Bound by Fate

Chapter 14: A New Strength

The days following Lucius Malfoy's death passed in a haze for Hermione. The overwhelming sense of relief mixed with the lingering pain of everything she had endured weighed heavily on her, but she was slowly starting to recover. Her body still felt weak, but it was no longer the frail, broken shell it had been. Each day, her strength grew, even if the emotional wounds remained raw and unhealed.

Krick, the house-elf, had been a constant presence by her side. The small, diligent creature brought her potions for her pain, nutritious food to help restore her strength, and hot tea to soothe her nerves. Krick didn't say much, and Hermione was grateful for that. The quiet care was exactly what she needed.

Draco kept his distance, although she sensed his presence in the manor at all times. He hadn't forced her into any more conversations, giving her space to recover on her own terms. But Hermione couldn't shake the memory of him holding her, helping her, in those moments when she had been at her most vulnerable. She didn't know how to feel about him—about his role in everything that had happened—but she couldn't deny that something had shifted between them. He had seen her broken, and yet he hadn't turned away.

One morning, Krick appeared in her room with a tray as usual, but there was something different this time. The elf's eyes were wide, and in addition to the usual tea and small vial of potions for her pain, there was a new vial—one that made Hermione's stomach twist the moment she saw it.

Krick approached the bed cautiously, setting the tray down on the bedside table before holding out the vial with trembling hands. "Miss Granger, Krick has brought a new potion," the elf said quietly, his voice tinged with nervousness. "It will... help you, if you are worried about... the possibility of Master Lucius'... child."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing as she stared at the vial. It was small and unassuming, a pale blue liquid swirling inside. But the sight of it sent a jolt of fear and pain through her chest, twisting in her gut like a knife.

For days, she had pushed that thought aside, refused to let her mind even go there. The idea that she might be carrying his child was too horrifying to confront. But now, with the potion in front of her, the reality of it hit her like a wave, knocking the air from her lungs.

Krick's large, round eyes watched her with concern, but he didn't say anything more. He simply set the potion on the bedside table, his hands shaking as he backed away, clearly sensing the weight of the moment.

Hermione sat up slowly, her body stiff as she reached out to pick up the vial. Her fingers trembled as she held it, the cold glass pressing into her palm. Her breath came in short, uneven gasps as the enormity of it all settled over her. She hadn't allowed herself to think about what Lucius had done to her—really think about it—until now.

She couldn't bring his child into the world. She couldn't live with that horror. The thought of it made her want to curl up and disappear, to never feel anything again. And yet, the mere fact that the possibility existed at all filled her with a deep, bone-chilling fear.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and before she knew it, they were streaming down her face, silent and steady. She curled into herself, holding the vial tightly against her chest as she sobbed. The weight of everything—the assault, the trauma, the unbearable thought of what might be—broke something inside her all over again.

Krick stepped back further, bowing his head as if in shame, but Hermione barely noticed. The sobs wracked through her, her body shaking as the grief and terror finally spilled out in full force. She hadn't wanted to confront this. She hadn't wanted to face the reality of what had been done to her.

But she couldn't hide from it any longer.

After what felt like an eternity, the sobs began to subside, and Hermione was left with a hollow, aching emptiness in her chest. She stared at the vial in her hand, her fingers gripping it tightly as she wiped her tears with the other hand.

As much as it hurt, as much as she hated everything about this situation, she knew what she had to do. She had survived Lucius. She had survived his cruelty, his violence, his attempt to break her. And she would survive this too.

She was stronger than him.

Hermione took a deep breath, her heart still pounding in her chest, but her mind was clearer now. Slowly, deliberately, she uncorked the vial, the sharp scent of the potion filling the air. She hesitated for only a moment, the fear still clawing at her insides. But then, with a determined resolve, she brought the vial to her lips.

The liquid was cool and smooth as it slid down her throat, leaving a faint aftertaste of mint. Hermione closed her eyes, gripping the vial tightly in her hand as she swallowed the last drop. It was done.

She exhaled slowly, a mixture of relief and sorrow washing over her. The fear that had gripped her so tightly began to loosen its hold, and though the pain was still there, still sharp and raw, she knew she had made the right choice.

Krick, who had been watching quietly from the side of the room, stepped forward hesitantly. "Miss Granger... is there anything else Krick can bring you?"

Hermione shook her head, her voice soft and hoarse from crying. "No, Krick. Thank you."

The house-elf gave her a small, solemn nod before disappearing with a quiet pop, leaving Hermione alone in the room.

For a long time, Hermione sat in silence, her mind still reeling from everything that had happened. But as the minutes passed, she began to feel something else—a quiet strength building inside her. She had done what she needed to do. She had taken control of her own body, her own future, and no one—not even Lucius—could take that away from her.

She wasn't fully healed. She wasn't sure when, or if, she ever would be. But she was stronger now, stronger than she had been. And that was enough.

For now.