Paramour

Chapter 5

Hermione groaned as she awoke, her eyes still puffy and sore from the previous night of crying, as she stretched and stared around her room — Harry. Harry must have carried her to bed. She smiled softly.

As Hermione sat up, craning her neck from side to side, she faintly tasted the foul and unmistakable taste of 'Skele-Gro' on her tongue. Harry must have not had the time, nor the knowledge, to repair the fractures in her knees, so opted for 'Skele-Gro' and had hoped for the best; she would have to find Poppy to cast a diagnostic on her later.

Snapping from her thoughts and back to her legs, Hermione grimaced and remembered how she had fallen onto them the night prior. She pulled back the covers and inspected her knees; they were a striking array of purple and blue and she winced at the thought of standing up.

Turning her head, she gaped at the clock on her dresser — five PM. She had slept for over twelve hours.

She gasped and jumped to her feet, ignoring the visceral pain shooting up and down her legs. She quickly dressed and neatened her curls before heading towards her bedroom door.

Hermione reached for the doorknob and hesitated, gnawing at her bottom lip. She couldn't leave her room. If she left, she was afraid she'd reveal her secret meeting to any person she may see and they wouldn't even need to probe her — she wanted to tell someone, she needed to tell someone, but she couldn't.

Withdrawing her hand from the doorknob, Hermione shuffled back to her bed and sunk onto it, sighing heavily as she stared up at the ceiling. She had never felt so alone.

***

Hermione remained stubborn and spent the remainder of the evening in her bedroom, minus a brief visit to Poppy, who had quickly rectified her fractured knees and mumbled disparaging words regarding The Order's shocking lack of basic medical training and healing knowledge.

She had returned to her room quickly after, petrified she would be faced by an Order member and would crumble, begging them to keep her safe and away from The Marquis.

So she stayed quiet and small. She didn't eat. She didn't speak. And eventually dosed herself with Dreamless Sleep at midnight, before reluctantly laying her head down and fluttering her eyes closed.

***

She was awoken to an orb of light floating above her — Kingsley's lynx.

Hermione groaned and rolled off her mattress, standing up and turning to the lynx, who had slowly floated in front of her.

"I'll be five minutes, promise." She said and watched as the lynx bounced through her bedroom door.

She jumped into her jeans and quickly pulled back her curls, poking the loose strands with pins in an attempt to tame her disastrously frizzy mane.

Hermione paused for a moment and leant forward, her hands gripping onto her desk chair as she stared out of her bedroom window. The sun was steadily rising, its orange light cascading warmth across London's skyline. She inhaled deeply and stifled a desperate sob that had began to bubble in her chest — she had forgotten, until now.

Kingsley's lynx hadn't even been enough to remind her as to why she was up so early, as thoughts of The Marquis had been shoved away the prior night, particularly following her dose of 'Dreamless Sleep'. But the quiet of the current moment had sent them violently crashing back, stabbing through Hermione's mind like a cutlass.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

Steadying herself, Hermione quietly exited her bedroom and withdrew her wand. She gave a subtle flick and a dim amber illuminated at the tip of it, providing her with just enough light to navigate the multiple sets of stairs ahead.