When she woke the next morning, there was a brain diagnostic hanging over her head. Draco was staring at it with a drawn expression as he manipulated the reading.
It felt like being dunked into cold water. The warmth vanished, and she lay frozen for a moment, staring at all the scarlet, thread-like fractals branching through her brain. She reached up and shoved his wand away. The diagnostic disappeared.
She looked away towards the window.
There was a long silence.
“Hermione, what happened? What did he do to you? Are you going to tell me?”
She was quiet for several minutes, swallowing hard before she finally spoke.
“I'm not actually sure. He didn't know how to use legilimency, so he just — crushed things that were in the way. Even now that I have my occlumency back — there are certain spots in my memories that I can't — can't reach them anymore. It — feels like a building where parts have collapsed. I feel like if I go near or disturb it — more might fall apart.”
She pressed her lips together. “Some of the things I started to remember again — I don't know if I'll still remember them after a while. Every time I wake up, they feel like they've faded. The details are all disappearing.”
Draco's fingers brushed lightly against her cheek. “What—” his voice was tense, “what do you not remember? What's fading?”
Hermione was silent. “All the times you told me about your mother. There are gaps in those memories now.”
Draco gave a heavy sigh of relief. “That's fine. That's fine. You don't need to remember that.”
Hermione just stared out the window and swallowed again. “It's not fine. Those were important. They were important to me, that you told me, that I understood what happened to you. I'm afraid my memory is going to fall apart someday. Like there are cracks all over now, and someday something will push it wrong, and it will all break. What if I forget you again?” She couldn't hide her rising panic. “All that time in the manor, I felt like my heart had been torn out of my chest. You were right there — and I didn't know I was looking for you.”
The warmth and tranquility of the cabin suddenly felt mocking. Like it was all a daydream she was clinging to.
He turned her face so that their eyes met. “It wouldn't be the same.”
She nodded, but her mouth twisted. “I know. I know that rationally. I just—” her eyes dropped as her voice started shaking. “I don't know how to believe it. As soon as I start thinking, my heart starts pounding, and I can't breathe. Even when I try to occlude, it's like my body won't stop panicking. I should be relieved, but I'm just as terrified that I'll lose you as I was in the manor. I feel like I'm still holding on with my fingertips. Every second feels only moments away from everything falling apart and turning back into a nightmare.”
She drew a ragged breath and sat up, pressing her hand against her sternum as she made herself breathe slowly. She stared down at her wrists. “I–I thought that everything would be fixed once my manacles were off and we escaped. I thought I'd be better — the way I used to be...”
Her voice faded away.
“You must know you're reaching the point where the damage is becoming irreversible.”
She sat frozen as she recalled it.
It had always been an illusion to think her manacles were the key to everything. That some previous version of Hermione Granger was merely lying in wait, ready to step forward the moment her magic was unlocked and her occlumency returned.
The realisation felt like reaching out and touching the surface of a lake, watching the golden sunlit reflection distort and ripple away, revealing all the darkness that still lurked beneath. That showed what was really there.
Darkness gets into your soul.
Mind or body, Dark Magic extracts a price.
She'd known she'd pay for it all eventually.
Draco picked up her hand, running his thumb over her bared wrists. “It's all new. Give it time.”
She stared at him and nodded wistfully. As she studied him, she realised that there was a pained tension in his face.
She shoved the heaviness in her chest back from her awareness, walling it away, and sat up, reaching for her wand.
She pulled her satchel opened and reached for one of the pain potions. Her hand froze as she realised her potion inventory looked wrong. She counted vials and found that she was a half-dozen Blood-Replenishing Potions short. She stared for several seconds before summoning Draco's robes from where they were hung over the foot of the bed and burying her face in them.
They smelled of Dark Magic.
As she sat absorbing it, she realised she'd felt dramatically calmer ever since he'd dosed her with Dreamless Sleep Draught.
She looked over at Draco, anger flaring through her like an explosion. “You shouldn't use blood magic. Your blood is thin now. You could bleed to death if you're not careful. There's no reason to add so many enchantments to a safe house we're not even staying in for long. It was idiotic.”
Draco just stared at her through hooded eyes as she started rapidly casting spells on him.
“It helped you feel better.”
She glared at him. “Injuring and endangering yourself so I'll feel better doesn't make me feel better.”
He didn't say anything else while she checked him over and dosed him with several potions. She removed the bandages on his arm in order to change them and check how his arm was healing. The skin was knitting together smoothly, and she massaged it gently with Essence of Dittany.
She took his hand in hers and started treating his tremors for several minutes in silence.
“Don't hurt yourself for me, Draco,” she finally said in stiff voice. “Stop hurting yourself. I am so tired of that being the way we care for each other. You have no idea how much I hate it when you hurt yourself because of me. You hate it when I'm hurt. It's the same for me with you.”
He still didn't say anything. He didn't look penitent either.
While she was working on his hand, a tray with more inedible food appeared. They both took nutritional potions instead. Hermione's stock of them was beginning to run low.
She took a careful inventory of everything she had left, mentally calculating how many more days they could stay if they chose to.
“I could brew more if we want to stay longer,” she said, looking up at Draco.
“Whatever you want.” He smiled at her, but he'd dressed and put on his cloak while she was taking inventory. As she was staring at him, she noticed his eyes flicker over towards the window subtly.
“We should go.” She pulled the satchel onto her shoulder and shoved the rest of their belongings into it. “I'm sure — I'm sure it will be alright. It'll just be once.”
She pulled out a vial of Calming Draught and stared at it for several seconds before taking it. She entwined her fingers tightly with Draco's and drew a deep breath, forcing herself to occlude the anxiety rushing through her like a tidal wave before the potion activated.
She squeezed Draco's hand, running her thumb over his knuckles and stopping at the ring he wore. She looked up at him and gave a tentative smile before she reached out, grasping the brass key hanging on the wall.
There was a sharp tug behind her navel. She was snatched up, pulling Draco with her.
She tried to stay on her feet as she landed, but she stumbled forward and collapsed, retching. She wrenched her hand from Draco's and pressed the heel of her hand against her stomach as it contracted taut.