It's alright, I don't let it bother me any more. I try not to, at least. If they want to call me a mudblood then they can - I'm proud of who I am and where I came from and I have shown them, over and over, that I am just as strong and smart as the lot of them. My blood doesn't change that, nor does what they did to me.
[ The silence makes her panic, makes her heart rush in her chest, and she tries her best not to let it get to her. She knows it's a big deal, she knows that it's an issue, and she tries to fight to not let it hurt her. It's an ugly thing, even if she had reclaimed the word - mudblood and proud - and understanding that it might be there forever is hard for her.
After putting her phone down and curling up with Helga, she startles when she hears the voice at the door, sitting up quickly. Rolling down her sleeves and pushing her hair up and out of her face she goes, opening the door and ushering Eggsy with a hand on his arm; he must be freezing and she's scolding despite her red eyes and damp cheeks. ]
Are you absolutely mental? It's a blizzard, Eggsy!
[ In hindsight, he probably should have told her he was coming over so not to worry her. But rarely does Eggsy thinks through and he's here now, practically being blown into Hermione's apartment. He takes one look at her face and has to hug her. It's why he came over anyway but the fact that she's been crying makes him want to hug her even more.
So as soon as the front door is closed, Eggsy's holding her, one arm wrapped tight around her waist, one hand cupping the back of her head, burying his face into her neck.
He's probably the worst person to be hugging right now because he's so cold but it's the only way he can respond to the image he sent in a way that isn't rage over the idea of someone being sick enough to scar her. There's also that fear that maybe she did it to herself. ]
[ She wants to scold him, she wants to smack his shoulder and tell him off for how utterly ridiculous he's being, but she doesn't really have the will or the energy. Admittedly, Hermione feels awful for showing him, for dragging this out, for shoving them at him when they were joking around and having fun, but if they were going to do things together (which she knows they are, there were promises made and she wants to, she does) he'd have seen the scar eventually and she would have had to explain...
Her arms wrap around him tight, leaning close and squeezing at him, letting him press his face into her, letting him hold on.
For all that he might be cold, for all that the frost is probably making his hands ice against her, she doesn't care. She grips at him, pulls him closer and holds him, turning her head to press against his - her nose is squashed but that hardly matters. She just grips, fighting back a fresh set of tears. ]
[ Eggsy doesn't know how long he hugs her for, long enough for some heat to be generated between them from their bodies being together. Even when Eggsy means to pull away, he doesn't move far - all he wants is to be close to her right now. He draws back enough so he can see her face and she can see his, but keeps one arm around her still, his free hand moving to cup one of her damp cheeks.
There's things he wants to say, to ask, but he has a strong urge to kiss her better. He's not naive enough to think kisses can fix everything - it won't erase the scar on her arm, as much as he wants it to - but he's far better at physically comforting someone. So, he leans in to give her a kiss that's both soothing and gentle. It's probably surprising coming from someone like him, to have him be so caring when he dresses like someone a lot of people would judge as an uncaring hooligan if they saw walking down the street. Of course, anyone who actually knows him well should know this isn't the case. Eggsy actually cares a lot about people, particularly when he forms a bond with them. A strong bond is forming between him and Hermione already, despite how different their worlds are. ]
[ She can feel him warm against her, as her body heat spreads and offers him something to help battle the cold. She holds on to him because she's terrified to let go, terrified that if she does he might ask to see it in person, that she might have to explain more of the story - she lives in fear of what he might say if he really saw it, a disgusting brand against her skin forever.
