Hermione looked up sharply and found Malfoy staring down at her from the road. She was too tired and angry to even feel embarrassed about being found drunk and crying in a creek.
“Bugger off, Malfoy,” she said, smacking at the water with her hand so that it sprayed in his direction.
“Are you drunk?” he asked.
“No, you tosser, I am sitting in a creek entirely sober,” she said with an eye-roll. “Go away. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see your nasty face. If I could obliviate your existence from my mind without risking the Order, I'd do it in a heartbeat.”
She started crying again.
“Fucking hell,” he said, staring down at her with the same expression of irritation he'd had when he told her about the unwanted manticore he found himself in possession of.
“Granger, you cannot sit crying in a creek,” he finally said.
“I actually can,” she retorted. “Aside from you, there's no one to see. I already warded the area. None of the Muggles will come around or notice me. I have planned my emotional breakdown carefully and you are ruining it. So — bugger. Off.”
Her head felt very heavy, and she dropped it down onto her knees. It was growing very cold in the creek, but she was determined not to move until Malfoy went away.
There was a muffled thud, and then a hard grip suddenly closed around her arm, and she found herself being dragged up out of the water.
“Let go!”
She smacked Malfoy across the arm and kicked him in the shins as she attempted to wrench herself free.
“Leave me alone. You and Voldemort have ruined my life. Am I not even allowed to occasionally feel sad about it?”
“Granger, you idiot!”
Malfoy dragged her into his arms and apparated. They reappeared in the shack.
She stared around the room dazedly, clinging to him for balance.
“Why are we here?” she demanded, her voice wobbling as she stepped away and tried to draw herself up. “I hate this place. One of the richest wizarding families in all of Europe, and you make me come see you in this miserable house. As though I'm not already well-aware of the disdain you have for all of us Mudbloods. God, why didn't you just buy a whore house or a salt mine and make me visit you there?”
“I told you there was a taboo and you used the Dark Lord's name,” Malfoy snarled. “That is why you cannot get drunk in a fucking creek regardless of how many damn Muggle repelling charms you cast.”
Hermione blinked and stared at him.
“I hate you,” she finally said.
“The feeling is decidedly mutual,” he said, looking at her with an expression of disdain.
She dropped into a heap on the floor.
“I hate you so much,” she said. “I was already all alone — and then you demanded me and made it even worse. At least before — if anyone cared enough to ask me if I was alright I could tell the truth. But now — I can't even do that. And now — even if we win I won't have anything to look forward to. Everyone else will be free and I'll still be owned by you. I'm just going to be alone forever—”
She buried her face in her hands and cried afresh.
“Harry and Ron are never going to forgive me,” she said, and her whole body shook with the force of her sobs. “Even if this wins the war — they'll never forgive me.”
Her crying subsided slightly after several minutes.
“I'm really not clear on why you expect me to care.” Malfoy stared down at her with an indifferent expression.
She glared up at him. “You brought me here knowing that I was drunk. If you didn't want to hear about it, you could have just left me alone the way I repeatedly told you to. I don't see why you won't just fuck off.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“Hexing and swearing at me all in one day. It would seem I finally got to you. I wondered what it would take to make you give up your sweet caresses and tell me how you really felt.” His expression was taunting.
“Shut up!” she snarled before dropping her head onto her knees and hugging herself.
“But really — we're just scratching the surface, aren't we? Perhaps I should list everyone I've killed,” he said, stepping slowly around her with a malicious smile. “There were several Muggles first, practice runs before I went back to school. Aunt Bella said it was necessary to be used to killing before doing it to someone I actually knew. Then Dumbledore. And more Muggles. Did you know I was even assigned to find your parents? You must have hidden them yourself because there wasn't even a trace to be found. No sloppy details or secret goodbyes like many of those other Muggle-born families. Although, that ignorance still didn't spare your neighbors. Bella was crushed by how thorough you were.”
Hermione was staring at him in horror.