All That You Are

Hermione stared at the center of the room with anticipation. Mip was bringing Theo here, and every nerve was frayed with anxiety about seeing him again. Fingertips danced against the bag in her lap, twisting the strap anxiously between her fingers. By the time the House Elf had popped back into the room, she was throwing herself from the bed and into Theo’s arms. Her brother breathed a sigh of relief into her hair as his arms snaked around her. The familiar smell of cinnamon and oranges enveloped her and he chuckled against her shoulder. “I missed you too, Granger.”

After a moment she pulled away, stepping back as they met each other’s eyes. Worry lines barely smoothed out near his blue eyes and her feet carried her back towards the bed, yanking Theo along with her as she perched on the edge. “Tell me everything.”

With a sigh, Theo ran a nervous hand through his dark curls before tilting his blue eyes towards her. “We haven’t figured out how to destroy the locket just yet. I’ve read through all of Snape’s and Regulus’s journals and haven’t found a single damn thing. I’m not sure what exactly we’re expected to do and the only thing that I can think of would be to ask Snape our bloody selves but that’s impossible…” 

He was cut off by Hermione’s sharp gasp. “Theo, that's genius!”

“What do you mean?”

“My bond…I can reach out to Snape myself….through the bond.” Launching off of the bed she ran a nervous hand through her curls. “Why didn’t I think of this sooner? Merlin, I feel like an idiot.” Her eyes widened and she stared at Theo. “Oh my gods. He probably thinks that I’m dead, doesn’t he?! I haven’t reached out!” Hermione’s nervous rambling was cut off as Theo stood up abruptly, clutching onto her arms. 

“Hermione. Calm down, take a breath and close your eyes. Think for a moment and then reach out, let him know that you’re okay before anything.” Hermione nodded quickly, shutting her eyes as she focused on the bond. 

Dad?

It took exactly thirty-seven seconds before she felt a sharp tug on the bond and another ten seconds before Draco appeared in the room with a pop and looking startled with Snape gripping onto him tightly with a snarl gracing his lips. Mip stood at their feet and quickly let go of their robes, disappearing again. Snape yanked his wand from his sleeve and pressed the tip to Draco’s jaw, who only stood up straighter, something dangerous swimming in his eyes. “While I have the utmost respect for you, I love your daughter more. So if you would be so kind as to remove your wand from my throat we can settle this another time when she isn’t in the room with us.” 

An unreadable expression flitted across Snape’s face before he turned abruptly, his black eyes flicking over Hermione’s startled form. Then, she was being swept into his arms, trembling hands pressing against the back of her head. This was the second time that she had seen her father’s facade falter in front of her and the image yanked abruptly on her heart strings. He stepped back, tilting his head at Theo before narrowing his eyes at Draco, before speaking through gritted teeth. “What, exactly, was the meaning of me believing that my daughter was dead?” 

Silence settled around them, and Hermione tore her eyes from Snape’s expectant ones and met Draco’s. He raised a brow, a silent question written all over his face. Sighing, she shook her head before parted lips spilled the truth. When she was done, Snape was completely still, his hands at his side and studying her with an unreadable expression. Then he turned towards Draco, his smooth drawl filling the silence. “We will discuss this later. For now you have made the correct decision.” Flicking his eyes towards her again. “You’re staying here, correct?” 

“I was made aware that I don’t really have a choice in the matter.” All three of the men in the room nodded and she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Well, see no bloody choice in the matter.” 

Theo laughed. “Considering your track record with the consequences of your decisions I would say maybe letting somebody else make them for you might be a smart idea.” Her elbow met his stomach.

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Two weeks after they had gathered into Draco’s room, her room had been transformed into a Potion lab from her dreams. There was a long mahogany table spread out through the room, fitted with four cauldrons that Hermione appraisingly ran her hands over upon first inspection. The walls were lined with shelves of ingredients generously stocked by Snape and Draco. She had been brewing for the last month, carefully stockpiling and filling different bags that she had charmed with unnoticeable extension charms. After two months, she was engrossing herself in any and every piece of text that she could get her hands on while continuing her little stockpile of brewed potions. That was what she had been doing, curled up in the bed that Draco and her shared when he Apparated suddenly into the room, stumbling against the dresser as he caught himself. Throwing her book down she scrambled towards the end of the bed, eyes studying Draco intently. She yanked the Death Eater mask from his face and he faltered, stepping backwards so suddenly that he fell back against the wall. 

