Disclaimer: I no steal.

Draco was furious. How dare she slap him! It was just…unacceptable. Inconceivable. He had never, never been slapped by a girl for kissing her. He was completely unused to the concept of a girl not wanting to be kissed by him. Especially when he had already kissed her once! How could someone be so misleading? She certainly hadn't slapped him inside the tree! Hell, she had kissed him back.

Now, though Draco wouldn't admit this to himself, he was obviously feeling some embarrassment here. He had gone out on a limb, kissing her like that inside the cave. His emotions had been running high after that dream and kissing her had felt extremely good, in a way that was embarrassing in itself. And then—she had completely rejected him. She, as in, Hermione Granger. Had rejected him, Draco Malfoy. With a slap.

It was just unbelievable to him.

His cheek (as well as his pride) still stung as he strode angrily through the tunnel of the cave, away from that…that…deceptive bitch. He was leaving her, to where he didn't know, or care. He was going to get away from this fucking forest if it killed him. He would Apparate if he had to. To hell with the Death Eaters. If they followed him, so be it. He would run. Just so long as he wasn't surrounded by these damn TREES anymore!

He reached the mouth of the cave and stepped out into the dimly lit forest. It was morning, a wet morning, and a few bare spots in the canopy of trees overhead allowed thin streams of sunlight through. He surveyed the area quickly with his eyes. Should he go back up the slope they had come from? Or enter into the thick, dark woods straight ahead?

An image flashed quickly before his eyes: Granger sitting alone inside of the cave, crying, bleeding from the head. It made him wince.

He quickly shook it away. The slope or the woods? He forced his mind to think only of this. Slope or woods. Slope or woods.

He glanced back at the cave mouth.

Slope or woods. Granger doesn't matter. She slapped you. She doesn't want you around, and you don't want to be around her. You don't want her. What does she matter? She's a stupid mudblood. Slope or woods. Hurry up and choose. She doesn't matter. If she dies, great. It's her own damn fault for slapping you.

Another image: a Death Eater coming upon her unconscious form inside of the cave. She wakes up. She's screaming.

Slope or woods. Hurry up and fucking choose. Forget about her. If they get her, it's her own fault. She deserves whatever she gets.

"Quite the decision," said a voice to the left.

Draco spun—and saw no one. He drew his wand.

"You don't need that," said the voice from nowhere. "It is I."

And then he appeared, standing off to the left under the branches of a tree. It was the man from yesterday, the one who led Draco to Hermione. Draco did not put his wand away; he pointed it firmly in the direction of the man's chest.

The man stared at the wand. "Well, if it gives you comfort…" he said.

"What do you want?" asked Draco. "And who the fuck are you?"

The man paused, as if deciding which question to answer first. "I am Maven." He stepped forward slightly from under the branches. "And what I want—or rather, what Harry wants—is for you to deliver Hermione Granger to safety."

Draco's features hardened. "And why would I want to do that?"

Maven stared hard at Draco. He had piercing eyes, and Draco felt uncomfortable under their gaze. He felt like he was being…searched.

"Because she will die here in this forest if you don't," said Maven.

Draco felt his stomach clench. He ignored it. "And you expect me to believe that?"

"I expect," said Maven, stepping forward more, "that after I leave, you will walk back into my cave (which I so graciously led you to last night), apologize to Miss Granger for your ungentlemanly actions, and lead her through the tunnel until you reach the opposite entrance. Outside you will find a small cabin. You will bandage her head and let her rest. And then you will find a way to get her back to the Order of the Phoenix, without attracting the attention of your former friends."

Draco was taken aback by these words. This man knew things he had no business knowing. (Ungentlemanly actions!)

"And what if I don't?" asked Draco, his face still hard. "What if I walk away and leave her to die?"

"Mr. Malfoy," said Maven in a lower tone, "there is no possibility of that happening."

And then he was gone, without any warning whatsoever.

Draco was left staring stunned at the empty space where he had been. Maven had spoken those last words with such unwavering confidence, as if stating a well-known fact. Draco's normal reaction would have been to go out of his way to prove the man wrong…but he realized after only a moment's thought that there was just no point. The truth of Maven's words still reverberated in the air and Draco felt it heavily.

There was no possibility of him leaving Hermione Granger to die.

Ron sat in his room at the Burrow staring forlornly into space. He felt so…useless. After Harry, Hermione, and Draco had disappeared, Lupin had insisted upon his going home. (As had his mother). This felt so wrong…being stuck in the house while Harry and Hermione were out doing Merlin knows what.

No one knew where they were. They could be dead for all anyone knew. But Ron tried not to think about that. He tried to think that they were off having an adventure together and that they would come to collect him any moment now. And that Draco had somehow died along the way.

