They sat like that for a long time. Hermione listened to his rhythmic heartbeat and felt his chest slowly rising and falling at his steady breathing. "When we get out," she said softly, "you can come with me and Harry and Ron. You don't have to do this anymore; you can fight with us and help us win the war."
She felt rather than heard him sigh but he didn't say anything, he just pulled her to him a little tighter.
After a while, Hermione spoke. "My parents, they were killed. Tortured for information and then murdered…" She jerked away from him, a horrible thought occurring to her. "Oh my God… you didn't…" she could barely ask the question. She didn't know how she would be able to cope with the information if he answered yes, her eyes bored into his, almost pleading him to say no.
He shook his head, looking deep into her eyes, and said in a gentle voice Hermione had never heard before, "I heard about that Granger, but no, it wasn't me."
She leant her head back against his chest as tears welled up in her eyes. They spilled over and made the front of his robes damp. He must have known she was crying, Hermione thought, but he didn't mention it; he stroked her long hair soothingly and let her cry. "I wasn't there at the time," she whispered, "I was off with Harry and Ron. I cast a few spells of protection and thought that that would be fine. It never really occurred to me that the death eaters would come after my parents." She broke off as a sob threatened to overwhelm her. "I was much more concerned with Harry, Ron and my own safety, I thought we were much more at threat and so I concentrated more on us. It was stupid and selfish and arrogant of me."
"You didn't know," he answered quietly.
"I should have known! It was so obvious that it was going to happen. If only I had spent an extra half an hour on their protection, I could have saved them and all the pain that they went through. If only I had not been so self-absorbed. If only…" she was unable to continue, so overcome with grief was she.
Malfoy rubbed her back as she wept, "There was nothing you could have done. Even if you had been there or had spent an extra two days on protection spells. The death eaters have ways and means of penetrating all but the most powerful of those spells," he whispered. "It was Bellatrix Lestrange who did it. You would not have stood a chance. Don't blame yourself, it wasn't your fault."
"They were innocent, they didn't know anything; hardly knew there was a dark side of magic, and I was careful not to tell them anything about where we were going or what we were doing. They could have told her nothing. They were tortured and murdered for nothing other than they were my parents, how can you say it wasn't my fault?" Hermione felt fresh tears pour down her face.
"Hermione, listen to me. There was nothing you could have done; no way could you have saved them."
Hermione stopped crying abruptly at the sound of her name. She had never heard him call her that and it surprised her immensely. She lifted her head off his chest so that she could look at him properly, "What did you call me?"
He smiled slightly and rested his hand lightly on her cheek, wiping away a tear. "Hermione," he murmured.
The next thing she knew, he was kissing her. This time she did not feel the immediate revulsion that she had on the previous occasions, this kiss was gentler, comforting and did not imply that something else was to follow. She felt herself responding to it, kissing back with equal tenderness.
They flew apart as the door was flung open. Hermione felt a cold breeze and could see Lucius Malfoy framed in the doorway. With a look of revulsion on his face at what he had just witnessed, he said much more calmly than Hermione expected, "Draco? What exactly are you doing?"
She saw him rearrange his features into the all too familiar sneer she had grown to know and hate and glance over in her direction. "Father, there is nothing to do down here."
"So you thought that you would entertain yourself with that?" he asked.
He gave a half laugh, "Father, I am eighteen. I have needs. She may be a mudblood but she's something to do."
Malfoy senior raised an eyebrow but did not question him further. For the first time he looked over in Hermione's direction, he walked over to her until he was little more than half a metre away. "Where is Harry Potter?" he asked.
She shook her head, "I don't know," she answered quietly.
"Not good enough, Miss Granger," he replied menacingly. "I'll give you one more chance. Where is he?"
"I don't know," she repeated, a little more strongly.
She was shocked when this reply was not followed up with some kind of pain-inducing curse. All he said was, "This isn't the end, mudblood." And, turning back to Draco ordered him to come with him.
Draco got up and without so much as a backwards glance left the room after his father, shutting the door securely behind him.
Hermione was left alone in the cold, dark room, the events of the past five minutes flying around her brain. He had called her Hermione and kissed her, and what a kiss it had been! But then, practically in the next sentence he had called her a mudblood and referred to her as a piece of meat. She couldn't believe it, she had stupidly thought that he had changed, that they understood each other, that he was going to start standing up for himself but as soon as his father appeared he turned into that detestable little creature he had always been. "Father, I am eighteen. I have needs. She may be a mudblood but she's something to do." It made her feel nauseated.
It grew late and turned dark in the cell. Once again Hermione tried to curl up and keep herself warm but she was so cold and could do nothing but shiver. She wished, just for a moment, Malfoy was back in there with her, if only to keep her warm. Her mother had always said to be careful what you wish for and ironically the next moment the door was opened.
"Hermione?" he whispered.
She sat up, "we're back to that now are we?" she asked, roughly.
He knelt in front of her, "You know what I said to my father I didn't mean. You know I had to do it," he responded.
"'She may be a mudblood but she's something to do,' you had to say that?"
She could make out his wince in the darkness, "I'm sorry, it just came out. I didn't mean it. You know that."
"I don't know what I know."
"Granger," Hermione did not miss the switch back to her last name, "look, I'm sorry, okay? I don't have much time. I just came to bring you this." He handed her the blanket that he had given her before along with a tray of food and water.
"Fine, go then," she said ungratefully, taking what he offered and already taking a sip of water.
He got up to go, "I'll be back soon," and left.
She did not know what he had done to the blanket, enchanted it in some way she supposed, because it was as warm as a hot water bottle. She wrapped it around her and lay back, feeling the warmth penetrate her freezing body. It was comforting in a way that she thought Draco Malfoy probably wouldn't have been at this point. She just didn't know what to make of him; he had said that he hadn't meant those hurtful things but did she believe him? At the best he was a lying coward and at the best a two-faced manipulative ferret.
Hermione ate the food he had given her slowly, she had learnt from her mistakes, until it was finished. Her throat was very dry and her mouth parched; she was very glad for the water that he had given her. Her thoughts turned to possible means of escape, would he eventually come and get her out of there? And when that happened, would he let her escape? Or could she fight him? He had said that he didn't think he could ever truly hurt her so if she put up enough of a fight maybe he would just let her go? Somehow she had to find a way out of this place, preferably before Malfoy senior came back, as she was sure he would, to question her further. Or perhaps he would send another Death Eater?
Hermione certainly did not expect him to send his son but that is just what he did.
