Wherever You Go That's Where I'll Follow

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/62557504.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Theodore
Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Voldemort (Harry Potter), Narcissa
Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Ginny Weasley
Additional Tags: Possessive Draco Malfoy, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Overprotective
Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, Not
Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Angst and
Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV Hermione Granger, POV Draco
Malfoy, Draco Malfoy Redemption, Sexual Tension, Bonding, Idiots in
Love, Mutual Pining, Chaotic Theodore Nott, Chaotic Draco Malfoy,
Fluff and Smut, Snatchers (Harry Potter), Eventual Fluff, Blood and
Injury, Supportive Narcissa Black Malfoy, Supportive Lucius Malfoy,
Simp Draco Malfoy, Animagus Draco Malfoy, Dragon Draco Malfoy,
Toxic Draco Malfoy, Crookshanks is a Little Shit (Harry Potter),
Crookshanks, Draco hates Crookshanks, Draco Malfoy in Denial,
Draco/Crookshanks love hate relationship but Draco tolerates him
anyway, Hermione loves her guardian angel death eater in disguise
Draco Malfoy but doesn't know it yet, Crookshanks likes to bully Draco,
Ron Weasley Bashing, Character Death, Temporary Character Death,
Major Character Temporary Death
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2025-01-27 Updated: 2025-02-20 Words: 96,168 Chapters:
15/?
 Wherever You Go That's Where I'll Follow
by Princess_slytherin22

Summary

Hermione finally wrenched her arm free out of his tight grip, watching the magic sink and
disappear into her bloodstream.

"What did you do to me?" She whispers, her voice carrying through the cries of the attack as
she meets the pools of grey behind the mask, sending a warm shiver licking up her spine.

The Death Eater stepped into her space until he towered over her and dipped his head beside
her ear. She doesn't recognise his voice under all the charms he had placed to hide it, but she
feels like she knows him. Personally. That they had crossed paths before at some point. His
voice was deep, wrapping around her like silk, pulling him to her as he whispered into her
ear. She couldn't bring herself to push him away this time.

"Wherever you go, I shall follow. I'll come get you when the time is right." He paused as he
drifted the back of his gloved hand, down her bare arm in a caressing gesture, the gooseflesh
pricked at her skin under his searing touch. "Don't do anything reckless. Those eyes of yours
are too captivating; I'll miss them if they close forever." He pulled back, towering over her in
an intimidating stance of power.

Notes

This Draco is toxic but in a sweet possessive way, where he only wants to protect her and
keep her safe.

A lot of truths to unfold, secrets unfolding with hurt, Angst and comfort but happy ending all
around.

This was originally an idea from my brain to my tik tok and you lovely people, wanted it so
here it is!

You can find my social media through tik tok : @Princess_slytherin22 I'm more active on
there, with updates and clips on the story.

Instagram: @Princess_slytherin22

You're all amazing and welcome to another long new fun story, I'm excited to share.
See the end of the work for more notes
 Chapter 1

She shouldn't be here.

She couldn't be here.

Hermione watched the wedding unfold as she stood by the sidelines, scanning the crowd as
her foot brushed up against the back of her ankle in guilt and shame.

The guilt of her betrayal crawled its way under her skin, laughing at her, mocking her. Just
like it had done for weeks. She was so tired, she couldn't sleep anymore, the heavy knot
pressing down on her chest every time she had to look Harry, Ron, or the Weasleys in the
eyes.

Hermione wanted to tell them the truth. But she couldn't.

If she did, they would turn their backs on her, and Harry would be going off on this Horcrux
Hunt without her help.

After all, this was all her fault in the first place. She shouldn't have done it; she should've
walked away and known better than to do what she had done. Told someone, taken it to the
proper authorities, or even told Harry, but she hadn't. Her brain had ignored every single
proper rational decision. Her heart had been the one to take over who she was that night.

But it was too late.

The poison was out of the vial, spreading rapidly like wildfire, burning their world to the
ground, killing innocent men, women, children, and even muggles that didn't deserve any of
it.

She'd kept convincing herself that what she was doing was for a good reason over a month
ago. A purpose to stand by someone who obviously needed it. Who needed help and was
screaming for help, but no one had taken any notice of them, apart from her. Though what
she had unlocked had only made things ten times worse. She wished she had stayed out of it
and let them deal with it all on their own.

Hermione couldn't even bear to look at herself in the mirror. All she saw now was the word
traitor lighting up in red, jagged letters, screaming at her every time she looked into the
reflecting glass. Haunting her over and over again.

Her own reflection practically stared at her as though it detested being attached to her.
Shaking her head every time she gazed into it as if it were telling her our mother would be so
disappointed in you if she knew the truth of what you've done.

Why the fuck did she think it had been a good idea?
But, reflection, Hermione was correct. Her mother would be disappointed in her. So would
her father, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the Weasleys. Even the Order and McGonagall would be
disappointed, or rather in this case furious with her for what she had done.

