A fragile escape
(Hermione’s POV)
The air outside the house was cold against my skin, biting into me with a sharpness I barely felt. The weight of what had just happened still hung over me, but there was no time to process it, no time to mourn. I needed to find somewhere—anywhere—to go.
The streets blurred as I walked, aimless, my thoughts scattered and frantic. Where could I go?
Harry and Ginny’s house was the first place that came to mind. They’d always been there for me, even in the darkest of times. But as I thought about it, a cold knot tightened in my stomach. Ron would look there first.
I couldn’t risk putting them in danger. Harry would want to help me, but Ron was capable of anything when he was angry. I couldn’t drag them into this. Not when I wasn’t sure how far Ron would go.
I kept walking, the weight of every decision pressing down on me. I made my way toward the Leaky Cauldron, hoping to find some sense of refuge. Maybe I could find a room, hide there for a while.
But as I stepped inside, the barkeep’s gaze immediately told me it wasn’t going to be that simple.
“We’re fully booked, love,” he said, his voice apologetic but firm. “Sorry.”
I nodded, the reality of the situation sinking in further. There was nowhere left to turn.
Just as I began to feel the panic bubbling up inside me, I felt a hand on my arm. The touch was gentle, but firm enough to pull me from my spiraling thoughts. I turned to face the person who had stopped me.
Theo Nott.
He was a familiar face, though not one I had seen in a while. His expression softened as he looked at me, his dark eyes narrowing as he took in my appearance.
“Hermione?” he said softly. “What happened to you?”
I wanted to lie, to say I had tripped or gotten into some sort of accident, but his gaze was too sharp. He could see the bruises on my face, the way my cheek was swelling, and the cut on my lip that had begun to bleed. He knew.
“I—I’m fine,” I stammered, backing away slightly, trying to hide my injuries. “It’s nothing. Really.”
Theo didn’t buy it. His eyes hardened, his brows furrowing in concern.
“You’re not fine.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but my breath caught in my throat as the weight of everything that had happened started to hit me again. I couldn’t hold it together. I was broken, and I couldn’t keep pretending I wasn’t.
Without another word, Theo stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. His touch was steady, comforting in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.
“Come with me,” he said, his voice low but insistent. “I’ll take you somewhere safe.”
I hesitated, torn between wanting to refuse and the overwhelming need to be somewhere other than the cold, unforgiving streets.
And so, with no other option, I nodded.
The walk to Theo’s flat felt surreal, as if I were in a dream, disconnected from reality. My mind kept flashing back to Ron, to the way he had hurt me. I couldn’t escape it. But Theo’s presence, his quiet strength, grounded me in a way I hadn’t felt in far too long.
When we reached his flat, he led me inside, his movements precise but careful. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was warm and safe—a stark contrast to the house I had left behind.
“Sit,” Theo instructed, motioning to the couch.
I obeyed, too exhausted to argue. As soon as I sat down, I felt the weight of the situation crash down on me. Tears, which I had been holding back, started to fall, and I let them. I couldn’t stop them even if I tried.
Theo didn’t say anything at first. He simply went to the kitchen and returned with a damp cloth, kneeling in front of me to gently clean the blood from my face. His touch was soft, and it was the first time in so long that I wasn’t afraid to let someone help me.
“You’re safe here, Hermione,” Theo murmured as he worked. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, afraid I might fall apart entirely. But as Theo’s gentle hands wiped the blood from my cheek, I realized something that made my heart twist in my chest. I had no one left. Ron had driven everyone away. My friends, my family, my support—they were all distant memories now.
And now, the only person who had reached out to me was Theo Nott. A former enemy, a former rival, who, against all odds, had become someone I could trust.
Theo finished cleaning my face, and as he straightened up, I finally broke. I didn’t know why, but the tears came harder now, the emotions I had been bottling up for so long spilling over. It was as if something inside me had snapped, and I couldn’t keep the dam from breaking.
Theo didn’t say a word, but instead, he stepped closer to me, his arms wrapping around me in a comforting embrace. It wasn’t romantic, wasn’t anything other than a simple gesture of someone offering comfort to a person who needed it. He held me as I cried, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to feel vulnerable.
He didn’t judge. He didn’t ask questions. He just held me, letting me release everything I had kept hidden for so long.
I clung to him, shaking and crying, letting the tears fall freely. I had no idea how long we stood there like that, but it felt like time had stopped. Theo held me until my sobs began to subside, until the worst of it passed.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet my eyes.
“I’m here for you, Hermione,” he said softly, his voice steady and genuine. “You’re not alone.”
And in that moment, I realized something that took me by surprise—maybe I wasn’t as alone as I thought.