A/N: Thanks for your patience and continued support! It means the world to me! Also, I post little previews of chapters/stories on Tumblr, just for fun! I like to show that I'm still hard at work writing in the days between updates here. It's also the best place to ask questions as I usually hop on there at least once a day. Also, I'm very much in debt to Frogster for catching all of my silly mistakes! Thank you!

This is a slow chapter but I thought it would be nice to switch to Hermione's POV for a little while. Events pick up again in the next chapter, promise. Please enjoy!

Chapter Five

The huge wings beat hard as the dragon clawed its way higher and higher into the sky. Up and up and up until they were plunging through wispy clouds. Hermione clutched at the scales beneath her, tears streaming from her eyes as London dropped away. Fear—pure terror, in fact—helped her keep her grip as her hands and legs began to ache with the strain.

To her left, close to her ear, someone started laughing, an exhilarated whooping laugh of joy and disbelief. Clearly one of her companions had gone absolutely bonkers. Though she'd squeezed her eyes shut in panic, she managed a quick peek to see which one of the boys was laughing. Ron, probably; he loved thrills. Perhaps that was a side-effect of growing up with Fred and George Weasley.

But it wasn't Ron laughing, or Harry. It was Malfoy.

She stared, her astonishment leaking through her terror for a moment. In all of their years at Hogwarts, she didn't think she'd ever seen him like this. For once, all the haughty smugness, all of the sneers, all of the terror and worry were gone. He was just a boy, laughing at the sheer improbability of their predicament. His face was wide open, shining with the joy of being so high on the back of a dragon.

"You're mad," she groaned, trying to plaster herself even tighter to the beast's back. His only response was a quick glance her way with dancing grey eyes. He didn't even bother to sneer at her obvious dread. She would remember later how handsome he was that way, all scratched and burned and disheveled, all filled with a childish exhilaration. It was a thought that would stun her more than anyone, though it wouldn't occur to her for a while. For now, she was too scared to think much of anything. For now, all she could do was hope that soon—very, very soon—the dragon would land and they could somehow get away.

Her hopes weren't granted. They flew on and on, and when the dragon needed to rest they coasted on thermals. The wings made subtle cracking sounds as they filled with the updrafts, reminding her of boat sails. Eventually, she managed to set aside her fear for a brief moment and examine those wings and how, with the barest flick of a muscle, they were redirected. She wondered how the dragon was navigating, or what it was searching for. Could it smell whatever it was it wanted, even from all the way up here? Or was it operating on pure instinct?

There was so much she didn't know yet.

"What do you reckon it's looking for?" she heard Ron yell, echoing her thoughts.

"No idea!" Harry's knuckles were white with cold and the strain of keeping himself anchored to the dragon's back. He glanced toward the sun, which had definitely slipped lower in the sky on this insane journey. Then he chanced a glance down. Hermione doubted he'd spot a recognizable landmark from way up here: everything below was patchwork, and they were moving north so quickly.

Malfoy's laughter had died down a while ago, and while he too was holding tight to the animal beneath him, the wild ride and the terrifying heights didn't seem to bother him very much. He also glanced down and then shrugged when he saw nothing he recognized.

"We'd better hope this thing doesn't take us out over the ocean!" he yelled. Hermione groaned as her stomach gave a sickening lurch. He shot her an amused glance and she stuck her tongue out at him, not daring to raise her hand to flash him a 'V.' The pureblood prat probably wouldn't understand what it meant anyway.

They flew on in silence for a while longer as the sun dropped toward the horizon. Finally, when Hermione was beginning to think she'd be permanently frozen to the dragon's scales, Ron noticed a drop in their altitude. He had watched her with sympathy, knowing how much she hated flying in any fashion but unable to comfort her from his own precarious perch. He flashed her a hopeful smile and she tried to return it, although it lacked any sort of conviction. Terror and cold had sapped any happy feelings out of her, although the churning in her stomach did seem to lessen at his pronouncement.

A moment later, he was proven correct as the dragon began to spiral gently down toward the lakes below. Huge circles became tighter and tighter until they were clearly headed for the smallest lake. The great beast was thirsty at last. Hermione could have cried with relief. That is, until she heard Harry's next suggestion.

"I say we jump when it gets low enough!" he yelled. "Straight into the water before it realizes we're here and it's hungry!"

Ron and Malfoy shouted their agreement, but Hermione lost her voice entirely. Jump? Off of the back of a dragon? All of them twisted to look at her and she must have managed some sort of agreement to this absolutely lunatic plan, but as they dropped closer to the water she doubted very much she'd be able to do it. Lower—they were a rushing shadow over the surface of the water. Lower—they were a yellowish blur on the waves. Lower—they could make out the reflection of the dragon's belly scales as its wings adjusted to slow it down.

