Hermione's head was pounding.
She awoke but lay with her eyes closed, she felt like she was about to throw up. There was a distinct feeling of griminess all over her body.
Was she hungover? She didn't remember drinking anything. Besides - she had packed her, Harry and Ron's bag and she knew they had no alcohol. And no money to buy any, either.
With a groan, she lifted her head and cracked her eyes open. Then all of a sudden she jolted up, taking in her surroundings.
The unfamiliar room was dimly lit, but still distinctly not the cosy tent in which they all stayed. Where was she?!
Hermione found herself in a dark, dingy room with cracked tile flooring and peeling wallpaper. She could barely see anything as there was only one small crack of glass window illuminating the room faintly, and she could only make out silhouettes.
She could feel her heart in her throat and tried not to panic as she forced herself to look around the room.
There appeared to be an old dresser, a dirty mirror, and a small chair. She spotted a door and ran to it, yanking it open. To her dismay there was only a dark toilet with a sink and bathtub.
She reeled around in search of another way out, surely she must have entered from somewhere?
But no. This was it.
She began to hyperventilate, sliding down onto the floor as she started to cry. She couldn't remember anything. Her body felt sore and she had no idea how long she had been here, asleep. Hours? Days? She held her breath, forcing herself to calm down and think. What was the last thing she remembered?
She cast her mind back. She had been in the Forest of Dean with Ron and Harry. Ron had just found his way back, and they had discovered the Sword of Gryffindor and destroyed the locket.
She felt like there was something that came after, but she couldn't remember what it was.
How had she gotten here?
Where were Harry and Ron?
Were they safe?
Where was her wand?
She didn't know where she was or how she got here. She didn't know if Harry and Ron were ok or even alive. She didn't know who was keeping her here or what they wanted.
She was hopeless. She cried and cried on the dirty tile floor.
Eventually she slapped herself and shook her head, forcing herself to pull it together.
She would come up with a plan to escape. She wouldn't die here in this room.
Hermione forced herself up from the floor and blindly made her way to sit on the crooked double bed, deeming it marginally better than the floor.
Suddenly, as Hermione sat down, she felt a shift beside her.
Her breath caught as she let out a scream. There, lying in the bed beside her, was a figure shrouded in the darkness.
…..
Hermione screamed and jumped off the bed and looked around for anything she could use as a weapon. She found nothing, so instead backed into the corner of the room, hands balled into fists in the best defensive position she could manage.
The figure slowly sat up, and Hermione strained her eyes to see.
"What the fuck?" She felt like she had been electrocuted. A shiver was sent down her spine at the familiar drawl.
Sure enough, Draco Malfoy sat up slowly in bed, rubbing his eyes with his fists as he took in his surroundings, his blonde hair silvery in the dim light. So her captor was Malfoy.
Hermione didn't give him a chance to do much else. With a cry, she pounced on to the bed, grabbing his shirt as she pummelled him with as many punches as she could muster.
"YOU!" Hermione cried, as Draco tried to push her away with a terrified look on his face. "WHERE IS MY WAND? WHERE AM I?" She continued her relentless hits as he finally managed to gather strength and shove her away harshly.
There was an all out wrestle for a minute, before he had managed to grab her wrists and pin her down.
Malfoy looked at her wildly, as though not quite trusting his own eyes.
"Granger? What the fuck! Why would I know where your bloody wand is? And where the fuck is mine?" He growled, head turning around to take in their surroundings.
Hermione glared at him. The last time she had seen Malfoy, he had killed Professor Dumbledore. Since then she had no doubt he had been responsible for countless more vile acts with his death eater crew.
"Save it, Malfoy. Did your Master put you up to this? To torture me for information on Harry or the Order?" She spat at him.
He looked at her with hatred as she continued to struggle out of his grip, to no avail.
"Don't flatter yourself, mudblood. I have as much of an idea about where we are as you do." He glared at her for another moment before shoving her away, surveying the room as he tried to work out his surroundings.
Hermione didn't know what to believe. She stared at him defensively , scowling as he frantically checked the edges of the room for hidden doors or windows.
Eventually she saw the hard edge of panic start to settle in to him, as it had her a few moments before.
"Who brought you here, Granger?! And what sick individual would throw me in as part of this mess?" He slumped down on the rickety chair, shaking his head in disbelief.
Hermione continued to stare at him, feeling sick. She was trapped in a small room with a murderer. One whom she hadn't seen in 2 years and who had spent his life bullying her and her friends. And he seemed to have no idea why he was here, either.
She racked her brain. What possible circumstance would there be where anyone would want to capture both Hermione and Malfoy? They were on two opposite sides of the war - they should have no common enemies and nothing in common.
Malfoy then turned to glare at her, as if this was somehow her fault.
