Chapter Text
Hermione Granger slumped on the worn leather couch in the Auror's office she used to know so well.
She sat blankly staring at the wall and noticed a crack in the pattern in the corner of the ceiling. It spiderwebbed through the dark panels, hardly discernible, but it would make sense to her that she would find the one broken thing inside the office.
Like attracts like. The fear inside her that she had been ignoring had officially cracked open.
Just a sliver, but it was continuing to grow. She’d tried to convince herself she was fine. That this was just her being paranoid. She was a very capable witch. She had been to fucking war for crying out loud. The self-assurance she’d repeated the past few months had finally stopped working. Perhaps it never really worked and just allowed her ignore reality a little while longer.
She had a stalker.
Admitting it made her skin crawl and her stomach cramp painfully. Tonight things had progressed in a way that was going to be the beginning of a very difficult path. The click of the door drew her attention away from the cracked wall.
“Hermione,” Harry’s voice was gentle. Immediately, her eyes stung and her throat tightened painfully. She tried to school her features and swallow her emotions, she needed to be strong and brave like everyone told her she was, but her face was doing a weird tremoring thing and her eyes were already blurring with tears
Harry sat next to her and pulled her into a tight hug. She leaned on his shoulder and let out a shuddering sob.
“This is so embarrassing. This is so,” she choked. “I feel so violated…”
There were many horrific things she’d endured as a child. Things she was still unpacking and working through. She shouldn't be this upset about some unseemly photos. She was a grown adult, she’d had sex. She shouldn’t be ashamed, but she was, for a multitude of reasons. The shame felt so heavy, so sticky, it coated every part of her insides. There was nothing she could do to get it out of her, there were no potions to take, no spells to whisper, there was nothing but the tar-like residue weighing her down her every breath.
Harry gently rubbed her back, staying silent as she cried. Several minutes later she pulled back, and a new wave of embarrassment overcame her, sending her cheeks in flames. She hadn’t seen Harry in over three months and this is what happens the first time they speak. Gods she was a needy, mess.
“Thank you for coming,” Hermione said.
“Of course, and you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Nothing at all.” He said, emphatically. She avoided eye contact regardless. Harry waited for a breath and continued. “Can you give me a summary of what happened this morning? You don’t have to give the specific details, just the things you feel are important to know.”
Hermione let her tears fall as she recounted the events that led her to his office as seven in the morning.
She had worked through the night with Pansy, the Slytherin-turned-P.R.agent-turned-best friend. They were both night owls keeping each other fueled on coffee and snacks as they planned her upcoming book tour and Hermione worked on her next book. Only an hour ago, the early morning owl post came with. The envelope looked innocent, she figured it was another charity event requesting her attendance, but as soon as she lifted the sealed paper it exploded.
Hermione didn’t have her wand on her and for a very real moment she thought she might die.
The envelope magically spit out hundreds of miniature polaroid photos, bursting all over the living room. Pansy and Hermione had been sitting in between piles of reference materials, stacks of books, printed copies of Hermione’s latest tabloids Pansy had been scowling at, plus lots of trash from their eating habits through the night. The photos were everywhere, in all crevices. The shock from realizing what the photos depicted was quickly over shadowed by the note that came with it. The note that said. "I hate you. You really are a whore like everyone says. Should I share these with the public so they who you truly are?”
“I'll need to make an official report,” Harry replied, quietly.
“Okay, can I speak with a female, please?” The exhaustion radiated through Hermione's bones, tightening especially in her chest. “It’s not that I don't trust you, Harry. You’re welcome to read the report…” she swallowed hard. “And of course look at all the…evidence if necessary, but-.”
“Absolutely,” Harry nodded. “Whatever is best for you.”
He shifted in his seat, his gaze dropping to his hands, wringing them together. He cleared his throat, “Hermione.”
“What is it?” She almost didn’t want to know the way his discomfort was so obvious.