Hermione supposed that even though none of them had said it out loud, or even knew what
she had done, she was now on some level considered the enemy.

Damn and curse her good-natured heart for taking over, trying to do the right thing and help
the person that had evidently needed it at the time.

Because the person she had done it for, more than likely—no, definitely—wouldn't be
grateful for it if they knew. They'd think she was mad, curse her for it, and toss her to the
Death Eaters or Voldemort himself if they knew what she had done.

Why and when did she listen to her heart instead of her brain?

All it's done is darken it, rather than lighten it. All it's done is taint who she was and what her
purpose was.

Tainted her loyalty to Harry, to Ron. It's made her wipe her parents memories and ship them
off to Australia, where they would be safe and away from the impending war about to erupt.
It's made her toss and turn in bed all night as she cries herself to sleep wishing that she could
still have the time turner back from third year and go back to that night and stop her past self
from making the same mistake.

It's all her fault.

Hermione was to blame for what was currently happening.

She might as well hand herself over to Voldemort herself and accept her fate for the mistake.

And as she looked away from Fleur, Bill, the Beauxbatons, and the guests, dancing, laughing,
and drinking with pure joy on their faces, momentarily forgetting about what was currently
happening outside of the Burrow. A patronus, shot through the tent of the canopy, the lights
dimmed as it found home in the centre of the dance floor. The bride and groom stepped away
as the Patronus hovered in a ball in the centre.

Hermione placed her glass of champagne down on the table, her hand slipping from Ron's as
she edged to get closer as a bright blue glow filled the canopy. The music died out, along
with soft murmurs surrounding her.

Just as she got closer, images of people running, screaming, and fighting for their lives flew
out in wisps as Kingsley's voice echoed throughout the party, filling her ears.

This was the moment that her heart clenched.

The ministry has fallen.

The Minister of Magic is dead.

They are coming.

They are coming.

Death Eaters.

Hermione's breath hitched as the Patronus evaporated, and that's when all chaos broke loose.
The minister was dead; he had only been here a few hours ago to give her, Harry, and Ron
items Dumbledore had left to them in his will.

Hermione grabbed her wand from her beaded bag as the Death Eaters crashed the wedding,
in all directions materialising in their black apparition smoke. The guests screamed and
started panicking as the attack erupted into chaos. People shoved and pushed as the Death
Eaters started firing the killing curses, curses, and crucios in all directions, picking off
whoever they could.

"Hermione!" Ron bellowed, trying to reach her as she was shoved forcefully away from him
through the rampage. "Hermione, get to Harry! Go that way!" He pointed towards Harry,
across the other side of the tent, defending Ginny whilst her back was turned.

Hermione gave him a nod and shoved her way through the bustle of the Order and Death
Eaters attacking. She dodged a hex aimed at her head; she shot the Death Eater back that had
aimed at her, sending him flying through the canopy, gritting her teeth.

She caught Ron out of the corner of her peripheral vision as she made her way round, going
around the other side, fighting off what he could on his own. He was closer to Harry than she
was; she just needed to find a way to get there as more came in, picking off what was left of
the wedding party.

Hermione shot a reducto towards Greyback, pulling her back up behind a pillar, and poked
her head out, hurling a stupefy at a Death Eater about to sink his dagger into George's back,
knocking him back with a scream. She ran, she dodged, she got pushed, and pulled until
finally she found an empty opening towards the outside of the canopy and made her escape to
head around to the next right where Harry was.

She ran out, relieved that no one was there, and made her way around, but just as she got to
the opening and caught Harry, still fighting and having Ginny's back, a Death Eater
materialised in front of her out of nowhere, blocking her path.

Hermione gasped as she almost collided into him, hardening her eyes, and aimed her wand
right at his chest. The Death Eater in question was quicker and smacked her hand away from
him, her fingers losing grip from the sweat, and caused her wand to go flying somewhere out
of her vision. She stumbled back on her heels as he cocked his skull-silver-masked head to
the side, taking one large, intimidating step towards her, his hands balled at his sides.

She wasn't afraid of him.

Hermione swung her fist back to punch him when he grabbed her fist in one large, gloved
hand and stopped her. She cut her free arm up to smack him in his windpipe, and he grabbed
that too, his fingers tightening around her forearm, until she was wincing in pain. He started
walking forwards slowly, forcing her to move back with him as she tried to set her hands free,
but he was much stronger and more dominant.

"Let me go!" She screamed as he lowered her hand that was still enclosed in his down to her
side, but he didn't let go. Her feet stumbled as she tried to dig her heels into the ground to
stop him from pushing her backwards. His boots almost crushing on top of her toes, he was
that close.

