"The earth has music for those who listen." - William Shakespeare

Chapter Three: Not A Prisoner

As Draco continued north, he found himself fascinated by the sudden changes in the forest as they crossed over into the hidden magical forest. Everything around them came to life; small animals scurried around in trees and colorful plants swayed in a non-existent breeze. They'd taught him about some of these things at Hogwarts, but now he was seeing them up close.

"Wow," he murmured, lightly stroking a bright red shrub, which quivered in response - a blood bush. He ran through the potion properties in his head, ignoring Hermione's restlessness.

She was able to hear the sounds of the magical forest and feel the difference in the air, but she could not fully appreciate it without her eyesight. She put her arm out, hoping to feel something, only to have Malfoy snap it back into place at her side. "There are man-eating plants all around here, Granger," he said conspiratorially.

Hermione huffed and narrowed her eyes. He was so unnecessarily awful to her, captive or not.

Draco collected quite a few useful things, including panacea sap, which was a somewhat rare sap that was used in healing. Draco set her down roughly to give himself more freedom with his arms. He took a huge leaf off of a nearby tree and began to scrape at the sticky sap.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked blindly, turning her head.

"I found a panacea tree," he said shortly.

Panacea trees were beautiful and useful. She reached out her hands. "Is it here?" she asked breathlessly, her fingers brushing against rough bark.

"No," Draco said, cupping the sticky sap and making a makeshift bag out of the leaf. He put this in his pocket, hoping it wouldn't run, and turned to Hermione, who was feeling up the tree with the large leaves. He bent down to her and took her arms in his hands, and guided them over to the correct tree.

It was a strange moment, him helping her to feel, through her palms, the world around her. There was silence as she rubbed her fingers over the smooth trunk of the tree, imagining it to look something like a birch tree. She inhaled sharply as her fingers touched something cold and sticky - panacea sap. She brought her sticky hand to the scrape on her forehead.

Draco watched her movements. There was something strangely beautiful in the sudden grace she had developed; the slowness that had driven him mad earlier now looked like a slow dance. He realized that he was watching a blind person learn to use her hands as eyes; he was helping her to understand and see her surroundings.

"You are not a prisoner. With them, you would be. Know that," he said blankly, still watching her. He knew what being a prisoner felt like firsthand, having only escaped from imprisonment by the Death Eaters a short time before.

Hermione nodded, taking a small, soft leaf between her fingers gently. "Prisoners don't get to wash. Prisoners don't get to know where they are. Prisoners don't receive help with anything."

Draco looked away from her now, eying the trees around him.

Hermione ran with the moment. "Why are you doing this?"

Draco looked back at her. Her eyes were open, fixed on a higher point on the tree that she couldn't see; her hands had stopped moving.

His original plan had only been to capture her and keep her out of his enemies' hands; he hadn't thought of what he would do once he had her. He had definitely not expected her to be blind and weak, and had definitely not expected to carry her during most of their escape.

Now that she was with him, he did not know what to do. They would be nearing some villages soon; neither of them had eaten or drank more than water in the past few days. With the change of his original plan - a change in the form of her glassy black eyes - it was impossible for them to maintain a prisoner-captor relationship.

He was going to have to help her constantly. And if they were going to make it through this, they needed to work together.

Draco sighed and leaned against the tree, stretching his arms and cracking his back. "What makes you think I'm going to tell you?"

Hermione turned her head in his direction for a moment, and then turned back to feeling up the panacea tree in front of her, her hopeful expression dissolving into an irritated one. "Who are we running from?"

If he told her, maybe she would be less inclined to try to escape. But would she believe him? "Death Eaters. They want to capture you."

"Why?"

Draco rolled his eyes - she had killed his divulgatory mood. "So many reasons, Granger. You're smart, why don't you think of them." He pulled her up, thinking of ways that he could carry her without using as much energy. She could always piggy-back, but who knew if she decided to strangle him?

"I hate you," she said, letting him scoop her up.

"I know," he responded, smirking.

Harry Potter ran his hands through his hair. "Are you sure?"

Neville nodded, rubbing the bruise on his arm. "They checked the entire city. And... they found this, along with the body of the Death Eater Krokesh." He took out a piece of a broken wand, the tip frayed like an old paintbrush. It had vines crawling up the side in an intricate design carved into the wood... Hermione's wand.

They looked at each other, not even responding as Ron stormed into the room. He looked positively rabid, his hair sitting like a straw hat on his head and his eyes so bloodshot they blended into the color of his reddened skin.

