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FrostfootDreamleaf22 — The Green Games: Chapter Twenty-Four (Dramione)

#abbott #colin #corner #creevy #draco #dramione #fanfiction #games #granger #green #hannah #harry #hermione #hunger #malfoy #michael #pansy #parkinson #pike #potter #tracy #webber
Published: 2015-11-12 04:54:25 +0000 UTC; Views: 3562; Favourites: 4; Downloads: 0
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Description Pike was the first to speak when Pansy stumbled into the clearing, a little after the moon hung high in the sky.

"What happened?" He broke the silence with a stunned whisper, and the look Pansy gave him was deadly.

"I got in a fight with something the game-makers threw at me, alright? But I survived." She replied angrily, her fingers stained bright red and pressing hard to her side, "I killed Seamus though. Did you know he and Hermione were boning?" She asked.

Corner and Pike shared looks.

"I didn't even know they talked to each other." Corner admitted, eyes narrowing in thought.

"Yeah, too bad. Dead now." She shrugged.

"Are you sure-," Corner began to ask, and Pansy snapped her head up, glaring.

"If you are insinuating someone as pathetic as Seamus did this to me, you won't last any longer than he did." She hissed.

"No, just...never mind." Corner held up his hands.

Pike was not as easily deterred though. "What attacked you again?" He questioned, examining her cuts all over, the bruises beginning already on her face.

"Does it matter?" Pansy questioned, "Get your ass over here and help me. I'm bleeding out, Merlin, and you're asking what got to me?"

"Sorry." Pike felt the tips of his ears redden with shame, because she was right. She looked pretty pale to her usual.

"What do I need to do?" Corner asked, stumbling near at a safe distance. But Pike doubted Pansy could do much harm right now; she looked as though he could blow her over with a slight breeze!

"You're a Ravenclaw. Find me some damn plants or something that will help me. Or go call on some sponsors. Do something useful. Or do I have to spell everything out?"

Pike noticed she was being much more derisive than usual, not that she wasn't highly judgmental of them all the time, but he assumed it was from the pain. Even as she spoke, she swayed a bit.

"Why don't you sit, so I can examine you better?" He asked. Number one rule to Pansy; always let her save face.

"Well," She obviously wanted to sit, but seemed hesitant, "I suppose." She gave a grandiose sigh.

He knelt beside her, sucking in a sharp breath at the damage over her body. If she wasn't bleeding in a place, it was bumped or bruised. His eyes started at her face, near her cheeks, where the biggest and ugliest bruise so far was forming. He met Pansy's eyes, and adverted his swiftly.

His eyes traveled along the cuts, and he bit his tongue from saying the stupid thing he was thinking. Not that the thought itself was stupid; no he wasn't a Crabbe or Goyle and actually did decently well at exams, but to say it so Pansy could hear would be stupid. The returning thought was that these wounds...they were too precisely cut, sliced evenly. Even the sharpest of animal claws couldn't be so neat.

They looked as though they were done with a blade.

Unless it was someone sent down, or an animal/monkey thing that suddenly had great control over swinging a heavy object, she met someone out there. Maybe it was Seamus that did this, maybe it wasn't, but she wasn't going to ever admit to that.

He saw a blackened grit underneath the blood on her hands, covering her whole palm and fingers like she'd pressed it in black paint. It let off an awful smell and was warm to the touch, when his finger brushed along it accidentally. It brought him back to the more recent years of Dumstrang, right before Voldemort took over, when things were in an uproar and power was shifting so frequently. Dark Magic.

Pansy was weak right now, from her wounds and from her acts. He was still surprised she was still standing. But when he looked at her eyes again, there was an unnatural glint in them. He'd heard of someone becoming so intertwined with Dark Magic that it ate at them like a disease; just look at Lord Voldemort. Pike had heard rumors he'd been quite handsome back in his day, and well, no one but Bellatrix Lestrange (who was certifiably mental) was asking him out now. He wondered briefly is the Dark Magic, as odd as it were, was keeping her alive and upright, because it was consuming her.

He didn't ask though. If she did know, she wouldn't thank him for poking into her own choices. If she didn't...? In his own mind, after going to a school so known for it's Dark Magic, it was foolish to do something so great to bring this on, and not even know it. She might not even care, not if the Dark Magic was with her now. It made people do really crazy things.

