"20 Questions," Chapter Eight

TW; Insinuations of non-consensual touching.

"Where's the little mudblood hiding?"

Her hands were trembling, shaking. Sweat forming on her palms, on the pads of her fingers, dripping onto the floor. Her knees quivering, struggling to hold her own weight up. She wasn't safe, no protection. No wand, no one was there with her. No one. She was alone, sitting on a hard cold floor, trying to not make a single sound.

"Quite foolish of you to wander all alone. I know you haven't got a wand."

She was holding something, her hands wetting this item due to her profuse sweating. And she couldn't make out what it was, cloudy. Her vision was blurry, possibly from the tears pooling in her eyes, threatening to fall. Everything around her wasn't clear. She couldn't even remember where she was, why she was there, or who she was hiding from.

"Of course, this isn't a shock considering the filthy blood in your veins."

The girl only felt one emotion. She was terrified. Terrified, alone, and hiding. Hiding from a voice that sounded so malicious, it sent chills down her spine every time she heard it. And the things this voice was saying, whoever it was, they wanted her buried 6 feet underground. She wanted to take a deep breath, calm her nerves, but she couldn't risk even making the faintest sound, afraid that the rapid beating of her heart against her ribcage was making enough noise. Anything would give her location away.

"If you won't come out, I'll find a way."

Lights turned off one by one, leading up to her. One by one, darkness emitted the area she was in. Until complete blackness swallowed her. Now, she definitely couldn't see. The girl was scared stiff but she still managed to bring up one of her shivering hands, covering her lips that quivered. Her hand was grasping her mouth so tight, so hard, it was sure to leave a bruise. No noise.

And despite all her efforts, she had made a mistake. It was a reflex. Bringing her knees up to hold them, but she did so with too much force, too quickly. Made her knock down whatever she was holding. The item slipped, grip not quite working when you're a sweating wreck. It hit the floor.

Then suddenly she felt a breath on her face. Pungent breath. Evading her space, clouding around her. Then it whispered. Whispered a spell and she couldn't do anything, didn't react fast enough.

"Immobulus."

The shaking stopped. She lost control over everything, her hand falling from her face. Everything had come to halt. The anonymous voice had used a freezing charm on her. Now, she was really defenseless. It was in these moments where she had started to reevaluate her decisions. Should she have made a run for it?

"Up close, you're not much to look at but you're still a girl, aren't you?"

An unwanted touch turned into multiple unwanted touches. Hands, hands that weren't there to caress her, take care of her, were touching her. In areas she thought would be touched by someone she loved. Under the spell, she couldn't move. Couldn't scream for help but she tried. She tried anyway.

The tears finally came out, salted droplets sliding down her face.

Even if it wasn't of much aid, she tried.

Silence.

A sharp gasp left Hermione's throat as her upper body shot up from her bed. Her breathing was uneven, wet curls sticking to her forehead. She felt like she was sinking into the bed, sheets wanting to choke her, trap her. She had experienced what seemed to be a nightmare, a vivid one. Too vivid. In fact, she thought if she spoke, no sound would come out, no one would hear her. Hermione felt filthy, she'd shower as the soon as the sun rised.

Hermione's feet found the ground as she quickly jumped off the bed, peering outside the window. Another restless night. She had woken up at the hush of night. She couldn't bring herself to go back to sleep, a shudder raced through her mind at the thought of shutting her eyes and having to endeavor that terror again, even if it was just a figment of her imagination. It felt like Hermione was watching the events take place yet at the same time, enduring the events. It was odd.

It had been so long since she had experienced a nightmare, so why now and why this one? She grew desperate, looking out the window, feeling so alone. Feeling so paranoid that she would hear the voice again. She knew she would get over this, get a hold of herself by the break of dawn. Her eyes skimmed her dormitory, vision being clear now. Her line of sight landed on a quill laying by the side of a piece of parchment paper.

Dried ink droplets were scattered on the parchment, some bled. She had never finished writing a letter to her parents and now it seemed that it was perfect timing. She walked over to the small crooked table. With an unsteady hand, she picked up the quill, dipping it in black ink.

Dear mother and father,

How have you been? I hope you've been staying healthy and that everything in the dentistry office is coming along smoothly.

October is approaching soon, but it feels like it's been ages since I was last waving goodbye to you on the express. I miss you all dearly. I'm actually writing this to you before dawn. I've been having trouble sleeping, woke up from a nightmare just now. Everything just feels weird as of lately, I'm a bit scared if I'm being honest. Don't feel quite like myself but don't worry too much. I know I'll get it sorted out. I always do.

I do wish I was with you guys though. Write back to me as soon as you can.

Love you lots, Hermione.

