Unbidden Love Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Life in Solitude

It was a strange twist of fate that Hermione woke up the following morning in the same room as Draco Malfoy. Upon waking, she had squinted at the ceiling and studied her surroundings in a half-awake daze. It took her a few moments before she remembered where she was and how she had arrived there. There was no clock in the cabin, but Hermione judged by the rising sun that it was a few hours past dawn.

Draco was sitting at the small table reading an unidentifiable book while he chewed ideally on his breakfast of a mushy bowl of porridge.

His eyes slowly strayed to her once she had perched herself on the edge of the twin bed.

“Good morning,” he murmured quickly before turning back to his book. His hasty words proved that he wasn’t used to politeness around someone like her, a past rival.

But Hermione was determined to make this “holiday” as comfortable as possible, so she knew she had to get used to being on good terms with Draco Malfoy. Whatever “on good terms” meant when it referred to a relationship with a Neo-Death Eater.

Or Ex-Neo-Death Eater. She still wasn’t sure what to believe. She decided to withhold judgment until the last possible moment.

“Good morning,” she responded with a little too much perkiness, bounding up to study his meal more closely. “Where did you get that? I thought we’d be eating tree bark and slugs the whole time.”

Malfoy ignored her humour and replied coldly, “I’d rather kill you than suffer like that, Granger. I prepared a few items before bringing you here so that we wouldn’t suffer physically as well as socially.”

Hermione groaned and sat across from him at the table. “Malfoy, if you’re determined to do the right thing and keep me away from harm, the least you could do is act respectably and talk to me like a normal human being. We’re both going to suffer more if we’re glaring at each other and muttering under our breaths the entire time.”

“That statement requires a glare itself,” Malfoy told her with a sly grin. “But I admit that I’d rather save my hostility for more appropriate times. Believe it or not, it wears on me to act superior to you all the time when you’re so stubborn and defiant.”

Hermione smiled, taking his words as a compliment. “Then don’t. Pretend I’m just a random peer of yours who had the unfortunate luck of being assigned a cabin with you. We’ll be cordial to each other but nothing more or less.”

“Fine,” Draco huffed. “Cordial, though I refuse to up that a notch and become gracious. Taking you here is the only favour I’m giving you; the rest of your survival is up to you.”

Although his words were harsh, Hermione had expected nothing less from him. His personality hadn’t done a 360, after all. She wasn’t expecting him to wash her feet, rub her back, or even prepare food for her.

“Where then, Mr. Cordial, do I find the supplies to prepare myself some food?”

He jerked his thumb behind him near the fireplace. “There’s some bottled water, dishes, porridge, etcetera behind me. Use the water carefully, though; we don’t have more than a week’s supply. Luckily, there’s a stream up behind the cabin in the woods that supposedly holds fresh water. We’ll have to use that when our own runs out.”

Hermione silently applauded him for his preparation. He must have scoured the area for quite awhile if he knew where everything was located. At least they weren’t trapped alone in a cabin where nothing could be used to assist them in their survival.

“What’s the plan for today, then?” she questioned him on a whim. “Are we going to go hiking or fishing first?”

This time, Hermione almost laughed at the unblinking glare he sent her. For some reason, she no longer felt intimidated or weary around him. In her prison, she had been a little terrified of the power he held over her, but now it appeared that they were almost equals. They were both fighting toward the same goal.

“How many times do I have to explain to you that this is not a holiday?” Draco hissed. “I’d rather be fighting off polar bears in Antarctica than be trapped in the woods with you. And if it’s escaped your notice, Granger, I despise the outdoors. I don’t find dirt, worms, and birds comforting in the least. And if you try to drag me into any such activity, I will gladly take my bed back and throw you out in the dirt. Is that clear?”

“Fine, then,” Hermione huffed. “I’ll catch the fish and you can cook them.”

Draco just shook his head in disbelief, his gaze back on his book. Hermione wanted to ask what he was so carefully reading, but she knew she had spoken to him too much already that morning. She figured Malfoy didn’t want to spend more than 1/3 of each day in conversation.

After mixing together a soggy paper bowl of porridge and forcing it down, Hermione decided to explore their surroundings a bit more. She found the glade the cabin was situated in rather peaceful and serene. If she listened closely, she could discern the tinkling of a stream or pond farther back in the woods. The grass was high and tickled her ankles, but Hermione was never known for being an indoor girl. She kicked her trainers off and strolled barefoot around the glade, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh grass, pines, and smoke from the cabin’s chimney. Her insides calmed and not a fear entered her mind.

Hermione found herself forgetting that this wasn’t a holiday. She hardly felt like a captive or victim like she had been at the Neo-Death Eaters’ hide-out. And despite Malfoy’s cold attitude toward her, she knew that their time spent here would not be unbearable.

Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed to think otherwise.

“What the hell are you doing, Granger?”

Hermione peered up quizzically at Draco as she finished tying a piece of sturdy string to a long, dark stick.

