chapter 3
A sharp gasp left Hermione’s lips as her eyes snapped open. Panic surged through her veins like fire, her breath coming in ragged, uneven bursts. She wasn’t sure if it was the remnants of unconsciousness or the unbearable weight of reality that made her head throb. But the moment her vision cleared, she found herself staring at something impossible.
Ginny.
Standing right there, alive, unharmed, watching her with cautious eyes.
“No,” Hermione whispered, shaking her head violently as she scrambled backward against the headboard. “No, no, no—this isn’t real.”
Her wild gaze darted around the dimly lit room, only to land on another familiar face.
Luna.
Hermione let out a strangled sound, a mixture of disbelief and fear. “What the hell is going on? Why are you here? Why is she—” She turned her frantic eyes back to Ginny, her chest heaving. “You’re dead! You died! Nott killed you! I saw it—”
“Hermione, please—” Ginny started, her voice desperate, but Hermione didn’t let her finish.
“DON’T!” Hermione’s scream rang through the room, raw with emotion. She clutched her arms around herself, as though trying to hold herself together. “I saw your body! I mourned you! I grieved you! Everyone grieved you! How are you standing in front of me like nothing happened?!”
“Hermione,” Luna spoke, stepping forward, her voice as calm and ethereal as ever, but Hermione recoiled.
“No! No—just—stay away from me!” She turned back to Ginny, her hands trembling. “Is this some sort of trick? Polyjuice? A glamour? A fucking hallucination? What is this?!”
“It’s me, Hermione,” Ginny said firmly, though her voice wavered. “I swear to you, I am real. I didn’t die.Theo never killed me.”
Hermione let out a choked laugh, bordering on hysteria. “You’re lying. He killed you, Ginny. I saw it happen! The Order saw it happen! You—your body—there was blood—”
Ginny took a deep breath, exchanging a glance with Luna before stepping closer. “It wasn’t me.”
Hermione stilled.
“What?” she whispered.
“It wasn’t me,” Ginny repeated, slower this time. “The body they found—the person Nott killed—that wasn’t me.”
Hermione’s mind reeled. Her stomach twisted painfully as the room tilted.
“I don’t—” She gritted her teeth, shaking her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. What are you saying?”
Ginny exhaled shakily. “I faked my death.”
Silence.
Hermione’s breathing hitched as the words settled into her bones.
Faked. Her. Death.
The weight of betrayal crushed her chest, and she couldn’t stop the bile from rising in her throat.
“You what?” Her voice was low, deadly.
“I had to,” Ginny said hurriedly. “I—I fell in love with Theo, Hermione. I wanted to be with him, and the war—” She swallowed hard. “The war was taking everything from me. I didn’t want to waste another moment.”
Hermione shook her head, her fingers clenching into fists. “So you just left? Just abandoned all of us?”
“It wasn’t like that,” Ginny insisted. “Draco helped—he brewed Polyjuice. We found a Death Eater—an insignificant one—and we gave him the potion, forced him to take my place on the battlefield. Theo killed him. That’s who you saw die.”
Hermione felt sick.
“Theo, Blaise, and Draco staged the whole thing. I left the battlefield and came here—to Malfoy Manor,” Ginny continued. “And then… Theo and I got married.”
The world blurred around Hermione. The walls seemed to close in, her ears ringing.
Married.
Ginny Weasley had married Theodore Nott.
A strangled noise escaped her throat. Her hands shook violently as she pressed them to her temples, willing herself to wake up from this nightmare.
“No,” she whispered. “No. This—this isn’t real. You’re lying. You’re fucking lying—”
“Hermione,” Ginny’s voice cracked, and for the first time, tears welled in her brown eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you. I—I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I needed the world to believe I was gone. If the Order found out I was alive, they would’ve never let me go. They would’ve dragged me back into the war.”
Hermione let out a broken laugh. “Oh, poor you,” she spat. “You got to run away and play house while the rest of us fought for our lives! While I—” Her voice wavered, her vision blurring. “While I watched you die.”
Ginny looked pained. “I know, Hermione. I know what I did. But I love Theo. I wanted to be with him. And I couldn’t do that in the war.”
Hermione felt something inside her snap.
“You are so selfish!.”
Ginny flinched.
