Hermione didn’t know what to do. Part of her wanted to fling Ginny from the bed and press the bracelet into her skin to retreat to the Manor, sure that any moment the other Weasleys would barge through the bedroom door demanding she pay for her loyalties. The other part wanted to pull her friend closer and sob.

The second part won out.

Hermione clung to Ginny, thick tears streaming down her cheeks to turn her hair a dark amber. Ginny held her just as close, running a comforting hand down her back. She didn’t try to shush her, didn’t say anything. Just held her as she cried.

She cried for Harry, whom she knowingly betrayed in hopes of a better world – a better life.

She cried for Draco, whom she missed more than words could describe.

She cried for Theo, who had never known a moment's kindness until the Malfoys took him in – only to have his father beat him down with words once more.

But most of all, she cried for herself. For the lies she had to tell. For the mask she now found she had to wear in a place that in another life would have been her second home. For the fear she felt for the side of her that had enjoyed torturing Dolohov, that seemed to crave the dark magic that surrounded her new master. For the pointed looks and backhanded compliments she received from those on the “light” side of the wizarding world. The looks of surprise when they found out she was a muggle born.

But surely not, brilliant witch like you, aren’t you related to Hector Dagworth-Granger the celebrated potioneer?

When Hermione’s sobs quieted, Ginny began to speak. But it still wasn’t words of comfort.

She began to tell Hermione about how, last year, she had found Theo in the library one night reading a quidditch magazine by himself. After years of long looks and secret smiles, Ginny couldn’t take it anymore. She’d stormed up to him, slammed her hand on the magazine, and demanded to know why he refused to ask her out.

“I’d wanted to know if it was because he’d just been amusing himself by flirting with me or if it was because my family were blood traitors – if he thought I wasn’t good enough for him,” Ginny said in a voice barely above a whisper.

He’d kissed her with a hunger Ginny had never experienced before. Theo had poured all his wants and desires into the kiss. Heartache born from watching her date other blokes only for her to throw them away because they didn’t challenge her or appreciate her. Wanting to be the wizard he knew could sweep her off her feet, who could keep up with her quick wit and sharp tongue. Who could smooth out her rougher edges with his kindness while she would strengthen his confidence with her charisma, rather than him always hiding behind humor.

“When was this?” Hermione asked.

“October,” Ginny replied.

Hermione’s brows pulled together.

“But… weren’t you with Michael Corner?”

Ginny shrugged, unphased by the fact that she’d snogged another boy while in a relationship.

“ Barely , all Michael ever did was complain about the Gryffindor quidditch team and his position in the Gobstones Club! Gobstones , Hermione! I ask you!” Ginny seethed. “I kept up the charade with Michael as a cover, but after a while I thought I was going to permanently bat bogey hex him so I broke it off.”

Hermione thought for a long time. October… That meant all this time Theo and Ginny had been together and she’d never known.

“But then… why didn’t Theo tell me? Why didn’t you?”

Ginny grimaced, her face falling a bit.

“At first, we didn’t want to say anything because we weren’t sure if it would work… you know? I had no idea about you and Draco, Hermione. I knew he had secrets – the way he would catch himself when telling me a story or the way his face would go blank when I mentioned you.”

“Occlumency,” Hermione provided and Ginny nodded.

“Yeah, I know now. He’s been teaching me; said you’d help me while we were home.”

“Of course I will, Gin.”

Ginny smiled, brushing a wayward curl off Hermione’s forehead.

“So… when did it change?” Hermione asked after a moment.

“You remember that letter you brought me during Christmas?”

Hermione nodded.

“He was telling me that he didn’t want to hide this from you anymore – or from Draco. I assume he’s told Draco since you left. I’d asked him to let me be the one to speak with you. After the holiday, I took an unbreakable vow that I wouldn’t speak a word of what you were doing with anyone outside of you, Theo, or Draco without your permission.”

Hermione’s eyebrows raised.

“Who was your bonder?”

Ginny rolled her eyes, groaning a bit.

“ Snape . Of all people.”

Hermione only hummed her understanding.

“But then he told me everything,” Ginny continued. “I have to say, Mione – I was shocked at first. But the more I thought about it the more it made sense.”

“What made sense?”

Ginny shrugged, tugging on a curl watching it spring back.

“You’ve never been someone to back down without a fight or to shy away from proving something – or someone - is wrong. It made sense to me that you’d join the Dark Lord to prove to him that muggleborns were the same.”

Ginny appeared to think for another long moment.

“Our whole lives we’re taught that by being wizards we’re inherently better. Those of us who are born into magical families grow up either pitying, hating – or pitying and hating – muggleborns. I see it in the way mum speaks to you, the way Ron seems to think he’s got a right to you. Or dad’s weird fascination with muggles – like they’re pygmy puffs to be collected and looked at.

“I can only imagine how it felt, after living the first few years of your magical life as a second-class citizen, to have a powerful family take you in and treat you as equal. Then on top of that, to have a powerful wizard see potential in you.”

“The Dark Lord told me I’ve made him see things differently about muggleborns…” Hermione said quietly.

Ginny gaped at her.

“That’s… wow… Hermione.”

Hermione couldn’t help but grin back.

“I think I might do some real good, Gin. I think with him there’s an opportunity to be so much… more .”

Though Ginny looked worried and not as confident as Hermione, she nodded.

“It’s hard being here, isn’t it?” Ginny asked.

Hermione’s face fell, the light in her eyes dimming.

“You have no idea…” she answered distantly.

Ginny held her close, tucking her head against the older girl’s shoulder.

“Let me help you then, however you need. You don’t need to go through this alone.”

Hermione wished she had the words to tell her friend how much that meant to her.

She would not go through this alone.