22 May, Saturday, 0800 BST
He sat fiddling with his silver chain against his chest as he watched the emerald green silk fabric rise and fall as she breathed. He canted his head as he studied her. She hadn't changed a bit since they were at Hogwarts; same brown hair, same deep dark brown eyes. He actually always thought she wasn't that bad looking; for a Mudblood.
He shook that thought out of his mind. What had happened the night before? He had gone alone into the reported Death Eater hideout. He nodded nonchalantly at one of the pawns in the living room of the mansion. He heard the screams. He gulped, hoping the young Death Eater hadn't noticed. "Loose lips sink ships," one of his new Muggle–born associates had said.
o-o-o
He looked at the Death Eater who was smoking those damn Muggle cigarettes. He heard another set of wails. "So I see we're trying to make the most of our defeat."
The young Death Eater laughed in spite of himself. "Yeah," he said, taking a puff. "We've got one last one down in the cellar. Crabbe said we should save her for last."
"Who is she?" Draco asked.
"That fucken Mudblood during your year, Sir," the young man said matter of fact.
Draco nodded his head. He stood up. "I think I'm going to join Crabbe upstairs. Have my share of the fun," Draco said as the young Death Eater laughed.
Draco made a movement toward the stairs. But before the young man could react, he rounded on the unsuspecting Death Eater killing him quietly. He made his way down the corridor that led towards the cellar, quickly killing four of his former brethren.
He remembered still hearing the screams from upstairs. He shut his eyes for a moment as he made his way down the familiar dank stairwell. He saw her leaning against the bars as he reached the bottom. Their eyes locked for a moment before she collapsed to the ground.
He swore under his breath. He should just leave her here, he had thought to himself; let them have their way with her. It's not as if she had ever done him any favors. He destroyed the cell door. He knelt down next to her.
They had beaten her badly. Her robes lay torn. She wore her casual Muggle wear that he usually frowned upon. Her jeans and t-shirt were covered with muck from the cell floor. He looked up to the ceiling. "You owe me Granger," he said as he scooped her up into his arms. She seemed smaller than he remembered. He took a deep breath, rolled his eyes and then disapparated.
o-o-o
He stood up and headed towards the bed. He took a deep breath as he picked up the medicine canister. He looked at the label again before placing it into his trouser pocket. He looked over at the unconscious woman.
He waved his wand uttering Scourgify to clean up the blood and other bodily fluids. He waved his wand again and their clothes had appeared on their bodies. He stood up. He poked her side, maybe just a little too hard, with the end of his wand. She gasped before grimacing. Her eyes fluttered open.
She sat up slowly as she saw him point his wand at her. "Get up," he said in a measured tone.
She stumbled out of the bed, trying to get her legs under her. She knelt on her knees in front of him with her hands on the back of her head. He looked at her slightly puzzled. Then he smirked. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked in disdain.
"You're going to execute me," she said softly, not looking up into his face as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"Get up," he said through clenched teeth. 'What the hell was she thinking?' he thought to himself.
She got up slowly, still with her hands on the back of her head. He walked around her. "Put your arms down," he commanded as he made her look at him. She took a deep breath. She pulled her arms to her sides.
He turned towards his door. She breathed in again. She followed behind him. 'Where was he leading her?' she thought to herself.
"Where are you taking me?" her small voice seemed pitiful.
He turned around to face her. She stopped in her tracks. He said nothing for a moment. Then he narrowed his eyes at her.
"Where is your wand?"
"It shattered last night," she said looking at him. "What does it matter?"
"I guess you won't be able to apparate, then," he said icily. He took a hold of her hand and waved his wand.
o-o-o
The Leaky Cauldron's bar was empty, obviously. What would one expect at eight in the morning? They exited into the Muggle street. Hermione's eyes enlarged. He pulled her in closer to his body. She felt the point of his wand pushing into her already sore ribs. He eased up on his grasp.
They walked in silence for a while. She looked at the familiar Muggle high rises. He slowed down. He pointed towards the tall white building opposite them. "Must be safe in there, huh? Good working environment?"
She was speechless for a moment. "Yeah, I guess," she said looking at him. "How did you know I work there?"
"Know thy enemy, Granger," he said smirking at her. He pushed her forward. They walked on for another ten blocks.
They stopped in front of the recognizable brownstone. Hermione took in a slow breath. "Know thy enemy," she whispered softly.
Draco hid a smirk. He prodded her forward. She led him up the stairs to the apartment building.
"Ah, Hermione. Good morning dear," an older woman said smiling at the couple that had just entered.
"Mrs. Thompson," the young witch smiled weakly. She looked at Draco and then back at her landlady.
"Pulled an all-nighter, did you?" she asked with slight innuendo. She smiled, "So who's the lovely fellow?"
Hermione gulped. "Um, Mrs. Thelma Thompson, this is a," the dark haired young woman hesitated. "This is Draco Malfoy, an acquaintance of mine from boarding school. Draco this is Mrs. Thompson, my landlady."
The two shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. "Well, you two have fun," the older woman said nodding at the young couple before heading to do her landlord duties.
Hermione looked up at Draco. Draco nodded at her. Normally she would have used the elevator to go up the five floors. She led him instead to the stairs. If she was going to die this morning, she was going to put it off as long as she could.
Draco had allowed her some space. She led him up the five flights of stairs. At the landing, she looked down the corridor. Her door was the sixth on the right. She led him down the hallway. She felt for her wallet and clumsily pulled out her key. She looked back up at him as she put the key into the doorknob.
She led him into her apartment. He shut and locked the door behind him. She took a deep breath. "Are you going to make it look like a suicide?"
He narrowed his eyes at her. "I told you, I'm going to keep you alive."
She took another deep breath. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep her eyes from watering. She turned her chin up and headed for the kitchen.
Draco canted his head at her before following her toward the kitchen. He held his wand loosely; ready to aim it at her if she tried something. "What are you doing?"
"If you're going to keep me alive," she narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm going to have breakfast, if you don't mind."
He nodded at her. He leaned against the counter as he watched her pull out a frying pan. She pulled out some bread and the tray of eggs from the refrigerator. She looked at him.
"How do you take your eggs?" she asked icily.
o-o-o
Neither spoke at breakfast. Hermione was on edge the whole time. When he was done with his breakfast, he took a sip of his coffee. He stood up and looked around. "No fireplace," he commented.
She shook her head. He nodded at her as he placed the pill canister on the counter, "I will call on you tomorrow." With that, he apparated with a pop. Hermione let out a sob. This was some screwed up nightmare. It had to have been. She was still in that dank cellar, imagining all this. They were going to kill her; they were supposed to do that for her.
o-o-o
Hermione had napped the whole morning away. She woke up looking at her ceiling. She sprang out of bed. She quickly pulled a change of scrubs and headed for her shower. She wasn't going to let Draco get the better of her. He had done her a favor. He had kept her alive. She was going to make the most of her second chance.
8