“That's my vegetable garden over there,” Ginny said, “it gets the best sunlight. It used to have roses, but I was dying of boredom and the elves moved them so that I could have a patch with something to do. I'm — I've actually become quite a cook, like Mum. Harry used to cook too. He'd bring me breakfast sometimes, you know...” Ginny's voice faded away, and she stood at the top of a moon bridge staircase that overlooked a pond with large koi fish swimming in it. “God — I would give anything to have a picture.”
She looked over at Hermione and gave a wistful smile. “It's so weird finally having someone to talk to who isn't a house-elf. Anyway, your rooms are all here, on this side of the house, and James and I are just across the garden, in those rooms.” Ginny pointed to the left. She slid two doors apart and stepped back.
It opened into a room about the size of Hermione's bedroom at the manor. It was crammed to the ceiling with walls of books. A wing-backed chair was in one corner, and a secretary desk was in another. There were thousands of books. The shelves were all full despite the obvious use of expansion charms, and there were boxes and stacks of more books covering most of the floor.
Hermione stepped through the doorway and turned around, taking it all in.
“Malfoy brought all this,” Ginny said from behind her. “I guess that's probably obvious.”
There were doors on three of the walls. Hermione slid one open and peered through to find a potion and alchemy lab, stocked with cauldrons, jars and jars of materials, and foraging baskets that hung from hooks overhead. Her fingers twitched against the wooden door, and her throat tightened as she slid it closed.
“He'd visit, verify James and I weren't dead, add wards, and then spend most of his time here. He came a lot — back at the beginning, but then less as time went on. He'd bring the weirdest stuff sometimes, and always excused it saying you'd need things to keep you occupied. The gardening stuff was actually for you too. I hope you don't mind that I stole it.”
Hermione shook her head as she slid the other set of doors open and found a sitting room with more shelves filled with books.
There were curtained windows. Hermione slowly brushed one aside and was relieved not to find another cliffside ocean view. The window looked into a bamboo grove.
Hermione stared for a few moments before dropping the curtain down again.
There was another large set of doors on the far side of the sitting room. The wall and doors were painted with a forest shrouded in mist.
Hermione slid the doors apart and found a bedroom. The room was dark, with curtains hanging down most of the walls. There was a low dresser and mirror. Hermione caught sight of her reflection and discovered she looked like a startled deer.
Too thin.
Still wearing the same clothes she'd worn cutting off Draco's arm and escaping.
She'd been so desperate to tear off her surrogate uniform, but as she looked at her reflection she felt an equal desire to burn the riding clothes. There had to be fresh clothes here. Something else to wear. Something that wasn't drenched in a nightmare.
She looked at the dresser and then glanced over towards Ginny.
Ginny's expression was still tense, her fingers had wandered up and were toying with the tips of her hair. She glanced around the rooms, appearing uncomfortable standing in them. “I didn't know if you'd want to be here, or over with me and James. You don't need to be here at all. I just wanted to make sure you know you'll have space and privacy if you want it. I—” Ginny's voice broke off, and she took a deep breath. “I'm so glad you're finally here.”
Hermione nodded slowly. She glanced around the room. “No. This is nice. I'm still — getting used to things. It's been so long since—” she swallowed and ran her fingers across the linen duvet on the bed, “I think some space will be best.”
Ginny nodded, but her eyes grew pained. “You'll come be with us sometimes though — won't you? James has never seen any other humans but me and Malfoy. I've told him so many stories about you and Harry and Ron—”
“Of course. I just mean—” Hermione found herself at a loss for how to explain it to Ginny. “None of this seems real yet. What we did—” her chest tightened. “It was such a gamble. We still don't know if it worked all the way.”
She felt for her wand. Fifteen more minutes and Draco would be back.
Ginny cocked her head to the side. “I was wondering about that? How exactly was it supposed to work? Malfoy just said you were attempting an escape by cutting his Dark Mark off and using Lucius. But — Malfoy will go back eventually, because he made an unbreakable vow to defeat Voldemort, right?”
Hermione tensed so rigidly she thought her spine might snap. “No. He can't go back. He's never going to go back. He's going to stay here now, with me,” Hermione said in a flat voice.
Ginny's expression grew unreservedly dismayed for a split-second before she masked it.