"You must know something, mudblood. The last thing I remember was drinking in my parlour, alone. So either my drink was poisoned, or you have something to do with this. Either way I swear it, if you try anything in here I will not hesitate to end another mudblood's life." He spat the words at her, dripping with threat.
Hermione stared at him incredulously. "Use your brain, Malfoy. Do you think I would subject myself to spending any time with you? Don't flatter yourself - I'm as confused as you are." She glared at him before continuing. "Clearly we are both being held captive for reasons unknown to either of us. It's just my bad luck that I'm stuck here with you, of all people."
His grimance back at her told her silently that the feeling was mutual.
….
Malfoy sat on the chair for hours, staring into the darkness.
Hermione was restless, surveying the room for cracks and any clue of where they could be. The room had brightened only marginally, so she assumed it was now day time.
Eventually she went into the bathroom for some privacy, she needed to get away from such close proximity to Malfoy, who had not uttered a word.
She looked into the cracked mirror above the sink and her eyes swam with tears. She could barely make out that her hair was wild, she seemed to have a bruise blooming on her cheek, she had purple bags under her eyes from a full year on the run. She looked sickly thin and pale. She was in no condition to fight anyone off wandless, she was so weak.
She heard a loud "CRACK" from outside, and her eyes widened with terror. She heard Mafloy give a frightened yelp. She debated hiding in the bathroom, but she needed to face whoever it was with her own eyes.
Hermione flung the door open as her eyes scanned the room quickly.
Still empty, apart from Malfoy.
She stared at him questioningly, and he jerked his head in the direction of the night stand, where two plates of unspecified food and a jug of water had appeared.
Her heart was still pounding. She made her way over to the plate and looked down, it appeared to be some sort of porridge.
"Why are they feeding us? Surely they are going to take us to whatever god forsaken place that they are soon, this can't be a long stay?" Malfoy groaned.
Hermione contemplated his question. She thought that the fact that whoever was holding them captive was indeed feeding them, very strongly indicated that they were to be kept alive here for longer than a few days. Otherwise why would they bother?
She almost wished her captor would just show up now and either hand her straight to Voldemort or just torture her here and now. It was the anxiety, the waiting and not knowing that was killing her.
She looked down at the gruesome food again. She was tempted to not eat it for fear it was laced with poison, but she needed to gain some strength back.
She gingerly picked up the plate and lifted the food to her mouth. As she thought, tasteless gruel. However, she was used to unsatisfactory meals, being on the run, and she swallowed it down. She picked up the pitcher of water and also began to glug it.
Malfoy was staring at her in disgust as she ate and drank. Although he must be thirsty, it was clear he had no plans to share a jug with a mudblood.
"If you don't eat or drink anything Malfoy, you'll die. Which wouldn't particularly bother me, however if I'm trapped here I would rather not have to deal with your dead body too." She looked at him harshly.
He just stared back, disgusted look still on his face.
"Suit yourself." She shot him another glare before draining more of the water.
Malfoy's face looked resigned and angry.
"I bet Potter and Weasel have everything to do with this. You lot are a bunch of idiots who have only survived so far in this war on dumb luck. No doubt they have made an idiotic mistake which we are both now having to pay the price for." Malfoy sneered, continuing "Did they finally get themselves caught? I can't imagine you would have been operating alone."
Hermione felt her eyebrows crease at the reminder that she, too, had no clue what had happened to Harry and Ron.
"Those idiots have evaded your Master for more than a year now. And I don't know if they have been caught, I can't remember a thing. And if I did, there is absolutely no way on this earth I would share anything with you, of all people." She replied, crossing her arms and sinking back on to the bed.
Draco rolled his eyes and muttered something about her being a stubborn bitch. She glared back, before resigning herself to sitting in silence and trying to organise her thoughts and remember why on earth she was here.
Her brain felt so, so foggy and her body was aching. Clearly, she had been attacked, since she had a bright purple bruise swelling on her cheek. Where was she before? The room was dusty and cold and her breath fogged in front of her.
She curled further into the scratchy sheets, and closed her eyes to concentrate.
….
When Hermione awoke, she almost hoped this had been a bad dream.
She reluctantly opened her eyes, to see that she was still, in fact, stuck in a room with Draco Malfoy, with no way to escape.
Malfoy was still sitting on the chair, and seemed to have fallen asleep at an awkward angle, his head thrown back and arms folded. A permanent scowl was etched into his face.
Hermione looked at him for a moment longer. It was strange seeing the boy she loathed so much in school again, he looked the same but different. He seemed to have grown several inches, and although he was thin he didn't look to be lanky. He had filled out a little more since school with what looked like muscle, but his cheekbones were still sharp and slightly sunken which indicated he wasn't eating enough. She recognised the gaunt looking face and purple dark circles, as she had them too. Clearly the war had taken its toll on the other side, too.
She almost felt bad as she noted how exhausted and sick he looked, but she stopped herself as she took in his rolled up sleeves, and the dark, ugly mark on his left arm.
