No amount of pictures or stories could ever hope to accurately portray the sheer amount of gloom and misery that was Azkaban prison.
Though she'd only just stepped off the boat, Hermione immediately wanted to jump back aboard and sail far, far away from the dark, imposing structure that loomed before her.
It was bitterly cold, though the wind hissing through her ears made her shudder far more. The murky waters crashed angrily against the fortress and each other, and the thick grey clouds overhead swallowed any hint of sunlight.
"This way, Miss Granger."
Hermione nearly flinched when one of the guards addressed her. Her hand unconsciously jerked toward her wand, but she clenched the fabric of her jeans instead. Newly proclaimed war heroine or not, Hermione doubted the guards would respond well if she were to whip out her wand and point it at them for no reason; Godric knows she'd had a hard enough time getting permission to come here, and she wasn't about to push her luck.
Hermione followed without a word, trying not to visibly shiver in her jumper. The guard paid her no mind as he lead her across the docks and through the towering door.
The temperature inside wasn't much better, but it at least provided sanctuary from the wind. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself ever tighter, barely able to hear anything over the sound of her thumping heart and racing breaths.
The prison was borderline medieval, with sconces lining the dark, filth-encrusted walls. The floor was slippery beneath her feet, making her wonder if any part of this place had ever been cleaned. The stoic guards were each dressed in all-black robes with hoods that covered the upper half of their faces, making them completely indistinguishable.
Hermione bit back a choke.
People dressed in all-black – faces hidden – darkness – surrounded by identical forms – alone – surrounded-
Shoes squeaking as she halted, Hermione desperately reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial. It took a harrowing moment to unstop the little bottle with her shaking hands, and then she was pouring the Calming Draught down her throat. Almost immediately, her tremors stilled and her racing heart slowed. Thank goodness Molly had convinced her to bring it.
Sighing, she stowed the now empty vial away and hurried to catch up to the guard, who hadn't paused for her nor even seemed to notice that she'd stopped in the first place. Either that, or he simply didn't care.
The guard led Hermione to a black iron door decorated with an emblem she did not recognize and opened it with a flick of his wand. Inside laid some sort of rudimentary office with rickety, uncomfortable looking furniture and was barely lit by weak candlelight and a small window.
Hermione swallowed. If this was what the spaces meant for employees looked like, what on earth were the prison cells like?
The man seated behind the desk, who Hermione assumed was the warden by the badge pinned to his robe, held out his hand as she approached.
"Wand," he demanded shortly.
She bristled, every instinct she'd acquired in the past two years shrieking at the thought of not having her wand. Even though Kingsley had briefed her on the procedures she'd have to endure beforehand, Hermione visibly hesitated before handing over her wand, then fidgeted anxiously as she watched the warden run a few diagnostics on it.
When he offered it back to her, she had to actively stop herself from ripping it out of his hand.
The warden then scanned her and asked several basic prefacing questions, all of which she answered negatively.
To your knowledge, have you been exposed to any dark artifacts in the past two months?
Have you encountered any Death Eaters since the battle at Hogwarts?
Have you been contacted by any Death Eaters or Death Eater sympathizers in the past thirty days?
"What is your relation to the prisoner you're seeing today?"
The warden's final question gave her pause.
Enemies?
Rivals?
Debtor and the indebted?
Something potentially life-altering that she was trying very hard not to think about?
"We're old classmates," she finally settled on. Nodding, the warden scribbled something down in the guestbook before slamming it shut, making Hermione flinch.
"Direct her to prisoner no. 1503's cell."
With no further parting words, the guard led her out.
As they journeyed deeper into the prison, Hermione slowly realized with growing discomfort how oddly quiet it was. She could hear the bricks groaning against the strong winds outside, as well as a distant drip-drop of freezing water that seeped through. However, other than the footsteps of herself and the guard, Hermione could not hear nor see any signs of human inhabitance. Did they silence the cells so the prisoners could not hear anything, nor be heard?
Hermione's jaw clenched. She'd heard many a tale of the horrors of Azkaban, even seen them firsthand through Sirius…but somehow, she hadn't been fully prepared for just how inhumane the facility was, even without the presence of the Dementors.
Desperately, Hermione found herself wishing she'd asked Harry or Ron to come with her-
Then the reason for her visit appeared in her mind in a flash of platinum blond, reminding her of why she'd resolved to do this alone in the first place.
As deep as her love was for Harry and Ron, neither of them understood; even when she sat them down and attempted to carefully explain the situation, leaving out a few key theories that still remained up in the air despite all the research she'd done in the past several weeks.