“Draco?! What the–”

“Granger, I’m fine.” His voice was gravely, and he sputtered, coughing a rattly breath. Her wand flicked over him, staring at the bright red orb that appeared over his chest. She scrambled, running back towards the Potions room, yanking different potions from the shelves. Her heart seized, when she dropped to her knees, noting Draco’s currently slumped form. His head was bent down, raspy breaths leaving his lips and she studied the blonde fringe that hung into his eyes with specks of blood spattered into it. She tipped his head up, apologies falling from her lips when she poured the Skele-gro down his throat, after dumping multiple potions before. He gasped sharply, curses falling from the lips she wanted desperately to say her name again and watched him carefully. After twenty terrifying minutes which she spent healing his other minor wounds, his eyes blinked hazily open at her and she choked on a sob at the silver staring back at her. 

“Merlin, Draco.” Carefully slinging his arm over her shoulders, she led him to the bed. Protests broke the silence as Draco pinched his eyes shut tightly, exhaling heavily when his back met the bed. Then suddenly his silver eyes were on her again and he was attempting to push himself off of the bed. “What are you doing?”

“I-I’m drenched in Dark Magic…not on the bed…not where you sleep Granger. I can make it to the shower.” Her heart squeezed as she pulled him up carefully, ignoring more of his protests as she draped his arm over her shoulders. 

“Draco.” She hissed out a warning as he stumbled along beside her, attempting to walk and keep most of his weight off of her. He didn't say anything, just wheezed as she brought him into the en suite, and leaned him against the counter. Her eyes drifted to his slouched form occasionally as she prepared the shower. Draco’s eyes were clenched shut, his expression calm but the pain betrayed by the way he was gripping the countertop. She makes her way over to him, hands running over the smooth silk of his shirt before undoing the buttons. “Come on big guy.” 

Silver eyes snapped open, flitting across her face before trembling fingers enclosed her hands. “Granger.” Her name from his lips like a growled warning, pain lingering in the drawl. She ignored him, shrugging his hand off until he grabbed it more insistently, silver eyes hardening. “Granger.”

“What?” Honey eyes narrowed at him. 

He swallowed. “I don't want you anywhere near this, love.” She glared at him, before yanking his arm and pulling him into the shower, both of them still mostly dressed as the water hit them. Realization flickered in the depths of the stormy gray staring back at her, and he stepped closer, his body trembling under the burning stream. “Hermione..get out.”

Curls were plastered to her face and she crossed her arms over her chest as she glared at him. “No.” 

Draco stared at her for a moment, before his palm slapped against the tiled wall, magic swirling in his eyes. “Granger.” 

“Draco.” Her voice is firm as she steps into him, tilting her jaw in defiance. “I'm not going anywhere.” Petite fingers pulled at the drenched fabric against his skin and they landed onto the floor with a wet smack. Draco didn't fight it again, as her fingers glided over his skin, brushing over the dark bruises that still lingered. She pulled away, meeting his eyes as she slowly pulled the belt from the buckles, and slid his trousers down his legs. “How many times have you come home like this?” 

Draco didn't answer her, his jaw locked tight, attempting to downplay the pain he was in and she pursed her lips at him. When she whispered the question again, his eyes fluttered shut. 

“Draco…how many times…have you come home like this, and nobody was there to help you?” Her voice cracked and Draco’s eyes flew open, her brown eyes didn’t waver as she stared at him, tears mixing with the water on her face. His fingers twitched, before reaching up and brushing a soaking lock from her face. 

“Don’t.” It was a simple word, holding so much. She closed her eyes, palms sliding up the expanse of his chest. 