“I want to be honest with you about this," Harry started, still wringing his fingers into knots. "You can put in a stalking complaint, but I want to warn you about the reality of the department right now." He lowered his voice, "There are some off-shoots of Voldemort supporters creating their own repackaged version of his twisted theories about muggle borns. They're growing in popularity and the ministry is divided intensely about how to handle it. Some are saying to ignore it wholly, so there isn’t more attention to it. But those people are also being rumored to have ties to these groups. The other side is saying we need to be more aggressive by doing whatever means necessary to fight them off, even whispers of a draft for a military. It’s causing a lot of strain on every department. Funding is being held hostage because of both sides inability to come to a fucking agreement. We are currently on a hiring freeze but our office is so overworked, Hermione. I want you to get the support you deserve, but you’ve ran the same spells I would have ran on the package and we know there is no way to track the sender. Once an auror sees that conclusion, they will put the file away to sit in a drawer and gather dust until you have another incident.” Harry's eyes looked so sad, with lines worry. She was just starting to realize how tired he looked too.
“So you don’t think it’s worth reporting?” Hermione’s shoulders sagged.
“No, I do think you should start a file. You should track this legally to start building a case, but what I’m saying is no one is going to do anything about it other than take a report. Unfortunately, I don’t have the budget or resources to start an investigation team for one person. I can't even make a case to my superiors, because there just isn’t any money.”
“Not even for Hermione Granger?” She hated sounding entitled, but she rarely used her name to get anything special and this was surely an appropriate opportunity to use that privilege.
“That’s another point I was going to bring up,” he tugged at his collar. “On one hand, I do want you to be as accurate as possible in your report, but I also worry that the wrong person will see the report. I will do my best to keep it confidential and will personally recheck the privacy charms on the file. I’ll go after every single person who violates them, but the way things in the ministry are going is a good representation of how things have been here too." He lowered his voice even further. Department heads are picking ministry sides. Some are advocating for death eater’s rights and lesser punishments for those how are hurting muggle-borns. A few aurors in my department have started to look the other way when it comes to reporting anything at all. I would hate for someone like that to get this report and leak it, or worse blackmail you on top it.”
“So what do you suggest I do?” Hermione had begun to cry at the hopeless picture Harry painted for her. It was all true. Muggle born crime had increased and she'd heard the rumors of the distasteful things aurors were doing. It didn’t surprise here to hear about the inner workings of the ministry, it had been a mess since the end of the war.
“Report the stalking incident, don’t put details of the pictures,” Harry swallowed. “And I'd like to help you hire a private investigator. I have worked with a team offering some consulting services here and there and they’re really, really good. I can set up a meeting for you.” Harry looked at her nervously.
“I don’t know.” Hermione chewed on her lip. It already felt dramatic to file a report, only for it to be pointless, but to hire an investigator... hire an entire team... “Perhaps a report is enough for now.” Her head ached from the lack of sleep and she just wanted to go home. She had a desperate desire for a hot bath and falling into soft sheets.
“I know that this isn’t the first time you’ve gotten threatening mail, Hermione. This is an escalation. I refuse to let you make yourself vulnerable. Please let me help you. I can coordinate all the details and I'm happy to work with them, from an auror side to protect you here. I'll volunteer pro bono. At least let them set up an initial security sweep and reinforce some protection charms. They do some really advanced work that you’d admire.”
Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples. “Fine.” He made a good point. She had too many threats recently. She couldn't allow herself to become desensitized to violence like this, just because she’d endured worse before.
“Great. I’ll set up the meeting.” Harry said. “And I hate the circumstances, but I am really glad to see you, Hermione. I’m sorry…I'm so sorry…” He trailed off running a hand through his disheveled hair.
“Me too, Harry.” Hermione grabbed his hand and gave him a look of understanding. The way things had ended with her and Ron left a huge weird elephant in the room with them. Both of them had their own issues with Ron, but at different points of time. When Hermione had begun dating Ron, it severely complicated her relationship with Harry. Hermione wondered now if Ron did it on purpose, pushing them apart, during their year long relationship. Right before Hermione broke up with Ron, his and Harry's relationship seemed to be getting better, but she didn’t know where she stood with Harry.
