Death Threat

Hermione's entire body tensed when Draco came back into the bedroom. She was sitting on the bed waiting for him, trying with all that was in her to look as though she hadn't followed him down the stairs and heard what he'd said. It was all some queer ruse. He was doing favors for her but all the while he was planning to get rid of her. It didn't even make any sense. Why didn't he just hand her over to Voldemort so he could win back favour with him?

She tightened her grip on her wand as he approached her. She wasn't going down without a fight. But at the same time, she didn't want to rush him into an attack. If she knew him at all, he would try while she was asleep. That's when he did his best work apparently. Merlin knows why he didn't just do away with her when she had still been unconscious.

"Do you like it?" he asked nervously.

The first thing that came to her mind was a snide remark but she stopped herself. The man was clearly unstable and she didn't want to test his limits. She just stared at him.

Something was off about her, Draco could tell. He just couldn't tell what. She constantly went back and forth between seeming completely cold and emotionless to staring at him with the most intense hatred he had ever seen. At that moment though, she was staring at him but her eyes kept moving in a strange, almost frantic pattern. It looked as though she were sizing him up for battle. It was eerie. In his periphery he saw her hand and the white-knuckled grip she had on her wand. He hoped it was just the remaining fear that he would take it from her again.

"Will you at least stay here?" he tried again when the silence had reached uncomfortable.

"Yes," she agreed far too quickly.

His eyes narrowed. What had happened while he'd been downstairs? What kind of change could have occurred in five minutes? "Are you hungry?" he asked, even though he knew full well that she would make her own food if she were. She never ate with him anyway.

Maybe he would try to poison her, she thought. That was the coward's way after all; it wasn't direct. Good thing she had been making her own food. "I can make us lunch," she offered. She wanted to get on his good side after all. Maybe if he found her useful he would think twice about killing her. It had worked for her before. She hopped off of the bed, wand still in hand and walked toward him. "What do you want?"

Something was definitely wrong. She was talking and offering to make lunch for both of them…it was strange. "I can make us—"

"I can do it," she interrupted quickly and sped out of the room.

Draco felt his brain had been stupefied as he stared at the empty doorway. "What just happened?" he mumbled to the empty room. He shook his head and followed her down to the kitchen. She was moving around, quickly levitating things through the air. There were two knives buttering slices of bread next to the stove and she was slicing a block of cheese by hand. It was oddly mesmerizing to watch her. "What are you making?"

She jumped, tensed and froze at the sound of his voice; even the knives stopped moving and just hung in the air. "Grilled Cheese."

"What's that?"

He watched her shoulders rise and fall as she inhaled deeply. "It's a cheese sandwich that's grilled."

Sounded delicious, he thought, but he still wanted to know what had gotten in to her. As of that morning she hadn't spoken a single word to him and now she was making lunch for him. He wouldn't have complained…if the change hadn't happened in five minutes. And if she didn't have a slightly schizophrenic look her eyes…

She went back to her work.

She ate every meal with him after that in an awkward, tense silence that made him loose his appetite most days. Her eyes always had that wide, scared, crazed look and she tensed every time he entered a room. It was almost worse than the silence and avoidance. He couldn't sleep very well… he swore he could hear pacing across the hall.

He wasn't wrong. Every night Hermione lay on her back in the most comfortable bed she had ever been in and stared at the maroon canopy. She couldn't sleep. She couldn't risk him catching her off guard and finishing her while she was vulnerable. Whenever she did start to doze off, any like creak or noise would have her eyes frantically searching the darkness and she would reach for her wand and sweep the room. After a few nights of that she took to pacing the perimeter of the room and keeping close watch on the door.

She knew she was going crazy. There was nothing keeping her there; as far as she knew he hadn't bound her to the house without her knowledge. She could open the window and sneak out whenever she wanted and be free of the constant fear that he would turn on her at any moment. Only, the moment she did that every other fear that she had been freed of in that house would come back. The fear of someone else catching her, starving to death, freezing to death, or dying in any other way that happened when you never had a place to stay…they all came back the moment she left.

