Living Proof

Chapter 20

The following morning was chilly, the wet mossy ground hugged Hermione's feet. Draco's death eater robes waved in the wind.

"I'm trusting you'll behave." Draco said firmly to the girl. His eyes seemed softer than usual. She felt strange outside without binds. She watched his every movement, she had become quite fascinated by him. Hermione had spent her entire life over analyzing and learning new material. She was always fascinated by growing intellectually. She had believed knowledge was power her whole life. Now, she wasn't sure what she believed anymore. All she knew was that Draco Malfoy was possibly her most difficult subject.

Draco casted his navigation charm towards the sky as they were about to begin their trek to the Manor. Hermione had a lump in her throat as she watched Draco vanish the large tent. Her chest felt hot and her skin felt too tight.

The navigation charm that hovered just above them awaited for Draco's signal. He walked past Hermione without a glance or acknowledgement. She really was unsure on why he was letting her walk freely with him.

Hermione held her body close and at least seven feet behind Draco at all times. He knew, he knew she feared him too much to try and run away. That was the conclusion she came up with. She was now obeying and walking behind him like a good prisoner. She hated playing the good prisoner. Her options had become thin and her mental state didn't allow her any more misconduct. She was drained, defeated and damned.

Hermione's back ached from her sleeping position the night before. Draco wasn't as kind as he was the night prior to offer her the bed. She took the itchy quilt and curled into the velvet chair to sleep. Draco's lingering scent on the chair tickled her nose throughout the night. Waking up every hour or so in a panic from nightmares she couldn't remember.

She still wore Draco's baggy loaned clothes. She had tied the shirt at her waist so it wouldn't drape over her body. Her flannel pajama bottoms had been pulled up by the shin so no dirt collected at the bottom hem. Hermione had grown sick of filth. Anything she could do to avoid it was ideal.

Hermione kept her eyes mostly on the back of Draco's head. His milky hair shines even brighter underneath the sun. His shoulders were posed as usual and she had never seen someone walk so sophisticated through a forest. He would glance back at her every once and a while. After the third time within a minute, Hermione decided she was just going to start humming so she wouldn't have to look at his face. Draco hadn't spoke word for an hour and Hermione was growing anxious.

"So, what's the plan?" Hermione blurted out.

"What plan?" Draco asked annoyed as he stepped over a large fallen branch

"The plan for me. For the most part, I know. But what about after? What if it doesn't work? Are you all going to dispose of me and leave me to rot or do I at least get a burial." Hermione talked so casually about her death it rubbed Draco strangely.

"You sound pretty sure that it's not going to work. Lost faith in your friends?" He said back to her.

She cleared her throat before answering. "Faith has nothing to do with it. I'm very aware of my situation. Just wanted to be enlightened on what could happen to me. I like to prepare."

Draco felt strange talking to her about her death. It seemed unfair that she seemed to think he held all the answers when in reality he was in the dark as much as she was.

"Quite frankly, I'm not sure." He replied to her. A few moments passed of only hearing the crunching under their feet. Draco was enjoying the silence.

He heard the witch clear her throat again prompting an immediate eye roll.

"Will you at least promise you'll try to make it painless?" She asked.

"Oh like slitting your throat open with a broken glass shard? Seems painless enough?" Draco's tone was clipped and frustrated.