“Have you talked to him recently?” Hermione asked, knowing they needed to get this over with.
“Last month,” Harry shrugged. “We had drinks. He’s different now though. With all his money. It’s just…weird. What about you? How have you been feeling since the breakup. The fucking prophet and all those trashy tabloids were cruel to you. I'm sorry about that."
Hermione sighed. “I saw him a few weeks ago. I told him, during our breakup I was committed to being friends and he agreed. So we've met for coffee a few times. It’s been fine. He got weird when I asked about you though.” Hermione ran a hand over her face. “Harry, I really wanted to reach out more, but I was in such a weird place in my life while dating him. I felt like I had to choose him, I had to. I was working so much, last year getting my book finished and I was so stressed and I know I was so forgetful. I felt like I was forgetting everyone else in my life. It felt like I only had room to remember his long list of needs, with only scraps of me leftover. I loved him so much I wanted to give him everything, but I was burning out by the end. He was draining me and I couldn't even see it. Then one day I realized I'm never going to stop trying to change the world. I want to believe in my dreams and my future and-" Hermione wiped a few tears away.
"We both know how he can get," Harry said, squeezing her hand. "You can't blame yourself for his poor behavior. I'm glad you finally saw your own needs as important."
"That's been the hardest part of the breakup, I think so many of my feelings have been tied to the experiences we've all had together, we lived through a war and faced real terror. You two were my family in every sense of the word, and my feelings were so strong for him, but they were always a bit confusing for me. I don't know, I'm rambling now. I just want you to know that regardless of Ron, I still consider you one of my dearest friends.”
“You don’t have any need to explain, Hermione. I feel similar, obviously it's different, but" his brow furrowed. "I'm glad we are talking about this because he meant so much to me too. He was my first friend, my brother, more than that we were warriors together, leaders, but sometimes enemies. I know I was a cliche, wonder-boy but damn it..." Harry sighed, a sad smirk on his face. "Here we are like old times, venting about Ron."
"Just like old times." Hermione gave a small huff of laughter. "Fighting battles with you if comforting."
"I could have reached out too. I think…” he blew out a breathe. “I think there were things after the war we all had to work through. There was a lot of pressure to be close to each other during that time too, but that's just unfair. We don't have to pretend to keep up being the golden trio. We can just be ourselves now."
“Thank you so much for understanding me, Harry.”
~~~~~
“So,” Pansy laid next to her in her bed. Hermione had never been more grateful for her care.
After sleeping most of the day, she woke up to the smell of freshly baked pumpkin chocolate chip cookies and pumpkin soup. Pansy had cleaned up the mess from the photos before she got home. Pansy was the one who had insisted Hermione meet Harry immediately and report the incident. If it hadn’t been for Pansy's insistence she would have probably found a hundred reasons to procrastinate reporting it. She loved Pansy with her entire heart and wondered almost daily how she’d lived her life without being friends with the raven-haired, quick witted, ridiculously-good-at-everything best friend, but she did not want to confess the details that Pansy wanted.
Hermione knew Pansy knew.
Pansy knew that Hermione knew Pansy knew.
And Hermione knew that Pansy knew that Hermione knew Pansy knew.
But that oily shame coated her mouth preventing her from saying it out loud.
It made her feel sick. It made her feel dirty. Revisiting the memory still hurt.
Pansy’s eye’s softened. “Hermione.” Her voice, sharp as a sword. It was that specific way she said her name, the way she spoke with loving authority, that made Hermione want to believe her next words, “You have done nothing wrong.”
Hermione started to cry. It felt like the complete opposite, like she deserved this kind of humiliation after sleeping with a man that hated her. But even with it not feeling true, it felt good to hear. Especially from Pansy, because she knew Hermione the best.
“I know, but-”
“No. Buts.” Pansy said. Hermione remained quiet and Pansy sighed. “You slept with Draco Malfoy. Big fucking deal. He’s slept with plenty of witches.”
