This Bitter Earth

by Ikorous

Control isn't the only thing Draco Malfoy has lost. But he will get it back. He will get everything bac

5. FIVE

Soundtrack- "Sell Your Soul" by Hollywood Undead and "Love and War" by Fleurie

A special thanks to Bree, mysweet_bree on twitter, for keeping me sane between updates and for loving me when I hate myself. She SAVED this chapter by jumping in as alpha/beta at the last moment when I was freaking out so feel free to say thank you to her as well for this one. It would not be here without her.

Content Warning- there is a section with the mention and attempt at cannibalism. If you don't want to read it, it starts with "Let's try this again." Please don't feel like you have to read anything you are not comfortable with or in the mood for. If you want to know what happens in that without having to read it, just message me and I will fill you in on any blanks or answer any questions you have about that. This goes for any section you as a reader may not want to read. You and your mental health and happiness come first.

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FIVE

.

It was a quiet night when Harry was on watch outside when Ron approached her.

"Hey."

Hermione closed her book and shifted on the trunk she was perched on and turned towards him. Ron looked uneasy and Hermione bit her lip nervously. She had done her best to spend more time with him lately. His arm was healing and they were able to apparate short distances now, which gave them more free time. Still, being stuck in the tent with both Harry and Ron sometimes felt just as stressful as trekking through the countryside trying to dodge Snatchers and Death Eaters.

They had not made any progress with the horcrux even after spending days trying out different spells, curses, and charms on the locket to try to destroy it, harm it, or even just open it. At one point Harry took a large stick to it, beating it into the fallen leaves. Much to their dismay, nothing worked.

So, Hermione went back to her research, scouring the books for a reference to anything that might remove the protective enchantments, but it was almost as if the magic of the horcrux itself strengthened the spells safeguarding it. Not an inch closer to any solution, she had been about to throw her book across the tent in frustration when Ron sat down next to her.

"I don't think Harry knows what he's doing."

For just a second relief flooded through her. It wasn't about her. It wasn't about Draco.

But it was about Harry. Things had been getting strained among the three of them, being cooped up together with little food, constant travel, and ever increasingly cold weather. Harry and Ron had always gotten on well, even with the stress of Quidditch play offs and end of year exams, but now they barely even spoke. When they did, it was because they both happened to be speaking to her at the same time.

Hermione spent any time not researching trying to keep the peace.

She shifted her legs to the side on the trunk. "Do any of us?"

Ron leaned his elbows on his knees. "I just mean… I thought we'd have gotten further by now."

Hermione looked down at her lap. It seemed the farther they ran, the more she felt stuck. "I know."

Ron sat back up. "It took us a month to plan the Ministry and that was fine because we actually did something. But it's been weeks. Months. You'd think we would have some sort of lead by now."

Harry had shot down every idea she and Ron had about other potential horcruxes. Not that it mattered. None of the books she had brought with her had given any clues on how to destroy the one they already had. And every time she felt like she started to get somewhere, the shining grey eyes would flash and her heart would beat painfully, pushing the messy thoughts further back with each pulse of blood to her brain.

She knew the only thing keeping Draco from making rude comments about Ron sitting beside her right now was the heavy locket around her neck. He was always there trying to distract her while she read or reorganized her beaded bag. She used to be able to ignore him fairly well, but... Draco was getting better. "I'm trying to figure it out, I really am-"

"No no no, I didn't mean it like that. It's not your fault, Hermione," Ron cut in. "This was all Harry's idea. Him and Dumbledore. This is their plan."

Hermione glanced at Ron. They were in this together, the three of them. It was tough, but they had gotten through everything else before. And Dumbledore had always been there for them too, for Harry most of all, that is until...

She took a deep breath, feeling the locket weigh heavily on her chest. No matter how long she wore it, the metal back never warmed. Though its coolness was not refreshing like Draco's touch had been. This felt like a block of ice sitting on her heart. "But we agreed to come with him. We knew what this was."

Ron's crystal blue eyes held hers. "Do you… regret it?"

Hermione's stomach flipped inside her. "Regret what?"

"All of this." Ron waved his hand around the tent. At first, the tent had been cozy and homey, but after weeks of use, it now felt cramped and cluttered. She did her best to straighten up, charming the beds to make themselves and scourgifying the kitchen when Ron tried to scrape together some semblance of food for them. In the end it didn't make much of a difference. It felt stuffy and the longer she spent in here, the more the pressure of their unaccomplished mission pressed on her.

"I… I wish we would have been more prepared. I wish we would have had more time and I- I'm disappointed that we haven't gotten farther. I've been through the books so many times I actually think I've started to memorize them."

"Surprised your boyfriend didn't tell you all his dark magic secrets," Ron said sullenly.

Hermione froze. Her heart stopped beating. Ron never talked about Draco. She never talked about Draco. She touched the locket around her neck, the thing keeping her from him. A symbol of the war that pushed them apart. Although Draco had done a bit of that himself too. He had spent months hiding the truth from her, keeping them from having something more. Keeping her as his sweet innocent kitten, his good little slut. His girl.

"He was never my boyfriend."

"He was your 'someone'."

"He wasn't even my-" Hermione paused and looked over at Ron, "friend. He was…"

Ron kept his eyes right on her. Even when she dropped her gaze and gripped the book in her lap to keep from picking at her fingers before lifting her eyes back up, he had not moved. "What? What was he?"

"A liar. He was a liar. And the reason we're stuck in this tent in the middle of nowhere. He let those Death Eaters in. He allowed Snape to kill Dumbledore. Allowed You-Know-Who to take over. Allowed people like me to be hunted and your family to be in danger. Bill would never have gotten attacked, George would never have lost an ear. You would never have gotten splinched and-"

Ron placed his hand on top of hers. It was a friendly, comforting gesture and lifted her spirits just a little. It was easy to forget in the midst of running and hiding that there was a reason for all this. For the war and the hardship it brought them. Putting everything else aside, her friendship with Harry and Ron was enough to make this misery worth it.

She wondered if Draco felt the same way about his choices.

Hermione gripped the book tighter as she felt the warmth from Ron's hand over hers.

"I don't know if we will ever find the rest of the horcruxes let alone be able to destroy them, that's Harry's whole issue," Ron said. "Mine is Malfoy. I am going to make him pay for what he's done. All of it. We're wasting our time out here when we should be fighting. What's Malfoy doing while we are wasting away out here? Bet you he's all cozy, posted up in his fancy Manor, eating a fat steak and has a girl warming in his bed for him. Probably chained her to it. He used to brag about that kind of stuff to his gross friends."

Hermione felt like Ron was testing her, waiting to see if she would jump to Draco's defense or not. In all honesty, she didn't want to talk about him. And she especially didn't want to hear what Draco used to tell his friends about girls he had been with. What did Ron think she had done? What did he think Draco had done to her? Had he ever talked about her?

Did Draco really have a girl chained to his bed?

