Chapter 3: Alone

Part 1: Fairy tales

Hermione didn't expect him to be there when she got back. Yet there he was, slouched in the chair, fast asleep. Every day he was there, a quiet shadow. Sometimes when she sat reading her book she felt his eyes upon her. She didn't really mind, at least it was quiet. Quiet enough for her to think.

And think she did. Since she had taken on the mission that the Order had given, she had pushed out thoughts about Harry and Ron. Now it was different. She didn't have any way of helping with the war, she had no place. The lonely ache inside her hurt. She had no family, her friends she hadn't seen in years, and any one that she had wanted to associate with she couldn't for fear of her mission being discovered. The only person she had spoken to was Lupin, and that was only brief words letting her know where she was needed.

Hermione knew that Harry and Ron were going to find horcruxes. She had planned to go with them to help, but they had left her. No doubt they believed it was too dangerous for her. If only they could see her now. How had they expected to survive without her?! There she was going again, thinking like they were dead. But, if not dead why hadn't they contacted her? Or anyone for that matter? No word in 3… Damn… Years.

So, there she was for nearly a week. Thinking about the past, worry about the future, and planning her next step. Hermione knew that she was going to look for horcruxes and in the process look for her friends. But where to start? Dumbledore hadn't given any clues on what the rest of the horcruxes were. That brought another mystery. Why had Dumbledore given her this book? It was, as Draco had said, merely fairy-tales. Of course it wasn't like the former Headmaster to give simple gifts. He always seemed to have some agenda. As a result of these thoughts, she read and re-read the book multiple times trying to find some clue.

The days passed slowly and Hermione began to feel angry. She couldn't figure out where to start. Finally one day she found herself staring blankly at her book, which lay on her legs. She felt hot, hot and aggravated. Snapping her book shut, Hermione looked up glaring at the first thing she saw.

"Malfoy, why the bloody hell are you still here?" she roared, standing up. Earlier she had felt his eyes on her again, and she knew he had been lurking in the shadows of the kitchen. Today it irritated her more than most.

There was a snap of surprise in his grey eyes, and then annoyance. "Well, I really don't have anywhere else to go, do I? I suppose it is none of your business anyway." He replied, leaning against the wall.

The sun had just begun to set, throwing them both into shadow. Hermione took a step forward. "You should leave Malfoy, wouldn't want to catch a disease from sharing food with a 'mudblood'."

"I don't need to take orders you. You know I am surprised that you aren't with your two pets. Where are your beloved Potter and Weasley anyway? Dead, probably." He spat back.

Hermione grimaced. "I'm sure that your father would take you back, if you begged him. Might want to take off those muggle clothes first, though. Of course you never know he might just kill you to get in favour with Voldemort again. It is a family tradition to betray each other isn't it?" The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them. She watched as he seemed to crumble, and then his hurt turned to hate.

Draco stepped forward until the only thing that was between them was the table. "Don't you ever speak about my father or my family again with your dirty muggle tongue or you will regret it."

But, Hermione couldn't stop herself. If living as a potions runner had taught her one thing, it was to take no shit. So, almost as an instinct she said exactly what she knew she shouldn't. "Your father is worthless, just like you." She whispered each word, enjoying the feeling of them on her tongue.

"What did you just say?" He growled, throwing the table that lay between them out of the way and grabbing her shoulders. "I said don't talk about my father." Hermione squirmed to get out of his clutches, but he held tight. His hands tightened their grasp as he continued to stare down at her, his eyes darkened with anger.

"Malfoy, if you don't let go…" She felt his lips on hers. Rough and angry. Passionate and full of hate. For a moment she was lost in a fantasy that she had long ago given up. For a moment she was a simple and normal young woman. Then reality hit. Hermione pushed him away, and with all her might slapped him across the face.

"If you ever touch me again like that Draco, I will kill you." Gathering her cloak, Cormic's stolen wand, and her book she gave him one last hateful look, and then disapparated.

She didn't care where she went. Anywhere was better than there.