They slept with blankets from Hermione's bag that night, and in the morning they both thought it was fitting that they moved on. It did not do to stay too long, especially as that was the first place they had gone to since they escaped.

Hermione felt weird holding her hand out for Apparition and instead of finding Ron and Harry's familiar palms, recieving a disdainful look from Malfoy instead. Eventually, though, Malfoy took her hand and she whisked them away.

A windy moor. The heavy gales whipped Hermione's hair into her face and Draco's robes nearly over his head. Draco immediately started casting spells as Hermione rummaged about in the bag.

"WHERE ARE WE SUPPOSED TO SLEEP, GRANGER? IN A BADGER SET?" Draco shouted over the roaring.

"I KNOW THERE'S A SPARE TENT IN HERE SOMEWHERE!" Hermione yelled back, eventually getting fed up of having hair in her mouth and just summoning it instead. Putting it up with a flick of her wand, she noted it looked a little small. This didn't bother her; she had gotten used to magical tents and their huge insides by now.

Except when they crawled inside and sighed in relief at the shelter, it wasn't as big as she expected. There were two single beds right next to each other. A curtained-off area she expected to be the bathroom. And a tiny kitchen.

"I'm sorry," she said anxiously. "The old one was much bigger, but there wasn't any time to pack it up. We never really expected to use this one, but it's always best to be prepared, you know? Just in case the worst happens. And look, we do need to use it, don't we? So it was probably a good thing I packed -"

"It's fine, just shut up," Draco said loudly, and Hermione's mouth promptly closed. She knew she had been blabbering, but the small space made her a bit nervous and she always talked a lot when she was nervous.

Lighting the stove, Hermione sighed at the warmth that spread through the room like a tidal wave. Draco had settled on his chosen bed, the one on the outside, and as there was nowhere else to sit in the tent Hermione settled down on her own bed and looked through her bag once again. A pile of books fell over with a rumble. She found some of the boys' clothes and robes and wondered how they were doing without any supplies. And there was her little mirror.

Glancing sideways to make sure Malfoy wasn't looking, Hermione opened it and lifted it up to her face. She nearly dropped it again. She looked horrible - she really hadn't realised she looked so awful and gaunt! Her poor hair had been falling out through stress, and it lay now in a weak, thin, limp state. Nothing like the frizzy bush that Malfoy had once so mocked. And her eyes - so dead.

Her hand began to shake and she swallowed. Draco's eyes flitted towards her. So she hadn't seen what she looked like recently. How was he to know? It was a bit of a shock for him seeing her like that after so long, so he bet she felt much worse.

"When did you learn to Apparate?" he asked loudly, not looking at her.

Hermione snapped the mirror shut and put it back in her bag. Grateful for the change of subject, she replied in fervour.

"Just at Hogwarts. I was so worried I wouldn't pass, but I did. I somehow knew that it was always going to come in useful. Just imagine if I hadn't been able to get us away from there."

Draco looked at her thoughtfully. "Can either of those two dunces Apparate?"

Rolling her eyes at his addressal of Harry and Ron, she shook her head. "Well, not technically. But Harry took Dumbledore when he was weakened on the night of his death, and Ron only failed his exam because he left half an eyebrow behind, so I imagine they'll make do."

Draco snorted at the thought of Weasley missing half his eyebrow, and it felt so good to laugh. He couldn't remember laughing at anything for months, maybe years, and it hurt his face. Hermione gave a chuckle too, and let the happier vibes wash over her for a moment.

They had both trailed off into deep thought.

"When do you think they'll contact us?" Hermione ventured.

Annoyed she had broken him from his thoughts, Draco snapped back. "I don't fucking know, do I? They might not even bother. They might not be able to. They might be -"

"Don't say that!" Hermione shouted over him. "Don't say things like that, Malfoy! I know they're ok. I'd feel it if they weren't."

"You'd feel it?" Draco scoffed. He was getting fed up with her; their civility over the last day or so had riled him up. He hated being nice. "Cry me a fucking river, Granger. You wouldn't feel it. They could be dead right now and you wouldn't even know!"

"Shut up!" she cried, thrusting her wand into his face. Neither of them spoke. Draco knew he'd hit a nerve. If he carried on down that route she'd hex him into next week, and no doubt it would be something clever he didn't know the bloody counter-curse to.

"Just leave it, Malfoy," she muttered, dropping her wand and turning away. "I don't have the energy to deal with your spite."