"NOW" Harry bellowed, and he and Ron slipped over opposite sides of the dragon and plunged into the lake below. Hermione watched them hit the surface and disappear, their splashes already far behind as the dragon dipped its head low to drink. She struggled to release her grip, to follow her friends, but her limbs were slow to obey. She managed to get one hand off of the dragon's back when Malfoy grasped her other arm. Holding it in an iron grip, he pulled them both off of the dragon and into the lake below.

"Merlin, Granger, what were you waiting for?" Malfoy snapped after she'd surfaced and began sucking in huge gasps of air. "Or did you fancy becoming that great worm's lunch?"

"I was doing just fine on my own!" she shouted back, furious with herself for allowing him to see how scared she'd been up there. "What were you waiting for?!"

"Call me crazy, but after saving you once I didn't much fancy watching you wreck all my hard work by getting killed a few weeks later!" He was glaring at her, looking for all the world like an angry, half-drowned cat as he bobbed in the lake's gentle waves.

"Oh, stuff it, would you?" she retorted, splashing him a little to vent her frustration. She didn't have the energy to have a shouting match with him. It was, after all, quite a long swim to shore. He growled and splashed her back before setting off with long, perfect breast strokes. Harry and Ron were already nearly to the shore themselves, and steeling herself against her exhaustion, Hermione followed their lead.

As she got close, Ron slogged back into the water to help her the last few feet. She was grateful for it: the reeds and mud were sapping the last of her strength quickly. He gave her hand a squeeze as they trudged onto the sandy beach and she offered him a little smile of thanks. He was a good friend and for so long they'd lingered on the edges of something more, but…though she'd been euphoric at his return, she wasn't sure she'd completely forgiven him for leaving her and Harry with the locket yet.

She didn't know why she couldn't let it go, but she was hoping she'd be able to soon. In the meantime, she was wary of giving him any encouragement that her feelings were more than what they were. They had too many other worries. Though she knew she should snatch whatever sweetness was left in these dark days, she just couldn't bring herself to lead Ron on when she wasn't sure how she felt herself.

He watched her for a second, always more perceptive than people gave him credit for, and then he gently released her hand. She saw his eyes flit to Malfoy, and then he took his place at Harry's side. Harry, meanwhile, was casting the normal protective spells they always weaved, sounding as though he'd love nothing more than to collapse and sleep.

While Harry busied himself with their protective spells, Hermione rummaged through her little beaded bag and produced a small bottle of essence of dittany. All four of them were the worse for wear after their escape from Gringotts and they took turns dabbing the dittany on various wounds and burns. Next came pumpkin juice and fresh clothes. All of them were absorbing the events that had just transpired, not least of which was the loss of Gryffindor's sword. Hufflepuff's goblet seemed to mock them for the loss; without that blade, it was all but invincible for the time being. After only recently being rid of the locket, the idea of hauling around the cup was depressing.

Worse, the fact that Voldemort would soon know exactly what they were up to was also sinking in. There was no way a break-in like that would escape notice, perhaps even now the Dark Lord was discovering that the Lestrange vault had been robbed and that they'd run for it on the back of a dragon—

Hermione shook those thoughts away. There was nothing they could do about that now. Instead, desperate for a way to distract herself, she unpacked the tent and pitched it right there on the beach. She and the others crawled inside and Ron groaned in appreciation as the warmth began to seep into his frozen limbs. This tent wasn't as big as their last one, but it smelled better and had touches of Fleur's refined tastes. Harry sank right onto the thick carpets covering the floor and Ron pitched himself onto a reclining chair that looked as though it had been a favorite of Bill's. Though there was a separate (and beautiful) bedroom off of the living room and it was clear that all three boys expected her to avail herself of it, Hermione found she didn't want to be alone. Instead she dragged out the pillows and blankets, passed them out, and curled up on the couch. Harry had lit a fire in the fireplace, scooting closer as its warmth permeated the small space. Malfoy hesitated, casting a somewhat longing glance at the bedroom where there was no doubt a bed, but then he settled into the carpets with a sheet.

They all desperately needed the rest.

Hermione didn't remember falling asleep. All she remembered was the feeling of absolute despair, as if someone was ripping her apart but slowly, and she knew she was doomed and so were the people she loved but she was helpless to stop it—she couldn't even get enough breath to scream—

Her eyes snapped open as she jerked into a sitting position. Her chest was heaving and there were tears on her cheeks. Ron and Harry were also tossing and turning, lost in their own dreams, and she was grateful she hadn't been loud enough to wake them. She didn't want to worry them, didn't want them to think she was cracking at the seams...that this was all too much...

