Ask Me No Questions
“It was a gory scene,” Harry said, “but we were finally able to determine that it was Rowle from the pieces left of him.”
The faint beeping from the diagnostic charms and strong antiseptic smell were starting to give her a headache. She had a potion in her purse that would help, but she made no move to take it.
“I thought I saw horror during the war, but that room… There was just so much blood. The body was mutilated; he was tortured for hours.”
“Days,” Hermione mumbled, absentmindedly brushing her fingers through blonde hair. It was longer than he usually wore it. She’d have to give him a haircut soon.
Harry paused. “What’s that?” He asked.
“So everyone who hurt Draco is gone now?” She replied, changing the subject.
“Yeah, they are.” She could feel Harry staring at her as she adjusted the pillows behind Draco’s head. “Whoever did this must have been filled with pure hatred for Rowle.”
“They were hated by many.”
“Yeah, but this seemed personal,” Harry probed. “Was this punishment of some sort, maybe for what he did to Malfoy and the others? Retribution, or possibly revenge?” Hermione absentmindedly twisted her wedding band as she stared at her husband’s unconscious form. “I mean, you couldn’t… Hermione, you would never-“ Harry started to reason before cutting himself off as she finally met his eyes. He saw the barely concealed rage simmering below the surface, and he already knew the answer. He shook his head as he rubbed his eyes and headed toward the door, unable to look at her.
“Vengeance,” she stated as she cradled her husband’s limp hand, causing Harry to pause in the doorway. “The word you were looking for earlier was vengeance, Harry.”