Chapter 26

Freedom

"I can't believe I just said that. I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to say that. Why did I just say that?" Hermione squeaked shrilly.

Draco smirked, "panic makes you rather funny to watch Granger."

"Arrrgh! Why did I-? Malfoy- you- you- you- YOU! It's all your fault! It's always your fault!" Hermione shrieked.

"Me?"

Draco's eyes narrowed.

"How is you blabbing a secret my fault?"

Hermione struggled for words- something she rarely had to do. She finally spluttered angrily, "Well, you, err, you talked to me!"

Draco cocked an eyebrow. He wore an omniscient look that Hermione hated; she was the only one who was allowed to be all knowing and wise and superior. The look highlighted Draco's ridiculously handsome face. It made Hermione feel incredibly self-conscious, adding fuel to her already fiery temper.

Stupid pretty-boy! I can't even comprehend it- me sitting here- the ugly duckling- in my far too lovely nightie, with stupid handsome Draco Malfoy. Beauty- it's the one area where I can't beat him… point me in the direction of a classroom and I'll gladly run circles around him… but here…there are no books, there's just me and him. And he's beautiful. I'm not. I am ugly, and he knows it.

Hermione blinked back hot, angry tears.

"It's still your fault Malfoy! You evil little child, get OFF my BED."

Draco showed no sign of moving.

"FINE! YOU WANT TO STAY? STAY! BUT ACCEPT THAT YOU DID SOMETHING WRONG! You manipulated me!"

Draco lifted the teapot from the tea tray. With careful dexterity, he aimed the pot's spout towards the first of the two delicate china cups. Gold, brown tea spilled into the cups hollow. Steam rose off the hot liquid. A rich herbal aroma tickled Hermione's sense of smell. She fought off the sudden feeling of calm settling over her, instead pointing violently to the china.

"What is this?" She asked, in disbelief.

Draco looked at her innocently.

"That would be tea. In a cup."

Hermione felt her eye twitch.

"No, Malfoy, what I mean is, what is this doing here now? Why is it that you are pouring tea in the middle of my argument? I'm trying to be angry with you at the moment!"

Draco lowered the teapot to the second cup. Tea gushed from the spout.

"So?"

Hermione felt like she was going to explode.

"So you should be concentrating on what I have to say! I can't argue with you, if you aren't arguing back! Or even listening!"

Draco set the teapot back onto the tray.

"Who said I wasn't listening?" He pursed his lips, "tut tut. Granger, I'm not trying to distract you, or ignore you, I'm just trying to make an effort. It would be nice if you tried too. If I've said it once, I've said it twenty three times; we are on a schedule here."

Draco ignored Hermione's scathing gaze and continued, "Now, stop feeling guilty about leaking that silly House Elf's "big secret." In the future, I'd also appreciate it if you didn't vent your rage at me. You're the one who slipped up, after all."

Hermione opened her mouth to scream at Draco, but he merely waved her protests away.

"Uh- uh- uh. What did I just say about venting your rage?"

With great effort, Hermione managed to prevent herself from leaping on Draco like a wild Hippogriff. The desire to tear Draco limb from limb was oh-so powerful, but logic helped her push it aside.

Draco smirked. He was obviously enjoying himself.

"We all slip up at some time or another Granger."

Hermione raised her eyebrows sceptically. She could scarcely believe Draco had just uttered such words. 'We' and 'us' were not part of Draco's selfish vocabulary. It was generally 'me,' and 'I.'

Draco continued calmly, "Everyone has accidents."

Wait for it, Hermione thought cynically.

"Well, everyone except me."

Bingo.

"Pathetic," Hermione muttered.

Draco smiled smugly, "drink your tea."

Hermione scowled, but didn't argue further. She reached for the proffered cup.

Draco added the falsetto to his voice again.

"So, now we are all settled, and calm, and completely over the house elf affair, I do declare, Miss Granger, that we gossip."

Hermione sipped her tea through pursed lips whilst she silently fumed.

"Don't vent your rage at me, you're the one who slipped up after all." WHAT AN OBNOXIOUS PIG!

