☾ Chapter 15

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"What the fuck is that?"

Hermione had fallen back asleep after waking at sunrise, wrapped in his blanket when Ginny shouted at her across the room.

The sky was no longer melting in shades of mandarin and fuchsia; the sun had taken it's place high in the atmosphere, a soft layer of snow covering the grounds where she and him had walked that very early morning.

"Hermione, I asked you a question."

She groaned, stretching her limbs, mumbling a 'what' into the black knit warmth.

"Where did you get that from?"

"Get what?" Hermione asked, shifting on her mattress towards the girl. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw her; Ginny was fuming.

"Don't act so fucking clueless," she roared, Parvati, Neville and Fred watching in slight shock, "That blanket, Hermione. Why the fuck do you, DO YOU, have a blanket when the rest of us are freezing our fucking asses off in this shithole?"

"I don't know," Hermione exclaimed quietly, not wanting to anger her further, "I woke up and it was just on me."

"Hand it over."

"What? No, Gin—it's mine."

"Hand it fucking over."

Hermione bit down on her lip hard, pressing back the anxiety rising in her throat as she jumbled the soft blanket into her arms, gifting it to Ginny who ripped it away from her grasp.

"Why does it smell like him?"

Hermione shook her head, knowing if she were to reveal her recent acquaintance with the boy she'd likely be unfriended by the lot of them, "Like who, Gin-"

"Draco fucking Malfoy, Mione. What in fuck's name are you up to?!"

A lie she hadn't wanted to tell spilled from her lips before she could stop them.

"I'm trying to gain his trust so we might find a way out of here," Trust makes those vulnerable, and I have a feeling I may be able to get to him. I'm doing this for us, Gin. I promise."

Ginny shook her head, the blanket still curled in her arms, "So what, you're just prostituting yourself to your childhood bully because you think it'll make our stay a little less unbearable?"

She stepped forward, trying to grasp her blanket back but Ginny refused, tucking it behind her back.

"It's nothing sexual, just simple conversation," Hermione deflected, "I'm not a tramp, and sex is most definitely not how I would go about gaining someone's trust."

Ginny's lips closed in a tight smile, a thin line filled with frustration and question.

"So why does he leave you things? I watched him come inside one night once you were sleeping, and do you know what he did, Mione? He healed the fucking bruises his own soldiers beat into you. No 'simple conversation' could cause such an act."

"Gin, you underestimate me-"

"Don't act like you're such a prude either," she interrupted her, crossing her arms against her chest, "Don't think I didn't hear you and Viktor in your dorm when you were in fourth year, Mione. You were fourteen. He was fucking seventeen! What about you and Higgs in fifth year, yeah? And you and my brother getting it on every night during sixth year, holy fucking hell. You didn't even sound like you were enjoying it-"

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