bigger than us [dramione]

seven

WHEN HERMIONE WOKE, the pain in her arm had subsided considerably.

She pushed herself carefully into a seated position in her cot and rolled her shoulders slowly back, pleased to discover that her wounded arm completed the action well. She swung her legs over the side of the cot and stood up, feeling stable on her own two feet. When she looked over her shoulder, Hermione saw her silver-haired saviour seated at the table, a steaming mug in his hand. Malfoy raised the cup to his lips, blew softly on the hot drink, and swallowed a mouthful, his gaze trained on the tent entrance the entire time.

Hermione let out a soft sigh and strode over to the table, taking a seat across from him. Malfoy simply stared blankly over at her, unspeaking and unmoving momentarily until he pushed a second mug across the table to her.

"Thank you," Hermione managed to say, even offering a weak smile. It felt strange that she was sat there, across from her arch enemy who had just the previous night saved her life, despite being granted ample opportunity to run. "For last night, not the tea — well, the tea, as well." Hermione felt her cheeks tinge red as she rambled on and decided to silence herself by downing a mouthful of the hot drink. However, the moment it touched her lips she noticed the sour taste and pulled a disgusted expression. "Okay, perhaps not the tea."

"Strengthening potion," Malfoy mumbled in response, stormy eyes peeking over his mug to peer across at her.

"What?" She sipped from the cup again and, sure enough, the sour taste stinging her tongue was evidently the strengthening potion she had packed into her purse with a variety of other potions and medicines — it was also of a limited supply to her.

"It's got strengthening potion," he nodded to the mug in her hand.

Hermione frowned. "You went through my bag?" She wasn't sure how comfortable she felt with Malfoy sifting through her things, although she truthfully had nothing of importance in there. The platinum blonde simply nodded twice, watching her with an eerie expression as he sipped his tea. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that."

"You were bleeding out all over the tent floor," he responded mundanely, as though the prospect of her imminent death had no affect on him whatsoever. Though she remembered how shaken he had appeared the previous night — she thought back to the way he paled upon seeing her, the twitch of his muscles and the panic when she had screamed. Why the sudden change in attitude? She expected she should not be so surprised by it.

Alas, she swallowed and nodded in acknowledgement of this fact. "Right. Thanks," she managed. "I'm... sorry for what I said last night. I was angry."

Malfoy readily ignored her apology, simply placing his mug down on the table between them and lifting his chin upward at her. The gesture made Hermione uncomfortable, feeling as though she were under a flashlight, and she shifted in her seat just for something to do.

"How did it happen?" He asked lowly, almost angrily.

Hermione gulped down her tea. She knew that there was no use lying — Malfoy already knew that it hadn't been Snatchers — but she wasn't quite comfortable enough with telling him the truth. After all, only a select few even knew of Horcuxes' existence. "A rebounded spell," she admitted reluctantly.

"Hmm," Malfoy mused, nodding and narrowing his eyes. "Rebounded off this?"

He reached a lean hand into his pocket and slapped the locket down on the table between them. Hermione gasped in surprise and reflexively reached forward to snatch it from his grasp, but Malfoy was too fast — he drew it back instantly, tucking it into his pocket again and clicking his teeth. Hermione cursed herself inwardly; she knew she should have kept it around her neck.