It just didn't make sense to him, though. Why would they take Malfoy but not him? Why would they not tell him where they were going, or even that they were going? Why would he be the one left out?

He was feeling more than a little self-pity. And he was worried. Damn worried.

Hermione was taking deep breaths, trying not to panic. She could make it on her own. Really, she could. She had her wand. She was highly intelligent. Surely she could find a way out of this mess. She didn't need Draco Malfoy to save her. She…she…

HOW COULD HE JUST LEAVE HER LIKE THIS?

What kind of a man would just leave a woman, a woman with a head injury at that, to fend for herself in a forest full of Death Eaters? Had she really hurt his pride that much? How could she have felt safe with him? He was horrible! How could she have kissed him? He was like a small, spoiled child who threw tantrums when he didn't get his way. Did he really think she would have just let him kiss her like that? She had enough self-respect, for goodness sake, to behave like a civilized woman instead of some hormone-crazed teenager.

Beneath her anger she was scared. Terrified, in fact. She didn't want to be left alone. She knew she couldn't Apparate to safety, though she wasn't entirely sure how the Death Eaters would be able to follow her. Malfoy would know, though she couldn't ask him now. So she was stuck here in this forest.

In this cave. This strange, glowing cave that seemed to be closing in on her. She was breathing heavily, her heart beating rapidly. Her head pounding. She was sitting against the wall, cradling her aching head in her hands. She didn't know what to do. She hated the tears that began to run from her eyes, leaving burning trails down her cheeks. She hated Malfoy for leaving her. She hated herself for not knowing what to do.

Then there were footsteps.

Her head shot up and she stood quickly, preparing herself for the worst. She held her wand at the ready, intently watching the shadow that grew larger as its owner approached the curve of the tunnel.

And then Malfoy appeared, turning the corner and halting at the sight of her wand. Relief flowed swiftly through every cell in Hermione's body. She dropped her arm and stood staring at him.

There was a moment of silence in which their eyes locked onto each other and the full weight of their situation crashed down on both of them. They had kissed each other. All those years of hatred—and they had kissed each other. The space between them seemed to crackle with energy. Hermione felt an invisible pull and almost thought for a moment that she might somehow collide with Malfoy, though ten feet of space stood between them.

Then Malfoy shifted on his feet and hardened the look on his face. Hermione mentally shook herself and realized she still had tears running down her cheeks. She wiped them away quickly.

"Follow me," said Malfoy, walking past her without meeting her eyes and continuing down the tunnel.

She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling relief of the strongest kind. He had come back.

He could hear her footsteps falling lightly behind him as he pressed forward through the cave tunnel. It varied in width and height as they explored its new regions, and Draco at times had to crouch as he walked. He repeatedly felt the urge to turn around and look at Granger, though he didn't know why. He kept remembering the expression on her face when he had come upon her just moments before. It had seared him inwardly. Tears were running unchecked from her eyes, and her face was filled with a fear he had rarely (if ever) seen in her before. And then at the sight of him, relief had washed visibly over her features, her jaw unclenching, her eyebrows softening. He had caused that. The sight of him had caused that. And that knowledge caused another kind of searing inside.

His leaving had scared her, he realized. She obviously wanted him around. Needed him, even. But he tried to shake that off.

Not that I care, he added as a firm afterthought.

She had rejected his kiss, a fact that still caused a boiling feeling inside of him (his pride squirming, undoubtedly). He would not give her a chance to do the same thing twice. As much as he wanted her. As strong as the pull was. No matter the situation. He was not going to make another move on her. He was not going to give her the satisfaction of rejecting him again.

The sound of her voice almost made him jump.

"Where are we going?" she asked quietly.

He didn't stop walking, didn't turn to her. Didn't answer her. Didn't acknowledge her existence. He just continued on, and it was a few moments before—

"Malfoy," she said, louder than before.

He didn't answer her. The silent treatment really hadn't been the plan, but it seemed like the best option now.

"Are you ignoring me?" she asked, a hint of incredulity in her tone. "Malfoy. Would you answer me?" No answer. Kept walking.

Incredibly, she didn't press further. He had expected a reprimand, some sort of long, unhindered sermon pointing out his childishness and irrationality. But no. Just her quiet footsteps.

They walked a long time in silence. It was a very long tunnel, and Draco wondered on more than one occasion if this was some sort of trick by the man named Maven who was supposedly trying to help them. Maybe this was a never-ending tunnel and they would end up walking through it until the end of time.

Draco was entertaining this thought when he began to notice that there was light shining around them not coming from the glowing walls. There was a curve up ahead, lit brightly by this new light. Sunlight, as it turned out. When they turned the corner, they found that the mouth of the cave opened widely to an expanse of trees very much like the ones they had left behind.

