Draco sighed as he laid in the bath, his head draped over the back. It had taken him all but five minutes to get clean. It was almost immediately after he finished rinsing his hair under the water that Hermione had screamed his name. It had only been his aunt Andromeda, but he understood why she had been so frightened. The woman looked very much like his aunt Bellatrix. It was unsettling seeing her. He knew less about that woman than he did about the Weasleys or anyone else in the Order. His family often discussed their enemies, but only once had he been told of his aunt Andromeda. The day she'd been shunned from the family, it had been almost as if she never existed. And this was how it would be for Draco. The last heir of the Malfoy family had been stricken from the family records. To all pureblood families, it was as though he never existed.
Draco sighed in frustration. He had returned to the bath like Hermione had insisted, but he could no longer relax. Seeing Andromeda and hearing the fear in Hermione's voice had him on edge. From the moment he left her sight he'd been straining his ears for any sound in the house. But the silence was so complete that the only thing Draco could hear was the ticking of the clock on the wall. He continued to stare at it watching the second hand skip around it's face. The hand ticked up to the twelve and Draco pulled the drain plug. Seven minutes. That was enough. Surely Hermione would be satisfied with seven minutes. Draco grabbed the towel off the toilet lid and dried himself off. He stepped onto the soft plush rug in front of the sink and stared into the mirror. His cuts healed, he looked much the same as he always did. Rigid. Cold. Pale. His looks mirrored how he felt inside. He rubbed his hair dry and threw the towel into the hamper in the corner. He quickly slipped into the cotton boxers and pajama bottoms. He stopped for a moment and stared down at the faded blue plaid pajama shirt in his hands. Curiously, he smelled it. It smelled earthy but clean. He slipped it over his head and returned to the bedroom.
Hermione was once again sitting with her back against the headboard. She chuckled when she saw him and he was sure he knew why. Though Draco was not a short man, the pajamas laid out for him were too long, the sleeves extending past his wrists and his heels stepping on an inch or two of the pant legs that gathered on the floor. The Weasley twins were the shortest among the Weasley boys, but this just proved how tall all the Weasley men were. Draco smirked at her, sharing in her amusement. He looked over at the food that Andromeda had left on her bedside table then back at Hermione.
"You haven't eaten?" His question sounded more like an accusation.
"I was waiting for you," she answered as though wondering why he would expect anything else.
"You didn't have to," he insisted, but she only shrugged in response.
Hermione picked up one of the plates and a fork and handed it to Draco. Draco nodded in appreciation as he took it and sat down on the side of her bed next to her. Both of them looked up at each other and began to laugh. Of all the meals in the world, their plates were piled high with beef, potatoes, carrots, and yorkshire pudding. Two small dessert plates on the tray were almost completely hidden beneath enormous portions of ginger pudding.
"Looks like you got your wish," Hermione giggled, remembering that this was exactly the meal Draco had been dreaming of in captivity.
"It's actually kind of scary," Draco chuckled. "Like 'how did she know?' If they had given us bread and butter pudding like you wanted, I'd demand an explanation."
"Ginger pudding still sounds absolutely perfect though." Hermione forced herself to look away from the desserts and back the plate in her hands. She was just about to take a bite when Draco interrupted.
"I know you're really hungry, but don't eat too fast... or too much," he instructed.
"Otherwise I'll just throw it up. I know," assured Hermione. "I've learned more about starvation this year than I'd ever hoped to." She said a bit bitterly.
Draco looked at her suspiciously. He had a feeling that there was more to it than he knew. Hermione saw the look on his face and smiled sadly.
"Harry, Ron, and I have been on the run since August. We couldn't exactly walk into a cafe whenever we were hungry," Hermione explained.
"What were you doing? Everyone thought you were just hiding, but everyone here keeps talking about 'Dumbledore's Task'" Draco asked, taking a small bite of beef.
Hermione looked at him nervously. She wasn't meant to tell anyone, but she didn't have to tell him everything. "Dumbledore gave us instructions before he died. He knew he was dying... he wanted to make sure someone would finish what he started."
"He was dying?!" Draco demanded.
Hermione nodded. "Harry didn't understand it... but I did. He had even put us in his will, things to help us. It was all about steps to destroy You-know-who. It was harder than we thought though... we spent alot of time talking about things we couldn't begin to understand. We were traveling in a tent. Sometimes we managed to steal food, but there were alot of times we just went hungry. But they must have done it. They must have figured it out..."
"And whatever you were doing, you think it'll really help Potter finish him?" Draco asked.
Hermione looked down unsure how to answer that. "He's already been kind of destroying him... But this will be different..."
