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Empire of Ants	By : crzydiamond Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 9533 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the franchise. No money is being made from this story

Chapter List
- 3
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- 5
A Guilty Conscience

“Get up,” came a gruff voice.

Even struggling to wallow out of the dredges of sleep, Draco managed to recognize the voice. He cracked one eye open to see Moody standing over him, a scowl on his weathered face. Behind him stood Tonks and Kingsley, both wearing identical grim expressions.

“I was wondering when you'd come,” Draco said dryly, gingerly pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Where's the Veritaserum?”

Moody stared at him, pursing his lips before reaching a hand into his clock and pulling out a vial of the clear liquid. “Drink up.”

Draco took the vial and uncorked it with his teeth. He raised it in a mock toast to the Aurors before swallowing it in one gulp.

“Ask away.”

“What happened with Voldemort?” Draco noticed with some admiration that Moody didn't stumble over the Dark Lord's name like most others would. “Did it turn out to be harder than you expected and you ran?” The last sentence was sneered out.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the condescension in Moody's voice before answering stiffly, “No.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Moody didn't answer and just looked at him with his good eye expectantly. Draco suddenly felt exhausted- a dull throbbing began deep in his chest but he ignored it in lieu of answering Moody's questions as quickly as possible. Memories began to well up in the dark part of his brain, things that he never wanted to have to speak about, much less to Aurors, again. He took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the stale air of the Black House before beginning his story.

“The Dark Lord gave my father a mission.”

They didn't interrupt him and he didn't stop, until he was finished.

He told them everything- Lucius' mission to find an ancient artifact the Dark Lord so desperately wanted. How Lucius' failure led to his descent into insanity.

Draco would never forget the revel when Voldemort finally lost his patience with his father's ineptitude.

Gritting his teeth, he retold the story of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's downfall- upon learning for the third time that his father had failed to find the artifact, Voldemort ordered Narcissa's death.

He fed her to Nagini in front of the entire revel.

After Lucius was reduced to a sobbing, hysterical mess on the floor as he watched Nagini's bloated form slide up and around the back of Voldemort's throne, the Dark Lord then placed an ultimatum with Draco's life. If Lucius failed once more, his son would be next.

From then on, Draco was tortured intermediately over three months, occasionally by Bellatrix who would take “mercy” and only hold him under the Cruciatus for an hour at a time. He had vicious nightmares that attacked him every night that caused the house elves to weep as they stood in his room, trying out different versions of Dreamless Droughts. He could never rid himself of the image of his mother, her pale blue eyes focused solely on him as she was swallowed by that snake. She was smiling, as if she was satisfied with the cards fate had dealt her. Draco felt like a hole had been punched through his chest, like he was only half alive. He vowed to himself that he would slice Nagini open, from head to tail if he ever got the chance. He would relish the look on the Dark Lord's face when he killed his familiar.

The day before Lucius was due to deliver the artifact for the fourth time, Draco was taken to the Dark Lord and tortured for almost ten hours straight to hasten Lucius' resolve to find the object. He was then dumped at Malfoy Manor where Lucius found him two hours later, bleeding so profusely that the steps were painted red with his blood.

For the first time in his life, Draco saw his father defy the Dark Lord. He created a portkey for Draco, that would take him to the first place that came to his mind. His thoughts traveled back to Granger, who'd offered him Grimmauld place as sanctuary. And with his eyes on his father's crumpled face, Draco was whisked away, landing on the steps of the Black family home.

And what happened after that, everyone already knew.

Draco's eyes took in the carefully blank expression on Moody's face. His gaze traveled to Tonks, who looked faintly green- he noticed her hair that'd been orange when she first came in was now a deep blue. Kingsley was looked distinctly uncomfortable, arms crossing and uncrossing across his broad chest.

“So you see, I didn't come here after having an epiphany about where my loyalties lie. I came here to avoid being eaten alive by Nagini.” He continued with a malicious glint in his eye that made Tonks shuffle uncomfortably. “And to get revenge.

Moody cleared his throat. “So in return for sanctuary, you will tell us all you know?”

Draco paused, knowing that this was the moment when he'd truly become a traitor to all of the principles he'd been bred to believe in. “Yes.”

“You will not reveal or betray any Order information to Deatheaters, Voldemort sympathizers, or Voldemort himself?”