He saw the cabin immediately. It was a tiny, weather-beaten sort of thing, covered almost completely in climbing vines and mosses. It sat in the middle of a clearing just outside the cave mouth (which, as Draco saw when he turned around and looked, was set into the side of a very tall, rocky hill).

"Why did you lead me here?" asked Granger behind him.

He fought the urge to turn and look at her. She could suffer his silence longer. Ignoring her question, he began walking towards the little cabin.

"Malfoy," said Granger, and he heard her footsteps following. "How did you know to come here?" Silence. "Do you even know where we are?"

He had reached the front door. Without hesitation, he grabbed the worn brass handle and twisted it. It was unlocked. He pressed the door open and stepped inside. It was very dark. The windows were grown over with vines, so only the open door and a few haphazard cracks in the roof offered light.

"What is this?" asked Granger from outside the door. "Did you know this was here?"

"Shut up and get in here," he replied without turning to look at her. He began moving forward into the gloomy space. He heard her hesitant footsteps on the wooden floor. "Shut the door behind you."

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

He turned around and looked at her. She was silhouetted against the light from the open doorway. He could see that her face was very pale; her whole form seemed to droop with fatigue. He felt that tug again, the one that seemed to pull him towards her even when he didn't want to go near her.

"Closing a door is a relatively simple task," he said humorlessly.

"I want to know why you've taken me here," she said.

He stared at her and she stared back. He began to walk towards her slowly, knowing full well that it was a bad idea. She did not retreat, but drew up her height and raised her chin. She looked so tired. When there was only a foot of space left between them, he stopped. He saw the alarms going off in her eyes, though she tried to appear calm. He thought he could hear her heart beating. Or maybe it was his own?

He reached his arm up past her to the door behind her and swung it shut. This movement brought him into even closer proximity with her. He stared down at her eyes. He began to feel a drowsiness caused by the closeness of her, like he just wanted to grab her, pull her into bed, and go to sleep (or perform a whole host of other activities).

"Why are we here?" she asked lowly, her lips barely moving.

"So you can get your head bandaged and sleep," he said. "I'm sure there's a bed."

The word "bed" fell heavily on both of them and Draco saw her blink. He felt great satisfaction at that.

"How did you know this was here?" she asked.

"That man told me," he said. Her eyes widened. "His name is Maven."

"The one who…?" she trailed off as he nodded. "When?"

"When I walked out of the cave this morning," he replied.

This too seemed to echo off the walls. Draco momentarily flashed back to the kiss and he was fairly sure Granger did too.

"Did he say anything about Harry?"

"Yes," said Draco. He watched as her eyes filled with something along the lines of hope. "He said that Potter is a stupid git. And he's dead."

Her eyes popped open wide and she gasped.

"How dare you!" she screeched, lunging forward to slap him.

He hopped backwards, a smirk painting itself on his face. Oh, how good it felt to torment her. He grabbed her by both flailing wrists and pulled her in close to him. It was meant as self-defense; he realized immediately that it was the most dangerous move he could have made. Because he was touching her. And she was right there in front of him. And she had that gleam of hatred in her eye that suddenly seemed so attractive. His smirk died when he recognized the trap he had fallen into. He felt the blood rise to his face like flames. A hundred thoughts suddenly raced through his mind, but the one on top read, She must know. She must know exactly what I'm thinking. I'm fucking transparent. I can see it in her eyes. She knows I'm about two seconds away from kissing her. He felt like the wind was knocked out of him.

And then he felt two small hands pushing against his chest. Pushing him away. He shook his head and refocused his eyes on her. He had to clear this throat before he spoke again.

"He only said that Potter wanted me to get you back to the Order," he said in a strange voice.

This was ridiculous. Just touching her had knocked all the sense out of him. A string of expletives sounded off inside his head.

He found that she was staring at him heavily and it was almost more than he could take. He was NOT going to kiss her again. If it took every ounce of his self-control and killed him, he would resist her.

"What?" he challenged.

She was silent. Staring.

He turned away from her and began moving forward into the cabin. The room they were currently in seemed to be the main room of the building. It had a sturdy looking wooden counter stretching along the far wall with a row of cabinets (most missing their handles) underneath. Next to this was a door, and next to the door was a small fireplace, a stack of logs beside it. A worn brown couch sat facing the fireplace. (Draco hoped it was supposed to be brown). A wobbly round table sat in the center of the room with three mismatched chairs pushed in underneath it.

Draco walked over and opened the door. He stepped into the next room, which was very small. There was a bed in the corner, made up with white sheets and a plain-looking blue and white quilt. There was a wooden dresser with three drawers against the wall beside the bed. Another door led to a tiny bathroom.