The letter was done, put into an envelope and sealed. She looked over to her bed, considering laying down, but instead she squirmed, decided against it. Instead, she figured she'd take her letter to the owlery even if it was after hours. She was still in her nightgown, and didn't make any intention of going to her wardrobe.

Hermione was a prefect, a solid excuse were she to encounter someone. She rose and exited her dormitory, light on her feet making her way to the owlery. She would poke her head out, precariously, after every turn, making sure no one was there.

When she entered the owlery, it was a flurry of loose feathers swirling with the cold wind from dark night. All the owls seemed to be sleeping, few were awake plucking their feathers. Hermione skimmed around, seeing if there was an owl willing to deliver her message. Crookshanks didn't exactly have wings. A pair of bright yellow eyes caught her attention and she approached.

"To Hermione Granger's parents." She let out a soft whisper. The owl stretched, spread out their wings, and took off holding Hermione's letter between their beak.

It was rather bright for it being so late into the night. Full moon. It was a full moon, white light shining into the owlery, reflecting off cages. A marvelous sight. She stood, admiring the view, slowly pulling herself back to the present, forgetting about her night terror, like she said she would.

But that was cut short. She heard a sound, her ears perked up. She could've swore no one was in the owlery with her. Panic began to fill her bloodstream as the memories of her nightmare started coming back to her. But this was different. She had her wand with her so she spun around, facing darkness, and cast a lumos.

"Who's there?" Her voice quivered slightly, and she saw a shadow emerge from a corner. Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her, she never was fond of the darkness, especially now. Her grip tightened on her wand.

"Fuck's sake, turn off that bothersome light."

"Malfoy?" Hermione's eyes met Malfoy's as he emerged out of the dark corner. She lowered her wand, casting a silent nox. With no light from her wand present, the moonlight creeped back into the owlery, and now it reflected off Malfoy's platinum hair, shining on one side of his pale face.

It almost looked poetic.

"Afraid of me?" Malfoy asked with a light sneer to his tone. Hermione would never admit to that, being afraid. Clear sign of weakness.

"Afraid? No. Startled? Perhaps. Why are you here?" She gave him a curt response, cutting to the chase. She hadn't expected to see him here. Perhaps, he was owling his parents like she was, but this late?

"Not that it's any of your bloody business but I think it should be evident." Malfoy brought his hand up. He was clutching a letter, the ends poking out. He had a strong hold on it, his ring imprinting on the parchment.

"It's after hours. No student is allowed out." Her nose held high in the air with her arms crossed. He could easily be given detention with McGonagall. Lose house points, even.

"Yet Gryffindor's know-it-all is out here after hours. Shocking." He brought his hands up, shaking them in opposite directions, doing an exaggerated expression as if what Hermione was doing was the worst thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"I'm a prefect." She retorted, her fists already beginning to clench.

"Not exactly in prefect attire, are you? I must say your nightwear looks as dreadful as you." The insults were beginning to roll in but not to Hermione's surprise. She's rather drawn as to why he didn't greet her with an insult.

Malfoy wasn't wearing nightwear or anything that would compliment going to sleep on a bed. No, he was still in his school robes, Slytherin tie undone and around his neck, one of both ends laying on each of his shoulders. His white dress shirt untucked from his trousers, wrinkles beginning to form. He looked like he hadn't gotten any rest.

"And from what I recall, you've missed every prefect meeting meaning you're no longer one." Hermione continued, edging closer to more personal topics. She was rather curious as to why he had stopped being a prefect. Draco being in charge, getting people into trouble, throwing orders around, is something he always seemed giddy about. So why the sudden change?

"Thinking of me, are you?" Draco titled his head to the side, the ends of his lips slowly turning into a smirk.

"Why aren't you a prefect anymore?" She ignored his snide remark and dropped the question onto the platter.

"Not interested in playing one of your stupid muggle games. What do they call it? Charades?" Malfoy rolled his eyes so far back, Hermione thought he was going to fall back onto the floor, fainting.

"20 questions." Hermione corrected him, raising an amused eyebrow.

"Yes, well, I, unlike you, wasn't born in a muggle's pathetic world. Pardon my lack of expertise." Draco rolled his tongue in his mouth, making a tch sound. He, too, was getting annoyed.

"I, unlike you, was born in a muggle's world yet I consider myself to be an expert in both worlds. Wizarding and muggle." It was Hermione's turn to smirk. He narrowed his eyes at her, then looked away. His jaw clenched, visible and prominent.

"Still haven't answered my question." Hermione tapped her left foot on the floor. She wasn't expecting an answer but being persistent was one of her characteristics.

"Don't plan on it." He still hadn't faced her and silence fell upon them. Hermione was thinking of just leaving it at this but his voice filled the air again, "Alright, I will. In exchange, I ask a question and you answer it." He turned his head to meet her gaze again.

