They appeared in a forest in a whirl of anger and harsh expletives. Draco stumbled and dropped his wand when a sharp jab to his spleen came out of nowhere. Hermione staggered away from him, clutching at her side where it looked like she had been carved at by someone blind. Draco stood up and took a step forward, only to fall to his knees and retch when Hermione turned away from him and he got a full view of what her ribcage looked like. The jagged wound wept blood, the red blooming down her jeans, staining her socks and shoes and leaves underfoot.

"Granger-" Draco rolled to his right to avoid the swing of her foot as she kicked out at his face. "Stop it, you stupid bint, you've been splinched!" She snarled at him and kicked again. He grabbed her ankle and pulled and she fell next to him.

"Let go!" She writhed as he pulled himself up on top of her to try and pin her.

"I swear to the founders, Granger, stop fucking moving!" Her knee connected to his groin and he grunted in pain. One hand clasped her throat, pinning her to the forest floor, the other frantically patting the ground to find his wand as his eyes watered from pain.

Hermione spat up into his face as his fingers curled around his blackthorn wand. "Agh, fuck." Draco brought his wand up and jabbed the tip into her temple. "Behave, Granger."

"Fuck you." Her wand jabbed in between his ribs.

Draco faltered ever so slightly and it was enough for her to hook her leg around his hip and flip them over. She scrambled away from him and mumbled a spell that was unintelligible and thick roots shot out of the ground and began winding their way across his body. "Granger- ack", he coughed as she swung her foot into his side.

"Oh, Draco." Hermione hummed something tuneless and hollow, fingers gently exploring the wound on her side as she backed away from him. "Did you really think I was going to come quietly? Not my style, really." Her hand came away crimson and she tutted at it.

Draco watched her pull a small beaded bag out of her sock, his mouth hanging slightly open, as Hermione upended the contents in search of medical potions. He tested the bindings around his limbs, and choked when they cinched tighter. "I wouldn't struggle if I were you." Hermione had found her supply of dittany, and was dabbing around and onto her wound. The flesh sizzled and her face scrunched up in pain.

"Granger." Draco wheezed, "please." She spared him a glance, her eyes still feverish from battle.

"Shut up, Malfoy, I'm trying to concentrate." Draco had to look away as her skin began knitting itself together and the shocking white of bone began to disappear under new layers of muscle and skin. A bottle clinked as she went back to her bottomless bag and continued searching. "Quite foolish of you really, to think you could grab hold of me like that." Draco coughed and gasped, trying to avoid the tightening tendrils of vine fastened across his chest. "Hm, no. I had no intention of dying today. So much for a clean exit, though. You bungled that for me rather spectacularly." She downed a bottle of blood replenishing potion, and watched Draco with a level stare. "So, that brings me to my current predicament. What do I do with you?"

Hermione waved her wand almost absentmindedly and her bag began repacking itself with gentle clinks. She leaned back against a tree trunk, still watching Draco, she seemed to be searching for something in his face.

"I can help you, protect you." Draco managed to say, the restraints becoming still tighter.

Hermione stood upright and walked over to where he lay. "Finite." Draco stopped struggling immediately. She straddled him and slowly lowered herself until she was pinning him to the ground, her knees grinding into his shoulders, her weight balanced on his chest. Hermione held her wand fondly, her skeletal fingers caressing the polished wood as she traced the lines of Draco's face with the tip.

He shuddered as residual magic gently sparked against his skin. "Granger." He whispered, staring up into her feral gaze, trying not to lose his head as a monumental panic was starting to seep into his bones, coiling its way up his spine.

"Legilimens."

Draco hadn't been home to Malfoy Manor in three long weeks. There was the urge to avoid the reigning manifestation of terror that was the Dark Lord, but the main reason for his current whereabouts was the progressively frustrating search for Hermione Granger.

The only thing that had been in that forest clearing when Draco had woken seven months ago had been a crumpled ball of parchment on his chest. He'd had a terrible ringing in his ears, and his head felt like he had been scooped at with a blunt spoon. Granger had gotten inside his head and left it in tatters, an inexperienced Legilimens indeed. The parchment was kept safe in a hidden pocket in his favorite cloak, draped now over the back of his chair in the dingy pub somewhere in the northern moors.

