**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter the amazingly talented JK Rowling does…I just enjoy playing with her characters.

**I apologize for the lateness on this chapter, I've been taking care of a teething six-month-old and it's been exhausting. Thank you for your patience!

**As my usual Beta has taken some much deserved time off, I've started working with a great new Alpha, MrsRen, and want to thank her for everything she helped with in this chapter!

**Normally, I only leave a warning at the beginning of my stories, but due to the content of this chapter, I feel obliged to inform you that this will contain a brief but graphic scene of M/M non-con.

**Please don't forget to review!

Chapter 3:

Dinner was a fairly silent ordeal as the tension in the house was palpable. It was obvious by Harry's unexpected silence that he'd witnessed some part of Draco and Hermione's interaction and clearly didn't approve.

So, as soon as Draco finished his portion of dinner, he excused himself from the table. Hermione made to immediately follow when Harry suddenly reached out and grasped her hand.

"Can we talk for a minute?" he inquired with an unreadable expression. Swallowing thickly, Hermione resumed her seat and anxiously waited for him to start, wondering all the while if it had anything to do with who she regularly shared a bed with. However, both of them were so busy trying to think about what to say that neither realized Draco hadn't slipped upstairs but stood just outside the door, eavesdropping.

"What's going on between you and Malfoy?" Harry questioned, cutting right to the point and confirming Hermione's fears.

"Noth…"

"Don't you dare tell me it's nothing" he abruptly cut her off with anger lacing his tone. "I saw the two of you together. Well, to be honest, I've noticed things changing between the two of you for the last few weeks, but today…" he shook his head and exhaled sharply.

"Harry, I swear Draco and I are just friends…"

"Bullshit, Hermione, I saw everything…" Harry exclaimed in a strained voice, unknowingly causing Draco's brows to furrow as he leaned gently on the doorframe. "I was on my way down the steps when I heard you crying out, but Malfoy reached you before I could. Initially, I thought he was just helping you through it because it was obvious by your panic that you weren't fully awake. But instead of laying you down on the couch after you fell back asleep, he cradled you in his arms and stayed with you. Not to mention the way in which he held you…"

"You're reading too much into things, Harry," Hermione insisted as she tried to stamp down the fluttering of her heart. A light blush stole over Draco's cheeks as he thought about the tender kiss he'd pressed to her brow and how he would explain it if Potter brought it up.

"Am I?"

"Yes, he was just being there for me, the same as I've been there for him. That's all…" Harry wasn't certain who she was trying to convince more, herself or him.

"Hermione, you're my best friend…my sister in every way that matters, please stop talking to me as if I'm stupid," he commanded as he held her wide brown gaze. "You think I don't know where you've slept nearly every night for the last two weeks?" her mouth fell open in shock as Harry sighed. "Look, I don't care if the two of you are in a relationship…or if you're just sleeping together to help drive away the nightmares, I just wish you wouldn't lie to me. It's not like it's against the rules of your advocacy. If the two of you want to be together then fine…but don't hide it from me."

"I know it's not against the rules, Harry, but I swear to you that I'm telling the truth. Draco and I are not together," her voice cracked a little as her stomach twisted. "We're friends…"

"Who have sex," he finished for her while shaking his head in disapproval.

"No," she ground out. "When we're in bed together all we do is hold each other. Similar to how you and I shared a bed all of last year. It helps keep the night terrors away," she insisted as Draco clenched his jaw. He didn't like imagining Potter holding her late into the night, curled around her curves as she unconsciously nuzzled his chest. Shaking the possessive thought from his mind, he waited irritably for one of them to continue.

Harry sat in silence for a long minute as he studied Hermione's imploring eyes and fidgeting fingers before finally realizing what she was trying to hide. "He doesn't know does he?" he queried in a steady voice.

"What? Of course, he knows that he's helping drive away my nightmares…just like I'm helping…"

"That's not what I meant," he interrupted her, knowing if she had her way that he'd never get to the truth. "Obviously, he's aware that you're helping one another, but he has no idea you want more than that."

Draco's heart seemed to hammer in his chest as he waited with bated breath and pressed himself as close as he dared to the door, listening intently for her response. He was certain she would laugh or dismiss the accusation altogether, promising their interactions were nothing more than that of friendship.

"I…"

"Don't deny it, 'Mione. You like Malfoy…really and truly like him. Don't you?" A red blush stole across her face as she averted her gaze from his knowing smile.

"Yes, fine, I admit it. I like Draco as more than a friend, I'm not sure when exactly it happened, but he's a good man and I can't help how I feel," she confessed before sighing and staring down at her fingertips. "It doesn't matter though; he doesn't feel that way about me."

"Oh, please with the way he looks at you, I highly doubt that."

"No, Harry," she shook her head and looked up at him, resigned to the truth she told herself every morning when she woke curled within his arms," he doesn't." Still unaware of Draco's lingering presence, she didn't hear his sharp intake of breath or see the perplexed expression etched over his face as he tried to process her declaration.

"I think you should talk to him and find out for certain before writing things off." Harry chuckled lightly before adding, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think the two of you would be good together."