It's easier when he kisses her; she can lift her arms to slip them around his neck, to draw him close and squeeze her eyes shut as she returns it, to lean up and give in to the simplicity of it. He wants to make her feel better and she knows that, pressing back into the touch of their lips with a passion that surprises her a little - it makes her feel better, it warms her, and she takes it for what it is from him: comfort and tenderness, something real and tangible as the understanding of what she'd faced crashes down around them. This, she thinks, might be the worst of all the things he could learn about her and a kiss is much better than talking about that, especially when she pauses to breathe out against his mouth, hesitating before she takes another, a little harder this time. ]
[ Eggsy doesn't expect the kiss to be as passionate as it becomes. Everything about the relationship that's forming between him and Hermione is surprising to Eggsy, though. He manages to lift Hermione up onto her tiptoes with how much he's holding her tightly against him, responding to that little bit of vigor she puts into the kiss before Eggsy's finally pulling back to rest his forehead against hers. He's shaking a little but it's unclear whether it's from the cold or from the anger he'd felt - is feeling - from seeing a degrading scar possibly inflicted by some vile person on someone so good and kind. ]
Do you want to talk about it? [ He asks in a hushed tone, his eyes searching hers. ] You don't have to right now, I just... I needed to see whether you were okay. [ He strokes his thumb against her cheek. ] Are you?
[ When he leans back she makes to chase his lips, to try and silence him with kisses rather than letting him speak and bring their focus back to the matter at hand - almost literally. His forehead touches hers and Hermione purses her lips, eyes closed tight, pushing away the urge to let the tears fall again. She hadn't had much time to deal with the scar at home, too busy fighting, but here, in a city? She has the nightmares, the dreams, the memories. She deals because she has to and she doesn't want to consider what it means that she can't ignore it, despite the pride she has in knowing who she is.
Arms move, carefully, and slide around his body, holding him close as she draws in a long breath. ] I was tortured. She held me down and she used a spell to torture me. When the torture didn't make me give her the information she wanted that came next. [ The scar. An eternal reminder of the hatred so many people had. ] I'm okay now, it was months ago. It's just - if we were going to be together, even just for a sleepover, you'd see it.
[ Eggsy can see what she almost tries to do and he's glad when she chooses to talk to him instead, because if she had continued to kiss him, he only would have wondered if she was doing it for the right reasons - because she wanted to, or to distract him. He wouldn't normally mind being distracted in such a way but this was serious... ]
Fuck.
[ It's even worse than Eggsy thought. Tortured, even before she got the scar. Hermione was so brave, so loyal to not tell her torturer anything and suffer in silence instead - or had she screamed? Eggsy doesn't want to think about it. It makes him feel sick thinking about it...
(He'd do the same for Kingsman.)
She probably remembers it like it was yesterday. He can see why she warned him; telling him now would make things less awkward later on. He just hopes she doesn't think he won't want to touch her now or something stupid like that. Everyone had scars in a way; some people just had internal ones you couldn't see, like Eggsy's. ]
Please tell me she's rotting in prison for life. [ Or better yet - she's dead. He really doesn't want to hear that the woman got away with it, that she's out there somewhere living a happy life. She needed to pay for what she did, if she hadn't already. ]
[ He swears and while Hermione is really not the type of person for bad language she can appreciate the fact that now might well be an apt time. There's not much to be said in return for "I was tortured" other than a mixture of grief or pity, she thinks, so the anger makes her a little relieved. At least he's not trying to tell her it's okay, because it's not and it is all at once. She's grown up a little and accepted it as much as she can.
She's not the only one who suffered, after all.
Leaning back, her eyes glance up at him and she gives herself a few moments, centring herself, before she swallows and breathes out. This is fresher, she thinks, than anything else; this and the Battle, losing Harry, the panic. ]
We escaped from the House and then some other things happened, we had to go back to our school to fight in a war. I duelled her there, but it was a friend's mother that killed her. She's gone, now.
[ After Hermione had been forced to Polyjuice into her, of course. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. ]
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you can tell me
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hermione...
tell me
please
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Mudblood.
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what's that mean? like, dirty blood?
why would someone call you that?
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My parents aren't magical, so I'm muggleborn. People with 'pure' blood don't really like that very much.
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what the fuck is wrong with people
I'm sorry you have to deal with that shit
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what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, yeah?
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Does this mean I might be allowed a few more kisses?
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I'd give you a hundred
but not for that word
fuck that word
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There's something I have to tell you.
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photo attachment ]
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He really doesn't.