It figured that the moment the war ended, something else would immediately pop up. It seemed peace was destined to forever allude her.
Sadly, determination and resolve did nothing to alleviate Hermione's guilt when she remembered the argument between herself and her oldest friends just two days prior.
" You cannot be serious, Hermione!" shouted an irate Ron, who's face was growing as red as his hair.
"I am serious, Ron," she replied calmly.
" This is bloody Malfoy we're talking about! Remember, Malfoy? The git who used to bully us and call you a slur in school? The fucking bastard who almost killed Dumbledore, Katie Bell, and ME!? The Death Eater who let all his other little Death Eater friends into Hogwarts!?"
"Enough, Ronald!" Hermione barked. "I'm not some fool, of course I haven't forgotten! Just like I also haven't forgotten that he saved my life! I…I have to repay him."
Ron groaned angrily, rubbing a hand down his face. "You don't owe that son of a bitch anything! He saved you once, so what!? That doesn't make up for all the other shite he did! He's in prison, right where he should be! Let him fucking rot there! It's a kinder fate than he, or any Malfoy deserves!"
Hermione's nostrils flared, rage boiling in her very blood. "Do you even hear yourself right now? You sound just like the people we just gave years of our lives to defeat! This is bigger than your family's stupid grudge with the Malfoys! This is MY choice, Ronald, and you have no say!"
Ron's expression went dark. "YOUR choice? So you're choosing HIM over us? Over ME!? After everything!?"
Hermione's mouth hung open, eyes starting to sting. "N-No, I – that's not what this is about! Dammit Ron, why must you always twist my words!? I'm not doing this to spite you!"
"Ha!" Ron laughed somewhat hysterically, blue eyes growing glossy. "Of course it's not...it's NEVER about us. There's always something more important, isn't there? Or should I say someONE? Face it Hermione, you're clearly so desperate to get away from me that you'd lower yourself to helping a stinking Death Eater like some kind of-"
"That's enough, Ron." Harry, who'd been silently listening to their back and forth with a pensive expression, decided to cut in. Hermione was fighting back tears, unable to process that one of her oldest friends would so easily accuse her of such a thing.
Ron looked a bit unhinged as he turned to Harry and gestured wildly at Hermione. "Tell her, Harry! Talk some sense into her! She wants to help one of the bastards that killed Fred!" the redhead spat, face contorting painfully.
Harry looked at his friend sadly, placing a careful hand on his shoulder. "I think you need to go cool off before you say something you regret."
Ron's lip wobbled, then he tore away and stomped furiously from the room.
Hermione sniffed, wiping away a stray tear. She'd been crying so much lately. She wished it would stop.
Harry put a gentle arm around her shoulder. "Give him some time, 'Mione. He's struggling."
" We're ALL struggling, Harry," Hermione said weakly, jerking out of his hold. "We've just won a war, and now we don't know what to do with ourselves. We've all lost people we loved. That doesn't give him the right to speak to me that way."
"You're right, it doesn't," Harry replied placatingly. "But you know Ron's never been good at handling his emotions. He'll lash out at anyone that even slightly upsets him."
Harry sighed, taking his glasses off to rub his eyes. "I think you really caught him off guard with this. You know how he feels about Malfoy. And right now, I'm pretty sure he's blaming everyone on that side for…what happened to Fred. He probably can't fathom why you would want to help someone he perceives as responsible for Fred's death."
Hermione bit her lip, eyes dropping to the floor. "I didn't even think of that," she admitted quietly. "Maybe I shouldn't have told him."
Harry pulled her in for a hug. "No, you did the right thing. He would have found out eventually, and then he'd have been even angrier. Besides, that still doesn't excuse him dragging your relationship into it like he did. I know you suddenly wanting to help Malfoy has nothing to do with that."
Hermione nodded against Harry's chest. A couple moments of solemn silence passed between them.
"Do you not want me to go too?" she asked quietly.
Harry answered after a beat. "Malfoy lied for us at the Manor. Ron doesn't want to admit it, but he saved all our lives that day. And it was pretty obvious he wasn't involved with them because he wanted to be. I don't think Malfoy deserves to be in prison."
Hermione looked up at her friend hopefully.
"But," Harry continued, "I also don't fully understand why you're suddenly so determined to help him. You've never been fond of Malfoy, and he arguably treated you the worst out of the three of us. Hermione…"
He paused, gazing at her seriously. "…is Malfoy saving you REALLY the only reason you want to help him so much?"
Hermione froze. She felt as though Harry was looking right through her, spotting all the holes in her story and glaring at the parts she'd blatantly skipped over. Ron, she'd never had much of an issue tricking or misleading when she felt a need to, but Harry had always been more perceptive.
