Disclaimer: Promise it's not mine, you.
A/N: So dearies, I hope you enjoy this one, because it'll be the last for a few days, I'm getting my wisdom teeth out tomorrow so I won't be super lucid for a bit. But hopefully you're enjoying it and if you've kept count of the days we're almost to the point where we continue on from the first few chapters, where we left off. Thanks to all the lovely people who reviewed and keep reviewing, it might get me off my behind and writing more quickly! :P
Chapter 10: Friend or Foe?
Hermione Granger rose that morning hours before the dawn, her eyes blinking long and hard to get accustomed to the dim light in the prison cell. She grasped her aching head in her hands and remembered the corrosive events of the day prior.
She shifted off the floor and pulled her tense and sore body against the harsh, cold stones of the wall. The blood rushed to her head and she swayed lightly before dropping back and letting her head drop against the stones. It was an acute sense of relief then, the cool of the wall against the throbbing heat of her head. But her relief was short lived as her eyes met the rumpled figure across the cell from her.
Malfoy was sprawled, his tall, lithe figure taking up more space than she would have thought. He always seemed so scrawny against the muscled and burly backdrop of Crabbe and Goyle. But now, unhindered, his pale limbs stretched on, their form not in the least bit skinny. Or unpleasant, a traitorous portion of her mind whispered, but she cast it out almost immediately.
He shifted in his sleep and she wished she could see in innocence in the flash of flesh that appeared to her, but instead all she could see was the bruises on her and the furious frustration in his eyes in that corridor at Hogwarts, moments before she lost consciousness.
She had thought he would kill her, to silence her but he didn't. Instead they both ended up in here. Wherever that was.
She turned her gaze to the ceiling but it was hard to see anything. Her eyes lighted back on the figure across from her.
She tried to remember what had happened but all that came to mind was passing out and then, that man, and his…she wouldn't think about it, not now. Even last night when Malfoy had been pushing her, all she could think about was that wretched man and how he-he, no.
She could not, would not think of it now.
Who wanted her here? She could name a few but the list of people who wanted her and Draco Malfoy was short. Nonexistent.
Whoever he was, he was not on any side they knew of. But she supposed, in a very odd, and twisted turn of events that did seem to place her and Malfoy on the same side and she had been a bit short with him yesterday. It was not her place to antagonize, especially in these dire circumstances where he was the closest thing to an ally that she had.
Ron was always teaching her strategy in chess, she could remember his words as if it were yesterday.
"Hermione, what're you doing?"
"I don't know, Ron." I responded tiredly, moving the rook I'd moved two spaces a back and moving the knight in its steed. He shook his head even more exasperatedly at that.
"You're always forgetting your pawns."
"But they can't help me now."
"But they can't help you later if you don't move them now. The pawns are your insurance policy."
Perhaps Draco Malfoy needed to be moved around a little too before he could serve a purpose. She watched him tiredly, her shoulders hunching inwards and her body shivering in the sudden draft.
Perhaps she had been too harsh in their last conversation, he was just as much a prisoner as she was. And as she glazed over the wounds on his face, she was also not alone in injury.
Perhaps it was time to apologize.
Wearily, Hermione pulled herself to her feet, grimacing against the fading ache of old bruises before stumbling over to him and kicking him soundly in the solar plexus.
He moaned and shot awake, his left hand grasping her ankle and in a startling quick maneuver, she was flipped onto the floor, his impossibly warm body hovering over hers.
His right arm was gripped tightly against her own, shoving it behind her while his left was placed across her neck, tightening as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes.
` "Granger?" His voice was confused but he had yet to let go of his ever-cinching grip.
Her breaths came out in short gasps as she felt her neck being imprisoned for the second time that day and in the clarity of suffocation he looked almost beautiful, his charcoal irises rimming wide pupils, his soft platinum locks brushing her cheek and his lips, delicate and pink. You would think they'd be more severe considering the ugly words they spewed but now they were such a feminine shade of rose. She giggled at the thought.
Malfoy's eyes widened even more in bewilderment but he realized their position and loosened his grip on her neck immediately. His right hand letting go of the arm beneath her and settling it on her hip, the warmth instantly absorbed through the thin cotton of her school skirt and through to her own skin.
But as her breaths grew deeper and the oxygen returned to her system, she dropped her head to the floor and tried to put some space between them but he wasn't having it.
"So eager to move away, Granger?" His voice came across amused but she shuddered, her system starting to lock down at the forced contact.
"Let go-let go of me, Malfoy." She stuttered out before closing her eyes and taking in deep breaths to ward off the anxiety of his touch. He was too close, she could barely think. But she had to pull herself together, so what if that man, that piece of scum had forced himself on her. This was Malfoy, he might be the biggest pratt on the planet, but he wouldn't do something like that.
He wouldn't.
For a moment she thought his eyes softened, but the flash was gone before it even arrived and it was replaced with an even harder gaze.
"Oh, is the poor mudblood scared?" He taunted, before shoving her away roughly.
She got to her feet shakily before putting several feet between them.
She wanted to turn back to her corner then, it felt so fruitless. The idea of creating an alliance between them, besides, alliances were borne of trust and that was one thing she certainly did not feel with him. He was unpredictable and they were on foreign ground but she needed information, and she needed his help. She knew that, and so she swallowed and tried again.
"I would like to apologize for my behavior yesterday, it was uncalled for. I misplaced my anger and I am sorry for it." The wording came out wooden and she was fairly certain her fixed gaze on the stone behind his knee did not assist in selling her story but he was silent.
She waited for what seemed like forever before looking up to meet his gaze. But he just stood their, his expression calculating.
