though someone had plucked out her brain and placed Hermione bit her lip as she listened

stened to Malfoy’s
it inside a tank of ice water. Her body was there, but drawling recitation. She had expected, if she ever
her mind was—not. It was like experiencing herself in asked the question, that he would be horrible and
third person. conceited about it. Somehow it still shocked her to
hear it.
Her heart rate dropped to a steady beat.
“I suppose your master was quite pleased with you,”
She should be panicking. It was as though her
she said without looking at him.
consciousness had been severed from her endocrine
system. There was no surge of adrenalin or “He was, especially after I presented him with the old
norepinephrine. No fear. fool’s wand. He had dinner with me and my mother
that night, here in this very manor. I was declared a
It was merely an observation: she should be
protege.”
panicking. She was not.
He tone seemed vaguely hollow. Hermione glanced
She looked up at Malfoy.
over her shoulder at him. He wasn’t looking at her. His
eyes were locked on the window, and he looked
She was aware that she hated him. This was a piece
almost wistful and pensive. As though his mind had
of information that seemed of utmost importance, and
gone somewhere else.
yet she couldn’t feel it. Hatred was a construct rather
than an emotion.
He abruptly roused himself and smiled thinly down at
her.
He was staring at her intently.
“Any further details you need me to provide?” He
“How do you feel, Mudblood?” he asked after a
arched an eyebrow as he asked the question. His
moment. His sharp eyes were taking in every detail,
expression was mechanical.
studying her face, and eyes, and posture as she stood
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“No,” she said dropping her eyes from his face. “that Her chin raised itself until she was staring into his
was all I wanted to know.” eyes. He was still smiling.
“Well.” He straightened his robes and turned to leave, “Surely you are aware that I’m not going to kill you,”
“The outside world beckons me. Try not to have a he said. His eyes were dancing with cruel amusement.
seizure in my absence, Mudblood.” “After all, if I were, I imagine you’d feel obliged to
come running.”
Hermione glowered. Yes, she knew, but poison was
only one of the innumerable things he could dose her
with. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and it
made her ears roar.
“Open your mouth,” he commanded, unstoppering the
vial and then proceeding to upend it into her opened
mouth. “Swallow all of it.”
Hermione’s mouth closed, and she swallowed. The
potion tasted bitter, with a faint tingling effect on her
tongue and throat as it slid down to her stomach. She
felt it pause there for a moment before it dispersed
itself into her system.
It felt like an egg was cracked across the back of her
mind. Something cold oozed over her consciousness
until her mind felt entirely enveloped inside it. As
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Hermione crossed her arms stubbornly. While it might
be strategically advisable to seem docile and 01 retpahC
obedient, as a former Potions Mistress, Hermione was
far too paranoid to agree to such a thing.
“What is it?” she asked.
Malfoy’s expression grew gloating.
H arry Potter was sitting on a rooftop, smoking
“I’ll tell if you swallow every drop like a good girl,” he
said, flashing a malicious smirk. cigarettes, staring off into the distance. Hermione
clambered out of a window to join him.
Hermione did not budge. Malfoy smiled faintly as he
stared at her. “What happened to us, Hermione?” he asked when
she got close.
“Come here, Mudblood,” he commanded after a
moment. “A war,” she said quietly, reaching out and turning his
face toward her. There was a gash on his head. His
Hermione glared at him as her unwilling feet carried
pale skin was faintly red from the blood he’d washed
her across the room to him. They didn’t stop until she
off. His expression was sad, tired, and angry.
was mere inches from him, so close her robes
brushed against his. “Who changed? Was it you or me?” he asked as she
laced her fingers through his hair and pushed it aside
She stared balefully down at his shoes.
so she could close the wound.
“Look at me, Mudblood.”
“Me,” she said, avoiding his gaze.
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“Why? Do you think I won’t be able to do it?” he said. As if on cue the door opened and Malfoy walked in.
“Are you trying to brace yourself that I’ll fail?” She turned her head to look at him, still too tired to
try dragging herself off the floor.
