Silver Chains

Chapter Seven

Theo

"That was actually really good, Granger. Considering it's only been a couple weeks since you got stitched up, and you've never done any boxing. You need to go easy for the next few weeks, but come mid-January, you'll be learning in an actual ring," I say, handing her a bottle of water from the gym's fridge. She's panting, and I keep eyeing her shirt, afraid that her stitches may have come undone.

"I'm okay, Theo, look," she pulls up her tank top slightly, showing me the angry colored skin. The scar is forming, and the stitches probably need to be taken out soon.

"Remind me to call the Doc and have her come remove those next week."

She gulps down half the bottle of water before answering with a small smile, "I honestly never thought I'd have another Christmas to celebrate."

Motioning for her to join me on the mats for stretching, I start showing her the poses.

"When was the last time you celebrated?"

"Nine years ago, if you can even call it a celebration. It was right before Ron-" she clears her throat, looking away.

"How did you find out?"

"I'm the one who found him, he was in his apartment that he'd been renting in downtown London. Not far from here, actually. I realized too late that he was using, and when I went to confront him about it... yeah."

"How did you realize that was what was going on?"

She sighs, "We'd been seeing eachother again, after taking a break. But the pharmacist accidentally mentioned a prescription for him when I was picking medication up. It was for an injury that he had suffered during a car crash a few years prior, something that had healed and been taken care of. Opioids. Once I put two and two together, plus how depressed he had seemed at The Burrow a couple months before at Christmas and how his mood had seemed to become better... It was too late. I was too late."

I watch her quietly, curious if she will share anything else, but instead she just asks to move onto more stretches. Even though I'm used to being around death and violence, I still am always struck dumb when grief is brought up. So all I do is stupidly apologize to her.

To my surprise, she snorts, "I've never figured out how to respond to people who say they're sorry for my loss."

"Why?"

We finish stretching before she answers the question, turning to me at the door as we exit the gym.

"I guess, in a way, I had already been grieving for so long due to the Battle that when I lost Ron, it was just something I had expected to eventually happen. Everything I love has the tendency to be taken away from me, and I was angry at him for leaving his family behind."

"Were you angry about him leaving you?"

"No, because I think I left him first when I changed. I couldn't be the girl he originally loved. If anything, I feel guilty for not being able to save him."

"That wasn't your responsibility," I counter, holding the stairwell door open for her.

She shrugs, climbing the steps slowly, "Maybe not."

We're silent for the rest of the climb, and as much as I want to push the subject and ask if she's okay, Draco has taught me that sometimes it's best just to be present and silent. It makes me think back to leading her out of the mansion a couple weeks ago. I had no clue at the time that she would be like this, this woman who constantly fought to keep herself hidden, even in a den of snakes who could see right through her. Because we're all the same.

"Teach me how to make one of those smoothies Malfoy always makes," she pushes through the door to my floor of the penthouse. I don't miss the little smirk she had when the scanner lit up green under her hand.

Draco had relented and given her access to many of the scanners, keeping the rest locked. She now has access to most of the floors, excluding his office floor, the garage and the den. Few rooms are off limits, mainly the ones with security and weapons.

Following her to the kitchen, I laugh, "Fine. But only if you eat something else. Now that you want to start working out, you need to really focus on gaining your weight back, plus more. It'll help you heal and get stronger."

She scoffs but nods and pulls eggs out from the fridge.

Thirty minutes later, I'm leaning on the bar countertop, laughing at something she said, "You know, if you keep making jokes like that, Blaise is going to fight you because he won't be the funny one anymore."

"Blaise isn't even that funny," she snorts.

"Don't let him hear you say that. Better yet, don't let Daphne hear that, Granger."

She's quiet for a moment, toying with the rim of the smoothie glass in front of her. I worry I might have said the wrong thing and run a mental checklist over the last five minutes of conversation. She interrupts the train of thought by clearing her throat, "Theo, you can call me 'Mione if you want."

"What?"

"It's what my friends used to call me. Not Harry and Ron, but when I was a kid."

I'm taken aback, but I grin anyway, "Are you asking me to be your friend, Granger?"

"As long as you wipe that stupid grin off your face," she laughs. "I haven't had friends in a long time Theo, and I might be bad at it at first, but I'd like to try."

I can't help it, before I can stop myself, I lean over and give her a giant bear hug. She squeals, trying to push out of my arms, but I just tighten my grip.

"Eh, compared to the rest of the idiots in this house, you'll be a great friend no matter what, 'Mione."

"I have an idea," I announce, plopping onto one of the chairs situated in front of Draco's enormous wood desk. He ignores me, his eyes focused on the screen in front of him and his long fingers making the keys clack on his keyboard. "Okay, I'm going to tell you anyway. It's 'Mione's first Christmas in a long time next week. I was originally planning that we all could decorate, but I think it would be better if it's just you and her."

One blonde eyebrow quirks up, but he still doesn't look towards me.

"Hear me out, the family goes out one night and the two of you get the house to yourself so that you can maybe be nice and cook her dinner, and then decorate. What do you think?"

He finally peels his eyes away from the screen, a frown marring his face, "What did you call her?"

"'Mione," I say cheerfully, my smile irking him even more.

"Why?"

"She asked me to be friends."

"She did what?"

"You heard me. Anyways, how does Friday night sound? It'll give you a day to get used to the idea of being nice."

My brother scowls at me some more before leaning back in his chair, steepling his fingers, "Why are you so hell bent on us spending time together? I don't like her. The only reason she's here is because you brought her here. Can't you babysit her?"

I hum, "No. One, because I know that's a lie and two, because this is important to her."

"It's not a lie," he grits out, and I know I'm correct because his jaw ticks angrily.

"Sure, keep telling yourself that. Friday it is." I rise before he can say anything else and make my way to the door. As it closes behind me, I hear his grumbled curse and laugh.

The plan is motion, and I'll be damned if I'm not right in my assumptions.