"I had these in my packs." Corner came back, holding a needle and thread, "And I've tried to get the attention of some sponsors. It's likely three AM back home though, I don't know whose going to be up."

"Excuses." Pansy spat, "And you're just now showing me these? Ugg!" She snatched the needle and thread from his fingers, "Someone get me some water. To clean this, right, Ravenclaw?" She looked pointedly at Corner.

"Well, some alcohol would be better-,"

"Do we have that?" Pansy raised a hopeful eyebrow, although her voice was still scathing.

"Well..no-,"

"Then that was quite the useless thing to say, wasn't it? Water." She directly curtly. She looked back down at Pike, who was still studying her wounds. His head was still wrapping around, well, everything, "You're going to sew me." She said.

"Huh?" Pike was surprised beyond words, "Why...me?"

He'd never done anything like this before, not even at home. He'd never seen anyone do it either, and he guessed Corner knew more about than him.

"I don't trust Corner. I don't trust anyone, as a general rule of thumb, but I trust you a smidgen more than him, so it's your job. I would do it myself bu-," She stopped herself swiftly. She almost gave away she needed help. Her eyes flashed down to her hands, giving it away, and his gaze followed. Even holding her side, they were shaking so violently that she couldn't have even tried to string it or sew if she tried.

Besides, despite whatever was keeping her awake- maybe just adrenaline and not Dark Magic- it was waning. He couldn't even imagine the pain she must be in, and if she fainted after the first needle through her skin, he'd be able to keep going.

The air around them had cooled considerably, although it hadn't been as noticeable until now. Now, tiny flakes began to dust the clearing. Pansy, shivering more from the cold, looked up.

"For Merlin's sake..." She whispered, her voice breaking, the first very visible sign that she wasn't as much with it as she seemed to be. Pike took this moment of weakness to question her.

"What really got to you? I'd follow you anywhere, you know that." He said, his cold fingers fumbling to thread the needle.

"You don't need to know." Pansy said softly, and he took that answer as proof enough it wasn't something the game makers sent.

"Did you at least make them pay?" Pike questioned, raising an eyebrow as he finally knotted the darn thing, "This might hurt."

Pansy hardly responded, and didn't even after he pierced the skin at her side. She was lifting her shirt, nearly over her head, for him to get the best angle. He could see the bottom of her breasts, and coughed and looked down as quick as he could without messing up his work. It's not like they weren't nice to look at, Merlin he would have looked at any bird's breasts now, but they were Pansy's. She'd quicker cut his hand off for trying to touch it than let him get anywhere, or even compliment them. They were nice.

"Well, there hasn't been a second cannon, has there?" Pansy said sourly, her lips twisting.

"I'd rather have you alive than whoever it was." Pike said, and Pansy seemed to relax slightly at his comment, meaning it was a correct one, "Besides, if you even did a fraction to them of what you look like, they won't last long. Not in this weater. I could go hunt them down, make them suffer for what they did. I'd do it. Gladly." He wasn't even lying; he would not only love some action to really hurt someone like he had with Lavender, but it would be so much sweeter to do it for Pansy's revenge. It would be worse.

Pansy pursed her lips, and her whole face darkened, "You wouldn't get there in time."

"They'd be...dead?" Pike frowned.

"Worse, Draco will find them." She winced as he pulled the string through, the first reaction to his work.

Pike was very silent, "Unless it's Tracey, I don't understand why he'd help someone else?"

"Because..." Pansy gave a long sigh, "He's in love with her. Or he thinks he is."

Pike wasn't even sure which females were alive and dead at this point, so he stayed quiet. He didn't have a smidgen of a clue who it could be anyway, which was likely how Pansy preferred it.

"He's been brainwashed, I swear. She's been slipping him love potions for years." She said. Pike startled.

"Really?"

"What other option is there?" Pansy replied, her voice raising, "This girl is filth. Draco deserves so much better, and he wouldn't ever look at her if she wasn't doing something like that. She's taken him over. I should have killed her when I had the chance; then whatever Draco's been having would have worn off. He would have seen reason, came back to me." Pansy insisted firmly.

"Heck, if that's true..." Pike gave a low whistle, "She sounds awful."

"She is." Pansy's eyes were beginning to glaze over with pain, "I should have killed her. I should have."

"You won't have to chose next time." Pike tried to cheer her up, "Even if Draco does find her, it will be two against three." He said. Pansy took a couple deep breaths.