“I’m sorry, Draco.” He blanched, his head pulling back in surprise. “I’m sorry that you have to sacrifice pieces of yourself in order to protect us all. I didn’t think about it that way until now but…you’ve been here by yourself. I’ve always had you, and Theo–hell the entire bloody Order. You, you’ve been sitting in this room drenched in Dark Magic doing the Dark Lord's bidding with nobody here to help you. With nobody here for you. I kept showing up almost dead fighting for a cause that’s bigger than I am and this whole time you’ve been fighting alone.” A shudder ran down his spine as fingers dug into her hip. “You’re not doing this alone, Draco. Not anymore.” Her voice cracked. 

Draco shook his head, his mouth pressed together in a tight line, gray eyes that looked far too wise for their age stared back at her, swirling with emotions and a turmoil that never should’ve reached their depths.

"You, Draco Malfoy are one of the most giving people. You can deny that all you want but you will give all of yourself for the people that you love. You will allow yourself to be destroyed if it means giving your last breath. I love you. You have somebody who sees you and loves you now. You don't get to hide or pretend like it's not okay for you to be taken care of too.” Her fingers brush over his jaw, fire spreading across his skin. “I see you, Draco. You don’t get to hide, not from me.” Her words came out a hushed whisper, the falling water surrounding them. 

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Draco returned back to the Manor like that more often than she would have preferred, his body bruised and battered–almost always bloody. Sometimes he was trembling so badly from the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse that she was barely able to undress him without banishing every article of clothing. She would just be able to catalog the new scars that were appearing on his skin when he would return with more. Her body sometimes snaked around his as she just held him against her until the trembling stopped. Hermione had given up on fighting him about him showering before coming to bed–it was the one thing he wouldn’t budge on. He would stand, sit, kneel, it didn’t matter–He wouldn’t climb into their bed until he was certain that he wasn’t drenched in Dark Magic in the place that she slept. 

Tonight–tonight he wasn’t there, and he hadn’t been home the night before either. A sense of dread settled in her stomach as she sat on the chaise in front of the fire. Worry gnawing at her frayed nerves. Yanking open her notebook, her eyes flitted over the pages before writing a quick message–Draco had retrieved Theo’s notebook, and now Hermione and him communicated every night. Every night. He had been silent for two days along with Draco. She stood, eyeing the door warily as her hand rested just above the doorknob. Then she remembered. Spinning quickly she yanked open her beaded bag and threw the cloak over her head before attempting to pull open the door. It wouldn’t budge. 

The house elf's name fell from her tongue before she had a chance to rethink it. After a moment the house elf popped into the room. “Dobby.”

“Missus Hermione.”

“Dobby, I need your help.” Dobby was twisting his ears, staring at the spot she stood with the cloak draped over her. “I need you to just take me outside the room, can you do that?”

“Dobby can do that.” He reached out his bony fingers to her and she took them greedily, feeling the light pull as he popped them into the hallway. She adjusted the cloak, draping it over his small form as she pulled him against her. 

“Be quiet, Dobby.” He simply nodded, scurrying along with her through the halls that she knew by heart. It was then that she heard the screaming coming from the Drawing Room and her entire body went rigid. Narcissa was being held in an Incarcerous by a large Death Eater she had come to know as Greyback–his face buried in her hair. Narcissa was shaking, her hands trembling but her chin tilted up in defiance as her eyes fixed on the door to the Drawing Room, cracked open with the sounds echoing from inside. 

“Tell me where the little bitch is, Draco and the pain will stop.” She heard a gurgling sound, the sharp and quick intake of breath before it was released. The scratching of clothes and a body moving across the drawing room floor. “You see, I saw in the little redheads memories…saw a flash of her being here. You wouldn’t have let her die. No, you have feelings for the little halfblood. How pathetic. Weak.” 

Hermione’s heart squeezed when she realized what Bellatrix said, her words washing over her like a cold splash of water. She leaned down, quietly whispering into Dobby’s ear. “Check the dungeons for Harry.” Dobby nodded and disappeared with a quiet Pop. Hermione shivered, slowly and quietly making her way towards the side door of the Drawing Room. She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her as the door opened revealing the scene to her. Draco was on his back in the Drawing Room, his chest stuttering as it rose and fell. The blond of his hair was a deep crimson from the pool of blood that he lay in against the marble floors. 

