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Nightmares	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 12275 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from this writing.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Second Appointment

Hermione knocked on the door of Malfoy Manor, waiting only a few moments before the door swung open, revealing Dippy, who led her to Malfoy’s office. She entered to see the Pensieve already waiting, and Malfoy leaning back in his chair, his body facing the clock, but his head swiveled to see her come in.
“Good afternoon, Granger.” He said formally, standing, and pulling his wand out. Hermione gave him a curt nod, ready to jump right into the memories, and avoid all possible conversation. She could feel her cheeks heating already with embarrassment of the previous day. His face looked better, sporting only a few yellowed bruises on his chin, and under his eye.
“I’m ready whenever you are.” She urged, as he pulled silvery white mist from his head, spilling it into the basin.
“All ready.” He announced, prodding it with his wand. Hermione viewed the room that swam on the surface and took a calming breath, diving in, and taking in the scene that developed around her.
She was in Malfoy’s bedroom again, looking at herself asleep on the bed, and Malfoy entering from the door, as another materialized beside her.
“How long?” She asked, noting the darkened room, and exhaustion written across the pale memory’s face.
“Nearly twenty-four hours. The Dark Lord required my services elsewhere.” Malfoy said with a slight shiver, watching as his own self walked to the bed, and leaned over, careful not to disturb her as he waved his wand, checking her for signs of abuse, or neglect in his absence. The ghost of a smile flitted across his face before he moved to his desk, and sank into his chair, his head immediately falling to his folded arms, and darkness swirling around them as he passed out. The memory reformed before Hermione could complain about the lack of light, and Malfoy jerked awake at his desk, sitting straight up, and looked around. Morning light filtered through heavy curtains, and he rubbed his eyes, looking around, and shooting up from his chair in panic when he noticed Hermione missing.
“Granger? Granger!” He called, peering into the empty bed, and looking at the door to go out in panic.
“What?” Hermione’s head appeared around the bathroom door, and he sagged back to his chair in relief.
“I was afraid you were gone.” He gasped, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself.
“Well I’m just in here. I’ll be out in a moment.” She said, and shut the door. The pair watched Draco mutter to himself, and pick up a book, opening it to the first page, and begin to read.
Hermione reappeared a few moments later, and grabbed her own book, plopping herself into the comfy chair across from the mirror.
“Ugh.” Malfoy groaned, looking up. “Why did you brush your hair?”
“It was tangled.” Hermione answered shortly, ignoring his pained expression, and bewildered tone. He sighed, and turned back to his book, trying not to notice the bushy brunette nest that swished with her every movement. He kept glancing up, and eventually gave in to his obvious need to say something.
“Granger, your hair is distracting me, go wash it.” He ordered, looking imperious, and annoyed.
“What? No! I just brushed it! If I wash it now, it’ll just get tangled again.” She argued petulantly.
“Go. Now. Or I’ll drag you in there and do it for you.” He demanded, setting the book aside to show he was serious. Hermione huffed, and stalked back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Malfoy muttered, and stood, making his way out of the room. The memory swirled, and Draco re-entered the room, a bag clutched in his hand.
“What happened, where’d you go?” Hermione asked, looking around to see herself sitting in the chair once again, her hair damp from a fresh wash, and her cheeks pink as she turned her head to avoid Malfoy’s entrance as she pulled the brush through her tangled curls.
“Stop. You’re going to make it worse.” Malfoy admonished, tossing the bag to a small table, and yanking the brush from her hand when she ignored him.
“Hey! Give it back!” She snatched for it, and missed, as he tossed it across the room, letting it land with a fwump on the bed. Hermione stood to get it, but Malfoy’s hand on her shoulder pulled her right back to the chair, ignoring her protests as he opened the small bag and pulled a comb out, rolling his eyes as he grabbed a bit of her hair and began sifting the comb through. Hermione crossed her arms and glared at the wall again as he combed her hair, ignoring the fact that she was cooperating as he turned her head, and tilted it back, scooping the curls into a sleek curtain.
“Don’t touch it.” He dictated, leaving the comb on the table, and moved back to his desk.
Hermione could see her mouth moving, but couldn’t hear the words, too quiet for him to have caught. She could imagine what she’d be saying about him, though.
She watched a few moments of them sitting in silence before she sped through again, stopping when he pushed away from the desk, and turned to face her.
“There, see? It’s much better.” He complimented, eyeing the curls that fell around her face in long spirals, instead of as a bush.
Hermione harrumphed and otherwise ignored him, turning a page in her book.
