Chapter 2

Time passed. Food came sporadically. Dreams of her kept Draco alive. Occasionally a Death Eater would kindly interrupt his mundane imprisonment with an hour of torture. They all wore masks when they came down to his cell. The cowards. It did not disguise his father. His walk alone revealed himself too his once doting son. Draco sat silently throughout each vicious spell, each syllable hitting him hardest inside.

Nothing changed for what seemed like a lifetime. Days dragged by in a hellish monotony until the day Draco was given something that would keep him striving to survive. Her.

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Draco lay beneath the dim light, trying to fall into the tender and comforting embrace of sleep, when the terrifying vacuum of silence was shattered.

Screams of pure hatred echoed around the corridors leading to Draco's cell. He pressed himself to the black iron door, savouring the crazed yells of the voice he had dreamed so intently of. If this was as close as he could get to her that would be enough for him.

He looked down at himself, at his torn dirty clothes, at his pinched, quivering body. His shirt was red from yesterday's torture and his stomach cried out for the pitiful food that was occasionally thrust through the door. He could not let her see him like this. He had crawled into this pit without a murmur and here she came – bold and brash, roaring like a true Gryffindor. Draco felt sick at the thought of being seen in his current state. He slunk back into the furthest corner of the stone room.

The door burst open. Light streamed through her hair. Draco hid in the shadows.

"Damn you all to hell! You will never win! I hope you know your master couldn't care a less if you lived or died!" She was like a wild cat, spitting and screaming at the two Death Eaters dragging her along on invisible ropes. Her taunts turned to screams as the charmed binds revealed themselves, glowing red and radiating heat until it seared through her skin. Every scream of agony was like a dagger to the heart for Draco. How he longed to hold her. To protect her.

"Right little Miss Mudblood" spat one of her captors, "I think you should shut your filthy little mouth."

The girl shut her mouth, tears streaming down her face; she had clearly been bound by another spell.

Draco felt his stomach churn. He should help this perfect being from this monstrous treatment. But he did nothing. Was he delirious? His wand had been ceremoniously burned and he knew that if he stepped in they would both be subjected to worse punishments.

The other Death Eater walked towards her. Draco had never seen someone stare with such an intense hatred at another human being before. Although you could hardly call this coward a member of the human race. The Death Eater felt its full intended effect. However, it was easily remedied by a sharp slap to her already red cheeks.

"Now lets see what the order arm their shining stars with" cackled the first Death Eater, his hands searching the girl's pockets. She stared indignantly at the wall opposite, rolling her eyes in an obvious show of defiance, ruined somewhat by her blotched face and blackened eyes,

"What's this then?" The Death Eater pulled out a wand from deep within the folds of her cloak. Panic flashed across her face. The Death Eater grinned sardonically and muttered something. The girl doubled over in agony.

"Just leave her now, that's all we needed" said the second Death Eater. The first pulled her up off her knees by her hair. "We've a little friend in here for you – play nice" he hissed in her ear. And with that Draco's angel was flung back onto the floor as the door slammed shut behind her.

Hermione Granger picked herself up from the floor with all the grace and dignity she could muster in her current situation. Which, not surprisingly, was very little. Her hair was matted and was sticking to her wet cheeks.

She reached down and pulled a wand out from her sock, a smile of satisfaction playing on her lips.

Draco grinned along with her. She was still the genius he remembered, as if she would have been outwitted by those fools. His heart sang out with pride for this brave, beautiful girl. Then he coughed loudly.

She sprang to life, her wand spitting red sparks. "Who is in here? Reveal yourself before I blow up this whole room!"

"Oh do calm down Miss Granger, its just you and little old me in here", drawled Draco, realising how narcissistic his voice seemed. Despite this horrendous situation, his defence system had kicked into action; his ego protecting anything he was feeling inside, his façade concealing his pain.

"Malfoy?" One word full of so much venom, Draco visibly recoiled further into the shadows. "Are you going to kill me from there? Hidden so you don't have to look at me properly? You are just like them – a coward!" She was quieter now, hissing every word, firing them like arrows. And every single one hit their target.

How Draco would have loved to run towards her, hold her soft hands and comfort her. But he knew this was impossible so he reverted from Draco back into Malfoy, stood up and swallowed every romantic notion he had dreamt up during his time in captivity. She would never trust his affection, so he addressed her the way he had for the last six years, hiding six years worth of love.

"What a charming concept. Unfortunately, I seem to have mislaid my wand so this opportunity will have to pass me by, lest I get my hands dirty." Her wand spat at the not so subtle reference to her family history. Draco hadn't intended it to sound like that. Hermione loathed him all the more. Draco began again, to avoid any awkward silences already. "And to relieve any confusion over my hiding", he laced the word with so much arrogance Hermione could do nothing but believe him, "it is not my habit to present myself to a lady looking like a Weasley, regardless of the lady in ques--" The half hearted slur was killed in his throat, as Hermione slammed his shoulders into the wall, pinning him there.

"How dare you speak about the Weasley's like that!" she screeched at him. "One of them has already died at the hands of your friends! You have helped rip a hole in one of the most wholesome and honourable families, whilst your family lord it over all those who strive for what is right in one solid, wholly vicious little group of people you worked with. Who you could still be working with" Her piercing eyes cut through Draco's soul. He writhed uncomfortably in her vice like grip, until her strength gave out, moments after her verbal rampage.

Draco lay in the heap she had dropped him in. He stared at her through the gloom. "At least 100 hundred points form Gryffindor for sheer lack of observation. I was under the impression that you were intelligent Granger. Do you think that I would be dressed like this if I was still a friend or even a relative of that lot upstairs? They are my lords and masters now, not just yours." He gave a very dry laugh. "It will confuse the hell out of Crabbe."

Hermione looked away, biting her lip. She was ashamed of herself. Her anger had blinded her. God if she had only looked – here laid a boy, dressed no better than the house elves she had once campaigned so passionately for. She looked down and he stared at her, their eyes meeting. An invisible spark holding their eyes in place for a second longer than it should've.

"I'm sorry about the Weas- Your friend." It was strange, the way the inflection was on 'your' rather than 'friend'. It was as if he only cared because it hurt her. Hermione dismissed the thought immediately. The two fell silent.

"I hate all this death" Draco added in a quiet, melancholy tone, breaking the uneasy silence. Hermione could only nod. He had changed since she last saw him. Whether it was a definite change for the better was yet to be seen.

Swallowing all memories of cruel laughter behind backs, crude names and vicious taunts, Hermione extended her hand. "So I take it we are now comrades in captivity, Malfoy", she whispered, helping him to his feet.

A warm smile blossomed over his gaunt face. He could feel the warmth from her hand spread up his arm and across his chest. "Indeed we are Miss Granger, but can we please use first names, family ties aren't my thing at the moment." The smile remained, although it stopped before lighting up his eyes.

"Of course, Draco". The name felt strangely familiar and comforting, yet alien on her tongue.

"Thank you Hermione."

An uneasy tension filled the air. Some truths had been told, but neither person felt comfortable sharing a cell with what the world believed to be an old nemesis. As they moved apart to sleep at opposite sides of the room, both contemplated the fragility of their awkward truce.