Tragedy Ensues!
Another city is set aflame. The Dark Lord pinpointed the arsonist and sent him to Azkaban; he believes that we will be safe from now on.
Be sure to tune in on Friday!
-Rita Skeeter
"Don't you think it's a bad idea to leave the two of us alone?" Hermione asked.
Cleo shook her head. "We can't leave him alone here with all of our things, who knows what he'll do. It'll also be a good idea to get you both to get along with each other, I get headaches whenever you both talk to each other."
"What if you stay, and I go out and find jobs."
Cleo gave Hermione a sympathetic smile before patting her shoulders. "To put it lightly, you aren't the best at talking to people," she headed towards the door, "make sure to secure the room."
Cleo closed the door and locked it.
Hermione began to flick her wand towards the door—the furniture crowded around the door, locking the two of them in.
She looked over to the bed Draco had been sleeping in. His hands held themselves in a fist, a permanent scowl on his sleeping face. His suit jacket acted as a blanket. His things on the other side of the bed. He was protective of them—never letting Cleo or Hermione touch his things.
Cleo and Hermione didn't trust him enough to fall asleep at the same time as him—opting to take shifts to watch over each other. Every night he woke up and scowled at them before going back to sleep.
Hermione peered through the curtains of the window. The dusty, ripped screen allowed her to see small glimpses of the outside. Small pockets of what they had to face every day. She only wanted to see life through the obstructed view of the fence, taking in only the smallest pieces of the world.
"Don't overwhelm yourself, sweetheart," her mother would tell her. It was easier said than done, of course, but she had always forced herself to follow her parent's direction. " If it was too much, then take it one by one. There's no reason to rush."
But life was a whirlwind, gripping onto her feet and dragging her down. No breaks. No way to gasp for air. No way to think about the day before her. The only thing that mattered was surviving the day. She was no longer a child willing to falsely believe in the hope that someday life would get better.
She turned to the beds, the blankets neatly folded. Walking towards them, she laid her head on the pillow. Just to rest, she assured herself, she wouldn't sleep while she was on Draco watch. Her eyes ached to flutter closed, but she forced herself to stay awake. She could feel herself spacing in and out.
She focused on her breathing.
In. 1...2...3… Out. 1...2...3…
She could feel her pulse starting to speed up. The breathing wasn't working, and instead, she started to gasp for air. Pulling it in and spitting it out even faster than before. The linoleum tiles started to engulf her. The walls closed in. In her head, she imagined the string that tied her down. Sucking her back in and making sure that she never left.
Her eyes flew open.
It was like she had begun to process everything that had happened.
The fire. The burns on her skin. The Death Eater staring at her.
The torment that she had experienced in her school because of him. He was the reason that the Death Eaters had gone into Hogwarts. He was the reason that Snape had to kill Dumbledore. He was the reason they lost.
She could feel the burning hatred bubble in her stomach again. It was all self contained—festering in a bottle inside of her.
He had the audacity to walk into the pub and make fun of her life—and now he was the one traveling with them. Just as desperate as she was when he inserted himself back into her life. But, why?
He was going to hurt them, there was no other explanation. He was going to watch them suffer and then he was going to turn them in. There was no other explanation for why he was here. He was going to kill her, or at least he was going to be one of the reasons she would end up dead.
She had wanted to die before, but the fear always seemed to stop her movements. But somehow the thought of him being the one to kill her, for him to draw her blood and let it pool beneath his shoes made her want to fight.
She felt the lightheadedness begin to consume her. She needed more air. She tried counting her breaths again but it was no use. Her vision blurred and her heart pounded.
Somewhere in the background, she thought she heard the creak of the floorboards and the flush of the toilet. She tried to concentrate on the sound of the door, the flick of the lightswitch, and the dripping of the water.
She tried to force her eyes open, and could just make out his outline, staring down at her.
"To think I would be stuck with Granger."
She focused on pulling air in.
In. 1...2...3… Out. 1...2...3…
In. 1...2...3… Out. 1...2...3…
"Pathetic," Draco mumbled, "doesn't even seem to have herself together."
Her eyes narrowed at his blurry figure. "You're the disgusting one—just leave! You'll fucking kill us just like that!"