"I can't do that," she claimed as her voice shook. "If I tell him how I feel and he doesn't feel the same, it could go one of two ways. Either things become awkward between us and what friendship we've established is ruined or he fears that because I'm his advocate if he doesn't return my affections I'll send him back into Azkaban, so he pretends to want me, making things strained and unbearable," she rushed out as tears burned her eyes.

"And what about if he does feel the same way?"

"He won't," Hermione muttered as a few tears slipped down her cheeks. "After everything he's been through, a relationship is the last thing on his mind…especially one with me."

"What does that mean?" Harry growled, hating how she seemed to demean herself while asking the same question Draco nearly pondered aloud.

"I'm a mess, Harry. I sneak dreamless sleep potions at night and calming draughts during the day because I know he's wrestling with his own demons and needs me to help him rather than add to his pain," she cried. "I meet with a mind healer at least twice a week and am still having recurring nightmares over being tortured for little more than an hour when others have had it way worse. I'm a rubbish cook, my hair is a disaster half the time, I'm overly argumentative, a know-it-all perfectionist who's driving him batty because I can't choose a damn house and…and…" she trailed off as tears slid uncontrollably down her cheeks.

"And you're a muggle-born," Harry finished for her, knowing exactly where she was headed when she started spewing a number of insults Malfoy had thrown at her over the course of their schooling.

Hermione burst into tears as she nodded and buried her face into her hands. Sighing in irritation, Harry stood and made his way around the table before pulling her into a hug. He held her as she cried and babbled on about how stupid she was for wanting a man who had spent years telling her how much he hated everything about her.

Of course, Hermione knew Draco was no longer the smug little prat who used to pick on her, and she'd meant it when she'd told him she forgave him. However, it was one thing to forgive someone for their ignorance and callousness as a child but another to want to explore a relationship with them. Especially when he hadn't fully figured out who he was anymore or what he believed.

"Hey, shh…Hermione, look at me," Harry insisted as her tears finally subsided. "You're not an idiot for desiring a man who's shown you nothing but kindness and respect since the day he moved in here. And if I recall correctly, Malfoy hasn't picked on you since fourth or…was it fifth year? Either way, it doesn't matter, because that version of him died in the war alongside the rest of our childhoods.

"So, stop beating yourself up for liking the man he's choosing to be and just take your time to see where this leads," he paused for a moment to tilt her head up so he could look purposefully into her eyes. "I know Malfoy and I haven't always gotten on, but I can see why you like him. And…well, if he doesn't return your affections then he's a bloody fool. I know I'm a bit biased, but you are truly one hell of a witch."

"Thanks, Harry," she chortled as she wiped her eyes. "I love you, and I know you mean well…but I don't think I'm gonna say anything just yet."

"Why not?" he asked wearily.

"Because Draco deserves a chance to figure out what he wants on his own. He's been controlled his entire life by his father, the pure-blood society rules, and Voldemort. I refuse to take advantage of my position and influence his choices or mold him into what I want," she explained as she pulled away from him and straightened up. Moving around the table, she gathered the dirty plates to wash while Harry contemplated what she'd said.

No matter how often Kreacher protested, Hermione regularly helped scrub the dishes by hand. Snatching up a dish towel to help her dry, Harry moved to her side and immediately set to work.

"Alright," he ascertained after a few minutes of silent work. "I understand why you don't want Malfoy to know, and I respect your choice, but just so you know I'm here for you no matter what. If things change and the two of you get together, I'll support you…might be a bit weird at first, him being my ex nemesis and all, but I'll still be here."

"Good to know," she replied with a smile. "Now, tell me about how things were today at the Ministry."

As Harry and Hermione began discussing the trial of Thorfinn Rowle, Draco quietly stepped away from the door and slowly made his way up to the shower. He didn't know what to think after hearing she wanted something more with him, but denied herself because she was afraid of taking advantage of their situation. He scoffed to himself as he ran shampoo through his hair. It was almost funny to think that after everything they'd been through in the last few years, she thought she would have a negative impact on him. Didn't she know she was the only good thing he had left in his life?

Hell, he could admit that he'd gladly be whatever she wanted if it meant getting to hold her every night within his arms. Pausing as he rinsed his hair, he realized that that was the line of thought she was afraid of exploiting. Hermione wanted him to have the chance to make decisions on his own, without her being a factor. To figure out who he was and if she was really what he wanted or just a convenience he'd become dependent on.

As he scrubbed his body, Draco realized he truly did need time to work through the trauma he'd survived before he would know who he'd become…let alone what he desired his life to be. Besides that, it seemed Hermione too needed time to heal before entering a relationship that wasn't borne from dependency.

If they were to ever take…whatever this was between them to the next level, they needed it to be equal give and take. They needed to know they were both there for one another for more than just the nightmares of war. Anything less would be a disservice to not only themselves but to each other.

Rinsing one last time and stepping from the shower, Draco exhaled slowly as he examined himself in the mirror. Over the past three weeks he'd gained back some of the weight he'd lost and his overall appearance seemed healthier, but the dark circles under his eyes were still as deep as before.

Unlike Hermione, he refused to depend on calming draughts or dreamless sleep potions as they were addictive and only worked for short periods of time. However, he knew his nightmares weren't getting any better. It had been a year and, if he were honest, some days they seemed to be getting worse. Having dried off and dressed in his pajamas, Draco made his way back into his room with a new sense of determination.