Ron pulled his hand back from hers and ran it over his face. She needed to say something to help him. Hermione knew Ron was struggling. He was worried about his family while still healing from the splinching accident, and that was just on top of the running for their lives with little to no progress in weeks. She wished there was something she could say to make it all better, but there wasn't anything that could make this anything than what it was. Not now.

"We'll just have to try harder. We don't have a choice. We can't go back."

Ron glanced over at her and she thought she saw a little relief in his expression.

Hermione swallowed. "There's nothing back there for me anyways."

.

"Draco!"

Draco felt himself back in his body again, the solitude of sleep abandoned. There was someone rapping on his door, calling his name. And from the sound of it, they had been doing it for a while.

His head was pounding and his tongue felt three times its size, swollen with thirst. His arm was throbbing. The mark ached and the muscle was cramping all the way up sending spasms into his chest. Or maybe that was his heart beating just a little too hard.

He had been dreaming of Granger.

"Draco! Open this door!"

He groaned and sat up, leaning over the side of the bed and holding onto it for balance. There was still some fire whisky in the bottle on his nightstand. He considered reaching for it but could not stand to force it down even to temper the headache that battered against the inside of his skull. It shook the white walls and rattled the floorboards. He rubbed his eyes and the trapdoor jumped open. Draco stood up and kicked it back shut before she could try to climb out. He didn't have the fucking energy to deal with her right now.

Crookshanks gave a tired little meow as Draco walked past him, glowering, and tapped the door handle with his wand to unlock it.

"Good morning, Mother."

Narcissa was standing in front of him looking livid. Her pale blonde hair was pulled back tightly, making her sharp features stand out even more. Some of which he carried on his own face. Everyone always said he looked like his Father, that was until they saw him standing next to his Mother.

Her eyes were glacial; he hadn't seen her this mad since he had a tantrum in the conservatory as a boy and created a storm cloud that rained down so hard it tore the soft petals and tender leaves from her precious plants.

Draco closed one eye tightly, trying to limit the amount of light in his vision and leaned his arm against the door frame for support. He had a potion that would help with the hangover, but it did nothing against the after effects of the curse. Fire whisky hardly even helped with that.

His Mother blinked for a moment and Draco saw she was looking at his mark, black and twisting. The bruise around it had flared into a deep angry red which just about matched the dried blood on Draco's hand, hanging over his Mother's head. .

Draco shifted and pulled it back, crossing his arms over his wrinkled white undershirt shirt. He had taken to wearing it even to bed. Anything to avoid seeing the scars.

Narcissa gathered herself and spoke in a clipped voice. "There is blood on the stairs."

Draco dropped his brows over his eyes. "Have the elves clean it."

She pursed her lips tightly. "They already have, but you cannot leave smears of blood on our front stairs, Draco! What if someone had seen it? How would I possibly be able to explain a trail of blood through the foyer and down into the cellar?"

Draco ran his thumb across his jaw. It was rough and prickly. He needed to shave. He needed to shower. He had cleaned as much of the blood off as he could but it was caked under his blunt nails and dried into the creases of his knuckles. He had just been so tired when he came up from the cellar. It was all he could do to stumble into his room, pop open a bottle and drink until the images behind his eyes swayed and faded into nothing.

Into her. Lately it was hard to tell the difference.

"Honestly, Mother, I don't think many people would bother asking," Draco said tonelessly.

Narcissa huffed then narrowed her eyes into an icy glare. "If you get blood on my Persian carpet again-"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'll buy you a new one."

"It's 15th century! There are no new ones!"

Her high pitched voice was piercing into Draco's head and all he wanted to do was go drown himself in the shower. Wanted to scrub his skin until it was red and tender and fill his lungs with the steam and choke on it. Wanted to let the scalding water take away all the horrors of the other night.

Maybe after that he wouldn't dream of Granger being torn apart under him while he was powerless to stop it.

Draco pushed his hand through his hair, hoping it would help the headache ringing with the howls that had plagued his sleep. And the screams. The screams he had pulled from Fletcher until the short man had passed out and His arm still ached from holding his wand steady under the power of the Cruciatus curse. He was tired. He was so goddamn tired.

Maybe that's why Bellatrix liked to play with knives for long sessions. He would have to try that next time.

Draco sighed and dropped his arms to his sides. "I'll mind the rug, Mother."

.

"Stay still. Don't fucking move."

Hermione did as Draco told her, holding her breath as the man on the other side of her enchantment paused, waiting. Smelling the thin air between them.

Draco's eyes shone like sharpened steel and Hermione felt him pacing in the back of her head, his footsteps in line with her wildly beating heart.

"Still, Granger," Draco growled when Hermione's hands started to shake. "You've got to relax. Just listen to my voice. Don't be nervous." His voice was that same deep, commanding one he had always used with her and Hermione felt it sink deep into her.

He was right there, right there. If he caught her… Oh God, if he caught her-

She should have never come this close to the barrier alone. Hermione closed her eyes. She was in the dark cool recesses of her mind. With Draco.

His hands landed on her shoulders, running up to cup her face, pulling it close to his as he leaned down to her. "You're not alone. I'll never let you go."

Hermione opened her eyes. The man was moving on, talking to one of the others who were up ahead. Three of them. Carrying two others. Muggleborns.

Hermione expelled the air from her lungs and her breath hung in a hazy cloud in front of her face. It bounced back off of her wards and the cool mist brushed over her face.

"Good girl, Granger. You did so good, Sweetheart."

"Snatchers."

Harry walked up behind her and Hermione nearly flung herself at him. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her palms were damp despite the coldness of the November night. She suddenly wished Draco was here, not just in her head. Wished his hands were actually holding her face again and that she could lean into him, feeling the strength in his arms as they wrapped around her, pushing into her hair and down her back.

"I'd smack your ass for wandering so far from the tent," he snapped, but his grey eyes sparked and his mouth curled into a smirk.

"He could smell it," Hermione said, trying not to think about how Draco's hand had felt against her. "My perfume."

"Are you alright?" Harry reached out and squeezed her arm, gently guiding her away from the barrier of their protective enchantments.

"Yeah, yes," Hermione said breathlessly. And was surprised to find that even though she was still a little shaky, she actually was okay. Because Draco had been there.

"Always here, pet. You're the one who ran away."

Harry nodded while looking in the direction the Snatchers had headed off in. Then he turned back to her slowly. He rubbed her arm a little and gave her a sad smile that she didn't quite understand. He almost looked like he was about to say something but stopped before the words reached his lips. It wasn't the first time Harry had done something like this.

Sometimes Hermione wondered how much Harry was holding back for her and Ron's sakes. He had so much weighing on his shoulders. As much pressure Hermione was feeling to find out how to destroy the horcruxes, it must have been a dozen times worse for Harry; he was the one who had to face Lord Voldemort in the end.

And she doubted that he had a Ginny sitting around in his head to help him when he got lonely.

"Are you?" Hermione asked.

Harry pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Huh?"

"Are you alright?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Who cares about him?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"That's why I'm asking."

Harry blinked his green eyes, still bright even in the darkness. "Hermione, I honestly have no idea what you're on about."

"Salazar help me, I'm surrounded by Gryffindors."

