He stayed awake as long as his body would allow it, watching as she twisted and twitched beside him, her head tucked against his chest, arms curled between their bodies. She whimpered and he smoothed the furrow from her sleeping brow, cooing in her ear to soothe her.
"It's OK, Sparrow. You're OK. You're safe. I'm here."
Of course why would that comfort her? He was the one who left her alone, left her vulnerable to Archlight. He was the one who hurt her after she'd chosen to trust him. Draco brought her to the Dragon in the first place, tearing her apart when she was at her lowest point, trapping her in this hell, stealing her wand. And yet her crying stopped and she burrowed in against him, sighing over the runes inked on his chest. Forgiveness, Grief and Guilt. Two of them ached with a bone deep pain when she breathed on them and he adjusted his position, closing his eyes to breathe through the agony.
The rhythm of their breathing synced together and it made his eyelids heavy. She muttered quiet, nonsensical words in her sleep and in doing so her lips moved against his skin and he shivered. While running his hand through her hair and finally he drifted off to sleep.
The sun woke her slowly, like swimming up through a thick sea, as if her mind didn't want her to return to the world she'd closed her eyes to. She blinked and stretched and felt the ache in her jaw, the tenderness around her eye. She lifted two fingers to touch it and hissed in pain. The medical advances in the wizarding world were incredible, but they couldn't remove pain instantaneously or completely. Beside her Draco whimpered in his sleep, his brow furrowed in deep consternation, his chin trembling, mouth forming silent words.
"Draco," she whispered, running a hand over his cheek.
He was injured too, his eye blackened, lower lip puffed and split, a slight swelling where the skele-gro worked to knit his jaw back together. It pulled his lips down a bit into a lopsided frown. She touched them, parted and swollen, a bit of dried blood gathered in the corner.
"Draco, you're ok. It's OK. I'm here."
She pressed a kiss to his forehead and he woke with a start, pulling back from her to get his bearings. The nightmare he'd been drowning in dissipated in the sunlight but his heart was still racing and it took a moment for him to recognize her touch, her voice. She reached for him again and he let her touch his face, her fingers grazing over his wounds, her eyes filled with tears.
"I'm so sorry Hermione," he said, pulling her hand from his face to press a kiss to her knuckles. "I wish I could...I want to take what happened...."
"I know Draco. You can't. It happened. It can't be undone. And I don't want you poking around in my brain to try and undo it. I'm just grateful that you got here when you did or I would..." She shook her head and sat up, pulling herself gingerly from the bed. "Thank you for staying with me. I'm...I'll be ok now."
She smiled at the line up of potions on her vanity table along with an extra pain potion and a little pot of bruise paste. Everything was the same. She was still the trapped little sparrow in the brothel, her pimp had simply rescued her from a particularly difficult night. It was what her brand was for, after all. She swallowed the potions and slipped the paste into her vanity before moving towards the bathroom to start a bath. Draco was climbing out of bed himself, pulling on a robe from her armoire.
"I would never leave you girls if I thought someone was planning...I would never..." he couldn't pick the words correctly and his head pounded with a headache from the skele-gro and being punched eight or nine times in the face.
"Then what was it you wanted to tell me? Before you left?" She said, turning on him, blocking his path to the door. "Did you know that Trevor would be here last night? Is that what was so important?"
"No! How would I have known...Hermione, never!"
"Then what was so important for me to know? What did you need to..."
"I went to see my mother," he said, interrupting her. "Trevor tricked me, sent me an owl that looked like it was from my mother, telling me it was an emergency. I haven't seen her face in three years, Hermione. And out of nowhere I get this note that I have to see her...immediately. That she needs to talk to me. I was...I was terrified and I just...I went to her thinking that she..."
He was cut off by Hermione throwing her arms around him; holding him tight. She knew. She knew he couldn't have done that, that he wouldn't have left her knowing Trevor was going to be there. Every time she assumed the worst about Draco Malfoy, she was always proven wrong.
"I'm sorry Draco. I'm...I'm all messed up I just..." she pulled back to hold his face in her hands. "You saw your mother! I'm so happy for you. Are you OK, did you talk?"
He nodded, still frowning.
"We did. Not...for long because I felt you calling me. But as usual you were right, she was happy to see me. It felt good to see her, as much as I hate going back to that house."
"Take her to lunch," Hermione said, offering a smile. "Or meet her for a drink in London, somewhere you'll both feel good. Neutral."
He smiled then, shaking his head in disbelief. Here was Hermione, hours from being beaten, raped, humiliated and she was giving him family advice. Still, even as she spoke he could see the exhaustion in her eyes. Her hands were still shaking.
"Go back and get some rest. I'm going to have the elves bring you some tea. You need to take some time to..."
"Draco I'm..."
"No you're not." He ran his hand over her cheek, his touch gentle, tentative and she leaned into it, her eyes closed. "It's OK to not be fine. It's ok to admit you're hurt. You've always been so obsessed with everyone thinking you're strong, you're fine, you're happy. It's OK to fall apart, even in front of me. Especially in front of me."
Her chin trembled and he wiped a tear from her cheek as she nodded, unable to find the words, unable to speak for fear of sobbing.