" No," she conceded with a sigh, "but I really can't tell you the whole story yet, Harry. Even…even I'm not totally sure what all is going on. But I just know that I have to get him out of there. I have to talk to him. Please understand, Harry."
The Boy Who Lived studied her with a furrowed brow. Then, he heaved a sigh of resignation. "You know I trust you, 'Mione. It's Malfoy that I'm not sure about. But Merlin knows that when you've got your heart set on something, you're going to do it no matter what anyone else says." His comment drew a small smile from each of them. Harry squeezed her shoulder supportively. "Do what you feel like you need to, but please promise me you'll be careful. I don't want you getting wrapped up in something you can't get out of so soon after the war."
Hermione nodded. "I promise, Harry."
"Good. Do you want me to go with you to Azkaban?"
"No…I think I need to see Malfoy alone. Thank you though, Harry."
Hermione couldn't bring herself to tell him that she might already be in too deep, if the irrational anger still sizzling in her core at Ron's words towards Malfoy was anything to go by.
A jarring CRASH jolted the Golden Girl from her thoughts. The sound seemed to echo all throughout the prison and down to her very bones.
"W-What was that!?" she exclaimed, drawing her wand.
The guard froze in front of her, but did not answer as he slowly copied her actions. His response did nothing to assure Hermione, who swallowed dryly at the sight of the guard's black wand.
Nearly an entire minute passed. When they heard nothing else, she wondered if perhaps the noise had been a fluke, when-
BANG BOOM
There was an explosive force so intense it shook the walls, followed by an ear-shattering roar. Hermione blanched as the guard started throwing up wards.
Then, a terrified shout rent the air.
"WEREWOLF!"
Then came the trembles, the panicked yells, and the long, low howl of an emergency siren. Hermione was vaguely aware of the guard shouting at her to get back to the warden's office, but she physically could not move. From a nearby hand-sized window high on the wall, the full moon shined down cruelly upon the fortress.
A bizarre sense of panicked calm fell over Hermione as her brain was overloaded with questions. How had she made such a grievous oversight? She'd known…she'd known what he was, and yet she hadn't thought to check which cycle the moon would be on during her visit. She'd been so preoccupied with trying to convince Kingsley to let her come at all, that she'd stupidly accepted the first available date he'd offered.
Then again, if tonight was the full moon, why did Kingsley and the warden allow her to come on this day in the first place?
As Hermione silently observed the growing chaos around her, hardly even noticing when someone grabbed her by the arm and started hurriedly leading her to safety, she came to the baffling conclusion that no one else had known about Malfoy's lycanthropy. If they had, surely he wouldn't be escaping and going on a rampage now. They would have taken far more precautions than with a normal prisoner. How had they not known? How, how-
A distant scream reached Hermione's ears, the sound piercing her to the core. It was enough to finally jolt her to attention, her instincts taking complete control as she yanked her arm out of the guard's grasp. Quicker than the eye could blink, Hermione whipped out her wand and started running back towards the sounds of turmoil.
The guards of Azkaban were undoubtedly trained fighters, but this prison was equipped to handle humans, not creatures. Certainly not werewolves on the full moon. She had experience with werewolves, had faced quite a few of them while on the run. Plus, this wasn't just any werewolf; and if her hypothesis was correct, she very well may be the only one who could do anything about him.
Hermione flew up a few flights of slippery steps, muttering a quick Lumos to aid her in navigating the dark fortress. The all too familiar sounds of curses and hexes flying about drew closer, as did the inhuman growls. She yelped when a body flew right in front of her and hit the wall with a harsh sounding smack. Stepping over it with a wince, Hermione spotted several guards at the end of the corridor, all backing up as they screamed out curse after curse, the brutal spells flying from their wands in ominous red and purple flashes.
The dark robed figures then gave a unified cry of alarm and barreled down the hallway, causing Hermione to flatten herself against the wall to avoid being knocked over as they disappeared around the corner shouting for backup. They probably hadn't even noticed her standing there.
Hermione's brown eyes darted to the end of the corridor when another menacing snarl rumbled through the air. She watched stricken as one giant paw emerged from around the corner. Then a long snout. Followed by a mouth lined with sharp, jagged teeth, dripping with drool.
The wolf's steps made the very floor tremble as it showed itself in all its beastly glory, its enormous form barely fitting in the tight corridor.
Hermione's heart stopped, her magic flooding her with warmth. Even if she'd had no idea about his lycanthropy before coming here, she would've known immediately that this was Draco Malfoy. The former Slytherin prince had been transformed into a great wolf, the light from her wand casting off his snowy fur almost too bright to look at.