"You're right." She admitted, "I'm just being affected by it all. But you breathe one word to Corner or anyone to indicate I was weak just now, at all, and I cut you into a thousand pieces while you're still alive." She threatened.

Pike almost let out a sigh of relief; this was far more familiar. Not that he enjoyed being threatened, but the vulnerable Pansy scared him. He didn't know how to react to it.

"Yes ma'am."

"Keep sewing. I don't want it to look as thought a toddler did it, Webber." She commanded in her normal tone, and Pike nodded.

Snow was coming down harder now, and Corner began to try to make a shield for them with magic from the chill. When he had a semi-working one up, he began to make a fire. When Pike gave him a crazed look, he scoffed.

"What? Whose going to attack us? They'd be suicidal." Corner said confidently. Pike looked back at Pansy, who didn't even seem to hear, for she was drifting in and out of sleep.

"Pansy couldn't fight right now." Pike hissed under his breath, so she didn't hear.

"We could though. She's protected us, fed us. We'd protect her." Corner said, and Pike bit his lip. Pansy was both of their best bet. While Corner's proposition seemed noble, Pike saw the cunning underneath it. No Pansy, no willing sponsors, less likely chance. They might still survive, they were good at these things after all, but their likelihood of survival would be significantly less, seeing as though there were obviously more goody-two-shoes that would band together with each other first than Corner or Pike. He knew that both of them had the thought crossing their mind of killing her now, or leaving her here alone. But if either of those backfired...he shuddered; no protecting her was clearly the best option.

"I suppose." Pike came closer to the fire. The air around his was warming from Corner's attempt at a protective bubble. It was doing the job, for now.

THEGREENGAMES

Caligula woke up, and his fingers reached out and retracted quickly; something was ice-cold. With a groan, he accepted the fact it had snowed again. The first time, he'd been completely shocked by it, and it had come as quite the shock.

He should have expected it this time though, because last night a friendly bird sent to him informed him of the word 'cold'. He'd more or less brushed the thought away, due to exhaustion his part, and laid down without the thought that it would snow...again.

But the game makers were cruel bastards, weren't they?

His body was warm, and he noticed a second jacket laying on top of him. He raised his head, threading his fingers through his long hair and wrapping it up with a piece of string, to see Mandy sitting on a rock overlooking the arena. They'd reached a high point last night, but he didn't realize until now how much they saw.

They'd gone quite far too; pretty much running away since they'd almost run into Pansy and the other baddies, wanting to be nowhere near them, or far enough ahead to out-pace them.

He shrugged the second jacket off, and took a tentative step onto the snow. Sure, the soles of his feet had callused enough to create a leathery exterior, it didn't mean he'd lost all the never endings. It was uncomfortable to walk barefoot across the snow. He'd prefer flaming coals any day.

"Aren't you cold?" He questioned, starling Mandy, eyeing her milky white exposed arms. If he was straight, he'd likely admire them, or admit that she was an unexpected beauty. She rubbed her arms, although seemingly not out of chilliness, as there wasn't even goosebumps raised along her flesh.

"The cold rarely bothers me. I know you get easily cool, though." She said, never taking her eyes off the horizon. A smidgen of warmth flooded his body. He recalled that they had disliked each other at Hogwarts, and even at the beginning of the game. They were together because they were Ravenclaws, even if she didn't quite consider him a 'real' one. He'd thought their exchange wouldn't pass more than the standard brotherhood their house held dear, but this comment showed change. She not only recalled his dislike of cold temperatures, but gave him her coat while he slept. It was almost...nice.

"Thanks." He said, and sat with her.

The arena seemed to stretch for miles. He could see, in the distance, where their beginning point was. It was a large bald patch among a tightly packed groping of trees. He saw smaller cliffs and rivers and hills. He saw other clearings, dots of disturbed forest in the distance, and his eyes followed it to the edge of forever.

"It's probably not that big." Mandy said, reading his thoughts, "There's a barrier around us, invisible of course. We're just looking at the poor forest they've decimated to play their games." She said bitterly.

"How do you know?" He asked, frowning.

She pointed back, about twelve feet from where he'd fallen asleep. "See the shimmer there? How it almost looks like the air when something's burning?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"That's the barrier. Strong magic. Don't touch it though," she showed a red hand full of burnt, bubbled skin, "It's painful."

