TW: brief implied reference to child abuse.

The letter Hermione was dreading arrived the very next day.

Hermione,

We would be ever so pleased if you would join us at the Burrow on Saturday for the remainder of the summer holidays. Please let us know by return owl if you need Arthur and me to come fetch you.

Molly

Three days.

Hermione had three days to perfect her legilimency in order to complete her task for the Dark Lord or they would all suffer the consequences.

“Can’t you just send a letter back asking for a bit more time?” Theo asked between slow bites of his toast. After the events of the night before they all had felt a little shaky and unwell.

Hermione shook her head before passing the letter to Lucius’ proffered hand.

“I never have before…” she started, exchanging a look with Draco as he piled fruit onto her plate.

“It is best that Hermione continues as she usually would,” Lucius said, placing the parchment down on the table.

Narcissa murmured in agreement, dabbing at her lips delicately with a napkin before placing it beside her.

“Theo, would you mind assisting us this morning?” she asked, her gaze moving between him and Hermione.

“I’m happy to help!” Theo enthused.

Draco shifted uncomfortably beside Hermione.

“Mother I would like to help as well…” he said cautiously.

Narcissa gave her son a warm smile, her blue eyes twinkling in the morning light.

“I know you would, darling. However, I think you may find that you’d prefer for Hermione not to be rooting around in your mind – and she may feel the same way.”

Hermione nodded, pushing the bits of fruit around on her plate as if they would disappear. It was true, though she felt closer to Theo for all the help… he had been allowing her inside his relatively untrained mind and she always felt a twinge of guilt at seeing his innermost thoughts and memories.

“Also – and this is in no offense to you Theo, dear – your occlumency is much more advanced than Theo’s.”

Theo didn’t look bothered in the slightest, merely shrugged before taking the last sips of his tea. Hermione was glad to see that Draco also looked appeased.

As they left for the sun room, Draco gave Hermione a chaste kiss to her lips before kissing her bracelet, then left with his father for a round of dueling practice.

Narcissa settled Hermione and Theo in their opposing chairs and Hermione took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come.

“Now darling, remember this is just practice. I don’t want you to actually create space in Theo’s mind, but we will go through the actions of it, yes? Anything you may do accidentally we will need to fix. Do you understand?”

Hermione nodded, swallowing loudly.

“I trust you,” Theo said softly, reaching across to grab her hand.

She took a deep breath and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Ready?”

Theo nodded and she bridged the connection.

As always, Theo’s mind was a mix of color and light. Though he’d been practicing occlumency for longer than her, albeit without realizing, the only thing he had truly organized were his memories and fears – he was unable to create a physical self within his mind to greet her.

Slowly she made her way through the wind tunnel of thoughts and emotions trying not to focus on any in particular. However, his worry and fear were on the forefront, so present she could taste it – metallic and bitter in her mouth.

As she wandered through his mind, moving deeper into his consciousness, she noticed the obvious signs of occlumency. He had a large trunk pushed against what appeared to be a stone wall. She gave it a wide berth, finding a place that looked untouched by anything but his subconscious.

The area was dark and drafty with misty spiderwebs of memories.

“This is where I would create the hole,” she said aloud, not just in her mental voice.

With one of her fingers she traced in a circular motion, creating a golden wreath at the spot so Narcissa could find it after – not only checking her work but for any sign of accidental damage.

A hand closed over her, squeezing painfully. She yelped; her mental form spun on the spot. Looming over her was a tall, angular man – his features so dark they were almost in shadow. A mop of curly brown hair tangled around his face that appeared strangely bloated to the rest of him and stuck to his sweating forehead.

“You filthy, miserable little muggle lover,” he shrieked, landing a bone shattering blow to her face and forcing her to fly across the darkness.

She landed on a plush rug in a room she didn’t recognize. A large emerald tapestry hung from one wall while a darkly draped window cast an odd light into the room through the fabric. There was a fire roaring in the large hearth beside her and the staccato crackles and pops made her think of the sound of bones breaking.

