Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Hermione was staring down the white walls of her room. She was being haunted – that was the only way to explain it. To explain the nightmares and the vivid dreams that held her under for too long. Those same dreams that felt like a reality. Those dreams that sent her spiralling daily for the longest time. She was told time and time again how this was all in her head, this is why she was here, in this “safe place”. She knew if she questioned it too much, she'd know exactly what it was…an insane asylum.
The war was said to have traumatised her. The cursed blade that carved that ugly word into her arm on the floor of Malfoy Manor had driven her to the brink of pure, unadulterated madness. Committing crimes against her own side, against the other Order members. The press had labelled her as insane, needing medical attention. Somewhere far away from the cameras and far away from others so she couldn't cause anyone else any harm. That's how she wound up here, all alone.
Hermione was staring at the wall again, blood suddenly running down it,in more than one streak, not stopping until it began to pool on the floor. Why was it always blood on the walls? Her hold on reality was slipping further and further away with each drop that landed on the floor.
“Morning, Hermione.” The voice of the Healer Boone startled her. She barely moved however, providing him with a simple glance. Healer Boone was a stuffy old wizard with a rounded beer belly, a moustache and beard, and deep-set blue eyes. If Hermione squinted, he may have reminded her of the Muggle’s imaginary Santa Claus. Unlike Santa, however, he didn't bring her joy.
Hermione turned her head to the wall, not saying a word. She knew he was here to check on her, to see if she's made progress on accepting the truth. He would give her a few potions to relax her mind and body, and maybe he could coerce her into believing his truth, his idea of the events she lived through. No one would ever truly know or maybe they just didn't care anyway.
Hermione was simply stuck in this room. Relaxing her nerves always felt better but somehow she also felt worse. She wasn't allowed to interact with others. A “Danger to Society”.
Hermione knew, deep down, that they were afraid of her. While her room restricted and deprived her of her magic, the rest of the asylum did not.
Even the Healers thought the rumours were true. They never showed her an ounce of trust. They were here to judge her, accepting lies as truth. She was allowed supervised visits to the gardens and even then she could feel the wards stop her from performing the true magic that would one day flow through her veins again.
“How are we doing today?” Healer Boone moved to sit down on the chair beside her cot.
She looked away from the wall and down at her hands. Her hands were on top of a hospital gown. She was still in the bloody hospital gown. The same type of gown they first put her in after the Aurors found her.
She didn't reply to Boone; what was the point when no one believed her, anyway? She turned her head back to the wall. It was white again. She sighed internally, wishing she could remember more than just blood. Blood on the walls, blood on the floor…..there was never any blood on her hands. It kept the little flickering light of hope alive in her.
“Here are your daily potions, Hermione.” He placed them on the side table within arms reach. She refused to look his way. After all, he was the one still keeping her caged. Healer Boone would always remind her that it wasn't him keeping her here, it was her mind. Her cursed, awfully powerful, terrifying mind. He was always trying to break her.
“It would be wise to drink them today, because as of tomorrow, you might be free from here,” Boone spoke. Hermione found his voice annoying, but he got her attention. From the corner of her eye, she looked him over, wondering what in the world he was referring to.
“As long as someone claims you, that is.” Boone set the Daily Prophet clipping down on her cot. Hermione didn't move, didn't want to touch the paper until she knew she wasn't being watched by him.
Soon enough, Hermione was alone again. She had grown to love the feeling of being alone now. At first, she couldn't handle being by herself. At first, she would talk to them – but now everything was bleak. It didn't matter.
Her thin hands moved over the clipping, unfolding it open. She tried to read the article as her hands shook.
“New Ministry Law Will Change How We See The Cursed Ones,” Hermione read the title in her head. Of course it was Rita Skeeter reporting. Hermione huffed at the dramatics. Her eyes zoomed to find a date, find a time, anything that could tell her how long she'd been here. She was deprived of the simple things like time. She sighed when she noticed it wouldn't tell her what day it was, the ends of the article glamoured from her.
She continued reading on, observing the information.