Hermione stared at it, feeling like she was going to be sick.
Malfoy could summon Voldemort. All he had to do was press the mark on his arm.
She stared at it for a moment longer, panic rising in her throat. Before she had time to do anything, Mafloy stirred in his sleep, and opened his eyes to face her, as if he had felt her stare.
He followed her horrified gaze with a grimance to the dark mark on his arm. He frowned as he stared down at it, eyes cold and empty. Then he schooled his face once more into a cool mask of indifference, raising his eyebrows at Hermione as she continued to stare to and from Malfoy's
face to the dark mark.
"Surprised, Granger? Have you conveniently forgotten who exactly you're here with?" His eyes taunted her, reveling in her unease.
She met his gaze, a mixture of fear and disgust in her eyes. "You have the power to summon your master. We both know that. Yet, you haven't. Why?"
Malfoy's scowl faltered, a hint of surprise crossing his face. He recovered quickly, his expression hardening once more.
"Don't pretend to know everything. You have no concept of the potential consequences," he retorted, his voice laced with a touch of caution. He seemed on the verge of saying more, but thought better of it.
"Don't grow too comfortable, Granger. Consider how effortless it would be for me to bring him here. Potter's esteemed 'mudblood' - I'm certain he would relish the opportunity to torture information from you, don't expect the sweet release of death. And I'm sure I would be rewarded handsomely, for being the person who brought him to you."
His smile hardened cruelly, but for some reason Hermione didn't believe he truly meant his words - after all, surely if Malfoy was going to summon Voldemort here, he would have done it by now? Why would he stay here, stuck in a small room with Hermione when he could easily call for help?
Malfoy was scowling at her, as if he knew she was trying to work him out. After a few moments, he said, "You have a massive purple bruise on your face, by the way. Remind me to thank whoever gave it to you. Hopefully they will appear soon so I can give them a handshake."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You don't look much better, Malfoy. Why so gaunt-looking, surely the house elves are keeping you well fed at the manor?" She smiled at him sweetly.
"Rest assured, our house elves are well trained Granger. But I do need some rest - and not on this fucking rickety old chair. Now move off the bed so I can sleep."
Hermione would do no such thing. He wanted to eliminate every single muggleborn including her. The least she could do is to deny him some comfort. Besides, the room was freezing and the bed was the only semi-comfortable place to be, she would not give it up to him.
"Absolutely not. You can have that side of the room, and I'll have this side. Here -" She threw him a cushion from the bed "You can sleep on the floor or in the bath, I'm sure they are an improvement from the chair." She smirked at him, feeling daring.
He looked at her for a few moments before sighing and getting off the chair. He stormed over and shoved Hermione from where she sat all the way to the end of the bed. Hermione tried to shove back, but Malfoy had put on a fair bit of muscle and apparently strength since the last time she saw him in school, and it was like trying to push against a brick wall.
She ended up at the foot of the bed, dishevelled, as she stared at him incredulously. He sneered at her before grabbing the covers and pulling them over himself, before turning around to face away from her and try to sleep.
She stared at him in wordless anger, feeling a lot more helpless as she realised that without her wand, she only had her own strength to rely on, and she was a weakling at the best of times. She felt hot angry tears prick in her eyes and she stared at Mafloys sleeping body, taking up more than half the width and the full length of the bed.
Clearly he wasn't bothered that she would attempt to do anything to him in his sleep - after all, why would he be? She had no wand and in any physical competition between them he would surely win. Hermione had never felt so helpless. Not only was she captured here, she was with Draco Malfoy, with no idea who her captor is, and now she had no bed.
She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. She just wouldn't move. She was here first, and damn her if she let herself be bullied out of a bed by Malfoy. She snatched the edge of the moth-eaten sheet and pulled it over her as much as she could, before curling herself up at the bottom of the bed and closing her eyes. If Malfoy had a problem sharing the bed with a
muggle-born, he could move.
Her eyes closed, she focused on the sounds of the bedroom around them. She could hear Malfoy's deep breathing, the soft dripping of the bathroom tap, and the howling of strong wind coming from outside. The entire room creaked every now and again, as if the wind could blow it away.
She shuddered as she considered the possibilities of who had brought them here. It didn't seem a death eater's style, to dump them in a room while still feeding them and not taking her straight to Voldemort. Her mind wandered again to Harry and Ron, and she felt a pang in her chest as she considered the possibility that they were possibly suffering a worse fate than her, they could currently be being tortured or even..
She shook the thoughts out of her head. She would only drive herself crazy thinking about the worst possibilities. She needed to focus on the here and now, of finding some way to escape this god forsaken room. But her mind was beginning to feel foggy with exhaustion, with stress and worry. She allowed herself to float away, imagining that she would wake up tomorrow and she would be back in Hogwarts, this past year having been one long bad dream.