Fic: Face Down (Hermione/Blaise)
Jun. 21st, 2013 04:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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hp_rarefestTitle: Face Down
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
scarletladyy
Prompt: Hermione is married to a violent, abusive and manipulative wizard.
Pairing(s): Hermione/Blaise
Word Count/Art Medium: 7,312
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Domestic abuse, mentions of past violence
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: The story takes its title from the famous Red Jumpsuit Apparatus song. Thank you to my beta, S, and the mods for running another great fest.
Summary: Blaise is having his Slytherin friends round for tea, which means Hermione is stressed and anxious trying to make sure everything is perfect. Unbeknownst to all but one of them, however, her life is about to change forever.
A pebble in the water makes a ripple effect
Every action in this world will bear a consequence
If you wade around forever you will surely drown
I see what's going down
Perhaps the most terrifying thing of all is that I have absolutely no idea what mood Blaise is going be in when I get home. If he's had a good day at work, everything could be peaches and cream and it'll be like there are no problems whatsoever, but if anyone's done even one little thing to piss him off, I'll end up paying for it. I always do, regardless of whether it's anything to do with me.
The village clock strikes five as I leave the corner shop and walk quickly home. I don't work any more and Blaise doesn't like me to be out without permission, so I hope he'll be slightly delayed and I'll make it back in time to start tea. If there hadn't been such a large queue I wouldn't be late, but then again, if I hadn't been in desperate need of pasta, I wouldn't have even gone.
There are no signs of life when I arrive home, so I place my shopping bag on the counter and begin to empty it. I put everything away exactly where it's supposed to be, making sure there isn't a product out of place. If there is, Blaise will immediately notice and reprimand me for it. I grab the bag and go to place it in the bin with the receipt, to hide the evidence of my brief encounter out of the house, but as I turn, I feel two heavy hands upon my shoulders and my heart sinks.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice you'd gone?"
"Um, no." I spin around to face my husband and plaster an innocent smile upon my face. "I just needed some more pasta for tonight, that's all. There was a large queue."
"Pasta?" Blaise quirks an eyebrow, and I'm not sure if I like that he seems to be focusing on that little morsel of information. "We're having pasta for tea?"
I slowly nod.
"I can't believe you think it's acceptable to feed my friends this Muggle rubbish!" Blaise grabbs the pasta from the cupboard and throws it in the bin. "We are not having pasta for tea. Make us some real food."
A sense of relief washes over me when Blaise leaves the kitchen. I think I've got off pretty lightly all things considered; he hasn't physically hurt me... yet. The only reason I'd decided on pasta is because Theo had come round looking for Blaise one day and found me cooking it, ended up trying some and loving it. I thought it'd be a nice tribute to him. But of course, Blaise couldn't know that Theo had been here with me alone, so I couldn't exactly tell him why I'd chosen pasta.
Now I'll have to think of a new dish pretty sharpish, and I'm already stressed with having his friends round for the evening. In one way, it's a good thing, because Blaise is always loving and attentive with them near, and he wouldn't dare hurt me in front of them. But on the other, everything has to go smoothly and it's quite stressful making sure it does. Often times I'm made out to be his perfect little trophy wife, and I hate being that in front of Slytherins I know used to hate me. Probably still do, in most cases. Theo is all right, but Marcus is a right little git, and Draco is just disinterested.
I rummage through the cupboards, looking for any ingredients which will help me decide what to make. I find a bit of this and that here and there, and decide to make a casserole. I made one a few weeks ago and it had gone down well, so hopefully it will again. I make it as quickly as I can, and while it's in the oven I dash upstairs to see what Blaise has picked out for me. He doesn't always pick my clothes, but he likes to when we have people round so he can 'show me off properly'. I know it's going to be revealing.
"What are we having?"
"Oh!" I say, a little startled as I enter the bedroom. I hadn't expected him to be here; I thought he'd be in his study. "For tea?" He nods, an expectant look on his face. "A casserole. Everyone liked it last time so—"
"Good."
I smile weakly and look down at the bed. There is a bright red halter-neck style dress on it for me. I haven't seen it before; he must have bought it specifically for this occasion. It makes me worry in case there's something planned that I'm not aware of. "It's lovely," I say quietly when I realise he's looking at me. "New?"
Blaise nods and steps behind me, placing his arms on my shoulders affectionately. Well, it would have looked affectionate, if there were anyone watching, but I know it's really a controlling tactic. If I'd been thinking about refusing the dress before, I'm certainly not now. "Aren't you going to try it on?"
"Yeah," I say quickly, pulling out of Blaise's grasp and taking my robe off. "Course. I was just admiring it."
"That's what I like to hear." Blaise sits down on the bed and watches me intently. He likes to watch me get dressed and it always makes me feel uncomfortable. I don't like having his gaze roam my body as I take my clothes off. "What are you doing?"
I freeze, mid-state of dress. I'd just started to place the dress over my head when Blaise's voice, cold and firm, stops me. What could I possibly be doing wrong now? "Um, I thought you wanted me to put the dress on?"
"Yes. The dress, and only the dress."
Shit. Not this again. I know what he wants. He wants me to forgo underwear. I hate doing that because even though his friends won't know, I'll know, and it'll feel like they do. I don't have a choice if I want to keep him happy though, and I do want to keep him happy. "Right, yeah. Sorry." I don't mean my apology, but it'll placate him. I put the dress carefully back onto the bed and take off my underwear, trying to keep the burning flush of humiliation off my face as I do so. I slip the dress back on over my head and do the zip up the back. The fabric—silk—feels cold and strange against my completely naked skin.
"Perfect. You look amazing."
I manage a small smile and turn to look at myself in the mirror. Despite the lack of a bra, my cleavage shows off really well. Too well, in fact. It wouldn't be so bad if the dress wasn't so short, but it only comes down to just above my knees. With so much cleavage, I'd rather it was full length. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Now get downstairs and see to that casserole. I'm sure I can smell something burning." I nod and head out of the room, but Blaise isn't done with his orders and calls after me. "And do your hair and make-up afterwards!"
As if I would dare not. I don't respond; it wasn't a question. Blaise was lying about smelling burning. The casserole won't be ready for another few minutes yet. It gives me enough time to work on my hair and make-up, which never usually takes long. I've practised my fair share of beauty spells during this marriage—mostly at Blaise's insistence—and I've pretty much got my 'look' down to a tee. Well, the 'look' I have when I'm going out or we're having people round. Otherwise I just put on a bit of mascara and lippy, unless Blaise indicates otherwise.
I never used to wear make-up. Not in school, nor afterwards. Not until my wedding day, when I wore it because it was such a special occasion, and every day since he's insisted I do so. He calls it 'making an effort', says he goes to enough trouble for me (though quite frankly, I think shaving, washing and wearing fresh robes should be something he does whether he has a wife or not) and I should reciprocate. So I do.
I hear the oven make a noise to signal the casserole is ready, and I double-check my hair and make-up before I go to fetch it. I must look like the perfect trophy wife else Blaise will have a fit, and I'll be the one paying for it. Moderately happy with how I look, I go back into the kitchen and take the casserole out of the oven. It looks good; not undercooked nor burnt, so at least that's one thing that's gone right this evening. If nothing else, I won't get punished for that.
I'm just serving it up when I hear a knock at the door. My heart goes for a second, but I remind myself that I have time for Blaise to greet his friends and make small talk with them. I'm also relieved I thought to set the table earlier. Their voices travel through the hallway and into the dining room, which is just adjacent to the kitchen. It's open plan, an arch separating the two rooms, but with my back to them, serving the food, I can't see exactly who is here yet. It sounds as though two of them arrived together, and I listen closely to try and discern the voices.
"Yes, beautiful weather. Pansy's been trying to convince me to picnic with her after she saw the Muggles do it a few days ago, but I've managed to dodge it so far."
I'd know that particular voice anywhere now I'm listening properly, and the mention of Pansy only makes things easier. That's Draco, of course it is. The disdain for Muggles is evident in the way he spoke the term, and I half wonder why he never cast Blaise off when he married me. Surely he doesn't agree with his best friend marrying a Muggleborn?
A throaty laugh. "Ahh yes. Picnicking. They seem to think it's so romantic, and yet, being attacked by swans doesn't exactly turn me on."
