Author Notes: This was a drabble that turned into a chaptered story. Yes, I couldn't quite believe it either. I'm going to be a busy girl juggling this, "Blind" and the many drable I still have in my head.

I'm sorry for the chapter-shortness. I'm hoping that as I write it'll get longer.

Chapter One

People had believed that the end of the second war and the ultimate downfall of Lord Voldemort would have meant the end of tragedy and destruction. It was as Hermione Granger sat in a tiny prison cell on the outskirts of an old Irish farming village that she considered just how wrong those people had been.

A total of three Death Eaters had managed to avoid arrest; no one, not even those who had been involved in the trial understood how they had managed, but how they did it didn't matter anymore as they had avoided punishment and then wasted no time in avenging the Dark Lord.

Sudden darkness engulfed the cell where Hermione sat and she waited breathlessly for a sign of what might be inflicted upon her next. However, after a moment she heard only a dull thump against the concrete. Light returned as the cell door was swung shut and securely locked with five large muggle padlocks and a powerful locking charm that, according to her captors, was only able to be undone by the captors themselves.

Hermione looked around and her eyes landed on the object the Death Eater had thrown in. She was surprised to find it was a man dressed in a black cloak, which covered the entirety of his unconscious body. A lump formed in her throat as she realised that they must have run out of empty cells if they were suddenly giving her company. Knowing that the prison would be a large one, this brought no comfort to her at all.

Crawling forward on her hands and knees, she pulled the cloak away from the man's face, gasping as the pale face appeared before her, the man's silver blonde hair messy on his head.

"Malfoy?" she gasped and she went to work checking that he wasn't seriously injured.

His heartbeat was steady and his pale skin contains only a collection of scratches, none too deep for her to be worrying about. She made to shake him awake when he suddenly let out a groan and she sat back slightly as he moved his head to the side, facing her.

Slowly his eyes opened and Hermione was staring into the steel grey eyes cautiously.

"Granger?" he said trying to sit up. Hermione instantly put a hand on his shoulder to hold him down; she knew how bad it was first waking up after being hit with one of the Death Eater's stunning spells. "What happened?"

"They captured you obviously," Hermione said stiffly. "It'll be a while before you can sit up. We don't want you feeling worse than you're going to.

"Who are they, Granger?" Draco snarled and Hermione had to admire his ability to spiteful even in an event such as this.

"The Death Eaters," Hermione stated simply. "Nott, Davis and Stint."

"Right," Draco scowled in recognition, scanning his eyes over her as she got up and went back to her seat against the wall. "Don't they feed you here, Granger? There's nothing left of you..."

Hermione looked down at her own figure and held back a sob. "They feed me only at night. Other prisoners get better treatment but as I am …"

"A mudblood?" Draco helped, smirking.

Hermione's head snapped up to look at him. "I was going to say one of Harry Potter's friends but if you insist, Malfoy…"

"Where is Potter anyway?" Draco snarled, sitting up and giving a great wince as a wave of dizziness and pain overwhelmed him. He scanned the cell as though expecting Harry's head to merrily appear in midair.

Hermione was silent for a long moment, tears forming in her eyes.

"Granger?" Draco prodded attentively, feeling a small lump form in his throat.

Hermione looked up and into his eyes, not blinking. "Last I knew he was in hiding."

Draco chuckled hesitantly at that. "Since when did Potter hide and let a war brew up around him?"

Hermione smiled slightly, tears slowly flowing. "Never. That's what I'm afraid of."

"Is Weasley with him?" Draco asked, rubbing at his temples and not looking at her.

Hermione broke down completely at this and when she did not respond to him with words he did not insist on an answer; he knew that these tears could not be good.

Draco stood as Hermione calmed herself down. He still felt a lot of pain in his joints and his head was pounding as though it had been run over by the Hogwarts Express. He walked once around the cell, looking through the tiny window in the left wall; it showed an unfamiliar man of about 30.

"He's not very talkative," Hermione sniffed. "I imagine he'd be quite unpleasant to share a cell with."

"I spent my whole school career hating you; I would never have wanted to share one with you either, Granger."

They glared at each other for a moment.

"Perhaps that's why they put you here," Hermione suggested, not biting back at his comment as she stared at the window calmly.

"Perhaps," Draco drawled. "What I want to know is why they haven't killed you yet."

Hermione smiled bitterly. "They believe I can help them: Giving them information, helping them tracking down the Order, baiting Harry here … giving them pleasure."

"Pleasure?" Draco grimaced. "They don't –"

"They torture me," Hermione muttered quietly.

Draco stared at her with a strange expression. "How many times?"

Hermione gave a tiny chuckle. "Too many to count; three times they did it with similar ferocity as your aunt did that night at your manor."

Draco said nothing and sat against the wall with the window. Silence filled the cell and Hermione avoided his gaze. She was pleased that he was not torturing her with the insults he had always sent her at school; perhaps he was sensible enough to realise that fighting would not help them in the current situation, or perhaps he was still in too much pain to do so. Either way, she was pleased.

"When's the food coming?" he asked her suddenly, lying down on his back on the cold, damp concrete, staring up at the low ceiling.

Hermione looked at him. "It came before you arrived."

Draco cursed under his breath, but a couple of minutes later heavy breathing filled the tiny space, indicating his sleeping form. Hermione sighed and lay down herself, hoping that this night would not be as cold as the last.