Traitor
I woke up the next morning in utter warmth, buried under a stack of blankets that kept out the chill of the winter morning quite well. Yawning, I wondered why I'd woken up; then I realized that my palm was nearly burning. I yelped and leapt out of bed, dressing at lightning speed and then Disapparating immediately, reappearing in Lord Verloren's study. He was standing with his back to me, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window, his hand pressed against the glass, his cloak falling about him in an eerily still way. He seemed oddly frozen, crisp and sharp against the darkness of the impending snowstorm outside. "Join me, won't you, Hermione?" he said softly, his voice deadly.
I'd been in the act of walking forward, forever the faithful servant, but when I heard my name – my real name, not the pseudonym I'd been going by in his presence – I stumbled, just a little. Still, I strode to his side, chin up, hand curled around the wand in my cloak pocket. His face was of stone. "I have discovered that someone is doublecrossing us," he said, never looking at me, staring always out at the tiny flakes of snow that were beginning to fall. "Any idea whom?"
I mustered the strength to look politely curious. "No idea, my Lord," I said, striving to keep my voice from shaking, striving to keep my entire body still, although I knew that, eventually, my nerves had to fail. He wasn't forcing entry with Occlumency, but I figured that that time was relatively near.
We stood in silence for a long moment. When I glanced at him again, his face was twisted with pain and anger. "Tell me you didn't want to," he whispered, his voice hoarse, begging. "Tell me that they forced you, blackmailed you, put you under the Imperius Curse, that you did not do it of your own free will."
"Verloren, my name is Hermione Granger," I said quietly. "I have been the best friend of Harry Potter since I was eleven years old; the same can be said of Ronald Weasley. Surely you aren't foolish enough to think that I needed to be blackmailed?"
He shook his head, then touched my hand and wrapped his own around it. "I love you," he whispered, and I felt him shaking. "Just tell me you love me."
He kissed me then, hard, a kiss full of raw desperation. I kissed him back softly, placing my hand on his chest, arranging his hands so that they rested on my hips. I wrapped my arms around his neck, but then, after a moment, I pulled away.
"I don't love you, Shane," I said, softly, and began to walk to the door.
His voice was raw and shook when next he spoke. "I give you twenty-four hours of a headstart," he said. I turned to look at him, feeling oddly empty of any emotion. "Evade my followers and I for a full week, and you'll walk free. But goddamn it…" His voice shook even harder. "I hope you get away."
I nodded to him. "Happy hunting, then, Lord Verloren," I said, and then turned on my heel and Disapparated.
"I have twenty-four hours," I panted, "to get as far away from here as possible and to arm myself as well as I can."
I fastened my cloak at my throat and looked around the kitchen in desperation. Ginny was hastily throwing together a cache of magical items and potions for me – unfortunately, we didn't have six months to brew up Felix Felicis, which would have been very useful – Lupin was bringing my wand up to top performing ability, Tonks was giving me last minute pointers in Concealment, Disguise, Stealth, and Tracking, and Ron and Draco, along with Mrs. Weasley, were just sitting, watching all the activity like it was a tennis match; though there was worry in the brows of Mrs. Weasley and her son, Draco's face was empty. I wondered, briefly, what he was thinking.
The raw desperation that had seized the room was shockingly calming, almost. There was truly something to do now: protect me as well as they could. Mad-Eye had dropped off his good invisibility cloak, and Professor McGonagall was preparing to rap the Concealment Charm over my head. "It's going to fail after a few hours," she warned. "The spell wasn't mean for long-term use."
"It's fine," I said, waving the thought away and smiling gratefully at the former Transfiguration professor. "Thanks."
"I'll be waiting at the door," she said, and walked out of the kitchen.
"What are the terms of this game again?" Ginny asked me, now throwing food into the parcel as well, shrinking it as she did so, her wand waving madly.
"I survive for a week while evading him, and I go free." I sighed and smiled weakly. "Less time than Regulus Black of Karkaroff had to do, though, eh?"
"You'll be fine," Lupin said reassuringly. "The best thing to do would be to stay in London. You know the territory; granted, they do as well, but it's crowded, and wiping memories is always so inconvenient. The main thing is not to be seen. As long as no one knows your whereabouts, no word of where you are can get back to him."
I nodded. Ginny gave me the shrunken bag of supplies, small enough to tuck into my pocket; I hugged her goodbye. Tonks and Lupin embraced me next. I put my hand on Tonks's stomach and felt the kick of the baby within. I smiled. "Take good care of her," I told the Metamorphmagus, and she smiled. Then Mrs. Weasley hugged me, crying freely now. Ron stood and wrapped me tight in his arms. We stood there for a long moment as I gripped a handful of his vibrant red hair in my hand and rested my forehead against his shoulder, gathering strength from him for one last time.
"If you don't come back," he whispered in my ear, "I want you to know…"
"I know, Ron," I said softly. "I know." I disentangled myself from him, meeting his eyes one last time, and then I turned and walked out of the kitchen.
Then a hand was catching my arm and pulling me back; as the kitchen door swung shut, I was brought about to face Draco Malfoy, and he pulled me against him and kissed me, fiercely, as though he'd never let me go. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him back, guiding his hands to my hips, raising my hand to push back his hair…
Then we were apart again. "I love you," he told me, desperately.
I smiled, though it wasn't for the reason that he thought it was. "Wait for me?" I asked, embraced him one last time, and then allowed McGonagall to conceal me.
Something invisible opened the door, and I was gone.
Forty-eight hours later I was shivering under the invisibility cloak in a dark alley, waiting for dawn to come again and for the horrors and nightmares of the London night to go away. The thing I feared most was a Shrakil coming along, because I knew that they, like demetors, saw straight through invisibility cloaks. I was tempted to perform the Concealing Charm again, but I feared that any magic on my part would draw attention to my location, so I decided not to risk it.
Sitting there, on the cold, hard ground, I thought back to days before when Draco Malfoy had kissed me with such a hard passion…and I smiled, thinking of that, because at least he could love; yes, at least he could love.