She eyed Draco scathingly, not at all impressed by his attempt to lighten her mood.

"What shall we gossip about, Miss Granger?"

Hermione ignored him, focusing instead on gulping down her tea.

Draco was persistent. His voice rose to a ridiculously high height.

"Boys?" He tried.

Hermione felt her eye twitch involuntarily.

"Love?"

She shook her head, no.

"Clothes?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, and raised the teacup to her lips to drain the last of its remains.

"Well then, what about House elf romance?"

This was completely unexpected, just as Draco had planned. Shock winded Hermione. It seemed to rip every gasp of air from her lungs, leaving her struggling to breathe. Red spots danced before her eyes. She inhaled suddenly- a reflex action- and choked on the tea. She spluttered and coughed, her lungs were screaming for air. Tears streamed down her face. Draco stared at her, his eyes wide.

"Granger, are you okay?"

Hermione wanted to scream that, no, thanks to him, she was once again not okay (she was actually, quite far from okay) but was forced to concentrate on trying to not suffer 'death by tea.'

Draco laughed, "Because if you're not, that would make this even funnier!"

Hermione continued to choke on the tea. She managed to cough out a weak cry, "help."

Draco smirked, "I don't have my wand on me sI'm afraid."

Hermione gurgled, "hit- back!"

Draco sighed. He thumped her on the back- hard (too hard, in Hermione's opinion). She coughed up the tea dregs. Hermione later reflected that, perhaps, she should have just let Draco use a spell. His indecisiveness would have, of course, caused Hermione to choke to death, but, as she later considered, perhaps she would have suffered less. In the past she had experienced similar situations with a variety of juices, milks and other such beverages. All of which had been expelled through, not her mouth, but her nose, via a hard thump on the back.

As was tradition, the liquid bypassed her major airway and tea remnants shot out her nose.

Draco burst into a peal of laughter.

Hermione burst into tears.

I can't win.

Draco's laughter halted.

"Come on Granger, you've got to admit, you're pretty hopeless. That was pathetically hilarious. You looked just like a snorting pig!"

Humiliation coloured Hermione's cheeks. She put her face in her hands, and wept into her lap, defeated.

"Granger?" Draco tried softly, his tone now humourless.

Hermione shook her head. She'd had enough. She no longer cared what Draco thought of her. She couldn't care less. It was all too much. For the first time since she had been kidnapped, Hermione realised she was not in control. She was trapped, just like the nightingale. And, just like the nightingale, she too was slowly, but surely, dying. Draco had broken her spirit.

"I just- I just- I want t- to go home," Hermione sobbed, "I-I want my family- a- and- ha-Harry- R- RON! And I- I w-want t-to see the s-ky- t-the st- stars!"

She expected this news to prompt Draco into launching into another one of his "women's emotional rubbish put us behind schedule" rants. Frankly, she couldn't bear to hear his tirade. She couldn't bear to hear him speak.

Draco then did something completely unexpected; he pushed the tea set off the bed. It smashed into the cool stone below. The sound of crashing china ricocheted throughout the tower. Thousands of splintered pieces tinkled against the tower floor.

This snapped Hermione out of her teary reverie. She looked up. Draco gazed at her. His eyes glittered dangerously. He proffered his hand to Hermione. Her sad eyes met his flashy, intense look and a shot of electricity coursed through her veins. Fear struggled to overpower her sorrow; intinct told her to fear Draco's sudden kindness. She shied away from his hand. Draco reached out and grabbed her tiny paw. Their gaze shattered as Hermione blinked. Tears rolled down her pale cheeks.

She decided she didn't care what happened next. Draco could put her under the Imperious Curse; she would prefer it to her current torture. Draco pulled her off the bed silently.

This is the end. I will be imperiorised. Harry and Ron will perish. I too will be disposed of. I'll never see my family again. It's over. If only I was stronger…I could have endured this pain and saved my friends. But, I'm not. I can't. I really am the damsel in distress…I can't save myself… I have to be saved! I am a stupid fairytale!