He refused to be a coward like his father and pretend nothing was wrong or that the punishments he'd endured were justified. After listening to Potter and Hermione talk, he knew he needed to start figuring out what he wanted from life. His mother had made it clear that she didn't want him to squander the chance he'd been given, so he knew what he had to do…no matter how uncomfortable it made him feel.

Nearly an hour later, Draco laid in bed replaying the overheard conversation, again and again, attempting to figure out a way to take back the things he'd done as a child. It was obvious by how Hermione had broken down, that his numerous taunts over the years had not only affected her then, but had caused irrevocable damage to her self-worth. Determining that it would take a while to fix the situation, he listened intently as the witch in question made her way up the stairs and into the shower.

Waiting for her to come to bed after hearing her confession made him both nervous and hopeful of what could be. He listened to the water turn off as he stared listlessly at the ceiling above him, idly counting the cracks in the paint until he finally heard his door click open.

She was dressed in her usual shorts and oversized tee, but tonight something felt different as she tiptoed to the edge of his bed, clearly under the impression that he was asleep. As she pulled back the bedspread and slipped in beside him, he rolled to his side and startled her.

"Godric, Draco, you scared me," she exclaimed a little breathlessly. "I thought you were asleep."

"Sorry," he murmured. Moonlight peered in between the curtains, illuminating the room just enough so he could make out the soft features of her face.

"Is everything alright?" she inquired as she noted something different in the way he looked at her.

"Yeah…I've just been thinking," he paused as his heart beat wildly in his chest. "Well, I've been considering what you suggested a couple of weeks ago…about seeing that mind healer you go to, or at least sitting in on one of your appointments to see if it's something that could help me."

"Really?" she questioned, surprised by his desire to seek professional counsel.

"Yeah. I've seen how you are after your sessions and they seem to be helping you," he explained, only slightly fudging the truth. "I've been battling my nightmares on my own for over a year and they don't seem to be improving. You've helped me a lot, but I-I can't live like this forever," his voice cracked slightly as he finally admitted that he needed assistance in order to recover.

"I completely understand," Hermione whispered softly as she watched a few tears slip from the corners of his eyes. Reaching out, she gently brushed them away before tenderly smiling up at him. "If you like, I can owl Healer Mathews in the morning…"

Rather than respond verbally, Draco simply nodded his head before wrapping an arm around her middle and drawing her closer. Every night they'd end up cuddled together, usually with her head on his chest as their arms wound around each other…and he refused for that night to be the exception.

XXX

At Draco's request, Hermione owl'd Healer Mathews the following morning and set up an appointment for him directly after her own on Monday. Together, they spent the majority of Saturday and Sunday viewing houses and debating whether or not she would increase her budget to find the home she so desired. Reluctantly, Hermione agreed to raise her purchase limit by another thirty thousand after the house agent swore that they'd looked at everything within reason which fulfilled her requirements.

Pleased with the new procurement parameters, their agent supplied Hermione with a relieved smile before promising to have another selection for them to view by the end of the week. She explained that she had a few unavoidable appointments to attend to through Thursday, but Draco presumed she planned to utilize her time in order to comb through every listing in Great Britain, magical and muggle alike. By the look of determination in the elder woman's eyes, he assumed that Hermione was considered a high priority client which the realtor refused to fail.

Once again, Draco offered to cover the difference as he would be residing with her for the foreseeable future but she refused to accept a single knut as long as she was his advocate. Recognizing her resolve, he dropped the subject before disapparating them back to Grimmauld Place to resume studying his advanced potions text.

Being the cunning Slytherin he'd been born and bred to be, Draco knew he couldn't suddenly begin complimenting Hermione without alerting her to the fact that he'd eavesdropped on her private conversation with Potter. So, in the days that followed, he took extra care in finding discreet ways to build up her self-worth.

While reading together on the couch or cuddling in bed, he would gently run his fingers through her hair before pulling her closer to discuss something interesting he'd learned or ask her opinion on the subject. Internally, he'd smirk at how flustered she'd become as he enjoyed the light pink tinge tinting her cheeks. When she would join him for breakfast, he'd allow her to catch sight of his lingering appraisal before averting his gaze to whichever Prophet article he'd been perusing. He hoped in time that she would see how his opinion of her had changed and realize that she was more than just the brains of the Golden Trio.

Before his initial appointment began, Draco sat in with Hermione to see how she interacted with their Healer. He situated himself on the other end of the couch and listened as she spoke about their days in between visits and the nightmares which continued to plague her. Admittedly, he was nervous about starting a conversation with the older gentleman settled on the leather-bound office chair across from them. Outside of Hermione and his mother, he had never voluntarily opened up to anyone before. He had been raised a stoic member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and brought up to believe that showing emotion gave one's enemies power over their person.

Almost as if reading the trepidation in his eyes at the conclusion of her hour, Hermione offered to stay with him if he preferred. The simple kindness she offered meant more to him than he let on, but there were things he needed to discuss with the Healer on his own. Horrors, beyond what he'd already divulged, of which he'd witnessed and endured that he never wished to share with her.

Clearing his throat, he thanked her before asking if she wouldn't mind waiting for him in the lobby. Understanding his wish for privacy, Hermione sent him an encouraging smile before gently grasping his hand for a brief moment and heading out into the waiting area. Draco watched her go as he held his breath and slowly exhaled as the warded door swung shut.

