"When you said you had a place in mind," Draco looked at the building in front of him with badly masked distaste, "I didn't know you meant The Frog on a Bike."

"It's the only place I could find which required less than what I have with me," Hermione frowned, "it's not much, but it's something."

"It's The Frog. On a Bike." he raised his eyebrows at her, waiting for her to change her mind about it. 

It looked like a terrible place for anyone to want to live in. The building was made of white and grey brick, however the white looked grey as well because of how dusty it was. A lamp hung from a rusty iron bracket, it's glass so filthy you could barely see the light flickering dimly inside it. It was two floors high, but very narrow. The door had stained glass panels in the wood, which was perhaps the only pretty thing of the whole place. The wooden sign above the door had an engraving of a frog wearing a tailcoat and hat, seated on an old fashioned bicycle. 

"Oh come on," Hermione huffed and grabbed his arm, and they walked inside. 

Inside wasn't much better. Draco restrained himself, and curbed his instinct to sneer immediately.

The tables were made of dark wood, with four or three chairs to match. The bar counter had several large bottles placed on it, and upturned glasses. The cash register was on a table beside it. The wall behind the bar counter had a wooden plank, with a fake stuffed boar head on it. The yellow lights were of very little power. Most of the things had a thick layer of dust over it, except the chair seats.

"How may I help you?" 

They both turned toward the bar counter. An aged man was sat on a stool, his red checkered shirt visible under his dirty apron. His hair grew in a rim around his head, and was brown and whispy. His beady eyes scanned Draco and Hermione, lingering for longer than required on Hermione. She glared back defiantly. His round face showed signs of amusement.

"Got yourself a real looker, mate," the man commented to Draco, "any bloke would pay anything to get their hands on her."

Draco balled his fists. Hermione noticed his action, and placed a hand on his chest, holding him back. She gave him a look that said 'let me handle him'. Draco's nostrils flared in his rage, but he listened. 

"I don't think there are many others with your way of thinking, but I suppose you've got friends in low places," Hermione said sweetly, "Mister…?"

"Fernest," the man said through gritted teeth, all traces of amusement gone.

"Wonderful," Hermione said coldly, "if you've got a place to offer for a few days, we'll be glad and thankful. If not, we will leave."

"I may have a room," Fernest grumbled.

"Good," Hermione walked forward and placed a few notes of currency on the counter, "how many days can we stay here with this much?"

The man greedily eyed the money under Hermione's palm. He licked his lips, thinking, then nodded to himself, "Throw in a hundred more and I'll give you five days."

Hermione scowled. What she had offered was nearly everything she had left after they had bought their sparse groceries to last them a few days. Looking at Hermione's hesitance, the man grinned, happy to have gotten one over her. 

"Fine," she muttered, adding another note to the rest. The man snatched the money from her hand and shoved it into his cash register.

"Henry!" Fernest called over his shoulder, "Come take them to the spare room, will you?"

There was no response.

"Henry!" his voice boomed through the place.

"I'm here, I'm here," another man, Henry, stepped out from a side door.

"Napping again?" Fernest asked, sneering, "I would fire you if it wouldn't have been for your mother."

"Believe me, I have no desire to be here either, but I need the money," Henry snarked back. Fernest's face turned several shades of pink and purple. Henry smirked and turned to Hermione and Draco, "Come on, follow me."

Hermione looked uncertainly at Draco. He seemed just as hesitant as she was, but they followed Henry to the back of the tavern. He opened a narrow doorway that led to an equally narrow staircase. The wood was old and dusty, and creaked and groaned in protest at their heavy footsteps. The landing opened into a dimly lit corridor, and they walked down it to the end. They came to a stop in front of a coarse grained wooden door.  Henry grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. It opened with a click and a sigh

"There you are," Henry said, gesturing into the room. Hermione peered in. Draco's nose scrunched up in dissatisfaction. 

"Thank you, Henry," Hermione said graciously. 

The doorway was wide enough that two people could pass through it with no trouble, but Henry made sure to brush his shoulders against Hermione's on his way out. Hermione noticed Draco's jaw clench out of the corner of her eye. She closed the door and locked it. Draco was scowling deeply.

