(Hermione and Draco take on the zombie apocalypse) It's been five years since Harry, Hermione and Ron left Hogwarts.
Hermione, now twenty-two and engaged to Ron, prides herself in her intelligence. All her life, Hermione has always needed to kno...
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Hermione reached the treeline as the last of the thick forest disappeared behind her. They had not run into any more problems as they walked, but now that they were leaving the perceived safety of the tall, ancient trees, Hermione felt unease settle low in her stomach as her comfort was slowly taken from her.
They were now at the edge of the moor, and the beginnings of civilization were starting to poke through the wildness Hermione had become accustomed to during her time on its lands.
Or, at least, what it was that remained of it.
Nestled in what remained of the trees was a small, humble home. It had wooden slats along the walls, and a basic one story structure with a large fenced off yard and little potted plants growing wildly up its sides. It had an arched tin roof, but the insides were dark, and the fence partially broken. It looked abandoned, and Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to enter inside it, even though the door was partially open.
"Should we go inside? Maybe we could check for some supplies," Draco suggested from behind her. Hermione started at the break in their silence. They had been walking for several hours now without speaking a word. She had desperately hoped somewhere along their journey, she might see some signs of Harry, Luna, and Zabini -- but deep down she knew it was futile. If they had survived, they had gone in the opposite direction and would be forced to take a different route to Luna's.
She glanced back at Draco, remembering how he had torn her away from her friends. If he hadn't been trying to pull her away in the first place, she might have been walking alongside Harry at that very moment, instead of being forced to separate from the friend she had only just gotten back in her life again.
She knew, somewhere deep down, he had only been trying to get her away from the horde and had not intentionally tried to split up the group. But still, her fear and anguish needed a place to be directed, and Draco was the only one she could blame.
Even if she was only really just angry with herself... and guilty. Seeing the red hair of the dead man as he had walked towards them had only served to remind her of her guilt when it came to her strange new relationship with Draco Malfoy.
She cleared her throat, her voice thick from disuse as she looked back at the small home. The windows were dark, and the mist surrounding it gave it the sense it was haunted.
"That might be the smart thing to do, but whoever lived there left in a hurry. The door is half open, with Merlin knows what inside," she replied quietly.
Draco leveled up with where she had stopped, inspecting the home with a grimace.
"We have barely any food, and we still have a way to go to Lovegood's. And...I'm really in need of a coat."
Hermione started, turning to look at Draco closely for the first time since they had started their journey. He had layered two tops together, but his lips were pale and he was visibly shivering. His skin was covered in a sheen of dampness, the mist that still permeated the air wetting his skin so that the chill on the air seeped deep down into his bones. Looking over at Augurey, she had a sweater on but was not much better off.
