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Voldemort fell. The light won.
Yet everything still felt twisted and wrong.
Kingsley was made Minister, while Harry and Ron became his advisors. Positions created just for them, essentially giving them almost the same authority as the Minister.
Hermione was sickened with how they doled out punishments and took advantage of their power.
Most Death Eaters were sent to Azkaban, many of whom received the Dementor’s kiss. This caused the prison to fill up quickly, so the three wizards created a plan and influenced (or threatened, Hermione suspected), the Wizengamot to vote in their favour.
Those who committed lesser crimes were given two choices: Spend their sentence in the overcrowded Azkaban, or work in a newly opened brothel. Of course, they all chose the latter.
Except it wasn’t a choice. It was forced sex work — or rape, to put it plainly — and it was deplorable.
When Hermione pointed this out and compared them to Voldemort, Kingsley threatened to make her an employee of the sex establishment. Harry and Ron remained silent, effectively choosing Kingsley's side without saying a word.
Hermione felt betrayed by her former best friends, and helpless to the situation. There was nothing she could do.
Their falling out, and Hermione’s lack of support for the new rulings, was public knowledge. So, she shouldn’t have been surprised when a week later, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and Theo Nott showed up at her flat.
They begged her to somehow help their friend — who was also her former bully and enemy — Draco Malfoy.
They gave her information about the brothel that had been swept under the rug.
The employees/prisoners were not given all of the facts when they agreed to work at the brothel. It was more than just sex — whoever bought their time could essentially do anything they wanted to them. Sometimes they were lucky, and the witch or wizard would buy them because they were lonely and wanted someone to talk to. Although often than not, the sex was rough or they would get beaten or Crucioed.
They were not receiving proper medical treatment or nutritional meals. Even if they wanted to change their mind and go to Azkaban, they couldn’t. Everything was final.
Those who stayed neutral or were Voldemort sympathizers, but didn’t commit any crimes during the war, were not allowed in to the brothel. Every patron was checked for disguises, so the three former Slytherins couldn't sneak in to check on their friend.
Narcissa Malfoy also worked there. After one day, her son begged Kingsley to let her go free. In exchange, Malfoy would serve her sentence. It was ridiculous, of course. But Harry had a soft spot for Narcissa for lying to Voldemort, and he loathed Malfoy. So they allowed it.
Hermione, unable to even allow her school tormentor to be treated so horrifically, agreed to help. At least she was doing something.
Their plan was fairly simply. Hermione would pretend to change her opinion about the brothel, so she could buy her bully and degrade and hurt him. No one would bat an eye at her need for revenge against Malfoy. Blaise, Pansy and Theo even gave her the money.
The first night she saw Malfoy, three months after the final battle, Hermione had to hold back her gasp. He looked haunted. His skin was sallow and his cheeks were hollow. She couldn’t tell if he had black eyes, or if they purple from exhaustion. His arms, torso and face were littered with contusions, cuts and burns.
What stood out just as much as his injuries were his eyes. The light within them had been snuffed out, replaced with an overwhelming darkness that was devoid of any hope.
Hermione later learned that Draco was a favourite at the brothel. Many took issue with the Malfoys, either because they were such strong Voldemort supporters or because they wronged so many people. Lucius had been given the kiss, so it was his son who had to take all of the rage from the wizarding community.
Between his own sentence and Narcissa’s additional years he took on, Malfoy would be stuck there for ten years. It was obvious he wouldn’t make it that long. Either he would die from the violence he was enduring, or he would kill himself. Two things that had already happened to other ‘employees.’
“You can do whatever you want to me, Granger. I won’t put up a fight,” Draco uttered in a low, weary, voice as he stared at the floor.
Hermione carefully explained the true reason why she was there, and that he could relax and rest whenever she was with him. When she finished speaking, he collapsed to his knees and sobbed.
For the first week they remained silent during their time together. Whenever she met his eye, he would look away. It felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, that this was all a new way to torture him.
The second week, and for many after, they slowly began to talk. Only about safe topics, such as school subjects, his mother and friends. Hermione even kept him updated on his favourite quidditch team.
After a month he apologized for how he treated her, and she immediately accepted.
“You’re mental,” he had replied, but the corner of his mouth was quirked slightly upward. It was the first time she had seen any form of happiness in him.
Over months, they developed a bond, and Draco came out of his shell. What began as tentative acquaintances eventually became very good friends.
After six months, Hermione Granger knew without a doubt that she was madly and unequivocally in love with Draco Malfoy.
She wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, although there was no denying they had formed some sort of connection. Hermione also refused to share her feelings, or make any sort of move, not wanting him to feel pressured to be more than friends. Not with what he was going through.
One night as she was mid rant about creature rights, he kissed her. It was cautious and gentle, yet it was the best kiss she ever had.
A few weeks later she arrived at the brothel and put on the regular show of roughly dragging him to a room, to keep up appearances. Once the door was closed, locked, and silenced, he picked her up, pressed her against the wall and snogged her breathless.
Hermione wasn’t a virgin by any means. She had slept with three other men before, and every experience felt careless and empty. She had been fucked, and settled for it.
That night was entirely different. Clothes were quickly thrown aside as they stumbled to bed. Hands and mouths explored one another until they discovered what made them gasp and moan. Then, after checking in with each other several times, they made love.
Hermione always thought that sounded so corny. She never understood — it was just sex. That changed the moment he pushed into her.
It was as if she had been a matchstick, and Draco engulfed her in fire. Every touch created a new spark within her. Every kiss and suck a new flame.
It was always like that from that point on. Every second was filled with adoration, reverence, worship, and love.
Leaving him there made Hermione physically ill. She had begun going every single night just to give him a break from the horrors. The only thing that kept her sane were Draco’s eyes. Life and light had slowly started to return to them, and she would do anything to keep it there.
Unfortunately, her daily hours long visits did not go unnoticed.
Hermione arrived one evening to find Draco almost beaten to death. He looked even worse than that first day.
“If we ever see you near here again, Hermione, we will slit his throat and make you watch him bleed out. Then you will finish Malfoy’s sentence,” Harry cruelly spat.
Hermione was inconsolable. She should have been more careful. Shame filled her veins like poison.
After a couple of days — and a stern pep talk from Pansy — her guilt and misery became white hot burning fury.
Neville and Luna, who were secretly dating Draco’s friends, gave them information about the brothel they had discovered. Then they formed a plan.
Everything was going smoothly, they were so close to getting Draco out — until Ron unexpectedly showed up. He never came to the brothel.
It all quickly went to shit, and they were caught. Ron dragged Hermione and Draco towards the back, yelling and making wild threats about how he would torture and kill them.
When he pulled them out the back door, Ron immediately let go of them.
“I came here tonight to check on Malfoy, and see if there was anything I could do for him. Of course I find you already helping him escape,” Ron grumbled as he ran a hand through his hair.
Then he gave Hermione a piercing stare.
“You two need to leave. Get out of the country. Harry and Kingsley have lost the damn plot. This isn’t the way the wizarding world should be, this isn’t what we fought for. Not what Fred died for—” Ron’s voice cracked and he squeezed his eyes shut. After a moment he opened them and gave his head a shake. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t expect either of you to forgive me. The only way I can show how remorseful I am is by letting you escape. But you have to go, now.”
Hermione threw her arms around Ron, almost knocking him over. When she pulled back, Draco glared at the ginger wizard, then held his hand out to shake. Ron let out a large breath and took it.
With Ron’s permission, Draco (a little too enthusiastically), gave Ron a black eye and a broken nose, and Hermione stunned him.
Narcissa had cleaned out the Malfoy and Black family Gringotts vaults months ago, and moved to France. So, thankfully, it gave Hermione and Draco a place to go.
Kingsley and Harry did everything they could to try and get them deported back to Britain. Fortunately, the French Ministry strongly disagreed with how prisoners were being treated, and refused their requests. They granted Hermione and Draco asylum.
Once Draco physically healed, they moved to a cottage of their own in the French countryside. Draco clearly had PTSD, and was plagued by flashbacks and nightmares. During one flashback he gave Hermione a bloody nose. Of course she didn’t blame him, but after that he agreed to see a mind healer.
The trauma would live within him forever, but as time passed, Draco began to heal.
Blaise, Pansy, and Theo all visited, although they had to be careful not to lead the British Aurors to Draco and Hermione. Ron even wrote coded letters to them, as he believed they were being intercepted and read.
Unfortunately, things remained the same in Wizarding Britain. At the very least, Ron was never caught for helping them escape. Eventually he resigned and started working at the joke shop with George. He got tired of trying to change Kingsley and Harry decisions, and nothing he did could prevent the damage they were inflicting.
Living as a fugitive was less than ideal. Sometimes Hermione craved the feeling of being at home. Yet seeing the light return to Draco’s eyes made it all worth it. And she realized that it didn’t matter where they were.
Draco was her home.