“As the Ministry tries to move past the war, the Wizengamot was unanimous in their vote of releasing those deemed as ‘cursed’. As long as another witch or wizard is able and willing to claim them, the convicts will be allowed to re-enter wizarding society. Their wands will be monitored until shown that they are capable of living in the new world without harming others.”
A silent tear rolled down her cheek and onto the paper. She knew her fate was sealed. No one was coming for her, to claim her. Harry was the one who arrested her…and Ron? Well, he could go to hell. It was his fault she wound up here to begin with.
(Artwork by Bekazimi.art in Instagram)
Draco's leg was bouncing rapidly with nerves, but he had an understanding with the Wizengamot. During the war, he accepted Dumbledore’s help, becoming a double agent instantly for the Order of the Phoenix. He worked closely with the “Golden Trio”, becoming their informant, making sure they avoided the raids. He helped Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley on their hunt for the last of Voldemort’s horcruxes. What he couldn't avoid was the cursed blade his maddened aunt took to Hermione's arm.
Five years later and he still felt guilty. Guilty for letting them get caught, guilty for not stopping Bellatrix, guilty for the aftermath of what everyone claimed Hermione had done. Hermione had turned on the Weasleys a week after the battle, and Harry arrested her as an Auror trainee. Draco still wondered where the Weasel was, disappearing the minute his family was ripped to shreds.
There was something about the story, something that just didn't sit right with him, and that's why he was here now.
Draco felt someone sit on the bench next to him. Theodore Nott slipped a small envelope over Draco’s clenched fists. Neither of them looked at each other as Draco grabbed the thick parchment.
“Unless someone claims her, she won't be free,” Theo's voice was low. “They are afraid of the secrets she holds. She might not ever get out. However, that number in the envelope may sway three of them, enough for you to take control of the situation.”
“Do it,” Draco didn't need to look once nor twice. He knew she was worth all the secrets, all the money in his vaults. Theo nodded.
“She's the last one on the roster. I'll get it sorted.” The tall curly haired man stood up, his formal black robes flowing after him. Theodore Nott was his best mate since they were in nappies. Together they could be serious, goofy, or downright crass. The war made it impossible for them to all be together. When things were finally over, they found each other again. With Theo, along came Pansy and Blaise, who all now lived in the Manor with him. His father had ended his own life after the war, seemingly wanting to avoid the punishment for his crimes. His mother was diagnosed with a broken heart, having passed a mere three days after.
Draco was thankful for the company, as the Manor always felt too big.
Pansy sat down next to him. Her short black hair was pinned behind her ears. She had on a black muggle dress that reached past her knees when she sat down, with grey robes over her shoulders.
“You need to Occlude if you're going to get through this. Your nerves are showing”, she tapped his knee before looking straight ahead at the Wizengamot. The members started filing in, one by one. Theo waltzed back, sitting on the bench behind Draco and Pansy. Draco closed his eyes, building the brick wall he always did when Occluding. He was never creative enough to make it more than a dark brick wall.
He opened his eyes, he wills the walls of his mind to build,spitting them in place. His eyes no longer held a glint of emotions. His leg stopped shaking as he watched the Minister for Magic enter the room.
The room went silent as the Minister, Kingsley Shackebolt, brought his gavel to the podium, banging it hard. Kingsley instantly became the Minister once the war was over.
“Thank you all for gathering here today,” He spoke to the crowd, the photographers, and the reporters. “We are here to file the official documentation for those who have been institutionalised since the ending of the war five years ago.” His voice was robotic, detached from the words that he spoke.
“First we have Lavender Brown, cursed by the werewolf known as Fenrir Greyback. Miss Brown has made impressive measures within the ward; treatments have been going well and she has regained nearly full movement throughout her body. A request has been made for her to be released into the custody of War Hero, Ronald Billius Weasley.”
Pansy gasped ever so slightly, low enough for only Draco to hear. Theo put his hand on her shoulder, steadying her. Draco narrowed his eyes looking around the room, trying to find the Weasel he hadn't seen in five years.
Weasley stepped forward from somewhere in the crowd of reporters, Potter following behind him.