"I think you're right, that we only have each other and we should try to figure out a way…out." She wrung her hands before looking at him again but he was barely moving at all let along saying anything. She cast around desperately for something to say.
"I know you think I don't trust you and well I don't, not really. But I think anyone who would have us both taken in is not on any side we've encountered before. I mean if it were, that is to say, previous strategy implies that one or the other of us would have been imprisoned but our mutual imprisonment is certainly an anomaly." She hurried on her words tripping over themselves but she felt a certain degree of rightness in her convictions and so she kept talking, hoping eventually she would stumble upon a new conclusion.
"Therefore, we must be facing a new foe, one whose source of contention is against both of our moral and political view points, which means we must…work together." She finished lamely.
He took in her words, the slightly curious expression on his face never leaving, his head cocked slightly to the side so she knew he was listening.
"Right, well I'll just leave you to consider that then." She took a few more steps back and was just about to walk away when she heard him scoff.
She whipped around, a slight sense of hope blossoming within her.
"You think my father doesn't know I'm here?" His voice was dry and sardonic, but his eyes were nervous. He was being truthful.
"I…Well I assumed not considering the state you're in." She walked towards him again. Surely, no one would be so cruel, to do this to their own child, it was unimaginable. Hermione felt her guard go up. Perhaps it was too cruel, he must have an ulterior motive, when meant she had to be extra careful.
"You don't know anything, do you? You think you're intelligent because you hobble yourself carrying around books day in and day out but when it comes down to the real stuff, you've been living in a little bubble, it's precious." He sneered at her, his eyes narrowing in disgust. But at her or the situation she couldn't tell. Either way he was being more honest than he had been in a long time.
"Malfoy, I'm sorry." She uttered quietly before taking a few steps closer. He sat down suddenly, his back flesh against the wall. He looked defeated.
"My father not only knows I'm here, he put me here. He's orchestrating this whole thing so I can pump you for information." His voice came out dull but Hermione felt remotely detached from the whole situation, the shock at his revelation dulled.
"He wants me to find out all of perfect Potter's secrets so they can defeat him. And if they don't, I die." He let out a dry laugh at the last part.
Hermione moved closer, sitting across from him, the tips of their shoes just shy of contact.
"I don't know what to do anymore, so I'm giving up. You're obviously not giving anything up, and I don't really care anymore." He looked at her then, his grin soft and more sincere than anything he'd done so far.
"What would you do, mudblood?" The word came at her so quickly, cutting through the sympathy she had started feeling for him and she narrowed her eyes. This was surreal, why was he telling her all this.
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"Because, you stupid, girl, you're so ready to think we're on the same side, when really you're all alone." His smirk was bordering on furious then.
"You said the same thing just a few hours ago." She reminded him
"But two hours ago, I hadn't spilled my guts to you."
"But why did you?"
"I already told you."
"No you told me why you shouldn't have told me, but why did you chose to tell me?"
He was silent.
"Why Draco?"
"Fuck," he started, his eyes meeting hers, his voice dynamic," I dunno, maybe cause I'm sick of getting hurt, no matter what I do, they just keep tossing me around. It's entirely selfish, I want out of this hell hole as much as you do."
"Well," he noted, considering the dawning outrage on her face, "perhaps not quite as much, I may not be a Death Eater but at least I'm still considered a person."
She barely knew what came over her but suddenly her left hand was stinging and Malfoy was rubbing his cheek, somewhat stunned. He seemed thoughtful. But she shoved herself back a little anyhow.
"I guess I deserved that. Good to know you're not completely worthless." He smirked at her.
"Yes well, if you're so intent on getting out of here, then you need to stop calling me that. You're better than that." Her eyes widened at that, like she couldn't believe the words had come out of her mouth but his response was even more stunning.
"You're right, I'm-," he paused here to run a hand through his hair. "Well, fuck Granger, I'm sorry."
She was silent for a moment; unable to comprehend a show of decency from him but slowly she came back to herself.
"Right, you're, welcome." She smiled at him despite herself and gleefully noted he was struggling to contain his own.
"Unless you want to hold hands and start skipping around now, I suggest we actually starting considering a way to get out of here."
He snuck a sly grin at her and she nodded before kneeling and beckoning him over.
"My father would have a fit if he caught me know, at the beck and call of a –" he stopped himself, surprising both of them," well you." He looked sheepish but she waved it off and offered a quick laugh.
"There's a reason they haven't killed me yet, I'm worthless as Hermione Granger."
He opened his mouth to argue, but then he shut it as she shot him a look. But she felt slightly pleased at the harbinger of his attempt to defend her.
"Wait, let me finish, I'm not in the Order and I've been kept in the dark because, I'm not of age."
"What? You're a seventh year, of course you're of age." Here, it was her turn to surprise him.
"You're not following me, they know who I really am."
"What the bloody hell are you on about, Granger?" He had moved forward, he obviously believed every word of this, which was necessary, if he didn't the plan wouldn't go forward and she would never get out. Well, she considered him, she wasn't entirely sure how much she could trust him but not enough to know everything, just enough to help her. But, she could test him too, if he passed then she knew she could trust him but if he didn't, well, it would be his head on the line. Either way, he needed to believe her or this all would be for nothing.
If she could get him out too, that was fine, but right now, she needed to get out of this, because no one would be coming to help her. That's was the point of all this.
"You mean you still haven't figured it out?" Her voice rose delightfully into a girlish chatter that was completely unlike her and identical to a very popular young redhead.
"No fucking way."
He knew, and with that, Hermione Granger smiled at him before she promptly shuddered and blurred into Ginny Weasley.