Hermione ignored Draco as Harry went on. "Is there- something you wanted to talk about?"

He was looking directly into her eyes with concern, worry, and… sympathy. She wondered how scared she looked right now, how tired, how… utterly worn out. And Harry looked the same. There was a dark stubble over his jaw, his hair was messier than she had ever seen it, and his clothes had started to fit him loosely again. It reminded her a little of the boy she first met at Hogwarts who had broken glasses, wore shirts three times too big, and who was so pale that his lightning shaped scar stood out starkly on his forehead, setting him apart from their other classmates.

Harry had been one of the only people who didn't mind her at first. Ron certainly hadn't been, but Harry was always friendly with her, just happy to have a friend. And Hermione had been too. She had never fit in much with the kids at her schools before and spent her days flipping pages of books instead of playing with friends.

Harry had been just as awkward, if not more so, than she was. And it worked for them. They forged a friendship that deepened the first Halloween when he and Ron saved her from the troll and she saved them from McGonagall in return. A small mark against her perfect record was worth her first real friend. After that day, she had never looked back. Never. Harry and Ron were what she wanted, who she needed.

"Scarhead and Weaselbee could never give you what you need. Not like I can."

And they needed her. Needed her to be herself again, not this silently broken girl who had conversations with a Death Eater in her head. They needed her to figure out how to destroy the locket. They needed her to help hunt the horcruxes and plan how to retrieve them. They needed her to keep the peace between them so they didn't turn on each other.

Maybe Ron was more moody and Harry was strangely silent because she was moody, because she was silent. Because she was spending her free time wandering back into the dark, messy corner of her mind and letting Draco quiet her fears, her worries, her objections with rough kisses and grasping hands when she should have been researching, reading, and helping her friends.

Because they were more than her friends, they were her family. She could trust them, she could count on them. And it was high time they could start counting on her again. She would keep working at it, maybe cross reference a few books and see if anything clicked this time.

She knew it wouldn't. But she would do it for them.

"Hermione?"

"No, no…" Hermione shook her head and a tangle of curls fell down over her face. "Come on, let's head back in."

Harry stayed close to her as they made their way back over to the tent. The fire outside had long burned out, just a white pile of ash on the ground in front of the warm glow coming through the canvas. Hermione felt a little bit of relief as they neared. The tent wasn't a home, but… Harry and Ron were.

Even now, even though they were hungry and tired and cold and facing impossible odds, this was where she needed to be, where she wanted to be.

"Bullshit." Harry's face faded out of focus as Draco's eyes softened to a cloudy rain grey. No smirk, no spark of anger, instead Draco was… pouting. "You're a fucking bitch you know that? I loved you, Granger."

Her heart gave a large, painful thump in her chest.

"Thank you, Harry. For being there for me. And I'm here for you too." Hermione tried to push the image of Draco's face from her mind. She stopped for a moment and turned towards Harry. "Anywhere we need to go, wherever we have to look- I'm not leaving you."

Harry's lids fluttered a little and she saw him smile for the first time in… Goodness, she wasn't even sure. He dropped his gaze down and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses.

Hermione looked up at the clear night and bright stars overhead. There were no clouds in the cold sky and the clearing they had camped in gave a surprisingly wide view. By instinct, her brain started connecting the small white dots into patterns and shapes she had memorized years ago in Astronomy.

Draco.

The Draco constellation was overhead. The great fire serpent, rearing its head arching across the sky, as if it was trying to catch the other stars around it and take them back to its lair to guard like precious jewels.

"I'm not fucking leaving you either." He sounded upset, his voice a deep growl. "You're mine."

Hermione closed her eyes as an owl hooted loudly from a nearby tree. It seemed to be following them, appearing every few nights then disappearing only to come back, casting a shadow down over her in the midday sun. It never bothered them and never stayed too long. But it always came back.

Harry wrapped his arm around her with a small, comforting shake. "Thanks, Hermione. I mean it." She returned his smile reaching the bottom of the small hill encompassing the clearing they were camped in. "I know what you had to give up," Harry paused, watching his old sneakers kick through the dead leaves on the forest floor. "School. Your parents- for this. For me."

"Harry, I wanted to come with you," Hermione protested. "This fight is important to me too."

"I know, I know it is," he went on, keeping his eyes on the tent up ahead. "But I don't want to see you carted off by Snatchers and handed over to Umbridge. So as much as I like your perfume, just don't wear it again."

"Potter should start wearing the perfume," Draco grumbled from his crouched position behind the messy pile. "When was the last time he bathed?"

Hermione fought the smile on her face. Maybe it was the rush of adrenaline and then relief she felt afterwards, or maybe it was just getting to spend some time with Harry again, or maybe the fact that Draco had felt so close to her again, but her heart felt a little lighter as a golden ray came out of the open flap of the tent, followed by Ron.

He straightened quickly and his eyes darted between her and Harry. His brow dropped and he rubbed at his still sore shoulder.

"What were you two up to?" Ron asked, his tone the same short one he almost always had these days.

Hermione spied the locket resting on his chest.

"Nothing," Harry muttered and brushed past him into the tent, their shoulders briefly knocking. Harry looked back at Hermione and gave her another one of those small, sad smiles.

Ron blocked her path.

"Move, motherfucker."

"Where were you?"

Hermione rubbed her hands together, trying to create some friction between them to feel some warmth. She would grab her gloves from inside and then finish her turn on watch. Probably take a few books out with her too. "I thought I heard something and went out to check. There were Snatchers-"

Ron's eyes went wide.

"I'm okay!" Hermione started again quickly, holding up her hands in deference. "They couldn't get past the enchantments. They didn't even see me, Ronald."

Ron looked out at the dark woods behind her. "I'll go on watch. You don't need to be out there if there are Snatchers wandering about."

"Ron-"

"Just-" he pinched his lips in frustration. "Just do this for me, okay?"

For Ron. If it made Ron feel a little bit better, she'd acquiesce. "Oh alright, but only because I'm freezing. Here-" Hermione pulled the scarf from around her neck and reached up to place it over Ron's. "You'll need that."

His dark expression softened, freckles jumping a little as a small grin pulled at the sides of his mouth.

"Thanks, Hermione. That's sweet of you."

She played it off as she moved past him into the tent, careful to not bump into him like Harry had. After a moment she heard the flap fall closed and pulled off her shoes to see that Harry was already fast asleep in his bunk.

She would start her research again in the morning, once she got a little bit of sleep. It was no use clawing the inside of her brain for information when it was half frozen anyways.

Hermione cast a quick warming charm over Harry and then over herself before crawling under the blankets of the cot on the other side of the room and pulling them tightly up to her neck. She slipped one hand down to her thigh and rested it over Draco's bite mark. Her fingers were cold, but felt nice against the soreness of the bruise still lingering there.

"Burn the scarf, Granger."

Hermione rolled over to face the wall, refusing to engage with the shadowy figure, but knowing he would follow her into her dreams of the forest again tonight. Somewhere outside, the owl hooted loudly.