Turning his attention back to Healer Mathews, he admitted that he didn't know how to do this…that he knew he needed to be there in order to get better but that he wasn't sure how or where to begin. As it was his first appointment, he was informed that he had been allotted two hours and with only a few inquiring questions, Draco found himself divulging much of what he had experienced during the war.

He decided to start at the end of his fifth year and described his initiation into the Death Eaters as well as the revels he was forced to attend throughout the summer leading up to what was supposed to be his final year at Hogwarts. Pain radiated through his voice as he recalled the countless screams echoing throughout the manor of women and men alike being raped and tortured for information before their lifeless bodies were discarded like rubbish. The only silver lining he could find was that participation was never enforced, so after an hour or so of making an appearance, he was able to disappear into a darkened unused room and ward the area before drowning himself in a bottle or two of Firewhisky.

From there, Draco revealed the task he had been assigned shortly after watching Greyback mutilate a terrified muggle woman on his ballroom floor. The underlying threat that his mother would suffer a similar fate, should he fail, was crystal clear in the hissed words of the Dark Lord as the werewolf smirked at him with blood dribbling down his chin. Healer Mathews listened intently as he took notes and only spoke in an effort to clarify situations which were glossed over or that he sensed Draco holding back on.

When the young wizard expressed his failure to murder Albus Dumbledore, Mathews stopped him for the day. He noted that their time was nearly up and suggested that they meet three times a week for the summer and then, once school began, they'd scale back to twice a week. Nodding his head in agreement, Draco stood to leave before noticing the Healer holding a journal out towards him. The elder wizard explained that after he spelled it with a password the binding would only ever open for him.

Realizing the book was meant for him to write down his innermost thoughts and feelings, Draco scoffed at the idea and refused to accept it. Mathews simply smiled as he watched him leave and promised it would be there whenever he was ready. Growling out a goodbye, Draco left and met Hermione in the waiting area before quickly departing home where he spent the rest of the day holed up in the library, pretending to study with Crookshanks curled on his lap.

Though Hermione's appointments were scheduled for Monday's and Thursday's, she continued to accompany Draco and waited patiently for him in the lounge area on Wednesday's and Friday's. Prior to each session, she would gently squeeze his hand for a brief moment as her warm brown gaze held his weary grey, silently lending him her strength before settling on the sofa with a tome or newspaper.

The first week was the hardest for Draco as he disclosed the constant state of fear he lived in for two years, how he was forced to crucio individuals under the watchful gaze of the Dark Lord, and the moment when he thought all was lost as he lied to his aunt about recognizing Potter, Weasley, and Hermione. Healer Mathews seemed to understand that Draco needed someone to listen more than comment as he shared his experiences and therefore continued taking notes throughout their time.

During his third session, he confessed to having eavesdropped on Harry and Hermione's conversation and how his confusion over what he wanted out of life after suffering regularly through his nightmares brought him to where he was. Casually, he explained that though he understood Hermione's reasoning, he refused to depend on calming draughts or dreamless sleep potions to get him through the night. Happy to see the concerned look in the Healer's eyes for the brunette witch as he glanced up from his notes, Draco confided his fear of never being able to move past the war and finding peace within himself before finally falling silent.

Setting his parchment notes to the side, Healer Mathews folded his hands in his lap and gave Malfoy a small smile. He informed him that, though they had a long road ahead of them, he would help him find peace as they worked through the horrors he'd survived. The wizard never promised that the trauma would be forgotten or ever fully healed, he simply assured him that he would assist him with the tools necessary to overcome all that he'd endured.

With that, he sent him home for the weekend, insisting that he rest before they began dissecting his narrative further the following Monday. At the look of confusion on Draco's face, he explained that though he had confided much of his time during the war they would be delving deeper into each memory before moving forward. He ensured that it was necessary to find meaning in each experience to begin healing. Resigned to the idea of delving deeper into the darkened memories he purposefully avoided, Draco nodded goodbye to the Healer before gathering Hermione from the waiting area.

Though he was anxious to attend his session after his weekly check-in with Auror Richards, Draco couldn't help feeling pleased with their success the day before and the home Hermione had chosen. It was only as his appointment drew closer, while waiting patiently in the lounge, did he wonder what method Mathews would use to begin. He was so consumed with his inner monologue that the receptionist had to tap him on the shoulder to gather his attention.

"Mr. Malfoy, Healer Mathews would like to see you now," she supplied before turning back to her desk. Furrowing his brow in confusion, he glanced at the grandfather clock, standing in the far corner of the room, and realized there was still twenty minutes until his scheduled time.

"Miss, are you sure? My appointment isn't until…"

"I'm well aware that your appointment isn't until eleven, Mr. Malfoy, but Healer Mathews has requested your presence for the remaining time of Ms. Granger's hour," she interrupted him with a brisk tone. "Now, please gather your things and head in…they're waiting." Refusing to reply, Draco snatched up his copy of the morning Prophet alongside his cup of tea before striding to the office door and slipping inside.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, thank you for joining us," Mathews began while Draco settled himself on the sofa alongside Hermione.

