A/N: Many thanks to those who have read the story so far a big hug to those who've reviewed!
Disclaimer: I own nothing, J.K. Rowling has it all.
It was her hair that made him stop.
It was like the air in his lungs was being squeezed out, gripped by an iron fist that held his throat and fixed his eyes on the sight before him in silent terror. He would have known those cinnamon locks anywhere, and after countless hours in training and endless Order meetings, there was no mistaking their owner.
"Gr- Granger?"
For an instant, movement ceased. He saw Hermione's eyes widen in shock, and then her head shoot up in accusation and fury. Draco wanted to grab at the words but they clung to the air like lead weights: funny, how a single word can bring down an army.
First rule: when captured by the enemy, do not give away your identity.
She opened her mouth, perhaps to yell at him, threaten him with fists or words, but stopped, her lips parted in a mute horror only fit for the condemned (which, thanks to Draco, she now was). It occurred to him then that she was doing him a kindness, saving him from her fate. Perhaps, her mind wondered below the sound of blood pounding through her ears, at least one of them would get out alive tonight.
His father spoke next, "So it is the mudblood! Excellent Draco, thank you!" Lucius threaded his hand in her hair, and jerked back roughly. Always resistant, her upper lip clamped down on her lower one, fighting the painful cry that threatened to escape her throat. Draco's eyes widened, his mouth opened and shut like a fish, trying to find the words (goddammit, Granger, how the hell could you be so careless! How the hell could you get yourself captured? ), but holding back. If he gave away anything else about his involvement with the Order, Lucius would kill them both.
His father was speaking again, and Draco was pulled from his thoughts. "Now, my darling," He clamped his free hand on her shoulder, and she winced in defeat. "We can really put you to use. Crabbe, prepare the dungeon. We have a guest tonight." He jeered, and Draco's mind reeled.
"Draco!" He shifted his eyes hesitantly away from the Hermione to Lucius's eager eyes.
"Yes, father?"
"I imagine you'll want to watch this, son." He gestured towards the stairs leading down into foreboding darkness. There was a crazed glaze in his eyes that tore at Draco's heart, and made the pit of terror grow and deepen in his stomach. Desperation, he knew, was putting his father's state mildly, and Draco knew the taste of desperation on a weak man's tongue. He'd felt it all his life.
He nodded quietly, and, numbly made his way to the unused dungeons, his eyes connecting briefly with Hermione's. Her eyes narrowed in a challenged: You got me here, you get me out.