“No.”

“Will you take a Wizarding Oath to secure this pact?”

Another pause. Then, “Yes.”

Moody's one normal eyes searched Draco's face while the other rolled about wildly in his head. “Then we have a deal Malfoy.”

An excruciating pain suddenly jolted through Draco's body- it felt like all of his injuries were being inflicted on him at once. He tensed up, his back arching from the couch like a bent bow. Blood began to drip from his palms where his nails cut deep half moons into his skin. A deep groan left his shuddering body that seemed to shock the Aurors into action- well Tonks and Kingsley anyway. Moody looked disinterested.

“I'll get Hermione,” Tonks said, quickly leaving the room. Her pounding footsteps could be heard all the way up to the third floor and then the sound of two coming back down.

Hermione burst into the room, face red and livid. “What are you doing?” she snapped at Moody who didn't turn to acknowledge her presence.

“Interrogating. He's having some sort of fit-”

“He's having a reaction to the Veritsaserum!” She pushed past Moody to kneel beside the couch, fumbling through a pouch of vials until she found a deep red potion. “I told you to wait three days! He's on an extremely powerful numbing potion but Veritaserum will denature its properties!”

Tonks seemed to pale. “So you mean...”

“The numbing potion doesn't work! Imagine going through the pain of ten Cruciatus Curses at once- it's no walk in the park.”

Draco opened his eyes and Hermione bit back a shocked gasp- his body had tensed so badly that he had popped the blood vessels in his eyes, turning the whites a murky red.

“You better hope he doesn't go into shock,” Hermione said in a venomous tone, tipping the red potion into Draco's open mouth. “Or you'll be helping me personally during his rehabilitation.”

Moody only grunted at her threat before going through the open door. Kingsley glanced at the retreating back of his superior and then at Hermione.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. Draco's body was beginning to relax- the worst of it was over. “Its okay Kingsley- you didn't know.”

“I'll talk to him,” the Auror said in his deep rumbling voice.

“No need. You know how Moody is- stubborn to the end.”

Kingsley only nodded before also leaving. He was closely followed by Tonks, who looked at Hermione apologetically before shutting the door behind her.

“That man is a menace,” Hermione muttered underneath her breath. She slipped her hands beneath Malfoy to prop him upright. He tolerated the skin on skin contact, concentrating more on the pleasant numbness flooding his body.

Another one of her shocked gasps fled from her lips- Draco glanced down and saw that her hands were covered in blood. Dimly, it registered in his mind that it was his.

She flicked her wand, simultaneously cleaning her hands and his back. The sting of the scourgify made its way through the numbing potion, causing Draco to hiss in pain. “Fuck Granger, that hurt.”

“I'm sorry about Moody,” she muttered, summoning a round of gauze to rewrap his wounds.

“I was expecting it,” Draco replied blandly. He was barely paying attention to the words leaving her mouth- he was starting to succumb to exhaustion and could barely keep his eyes open.

Another potion was poured down his throat, leaving behind a bitter, salty aftertaste. “Sleep Malfoy. You're going to need some rest.”

He didn't hear her last words- he was already asleep.

___________________________________________________________________________________

When Draco opened his eyes, it was night. He could see a sliver of moonlight that'd escaped from the heavy, drawn curtains splashed across the wooden floor. The fire was barely lit in the hearth, the logs depleted to only ash that barely fed the flames.

“Fuck,” he muttered beneath his breath as he tried to sit up. There was a tingling sensation in his legs now- he remembered Granger telling him that was a sign that the bones were healing.

His eyes scanned the room and landed on the form of Granger, tucked into an old armchair by the fireplace. Her limbs were flung at wild angles- a book was on the floor beside her. Face tightened and brow deeply furrowed, it looked as though she was witnessing something she didn't want to. Draco watched as her deep breathing quickened to a rapid pace that had her chest moving up and down wildly. Her right arm began to twitch before she unconsciously pulled it up to her face, fingers splaying across her eyes and nose.

“Granger,” he snapped as a low intensity pain began to burn in his abdomen. “Granger, get up and get me another bloody potion!”

She remained asleep, completely oblivious to his rising voice.

“Granger!” He sighed irately, pushing himself upwards with great effort to get better leverage to yell at her.