Pansy’s smirk told Hermione everything she needed to know about what was going on in her mind. “And those pictures are…” Pansy’s eyes widened, as she fanned herself. Hermione sniffed loudly and grabbed a pillow.
“You two are so. Fucking. Hot.” Bingo.
Hermione wacked Pansy in the head with the pillow. Pansy huffed a laugh as she snatched the pillow away and tucked in under her chest, laying on her stomach. “How many times did you guys fuck?” Pansy’s teeth sunk into her lip, arching a brow. “Those pictures show a lot of positions.”
Hermione started laughing and Pansy's ridiculous expression. “A lot.” Hermione covered her face with her hands, as the red flush crept up her cheeks.
“I can’t believe you’ve kept it a secret this a secret for what, four months? Post breakup sex is always hot, I wish you would have told me sooner. Wait until Theo finds out. He’s going to be so pissed you-” Pansy shot up, pointing at her. “You cannot be serious.”
Fuck.
“I’m sorry,” Hermione pleaded. “I’m sorry.”
“How did he find out before me?” she shrieked. “I was in the bloody room when those photos exploded!”
“Theo was here the morning I came home.” Hermione sat up, sighing.
Pansy’s eyes lit with a new sense of curiosity, "You went to his place?"
“Sorta.” Hermione shook her head. “The point is, I walked in like I had just been, well, thoroughly fucked, and then…” Hermione trailed off. That morning was sad. She'd felt so overwhelmed and sad and embarrassed. “I couldn’t find my clothes on the way out, so I grabbed his shirt and resized it. I figured I’d send it back to him or something, but I just had to get out of there. What I didn’t realize is that the collar was monogrammed. And for some strange fucking reason it was charmed so that if someone else wore his shirt the monogram glowed. I walked into my flat with glowing D. M. initials around my neck. And apparently Theo just had Tea with Narcissa. Draco was there wearing a similar monogrammed shirt. I was also incredibly hungover. I had no capacity to deny it.”
“Fine,” Pansy rolled her eyes. “I’ll let this one slide, but the next fucking thing that happens like this, I call dibs.”
Hermione wrinkled her nose. “I have sworn off one night stands. I’m sorry to disappoint you that I wont have any more stories like this.”
“Have you spoken to him since?”
“No.” Hermione cleared her throat.
“Are you going to tell him about the pictures?”
“I think I have to, don't I?”
“Hard to say, You can’t see his face, but if anyone sees the sleeve of tattoos, they’ll be able to identify him immediately. That’s how I knew.” Then Pansy’s smile became devious. “And?”
“What?” Hermione rolled her eyes
“How was it? Was it good?” Pansy smirked.
“You know how it is,” Hermione shrugged. “You’ve shagged him.”
Pansy scoffed. “When he was sixteen doesn’t count! Do you think he knew what he was doing then?” She searched Hermione’s eyes and then her face dropped. “Oh, so it was that good?”
“I didn’t say anything!” Hermione fell back into her pillows.
“Oh my gods! Tell me!”
Hermione turned to face Pansy, “It was good okay. Really fucking, blow-your-mind good. But it was a mistake. Clearly, I’m being punished for sleeping with him and getting any pleasure from it. I’m fucked in the head, that man bullied me for years and has avoided me for even longer. It's not like he reached out afterwards either."
“You forgave me.” Pansy said, quietly. “It’s not like I was much different.”
“It is different, Pans.” Hermione laid on her back staring at the ceiling again. “It’s completely different with him.”
Pansy laid next to Hermione, laying her head on her shoulder. “Okay, we will table discussion of Malfoy for later. What are you really afraid of? What’s going on?”
Hermione began to cry instantly. She was crying so much lately and she hated it. “This is going to leak everywhere. It’s going to be used to smear me right before my new book comes out about muggleborns. They'll certainly find out it's Draco. Instead of being seen as an author, I'll be labeled as some self-hating whore. I'll be labled as a gold-digging hypocrite for sleeping with a man that publicy advocated for blood supremacy. it will fuel all of those rumors Ron spread that I was cheating on him because I worked at a hotel a few times.” She wiped away her tears. “I’m going to be in another drawn out headline crycle. I just stopped seeing them about my breakup with Ron. I don’t think I can handle another round of this.”
