"I found a body."
Harry's eyes were cast downward, studying the dirt that encrusted his worn shoes.
Hermione didn't look at him, couldn't look at him. "Ron?" The question came as her voice cracked.
"Thankfully no."
She closed her eyes, heavy with mental and physical exhaustion. Ron had gone away from them a week ago. She was so worried that the next time she saw him would also be the last time. When they moved locations in the woods she scanned the area carefully,looking for any sign of the redhead. She didn't find a single one. He was just gone. So who did Harry find? Was it someone they knew or just a nameless face? Another casualty of the war? Who would be out here?
She didn't need to ask these questions because Harry spoke again. His voice was heavy, full of a new emotion, "You should come see this, I can't...I can't explain it."
Wordlessly she got up from where she had been curled into herself in the tent they shared. It was a large tent but she still found herself going crazy stuck inside of it. Yet when she would leave it her anxiety just increased as the seemingly hopeless picture of their goal came into mind. The world was a big place, the remaining horacruxes could be anywhere.
She followed Harry outside and passed through the cover of their protective barrier. A slight electric current running through her as the wards moved around her body. It was dangerous and she wondered what Harry had been doing this far away. He couldn't of answered her if she had asked, he didn't know how he winded up there either.
He stopped suddenly, "Right there."
She followed his outstretched arm and pointed finger to see a body laying half hidden in the fall colors of the leaves tainted by the dark red and brown of hours old blood.
She didn't have to ask who it was, the white-blonde hair gave it away. Even though it was dirty and blood soaked in parts, there was no doubt in who it was. She had only ever seen two people with this hair color, and this body didn't belong to the older of the two.
"Malfoy."
"Yes," Harry just stared at the body, unsure of what to do. His ears perked slightly when he heard a low noise coming from the heap on the forest's floor. Harry moved closer, hearing another low moan.
Hermione crept closer, not completely control of her own movements. Was it possible for him to still be alive? In this condition?
A slightly louder groan came from the body, Draco's body. Yes, definitely alive.
Wide brown eyes met green ones that held the same shock, "What should we do?"
"We can't leave him...even if it is Malfoy..."
She chewed on her bottom lip, a bad nervous habit that had her lips raw from this journey alone, "Is this safe?"
"I don't know."
"Okay..." She pulled out her wand to levitate him but Harry held up a hand.
"I got him, anyone could be out here so no magic just yet..." Hermione nodded, kicking herself to not think of that. She was sure there were tracks on magic being used. Luckily the wards she had set up around their tent were undetectable and masked any magic done under its cover.
She tried to lend a hand but instead chose to be lookout, making sure no one was lurking in the shadows. When they got back to camp she spoke again, "Put him in the tub."
Harry did as asked and took him into their bathroom. He lowered Draco's shaking body into the metal tub the two had used for washing.
Hermione warmed the water. Grabbing a washcloth, she knelt down to the tub "I'll clean him up, could you clean his clothing?"
He nodded in response before she turned to Draco. He was barely responsive, eyes still clamped shut. He was freezing, skin ice cold and lips quivering. He was covered in dirt, blood, and pieces of leaves. She stripped him down to boxers, blushing slightly as she lowered her eyelashes and gave Harry him Draco's wet clothing. Harry cleaned them quickly and folded them, placing them on a wooden chair. "Are you good? I can make something for us to eat."
She nodded as she tried to get the dirt out of a particularly deep cut on his shoulder, "Sure."
"Okay."
She gave him a small smile before her attention turned back to the task at hand. The amount of dried blood that covered him was insane. How hadn't he died of blood lost? He still might of if the wounds weren't cleaned and healed. A rag and warm water did most of the work, gentle hands trying to scrub his body in the softest of ways. She got to his broken ribcage and heard the sharp intake of breath in her ear. Her head flicked up.
His eyes had finally opened and she got the shock off cool grey eyes probing her. Confusion clouded his dilated pupils. But, under those eyes were dark purple bruises. Underneath that some places had faded to yellows and greens, while others were red from irritation. The difference of coloration made her believe this wasn't a one time thing. The bruises were differently aged. That thought terrified her. His lips were blue in places where they weren't cut open, reveling dark red slits. His normally pointed nose was no longer pointing the correct way. He looked...dead.
