Fractured Triangle

"Knock knock!"

Sitting on a seat beside the window of her room, late August sun filtering through the open pane, Hermione jumped and looked nervously around from the book she was pretending to read, where it was resting in her lap.

She was trying to forget the incident of the night before, as if it never happened, as if she had not been raped by one of the Dark Lord´s aides, as if everything was coming up roses and she was completely at ease with life, the world and everything.

Ron would never know. He wouldn´t get himself hurt - or killed - trying to get back at the one who had harmed her. She could pretend that everything was all right for his sake and for Harry´s.

After all, Malfoy probably intended to have them come after him. It was probably all to get to Harry, which was why he had used her. She was one of Harry´s closest friends, so she was a logical target: getting to her so Harry would go after Malfoy to get his revenge.

And probably get killed in the process.

No.

They didn´t need to know.

Anyway, she was fine.

Everything was grand, she told herself, even though every breath she took caught in her raw throat and reminded her of the tearing sobs she had felt the previous night, every shift she made caused her clothing to rub against bruised skin, every time she heard footfalls, she flinched as if it might be...him.

"Who-who is it?"

"Only your drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend and his ugly sidekick," Ron answered cheerfully, as he opened the door and stepped into the room, grinning broadly, Harry close beside him, also smiling.

Smiling faintly in response, Hermione laid her book down, lowering her feet from the chair. "Ron, Harry...nice to see you."

Ron´s face fell. "That´s it? Nice to see you?"

Coming to her feet, crossing her arms over her stomach, her hands gripping above her hips, she tried to force another equally unsteady smile. "I-I haven´t been feeling too well," she lied.

"You are looking a bit off-colour," Harry agreed, giving her a lop-sided smile. "Is it something contagious or can we hug?"

"I-I suppose we could hug," she said, although she wanted to curl back on her chair and stay there, unmoving for as long as possible.

However, she had answered the way that she always answered, although with a little more hesitation than usual, and in a heartbeat, Harry had crossed the floor and wrapped his arms around her, swinging her off her feet.

It had been their practiced greeting for the last two years. Something silly in a world already gone mad.

Not even squealing as she normally did, she waited until he had placed her back on the floor. He drew back from her, a concerned look in his green eyes, as he gazed down at her, hands on her shoulders.

He had grown again. In the last two years, he seemed to simply be stretching upwards, but now...

Now, he had finally gained the width to balance with his height. His hair was as wild and as unruly as ever, curls of gleaming black licking around his forehead and the legs of his glasses.

And, as always, he seemed to know when something was wrong.

"You...you´re really not feeling well, are you, Hermione?" he said softly. She shook her head, looking down at the floor. He hugged her a little more gently, drawing her against his chest and holding her there briefly.

It was almost the thing that broke her.

Had he held her a moment longer, she knew she would have crumbled in tears.

It was the thing she dearly loved about Harry, yet - on this day - hated. His ability to make her feel every emotion so much more than she would normally, with a word, or a gesture, something as simple as a hug.

"I missed you," he whispered, letting her go.

"You too," she answered, her smile the same weak, watery one she had given him moments earlier. Reluctantly, she turned from him to Ron, her heart lurching in her chest at the sight of him. "Ron."

He was the same as always, with red hair flopping over his brown eyes, his broad, sunny grin lighting up his freckled face, which seemed to have gained a lot more freckles since it had last time she had seen him.

Taller than Harry by half a head, he towered over her. She had stopped growing in fourth year, yet they had both stretched and stretched, leaving her dwarfed. Not that she minded a jot, especially when she had them to stick up for her.

"Hermione," he said. The way he said her name, was so different from Harry, almost as if he were in awe of it. He moved forward quickly and gathered her in his arms, her jolt of panic making him draw back with worry on his face. "You all right?"

"Me?" She cleared her throat, trying to make less of a squeak and more of an actual vocalisation. "Y-yes. Just a little peaky."

Dipping his head to claim a kiss, he was clearly puzzled when she turned away, offering him one white cheek. Pecking her, he drew back, glancing at Harry, then back at her. "Infectious?"

