"Granger. Granger, wake up."
Hermione's eyes fluttered open as she felt an abrupt shake.
"We fell asleep."
"Oh god. What time do you think it is?"
"It's still dark, so hopefully we only slept for an hour or so." Draco scratched his hair and pulled on his sleeves.
Hermione bit her lip as she felt tears begin to well. "We have to get out of here. Now."
"Agreed."
Draco offered her a hand, which Hermione looked curiously at for a moment, before grabbing it. He pulled her up easily, his face impassive.
"Thank you." She rubbed her eyes furiously.
"Ok." He breathed out sharply. "My blood wouldn't let us out, but we could try wandless magic."
Hermione looked up, "Of course. Why didn't I think of that before…?" Her voice trailed off.
"The bump on your head." Draco shrugged.
"We could use a concealment-breaking charm."
"That could work." He looked at her askance.
"Have you practiced this before?"
She heard his silence.
"Use this action, pretending you have a wand and repeat revelare ac confractus." She demonstrated with one hand steady and the other motioning a circle, as if undoing an imaginary knot in the air. "You'll feel your magic, you just have to imagine you're projecting it outwards."
"If you say so." Draco said haughtily, practicing the motion once.
They muttered the spell over and over. Hermione closed her eyes in concentration, sensing her magic bubble and falter at the surface of her skin, as if it couldn't break through. She glanced at Draco who seemed to feel the same. He moved like a dancer, with fluid movements that had a signature edge to them – graceful, but acerbic.
He sensed her eyes on him and looked up. He watched her chest rise and fall, tremoring with anxiety.
"It's not working." Draco admitted for them both.
"No." She whispered.
"Listen, Granger…"
"No. Don't say it."
"What? That we're not getting out of this?" His voice rose with anger, he wanted to shake her into reality.
"We just need to try something else-"
"We're out of ideas. We never had them to begin with and I can't see anyone coming to rescue us." He spat.
"They will." She set her mouth into a thin line, hot tears freshly streaking lines down the dirt on her cheeks. "We can try a different spell."
"Fuck's sake Granger, we can't. Whatever this place is it's trapping our magic too and you know it."
"Don't patronise me Malfoy."
"Then stop acting like you're stupid!" Draco shouted.
They locked eyes in a silent battle of wills. Hermione's hair seemed to expand with electricity and Draco's eyes popped with barely concealed fury. He closed them and reopened with a quieter expression.
"This is it Granger."
Hermione knew it then too and that was somehow more frightening than just thinking it himself. He felt his limbs go slightly numb as he realised, he wouldn't see his mother again – good, he thought – it was better that way.
"We won't be able to say goodbye." She looked up, almost questioning and he turned away, embarrassed at her emotion.
"Never thought I'd spend my last hours with you." He smirked drily.
"Me neither." Hermione sighed.
"I…" He started, unsure of exactly what he wanted to say, but she seemed to understand and smiled slightly.
She watched him rest his head on his arms, folded over his knees. He was afraid, she realised. Her legs started to move without her permission over to him.
Draco frowned as Hermione sat down.
"Ask me a question." She said, avoiding looking at his face as she settled inches away.
He hesitated, but really, he was beyond fighting. He fixed his attention on her, intent on escaping everything else.
"Do you have any regrets?"
"Some."
"I didn't think you'd say that." He replied honestly.
"I just regret being cautious – I wish I travelled more, seen more, you know?"
He nodded.
"So, how about you. Do you regret anything?"
She saw his jaw twitch.
"I regret not listening to my instincts."
He shifted to lie down next to her. They stared up into the darkness – the ceiling seemed to be moving down with every breath ready to suffocate them.
"Will they be able to kill him?" Draco asked.
"They have to."
"How?" He met her gaze.
She turned away and he could see she was wrestling with telling him the truth.
"He's made horcruxes and we've been searching for them to destroy them." She said it so quietly he almost didn't hear.
"Horcruxes."
"Objects that contain part of your soul. When you murder someone, you split your soul into pieces and he happens to have seven of those, or well, four now."
Draco whistled a long low sound. "So, it's no wonder he's pissed off."
"Hence our current predicament." She shuffled, growing frustrated. "I just - I knew we could die, but I thought it would be fighting, not like this" she threw a stone, "all helpless and sedentary."
"It doesn't suit you to be still." He agreed.
"Know what suits me, do you?"
"Of course. What kind of school bully would I be if I didn't observe your mannerisms?"
"How is it that I feel strangely complimented?"
"Merlin knows."
Draco had watched her for years, he realised, mainly out of contempt, but it meant that he still felt an odd sense of familiarity around her. He was comfortable, which was somewhat ironic.
"Malfoy."
"Mm?"
"Do you still hate me?"
He frowned. "No, I don't think so Granger."
She smiled in the darkness, "I don't hate you either."
To his surprise she shuffled closer to him, so the backs of their hands were touching. He resisted the urge to jerk back suddenly.
"Granger-"
"I'm sorry, you're right. This is stupid." She retracted, stung.
"No-" Draco's voice leapt without his permission. "What I mean is, it's- fuck, it's weird Granger, but it's ok." His voice petered out.
She crept back, lying on his side, placing her head in the crook of his elbow. He tentatively brought an arm around her, when she didn't freak out, he rested it across her shoulder, bringing her in closer.
"This is weird." Hermione mumbled into his chest. What she didn't admit to the darkness was how easily she was fit into his side, how his smell underneath the damp must of the cell was soothing her raging thoughts.
Draco was acutely aware of how fast his heart was beating. If she noticed, she didn't say. He felt her grow calmer as he moved his thumb in regular circles. The absurdity of it all – it was like a predator becalming prey. What was most bizarre was how inevitable it felt.
"I don't hate you Granger." He spoke softly, sure he meant it this time.
"I know."
She adjusted, moving closer with a new desperation. She was scared.
"I'm sorry." He whispered to the back of her head.
"For what?"
"Everything."