White. Black. Red. White. Black. Red. Red. Red.

Black curls spun her direction, wild eyes seeking the area she stood with a manic and deranged look at the sound of her gasp. Then she was suddenly slinging hexes and curses in Hermione’s direction, unprepared and caught off guard, one hit her, dropping her to the floor loudly and harshly. A disbelieving laugh fell from Bellatrix’s lips, her eyes lit up with a manic pleasure. “Is that you, little dirty blood?”

Hermione scrambled, yanking the cloak off of her head as she stood up, her wand pointed towards the manic witch. Bellatrix cackled. “Parlor tricks?!” Then Bellatrix was slinging a Cruciartus at her so powerful that Hermione hit her knees and her wand clattered to the floor. Bellatrix Incarcerated her quickly, running over to backhand her so sharply she toppled over in a heap against the tile floor. Hermione grit her teeth, letting out a shaky exhale before a perfect Malfoy sneer graced her lips. 

Bellatrix’s eyes went wild and wide as she advanced on her, leaning over her until Hermione winced from the smell of rot in her mouth. The sharp point of Bellatrix’s wand cut into the soft flesh of her chin as she tipped it up. She could feel the bead of blood dripping down her neck. Then suddenly she was flying off of her, and Hermione was unbound, her eyes landing on Draco standing shakily holding his wand and pointing it at Bellatrix. His silver eyes were molten, fixed on her with a deadly precision. His entire body was trembling, blood dripping into his eyes, streaking across his pale skin. Deadly. Pissed. Murderous. 

Pushing aside the aching in her muscles, Hermione stood, scrambling to her feet as she scattered across the room to her wand. Just as it was in her hand she heard Draco curse, hitting his knees as his wand clattered to the floor beside him. His palm was pressed into the pool of blood at his feet, knee bent and locked onto the floor. Bellatrix spun, casting hexes that Hermione quickly blocked but she wasn’t as fast and as trained as Bellatrix was and a few moments later her wand was knocked again from her hand. Bella stared at them both, before a smile pulled at her lips. 

“How are you feeling, dearest Draco? Want to play a game?” Her cackle lit up the space between them, making every hair on Hermione’s arm stand up as she swallowed. Draco growled, reaching for his wand when suddenly Bellatrix whispered a curse and Hermione’s breath caught as Draco dropped to his hands and knees, a tremor running through him. She watched, her breath caught in her throat as he unfolded to his full height, seeming to forget about everything except her. Except when his head lifted and his gaze focused, it wasn’t him. His normal gray eyes were cloudy, glazed and filled with a confused emptiness that wretched her soul from her body. And when his hand closed around his wand she wondered if everything she went through was for her to die at his hands. She lifted her chin, and sighed, then took a step towards him as she scooped up her wand. His eyes snapped to her feet, before he raised his wand, flicking a hex at her that she deflected. Then they were engaged in a duel, Hermione deflecting only–but he was vicious, ruthless and Hermione suddenly became aware just how dangerous he really was. 

Her back hit the wall and her wand clattered to the floor for the third time that night as he advanced upon her, his wand jabbed into her throat. Her hands lifted, coming to rest on his cheeks as her thumbs smoothed over his cheeks. “It’s okay love, I forgive you. It’s not your fault. You did so well.” She leaned forward, noticing how he was trembling under her hands, pressing the wand tip into her throat more as she whispered into his ear. “Use this for your revenge, Draco. If you can’t come back to me, if she does this ... .if she makes you do this…use this as your revenge.” 

She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable but it didn’t come. His hand that was on her hip pressing her against the wall twitched, and the wand that was pressed into her throat shifted, enough for her to take in a rattly breath. Blood slipped down her forehead and into her eye from where he had grazed her with a slicing spell and she watched as gray eyes that were slowly starting to clear tracked the motion of it sliding across her skin. Then his eyes were on hers, his lips parting slightly and she watched the pain swirl in the depths of his eyes. A huff of disbelieving laughter flitted across his face as he stared at her. 

