In the weeks that followed, Hermione had removed the immobile spell, placed a silencing spell on him and levitated him to the cellar where he had been since. It had been her job to take care of him, to feed him, to take him things to do, ensure he was suitably comfortable and make sure he didn't die.

It had been a very difficult few weeks, most of the time, she couldn't bear to even make it off the last step, so she'd occasionally levitate his food to him and cast a scourgify spell on the whole room to make sure he was kept clean and hygienic.

On this day, she made it into the dimly lit cellar and walked slowly to the other side of the room where the door to the makeshift prison stood. She approached slowly and slid his plate of food through the gap in the bars.

"Here, its teatime" she said.

His mouth moved as he attempted to speak, but when no sound came out, he quickly stopped and hit his hand hard against the bars in a clear sign of frustration.

She jumped back and placed her hand over her heart, which had started beating almost out of her chest. It wasn't that she was scared. She knew she was perfectly safe behind the bars and the wards that she had personally set. The emotions she felt every time she set her eyes upon him were highly conflicting. She hated him for everything he had done to her during their Hogwarts years, she hated him for his part in killing Dumbledore, but the more she looked at him, the less she felt that deep seated hatred and began to feel sorry for him. He was, after all, just a teenage boy who got caught up in something he had no way of understanding.

She waved her wand to change his bed sheets and remove the left overs from lunch before she sighed and left the cellar.

It was almost as though Hermione were operating on auto pilot. She would wake up, have breakfast with Harry, Ron and whoever else was accompanying them on their day's mission, tend to Malfoy, mostly from as far away as possible, clean up, study, have lunch, tend to Malfoy again, clean up, brew potions, make tea, debrief with Harry and Ron when they returned, eat tea with the group, tend to Malfoy, again, clean up, study, then go to bed.

As the weeks and months ticked by, she began to withdraw into some sort of shell that she didn't know she had. Her jealousy of the boys' adventures and missions was building and, even though her original injury was well and truly healed, Ron refused to allow her to go with them. In the beginning, she'd argue, complain, try to make them remember how useful she had always been to their missions, to their accomplishments, but since her injury, Ron only saw her as his vulnerable girlfriend who needed protecting. After a while, she stopped asking to go. And now? Now she never argued. She kept her mouth shut as much as she could and avoided conflict at all costs. If she upset Ron, Harry would likely take his side and if it came to a head, she'd be out on her own. It kept her in a state that somewhat resembled a very obedient lap dog. And she had a feeling that Ron was very much aware of this.

One night, she sat in bed reading a book on advanced transfiguration. She was eager to continue whatever it was that she would have studied if she were completing her NEWTS, in hopes that, if the wizarding world came out of the other side of this, if she came out of the other side of this, she could still gain her education. She had finished a chapter on animagi, when Ron came in. They didn't technically share a room, but he slept in her bed most nights. He pulled off his shirt and climbed in under the covers.

"Merlin, Ron your feet are freezing" she said as he rubbed his icy toes up her legs.

"It's getting colder out there now. Plus this house is so draughty" he said.

"It's almost Christmas" she said quietly, thinking about what they might have been doing at Hogwarts if Dumbledore hadn't died and they hadn't had to go on the run. Her mind always brought her back to the 'what if'.

Ron laid back for a while looking up at the ceiling.

"Harry wants to go to Godric's Hollow" Ron said. His tone was so offhand, but Hermione grew instantly incredulous.

"That's madness, it's the first place You-Know-Who would expect him to go" Hermione said, slamming her book down on the bedside table.

"That's what I said, but he won't listen to reason. He thinks that dumbledore might have hidden the sword there" Ron said.

"Ridiculous" she said. When Ron didn't reply, she sighed loudly and scooted down under the blankets.

Ron opened his deluminator and turned out the lights, sending Hermione's room into darkness. By now she had come to expect the routine, so she didn't allow herself to drift off. She was right, right on cue, Ron's hands began snaking their way across her body and into her pyjama pants.