"I just...I don't like to keep thinking about it," she whispered, looking at the floor.
"I know," he said, even though he couldn't possibly fathom the horrors that flashed behind her closed lids, the images and feelings she couldn't shake. "It will get better. Go lay down. I'll come check on you later if you want me to," he said.
"I want you to," she answered.
He kissed her forehead and left her to rest.
Blaise sat across from him in his office, his knee bobbing nervously as Draco poured himself a drink. He'd taken a couple of hours to shower and pull himself together before calling Zabini back in. He turned on his friend last night, but the truth was that if there was anyone he trusted with the girls when he wasn't there it was Blaise; and he knew that there was no way he would have let Trevor near Hermione voluntarily. They'd had their arguments in the past and he had something of an obsession with Felicia, but Zabini was a good man and he never lied.
After flopping down on the sofa, Draco let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck where he could feel a knot forming.
"I should let her go," he said, running his finger over the rim of the glass. "I brought her here on an evil impulse, a way to get back at Lucius, a way to get back at her, as if she hadn't suffered enough. If I hadn't brought her..."
"You can't," Blaise said, a hint of panic in his voice. "You can't just let her out there, not now when everything is going to shit, mate. Yeah, Archlight is indebted to you but you can't control him forever. And if Lucius finds out she's free..."
He was right. Draco threw his drink back in one big gulp. What was once her prison was now the only place she was safe. Of course she'd never understand it, she'd rant and rave that she could protect herself, that she wasn't afraid, but even in the few months she'd been locked away the atmosphere on the outside had deteriorated. Voldemort wasn't interested in the welfare of the people, even the purebloods. All he cared about was his own wealth and the power he wielded. And now as even the pureblood lifestyles started to decay they took it out on the halfbloods and muggleborns instead of turning on the man they'd put in charge.
"What about the other thing," Draco asked, if only to bring his heart rate down. "Have you negotiated the purchase of the estate?"
"Y..yes! Yes," Blaise said, excited to be off the hook. "And Pansy and Michael want to help. She has family there and has connections all over the country."
"Good. Good. Thank you Zabini. The sooner we get that started the sooner this ends."
There was a knock at the door.
"Yeah?"
"Mr. Malfoy?" It was Sarah.
"Come in little Lark," Draco said, waving a hand at Blaise to dismiss him. "Thank you mate, I'll need your help in the coming weeks when I have to travel out to the site. You're the only one I trust anymore, you know that."
"Of course, Draco. You can count on me," he said as Sarah came into the suite. Then, leaning in closer to Draco and squeezing his shoulder he added, "I never would have let anyone hurt her. I would have stopped him if I had the chance. You know that."
Draco nodded. "I know."
Sarah's eyes were wide with fear and confusion as she watched Blaise leave, giving her a curt nod as he straightened the black silk tie he wore.
"What's wrong?" She asked, sitting on the coffee table across from Draco, biting her lower lip. "What happened?"
"I wanted to tell you before people start whispering. Trevor Archlight attacked Hermione last night. He lured me out of the mansion and he got to her...she's..."
Sarah clapped her hands over her mouth, tears springing to her eyes.
"Is she OK? I should go check..."
Draco stood and touched her arm, keeping her from leaving the room.
"No. She wants to be alone. Healer Moonstone is taking care of her and she..."
"Are you?" She asked quietly.
"Am I what, love?"
"Are you OK? I see your...eye and your hand." She looked at her feet, her voice low, nervous. "Did you kill him?"
Draco sighed and stepped away, back to his desk where he could distract himself with paperwork and books, anything to keep the revived anger at bay. He shook his head as he rolled and unrolled various parchments, stacked galleons in equal sized piles.
"No. But I wanted to. I promised all of you that I would keep you safe in here. That if you worked for me you wouldn't have to worry, you'd always be safe. I couldn't keep...I failed her...she's..."
"It's my fault," Sarah said suddenly, rushing to Draco's desk, her chest heaving with breath.
"What? No. Of course it isn't."
"I...Trevor came to see me last week and we saw Hermione in the reading room. He was...he was awful to her Mr. Malfoy. He called her a m-mudblood and he made me call her names," she said, worrying the edge of her robe between her fingertips, shaking her head. Her voice was shrill and shaky, her eyes filled with tears. "We went to my room and he was...rough. He was aggressive, not like usual. You...you haven't been taking our memories lately, not always, and you don't see everything. I didn't want to worry you because he didn't hurt me, but he kept muttering mudblood c-cunt under his breath. He asked me if you ever left the mansion...if you ever left anyone else in charge. I'm so sorry Mr. Malfoy, I should have told you...I should have known he would..."
"What did you tell him?" Draco's hands were clenched into fists, hard enough that his fingernails dug deep into his palms. "About me?"
"I told him...I said that I'd never seen you leave us alone unless there was an emergency...like if something happened to your mother."
He wasn't angry with Sarah. Again, it was himself. Again he had failed his girls by being so sunk into himself that he'd neglected to check their memories, to make sure they were safe. If he'd seen Trevor acting that way with her he'd have been removed from the club long ago. Once again, everything he touched shattered to pieces.
