He was doing it again.

He couldn't stop himself it seemed. He couldn't stop thinking about the mousy girl laying in the upstairs bedroom. Ever since he had apparated yesterday evening he had been thinking of nothing but her. He had found the house they were in about a mile outside of town. Immediately he had placed her in the bed and looked at her, really taking her in. She was furrowing her brow over and over again in her sleep. Her lips pursed.

Beautiful

The thought came unbidden and he tried to remove it by physically shaking his head. His eyes drifted downwards and he caught sight of her new mark. On the inside of her left forearm. Draco didn't miss the symbolism of his aunt choosing that part of her body. His hand reflexively curled around his own left forearm where his shirt lay covering his own mark.

Marred

His own tattoo had been especially painful as compared to others. The ink had been obstinate, not wanting to take in his skin. It was unusual as far as he knew. Everyone else had always told him that it had been quick to take. His father said that it was because he wasn't allowing the dark lord into his heart. That his own body was showing willful determination to resist the dark magic. His father was so displeased that he allowed Aunt Bella to do it. She had made it especially painful and drawn out. When the tattoo finally showed brightly against his pale flesh she had cackled and left him by welcoming him to the fold.

Draco found himself disgusted by the marred flesh on her arm and set about finding something to wrap it with. The house was filled with old rags and he tore one into long strips. He had to clean it he knew. Only Merlin knew what kinds of nasty things Aunt Bella had used that knife on. When he finally approached her he felt nervous. He was scared she would wake during the cleaning process and fight him.

He was exhausted. He hoped that he wouldn't have to use physical force to keep her here. It was too dangerous for her to leave. They would be out looking for her now, looking for the both of them.

He stepped close and kneeled at the side of the bed, taking her arm in hand. The bleeding had stopped by now and the faints beginnings of scabs were appearing. he wet the wash cloth that he had found downstairs and slowly began wiping the excess blood away. He hoped the water would do enough to prevent infection. He wished desperately that he knew a spell that would immediately heal the wound. He didn't so this would have to do.

After he had washed it cleaned he wrapped it as tightly as he could without cutting off her circulation. He hoped that upon waking she would not be as upset about seeing the bandage as she would be from seeing the wound.

He stood from his place on the floor and hovered over the slim girl for a moment. Her breathing was even and her face was less tense than it had been when he had first laid her down. Her lips parted in a relaxed manner and he tried not to think about how nice they looked.

The truth of the matter was that Hermione Granger was beautiful, even with her wild hair and impure blood status. He wasn't a fool. He noticed a pretty girl when he saw one. He aforementioned hair was strewn across the pillows and a curl hung on her face.

He most certainly had no desire to touch it, move it, or run it through his fingers.

He slept on the couch that night, surprisingly well. The next evening she awoke. At first she was quiet in her mannerisms, timid even, but he should have known that would never last for long.


"We should go get supplies and food in town." Her voice was nagging, demanding. He winced at it. He had forgotten how annoying she was.

"No," he answered shortly. He was in no mood.

"No!? Surely you understand that we have to eat."

"No, Granger" His voice was more firm this time. She huffed indignantly. She was infuriating.

"You're being difficult for no good reason." Hermione seemed so sure that he was being a brat. Let her think that. He knew that they were too recognizable to be seen in town. Even a muggle one.

She's a horrible nag.

"I mean look at you! You're horribly thin." He stiffened at her assessment of him. He hated her.

"Granger shut up, what do you want to do? Go out into a populated town and interact with people when you're on the dark lord's shit list?" He struggled to keep from yelling. He tried to remind himself that this girl had been tortured only a few days ago.

"Well Malfoy, yes, how else are we going to live?" He tone was beginning to border on snooty. His lips began to curl downwards into an impatient frown.

She approached him at the window he was currently looking out of. There was a thick layer of snow outside and it glistened in the morning sun. He glanced at her, regarding her posture and expression. Bitch wasn't going to drop it.

"If we go we have to hide your ridiculously unmanageable hair and then find something to change it entirely." He stated. Her lips pursed as if she was trying to figure out if she should take offense and then he saw her working out that her hair would give them away. It was her most recognizable feature and any servant for the dark lord would ask the muggles in town if they had seen a girl with wild brown hair.

"Only if you fix yours too." she commanded, as if he hadn't already been planning on doing such a thing. He knew of course that his hair was extremely recognizable too. He rolled his eyes at her tone.

"Obviously Granger."

He turned on his heel and headed for the coat closet by the front door which was remarkably stocked with two coats, hats, and gloves. He appreciated the preparedness of the home's owners. It may be a summer home but the couple that lived here had left some emergency cold weather supplies. He placed the winter hat on and carefully tucked the ends of his long blond hair in until none remained showing. Hermione had yet to move.

He arched one eyebrow at her.

Come on Granger.

"We don't have all day," he ordered gruffly, when in fact he was fairly certain that they did. He was thankful when she didn't point that out.

She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail and placed the remaining hat on her head. The majority of her bushy hair was hidden and she the set about getting the gloves and coat on.

He looked her over once she was done and with barely a nod in approval he opened the door and strode out into the cold. She was shorter than him and she seemed to be having a hard time keeping up with his pace. Her difficulty seemed to shut her up for the time being and so he didn't slow down. He wished that he had some boots. As it was he was wearing dress shoes and they were getting horribly soaked because of the snow around them.

When they appeared into town Hermione tugged at his sleeve and pointed at a pharmacy on the corner. An open sign flashed in the window. He followed her reluctantly and watched as she searched the selves. The store was extraordinarily empty. He wondered if they would be the only customers that day and the concept made him nervous. It was important that the shopkeeper forget that they came through. He wondered briefly if Hermione had brought the wand along. Maybe they should obliviate the man once they were done here.

She was talking again and he tried to focus on her.

"What color do you want?" she asked quietly. He had to really look at the shelf to understand her question. She was looking at some sort of muggle hair coloring potions. He shrugged and bent down to pick one up. It seemed there was endless possible colors. He decided it didn't really matter and picked one at random. He straightened and took the box she had chosen. He had a little bit of muggle money. His mother had always encouraged him to carry some with him.

He approached the man at the counter. He was a round, older gentleman whose eyes shown and twinkled at Draco. He shuddered, remembering a different old man. An old man he had killed.

"That all for you?" He glanced around. Hermione was still browsing the shelves.

"Yes," Draco answered curtly. The man nodded and scanned the products before asking for the money. Draco passed the amount over to him, hopefully this interaction would be done soon. The quicker the better.

"I haven't seen you two around here before, have I?" Draco had horrible luck.

"No," he replied. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.

"Well then, you and your girlfriend have a nice time here, okay?" The man was chuckling. Draco frowned. Correcting him would only add more of a memory of this conversation. He nodded and strode away from the counter with the bag. He grabbed Hermione's arm as he passed her, ushering her out the door as quickly as possible.

Girlfriend my ass. This girl may be my responsibility but that's it. Nothing intimate.

Hermione pulled her arm away as soon as they stepped outside and looked at him with a mix of confusion and annoyance swimming in her eyes. He merely shrugged for explanation and made his way to the grocery store that was sitting down the street a bit.