She remembered their first time together and inwardly cringed. It had been sloppy and messy and awkward, but Ron had been loving and kind and made sure that she was ok. Since then, their sex had been quiet and slow and routine. She didn't hate it. She never rejected it. But it also wasn't something that she ever looked forward to.

Ron climbed over her and she bent her legs around his slender frame. He positioned himself at her dry entrance and spat on his hand, using it as a lubricant, then groaned as he entered her. As he pumped away, she tried to position herself to get some friction, tried to pull him closer to grind his pubic bone against hers, but the harder she tried, the less Ron tried. Every time. This was how it was every time; however she never gave up hope that someday, he'd try something new or allow her to take the lead so she could show him how good sex could be. How good sex should be – for her at least. The clock had ticked by three minutes when she felt him quicken. His final thrusts were fast and shallow and within seconds he was done, collapsing beside her on the bed.

She reached down in the sheets and retrieved her pants, pulling them back on. Ron leant over and kissed her on the temple before yawning, rolling over and almost instantly going to sleep.

After cleaning herself up and making sure the contraceptive charm had been cast accurately, she laid there looking at the ceiling, counting for the hundredth time, the number of little swirls in the paint. Every time she counted, she seemed to get a different answer. Tonight, there was 578.

Hermione woke early the next day and headed down for breakfast. She was beyond tired after attempting to sleep beside a snoring Ron all night and was grateful to see Kreachure cooking bacon and eggs in the kitchen.

"Good morning Kreachure" she said, helping herself to a tea.

"Kreachure prefers to cook in silence" came the voice of the ancient elf.

"Right, of course" she said quietly, taking her tea to the library where her book on complex potions sat unfinished from the day before.

She read for an hour or so before the sounds of life began penetrating through the house.

She went about the daily routine, levitating Malfoy's breakfast to him from the bottom step, hesitating before turning and leaving without so much as a second glance.

She was walking past the planning room, on her way to the library, when she heard her name being called.

She quickly stopped, turned and entered the room, somewhat grateful that they now thought to include her.

"We are going to Godric's Hollow" Harry said.

"That's suicide Harry, they'll be waiting for you to show up" she said.

"We think we have an idea that will help" Ron said.

"Ron, we agreed last night that it was a bad idea" she said, looking to Ron to back her up.

"With all due respect Hermione, you aren't out there every day trying to find the Horcruxes or the sword or clues to something that will help. We're the ones risking our lives, trying to do something, anything, to get ahead" Harry said.

"With all due respect, Harry, you and Ron were the ones who insisted I stay back and research" she bit back.

"Hermione, you almost died" Ron said, placing his hand on her arm. It made her annoyed more than anything else and she shook it off, turning back to Harry.

"You're right, I did almost die because I was out there on my own, but I got myself back here and I got myself better, and you still demanded I stay back" she said.

"That was Ron's idea. Ron wanted you out of harm's way. Ron wanted to keep you safe. And here you are – safe" Harry said. It wasn't like him to lash out at her like this. She knew it wasn't him, it was the locket. It affected them all when it was near them, but somehow it affected Harry the most. It made them angry, sad, confused and everything in between. The piece of Voldemort's soul that they had to keep with them was basically driving a wedge in their lives and tearing them apart.

"I'm no safer here than I would be out there. I am drowning here. I am miserable, lonely, bored out of my mind. I can help you" she said.

"It's a no. Sorry Mione, but we know what we're doing now when we're together, just the two of us. It's safer that way" Ron said.

"Why bother telling me then? If you were just going to do it anyway, leave me behind as usual, then why bother telling me?" she asked, looking from Harry to Ron and back.

"I… We thought you should know" Ron said.

"Well, have a great time" she spat before turning and leaving the room.

She was beyond angry. She was treated like she didn't matter, like she was a stupid little girl who would get in the way, like she had no idea whether there could be danger there, or anywhere for that matter. Realisticlly, she was the most qualified to see signs of danger, as she had been there herself. She had faced an ambush all on her own. She thought back to everything they had done over the years. The three headed dog, the basilisk, fending off a werewolf, helping Harry through the tournament, Umbridge, the Department of Mysteries and then the battle the night Dumbledore died. She had always thought she had been preparing for the ultimate ending, something major. She had fought endlessly, been by their sides time and time again and here they were, throwing her to the wayside. Leaving her behind because… she had no idea why, and it made her all the more angry.

