She waited for him to mutely become blind with rage and lash out.
He didn't. He adorned a continuous zoned out expression, cloudy eyes staring off into the distance. No change in demeanor at all.
"Malfoy?" She tried. His eyes flickered.
Without moving his head, he slowly looked around, as if he couldn't remember where he was.
"Malfoy?" She tried again a little softer. He didn't seem to notice her presence. His brows creased and he frowned, bringing his arms behind him and slowly sinking to the ground, crossed legged.
Unsure of how to proceed, Hermione sat in front of him.
"Can you hear me?"
He didn't respond. She lifted her hand to his eyes and waved.
Fear crept into her chest when he didn't blink.
So she slapped him.
It wasn't particularly hard, but his head turned to the side with the impact. She frowned.
Didn't defend, didn't react.
"Oh no…" she whispered to herself.
She rubbed her hands on her thighs, wiping the sweat from her palms and brought her hands up to his face, manually turning his head forward again.
He still hadn't acknowledged her.
At a loss of what to do, she just sat there, watching him for a while.
It wasn't a particularly warm day and the cold seeped into her from the ground.
She remembered she no longer had a tent for shelter or warmth. The early fall season was unpredictable and freezing overnight was not on her to do list.
She got up from her spot on the ground and left to find shelter.
She searched the surrounding perimeter with her wand at the ready. There were no lakes, no caves, no open areas. Just the forest that seemed to mock her as the sun began it's descent from its peak. Dusk was approaching and hunger from the day's events made itself known.
The trickling of water from a nearby rivulet caught her attention and she followed the sound until she found the running stream. It was no larger than the width of her arm.
She crouched down to put both of her hands in the cold water and brought them back up to her mouth repeatedly, relishing the cold drink as it invaded her parched throat.
She dropped her hands back into the water as her thoughts drifted to Malfoy. If he had regained his sense, he might have tried to return to the camp. If not, she imagined him still sitting there, staring out into the emptiness of the woods. What if he had woken up and was waiting for her return - only to catch her off guard and overpower her?
She rolled her eyes at herself. She regretted not tying him back up.
But what if he never woke up at all?
Urrgh…
Her numbing hands brought her back to the present and she pulled them out of the water.
It would be entirely her fault.
Her shoulders sank a little as the weight added itself to her already heavy conscious. She was a good person. She didn't enjoy what she did and was overwhelmingly ashamed.
It wasn't her fault. She needed an escape. It was the only plan she could come up with.
She rubbed her moist eyes and wiped at her runny nose.
It was both, she concluded. As such, she gave herself a partial responsibility towards him.
She reached into her beaded bag and pulled out a large mug then filled it up from the stream. With her other hand, she reached into her back pocket and she pulled out her wand, just to be safe.
She had already messed up his mind. She didn't have the heart to break his body too.
Full cup in hand, she got up and slowly started walking in the general direction from which she came, catching an old footprint of hers every now and again.
Recapping the day's events, she thought over how death eaters had found her… again. It didn't make any sense. All her wards were up. Even if they traced back to her apparition site, they shouldn't have been able to see her or the entire campsite for that matter. Yet, they had known exactly where she was. It bothered her.
Darkness had almost completely engulfed the area by the time she reached her destination.
On the root of one of the trees, she saw him, his platinum blond hair a stark contrast to his environment. She sighed. He was still there, on the ground.
When she approached, she noticed he had picked up a handful of dirt and was gently letting the soil fall out of his hand before picking it back up and repeating the motion.
"Malfoy?"
He looked up at her with dead eyes. Completely void of recognition.
Well, she thought. It was a start.
She pocketed her wand and sat down in front of him.
"Here, I brought you some water." She said, lifting the cup.
He looked at it and then looked back at her.
"You drink from it" she stated, a little uncomfortable.
"See?" She pressed, taking a small sip. It felt very wrong talking to him like a child.
His hair was out of place, his clothes were filthy and his void expressions unsettled her. He was the shell of a man, with no fight and no thoughts.
Upon his vacant stare, she shifted closer to him and slowly lifted the cup once more. He slowly leaned away, suddenly radiating uncertainty.
The corners of her lips upturned. It was the first time she was this close to him without enduring his contempt and usual expressions of disgust.