Theo. It doesn't surprise me that Theo's tried it; he's confessed to me, when a little tipsy, I'll admit, that he's an old romantic at heart. He just hasn't found anyone to settle down with yet.
"You got attacked by swans?" Draco asks, a laugh escaping him after he speaks.
I hear the scrape of chairs as I serve up the last meal, and I hope that Marcus will be here soon. I don't like the bastard, far from it, but I'm not quite sure what the etiquette is when a guest is late. To give myself some extra time, I grab a few glasses and decide to ask what everyone wants to drink. Setting the glasses down on the counter, I tentatively walk a few steps forwards into the dining room. The conversation stops as all three men turn to look at me; Theo smiles at me, Draco arches an eyebrow, while Blaise appears to wonder what I'm about to do.
I have to clear my throat before I speak, else I'm sure it'd break under their gazes. "Would you like anything to drink, gentleman?"
"A Firewhisky please, Hermione," Theo states brightly.
"Same," Draco mutters, turning away from me. It's as though he can't bear to look at me any longer than he has to.
"Yes," Blaise says, his face visibly relaxing. "I'll have one too."
I smile and turn back to the kitchen, opening the cupboard that houses all our alcohol. I grab the unopened bottle of Blishen's finest, knowing that only the best will do for Blaise's friends. I pour a modest amount into three glasses; I won't be drinking tonight, or any other night. The taste of alcohol doesn't much capture me, and I don't like the after-effects either. I take a small tray from under the sink and place the glasses on it, almost as if I'm a barmaid. I'm just setting the glasses down in front of the men when there's another knock at the door and I inwardly sigh with relief. My anxiety, over that particular issue anyway, is relieved.
"Is that Firewhisky I see?" Marcus says loudly as he follows Blaise into the room. "Get me some of that, wench."
My stomach churns with hatred for him, but I do as he says. He's not worth what Blaise would do to me if I retaliated.
"Play nicely," Blaise says, though he smirks at his friend. I glance at Draco as I hand Marcus his drink, and he's smirking too. Theo isn't though. He's completely blank. "I'm starving. Where's the food?"
"It's coming," I say, attempting to keep the terseness out of my voice. I take the dishes and hand them out, serving Blaise first and placing mine down last. I sit down, opposite Blaise, and realise too late that I've forgotten to get myself a drink. I can't get up now, though. I'll just have to put up with it. "Please, enjoy."
Taking my cue, everyone begins to eat. Initial impressions are somewhat positive; Theo and Blaise like it, Draco, as always, is indifferent, while Marcus doesn't say a word. That probably means he likes it but he's too proud to admit it.
"So, how are you finding being an Auror?" Blaise says to Draco. My interest perks up as I know he works alongside Harry and Ron, who I don't get to see any more and barely hear anything from. "Don't have to work with the Potter brat, do you?"
Draco laughs and I roll my eyes. It goes unnoticed.
"He's not that bad—" Theo chimes in, though he's interrupted by Draco talking over him. Theo glances at me and provides a weak smile, which I return.
"Well, I can't exactly avoid either of them, put it that way. But he's not my partner, thankfully. Potter seems to think he knows how the department is best run, and that bastard Kingsley is drinking it all in." Draco takes a large sip of his Firewhisky, while I angrily cut up my food. "Just because he killed the Dark Lord he thinks he knows everything."
"He's always thought he's known everything," Marcus says spitefully.
"No," Blaise corrects him, "I think you'll find that was her." He points at me, and I feel their gazes on me once more as I focus on my food. "Until I showed her just how little she really does know, of course."
I can't help but blush as they laugh, though I notice Theo's fingers gesturing to me slightly and take comfort in the fact that he isn't. Even more so when he quickly changes the subject.
"And you, Blaise?" Theo asks. "How is your business doing?"
Blaise purses his lips slightly and his eyes narrow. "Fine, thank you."
It isn't, though. I know full well, as much as Blaise has tried to hide it from me, that his business isn't doing so well. After struggling to get a Ministry job as desired (he doesn't have the connections nor the Galleons the Malfoys have), he settled for creating his own business selling Quidditch supplies. Except, it seems that people aren't that keen to buy from someone with such a murky past. No, Blaise was never a Death Eater, but it's always been quite clear where his loyalties lie. I think he thought marrying me would help his standing, god knows he charmed me enough, but it didn't.
Yes, that's correct. Blaise was charming, once. Well, he can be when he wants to be anyway. Otherwise I'd never have married him, would I? It all changed after we married, though. He carefully pulled apart all my friendships until I suddenly found myself all alone, and his suggestion that I give up work, while I argued it at first, was agreed to once he showed me his true colours.
"I heard your new shop girl is something to be admired," Marcus says smarmily. He's smirking, and looking from Blaise to me, but I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing I'm concerned about his statement. Quite honestly, I hadn't even known Blaise had a new employee.
"Oh yes," Draco agrees. "That she is. But don't tell Pansy; she'll never let me come back!"
Blaise laughs. "Well, of course nobody is as beautiful as my lovely wife," he says, turning and smiling at me. For once I actually feel like maybe he won't undermine or humiliate me. Until I hear his next sentence. "But yes. She's extremely attractive. She's got lovely eyes."
The boys laugh as Blaise smirks, and it's pretty obvious what he means. Despite the fact that I don't love him, I care if he decides to make a move on someone else. It would just be far too much for me to bear, and word would get around faster than I could possibly imagine. I make a note to keep an eye on that.
"Set your sights on anyone yet, Theo?" Draco asks, staring pointedly at his friend.
"No," Theo admits.
"He's far too picky, that's his problem," Marcus quips. "There was 'nowt wrong with that last witch."
"Except for the fact that she couldn't put two and two together, you mean?" Theo sighs, and I see his fingers tense on his cutlery.
"Who cares if they're intelligent?" Marcus looks aghast at this suggestion. "In fact, it's better if they're not. Look at all the trouble Blaise has had with her." Marcus smiles cruelly at me and I return it in kind. I get a warning look from Blaise, but my patience is fast wearing thin. "She's docile now, but we all know why."
I don't like that. I don't like to think that they all know why I'm not the fiery Gryffindor I once was. I drop my gaze and find my food more fascinating than I should, relieved when Theo sends the conversation in a different direction. I tune everything out until it's time for pudding, mutely clearing the table and making sure to keep my eyes away from anyone else's. I don't know if they're all staring at me, but it certainly feels like it.
"What's for afters?" Blaise's voice calls through to the kitchen as I get out the smaller plates.
"I made a chocolate gateau," I say quietly, cutting the cake into five pieces. I hand them out and then grab the Firewhisky, offering a top up to those who want it. All the men accept one, and I take this opportunity to fetch my own drink before sitting down. I'm parched, and end up drinking nearly half the glass before I even start on my cake. I receive a curious look from Blaise, but I simply smile politely, as if there's nothing odd about what I've done. There isn't, really. Nothing sinister about it, anyway.
"Pansy seems to be on a one-woman crusade to take over my life," Draco says. He always starts to moan about his wife after he's had a drink or two.
Blaise laughs. "She is your wife!"
"Perhaps, but she seems to be clingier now than she ever has been before. She won't leave me alone."
"She thinks you're cheating," Marcus says quickly, and very matter-of-factly. "That's always the way when they suspect something. They stick to you like glue, so you don't have chance to cheat. Or as a way for them to see if you are cheating."
"I'm not cheating," Draco says firmly. He seems offended by the insinuation that he would, but I wouldn't put it past him. Slytherins have no morals, I'm sure.
Marcus shrugs. "Doesn't stop her thinking you are, though."
"Hmm." Draco doesn't seem convinced. He pushes his cake around more than eats it, but everyone else seems to like it, so he could just not be hungry. "The thing is, the clingier she gets, the more I want to pull away. I need the space. If she hadn't already had plans tonight, I'm sure she would have insisted on coming."
"Why doesn't she ever come?" The words are out of my mouth before I realise what I've said, and the entire table looks at me in stunned silence. Draco in particular looks surprised that I've questioned him. He likes to ignore me as much as possible, and that's usually fine by me, but now I've asked him a direct question, he doesn't seem as if he knows what to do. Mind, I have always wondered why he never brings his wife along. Theo and Marcus are both single, and never stay with a witch long enough to be invited, but Draco's been married to Pansy before Blaise and I even got together.
