In the weeks following the letter, Hermione does not improve. Nearly every night ends with her curled under her covers, face hot and damp from tears. When she'll finally manage to clear her head enough to fall asleep, her nightmares come back with a vengeance that they haven't had since the war.

Far too often, she'll wake with a pounding heart and a scream beating at her lips even if she'll never willingly let it pass. Sleep won't ever return to her on those nights, and she'll sit for hours in the dark until the sun rises.

Draco hears every second of this.

Hermione knows that he does and, while a small part of her is relieved that he's choosing to leave her alone, a larger part wishes that he would come and comfort her. She shouldn't depend on his comfort, it has come very rarely and they never speak of it, but it's so much easier to breath when someone else carries the weight for a while.

On one particular day, two weeks after the letter arrived, she receives a second.

Hermione's eyes skim the words, but she's hardly made it past the first sentence before tears well up and spill over. The parchment slips through her fingers and drifts to the floor as she drops onto the couch.

Upstairs, Draco hears the wail that falls from her lips and his chest aches. He so wants to go to her, but he can't in fear of what might come out instead of comforting words. Every time he has attempted to help her, he always ends up hurting her more with cruel taunts and an indifferent air. She needs someone to be there for her but he can't do anything but insult her.

Unaware of his struggle, Hermione buries her face in her hands and blocks out the world. She doesn't notice the fireplace come to life until two figures stumble out, covered in a fine layer of soot and gasping at the sight before them.

"Hermione!" A familiar voice cries. The very next moment, Hermione finds herself in the arms of her best friend.

"Ginny? Harry?" Hermione sniffs, rubbing her eyes to staunch the tears and lifting her head. "What are you two doing here?" The tears don't stop. It's all she can do to just sit and let Ginny hold her while the couple looks in concern and fright. As far as they know, Hermione so rarely cries, and for something to have made her crack, they know it must be awful.

"We came to see how you were doing--" Harry stops as Hermione lets out a cry and buries her head in Ginny's shoulder. His eyes blow wide and he makes to go to Hermione, but a piece of parchment near his foot catches his eye.

Ginny rubs gentle circles onto Hermione's back and whispers," Hermione, calm down. Everything is alright. We're with you now, so just tell us what's happened and we can help." Slowly, Hermione's cries fade into small sniffles that come only so often. Ginny gives her an encouraging smile. "Good, you're doing really good, Hermione. Now tell us who hurt you so we can wipe them from existence."

Hermione lets out a choked laugh, then sighs and leans away from Ginny, pulling out of her arms. "I'm fine, Ginny. No one's hurt me. I'm just being emotional and overreacted to some burnt toast," she lies smoothly. Ginny gives her a knowing look.

"I know what you mean," she hisses into Hermione's ear, leaning closer to the girl. "It's about that time for me, as well, and I nearly ripped Harry's head off when he forgot to make the bed this morning." She snickers and looks to Harry, expecting some sort of response, but she finds him reading a letter. His brow creases in concentration, then shoot up in shock while his face floods red.

Hermione notices the sudden silence and turns to Harry. Her gaze lands on the letter in her hand and her heart leaps up in her throat. She doesn't bother trying to get it away. He's already read it. Even still, she attempts to brush over it. "Harry, that's nothing. Give it hear," she pleads in a quiet voice.

After so long of keeping it hidden, they'll finally know the truth. All because she couldn't control herself enough to take the letter to her room.

"It's not what you think, Harry, believe me, it isn't," she tries again. It's no use, the proof is right in his hands. Ginny's brow furrows as she stands up and goes to read the letter over his shoulder.

""I know that I've already said it, but I want to thank you again for not telling anyone that I struck you on our wedding day"," Harry quotes from the letter, then looks up at Hermione. "It's exactly what I think!" he spits. "Why didn't you tell us this? I'm your best friend, Hermione! Don't you think I, of all people, should have known about this? I could have gotten him arrested, and then you wouldn't ever have to be bothered by him again!" He's pacing anxiously around the room, expression twisted into one of dark rage. Ginny jogs along beside him, trying to finish reading, but she looks rather ill.

Hermione fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, pulling at a loose thread. "That's exactly why I couldn't tell you, or anyone," she mumbles. "You would have gone to the authorities and then the entire wizarding world would have known and I didn't want that. I never wanted that." She jumps off the sofa and rushes forward. "You can't tell anyone about this, Harry. If anyone finds out that I was weak enough to let him...do what he did, I don't think I could manage to show my face in public again," Hermione whispers, grabbing his hand as he paces past her.

He jerks to a halt and Ginny crashes into his back. Fed up, she snatches the letter out of his hands and finishes reading it. Harry pays her no mind and places his own warm hands over Hermione's, moving closer to her.

"You aren't weak," Harry murmurs, the waves of anger suddenly calming. "You can't help what he did." He shudders and narrows his eyes, all firm business again. "If he isn't put away, then he'll keep writing you. If you think he'll stop there, then you've gone mad. You know as well as I do that he'll be sure to keep at this."

"Please, Harry," Hermione whispers. "Do this for me." She watches as duty and love for his friend wage in his eyes, then Ginny leans in to speak quietly in his ear. Her face is as crimson as her hair and her eyes dart between the letter and Hermione. Harry leans over to respond to whatever she's said before they both turn their focus back on their friend. All the while, Hermione is twisting her hands and worrying her lip.

He raises his head, jaw set, before letting out a sigh. "We won't tell anyone," he agrees. Hermione nearly bursts into tears again with the relief, but he isn't done speaking. "On two conditions."

At his side, Ginny is ripping apart the letter and tossing the tattered remains into the fire, much like Hermione had wanted to do with the first letter. Hermione flashes a grateful, albeit watery, smile.

"I'll do anything for this to stay a secret," Hermione says in a rush.

"You have to promise that if you ever feel like you did when we arrived today then you'll come to us and let us help you," he replies.

Hermione wonders to herself if this would be a promise she could keep. She's hidden her pain for so long that it's like second nature and to do differently would be akin to learning to writing with her opposite hand; Both challenging and awkward. But she supposes that if she wants to keep her past a secret than she'll have to agree and make the attempt to keep it.

With some hesitancy, she says, "I promise that I will."

Harry grins and pulls her into a tight hug, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. "We'll always be here for you, Hermione. But we can't do anything to help if you don't tell us what's wrong and let us in."

Her chest feels like it'll burst with the love she feels for her two friends, warm and swelling around her heart. They're always so good to her no matter what she does to them. Blinking away another wave of tears, she asks with a thick voice, "what's the second condition?"

Over her shoulder, Harry and Ginny share a look, before they nod in agreement with each other. Ginny speaks this time. "The second condition is that you have to write back to Ronald."