"Mmm," she mumbled non-committedly.

"Oh well," he gave her an amiable smile. "I can wait."

"Did you get all your books for this term?" Harry inquired, after several minutes of uncomfortable silence. Hermione´s eyes flicked to the one she had placed on the bed, then she nodded. "Read it already?"

"Of course," she replied, wishing she could bite her tongue in half for lying.

"But you´re still going to come with us to get ours, aren´t you?"

Hermione blanched. She had managed to avoid leaving the room since the night before and didn´t really want to face anyone else, apart from her parents and her two best friends.

However, she knew that if she was going to convince them that she was all right and pretend that nothing had happened, she wouldn´t be able to cower in the corner of a room in the Leaky Cauldron for the rest of her life.

"I-I suppose I could," she said. "But not for too long."

Ron nodded, studying her with concerned eyes. "You really don´t look too good, Hermione."

"Thank you for the compliment," she mumbled.

"And you haven´t showed us your Head Girl badge yet," he said, lifting her chin with his hand. She tried to meet his eyes, but had to look away, her cheeks burning scarlet. "You must be ill."

"Ron, don´t tease her," Harry said, shaking his head. "She´s not a female version of Percy, y´know."

"Can you imagine if she was?" Ron gave her a tentative look. He looked like he was hoping to make her smile, as if it were the most important thing in the world. "Now, that would be frightening."

"I can think of worse things than that," Hermione rested her head against his shoulder, his arm loosely around her growing more comfortable as she let him hold her close to his right side.

"Like...?"

"Snape in a pink cocktail dress?" Harry suggested.

Giving him a grateful smile, Hermione actually laughed softly. "Now that is scary."

"I´ll say," Ron shuddered. "Pink is definitely not his colour..."

A muffled giggle from Hermione made her boyfriend beam down at her as if she had just handed him a cheque for a million galleons. "You´re crazy," she said, burrowing into his arms and clinging to him.

"And that´s why you love me."

It felt like she had been punctured, all the happiness leaking out of her with that one small statement. Yes, it was true, beyond true, but how could she admit that when she was lying about the night before?

"Um...Hermione, this is the point where you´re meant to go `Yes, Ron, you are my Knight in shining armour and I love you more than all the books in all the libraries in all the world!´"

"I think that might be pushing it a bit," Harry noted dryly.

Ron grinned. "At least she loves me enough, then," he said. "Right, Hermione?"

Nodding against his shoulder, she couldn´t find the nerve to reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As always, with the impending start of term, many of the less-organised wizarding families were rushing around in Diagon Alley with their children of various ages at the last minute, people bustling this way and that, the swell of voices a constant drone between the walls of shops.

Avoiding a harassed-looking mother with two boys who looked like they were preparing for their first year, the trio had just come exited the Quidditch Supplies shop. They had gone so both of the boys could have a look at the latest version of the Nimbus range: the Nimbus Point Four.

Harry was still enthusiastically commenting on the smooth flow of the broom and the speeds it would no doubt be able to reach, when all three of them were rudely and abruptly interrupted.

"And what," Hermione froze at the voice that murmured directly behind her and her friends. She could feel the prickle of her blood rushing from her face, her vision blurring as her hands starting to shake. "Do we have here?"

With Ron and Harry, she had already visited Flourish and Blotts to pick up the new school books for both boys, as well as visiting the Quidditch shop and stopping for an ice cream at Florean Fortescue´s ice cream parlour, although Hermione had barely picked at the massive Sundae that Harry had bought for her.

They were just on their way to buy their fresh set of supplies for potions, when the cold, drawling and horrifically familiar voice had spoken quietly from a short distance behind them.

Harry and Ron had both whipped round on the first syllable, but she turned more slowly, swallowing down a bitter wave of bile at the sight of the two men standing a few paces away from them.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry said coolly, his arms folded across his chest.