"So, you are interested in playing 20 questions." Hermione let out a sarcastic chortle. Malfoy inhaled a deep breath, ignoring her cheek, and answered the previous question that was pending.

"I'm not a prefect because I haven't got the time for childish school duties. You certainly do." The cheek went both ways.

"I–" Before Hermione had the chance to go on a rant about how being a prefect had a very important meaning, he cut her off with his question.

"How was I wrong?" His hands slip into the pockets of his trousers, letter disappearing from her view.

"Sorry?" She was expecting an insult, something along the lines of how she's not a true witch because of her bloodline. Not an actual question.

"That day in Snape's classroom. You said I was wrong about the Legilimency spell." His jaw rolled vaguely, clenching it.

"Oh. I–... You did the wrong casting motion. You're just supposed to point it at your victim. You see–" Hermione fumbled with her words, not having anticipated answering this but she got cut off.

"You've said enough." His mouth slightly parted, tongue sucking in air through his teeth. He looks away, distant again.

"I wasn't finished." Hermione refutes.

"Oh, but I think you are." Malfoy hisses, snapping his poisonous glare at her.

Threat, that's what he conveyed. On a normal day in her normal life, she would've turned around and walked in the other direction. No, on a normal day in her normal life, she wouldn't engage in a conversation with Malfoy if it wasn't necessary, necessary topics involving detention and the hospital wing. If everything was normal, she would be avoiding him and his death wish on her.

But she was far from being normal on a normal day. Here she was. So she stayed, and asked a question that had been lingering in her mind. Confused her. A question that led to many other questions.

"What did you mean by further?"

Malfoy's expression changed. No longer venomous. For a quick second, she could've swore his eyes glistened.

"That day at the lake..." She paused, inhaling a shattered breath before continuing. "You told me you wished you would've pushed me further." His eyes began drilling into hers but she managed to finish,"what'd you mean by that?"

"Rather interesting question."His expression befuddled, mouth twitched.

"Answer it then."

"And if I don't?"

"I... I'll report you to Mccongall." That was a poor menace but it was all she could think of. She just wanted an answer, something to stop her from jumping to conclusions. A definite answer.

"Like I give a bleeding fuck about that." Malfoy scoffed out, a second time using foul vocabulary. Though when he uses cuss words, it sounds natural.

"Langua–"

"I would've found it amusing, more so than it already is." He answered. It was a stunner. Stunned her. She hadn't actually banked on him answering.

'Than it already is?'

Before she had a chance to voice her thoughts, he continued, with smug undertones wrapped around every word, pulling her down, suffocating her.

The Devil's Snare.

"It's almost like a reward. A reward to know how much I affect you, how much you loathe me. Fueling the hatred you have for me is diverting. Ruining your day will always be the highlight of mine."

Malfoy inched closer to her, painfully slow, with every sentence he said and finished. Hermione's feet were glued to the floor, it seemed, because she made no signal to move.

"And I'm sure the feeling is mutual but my words..." He paused his words, not his movements.

It was then, when he was directly in front of her, facing her, towering over her, his shadow swallowing her, that he breathed out his final answers.

"My words will always hurt you more and it feels great, significant. That's why it's almost a reward. Nothing about you is rewarding to me. And that's what I meant by further, mudblood."

There it was again. Spearmint. She felt his cologne, strong, this time.

It was evident. His only intentions were to hurt her yet she stayed. Godric knows why but she stayed, feeding, giving into it. And somehow, this was some sort of solace. A solace to know their hatred for each other remained the same. The only normal thing these days.

"That's where we're different. Ruining someone's day will never be the highlight of mine. It's cruel and vile, much like you." Hemione stood her ground, forcing herself to look at him. Meet his glare with her own.

"And that's why you're a Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin." He emphasised his words, a leer rawling onto his face. She thought he was finished, but there's only been wrong a few times in her lifespan. This was one of those rare times.

He wanted it to end with a question of his own.

"Why do you let yourself get affected by me?"

Fusillades started to go off in the pit of her stomach. Traveling through her bloodstream, onto her face, making it flush with a deep shade of red, heat radiating. She was vexed, beyond.

Malfoy knew she wasn't going to answer, wasn't expecting her to, wasn't wanting/needing her to. It was clear, clear as a day with no clouds. He left her there, spun around on his heel, and strode out of the owlery.

Without his letter.

When he took his hands out his pocket as he made his exit, the letter slipped out. He didn't notice. She didn't call out to him as he left.

Draco,

Have you figured out a way? Do not let yourself get distracted by anything or anyone. This is crucial for you and I. Stay safe.

Narcissa Malfoy.

She knew she shouldn't have picked it up. She knew she shouldn't have read it. She knew she shouldn't have kept it.

Multiple shouldn'ts. Zero shites.

Though she's not sure why she did any of these actions.

But she did anyway.