"He did have a horcux then..." Draco said quietly. It was almost a question except that he seemed so sure of the answer.
"What?" Hermione asked in shock.
"I heard Nott and Bellatrix discuss it. Well, it was hardly what you could call a discussion, it was just a question that was left hanging. They had a suspicion that he might, but they were frightened to even talk about it between themselves. I knew that whatever it was, it was too frightening for the death eaters to even think of, so I looked it up. It would explain how the dark lord survived the backfired killing curse on Potter," Draco explained.
"He didn't just make one..." She felt that since he already knew, it couldn't hurt to disclose more to him. Draco looked at her with concern. "He made seven."
"What?!" Draco demanded, almost choking on his dinner. "Is that even possible?"
Hermione nodded. "That diary that your father gave Ginny... It had possessed her because there was a piece of you-know-who's soul in it. Harry destroyed it. Dumbledore found one the summer before this last and destroyed it. We collected another this summer and had suspicions of two more."
Draco was finding it extremely hard to breathe. "And you think Potter destroyed the rest?"
"It would be stupid to fight him before then," Hermione said.
"It would be stupid to fight him at all," Draco added. "Even if he destroyed the horcruxes, what makes him think he can defeat him in person? Dozens of people have died at his wand. No one stands a chance against him if he has it in his mind to kill them."
"Harry's survived him five times already. At his height as a baby, as a spirit in first year, a half being in second, and his full power again in fourth year, and at the ministry of magic our fifth year. Each time it was just chance. I think the prophecy is true. Harry has to be the one who finishes him. I can't believe that it will end any other way. Not after all that's happened," Hermione explained.
"So he is the chosen one..." Draco admitted to himself with a grumble. Silence filled the room as they ate their dinner, their minds on the battle that was taking place at that very moment. Draco set his dessert plate on the tray, all four of their plates looking practically untouched even though their hunger had been satiated. Draco stared at the polished wood floor at his feet, miserably lost in his thoughts. Hermione watched him sadly.
"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly.
"I'm just wondering what happens next," he admitted, looking up at Hermione. "Say Potter does win. What then? ...I don't know who I am anymore," Draco said bitterly, looking back to the floor. "I never have."
"Most people in the world struggle with that, Draco," Hermione assured softly. "I do."
Draco looked at her out of the corner of his eye, sighed and looked back at the wall across the room.
"I, like you, have always been very proud of the person I wanted people to see me as... but that didn't mean it was really me. It may have seemed like I knew what I wanted, but I've never really known who I am... I'm lost now more than I've ever been. I don't have the will or energy to go back to being who or-or whatever I was," Hermione explained weakly, her voice and eyes distant.
Draco gave the tiniest nod of agreement, as far off in thoughts as she was. "But at least you have people here to help you find yourself again. I can't go back to what I thought I was," Draco finally spoke, his voice as quiet as Hermione's as he stared off despondently. "I don't belong anywhere..."
"You're wrong," Hermione said, finally pulling back into herself and looking over at Draco with concern. "You belong with me," she said as if it were the most natural and obvious answer, placing her hand on his and gripping it compassionately in hers.
Draco looked down at their hands, his brows furrowed in an unreadable expression and he looked up at her. He looked somewhat irritated... but not with her. "Hermione..."
"The war's changed everything. We're both lost. But I don't feel as lost when I'm with you," Hermione replied. Draco's expression softened and he gave Hermione's hand a light squeeze. "And I know you feel the same," she pressed.
Draco looked at her with a pensive sad smile. "I think we should probably get some sleep. Spells and potions can fix most anything, but we still need sleep." Draco gave her hand one more squeeze before he let go and stood up.
Hermione nodded slid underneath the blankets. Draco looked up at the candle bracket on the wall next to Hermione's bed, licked his thumb and forefinger and reached up to put it out. "Wait!" Hermione cried. Draco stopped and looked down at her in surprise. She began to blush deeply, embarrassed by her outburst. "I'm sorry... I just..." Hermione bit her lip. She felt like a silly little child explaining that she'd prefer he keep the light on.
"It's okay," Draco said, not needing her to explain. "Honestly, I didn't really want to be in the dark either. We'll leave this one burning and I'll put out the others." Hermione nodded, still feeling mortified by her childish fears and need of a nightlight, but after weeks of darkness she just couldn't let the light disappear again. "Really. It's okay. I prefer it this way," Draco assured, reaching down and twisting a lock of her hair in his fingers. "So, uh... goodnight."
Draco put out all the other candles in the room, leaving the one near the head of Hermione's bed and slipped under the blankets of his own bed.
"'Night, Draco."