Lucius Malfoy inclined his head slightly, a suggestion of a smirk lifting his lips. As always, he was clad in expensive, ermine-lined robes, his left hand resting on the head of his cane. "Mr. Potter," he said softly. His grey eyes moved to Ron, on Hermione´s right. "And Mr. Weasley. I find myself unsurprised."

Hermione´s trembling hands were rhythmically clenching and unclenching by her sides. She could feel every throb of her heart in her ears and it was taking all her self-control not to turn and run.

Silently praying that he would ignore her, she tried to steady her breathing. It felt like her heart was shivering behind her sternum, her eyes fixed on a point on the cobbled street beneath her feet.

"And Miss Granger, I believe."

Swallowing hard past the fist-size lump of granite in her throat, she raised her brown eyes to find mocking grey ones gazing down at her, the smirk on Malfoy Senior´s lips growing more pronounced.

Draco was standing at his father´s left shoulder, also smirking, but his smirk was directed at Harry and Ron, which - Hermione hoped - meant that he didn´t know what had come to pass between his father and her.

"M-Malfoy," she acknowledged, wishing and praying that she sounded half as casual as Harry had.

She wanted to run.

Run away far and fast.

But her legs...her legs seemed to have turned to stone.

She couldn´t move.

To her horror, he extended a black-gloved hand. "I do not believe that I have had the pleasure of making your acquaintance formally, Miss Granger," he said casually, his eyes locking with hers, challenging her.

Behind him, a look of astonishment crossed Draco Malfoy´s pale face. "Father," he hissed under his breath, but still loud enough for the trio to hear, his eyes maliciously flicking to Hermione´s face. "She´s a mudblood!"

"Malfoy," Ron snarled, Hermione´s hand on his arm the only thing that stopped him from lunging at the two men.

"I am aware of Miss Granger´s heritage, Draco," Lucius Malfoy´s voice betrayed no emotion, but the cold look he shot his son was enough to make Draco fall silent. "So, Miss Granger..."

Hermione stared at the gloved hand that was still extended, then fearfully up at the face of the man who had assaulted her so savagely only the day before, his lips curved in a disdainful sneer.

Somehow, he knew...

He knew that she wouldn´t have told Harry or Ron.

He knew, probably from past experiences, that she would be trying to act as if nothing had happened and behave in the way she normally did, which meant being civilised to everyone.

Even him.

So much for the theory that he wanted Harry and Ron to go after him.

Maybe he was just a sadistic bastard.

That would work too.

Drawing a tremulous breath, she raised her hand and briefly gripped his, before jerking it back. She was practically panting, her shaking hand bunching against her side as she looked back down at the ground.

"I had heard that you were much more talkative, Miss Granger," he said, sounding almost disappointed. His tone of voice and the expression in his eyes were two very different things, though. "Almost...intelligent, if I am to believe my son."

"If I´m to make a guess," Harry said coldly. "Your son only mentioned it, because he was jealous. After all, the only class he ever does at all well in is Potions and we all know why that is."

Livid pink spots appeared on the younger Malfoy´s face. "Potter..."

"Draco," Lucius Malfoy raised a hand casually. The head of his cane touched against the centre of his son´s chest, stopping Draco in his tracks. "I would prefer if you kept this petty rivalry under control for now."

Glaring darkly at Harry, Draco muttered, "Yes, father."

"Ron, can we go?" Hermione whispered shakily. She felt dizzy and sick and she wanted to get back to the safety of the room she was sharing with both of the boys. He was glaring at Draco Malfoy darkly. "Ron..."

"Right," he replied, his eyes narrowed. "C´mon..."

"Leaving so soon?" Malfoy Senior remarked. "Well, that is hardly polite. After all, we have only just met."

"We´re going," Hermione said. Her voice was shaking and thin as she turned around, walking quickly away down Diagon Alley, not even looking back to check that Ron and Harry were following her.

Pounding footsteps behind her suggested that they were.

A hand on her shoulder made her spin around, her hands raised in defence. Ron was standing there, Harry close behind him. "You all right, Hermione?" he asked, his brown eyes on her face.

