"Whose side are you on?"
Draco let the question hang in the abyss. Even the Scotsman held his tongue. Did he want Harry to win the war?
"I am loyal to the Dark Lord."
Hermione closed her eyes, "Why?" She breathed.
Draco scoffed in the darkness, "Why do you think?"
"You're on death row Malfoy. He took your mark. You're already dead to him."
"The Malfoy's have always been loyal to the Dark Lord."
"Bullshit." The Scotsman interrupted.
They ignored him.
Hermione continued, "Even if you have to sacrifice your own life in the process?"
"That's what loyalty is."
"What about loyalty to your own family? If you die the line ends with you."
Draco was silent for so long, Hermione questioned whether he was still there. She tried to imagine Harry and Ron's faces as they encountered Draco. Did Harry's eyes look the same as they had the last time she saw him. She wished she had access to her magic so she could dip into Draco's mind and watch the memory for herself, "Did they ask about me?"
"They were busy running for their lives."
"D-Did they say anything?"
"Now you mention it, we had a conversation about the weather, the size of Weaselbee's head and whether the Chudley Canons would win the season."
She could slap him.
Carly apparated into the prison so abruptly, the Scotsman yelped in surprise.
Hermione listened as she set plates of food on the floor and fumbled with the old candle to place it back in the holster. She struck a match, lighting the candle and relief flooded Hermione that she was able to see again.
She looked at Draco. He stood in the same corner of her cell she last saw him in. Leaning against the wall, his injured arm hanging limp at his side. He caught her gaze and offered a glare. She returned the sentiment. It seemed neither of them had the stomach to sit on the piss stained floor.
"Hey elf," The Scotsman called out, "Get me out of here."
Carly tried to ignore him as she self consciously picked up Hermione's bucket.
"Are you deaf?" His tone cut through Carly's nerves, "I'm talking to you."
"Leave her alone." Draco strode to the bars, filling the confined space with his presence.
"You think I'd take orders from you?"
Draco crouched down and reaching his good arm through the bars, took his own plate. The Scotsman started to walk towards the bars to take his own but quick as a flash, Draco reached his arm out again and snatched all three of the plates for himself.
"Give that back!" The Scotsman yelled, banging the bars, "What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm hungry." Was all Draco said.
Hermione wasted no time. She crossed the cell and took her plate before Draco could stop her.
"Give it back you git!" The Scotsman demanded.
"Speak kinder to the elf you piece of shit!"
"Oi bitch!" The Scotsman addressed Carly, face red with fury, "Get me another fucking plate!"
Carly trembled before him.
"Let him starve." Draco drawled.
Carly placed the bucket upright on the floor like she was handling a bomb. Draco took the bucket and Carly apparated out of the prison. Draco stepped back, smug, "You need to learn how to address your betters." He placed the bucket behind him, with a look of disgust. He wiped his hand on his trouser leg.
The Scotsman laughed incredulously, "Are you talking about yourself?"
"No." Draco stood up, "The elf."
Carly apparated back into the prison with three cups of water, the liquid shaking in her trembling hands, "Give them here!" The Scotsman told her, reaching through the bars and trying to grab all three cups. Carly tried to move out of his reach, but he grasped her bony arm, preventing her from getting away and tried to pry the water from her hands. Carly resisted, panicking and all three cups fell to the floor, water spilling everywhere, "You idiot!" He yelled at her.
"Let her go!" Draco shouted over him.
The Scotsman, his grip still on her arm, shook her violently. Carly screamed and then in his rage, he wrapped his hands around her throat, squeezing the life from her.
"Let go!" Draco hurried to the bars, and stuck his arms out, reaching for Carly. He grabbed the back of Carly's rags, "Let go! Let go!"
It was a game of tug of war. Hermione rose to her feet. Carly's face was turning blue, veins bulging on her cheeks, her eyes near popping out their sockets. The Scotsman refused to let go, Draco frantically pulled at her arm, becoming more desperate by the second. Hermione hurried to the bars, reaching as far as she could and tried her hardest to pry his fingers from around her throat. The Scotsman yelled in anger, Draco screamed at him and Hermione, failing to get him off, stepped back, reached into her jeans pocket and withdrew the empty glass vial. She had no time to think before she swiped it against the cell wall, the end of the vial smashing, glass flying everywhere and with the jagged edge, turned back to the Scotsman and stabbed the glass into the back of his hand.
He let go, taking the vial with him. He staggered back, clutching his wrist, blood spraying, gapping at the glass embedded in his hand. He screamed in pain.
Carly collapsed to the floor, Draco cushioning her head before her head hit the concrete. She spluttered, gasping deep lung fulls of air, her little hand over her pounding heart.
The Scotsman continued to scream and thrash, staring in horror at the vial and not knowing what to do about it. Hermione watched him. Taking in the sight of his pain and wondering how she felt about it. She couldn't just let him kill Carly. Not when the poor elf was innocent in all this. She realized then, that Draco was looking at her. She dropped her gaze to him. He looked so shocked, like he didn't recognize her. She couldn't tell if that was good or bad.
