"Is it really a good idea to run away from war with the person you despise the most?"
A hotel, a boathouse, Narcissa Malfoy's safe-house and the worlds most powerful wand left behind by Regulus Black. What else could Hermione add to the list to make...
The sketch in Hermione's hand trembled beneath the light as she stared down at it. She couldn't help but chew the inside of her cheek as she inspected it, trying to decipher what it could mean.
Because for once-it wasn't a depiction of her death.
Instead it was a rose, a beautiful rose shaded to perfection, with large petals twisting together. The rose was conjoined to an anchor. The ropes holding the anchor were wrapping around the base of the rose, interlinking them. Merging them as one thing.
Hermione wasn't an idiot. She could assume what it meant.
Was this Draco's way of saying he didn't hate her as much as he did? Was this his way of telling her she had some sense of importance in his life?
Possibly. Or it could've just been nothing but a sketch. Nothing but a drawing with no meaning. Maybe it was just another way to confuse her, to riddle her in peacefulness just so he could tear her armistice to shreds when he pleased to.
And of course, beneath the writing was the familiar handing writing; Anchor and Rose.
Hermione smiled and folded the paper, placing it in her back pocket.
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Hermione woke to the sound of water trickling against rocks and the gentle patter of waves in the distance.
It took her a moment to open her eyes, feeling as though it was almost painful to do so. As if her eyelids were made from led, pulling at the seams of her skin painfully and making her hiss when she finally opened them all the way.
She was laying in a heap on the floor-but the floor wasn't floorboards or concrete. It was large plaits of crystal, jagged and rough, digging into her flesh uncomfortably. And they were bright, a luminous white colour. She had to blink repeatedly to get used to the light, before she finally dragged herself up from the cold crystals beneath her.
Where the fuck was she? This was not the safe house. This was not Hogwarts or even her family home in Hampstead. While squinting into the darkness, she suddenly realised that this was a cave.
A huge cave, in fact. With pointed rocks falling across the slanted ceiling. Around her was a bed of water, it was completely still, minus the small trickles brushing against the crystals she was standing on. Completely peaceful.
Then, she realised she wasn't alone.
There was two figure's on the other side of the crystal island, both hunched over something, cast beneath a dark shadow.
"Hello?" Hermione whispered, reaching for her wand in her pocket only to find it wasn't there.
The figures did not look up at her, nor did they flinch at her voice echoing throughout the cave.
