AN: Honestly, I have no idea what's happening here. At all. Title is crap, and therefore temporary. Any suggestions for a better one are beyond welcome. Same for the summary.
"Draco!"
His head whipped up, turning to face the one who addressed him.
"Yes, my Lord?"
He silently pleaded, "don't make me do it. Please, please, don't make me do it!"
"I think perhaps it's time for out guest to be leaving. Dispose of him."
"My Lord," he stuttered, worst fears confirmed, "please don't make me. Please my Lord, I, I can't, I can't do this."
The Dark Lord fixed him with a cold stare. "Kill. Him. Draco." he spat.
Draco looked to his father, eyes pleading, but the man looked away. Draco turned his gaze to the wood of the table in front of him, remaining silent.
"Pathetic. Your son is weak, Lucius. Perhaps a night somewhere less pleasant will toughen him up. There is space in your dungeons, is there not?"
Lucius looked to the Dark Lord, horrified, but muttered compliance. Draco found himself pulled up by strong hands that gripped his arms.
"Father! Mother!" he cried as he was pulled away, but neither said anything.
Hermione had been imprisoned in the Malfoy dungeon for over a week now. She and the boys had just arrived at a new campsite, and she hadn't had time to set up the wards when the snatchers pounced. Somehow Harry and Ron had managed to escape them, but she hadn't been so lucky. They'd brought her here; taken her wand; tortured her for information on Harry's whereabouts, and when she'd refused to speak, no matter what they did to her, she was thrown into the dungeons.
When she'd first come in, she found Ollivander and Luna Lovegood, but they were separated from her by iron bars that split the dungeon in two. A few days ago someone from upstairs had taken Ollivander, and he hadn't returned. She and Luna were huddled against each other for comfort and warmth, bars between them, when they heard someone coming down the stairs into her half of the chamber.
"Go, hide in the shadows!" Luna whispered, as she herself drew back from the bars.
Muffled cries of protest grew louder. "No, you can't do this! Let me go!"
The door was opened, and someone was thrown in, the door slammed shut again.
Whoever it was pounded against the wood. "Please, let me out!"
Hermione thought she recognised the voice, and besides, if whoever it was was here, they were obviously not on the side of Voldemort. "Hello," she called out, "who's there?"
There was a moment of silence, then the voice replied. "Granger?"
Her heart sunk. She did know that voice, but what on earth was Draco Malfoy doing, trapped in his father's dungeons?
"Granger, is that really you?"
She didn't say a word, kept hidden in the shadows, but he was walking over to where she sat curled on the hard stone.
"Granger, where are - oh my god!"
He had seen her, and she knew she looked awful. She was starving, her clothes were filthy, and there was dirt and blood smeared over through her hair and over her face. She had bruises across her cheek and down her neck, and that was only what he could see.
"Granger, what happened to you?" He said as he continued to come closer.
"No, Malfoy, back off!" He kept coming closer. "Malfoy, I'm serious -"
"Granger, I'm not going to -"
Her voice raised, and started to take on a frantic note.
"Malfoy, please, just go away. I don't want you here, and I don't need -
"HERMIONE!" She stopped, shocked that he'd used her name, and shouted it at her.
"I'm not going to hurt you. I just, I mean, are you, are you okay?"
She scoffed. "What do you think?"
He didn't say anything, but sat down on the floor, an arms length away from her.
"Why are you here?"
He didn't say anything for a moment, but when he spoke his voice was quiet; shaky.
"I refused to kill a man."
She sucked in a harsh breath, equally shocked that this boy, and he was just that, had been ordered to kill a man, and that he had refused.
"How long have you been here?" His voice took on a harsher note as he continued. "Why didn't your stupidly-Gryffindor boys keep you safe?"
Indignant, she faced him and replied, "Snatchers found us. I was supposed to put up the wards, but I wasn't quick enough. It wasn't their fault."
He didn't speak after that.
It had been a few hours, and she was freezing. She was about to go sit with Luna by the bars when she noticed him glance at her, a worried look on his face.
"What?" she sniped at him.
He looked distinctly uncomfortable with himself, but looked at her again before murmuring, "I know I've been awful to you, and I don't expect you to be okay with me, but I know it's freezing in here and maybe we should sit closer, for warmth."
She stared at him, shocked. She couldn't believe that he'd matured that much. Before she could stop herself, the words "so my being a mudblood doesn't matter anymore" coldly slipped out.
He scowled. "Look, if you didn't want me to be civil, you just had to say so."
"No, I didn't - I'm sorry. I didn't think. Thank you."
She knew that Luna would be by herself at the moment, but she had a warmer coat than Hermione did, and honestly, she didn't think she'd be able to stand up. She was cold to her bones.
Draco pushed himself across the floor to sit next to her. She leaned into his side.
"How are we going to get through this war?" She whispered, voice hollow.
"I don't know," he replied. "I don't know."
AN: I'd love to know what you guys thought, so feel very free to let me know!
Thanks for reading!