“Those are real fears. I understand why you'd feel all of those things. It's okay that you don't want to discuss your sex life with the world, especially as complicated as your connection to Draco is." Pansy let out a frustrated breath. "Well, what the hell did Potter say? Is he doing his job and hunting the fucker down or what?”
Hermione relayed the conversation between her and Harry. Pansy was quiet for a long time, contemplation in her eyes.
“What is it?” Hermione sniffled.
“Oh,” Pansy’s face became blank. “Nothing, I’m just surprised Potter is smart enough to think of something that I agree with. It’s a really good idea.”
“Yes, that is strange. I expected you to at least have a few objections.” Hermione eyed her best friend suspicously.
“Well even a broken clock is right twice a day. Today was the day for Potter. I don't expect it to be a habit of mine,” Pansy said.
“You two would get along well if you would just be willing to hang out with him.”
“The way he treated you while you were dating Weasley was rude. And I’m not over that.” Pansy raised her chin.
“Well I am.” Hermione sighed. “I’m over all the drama that was that period of my life, most of it is a blur. I don’t really want to talk about Ron though.”
“Hermione,” Harry’s voice echoed through her flat.
“Hi,” Hermione trudged over to the fireplace with a blanket wrapped around her greeting Harry’s floating head.
“Tomorrow at eight am work for you?” Hermione had to search through the thick fog that had settled in her brain to understand what he was talking about. “Oh, right. Sure.”
“Yep, works for her,” Harry called behind him. “See you in the morning.”
“Glad that it works for me too!” Pansy called from her bedroom.
~~~~~
Hermione began the following morning like she did most days, under-slept, over-caffeinated, and buzzing with anxiety. Today seemed to be extra special, because her level of anxiety had doubled since she woke. She tapped her foot in the conference room impatiently. The investigators were late. This had to be a bad sign. She sat on the other side of a long table staring at the door.
“Relax,” Pansy whispered from the right of her her. “It’s going to be fine.”
“Great. Thanks. I’m relaxed now,” Hermione said.
“I love you, too.” Pansy patted her shoulder. “Well, Potter, when the hell were they supposed to be here?” Harry sat directly across from Hermione, Pansy spoke with the same respect she gave her own family, which was none at all. Pansy made her disdain for Harry completely obvious any time they were togther.
“Any minute," Harry gulped. Pansy had that effect on most men.
The door opened and all three of their heads swung to Theodore Nott. He moved to Hermione, throwing his arms around her. Hermione returned the hug gratefully. “You didn’t have to come.”
“Of course I’d be here. There is no other place I should be.” Theo kissed Pansy on the cheek and then gave Harry a long look over.
“Pottttter.” He drew out Harry's name like purr. He loved making Harry uncomfortable just as much as Pansy did, except, Theo did it without menacing looks and more with the flirty ways he said Harry’s name.
“Nott,” Harry gave him a nod, a red blush creeping across Harry’s face. Harry looked down at his notepad trying to avoid Theo’s gaze. Pansy looked over her request list for the investigators regarding Hermione’s press and book tour. Hermione glanced at the clock again watching the second hand tick by. A flashing moment where she thought of Draco, a bad habit of hers over the years she'd learned how to dismiss quickly. A shiver ran down her spine.
The door opened and Hermione met cold, grey eyes. As if she summoned him, Draco Malfoy walked into the conference room, full of that same arrogant, powerful air about him. But it was as if he glanced over her, or through her, not quite meeting her eyes.
All of those moments she’d stuffed into that secret chamber of her mind, all of the twisted feelings she'd kept bottled up, all of the thoughts she'd been able to dismiss came flooding back. And that night with him was the first to fill her mind in vivid, ripe detail.