We Both Go Down Together

I found you a tattooed tramp

A dirty daughter from the labor camp

I laid you down in the grass of a clearing

You wept but your soul was willing

Only five more days. That was it, and then, Draco could go home and sleep on a feather mattress and eat food that one could actually swallow. He would be a "free man" once again, able to take showers in his own expensive bathroom, not in the group "locker room" that all of the guards shared. Finally, the days of wearing a scratchy wool uniform were coming to a close. Thank Merlin for everything he ever stood for.

But part of Draco didn't want to go back to his father's estate, to live in the ever dimming glow of luxury all alone, and this was mostly because he had met Hermione. He had really met her. Actually-had-an-entire-conversation, actually-did-her-a-favor, considered-them-to-be-closet-friends, met her. And for some mind-boggling reason he didn't want to leave the camp, and the girl he had just started to befriend. The past couple of days had shown Hermione in a new light to Draco, and to tell the absolute truth, he liked that light better than the one he found at his father's manor.

As soon as Draco had run from Hermione's so-called living quarters, he had known one thing. She couldn't stay there. That house did nothing for her, except make her reputation shit. What had happened to Weasley? Wasn't he the one that was supposed to take care of her since Potter had died? Oh, that's right. As righteous as Weasley was, he was still a pureblood and hadn't been forced to become one of the many faceless people at the labor camp. So Hermione was all alone now, maybe once in a while coming across an old school acquaintance, but other than that she was alone. Just like Draco was. And maybe that was why he had taken pity on the frail woman and decided that he had to find her a better place to live.

So, Draco had found Hermione a new shack, not exactly a nicer one, but one filled with elderly woman who needed tending to. It was the best he could do without appearing to be a mudblood-lover. Hermione had realized what Draco had done for her, and accepted his offer to move her, a silent bond building between the two. In the past couple of days, Draco had seen more of Hermione than he would've liked, but this wasn't the past, and Draco wasn't the tortured, little schoolboy he had once been. He found himself being accompanied by Hermione on more and more of his shifts, being pulled into little alleyways where Hermione would stand waiting, wanting to hear news of what was going one, wanting to know what to tell her roommates. Draco came to find that he didn't mind Hermione's company in the least bit, and came to find that Hermione was just like any other human being, except that her bloodlines weren't as pure.

So Draco's surprise was imaginable, when he saw Hermione speeding off from the camp on the rainiest of days, mud encrusted bare feet pounding into the ground with each bound, curling, wet hair trailing behind her. A few of the other guards were yelling after her, summoning her back, trying to use spells to bring her back to the camp. But Hermione was too far gone, too far and much to close to the forest that could lead her to freedom.

"Malfoy, you're the youngest, you chase after the bitch! Bring her back to the station," and older, gray bearded guard had screamed to Draco. Draco knew what they would do at the station. They would kill her. Kill his Hermione, his new found friend. Any runaways were tied to a steel chair, Crucio'd a few times, and then Avada Kedavra'd quickly. Malfoy immediately took off, boots slamming into the wet ground as he followed Hermione into the forest. He was dodging tall oaks, jumping over fallen limbs, running around the various shrubs that littered the forest floor. Hermione was just up ahead, her long legs carrying her as quickly as they could. As fast as Hermione was, Draco had a good few inches on her height and was slightly faster.

The forest opened up to a clearing, and Hermione was right in front of Draco, right in his reach. Draco reached out, his hand grabbing onto Hermione's rain-slicked upper arm. What he didn't expect was for Hermione to try and pull away, but slipping on the wet grass, and tumbling to the ground of the clearing. Draco fell too, having had too strong of a grip on Hermione's arm, and the two tumbled together until the lay side by side, limbs still entangled with the others. While Draco was busy untangling himself from Hermione, he heard a slight whimper emanate from her. Draco stopped what he was doing and looked at Hermione; she was crying. Faint tears trickled down Hermione's smooth face, resembling tiny droplets of rain that were showering down from the gray clouded sky.

Draco did what any other human person would, he wrapped his arms around Hermione and pulled her over to him, letting her cry into his chest. Not realizing what a compromising situation he was putting himself in, Draco kissed the top of Hermione's soaked head, and murmured comforting words to her. And as odd as this position may seem, the rain still fell, the grass still grew, and the world never ceased turning.

"Draco," Hermione whispered timidly, as was uncommon for her, "Take me."

"E-Excuse me," Draco asked gently, wondering if maybe he had just heard Hermione's plea wrong, and she just meant for him to return her to the labor camp.

"I-I've never been with someone that I truly wanted. And I can't deny that I don't want you. You've been so great to me these past couple of days, what with getting me a new place to stay and actually listening to what I have to say. I've found a friend in you in the past week, and I want to be with you." Hermione looked up at Draco with red-rimmed eyed from crying, and he saw that her eyes were still swimming with tears. She had turned into a fragile person in the last couple of months that she had spent at the camp and at the moment she just needed something. Hermione desperately needed Draco, and she wasn't afraid to admit it.

So it was in that clearing that Hermione shared a moment that no one had ever given her before, and Draco found himself deeply, insanely, madly in love with Hermione Granger, a mudblood.