“Did you hear nothing of what I told you earlier?” she asked haughtily. “I’m going fishing. Or did you forget that you had brought some household items into the cabin? Some string and a hook are enough to at least attempt to fish.”

Draco shook his head with a sigh. “I almost forgot that you grew up in a Mudblood world. You probably have spent half your life doing things without magic. At least I know you’ll have a strategy if a roaming bear decides to investigate our campsite.”

Hermione concentrated on fastening the hook to the end of the string. If Draco was expecting undivided attention from her for the snide, offensive comments he made, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

Draco did, in fact, look a little ticked off when she properly ignored him and headed with her fishing gear into the woods. “Well, then,” he cried out at her retreating back. “I’ll just wait for my lunch over here. If you get into trouble, cry out or something and I’ll consider helping you if I’m not preoccupied.”

Hermione chuckled under her breath as she drew near the spring Draco had mentioned earlier. She enjoyed a snubbed Draco so much better than a supercilious one. It was time he felt what it was like to be on equal footing with another. There didn’t always have to be a leader and a follower in every social situation.

But her mood was dampened by the slow progress she was making with her homemade fishing rod. The forest was so calm that the bubbling of the creek was enhanced tenfold. Hermione glimpsed a sparrow fluttering from branch to branch, and its careful movements fascinated her for awhile. When her bird began to get badgered by a neighbour, she forgot her task and watched the birds peck at each other.

“No!”

Her jaw dropped when she saw her rod floating down the stream and banging against the rocks. She realized too late that it had slipped out of her fingers when her attention had been diverted by the birds.

Rolling the bottoms of her jeans up, she prepared herself to enter the cold water to rescue her rod. Luckily, the stick had gotten trapped between two boulders and rested only a few feet away.

Thank goodness the stream is shallow and narrow! she thought as she dipped her toes hesitantly into the water.

She shrieked as the icy water licked her bare skin. The creek seemed to be dozens of degrees cooler than the air, which made her task even more uncomfortable.

Come on, Hermione; it’s just water! Just jump in and jump out. You do want to eat after all, right?

She took a deep breath before jumping in with both feet. The creek went up past her knees, and she bit down on her tongue hard to keep herself from crying out again. The rocks on the bottom were jagged and rough, but Hermione tried to focus on the distance between her and her rod instead. She took one, two, then three large steps and had almost reached her prize when…

“AHHH!”

A slimy rock knocked her off balance, and she went tumbling backwards into the water. Her head went under as she desperately tried to pull herself up. But the creek’s rapid movement was pushing her downstream, and she felt herself being tossed in a million different directions as her body became weightless in the water.

Hermione’s lungs burned with pain as the last bit of air left her, and she frantically kicked with her arms and legs, trying and failing to find something to cling onto. The world around her became gloomy and vague as her vision blurred with the movement of the water. She became dizzy and disoriented, not knowing which way was up and which was down.

The thought of giving up had just come into her mind when something from outside grabbed her around the middle and hauled her out of the water. Hermione let out a sputtering gasp as her lungs frantically took in fresh air. She was laid on solid ground and instantly collapsed, coughing and choking on the water remaining in her lungs. She hadn’t realized she had breathed in so much!

It took her several minutes to figure out that she was going to survive. Her head spun as she glanced up at the figure hovering above her weak body. The sun’s light bounced off his pale skin, and soon she noticed that Draco Malfoy was soaked to the core. His soggy t-shirt clung to his chest, its material now so transparent she could make out his nipples and abs. His blond hair was drooped over his brow and sprayed droplets of water onto his face. But Malfoy ignored all this as he knelt down to her and asked, “Are you alright?”

It took her awhile to comprehend his words. “Y..yes. Yes, I’m fine,” she stuttered, her teeth beginning to chatter as the air whipped through her wet clothes. “How did you…why did you…”

Draco smiled a little awkwardly. “I heard you shriek and decided it wasn’t safe for you to be out here on your own. I had just found you when you fell in, and thankfully the water wasn’t moving fast enough for me to lose you. You were under for a good minute, though.”

He could have been Ron, Hermione realized with a shudder. Ron would have done the same thing for her – he would have rescued her and then stayed by her side until he was sure she was okay. And in his place was Draco Malfoy, a man she suddenly realized she didn’t know at all. A man who had not only saved her from death, but had shown concern for her well being and – probably for the first time in history – had not made any snide remarks about her pathetic state.

Hermione had no words for him as she stared into his grey eyes, his own holding deep compassion. Yes, there was compassion there. She had seen it often enough in others to recognize its true form.

“Let’s get you back into the cabin before you freeze,” Draco murmured as he lifted her effortlessly off the ground and into his arms. Hermione laid her head onto his chest and closed her eyes in pure exhaustion. There was too much to think about, too much she had to analyze.

No, she thought hastily as he carried her through the cabin door and laid her delicately on her bed. No, it’s not that hard to figure out. I’ve denied the truth for too long already; it’s time to accept what’s in front of me.

Draco Malfoy is not a Neo-Death Eater.