He gave a throaty chuckle deep from the pit of his chest as they stepped into a small stream
of light, peeking out from between the curtains, and she faltered when her eyes met a pair of
stormy grey behind his mask.

The tall, broad-shouldered Death Eater stopped them right there in the faint dim light,
allowing her to see his eyes, and only his eyes, as he released her fist and curled his fingers
around her wrist, keeping a strong hold to keep her arm in place at her side.

Hermione's chest heaved as his eyes slid to her left forearm still, up by his shoulder, and she
struggled, grunting, as he narrowed his eyes. Hermione couldn't even begin to understand
what type of magic he was using, but he certainly wasn't attacking her.

The grip he had on her wasn't painful enough to stop her blood pumping, but it was strong
enough to keep her mobilised in place.

She watched, her brows pinching as a silver line rope of magic, vined its way out from his
wrist, out of nowhere, and travelled along her palm, down to her wrist, until it reached the
middle of her forearm. She darted her eyes to it, widening slightly as the silver sharp glow
wound its way around her arm in a similar shape of a vine to match her wand.

Hermione wriggled her wrist, and he squeezed at her pulse point, causing her to yelp as his
fingers dug into her flesh, pressing her skin into finger-shaped dents. She shakily met his eyes
through his mask and found he was already staring back at her, searching her soul so hard she
felt exposed to him.

The magic began to sink into her skin, electricity shooting up her arm, along her nerves and
muscles all over her body.

Hermione finally wrenched her arm free out of his tight grip, watching the magic sink and
disappear into her bloodstream.

"What did you do to me?" She whispers, her voice carrying through the cries of the attack as
she meets the pools of grey behind the mask, sending a warm shiver licking up her spine.

The Death Eater stepped into her space until he towered over her and dipped his head beside
her ear. She doesn't recognise his voice under all the charms he had placed to hide it, but she
feels like she knows him. Personally. That they had crossed paths before at some point. His
voice was deep, wrapping around her like silk, pulling him to her as he whispered into her
ear. She couldn't bring herself to push him away this time.
"Wherever you go, I shall follow. I'll come get you when the time is right." He paused as he
drifted the back of his gloved hand, down her bare arm in a caressing gesture, the gooseflesh
pricked at her skin under his searing touch. "Don't do anything reckless. Those eyes of yours
are too captivating; I'll miss them if they close forever." He pulled back, towering over her in
an intimidating stance of power.

Hermione craned her head up as his hand, still clasped around her wrist, loosened slightly,
but his thumb brushed along her pulse point, soothing the ache he had caused.

She searched the silver moon pools between the slits, unable to understand what was
happening. Why wasn't she pushing him off? Why did his touch feel, like...like home?

"Something on your mind, Granger?" He taunted, the charms causing him to sound like a
manly human robot.

"What did you do? What was that magic?"

His hand, still brushing against her arm, moved back up; his eyes followed the movements,
his head tilted slightly as though he was fascinated by the tone of her skin.

"I can't answer that," he said. "It's strictly confidential to you at this moment in time."

"Let me go," she pleaded, catching Ron shouting for her somewhere in the distance. "Please
let me go."

Fight him! Fight him! Get him away from you! Her mind screamed at her, but another part of
her wanted to stay and allow him to keep touching her in the soothing, ticklish strokes of his
gentle fingertips.

The grey eyes met hers once again, crinkling at the edges, as if he was smiling under his
mask. "You're free to go; I'm not stopping you. You're the one refusing to move."

Hermione's breath hitched; a trickle of sweat seeped at her temple as he brushed his fingers
up to her bicep, across the front of her shoulder, and stopped them resting along her
collarbones, creeping towards her thumping pulse point.

"Let's play a little game, shall we?" She was positive that he was arching his brow in a
challenge as he closed his pinky, fourth, and thumb to his palm and pressed two long fingers
to her pulse point, gently adding a light pressure to feel it through his glove. "I'll ask you
some questions. If you lie to me, your pulse will miss a beat. If you tell me the truth, it will
stay as it is." His eyes crinkled again. "Beating erratically."

Hermione swallowed thickly, her breath catching, but words failed to leave her tongue.

"Do you know who I am, Granger?" He asked, catching her throat contract against his
fingers.

"No."

"Are you afraid of me?"

Hermione took a steady, deep breath in through her nose as she kept her eyes locked onto his.
"No."

"Oh," the Death Eater stranger laughed. "You just lied to me."

"Please, stop." She whispered.

"Do you regret the choice you made in school over a month ago?"

Hermione's brows furrowed, her lips slightly parted as she stared at him, trying to figure out
who he could be. She wondered what his hair was like under his hood and mask. Was he a
dark-haired man? Did he have lighter hair? Did he have a stubble or smooth skin? Was he
tanned or pale? What was his bone structure like? Was he handsome or ugly like most of the
Death Eater army was? His eyes, though, they were beautiful. She couldn't deny that, intense
and setting her skin aflame as his gaze burnt into hers.