He looked from Harry to Neville, and then at the half-wand in Neville's hand. The strangest look came over his face.

"NO!"

Harry shook his head and went to his friend. "We don't know anything yet. We think she got away. What was the last spell Krokesh's wand used?"

Neville shuffled his feet and looked away. "Noctulus."

Harry paled.

She had never been so afraid, so helpless. Her entire body was suddenly on fire as a spell hit her in the back; she gasped and gripped at the corner of a rough wall to throw herself behind it. The spell was literally eating her remaining energy and strength; she could feel it all draining away, her limbs growing heavy, her muscles relaxing involuntarily. How long had she been running through endless suburbs, dodging bright and angry hexes, and putting at least a mile between herself and her street?

She wished she had stayed in London with her friends, because if they were with her now, this would not be happening. She'd still have a wand, and she'd have her two best friends at her side, helping her defeat the evil that was five steps behind her now. Instead of going to Edinburgh to see the sights, muggle and magical, she should have been with old Order members, or at least not have scoffed at their offering of protection over her trip.

The dark wizards had managed to pick a perfect time to strike her, taking her wand with a quick Disarming Charm and smashing it under their feet.

She was surprised that they did not simply kill her - every spell they used could have been considered mild compared to what she knew they were capable of. If they were not looking to kill her, or at least seriously injure her rather than just slow her down, they were looking to capture her, and she would rather they kill her in the street than take her prisoner.

Let her body rot in the sewer. She would never risk selling out her friends.

She held onto this shred of courage as she panted, and the streetlamp next to her began to darken.

Having not found a suitable place to sleep, they'd had to make do with a large hallowed out tree and leaves, both of which were cold and damp. Hermione was shivering like mad, the sounds of the night seeming sharper against the wind.

"Malfoy?" she whispered.

"What?" he snapped, causing her to jump.

Hermione closed her eyes. "I didn't know where you were."

Draco scoffed. "What does that matter?" He adjusted on the wet leaves. "You should want to get away from me anyway."

His depressed, somber tone surprised her, but Hermione shook her head, shifting her weight to get more comfortable. She did want to get away from him, but something about being alone in absolute darkness really got to her. It didn't matter that she hated him - she didn't want to be alone again until she could handle it. "It matters."

He looked over at her for a second, and then back up at the sky. "Some people actually like to sleep, mudblood."

Her heart dropped at the word, effectively paralyzing her into silence for a few seconds. "I was just thinking that we should work together," she started again.

"Yeah, because a girl with no wand and no eyesight could be a big help," he responded shortly.

She narrowed her eyes, knowing that his sarcasm was hiding something. "I still have my brain. I could help us."

"Just be quiet and sleep, alright?"

Hermione exhaled, trying not to be disappointed. The more control she had over the situation, the more chances she would have to get out of it alive. He was right, of course - she was more of a burden without a wand and without vision. But when they put their minds together, they could find a place to run, find a place to stay until it was safe to be out in the open again.

Unfortunately, this could only work if they could stand to be around each other enough to formulate a better plan.

"If you really want to keep me from the Death Eaters, you should just take me to the Order."

"We are both enemies of the Dark Lord's followers, Granger. But only I am an enemy of both sides. I'm not turning myself in just to save you."

"Right, because you are too selfish for something like that."

"Turning myself in would be stupidity."

"Would you at least let me send an owl to Ron and Harry?"

Draco looked over at her incredulously. "And lead them over here? I don't think so."

Hermione piped down, defeated. How could he say she wasn't a prisoner when he wouldn't even listen to her? "I just want to let them know that I'm alive," she finally retorted.

"So what? So they don't storm the Death Eater's headquarters looking for you? As if they even knew where it was."

Her hands clenched into fists. What right did he have to make judgements like that? He had no idea how hard it was to get information about them, and to discern their plans out of almost nothing. "We're working on that."

He scoffed. "I know where it is. I escaped from there."

"Really?" A smirk crept into her irritated expression. "That's all you're good at then - escaping."

She gasped as something hard hit her in the leg.

"I'm not one of your little mates. I don't care if you're scared or if you want something. I'm on a mission, and that's all I care about. So if you don't want me to leave you here in the dark, you'd best shut your trap."

Hermione hugged her legs to her chest. Screw not being alone - she needed to get away from him; she needed support, not an idiot prat bent on making her life even more miserable than it needed to be. All he was showing her was that not even something like running from Voldemort's followers could unite them in a cause.

As soon as we reach a village, I am running from him.