Gravity.
Disc : Harry Potter is not mine.
Seventeen
Hermione felt the heat before the pain. Bellatrix's curse was ruthless and sharp, but it could have been worse. They would torture her until she spoke. She wouldn't speak.
She saw the boys standing behind her, but she wouldn't let them down now.
She also saw Draco, standing, staring, behind Narcissa. Their eyes met and Hermione wanted to scream at him. She thought that things were different, but nothing had ever changed. Once a backstabbing Death Eater, always a backstabbing Death Eater.
Hermione shook her head through the pain and Draco looked away quickly, trying to hide, trying to get out of the room. He didn't want to be there, watching a girl he had grown to care about be ripped apart on his living room carpet.
"Just take them to the dungeon." Bellatrix snapped and Hermione was whisked away to the dungeons with the boys, where she curled up and cried silently while the others tried to sleep.
In the early morning, Draco arrived with food. Hermione ignored his attempts at an apology and took the food without a word. She chewed slowly and pretended to be involved with Harry and Ron's plans. With so many people in one cell, it was easy to slip in and out of consciousness.
Hermione was disappointed in herself and in Draco. He was supposed to care more for her than before. He was supposed to be her friend.
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