But, he was alive...barely, but still alive.
Not a word was spoken between the two, instead Hermione continued her cleaning in silence. Finally, when she was finished she called Harry back in the lift Draco out of the tub. The now muddy red water contrasting against the few unbruised parts of his pale skin.
Harry hauled him up, he had put on some muscle weight, while Draco had clearly lost an unhealthy amount. The body he had bragged about during Hogwarts so many times was gone. Just how long had he been on the run before they caught up with him this time?
Broken bones and flesh were mended by Hermione's wand. He wasn't completely healthy again, but at least he wouldn't be in the agonizing pain that she had assumed he had been feeling.
They tried feeding him, but he would shake his head and push it away. It reminded Hermione of an infant. Finally Harry made her give up, "He'll eat if he gets hungry enough, just wait it out."
He was deathly silent. Hermione and Harry watched from the edge of the room. They stood in silence as they watched their once sworn nemesis as he shivered despite the heavy wool blankets placed over him. The silence was only broken by fang clicks of his teeth as they would hit together every few harsh shivers.
"I wonder what happened," Hermione thought out loud. Her curious mind always looking for answers, but she knew these ones would be hard to come by.
He didn't turn to her, his eyes trained on the shivering lump on Ron's cot. "Isn't it obvious?" She shook her head and out of his peripheral vision he saw. "He must have got into trouble with his gang of death eaters. Something happened, no one of sane mind would hurt him that badly."
"What if he hurt someone else? What if they hurt him because of what he was?"
"I don't think so, these wound were created by force and magic, but the magic mostly being dark. I can just...feel it."
There were somethings Hermione didn't try to understand, Harry's feelings were one of them. Sometimes his little hunches were right. A lot of the time actually.
This brought on another concern of the both of them was how close death eaters were. How hadn't they heard them? Still, Hermione knew that meant that the wards were working, they were invisible to anyone else.
"He probably disobey'd or something. Volde-"
Harry was cut off by a wail coming from the prior silent mass on the cot. A tortured scream sounding, echoing in the quiet forest.
Hermione's eyes widened in panic. She quickly layered on more silencing charms, the former ones not being powerful enough to stop the force of Draco's screams. It made it harder for them to hear outside the wards, but she figured the screaming would stop shortly. It was possible that the shock of everything finally caught up to him.
The screaming didn't stop. Not for the remaining of the night, not for the next 46 hours. Not even pausing to sleep, and it was obvious he had been exhausted before. It had eventually turned into mangled words being screamed, but neither Harry or Hermione could understand what the other boy was trying to say. And it hurt to listen carefully for too long.
Harry had been having headaches, blinding pain around his scar that burned holes into his mind. It wasn't a new occurrence, but the constant screaming didn't help. If anything when Harry had an attack of pain and nightmares, the screams made it all the more realistic and terrifying. Dreams of nonsense items that would turn into monsters. Silver tiaras turning into huge black ravens that attacked Harry, a gold cup that would overflow until he was drowning. They didn't make sense, but he would wake up with screams that would rival Draco's.
Hermione was in living hell, between the two men she couldn't sleep, or even think. It didn't matter how hard she tried to tone out the noise, nothing helped. She felt guilty when she put up her own silencing barrier around her for an hour of sleep. It was dangerous to do so, but she needed the sleep. They needed to work on finding the horocruxes. And maybe finding Ron...
She groaned as she pulled her self up from bed, only one, familiar set of yelling this time. She knew it would happen eventually, a person can only scream for so long.
"You okay?" She peered her head around the curtain that was between the two cots where Harry and Hermione slept. They had moved them closer after Ron's disappearance, each of them relying heavily on each other for the support of missing their best friend.
"Another nightmare, I'm okay," he brushed her away. This was normal, it happening every few days.
"Okay...," her head flicked towards where small sounds were being heard, "when did he stop screaming?"
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, "A few hours ago, I had finally fallen asleep again when the nightmare hit."
"I'm sorry, try to go back to sleep."
He did as she asked and pulled the blankets back over his head, attempting to fall back asleep.
She walked over to where Draco was. He still wasn't sleeping and the curious sounds he was making sounded almost...snakelike. How fitting.