"How long?" a drawling voice asked, and her eyes shot down to the source. Malfoy was stretched out on the ground, his hands tucked behind his bed as he considered the faux ceiling above him.

"Excuse me?" she asked, her voice wavering.

"The nightmares. How long have they been back?"

Her cheeks went rosy in the flickering firelight. "They never left."

He nodded, still not looking at her. "I'd thought, perhaps, that they'd abated while we were at the cottage. Lovegood never mentioned them."

"I asked her not to." She pulled her blankets closer, waiting for a sneer or a snide comment. Malfoy just nodded again, considering her answer silently. His eyes were half-lidded and tired. He hadn't slept much either, if at all.

"Is it...are you dreaming of...?" His voice faltered.

"The drawing room," she confirmed, and he looked at her at last. "And...well, pretending to be Bellatrix didn't help."

"'I'm sorry' doesn't seem adequate," he murmured, and though his tone was light she could see the guilty suffering in his gaze.

"It isn't. Not really."

He nodded again and turned his eyes away once more, but she reached out and touched his elbow.

"Thank you anyway."

The silence stretched between them after that, both still a little wary of their unexpected truce. Both of them needed sleep, they were rapidly running out of time on this Horcrux hunt and Hermione expected that when they left this tent in the morning, it would be a long time before they could rest again.

"I'm sorry," Malfoy said suddenly, apparently having decided he needed to say the words in spite of their inadequacy. His voice was low and broken, and shocked by the open emotion in it, she looked at him. His face was twisted with regret. "I'm sorry for tormenting you in school. I'm sorry for calling you...well, you know what I called you."

"Malfoy..." She didn't know what to say. She couldn't tell him it was okay because it wasn't, it wasn't okay by a long shot, but she didn't want to spurn his apologies either.

"I mean it. I'm sorry."

She hesitated. "I know you mean it. Thank you for saying it."

He snorted. "Words. From me they mean less than nothing."

He turned away from her and she rolled on her back and closed her eyes. "But they aren't just words, are they? You got me out of the Manor."

He let out a long breath and didn't reply. Silence fell, and then stretched, and the exhaustion crept up over her. She went to sleep with the distinct impression that he didn't feel rescuing her was apology enough.

All three of them were rudely yanked from slumber when Harry began shouting barely two hours later. He was rolling around on the floor, gripping his head, and no amount of shaking could rouse him. They could only watch, pale and frightened, as he endured the painful trance.

When Harry finally came to, he was the bearer of the worst possible news: Voldemort knew they were after his Horcruxes and if they didn't act quickly, the one that was hidden in Hogwarts was likely going to be moved out of their grasp. Ron and Harry exchanged a dark look and Hermione felt as if a cold hand had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart. Malfoy reacted even worse than she did to the announcement that they needed to get to Hogwarts right now.

"You're having a laugh," he said in a very dangerous, flat tone. "At least, you'd better be having a laugh."

"I'm not," Harry replied. His face might have been carved in stone. His normally bright green eyes were dull and exhausted, but determined. "If he moves it out of Hogwarts, we may never find it again."

"You found the others."

"Actually, all three of them had already been found. And I still don't have any idea what the last one is. Come on, Malfoy. We're wasting time."

"You're going to get us all killed." Malfoy narrowed his eyes at his rival. "We're walking right into his hands if we go to Hogwarts. You may as well Avada yourself."

"You wanted to help, you demanded we bring you along. You don't have anywhere else to go!" Harry's voice was ragged. He had no patience left. "If you want him dead, this is the only way to do it."

Malfoy opened his mouth and then closed it with a snap. Any lingering euphoria from their narrow escape had gone, and so had his previous softness with Hermione. He looked bitter and afraid again. After a moment, he gave an angry nod and turned away from Harry. It was clear he did not expect them to be at liberty—or even alive—by sunrise, but he didn't argue further. And though Hermione voiced a few objections of her own while she packed the tent back into the bag, there was really nothing for it.

"It'll be okay, 'Mione," Ron said to her quietly. "They won't be expecting us."

But she thought he was very, very wrong about that. Perhaps the Death Eaters wouldn't have expected them before they'd broken into Gringotts, but now? Now they might as well be waving a neon sign above their heads.

Harry wrapped them all as best he could in the invisibility cloak and, with one final round of grim looks, they turned and Disapparated.

A/N: I know that in Deathly Hallows, they don't get a chance to rest but instead head directly for Hogsmeade. I added a short rest (about four hours total, so that it's still nighttime when they arrive in Hogsmeade) in order to give Hermione and Draco a scene together. I hope you liked it!