A pure white coat for a pureblooded prick, Hermione thought sardonically.
However, it was the eyes that gave him away; they were still the same piercing silver, dark and intense as they landed on her. She wondered if they would glow in the darkness.
Hermione's wand hung uselessly by her side. For all her bravado, she knew that, realistically, she stood no chance against a werewolf on the full moon. Not to mention that, judging by his situation, she doubted he had taken the wolfsbane potion, making him even more dangerous.
And yet…Hermione wasn't scared. Not for her life, anyway. Because the incessant tug at her magical core the second Malfoy stepped into view confirmed her theory. And that scared her more than any death sentence could.
"Malfoy…" she said barely above a whisper.
The great wolf perked up at the sound of her voice. He cocked his head to the side like a curious pup, his large pupils dilating. Striding towards her with a bounce in his step, Malfoy promptly pressed his giant nose right into her neck.
Hermione squirmed as he sniffed at her, pressing her lips together so as not to giggle at the ticklish sensation.
Her squirming quickly morphed into a cringe when the wolf's large, wet tongue eagerly darted out to greet her.
"Ugh! Ew, ew, stop that! Sto – mph!" Hermione could only grunt in protest as she slammed her lips shut with the force of a vice to prevent Malfoy from shoving his tongue into her mouth. With a few decisive shoves, she managed to wrestle his insistent snout away from her. The Gryffindor shuddered in disgust as she hurriedly wiped her slobber-coated face and neck.
The wolf huffed excitedly, leaning down on his front legs with his rear in the air as his tail wagged back and forth.
Disarmed by the strangely adorable display, Hermione swallowed. She had to be careful; it would be far too easy to forget exactly who was behind that puppy dog face.
Roving her wand over Malfoy's body, Hermione's eyes narrowed as they took in the damage that had been done to him. The white fur was singed and stained red with dried blood in several places. An irrational stab of anger overtook her, though she quickly reminded herself that it was only the circumstances making her feel that way. The guards were only doing their job, she would have done the same in their situation. Besides, werewolves healed quickly, so he was most certainly fine.
It doesn't matter what our magic says we are, Hermione thought desperately even as she subconsciously raised her hand towards him.
This is still Draco Malfoy.
The wolf happily nudged his head into her touch.
He doesn't deserve my sympathy.
She absently sunk her fingers into his thick, soft fur, giving his large ears a little scratch. Merlin, if Remus could see her now…he'd scold her for hours for not being more cautious around a fully transformed werewolf.
Malfoy's ears suddenly flicked away from her touch, and he was then jerking up into a defensive position. A fierce growl rumbled forth as he angled his large body protectively in front of her. Hermione craned her neck to see around him, eyes tightening when she heard the pounding of footsteps rapidly approaching.
"There it is!" shouted an irate voice.
A swarm of guards came rushing around the corner, filling the cramped corridor. Malfoy growled long and low, the sound making Hermione's brain swim pleasantly.
She sucked in a sharp breath and shook her head rapidly. Now was not the time to go all dumb and moon-eyed, even as some traitorous part of her swayed closer to him.
One of the guards shot a stunner at Malfoy, and the wolf let out an enraged roar. He arched threateningly, preparing to pounce, but Hermione was quicker.
"Malfoy, no!" she exclaimed, darting out in front of him. She had no doubt that if she didn't try to stop him, he'd rip every person in the vicinity that wasn't her to shreds.
Malfoy gave a grunt of protest while a few of the guards shouted at her to get away. Hermione clung to the wolf's furry chest as he tried to push her back behind him, struggling to stand between him and the guards.
The beast gave a distressed whine, not understanding why she wouldn't stand down and let him protect her.
Hermione felt the guards' confusion as they muttered in alarm behind them, but she kept her focus wholly on Malfoy. She felt lightheaded from how fast her heart was racing, wondering how she was going to protect both Malfoy and everyone else in the prison. The guards technically weren't authorized to kill inmates, but Hermione was all too familiar with the lengths desperate, frightened people would go to in order to save their own skin.
Shakily, Hermione reached up and cradled the wolf's face in her small hands, trying to keep his attention on her. "It's okay, Malfoy. It's okay. You don't want to hurt them, I know you don't! They won't hurt us either, not if you stand down! Come on, Malfoy, please…just stand down…" she rattled softly.
The Gryffindor had no idea if her desperate words were affecting him at all, or if he could even understand her in the first place, but she so badly didn't want to watch anyone else die. Not now, not today, not ever again.