Hermione surged forward, shoving her back with all the strength she had. “You let us think you were dead! You let Harry think you were dead! Ron! Fleur! Do you have any idea what you put them through? What you put me through?!”
Ginny didn’t fight back. She only looked at Hermione, guilt and sadness in her eyes.
Luna, silent until now, finally spoke. “Ginny made a choice, Hermione.”
Hermione spun on her. “And what the hell are you doing here, Luna? Why are you even involved in this?”
Luna met her eyes with the same serene expression she always wore. “Because she’s my best friend. And I knew.”
Hermione recoiled, staring at her like she was a stranger. “You knew?” Her voice trembled.
Luna nodded. “I was her maid of honor.”
Hermione let out a sharp breath. The world was spinning again, her heart slamming against her ribs.
“Get out,” she whispered.
Ginny blinked. “Hermione—”
“GET OUT!” Hermione screamed, her voice raw, her body trembling.
For the first time, Ginny looked truly afraid. She hesitated for a moment, but then Luna gently took her hand, pulling her toward the door.
“We’ll give you time,” Luna murmured before they both disappeared, leaving Hermione alone in her storm of pain, betrayal, and unanswered questions.
Hermione lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
She wasn’t sure how long she had been like this—minutes, hours? Time had blurred into meaninglessness. The heavy silence of the room pressed down on her, thick and suffocating. Her mind spun with the weight of everything she had learned, looping the same thoughts over and over until they became unbearable.
Ginny is alive.
The words felt foreign, unreal.
She faked her death. She let us mourn her. She let us grieve while she ran away to be with Nott.
A sharp pain twisted in her chest, something raw and jagged. She couldn’t understand it, couldn’t process it. Ginny had been her best friend. They had fought in the war together, bled together, survived together. And all this time, while Hermione had fought tooth and nail to keep moving forward, Ginny had been here, hidden away in Malfoy Manor, living her secret life.
And Luna knew.
She squeezed her eyes shut. That betrayal stung just as much. Luna had always been gentle, kind, and impossibly wise in her own way. Hermione had trusted her. And yet, she had stood beside Ginny, kept her secrets, watched as the rest of them suffered.
A lump formed in Hermione’s throat.
I should have seen it.
But how could she have? Ginny’s death had been real—it had been a moment of undeniable, brutal loss. And now, everything she thought she knew had been shattered.
She let out a slow, unsteady breath, trying to force her thoughts elsewhere, somewhere safer.
Are they okay?
Her mind drifted to the people waiting for her, the ones she had left behind. They had no idea where she was. No idea what had happened to her. Were they worried? Searching for her? She hated the thought of them fearing the worst.
They’ve already lost too much.
A shudder passed through her.
The Death Eaters had brought her here, but why? Why weren’t they torturing her for information? Why wasn’t she locked in a dungeon somewhere, starved and broken? Instead, they were treating her like a guest, letting her stay in a room, giving her food.
What do they want from me?
The uncertainty gnawed at her. She had seen how ruthless they could be. She had suffered at their hands before. And yet, here she was, unharmed, untouched.
For now.
A knock on the door startled her.
She sat up slowly, instinctively bracing herself as the door creaked open. Astoria stepped inside, her delicate frame almost blending into the dim light.
Hermione frowned.
She looks terrible.
Astoria had always been pale, but now she was almost ghostly. Her skin was paper-thin, her cheeks hollow, and her hands trembled slightly at her sides. She looked weak, exhausted, like every breath she took was an effort.
This pregnancy can’t be healthy.
Still, her posture remained poised, her expression calm as she regarded Hermione.
“We’d like you to join us for dinner,” Astoria said, her voice soft but firm.
Hermione stared at her for a long moment.
It was an invitation, not an order.
She could have laughed. They were really trying to act as if this was normal, as if she had simply been invited here, rather than kidnapped.
“No,” she said flatly.
Astoria blinked, but she didn’t look surprised.
“I’ll take my meals in my room,” Hermione continued. “I’m not interested in sitting at a table and pretending everything is fine.”
Astoria exhaled quietly, studying her with those tired, weary eyes.
“As you wish,” she murmured. Then, without another word, she turned and left, the door clicking softly behind her.
Hermione let out a slow breath and sank back against the pillows.
The war wasn’t over. The battles weren’t done. But she had no idea which fight she was in anymore.
And she wasn’t sure if she had the strength left to win.