A stolen life
(Hermione’s POV)
The moment they landed, Hermione staggered slightly, the force of the Apparition making her knees buckle. Before she could fall, Draco’s steady hands gripped her shoulders, holding her upright.
“Easy,” he murmured.
She blinked, taking in her surroundings. The air was warmer here, carrying the faint scent of lavender and fresh rain. The estate stood tall against the dusky sky, its pale stone exterior almost glowing under the fading sunlight. It wasn’t ostentatious like she had imagined a Malfoy property would be. Instead, it felt… safe. Secluded.
Theo let out a low whistle. “Well, Malfoy, you’ve outdone yourself. Didn’t think you had a taste for cozy.”
Draco shot him a flat look. “Shut up, Nott.”
Hermione’s chest tightened as she took a shaky breath. “This is really okay?”
Draco turned to her fully, arms crossed. “We wouldn’t have brought you here if it wasn’t.”
Theo nudged her with his elbow, waggling his eyebrows. “Trust me, Granger. If Malfoy didn’t want you here, he’d have dropped you in the middle of a lake instead.”
A weak laugh escaped her, and to her surprise, it wasn’t forced.
Draco rolled his eyes and motioned toward the front doors. “Come inside. There are wards all around the property, and I’ll add you to them so you can come and go freely.”
The warmth in her chest flickered, quickly doused by an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. She followed them inside, her steps slow as reality settled in.
She had left.
She was gone.
And Ron… Ron would realize soon.
The thought sent an icy wave of panic through her, but she forced herself to push it down. Later. She could fall apart later.
Draco led them to a sitting room, the space elegant but inviting. A fire crackled in the grand hearth, casting a golden glow over the furniture. Hermione hesitated near the doorway, feeling out of place.
As if sensing it, Theo plopped onto one of the sofas and patted the space beside him. “Come on, Granger. Make yourself at home. I promise Malfoy won’t hex you for sitting on his expensive furniture.”
Draco scoffed, but he didn’t argue.
She finally sat, curling her legs underneath her. For a few minutes, none of them spoke. The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable, but it felt heavy, like they were all waiting for her to say something.
Draco was the one to finally break the silence. “Why did Potter take Weasley’s side?”
She stiffened at the question. Her stomach twisted painfully, and she lowered her gaze to her lap. “Because Ron made sure he would.”
Draco frowned. “Explain.”
She exhaled slowly, willing herself to stay steady as she continued. “If I ever disagreed with him, he’d turn it around and tell people I was nagging. Controlling. Too much. And when I started to notice the way everyone treated me differently, he said I was imagining it. That I was just being paranoid.”
Draco’s expression darkened, but he didn’t interrupt.
Hermione’s voice dropped lower. “Then he started telling them I didn’t support him. That I thought I was better than him.” She let out a bitter laugh. “I never said that. I never thought that. But Ron… he played the victim so well. He would fight with me and then go to them, acting devastated, saying I didn’t love him the way I should. That I didn’t respect him.”
She shook her head, biting her lip. “And the worst part? He was smart about it. It wasn’t sudden. It happened so gradually that by the time I realized what was happening, it was too late.”
Theo sat up straighter, his playful demeanor gone. “That bastard isolated you.”
Hermione nodded tightly. “Yes. And once I was completely alone, he convinced me I deserved it.”
Draco’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “And Potter just believed him? No questions asked?”
Hermione closed her eyes for a moment before looking at Draco. “Harry has always been loyal to Ron. And Ron made sure he got to him first. Every time I tried to reach out, it just reinforced what Ron had been telling him—that I was ‘dramatic’ and ‘making things up for attention.’” She swallowed back the lump in her throat. “And Ginny… well, she loves her brother. She didn’t want to believe he could be like that. Neither of them did.”
Theo let out a low curse under his breath, shaking his head. “Merlin, Granger.”
Draco’s voice was tight, controlled. “So you stayed.”
Hermione looked away. “I thought if I could just be better, he’d stop.”
Silence settled over the room. She could feel both of them watching her, waiting for her to say something else. But she was empty. Wrung out.
Then, Theo let out a dramatic sigh, breaking the tension. “Right, well, I was going to suggest we all get completely pissed, but something tells me that’s not the solution you need right now.”
A surprised laugh bubbled up in her throat, and she shook her head. “Probably not.”
Draco’s gaze softened, though his voice still held an edge of steel. “You don’t have to worry about Weasley getting to you here. I’ll reinforce the wards, and no one is getting through them without my permission.”
Theo leaned back, giving her a lopsided grin. “And if he does try, I’ll hex his bits off.”
She let out a shaky breath, some of the tightness in her chest easing. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t alone.