Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. He is Ginny's. I mean, JKR's.

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Blaise

They were in a cavernous, darkly-lit room beneath the telephone booth. Blaise held a chipped, grimy teacup to his lips carefully and pretended to take a sip. He swallowed hard and watched as Theo's eyes lit up with glee. 

"Your name?" Theo grunted impatiently when Blaise continued staring at him placidly.

"Blaise Ivan Zabini." Blaise replied in a slurry monotone, shifting his eyes slightly from side to side to mimic panic. They'd put Veritaserum in the tea, then.

"Yes..." Theo hissed with satisfaction. "Have you spoken with Astoria?"

Astoria. She had lied. Some part of him had expected it. Some part of him still stung from the betrayal. He had not loved Astoria, but they had been comrades. He had wanted to trust her. Which part of what she said was true? Had it all been a lie? Was Pansy even here? He needed to know.

"Yes."

"Do you know where she is now?"

"No." So they'd lost contact with her. Good. He wasn't about to tell them she was living in his house, thank you very much.

"What did Astoria tell you?"

"She told me Pansy was here." He replied in the same monotone.

"Ah... " Theo barred his teeth gleefully. "And do you want her back?"

"Yes." Blaise gritted his teeth. So Pansy was there, then.

"Show me where she is." He demanded, forgetting his drugged up pretence.

"Ahh... Such a Gryffindor, Blaise." Theo chuckled. It sounded like nails scratching on gravel. Blaise flinched. "Is the Veritaserum wearing off already?"

Blaise sat in sullen silence.

"No matter. Tell you what, Blaise, old pal, since we're old housemates and all, we'll let Pansy go if you'll kindly exchange her for someone else." Theo rubbed his hands together excitedly, his teeth grinding together audibly. "Think you can do that for me?"

Blaise thought about it. "Who do you want?"

"Harry Potter."

"I..." Blaise looked up. "But he's Harry Potter?! How am I going to -"

"I don't care how you do it." said Theo. "But if you don't, we're going to kill her."

"... How much time do I have?"

Theo grinned. "That's more like it! One month, and I'm being magnanimous here."

Blaise blanched. "Please, I -" He glanced nervously the group of people surrounding him. He hadn't been disarmed, but he knew there were dozens of wands still trained inconspicuously on him from under sleeves or tightly gripped in pockets. He was outnumbered here. "I need more time to get close to Potter, to lure him to... to us."

"Us?" Theo laughed, his reedy voice amplifying ominously in the cave-like enclosure they were in. "There is no 'us', Blaise. You will get me Harry Potter, or I will kill your precious pug-"

Everyone laughed uproariously. Blaise bit back the furious retort welling up within him, his fists shaking in his robe pockets.

"I mean, pug-nosed Parkinson." Theo giggled creepily. "We'll make it long and entertaining... First we'll rip off her nails one by one, then we might give her a little nose job..."

The crowd laughed eagerly. 

"We'll cut off her toes and make her eat them... Borris there wants a go at her, so maybe we'll let him...In fact, maybe we'll take turns enjoying her pussy... We'll cut her to ribbons and heal her and rip her apart again -"

"Stop." Blaise's voice was hoarse, his voice shaking with the effort to conceal the disgust, the fury, the shame that rushed over him like a tidal wave.

"I'll- I'll do it." He took a deep breath and raised his wand. Several people whipped out their wands and pointed them at him threateningly. "I, Blaise Ivan Zabini, do swear upon my magic to use any means necessary to bring Harry Potter to Theodore Nott. So mote it be." The tip of his wand glowed red with the promise.

Theo nodded approvingly. "Very good, Blaise. One last question: do you hate Harry Potter?"

Blaise looked up at Theodore, malice and disgust pouring off his rigid frame in waves. "More than anything."

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Hermione

"I am not going." Hermione said firmly, her hands clenched into fists by her sides. "I don't - I don't have a problem, okay? I'm fine. I don't need to go to whatever rehabilitation centre you're talking about. I don't need... therapy. I don't need this nonsense. I'm totally okay -"

"Miss Granger..." The healer looked at her gently. "You need help. We've fed you some nutrient potions while you were unconscious, but your body still isn't back to normal. You're hypothermic, your heart rate is too slow, you have hypotension, you've suffered extensive acid damage to your teeth and oesophagus, your body weight is dangerously low..."

"Okay, stop." Hermione said angrily. "I said I'm fine. I don't need this crap. I-"

"Miss Granger, we cannot help you if you don't want to help yourself get better. You cannot go on like this."

"I'm fine!" Hermione insisted, almost in tears. "Sure, I might feel a little dizzy or cold sometimes, but I'm fine! I just need... need to get away from... from this!" She gestured helplessly at her surroundings. "From everything!"

The healer nodded slowly. "I understand, Miss Granger. I will leave you for now, but please do consider what I just said. The rehab centre serves to help you, not harm you. Some time there will surely do you good."

Hermione practically melted into the hospital bed as soon as the healer had left. She was so tired, dammit. She didn't need or want rehab. She was fine. 