Finally collecting himself, Draco narrows his eyes at me. "None of your business," he says, then turns away from me to pretend I'm not there once more. Theo looks away too, but Marcus stays smirking at me, and Blaise's face is one of thunder. No doubt he'll try to say I was insulting his friends with that remark later.
"So," Blaise says loudly. "Are you all up for the poker game next Saturday?"
Ahh, the poker game. Of course. They do it every month, and it's a nightmare for me each time. At least when he invites them over for dinner I'm included, but with his poker games I'm just an extra. I play the part of waitress, as Blaise demands. Couldn't expect them to get up and get their own snacks, could I?
"Of course," Theo says, his face lighting up. He loves poker. He's the best at it, to be truthful, but I can't exactly tell Blaise that. He likes to think he's got the game sussed, but really, he's just arrogant. "Usual crowd?"
Blaise nods. "Yeah. Pike and Harper have already told me they're coming." He looks at the others expectantly. "Marcus? Draco?"
"I'll be there," Draco says as he finishes eating. I can see that not even half of the cake is gone, but he obviously doesn't care about offending me.
"And me." Marcus puts down his knife and fork too, but he's actually finished the cake, as Blaise and Theo are close to doing. It must just be Draco who doesn't like it.
I stand and clear the plates away when everyone's finished, ignoring the conversation about Quidditch. They all support different teams so there's banter every time they get together. Knowing that their next move will be to retire to the parlour, I make up some more drinks and place them on a tray, taking them through as the men follow swiftly behind me. Thankfully, I'm out of the limelight now. They'll sit in the other room and discuss Quidditch, women and politics while I clean and do the washing up. It's the best part of the night, quite honestly. It's after I'm forced to interact with them at the dinner table but before they leave and Blaise chastises me for all my 'mistakes'.
I set my wand to spell the washing up into doing itself, then curl up in the armchair in the corner of the kitchen with a good book. I don't get many chances to read these days and so when I do, it truly is my sanctuary like it never has been before. I can get lost in the characters and pretend, if only for the time that I'm reading, that I'm not stuck in a love-less marriage with a man who hits me.
I get so lost in my latest book that I don't even realise Blaise has walked into the room. He clears his throat loudly, and I reluctantly drag my attentions to focus on him. "Have they gone?" I ask, not having heard the door go at all.
"Yes," Blaise says quietly, eyeing me suspiciously. I don't know what's going on in that head of his, but I'm not sure I really want to find out. "Your behaviour tonight..." He falters, and I worry about what that could mean for me. I bite my lip in anticipation, worrying about what's going to come next. "It was good. Even the boys thought so."
Oh? I hadn't expected that response at all. He thought I was well behaved? And the others did too? I don't know what to say, so I just smile weakly. Then a blush creeps onto my cheeks as I realise how humiliating it feels to realise they were talking about my behaviour as though I were a trained, prized pet.
"They thought you looked beautiful, too."
"The outfit was a good choice," I say almost autonomously. I know it's the reply he wanted, since he was the one to choose my attire. He'd think me ungrateful otherwise, and I don't want to spoil what's turning out to be a relatively calm night.
"It's late," Blaise remarks, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks slightly inebriated, so I know I'll need to make sure there's an appropriate potion on his bedside table tomorrow morning. "I've got a business meeting first thing so I'm going to get an early night. You finish clearing up and then join me. Okay?"
I nod and he walks out, his feet thudding quietly up the stairs. I can't help but smile; he doesn't want relations tonight and I've basically been given a free pass to stay up as long as I want. He did say to join him after clearing up, but he falls asleep rather quickly and won't have a clue what time it is when I do get into bed. That's if he even wakes at all; a lot of the time he doesn't. I need to clear up first though, because if he does wake and comes down to see me, I can say I'm just finishing up.
It doesn't take long for me to clean up the remainder of the dining room and kitchen, and with the washing up, that's those adjoining rooms done. I walk into the parlour, relieved to see that apart from a few glasses, it's pretty much as clean as when I left it. I check the coffee table to make sure there are no stains, but it seems like everyone has used the provided coasters today. Great! The only thing left to do now is take out the rubbish, then I can finally settle down with my book again. It's nearing midnight, so I should get a good hours read at least.
I place my wand on the kitchen counter and take out the rubbish, quietly opening the door. I close it behind me and make my way down the garden path, placing the rubbish in the bin at the end. The bin men are coming round tomorrow so I make sure to wheel it onto the streets for them. With a quick look at the gorgeous night sky and a heavy sigh, I make my way back to the house, but as soon as I'm three or four steps away, a hand clamps around my throat and pulls me behind the bush by the door. I knew there was a reason I wanted rid of the damn thing.
"Ssh!" The voice behind me says, and I'm just thinking about the audacity of such a request when I realise exactly who the voice belongs to.
"Theo?" I manage to mumble through his hand.
"Yeah, it's me. Will you be quiet?"
I nod tentatively and whirl around, facing him with anger when he lets me go. "What on earth are you doing?!"
"I know what's going on, you know," Theo says with a resounding sigh. "We all do."
"So?" I challenge him, narrowing my eyes. I don't like people interfering in my business and talking about me, especially when there's nothing they can do to stop it.
"I... I can help you."
I raise a disbelieving eyebrow.
"Blaise is one of your best friends," I say matter-of-factly. "There's nothing you can do without betraying him."
"Then I'll betray him." Theo sinks into a comfortable position on the grass, leaning against the house, and I follow suit by kneeling down in front of him. He looks serious, but I don't want to get my hopes up if he's going to bottle it at a later time. "What he's doing... it's not right. I can't let it go on any longer."
"Blaise and I have been married for two years. Why step in now?" I know I should be grateful, but I'm a little irritated that it took him so long to decide he needs to do something.
"I know, I'm sorry. But I didn't want to believe it at first, and then I called round the other day... Well, I was going to, but I saw what he did to you through the window and legged it. I've not been able to sleep properly since."
I look at the floor awkwardly, rather embarrassed. I know I shouldn't be, that it's not my fault, but I can't help it. "I don't think there's anything to be done anyway."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it?" I quirk an eyebrow.
"What about your friends? Harry, Ron?"
I shake my head sadly. "I haven't spoken to them since a month or so after we got married. I wouldn't even know how to contact them."
"Still, I think they'd want to help if they thought you were in trouble. I could contact them for you?"
"And then what?" I know I'm being pessimistic, but I've long since believed there's no way out of this situation for me. To think otherwise is hard, and I don't want to be getting my hopes up only to be let down.
Theo shrugged. "When does Blaise work?"
"Every day, but only a half-day on Sunday."
"Times?"
"He leaves here about 8:45 A.M. every morning and returns just after 5:00 P.M. usually. Why?"
"Look," Theo says quietly, looking around anxiously to make sure Blaise isn't anywhere about. "What if I get hold of them—I work at the Ministry, after all—and let them know what's going on? I'm sure they'd be rushing round to help, and if they know when Blaise isn't here, they can help you leave, give you somewhere safe to stay. Pack a few things and hide them away somewhere. When they come, you can easily leave."
"I don't know..." I start, but Theo places a reassuring hand upon my knee and just for a second, I believe it might work. I feel a little sick, both from the excitement and anxiety. I'm also slightly worried this might be a trick of Blaise's, to see if I would leave if I had the chance. But Theo seems so genuine, and we've gotten along before... "I suppose I don't have much to lose," I say after a few moments thought.
Theo smiles briefly and gets up onto his haunches. "Look, I'd better go, but remember what I've said. Once Ron and Harry take you away from here, you're safe. Don't refuse to go because you're scared, okay?"
I nod, but I can't promise anything. I can just imagine how Blaise will react if I'm not there when he returns one day. He won't leave me alone, I know it. He's said as much to me himself. I'll never be free of him and he'll never stop looking for me. It's not as if they'd put Blaise in Azkaban, is it? He's not exactly a Death Eater... "Thanks, Theo," I say quietly as he gets up to leave. He gives me a polite nod, walks a few steps down the street and then Disapparates. I take a few moments to collect myself and digest what just happened.
Theo just offered me a way out. Will it happen? If it does, can I take it? I try to think how it'll be seeing Harry and Ron after all this time, and whether or not they'll hate me as much as I think they will. Maybe they hate me so much that they won't even come. I sigh heavily and go back inside. I don't want to read any more. I don't think I could focus even if I wanted to.