Hermione closed her eyes and saw the quicksilver gleam of Draco staring back at her right before his lip curled over his white teeth and he sneered, "Or I'll hang him with it."

.

"Oh fuck, yes-"

Draco's head was bent back into his pillow, his mouth open and eyes closed.

"Like that, yeah…"

Granger was sucking his balls while she jerked him off over her face. Her tongue moved over the rough skin softly, caressing it while her hand slid up and down over him, firm and tight, squeezing at the head and letting his brush against a few twisting curls.

"You like licking my balls?"

She nodded eagerly.

"You like having my cock over your pretty little face, whore?"

"Yes, sir."

Draco grabbed her hair on the back of her head, ignoring the softness of her thick curls, and ripped her head back from him. Her mouth was still open, pink tongue resting on her plump lower lip and her eyes tightened in pain as he twisted his hand, pulling harder.

"You don't fucking speak anymore. You had the chance to talk to me and ran off instead. But now you're my good little slut who only wants to use her mouth to please me, isn't that right, pet?"

Granger whimpered and nodded.

Draco loosened his grip a little. "Good girl. You may continue."

She dove back in, trying to make up for her transgression with enthusiasm and quickened her movements.

Draco groaned as his cock throbbed, his hand pumping over it indulgently.

"Oh fuck, Granger…"

She was letting small whines out. He allowed those. Everything else hurt too much. He couldn't bear to hear her say his name now. Not when it wasn't it breathy whisper in his ear or a helpless cry of pleasure. Not when it was just in his head.

"I love your mouth," he said weakly. "Your lips, your tongue. Oh shit, I love you. Fucking hell, I love you Granger."

Her whines lifted, turning higher with happiness.

He pulled her head back again. "And you love me."

Granger nodded, her eyes looked like burnt cinnamon and he grabbed his cock from her, stroking it a few times and watched as he came over her lips, her chin, her chest. She was his. All his. Always his.

And when he got her back, he'd show her that every single fucking way it could be shown.

Granger stuck her tongue out for him and Draco wiped himself off on it. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Back under the trap door, Sweetheart. I've got work to do."

.

"Let's try this again."

Fletcher's scraggly hair, matted to his head with sweat and blood, was resting against the wall he was chained to. His clothes were torn, buttons ripped off his shirt during the throes of agony from the last time Draco had descended down into the cellar.

"I told ya," Fletcher gasped, hairy chest rose and fell and the gold chain around his neck glinting in the dim light of the torches, "I don' know where Potter is!"

All he had gotten out of Fletcher so far had been what he was doing in the middle of a Welsh forest with an unregistered Mudblood. It seemed, ever the entrepreneur, Mundungus Fletcher was running a smuggling ring out of the country. That was until he spilled all of his contacts, locations, and names to Draco who had plans to sweep them up and hand them over as soon as he got what he really wanted out of this pathetic lump of a man.

"But you know where the other Order members are, don't you?"

Fletcher's mind was a disgusting place to infiltrate and as soon as Draco felt the magic of fidelius charms blurring out locations, he had shoved a vial of Veritaserum down Fletcher's throat. But the stupid little man had choked on it while Draco had questioned him. It seemed the charm protected the truth from being extracted magically. Which meant Draco had to take a more physical approach.

Sweat beaded on Fletcher's upper lip. "Why would I know 'bout Order members? No, no, you go' me awl wrong!"

Draco lurched forward. "I know you're part of the Order, so stop lying to me." Fletcher's fetid breath was coming out in short pants. His skin hung loosely from him and Draco was vaguely reminded of one of his old hounds with droopy ears and loose jowls. The hound hadn't made it past Bellatrix's training session. "You were there the night they moved Potter. Even if you did run," he snarled, "and only the Order was in on that."

He tried not to think about Granger in the sky that night. She didn't like flying and he hadn't been there to hold onto her as she rose into the sky.

"That… that was a favor to Dumble-"

Fletcher's head bounced off the wall behind him with an odd hollow sound. Draco flexed his hand open and closed, dispelling the energy trapped there from the blow. He didn't want to think about the old man. Or how his eyes had turned to a faded blue the second before he tipped over backwards. At least Dumbledore hadn't shrieked like the man in the woods. How many more people was he going to have to watch die?

"I know where that Order member is. Let's try for someone alive, hmm?"

Fletcher gave a small moan and his head fell forward, dropping a piece of tooth onto the floor.

Draco straightened his Malfoy ring, not a scratch on the polished silver.

"What are you hitting him for? Why don't you use your wand?" Fergus was leaning against one of the pillars, picking at his long nails with a short, sharp knife. Kenna was crouched beside him, looking directly up at Draco and running her tongue across her oddly small teeth.

He didn't want to tell the wolves how casting Cruciatus curse was affecting him these days. How even when he used it on someone else, he could feel it vibrating up his wand and into his arm. How he almost liked the burning tingle it left behind. How he had started to crave it.

Draco held out his hand "Give me that knife."

Fergus stuck the knife out, handle first, but it was too far for Draco to reach. He would have to go over there and get it. Clenching his jaw, Draco snapped his fingers and opened his palm flat.

Fergus shoved himself up from the pillar and walked it over, placing it heavily in Draco's hand with an annoyed expression.

Draco's lip curled over his teeth and he heard Kenna give a small laugh as Fergus made his way back over to the pillar, throwing himself against it again and crossing his arms over his brown leather jacket and dark chest. Even with the cooler weather these wolves never wore proper clothes.

Animals.

Fletcher started to spew off a stuttering strain of "Please's" and "Ya don' have ta do this".

"You're right," Draco said seriously. "I don't have to do this. If you tell me where the other Order members are hiding, I don't have to do any of this."

Fletcher looked up at him with his droopy eyes, bloodshot and sagging open.

Draco leaned down, putting his face close to Fletcher's. "You're the one doing this. You. Not me."

There was blood dripping out of Fletcher's mouth. Draco pulled the knife along Fletcher's stubble covered chin, ending the thick trail of blood connecting his lip and his chest.

"They- they're awl protected," Fletcher said, a bit of air whistling through his broken tooth. "I don' know where-"

Draco grabbed Fletcher's dirty hand and slid the small knife across the joint at the base of his smallest finger.

It popped off into Draco's hand.

Fletcher's face opened in a horrified shriek. Words failed him as his droopy eyes opened wider than Draco thought him possible of. Dark red liquid streamed down his hand and Draco let it drop back down as he held the loose digit up for inspection. Dirty, calloused, and leaking blood, Draco presented it to its former owner.

"I need names. Each name you give me is another piece of you I won't cut off."

Draco waited until Fletcher's wails quieted down into pathetic whimpers. He twirled the finger in front of Fletcher's pale, sweating face. "I'm waiting."

"I-" he gasped, heaving down breaths he couldn't keep. "I fookin' tol' ya! I don' KNOW-"

Draco tossed the finger over to Kenna who caught it with a quick hand. The Seeker in Draco was impressed. He wondered if her wolf could play fetch.