She watched Malfoy's eyes soften, his pupils growing large as he relaxed into her touch. "That's it," Hermione encouraged. "Just stay calm. Everything will be alright."
He hummed, large nose leaning in to brush against hers in an action which bizarrely reminded her of an eskimo kiss.
The distinct flash of another poorly-aimed stunner shattered the moment.
"Stop you fool, you'll hit Granger!" one of the guards shouted as Hermione braced herself against a snarling Malfoy.
Now more aggravated than scared, the Gryffindor turned to glare at the guards. "What are you all standing around for!? Run, go! You'll only make him angrier!" she yelled as she desperately tried to subdue to wolf.
Her shoes scraped against the stone as Malfoy started pushing her backwards. Hermione grunted as she stubbornly held on to his front despite his attempts to shake her off without hurting her. Malfoy's enraged, protective growls rumbled against her cheek as his silver eyes darted between her small form clinging to him and the robed idiots hovering indecisively at the end of the corridor. Then, his ears flicked backwards, tuned into a sound only he could hear, and Hermione watched with trepidation as a strange glint entered his eyes.
Without a moment more to prepare herself, she gave an unflattering yelp as Malfoy suddenly stood up on his hind legs, leaving her dangling awkwardly from his chest. Then a large paw was at her back, pushing her upwards. Hermione grasped at his neck for purchase, trying to keep from falling as the wolf manhandled her round his large form until she was hanging on his back.
Her heart jumped into her throat when he dropped back onto all fours, and for a terrifying moment, Hermione thought he was going to charge at the guards, who were apparently too astonished by what they were seeing to do anything. Thus, she gasped quite sharply when he instead turned and bolted in the opposite direction.
A stomach turning sense of déjà vu hit Hermione as Malfoy flew down the stairs at a pace only a fully transformed werewolf could achieve. It was just like when he'd carried her out of the Room of Requirement, except now she was on his back rather than in his arms; and just like then, Hermione was left with no choice but to hold on and trust that he knew what he was doing.
Shouts of alarm followed them, though thankfully no one else tried to attack them, apparently finally realizing they stood no chance against a werewolf on the full moon.
Hermione was yanking on Malfoy's fur so tightly in attempt to stay on that it had to be hurting him, but he gave no indication of it as he burst through the entrance, the formerly imposing wooden door collapsing with a great THUD. Then they were weaving their way around the docks, where a boat full of prisoners had just been unloaded.
At the sight of a werewolf running at them, both the prisoners and guards shrieked in panic, and the ferryman hurriedly cast the spell that would set the boat in motion to sail back to the apparition point.
Unfortunately, he misjudged the situation, and was left to watch in horror as the werewolf leapt off the docks and landed roughly in the middle of his boat, the vessel rocking dangerously from the impact. Screaming in terror, the ferryman launched himself over the edge and into the cold Atlantic waters.
Hermione cried out in alarm, sliding off Malfoy's back and rushing to the edge to ensure the man was alright. Thankfully, they weren't far from the bank, and he was able to swim over and use magic to get himself to safety.
Crumpling in relief, her limbs gave out beneath her as the adrenaline rush died down. Hermione took deep gulps of air in through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to stave off the panic attack she felt building deep in her chest.
Something soft and warm nudged at her back, then a soft rumbling cut through the fog of anxiety and fanned away the panic. Whimpering, Hermione slumped against Malfoy, allowing him to nuzzle her. A tired smile pulled at her lips as she sunk into him, the soothing sound washing away her worries. Her magic hummed in content, a sense of peace settling in her very soul. Finally, finally after everything, she could rest, she could stop, she was free-
A freezing gust slapped against Hermione's face, bring reality back along with it. She groaned in frustration, angry that she'd once again succumbed to Malfoy's odd werewolf wiles. She scooted away from him, ignoring his whines of protest.
That sound he made was the same one he'd used to calm her back in the Room of Requirement after he'd frightened her to tears. Hermione didn't understand these strange abilities he seemed to have or if they were connected to their…situation at all, but they definitely troubled her. If he continued to have such an affect on her in the future, he could manipulate her into all kinds of things.
Though the mysterious other part of her that had popped up since the final battle seethed and screamed at her that Malfoy would never do that and berated her for even thinking that of him, Hermione dutifully ignored it.
This…thing that had developed between them didn't guarantee anything, and it certainly didn't mean that she knew him or what he was capable of doing. Willing Death Eater or not, he'd still been a part of them, and there was no telling the kinds of horrid impacts his exposure to those monsters had had on him.