Her lips parted- for a moment Draco thought she was going to speak but she only began to mumble an incoherent mess of partially formed words. She raised her other arm to her face- suddenly her fingers delved to her sockets. He watched in fascinated horror as she tried to scramble past her lids to gauge out the vulnerable soft flesh beneath. The movements became more frenzied and he could see angry raised welts rising to the surface of her skin from her nails.

Hermione Granger was trying to dig her own eyes out.

“Shit.” Draco managed to grab the crutch placed next to the couch and hobble his way to the armchair. He shook her roughly and when that didn't wake her, opted for tearing her hands away from her face. If the Order found Granger with her eyes torn out, that'd be...unfortunate. But if they found her like that in a room with him, he'd be torn apart faster than he could name the uses for Dragon's blood.

“Granger!”

Her panic seemed to increase tenfold. Her body was completely tense, legs flailing, and her lips drew back to reveal gritted teeth. Her fingers never ceased their scrambling to get to her eyes.

He dug his hands deep into her shoulders, shaking her so hard that her head rolled wildly back and forth. “Wake up! Wake the fuck up!”

Suddenly, she opened her mouth wide.

And screamed.

It left him breathless.

It was the sound he'd catch snippets of as he walked past the torture chambers. It was the sound of the unfortunate victims at revels. It was the sound of his mother as she was being eaten alive by Nagini. It rocked him to his very core and he felt a hysteria of his own set in. He wanted to do anything to get that sound to stop.

“Granger!”

Resorting to the last option, Draco drew back his hand and delivered a hard, stinging slap to the side of Hermione's face. Her head snapped to the left with the force of impact but the screams escaping from her lungs didn't cease. A small part of him was satisfied that he was finally slapping the shit out of Hermione Granger- he dreamt of it many times while she blabbered on in class. But the rest of him was panicked- her screams started to escalate and he felt like his ear drums were about to burst,

Draco slapped her again. It seemed to help- he could see her struggling to wake up from the nightmare that plagued her. He raised his hand a third time but before he could slap her once more, her eyes shot open, wide and so full of fear that Draco almost recoiled.

A sigh of relief left him but then he realized there was a shuffling of feet he hadn't heard before. Slowly, Draco turned his head and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, realized that the entire Order was standing in the doorway. He could almost feel their eyes travel from his still raised hand to the disheveled, sobbing Hermione lying beneath him on the couch.

Bugger.

An eerie silence enveloped the room.

Then,

“You fucking bastard. I'll kill you.” The words left Ron Weasley's mouth in an icy tone that almost impressed Draco.

That feeling didn't last long because the next thing Draco saw was the enraged red head barreling towards him like a two hundred pound bludger intent on man slaughter. Ron tackled him with the force of the Hogwarts Express to the floor. Draco grunted in pain, feeling the wounds on his back tear open. His left arm which was already sprained was crushed beneath Ron's body weight, and a loud sickening crack announced to everyone in the room that it was broken.

A large freckled fist came into Draco's line of sight before it landed right in his face. Draco managed to punch Ron back, hitting his nose dead on with his good arm, feeling it break beneath his fingers. Kingsley and Remus quickly came forward, grabbing Ron by his shoulders to haul him backwards.

“I'll kill him!” Ron snarled through a face full of blood, still trying to escape the two other men's grasp.

“What is going on here?” came McGonagall's shrill voice as she pushed past the small crowd. Her hair was in rollers and she was wearing a pale pink robe with matching slippers. Draco would've smirked at her ridiculous appearance if he didn't have a rapidly swelling eye.

“We don't know,” Tonks spoke up.

All eyes went to Hermione, who was gasping in breaths of air like she'd had the life choked out of her. She looked insane, with her wide eyes, wild hair, and scratched up, wet face. Draco glared at her, willing her to talk so he would get out of this mess with all of his limbs intact. But she seemed incapable of speaking- her gaze was unfocused and she seemed completely oblivious to the fact that the entire house was standing in the drawing room, waiting for an explanation.

“She was having a nightmare,” Draco spat, dragging himself back to the couch. He gritted his teeth as his useless arm dangled at his side, sending shocks of pain throughout his body. “She was trying to dig her own fucking eyes out!”