She rubbed her aching head softly with her palms. Everything hurt. Why was it so cold in here? She snuggled deeper into the thick bedsheets, shivering. The mattress dug into her frame uncomfortably. She shifted. Nope, still digging into her. She shifted again, her bones aching with the effort. What was wrong with St. Mungos, anyway? She'd been in here before, and the beds had always been so soft and comfortable. She'd been pretty sure St. Mungos had internal heating too.

Her brain suddenly latched onto what the healer had said. They'd given her "some" nutrient potions. What did "some" nutrient potions mean? How many? She frantically started checking herself for extra fat. Dammit, what did they give her? She felt lightheaded with panic as she sat up quickly, her hands shaking as she wrapped them around her left thigh. She could still wrap them around it with space to spare, thank Merlin. Did it seem a little thicker than before, though? She peered at it worriedly, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

She barely noticed when Draco walked in.

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Draco

Draco's heart twisted as he stared at Hermione, who was still staring worriedly at her left thigh. 

"Hermione."

She looked up at him, startled, and quickly hid her body behind her bedsheets again.

"Hey."

"Everything okay?" He asked.

"Yeah."

He sat down carefully on the chair beside her bed. "I..." He paused, acutely aware of the stifling silence in the room.

"I just got discharged."

Deafening silence continued to reign over the room.

"Great. You look good." Hermione suddenly blurted. "I mean- better. Than before. You looked like you would break. Before."

He didn't know how to reply to that. "I, uh, thanks."

She didn't seem to want to say anything else.

"I... I signed up for therapy sessions in the rehab centre." He finally said, swallowing hard.

 "Oh."

"Yeah. So, I, uh, think maybe you should go too." 

"Not you too." She said dully. "I'm not going."

"Why not?" He said heatedly. "It can't do you any harm! It'd be better than the way you're carrying on now, anyway!"

"I've been telling everyone all day that I'm fine!" She argued, her cheeks flushed with frustration. "Why does nobody believe that? Nothing is wrong with me. I don't need therapy or rehab!"

"Well if everyone's telling you something's wrong, maybe something actually is!" He almost yelled. "Hermione, I've never seen you eat anything willingly! And when you do eat you throw it up! You have a problem, okay? And you need to get help and fix it!"

"I don't need anyone to tell me how to live! I can control myself! It's my life and my choices!" She yelled back.

"You're going to die!" Draco roared.

Hermione froze and stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes. Her mouth, half-opened with a retort on her lips, closed slowly.

"You're going to die if you keep doing this." Draco said again, quietly. "You didn't survive a war for this, Hermione. I can't- can't watch you do this to yourself."

"I don't want to fix it." Hermione finally admitted. "I- I can't."

Draco looked at her quietly. "That's not the Hermione I knew in school."

"Really? What was she like?" Hermione said with a dry laugh.

"She was fierce and smart. She knew the answer to everything. She could fix anything if she tried. The word 'can't' wasn't in her vocabulary. She refused to be defeated by anything. She was so lively, so tireless, so unrelentingly, stubbornly passionate despite the trials and discrimination she faced. You were like a weed, Granger. No one could dampen your spirit. No one could trample you and keep you down permanently. You faced challenges head-on and you won almost every time. I was so jealous of you, Hermione. So jealous that someone of supposed inferior blood and breeding could be so... so good. At everything."

Hermione's eyes were red. "I'm not her anymore." She choked out.

"But you are her." Draco said. "You still have it in you. I saw it when you outsmarted the guards. You can do anything, be anything, if you wanted to. If you tried."

Hermione was silent.

"Please." Draco was fairly sure he'd never begged like this in his life, ever. What was he even doing?

"Fine." Hermione bit out. "I'll go, but they'll say nothing's wrong with me, and I'll probably go home immediately."

"And what if-" 

Hermione whimpered. "Don't say it."

"I'll stay with you if you're staying." Draco bargained. "You won't be alone there."

"But... but you're just going to therapy!"

"I... I lied." Draco lied smoothly. "The healers recommended I stay there. To... so they make sure I don't... maim myself anymore." He chuckled dryly. 

"Go to rehab, please, Hermione." He stared at her with his best impression of earnest puppy eyes. "If only to keep me company so I don't go insane."

Hermione peered at him suspiciously. "That was your original motive all along, wasn't it?"

He snorted. "Of course it was. What, you thought I was worried about your health? Fat chance."

"Okay." She finally agreed.

He released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

A/N: Hey guys, sorry I haven't updated in a while. But I promise I'll try to update regularly from now on!

I know rehabilitation centres are technically supposed to be specialised, like drug rehab and alcohol rehab and ED rehabs, etc., but for this story I'm assuming the wizarding world has just one rehab centre that caters to everyone's needs, because a) the wizarding world has a tiny population, so it would make sense for them to have just one big rehab facility, b) it's my plot :P, and c) Hermione and Draco get to stay together this way, and that's important for the continuation of this fic.

Okay, adios for now! Hope you enjoyed, and shoot me a vote/comment if you liked it!