Hermione would not allow this thing to make her complacent. She refused.
Shaking her head, the Gryffindor turned her mind instead to her current situation, now that her mind was clear.
She couldn't believe that Malfoy had just inadvertently escaped from Azkaban, though in his current state, she doubted he even realized as such. How had he even known the boat was there? Perhaps he'd heard it and realized that was his best bet at getting them both to safety, though that theory only brought up a slew of more questions.
Remus and her own experience taught Hermione that werewolves on the full moon who hadn't taken wolfsbane were essentially no more than mindless killers that would attack anything in sight. Malfoy's actions however, suggested otherwise.
Perhaps because she was his…
His-
Hermione shuddered.
Perhaps because of the thing between them, her safety took precedence over his normal instincts.
She sighed wearily. All this conjecturing meant nothing when there was no way for her to get answers. The only person who could give her some was currently unable to speak.
Hermione glared at Malfoy from her peripherals. He visible perked up when their gazes met, tail wagging behind him. "Oh, don't look at me like that! It's your fault we're in this mess!" she snapped.
The wolf merely cocked his head curiously at her annoyed tone, eyes wide and innocent as could be.
Hermione groaned, rubbing a hand down her face. "A true snake even when he's in the form of a dog…" she muttered. It wasn't really him she was annoyed at, rather the fact that she wouldn't be getting a chance to talk to him like she'd originally hoped.
Doubtless come morning when he changed back, the Aurors would show up and haul him back to Azkaban. Almost subconsciously, Hermione found herself hoping that Malfoy wouldn't be punished too harshly for his escape, especially given that he wasn't in his right mind and he'd only been trying to protect her.
At that thought, Hermione froze. Would she be charged as an accessory to his escape? Or worse, would they think that she'd intended to help him escape in the first place!?
Malfoy whimpered in distress as he sensed her growing alarm, nuzzling against her neck as he emitted the strange rumble again. She braced herself against its effect, this time only allowing it to calm her enough to clear her mind.
Realistically, Hermione doubted she'd be in much trouble. With her status as a new war heroine and Harry Potter in her corner, she doubted anyone would want to ruffle any feathers at such a sensitive time. Besides, if they really needed to make some sort of fuss over it, she could just take some veritaserum and prove her innocence. As much as the thought of being put under the serum incensed her, it was preferable to facing charges for planning and aiding in an escape from Azkaban.
Another cold gust of wind battered against Hermione's poorly wrapped form, causing her to shiver. She really should have listened to Molly and brought an extra jumper.
Noticing her plight, Malfoy shuffled closer, encircling himself around her. Hermione tried half-heartedly to scoot away, but the wolf merely grunted in protest and nudged her back until she was pressed firmly against him. Sighing heavily, she gave up. His body was incredibly warm, the soft fur creating the perfect barrier against the icy winds.
As she rested her head against him and gazed up at the black sky, Hermione wondered how long they'd be sailing for. The Azkaban boats were charmed to travel automatically between the prison and the apparition point, which was little more than a large sandbar in the middle of the ocean. Only official Azkaban guards were allowed to floo in directly to the fortress; prisoners, Aurors, and visitors had to make the journey there by boat from the apparition point. It was all part of the prison's extensive safety and precautionary policies.
Hermione's thoughts blurred as her body grew heavy, sinking further into the comforting heat of Malfoy's large body. Her last clear thoughts were of how weirdly nice he smelled, and how it wasn't fair given that he was a literal dog.
A dull light behind her eyelids slowly dragged Hermione from the best sleep she'd had in ages. She groaned in soft protest and threw an arm over her eyes as she turned her head, desperate for a few extra minutes of precious slumber. Her nose bumped something solid and warm.
When she blearily peeled open her eyes to see what it was, she was met with the sight of someone's bare navel. Freezing, Hermione squinted and gazed up-
And promptly yelped when Draco Malfoy's scowling face was there to greet her.
Hermione gracelessly shot up and scurried away from him, letting out a second yelp when she realized he was stark naked.
Rolling his eyes at her reaction, Malfoy grabbed for a nearby tarp to cover his bottom half, his arms visibly shaking at the exertion.
The Gryffindor stared as the events of the night caught up to her, mouth gaping artlessly. Her recent sleep deprivation must have affected her worse than she thought if she'd truly slept like the dead throughout the night in such a situation. She hadn't even woken when he shifted back.
"If you're quite done staring at me like a ninny," Malfoy's croaky voice made her jump, "perhaps you could tell me what the hell happened last night and where the hell we are?"
Hermione blinked. "Ah, right, yes, um…how long ago did you change back?"