"I thought a Ravenclaw would be smarter than to touch something like that." He scoffed.

"I threw a rock through it, and it landed on the other side. It only keeps humans in. It's how the hovercrafts can arrive." She said, "But yes, not my smartest moment." She shoved her hand back into the snow, where it had been previously.

"Are you just numbing your hand or...?"

"I woke up, couldn't sleep. Watched the sunrise." Her breath caught, "It's been ten days already. It feels much longer."

"Only ten?" Caligula's voice rose in surprise, "Sheesh." He agreed; it had seemed like months he'd been trapped here, waiting to die. I suppose when facing one's own mortality, time either slowed down or sped up. He'd rather it speed up, personally.

He was under no idea he'd make it out of here alive. He was smart, true, but there were much better competitors out there, stronger and better than him. He was going up against the likes of Draco Malfoy. He didn't believe the rumors he was healing people, but it could be true. If it was, that was honestly all the more reason to fear him. Anyone who knew how to heal someone properly knew exactly how to kill them as well. At least, he mused, it wouldn't be painful when he went.

Mandy was up against Pansy, which was a worse threat. He didn't know if she'd come to that conclusion yet, that she'd likely not make it out of there either, but from her expression and her faraway gaze, perhaps she had. Maybe she was regretting not killing Pansy when she had the chance, no matter how many times he assured her she'd been taken down too, and that wouldn't be a reasonable move.

"Do you think after this is done, they'll leave this forest alone again?" She questioned.

"The usually seem to. The games are never in the same places. Voldemort has a whole lot of land to chose from." He said, recalling some previous games that were set near oceans, or on a desert.

"To think...one day someone will be walking around here, and never know the horrors this place saw, the bloodshed it absorbed." Mandy mused, frowning, "That one day it will re-grow and any idea any of us were ever here will be as though it never existed."

"That's sort of sad." He agreed, knowing that one day, he might be remembered, but nothing more than as the boy who died in the 6th Green Games or that he was gay or that he was American and Native American so of course he didn't make it or-

It was causing him to have an existential crisis.

Mandy stood, grabbing a knife from his pocket, "Here." She said, going to a tree, "Can I?" She motioned to the tree, waving her knife at it.

"You won't kill it, I guess." Caligula said, confused, although knowing where she was going with it...slightly.

She began to carve deep into it, flourished letters, his view obscured until nearly the very end. When she stepped back, their names were carved into the bark; 'Mandy and Caligula. We existed. We fought. We nearly lived.'

"If either of us makes it, we'll come back for it." She said, tears leaking from her eyes, another unexpected sight. Mandy always seemed so put together, so strong, "If we don't, the tree will speak for anyone that finds it."

"Things are going to end soon, I think." Caligula agreed, his throat tightening at the sight, "For us or for the game. Of which, I can't decide."

THEGREENGAMES

Hermione woke gradually. She let herself breathe, eyes closed, but awake for a couple moments before she creaked her eyes open. Someone was at her side at an instant. When she saw his face light up with glee, Hermione couldn't help but let her's brighten as well.

"Colin! You are real." She said, and tried to get up.

"Woah, slow down." Colin pressed her shoulder back onto the mat, "You pretty much died. Take it slow."

"Pretty much?" Hermione questioned, and Colin bit his lip.

"Your heart stopped for twelve seconds, before you woke up. The cannons didn't even have a chance to fire. Don't know how that works into the rules, but you haven't been carted away. I think they just won't tell the public." Colin said.

Hermione, laying supine, nodded.

"This conversation won't be broadcasted then, either." She chuckled, thinking of the people scurrying around, trying to change to something else before any word got out. Colin grinned again.

"How do you feel?"

It was a legitimate question, one Hermione hadn't even paused to ask herself. Now that she was back into the world of the living, away from the effortless place of no pain and suffering, it was odd. Everything felt heavier, compared to the whiteness of limbo.

"Everything hurts." She moaned, and winced as she shifted, "I feel like I got run over by a train." She said. Being in the games so far had kept her quite fit; she hadn't felt this way in a long time. It was the sort of feeling after you've worked out suddenly after being non-active for a long time, and the aftermath where there was just a dull, aching throbbing in every muscle in your body. But this was worse; it was like someone had been forcing her muscles to move even after she'd been out.