She wanted to know, but a part of her wanted to never lay eyes on him again.

"Yes," Hermione answered.

"Another lie, Granger." He tutted. "That's twice your pulse has jolted."

"That's enough." She snapped back to reality and smacked his hand off her throat and ripped
her other hand out of his grasp. "Accio wand!" Her wand immediately flew back into her
palm, and she grabbed his robes, digging her wand under his chin, her eyes hard and her teeth
clenched, the tip of her wand sparking a hot red against his flesh; she could hardly work out
the colour from the shadows.

If he was afraid, he made no move to show it or even stop her.

"He's grateful, you know. For what you did."

"Who?" She snarled.

The mystery Death Eater kept his hands at his sides, his gaze unblinking into her own.

"Malfoy."

Hermione loosened her grip around his robes, her breath sharp as she inhaled. "I don't know
what you're talking about." She declined.

"Don't fucking lie to me." He snapped an angry flash shooting through his eyes. "He knows,
and he told me to tell you."

"Who are you? What do you want? Are you trying to ruin my life and get me to admit it?"

"It appears you've already done that yourself." She wasn't sure, but she had a feeling he was
sneering as she shakily and stupidly began to lower her wand. The Death Eater took that
chance as she began to panic, her hands trembling at her sides, and he slowly started to circle
her. "They don't know what you've done. But he does. He knows; he saw you." He hissed in
her ear to her left, and she flinched.

"I—I don't--"

"Cut the bullshit, Granger." The Death Eater came back around, his eyes narrowed into a hard
tension as he disappeared behind her again. "Did it feel good?" The charms lacing his voice
deepened further as he stopped behind her, the mouth of his mask right by the shell of her ear.
"Feel good helping your enemy?"

Hermione's lip trembled, shaking her head, words lodged in her throat as though someone
had ripped her voice box out.

"No?" He taunted, mocking her. "Then why do it? Why go to so much trouble fixing that
cabinet for him when you can't stand him?"

Hermione wetted her lips, her vision blurring as his body heat caged her back, his chest
inches away from resting against her. "Because... because..."

"Because what?" He curled his fingers around her jaw, his eyes trained on the side of her face
as she froze.

Hermione snapped her mouth shut. She wasn't going to do it; she wasn't going to admit it to
him.

"Look," he forced her head to the left of her to look through the gap of the canopy at the fight
still taking place. "Look at what you've done. Malfoy didn't cause this; you did it by finishing
his task for him."

"I didn't kill Dumbledore." She choked on a sob as a beauxbaton girl was killed from a curse
to the back. Hermione screwed her eyes shut as he forced her to keep looking.

"Neither did he. That's not the point; the point is you completed the mending of the cabinet
and unlocked that door to make it happen. The question he wants to know is why." He
tightened his grip on her jaw, closing that distance between them as he pressed his lean chest
up against her back.

"Please stop."

"What was it? Sick of Potter, you want him gone quicker?"

"No." She trembled, a loud sob threatening to break free.

"What was it then?" His other hand snaked around her waist, pressing his palm flat against
her lower abdomen, keeping her secure in his arms. "Open your eyes and look at what you've
caused. You did this, Granger. No one, not even Malfoy, asked you to help him."

Hermione sucked in a shaky breath, a quiet sob passing through her lips. "I didn't mean to..."
she whispered, flinching as Tonks was blown back nastily. "I was just trying to make his life
easier... he needed help... I was the only one that noticed it. He was alone and scared."
She was sure she had imagined it, but she could've sworn she felt him flinch against her
back.

"Such a bad girl, Granger." The malice in his tone was clear through the charms. "Helping
your fellow Death Eater classmate murder your headmaster and take down the Chosen One.
What would your parents think?"

Hermione sobbed quietly, without meaning to, thumping the back of her head against his
chest. "I wish I hadn't; he didn't deserve my help. I hate him." She forced it through clenched
teeth as the tears rained down her face.

"Too late now, isn't it?" He chuckled so darkly against her it vibrated through to her chest.
"Shame, you're feeling guilty. He'll be so disappointed when I deliver the message to him.
Perhaps you should've stuck to your books and left him to do what he needed to do alone.
Pretty face," he pressed the cold metal of his mask against her skin, jolting her from the
shock of it. "Beautiful eyes, but not as smart as deemed to be."

Hermione ripped herself away from his arms and put space between them, anger crawling
under her skin, and she turned around to curse him, but when she aimed her wand at the
space he was in, he was already gone. Vanished as though he had never been there in the first
place.

Hermione blinked through her guilt-ridden tears, her brows pinching as she flew her eyes
around searching for him. But when she could no longer see him, she heard Ron calling out
her name and wiped her face, schooling her features and clenching her jaw, heading back
inside to get to them.