Hermione held his gaze for as long as she could. But the Scotsman wouldn't stop screaming and there was nowhere for her to hide. She wished the earth would open up and swallow her whole, just so she could have a second to herself. A moment to grieve and cry and mourn her childhood that had been so bitterly taken from her. Maybe the ground had already swallowed her whole, and this prison was hell. She dropped her gaze and looked around her cell. Her untouched plate of food was sitting in the corner.
Draco followed her gaze and Hermione strode right for it. Sitting down in the corner, careful to avoid any dark patches on the floor and silently ate her food before Draco had the chance to take it from her. She wanted to survive this. She needed to keep going. She ate the bread and cheese, trying not to gag at the smell of blood and as she was about to take the last mouthful, the Scotsman's cries now quieting, did she stop and take a deep breath.
Draco stayed with Carly until she was able to apparate and then he watched the Scotsman, not knowing what else to do with himself. Hermione eyed the two plates of food sitting in the middle of the cell, knowing she could sneak up behind Draco and eat as much as she could. But she didn't want to start a war with him. Not when he could over power her.
But the Scotsman's plate...
It's not like she would hand the food over to him after he nearly killed Carly and she stabbed him in the hand. But Draco would fight her for it once he realized. Hermione willed herself to stand, her heart still pounding and approached the two plates. She picked up the first plate and Draco turned around in time to see her separate half of the food onto his own plate and take the other half for herself.
Hermione went back to her corner and ate silently, thankful for the calories and nutrition she was so desperately needing. Draco witlessly ambled to his own plate, picked it up and went to the other corner. He didn't eat.
Eventually the Scotsman worked up the courage to pull the glass from his hand. It made a horrible squelching sound as he ripped it from his skin. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut at the noise. Draco didn't react.
He tore the sleeve from his shirt and wrapped it like a gauze round the open wound. Discarding the vial on the floor. Nobody spoke for a long time, yet Hermione was not phased by the silence. She took the opportunity to be still, and hibernate within herself. She didn't want to think or feel or move.
When anxiety rose within her like bile at the back of her throat, she imagined Harry's green eyes to comfort her. How long now until he rescued her? How much longer before she completely lost herself? Was stabbing someone the first stage? Who was she?
"Have you ever stabbed someone before?" Draco asked her out of the blue.
Hermione found her voice, "No."
"You get use to it." He told her.
"How many people have you stabbed?"
He thought for a moment, "A lot."
The Scotsman didn't speak again. Taking to nursing his wound in the shadows of his cell. Hermione fought it, but eventually she dosed off. Her body needing the rest. But the coldness of the prison crept into her bones. She rested her head against the wall, her eyes closed and arms wrapped around herself trying to conceal some semblance of heat. Regularly, she peered at Draco, to see him dosing off too. His shoulders chittering against the cold.
Just when Hermione felt like she was drifting into a deep sleep, the oak door scraped open, startling everyone awake. Cassius was there. He inspected her cell and made eye contact with her then Draco, before turning to the opposite cell.
"Is your spirit already broken?" Cassius asked, opening the bars as the Scotsman got to his feet. He kept his wounded hand behind his back, not wanting Cassius to see his weakness, "Come here." Cassius went to take his arm. The Scotsman waited until Cassius was close enough, then reeled his head back and smacks his forehead into his.
They struggled for a moment, but soon enough Cassius won and dragged him out of the cell, leaving the bars open.
Malfoy approached the bars, "Cassius, wait!"
"Fuck off Malfoy." He shut the oak door behind them, leaving them in darkness once again.
It was worse to be completely alone with him.
"Where did you find that vial?" Malfoy asked her.
"It was one of your bloody replenishing potions."
"You've had it all this time?"
She didn't respond.
"Why not kill me the second you had the chance?" Malfoy stood.
"I could have killed you," Hermione stood too, "But I realised, that we're technically on the same side."
"Are you delusional? Are you actually fucking delusional?"
"We're imprisoned by the same people! Whether you like it or not, we're in the same boat."
"I'm not Potter and I'm certainly not that fuck-wit Weasley! There is no us! We are not a team! I don't want anything to do with you!"
"You think I want you here? Do you really think, of all the people out there, I would have chosen you? You're the most egotistical arsehole I've ever know!"
"You," Draco shouted incredulously, "Think you're better than everyone! You think you're a fucking God! Always trying to outsmart everyone!"
"I am smarter than everyone!" Hermione told him.
"Not me."
She laughed, "That's debatable."
"Oh yeah?"
"If you have any bloody brain cells, you would be taking advantage of what you have and working with me to escape."
"I don't want to work with you!"
"You don't have a choice!" She could feel his body heat radiating off him. Of course the only source of warmth in this cell was from Draco bloody Malfoy. She was so cold, so very cold.
Hermione took a deliberate step back, "If you're so smart, why don't you think of a way out of this."
