Draco's eyes were greeted by the unfamiliar site of a canvas ceiling as he blinked away the grogginess that filled him. He was seized by a sudden panic when his mind cleared and he remembered the flare of red light that had hit him. His mother! He shook away the memory of his mother hitting him with a stunning spell; there must be some mistake, she would never have done that – never. He had to find his mother and find out what had happened. He hauled himself up off the cot bed in which he lay; stumbling slightly as he misjudged his first step. Draco's attention was drawn to Hermione's unconscious figure. He would deal with her later; he needed to find his mother first.

Draco wheeled around, searching the tent for any signs of the older witch. The two other beds in within the tent lay empty. Anxiety rose in his chest as Draco ripped back a drawn divider to reveal a small make shift bathroom – it was empty. He crossed the tent and ripped open the entrance, calling out to his mother. The air was filled with the sounds of morning bird song. He stumbled in the dim light, his calls for his mother becoming more desperate. When she did not answer a horrifying realisation dawned on him – she wasn't with them; she must have been stopped from escaping somehow. He took a breath and concentrated on the manor. Nothing happened. He closed his eyes and concentrated harder. Nothing happened. He turned and scowled at the tent – the mudblood must have put up wards – he would have to walk till he was far enough away to apparate back to the manor and save his mother.

The thought of what they might do to her for helping a member of the Order drove his feet forward. He had moved a small distance from the tent when he felt a strong force push him backwards, causing him to stumble and fall. He let out a growl of anger as he launched himself off the ground and back at the ward. His second attempt had a similar ending to the first, as did his third and fourth. Draco continued to fling himself at the ward in mindless frustration. His anger grew with every attempt as he realised he was trapped. He paused after his eighth or ninth attempt to compose himself. He was a wizard – a competent one at that – breaking down the wards would be difficult but he could do it. He had to do it if he was to save his mother. He searched through every inch of his robes looking for his wand. When he couldn't find it he fumbled on the ground around him. Twigs and leaves littered the ground but there was no sign of his wand. It must be in the tent. It had to be in the tent.

Once he returned Draco began to rifle around. His searches became more frantic and destructive as he failed to find his wand. He pushed a stack of books off the small desk; he pulled more from a bookcase next to it. The heavy volumes cascaded to the floor with loud thuds. The sheer number of books annoyed him as they did nothing but hinder his desperate search. A sound from behind distracted him from his hunt through the desk's draw. Hermione had begun to stir as she returned to consciousness. Draco had forgotten she was even in the tent. She must know where his wand was - what had happened to his mother. He bent over Hermione had grabbed the front of her tattered shirt, shaking her angrily. The motion extended the rip his mother had created earlier.

"Wake up! Wake up, you filthy little mudblood!" he yelled as her eyes opened, shock and confusion lacing their golden brown.

Hermione shoved at his chest in an attempt to push him off her. Her effort seemed only to goad him on. He was yelling about his wand, about wanting to know where his mother was. He began to rifle through her pockets in search of his wand, muttering angrily to himself as he did so. Hermione yelled at him to get off her as she hit him in the chest once more – he was getting dangerously close to finding her own wand. When his searching continued she brought her hand up against the side of his face with as much might as she could muster. A stinging sensation spread across her palm as her hand made impact against the side of his face, clipping his ear with her fingertips. The action took Draco by surprise and Hermione was able to push herself away from him. She gave him a small kick against the thigh with her uninjured leg for good measure. He asked her once more where his wand was, his voice a low, angry growl. It sent shivers up Hermione's spine.

"I don't have your bloody wand, Malfoy! You must have lost it at the manor!"

Hermione's answer caused Draco to swear. He sunk down to the ground and laced his fingers though his hair, swearing all the while. This was not ideal; he was wandless and unable to escape back to the manor and save his mother.

"My mother! What happened to my mother? You let something happen to her, didn't you? You fil-"

"I did no such thing!" she retorted as she stood, glaring at him, refusing to break eye contact.

"Take down the wards so I can go back for her. They'll torture her and who knows what else for trying helping you. I told her it would be easier to just go without you!"

He had gotten to his feet and was leering over Hermione. His breath felt hot against her face and she could smell the last traces of firewhiskey. His face looked slightly drawn and Hermione thought he was much paler than when she last saw him, more pallid. She refused to back down, to be intimidated by him – this was not school, he could no longer bully her the way he once had.

"No."

It was not the answer Draco wanted to hear. He grabbed the witch by the wrist and pulled her out of the tent forcibly. Hermione retrieved her wand from its hidden pocket and shot a stinging hex at Draco's hand. He let go with a yelp and swore at her, eyeing her wand with a calculating glance.

"Don't even think about trying to take my wand, Malfoy!" she lifted it to his chest, "I will hex you quicker than you can say 'doxy'!"

"Take down the wards!" he bellowed.