She entered the living area and found it occupied by the Creevy brothers who were trying to learn new spells. They waved enthusiastically, but she didn't have it in her to fake it today. She made her way up to the attic where she knew no one ever came, and began to sort some things that had been stored there. There wasn't anything of value or importance and the more she sat sorting aimlessly through the Black family objects, the more her mind was able to finally switch off.

In a box she found a pile of books that appeared to be somewhat interesting, so she conjured herself a comfy chair and sat back to read.

She found herself walking through the halls of Hogwarts, wondering how she got here. She looked around and saw that the walls were filled with cobwebs, the pictures on the walls were dusty and the floor felt grimy under her feet. She could hear a sound coming from a nearby classroom and made her way towards the door that was ajar. As she peered in, she saw what she thought was a mirror, but soon realised that she was seeing herself. It was at that point where she realised she must have been dreaming. The Hermione she was looking at had on her school robes and was in the arms of someone she instantly recognised. She closed her eyes so she didn't have to see but she could see it in her memory. She remembered this part of her life. She remembered the arms of the person who she used to meet in abandoned classrooms, she remembered the way she felt, the way he felt. How it felt to feel wanted, desired, needed, even if they were just brief stolen moments that no one knew about but them.

She opened her eyes and found herself back in the attic of Grimmauld Place on the chair that she had conjured. She looked to the dirty window and found that the entire day had seemed to go by, and it was now dark outside. She tucked the book under her arm that she had been reading when she first sat down, and left the attic. The clock on the wall of the fourth floor read 9:25pm and she gasped when she realised that she had slept through lunch and tea.

She hurried down the stairs, realising that she had, for the first time, not tended to Malfoy since breakfast. She had prided herself on being at least attentive to the person they had been holding prisoner.

She made her way to the kitchen and found that the evening meal for the group had been prepared and left on the stove in a pot to keep warm. She ladled some into a bowl, buttered some bread and grabbed a bottle of butterbeer from Ron's personal supply before making her way down to the lower basement. She wanted to levitate it to him, she didn't want to even go near the cage that he was being held in. The idea that she would have to look him in the eye was making her feel sick.

She approached slowly, carrying his food by hand, trying and failing in her attempts to avoiding spilling the stew that was moving around in the bowl. She figured it was better than levitating it with her wand, as that usually resulting in spillage anyway.

When she looked up, he was standing at the door, waiting for her. She chanced a look at his face and regretted it immediately. His face was pained, his brow was furrowed and his skin was pale.

"I uh… I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well last night, and I fell asleep" she said as she slid his bowl through the horizontal gap in the bars.

He took the food to the small table that stood in the corner of his tiny prison cell and ate hungrily. For some reason she stood watching him, unable to move. The images from her dream came to the forefront of her mind and she closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to clear them away. When she opened them, he was standing in front of her, his long slender fingers wrapped around the bars. He was looking directly into her eyes; his grey eyes bore into her brown ones.

"Don't" she said softly, shaking her head slightly.

He was still silenced and this time, made no attempt to speak, just stared into her eyes, into her soul. She was stuck, held there by his intense stare.

She closed her eyes and pulled herself out of his stare with a shiver.

"It's freezing down here" she said, stepping back and waving her wand, casting a warming spell over the damp room and placing a stasis charm on it so it stayed warm. She looked to the bed that he slept on and around the room to make sure it appeared suitably comfortable before she left.

She sat by herself in the kitchen eating, feeling more alone than she had in years. The house was filled with people, yet she rarely saw them, never interacted with them. This is what her life had become. When they initially came to stay, she thought that there would be group meals, activities, study sessions and games. The reality of it all was that they tended to keep to themselves, rarely left their rooms, ate alone and left Hermione to herself.