She cast a diagnostic charm on him. He had two
fractured ribs and bruising on his abdomen. She He stared down at her, something flickering in his
pushed him back so he’d lie down before she started eyes after a moment.
healing him.
“A Muggle thing, I’ll assume,” he said.
“I think you can do it. But—the prophecy. It’s a coin
Hermione rolled her eyes and forced herself to stand
toss. After Dumbledore died—,” she faltered slightly.
up. She felt as though her whole body were made of
“Death is just one curse away from us all,” she said jelly.
after a moment. “I can’t just sit back and watch,
He glanced around the room. His eyes landed on the
waiting for fifty-fifty odds to land and assume I know
vial of potion Hermione had refused to take earlier. He
the outcome. Not when there are so many people
summoned it across the room wandlessly and caught
depending on us. What you have, the way you love
it deftly in his right hand.
people, it’s pure, it’s powerful. But—how many times
have you killed Tom now? As a baby, because of your
“I realise that, being a Gryffindor, there are certain
mother. In first and second year. But he’s still here.
obvious things that you will always somehow fail to
He’s still fighting you. I don’t want to assume
comprehend. I suppose I shouldn’t really be surprised
anything is enough.”
that you somehow missed the implicit instruction that
you should swallow this,” he said, his mouth quirking
“You don’t think Good can just win,” Harry said. The
in faint bemusement.
reproach in his voice was heavy.
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Two Death Eaters had come to Hogwarts the day the “Everyone who wins say they were good, but they’re
new ones had been put on. Yaxley and Rowle. They the ones who write the history. I haven’t seen
had been called up when the guards started stunning anything indicating that it was actually moral
all the women, and they’d been gone when she’d been superiority that made a difference,” she said as she
rennervated. murmured the spells to repair the fractures.
Only Death Eaters bearing a Dark Mark could remove “You’re talking about Muggle history though. Magic is
the manacles. different. The magical world is different,” Harry said,
reaching toward her wand hand just as she moved it
She had two options. She had to find a way to make
to heal the next rib. He closed his fingers into a fist
Malfoy either kill her or help her to escape. There
and let it drop.
were no options that excluded him. It didn’t matter if
the Manor had an entire set of camping gear, a basket Hermione shook her head minutely and Harry’s
of portkeys, and a weapon she could somehow touch, expression grew bitter. He looked up at the sky.
it would all be useless to her if she couldn’t get the Hermione cast a barrier charm over her hand and
manacles off. then began spreading a bruise paste over Harry’s
stomach and ribs in small circular motions.
She snarled quietly to herself in frustration and rolled
over and started doing push-ups until she couldn’t lift “You used to be different,” Harry said, “You used to
herself off the ground any more. be more righteous about things than me. What
happened to S.P.E.W.? That girl would never have
She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling.
said Dark magic was worth the cost. What
happened?”
Draco Malfoy, where is the chink in your perfect
armour?
“That girl died in a hospital ward trying to save Colin
Creevey.”
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“I was there when Colin died too, Hermione. And I Umbridge hadn’t even bothered with laying a
didn’t change.” compulsion against escaping. That was how certain
she and Healer Stroud were that the girls couldn’t get
“I was always willing to do whatever it took, Harry. All
the manacles off. That detail was the only loophole
those adventures of ours in school. Once I was in, I
Hermione currently had to exploit. She could do
was in. Maybe you just never noticed how far I was
things with the intention of escaping.
willing to go for you.”
She had reviewed everything she knew about the
manacles carefully. Hannah had made no mention of
anyone ever getting them off despite whatever
laxness or camaraderie had been developed with the
gossiping guards. The manacles had a trace in them
but rather than just get someone to take them off,
Angelina had attempted to steal the trace.
Quite a number of people had managed to escape
Hogwarts. All the people Malfoy had killed. No one
had ever successfully escaped entirely because none
of them could get the manacles off.
What had Hannah said? Unless Hermione could cut
her hands off, she’d never escape.
How did the manacles come off?