"Like what? I haven't done anything. You're the one who seems to be freaking out over nothing."
"Nothing?" Her voice raised, scratchy from the lack of air in her body. "You're the reason why we're in this mess! You're going to hurt us!"
Draco tensed. " I'm the reason why we're in this mess?" He chuckled darkly. "You and your little friends didn't save the day one time and you seem to blame it all on me. Don't you think I wanted you to win? For fuck's sake, Granger, how daft can you be?"
Hermione glared at him as she continued to focus on her breathing. The anger mixed with her fear seemed to keep her steady.
"I. am. not. daft."
He seemed amused as he watched her wrecked state. He enjoyed watching her break down to her bare bones. The girl that had it all finally was broken.
It was sick, but he'd never been more entertained.
The hiccupping mess that laid in the bed next to his stayed frozen in her spot.
" Granger?"
She blankly stared at him, too tired to respond. Her vision was blurring ever so slightly, but she could still see the far-away man.
His brows furrowed. He preferred it when she wasn't able to argue with him, but he began to get concerned that this fit she was having would kill her.
He slightly panicked when she didn't open her eyes. "Granger. Wake up," he sighed before walking towards her, "you can survive a fire and not this?" He began to shake her awake, her body falling limp. "Fuck—fuck! Cleo's going to kill me! Granger, wake the fuck up! I'm not trying to get murdered today."
Hermione mumbled an incoherent response. He let out a sigh of relief before pushing her back onto the bed.
He shuffled back into his chair, watching as her breathing started to even out.
He could hear knocking on the door. He gripped the broken vase in his hands as he approached the piles of furniture.
"It's Cleo!"
Draco narrowed his eyes as the door creaked open. The furniture beginning to get pushed back. He could see the silhouette of a person walking towards him.
"Calm down, Malfoy." Cleo moved the rest of the furniture out of the way. "Would like a little help here!"
"How do I know it's actually you?"
"My name is Cleo. I owned Hole In The Wall. You used to drink the most expensive whiskey, but after Jean started working you bugged her instead of me."
Draco released the shard.
"Thanks for the help."
"Why didn't you just use magic?"
Cleo looked at Hermione. "She put a charm over some of the furniture—they're not going to move unless she's the one who moves the furniture. At least she's finally sleeping."
"Something like that," Draco mumbled.
Cleo whipped her head to face him. "Something like that? What did you do?"
Draco raised his hands in the air. "Why'd you both think everything always has to do with me? She panicked and then fell asleep. I don't know what happened. And I don't really care." Draco walked over to his bed and began sorting through his belongings again.
Cleo narrowed her eyebrows accusingly but didn't elaborate, there was no need to. She placed the back of her hand on Hermione's forehead. "Thankfully she doesn't seem to have a fever. Are you sure you didn't do anything?"
"I'm very sure, you can even ask her when she wakes up."
Hermione's eyes began to flutter, her hands immediately rushing into her pocket to take her wand. She gasped for air. Her hands trembled as she pulled out her wand and pointed it at Draco.
"Calm down!" Draco said. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Hermione didn't look like she cared, a wild look in her eyes, her wand continued to point at him. "How can we be sure? Cleo! Make sure he doesn't have a weapon on him!"
"It's alright—"
Hermione shook her head, her body trembling in some sort of fear. "Just check!"
Cleo began to pat Draco down making sure that Hermione could see her exact movements. The wand in Hermione's hand lightly shook.
"He doesn't have any weapons on him. You can put down your wand now," Cleo said.
Hermione slowly put down her wand. Her body waiting to calm down. "Sorry," she muttered. She shakily stood up and walked to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Draco and Cleo looked at each other before turning back to the bathroom door. Cleo immediately ran towards the door and began to knock on it.
"You good in there, Jean?" Cleo turned towards Draco. "I don't think she's okay."
He rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed. "Did you find job openings?"
"Jean can very well be sick—and you only care about job openings? Would you even work? Do you even know how to work?"
Draco tightened his lips into a thin line. "If you can't tell, we aren't the best of friends."
"Oh, I can tell but it doesn't mean you can be an asshole."
"Just tell me if you're found jobs or not—I don't need you to yell at me."
"Well...I did, but you're not going to be happy with it."