"No! Even if I did you wouldn't be able to go back!" Hermione realised she would need to talk him down; if he continued his attempt to return one of them would end up getting injured. "Your mother cast an anti-appartition spell on you. She told me to get you away from the manor. To keep you away."

Hermione thought it best not to let him know that he would be able to return as long as she was with him; she had a feeling that if he knew he would force her to go back – a decision that would spell trouble for both of them. Draco stood his eyes searching hers for something – deception perhaps.

"She's in danger as long as she stays there. I have to go back." There was a note of pleading desperation in his voice that took Hermione by surprise. Draco began to pace back forth, his impatience palpable.

"Your mother doesn't remember helping us to escape – she made me obliviate her memories. As far as she knows I might have kidnapped you, taken you as a prisoner as I escaped. Who knows what they will think." Hermione decided it would be best to tell him the truth. He seemed to deflate slightly at her words, his pacing ceased and his features filled with what Hermione thought may have been dread. "She told me she couldn't leave your father but she wanted me to get you to the Order. She wants us to protect you."

Draco swore. He repeated the same word over and over, each time his voice grew louder until he finally bellowed the word. Hermione lowered her wand and turned to leave. Draco's unbridled display of emotion made her feel uncomfortable. Her back to him, Draco made an attempt at her wand, still hell bent on saving his mother. His hand wrapped around the exposed area of the wand and he tried to jerk it away from Hermione but she tightened her grip and refused to let go. She swung round and threw her free hand at his face. Draco dodged the punch but the motion unbalanced him and he fell backwards, still gripping Hermione's wand and pulling her down with him. They landed awkwardly on the forest floor and Hermione let out a grunt of pain as her injured leg made contact with a small rock.

"Let go of my wand, you slimy git!" Hermione yelled as they continued to scuffle. She knew if Draco got the upper hand he would easily be able to get the wand away from her. Through their flailing she managed to point the wand at him and yell "Petrificus totalus!" Draco's body seized and he fell to the side with a thud. His anger at being jinxed was evident as his eyes glared at Hermione. He watched as she pushed herself up and disappeared back into the tent.

Hermione slumped into the nearest chair, breathing heavily. She pulled open the tear in her jeans and checked on her injured leg. The burn had gone but there was a deep purple and black bruise in its place. She leaned back in the chair and took stock of her situation. Draco would need to be kept in check until she could get him back to the Order. Once she had contacted them it wouldn't be long before she was rid of him. Thank Merlin. She paused for a moment and decided that if she couldn't send a patronus to Harry or Ron, she would send one to another member. She weighed up her options and decided it would be safest for her to contact Tonks. She concentrated on her happiest memory and the message she wanted to send to her friend. A silver otter sprung from the tip of her wand and bounded from the tent after it did a lap around her feet.

Now that had dealt with she needed to deal with the Slytherin who lay, immobilised, outside. She knew she couldn't keep using magic on him, although the thought of getting in a few good jinxes wasn't all that unpleasant, she had to admit. Hermione knew she would have to use other means to get him to co-operate, regardless of how begrudgingly. She walked over to where he lay and kneeled so that he had a clear view of her. She spoke in a calm, even tone as she maintained eye contact with him.

"I have sent word to the Order of our situation. If you want to go back for your mother, you will need back up. They may think that you helped me escape. If that's the case then it would not end well for you. Even if you could convince them that I took you prisoner you would be returning without me; you would have let a valuable prisoner escape. We both know your lot aren't very forgiving – especially of a mistake such as that." She paused, searching his grey eyes for acknowledgement which she received in the form of an eye roll, "I'm going to unbind you now."

She muttered the counter curse and watched as Draco's body relaxed. He gave her a scowl and pushed past her into the tent. Hermione followed, pleased that her appeal to his desire for self-preservation had worked. He had drawn the dividing curtains around his bed, evidently not too keen on further interaction. That was more than fine with Hermione, feeling her git quota had been filled for the day. She busied herself tidying the mess in the tent, righting the small one seater chairs that were huddled together near the firepit. She smiled at the memory of sitting in them and spending hours chatting to Ron over a mug of hot chocolate and a warm fire. She missed her friends a great deal in that moment.

Her smile soon faded at the sight of her beloved books. They had provided them with information and distraction during their long hunt for horcruxes and now they lay thrown haphazardly on the floor. She shot a dirty look at the drawn dividers as she flicked her wand at the books, which returned neatly to their original homes. She felt hunger gnaw at her as she made her way over to the small cabinet where they had kept their food; it was filled with a small container of oats, two eggs and a can of baked beans. Hermione sighed, pulling the oats out of the cupboard and putting them on the stove to cook in a small black pot. She gave a small smile at the thought of how much more pleasant it was to camp with magic than it had been when she went with her parents as a child. Her memories of a much simpler time were interrupted by the sound of Draco pulling back his privacy curtain.

"Transfigure this piece of shit into something more comfortable." He said bluntly as he gestured to the cot bed.