“You're lying!” Ron roared. “She hasn't had a nightmare in months!”

“Well I guess she hasn't been telling you everything, has she?” Draco sneered.

Ron flushed an angry shade of red before trying to push past Remus and Kingsley again. “Let me go! I'm going to kill that bastard!”

“He's right.”

Shocked faces all turned to stare at the previously silent girl in the armchair. Her voice was shaky and raspy but her words were clear. “He's right Ron. He didn't do anything. I was just...having a nightmare.”

Ron's mouth dropped open. “But you told us...”

“I know what I said.” Her tone ended the potential conversation.

McGonagall pursed her lips, pushing her square glasses up her sharp nose. “Since that is settled, I believe its best if everyone returned to bed.”

Murmurs filled the room as everyone shuffled out into the hallway and up the stairs. Only Harry and Ron remained- the latter hadn't stopped staring at Hermione with a baffled expression. She bit her lip, turning her head to avoid his questioning gaze.

“Hermione-”

“Ron please. I need to heal Malfoy. We'll talk about it tomorrow okay?”

“No its not okay!”

“Ron,” came Harry's harsh reprimand. “Listen to her.” Harry barely managed to finish his sentence before Ron stormed angrily out of the room. “I'm sorry Hermione,” Harry continued with a wearied sigh. “You know how he gets.”

A pause, then a barely audible, “I know.”

“But we will be talking about this tomorrow.” It wasn't a question but a demand with no room for argument.

She rolled her eyes though there was a small on her face. “I was the one who suggested it, wasn't I?”

Harry smiled back, then left, closing the door behind him. For some reason, Draco found his eyes wandering over Granger's face- her skin still bore the red welts caused by her fingernails and she looked pallid. The disturbing image of her face, lit up by the tip of his wand, in the dungeons entered his mind. He shook his head to dispel the memory.

He grunted when a wave of her wand set his broken arm into place. “Nightmares Granger?”

“Obviously,” she replied stiffly.

“I know of something that'll stop them,” he suggested, a devious plan forming in his head. Perhaps he could convince her to slip him his wand- he felt naked and disgustingly muggle like without it.

“Dreamless Droughts don't work,” she said with a note of derision.

He snorted. “Of course they don't. Nightmares aren't exactly dreams are they?”

The sound of contemplation was almost tangible in the silent space between them. Her movements were slightly hesitant, as if she was thinking too much and not paying attention to her actions. “What do you mean?” she finally asked, biting onto his bait.

“I'll tell you if you give me my wand Granger.”

A sharp, incredulous bark of laughter escaped her. “Malfoy, you must really think I have no brain to even propose something as ridiculous as that.”

Draco sneered, “Not my loss. I'm not the one trying to gauge my own eyes out with my fingers.”

“I'd rather that than give you your wand back.”

“I've already taken an oath,” he pointed out acidly. “What harm could it do?”

“No one trusts you enough to give you back your wand- while I argued for you to stay here, it doesn't mean I trust you either.”

“Not surprising,” Draco said dryly, rolling his eyes.

“I'll be moving you to your room tomorrow anyway- so you won't have to deal with me falling asleep in here any longer.”

His pale silver eyebrows rose in interest. “A room? I was led to believe I'd spend my time on this lovely couch.”

“The room will probably offend your Malfoy sensibilities. But as you stated, its much better than this lovely couch.”

She seemed to notice that the pain was beginning to increase and instead of giving him another numbing potion, she handed him a half empty bottle of firewhiskey. He seemed shocked that she was willingly giving him alcohol but took the bottle without hesitation.

Taking a deep swig, he stared at the fire before abruptly saying, “Firewhiskey Granger.”

“What?” came her surprised reply.

“Firewhiskey. Drink enough of it and you won't dream of anything.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose, not at the blood stained bandages she was peeling away from his wounds, but at the thought of getting drunk. She wasn't a drinker and on the few occasions she did drink, she preferred wine. But wine was too expensive and growing scarce in war torn wizarding England so they were left with gallons of cheap, distilled Firewhiskey. It tasted like hot rubbing alcohol sliding down the throat, settling in the stomach with a heated heaviness that made Hermione sick.

“No thank you Malfoy.”

Draco sneered, “Prim and proper Granger, always afraid to break the rules. There's nothing wrong with drinking mudblood, especially in these times.”

