Draco entered the Head Common Room to find Hermione standing motionless before the fire, staring into its bright, smoky depths. Draco advanced quietly, not wanting to startle her, but when he laid a hand on her shoulder, she gasped and jerked away. As soon as her eyes met Draco's, she quickly averted her gaze and shifted her attention back to the warm fire crackling in front of her, not uttering a single word.

Draco didn't know what to do to comfort her. He knew her conscience was beating her up more than a Crucio would, but he had no words at all. What was he supposed to say? Hey, thousands of people are born every day, there's no harm in killing one off.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked tentatively. Hermione didn't respond, only closed her eyes.

With a start, Draco suddenly saw Hermione's shirt, which was soaked through with blood. The piece of cloth was as good as dripping red, which made Draco think the wound underneath was still bleeding.

"Merlin, Granger, you're hurt. We need to get you to the Hospital Wing immediately. You're losing a lot of blood." 

"No need," she replied in a small voice. "I did a Numbing Charm."

"Yeah, but that's not going to knit the wound up, is it?"

Hermione shuddered slightly and didn't reply again. Draco knew he had to get her to the hospital somehow. He had no idea how she'd managed to stay standing for so long, but if she didn't see Madam Pomphrey, she'd be as good as dead in a matter of minutes. But for that, he needed to calm her down, and he was no good at this kind of thing.

"Hey," he said gently. "Sit down and breathe. It's okay."

"Okay?" Hermione said. "This was anything but okay, Malfoy. Don't try to sugarcoat it to make it easier on me. I know what I did."

"Yeah, but you were provoked," he said, trying to comfort her in some way. "You were not responsible for that."

"Of course I am," Hermione said. "Being angry, being provoked - that's no excuse for killing someone. Hell, there is no excuse for killing someone like that. I attacked behind his back. There's no excuse for that."

Draco didn't reply. He was the last person to be with her right now. She needed her friends.

"Should I get Potter or - "

"No," she said immediately, turning towards him. "Don't."

"Okay, but sit down," he said. Seeing her like that scared him. No, scared was too strong a word. It made him concerned. It was still better to see her crying, sobbing, screaming with rage, throwing things around. But this silence, this was worse than anything. This meant that her soul was broken beyond repair.

"Granger," Draco said. "I know it wasn't you who did this."

Hermione looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that the person who killed Avery was just  - not you. I saw hate in your eyes, just too much of it. You're not capable of such emotions. It was like something snapped when you cast that Fiendfyre - you were just not... you anymore."

Hermione nodded subtly. "I was out of control."

"You could put it that way, but there was nothing you needed to control in the first place. I admit, Fiendfyre's Dark stuff, but it doesn't affect you till you've grown too dependent on it."

"I don't know," she said. "When I cast the fire, I just felt so much rage. I'd never, ever, experienced such heights of rage before, not even when Remus and Tonks died. It was like I wanted to destroy him. I actually enjoyed doing it. I know that's not me. I just don't know what happened."

She took a long breath, then said, "Avery was a Death Eater, but he was human. I would never dream of doing something like that. Even if I had to kill, I'd never make it so painful. It was like something had got hold of me that I couldn't shake off, but the person who did it was me. It was my hand that held the wand that burned a fellow human being to the ground. So, yeah, maybe I was out of control, but it was still me."

Draco remained silent, turning Hermione's words over. This was the first time he'd heard of something like this, except, of course, when Harry used to 'become' Voldemort when the Dark Lord took enough of a grip on him. This was not possible here. Voldemort was dead, and even if he were alive, he'd attack Harry's brain, not Hermione's. Moreover, if Voldemort took over, he'd not force her to kill one of his own Death Eaters.

"You also controlled Fiendfyre," Draco said, after some contemplation. Hermione looked at him questioningly.

"Fiendfyre's not easy to handle. We've actually been taught how to do it, being Death Eaters, but still, Crabbe couldn't control it that day in the Room of Requirement. Under duress, he let it go wild. But you were under duress... and you did it."

"I don't know, I've never even looked it up in a book," Hermione replied. "It came naturally. The fire felt obedient enough."

"I've never seen anyone do it so neatly as you," Draco pondered. "Talk about strange."

"Yeah, well, if it had been like that I would've been able to blame the fire to kill him," Hermione said softly.

Draco slowly walked her to the sofa and sat her down, giving her some water. Hermione didn't take it. She was lost in her thoughts. She could still hear Avery's screams, though they didn't sound so enjoyable now.

"We lost the Resurrection Stone," Hermione said. "And I still couldn't say goodbye."