The rest of the day Hermione spent poring over books, desperately wishing for Ron and Harry to send word of their whereabouts. She wasn't quite sure where to start, as she and the boys usually bounced ideas off each other. She didn't think Malfoy would be too keen to start a study session.

It was evening time and Draco had already been outside to catch food. He shared it with Granger again, feeling pretty smug that he could provide food for the both of them. He could cook it properly on the stove this time, and both he and Hermione had yelled in excitement when Draco had opened a cupboard and found stores of dried herbs and spices.

But when Hermione had finished eating and was attempting to tune in the radio as Ron had so keenly done, she was met with a smell of acrid smoke and burning. Coughing slightly, she moved to the edge of the tent to see Draco's Death Eater robes alight in front of him on the moor.

"You'll get cold now," she said quietly.

"I don't care," he snapped, extinguishing the last of the embers and storming past her.

He hated the robes. He didn't want to be a Death Eater, and he certainly didn't want to be wearing those robes every single day. It just reminded him of everything he'd fucked up in his life.

She joined him back inside where he was staring angrily at nothing, sat on his bed.

"Maybe we should do night watches - in the old tent, we took it in turns to -"

"Don't need to."

That was all Draco said. She assumed he meant his wards would warn them of unwanted guests, so she settled down under the duvet of her own bed, the beaded bag underneath it too.

"You know, I can find some of Ron's robes in here, I'm sure they'll fit you. Of course it won't be the same as having your own, but at least it'll help with the cold..." she offered quietly.

"Do you really think I want to be wearing the Weasel's hand-me-downs?" Draco asked, pure disgust dripping from his words. "It's probably been worn by all the members of his family already."

"It was just an offer, Draco," Hermione said, her cheeks flaming at his rebuttal.

Draco was in one of his tempers. His moods could get so low that he wouldn't even get up or eat or sometimes even sleep. All the negativity in the world seemed to press upon his shoulders and there was no way for him to shrug it off. Every little thing irritated him like a blade scraping sideways across his skin, and so all her saintly offers of help were not answered in kind.

"Well I don't fucking need your help, ok? Just leave me alone Granger, before I stick my wand in your eye socket."

Hermione's face went even redder. She was embarrassed at the way she had allowed Malfoy to belittle her so. But she had been trying to help; her mind was not geared up for a battle with him. Although she normally tossed and turned before falling asleep, tonight she stayed firmly facing the canvas wall of the tent, leaving Draco with a view of the back of her head.

He could feel it coming. He'd felt it coming when Granger's kind words had struck him like needles poking into his skin. One of his lowest moods was washing over him like clouds of a thunderstorm rolling across the sky. His eyes were tired, but he could not sleep. Granger was breathing softly beside him, her breaths even in sleep. She had resolutely stayed facing away from him all night, some womanly way of telling him that he had hurt her feelings. At that moment, he barely cared. His own emotions were drowning him.

He normally just waited these episodes out, staying for a few days in his dormitory or his room at the manor. But Granger shouldn't know about it. He hated talking about feelings. Malfoys didn't show weaknesses.

When Hermione awoke, Draco still hadn't gone to sleep. She tried to sneak past him as she got up, but a glance back showed her that his eyes were wide open. She glared at him hard, trying to show him how pissed off she was about last night. He didn't even blink.

"Malfoy? Is everything ok?"

He took a deep breath before answering. "Fine."

Hermione pushed her anger to one side; she'd find it later when he was ready to hear it. As much as she disliked him, she was concerned. Was Voldemort doing something to affect him? Perhaps with the mark? Was it something to do with him burning the Death Eater robes the night before?

Thinking hard, she tried to figure out how to get him to respond. She called him all the names under the sun, and even resorted to making comments about his family again, but he just wouldn't get up.

"I didn't mean that, by the way," she added, after she'd made the family comments. "I'm just trying to get a response out of you."

She guessed he wouldn't be of much use today and made a mental list of all the things she had to do, but her stomach was fighting with her head. There was no food left over from last night, and she knew she'd have to venture outside to collect something.

Pausing at the edge of the tent, Hermione glanced back at Draco. She'd never seen anyone look so depressed and tormented in her life. She felt sorry for him.

"I'm going outside to get something to eat, ok?"

He responded with a half-hum, half-grunt, and Hermione sighed. Opening her bag, tucked into a pocket as always, she fished out the robes she had already found for him and placed at the top of the pile and laid them down next to him.

"I know you said you don't want them, but I'm giving them to you anyway," she said firmly. He shuffled under his duvet but said nothing else, and Hermione sighed again as she turned and ventured out into the windy open.