She followed Draco to the door. He tapped his wand on the heavy wooden frame, and it swung open. The spiral stairs Hermione had struggled against so fiercely when she had first arrived at Malfoy Manor seemed easy to trample now.

It's because I'm not fighting against destiny… I'm embracing it…

This thought disturbed Hermione. She shuddered as she silently padded the steps behind Draco. Their journey was long. Draco never seemed to loosen his firm, yet gentle, grasp of her hand. He held her carefully, as if afraid she might break. This surprised Hermione. What difference does my condition make now? Crush my hand if you desire it Malfoy! I could do with the distraction. She thought bitterly.

When they at last descended the tower steps, Draco made a series of quick, successive turns. He darted about the maze of darkened stone corridors as quick as winking. Hermione's confusion grew.

Why are we running?

Draco moved as fast as a Nimbus 2000. Yet, Hermione found she did not have to struggle to keep up. Her tears blurred her vision. She was soon completely reliant on Draco's agile feet. Her heart pounded in her chest.

Fear trickled down her spine; what if she became lost in the dark blurred maze? Hermione felt herself tighten her hold on Draco's hand.

Draco turned his head in surprise. He winked, and Hermione felt her knees buckle. Now she was really confused. She stumbled, slowing their progress. Draco didn't falter for a moment. He tugged her upright again, and pulled her along. Turning to her once more, he whispered, "Trust me."

A million thoughts exploded into her head at once. They whizzed about like fireworks. One seemed to screech out above the rowdy commotion.

WHY? Why should I trust you? You have tortured me with your cruelty. You have made me criticise myself and second-guess my own beliefs. You have weakened me. You have embarrassed me. You have laughed at me. You have frightened me. You have locked me in a cage and starved me of affection and kindness. So much so, that whenever you throw me a scrap of humanity, I feast upon it! For it is always short lived, always followed by more hate, more cruelty. You have hurt me Malfoy, scarred me. Oh yes. Your antics have caused me grief. If it had just been mere grief, I think I could have withstood such pain. No, what has finally sapped me of my strength is none of these vices. What hurts me most is not your arrogant, obscene, unruly, unkind, pretentious talk…no…what hurts me the most is that deep down, Draco Malfoy, I know you are a good person. And deep down, I think that you know it too. But you choose to ignore it. This is something that I don't understand. And now probably never will. I have at last accepted it; you are a puzzle I can't solve.

'Trust' you? I could never trust you Malfoy, because you deceive everybody, including yourself.

Hermione felt Draco speed up.

The truth is, I'm too tired to keep trying to solve the puzzle, too tired to work out how to save my friends. Draco, you have exhausted me. The tower has exhausted me. Without inspiration- even just a little freedom to light my darkened path- I am stuck.

Hermione narrowly missed slamming into a stone gargoyle- proof Draco was ever vigilant.

If I am injured now, what does it matter?

She shut her eyes, and placed herself wholly and completely in Draco's care.

Why not? She thought recklessly.

She felt them begin to rise- Draco was ascending another staircase.

Lucius's chambers must be up here.

Round and round the spiral stairs. Up, up, up. Always higher. Always faster. Dizziness overwhelmed Hermione. How she longed for the journey to end.

At last, they seemed to reach the final step. Draco slowed to halt. Hermione heard a door unlock and creak open. Draco led her through the arch. Her bare feet padded over cold stone. A light breeze brushed over her face. It whipped her hair about her shoulders playfully.

How lucky, Hermione thought, Lucius is. He has open windows in his room.

A fresh wave of tears stung her eyes.

Draco chuckled softly.

"Still sad Granger? Silly girl. Open your eyes," he instructed.

Hermione did so. She blinked, sensitive to the sudden burst of light. Shapes and figures slowly clarified. When, at last, her vision had sharpened fully, she let out a yelp of joy.

She was not in Lucius's room.

She was not going to be placed under the curse. She was going to crack the riddle that was Draco Malfoy.She was going to save her friends. She was going to save herself.

She was new and fresh and energetic and glad all at once.

She was outside.