Draco knocked back the dregs of his Ogden's finest before pulling out the parchment. Igitur qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum. The cramped writing was neat, and had a flourish to it that was distinctly Granger. The parchment itself was worn, the ink fading from Draco's repeated obsession over it. But the trace of magic was still there, and it pulled at him. Whatever Granger had seen in his head had led her to leave a thread for him. And Draco was certain it would lead him to her, as certain as he was that the Dark Lord would punish him dearly for showing up empty handed yet again.

A tankard slid onto his table, a shadow in front of him, "Sulking again, Drake?"

"Theo, if you were half as good at finding Granger as you were at finding me, you might actually be worth something." Draco leaned back in his chair as his friend draped himself into the other.

Theodore Nott was not, as far as Death Eaters go, a bad man. His talents were much more refined to the arts of numbers and books, and the Dark Lord appreciated his efficient research. Theo was constantly supplying their master with new and increasingly inventive methods of chaos.

Theo, however, was Draco's only true remaining friend in the world, and the only one who seemed to be able to track Draco down whenever he wished. A knack that irritated Draco to no end.

"Your mother sends her regards." Theo tapped his fingers against the table, ignoring the jibe.

Draco grimaced, "She never just sends her regards. No howler this time?"

Theo grinned at him, "No, but I'd hoped." He glanced around the pub before sliding a scrap of paper across the table. "Granger isn't in the North anymore, mate. She's been sighted on the continent."

Draco groaned and considered just killing himself to save the Dark Lord the trouble. "And what's this for?" He nodded at the note sitting between them.

"It's a list. Of every place Granger has been sighted in the past few months, and it includes several of my predictions about where she'll be next."

Draco looked up at that. Far from looking smug, as Theo was wont to do when his research paid off, his friend looked faintly concerned. "Bullshit. Her movements have been erratic."

Theo sighed, "According to your weird psycho obsession with her. But if I listen to the sightings made by senior Death Eaters in the field and ones made by sympathizers, there is a definite pattern and it is leading somewhere important."

Draco made an affronted noise and took a gulp of the warm beer from Theo's tankard. "Those are decoys. She's smart enough to play us to where she wants us." He picked up the list and skimmed through it. "Why would she be in wizarding Paris next? That's suicide."

Theo's glare was scathing, "She's not the good little bookworm you idolize anymore. We caught Loony Lovegood in a raid last week and she confirmed Granger's gone around the bend, well as best a confirmation as you can get from her." He grabbed his tankard back from Draco's grip and took a swig. "Apparently the Order has no control over Granger's movements anymore. They just hope she doesn't lead us to a safehouse."

Draco glanced up at Theo. "Lovegood, huh?"

"Shut it." Theo scowled and gulped down more of his beer.

Draco smirked and went back the list. "Theo, if Granger's gone rogue then her movements wouldn't be this purposeful."

"I know." Theo set his empty tankard down with a gentle thump. "But it is not my place to dispute the evidence the Dark Lord wants to see. Granger is not in the North anymore. Do you understand?" With that, Theo made to leave. "Oh, and Luna sends her regards." Then he was gone.

Draco sighed and made to gather up his cloak. He folded the list and tucked it around Granger's note, before securing it in his pocket. He dropped some galleons on the table and left the pub, shielding his face against the rain with a hand. "Shite." Draco felt the familiar pull from within his chest, and clenched his hand around his wand. He spun, and with a sharp crack, the sleepy town was empty again.

A/N

What a fucking bad author I am, six months and no update. Excuses? Yeah, depression, anxiety, graduation, moving to Australia, no internet. But now let's get back into the swing of things shall we? My writer's block has lifted, and I have a way to access the wonderful realm of computers, so here's to a slew of updates hopefully in the near future. Love from Qld, Aus.

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Igitur qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum- Therefore whoever desires peace, let him prepare for war. Latin adage from a statement found in Publius Flavius Vegetius Renatus' tract De Re Militari.