"I..." She swallowed hard, then nodded, forcing a smile. "Yes. Yes, I´m fine," she replied. "I...it's just that Malfoy..."

"Is a slimy git who deserves to be punched in the gob?"

Hermione nodded. "I suppose I could agree with that," she answered, stiffening a little when Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Forcing herself to relax, she tried to smile up at him, but lowered her face. "Can...could we go back to the Leaky Cauldron? I´m not feeling too well."

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked, moving to flank her other side. This was always the way she had liked them best: the two boys on either side of her. It always made her feel safe, especially with them being so much taller than her.

"Just a bit nauseous," she replied uncomfortably, glancing up at him.

She felt Ron´s hand rubbing her back comfortingly and gritted her teeth together to muffle a whimper of pain, when it grazed over the bruise that had flowered between her shoulder blades.

Part of her wanted to tell them both just why she was acting the way she was. They were her friends, after all. They were the people she loved and who loved her best. If anyone deserved to know, it was them.

And that was the point when the second little voice at the back of her mind started to whisper nervously: yes, but if you tell them about the humiliation, you´ll have to tell them about him almost seducing you as well. You´ll have to tell them that he did make you feel good. You´ll have to tell Ron that someone took the one special thing you could give him.

Forcing down a soft whimper in her throat, she pulled away from Ron´s side and started walking a little faster, hoping that neither of them would see the tears that had welled up in her eyes.

"Hermione," Ron hurried after her, touching her shoulder. "Hermione, what is it?"

He tried to make her stop walking, to turn and face him, but she shrugged his hand off and shook her head. "N-nothing," she replied in a voice that was close to breaking point. "I-I...he...the mudblood thing..."

She knew he wouldn´t believe her.

After five years of the taunt from Malfoy Junior, it had lost its impact on her.

However, she mused, after the night before, she certainly had good reason to hate it more than ever.

"Hermione."

"Ron..." Reluctantly, she turned around to look up at him, her eyes burning with the effort of concealing her tears. "I-I´m not feeling well and-and-and he just made it a lot worse, so please can we just forget it?"

The worried expression on Ron´s face spoke measures. "All right," he agreed quietly. "Let´s get you back to your room."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A fire was crackling in the grate.

Yet another downpour of rain had come in with the setting of the sun and Hermione had transferred all her things to the room she would be sharing with Ron and Harry for their last night before they went back to Hogwarts.

Her parents had left that afternoon, although Mrs Weasley had stayed, along with Ginny, who seemed to be going through a bit of a rough patch. Most people still blamed the incidents of the Chamber of Secrets.

"Oh and you shoulda seen the state of Charlie´s hair!" Ron had been regaling both of them with tales about the Weasley family holiday to visit Charlie in Romania, where he was still working with dragons.

"Burnt?" Harry inquired?

"Like Ginny´s cooking," Ron affirmed with a broad grin.

They were having their dinner in their room, sitting in front of the fireplace, on the rug, chatting about what they had got up to over the summer months. Or at least Ron and Harry were.

Hermione´s mind was elsewhere, going over the very reason that they were - in fact - eating in their room, instead of downstairs.

Malfoy.

Again.

Only an hour before, they had been downstairs, waiting for a table to sit at. Harry was talking to Tom at the bar, while Ron had run off to the toilet, various witches and wizards eating and talking around the pub.

Hermione had been standing just around the edge of the bar from Harry, watching the proceedings half-heartedly, out of the way. She didn´t want to be seen and she was certain no one would notice her in the shadows.

Unfortunately, someone had noticed and she hadn´t even realised they were there, until one arm slid around her waist, a hand clamping over her mouth before she could draw breath to scream.

"All alone again, Miss Granger," a familiar voice had breathed against her neck.

Terror had flooded her and she had gone rigid, making the man looming over her chuckle. That sound, which could be so cheering in some people, made her eyes burn and her body shiver from head to toe.

