In a world where Voldemort has wreaked havoc by controlling the undead, Hermione struggles on her own. That is, until she runs into Draco.
Traveling alone, Hermione tries to find her way back to something she knows - hoping she won't go crazy first...
"... Are you talking about your parents?" Hermione asked unsurely.
That bitter laugh of his echoed in the kitchen. Draco looked away from her, eyes empty, and said to himself, "Ahh, I guess I killed them, too, didn't I? Maybe that means you'll die by my hand as well."
"But you didn't kill them - you told me. They-"
"Died to protect me," he finished, "It's the same thing; they died because of me."
"But then who else are you talking about?"
"You've never seen a movie before?"
"What do you dream about, Granger?" The Slytherin boy asked, "What haunts you?"
"Mostly... your aunt Bellatrix," she admitted, "Sometimes it's other parts of the war, but it always comes back to Bellatrix."
"I guess I dream of everyone I've killed. Recently," Draco told her as if he was discussing the weather, "I've been haunted by a little muggle boy."
Hermione waited, not knowing how to respond.
"You've never seen a movie before?"
"He keeps asking why I've never seen a - movie? - before. I couldn't tell him it was because I was a wizard."
"And this little boy... is dead now?" Hermione guessed.
"I killed him," Draco confirmed bluntly.
"Why? When?" Hermione inquired hesitantly. She didn't want to force the story out of him, but she was curious.
"It was a little while after my mother died. I met a muggle family while I was traveling alone."
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Draco had aimlessly wandered, just like the undead that had taken over the world, except he didn't kill for fun like they did.
It wasn't all that weird, being all alone. He had been alone since the Dark Lord had started living in the Malfoy Manor. Trying to fulfill an almost impossible mission had taken its toll on Draco, leaving him practically friendless and exhausted.
Now, though, his parents were gone and he didn't have any more support from his mother.
He didn't really know what he was doing - he supposed if he wanted, he could try to find the Dark Lord and take him down.
But who was he kidding? He didn't even have anyone to help him - and there would be so many other Death Eaters around to kill him before he could even see the Dark Lord's face.
Besides, that was Potter's job.
And so he merely continued to wander around without a goal of any sort, bringing down any undead that got in his way.
He wasn't sure how long he had wandered for, but he vividly remembered stumbling upon a convenience store, starving and tired.
He almost gave up as he picked a corner to sit in and ate chips - there was no reason for him to keep living.
But after a handful of chips, he was startled by the appearance of an old man. He had stepped out from behind a shelf unit. The man's hair was a graying brown, and his beard was strangely well trimmed. Draco remembered that the man had wore crisp (although worn and slightly dirty) clothing. He had been taller than Draco, and was of an average build, slightly muscular, but age was clearly affecting him.
Quietly, the man had asked, "Who are you?"
This is where I die by some greedy muggle, Draco remembered thinking.
"I'm... Draco. Just Draco."
There had been a strange sort of silence in which the man must have been observing the wizard.
And then he said, "I'm Don."
Names didn't really hold much meaning to Draco at this point when everything around him was dying - except for the Dark Lord's name, but that had always been an exception, even before the end of the world rolled in.
The man had been kind - he had let Draco live and tag along with his family, even though he already had a child to worry about.
Draco had always wondered why, but never questioned it. He didn't want the man to reconsider.
He didn't know the man would tell him as he died.
After determining that Draco wasn't a threat, the man had let him meet his wife and their child, both of whom were also behind the shelf.
Don's wife was a slight woman. She looked like she could easily snap in half, causing Draco to wonder how she'd survived even with the help of her husband (although Draco would find out later that she was quite tough). She had long, dark hair and small features on her face - small eyes; a small, flat nose; a small mouth. And she was tan, especially compared to her husband.
The child was even smaller, though, and Draco had been afraid to go near him at first. He had his mother's dark hair and eyes, but would probably grow up to look a little more like his father.
Too bad he didn't get to grow up.
The first day that Draco had traveled with them, he stayed distant. He walked a few steps behind them and didn't talk unless he was spoken to. Don, although a soft-spoken man, tried to encourage Draco to open up to them. He would chat about things that were no longer important: hobbies, favourite food, and dream jobs.
Draco felt like an adopted child.
On the other hand, Don's wife, Maria, was silent until she had something important to say. She wasted no words or time on small talk. Draco wondered if she had always been like that or if this new world with all its undead inhabitants had changed her.
The child - his name was Kyle - occasionally tried to speak with Draco, but Draco had refused to say much then.
It was by the end of the second day with them that Draco relaxed his guard around them - they were merely a family, trying to survive. They weren't just greedy humans who would kill him off for any reason.
And so, on the third day, when the child came up to him and tried to start a conversation, Draco tried for a small smile and humoured the kid.
That was the day the kid had found out Draco had never seen a movie before.