Draco didn't interrupt her. It was good for her to get it all out instead of letting it stifle her.

"I used to go to bed every night, reassuring myself that I'd pick up the Stone the next day and do it. But I never could. I was too afraid to see them again. I thought that if I saw them, I'd begin spiraling all over again and never be able to recover. I just kept delaying it. And now I can't see them even though I want to, so badly."

Hermione's thoughts were tumbling out of her mouth, but they were all emotionless. She was speaking robotically, staring into black space, not aware that she was speaking aloud what she was thinking. But it was good for Draco. At least he'd know what was troubling her.

"Although part of me now thinks it was good for them to not see me. Because I wouldn't be their little darling Hermione now, you know? I'd be a monster, a killer. And I'm glad they didn't see me like this. Having blood on my hands. This is not what they raised me to be."

She leaned forward, her hands in her hair, her elbows on her knees, and when she spoke next, her voice was trembling. "What have I become?"

"You haven't changed, Granger," Malfoy said, coming down to sit next to her. He rubbed her back in slow circles. "You are the same, and your parents would be proud of you. Think of it like this - you just avenged someone's dead children, parents, and friends, people who Avery had killed. He got his punishment because that's how karma works. He reaped what he sowed. And as for your parents, Granger, they'd love you regardless of what you'd done. They'd love you the way you are. Don't forget that."

***

In the end, Draco finally got Hermione to come to the Hospital Ward with him. Madam Pomphrey was sorting out some potions in brown vials in front of a bed, and Draco presumed it was Professor Slughorn occupying it, judging by the protruding round belly and glimpses of pale hair. He sat Hermione down on a bed and asked for the Healer to have a look at her.

Madam Pomphrey was understandably shocked to see Hermione soaked in blood. She ordered Draco out and drew the curtains around the bed, then asked Hermione to remove her shirt. 

"Oh Merlin, there's so much blood I can't see the injury at all. Scourgify."

The blood cleaned itself, and Madam Pomphrey got to her work, asking Hermione questions about the Curse that had done it. Hermione replied as precisely as she could, but since she didn't know the curse, it was of little help.

"You are very lucky the curse didn't touch your heart," she said. "I expect you've done a Numbing Charm on the wound?"

Hermione nodded. "Well, we'll keep it on while I do the counter-curses and apply the potions needed, but when I've wrapped it up, I'll have to remove the charm. Wounds heal a lot faster if the nerves in the area aren't blocked. But it's going to hurt a lot, I'm afraid."

"That's okay," Hermione replied. She didn't listen to half of what the Healer was saying, but she was sure her mental torment would allow her to completely ignore physical pain.

Madam Pomphrey gently applied a jelly-like orangish-brown concoction on the wound, and then bandaged the area. Then, even though Hermione had been ready, when Madam Pomphrey removed the charm, she was suddenly hit by a shockwave of pain. She cried out in agony.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do anything for the pain," Madam Pomphrey said. "I could give you potions to blot it out, but that would slow your recovery too. Best to grit it out. You'll feel it less if you sleep, though. You can take a Sleeping Draught."

"In a moment, Professor," Hermione said, as she heard sounds of people approaching. Madam Pomphrey drew back the curtains, and Hermione saw Harry, Ron, and Ginny enter.

"Oh my God, Hermione, how are you here?" Harry said, approaching her bed. "I only knew that Professor Slughorn was badly injured. We came to see him, but what happened to you?"

"Dolohov happened," Hermione said, leaning back against the pillows. It felt much better against the tons of bandages around her shoulder and across her torso. "Madam Pomphrey just patched it up. It's nothing much."

"Hermione, you are almost mummified in bandages. That's not 'nothing much'."

"Honestly, Harry, I'm okay," Hermione replied. "I just want to sleep."

"Yeah, sure, I'll get Madam Pomphrey to give you the Sleeping Draught," Harry said, then went off to get the Healer. Hermione saw Ron and Ginny looking at her concernedly, but extremely awkwardly. Draco looked indifferent, but that wasn't fooling her. Surprisingly, Draco was the only person there that Hermione felt glad was present. She had just lost the connection that she had had with her Gryffindor buds. Well, even the closest bonds could be broken. And most of them could not be forged again.

She heard some more footsteps, but before she could see who it was, Madam Pomphrey blocked her view by coming near and giving her the Sleeping Draught. It began working immediately, and Hermione could already feel sleep pulling her back. However, just as when she was beginning to doze off, she saw a pug-faced girl with straight, dark brown hair in front of her, and she was saying something that sounded like, "Thank you for Blaise."