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Hermione tried to focus on something else as she
tried to stomp her feet or slam a door. Performing
mental arithmancy. Mentally reciting the recipe for a
Draught of Peace. The manacles still activated.
She had run out of new ideas about how to try
circumventing them.
She turned away from the snowy landscape and
began exercising in her room. It had felt awkward
with the attention of the portrait but after nearly a
month, she no longer cared.
She was so tired of thinking and despairing afresh.
Not that she could stop herself from thinking even as
she slotted her feet under the wardrobe and began
doing sit-ups until her abdominal muscles felt like
they had been injected with acid. At least it was a way
of directing her rage.
She wouldn’t be able to kill Malfoy. The manacles
made it impossible.
She couldn’t escape on her own either.
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When Hermione woke, she remembered the dream. She tried circumventing the manacles in various ways.
She replayed it again and again. It was a memory. The compulsion went beyond merely not screaming or
Which frightened her somewhat, but there didn’t speaking unless spoken to. She couldn’t be loud
seem to be anything in it that appeared particularly because she was commanded to be quiet. She
consequential. She tried to place the year it had couldn’t bang a door or stomp. Any method that
happened. occurred to make noise; when she tried to do it, she
was stopped.
Harry was smoking. A habit he started three years
into the war. Hermione didn’t recognise the rooftop, That was when it began to dawn on her that she was
but that didn’t mean anything. There had been dozens also the one controlling the compulsions. She was
of safe houses that Hermione rarely visited. commanded to be quiet. It was her awareness of
being unquiet that activated the manacles. Anything
Having a new memory of Harry, even one that wasn’t
that she considered loud, resisting, disobedient, she
particularly happy, felt like an unexpected gift. She
couldn’t do.
missed him so bitterly it was hard to breathe
sometimes. That was why Healer Stroud had been so concerned
with ensuring the mental stability of all the girls. If
She lay in bed and turned it over and over in her
they lost their minds, the compulsions couldn’t control
mind. Taking note of every detail. The light in his
them. That was why the screaming girl had been able
eyes. The nervous, intense way he’d take a drag from
to attack someone.
his cigarettes and exhale sharply. The exhaustion in
his face. The way his hair stood on end. The manacles were as limitless in their restrictions as
Hermione’s creativity.
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As she lay there, watching the room swim before her She wished she’d hugged him. Or taken his hand. Or
eyes, she began to realise the reason the manacles met his eyes and told him how important he was to
were so powerful. They were using her magic. her.
Wizarding folks had no more ability to stem the magic
Told him how much she needed him. That he was her
inside them than they could turn off their adrenal
best friend. That she would follow him to the ends of
glands. Whatever effort she poured into overpowering
the earth. That she would never, ever recover if she
the manacles, the manacles had in equal measure to
lost him.
repress her.
She wished she could go back in time and find a way
She couldn’t even scream or rage with frustration
to fix what had gone wrong. Whatever it was. That
when she realised it. She had so much fury inside
she could go back and tell Harry not to go to
herself she felt as though she might burst into flames.
Hogwarts the day of the final battle.
She wanted to break something. She wanted to use
Go back and warn the Order of what would happen if
magic and make something explode. She wanted to
they lost.
do something that would hurt.
Their argument in the memory was a familiar one.
She wanted to punch a mirror the way people did in
Hermione had wanted the Order to use, well, not
movies. To see the glass shatter and fracture until it
necessarily the Dark Arts, but magic that was
looked the way she felt. She wanted her knuckles to
ambiguously grey. As the war kept dragging on, she’d
split and bleed and feel the pain in her metacarpal
gotten pushier about it and it had strained her
bones, through her palms and into her wrists… She
relationships with more people than just Harry.
was desperate to feel something other than the
emotional agony she felt she was drowning in.
But she couldn’t.
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She tried not to dwell on the question of whether they the war. The manacles were unlike anything she’d
could have won the war if the Resistance had been encountered.
willing to use Dark Magic.