She got to Harry and Ron and felt a pair of eyes glued to her back, but as she turned back to
the empty, flapping entrance of the curtains, there was no one there. Then, she felt the
familiar tug of aspiration in her lower belly as Ron and Harry grabbed her hands.

With a snap and a twist, the wedding morphed, swirled away out of view, all three of them
landing to safety in the busy streets of London instead. They took off to go into hiding and
figure out the next stage of the plan, whilst all that ran through her mind was the conversation
with the mystery Death Eater.

She didn't know who he was, but whoever he was, he knew her; he knew Malfoy, and he
knew what she had done at a time she had found Malfoy bleeding out in the bathroom and
had woken up during his painful screams, begging her to help him before he had passed out
from the loss of blood, and she had been the first one to witness his dark mark branded into
his arms.

Whether he remembered that or not was a different story, but for days when she secretly went
by the hospital wing to charm his mark up, Malfoy would talk in his sleep, talk to her, and
ask her to help him. That he couldn't handle it anymore, that if he didn't get the cabinet
completed, he and his mother would be killed by Voldemort.

So that's what she had done: seen the terror in his eyes that night in the bathroom and found a
boy, crying for someone to help him. To help him escape this nightmare he was enduring.
She'd done it to keep him alive; despite their rivalry, he was still a child.

A lonely, frightened child at that.

What a mistake that was, when she didn't realise the consequences of her actions the moment
she had fixed that fucking cabinet, going in blind without realising what it did and its
purpose.

Hermione should've let him bleed to death and listened to her head instead of her sodding
bleeding heart to help out her enemy.

Harry was never going to forgive her if the truth came to light, and she wouldn't blame him
after Harry had been right about him this entire time.

What she didn't realise, however, was that the Death Eater that she had spoken to had been
the wizard that she had saved and finished his task for him.

Malfoy had gone there to get her alone, to place a tracking charm into her blood so that he
knew where she was at all times so that he could follow her and keep an eye on her as a thank
you in return for what she did for him.

To keep her safe.

~♡~

Draco removed the disillusionment charm from himself, and removing his mask from his
face, his lips tugged up into a smirk, staring at the space inside the canopy she had just been
in after apparating away with Potter and Weasley.

He felt something burning in his pocket, and he pulled it out, placing his mother's small
makeup mirror in the palm of his hand.

"Show me, Granger." He commanded it.

The mirror swirled, removing his reflection to show her, and there she was, rushing through
the streets of London, her features sick-stricken in guilt. The magical tie he had placed in her
allowed him to see her inside the mirror whenever he wished, and he could feel her heart
beating, attached to his signet ring. He claimed her now, wether she liked it or not.

Draco wanted to make sure, that she lived.

Right now her heart was racing, against his finger in adrenaline, pounding painfully against
his flesh.

He smirked in pride as she pulled Potter and Weasley to a stop down a dark alley, rummaging
in her bag. He could still, feel the remaining heat of her body pressed up against his chest.
The intoxicating fragrance of her perfume, lingering on his robes.

Heaven, beauty and divine.

Draco snapped it shut, flipped his mask back down, and joined in on the last remaining
attempts of the attack of what was left of the Order, concentrating on the heartbeat against his
finger that he desperately wanted to press his ear to and claim it as his own.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

2 months ago-

Hermione left Ron at the Gryffindor table, her curiosity getting the better of her after she had
seen Harry speed walk it out of the Great Hall ten minutes ago after Katy Bell's return. She
smiled at some fellow classmates on her way past and headed up the moving staircases
towards the third floor.

She yawned, waiting for the staircase to swivel towards the corridor she needed to take. As it
stopped at its designated entry, she walked up the three remaining steps that she had to take,
humming happily, swinging her book in her hand as she walked down the empty corridor.

Hermione was happy. Sort of. Ron was alive; after being poisoned in Slughorn's office, Harry
had finally stopped yapping about Malfoy, claiming him to be a Death Eater, driving her
absolutely nuts on a daily basis. Lavender was out of the picture after hearing Ron
murmuring Hermione's name in his unconscious condition.

She felt a bit guilty about that. True, Lavender had been nothing but a show-off and rubbing
it in her face, but now that Ron was back and a part of the trio once again, Hermione wasn't
sure if her feelings for him were as strong as they once were, before he had gotten with
Lavender. She felt guilty that she was the reason they had broken up, even though she hadn't
done anything, but she knew Lavender was hurting.

But after all of these weeks apart, barely talking or acknowledging each other, when he had
woken and apologised to her, the spark of love wasn't as strong as it once was.

And now Lavender was mad at her for something she had no control over: what had come
out of Ron's mouth.

Never mind, but the days were getting darker. Harry was getting nowhere with Slughorn to
talk about Tom Riddle and find out his past. Time was running out quickly. In just two short
months, Harry will be seventeen, and the only strongest protection he will have, once he's of
age, would be Dumbledore. The Order can only protect those underage for so long.

