Hermione closed the book and nodded. They'd sent each other several notes via house-elves, but she hadn't seen Ginny for more than a few minutes since the day they'd arrived.
Ginny picked her way through the rooms into the bedroom and then paused, looking at Draco for several seconds before glancing away and conjuring a small chair.
They sat staring at each other for several minutes. There was apprehension in Ginny's eyes as she studied Hermione. Hermione's gripped Draco's hand as she waited for Ginny to say something.
Ginny stared at their hands and then looked away, shifting uncomfortably. “I didn't — I didn't realise how intense you'd be with each other. I mean, I knew Malfoy was intense, but I guess I didn't expect you'd — that it wasn't just Malfoy — that you're both — that way.”
Hermione could see the concern in Ginny's eyes. She didn't say anything.
Ginny had a wand in her hand, and she kept tossing it from one hand to the other. When she realised she was toying with her wand, she stopped and stared down at her hands for a moment. “You know, he didn't give me a wand for the first year.”
Hermione didn't know what to say. She traced her fingers over the tooled cover of her book.
“It was probably for the best,” Ginny said, her mouth twisting wryly. “I tried to murder him about a dozen times anyway. The last thing I remembered was being drugged with something on a lab table, and then I woke up here, alone. The first time he came, he told me everyone was dead but you, and I threw a steak knife at him. Later he told me about what you'd been doing during the war — that you'd—” Ginny's expression twisted faintly, “you'd been with him — I didn't believe him at all. I mean — I had thought there might've been someone you were with, but not — Malfoy. But when he said how it happened — it did sound like you...” Ginny's voice faded away.
She looked down and cleared her throat. “But it was Malfoy. He killed Dumbledore. His dad—” her hand brushed over the ragged scar on her cheek. “The Malfoys have always hated Muggle-borns. And then Malfoy kept claiming he was going to bring you here but not. So, I assumed it was a trick. I thought Voldemort was planning to do something to James once he was born.”
“I'm sorry,” was all Hermione could think to say.
Ginny shifted. “I–I tried to kill myself. I got pretty close a few times.” She avoided Hermione's eyes and fidgeted with the ends of her hair. “Malfoy came every couple days at the beginning, bringing clothes and supplies, and then showing up with all the books and stuff in here — saying you'd need something to do once he found you.”
Hermione's fingers, entwined with Draco's, twitched.
Ginny stared at their hands again before looking back at her wand. “The day I gave birth, I–I nearly smothered James. I was so afraid Malfoy would show up and take him away to Voldemort. He came a few hours later in wedding robes. He was so relieved I was still alive. I think it was the first time I saw an actual emotion on his face. Apparently he'd been sure I was going to die during childbirth — not that he actually seemed to care about us, it was more like James and I were priorities on a checklist. But — he was less — controlled that day. I was so angry at him, I asked if he was late because he'd been marrying you, given that he supposedly cared so much about you.”
Ginny drew a quick breath. “I didn't think he gave a damn about anything I could say about him. I'd said pretty much everything at that point. But when I asked about him marrying you, he turned white and said no, it was someone else. He didn't come as often after that.”
Ginny stared at Draco. “It was like watching someone starve to death. He would bring things that were obviously supposed to be for you, but he stopped — I don't know how to describe it. He didn't act like you'd be alright when you got here anymore. That was when he started getting so obsessed with the wards.”
Hermione looked down, her stomach knotting.
“The last time I saw him was last summer. He said, all the traveling had made Voldemort suspicious, and he wouldn't be allowed to leave Britain anymore. He said, if he found you, Snape would bring you here, and reminded me that you were the only reason I was alive and then threatened me if I didn't swear I'd take care of you. That's when he gave me a wand. I didn't see him again until you both got here last week.”
Ginny looked down and twisted her wand in her hands. “Once I had a wand again, I made a Wizarding Wireless the way Fred and George used to, and started getting the paper. It comes weeks late, but I finally started finding out what was happening. I–I knew it had to be bad but — I never thought—” Ginny's face crumpled, and she couldn't meet Hermione's eyes. “I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”
Hermione wasn't sure what Ginny was apologising for. She looked down at the book on her lap. “It wasn't your fault. You'd only been an Order member for a few months before you got pregnant. It's not as though you could have changed anything.”
Ginny gnawed at her lip and looked down. “I knew you saw the war differently than Harry and Ron did, but — I didn't realise how differently until I found out what you'd done. I don't think anyone realised you saw it so differently you'd be willing to — to—”
Hermione just stared at Ginny, suddenly feeling too exhausted to have the conversation. “I would never ask anyone to do anything I wasn't willing to do first. I thought you all would have known that about me.”
Ginny paled, her skin turning so starkly white it made the scar stand out violently against her features. “I know. I do know that. I just — I believed in Harry. I believed what he did about the war about the power of love. On the battlefields you'd see the worst in people, but you'd also see the best. I thought maybe you just didn't get to see that from the hospital wing. But you were right — you were always right, and that must have made it worse for you than anyone — because you stayed with us the whole time knowing it.”
Hermione's chest tightened, it was as though Ginny had touched an agony she'd forgotten she still carried. She pressed her lips together and squeezed Draco's hand.
There were tears silently sliding down Ginny's face. “I'm sorry that I didn't want to believe you. You should never have had to do what you did.”
Hermione started to reply, but Ginny kept going. “I don't want you to feel like you need to forgive anything. What happened — everything that happened — you don't need to be alright with it. You shouldn't make yourself be alright with it. You deserve to be angry. Don't — don't feel like you need to get over everything. I don't want you to feel like you're trapped for the rest of your life because people forced you to make promises to them.”
Hermione stiffened and she pulled Draco's hand more closely to herself.
Ginny's eyes dropped down, and her mouth tensed as she saw it. “I don't just mean with Malfoy. I know you promised Harry you'd take care of James and me. I want you to know you don't have to. You've done more than anyone should ever have asked from you. You were right, it's time someone else does something. It shouldn't be you anymore. You deserve to actually make choices. That's what being free is. So don't — don't spend the rest of your life being chained up by old promises. Not to anyone. Not Harry or me — or Malfoy.”
Ginny stood up sharply. “I just needed to say all of that. I needed to say it at least once. You—” Ginny stared at Hermione, her eyes pained as they rested briefly on the undeniable swell of Hermione's stomach. “I'm so glad you escaped. You deserve to be free now. Really free. Not just as much as other people will let you.”
Ginny's fingers darted up to her face and brushed rapidly across her cheeks as she slipped out of the room.
Hermione stared down at Draco's hand entwined with hers for a moment before looking at his face. “You can stop pretending to be asleep.”