She started her experiments by trying to disobey the
The war was over and lost. compulsion of quietness by attempting to scream. The
concept was less restrictive than obedience. She was
She pressed her hands against her eyes and tried to
allowed to make noise and speak when spoken to. It
force the question away. Whatever the answer was, it
seemed like the easiest one to try to overcome. She’d
would be as painful to reach as it would be futile.
thought that if she fought hard enough she could
force her way through by sheer willpower, in the same
Oh Harry…
manner that strong-minded individuals could
Had she told him she loved him the day he died? Had eventually throw off the Imperio.
she even spoken to him?
She was fairly sure she qualified as at least a
She couldn’t remember. somewhat strong-minded individual.
Hermione curled up in her bed and wrapped her arms When she tried to open her mouth to scream, she
around herself in a mimicry of a hug. When she’d just—stopped. It didn’t matter how hard she fought to
been in the cell, she’d wondered if it was possible to force sound out. She struggled until the manacles
die from the devastating loneliness she felt. began growing hot.
She’d felt like her heart had broken. She couldn’t beat them.
It still felt like that. Eventually she had collapsed onto the floor, drained to
the point that she struggled to remain conscious.
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Hermione returned slowly to her room and stared After a few minutes, she forced herself to get up.
across the pristine landscape below her. She felt Lying in bed moping wasn’t going to accomplish
drained from her “excursion” downstairs. As though anything.
she’d run a marathon.
She paused at the window. It had snowed. The whole
Everything took so much effort. world outside was blanketed. The visual relief from all
the dreary grey was almost heartening.
She rested her cheek against the glass and felt freshly
awash in despair. Along with the breakfast that morning, there arrived a
vial of—something. Hermione did not recognise the
Even if she managed to conquer her agoraphobia, that
potion. She stared at it and sniffed it but wasn’t sure
was barely even a start. No matter what lies she
what it was. She set it aside. She hadn’t been
whispered to herself. The truth was that she remained
commanded to take it, and until she was commanded,
entirely at a loss about how to accomplish anything
she had no intention of imbibing any unfamiliar
more.
potions.
She glanced down at the manacles around her wrists.
She made her way to the stairs and stood, staring
down them. It was time. She was going to descend
She’d been considering and experimenting with their
the stairs by herself. The fact that she hadn’t already
abilities for the last several days. Ever since Malfoy
done so was pathetic. It was just a staircase. Just a
had been able to override her agoraphobia. She had
staircase leading to a hall she’d already walked
started to analyse more carefully how the
through dozens of times with Malfoy.
compulsions worked.
Her shoulders shook with an almost imperceptible
She had been baffled over how they could be so
tremor, and she squared them.
powerful. She’d studied various dark artifacts during
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She felt like a frightened child. She went into a tea room, coatroom, and a drawing
room. Exploring them all thoroughly. The portrait
She hated it.
stalked Hermione the entire time.
She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
Then she pressed her hand against the wall and
slowly took a step. Even the cords for the drapes were spelled to be
irremovable. She opened sideboards, and cupboards,
She was going to escape, she told herself.
and linen closets and there wasn’t a single thing
inside of them that was useful. Not as a weapon she
Before she got pregnant, she was going to escape
could use. Not for escape.
from Malfoy Manor. Someday she was going to come
back and murder Malfoy.
She shoved a drawer shut with a frustrated snap.
She was going to be free. Free. Somewhere with
If she was going to find anything with potential, she
sunshine and magic and people who wouldn’t hurt
was going to have to explore the occupied wings of
her.
the manor. It was easy for Malfoy to ensure that an
empty wing had nothing Hermione could utiliz. It
She focused on the thought until there were no more
would be harder to maintain such care in other parts
steps left to descend.
of the house.
She glanced around. Her hand was still pressed
Astoria had struck Hermione as a bit flighty. Given
against the wall. She could feel the faint texture of
how devoted she was to ignoring Hermione’s
the wallpaper. Touching the walls seemed to help her
existence, she probably would not trouble herself with
keep her heart-rate somewhat reasonable.
employing the same overabundance of caution that
Malfoy did.
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