“I have a meeting to attend, but I’ll be back later. I shouldn’t be gone as long this time.” He announced, moving to the door, and glancing back at her disregarding stance. The room darkened once more as he stepped out, swirling back into view as he entered. Hermione was asleep on the bed again, the light left on, and a book under her hand. He tiptoed over and removed the book, marking her page, and set it aside, before pulling his wand out, and waving it over her, transfiguring her shorts and t-shirt into a nightgown. He pulled the blankets over her and sat at his desk, watching her sleep for a moment before he began reading once more, determined to glean all the knowledge he could before the pregnancy got too far underway.
His head began to loll, and the room darkened, leaving them for a brief moment of nothingness, before the scene regrouped, Bellatrix bursting in, and Draco waking up from his nap.
“Skip it.” Draco’s voice was flat, his eyes hollow as he watched his aunt scream at him. Hermione obliged, waving her wand, and skipping past what she’d already seen, stopping to see Draco floating under the water once more, coming up gasping for breath, sputtering.
Hermione followed him from the bathroom, watching as he stared down at her unconscious body on the bed, her fresh nightdress revealing her calves and bare feet. He sank down next to her, and she sat up, needing no verbal commands to follow his instructions. He summoned the comb, and began pulling through her hair for the second time that day, his shoulders shaking as he detangled the damp veil.
Hermione realized he was crying, his fingers shaking slightly as he combed through her locks, his breathing ragged as he set the comb down, and began parting her hair, folding it into a simple braid. Hermione felt strange watching him treat her like an oversized doll, but by the time he’d finished braiding her hair and laid her back down, he’d stopped his quiet crying, dried his eyes, and sat back in his desk chair. He waved his wand at her, slashing away his controlling spell, and instantly, Hermione stirred awake, rubbing her eyes as she looked around, instantly finding Malfoy.
“You’re back? How long was I asleep?” Her voice was clear, not the sleep-filled tone one might’ve expected to hear.
“A few hours.” His voice was just as clear. No hint of his emotions remained except the slight redness around his insomnia-bruised eyes. If she hadn’t seen the cause with her own eyes, the current Hermione would’ve chalked the ruddy color up to the same lack of sleep that’d caused it previously.
“Oh. But…” The memory girl looked down at herself, confused by the nightgown, her fingers touching the tight braid that had suddenly appeared in her sleep. Then her eyes found the clock. Malfoy’s head was bent over his book, his shoulders slightly hunched, but his eyes didn’t move to follow the words. “Malfoy… What happened while I was asleep?”
He set the book on his lap and finally looked at her, meeting the suspicious brown gaze.
“Bellatrix came in. I’ve since reinforced the wards on the door, and had to use the imperius on you to get her to leave.”
Hermione watched herself shudder.
“Did… Did anything… happen?” She’d pulled the wet braid over her shoulder, her sharp eyes taking in the dampness of Draco’s hair. He rubbed his face, pinched the bridge of his nose, and finally looked back up.
“You already know something happened. Do you really want details?” He fixed her with a pointed stare, and Hermione watched herself balk. She considered carefully, her face fixed in a thoughtful expression as she met Draco’s stare minute for minute.
“I think I can imagine well enough.” She finally declared, and Draco seemed to sag with relief, leaning back into his chair. “But I have one question.”
His whole body went stiff again, and Hermione watched him carefully, searching for any indication of a lie.
“Was it just her?”
He looked sick, his eyes filled with agony as he clearly contemplated lying. He might even have gotten away with it.
“Her and I.” He admitted, dropping his stare back to the floor. Hermione swallowed, clearly having more questions, but choking nearly all of them back.
“Ok, then. That’s all I need to know.” She nodded, as if to solidify her words, and looked around the bed in an almost lost fashion before lying back down and closing her eyes. A few moments passed before Malfoy sighed, and laid his head on the desk, cushioned by his arms, his face buried. The memory held for a few more tense minutes, before the blackness swirled around them, bringing a close to the horrifying day.
Draco gripped her shoulder and pulled her from the pensieve, leaving them separated by his desk once more. His face was blank, forcedly so, and Hermione forced her own face to remain impassive in the wake of remembering that it was that particular scene that had caused her miscarriage. She took a deep shuddering breath, and cast about for anything to distract herself from the distress.
“That wasn’t really a full day, shouldn’t I get another, since I’ve already seen most of that one?” She demanded. He stared at her a moment, and then nodded mutely, pulling another silvery strand from his temple, and allowing it to float for a second before leaning into it.
Hermione followed, taking another calming breath before she let the memories swirl around her, trying hard not to think of how in the next memory, her pregnancy would already be failing.
- 14
- 15
- 16
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Nightmares