The Internal Devices

Chapter 8

Hermione woke with a groan, blinking in the fluorescent light. She felt horrible. She had had the most terrible dream, one of blood and despair and–

She jerked as her gaze hit her arm. It was wrapped tightly in gauze and pinned to the side of a crisp white cot. She finally realized she was most definitely not in Gryffindor housing. She must be in the hospital wing. How weird. She turned her head over with effort and looked into the frowning face of Ginny Weasley. She looked furious. In fact...Hermione wasn't sure she'd ever seen her friend look quite so livid. She cleared her throat uncomfortably in the unblinking glare of the younger girl.

"Erm...Hello, Gin." She tried to sound nonchalant, but her efforts were largely wasted as the redhead grew more flushed by the second. She could feel an outburst coming soon. In 3...2...1...

"HELLO? THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY? YOU BLOODY ALMOST DIED YOU NINNY-HEADED DOLLOP! I WAS WORRIED SICK–" Here Ginny seemed to stop herself, pushing herself back into the seat. She took a shaky breath and raise a shaking finger to point into Hermione's wide eyes. She settled for a harsh whisper. "Do you have any idea what you've just put me through? Do you? What in the world were you thinking? What happened?" Hermione didn't have an answer.

The fight died out of Ginny's eyes and she slumped until her forehead hit the edge of the cot. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry. I feel as if I've failed you. I wasn't there, I wasn't even the one to find you. You were all alone, and clearly feeling so badly to resort to–to–to that, and I didn't even realize...I'm a terrible friend." Ginny dissolved into sobs, and Hermione tentatively ran her good hand through her friend's hair.

"Gin...Gin you have nothing to apologize for. I just got worked up about everything. It was too much for a moment. I'm sorry, I'll try to be better." Ginny's head shot up and she fixed Hermione with a determined gaze. "Next time, tell me, Hermione. You know I'll always be here for you, right?"

"I know, Ginny. I know. I'm sorry." At that, Ginny reached over and gave Hermione a fierce hug. They stayed that way for almost an hour, not speaking. Hermione loved that about Ginny. She understood Hermione's need for quiet processing in a way that her brother, Ron, never had. After a while, her friend unwrapped her arms from around Hermione and stood to her feet. She announced that Madam Pomfrey said Hermione was to be released back to classes the following day, and that she was looking forward to seeing her at breakfast. Ginny wiped a stray tear and strode out of the infirmary.

Hermione sighed in relief when her friend had gone and sank into her pillows. She thought she ought to feel more remorse for the events that brought her here, but she was finding it difficult to care. She just wanted a moment to breathe in peace. If she admitted it to herself, she really wasn't that horrified by what she had done in the owlery. It was nice to finally break. She had felt it coming for a long time now. The nightmares, the nightly haunting of the hallways to escape sleep. Her disgust with her classmates, and her inability to visit certain areas of the castle. She had read about trauma. It was actually a relief to examine herself like some case study. Her eyes fluttered closed. If anything, her little 'escapade' got her out of classes until tomorrow. Brilliant. She tried to fight the smirk working its way onto her face and failed.

"Smug, are we?" A cold voice echoed from the other side of the room. Hermione was so startled she wrenched herself into a sitting position, forgetting one arm was fastened tightly down. It yanked her backward so harshly that she whimpered. Malfoy's face remained impassive and he sauntered over to her cot until he was leering down at her. Even though she thought she had gotten to know the boy in front of her over the past month, his eyes were unrecognizable now. Only grey remained in those eyes, a sign of heavy occluding. His jaw was clenched and he radiated cool fury. He leaned further, placing a hand on either side of her head, his face resting only centimeters from hers. She gasped in a shaky breath, eyes darting to his lips for a moment before jumping back to his icy glare. She couldn't understand this Malfoy–this controlled rage that wafted off of him. She swallowed.

"Did your brave little Gryffindor heart finally fail you, Granger?" He practically growled. "Too afraid to finish the job? I see you're still breathing, regrettable, as it is."

Hermione couldn't look away. She didn't know this boy in front of her. Why was he so angry? There was no reason for him to be angry the way Ginny had been. Ginny loved Hermione, so it made sense she would be hurt. But this? This was feral. As that thought entered her head, she was slammed further into the pillows, icy fingers wrapped around her throat. She felt herself start to panic and her limbs thrashed beneath her. Malfoy simply trapped her firmly beneath himself with his other hand.

His breath tickled her ear, an odd sensation to be aware of when she should be more focused on breathing. With a shock, Hermione realized he wasn't trying to block her airway, just get her attention. In one moment, her fear turned into something else. She didn't want to put a name to it. The Slytherin boy kept his gaze locked on her eyes.

"Theodore is up there, dying, and I had to waste my time fixing your ridiculous pity party instead of being with him." Malfoy loosened his grip on her throat and she gulped in a ragged breath, eyes widening even more as she processed his words. Theo. Oh, gods...Theo. He must have been having one of his bad days, and she didn't know, and Malfoy said he had to–

She paused. It dawned on her that he had said he had 'fixed' her situation, which meant that he had been the one to find her. He had somehow tracked her down in the owlery and seen, well, something pretty gruesome. Before she blacked out, she definitely remembered seeing a lot of blood. She fought a wince. She hadn't meant for anyone to witness that, especially not him. He had seen enough.

She slowly turned her head to look at the hands planted on either side of her. They were stained red. She turned back to meet his eyes.

"Malfoy. Is that my blood, or his?" She shakily asked. For a moment she thought he wouldn't answer. He ran his tongue over his teeth and fisted his hands on the sheets. He was still holding himself above her, and the strain was showing in his quivering biceps. The air was charged with tension.

"It's both, isn't it?" She almost couldn't bear to keep looking at him, but equally couldn't bear to look away. A sliver of blue cracked through the grey of his eyes. His nostrils flared. This was the closest they had ever been, and Hermione's heart was racing. She couldn't tell if it was entirely out of fear anymore. Another sliver of blue cracked through.

Hermione's gaze drifted down to Malfoy's lips once more, and this time his eyes followed. She quickly jerked her gaze upward. At the movement, blue fully exploded in his eyes, wiping every trace of grey away. A brief look of utter desperation flitted over the boy's face, and before she could take another breath, his lips were crashing into hers.

The kiss was violent. It was hungry. He wasn't gentle, but neither was she. When he raked his stained fingers through her hair, he pulled at her curls to show her how painful it had been to find both her and his best mate so close to death on the same day. When she dug her nails into his back, she wanted him to feel the hurt she felt in the owlery, faced with the truth of her parents' deaths, the isolation of being truly alone in a world that killed them. He bit her lips until they bled, and she sucked at his neck until he was bruised purple.

With urgency, Malfoy ripped open her blouse and ravaged her torso with his lips until Hermione was gasping for air. Impatiently, she yanked his face back up to hers and pressed her lips to his. More. More. More. Their limbs were tangled, but he deftly navigated around her injured arm. She twisted his platinum locks until he let out a guttural moan, and nipped at her ear in response. She shivered. He was consuming her. How could she have contemplated dying only hours ago? This–this was living. She was on fire. He was burning her up.

A set of steps echoed from around the corner, jolting the two out of their passionate embrace. Malfoy leaped off of the cot and straightened his shirt. She watched in fascination as he closed his eyes. When they opened again, grey was firmly in place. Without a glance her way, Malfoy stalked out of the infirmary doors, leaving Hermione to hastily pull the sheets over her ruined shirt before Madam Pomfrey came to check on her. After a quick inspection of her arm, Madam exited once more, leaving Hermione alone. Surprisingly, she didn't feel quite so empty.