"What is it then?"
"There's a job opening for a cashier—"
"Doesn't sound that bad."
Cleo gave him a small, condescending smile. "It isn't the worst, I suppose, but that's one job. There's three of us."
He paused, the information she gave him slowly sinking in. "Did you take the job?"
"Well, yes. They would have given it up. I suppose you should have come with me—"
"You suppose?" He spat out.
Cleo rolled her eyes. "Well, if you hadn't been sleeping then we wouldn't have to stay and watch over you. It's not like you woke up when we tried waking you up."
"I don't need either of you to watch over me. I'm an adult and can take care of myself."
"If you're so capable, why are you still with us? You can go find a job later, but I'll tell you how hard it is to find a job when you both lack social skills."
"I don't lack social skills, networking is in my blood."
" Networking is in my blood ." Cleo repeated in a mocking voice, "maybe with Death Eaters, but you know nothing about surviving in this world. You wouldn't even be able to—"
Their heads snapped to the bathroom door as it creaked open.
Hermione walked out of the bathroom and slowly made her way to the main room. Her hands clutched at her heart. "I'm sorry—I didn't know what happened. It was fear—I swear! I would never want to hurt you—" Hermione cut herself off, "I don't particularly care for you, but that wasn't anything like me."
"It's just like you said, Dursley, the girl you knew died in the Battle of Hogwarts."
By the time the daily execution rolled around early the next morning, Cleo had already left for—once again leaving the two alone. The small cracked television apparated into the room.
The air was always tense around them. If they weren't arguing or making petty comments, they just sat in silence.
" Welcome!" The television echoed. " How lovely is it to see you waiting here," the Dark Lord said.
Draco was facing the television, but his eyes were closed and his hands were clenched. Hermione found herself focusing on him rather than the execution in front of her.
His fingers were tapping at an uncomfortable pace. He would tap his fingers, the rings that littered them would make a distinct sound as it hit the surface. He would mouth words—if she had to guess, it would be the same curses that he had repeated when he was on the stage.
" This execution is especially important — today we take back our safety!" The Dark Lord triumphantly said, " I will be personally executing this arsonist who believes that burning cities is a good idea."
She could hear the loud cheering from the audience.
He must've felt her gaze on him. He slightly faced her. A questioning look on his face, silently asking why she was staring at him.
They made eye contact but the screams of terror from the prisoner captured their attention.
They watched the screen carefully.
A shiver went down her spine as the man, covered in chains held by four Death Eaters, fell to the stage. Blood splattered onto his face.
"I didn't do anything! I swear! Please!" The man cried out. The Death Eaters conjured a gag into the arsonist's mouth. The muffled cries brought a smile to the Dark Lord's face.
Hermione tried to look away from the television but she couldn't find a way to look away—it was a routine execution after all.
Draco took the vase of flowers and threw it at the television. She didn't flinch as the vase shattered and fell to the floor.
"We don't—we shouldn't have to watch this," he seethed, but the television continued to play the execution.
The voice of the Dark Lord continued to play through the television. " We do not —" the Dark Lord's voice began to break, " Avada Kedav —"
"Is there any fucking way we can turn this off?" Draco said as he approached the television.
"No."
Draco didn't seem to care for her response, opting to hit the television continuously.
"Stop! We don't have the money to pay it back!" Hermione said as she hesitated to pull him away.
Draco stopped hitting the television. The screen had fully cracked. Hermione pointed at the screen, " Reparo," but the screen didn't repair itself. "You've broke it!"
"At least we know you don't have to get your eyes checked," he sharply said, "pass me one of your bandages."
Hermione frantically shook her head. "No way—I need them."
"If you can't tell," he raised his slightly cut fists, "I also need them."
"It's your—"
"Fault?" He crossed his arms. "It seems like you forgot that you're the one who gave yourself those burns. Now hand them over."
Hermione backed away from him, trying to make sure that she kept all of her bandages. "No. It has my blood on them, and I'm sure you don't want any of my blood on you."
He gritted his teeth. "Fine," he took the thin sheets from off the bed and ripped them, "guess we aren't going to have blankets."
" And with blood on the floor, we are free, we are safe." The television disapparated once the audience had finished chanting.