"Understandable." Colin said, and she saw his eyes traveling down her body. She lifted her head slightly, and winced at her appearance. Her whole body was covered in purple bruises.

"I did fall off a cliff. I think." She tried to recall the exact events- she'd seen them so clearly with Harry- but now they were almost fuzzy, far away.

"Yeah." Colin rubbed the back of his neck, "Nasty fall. And stabbed." He sounded tired as he spoke, worn-out. Hermione thought of all her wounds.

"I wasn't an easy person to fix. You look exhausted; shouldn't you be sleeping?" It was only fair. She was out of the woods now, and Colin seemed like he was going to fall asleep standing upright.

"Oh, don't worry about me." He waved his hand, "Draco's the one who really deserves it."

It was the first time Hermione acknowledged another person in the cave- Draco napping on a second pallet near the entrance, deeply engaged in his sleep. Colin followed her gaze; "I mean, I had to wake him up anytime something, anything, happened. I never took medic classes. He was up eight hours straight saving you, and then maybe got half-hour naps if we were lucky. I got a few more hours than that. I've been watching you for about four hours though, letting him sleep." Colin said proudly. Hermione's first thought was Harry's comment, about how someone down there was really trying to save her. She'd thought it was a sponsor, maybe Fred or McGonagall sending down helpful things and leading someone to her, but now she realized that it was him. He'd spent hours reconstructing her, from what it seemed. Eight to be exact.

Eight was a long time, she realized with a jolt.

"Eight-what time is it?" Hermione tried to turn to see the light of the outside, but her body cried in protest.

"Geeze, uhm, likely dusk." Colin shrugged, "I'm surprised you're awake now. Draco didn't think you'd be up for another day."

Hermione found it unnerving to hear Colin refer to Malfoy so casually as Draco. "Why are you here, Colin?" She asked bluntly.

"Dunno. Draco never asked me to leave, and I never had a reason to. He's actually sort of nice. Weird, I know." He held up his hands, grinning, and Hermione laughed with him.

"Don't make me laugh!" She tried to swat at him, "It hurts too much." She wailed dramatically. His smile never left.

"Much as Draco's an ok companion, Merlin am I glad to see you. His sense of humor is so...deadpanned." Colin elaborated with a shudder, "Gryffindors get real humor."

Hermione's lips quirked upward, "Well, don't make me laugh too much. Don't want all your hard work to go to waste." She said. She felt her fingers automatically travel down, and brush against a raw and raised scar on her chest. Tight stitches ran through it, done with a steady hand, and Hermione knew that despite likely Draco's best efforts, it would still leave a scar.

"What did it hit?"

"What didn't it?" Colin wheezed, "I don't know what all the medical stuff was, with you. I don't fully know if Draco does. I worried you might still bleed internally, but Draco did some spell, and you seem okay...for now." He added softly .Hermione jerked her hand away. She didn't like thinking her life was so preciously in balance, not after going to limbo.

"Do you still have the sword?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, we haven't a chance to toss it yet." Colin rubbed the back of his neck.

"I want it."

"Blimey, Hermione. It killed you."

"It's mine though. It has my name on it." Hermione insisted firmly, "And Pansy deserves some revenge." She muttered sourly as an after thought. Colin hesitated, but got up, brushing off his knees and going over to a shallower part of the cave. When he came back, he held it in a fabric, and laid it by Hermione's hands.

She wiggled cautiously to a half-sitting position, and took it. It was the perfect weight in her hand, and it felt right. It had been hard to realize it in the battle, but it truly was made specifically to her. It would be a shame to throw it away, if she had been considering it for a moment, which she hadn't. She needed protection, obviously, because her hand still looked like it wasn't miraculously healed, and would need time to set and re-grow.

"This is also what saved me, you know. I don't think I could have beaten Pansy then and there without it." She said, watching the light reflect off the blade, and then looked at Colin. He'd saved her too, "Thank you."

"I wouldn't want that sort of dagger, but-,"

"No. For saving me." Hermione said, "Really."

"I didn't do much. Got in Draco's way often, he told me." Colin blushed at the thought, wincing.

"Well, you still saved me. I know I wouldn't have been here if you weren't with Draco." She said firmly. He gave her a curious look.

"How so?"