She slowly stretched her arm until the cup touched his lips. To her relief, a lightbulb went on and he slowly started to drink, water escaping his mouth and running down his chin.
She brought her other hand up and quickly wiped it away before readjusting the cup for him.
As he greedily drank, her eyes began roaming his face.
If she was being honest with herself, he had always been quite attractive. With sharp features, distinguishable blond hair and striking grey eyes: more handsome than she cared to admit. Not to mention the symmetry in his features. Too bad he regularly tarnished it with scowling characteristics and a hateful personality.
She suddenly realized she was disappointed. What a waste.
At one time she thought if she proved to him and the rest of the Slytherin house how good she could be at magic, then maybe they would stop looking down on her and they could live as equals, free of bigotry.
Those days were long gone.
She pulled the cup back a little to give him some air.
She learned the hard way, no matter how much you try to prove yourself, it wouldn't make any difference. Pureblood supremacy was ingrained into their minds and it poisoned their hearts.
She brought the cup to his lips once more.
Ron would probably scold her for helping him. That this was a pointless attempt to compensate for her earlier sins. Well probably not in those words, his vocabulary was notably limited. She winced at herself. Malfoy was rubbing off on her. Ron would've without a doubt told her "he got what he deserved."
"Mum…" He murmured against the ceramic.
She brought the cup back down, now empty, and put it on the ground beside her.
His expression softened into sadness as he brought his knees up and leaned on them.
She stayed silent.
"It's okay…" He soothed.
Hermione pulled her knees to her chest and held them, keeping her mouth shut.
This was…unexpected. She figured he was reminiscing or maybe hallucinating.
"..in our house.." He continued, letting random parts of his sentence go unsaid.
"Draco?" She tried.
He turned his head in her direction, eyes darting to the ground.
"They're terrorizing us," he whispered.
Her eyebrows raised, "who is terrorizing you?"
"No, we don't."
"Don't what?"
"We could run."
"Run where? What are you…oh never mind." She huffed and looked away. He was confused. This was going nowhere.
But he answered her.
"To the safe house."
Her head snapped back to him. This could be…good information.
"We could bring the house elves," he carried on.
She cleared her throat.
"Which one, Draco?" She responded, trying out a haughty tone, imagining the Malfoy's to own a number of estates throughout the country.
"France would be the safest bet," he said now deep in thought.
"With whom would you go?"
"With you, of course," he said with a remarkable amount of tenderness.
She was taken aback. Hearing compassion from Malfoy was like hearing a dog meow.
"To do what?" She urged.
"Hide. We can't stay here any longer. It's only a matter of time before they catch Potter. When the hunt is over and the Dark Lord becomes supreme, what do you think he'll do with us? He has our house, he controls the ministry; father just gave him access to our volts and assets." He said, voice rising in volume.
"Do you think he'll pardon us for our transgressions? What do you think is going to happen to us when he's done?" his emotions coming back to him as he reached hysteria.
His eyes, now wet with tears finally reached hers.
"To me?"
For a moment she was unsure what to say. It never crossed her mind that Malfoy could be in danger as well. After all, he was a pure-blood, from an elite family well known to be serving the dark lord. She supposed she'd always assumed his family had immunity.
Her sympathetic nature kicked in and the opportune moment of freelance interrogation was forgotten.
"You're safe right now," she tried a little awkwardly.
He snorted. "Only because they can still make use of me."
"Well," she started.
"You're not." He interrupted.
"Sorry?" She said confused.
"Won't be long. They'll find a creative way to torture us."
His voice softened as he looked away, "I can't lose you..."
She sharply inhaled.
She knew it wasn't true. He was speaking to his mother. But the look he gave her was so sincere…it was love.
She scolded herself for forgetting he was a human being with emotions. A human with family, whom he loved deeply. Watching him pour out in front of her, it was almost too surreal to take in. She'd never seen him so vulnerable before.
Her heart melted and she reached forward to touch his knee.
"We're going to be alright Malfoy." She said, giving it a little shake in an effort to convey her sincerity.
His brows creased.
"Malfoy?" He repeated as his eyes darted back to hers, alert and full of life.
She drew a sharp breath. Oops.
Authors note: Already started chapter 12, have a great week everyone!