Would You Like A Hand?

11 | i can't

They both knew this was a horrible idea.

Walking around with an almost major injury - especially in a mall - was not the greatest plan. Malls were known to be filled with undead, and here they were: the stubborn Gryffindor and the cowardly Slytherin.

A dark look crossed Draco's face, of which Hermione noticed and said, "What?"

"Look at us. The injured Gryffindor and the spineless Slytherin."

She sent a questioning look his way, but this time he didn't say anymore.

The two of them were in a shoe store now, looking to replace their own beat up pairs. When they had looked out the first clothing store, they hadn't seen any undead wandering around (Draco had commented that it was strange, but Hermione didn't want to waste time thinking about it through her pain). The students quietly made their way past a few storefronts before pausing at a large display of boots, shoes, and sandals.

Clutching her wand, Hermione walked in briskly (as brisk as she could with her injury) and stopped by the running shoes. She caught herself browsing (falling into muggle habits) and froze before leaving the shelves and looking for the back area where they stored the majority of the shoes with all the different sizes.

Draco followed closely behind her. She moved as if she didn't just suffer a slice to her torso, but a close eye on her told Draco that she was moving (although subtle) very carefully, favouring her right side. Her movements seemed a little stiff in result, although Draco knew that she was doing a good job of hiding it.

He was shouldering both of their knapsacks because he hadn't wanted Hermione to carry hers while she tried to ignore her sliced torso.

The storage room was organized with more shelves, the different sizes noted with huge signs near the ceiling.

A strange shriek was silenced immediately by Draco's wand. Hermione had frozen at the sight of it at the back of the room; the thing had a severely busted up face and was missing a leg. Its ripped clothing was almost entirely black with thick, dried blood.

After the Silencio, Draco cast Incendio, as usual. He hadn't needed to incarcerate it; a hefty looking desk was already crushing it to the ground, somehow overturned.

"Granger?" he put a hand lightly on her shoulder. She was staring wide-eyed at the fire as it burnt its way through the silenced being and the desk.

She closed her eyes and then moved away to look at the selection of shoes.

Draco dropped his hand and watched her a little longer before moving closer to the fire. He used Aguamenti to contain the fire in it's small area - having to run from a burning building was not a good idea, especially with Hermione's wound.

The burning being clawed at nothing, trying to save itself but not having the brain capacity to know how to. Draco stood a safe distance away, spraying water onto anything that shouldn't be on fire.

When the undead thing stopped moving, he doused most of the flames and turned to Hermione. He found her looking at him.

She asked him, "Do you want new shoes?"

He almost wanted to laugh - who cared in this world? - but he didn't, because he really did want new shoes. His were not going to last much longer. The treads were rubbed away, his left sole was starting to fall off, and there were definitely cuts and tears all over both shoes.

Nodding, he scanned the boxes on the shelves and quickly grabbed a few to look through.

As he tried them on to find the comfiest and most durable pair, he realized he could hear Hermione's strained breathing.