Safe

Chapter 7: Alive

Talking about Lucius was out of the question. What had happened yesterday, Hermione did not want to repeat. She didn't want to hurt Draco that bad. Hurting him slightly by blurting out a dull-witted joke was... acceptable. She knew Draco's father was a sensitive subject for him, and after learning exactly why he wasn't a prejudiced prat, made her feel different. Was it sympathy she felt? When they were talking, he didn't even want to say "Mudblood." At the thought, Hermione subconsciously rubbed her left arm, where the word was carved into her flesh. He felt terrible every time he said the word to her, and Hermione almost wanted to embrace him.

She didn't know how Draco would act when they both woke from slumber. Hermione stared at the ceiling, thinking of how she'd behave. Apologizing was an idea. So was pissing him off by mentioning it... no, she wouldn't do that. What exactly would she apologize for? He was the one who went off crazy and screamed at her. Merlin, Hermione! It's not his fault! You're the one who mentioned his father!

Draco Malfoy was a difficult person. He'd wear a mask for years, and finally take it off for his enemy. Why show his vulnerable side to the one person who can use it against him? Hermione didn't think she'd ever get the answer. Since last Tuesday, when did Draco pick a fight with her? She was the one who started their heavy arguments, because she couldn't possibly think that he would ever do something for her. Like saving my life.

"Never again," he panted from the next bed. Hermione rolled onto her side and saw him sitting up with his hands on his head, breathing heavily. Draco was awake, and he didn't want something to ever happen a second time. She shook her head. Dreams could definitely be strange. So could Draco Malfoy.

"Good morning," Hermione said.

Draco jumped and arranged himself so he was sitting with his feet dangling off his bed, facing her. "Bloody hell, Granger. You scared me." She repeated her greeting, and he seemed to remember that's why he was frightened in the first place. "G'morning."

"What do we do today?" she asked, trying to divert yesterday's conversation as best she could.

"Don't die," he joked.

"We'll be in here all day. I highly doubt something bad will happen."

"You don't know that," Draco argued, and stood up to stretch. "Did you dream anything... unusual last night?"

"I don't usually remember my dreams," she said, and realized her hunch was right; he had awoken from a dream that he did not want to happen again. "Did you?"

"No," he said plainly. No explanation. No further words.

Hermione hesitated before she continued. "Draco, I'm sorry about yesterday. It was rude of me to bring up your family. You're right. I don't understand anything, and I shouldn't assume. I hope we can move on from that." She stuck her hand out, holding her breath.

Draco thrust his hand into hers, and he shook her hand firmly. "Curiosity isn't a sin, Granger. Just don't come across as rude."

"Since when have you gotten so philosophical?"

Draco shrugged, a smile pulling at his lips. "I dunno. Just something I've heard before."

"It's good advice," said Hermione.

He did not answer. His almost-there smile dropped and he yanked up his left sleeve, howling in pain. Hermione, on instinct, rushed to his side and held his left arm. The skull and serpent looked alive, getting gradually darker and seemed to burn further into Draco's skin. She didn't know what to do, obviously not being experienced with the pain the Dark Mark caused. She couldn't help but be hypnotized by the Mark, staring at it, feeling a sense of hopelessness. Was that how Draco felt every time he saw it burned into him?