"Not a problem…" he automatically replied as he briefly took in Hermione's irritated demeanor.

"Well, I've asked you here a bit ahead of schedule because there are a couple of things we need to discuss," he hedged as his gaze flickered to Hermione. "Ms. Granger, if you would please…" Before turning her attention to Draco, she pursed her lips as if to refuse his request but seemed to think better of it as the Healer arched a greying brow.

"As you and I will soon be moving out," Hermione ground out, "Healer Mathews wanted me to…admit to something I've been hiding from you." Her jaw clenched as she stared unblinkingly at the coffee table before them, clearly determined not to witness his reaction. Draco watched as her fingers gripped the hem of her pale pink summer dress and instinctively knew what she was referencing.

"Hermione…" Healer Mathews prompted when she seemed reluctant to continue. Tears welled in her eyes and she tilted her head back to blink them away as she bit her lower lip. With a few deep breaths, she seemed to gather her nerve before turning towards Draco and meeting his reassuring grey gaze.

"Since the end of the war I've been alternating between calming draughts and dreamless sleep potions in an effort to combat my night terrors," she stated factually. "I'm aware that they can be rather addictive and I've tried to only use them when sleep eluded me, but…well…after we started to share a bed, I didn't want to be a bother," she sighed in frustration. "As you've seen first-hand, my nightmares can be rather intense and, though I've tried not to abuse them, I've found that I am quite dependent now. Healer Mathews thinks it's best for me to stop using them and wants you to be aware of the situation since we will be living on our own shortly."

"I see," Draco expressed coolly as he held her weary gaze. Even though he was well aware of the situation he still wanted to know why she'd hidden everything from him. "So, after everything I've shared with you, you thought what? That you couldn't trust me? That I was too broken to understand or h-help you?"

"What? No, Draco, no I swear it wasn't anything like that!" Hermione exclaimed as she quickly maneuvered herself across the cushions and grasped his hand. Her warm brown irises implored him to listen as tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. "I took them because I didn't want to be a bother and add to your pain. You've been through so much and I know you're barely sleeping as it is…I wanted to be there for you, to help you," her voice broke as a few tears slipped from her lashes.

Reaching up, Draco brushed them away with his knuckle before gently trailing the tip of his finger down her jawline. "Hermione, I could never consider you a bother. I've let you in and shared more with you than anyone else, outside of Healer Mathews that is. But I wish you hadn't knowingly endangered yourself in some noble attempt to minimize your own needs. I thought we were helping each other through this…I thought," he paused and swallowed back the idea of meaning something to her before pushing on, "these sessions had lessened the number of nightmares you were having. I guess I should have known better."

"Draco, you have helped me," she declared though he averted his gaze. Grasping his face between her hands, she turned him back to look at her "You have helped me. The potions only last a few short hours before my subconscious slips back to the final battle or your manor. Sometimes they jolt me awake before you're up and other times you've pulled me from the terrors. You've held me when I've cried and helped me back to sleep…"

"Not nearly as many times as you have for me," he countered irritably.

"But you've still helped…"

"But I could have done more" Draco proclaimed. "Don't you get it, Hermione, I feel like a burden to you and the one thing I could have truly helped you with, you hid from me. You hid this!" Tears slid freely down her cheeks as she stared into his pain-riddled gaze and intertwined her fingers with his.

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly. "I'm so sorry, Draco." Though a part of him was still hurt by her actions, he hated to see her cry. Momentarily forgetting that they weren't alone, he released her hand and pulled her onto his lap where she tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder. Winding her arms around his neck she continued to apologize, swearing he wasn't a burden and that she would be better as he tightened his hold around her back.

"It's okay, Granger, shh…" he murmured by her ear. "We'll get through this…I'll help you with whatever you need."

"I'm supposed to be the one helping you," she argued. Leaning back to look into her eyes, Draco brushed a few curls away from her face before he cupped her cheek.

"Potter may let you boss him around as he believes you to be an infallible witch, but you forget that I was second in our year and Snape was my godfather. I'm well aware of how addictive those potions are and, though you're an outstanding witch, you are going to need help. You may be able to fight the temptation during the day, but in the middle of the night when you're sleep-deprived and shaking from withdrawal, you'll need me." Nodding her head in acceptance she curled back into his embrace, clinging to his button-down as she took several deep cleansing breaths.

Having assumed Harry had outed her, Hermione had been rather angry at the beginning of her session as Healer Mathews questioned her on the subject. However, that quickly gave way to embarrassment when she was instructed to inform Draco. She had never planned for him to find out about the potions or her inability to sleep without them.

Now though, as she sat curled against him, she could only hope he forgave her for her weakness. For her inability to ask for help when she needed it most because she was so used to being the person everyone else depended upon. She knew without a doubt that if he pushed her away that she wouldn't be able to give up the potions. His presence was a balm for the horrors that plagued her mind and when she was wrapped in his arms the world often fell away.

Therefore, she jumped in surprise when Healer Mathews cleared his throat. Rather than allow her to scramble off his lap and back to her seat, Hermione found Draco settling her beside him with her hand grasped in his. "Well, now that the two of you are on the same page, Hermione mentioned she's finally bought a house," their Healer began. As Hermione blushed a deeper shade of red, the elder wizard turned his focus to Draco. "She told me a little bit about the place, but I'm interested to know if you felt it was worth the wait?"