Fletcher's sagging eyes followed his finger and Kenna held it out, glancing up at Draco with confusion.

"Now, I cut that off with a knife, Fletcher. So it can be reattached. Healed up and good as new. But not if it's destroyed."

Fletcher's head swung towards Kenna who was looking at the finger with revulsion.

"NO! Not me pinkie finger!" Fletcher started screaming again. "Don't let 'er 'urt it!"

Draco smirked coldly and locked his eyes on Kenna's. "Eat it."

"What the fuck…" Fergus said under his breath and looked between Draco and Kenna.

Kenna looked down at the dirty finger and then back up to Draco. She looked appalled. "You want me to eat it?"

Draco kept his face stoic. He ignored the sick feeling deep inside him and the shouts of protest coming from underneath the floorboards in his mind. He pulled the white walls in closer, pushing the revulsion he felt out and trapping himself inside them.

"Please… please! I… I can' tell ya wha' I don' know!" Fletcher was begging, pleading. But Draco didn't want his cries. He wanted Granger.

"Now."

"No, I-" Kenna held it out in front of her. "I'm not going to eat-"

"Don't act like you're above it," Draco snapped. "I saw what you really are."

Fletcher was whimpering like his hounds used to. "Please…"

Hurt flashed across Kenna's face, but Draco's resolve did not waver. He pulled his walls in closer and placed his boots firmly on top of the floorboards Granger was beating against. He wished she'd shut up and just let him do this. It was for her. She should be fucking grateful.

And so should Kenna. Draco had made her rich; her fancy new fox fur coat was proof of that. And it wasn't like she'd never done it before. "You work for me. You do what I tell you to."

Kenna stared back at him. "I'm not a monster. But you are for suggesting that-"

"Imperio."

The walls in his head were so tight that there was nothing left but Draco and his wand and the awful, burning hole in his chest that Granger had left. He was just barely held together by soft scar tissue right now and he needed her back. He needed her to make this okay again. Because he had just cut off a man's finger and was about to make someone eat it and nothing about this was fucking okay because she wasn't fucking here and he was alone and scared and hurt and goddamn everything was cold without her.

He stepped outside of his walls, leaving Granger under the trapdoor, and into Kenna's head.

Kenna's mind felt different than Granger's. Granger had all these small passageways, tiny crevices where thoughts and ideas sparked and burrowed. It had been fascinating. He'd never seen anything like it before. She was beautiful. His magic, his curse, had travelled down into each little tunnel until he had touched it all.

But Kenna's was like… a field. Wide, open, hard to hold onto.

And then there was the wolf.

Fucking Salazar, he could feel her wolf. It didn't want him there. It was growling and bristling deep inside her, ready to lash out at him, protect its territory.

"No, no, no…" Fletcher cried. "Please… don' make 'er!"

"This is fucked up!" Fergus backed away from the pillar and from Kenna.

Draco pressed himself further into her mind, facing the wolf inside her.

"Last chance, Fletcher," he warned.

Fletcher was shaking his head, long locks of hair falling into his filthy fucking face, catching on the blood on his mouth.

Kenna growled back at Draco, but his curse held her in place. The wolf was snapping its jaws at him, threatening him to get out.

"Eat."

The wolf stilled, interested in the command.

Kenna lifted the finger to her mouth and opened it.

"Tonks!"

Draco's head snapped back to Fletcher. He was sobbing, whole body shaking with it. Draco looked him over and saw the front of his trousers were wet.

"Go on," Draco prompted.

Fletcher carefully lifted his eyes back up to meet Draco's. He could see the abject fear and terror in them and internally recoiled.

Granger. It was all for Granger. If he didn't do this, she could die. She would die. He wasn't about to let that happen.

"Halt."

The wolf wasn't happy, but it obeyed as his curse coiled around it like a collar.

Draco leaned in close. "Tell me."

Fletcher heaved in a shaking breath and closed his eyes. "Tonks and 'is wife. They got a safehouse. I… I know where."

"Drop it."

Kenna dropped the finger. The wolf growled unhappily.

"Sit. Stay." Kenna sat back down on the floor. Draco stretched himself over the open field of her mind. "Good girl."

He removed the curse and Kenna braced herself against the floor as she regained control over her own body. Fergus ran to her side, making sure she was okay and helped her back into an upright position.

Draco summoned the finger and held it up between him and Fletcher again. Fletcher looked relieved at least to see it intact. And something about that angered Draco. This pathetic excuse for a man had almost made him do something heinous, something horrendous. And for what? Just to give up in the end? Just to roll over?

Why had he spent hours down here torturing him? Why had he had to curse Kenna to almost eat human flesh when she wasn't in her wolf form? Why had Fletcher been willing to give up a safe house where Granger might be hiding to a fucking Death Eater?

He could have just signed her death warrant if it had been anyone else. He could have killed her.

"Please," Fletcher gasped, "please, me finger…"

Pale green light came out of Draco's wand and hit the stupid, fat finger. It withered and decayed into mottled, wrinkled flesh, the bones sticking out and the nail cleaving in two. Fletcher howled as he watched his own finger decompose in front of him.

Draco tossed it on the floor and it rolled somewhere into the darkness. He pushed these thoughts and feelings onto the other side of his walls. All of this would be worth it if Granger was hiding out at this safe house. Everything he had ever done would be worth it if he got her back.

Granger. Here. Safe. In his house.

Draco stuck his wand into the loose skin hanging from Fletcher's chin. "A safehouse, hmm? Tell me where it is."

.

"After this we have about… three days worth of food left." Hermione stuck the apples, bag of crisps, and box of biscuits into her beaded bag. They had stopped for lunch on their way to… well, to wherever they stopped again in a few more hours.

"Please, anywhere but another marsh. The smell, Granger… it was worse than Weaselbee and that's saying something."

Ron was resting, leaning against the side of a broken down mobile home with his eyes closed. They would have to start off again soon, but for now Hermione did not bother to rouse him. They could all use the rest. She knew her fitful nights were waking Ron and Harry, but she couldn't help it. Her dreams were becoming more frequent.

"I'll try going out again under the cloak and see what I can find."

"No, Harry," Hermione shook her head back and forth. "It's too risky. I'll go-"

"Steal the cloak and sneak off to me."

"It's the least I can do," she added.

Harry let out a small laugh. It wasn't his normal one, but it was the first one she had heard from him in over a week.

"Hermione, you already do so much."

"I feel like I hardly do anything." She paged through Tales of Beedle the Bard. She was sure that there was something in her that she was just missing. However, after the seventh time reading it, she still hadn't found anything useful and was starting to wonder why Dumbledore had left her something this…

"Useless?"

Hermione took a breath and looked over at Ron as he dozed in the shade.

Harry placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze in solidarity. "You've done enough."

She turned back to Harry, meeting his emerald green eyes. For a moment she saw something deep within them, but couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. Apprehension? Concern? Then Harry blinked and fiddled with the locket around his neck.