"Well, you convinced Draco to save my life, right?" Hermione felt silly spelling it out. She didn't understand why Colin needed to hear it; it wasn't life-changing admissions of truth, just facts, "I remember the look he gave me when he saw me. Disgust. You must have done something to get him to even think about healing me. I owe you one."

Colin only laughed, "Even if I did convince Draco, which I didn't, you can't..." He fumbled for his words, "Draco spent a meticulous eight hours of exhausting work to save your life, and never once tried to take a break, or blame you. You can't be that dedicated, even if you are a healer, if you also didn't want that person to live."

He let Hermione digest the words.

"So..." She twiddled her thumbs, "You're saying Draco healed me? By his own volition?" She was quite surprised, "But why?"

Colin sudden looked sheepish, "That's really something he needs to tell you. He'd kill me right now if I tried." He said.

"I don't understand." Hermione said. Colin shrugged, and smiled, but his teeth were grit.

"You'll understand soon." He said.

There was rustling from the other end of the cave. Draco lifted his head, his eyes sharpening in on Colin's and Hermione's forms. His whole body awakened.

"Creevey! She's awake and you didn't think you should tell me?" He said, springing up, glaring hard at Colin.

"Oh, it's my fault. I was talking to him." Hermione said.

"Were you also keeping him on a leash? What if something was-Merlin!" Draco sounded more agitated than usual. Every time that Hermione looked at him, he seemed to be hating her, but in the next, there was a different emotion in his eyes.

"Sorry."

"Go to sleep, you bloody Gryffindor." Draco softened, but still scowled at Colin, "You managed not to kill her on your watch, so thanks."

"I'm going to sleep." Colin said, nodding to Hermione, "I'm pretty exhausted. We can talk later, of course." He said.

"Yeah, course." Hermione watched him stumble over to the remaining cot, and a moment after his body crashed onto the softness, he was snoring.

It made Hermione feel a bit uneasy to be left with Draco.

For a long time, they didn't speak. Instead, he ran different tests on her with his hands, waving over her body. He seemed pleased by all the results, so Hermione relaxed back.

After the tests, Draco turned around to a couple of dug-out shelves. "Hungry?" He asked tensely, his voice carefully controlled. Hermione realized that she hadn't eaten in two days; there simply wasn't time in between Seamus going out, him dying, her dying...it seemed so much longer than almost 42 hours ago.

"Starved." She said, and her stomach growled on cue. Draco almost smiled.

While he got a fire going and began to cook something, Hermione studied the necklace in her fingers. Never once did she think that what she experienced wasn't real. She was far more accepting, after everything she'd seen here, and merely being a witch as it were. Even if she were to wonder about the authenticity of it, she now had proof that there was something else out there, and Harry was waiting.

Tears crept up on her, and it wasn't until a tear slipped down her cheek did she realize how resoundingly sad she was to lose Seamus. It was the dullest, but most persistent ache in her whole body.

Her fingers ran adoringly over his initials, and she felt so privileged to have this. She could see him twirling the charm in his fingers when he was nervous in school or in the games, such a familiar Seamus expression.

"That's Seamus'." Draco's voice startled her, and she looked up to see his eyes firmly glued to it.

"Yeah." Hermione answered softly, "It is."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed, and he looked hurt for a moment. He looked right at Hermione this time, any semblance of hatred vanished from his eyes. Instead, they were just storms of grey, a battle she didn't understand raging beneath them.

"Was he something to you?" He asked, and Hermione hesitated a moment longer than she wanted to.

"No." She said, stuffing the charm back into a pocket, "We weren't anything at all, really."

And they weren't. One night and a day did not make two people anything other than perhaps friends, which they already were. Despite that what they'd done was by definition more than friends, it wasn't...She bit her lip. Even more, she didn't want Draco to know that he was everything to her. That, with maybe just another week, she could have loved him as passionately as he loved her. Draco didn't deserve to know, no one did. It was a secret she couldn't imagine spilling to Draco, let alone the whole world. She wanted to keep those emotions, those thoughts, those desires to herself. She wanted Seamus, those memories, to herself.

She deserved to be a little selfish.

Besides, Draco's posture relaxed at it, as if relieved, although that made little sense to Hermione. He nodded to her words, and turned back to the food.

"I am sorry, by all means." He said, back to her, "He was a Gryffindor after all. Loosing housemates hurts anyone."