Everything else happened quickly. She heard spells being thrown from the hallway, the doors flinging open and Draco flying away from her violently thrown on the floor as a woosh of air left his lungs and his eyes fluttered closed. Hermione was stepping forwards, ignoring the shouting from Theo and Harry as they now attempted to disarm Ronald and stepped over Draco’s body with her wand extended towards the witch who was now focused on Harry. And yet, even in the silence of the room; Dracos strangled breaths haunting her ears- she knew what was coming before it happened.  Bellatrix grasped her wand,  determination flicking into the manic irises as she opened her mouth.  

Draco let out a strangled noise and Hermione didn't think twice stepping in front of him and raising her wand.  

The spell fell easily from her lips, taking a shattered piece of her soul with it.  Dark Magic coursing through her veins with a surge so fiercely and terrifying she wondered for a moment if Bellatrix had somehow managed to travel into her somehow.  If her soul had left the vacant state of her eyes and traveled back into Hermione if only to wreak havoc on her own. The mass of black fabric and curls falling into a heap as her body slumped against the cold marble floor.

Her legs gave out, careening to the floor as coldness crept up every inch of her inside and out. The room stilled, sounds disappearing except for the whooshing in her ears of her own blood reminding her ironically that she was alive as the bitter taste of Dark Magic swept across her taste buds. Bitter. Cold. Fractured.

She wondered where the pieces of themselves wound up; the dark fractured and broken pieces of a person's soul. Did they float around somewhere? Desperately searchihng for a place to land? Or were they lost forever, fractured beyond repair that nothing–even something as pure as a soulmate–could save them? But, then again, maybe that’s where soulmates came from. Maybe somewhere along the way all of the pieces that fracture and break apart from you wound up completing another. A manic watery chuckle fell from her lips at the thought that maybe this was what soulmates were, an invisible thread tying themselves together even after pieces of themselves had long since died. But somehow a realization occurred to her as she came back to herself, warmth spreading back into her fingertips. 

Even the broken pieces of their souls would somehow find a way to be together. Wherever they went, meeting up in the same place in the darkness where they had been stolen. Because that was the only explanation as to why even broken and incomplete, she felt the pieces that Draco let slip away click into place along the empty parts of her.

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Dobby had taken Harry, Theo and Ron with him–only one of them fighting against the two boys holding him back. Then Narcissa turned her attention to Hermione and Draco lying on the floor beside one another. Her shaking hands checked over Draco first, healing any wound that he might die from, but leaving him mostly in the state he was. Hermione had sat up, staring blankly at Narcissa who cupped her cheeks with hands that Hermione usually thought were too cold when she could feel them.  It was strange how suddenly they seemed to be warmer than her own skin.

“Hermione, darling. I need you to go back to Draco’s room.” This, she processed out of all the words the older regal witch was saying to her. Her eyes snapped to Narcissa’s trembling form.

“No. I’m not leaving him.” 

“Hermione. I have to clean up and take care of things, okay?” She swallowed, registering the words as they came to her. Slowly. She blinked. 

“I will help.”

“Absolutely no-”

“Narcissa.” It was the most assertive that she had ever spoken to the witch she viewed as a mother, the coldness creeping through her veins fueling her bitter words. “Let me help protect my family.” 

She watched her eyes soften before pinching her lips together, and then nodded, releasing her face. Hermione stood, lifting her wand as Narcissa summoned the house elves, making sure that they took Draco to his chambers and healed him. Hermione pinched her lips together tighter as she watched him disappear, with the elves, her eyes lingering on the pool of blood smeared across the marble floor. She swallowed before lifting her arm and slowly cleaning the entire room. She watched as his blood disappeared into the Manor, as if it was reclaiming every drop like Draco belonged to the house as much as it belonged to him. Narcissa took a moment by her sister's side, staring down at her before levitating her body through the doors that led to her rose garden. Hermione followed her outside, watching as Narcissa stared at the black robes and matted curls of her sister's dead body. An apology caught in her throat. She wasn’t sorry that she killed her, wasn’t sorry that she saved Harry and Draco’s and everybody’s lives. She wasn’t sorry for that. But knowing that this was somebody that Narcissa cared about. That she loved made the words catch in her throat, a sound leaving her lips that had Narcissa shaking her head. 