"Granger... Please tell me we are not going to be thinking about Potter all afternoon. He's so fucking boring. 'I'm sad because my parents are dead.' Great, it's not like you ever fucking knew them anyways. 'There's an evil man trying to kill me.' He's trying to kill everyone, you're not that special. 'My scar hurts.' Would you like another? I swear Granger, you have the stupidest fucking friends and I hung out with Crabbe and Goyle for six years."

"Why don't I take the locket for a little while?" Hermione offered. Harry turned sharply back towards her, surprised at her suggestion. They all hated wearing the locket and while one of them might offer to cover watch for another, they never took extra locket shifts. "I can at least do that for you."

She might not be able to find any new information on horcruxes or change her role in any of the events that led to Dumbledore's death, but this was something she could help Harry with at least. And she owed him so much for what she had done.

Draco glowered from behind the pile of messy thoughts.

"Are you sure?" Harry raised his brows.

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah. I could use the break."

"Granger, what are you doing?"

"Huh?"

Heat rushed into her face. "I mean you could use the break. Give it here, Harry."

"Stop."

Hermione held out her hand and Harry dropped the locket into it.

Draco's eyes flashed. "Don't you dare put that thing on."

She pulled her hair to the side to make it easier to slip over her head. Draco was driving her crazy. She didn't have a moment's peace from him anymore. He was always there, always watching. And while it sometimes helped the crack in her chest to hear his voice or see his smirk, it just made it hurt even more when she remembered that she couldn't have him like she wanted again.

Draco leaned against the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You know what? Go ahead, Granger. You'll miss me more than I'll miss you. You know it's true."

Hermione caught the last gleam of his quicksilver eyes before the locket fell on top of her heart and Draco was gone.

.

Draco dodged a curse. This fucking woman was destroying her own house. Shit, she was just as crazy as her sister. Draco grinded his teeth and sent one back.

When Calix had shown up, for the first time in fucking days, and Draco had sent him off to Donovan telling him there was job. When the wolf didn't respond, Draco wasn't about to wait around on him and lose his best lead to Granger so he enlisted a little bit of different help for tonight's mission.

Rowle was trying to wrestle a wand away from Ted Tonks, but seemed to be almost evenly matched by him. Both had the other's wrist in their hand, wands pointed in random directions and curses flying from them as they slammed into a wall, knocking a chair over as they struggled to gain control over the other.

Rookwood was thrown back when a curse from Andromeda hit him in the stomach, doubling him over and slamming him into a glass cabinet that teetered and fell on top of him. Draco didn't bother to check when he didn't get up, instead he took the advantage of Andromeda's slight distraction and sent a stunning spell straight at her.

She blocked it. Draco hesitated, only for a moment, as her eyes landed on his and he saw her face clearly for the first time that night. Heavy lids and full lips like Bellatrix, but the nose and the cheekbones… he knew those. He had those.

So it was easy for him to recognize the sharp gleam in her eyes right before the stream of light came at him. Draco pulled his wand up, deflecting it and it seared across the small cottage, hitting a picture of a happy family comprised of a dark blond man, a wavy haired woman, and a young girl with violently violet spikes sticking up from her head.

His family.

No, not his family. Andromeda Tonks was a Blood Traitor and gave up any right she had to call him family the day she ran off with a Mudblood.

He did not let himself be distracted by his own thoughts of Granger right now. That was different. She was different. She… she had to be. Why else was he doing all of this then? If she was just another Mudblood bitch why was he slaughtering his way across Britain to find her?

Why was he attacking his own blood to spare hers?

Ted let out a pained grunt and Andromeda's head turned a fraction of an inch.

Draco struck.

Andromeda cried out and it sounded like his Mother. A cold wave of reality hit him, slamming against his white walls and for a moment they shuttered.

Draco nearly fell over.

He really shouldn't try and duel when he'd been drinking, but, well… that wasn't really an option most days.

"Dromeda!" Ted let go of Rowle and tried to get to his wife, but the loss of the use of his eye hadn't slowed the large Death Eater and he grabbed Ted, hauling him back before sending a stunner straight into his temple.

"TED!" Andromeda was struggling on the floor.

"We need them to talk, Rowle!" Draco growled and sent Andromeda sprawling into the empty fireplace, ash billowing up around her.

He tried not to think about how much she looked like his Mother when it landed on her hair, turning it lighter.

"Get him up," Draco snarled at Rowle, staring straight into his dead eye as Rowle struggled with the dead weight of Ted Tonks.

Rowle kicked Ted's wand away and pushed him up against the wall to hold him up as a bright light struck him and Ted groaned as he was pulled from his unconscious state.

Andromeda had her wand back in her hand and Draco felt a burning sting on the side of his face. Hissing, he rounded on her, pulling a set of chains out of his robes and leveling his wand at her.

Andromeda glanced down at the chains swinging from Draco's hand and her eyes went wide.

"NO!" Ted shouted and began to struggle against Rowle again. "Get away from her!"

Draco was almost impressed by the Mudblood. He was giving Rowle a run for his money even without a wand.

Rowle shoved his wand into Tonks' throat, turning his head to look at him with his one good eye. "Give me a reason, Mudblood. Give me a goddamn reason and I'll paint your walls with your dirty blood."

That was all Draco needed, just one of them disarmed. If Andromeda loved her Mudblood enough to betray her family for him then she wasn't about to risk his life in an attempt to escape. With one at his mercy, he had them both. Love was funny that way.

Draco tilted his head slightly and bared his teeth at the woman his Mother once called sister. "You love your Mudblood?"

Andromeda glared at him, heavy lids tightening and Draco saw the shadow of Bellatrix on her face. He didn't like it. He didn't like being reminded who she was. He didn't like her.

"You want to save him?" Draco held up the chains and tossed them in front of her. "Drop your wand and put those on."

"Daddy couldn't be bothered to make an appearance so he sent you instead?" Andromeda snarled.

Draco didn't want to be compared to his Father. He was nothing like his Father; he wasn't sick or broken or useless. He wasn't going to let the people he loved get hurt because he was too weak to protect them.

"I take my orders from the Dark Lord. Which is exactly where you are going." Draco cut his chin through the air in the direction of Tonks. "And he will go to the Ministry like the rest of his kind."

A flicker of fear passed over her face and Draco felt a strange jolt inside him. What would he do if it was him on the floor and Granger being threatened? No. He couldn't think about that. He couldn't think about her when he was doing this.

"I SAID PUT THE FUCKING CHAINS ON!"

Andromeda glanced over at her husband and slowly reached out for them.

"Wand." Draco raised his brows. "Or Rowle gets to redecorate."

Ted pushed against Rowle, but Draco had chosen the large man for his size. That and the fact that he had been in Rowle's mind before so it would be easy to erase tonight's events from it.

Andromeda sneered at him as she tossed her wand over towards him. Draco nodded towards the chains and watched as Andromeda clamped them around her wrists with shaking hands.

"Now," Draco turned his voice smooth and calm. "You're going to answer some questions for me."

Andromeda stuck her chin out. She had a familiar, sharp jaw. "Fuck you, Malfoy."