Why hadn´t she been able to struggle? What was wrong with her that any time he was near her, she seemed to have been caught in a full body bind? Whatever it was, it had left her pinned back against Lucius Malfoy´s chest for nearly a full minute.

His arm that was looped around her waist had slid up her torso and she had pressed her eyes shut in humiliation when his hand closed over her breast, through the thick Weasley jumper she was wearing.

"Tamed so easily," Malfoy´s lips had been cool against her ear. "I must say that is rather disappointing, Miss Granger."

She wished she could have struggled and fought him, but no...

She had tried to break free from him, tried to raise her hands to jerk his from her mouth so she could scream, but her body just wouldn´t obey her mental commands as his fingers bruisingly squeezed her breast, making her whimper in pain.

"I do so hope you´ll have a good term, Miss Granger," he spoke softly. "Head girl... such a high," A chuckle made her hair ripple against her neck and she shuddered as he finished suggestively. "Position."

She wanted to kick, scream, cry...

ANYTHING!

It had only been when Ron had re-entered the bar that his grip had loosened. "I´ll see you soon, Miss Granger," he had breathed against her neck, before jerking around and smashing a savage kiss down on her lips.

No.

It wasn´t a kiss.

It was a sign of his ownership, a brief violation that served as a casual reminder and threat that he had harmed her before and could easily do it again, even with her boyfriend and best friend less than five feet away.

Stumbling out, she had practically fallen into Harry´s arms, as Ron hurried over, whispering that she felt ill and wanted to get back to the room, before she fell over or was sick everywhere.

They had indulged her, as they always did.

In fact, Ron had carried her up the stairs, which normally would have made her laugh, but not today...

Now, they were comfortably in front of the fire, both of the boys talking and barely aware that Hermione was doing nothing but stare into the heart of the fire, watching the wood splinter and curl up.

Ron was lying on his right side, stretched out across the floor, while Harry was sitting back against the front of one of the armchairs. She was positioned at the third point of the triangle, opposite the fire.

Her jean-covered knees were hugged up against her chest, her chin resting on top of them, as she contemplated the flames. The flickering light seemed to be burning up her thoughts, leaving her mind peacefully empty for once.

Hermione listened to the anecdotes passing back and forth between them, but wasn´t really feeling very talkative. She felt stiff and horribly tired, having had barely any sleep the previous night.

Her mouth didn´t seem to want to respond when she tried to smile at Ron and Harry´s jokes and she just wanted to curl up and sleep, safe in the knowledge that they were there and that she was cared for.

"What about you, Hermione?" A bowl of crisps was held up in front of her and she picked one up to nibble on it. Ron gave her a hopeful smile. "Did you have a good summer? Was Athens as impressive as you expected?"

"It was all right," she replied, nibbling on the edge of the crisp.

"And...?"

"And what?"

Ron shrugged helplessly. "I dunno," he said, his expression concerned. "What was the weather like? Did you see historical stuff? Did you get any nice pictures? Books! Local books! Did you get any of them?"

"Got a book. Took some pictures. It was all alright."

Her boyfriend sat up, shuffling a little closer to her. "Hermione, what´s wrong?" he asked seriously. He lifted her chin, making her look at him and she felt her eyes stinging again.

"I´m just tired, Ron."

"No...no, there´s something upsetting you," His eyes searched her face. "You know you can tell me anything, don´t you?"

"Of course I know..."

"So what´s wrong?"

Hermione jerked her chin out of his hand and looked into the fire. She didn´t want to look him in the face in case she blurted it out. She didn´t want him to know. He didn´t need to know.

Blinking hard, she gritted out through clenched teeth, "Is it so hard to believe that I´m just tired, Ron? I was travelling all morning yesterday and I´m not feeling well and you...you..." her voice broke. "You aren´t helping..."

Tears broke from her eyes and she heard her boyfriend´s agitated sound of apology.

"Hermione! I didn´t mean..." He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her and she tried not to shudder at the contact. "I´m sorry, love," he said sincerely, kissing her temple through her bushy hair. "I was just worried."

"Don´t worry," she lied dully. "I´m fine."