Malfoy shrugged, wincing at the action. "I dunno…maybe ten minutes ago?"
She nodded shakily and ran a hand through her hair, cringing at the sheer amount of frizz. Pushing her undoubtedly monstrous hair out of her mind, Hermione proceeded to recount the events of the night before. As she did so, Malfoy's expression slowly contorted as though he'd taken a bite out of a lemon.
"Did-" he choked and cleared his throat, "-did I…kill anyone?"
Hermione's brows furrowed in sympathy. "I…I don't know, Malfoy. I'm sorry."
The Slytherin huffed out a pitiful little moan of despair, pressing a hand to his chest as though the sound pained him.
She chewed on her lip, wariness and a desire to comfort him warring within her. Thankfully, his next words prevented her from having to choose.
"Why are you here, Granger?" he said just loudly enough for her to hear.
Hermione twisted her fingers together as she answered. "I…I needed to talk to you. About this. About…us."
Malfoy sent her a tired glare. "There is no us, Granger."
At this, Hermione frowned in annoyance. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about!"
"Oh, and you do know what you're talking about?" Malfoy shot back. Though his expression was angry, Hermione could see the subtle hint of panic hidden behind his eyes.
The Gryffindor drew in a breath, trying to collect herself. She wouldn't get any answers if they just yelled at each other; as usual, she would have to be the bigger person and ignore Malfoy's infuriating smarminess.
"I'm not stupid, Malfoy," Hermione said carefully, "did you think I would just forget about what happened in the Room of Requirement?"
Malfoy visibly grimaced at the reminder. "That meant nothing-"
"Like hell it did!" she interrupted hotly, causing the Slytherin to blink in surprise. Hermione planted her hands on her hips. "Look Malfoy, you may be happy to pretend it never happened, but I'm not! I remember every moment very clearly! I know that you saved my life, and I know I'm your mate!"
Somehow, she managed to get the word out without stumbling over it.
Malfoy sneered, running a hand through his hair. "Same old know-it-all swot, aren't you? Think you're always right-"
"Tell me I'm wrong, then! Look me in the eye and tell me I'm not your mate, and this is all just some big misunderstanding!" Hermione practically shouted.
He met her glare head on, upper lip twitching as though he was holding back some very choice words. As the silence dragged on, she had her answer.
Malfoy dropped his weary gaze in defeat. "How did you know?" he mumbled.
"Logic, Malfoy. I'm friends with a werewolf, I'm fairly well versed with how they act. Though the good amount of research I did certainly didn't hurt," she muttered the last part.
The Slytherin huffed an unamused laugh. "Of course, what would Hermione Granger do without her precious research?" He raised his head and cast her a forcefully blank glance. "Well, now that you've thoroughly stuck your nose where it doesn't belong, what do you intend to do about it?"
Hermione arched an unimpressed brow. "I think my nose belongs exactly where it is, thank you very much. After all, this affects me just as much as you. I mean…can't you feel it?" she trailed off, rubbing her chest absently.
Malfoy was silent for a beat. Then, a long, sorrowful sigh. "It doesn't mean anything, Granger." She opened her mouth to protest, but he beat her to it. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a convicted criminal now. And I highly doubt you've any interest in wasting your life beside someone stuck in Azkaban."
"That's another reason I came to see you," Hermione protested, "I'm going to testify for you at your trial. I want to get you out of here."
Malfoy gave a pained sneer. "I don't want your pity, Granger!"
"Don't!" she growled, leaping to her feet. "Do not for one second assume that I have the room in my heart or the desire in my soul for something like pity, Malfoy! Particularly for you!"
Something flashed in his eyes then, something like hurt, but it was gone so quickly, Hermione was certain she imagined it. Instead, Malfoy shot her a degrading smile. "You really are smart, eh?"
Before she could ask him what he meant, the Slytherin gave a pained groan and clutched his chest.
That other part of Hermione skittered nervously at the sight of him in pain. "A-Are you alright?"
Malfoy merely shrugged. "Everything fucking feels like it was just ripped apart and sewn back together overnight. For my first change, I'd say I'm doing just great."
His sarcastic drawl went right over her head at his admission. "This was your first time changing?" she asked incredulously.
He paused as if he hadn't realized he'd said that aloud. Hermione quickly recalled the last full moon and did the math in her head:
The final battle had been three weeks ago, and he'd already been a werewolf then, so he had to have been turned sometime during the Easter hols.
Hermione's blood froze as the answer came to her like a splash of cold water. "It was…that day Harry, Ron and I were brought to the Manor, wasn't it?" she whispered in horror.