Thinking back over the weekend, Draco recalled listening to the realtor explain that, even though the cottage was in West Sussex just outside of Petworth, they would be able to apparate to the front patio as it was in a secluded wood. Having refused to look at any more leaflets on homes Hermione would turn down after only a moment's glance, he'd wait to form an opinion until she was at least willing to look inside.

However, as they landed on the cobblestone patio looking out over the lush woods surrounding the property, he couldn't help but feel a sense of calm settle within his magic. Wildflowers swayed in the overgrown grass of the clearing while clematis vines crept up the sides of lower creek stone walls of the home. The top level had a Tudor style design with cream-colored stucco and rich brown wooden trim beneath a slate tiled roof. After sharing a look of interest with Hermione, the pair made their way inside to view the rest.

He was surprised to find a rather clean home with, what he'd learned during the course of their house-hunting, several modern touches. Newly refinished hardwood floors ran the length of each room with muggle lighting and beige-colored walls trimmed with sculpted crown molding. The first level held a wood fireplace in the living room, a half-bath, a formal dining room which lead to a conservatory overlooking the meadow, and an open kitchen with a large center island, marble counters, and newly updated cabinets. Upstairs there were four bedrooms with high vaulted ceilings, wood beam accents, and two full baths; one which included a deep soaker tub and separate shower.

With only a glance at Hermione, Draco knew it was the home that she'd been waiting for. Though smaller than Malfoy Manor, he preferred the serene atmosphere the cottage offered. Hermione didn't even hesitate to bid the full asking price and before Sunday dinner rolled around, they had the acceptance letter in hand.

"Yeah, it was," Draco answered easily before Healer Mathews tilted his head, silently urging him to explain. "I understand what she was looking for now" he supplied as Hermione turned to him with an inquisitive lift to her brow. "Hermione didn't just want a house, but a home that brought her a sense of peace as it was untouched by war. A place free of nightmares or designs which were similar to places she'd been over the last year. And that's what she found…a serene cottage nestled back off a country road just outside of a muggle town and, if I didn't know any better, I would say it had a touch of magic all on its own," Draco admitted as a genial smile spread across Hermiones' lips.

XXX

In some ways, the rest of the week flew by as they selected paint colors for the new house, determined which bedroom would be made into the library, and argued over who would have the master suite. Becoming fed up with her and their endless debate, Draco finally snapped and informed Hermione that it didn't matter which bedroom was who's as long as the bed was comfortable and still large enough for them to share. He couldn't help but smirk after leaving her standing in the middle of the kitchen with her mouth ajar.

Rather than purchase all new furniture, Draco suggested she pick through his vault and use anything she fancied. Initially, she argued against utilizing his family's antiques until Harry pointed out that it would give her time to finish school, obtain a position, and save for the furniture she wanted when Draco moved out. He even proposed that if she didn't find everything she needed in Malfoy's catalog that she could choose anything from his.

In other ways, the week dragged on. Their sessions with Healer Mathews were grueling and the nights were longer as Hermione abstained from taking her usual potions. Waking frequently throughout the night, she'd scream out from the memories of the fallen at the Battle of Hogwarts or being attacked by Nagini in Godric's Hollow.

The initial withdrawals of the potions seemed manageable until the fifth night rolled around. Sensing something was wrong, Draco jolted awake only to find an empty space beside him. It didn't take him long to find Hermione fumbling through the cabinets in the upstairs bathroom, searching for the potions she'd begrudgingly surrendered to Harry late Monday evening.

Understanding her duress, Draco placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump as she clutched a pale blue vial to her chest. Shaking her head as tears filled her eyes, she told him she couldn't do it, that it had all become too much and she just wanted to sleep without seeing faces of the dead. Stepping forward, he gently cradled her head between his hands and promised that it wouldn't last forever. That the first two weeks would be the worst but he'd be there every step of the way. Finally giving in, she returned the vial to the previously warded cabinet before allowing him to steer her back to bed where she practiced her deep calming breaths until sleep overcame her.

Though Draco regularly held her through the tremors while the phantom pains of Bellatrix's knife dissipated, she still took the time to soothe his pain in return. Often trapped in his darkest memories, usually following a session with their Healer, he would thrash back and forth in his sleep as he mumbled incoherently. It was in those moments, where the shadows of night seemed to press in around them, that Hermione felt grateful to Healer Mathews for insisting on coming clean with Malfoy.

Before long, the cottage was decorated with dark wooden furnishings, luxurious overstuffed leather-bound sofa sets, and a hand-carved king-sized mahogany bedroom suite which Hermione had fallen in love with the moment she laid eyes on it. Though she tried to only choose necessities when perusing the boys' vaults, she couldn't help selecting a few pieces of artwork to add a splash of color to the walls.

By the second week of July, the pair had moved out of Grimmauld place and were comfortably living in their new home. Draco had slowly adjusted to the muggle appliances and new clothes in which Hermione insisted he buy. Though he could admit that the jeans were comfortable, he found he rather enjoyed the way they hugged Hermione's curves as she wandered around the house. He still had trouble acclimating to large crowds as they visited town or apparated to Diagon Alley but his pushy little advocate refused to allow him to remain behind.