“That's correct, sir.” Weasley spoke up, his voice firm. He was wearing black robes with red accents. His hair looked shorter, tamed down to the side as if he actually drug a comb through it, for once.
Potter was standing next to him in his formal Auror uniform, his wand was holstered at his side. Draco's held on tight to the brick wall in his mind. Theo sighed behind them, rubbing the back of his head.
“What a waste,” Pansy clipped, folding her arms across her chest, leaning into the back of the bench.
The list went on, naming many of their former classmates: Susan Bones, Marietta Edgecombe, Angelina Johnson, Ernie Macmillan, Dean Thomas, and Zacharias Smith. Most of the named wizards and witches went through the treatments for awful curses such as Crucio, and all were released to either family members or loved ones.
There was a pause from the Minister. His eyes looked through the parchment flipping it forward and then back. He took a moment looking around the room, the room suddenly becoming silent as he cleared his throat.
“Now to speak on the release of Miss Hermione Granger. We are all aware of the horrific crimes committed by Miss Granger against the Weasley Family. After five years, she has not made any significant progress, and still refuses to admit her guilt. We are here to find out if anyone would be willing to take custody of her. She will be allowed her wand, but will be heavily monitored. Her place of residence would have to be heavily warded by the Wizengamot as she is still considered a danger to society. At this time, It is unclear if she will ever be fully assimilated to the new world.”
Draco stood instantly, moving to the steps. He shuffled past the crowd, taking two steps at a time as he reached the centre of the Wizagomot. His heart was beating in his ears as he stood in front of the Ministry officials. He knew he was taking a risk.
“Mr. Malfoy,” Kingsley hissed, a look of shock quickly flashed over his features before he became detached again. Draco made sure his walls were up, depriving of emotion before he spoke.
“I am here, able and willing to sign the paperwork for Hermione Granger to enter under my care and custody.” Draco's eyes were solely focused on Kingsley while the gasps of shock rippled over the crowd behind him.
“I object!” Potter stepped forward, standing ram-rod straight to look at the Wizengamot. “Hermione Granger has committed crimes beyond repair. I do not believe she should be allowed back into society. The cursed blade caused significant damage to her mind, according to the notes provided by the institution.” He argued.
“With all due respect, Minister. Hermione Granger was labelled as the Brightest Witch of Our Age, and for good reason. She was always an inspiration to Muggleborns throughout our school years. For Merlin's sake, Voldemort himself was after her for her mind, for whom she stood against as the lion she was. ” Draco took a deep breath. “Unfortunately, due to my aunt's obsessive need to follow in Voldemort's footsteps, she is now cursed. It is my family's fault and I would like to have the chance to make it right.” Draco expelled a heavy breath as the final words left him.
Three members of the Wizengamot were nodding along, two had their gaze deadlocked on Harry, and the remaining one was watching Draco.
“This might be a good thing,” John Dawlish, the Head of the Auror Department, spoke beside Kingsley. “Mr. Malfoy assisted all three of them during the war. She has no family left. There's no safer place for her to be than Malfoy Manor. She won't be able to run from there with the old magic held within the wards.”
Shackebolt looked Potter over before asking the Wizengamot to vote. All but two of the members voted in affirmation for Draco’s request.
“Well, Mr. Malfoy,” the Minister for Magic’s face was unreadable as he spoke. Draco assumed he was Occluding as well though the whole ordeal. After all, he was the leader of the Order and knew Hermione well.
“Hermione Jean Granger will be released into the custody of Draco Lucius Malfoy. She will be heavily monitored and will reside at Malfoy Manor for the next year, until which time the ministry will decide if she is allowed to be set free on her own.” Shackebolt rapped his gavel again as the crowd made noise of discontent behind him. Reporters swarmed him as he swifty disappeared into the back, presumably to his office.
Draco couldn’t smile, allowing the news to wash over him. He turned and took a look at his friends still on the benches. Pansy and Theo nodded in confirmation. Hermione Granger was going to be released. Draco wondered if it was real. Wondered if his guilt would finally leave him. He was finally able to save her, something he couldn't do before.