Hermione's eyes widened. "We haven't repaired the television! Fuck, you're in so much fucking trouble, Malfoy. We won't have the money to pay this."
"I have money, Granger—some of us aren't dirt poor."
"This will be galleons! We could be spending it elsewhere."
Draco looked disinterested as she rambled about their dropping funds. "This money is mine—not ours—I can spend it however I want to."
"In a few days you'll be starving, learn how to prepare for the future! Just because you have money now, doesn't mean it'll last forever."
"Seems like you forget that I'm made of old money."
She scoffed. "Generational wealth? Of course, I know. That's all you seemed to talk about when we were at school. No, if you were still as wealthy as you said, why haven't you left? You have the funds to live your entire life in bliss—so why follow the roaches?"
Draco's eyes darkened, the hurricanes formed in his eyes. "It's easier to kill the roaches when you follow exactly where they hide. If you're lucky, you can get to where every one of them hide at night."
Hermione's lips tightened alongside her fists. "Kill me now. Don't be a coward. You're all talk and no action. Running your mouth—the same one that leads you into trouble," she spat, "what are you going to do? Call your Death Eater friends to kill Cleo and I?"
"There's fun in the lead up, don't you think? But, I must admit, I wouldn't kill you. As long as you've prevented my death, I'll prevent you from enjoying whatever comes after death."
She bite her cheek in frustration. "Whatever. Let's go find jobs before you spend all of your money again."
"And who's going to look over the place?"
Hermione took the keys from the table and put it in her pockets. "It's our last day here. I can send a patronus to Cleo to tell her where we are and where we should meet up."
Draco began to pack. The ripped sheets. The small leftover food they had. His guitar.
Hermione checked around the room to find any other things they could take, but there was nothing of value.
"Come on, Granger, we don't have all day."
Hermione huffed and moved the furniture from out of the door. "Cover your face—I don't want to deal with Desperates and Despondents trying to crowd you."
She would be lying if it didn't scare her to travel with him. There were always people staring at them. The attention unnerved her. She knew he would blow her cover eventually.
"Just group them as one person," he said irritably, "they're all the same. Anyways they'll be able to figure me out—I am wearing a suit after all."
"You raise a good point, we'll fix that later. Just cover your face."
"With what?"
"Fine. Keep your head down instead."
He grumbled some incoherent words before he angrily looked at his feet. "Happy now?"
"Very much."
They quickly walked past the motel-keeper before Hermione opened the door. People cautiously looked in their direction before returning to what they had been doing.
Slowly, they both had made it to the main hub of the city. The people sleeping on the floor multiplied.
Draco watched the vultures eat one of the bodies. Blood splattered onto the gravel. He grimaced before looking back at Hermione—who kept her head forward.
" Head down, Malfoy," she said through gritted teeth.
He never liked listening to her, but he could feel the eyes of the people around burning into him. Footsteps coming closer to him. He put his head down.
But it was too late.
The Desperates had already seen them. The glint of his silver ring shone in their eyes.
He had two options. To tell Hermione and face the fact that she was right. Or he could try to solve it in his own way.
He quickly yanked Hermione's wrist and took her into the small convenience store near them.
She pulled her wrist away from him, before rubbing it—almost like she was trying to get rid of the feeling of him touching her. "What was that for?"
Draco nonchalantly shrugged. "We can ask them if there's a job opening."
"I already told you—there isn't any."
"Fine, but I'm going to get something to eat."
"Already?"
"Yes, you can go wait outside if you're so peeved about it."
Hermione's eyes narrowed at him and for a moment, he thought he would get caught, but she walked out the door. "I'll be waiting outside, don't take too long."
He nodded his head. He waited for her to close the door before he let out a sigh of relief.
No, he would wait until he was sure that the Desperates would leave him alone. He walked around the aisles, pretending to look for snacks.
Snacks. Water.
He cautiously picked up the small bar of chocolates. His mother loved to eat chocolates. Every Valentine's day his father would buy her a large box of chocolates.
It was jarring to him. A day meant for love and laughter being chalked down to presents and gifts. When he briefly dated Pansy, he had bought her some sweets. Maybe then he could believe that he wasn't a shitty boyfriend. Maybe that's why Pansy broke up with him—not that he was sad about the fact—chocolates could only take a relationship so far.
