The day's excitement made for a terrible night, and what little sleep she managed to find was filled with strange dreams she couldn't remember. She woke bleary eyed and nearly exhausted.

"Get up." That was how he greeted her, apparently already having been up for what looked like some time.

Things didn't improve from there. The headache that graced her took up residence just behind her right eye, and she found herself snapping at Malfoy almost without provocation.

"You know you're not fooling anyone," she said as she furiously rubbed at one side of her temple.

"What are you talking about?" His voice was all but dripping with homicide.

"You hardly ever eat, ever," she threw emphasis into the last word, "You can't keep this up forever. You have to eat something. Come on now, breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

"Mind your own business," the momentary unease in his eyes was again replaced by the expression he'd been carrying all morning.

"You have to eat something," her voice was raising, "Don't be stupid, your eggs aren't actually half bad."

"I'm sorry," he rose to his feet, "Stupidity seems to run in my family."

With a flick of his wrist the contents of his plate fell into the fire. She was on her feet in an instant, but he was already walking away.

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"Malfoy, slow down!" she shouted after him as she stumbled over a root on the trail. "Don't be ridiculous!"

He didn't answer, nor did he slow his pace.

They had been doing this for what seemed like hours, but the sun belied that it couldn't possibly have been that long. In either case, she was running short on her admittedly already short reserve of patience.

"Malfoy!" she gritted her teeth and ran to catch up with him. "What is the matter with you?"

"Do you have a list handy?" he muttered acerbically without looking at her.

"Would you stop, please?" she yelled.

"Stop what?" he asked.

"Malfoy!" She grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him around. "Listen, I'm sorry about last night, but it's not like it was my fault!"

"What are you talking about?" He was speaking to her again like she was stupid.

"Don't be such a prat," she seethed, "Could we just walk normal for a change?"

"Don't—touch—" Malfoy sneered as he pulled her hand from his shoulder by the sleeve, "—Me. Ever. Understand, Mudblood?"

"Oh, and that's not what you were planning to do last night?" she asked scathingly, sorry that she couldn't make it sound more mocking.

"Is that what you wanted?" he leered, "Sorry you got the wrong impression, but I guess a slut has to get her fill somehow."

He didn't seem particularly surprised when her hand came up, though his own hand flew to his cheek to tenderly probe at where the angry red splotch was forming. Before she could do anything else he had caught the offending hand tightly, his fingers digging into her wrist and making her wince.

"Stop it," she ordered and tried unsuccessfully to pull away from his grip, but he didn't relent. His expression seemed to be frozen into half a sneer, as though he was enjoying what he was doing. She wondered why she didn't feel afraid at all because of this, but she adopted a plaintive tone, with some difficulty, as his fingers continued to dig into her skin. "You're hurting me."

"Is that how it is?" he whispered, glaring down at her with cold eyes. "You can do whatever you want to me but I'm not allowed to hurt you?"

It just fit so perfectly. It was as though she had always known he would say that, as though she had been waiting for those words for a long time.

"You—always—hurt me."

She gritted the words out slowly, leaking into them every bit of the anger and pain that was rising in her, reveling in how it felt to release them, but also feeling the beginnings of fresh tears burning at the corners of her eyes. Every bit of the anger and abhorrence that she could ever claim to have felt towards him was thrown into the words, hoping that it might break through his façade, if only just a little. Just for once, she wished that she could hurt him. Really hurt him. It was such a strong longing that she almost struck him again, but she didn't want it like that. She wanted to make him feel for only a moment what he gave her without qualm or hesitation. If she could have burnt him alive where he stood at that moment, without touching him, she would have so without remorse.

"But you don't care …" Draco said, his feeble voice and the way his sneer had fallen betraying his confusion.

"I don't care? I don't care?" Hermione shouted, not bothering to restrain her furious exasperation. "There are things about me that I can't change, even if I wanted to. No matter how hard I work or what I achieve, those things won't ever change! Do you have any idea what that's like? To constantly be labeled as something you have no control over?"

Draco was stirred out of his stillness, his eyes flashing momentarily and his mouth moving as though to say yes.

"No!" she screamed. "No! You have no idea what it's like! You miserable self-centered—selfish prat! You'll never understand what you do! I'm always the Mudblood and you're always the precious Pureblood. But what good has it done? Where has it gotten you? You always said that we were stupid, but what about you? You could never have any idea what it's like! Absolutely no idea! I—I hate you. I hate you so much."

She watched Malfoy's own anger rise throughout her tirade, as though he was waiting for her to run out of breath. She watched him fight to keep his composure, but when she stopped, struggling with her last words, he said nothing for several long moments. Their glare was absent of any trace of the pleasantries they'd carefully built up over the last few days. Hermione took the time to regain her breath, almost physically longing for him to deny what she had said so that she could attack him again.

"There's no need to regurgitate what we both know, Granger," he said at last, as though settling for those words instead of something else. He glanced down to where his hand was still painfully clutching her wrist.

"Let go of me," she forcibly tore her arm away, ignoring the pain, "Don't ever touch me again."

"Don't worry about that, I'm tired of dirtying myself with you," the words came automatically, but his expression didn't follow the sentiment. By looking at his face there would have been no way she could've known he'd spoken the words at all.

His face was frozen as before, but not with the same countenance. It was neutral, the complete opposite of a sneer and holding a haunting twinge that echoed in his eyes, and she knew that something she had said had fulfilled its purpose.

She tried to hide her own sneer from her face, but the indifferent attempt only twisted it, as though half hiding it only made it worse. Though she couldn't see it for herself, she watched it through the reflection standing before her; the revulsion she saw was all the confirmation she needed.