"It's not your fault Sarah. It's no one's fault but Trevor Archlight...and me. I should have been there. I should have seen what he was doing to you...I'm...I'm sorry." He pulled her into his arms and kissed the crown of her head. She was still shaking. "Why didn't you tell me he was cruel to you? Why didn't you tell me he'd gotten aggressive?" He whispered into her hair.
"I didn't...I didn't want to worry you," she said, pulling away and wiping her eyes. "I thought you'd been through enough."
Hermione was still sleeping when he went back to her room. Moonstone had given her another pain potion, "mostly to help her rest," she said and she told Draco that she'd taken a warm bath and even eaten half of a sandwich. Instead of waking her, Draco sat in her reading chair with his package of vanilla buttercreams and a new book he'd seen about the history of wizarding schools in France. He supposed he could have lay with her, crawled into the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms, but he didn't want to risk frightening her, touching her while she was asleep, so instead he watched.
He watched her looking almost peaceful: her features soft, eyes flitting a bit below closed lids. Her lips were parted and he could hear the tiny rushes of breath each time she exhaled and it made him smile. She was beautiful, even in her pain, her hair fanned out over the pillow in caramel waves, the bruises on her face faded even from a few hours ago, the violence of the night before slowly retreated beneath the skin. As the sun went down he lit the fire and a few of the candle sconces before sitting on the edge of her bed when she started to stir.
"Hey there," he said, when her eyes flickered open. "I wanted to check on you. We're closed tonight so I..."
"Do they all know?" Hermione asked, her voice thick with humiliation, still shaking with fear.
Draco ran his fingers through her hair, down over her cheek, careful to avoid the tender skin near her eye.
"They do," he said, sighing. "Sarah wanted to come check on you but I told her she should..."
"I don't feel like seeing anyone yet," she said, pulling herself up to sit, running a hand over her throat.
The bruises there were deep, but a bit lighter than they had been. Just seeing them made him angry, filled him with regret at not killing him. Hermione reached out and took his hand, pulling his bruised and swollen knuckles to her lips.
"Why didn't the bruise paste work on these?" She asked, kissing each finger. His cheeks burned and he squeezed her hand.
"I didn't use it. Moonstone was busy enough."
Hermione dropped his hand and pulled herself out of bed, sighing and rolling her eyes as she moved to the vanity. She brought over the little pot of sweet smelling paste and sat beside Draco, pulling up his hand and touching the medicine to his wounds, blowing a stream of cool air over each one. He didn't pull away from her and she was happy for the distraction, a way to turn her brain on to some other task, some other worry. It had been over a month since she'd taken care of Draco in any capacity and it felt like slipping into a comfortable sweater. For a brief moment she forgot about how she'd been hovering near death only the day before.
It felt good to be close to him again, to feel his breath on her skin, smell the pomade he used in his hair, the same scent he'd had in school...that Malfoy smell. Even when they were sworn enemies, the girls of Gryffindor had agreed that Draco smelled better than any wizard in school and she smiled thinking about it now.
"Why didn't you tell me that Trevor had confronted you in the reading room?" He asked as she finished massaging the paste into his pinky.
She turned his hand over and ran her finger over the six black stars inked across his wrist.
"What do these mean?" She asked, as if she hadn't even heard his question.
He was silent for a long moment and she wouldn't let go of him. Her head was on his shoulder and she traced the outlines of the stars, then up along the tendons in his forearm. It was soothing and he was sleepy, warm. Finally, after a deep breath and a shake of his head he spoke
"Six stars for the six deaths I carry. I'm responsible for them no longer being here. Dumbledore, Lavender, Crabbe...you know them. James Hornbeam was killed trying to bring me in, Olive Pearl died in the Malfoy dungeons under my care, and Veronica Fairform...my Robin...the first girl I ever took in. None of them would be dead if it weren't for my actions. I have to bear the guilt of it."
She didn't say anything, didn't challenge his belief or his reassure him that it wasn't true. He wouldn't have accepted her absolution anyway. Instead she brought his wrist to her lips and kissed it once before lowering it again into her lap.
"I thought it was just an argument with Trevor. I didn't think he'd come back and I was...I felt safe here so I didn't think to bother you with it I should have told you. I was just...being stubborn."
"You? Hard to believe," Draco said, and the sound of her quiet laugh was like sunshine washing over him, if only for a second. "I missed you."
Hermione took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his, a slow kiss, soft and sure, her hands moving back to sink into his hair. Draco pulled back, searching her face, her eyes, unsure of whether she wanted more and she smiled.
"I missed you too," she said, massaging the back of his neck.
He pushed forward, kissing her with a bit more insistence, licking at the seam of her lips, pulling her against his chest. This was all he wanted. He wanted to hold her again, to kiss her. That was all he could ever have asked for. She let his tongue slip against hers for a moment, the tiniest whimper of pleasure vibrating between them. Draco ended the kiss first, brushing his lips over the bruise on her jaw, her cheek, then kissing her forehead.
"Get some rest, Sparrow. You're safe now. I promise."
It had been the worst night of her life, but Hermione fell back on her pillow feeling lighter than she had in months.