“It takes a while to get used to,” Ginny said as she watched Hermione. “Most of the walls slide, so you can open the house and rooms up so that it's open, or section them off. Malfoy — he said you didn't like it if it's too open, so I had the elves put all the walls up.”
Ginny slid open a second set of wooden doors facing the doors they had entered through. It revealed a room with a large circular window that looked over treetops and the ocean beyond.
The furniture reminded Hermione of Malfoy Manor, spindly Victorian chairs and chaises.
Hermione's hand slid slowly to her pocket, and she gripped her wand tightly as she stared at the window.
She forced herself to take a few hesitant steps forward and then froze, trying to absorb it. She was certain the building was already enchanted to be calming or Draco wouldn't have left so quickly. Still, she wanted Draco to be there, beside her, where she knew he was safe.
They were never going back.
He would never go back.
She squeezed her eyes shut and reassured herself of it.
If she could see him, she'd feel more convinced of it. She'd feel more certain that it wasn't a beautiful dream that would turn to dust the moment she really let herself believe it.
She should be with Draco. He might use blood magic again. She didn't know if he had any Blood-Replenishing Potion with him.
Instead she was with Ginny, whose brown eyes were conflicted and sad as she watched Hermione stand motionless in the doorway.
Hermione pressed her lips together and made herself refocus, trying to think of something to say. “Where's James? It's — James, right?”
Ginny gave a hesitant smile. “Yes. James. He's napping. He sleeps a few hours every afternoon. I'd take you to see him, but he's a nightmare about sleeping and if he wakes up, it'll be a terrible introduction.” Ginny reached out slowly and touched Hermione's arm. “Let's go to your room. You're so thin. You should eat something and then lie down.”
Hermione nodded slowly and looked away from the open sea.
“The house sprawls.” Ginny slipped a hand into Hermione's and squeezed it. “It's not magical aside from the protection, so you don't have to worry about the hallways rearranging themselves or anything like that. There's a massive web of protective magic here though. I thought Grimmauld Place had a lot of wards, but this place leaves Grimmauld in the dust as far as paranoia goes. Malfoy is absolute nut about it. Every time he came, he'd spend at least an hour adding more wards.”
The house was fitted against a large forested hill. The portkey had dropped them near the top of the hill, and the rest of the house flowed in a vague U-shape, down over boulders and around the trees, as though it had been fitted there like a puzzle piece.
It wasn't one building, but dozens that were joined by the roofs and bridges that connected to the veranda of each building. There was a large, lush garden in the centre.
Ginny pointed to things along the way.
“That's my vegetable garden over there,” Ginny said, “it gets the best sunlight. It used to have roses, but I was dying of boredom and the elves moved them so that I could have a patch with something to do. I'm — I've actually become quite a cook, like Mum. Harry used to cook too. He'd bring me breakfast sometimes, you know...” Ginny's voice faded away, and she stood at the top of a moon bridge staircase that overlooked a pond with large koi fish swimming in it. “God — I would give anything to have a picture.”
She looked over at Hermione and gave a wistful smile. “It's so weird finally having someone to talk to who isn't a house-elf. Anyway, your rooms are all here, on this side of the house, and James and I are just across the garden, in those rooms.” Ginny pointed to the left. She slid two doors apart and stepped back.
It opened into a room about the size of Hermione's bedroom at the manor. It was crammed to the ceiling with walls of books. A wing-backed chair was in one corner, and a secretary desk was in another. There were thousands of books. The shelves were all full despite the obvious use of expansion charms, and there were boxes and stacks of more books covering most of the floor.
Hermione stepped through the doorway and turned around, taking it all in.
“Malfoy brought all this,” Ginny said from behind her. “I guess that's probably obvious.”
There were doors on three of the walls. Hermione slid one open and peered through to find a potion and alchemy lab, stocked with cauldrons, jars and jars of materials, and foraging baskets that hung from hooks overhead. Her fingers twitched against the wooden door, and her throat tightened as she slid it closed.
“He'd visit, verify James and I weren't dead, add wards, and then spend most of his time here. He came a lot — back at the beginning, but then less as time went on. He'd bring the weirdest stuff sometimes, and always excused it saying you'd need things to keep you occupied. The gardening stuff was actually for you too. I hope you don't mind that I stole it.”
Hermione shook her head as she slid the other set of doors open and found a sitting room with more shelves filled with books.
There were curtained windows. Hermione slowly brushed one aside and was relieved not to find another cliffside ocean view. The window looked into a bamboo grove.
Hermione stared for a few moments before dropping the curtain down again.
There was another large set of doors on the far side of the sitting room. The wall and doors were painted with a forest shrouded in mist.
Hermione slid the doors apart and found a bedroom. The room was dark, with curtains hanging down most of the walls. There was a low dresser and mirror. Hermione caught sight of her reflection and discovered she looked like a startled deer.
Too thin.
Still wearing the same clothes she'd worn cutting off Draco's arm and escaping.
She'd been so desperate to tear off her surrogate uniform, but as she looked at her reflection she felt an equal desire to burn the riding clothes. There had to be fresh clothes here. Something else to wear. Something that wasn't drenched in a nightmare.
She looked at the dresser and then glanced over towards Ginny.
Ginny's expression was still tense, her fingers had wandered up and were toying with the tips of her hair. She glanced around the rooms, appearing uncomfortable standing in them. “I didn't know if you'd want to be here, or over with me and James. You don't need to be here at all. I just wanted to make sure you know you'll have space and privacy if you want it. I—” Ginny's voice broke off, and she took a deep breath. “I'm so glad you're finally here.”
Hermione nodded slowly. She glanced around the room. “No. This is nice. I'm still — getting used to things. It's been so long since—” she swallowed and ran her fingers across the linen duvet on the bed, “I think some space will be best.”
Ginny nodded, but her eyes grew pained. “You'll come be with us sometimes though — won't you? James has never seen any other humans but me and Malfoy. I've told him so many stories about you and Harry and Ron—”
“Of course. I just mean—” Hermione found herself at a loss for how to explain it to Ginny. “None of this seems real yet. What we did—” her chest tightened. “It was such a gamble. We still don't know if it worked all the way.”
She felt for her wand. Fifteen more minutes and Draco would be back.
Ginny cocked her head to the side. “I was wondering about that? How exactly was it supposed to work? Malfoy just said you were attempting an escape by cutting his Dark Mark off and using Lucius. But — Malfoy will go back eventually, because he made an unbreakable vow to defeat Voldemort, right?”
Hermione tensed so rigidly she thought her spine might snap. “No. He can't go back. He's never going to go back. He's going to stay here now, with me,” Hermione said in a flat voice.