She took her plate and made her way to the stairs leading to the cellar. She didn't know why she did it, or why she wanted to. She sat on a chair in the corner and ate in silence, never looking to him, but knowing he was there to ease the loneliness. It was stupid, she knew that, to sit in silence with her prisoner to ease her loneliness, the only person who literally had no choice but to remain in her company, but at the moment, he was the most reliable person in her life. Funny, considering their history.

When she finished her meal, she summoned the book she had been reading and opened to the page she was on. It was getting late, and she wondered whether Harry and Ron had returned yet. If they had, they hadn't thought to look for her before going to bed. It made her angry to realise how unimportant she had now become to them.

When she realised she had read the same paragraph a dozen times without taking in a word, she closed her book, looked to Malfoy, who was now sitting on his bed staring at the wall, and left. She made her way through the house and to her room. Ron was thankfully absent, probably having gone to his own room for once after their disagreement.

She felt silly for telling them how dangerous their mission was, when clearly, they had come back in one piece and ignored her, just to make a point of it. She showered and went to bed, desperate for a good night sleep, despite having slept most of the day.

She closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come.

She woke early the next morning as the sun began to peek through the curtains. The house, as usual, was quiet. She felt refreshed, having slept all night without interruption for the first time in a long time. Usually Ron's snores kept her awake.

She left her room and crept across to Ron's room. She opened the door and peered inside but she was surprised to see his bed made and seemingly not slept in. Her heart began to beat fast as she quickly made her way to Harry's room, pulling the door open and finding it empty as well.

She ran down the stairs two at a time, making her way to the meeting room, which she found to be empty also.

She stood, thinking back to the previous day. She had just assumed they had made it back safely and had gone to bed without acknowledging her. What if they hadn't made it back at all?

She stood in the hall with her back against the wall, breathing fast, trying to avoid the rising panic. She tried to think of every rational explanation but came up empty handed.

Hermione knew. Something inside of her knew that something was wrong. They had gone to the one place where Voldemort knew Harry would go. Stupid sentimental Harry Potter, always thinking with his heart and not his head, and his best mate Ron, who is desperate to be by Harry's side, lest something great happens and he isn't there.

She had an idea, although it wasn't ideal. She ran down the stairs to the basement and made her way down into the cellar. She stood in front of the bars with her wand in her hand and looked to Malfoy who seemed shocked to see her standing there so dishevelled and panicked.

She waved her wand once and the silencio spell was removed.

"I need to ask you something" she said.

He made no attempt to speak, to yell, to cuss her out for silencing him and keeping him here. Instead he just stood there looking shocked and confused.

"Is there a trap set at Godric's Hollow?" she asked.

"Yes" was all he said, his voice rough and hoarse.

"Oh Merlin. Ok, Good Godric… I don't know what to do" she said, more to herself than to him. "They didn't come back yesterday. I thought they just came back and went to bed, but they didn't come back. Their beds were empty. I was glad to sleep by myself, I didn't think. I didn't realise. I had no idea" she went on, pacing, her panic rising.

"Granger…" came his voice, soft, almost unheard through the sound of her own breathing in her head. "GRANGER!" he said again, harsher, she barely heard him, "Hermione" he said softly, snapping her out of her panic. His voice was almost soothing.

She stopped pacing and looked to him. Saw him, really saw him for the first time.

"What do I do?" she asked.

Malfoy was about to speak when she heard a crash from above.

She turned and followed the sound up the stairs, through the kitchen and up to the ground floor where she saw a very dishevelled Harry and Ron in the hall.

"What the hell happened to you both?" she demanded, looking them over for signs of injury.

"Yeah, good to see you too Hermione" Ron spat.

"What's your problem? I have been worried sick" she said.

"We went to Godric's Hollow and there was no sign of any sort of trap. It was completely safe Hermione. We went into Harry's childhood home and found the sword" Ron said, his voice snarky. Hermione just stood there stunned, listening to their explanation of where they had been all night.

"The locket's been destroyed" Harry said, holding up the golden chain with a very damaged looking locket dangling from it.

"That doesn't explain where you were last night" she yelled.

"Are you not listening? We have destroyed the horcrux. We found the sword. We can now destroy all of them" Harry said.