"thanks." Hermione said awkwardly, and considered returning the gesture, but with Blaise. But knowing that she'd killed him, although she was sorry, made the words catch up in her throat. Sorry wouldn't cut it, she told herself. She just wan't sure how yet.

Draco sat carefully on the edge of the bed, near her legs. He handed her a spit with some kind of meat on it, and a canteen of water. He had a spit for himself, but he waited until Hermione took the first bite.

She wasn't even apprehensive, or questioned what it was. She ate it ferociously, like a starving wolf, and hardly tasted whatever it was at all, but she felt as if she could eat twelve more. Luckily, Draco was prepared, and pulled two more spits from the ground. Hermione devoured the second, and by the third, was satiated enough to allow herself to actually enjoy it.

She, if she had to bet money on it, would say the mystery meat was a rabbit or some other small mammal.

She drank the whole canteen too.

"Good to see you hungry. It's a good sign." Draco said to himself more than Hermione, very professional and doctor like. He still seemed...distant to her. More like the Draco she knew at Hogwarts, not at all like the Draco she met on the balconies. They were like two totally different people at this point. She was tempted to ask if he had a twin somewhere, but he didn't much seem in the mood for any sort of humor. He was tearing off his meat with precision, and savoring each bite. He went over and drove the last spit into the ground next to Colin, for whenever he got hungry.

Hermione watched him shuffle around, still not saying much of anything at all to her. She though about what COlin said, and how he was correct. He had deliberately chosen to save her, but he was walking around her like he'd shattered glass around her bed and couldn't get to close.

There was a tingling sound of a package, but all that drifted down was a little rolled scroll. When Draco came back with it, he shook tiny snowflakes from his hair. It was a winter phase, Hermione said, and marveled in this moment at how well this cave was. With all the spells laced into it, she couldn't have told you it was snowing outside, for she was perfectly warm.

Draco was examining the scroll carefully, but she saw a small smile creep onto his lips. He didn't inform her of this good news though, but tucked it into his pocket in his jacket.

"Why did you save me?" Hermione blurted, and Draco looked up slowly, his whole face calm and collected.

"Do I need a reason?" He asked, but the idea of the question didn't quite reach his eyes. There was that lingering hate that he held, for whatever reason, that held him back from being truly sincere.

"Yes." Hermione said, her fingers playing at the fraying material on her shirt, "I don't believe you, as a Slytherin, would do anything without expecting something else in return. Besides, Colin told me that whatever the reason was, I should hear it from you."

Draco's jaw twitched as he grit his teeth hard. He looked back to the Gryffindor's sleeping figure. "Is that so?" He asked airily.

"Yes."

"What else did he say?"

"Nothing much at all. He just wouldn't tell me why. I mean, he did tell me that you chose to save me, instead of him begging you to..." Hermione trailed off, suddenly shy and shocked she'd asked, "That you'd kill him if he told me, I'd 'understand'."

Draco dragged a hand down his face. "Merlin," was all he muttered.

"So?"

Hermione forced herself to be brave, looking at Draco with her head cocked, and her eyes searing into his skin.

Draco glared at Colin once more, but looked down to where the scroll was in his pocket.

"You're right. I do expect something in return." He said, and Hermione wasn't sure if she should be pleased she could read him so easily or disappointed, "Don't give me that look. It's not difficult." He added, and she dropped the expression from her face. She hadn't realized she'd been making one in the first place.

"Oh?"

"I need you to help me take down Pansy." Draco said, and came over to her bedside agin. This time, he sat on the ground, knees drawn up to his chest.

"Erm..." Hermione wasn't sure where her thoughts were taking her. Twelve different places at least, but which to follow?

"I know it sounds obvious, but-,"

"No, not really. You're the second smartest at Hogwarts, Draco. I don't understand why you can't just do it."

"Pansy's not someone to fuck around with. You didn't see yourself when I found you. She's dipping into dark magic more, and that's a most dangerous road, one where she just becomes darker and more deranged each day." Draco said sharply, angry, but not at her. He seemed almost angry at himself.

"I still got away though, sort of." She said, looking down at her wound, "I held my own, and I wasn't expecting a fight. You would."

"I took the Healer's Oath, Hermione." Draco bit his lip, "Before the games. I can't..." he threw his hands out, "I won't kill anyone."

"So I'm just your assassin for rent?" Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"No!" Draco said quickly, "I'd help you. I just can't be the one to finish it. I also have money, for anything during these games. Provisions. Safety. Medicine; you name it."