Dumbledore was more powerful than the Order put together.

As she walked down the corridor, she noticed a puddle of water coming from around the next
bend. Hermione slowed her steps, her brows furrowing as she turned the corner and gasped
as she caught sight of the entire corridor flooded with water.

"What the?" She questioned absolutely no one but herself as she heard a burst main pipe
coming from the boys bathroom, flooding it out into the corridor.
Hermione dodged the flowing stream, coming through the door down in her direction, and
carefully made her way to see what was happening. As she approached the half-open doors,
she heard someone whimpering in excruciating pain on the other side.

"Hell-! Merlin, Harry!" She jumped back as Harry swung the door open, almost running into
her on his fast escape. Hermione grabbed him by the shoulder to stabilise him as he stared at
her, his green eyes wide and crazed and his trousers drenched, sticking to him. "Harry?
What's wrong?" She furrowed her brows.

"I didn't—it wasn't supposed to; it was just--," he stammered, his voice shaking as he gulped.
"I swear I didn't mean to!"

"What?" She searched his face, trying to understand what had him so shaken up. "What's
happened?"

"M-Malfoy," he shakily pointed to the bathroom door behind him, and that's when she caught
his hands drenched in blood that didn't appear to be his own. Dripping from his fingertips, up
his arms, and a few dots on the collar of his shirt.

Hermione's breath hitched, her throat tight as he met her eyes, his expression mortified, his
skin a ghostly pale. "What have you done?" She whispered. He didn't answer. "Harry, what
have you done?" She repeated her question, more slowly and firmly.

"It was an accident," he whispered, as he stepped to the side, his hand clutching at his
stomach as he looked away from her as if he was about to be sick.

Hermione shoved past him, knocking his shoulders and pushing the door open, the sound of
the water hitting the floor crashing in her ears as she followed the pained whimpers. She
followed the gushing water, a pained cry echoing under the stalls as she got closer, and saw
mixed in with the water, bright red blood, swirling down the drain.

Her chest began heaving, dreading what she was about to see, and then her book dropped to
the floor as she moved past the last stall and found Malfoy on his back, nasty electric
lightning slashes across his chest and abdomen, bleeding to death.

She was down by his side within an instant, hovering her face over his screwed-up, deathly
pale one.

"Malfoy? Malfoy, can you hear me?!" She darted her eyes all over him, uncertain if she
should touch him or not.

He hated her. He'd probably freak out if he knew that she had touched him whilst he was
knocked out, but she didn't have much of a choice.

But he was dying; she could see that.

"Malfoy? Malfoy, talk to me," she said in a loud but soft tone, gently trying to stay calm, and
shook his shoulder. His breath hitched painfully, then his face relaxed of all pain, and he went
terrifyingly still. "Malfoy?" She shook his shoulder.
No response.

"Malfoy!" She raised her voice, but still nothing. She wasn't even sure if he was even
breathing anymore. "Harry! Harry, get in here!" She shouted, losing sense of what she was
doing and who she was doing it to, as she grabbed at the buttons of his shirt and ripped it
open to see what she was dealing with. "Oh, gods! Harry, hurry up!" She screamed, her eyes
rounding at the deep, nasty slashes against his pale alabaster skin, red, hot, and angry in
jagged lines.

Harry came stumbling back in, his potions book still in his hand, still pale and guilty across
his face. "W-what are you doing?"

"What did you do?!" Hermione shouted, shoving her hand in her pocket for her wand. "Tell
me what you used on him!"

"I... I didn't--"

"Now, Harry!"

"Sectumsempra curse," he gulped as her eyes narrowed at him angrily.

"That spell from that bloody book you won't put down to save your life?" She accused,
harshly and angrily. Harry nodded. "Give it to me!" She held her hand out, keeping her other
on one of his wounds to try and slow down the bleeding.

Harry didn't move or make an attempt to hand it to her as he started moving it behind his
back, as though it was an expensive piece of jewellery. He shifted on his feet, glancing
towards the door, looking ready to bolt it any second.

"Harry James Potter, you give me that right now before he dies!"

"It's just a potion book!"

Hermione was losing her patience, as Malfoy started to grow dangerously cold under her
touch. His chest rising and falling weakly. "There's a spell in there for a reason! There has to
be a counter curse! Now, stop wasting my time and let me save him!" She shouted at the top
of her lungs, her teeth clenched together.

She didn't mean to yell at him, but she didn't want herself or Harry to be held accountable
under Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy for being the reason that their son was dead.

Harry chucked it at her clumsily, and she caught it, resting on her knees, and quickly flipped
through it looking for the counter curse.

