Chapter Thirteen

"Take care of yourself and don't give Malfoy an inch."

Those had been Harry's departing words. They seemed so long ago, but in reality, it had been only four days.

Hermione had been given a bedroll to sleep on and a sturdy gelding without a name. These things were so impersonal there was no way to make them hers.

But then, that was the general idea.

They'd been riding for days – Hermione was unsure as to whether or not there was a destination in mind – but the plan was working perfectly. She did not feel like herself. She had no privacy, even to collect her thoughts.

Last night, she'd learned how to ride and sleep at the same time. The morning had arisen before Hermione had convinced herself she'd gotten sleep. There was a heated fencing match between two of the men in the group that morning; One of them was named John, but she wasn't sure of the other.

But it was the other who'd caught her eye. Later on that day, she resolved to speak with the boy. He had won – if there had been time, Hermione might have found him quite intriguing.

She hadn't spoken to Draco in the four days that had passed and she was actually quite relieved. It was much easier to forget about his pale, pointed face when he wasn't around. And forgetting him meant a step in the direction of forgetting herself.

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That night, the group hunted.

They set up camp in an open area near a sort of half-crumbled, old wall made mostly of stone. Three larges fires were started and a small group of the men went off to see what kind of game they could bring back.

Meanwhile, Hermione found herself sandwiched between two of the female members of the group around the first fire. On her left was a matronly figure named Janice, plump with child. To her right was a beautiful young girl with a face that held immeasurable sadness.

What a cheerful and exciting crew, Hermione thought to herself.

The woman, Janice, seemed to share her sentiments, "Look at all these LONG faces!" She had a thick Irish brogue. Getting to her feet with some difficulty, she announced to the company, "This is no way to live, I tell you. Some happiness, please."

The girl to Hermione's right smiled a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Other members of the group were just as lethargic.

From behind, one of the members of the band started tuning his fiddle.

"That's the spirit, Max!" Janice exclaimed, pulling a young boy to his feet and beginning an embarrassing dance around the fire with him. The boy grew excited and started dancing around with her, laughing exuberantly.

Their joy was hard to block out. Before long, many members of the troupe were up and about, if not dancing than chatting animatedly. It was such a change from their usual morose way of life that Hermione vaguely wondered if she was dreaming.

"May I have this dance?"

The voice was unfamiliar, but Hermione thought she'd always known it at the same time. She turned and was surprised to come face to face with the boy who'd won the fencing match that morning.

"Of course," she obliged before remembering she wasn't too much of a dancer. She went to the Yule Ball in fourth year with Victor Krum… but she hadn't danced in the four years since. "I must warn you that I'm not much of a dancer."

"Perfectly alright," he assured her, sweeping her off her feet in such a way that Hermione had been convinced wasn't possible except in novels.

Upon further inspection, the boy looked remarkably like Draco, but for the fact that his eyes were a bright, sparkling green. He also had a tan; Hermione was sure Draco had never had a tan in his whole life. This boy was also a bit shorter than Draco, reaching jut to about Hermione's own height.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Adrian."

"It's a pleasure," Hermione answered, fumbling with her manners. How quickly she'd forgotten them!

He smiled, amused, "And you are?"

A red tinge flushed Hermione's face, "I'm sorry. My name is Hermione."

"Hermione," he repeated, as though he was tasting her name, "that is a beautiful name. Tell me, from where do you come from?"

"I used to live in Cheshire, but recently I moved in with my grandmother in Merseyside."

"Lovely area, that," Adrian remarked.

"Indeed."

Hermione found herself enjoying Adrian's company until the fiddler decided to take a quick break to relieve himself and Adrian was asked for by a very brazen girl with flaxen hair.

For the first time in what seemed like months, Hermione found she'd enjoyed herself – certainly not as much as she had that one night at the Yule Ball, but it was progress all the same.

Sitting down, she vaguely began to wonder what Victor Krum was up to these days. They had both changed so drastically; Would she even recognize him if he walked by?

"We've got mail."

The voice was sudden and indifferent. Hermione looked up to find Draco standing in front of her, a few pieces of parchment in hand. She hadn't seen him in all of four – or was it five? – days: That he was addressing her directly now came close to completely astounding her.

Trust a Malfoy to only speak to someone when they needed them for something.

"This one's yours," he continued, thrusting a piece of parchment at her.

Hermione took the paper, unsure of what to expect. It turned out to be a Hogwarts letter, spewing the same mumbo-jumbo as it did every year, but continuing on to talk about the special nature of the eighth years and that they were to be combined into a single grade with the seventh years.

"Same old crap," Draco remarked. Hermione wasn't sure if he was talking to her or to himself, so she remained silent.

They were silent for a long while, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

Something struck Hermione, "What's the date today?"

It took Draco a moment to figure out that he didn't know the date, either. He cast a simple spell Hermione resolved to found out about later, and replied, "August the 15th."

That meant that term was only a half a month away! They could be safe at Hogwarts.

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by Adrian, who strode over, "Can I pressure you for another dance? I seem to have been abandoned by my partner."

He didn't really seem to mind having been "abandoned." A half of an amused smile blossomed on Hermione's face and she stood. Adrian bowed and took her hand.