Beside her crouched a small boy, no more than eight years old, clutching his arm that hung at a strange angle. She could see fat tears shining on his round cheeks peeking through his chestnut curls that bounced with the effort he was using not to make a sound.

“Such a disappointment,” the man slurred, weaving towards them. A decanter of firewhisky glimmered in the light from the candles. “ Reading . Muggles. ” He waved a lazy hand towards the fire and Hermione noticed a number of children’s books in the flames.

With a roar the man came closer, rearing his fist back to slap the boy but Hermione surged up catching him by the wrist.

“You. Will. Not,” she seethed.

The man’s glassy eyes grew wide as he wrenched out of her grip, spit flying across her cheeks as he stuttered in rage.

“You… you …” he wheezed.

There was a knock on the door and the man turned, his robes catching in the grate of the fire making him stumble a bit. After a moment, the door burst open and a younger looking Lucius strode into the room, his grey eyes dancing in the firelight.

“We must be going now, Nott,” Lucius said smoothly, his eyes moving over the bloated face of the man before settling on the crouching boy. “What’s happened here?”

Nott Sr. gestured again with the decanter, a bit of the amber liquid splashing onto the carpet.

“Caught him reading . Some muggle fairy book his blood traitor of an aunt sent him.” He spat on the ground. “Disgusting.”

Though Lucius’ face remained cold, something flashed in his eyes.

“Quite. How would you feel if I took the boy?” His voice was careful, controlled. “Narcissa and I would be happy to… whip him into shape.”

Nott Sr.’s eyes twinkled in delight as he staggered to a chair.

“Take him. Keep him for all I care. That boy’s a failure if ever I saw one, not fit to wipe his nose in this house.”

Lucius hummed in acknowledgement, crossing the room in three great strides. Though his face betrayed nothing, Hermione couldn’t help but notice the gentle way he drew the boy into his arms, careful not to jostle the hurt arm.

Without another word to the drunken man already beginning to doze in the chair, Lucius turned and strode from the room. Hermione hurried after him but the moment she stepped through the door darkness swallowed her.

She blinked a few times in the bright morning light, her sweating hands gripping the arms of the chair she sat in. Across from her Theo was doing the same, tears sparkling on his cheeks.

“Oh Theo ,” she cried, throwing her arms around him.

“What… what happened?” He sniffled, pressing his face into her shoulder.

“I don’t know… I don’t know. That was terrible . Was that a real memory?”

She felt him nod against her shoulder.

“I think so. It was the last time I properly saw my father… when Lucius took me to live here.”

Narcissa’s quiet steps grew closer as she placed a comforting hand on both of their shoulders.

“A broken arm, two fractured ribs, a mild concussion and a few bruises,” Narcissa said in a soft voice. “He hasn’t returned to the Nott Estate since.”

Theo tapped Hermione and she allowed him to sit back in the chair, red splotches covered his cheeks and his green eyes were bright and glassy with tears. He sniffed a few times before pulling a handkerchief from a pocket and wiping his face. Hermione wiped her own cheeks with the back of her hand, keeping the other on his knee.

“I would assume that when you marked your place, his mind reacted defensively,” Narcissa explained. “It threw up a memory to frighten you.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide.

“Do you think that will happen with Harry?”

Narcissa pursed her lips, passing Theo a cup of strong tea.

“I don’t think so. Mr. Potter is untrained, more than likely his mind will have no inkling of your presence and therefore will not react to the intrusion. Theo’s mind knows how to protect itself and therefore his magic comes to his defense. Mr. Potter’s will not.”

She couldn’t help the guilt that squirmed inside her as Narcissa knelt beside Theo and began to inspect the place Hermione had marked in his mind, removing the marking as well, once she was finished.

“Very good, darling. Remember, your intention is not to harm the boy’s mind, only to create space. The Dark Lord will do the rest.”

Hermione swallowed, blinking back the tears that still clung in her eyes.

That was what she was worried about.