Alone Together

Hermione Has a Good Cry

"Finally." he complained, not showing any sign of just receiving mysterious instructions, or any sign of how he had reacted to her declaration of trust, "Now I can get on with being clean."

Moaning Myrtle was excited to see them, and eager to point out Hermione's scar and fawn over Draco's sending glares Hermione's way.

"It's her fault." the spectacled ghost hissed.

"It was an accident." Draco shrugged nonchalantly.

How could he brush it off so easily? She'd scarred him permanently.

They performed the Washing Machine spell, Draco had improved significantly, only slightly drowning her this time. Granted, it was their fourth or fifth time doing this as per Draco's request. If it weren't for his complete lack of decency and care for others wellbeing, he would be perfect at the spell. But as soon as she thought that, hazy memories of him racing through the secret passages carrying her while she suffered from the searing pain and suffocation.

As they stood there, unsure of what to do next, Hermione suddenly had an idea. Searching under the sinks, she found the one with the snake engraven on the pipe. As soon as she touched it, there was a scraping sound as the sinks began to separate from each other.

"What in the bloody hell have you gotten us into this time?" Draco interrogated. Once the grinding noise stopped, Hermione stepped towards the dark entrance.

"Not this again." Myrtle squeaked, but was silenced by a glare from Hermione.

Looking to Draco, she waited for him to make a decision. The last time she had acted without telling him had ended terribly.

He groaned.

"Fine. There's nothing better to do." Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

"But you're going first," he commanded, glaring at her. She rolled her eyes, and grabbed the chain in between them. Draco groaned again.

"Same time then," he said grudgingly.

He closed the distance between them, and came to stand on her right, facing the hole.

"On three." he decided.

"One"

"Two"

Hermione shoved him and he slipped down with a yelp. As quickly as she could she jumped in after him so as to not get yanked.

Before now, Hermione had never really understood what authors had meant when they said the character "wove a tapestry of profanity," but as they slid down the pipe, the tapestry of profanity Draco wove was so grand and intricate, she was sure many critics would accept it as a form of modern art.

They landed in a jumbled heap at the bottom, a collection of tangled arms, legs, and chain. It took a few awkward moments to extricate themselves, but they were beyond caring about awkwardness at this point with all they had already experienced.

"I really really hate you, you know." he said simply.

Hermione nodded, grinning faintly. It wasn't every day you got to shove Draco Malfoy down a dark hole.

"This is disgusting," Draco stated, his voice echoing through all the dripping tunnels.

Hermione didn't speak, but led him forward and climbed over the rubble from their second year. The deja vu was incredible. They had been so young when Harry had had to face the diary Tom Riddle. Only about twelve or thirteen years of age. Now she was eighteen.

"Remind me why I even got clean?" Draco asked sarcastically as they made their way through the dank tunnels.

In a short time they reached the entrance, with it's metal snakes blocking it from opening. Recalling Ron mocking Harry speaking Parseltongue in his sleep, Hermione tried to imitate as best she could. With her vocal cords damaged as they were, it somehow made the garbled hissing sound somewhat similar to what she had heard Harry speak.