Malfoy spared her a brief shocked, haunted glance. Then, his lips curled into a sardonic smile. "Brightest witch of our age indeed," he drawled woefully.
Hermione pressed her lips into a thin line, totally unwilling to speak anymore of that horrible day.
Malfoy seemed to share the sentiment, and they lapsed into silence.
The Gryffindor didn't know how she felt about the fact that it had been inadvertently their doing that got Malfoy turned into a werewolf. However, given what she herself had gone through that day, Hermione found she had little sympathy to spare.
"How did they not know that you were a werewolf?" she tentatively asked after a few long moments.
"Because it wasn't any of their bloody business," Malfoy replied callously.
Hermione blinked incredulously. "Wha…Malfoy, do you realize the kind of trouble you've just gotten yourself into? As if your involvement with Voldemort-" he flinched, "-wasn't bad enough already, but now that you're a werewolf too, it will only give the Wizengamot more to pit against you in trial!"
"Fucking hell Granger, don't you think I know that!?" the Slytherin barked angrily. "It's all I've been thinking about since they threw me into that miserable little cell! I don't need you to come around and remind me that I'll be spending the rest of my life caged up like an animal!"
"You won't, that's why I've come, to help you!" Hermione exclaimed.
"I don't need your help!" Malfoy shot back. "I'll not be your next bloody charity case, Granger! I'm going to be a disgusting, half-bred beast for the rest of my pathetic life, and there's nothing you, or anyone else can do about it!"
A sickening mixture of indignation and sorrow churned in Hermione's stomach at his cruel, self-degrading words. "You're not a-"
"Don't, Granger." His voice broke. "Don't try to tell me what I am and what I'm not. I'm a monster, and that's that." Malfoy's eyes flickered with several unnamed emotions before he jerkily averted his gaze. "Just leave, Granger. The Aurors will be here soon, and I'm sure you're not keen on being accused of helping an inmate escape from Azkaban. So sod off and let me rot in peace."
A chill ran down Hermione's spine, from both his colorless, resigned tone and the uncanny resemblance to Ron's heartless words. "And the glaring fact that I'm your mate? What about that, hm?" she pushed, trying desperately to get some kind of reaction out of him.
Malfoy's cold, lifeless expression unnerved her greatly.
"Does it mean nothing to you?" Hermione asked quietly.
Several strands of pale hair fell into Malfoy's face as though trying to hide him from her. "Just…just forget about it, Granger," he croaked. "I know you didn't ask to be bound to someone like me. And I sure as hell never asked to be turned into a werewolf and given a mate."
Hermione easily read between the lines and her heart cracked.
A muggleborn. He never asked to be bound to a muggleborn. Of course.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, the Gryffindor lifted her chin. "Right. My apologies for caring. I thought maybe we could be mature adults and talk this out, but you're clearly too preoccupied mourning the loss of your precious pure blood. Don't know why I expected any different. Honestly, I think I liked you better as a werewolf!"
Malfoy fisted the tarp until his hands shook, but said nothing.
Spinning on her heel, Hermione fought to keep her voice level. "Very well, I'll not stay where I'm not wanted. I'll leave you in peace. I expect the guards will be here to pick you up soon enough."
With that, the Gryffindor disembarked the small vessel, shoes sinking into the sand as she stomped to the apparition point. She stubbornly wiped away a few traitorous tears before they could fall; he wasn't worth it.
Even as the other part of her cried louder with every step that carried her further away from him, Hermione told that foolish part to shove it.
Malfoy didn't want her, and that was that. It was fine. It certainly wasn't as if she wanted him either, and the moment she found out how to break this stupid bond between them, she'd never spare Draco Malfoy another thought again.
Right before disapparating away, Hermione snuck one more glance at the despondent blond. He hadn't moved, studiously avoiding her gaze with his head down, completely defeated.
"See you at the trial, Malfoy," she shouted spitefully before turning on her heel and vanishing.
Well, that didn't go very well. Someone seriously needs to help these poor, hapless teenagers. They're worse at communicating than a married couple from a fifties sitcom.
Also, thank you for your patience, everyone. Life is busy, and as desperately as I wish I could quit everything and make my fics my number one priority, it's just not in the cards right now.
ALSO also, holy crap, thank you all SO FUCKING MUCH for the overwhelming support and positive feedback to chapter one, I honestly was not expecting that at all. I thought I'd get maybe a handful of views and follows at best, so imagine my surprise when my inbox gets flooded with reviews and favorites galore! You've made me all the more excited to delve further into this fic, and I'm so hyped that you're all here to take this journey with me. :)