Though the overall feel of the cabin was old and shabby, it was not dirty. It was a strange place. Draco found sets of clothing and extra sheets within the drawers of the dresser and realized that the bathroom was stocked with toiletries. It was as if this cabin just sat here empty all the time, waiting patiently to be inhabited.

When Draco went back into the main room, he saw that Granger had been searching through the cabinets. There was a stack of items on the table, apparently things she thought would be of use. She looked up from her crouched position in front of the cabinets when he came in.

"This is an old muggle house, but it's filled with brand new stuff," she said. She held up a strange little device. It was green, made of some sort of hard material. It was a kind of little vial, he thought. But there was a notched metal wheel inlaid at the top. "Would you start a fire?"

She handed him the little green vial and went back to the cabinets. It was lighter than he thought it would be. He stared at it hard, not knowing what the hell to do with it. He shook it and realized it had liquid inside.

"What is this?" he asked, his forehead knit.

She looked up at him, surprised. And then the corners of her mouth tilted up in a smile.

"You've never seen a lighter before?" she asked.

"Does it appear that I've seen one before?" he asked.

She stood up and walked over to him. He held out the "lighter" and she took it from his hand. He watched as she placed her thumb on the notched wheel and made a quick motion. There was a sort of clicking, grinding sound—and then a small flame danced at the end of the vial.

Hermione watched in amusement as Malfoy stared at the flame skeptically, one eyebrow raised. He had never seen a lighter before! And he probably didn't know how to make a fire either.

She walked past him to the fireplace, which already had two medium-sized logs sitting inside, and placed a handful of kindling (sitting in a basket beside the stack of logs) on top. She re-lit the lighter and held the flame onto the dried twigs and leaves. Soon a small fire was crackling.

Malfoy looked unimpressed. "Is there any food here?" he asked.

Hermione was hungry too. There was actually a good supply of food in those cabinets, mostly canned items. There were packets of dried beef and bottles of water also. The arrangement was so odd, but she tried not to dwell on the strangeness of the place too much. There was food and a place to sleep not made of rock, so she could be content for the moment.

She was tired, though, more tired than she could ever remember being. Her head hurt less frequently, but it hurt nonetheless and she could feel a large bump where she had been struck. There was also a lot of dried blood in her hair, so she couldn't wait to shower. She felt filthy after the day's events.

Hermione heated a beef stew over the fire and the two of them ate together at the wobbly table.

After a few minutes of silence (one of those thick, awkward silences that comes from uncomfortable sexual tension) Hermione said, "I have a question."

"I'm sure you do," said Malfoy.

"Why can't we Apparate?" she asked.

"Because we'll be followed and most likely tortured to death," he replied.

"How will they follow us?" she asked. "And how do you know?"

"The Dark Lord has ways of detecting magic," he said. "There are certain areas that are…I guess you could say 'under the net'."

He went back to his stew. She stared at him.
"What?"

"It's not a difficult concept. He throws down an enchantment and then he can send Death Eaters wherever he detects magic. It's patchy and it doesn't always work right…and it's pretty much pointless unless you're using it in an area where no other magic is being used. Like…here, I guess. But it's not worth us taking the chance of thinking we're in a safe area."

"Wait. How would that let them follow us if we Apparate?"

"Same concept. Apparating leaves a trail of magic. If we're under one of his areas, he just sends the Death Eaters along the trail."

"…How did you know this was one of the places?"

"How many damn questions are you going to ask me?"

"How did you know?"

"Maven said. When you went insane, remember? He said not to Apparate or they would follow us. He knew I would know what he meant."

"How would he know you would know?"

"Because he's a bigger know-it-all than even you."

Hermione scowled. She remembered hearing something about this net thing before, a long time ago. She hadn't known Voldemort used it. She had a sudden thought.

"Do you think that's how they followed Harry to his parents house?" she asked.

"Most likely," he said.

"So…what, that would mean Voldemort had the enchantment over Grimmauld Place? How would he know to put it there?"

Malfoy thought for a moment. "He probably put it in that general area after I disappeared. Maybe trying to find me."

"Well how would it not have detected all the magic we did inside the house?"

"I don't know. You probably know more about the enchantments on the house than I do."

"Oh," she said. It would make sense that Dumbledore would protect against that kind of enchantment.

"How are we going to get back?" she asked more quietly.

He stared at her for a moment. "I don't know."

A/N: So there we are! Chapter 15. What did you think? Still good? Everyone staying onboard? Suggestions? I know my updates have been really slow, but it's already April and summer is fast approaching. And you know what that means! Lots of free time for me to be writing. (Well…some free time. I'll probably have to get one those silly "job" things.) So just hang in there, guys. REVIEW, Loyal Band! I know you all want to know what Harry is up to and more about Maven, but you must be patient about that. I threw in a little section about Ron just to reassure you all that he was still alive, if depressed. But don't worry, his situation will improve.