"What?" she asked, placing her beaded bag on the bedside table with a loud thump. The contents rattled about I side it.

"Next time, turn yourself into someone less attractive," Draco muttered, nearly inaudibly.

"Why so?" Hermione didn't want to rile him up, but seeing him flustered was kind of entertaining.

"Because," he said, raising his eyebrows, "you draw unnecessary attention."

"Aren't you forgetting the fact that some girls made it a point to walk next to you even though there was plenty of space on the sidewalk?" Hermione returned.

"Next time Fernest or Henry say or do anything that even remotely berates you," Draco said gravely, "I won't stay quiet, and even you won't be able to stop me."

"I can take care of myself Draco, but I appreciate your concern," Hermione said.

"I appreciate that you appreciate my concern, but I'm not joking," Draco was still very serious. 

"Revelio."

Hermione watched as he turned into himself, then repeated the incantation while pointing her wand at herself.

"Wash up if you want," Hermione said, "I'll go after you."

Draco nodded and headed to the door in the room, which they had assumed was the bathroom. He came running out, horrorstruck.

"I'm not going in there," he said disgustedly, "muggles are disgusting."

Hermione grimaced. It was true, the smell drifted out and infiltrated the room. She immediately shut the door and opened the only window, then proceeded to cast a cleaning charm over everything in the room. 

"I really am sorry for getting such an awful place," Hermione said guiltily.

"Atleast I'm not sharing with Goyle," Draco said.

Now that they had nothing to do, the full weight of everything came crashing down on Hermione. Again.

What would Harry think of her? Would he ever forgive her even after she explained everything to him? She wouldn't ever be able to look him in the eye again. What did Ginny think of her? Did she believe Ron or was she being defiant and doing what she wanted? It had only been a few hours, but she missed them terribly. She had succeeded in losing her best friends.

She sniffled involuntarily. 

Draco looked over at her and frowned. 

It was most likely that she would never be able to meet them again. The Ministry was likely to send out people to search for them, maybe even with permission to use the killing curse. What if she died before she could explain things to everyone? 

"Hermione."

She turned away defiantly, trying her hardest to stop thinking. She bit her lip to prevent it from trembling. She couldn't cry, she had to be strong for both of them. 

"Look at me."

Hermione shook her head, a strangled sob escaped past her. 

"It's okay to cry," his voice was gentle, warm, "you don't have to be ashamed of it."

She heard his padded footsteps approach her. She waited for a sarcastic remark, a witty insult. Instead, she felt herself getting turned around. He wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice sounding like a rumble because her head was pressed into his chest, "I should have left when I could have."

"Don't say that just because I'm too weak to hold my tears in," Hermione chided herself.

"Crying doesn't make you weak," Draco's voice had a trace of light admonition, "you just lost your friends and your home helping someone who has never done anything for you. If there is any reason for you to feel stupid, it's this. You shouldn't have agreed to help me."

"Don't," Hermione said, "I'm glad you're here."

"Likewise," he said. 

"I'm sorry for being so pathetic," Hermione laughed humorlessly, "I guess I'm not as strong as people claim."

"You talk an awful lot of rubbish, do you know that?" Draco chided.

"I've lived with you for nearly six months, I think it's natural for me to be influenced by your habits," she retorted back.

"You hurt my feelings," he feigned a hurt expression.

"You know I'm not serious," Hermione said.

"I know, I know," he said, "now, it is rather hot in the room, and even though I know you enjoy hugging me because who doesn't, we should probably let go of each other."

"Ferret," she muttered, and released him from her hold. He looked down at her contentedly, and bent down to place a kiss on top of her head. 

"I can't thank you enough for everything," he said, his voice low.

"I haven't done anything yet," Hermione pointed out.

"You were there for my mother," he said solemnly, "when nobody else was. You were there for me as well."

"I'm sure you would be completely fine without me," Hermione said, trying not to show how flustered she was. She didn't think she had the energy to handle anymore emotions at the moment.

"You're wrong," he said, "I'd be dead on a bathroom floor if it wouldn't have been for you."