He's going to have to go straight over to Hermione's place and wait outside in the freezing cold until she opens up. ]
Hermione? [ He calls her name loud enough for her to hear through the door so she knows it's him. ]
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After putting her phone down and curling up with Helga, she startles when she hears the voice at the door, sitting up quickly. Rolling down her sleeves and pushing her hair up and out of her face she goes, opening the door and ushering Eggsy with a hand on his arm; he must be freezing and she's scolding despite her red eyes and damp cheeks. ]
Are you absolutely mental? It's a blizzard, Eggsy!
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So as soon as the front door is closed, Eggsy's holding her, one arm wrapped tight around her waist, one hand cupping the back of her head, burying his face into her neck.
He's probably the worst person to be hugging right now because he's so cold but it's the only way he can respond to the image he sent in a way that isn't rage over the idea of someone being sick enough to scar her. There's also that fear that maybe she did it to herself. ]
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Her arms wrap around him tight, leaning close and squeezing at him, letting him press his face into her, letting him hold on.
For all that he might be cold, for all that the frost is probably making his hands ice against her, she doesn't care. She grips at him, pulls him closer and holds him, turning her head to press against his - her nose is squashed but that hardly matters. She just grips, fighting back a fresh set of tears. ]
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There's things he wants to say, to ask, but he has a strong urge to kiss her better. He's not naive enough to think kisses can fix everything - it won't erase the scar on her arm, as much as he wants it to - but he's far better at physically comforting someone. So, he leans in to give her a kiss that's both soothing and gentle. It's probably surprising coming from someone like him, to have him be so caring when he dresses like someone a lot of people would judge as an uncaring hooligan if they saw walking down the street. Of course, anyone who actually knows him well should know this isn't the case. Eggsy actually cares a lot about people, particularly when he forms a bond with them. A strong bond is forming between him and Hermione already, despite how different their worlds are. ]
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It's easier when he kisses her; she can lift her arms to slip them around his neck, to draw him close and squeeze her eyes shut as she returns it, to lean up and give in to the simplicity of it. He wants to make her feel better and she knows that, pressing back into the touch of their lips with a passion that surprises her a little - it makes her feel better, it warms her, and she takes it for what it is from him: comfort and tenderness, something real and tangible as the understanding of what she'd faced crashes down around them. This, she thinks, might be the worst of all the things he could learn about her and a kiss is much better than talking about that, especially when she pauses to breathe out against his mouth, hesitating before she takes another, a little harder this time. ]
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Do you want to talk about it? [ He asks in a hushed tone, his eyes searching hers. ] You don't have to right now, I just... I needed to see whether you were okay. [ He strokes his thumb against her cheek. ] Are you?
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Arms move, carefully, and slide around his body, holding him close as she draws in a long breath. ] I was tortured. She held me down and she used a spell to torture me. When the torture didn't make me give her the information she wanted that came next. [ The scar. An eternal reminder of the hatred so many people had. ] I'm okay now, it was months ago. It's just - if we were going to be together, even just for a sleepover, you'd see it.
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Fuck.
[ It's even worse than Eggsy thought. Tortured, even before she got the scar. Hermione was so brave, so loyal to not tell her torturer anything and suffer in silence instead - or had she screamed? Eggsy doesn't want to think about it. It makes him feel sick thinking about it...
(He'd do the same for Kingsman.)
She probably remembers it like it was yesterday. He can see why she warned him; telling him now would make things less awkward later on. He just hopes she doesn't think he won't want to touch her now or something stupid like that. Everyone had scars in a way; some people just had internal ones you couldn't see, like Eggsy's. ]
Please tell me she's rotting in prison for life. [ Or better yet - she's dead. He really doesn't want to hear that the woman got away with it, that she's out there somewhere living a happy life. She needed to pay for what she did, if she hadn't already. ]
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She's not the only one who suffered, after all.
Leaning back, her eyes glance up at him and she gives herself a few moments, centring herself, before she swallows and breathes out. This is fresher, she thinks, than anything else; this and the Battle, losing Harry, the panic. ]
We escaped from the House and then some other things happened, we had to go back to our school to fight in a war. I duelled her there, but it was a friend's mother that killed her. She's gone, now.
[ After Hermione had been forced to Polyjuice into her, of course. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. ]
She's not hurting anyone now.
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