Just as she got ten pages in, a hand snatched around her wrist as Malfoy let out a
bloodcurdling scream, his fingers shaking violently around her wrist. "Granger! Granger,
make it stop!" His eyes flew open, black in pain, wide, locking onto hers, and crazed as he
hissed through his teeth, leaning up to watch another slice strike down from the left-hand side
of his ribs, all the way down to the waistline of his trousers at his hips.
Hermione whimpered in pain as he dug his fingernails into her skin, blocking off her
bloodstream. "Malfoy, calm down!"

"Make it stop! Make it stop!" He cried, sounding nothing like himself, throwing his head
back against the flooring, flooded in his own blood and water, drenching his blonde hair. A
few strands stuck to his brow as his chest heaved violently and his back arched.

Hermione watched the slice split his skin open, a fresh wound opening all by itself. "Sh, sh,
sh." She hushed, biting back a cry of her own at his bone-crushing grip around her wrist,
using her other hand to open the book as best as she could. "It's going to be okay; I promise it
will--" her eyes caught on to a dark, shadowy tattoo beneath his white school shirt.

Her breath got caught in her lungs as she caught the familiar snake and skull symbol of the
Dark Mark.

"G-Granger...please," he suddenly calmed down, loosening his grip around her wrist as he
stopped writhing in pain and his head rolled in the direction of where her eyes were currently
glued on. "Y-you're s-smart... do something…" he panted, his voice suddenly low and
dangerously quiet.

Hermione didn't move; she couldn't look away from the dark mark, just peeking through his
now see-through sleeve. Malfoy was a Death Eater; there was no denying it. It was right
there; she could see it moving against his skin from the magic. She began shaking, her breath
trembling as she started to withdraw her hand from against his chest.

Did Harry know? Is that why he had cursed him?

Harry was right all along; it was right there.

Save him. Her heart told her.

Leave him; Harry was right all along. He's up to something. Her brain told her.

Save him, Hermione.

Leave him, he cursed, Katie Bell, it makes sense. Who else would do that? What about Ron?
The poison, remember?

He's still a child himself. Her heart clenched as she shakily looked at him, unconscious of his
hand slipping from hers to fall limply at his side.

Leave him, Hermione. Get up and walk away. His friends will find him. It's better this way;
he's done nothing but make your life a misery. One less Death Eater to deal with.

Her heart and brain argued back and forth as she debated what to do. Both parties were right,
but leaving him to die would be wrong.

You're the only one that's noticed he's depressed. At what point this year has he used the M
word on you? You won't let a man die, not even your enemy. It's not who you are.
Malfoy's lips were turning blue, his chest had stopped moving, and a thin trickle of blood
began to seep from the corner of his mouth and dipped under the sharp line of his jaw.

She couldn't decide; he was about to die, and she wasn't sure if she could get up, walk away,
pretend that this had never happened, and carry on with her life.

True, it would be one less Death Eater out of their lives, one less bully and obnoxious rich
prat thinking that he was better than everyone else.

Hermione tried to swallow the lump in her throat as her eyes stayed wide and frozen on
Malfoy's extremely pale face.

"Hermione, what are you doing?! Save him!" Harry's loud, bellowing voice cut through her
thoughts, and she snapped back to reality, sucking in a shaky breath and locking eyes with
Harry.

"Go and get help!" She turned away from him, quickly flipping through the damp pages, as
Harry ran off, leaving them alone. "Come on, come on!" She said in frustration.

Then she found the curse and quickly read through it. The curse was used for enemies, to
slice their skin, bleed to death until they would die, making it impossible for them to fight
back.

She then found the counter curse, revised it as fast as she could, and followed the
instructions.

Hermione grabbed her wand and hovered it over his injuries and began to cast the counter
curse, moving her wand in three slow clockwise motions, muttering the counter curse under
her breath as it said to do in the book. Her heart thrashed painfully in her chest as she
watched the blood reverse itself back into his body from the water and sink itself back into
his skin where it belonged.

She released a trembling exhale, her throat dry, as she watched his skin sew back together all
by itself.

Just as the wound by his hip closed up, he gasped, sucking in a large breath, his eyes flying
open as Malfoy took several weak breaths. Then they screwed shut, his muscles twitching,
and for a moment she was afraid he was going to have a seizure. Then he let out a grunting
sigh of relief as his features relaxed, and once again he was unconscious, but this time
breathing.

Hermione sighed in relief, placing her hand over his chest, her fingers losing grip on her
wand as it clattered by his side, and she didn't know why, but she turned her head to the side
and placed her ear to his chest where his heart lay.

Hermione took slow, deep breaths, exhausted from saving his life as she listened to his heart
begin to beat at a normal rate.

It was steady, gently thumping against her ear.

Thump, thump.

Thump, thump.

Thump, thump.

Malfoy was alive, and she had saved him.

Hermione Granger, Malfoy's enemy who detested her very being, had been the one to save
his life tonight.