It's going to be hard enough getting to sleep.
[♥]
It seems Theo's way out was a trick, after all. It's been a week and a day since the dinner party and he didn't even turn up to Blaise's poker game. I'm confused as to why Blaise hasn't confronted me about it, though. Perhaps he's biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to throw it upon me and punish me. Quite frankly, it's putting me on edge. I wish he'd just hurry up and get it over with so I don't have to walk on eggshells any more.
I grab my wand and head out into the garden, determined to rid the weeds from my beautiful flowerbeds. As much as I love my flowers, the constant maintenance, even with my wand, can be tiring at times. Blaise especially doesn't like it if they're not perfect all the time. Honestly, I think it's his whining that's put me off my garden.
I move the doormat in front of the first section of garden and kneel down on it, frowning at the weeds that have grown in between my tulips. I can tell the slugs have been at them too. I bring my wand up to sort out the problem, but as I do, I hear a small hiss from somewhere. I stop, wand in the air, and turn around to see if there's anyone about, but the place looks deserted. I shrug, deciding I must have been hearing things and go back to my task. I've only got rid of one blasted weed when I hear the same noise again, and this time when I turn around, I see a lock of flaming red hair.
Could it be? I daren't hope, but I'm ready to tell myself not to be so ridiculous. I stand and follow the hair, and when I enter the street, the hair turns the corner. I quickly lock my door and walk, almost run, down the street. I turn the corner too, and my hopes were right... it's Ron. And Harry's beside him. I can hardly believe it. I don't know what to say, and by the looks of it, neither do they. I have to smile when Ron finally comes out with something, though.
"What did you get Harry and me for Christmas in 1995?"
I don't even have to think about my answer, I remember what I bought them and how disappointed they both were. "A homework planner." They seem relieved, and I know I should ask one too, but I'm just so relieved myself and it's clearly them.
"Hermione!" Ron cries, and they both rush at me straight away, giving me a massive hug. It's so much more than I could have hoped for and I never believed this would be their reaction upon seeing me again. "It's true... what Nott said?"
I nod as they pull away. I don't know exactly what Theo said, but it's likely true.
"He said you had stuff packed. Could you go and get it?" Harry asks tentatively. They're clearly using their Auror training techniques on me. Delicately, as though they don't want to scare me away. "We'll wait here. Lock the door after you."
I quickly do as he says, afraid in case Blaise decides to come home at lunchtime for the first time ever. I grab the small bag I packed in my bedside table and head back downstairs. I don't even give the house one last look round; it holds too many bad memories for me. I'm out of the door and locking it before I've even properly registered the situation.
"Good," Ron says, smiling at me. "That's good."
"You're safe now," Harry says gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We'll look after you."
I smile meekly, rather embarrassed at even being in this situation in the first place and requiring their help. They must have much more important matters to attend to than me, surely.
"One of us will Side-along Apparate with you. Who would you prefer?" Harry asks, looking around nervously as if he's worrying Blaise will pop along at any moment too.
"I don't mind." I really don't. I'm just relieved they're finally here, saving me. That I'm finally free of Blaise's grasp.
"Grab my arm," Ron volunteers, holding out his forearm for me. I take it, and as soon as I do, Ron Disapparates. He's clearly eager to leave. "Here, we're in the Ministry. Don't worry, it's Draco's day off today. Come on, our office is just down here..."
Harry arrives seconds after we do and I follow them down to their office. I think about how well they've done for themselves, how far they've come, and how I'm going to have to start all over again, right from scratch. I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do with myself. I'm lost. I don't even know if I know myself any more. With a heavy sigh, I sit down on the chair Ron offers me and instead of sitting on the other side of the desk, they bring their chairs round so they're next to me instead.
"Are you..." Harry starts, looking me over. Probably scanning to see if I have any visible bruises. "Are you okay?"
I nod. "I'm fine. Just relieved, taking it all in."
"If we'd have known..." Ron began. "We thought you didn't want anything to do with us any more, that you'd chosen Zabini over us."
"No," I say quietly, though I can see how it would have looked that way to them. "Blaise is a master manipulator..."
"Look," Harry says, and his voice is stern and firm now. He's acting more like an Auror than my friend now. "If you're willing to stand trial against him, he could go to Azkaban."
I shake my head sadly. "There's no point. There's no proof. I'd just be humiliated and he'd end up laughing his way out the courts."
"Actually," Ron says with a wan smile, reaching over the desk for a brown file and placing it in my lap. "We have photographic proof."
"How?" I open the file and pull out the contents. There must be fifty or more photos in here, clearly taken through a window. The photos show Blaise's angry face, first pushing me against a wall and then slapping me across the face. I feel sick as I look at the photos near the back, which are more graphic, and detail Blaise's fist in my stomach. All of a sudden it's too much and I push them back into the file quickly. I place it back on the table and lean back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest defensively.
"Theodore Nott took them." Harry eyes me cautiously, as if he's not sure how I'm going to react. "He's confirmed he'll testify if we need him to."
"I don't know..."
"We can try and be as discreet as possible. We'll put a blanket ban on the newspapers, refusing to let them report on the trial. If that's what you want."
"Where am I going to live?" I say suddenly, preferring to focus more on my current troubles than any that could be created by putting Blaise on trial. I wonder if he's realised I'm gone yet, but I glance at the clock and it's nowhere near the time he'd be finishing work. I've a few hours before the Howlers start, I'm sure. "What if Blaise comes after me?"
"He won't," Ron says firmly, looking at Harry briefly before turning back to me. "And you can live with us, at Grimmauld Place. It's no bother."
"Blaise definitely won't find you there," Harry says confidently. "Even if he guessed correctly at where you'd gone, he can't get near the place."
"Howlers..."
"Grimmauld's warded against them." Harry pats my knee softly, but removes his hand after a moment. I realise how much we're going to have to work on our relationship to get back to how comfortable we used to be. "Trust me, if you testify against him, Blaise will definitely go to Azkaban. And then you can build your life back as normal, without having to worry about bumping into him. If you don't, you might meet him out and about, and we can't guarantee we'll always be with you to look out for you."
"I don't need looking after," I reply sharply. "I've been married to him for years."
"We know..." Ron starts to play with the fabric of his robes, clearly anxious about something. "Hermione," he starts tentatively. "If you're going to testify, it'll be better soon rather than later. If you give us the go ahead, we can go and arrest Zabini at work right now. Once he finds you're gone, if he decides to scarper it'll be much harder to make sure he turns up for the trial."
I stand up, suddenly feeling light-headed and dizzy. "I need a minute," I mumble, stumbling out of the office and over to the window directly outside of it. I open it up for some air, taking in the summer smells and sounds. In the background, I can hear Ron and Harry arguing over whether Ron pushed me too hard too fast, but I just want to block everything out to be able to think properly for a moment. What Harry said is very true, and I really don't want to be bumping into him when I'm trying to get my life back on track. Plus, with him in Azkaban, it'll be much easier and quicker to get a divorce from him. But at the same time... how can I face him? What will he say when he sees me? What about his family, his friends? What will Malfoy say? But if I don't testify, I might not be the only woman Blaise ever hurts.
"Hermione?" I turn at Ron's small voice. He's stood in the doorway of his office, looking as though he thinks he'll break me if he comes any closer. I hate that. I can't wait until they're treating me as normal once more, but I know it'll take time.
"I'll do it," I say quickly, before I can back out. "I'll testify. But I want that ban on the papers."
Both Ron and Harry give me a small smile, and Ron rushes off down the corridor. I don't feel any better or safer for agreeing to face my husband in court, but deep down I know it's the right thing to do. The only thing I could really do. I allow Harry to escort me back into the office and wait on tenterhooks for Ron and the rest of the Aurors to return and let me know how Blaise reacted. I know the trial will take months and my whole sorry affair will be dragged through the courts, but at the very least, the rest of the Wizarding world won't know why Blaise has been imprisoned. Only those who'll know the intimate details of our lives will be those in the courtrooms, and I realise with a sick, sinking feel that that will include Ron, Harry and Theo, and probably even Draco. He's bound to show up to support his best friend, after all.
For now, though, there's nothing I can do but sit and wait, agonising over my current situation. Everything may be up in the air right now, but the one thing I do know is that Blaise will never touch me again, and that thought makes me happier than I've been in a long time.
