Chapter Twenty-Six

We land hard on wet ground, and I try to keep what little air there is in my lungs.

My ribs burn and I subconsciously grab my side, not immediately noticing that Hermione had already gathered herself and was now eyeing me.

"Malfoy-" She starts.

"I'm fine." I drop my hand from my side and try not to look at her face, because I already know what it holds. "I don't need your pity. Where are we?"

"I don't- it's not-!" She takes a breath and pinches the bridge of her nose,"We are in the forest of Dean...it's where Harry, Ron and I first started this-this whole plight." I allow myself to see her now; she has a frown etched onto her soft features and her eyes search the darkness taking in every tree, twig and rock. It's as though she's seeing memories, remembering torments that happened here that are invisible to me.

"When Potterwatch said the bit about skipping stones, I knew it was Ron telling me where they were...only I would know what that meant."

My face flushes and my heart beats a little faster as the smallest bit of anger seeps into me when she speaks about the Weasel.

If she had such a fantastic time here with that twat, why does she look like she's about to break apart?

I shake off the thought and attempt to re-focus Hermione.

"Right, then where did you set up camp last time? Because I don't see anything."

"Well, you wouldn't would you?" She says matter-of-factly, "All of the wards we put up would block your view. We could be in the middle of the camp right now, but if no one allows us to see it…" She spins a bit to the right and then to the left.

"I have a hard time believing they would just let us stand in the middle of their camp looking like a couple of nutters...actually, me yes, they probably would, but you, no, not a chance." I let a small smile play across my face, and she turns bright pink before spinning around back to the right.

"This way, it should be this way." She says and starts marching.

"Maybe we should set up camp until the sun comes up? So we can confirm we're on the right path?" I stay in the spot that I landed when we apparated here; it makes more sense to wait it out until the morning, but Hermione stops and speaks over her shoulder to me.

"I only have one sleeping bag…"

"Well, I don't mind sharing." I smirk and raise an eyebrow, but instead her shoulders stiffen.

"That's not going to happen, Malfoy. Just...come on." She starts walking again and this time I follow, but my smirk only grows.

"If you change your mind-"

"Not going to happen, Malfoy. Stop being a pig." I stop talking, but my expression never changes. That is until I remember the last time I slept next to her; the time that she is still very much unaware of. Then my cocky little smirk disappears and I recount everything that's happened since she's coming crashing into my life..

You mean into your family's dungeon..

As I follow her, I debate admitting to sleeping next to her that one night. I struggle with whether or not to tell her how she quieted when I touched her, how I woke to her facing me and her body formed perfectly against mine, how it touched some part of me I didn't even know I had to lay nuzzled in her hair...how cold each inch of me felt leaving her skins embrace.

We come to a clearing and I ultimately determine that now is not the time to express any of that.

It may never be the time.

"They should be somewhere near here-" Hermione's words are cut off by the sound of a bubble popping and a loud bang following shortly after it. The next thing I know, I'm flung backwards through the air. My body turns sideways, and my back hits a tree full force.

I fall and land in a pile on the ground, my ribs are on fire and I can feel bruises actively forming on my back. I struggle to regain my breath, and I'm hardly listening to what's going on around me, but I do hear the Weasel's voice yelling to Hermione, asking if she's alright.

"Ron, Dean, put down your wands! He's with me, he's with the Order! He-" Her screams become muffled in my ears as a searing hot pain courses through my body. I can feel myself writhing on the ground, small twigs on the forest floor cut at flesh that isn't covered by clothing.

"I SAID STOP!" The pain ends, but is replaced with sharp aches and the breath that I never really caught stays farther out of reach this time.

"Hermione-!" The Weasel's voice sounds stricken. "Give me back my wand!"

"He's with the Order now, Ronald! He's already passed the questioning and been accepted; what you're doing is-"

"Necessary, Hermione! He's one of them!"

"He's not! Listen to what I'm telling you!" There's a rustling of leaves and I'm trying to make my way to my knees. My mind still muffled, my body aching in pains I didn't know possible.

"What is going on?"

Saint Potter…

"Hermione! You got the message and you...you brought Malfoy?" His voice doesn't sound angry, maybe concerned, but mostly surprised.

"Yes, what I've been trying to explain to these two: Malfoy...rescued me. He's changed his allegiance and is working with the Order now, with us!" Hermione's tone is riddled with aggravation, and I don't blame her; chatting with these numbskulls is like explaining long division to a tree frog.

"Impossible-" Weasel begins but is cut off by Potter.

"Maybe, maybe not. What is clear is that we're outside of the safe zone and are speaking rather loudly. There could be snatchers nearby. Pick him up, bring him to my tent and we'll figure this mess out." And then, as if an after thought, "And fetch a healer, would you?"

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