Fear

Chapter 2

"Nooooo!" Hermione shrieked, trying to push off the man's hands. "Let me go!" But he did not do as she wished.

The room they had Apparated into was vast and almost completely dark except for some moonlight illuminating through a few windows.

"Impervius!" he said without releasing her.

He can do wandless magic, she thought, and worse: No one can hear me. Still, she fought him, managing to shove him with her weight into a nearby book shelf.

"Argh!" He let go of her, clutching his injured head. "God damn it, Gra-"

She stumbled through his room until she found his bed and climbed onto it. Above her head she saw something dangling down, from a fan, and saw a light switch. Wherever they were, there was electricity. She yanked the switch confirming that it had been the person all along that she'd thought it was.

Draco Malfoy. He hadn't even moved from the spot by the window and shelf, where a few books had fallen pell-mell to the floor. She still felt safest with her wand extended in his direction. Could she just disapparate? Would escaping only be that simple?

"Don't even think about doing what you're thinking about doing," he said in a surprisingly calm voice that almost disarmed her. He was tenderly touching the back of his head where she'd made forceful contact. He stepped away from the wall.

"Don't you move!" she yelled. "I'm fully capable of Disapparating on my own. I don't need permission, especially not yours!" She was still shaken from what had just happened. She wanted so badly to just break down and cry, but would not. Not in front of Malfoy.

He laughed, almost sadistically. "Where would you go? Back home?" She knew he was right. "And in the state you're in you'd splinch yourself, no doubt."

"That's where you're wrong," she whispered, raising her wand.

"Granger, don't be stupid!" he yelled. "I just saved your life. Are you really going to just risk killing yourself?"

"You wouldn't save a dirty Mudblood like me if you're life depended on it," she growled.

"Do you even have the faintest idea where you are, or what's happened? Wanna know why those Death Eaters are roaming Muggle London, torching everything and everyone?"

Hermione was at a loss of words. "Uh, erm, no," she croaked out.

He took a few more slow steps in her direction. "Well, I can assume you can put two and two together to know that the Death Eaters have escaped Azkaban prison."

Her eyes were now in slits. "You're father –"

"Yes, my father, Granger," he said coldly. "My father. They're avenging Voldemort's death and are planning to kill each and every last Muggle. That includes you, too, Granger."

"Then why'd you save me. You despise me. You loathe me with every inch of your pathetic being. Why would you go out of your way to be so heroic as to rescue me of all people?" she spat, never taking her eyes off him.

"I'd never gone out of my way," he said truthfully. "You were just standing there and it was a last second decision." He scoffed. "Usually people thank others when they save them. I guess that's beyond even you."

"Shut up!" she yelled. "I don't trust for one second that you intended to save me. You're holding me hostage, are you not?"

Draco smirked. "I am, but only until you understand," he said. He was maybe standing five feet away. Fear suddenly struck Hermione like never before and she leapt from the bed in hysterics.

He ran after her when she ran to the other side of his room, the only thing separating them being a table. "Ha! No where to run. You know, you really should be a bit brighter when it comes to getting away. You trap yourself." And with a crash, he jumped over the desk, grabbing her by the arms, and shoving her against the wall.

No! No, no, no, I'm a goner!

She was pushing, beating, and kicking him with what little strength she could muster, tears spilling from her eyes as she cried, "Don't kill me, let me go! I'll do anything, don't – don't hurt me, ple-ease!" The piercing of her high pitched cries was like that of nails on a chalkboard. "No! Get off me, don't hurt me!"

"Granger," he said in her ear, having no problem holding her down. His hands were holding her wrists by her head and his knee was wedged in between hers. When she didn't cease fighting him, he shouted, "GRANGER! I'm not going to hurt you!"

She stopped kicking, her chest rising and falling heavily near his. "You're one of them, aren't you? A Death Eater?"

He laughed cruelly in the back of his throat. "Look for yourself, love," he said in a low voice, stepping back and holding his wrist out to her. She didn't move "That's what I thought. Even if I was, who else have you got to trust?"

"What makes you think I should trust you to begin with?" she replied viciously.

"'Cause Granger, I've got an ace up my sleeve. I'm protecting you from my father who would surely kill you."

"Other people than you could protect me!"

"Who? Potter or Weasley? They don't stand a chance against all those Death Eaters and Dumbledore's dead in case you've forgotten, Granger." Then he said, "I'd be the last person my father would expect to protect a Mudblood and you have something I want."

"I'd never –"

"I don't want to fuck you, Granger, if that's what you were thinking. No, it's much deeper than that. I'll let you know in time. Now give me your wand."

She went to slap him but he caught her wrist in his own hand, squeezing so tight she was certain he'd broken something. His demeanor had changed greatly. She'd never seen him look so angry. "Don't you ever hit me. I had every right to leave you in front of that burning house to die like your parents."

"What do you expect of me?" she said in a weak voice, breathless. Her face was wet. "I have nothing anymore. I-" She choked back the bile in her throat as he locked the door and went to sit on his bed.

"They'll find me," she said quietly.

"They won't," he said reassuringly. "This house in Unplottable. No one can find it unless they're told where it is." This place was just like Sirius's old house. It disappeared so that no one could see it once you went inside. "If you ever leave, you won't be able to get back and I won't save you again."

"I don't care what's out there, I won't help you!"

"Oh of course you do. You have no family, no belongings, and no clothes. How else do you expect to get along? Walk around in . . . that for the rest of your life?"

Hermione looked down at her filthy clothes that were wet and covered in dirt.

"I suppose you'll want a shower," he said lazily, standing from the bed.

She nodded, not looking at him. It looked like she had no choice in this matter. She'd have to help him.

"Come then and I'll get you something to wear," he said, leading her out of the room and down the hall.