"Why me? Colin's not half bad, you know." Hermione said, trying to understand his motive. Getting him to talk right now was like- as her mother often said- pulling teeth.

"Not as good as you." Draco said, "She needs to be stopped, she cannot win. If we split up, she can pick us off easier. We have our best chance of survival if we team up with a goal to end her."

"I'm still not sure." Hermione rubbed her fingers together.

Draco pulled the scroll from his pocket and handed it to her. She unfurled it, and saw a list of names.

"It's the odds of winning. It's updated every day by my father, referenced by Rita's predictions, and the public's betting routine that they decide based on what the tributes do during the day."

"Pansy's the top." Hermione swallowed thickly.

"We both know that if she wins, no one else does. She's made that abundantly clear." Draco scoffed.

Next on the list was...her own name. Draco must have seen her face, because he gave a little smirk.

"You underestimate yourself. You basically died, and people still think you're the second-most formidable here. That says something huge."

Hermione didn't want to be second, no matter how comforting it was to imagine all these people rooting for her. It was putting a heavy weight on her shoulders. She glanced back down.

"You're third." She realized, seeing Draco's name right beneath hers, with only slightly smaller odds, but theirs were nearly tied as it was.

"You see my logic?"

"Yes." Hermione admitted begrudgingly, setting the scroll at her lap, "I suppose I owe you a life debt as it is, or something. You did save my life." She paused, "Thank you."

"I'm a healer, or might have been. It's...in my code." he said, but then looked unsure of himself, "And I did...want to." His eyes raged with conflict.

Hermione was about to question his unexpected hatred for her, but glanced back down at the scroll, curious to see quickly where Colin lay in the pecking order. She read the list once, and her hands started to shake. She read it four more times, still not understanding.

"What?" Draco's features sharpened, seeing her expression, "Is there a secret message?" He leaned forward, but saw nothing.

"No...there's a mistake." Hermione squeaked out, feeling as though this was a cruel practical joke that wasn't funny at all, "Someone on here's dead."

"Who?" Draco asked, examining it carefully.

"Hannah." Hermione choked out, feeling a tear slip away from her control, "She's dead. She died the night Ernie died, when Blaise and Corner attacked our camp. I got separated from Elizabeth, watched Hannah be bludgeoned by a rock, and somehow survived." She whispered.

Draco peered at her curiously, "Whatever you saw...it wasn't what you think."

"I know what I saw!" Hermione defended herself, "Do you think I wanted to imagine her death? She was my best friend here!"

"She's alive, Hermione." Draco said, and Hermione just stared at him with wide eyes. He cracked a grin, which she found awful given their conversation, "She found me, in bad shape, nearly dead, but still kicking. I saved her, unless you're telling the truth and I released a zombie back into the wild, but I'm 99.3% sure I didn't."

Hermione went slack-jawed, shaking her head, "Don't fuck with me, Malfoy-,"

"Hermione," Draco's eyebrows creased, the humor vanishing quickly, "I'm not. Hannah's alive."
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Comments: 4

pandasgirl26 [2017-07-18 03:14:51 +0000 UTC]

I completely loved this chapter. 
Partly because of the dramione conversation.
Partly because Hannah's not dead. I forget Hannah's blood status, but I think she's a half-blood, which means my hope for who comes out of this is: Pureblood: Draco
Half-Blood: Hannah
Mudblood (I don't like this term but I'm using it): Hermione, of course!

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FrostfootDreamleaf22 In reply to pandasgirl26 [2017-07-18 22:13:11 +0000 UTC]

I'm glad you liked it! It was a big exciting one for me to write, for sure. It felt so good to FINALLY get the Dramione in this story, moreso than just separate thoughts on the singular's part. And yes, Hannah is a half-blood. And you wouldn't have to say mudblood, you could just say muggle-born  

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lisastree [2015-11-13 01:38:04 +0000 UTC]

Basically my mind is screaming two names. One, in annoyance: "DDDDDDDDDDDDDRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!", the other in what the frickishness: "HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH??????????????????????????????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Lovely chapter again. Can't wait for the next one.

👍: 0 ⏩: 1

FrostfootDreamleaf22 In reply to lisastree [2015-11-13 05:56:28 +0000 UTC]

I got that reaction a lot in regards to this chapter  

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