"You should learn some patience. I was going to say you're going to answer some questions for me and if you answer them correctly, I might consider leaving you and your Mudblood here to rot."

Rowle pressed his arm into Ted's chest and Andromeda tried to stand, but Draco trained his wand on her again. "Ah ah ah! Be good or he will pay the price."

Andromeda glared up at him and pressed her lips together, sitting her chained hands in her lap.

Draco glanced around the small cottage. It was plain, neat, and ugly. He hated it here. "So this is a safehouse for the Order, huh?" He kicked at a broken cup on the floor. "Is this really the best they could do?"

"What do you want from us?" Ted shouted from pinned on the wall. Rowle pressed harder into him as Ted shuffled, trying to shift his feet.

"I want to know where Potter is."

Andromeda gave a cold laugh. "Really? That's it? You did all this for one boy?"

Girl. He did all this for one girl. His girl.

"Hand him over to me and I'll leave. Call the Order, tell them… whatever you need to in order to get him here and I'll make sure that you are rewarded for your… compliance."

"We aren't part of the Order!" Andromeda protested.

"No, but your daughter is, isn't she?" Draco nodded to the broken picture frame on the floor. The purple haired girl was waving while Andromeda beamed behind her and Ted wrapped his arm around them both. "I can go after her next."

"If you touch Dora I will kill you." Draco was surprised by the darkness in Ted's tone. He hadn't expected that. Maybe there was more to this Mudblood than met the eye.

No. He was nothing. An abomination born from carelessness and ill-breeding. The world would be better without them. He wouldn't be in this position if they didn't exist. He wouldn't be a Death Eater if Mudbloods were polluting the world around him.

He wouldn't feel like something had seared a hole into his chest and scorched his soul. He wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night, panicked and sweaty, wondering if she was okay and downing the whisky beside his bed just to get back asleep. He wouldn't be pressing his wand into his arm and cursing it until he lost his ability to do magic.

He wouldn't be kidnapping and torturing people, watching them be eaten alive, mutilating them all to find a girl that didn't even fucking want him anymore.

"I don't want someone like you to love me."

Granger had been right. How could anyone want someone like him? Someone scarred up and fucked up- and all for someone he was supposed to hate.

If the Dark Lord found out his whole family would be murdered. He was putting them all at risk for this. For her.

And she didn't even love him anymore.

Because if she did, she'd be here. He loved her, after all, and look what he was willing to do for her! Look what he had fucking let himself become just to get back to her.

And she hadn't done a goddamn thing other than run and hide from him.

He should leave her to die.

He should do it himself.

Draco turned to Ted. "She's not the one I'm after, but I'll kill anyone who stands in my way. And that includes your Blood Traitor wife. So tell me- Where. Is. Potter."

"We don't know!" Andromeda yelled, the chains around her wrist rattling a little. "We don't know where he is. We don't know anything about the Order. They stopped using our house after the Ministry fell."

"Andromeda-" Ted warned, but she ignored him.

"We offered our house as a safehouse, but they are all in hiding now. We haven't seen anyone in weeks."

This was not what Draco wanted to hear. Pulsing anger rose up, tightening the tendons in his neck, pushing blood through his ears and making him break out in a cold sweat. Not another dead end. It couldn't be. He needed to find her. He needed to get her back before… before it was too late. For either of them.

Draco's arm trembled. He had cursed it earlier today and the feeling had only come back right before he headed here. The numbness was lasting longer with each curse. Still, he couldn't stop. Didn't want to stop. Had to do it. Had to have her.

Hermione.

"Andromeda, don't tell them anything!" Ted shouted, fighting against Rowle again. Rowle's wand sparked and Ted's head was flung to the side as if punched.

"TEDDY!" Andromeda lunged forward, falling on her chained hands.

"Stay where you are! Don't fucking move!" Draco pointed his wand at her, his arm shaking heavily now. He was tired. So tired. So… empty.

Draco pulled the white walls in closer, wishing he could push Granger outside of them. Normally she was banging on the floorboards, trying to get out, but now… now she was silent.

"You said the other Order members were in hiding. Where? WHERE?!"

"We don't know! We aren't part of the Order, we don't know anything!"

Draco sneered down at Andromeda. "You don't even know where your daughter is?"

A blank stare met him. If he didn't know already, that enough would be proof that they were related. He knew that emotionless face like his was his own. And parts of it were. They knew where one Order member was. He still had a lead. He hadn't lost her yet.

"TELL ME! TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!"

Andromeda remained silent, staring up at him with reticent eyes.

"FUCKING TELL ME WHERE!"

Ted was fighting harder now and Rowle was wrestling with him to keep him still.

Draco pointed his dark wand at his aunt. "TELL ME WHERE SHE IS! TELL ME, YOU BITCH! TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK GRANGER IS!"

Andromeda blinked. Ted stopped moving. Rowle looked over his shoulder.

Fuck. He always slipped up when he was drunk.

Draco was breathing heavily, cold acid eating that hole Granger had left. Eating at the floorboards. Eating at the walls. Everything felt like poison. He hated it. He hated her. He hated himself. The heat of the whisky burned in him, but did nothing to warm the freezing inside.

He didn't even have to say the word, he just had to give into the agony inside him and the curse jumped out of his wand, streaking towards Andromeda who fell back, twisting on the floor with a blood curdling scream.

Ted was thrashing hard enough that Rowle was losing his hold on him. "Stop it! Stop! Andromeda! Do it to me! To me, not her!"

Draco sucked in a breath of air and the curse died. Andromeda lay on the ground, the chains having bitten into her wrists turning them a nasty shade of dark red.

"You son of a bitch," Ted strained against Rowle's large frame. "You break into our home just to torture us when we won't sell our daughter out?! You're evil."

Draco's head snapped in Ted's direction. His family had sold him to the Dark Lord. Bellatrix had suggested it, his Mother had sat there in silence. And even after he freed his Father from prison and their Master was about to kill one of them, his Father had chosen his own life over Draco's.

If the roles were switched, would his parents sell him out?

Would Granger?

He looked back at Andromeda who was pulling herself back up and saw the same livid loathing in her eyes that he was greeted with every morning in the mirror. Were they that different? Both Purebloods who fell in love with a Muggleborn. Only she had left to be with hers. And he couldn't even find his.

Fuck Granger. She was turning him into this. Turning him dark, turning him evil.

"Dromeda, baby, are you okay?" Ted pushed against Rowle again. Andromeda nodded and tried to stop her shaking limbs to keep the chains from clanking.

Why wasn't Granger here to ask if he was okay? Why hadn't she waited? Why had he fucked everything up so bad that she was running for her life and he was chaining people and torturing them? Doing unspeakable things? Evil things?

Andromeda pushed herself back up and nodded softly looking up at her husband like… like how Granger used to look at him.

He wanted out of here. He didn't want to spend a minute in this ugly little cottage longer than he had to. It was too hard to be here, to see a Pureblood and Muggleborn together, happy, having a life and a family when he would never have that. He wanted to kill them both and leave their bodies to rot where their precious fucking daughter who they didn't sell out to fucking save themselves would find.

