Chapter 13

The white noise of the fire had eventually lulled Hermione into a fitful sleep. After their fight, Draco had wandered away out of sight, but Hermione could hear him thrashing about some twenty feet away from her. She thought she might have heard him stifling some sobs, too. Good, cry, you insufferable git. She had thought spitefully, holding back her own gritty tears. She didn't want to waste any of her tears over Draco Malfoy. For some reason, his outburst had made her think of a time when Harry had been under a lot of duress, and he had lashed out at her and Ron. She had sympathized, all those times, because he was her best friend, and she understood the concept of not being able to handle a surplus of stress, and not having healthy outlets. But she didn't want to be sympathetic to Draco. She wanted to just be content to hate him, and not see him as anything more than a two-dimensional high-society snob. He had been immensely cruel to her during their school years, malicious to the people she loved, and had been the one to sneak Death Eaters into Hogwarts, which directly caused the deaths of so many people who didn't deserve it. So why do I care about his feelings now? she had asked herself angrily. It was forcing her to consider Draco as a tangible human, with an actual soul. And she just didn't want to. But it called to mind the question: was she the one being immature? Was she the one being narrow minded? The stubborn part of her wanted to tell her 'No, of course not, he's the worst of the worst, fuck 'em.' But she knew that was wrong. He saved Luna. He saved me, too. He just lost his parents. He just lost everything he'd ever known in his life. He's a product of his up-bringing. Hermione suddenly felt a deep blossoming of shame in her chest. I'm the insufferable git. She reflected dolefully, letting a warm tear roll down her cheek. I am not doing a very good job at being better than people I hate.

She didn't dream that night. The fire went cold and dead, allowing the darkness to swoop in on her. She couldn't even tell if her eyes were open or closed when a hand wrapping around her mouth and clamping down tightly woke her up.

"Granger, keep quiet," Draco had whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck and sending goosebumps down her spine. "There is someone here." His voice sounded desperate, and it filled Hermione with fear.

As Hermione's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out Draco's figure, kneeling above her. She did hear footsteps, alarmingly close. She felt herself shake a little. She also felt a small electric thrill in her stomach at Draco holding her so close to himself, but didn't have the time to puzzle over why that should affect her.

A flashlight beam swept dangerously close over their heads. Even so, Hermione felt a surge of relief.

"They're using a flashlight. It's just a muggle," Hermione leaned up to whisper in Draco's ear.

"I still don't want to be seen here. We don't want to leave a trail," Draco breathed back, wrapping a hand around Hermione's shoulders, and pulling her closer to him, stowing them further into the tree's cover.

After a few tense moments, they listened to the footsteps getting farther and farther away. Hermione heard Draco sigh, and he loosened his grip on her quickly, as if he hadn't realize he had pulled her so close.

"Thank you," Hermione said, lamely.

"For what?" Draco challenged. Now that the danger was over, a hard edge had seeped into his voice.

"For everything. For rescuing me away from Grimmauld Place, and for fighting with us when the Death Eaters attacked," Hermione blurted out, feeling her face get hot. Well, this is a day I never thought I'd see, she thought to herself.

"Granger, what do you have going on with Weasley?" Draco asked abruptly, causing Hermione to recoil.

"What?" She asked stupidly, his question catching her off guard. I'm trying to apologize to him, and he asks about Ron?

"Just answer the bloody question." He commanded.

"We…that is to say, we're together. But he was captured by your...by the Death Eaters," Hermione answered, stopping herself before calling them 'Your Lot'.

"I had a feeling. Well, that's what I have going on with Astoria. I got so defensive of her, and that's what caused me to yell," Draco responded, taking a step back. "Although, she wasn't captured by a Death Eater, she was raised by one. Like I was. You don't know our stories; you don't know us. I was brought up in a home where you had to be this way. It's all I have ever known. My world was incredibly small, until it wasn't anymore." Draco reached out a rubbed at his eyes, looking far too old and weary for his 19 years.

Hermione was blown away. She supposed this was as close to an apology as Draco could give her, and she accepted that.

"I'm sorry I called you a coward. I'm sorry about everything I said. It's hard for me to be this close to you. You were a certain way for so long, and those things linger." Hermione responded, feeling awkward.

"Understandable," Draco answered, sighing deeply.

"Does…does Astoria know what's going on?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Yes and no. We aren't all as loyal as you seem to think. Going against them isn't just 'taking a stand'. For most of us, our families are in so deep, our lives are so entrenched, to deflect is to give up everything. Astoria would lose her parents, her sister, her grandparents. Regardless of how you view them, they love each other. I still love my father, despite it all. Just as my mother did. My mother loved her sister despite how horrible Bella was. It's complicated. Everyone around you has the same views as you. How would you feel completely going the opposite way?" Draco questioned her, his voice sounding forlorn and much older than his 19 years. Hermione didn't know how to respond. She would have never imagined herself in this predicament, could hardly wrap her head around it.

"It would be difficult," She finally answered, tasting the words as she said them. She had a different moral code than Draco did, but now was not the time to come off as condescending.

"Yes, it would be. I saw Weasely, once, by the way." Draco said, eyeing her reaction.

"You did? Where? How did he look?" Hermione's mind swirled with Images of Ron.

"He was brought through the Manor once, he wasn't...conscious. I only saw a flash of him. By that time, I was not privy to any Death Eater business at all, so I have no idea if he ever left the Manor, or why he was there. Granger, he didn't look good." Draco said bluntly.

"Merlin," She whispered. She knew he wouldn't be treated fairly. She knew he would be beaten, hurt, even tortured. It's what they had all signed up for. Still, it hurt to hear.

Draco said nothing, instead he took a seat on the ground. The air around them was lightening, and a thin pink line was spreading across the eastern sky. The sun was rising on another day, and it somehow seemed out of place. Hermione no longer existed in a world where one could sit and enjoy a beautiful sunrise. She existed in a world full of fear, and pain, and loss. And hope for change, A tiny voice popped up, as her eyes went to Draco.