Alone Together

Draco Gets Some (Blood)

***

The next few days, to put it lightly, were hell on earth.

Malfoy and her communicated to the bare minimum, and the stares and whispers only got worse. Everyone she would usually wave or say hello to ignored her, intimidated by the constant presence of the dagger-eyed Slytherin.

They went to class, Hermione assumed mostly because neither of them knew what to do if they didn't. The sympathetic looks the professors gave her filled her with contempt. They felt sorry, yet did nothing to help her.

Never had she felt so alone, or so much pain.

Communicating was not an option to try and find something else to do. She had known it would probably turn out bad, but Hermione was not yet willing to give up on pretending each other did not exist. The oh so fragile peace they had somewhat established was possibly the only thing keeping her sane, despite the aching loneliness.

She longed for the comforting presence of Ron and Harry, Ginny and Neville. Even Luna, whose name just increased her pain. The flyers she and Ginny had put up floated around the grounds and took up residence in hallway corners, passed by and forgotten. It was somewhat how Hermione felt, except for the stares. Some of the Slytherins had moved onto rude comments, snickering as they walked past.

The helplessness was nearly unbearable. She couldn't do anything without Malfoy noticing, confining her to homework, or maybe a book. They sat in abandoned classrooms alone, away from people, filling their time with useless tasks. It was mind-numbingly boring, and part of her wished to be near more people, where she could at least have the presence of others to compensate for Malfoy's dark shadow always next to her, but the thought of the stares and almost condescending glances trapped her here.

Already there had been too many times to count that they had tried to go opposite ways, and ended up yanking each other. They would glare, and engage in an awkward tuggle war, Draco with his one manacled hand, and Hermione grasping the chain in both hands so as to not pull with her neck. It usually ended with whoever noticed people were staring first. At least the bloody Slytherin was as humiliated as she, even though she knew it came from being chained to a filthy Mudblood. Hermione was glad to provide the service, and the spite motivated her.

Hermione could see the life noticeably start to drain from Draco by the third day. She wondered how much longer he could go before he had to eat. They were both suffering and they knew it, but neither of them said anything. They sat in complacency, almost patiently waiting for the madness to overtake them, for if they stayed like this, Hermione knew it surely would. Ignoring each other was getting them nowhere. But the thing that gnawed at her mind was the question of where were they trying to get?

She pondered this, then realized a goal they had in common: to get out of this entrapment device that was causing them this awfulness.

The only part she was hesitant about was that they would have to collaborate-which was basically the entirety of reaching the goal. Hermione couldn't imagine even having a conversation with Malfoy without it ending with them yelling and fighting each other. But at this point, getting the collar was worth any cost. Even acknowledging the fact that that pompous, smug, spoiled coward existed and working with him.

During that night's torture session, even through the blinding pain, Hermione could see the Slytherin's sharp jaw clench slightly as her face was bloodied by Alecto, obviously the smell of fresh blood affecting him. When they left, Hermione sat there for a moment, for she had found a few moments of stillness alleviated a small fraction of the pain.

"I have a proposition," she rasped, the raw sound of her voice becoming too familiar.

"What might that be?" he inquired stiffly, obviously in a more conversational mood than usual. Probably he was desperate to get his mind off of his starving stomach.