Draco sliced his wand through the air and Rowle fell to the ground.

Ted stumbled forward, almost tripping over the large man sprawled at his feet. Draco waved his wand again and the chains fell off, pooling in front of Andromeda. Her wrists were badly hurt. Draco looked away, kicking her wand back to her.

Ted was at his wife's side in a second, running his hands over her face, her arms, pulling her against him. Draco turned his wand on Rowle, invading his unconscious mind and modifying his memory.

"Go," Draco said in a dead voice.

Andromeda looked up at him, eyes wide with shock.

"It's not safe for you here anymore. Two werewolves heard where your house was too so your Fidelius charm is void. They will sell you out or come for you themselves. You can't stay here. You have to go." Draco looked at the ruined cottage, glass strewn and broken furniture all around. "I would suggest you get out of here before they wake up." He jerked his head to where Rowle was splayed on the ground and Rookwood still lay under the broken cabinet.

Ted glared at him, eyes dark with anger, but Andromeda's brows pulled slightly as if she was trying to peer behind his impassive expression. "Why are you letting us go?"

Draco lowered his wand. They could curse him if they wanted. Turn him over to the Order and let them torture him for a change. Maybe he'd get to see Granger one more time before they killed him.

Draco turned his back on them and walked to the door. Nothing felt real. He couldn't even feel the ground under his feet. His spine was crumbling inside him, leaving nothing to hold him up anymore. There was no heart in his chest, no breath in his lungs. It was gone. All gone.

And he wasn't sure he wanted it back.

"I don't want to do this anymore."

.

Hermione was running again. She was always running. The dark trees whipped past her, leaves crunching under her feet as she pressed on. There was no need to try to be quiet, he had been chasing her for quite some time now. She didn't know how far she had run or where Harry or Ron was, all she knew was that she couldn't stop.

If she stopped he would catch her. And if he caught her…

An owl shrieked in one of the high trees and Hermione pressed on, chest heaving with each strained breath.

She could hear him behind her, crashing through the underbrush. Her Death Eater. He had followed her. Followed her from the black tiled halls of the Department of Mysteries to this awful cursed forest she seemed never to find her way out of. No matter how far she ran. No matter how fast.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder and saw the gleam of his metal mask. Every other inch of him was covered in black robes, black breeches, black hood, black gloves. Nothing but the shards of his silver eyes gave any indication as to who it was. Who else would it be other than the one person who haunted her, day and night?

Draco would never let her find peace, never let her get rest. Why couldn't he even give her one night where he wasn't chasing her? One day where he wasn't sitting in the back of her mind? But what was even worse was when she wore the locket and had a few hours of silence where she wrestled with her loneliness and pined for him. Waiting patiently for Ron to take it off her neck so Draco would come back. Because the only thing worse than having Draco live in her head, was living her life without him.

Hermione stumbled and her hands brushed the ground, but she picked herself up and tore on. She was gasping in cold air that burned her lungs and gave no relief to the aching muscles that protested her unyielding usage of them. How long had she been running? She could feel herself slowing, fatigue catching up to her. And he was too.

He did not slow. He did not weary. He just continued on, always after her, always chasing. Hunting.

Draco was hunting her.

No matter what woods she was in, no matter how far she ran, where she hid, or what she did, he was always just behind her, always coming for her.

And Hermione remembered what happened to Draco's last prey.

She could hear something up ahead. Someone. In all her dreams she had never gotten this far. Someone was calling her name. Telling her to hurry, urging her on. Just a little more and she'd be safe with them.

It gave Hermione just enough energy to push herself up the leaf strew hill. "Up! Get Up!" the person at the top of the hill called, and Hermioned tried to climb, but slipped a little on the thick leaves. The ascent had slowed her and Hermione screamed as a leather gloved hand yanked her backwards.

She had been so close. The Death Eater held her back to him by her hair, wrapping his other long arm around her middle and picking her up. Hermione kicked her legs out, thrashing, fighting. He moved his hand from her hair to her face, covering her mouth to muffle her screams. Already out of breath, Hermione felt exhaustion drape over her at the loss of oxygen.

The Death Eater held on with a bruising strength. His cold, metal mask pressed into her cheek and she could smell the mint on his breath.

"Stop fucking fighting me," he growled and she felt him heave her backwards in a hauntingly familiar fashion. "You'll only make this worse."

Steaming cold panic poured through her and Hermione bucked against him harder, trying to wriggle her way out of his arms. She had done this before, they had done this before. Everything about it was the same, but different. The Death Eater shoved her behind a tree, pressing her hard against it and holding her there with his body.

His hand was still around her mouth and she took small breaths through her nose, trying to fill her chest. Hermione pressed her hands up against him, where was her wand? She saw her school bag lying on the leaves near them with the light vinewood wand poking out of it. What was that doing here?

"Granger, calm the fuck down."

It was the first time he had caught her. The first time she hadn't been able to outrun him. How hard had she really been trying? She knew she wouldn't be able to make it up that hill, but still, she had tried. Was it because of who was waiting at the top? She could still hear him shouting her name.

"Hermione? Hermione… up!"

He was still on the hill. He hadn't come down to look for her. But Draco had.

His eyes were shining behind his mask, playful and bright. Godric, she had missed them. She had only given the locket over right before bed and had spent almost the whole day without Draco. But he was here, he had come. Just like he promised.

"Can I let you go or do I need to hold you down?"

His grip loosened and she felt his gloved hands slide over her, gripping her arms and almost shaking her.

"Wake up."

Hermione looked up at him and felt the cool breath and the crisp mint smell wave over her lips.

"Wake up, Hermione."

It didn't sound like him, but it had to be. He was here, his hands on her, his eyes boring down into her, deep enough to see her soul…

"Don't let me go," she murmured, softly, barely speaking.

The mask was gone and it was just Draco, her marble statue of a man, grinning down at her like he had been waiting to hear her say it.

Hermione pushed herself closer to him, her lips parted, ready to greet his mouth with eager enthusiasm and show him just how much she had missed him.

Right before they touched Hermione breathed out his name, "Draco…"

Hermione was shoved down hard against the cot. Her eyes flew open and the dim light of the tent was almost blinding compared to the dark woods. Ron was standing over her, pale and livid, a toothbrush gripped tightly in his red fist.

Hermione looked up from it to his face, utter disgust and revulsion painted so clearly on it. The same way he had looked at her after seeing her with-

Hermione felt her chest cleave in two. Draco wasn't here, but Ron was. And now he knew, he knew, what she dreamed of. All the times he asked if she was okay in the mornings because she had been tossing and turning and Hermione brushed it off, now Ron knew she had been dreaming of him. Of Draco.

Ron shook his head, copper hair glinting in the yellow light. All Hermione could do was stare at him as he glared at her, blue eyes cold with betrayal.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Hermione?!"

.

A/N: I just want to say a huge awesome thank you to everyone reading. I love seeing your reviews and get so excited every time I get a new notification for a favorite or follow. I love you all dear readers and hope you stick with Bitter as it updates!