Valentine's day was supposed to be a day full of selfless love. To dedicate one day to the person that you loved most, but it was all futile in the end.
But why would they sell chocolates in a place that cannot afford it?
He set down the chocolates and grabbed the small bottle of clean water and brought it to the cash register.
"That'll be a galleon."
Draco placed the galleon into the worker's palms. He watched the door, hoping that none of the Desperates had walked passed and forgot him.
"What's taking you so long?"
Draco jumped as he turned around. Hermione stood in front of him, her arms crossed.
"I was looking through the things," he said as he grabbed the water bottle and placed it in his bags.
Draco took one last look at the door, hoping that the Desperates had left, but he could see the Desperates at the surrounding stores, waiting for him to leave.
He turned back to face Hermione—who looked at him sceptically.
"What's wrong, Malfoy?"
His eyes continued to flicker between her and the door. "Nothing, let's get out of here." He waited for her to lead the way out of the door as he followed her. He did his best to cover himself from the Desperates.
He tried his best.
" Malfoy!" They yelled.
Hermione whipped her head to see the Desperates walking towards him. She could feel Draco tense, but when she slightly turned to face him, he had a stoic expression on his face.
"What are you doing with the low-life?" One of them asked.
Draco quickly took Hermione's hands and placed them behind her back as he held a tight grip on them. "This ones getting in trouble—broke a few laws."
Hermione scowled at all of the people around her. They all looked at her, eyeing her up and down. She began to struggle against his grip—maybe then they'll believe she's his prisoner.
They laughed. "Do you need help there, Malfoy?"
He shook his head. A smirk on his lips. "No, I'll handle this one myself."
The Desperates all nodded. "How'd you feel about the exe—"
"I have places to be," he said. Irritation flashed in his eyes. "You all can leave, now."
The Desperates didn't look too happy with his answer, and opted in crowding around him more. Draco pushed Hermione closer to him, using her as a barrier between the Desperates and him. "We are a great addition to become Death Eaters."
Draco pulled Hermione closer to his body and slightly leaned towards her right ear. "I need you to struggle a bit more and when I pinch you—apparate us."
He straightened his body as she began to struggle against his grip. "And what would you offer to the Dark Lord? Loyalty? Trust me when I say he has enough of that."
The Desperates frantically shook their heads. "No! We are great at rounding people up. We are pure!"
"Purer than me?" He mockingly asked.
Hermione wasn't sure if it was all in her head, but the ring that littered his fingers began to burn her head. The once ice-cold ring hot as a flame dug into her skin. She was sure that the Malfoy crest was imprinted into the side of her hand.
The leader cowardly bowed their head down. "No! Not like that! We have magic—trained in Dark Magic! I even went to Hogwarts! Just like you, not many can say that anymore."
"You say you can round people up? And yet you can't round this one up?" One of Draco's hands left Hermione's arm and traveled to the front. "She's broken plenty of laws, didn't you know?" His hand traveled down her body and into the pockets of her pants. "I'll have my fun with this one."
Hermione grimaced as he touched her body. Her once fake struggles became real. She thrashed around as he took out the whiskey bottle.
"An alcoholic too? This one should've been easy," he glanced at the label of the bottle, "seems like she's been stealing too. No way she could have had the money to buy this." He threw the whiskey bottle at the Desperates feet.
The sound of the bottle breaking echoed in Hermione's heart. It had been in slow motion for her—not being able to save the bottle that she held close to her.
Hermione's eyes widened, but before she knew it his hands were in her pockets, digging for her wand. She tried to pull away from him—she wouldn't be able to handle it anymore if he broke her things.
"We'll do better next time!" The Desperate said.
"There is no other chance with the Dark Lord." Draco took Hermione's wand and pointed it against her head. "Pathetic, aren't you? Wasting my time."
"We'll do better," the Desperates pleaded.
From the corner of his eyes he could see another Death Eater, Dolohov, walking towards him. Dolohov had a small smirk on his lips once they both made eye contact.
Draco peeled his eyes away from Dolohov and back to the Desperates. "Better is not enough," he grimly said.
He tightened his grip on Hermione before pinching her and apparating away.