Author/Artist:
scarletladyyPrompt: Hermione is married to a violent, abusive and manipulative wizard.
Pairing(s): Hermione/Blaise
Word Count/Art Medium: 7,312
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Domestic abuse, mentions of past violence
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: The story takes its title from the famous Red Jumpsuit Apparatus song. Thank you to my beta, S, and the mods for running another great fest.
Summary: Blaise is having his Slytherin friends round for tea, which means Hermione is stressed and anxious trying to make sure everything is perfect. Unbeknownst to all but one of them, however, her life is about to change forever.
Every action in this world will bear a consequence
If you wade around forever you will surely drown
I see what's going down
Perhaps the most terrifying thing of all is that I have absolutely no idea what mood Blaise is going be in when I get home. If he's had a good day at work, everything could be peaches and cream and it'll be like there are no problems whatsoever, but if anyone's done even one little thing to piss him off, I'll end up paying for it. I always do, regardless of whether it's anything to do with me.
The village clock strikes five as I leave the corner shop and walk quickly home. I don't work any more and Blaise doesn't like me to be out without permission, so I hope he'll be slightly delayed and I'll make it back in time to start tea. If there hadn't been such a large queue I wouldn't be late, but then again, if I hadn't been in desperate need of pasta, I wouldn't have even gone.
There are no signs of life when I arrive home, so I place my shopping bag on the counter and begin to empty it. I put everything away exactly where it's supposed to be, making sure there isn't a product out of place. If there is, Blaise will immediately notice and reprimand me for it. I grab the bag and go to place it in the bin with the receipt, to hide the evidence of my brief encounter out of the house, but as I turn, I feel two heavy hands upon my shoulders and my heart sinks.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice you'd gone?"
"Um, no." I spin around to face my husband and plaster an innocent smile upon my face. "I just needed some more pasta for tonight, that's all. There was a large queue."
"Pasta?" Blaise quirks an eyebrow, and I'm not sure if I like that he seems to be focusing on that little morsel of information. "We're having pasta for tea?"
I slowly nod.
"I can't believe you think it's acceptable to feed my friends this Muggle rubbish!" Blaise grabbs the pasta from the cupboard and throws it in the bin. "We are not having pasta for tea. Make us some real food."
A sense of relief washes over me when Blaise leaves the kitchen. I think I've got off pretty lightly all things considered; he hasn't physically hurt me... yet. The only reason I'd decided on pasta is because Theo had come round looking for Blaise one day and found me cooking it, ended up trying some and loving it. I thought it'd be a nice tribute to him. But of course, Blaise couldn't know that Theo had been here with me alone, so I couldn't exactly tell him why I'd chosen pasta.
Now I'll have to think of a new dish pretty sharpish, and I'm already stressed with having his friends round for the evening. In one way, it's a good thing, because Blaise is always loving and attentive with them near, and he wouldn't dare hurt me in front of them. But on the other, everything has to go smoothly and it's quite stressful making sure it does. Often times I'm made out to be his perfect little trophy wife, and I hate being that in front of Slytherins I know used to hate me. Probably still do, in most cases. Theo is all right, but Marcus is a right little git, and Draco is just disinterested.
I rummage through the cupboards, looking for any ingredients which will help me decide what to make. I find a bit of this and that here and there, and decide to make a casserole. I made one a few weeks ago and it had gone down well, so hopefully it will again. I make it as quickly as I can, and while it's in the oven I dash upstairs to see what Blaise has picked out for me. He doesn't always pick my clothes, but he likes to when we have people round so he can 'show me off properly'. I know it's going to be revealing.
"What are we having?"
"Oh!" I say, a little startled as I enter the bedroom. I hadn't expected him to be here; I thought he'd be in his study. "For tea?" He nods, an expectant look on his face. "A casserole. Everyone liked it last time so—"
"Good."
I smile weakly and look down at the bed. There is a bright red halter-neck style dress on it for me. I haven't seen it before; he must have bought it specifically for this occasion. It makes me worry in case there's something planned that I'm not aware of. "It's lovely," I say quietly when I realise he's looking at me. "New?"
Blaise nods and steps behind me, placing his arms on my shoulders affectionately. Well, it would have looked affectionate, if there were anyone watching, but I know it's really a controlling tactic. If I'd been thinking about refusing the dress before, I'm certainly not now. "Aren't you going to try it on?"
"Yeah," I say quickly, pulling out of Blaise's grasp and taking my robe off. "Course. I was just admiring it."
"That's what I like to hear." Blaise sits down on the bed and watches me intently. He likes to watch me get dressed and it always makes me feel uncomfortable. I don't like having his gaze roam my body as I take my clothes off. "What are you doing?"
I freeze, mid-state of dress. I'd just started to place the dress over my head when Blaise's voice, cold and firm, stops me. What could I possibly be doing wrong now? "Um, I thought you wanted me to put the dress on?"
"Yes. The dress, and only the dress."
Shit. Not this again. I know what he wants. He wants me to forgo underwear. I hate doing that because even though his friends won't know, I'll know, and it'll feel like they do. I don't have a choice if I want to keep him happy though, and I do want to keep him happy. "Right, yeah. Sorry." I don't mean my apology, but it'll placate him. I put the dress carefully back onto the bed and take off my underwear, trying to keep the burning flush of humiliation off my face as I do so. I slip the dress back on over my head and do the zip up the back. The fabric—silk—feels cold and strange against my completely naked skin.
"Perfect. You look amazing."
I manage a small smile and turn to look at myself in the mirror. Despite the lack of a bra, my cleavage shows off really well. Too well, in fact. It wouldn't be so bad if the dress wasn't so short, but it only comes down to just above my knees. With so much cleavage, I'd rather it was full length. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Now get downstairs and see to that casserole. I'm sure I can smell something burning." I nod and head out of the room, but Blaise isn't done with his orders and calls after me. "And do your hair and make-up afterwards!"
As if I would dare not. I don't respond; it wasn't a question. Blaise was lying about smelling burning. The casserole won't be ready for another few minutes yet. It gives me enough time to work on my hair and make-up, which never usually takes long. I've practised my fair share of beauty spells during this marriage—mostly at Blaise's insistence—and I've pretty much got my 'look' down to a tee. Well, the 'look' I have when I'm going out or we're having people round. Otherwise I just put on a bit of mascara and lippy, unless Blaise indicates otherwise.
I never used to wear make-up. Not in school, nor afterwards. Not until my wedding day, when I wore it because it was such a special occasion, and every day since he's insisted I do so. He calls it 'making an effort', says he goes to enough trouble for me (though quite frankly, I think shaving, washing and wearing fresh robes should be something he does whether he has a wife or not) and I should reciprocate. So I do.
I hear the oven make a noise to signal the casserole is ready, and I double-check my hair and make-up before I go to fetch it. I must look like the perfect trophy wife else Blaise will have a fit, and I'll be the one paying for it. Moderately happy with how I look, I go back into the kitchen and take the casserole out of the oven. It looks good; not undercooked nor burnt, so at least that's one thing that's gone right this evening. If nothing else, I won't get punished for that.
I'm just serving it up when I hear a knock at the door. My heart goes for a second, but I remind myself that I have time for Blaise to greet his friends and make small talk with them. I'm also relieved I thought to set the table earlier. Their voices travel through the hallway and into the dining room, which is just adjacent to the kitchen. It's open plan, an arch separating the two rooms, but with my back to them, serving the food, I can't see exactly who is here yet. It sounds as though two of them arrived together, and I listen closely to try and discern the voices.
"Yes, beautiful weather. Pansy's been trying to convince me to picnic with her after she saw the Muggles do it a few days ago, but I've managed to dodge it so far."
I'd know that particular voice anywhere now I'm listening properly, and the mention of Pansy only makes things easier. That's Draco, of course it is. The disdain for Muggles is evident in the way he spoke the term, and I half wonder why he never cast Blaise off when he married me. Surely he doesn't agree with his best friend marrying a Muggleborn?
A throaty laugh. "Ahh yes. Picnicking. They seem to think it's so romantic, and yet, being attacked by swans doesn't exactly turn me on."
Theo. It doesn't surprise me that Theo's tried it; he's confessed to me, when a little tipsy, I'll admit, that he's an old romantic at heart. He just hasn't found anyone to settle down with yet.