“Believe me I know that.”

Most of the Order members drank on a daily basis. She didn't have a problem seeing other people drunk. It was quite amusing to see a tipsy Arthur Weasley belt muggle ballads to Molly or to see Ron, Seamus, and Dean drunkenly play Wizarding chess, a game that none of them ever won. But considering that she was one of the only Mediwitches around, it was usually her task to dole out hangover potions or sobering potions to everyone the next day.

“Besides, using it to escape problems doesn't help any.” She tried to keep the knowing tone from her voice but failed. It was hypocritical of her and Draco seemed to pick up on that fact immediately.

“Yes, because you seem so adept in that area,” Draco spat through a mouthful of alcohol. “Tell me, is lying to everyone about your nightmares a suitable way of dealing with your problems?”

Hermione didn't answer, anger swelling inside of her chest. What bothered her the most was that he was right- she had no right to judge anyone who used firewhiskey to forget. She was just as bad, lying to make everyone believe that her nightmares had subsided on their own. Not that there was anything wrong with wanting to keep it to herself.

“I suppose your silence is the answer then.” His voice sounded smug. “Perhaps you should try it- it'd make you less of an insufferable bore.”

She rolled her eyes at his insult and shook her head. “So I can get drunk and you steal your wand back? I don't have it by the way, so that plan would be futile.”

The smug look dropped from his face, replaced by a dark, cold scowl. He pressed the bottle to his lips and took a swig that left him feeling momentarily disoriented. “You caught me Granger.”

Hermione sighed, rubbing a hand over her tired face. “I'm sorry about Ron- he shouldn't have hit you.”

“Oh really?” Draco said sarcastically. “How nice of you to realize that. Though I'm sure the crowd would've loved to watch him tear me apart.”

“Thats not true Malfoy,” she protested. “Not everyone is so black-hearted-”

“Save it Granger,” he interrupted icily. I don't need pity.”

“Its not pity. I think everyone dislikes you too much to pity you.”

Lips turned slightly into a small smirk.“I wouldn't have it any other way.” His tone was empty, as if his mind was on something else.

Draco felt her eyes on him as he stared purposefully into the fire. He thought she'd get the hint to stop but it seemed she was too thick.

“I know my looks must dazzle you Granger, but its rude to stare.”

He watched her flush a pale pink.

Prude.

“I wasn't staring at your good looks. I doubt you would even call yourself handsome if you saw your face.”

He looked immediately alarmed and turned to look at her. It was the most worried she'd ever seen him and it almost made her laugh aloud. “What're you talking about Granger? Is my face damaged?”

“You're so full of yourself,” she muttered with a slight eye roll.

“Shut up and give me a mirror!”

Sighing in indignation, Hermione conjured a small hand mirror and gave it to him. Using his good arm to the best of his ability, Draco raised the mirror to his face, bracing himself for the worst.

His left eye was blackened and swollen as a result of Ron's powerful left hook. He looked paler than usual and he noticed a wound running through his eyebrow, missing his eye and panning out on the top of his cheekbone- it looked a healthy pink, as if it was healing and hopefully it wouldn't leave a large scar. As he turned his head to observe it, he vainly thought that it'd make him look a little more roughish. There was another small wound on his chin, but other than that, his face was fine. It was his body that took the brunt of the physical torture.

Thankfully, he noted with a sigh of relief.

He shoved the mirror back at Hermione, scowling. “Very funny Granger.”

She smiled, more so to herself. “I couldn't resist Malfoy.”

“So you were staring at me,” he sneered.

“No.” There was a pause in which the only sound was that of her hands rubbing a healing salve onto the angry wounds on his back. “I was...Even though I asked why. Why they tortured you, I mean, I knew.”

Draco stiffened, his fingers curling into tight fists at his side. “What the fuck are you babbling about?”

“Your mother Malfoy. She was sending letters to Andromeda. She...she knew what Voldemort had planned for her. She was asking for sanctuary-”

“Shut your filthy mouth.”

“-she asked us to take her in and you, of course-”

The tray next to the couch knocked to the floor as Draco twisted faster than Hermione could blink. His hand encircled her wrist, tightening so hard that it made her whimper in pain.