"You've been here longer than I have," She could sense his sneer, "Surely you've thought of something."
Hermione ground her teeth.
"No..." Draco teased, "The famous Hermione Granger doesn't have an elaborate plan?"
She wanted to cry. She wasn't that girl anymore, her mind was too starved, her body too exhausted, "That damn vial," She shouted louder than necessary, "Was my plan!"
She heard Draco's boots scuff away from her and towards the general direction of the opposite bars. He was quiet a moment, "We could get Carly to get it for us?"
"Cassius is her Master!"
"It's worth a try!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. Now that he had stepped away from her, the cold targeted her from every direction. She found the wall, pressing her back into the concrete. Arguing with him had nearly made her forget the darkness. Now, staring into the endless abyss, stress panged inside her chest. She had never felt so vulnerable, alone in the darkness with him. Her fear swallowed her. She couldn't let him see! She couldn't let him see!
The walls closed in and expand outward, crushing her inside the eternal darkness. The air stank of piss and sweat, yet her lungs seemed to clam up. She couldn't be weak in front of him. She had to calm herself down. She sunk to her knees, feeling the smooth floor beneath her fingers. Then she remembered it was stained by the Scotsman's urine...
She clobbered to her feet, somehow loosing the wall, and herself, then finding it again. She followed the concrete, searching for her corner.
"Are you dying?" Draco asked her.
She found her corner and pressed her back into it, covering her forehead with palm and shoving her hair out her face.
"Granger?"
Hermione shook her head, heart pounding. She couldn't break. But the tears were already streaming and the sob that broke from her was of its own volition.
She covered her mouth, but it was a loosing battle, she scanned the darkness, trying to see anything, anything at all, pressing her back harder into the wall, afraid she might tumble into the abyss and fall and fall and fall.
She would die in the dark. She would not be granted the decency of staring into her murderers face; Cassius when he eventually cast the killing curse, or Draco if he ever made good on his promise. She would have no funeral, no grave, as if she never existed at all.
"Granger, you need to calm down."
"Leave me alone!" But she needed more, she needed his voice, his rage, his warmth, "I don't want to die Malfoy. I don't want this to be the end," Life is not supposed to look like this, life is not supposed to feel like this, "And you... Aren't you sick of death? Why are you so content to die?"
"I don't want to die!"
"I want out of here! I want out of this hell-hole! Dammit Malfoy we could help each other- Save each other! We could both get out!"
"And then what? You go off to your merry band of fools and I get murderd by the Dark Lord? I can't go home Granger! I can't see me parents. There's nothing left for me!"
"You could go into hiding? You could leave the country? It's better than dying for no good reason!"
"I'm not a traitor and I won't act like one!"
"Regardless of what happened," Hermione took a more civil tone, "You're branded as a traitor. The Dark Lord wants you dead. If we help each other and escape, the Order could help you."
Malfoy was quiet, thinking.
After a while, she rose from her corner, finding the bucket and began unbuckling her jeans.
"Don't you dare-" Draco rose to his feet, his arm brushing hers as he hurried away.
Her urine hit the base of tin, the sound echoing, "Deal with it."
Draco made a noise of disgust. The buttons on his cloak clanging against the bars as he reached them.
Hermione pulled her pants and trousers back up, doing the zipper and buckling the belt.
"This cell is far too small." He complained to himself.
"Finally, something we can agree on." She went back to her corner, "They should really give us some toilet paper."
"Or a lid for that stupid bucket."
"Ask Carly, she likes you more."
"Yeah."
Hermione hesitated, "How come you care so much about her."
The oak door scraped open. Light, blessed light graced the prison, illuminating the decrepit space and giving it life, like the sun on the horizon. Draco retreated from the bars.
Cassius came before them. The Scotsman unnervingly absent. His hard gaze fell on Hermione. He wanted blood, "The Dark Lord wants more than fucking camp side memories Mudblood." He flung the bars open. How could the light be better when he came with it?
Hermione hesitated, "How come you care so much about her."
Cassius pushed off her, stood, then kicked her in the ribs.
She saw a wisp of movement, a figure, blonde hair the color of an angel and then Draco was on Cassius. Hermione watched Draco and Cassius fight. A mass of black cloaks, scuffing shoes, Draco grunted as he punched Cassius in the gut.
Hermione scrambled, saw an opening, her heart stopped, breath leaving her, she sprinted. Past Cassius, out the cell and through the oak door. She ran. She ran faster than her legs had ever carried her, lungs burning, body aching, staircase in sight, she was free, in that moment she was her old self again, she was alive-
A curse whacked her off her feet, she crashed to the floor, knees crunching, the spiral staircase out of reach.
Malfoy shouted behind her, she turned, looking. Cassius had his wand out, Malfoy was behind him, he had made it out. But his hands were up, surrendering. Cassius stunned him, Draco fell. And as Cassius turned to her, Hermione called on every ounce of her magic, "Avada Ke-"
Red light hit her.