"Harry… I woke up panicked. I thought you both had come home and gone to bed last night. I had no way to know you were ok" she said, feeling like she was being berated like a child for being concerned for their whereabouts.

"Well, we're ok. We stayed in Harry's childhood home, and we made a night of it. We're ok, now lay off" Ron spat as he and Harry headed for the meeting room.

Hermione remained standing in the hall, leaning against the wall, stunned. It was very clear that they were no longer the friends they once were. They had no consideration for her feelings or her worries. She realised at that moment that she was now completely on her own.

She retreated back down stairs to make breakfast and as she whipped up a quick porridge, she contemplated everything that had happened. Was she right to have been worried? Was she right to have been out of her mind crazy with concern? Was she right to assume something bad had happened to them?

With her stomach churning, she put together breakfast for Malfoy and took it down into the cellar. She didn't hesitate when she got to the bottom step, instead, she walked right up to the bars and slid his tray right through the bars.

When she looked up, she saw him standing there, looking directly at her, right into her eyes. His expression, as usual was unreadable.

She took in a breath to speak but he beat her to it.

"Is everything ok?" he asked.

She simply nodded in response, not able to control the current thoughts running rampant in her head, not able to formulate a coherent sentence.

She sat in the chair that she had occupied for most of the previous day and allowed her thoughts to run rampant. Ok, so they hadn't been harmed. That was good. But they were gone all night. If they had been harmed, by the time she realise they weren't there, it would have been too late. Part of this was her guilt over not knowing that they weren't even there. Part of this was her fault. Part of this fed into her every insecurity, her every concern and fear that she wasn't a thought in their heads anymore. That they had to spend a night in one of the most dangerous places just to get away from her.

"I don't blame you" came Malfoy's voice after a while, his voice still a little rough from not having used it in months.

She just cocked her head to the side wondering how he could be reading her mind now. How he could know what he's thinking without his wand to perform Occlumency. She momentarily considered redoing the silencio spell but she figured he may be the only person in the whole world she has left to talk to now.

"I couldn't ever blame you; I know this…" he indicated to his current living quarters, "… is just about the war. Honestly, I'd rather be here right now than a death eater in the comforts of home" he said.

He was talking abut him. About his predicament and not hers. He wasn't blaming her for him being held prisoner.

"I'm sorry…" she squeaked out, as tears escaped her eyes. She made no motion to wipe them away, to hide the pain she was feeling, not only about what had just happened, or about her revelation, but about everything. About hiding Malfoy down here like a prisoner, about having to come down here every day and check on him, feed him, make sure he was ok. It was all too much, and it was now that she was realising it.

"I just want to know one thing" he began, causing her to retreat and shake her head. "How could you look at me the way you do? How can you come down here every day and look into my eyes with such... Such... Indifference?" he continued. She closed her eyes, knowing where this was going. This was the thing she had feared. This was the reason why she had agreed to silencio him. To keep him from speaking to her. There was so much that no one else knew. So much that only he knew. So much that she didn't want him to say out loud, because then it made it all real.

"Have you forgotten everything? Don't you remember anything at ALL? How could you forget?" he went on. "How could you just..."

"YES! Yes, yes, ok, yes I remember, Merlin be damned, of course I remember. How could I forget? You were my tormentor for years, Malfoy" She cried out.

"But then?" he asked.

"But then..." she breathed.

"Hermione…" he whispered, gripping the bars with his long fingers.

She looked at his fingers on the bars and her own hands twitched as she held them was still as she could. Her first name on his lips sounded foreign but as soon as he said it, it sent her spiralling back to the year before, when things were very different. When she was different and certainly when he was different too.

AN - Next chapter and a couple after that will be flashback chapters. Prepare for 6th year Dramione!

I hope you're all enjoying so far. I am editing this fic as i go! Strange I know. Still, grammatical errors and words that are still words but get missed by spell check are kinda my thing. Please review. Let me know if you likey. This came to me as a random thought one day and I was literally writing it on my Samsung Galaxy Note with my pen thingy by hand.