“You’ve done enough, dear. Go tend to him. I will take care of the rest.” Just as the words left her mouth a House Elf popped beside her, reaching its delicate hand out to her. 

“He…Master is awake, Miss, and he is trying to fight to look for you.” She immediately slipped her hand into the elfs, with one last fleeting look towards Narcissa before she popped into Draco’s chambers. Their chambers. He was struggling to sit up, ripping off the dittany bandages scattered across his chest, wild eyes landing on her immediately as she appeared in the room. His gaze was intense, flicking over every inch of her–his eyes lingering on the dried blood that had slipped across her cheek. She opened her mouth before he could. 

“Leave us please, all of you.” They stared at her for a moment before they all disappeared. She could feel Draco’s tension rippling out of him like waves, his magic simmering in the air between them like tendrils caressing her skin. 

“Granger..” He was standing, his entire body trembling at the effort and she immediately stepped into him, fighting off the fear that momentarily overtook her at the memories of his wand raised towards her, the murderous look in his eyes as his wand dug into her throat. She flinched slightly when he raised his hand and he instantly stopped, his eyes widening and breath catching before he stepped back immediately, his gray eyes flitting over her face before she could even say anything. 

“It’s not–”

“Don’t you dare tell me it’s not my fault–”

“--your fault, it was Bellatrix’s and I don’t blame–”

“Don’t blame me?! At least one of us is wise enough to do that then because trust me, Granger I blame myself more than enough for the both of us–”

“Draco, I know you would never hurt–”

“--I already did!”

“Bellatrix did!” Hermions snapped, stepping into him with her chin raised. 

He took another step back, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her, both of their chests were heaving and he was swaying slightly and her hands were trembling. Their magic was crackling into the air around them, and their eyes were locked on one another. “I’m going to fucking kill her for lying a hand on you and–”

“I already killed her, Draco.” His gray eyes widened as he stared at her. His whole body tensed, as if he suddenly could sense the Dark Magic that clung to her skin, that coursed through her veins. He lifted a shaky hand towards her–she didn’t flinch this time–and brushed his thumb along the trail of blood that had spilled over her cheek. 

“You didn’t….gods…love.” 

Hermione shook her head, gritting her teeth. “Don’t. Don’t pity me for something that you have to do too many times. I don’t regret it. I do not regret killing that psychotic bitch, and I do not regret that I gave up a piece of myself for you because I would do it again. I would give up every piece of me until there is nothing left if it meant saving you, Draco. Because that’s what we do, isn’t it? We give and give and give until there is nothing left of each other but at least when we’re together we can feel whole.” Tears sprang to her eyes and the cold feeling was leaving her, instead leaving behind a sense of sadness and pain and hopelessness so strong that it made her breath catch. He noticed, wrapping his arms around her as he pulled her against his chest. “I just…I just helped your mother clean the Drawing Room of your blood, and watched as she levitated her sister's body–the sister I killed–outside. I just…I just killed somebody, Draco.”

He was running his hand over her head, brushing his fingers through her matted curls. She didn’t even register that they had moved to the bathroom until the spray of hot water over her made her gasp against his chest, pulling back to look at him. He was gazing down at her, his gray eyes flitting over his face, his body trembling beneath her fingers as he grasped onto her like she was delicate but looked at her like she was strong. “I love you. I’m so sorry. I'm so sorry.” His hands were moving carefully, slowly slipping the clothes from her body as he dropped them onto the shower floor. His hand spread across her back, skin on skin on skin and she sighed at the feeling. Then her hands were on him, slowly and shakily undoing every button as she undressed him too. 

They fell asleep soaking wet, tangled up in the sheets and each other under the blankets.