Naturally, Draco wasn't surprised when Healer Mathews agreed with Hermione. He believed that leaving the house, outside of standard appointments, would help restore a sense of normality the war had stolen from them. Conceding to the Healer's point, Draco finally confessed to his conflicting feelings for the curly-haired witch and how he was fearful that they were fabrications of his dependency.

Mathews promised him that what he felt was completely normal and urged him to take his time before making any decisions. Shifting the conversation away from Hermione, they began dissecting the task he'd been assigned by the Dark Lord and the events leading up to the night Dumbledore died. They discussed his fears, regrets, plans, and unwillingness to kill, knowing he would likely be punished.

By the time his hour was up, Draco felt emotionally raw and reticent as he met Hermione in the lobby. Sensing his unease, she waited until they reached the atrium to grasp his hand and disapparate home. While she headed into town for groceries, he spent the rest of the day playing with Crookshanks in the garden as he tried to focus on centering his mind and the meaning he'd derived from his memories.

As evening rolled around, he made his way inside and helped prepare dinner while listening to the small wireless radio settled in the corner of the kitchen. Feeling a little more like himself, he inquired about the market and if there was anything new in the paper. Hermione happily indulged him for the remainder of the day and by the time they slipped off to bed he had done his best to forget the session altogether.

Unfortunately, his mind had other ideas as he drifted to sleep curled around the petite brunette. He was unaware of the sweat beading his forehead as he twisted away from Hermione or the whimper which escaped his lips as his subconscious swept him deeper into his darkest memories.

His back arched with each crack of the whip and he cried out in pain as the flesh was ripped open once more. Tears streaked his face as iron manacles bit into his wrists, rubbing them raw as they hung suspended midair. After hours of being flogged with various instruments, his legs gave out and he'd collapsed over the circular table situated before him.

"Have you had enough?" Dolohov's rough voice rang out behind him with a hair-raising cackle. Draco flinched and tried to pull away when he felt the Russian man's hand trail over the ragged wounds littering his body. A whimper tore from Draco's raw throat as fresh tears slipped from his lashes and disappeared into the blood pooled on the floor.

"P-please...n-no m-m-more," he begged.

"Ah, I love the sound of begging so early in the morning," Dolohov chortled as his hand slid down the tattered skin to the blondes' narrow hips. "Now," his voice dropped low as he leaned forward and whispered into Dracos' ear, "beg me to give you pleasure if you wish to avoid any more suffering." Bile rose in the young wizards' throat as he felt the man press his clothed erection to his backside. "If you're a good boy, I'll even consider healing some of these..." he stated as he ran a finger over one of the deeper wounds, causing searing pain to ripple down the Malfoy heir's spine.

"Please," Draco begged in a barely audible whisper. "P-please no more p-pain."

"Close enough," Dolohov sighed. Laying hunched over the table with blood dripping down his porcelain skin, he squeezed his eyes shut as he listened to the rustle of robes being removed. Within moments, a hand gripped his arse and he felt the brush of the man's tip nudge his entrance...

Wrenching himself from the dream, Draco shot straight up in bed, frantically searching the dark for a dead man who'd repeatedly violated him in the cruelest ways. Though he consciously knew Dolohov's soulless body resided hundreds of miles away in the North Sea, he couldn't keep the panic from consuming his thoughts and therefore recoiled against the wall beside him as he caught movement to his right.

"Draco?" Hermione's sleep-filled voice inquired as she wandlessly lit the candles situated on their nightstand. He visibly relaxed while his eyes focused in the dim light and he realized they were the only two in the room. "Draco, what is it?" she questioned as she took in his sweat-drenched skin and fear-filled gaze. Before he could formulate an answer, a sob broke free from his chest and he curled in on himself, winding his arms around his knees as the horrific images of his dream played across his mind.

Understanding finally penetrated her sleep-addled brain and without saying a word Hermione crawled to his side and wrapped him in her arms. His entire body trembled as tears continued to slide down his cheeks and she pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder, reminding him that she wasn't going anywhere. Before long, she disentangled his arms and worked her way onto his lap where she curled herself around his torso and held him tight.

His lean arms wound around her back as his hands gripped at the thin fabric of her nightshirt. Her tender soothing voice was a balm for his pain as she softly murmured in his ear "It's okay, Draco, let it out...let it all out. I'm right here." He buried his face into the crook of her shoulder as his left hand wove its way into the curls at the base of her neck. Even after weeks of leaning on each other, he still felt undeserving of her kindness as she tenderly stroked his scarred back through his dampened tee. Rather than turn her away and wallow in his self-deprecation alone, he held onto her for all he was worth...no matter how little he thought that might be.

As the minutes slowly ticked by, the trembling in his body ceased and his breathing slowly returned to normal. Sensing his reluctance to release her from his embrace, Hermione leaned back and cradled his face between her palms before gently wiping away the stray tears from his red-rimmed eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she whispered, her breath ghosting over his lips as she spoke. He shook his in response and gazed pointedly at the bedsheets as shame overtook him. How could he divulge his nightmare? Explain how he'd begged a psychotic Death Eater to rape him rather than beat him? He was certain if she knew the truth that she'd turn from him and whatever feelings she might have held for him would turn to revulsion. "Draco," she began as if reading his thoughts, "talk to me. I swear no matter what you say I won't leave. Draco, I'm right here..." she dipped her head so her penetrating brown eyes could meet his weary grey.