"You got attacked by swans?" Draco asks, a laugh escaping him after he speaks.
I hear the scrape of chairs as I serve up the last meal, and I hope that Marcus will be here soon. I don't like the bastard, far from it, but I'm not quite sure what the etiquette is when a guest is late. To give myself some extra time, I grab a few glasses and decide to ask what everyone wants to drink. Setting the glasses down on the counter, I tentatively walk a few steps forwards into the dining room. The conversation stops as all three men turn to look at me; Theo smiles at me, Draco arches an eyebrow, while Blaise appears to wonder what I'm about to do.
I have to clear my throat before I speak, else I'm sure it'd break under their gazes. "Would you like anything to drink, gentleman?"
"A Firewhisky please, Hermione," Theo states brightly.
"Same," Draco mutters, turning away from me. It's as though he can't bear to look at me any longer than he has to.
"Yes," Blaise says, his face visibly relaxing. "I'll have one too."
I smile and turn back to the kitchen, opening the cupboard that houses all our alcohol. I grab the unopened bottle of Blishen's finest, knowing that only the best will do for Blaise's friends. I pour a modest amount into three glasses; I won't be drinking tonight, or any other night. The taste of alcohol doesn't much capture me, and I don't like the after-effects either. I take a small tray from under the sink and place the glasses on it, almost as if I'm a barmaid. I'm just setting the glasses down in front of the men when there's another knock at the door and I inwardly sigh with relief. My anxiety, over that particular issue anyway, is relieved.
"Is that Firewhisky I see?" Marcus says loudly as he follows Blaise into the room. "Get me some of that, wench."
My stomach churns with hatred for him, but I do as he says. He's not worth what Blaise would do to me if I retaliated.
"Play nicely," Blaise says, though he smirks at his friend. I glance at Draco as I hand Marcus his drink, and he's smirking too. Theo isn't though. He's completely blank. "I'm starving. Where's the food?"
"It's coming," I say, attempting to keep the terseness out of my voice. I take the dishes and hand them out, serving Blaise first and placing mine down last. I sit down, opposite Blaise, and realise too late that I've forgotten to get myself a drink. I can't get up now, though. I'll just have to put up with it. "Please, enjoy."
Taking my cue, everyone begins to eat. Initial impressions are somewhat positive; Theo and Blaise like it, Draco, as always, is indifferent, while Marcus doesn't say a word. That probably means he likes it but he's too proud to admit it.
"So, how are you finding being an Auror?" Blaise says to Draco. My interest perks up as I know he works alongside Harry and Ron, who I don't get to see any more and barely hear anything from. "Don't have to work with the Potter brat, do you?"
Draco laughs and I roll my eyes. It goes unnoticed.
"He's not that bad—" Theo chimes in, though he's interrupted by Draco talking over him. Theo glances at me and provides a weak smile, which I return.
"Well, I can't exactly avoid either of them, put it that way. But he's not my partner, thankfully. Potter seems to think he knows how the department is best run, and that bastard Kingsley is drinking it all in." Draco takes a large sip of his Firewhisky, while I angrily cut up my food. "Just because he killed the Dark Lord he thinks he knows everything."
"He's always thought he's known everything," Marcus says spitefully.
"No," Blaise corrects him, "I think you'll find that was her." He points at me, and I feel their gazes on me once more as I focus on my food. "Until I showed her just how little she really does know, of course."
I can't help but blush as they laugh, though I notice Theo's fingers gesturing to me slightly and take comfort in the fact that he isn't. Even more so when he quickly changes the subject.
"And you, Blaise?" Theo asks. "How is your business doing?"
Blaise purses his lips slightly and his eyes narrow. "Fine, thank you."
It isn't, though. I know full well, as much as Blaise has tried to hide it from me, that his business isn't doing so well. After struggling to get a Ministry job as desired (he doesn't have the connections nor the Galleons the Malfoys have), he settled for creating his own business selling Quidditch supplies. Except, it seems that people aren't that keen to buy from someone with such a murky past. No, Blaise was never a Death Eater, but it's always been quite clear where his loyalties lie. I think he thought marrying me would help his standing, god knows he charmed me enough, but it didn't.
Yes, that's correct. Blaise was charming, once. Well, he can be when he wants to be anyway. Otherwise I'd never have married him, would I? It all changed after we married, though. He carefully pulled apart all my friendships until I suddenly found myself all alone, and his suggestion that I give up work, while I argued it at first, was agreed to once he showed me his true colours.
"I heard your new shop girl is something to be admired," Marcus says smarmily. He's smirking, and looking from Blaise to me, but I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing I'm concerned about his statement. Quite honestly, I hadn't even known Blaise had a new employee.
"Oh yes," Draco agrees. "That she is. But don't tell Pansy; she'll never let me come back!"
Blaise laughs. "Well, of course nobody is as beautiful as my lovely wife," he says, turning and smiling at me. For once I actually feel like maybe he won't undermine or humiliate me. Until I hear his next sentence. "But yes. She's extremely attractive. She's got lovely eyes."
The boys laugh as Blaise smirks, and it's pretty obvious what he means. Despite the fact that I don't love him, I care if he decides to make a move on someone else. It would just be far too much for me to bear, and word would get around faster than I could possibly imagine. I make a note to keep an eye on that.
"Set your sights on anyone yet, Theo?" Draco asks, staring pointedly at his friend.
"No," Theo admits.
"He's far too picky, that's his problem," Marcus quips. "There was 'nowt wrong with that last witch."
"Except for the fact that she couldn't put two and two together, you mean?" Theo sighs, and I see his fingers tense on his cutlery.
"Who cares if they're intelligent?" Marcus looks aghast at this suggestion. "In fact, it's better if they're not. Look at all the trouble Blaise has had with her." Marcus smiles cruelly at me and I return it in kind. I get a warning look from Blaise, but my patience is fast wearing thin. "She's docile now, but we all know why."
I don't like that. I don't like to think that they all know why I'm not the fiery Gryffindor I once was. I drop my gaze and find my food more fascinating than I should, relieved when Theo sends the conversation in a different direction. I tune everything out until it's time for pudding, mutely clearing the table and making sure to keep my eyes away from anyone else's. I don't know if they're all staring at me, but it certainly feels like it.
"What's for afters?" Blaise's voice calls through to the kitchen as I get out the smaller plates.
"I made a chocolate gateau," I say quietly, cutting the cake into five pieces. I hand them out and then grab the Firewhisky, offering a top up to those who want it. All the men accept one, and I take this opportunity to fetch my own drink before sitting down. I'm parched, and end up drinking nearly half the glass before I even start on my cake. I receive a curious look from Blaise, but I simply smile politely, as if there's nothing odd about what I've done. There isn't, really. Nothing sinister about it, anyway.
"Pansy seems to be on a one-woman crusade to take over my life," Draco says. He always starts to moan about his wife after he's had a drink or two.
Blaise laughs. "She is your wife!"
"Perhaps, but she seems to be clingier now than she ever has been before. She won't leave me alone."
"She thinks you're cheating," Marcus says quickly, and very matter-of-factly. "That's always the way when they suspect something. They stick to you like glue, so you don't have chance to cheat. Or as a way for them to see if you are cheating."
"I'm not cheating," Draco says firmly. He seems offended by the insinuation that he would, but I wouldn't put it past him. Slytherins have no morals, I'm sure.
Marcus shrugs. "Doesn't stop her thinking you are, though."
"Hmm." Draco doesn't seem convinced. He pushes his cake around more than eats it, but everyone else seems to like it, so he could just not be hungry. "The thing is, the clingier she gets, the more I want to pull away. I need the space. If she hadn't already had plans tonight, I'm sure she would have insisted on coming."
"Why doesn't she ever come?" The words are out of my mouth before I realise what I've said, and the entire table looks at me in stunned silence. Draco in particular looks surprised that I've questioned him. He likes to ignore me as much as possible, and that's usually fine by me, but now I've asked him a direct question, he doesn't seem as if he knows what to do. Mind, I have always wondered why he never brings his wife along. Theo and Marcus are both single, and never stay with a witch long enough to be invited, but Draco's been married to Pansy before Blaise and I even got together.