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The girl only hesitated for another moment before turning sharply on her heel and marching away. As though she thought it might spite the boy that watched her, she impulsively veered off the path and started into the woods. Though the boy's eyes remained on her retreating form, her gaze was downcast and her face a working mixture of emotions.

After several moments of this the girl's pace faltered slightly, a nearly uncontrolled glee overtaking her expression. She looked over her shoulder and didn't seem at all bothered that she was being watched.

"Just keep that in mind, Malfoy," she called back with a smile, one hand clutching unheeded at her neck, "Wouldn't want you to forget."

With almost a skip in her step the girl continued until she was lost to the boy's sight. But even then he remained there for a long time.

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He had set up camp again, not any farther along the trail from where they'd parted earlier that day. When she found him, he was leaning back against a tree with his feet near the fire while he stared into it. He must not have heard her approach. Only after she cleared her throat did he jump slightly and see her.

Immediately he rose to his feet, and then looked as though he wished he hadn't. She shifted her weight almost nervously and worked her hands together, but remained silent. His expression was equally hesitant, but not nearly as neutral.

"I—uh," he cleared his own throat, "I thought you were going to leave."

"Well," her eyes darted off to the side and she fidgeted again, "I was going to … but I changed my mind."

He offered a careful nod. "That's good … I'm sorry … I really am. For … everything."

Her nod wasn't nearly so certain, but the hesitation passed as an airy briskness overtook her. "That's good, Malfoy. I'm sorry too."

"You shouldn't be," he looked down at the ground frowning, "When I said that—"

"—I understand, Malfoy," she interrupted quickly, "But there's something you should—um, see."

"What?" he glanced up at her.

"I found something that I want to show you," she gave him another smile. "When I was away—off."

"Okay," he said slowly. "But I really do want to—"

"Oh, don't be such a git," she continued to smile but she shifted her weight again, "I know. But come on, we have to go see it now."

"I—what is it, though?" he frowned again.

"Well—it's a surprise, of course," she had already turned, "If I tell you it'll ruin it. Now hurry up and I'll show you."

"But Granger," he started, but she was already hurrying away. Looking back at the camp, he opened his mouth as though to say something, but changed his mind and ran to catch up with her.

She led him off the trail and further into the woods, where the shadows were beginning to deepen. When the boy lit his wand, it helped somewhat, but the girl was running so quickly that it nearly made no difference.

"Wait," he said as he caught up to her, "Slow down."

"We have to hurry," she answered breathlessly, "There's not a lot of time."

"But what is it?" he asked as he stumbled slightly, "It can't be all that important if it's out here."

"Wait and see," she was still smiling, but whether it was because of the darkness, or something else, she didn't look back at him.

"Can't I have a hint, just a vague clue?" he said with a trace of humor, but if he was expecting her to answer in kind, he was to be disappointed.

"No," she said simply, as though it was unsafe to say even that much.

Several more minutes of this followed, their pace slowing perceptively as they went. The boy tried to talk to the girl a few more times, but she stayed silent. Eventually she adopted an air of looking for something.

"We're getting close," she finally said as she came to a stop.

He looked around suspiciously, but didn't say anything immediately. "Which way is it?"

Her smile was back again. "Oh, yes. Now I remember. Just a little further. But you're going to have to close your eyes."

"Close my eyes?" His amusement was still present, but it was giving way to something else.

"Uh … yes."

Maybe he chose to ignore the waver in her voice, but he did as she said and stumbled forward slightly in the direction she indicated.

"Granger?" he asked hesitantly when she didn't follow. His voice suddenly grew sharp. "Granger?"

"Petrificus totalus!"

The spell hit him as he was whirling around towards her. His arms and legs snapped together, and for a moment he swayed stiffly before falling backwards to the ground. The way he came to be laying left him with a limited field of vision, but his eyes snapped around and strained to see the girl as she moved beside him. For a moment she leaned over close enough that their eyes locked. She flinched at the contact and immediately looked away. For another moment she ran a hurried, but critical inspection over him.

"I was afraid that I wouldn't be able—" she muttered to herself before glancing back at his eyes as though remembering that he could still hear her. Taking a deep breath and drawing herself up, it took what appeared to be an effort to look him in the eye, though her own eyes couldn't seem to completely help themselves from wandering. "This is nothing personal. I hope you understand that. But this is—"

Her gaze grew excited again and her efforts to keep a corresponding smile from her face didn't altogether succeed. "This is what we both want, after all. It will be better this way. You'll be safe with the Order, even if they hold you as a prisoner. But you'll be out of harm's way, out of the war … and that's what you want, after all. And—well, this will be best for both of us. Now to make it look … just a little … bit …"

She pulled away from his sight for a moment, a frown of consideration creasing her forehead as she idly tapped her wand around in the air. On what appeared to be a whim, she muttered something and pointed it down at him. It took only the barest space of time for his visible skin to flush a scarlet so bright that it shone beneath his hair, even in the gloom.

"They'll like that," she muttered with a shaky laugh. But she stood motionless for a long time before she frowned again and reversed the spell so that he returned to normal. "I hope you understand. It's a simple thing really." She carefully inched forward until he could look at her again, but she pulled away when his eyes jerked back towards her. Another minute passed, with her uncertainty hardening into a stormy expression the longer she stared down at him. When she spoke again the indecision was gone.

"I won't be away long. Don't worry, I won't let your precious blood wallow in the dirt for long … just keep it in mind, Malfoy. Unless I'm very much mistaken, you asked for this."

And then with a turn she marched out of his sight entirely. A few seconds later and the sharp crack of apparation echoed through the woods.

The boy was left motionless in the darkness. It didn't take long before the sounds of the forest began to reemerge, until it wasn't clear that anything out of the ordinary had happened at all.

AN: The confrontation portion of this scene is probably the most important part of the entire story because, besides the opening scene, this is what the rest has been most influenced by.