A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Sixteen

There's moisture everywhere, is the first thing Draco notices.

He's laying on the ground, and his entire backside is saturated with whatever he's laying on. He blinks his eyes open and groans. His head is in pain, pulsing at the base of his spine, and he lays his hands flat on the ground as he tries to push himself up to sit.

It doesn't work.

He falls back down, inwardly sighing as he glares at the cloudy sky through the tree branches.

Draco knows he should have listened to his gut and avoided all this, but somewhat deep in his mind, in his heart, he's started to feel...endearment towards these Gryffindors.

No, not endearment. Fond, maybe? Draco doesn't find anything endearing. Yes, he's become fond of these stupid Gryffindors with their false bravery. And their undying loyalty.

Draco thinks that's the part he likes the most. Because have one heartfelt conversation with one of them and you're deemed part of the crew, and it has been a long while since Draco has felt included.

Well, apart from the fact that he's only warmed up to Ron, he knows that when Ron Weasley befriends Draco Malfoy, there isn't much room left for argument. He knows he's safe.

That, or Ron Weasley has gone barmy.

He tries to sit up again and manages to hunch over forward, at least the ache in his body is dulling. He must have fallen straight on his back.

Tut tut, he thinks. If my posture suffers because of this, Mother will be devastated.

Draco looks around, and he rolls his eyes. Another damned copse.

But...there's no sun here. Draco turns his eyes to the sky and frowns. There's a thick fog clouding the tree line.

"Hello," he calls out, annoyed. "Anyone?"

He waits for a response for a few minutes, tearing out blades of grass but still keeping his ears perked.

And then he hears something.

It's very faint, almost too far away to be anything but a background noise. Of all the times he spent inside the Manor's nooks and crannies--it's hiding places--listening to Voldemort speak of him when he fell out of his favor, he's developed astounding listening skills.

So he looks up at the trees surrounding him, and very quickly realizes that he's not caged in like last time. He exhales in relief.

And there. There it is again.

It sounds like...a girl. Draco sits up straighter and looks around himself, trying to decipher what direction the noise is coming from. And out of nowhere a body bursts out from the tree line, falls and rolls, but impressively gets back up and keeps running.

Draco watches with wide eyes as something comes out of the forest after the person, and it's with shocking dread that he recognizes that hideous pink jumper.

He doesn't even think. He just springs up and takes off, his untrained legs burning from the concept of cardio. He also realizes with a bubble of anger that Hermione is fast on her feet, ridiculously fast. He sees her here and there through the trees, jumping and ducking and dodging in quick succession.