"I c-can't…" he uttered brokenly as she tilted his head up towards her.

"Draco Malfoy, how can I help you get past this if you won't ever tell me what you dreamt?" she questioned sharply.

"You can't help me..."

"Excuse me?" she ground out. "I may not be a licensed mind healer, like Healer Mathews, but I've attended enough sessions to know it's best to talk about your nightmares rather than keep them bottled inside."

"You've helped enough as it is, Hermione…" he supplied firmly, hoping she would just let it drop so he could shower before returning to bed. Instead, she pressed her advantage and leaned her forehead against his as she peered up at him with pleading eyes.

"Please, Draco, don't shut me out. You've been there for me time and again as I've cried and shared the terrors which haunt my dreams. Let me be here for you." He tried to look away as a mixture of pain and fear churned within his stomach, but she grasped his face within her hands and refused to let him withdraw.

"I have good reason not to share, Hermione...I don't want to lose you," he admitted quietly.

"You won't," she insisted, "I swear I'm not going anywhere." Draco swallowed nervously as he contemplated disclosing the darkest part of his past. She knew he often dreamt of the torment he'd suffered at Greyback and Dolohov's hands, but he'd never intended on giving her the graphic details. Feeling backed into a corner, he let out a shaky breath before conceding. Deep down he knew he wanted more with the curly-haired witch, and if that were to happen then she deserved to know the truth.

"I was reliving my punishment with Dolohov," he began as he reached up and gently took hold of her hands before lowering them to her lap along with his gaze. "He had me chained, standing by a small end table as he whipped me raw for what felt like hours," he breathed, refusing to meet her pitying stare. "I'm not sure when, but before he'd finished, I'd collapsed over the table, bent double as my hands hung suspended above me by manacles. He...he..." fresh tears filled his eyes as his breath started to come in short gasps.

"He what, Draco?" she inquired in a barely audible whisper, urging him to continue. His lip visibly trembled as the gathered tears fell freely between them and his hold tightened around her fingers.

"He asked if I'd had enough…and when I b-begged him to s-stop, he told me he would if I..." he paused briefly, squeezing his eyes shut, "if I begged him for pleas-sure instead." Unprepared for his admission, she momentarily closed her eyes as she fought back tears and swallowed thickly.

"Oh, Draco..."

"It hurt so much, Hermione, he'd whipped me for so long I just wanted the pain to stop. I-I didn't really want him to...to..." he choked over the words as he dropped her hands and covered his face in shame. Tears trailed down his cheeks as he waited for her rejection, her disgust at knowing the man she'd come to care for had crumpled in such a manner.

"Draco..." she uttered softly as he shook his head and tried to disentangle himself from her. "Please don't pull away, I understand..." he lifted his head and stared at her questioningly with bloodshot eyes. "You wanted the pain to stop..." she emitted as she held his penetrating gaze. Nodding his head in agreement, he broke down once more as she pulled him back into her embrace.

"I'm sorry, I-I'm so s-sorry," he choked out repeatedly through his tears.

"Why are you sorry?" she queried in confusion.

"I begged him t-to…to take me. I begged him, Hermione. I was weak and just wanted the pain to stop…I-I…"

"Stop, don't you dare blame yourself for the maltreatment you received by Dolohov's hand," she stated heatedly. "He beat you into submission before you gave him what he wanted."

"It doesn't matter, I still begged for it..."

"Draco Malfoy, you answer me honestly right now," she demanded, gripping his cheeks and forcing him to meet her fierce gaze. "Before he whipped you, did you want to have sex with him?" He fervently shook his head 'no' in response as she pressed on. "Did you want to be beaten or belittled?" Again, he answered in the negative. "Then it was still rape," she stated flatly. "Even when you begged him, you didn't want it. You just felt that anything would be better than the torture you'd endured for hours." He nodded his head as she brushed back his hair and lightly trailed her fingertips down the bridge of his nose and over the tender swelling under his eyes.

"I just wanted it to stop," he murmured as he felt her stroke the sharp line of his jaw down to the point of his chin.

"I know," Hermione breathed as the tip of her index finger hovered just beneath his lips, "I know exactly what you mean. After all, I begged Bellatrix to stop after only spending an hour beneath her wand." Torn from the yearning sensation overwhelming his senses as her hand fell away, Draco's worn grey eyes flickered to her glistening brown and an understanding passed between them. Both of them had endured pain and torment by the hands of Voldemort's most revered Death Eaters…and both had crumpled before the end. It didn't mean they were weak, they'd each lasted a lengthy time before begging their attacker for mercy. The only difference was that Hermione had been rescued before giving in to her abusers' demands…and Draco hadn't.

"I never wanted...it...any of it," he professed, knowing she'd understand he wasn't just referring to his punishment.

"I know," was all she said before she slid from his lap, pulled him down onto the bedspread, and pillowed his head upon her chest. He wound his arms around her as he snuggled deeper into her embrace, sighing as she ran her fingers through his hair. Together, they laid there wrapped in each other and a contented silence until soft beams of sunlight began to filter through the window.