Finally collecting himself, Draco narrows his eyes at me. "None of your business," he says, then turns away from me to pretend I'm not there once more. Theo looks away too, but Marcus stays smirking at me, and Blaise's face is one of thunder. No doubt he'll try to say I was insulting his friends with that remark later.
"So," Blaise says loudly. "Are you all up for the poker game next Saturday?"
Ahh, the poker game. Of course. They do it every month, and it's a nightmare for me each time. At least when he invites them over for dinner I'm included, but with his poker games I'm just an extra. I play the part of waitress, as Blaise demands. Couldn't expect them to get up and get their own snacks, could I?
"Of course," Theo says, his face lighting up. He loves poker. He's the best at it, to be truthful, but I can't exactly tell Blaise that. He likes to think he's got the game sussed, but really, he's just arrogant. "Usual crowd?"
Blaise nods. "Yeah. Pike and Harper have already told me they're coming." He looks at the others expectantly. "Marcus? Draco?"
"I'll be there," Draco says as he finishes eating. I can see that not even half of the cake is gone, but he obviously doesn't care about offending me.
"And me." Marcus puts down his knife and fork too, but he's actually finished the cake, as Blaise and Theo are close to doing. It must just be Draco who doesn't like it.
I stand and clear the plates away when everyone's finished, ignoring the conversation about Quidditch. They all support different teams so there's banter every time they get together. Knowing that their next move will be to retire to the parlour, I make up some more drinks and place them on a tray, taking them through as the men follow swiftly behind me. Thankfully, I'm out of the limelight now. They'll sit in the other room and discuss Quidditch, women and politics while I clean and do the washing up. It's the best part of the night, quite honestly. It's after I'm forced to interact with them at the dinner table but before they leave and Blaise chastises me for all my 'mistakes'.
I set my wand to spell the washing up into doing itself, then curl up in the armchair in the corner of the kitchen with a good book. I don't get many chances to read these days and so when I do, it truly is my sanctuary like it never has been before. I can get lost in the characters and pretend, if only for the time that I'm reading, that I'm not stuck in a love-less marriage with a man who hits me.
I get so lost in my latest book that I don't even realise Blaise has walked into the room. He clears his throat loudly, and I reluctantly drag my attentions to focus on him. "Have they gone?" I ask, not having heard the door go at all.
"Yes," Blaise says quietly, eyeing me suspiciously. I don't know what's going on in that head of his, but I'm not sure I really want to find out. "Your behaviour tonight..." He falters, and I worry about what that could mean for me. I bite my lip in anticipation, worrying about what's going to come next. "It was good. Even the boys thought so."
Oh? I hadn't expected that response at all. He thought I was well behaved? And the others did too? I don't know what to say, so I just smile weakly. Then a blush creeps onto my cheeks as I realise how humiliating it feels to realise they were talking about my behaviour as though I were a trained, prized pet.
"They thought you looked beautiful, too."
"The outfit was a good choice," I say almost autonomously. I know it's the reply he wanted, since he was the one to choose my attire. He'd think me ungrateful otherwise, and I don't want to spoil what's turning out to be a relatively calm night.
"It's late," Blaise remarks, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks slightly inebriated, so I know I'll need to make sure there's an appropriate potion on his bedside table tomorrow morning. "I've got a business meeting first thing so I'm going to get an early night. You finish clearing up and then join me. Okay?"
I nod and he walks out, his feet thudding quietly up the stairs. I can't help but smile; he doesn't want relations tonight and I've basically been given a free pass to stay up as long as I want. He did say to join him after clearing up, but he falls asleep rather quickly and won't have a clue what time it is when I do get into bed. That's if he even wakes at all; a lot of the time he doesn't. I need to clear up first though, because if he does wake and comes down to see me, I can say I'm just finishing up.
It doesn't take long for me to clean up the remainder of the dining room and kitchen, and with the washing up, that's those adjoining rooms done. I walk into the parlour, relieved to see that apart from a few glasses, it's pretty much as clean as when I left it. I check the coffee table to make sure there are no stains, but it seems like everyone has used the provided coasters today. Great! The only thing left to do now is take out the rubbish, then I can finally settle down with my book again. It's nearing midnight, so I should get a good hours read at least.
I place my wand on the kitchen counter and take out the rubbish, quietly opening the door. I close it behind me and make my way down the garden path, placing the rubbish in the bin at the end. The bin men are coming round tomorrow so I make sure to wheel it onto the streets for them. With a quick look at the gorgeous night sky and a heavy sigh, I make my way back to the house, but as soon as I'm three or four steps away, a hand clamps around my throat and pulls me behind the bush by the door. I knew there was a reason I wanted rid of the damn thing.
"Ssh!" The voice behind me says, and I'm just thinking about the audacity of such a request when I realise exactly who the voice belongs to.
"Theo?" I manage to mumble through his hand.
"Yeah, it's me. Will you be quiet?"
I nod tentatively and whirl around, facing him with anger when he lets me go. "What on earth are you doing?!"
"I know what's going on, you know," Theo says with a resounding sigh. "We all do."
"So?" I challenge him, narrowing my eyes. I don't like people interfering in my business and talking about me, especially when there's nothing they can do to stop it.
"I... I can help you."
I raise a disbelieving eyebrow.
"Blaise is one of your best friends," I say matter-of-factly. "There's nothing you can do without betraying him."
"Then I'll betray him." Theo sinks into a comfortable position on the grass, leaning against the house, and I follow suit by kneeling down in front of him. He looks serious, but I don't want to get my hopes up if he's going to bottle it at a later time. "What he's doing... it's not right. I can't let it go on any longer."
"Blaise and I have been married for two years. Why step in now?" I know I should be grateful, but I'm a little irritated that it took him so long to decide he needs to do something.
"I know, I'm sorry. But I didn't want to believe it at first, and then I called round the other day... Well, I was going to, but I saw what he did to you through the window and legged it. I've not been able to sleep properly since."
I look at the floor awkwardly, rather embarrassed. I know I shouldn't be, that it's not my fault, but I can't help it. "I don't think there's anything to be done anyway."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it?" I quirk an eyebrow.
"What about your friends? Harry, Ron?"
I shake my head sadly. "I haven't spoken to them since a month or so after we got married. I wouldn't even know how to contact them."
"Still, I think they'd want to help if they thought you were in trouble. I could contact them for you?"
"And then what?" I know I'm being pessimistic, but I've long since believed there's no way out of this situation for me. To think otherwise is hard, and I don't want to be getting my hopes up only to be let down.
Theo shrugged. "When does Blaise work?"
"Every day, but only a half-day on Sunday."
"Times?"
"He leaves here about 8:45 A.M. every morning and returns just after 5:00 P.M. usually. Why?"
"Look," Theo says quietly, looking around anxiously to make sure Blaise isn't anywhere about. "What if I get hold of them—I work at the Ministry, after all—and let them know what's going on? I'm sure they'd be rushing round to help, and if they know when Blaise isn't here, they can help you leave, give you somewhere safe to stay. Pack a few things and hide them away somewhere. When they come, you can easily leave."
"I don't know..." I start, but Theo places a reassuring hand upon my knee and just for a second, I believe it might work. I feel a little sick, both from the excitement and anxiety. I'm also slightly worried this might be a trick of Blaise's, to see if I would leave if I had the chance. But Theo seems so genuine, and we've gotten along before... "I suppose I don't have much to lose," I say after a few moments thought.
Theo smiles briefly and gets up onto his haunches. "Look, I'd better go, but remember what I've said. Once Ron and Harry take you away from here, you're safe. Don't refuse to go because you're scared, okay?"
I nod, but I can't promise anything. I can just imagine how Blaise will react if I'm not there when he returns one day. He won't leave me alone, I know it. He's said as much to me himself. I'll never be free of him and he'll never stop looking for me. It's not as if they'd put Blaise in Azkaban, is it? He's not exactly a Death Eater... "Thanks, Theo," I say quietly as he gets up to leave. He gives me a polite nod, walks a few steps down the street and then Disapparates. I take a few moments to collect myself and digest what just happened.
Theo just offered me a way out. Will it happen? If it does, can I take it? I try to think how it'll be seeing Harry and Ron after all this time, and whether or not they'll hate me as much as I think they will. Maybe they hate me so much that they won't even come. I sigh heavily and go back inside. I don't want to read any more. I don't think I could focus even if I wanted to.