"Excuse me?" Hermione was taken aback by his demand. She was certainly not impressed with his attitude. Who was he to order her to do things?

"You heard me. Make this more comfortable."

"Considering your family were hardly accommodating when it came to my sleeping arrangements during my wonderful time at the manor, I think you can just deal with the cot bed. It's certainly more comfortable than the floor I had to sleep on." She turned her attention back to the oats.

"Fine. I'll take this bed then." He made his way over to Hermione's cot bed. She had taken every effort to make it more comfortable, having enlarged it and added several fluffy blankets and pillows.

"That's my bed." Her words made Draco stop dead.

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want to sleep anywhere you and the Weasel did who knows what to each other – assuming he was wizard enough to plunge his family further into disgrace." Draco gave the bed a disgusted look and moved back to his original spot.

Hermione felt her anger flare at Draco's words. Her relationship with Ron had been somewhat awkward during their travels. They had had some marvellous times together – she thought once again of their late night discussions – but these often ended in Ron becoming awkward and fidgety before he abruptly went to bed. Hermione had often been left doubting her attractiveness, wondering if perhaps Rita Skeeter had been correct when she had described her as "plain".

It took every ounce of Hermione's willpower to not retort. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of an argument. She turned back to the oats and stirred them once more before dishing up a bowl for herself. She took a seat and pointedly ignored the sounds Draco's huffs as he fidgeted on the bed. She could see the first rays of light enter the tent as she finished her food and pulled off her torn jeans before climbing into bed – she didn't have the energy to find her pyjamas in her trunk. She flicked her wand at the curtains around her bed and they drew closed. She sighed and closed her eyes. She was just about to slip into sleep when she heard an echoing female voice call her name. She gave a start at the sight of Tonks's patronus. It tilted its head at her before speaking.

Do not return. Grimmauld place compromised.

We will let you know when it is safe to come back.

You need to keep moving around. Don't stay in one spot too long.

Keep Malfoy with you – he could prove useful.

The wolf gave her a lick on the arm before disappearing. She started blankly at where it had stood, annoyed at how abrupt the message had been. If she were to be honest she had expected more excitement at her escape, instead she just got an instruction to wander around the country till she was called back to the Order. She was frustrated at how useless the situation made her feel. She fell back against her pillow and stared at the ceiling blankly. The privacy curtains were ripped back and Draco stood at the end of her bed, glaring at her.

"What did that patronus say to you?"

"They will let us know when it's safe to return. Until then we need to move around and keep hidden." She turned away from him and pulled the covers up. He didn't need to know anything more and she wasn't particularly keen to have him standing over the bed any longer than was necessary.

"How long will that be?"

"I don't know Malfoy." She scowled at him over her shoulder, "Now can you close the curtains, I want to sleep."

"Are you telling me I have to live with you in this filthy shithole for an unspecified amount of time? I'd rather head back to the manor and deal with whatever is waiting for me there!"

"Oh, however will you cope, you poor thing? Stuck in here with me – the dirty little mudblood. What an affront to your pure blood sensibilities this must all be." Her tone was dripping with sarcasm as she sat up in the bed and angrily gestured around at the tent. "Do you really think I want to be stuck in here with you? A failed Death Eater! The person responsible for Dumbledore's death!"

"I never killed that old fool!" He yelled.

"Because you're nothing but a coward! You talk the talk but can't walk the walk, can you Malfoy?" She had moved out the bed and was standing facing him, the corner of the bed between them. Draco seethed at her accusations of cowardice– Hermione had clearly touched a nerve, "How disappointed your dear father must be! His precious heir a failure!"

"Shut up!" He grabbed her arms, pinning them to her side. Draco stared down at Hermione, his jaw clenching in anger. She tried to squirm free from his grip. Draco let go of Hermione as if his hands had been burnt.

Hermione took a step away from him, wary of the wizard in front of her. He turned on his heel and returned to his bed, ripping the privacy curtains around him. Draco sunk to the bed – he shouldn't have let her get to him like that. He hated having his failure shoved in his face. He had been taunted by the other Death Eaters about it for long enough, made to feel like a complete failure in his own home. He cursed his father for ever getting involved with Voldemort; he cursed him for the position his failure at the Ministry had put Draco in. He cursed his mother for leaving him alone. He longed for things to be simple again – for the safety of an unspoiled home, of routine, of a time before Voldemort. Draco lay back on the bed and closed his eyes in an attempt to find some sort of calm. He heard the privacy curtains draw around Hermione's bed.

Hermione climbed into bed, her heart still pounding from the argument. She cast a silencing spell around her bed she as tried, but failed to stifle a sob. She was so tired and miserable. Her hopes of reuniting with her friends, those she loved, had been dashed with the message Tonks had sent. Instead she was stuck with Draco Malfoy for who knows how long. She closed her eyes and tried to find sleep but it refused to come as her mind still raced thoughts of the evening's events. The sun had risen fully before sleep stole her from the world.