Despite herself, Hermione could only wonder what kind of impression this gave Draco. As soon as she finally got the right angle to get a good look at his face, she was disappointed to find him studying a third piece of parchment – not at all interested in the fact that this boy was giving her attention.

Some fiancé.

But… WAS he her fiancé? Should she really consider him that? Probably not: She didn't even consider him a friend, let alone her betrothed.

Before long, Draco reached the end of the letter and Hermione noticed his eyes scanning the group of people dancing. He was looking for her in the crowd, probably to ask if she was a Prefect. She was, of course.

Adrian was droning on about someone or another in the group when Draco spotted her and began to stride purposefully their way.

It only took him a few seconds to reach them. "Hey, kid," he butted in, "if you don't mind, I need her back."

Hermione wondered if it was on purpose that he only referred to her as "her" instead of by name.

Adrian had clearly been taken by surprise. He looked Draco up and down twice and his eyes narrowed, "Who the hell are you?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Draco Malfoy, not that it's your business."

Hermione wondered what was in the letter that had got Draco into such a foul mood. She hadn't seen him this bratty since their earlier school days.

The wheels in Adrian's head seemed to be spinning; He was standing in such a way that none of his body was left unguarded – almost like he was expecting an attack. It was clear that this boy was an experienced fighter.

"Yes, of course. I'll be seeing you around Hermione," he almost whispered. He did not turn his back on Draco until he was well out of range.

Things just kept getting stranger and stranger around here.

"So before lover boy interrupted," Draco began, leading Hermione to a seat, "I've been keeping tabs on our families and I thought you should be updated, as well. Since we're in this… together and everything."

Hermione might have been angry with him, had she not been more curious. It still struck her as unusual that someone would refer to Dora as her family; Somewhere in her mind, she was still just a nice old lady that was taking her in until her parents got back from vacation.

But that was never going to happen, Hermione had to remind herself. Her parents were dead. Dead. And dead meant gone for good.

"What did the letter say?"

Draco eyed her like he knew everything that was going through her head – but of course, he didn't.

"My father's got people looking for us in every province of England."

It took Hermione a moment to realize the extent of this. Was he searching the ENTIRE ISLAND?

"He's turning the country upside-down," Draco confirmed her suspicions. "But the most important thing to note is this: Somehow, my father knows we haven't left the country."

Hermione hadn't thought of things from that aspect and it was indeed, very serious. If Lucius knew they were still in England, what was to stop him from finding them as soon as tomorrow? One island wasn't going to offer enough space to hide them, especially not from Lucius Malfoy.

"Why does he want us to get married so badly? You'd think he wouldn't want anything to DO with me," Hermione murmured.

Draco looked at her, but only quickly; It was hard to look at her and not think of her as fragile.

"I was wondering that, myself," Draco admitted. "Blaise has been keeping me informed."

Hermione looked up at him and in that moment, he saw the question in her mind: How do we know that Blaise Zabini isn't going to sell us out?

"He's a very loyal friend," Draco attempted, "he's the one who dropped the false lead that we'd gone to the Isle of Man."

Hermione looked to her feet. It was August the 15th. The wedding date was eleven days away and school began five days after that. Could they stay hidden for another sixteen days with only Blaise Zabini for comfort in knowing that Lucius was on the wrong trail?

No, Hermione didn't think she could do that. More than ever, she wanted the warm, safe arms of her mother.

If her mother and father had been alive, they would never have allowed a union such as this. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy – these were two people who could never fall in love. Ever. Period.

Jeannie Granger would never have allowed her daughter to have been forced into any marriage. Quite frankly, before the disastrous events of the summer, Hermione knew she wouldn't be sitting in the background of some unknown place, just hoping that big, bad Lucius Malfoy wouldn't find her and force her to marry his son.

Something inside her woke up, not for the first time, and it was furious. Something would have to be done about this situation, because Hermione Jane Granger did NOT wait around for trouble to hit her in the face.

No. Hermione Jane Granger stood up and fought. Or at least, she used to.

It was true that she didn't want to marry Draco. But if truth be told, she would rather be Hermione Malfoy than someone like… Hermione Longbottom. It wasn't that Neville was a bad person, it was just that he was so… Neville.

There was something alluring about Draco, though she never would have admitted it to herself. But she was sure that if she became the next Mrs. Malfoy, her husband would be a rare sighting – like a bottlenose dolphin in the English channel. She could all but pretend he didn't exist...

"Did you know about this wall?" Draco prompted.

Hermione had all but forgotten he was there. "No, what about it?"

"It's a part of what's left of Antonine's Wall."

Of course, the lesser-known of the Roman walls built in the North, the little brother of Hadrian's Wall.

But something about this piece of information didn't seem right to Hermione. It took a moment to get her Muggle history straight, but unless she was mistaken…

"Draco, if this is Antonine's Wall, we're in Scotland."

To his credit, Draco was quick realize the importance of this information. "If we're in Scotland…"

Hermione's eyes lit up. "…Your dad isn't going to find us here. We're safe."

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Author's Note: Thanks a bundle to sureynot, Readerforlife, brooklynsam3, RIPJameSiriusLupinTrueMarauder and GoodCharlotte615 for the reviews!

I made this chapter a little longer, since someone complained that the chapters were too short. Hope you all enjoyed!

P.S. Remember to review!!