T R A I N E D T O S I N | dramione

Thirty one

The relentless throbbing in her temple was what woke Hermione, not the sound of Draco's quick and angry breaths, nor the brutal gritting of his teeth that she was sure she could hear just from looking at him.

When he was finally satisfied she was conscious enough to listen, Draco spoke from a chair a few feet away from her.

"What the fuck, Granger. What the fuck."

The pain in her temple increased and Hermione had to force her hand to stay by her side. She stayed silent, mind straining to remember what got her here.

Draco's stern look began to shift in the silence. The corner of his mouth tugged upwards slightly and he pushed his tongue into his cheek, leaning back in the chair. Individual strands of his hair tumbled over his forehead as he ran a hand through it, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips.

He was laughing.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair that she only just realised she was strapped to.

Hermione frowned, eyes wandering. How could she not have realised she wasn't even in her room.

"Where are we?" she asked, throat croaky.
"It doesn't matter. What matters is that you're in shit. And that means I'm in shit." His smile was gone now.

He leaned forward in the seat, elbows against his knees and hands clasped together by his face.

"Why did you do it, Granger?" he said finally after at least a minute of evaluating her. "You've finally pushed it too far."

For a moment, Hermione didn't know what to say, mind blank and eyes empty and staring. And then his face morphed into the one she saw so many times on the Daily Prophet. Her jaw tensed.

"When were you going to tell me about all the innocent lives youve taken? Did it happen to just slip your mind or did you plan on letting the Daily Prophet inform me, save you the hassle?"

Draco's cheek hollowed from where he bit it on the inside. He didn't respond.

"Can you blame me? You are a murderer, Draco."
He scoffed. "And you're not?"
"Not like you! I don't kill innocent people. Defenceless, good people." She paused briefly. "People like me."

The muscles in Draco's jaw rippled as he stared at her.

"And how many have you killed?" she continued. "Hundreds? Thousands?"

"Enough." His voice was low and warning enough that Hermione shut her mouth. "Do you understand what you have done?"

"No one noticed. No one apart from you."
Draco raised a brow. "You're wrong, Granger." Draco stood, chair screeching on its way across the floor.

"My father saw you. Just before I knocked you out. Insisted we lock you up here." He turned back to her. "Well, until he decides what to do with you."

Hermione turned to gaze around the unfamiliar area. Her temple stung as she turned and she attempted to reach for it, only to find that her hands were bound behind the back of the chair.

"Draco, let me go."
"No."

Hermione let out a small laugh, shaking her head.
"Was this always your plan? All the time we have spent together," she bit her cheek. "The things we have done and shared, all while you were out killing my people in your spare time. Was it all just another one of your many ways to humiliate me? Have I not already betrayed enough people?"