Project 137.43.M.D.

XXXVIII. | EX TUNC

XXXVIII.
EX TUNC
(from the outset)

First, Harry removed the Glamour Charm from Malfoy's arm.

Hermione involuntarily flinched as the Dark Mark that the permanent Charm had been successfully hiding all along became visible. It seemed out of place on him and the sight gave her a pang of pain, though of course it was Doxy Dung. She had always known that Malfoy had been made a Death Eater. In addition, the sight was actually not unfamiliar. Too many witches and wizards had born the Mark at the time Hermione was reluctant to look back on.

Harry untied the magical bindings and Malfoy's body relaxed. He was still stunned, so he slowly slumped in his chair and eventually his chin sank onto his chest. Hermione had to swallow again. Everything in her screamed to just rush over to him and brush his hair off his forehead, but that wasn't an option.

"Rennervate," Harry finally murmured, and she tensed.

Malfoy opened his gray eyes. There was silence and for a few grateful seconds he just stared into space, apparently disoriented and confused.

Then it started.

Malfoy toppled out of his chair with a jerk and dropped to his knees in front of them. He pressed his hands to the cold stone floor for support, and Hermione almost feared he would vomit or faint. But all he did was breathe. He sucked in the air frantically, only to exhale it convulsively again. In, out, in, out, in, out.

She wondered feverishly if his reaction was due to the storm of memories that had just hit him, and the mere thought gave her goosebumps.

Hermione didn't know what Malfoy had experienced in Azkaban, or what had happened to him at all since she had last faced him at Hogwarts. Of course, she also hadn't the faintest idea how he had fared before the Final Battle – during Voldemort's reign of terror. Or how it had been for him, for example, when he had been entrusted with the task of killing Dumbledore.

However, his current physical reaction made her think for the first time that what they were doing right here and now was, in fact, the real punishment. Being locked up in Azkaban seemed ridiculous compared to what Malfoy was probably going through right now. Especially since the Substitute had been left in his head. Basically, it was disgusting, Hermione realized that now, and it inevitably brought tears to her eyes again. The Substitute had given him a glimpse of what his life might have looked like if things had turned out differently. Admittedly, the accident version wasn't a particularly attractive alternative either, but still: a graduation, a comparatively normal life, a successful Quidditch career. It had to be incredibly cruel to learn in this way that these memories had all been just fragments of a vast web of lies.

And she had played along. She had been part of it.

Her knees began to tremble and now she felt like throwing up herself. Harry's hand was suddenly on her upper arm because he had noticed what was going on inside her. Of course he had. Panting, she clung to her friend and looked up at him. Unsurprisingly, her own horror was reflected in his bright green eyes. Harry, too, had apparently realized what kind of torture they had voluntarily participated in.

She took a deep breath and finally pulled away from him to slowly take a few steps towards Malfoy. Had she been asked to define the allegory of a broken man, Hermione would have described exactly that situation, because Draco Malfoy was undeniably broken...

She reached out and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Dr-Malfoy?" she whispered, and he immediately flinched from her.

He lifted his head and, without further warning, locked eyes with her firmly. Hermione froze. For a few seconds they just stared at each other. She felt a lonely tear slide down her cheek but resisted the urge to brush it away. She didn't want to hide from him how terrible she felt right now.