“You don't know a fucking thing Granger,” he hissed in such a venomous tone that Hermione had to avoid his gaze. His eyes looked murderous, as if he wanted to release her and instead wrap his hand around her throat.

“I'm...I'm sorry.”

Draco dropped her wrist as if she was made of fire. “I don't need pity Granger. Just get the fuck out.” When she didn't move, his voice rose to a thundering yell that made her jump. “Get the fuck out!”

Hermione stood, trying to keep herself from trembling in the wake of his anger. “Its not pity,” she said softly. “Its called empathy. I know what its like to...loose a parent.”

“You just don't know when to shut up do you? I don't care about you or your fucking parents! I don't give a shit about anyone in this house! So stop talking to me like we're friends Granger!”

Her mouth opened and shut a few times before she narrowed her eyes at him , crossing her arms over her chest. “I argued for you Malfoy. They wanted to throw you out and I argued on your behalf! I've spent more time healing you than I have sleeping!”

“So I suppose I should thank you then,” he sneered nastily. “The mighty Granger, reaching out to help the unfortunate Deatheater-”

“If you remember it was a life debt. You chose to come here so don't blame that on me.”

He raised himself as far up as he could go, face twisted with fury. “This is all your fucking fault! You should've left me where I was! You should've walked over me like I would've done to you!”

“You didn't have to save me Malfoy. I never asked you to. If you regret it so much, why did you?”

All the fight seemed to suddenly leave him as he fell back against the couch. “I don't know. I shouldn't have. I should've just left you in the dungeons to be killed.”

“But you didn't.” He vaguely heard her step closer until she slipped her hands around his back, propping him up once more so she could finish with his wounds. “And even though we're not friends Malfoy...we probably never will be.... even though you hate me. I am grateful to you. I don't do this out of pity...do you get it? I owe you Malfoy, as loathe as I am to admit it. Not just a life debt. Much more than that.”

“I don't want anything from you.”

Hermione shook her head. “I'm going to heal you Malfoy. Thats it. And then our debt will be done with. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought up your mother.”

Draco gritted his teeth- her apologizing made things even worse. How was it that something as filthy as her made him feel so disgusting? Her...kind heart made him want to vomit. For Merlin's sake, she actually made him feel guilty for yelling at her- he never felt guilt, ever before in his life. As a Malfoy, that emotion was not in their vocabulary. Not when he'd killed or maimed or tortured.

It was because she saved his life. Willingly. Naively.

Even though the debt was fulfilled, there would always be a thin strand of magic connecting them. No matter how hard Draco wanted to forget that anything of the sort every existed between them, he would never be able to- always he would feel...this sense of obligation towards her. And he hated her for that- hated her almost as much as he hated Voldemort for killing his mother.

The two of them were inexorably tied together. Not necessarily by a bond, but by how she'd changed him without even realizing that she turned his world on its head.

Draco felt the need to be rid of her. To be free of her presence. “Just leave Granger.”

“I'm almost done,” came her soft reply. “Let me finish Malfoy and I'll leave you alone.”

“Now.”

Her hands stilled. “Fine. I'll finish in the morning.”

“Don't bother,” he spat. “Send someone else. I'm done. I'm done with you.”

Draco expected a fiery reply. Almost hoped for a fiery reply. But she only looked at him before shaking her head. “Alright.”

Shock stole the retort from his lips. He hadn't really expected her to pack up and give up so easily- he expected her to be stubborn and to argue. There was a piece of him that wanted that- it would alleviate some of the guilt eating away at him on the inside.

He watched her pack up all of the supplies and return the now quarter full bottle of firewhiskey to the self. She put out the floating candles, bathing the room in darkness. Her hand on the door knob, she turned and opened her mouth as if to say something but she just shut the door and left.

Groaning, Draco laid down, glad to close his eyes once again.

Granger wouldn't be coming back.

He should've felt relieved.

For some reason, he didn't. He was left wondering who she would send to tend to him- if there was anyone even willing to take up the job. He was a nasty piece of work, he knew, and it would take someone with an infinite amount of patience to deal with healing him. He was left wondering if they would be like her...care like she did. Spend late nights carefully re-healing his wounds.

He should've felt relieved.

But the departure of Hermione Granger left him feeling the exact opposite.
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Empire of Ants