It's going to be hard enough getting to sleep.
[♥]
It seems Theo's way out was a trick, after all. It's been a week and a day since the dinner party and he didn't even turn up to Blaise's poker game. I'm confused as to why Blaise hasn't confronted me about it, though. Perhaps he's biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to throw it upon me and punish me. Quite frankly, it's putting me on edge. I wish he'd just hurry up and get it over with so I don't have to walk on eggshells any more.
I grab my wand and head out into the garden, determined to rid the weeds from my beautiful flowerbeds. As much as I love my flowers, the constant maintenance, even with my wand, can be tiring at times. Blaise especially doesn't like it if they're not perfect all the time. Honestly, I think it's his whining that's put me off my garden.
I move the doormat in front of the first section of garden and kneel down on it, frowning at the weeds that have grown in between my tulips. I can tell the slugs have been at them too. I bring my wand up to sort out the problem, but as I do, I hear a small hiss from somewhere. I stop, wand in the air, and turn around to see if there's anyone about, but the place looks deserted. I shrug, deciding I must have been hearing things and go back to my task. I've only got rid of one blasted weed when I hear the same noise again, and this time when I turn around, I see a lock of flaming red hair.
Could it be? I daren't hope, but I'm ready to tell myself not to be so ridiculous. I stand and follow the hair, and when I enter the street, the hair turns the corner. I quickly lock my door and walk, almost run, down the street. I turn the corner too, and my hopes were right... it's Ron. And Harry's beside him. I can hardly believe it. I don't know what to say, and by the looks of it, neither do they. I have to smile when Ron finally comes out with something, though.
"What did you get Harry and me for Christmas in 1995?"
I don't even have to think about my answer, I remember what I bought them and how disappointed they both were. "A homework planner." They seem relieved, and I know I should ask one too, but I'm just so relieved myself and it's clearly them.
"Hermione!" Ron cries, and they both rush at me straight away, giving me a massive hug. It's so much more than I could have hoped for and I never believed this would be their reaction upon seeing me again. "It's true... what Nott said?"
I nod as they pull away. I don't know exactly what Theo said, but it's likely true.
"He said you had stuff packed. Could you go and get it?" Harry asks tentatively. They're clearly using their Auror training techniques on me. Delicately, as though they don't want to scare me away. "We'll wait here. Lock the door after you."
I quickly do as he says, afraid in case Blaise decides to come home at lunchtime for the first time ever. I grab the small bag I packed in my bedside table and head back downstairs. I don't even give the house one last look round; it holds too many bad memories for me. I'm out of the door and locking it before I've even properly registered the situation.
"Good," Ron says, smiling at me. "That's good."
"You're safe now," Harry says gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We'll look after you."
I smile meekly, rather embarrassed at even being in this situation in the first place and requiring their help. They must have much more important matters to attend to than me, surely.
"One of us will Side-along Apparate with you. Who would you prefer?" Harry asks, looking around nervously as if he's worrying Blaise will pop along at any moment too.
"I don't mind." I really don't. I'm just relieved they're finally here, saving me. That I'm finally free of Blaise's grasp.
"Grab my arm," Ron volunteers, holding out his forearm for me. I take it, and as soon as I do, Ron Disapparates. He's clearly eager to leave. "Here, we're in the Ministry. Don't worry, it's Draco's day off today. Come on, our office is just down here..."
Harry arrives seconds after we do and I follow them down to their office. I think about how well they've done for themselves, how far they've come, and how I'm going to have to start all over again, right from scratch. I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do with myself. I'm lost. I don't even know if I know myself any more. With a heavy sigh, I sit down on the chair Ron offers me and instead of sitting on the other side of the desk, they bring their chairs round so they're next to me instead.
"Are you..." Harry starts, looking me over. Probably scanning to see if I have any visible bruises. "Are you okay?"
I nod. "I'm fine. Just relieved, taking it all in."
"If we'd have known..." Ron began. "We thought you didn't want anything to do with us any more, that you'd chosen Zabini over us."
"No," I say quietly, though I can see how it would have looked that way to them. "Blaise is a master manipulator..."
"Look," Harry says, and his voice is stern and firm now. He's acting more like an Auror than my friend now. "If you're willing to stand trial against him, he could go to Azkaban."
I shake my head sadly. "There's no point. There's no proof. I'd just be humiliated and he'd end up laughing his way out the courts."
"Actually," Ron says with a wan smile, reaching over the desk for a brown file and placing it in my lap. "We have photographic proof."
"How?" I open the file and pull out the contents. There must be fifty or more photos in here, clearly taken through a window. The photos show Blaise's angry face, first pushing me against a wall and then slapping me across the face. I feel sick as I look at the photos near the back, which are more graphic, and detail Blaise's fist in my stomach. All of a sudden it's too much and I push them back into the file quickly. I place it back on the table and lean back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest defensively.
"Theodore Nott took them." Harry eyes me cautiously, as if he's not sure how I'm going to react. "He's confirmed he'll testify if we need him to."
"I don't know..."
"We can try and be as discreet as possible. We'll put a blanket ban on the newspapers, refusing to let them report on the trial. If that's what you want."
"Where am I going to live?" I say suddenly, preferring to focus more on my current troubles than any that could be created by putting Blaise on trial. I wonder if he's realised I'm gone yet, but I glance at the clock and it's nowhere near the time he'd be finishing work. I've a few hours before the Howlers start, I'm sure. "What if Blaise comes after me?"
"He won't," Ron says firmly, looking at Harry briefly before turning back to me. "And you can live with us, at Grimmauld Place. It's no bother."
"Blaise definitely won't find you there," Harry says confidently. "Even if he guessed correctly at where you'd gone, he can't get near the place."
"Howlers..."
"Grimmauld's warded against them." Harry pats my knee softly, but removes his hand after a moment. I realise how much we're going to have to work on our relationship to get back to how comfortable we used to be. "Trust me, if you testify against him, Blaise will definitely go to Azkaban. And then you can build your life back as normal, without having to worry about bumping into him. If you don't, you might meet him out and about, and we can't guarantee we'll always be with you to look out for you."
"I don't need looking after," I reply sharply. "I've been married to him for years."
"We know..." Ron starts to play with the fabric of his robes, clearly anxious about something. "Hermione," he starts tentatively. "If you're going to testify, it'll be better soon rather than later. If you give us the go ahead, we can go and arrest Zabini at work right now. Once he finds you're gone, if he decides to scarper it'll be much harder to make sure he turns up for the trial."
I stand up, suddenly feeling light-headed and dizzy. "I need a minute," I mumble, stumbling out of the office and over to the window directly outside of it. I open it up for some air, taking in the summer smells and sounds. In the background, I can hear Ron and Harry arguing over whether Ron pushed me too hard too fast, but I just want to block everything out to be able to think properly for a moment. What Harry said is very true, and I really don't want to be bumping into him when I'm trying to get my life back on track. Plus, with him in Azkaban, it'll be much easier and quicker to get a divorce from him. But at the same time... how can I face him? What will he say when he sees me? What about his family, his friends? What will Malfoy say? But if I don't testify, I might not be the only woman Blaise ever hurts.
"Hermione?" I turn at Ron's small voice. He's stood in the doorway of his office, looking as though he thinks he'll break me if he comes any closer. I hate that. I can't wait until they're treating me as normal once more, but I know it'll take time.
"I'll do it," I say quickly, before I can back out. "I'll testify. But I want that ban on the papers."
Both Ron and Harry give me a small smile, and Ron rushes off down the corridor. I don't feel any better or safer for agreeing to face my husband in court, but deep down I know it's the right thing to do. The only thing I could really do. I allow Harry to escort me back into the office and wait on tenterhooks for Ron and the rest of the Aurors to return and let me know how Blaise reacted. I know the trial will take months and my whole sorry affair will be dragged through the courts, but at the very least, the rest of the Wizarding world won't know why Blaise has been imprisoned. Only those who'll know the intimate details of our lives will be those in the courtrooms, and I realise with a sick, sinking feel that that will include Ron, Harry and Theo, and probably even Draco. He's bound to show up to support his best friend, after all.
For now, though, there's nothing I can do but sit and wait, agonising over my current situation. Everything may be up in the air right now, but the one thing I do know is that Blaise will never touch me again, and that thought makes me happier than I've been in a long time.