Here she couldn't sleep anymore than she had out there, but she had a roof over head and three meals a day and snacks even if she wanted them. She had books too…it had been so long since she had gotten to read a book. So she settled for no sleep and maniacal pacing. It was the better of two evils.

Draco noticed the change in her body. She had been gaining weight since she'd arrived, but she started to look unhealthy again. Her weight was fine but her skin began to look pasty and dark circles appeared under her eyes than seemed to get worse with everyday. Then she started not noticing when he entered a room. Where at once she tensed, he could now get within inches of her without her even noticing and she was always staring off into space.

She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks.

He walked in the kitchen on a Monday morning. It was early, the sun had just come up, but she was already standing at the counter, food spread out in front of her. But she wasn't moving.

"Hermione?" he whispered after staring at her stationary form for a minute.

Her shoulders tensed and he saw her fingers curl around the handle of a large knife in an eerie, slow motion, one finger at a time. For the first time in a long time, he felt his heart skip in fear. She'd been acting strange since Goyle had come over and in all honesty he didn't know what she was capable of.

"Hermione," he whispered again, nervously.

She turned on him slowly, knife in hand. Her eyes held that crazed yet cold look of determination and she held the knife in a clear attack position. The dark circles combined with her slightly bent position completed that terrifying look. He was afraid of her.

She took a step and he reached for his wand, immediately pointing it at her chest.

"What're you gonna do, Draco?" she practically hissed and took another step. "Are you finally gonna kill me?

Finally? What had gotten into her? More importantly, what had happened to her to make her this way? He held his ground as she took another menacing step toward him. He didn't want to hurt her, but she would hurt him or even kill him with that look in her eyes. "Take one more step and I'll do it, I swear."

Her eyes became eerily placid as she took another step across the kitchen floor. "Go ahead, kill me," she challenged calmly. "My body can catch up with my soul."

Sadness ripped through Draco's heart and he lowered his wand and just stared at her.

Then she broke. "Do it," she yelled desperately, "Just do it already! I can't take this anymore! If you ever felt anything for me, please just do it and get it over with!"

"I-I-I can't," he stammered in astonishment.

She dropped the knife and rushed toward him, grabbing his wrist and re-aiming his wand. "Just say it!" she demanded through tears and gritted teeth.

"You really want to die?" he managed through his constricted throat, not to mention her painful grip on his wrist. "Why?"

"Why?" she shrieked madly. "I don't feel anything anymore! I can't remember what it feels like to smile or laugh or-or hope! I only feel anger and hate." She dropped his wrist and covered her face with her hands as she began to sob. "I don't want to…"

Without a second thought, Draco pulled her to him like he had always done so many years ago. She fought him fiercely and shrieked her protests but he held onto her firmly until she finally collapsed against him. "I don't want to but I can't help it," she whispered hoarsely. "And it's never going to change. There is no hope for me. You once told me you loved me and even you want to kill me."

He immediately pulled her back and looked into her eyes, hoping she could see the honesty in them. "I do not want to kill you."

This seemed to calm her. "You told Goyle I was dead," she argued.

He nodded. "And if he ever by some miracle realizes who you are, he will tell every one that you're dead."

He felt her body relax more as understanding sparked in her eyes. "Then they'll stop hunting me."

"That's the idea," he said. "I want to help you, Hermione. That's all I've ever wanted."

Her eyes seemed to soften for a moment. "What did you do to me before I woke up?"

His eyes narrowed. That was months ago. "When you first arrived?"

"Yes," she confirmed and not without accusation. "I know I was filthy and putrid, but I woke up clean."

His eyes closed slowly. He'd been insane to think she wouldn't notice that she was clean. "I cleaned you up," he admitted quickly with his eyes closed. "And yes, you were naked but I didn't know what kinds of diseases you could have on you and I didn't want you to just lie there in your own filth until you woke up. So you can slap me or make me belch slugs or something."

Her body relaxed completely under his touch. "It's okay," she said, blinking at him in confusion. "Thank you."