But, when she got close enough she realized they were actual words this time, ones that were understandable.
"It's a trap...it's a trap...it's a trap...it's a trap," Draco kept whispering. His voice had long since been damaged, his vocal cords not being able to withstand the screaming that had come from him.
"What does that mean, Malfoy?" He flinched slightly when she placed a hand on his shoulder. His eyes shut tight, but he wasn't asleep. The quick panicked breaths were a giveaway of that. She didn't get an answer. And she didn't when she asked again later.
A few more days of this passed. Hermione and Harry had asked him repeatedly to explain what he meant but Draco acted as if they weren't even there. Dead eyes trained on the wall in front of him.
He rocked back an forth as he continued his chant, "It's a trap...it's a trap...it's a trap..." His voice rasped on, barely there.
The others had stopped trying to understand it. They had bounced ideas off of each other. Was this a trap for them? Was he trapped by whoever tortured him? But they had no way to know for certain so they stopped talking about it, figuring the answer would come out eventually.
"I hate him."
Hermione turned to look at Harry who in turn was staring at Draco. He was laying on his bed - the one that use to be Ron's - and picking at his skin. He continued mumbling, stuttering. "Trap...i-it's a tra...trap, a trap." The words seemed to have lost meaning on everyone after being repeated so many times. It was more like a strange song, a terrifying lullaby.
"Harry..."
"No, not him," he nodded at Draco. "I hate the one who did all of this. The one that could turn the annoying prat that was Malfoy into this. I hate Vold-"
"TRAP!" Harry was cut off by Draco screaming as loud as his throat would allow, which wasn't as loud as it had been the first few nights, but still louder than believed he could muster now.
Harry stopped mid-word, confused.
"What's a trap?" Hermione coaxed, hopeful for answers.
"Him," Draco finally said something other than those repeating three words.
"Him?"
"Name...it's a trap," Draco continued, shaking his head in frustration as he tried to get his ability to speak again.
"Harry, his name! His name is a trap," Hermione said as the pieces of the puzzle were clicking together. "Draco was warning us not to say his name. He knows you're one of the few who are brave enough to call him by name. That's how he must have planned on finding you."
Draco had a smile on his face, not a big one but enough to make the other two sure that this was correct thinking.
"It's a trap..." Harry repeated the words that he had been hearing nonstop lately, finally they held meaning. Of course his name would be a trap, he had always thought his name shouldn't be said. And now he's using the rebellious few who do to track them, their own rebellion used against them. Draco had saved them from being discovered.
And for that Harry and Hermione were forever grateful. Though they never spoke of it again after he was gone. When Ron came back, missing the blonde, damaged man by a day and a half, neither of the other two said a word of what they had done in his absence. They had risked dropping off Draco at a safe house once he was better. When he finally became more than just a shell of a person with one mission to tell them something, to save them.
Draco didn't remember much of his time he spent in the tent with his saviors. He would get foggy glimpses in his dreams, hardly believing it. He remembered vividly being tortured by death eaters that had caught up with him after his attempted escape. Those memories were strong enough to be the sole captors of his nightmares. But sometime, instead of nightmares he had dreams. Dreams of a brown haired, big eyed woman who looked too tired. Tired physically and emotionally. The same look had been worn into the second face that he remembered. Too long black hair, and stupid glasses. He had trouble putting names to the faces, not believing himself whenever he would guess who they actually were.
But later on, when the war had reached Hogwarts, it may have been those faces that had saved him. That had caused him to find the courage in himself to stand up against Voldemort. Seeing their faces outside of his dreams, instead seeing them on the opposite side of the battle. Others thought it was because he saw the way the deatheaters could turn on their own, but he had already known that. That was why he tried to flee in the first place. No, it was the faces and memories that were always hidden in the deep parts of his mind that changed him.
When the war ended he was gone, starting over with a new life. One that was untouched by the dark magic stained hands of Voldemort. He had fled the battle with his mother. Sometimes he hated himself for taking this way out, but he knew it was his only chance. He knew that after revolting against Voldemort he wouldn't be able to stay around their side, his own family and friends. Nor could he stay around his previous enemies, he knew that not all of the good side would be as accepting as the two that had saved him before.