She should probably remove her ear from his chest before he wakes and pushes her off,
sneering at her for daring to touch him in such an intimate way.

Hermione slowly raised her head, her eyes landing on the mark just hiding under his sleeve
but visible to the naked eye. Hermione's eye twitched, a horrible image in her brain, picturing
him bowing down to Voldemort to take it willingly. Holding his arm out, to let him dig his
wand into his skin and mark him for life.

What was Malfoy playing at? He was only 16.

Something wasn't right about all this; she could feel it in the pit of her stomach that he didn't
have it because he wanted it.

But because he was forced.

Hermione stared at it for a while longer, debating on whether to tell Harry the truth when she
heard footsteps running back in her direction.

She didn't think twice as the footsteps got closer and grabbed her wand, placing a strong
disillusionment charm over his mark. The mark vanished, leaving nothing but pale skin in its
wake on his forearm, just as Harry, Snape, Nott, and Zabini came running in.

"Draco?!" Nott got down to his side, checking him all over. "What's going on here?!" His
blue eyes met Hermione's, sharp in fear and anger.

"I swear I didn't do anything," she whispered, looking down at her blood-soaked hands.

Malfoy's blood on her hands.

Nott narrowed his eyes at her as Snape and Zabini got down to Malfoy's other side, casting a
quick diagnostic on him.

"Did you hurt him?" Nott, accused.

"No, I saved him. I swear I didn't--"

"It was me," Harry cut in, in shame, and all eyes turned to him; Snape gave him a blunt,
disappointed stare. Nott looked mad with rage, whilst Zabini stood straight, silently bouncing
his eyes between Hermione and Harry to work it out for himself. "We got into a fight, and I
took it too far. I didn't mean to hurt him; Hermione's innocent. She saved his life."

"What did you do to him, Potter?" Nott sneered, a threat deep in his tone as he lifted his best
friend's head into his lap.

Harry walked over and picked up the book, which caught Snape's sharp, intense gaze.
"Sectumsempra curse. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go that far. He fired at me first."

"Leave us, Potter. We shall discuss this later." Snape said. "Miss Granger, what counter curse
did you use?"

Harry hesitated on leaving her with three Slytherins, his eyes worried as he made to turn,
keeping a tight grip on his book. Hermione waved him off, forcing a smile to silently tell him
that she was okay. He nodded once and left without another word.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione paid her attention back to the three sets of eyes staring at her. "Vulne--Vulnera
Sanentur," she said hoarsely, clearing her throat as her eyes stung with tears. "It was in the
book Harry had."

Snape didn't say anything as a hard tension settled around his dark eyes, tending to Malfoy
once again.

"Granger, are you all right?" Zabini asked her.

Hermione nodded weakly. "I'm fine; he...he stopped breathing. Too much blood. I think I'm
just shocked and exhausted."

Zabini offered her a smile in gratitude. "Thank you. For saving his life, we appreciate it."

Hermione offered a smile of her own, though it was faint as Snape levitated Malfoy and kept
a hold of his arm, guiding him out of the room, but Hermione stayed right where she was,
staring at her crimson dripping hands, shaking in adrenaline against her thighs.

A hand wrapped around her bicep and guided her to stand, her school skirt soaked and left
over blood, dripping down her shins.

"Do you want to come with us to make sure he's okay?" Nott offered, catching her shivering,
and placed his Slytherin cloak around her shoulders as a peace offering for saving his friend.

"Oh, no. That's okay; I should get back." She declined, kindly about to take it off when Nott
linked his arm with hers, smiling warmly at her.

"Come on, Granger. He's hardly going to curse you for saving his life." He nudged her in the
ribs, forcing her feet to move as he started walking out of the bathroom, keeping her secure in
his arm link.

Zabini caught up with her, coming to her side, keeping his hands in his pockets.
"For a bit." She sighed, allowing Nott to drag her out of the bathroom towards the Hospital
Wing.

"I apologise for jumping to conclusions and accusing you," Nott said. "Given you and Draco
don't see eye to eye, it was the first thing that I thought of."

"I understand."

"Nice punch, by the way," he chortled, bumping his hip with hers. "Don't tell him I told you
this, but he wouldn't shut up about it for days after you broke his nose." He rolled his eyes, a
cheeky smile broadening on his handsome face. "All I heard was: Granger this, Granger
that. I can't believe she broke my nose! Theo, does it look as bad as it felt? Don't ever repeat
this, but she packs a punch. Granger is feisty—

"Theo," Zabini warned in a low drawl as they approached the Hospital Wing. "Stop talking
before you say something Draco wouldn't want you to repeat."

"What?" He scrunched his long nose. "I'm only repeating what he said for three days straight.
I think you bruised his ego, Granger." He snorted, as her brow arched at the curly, tall,
skinny, chestnut-haired Snake. "Opened his eyes to see a whole new you--"

"Theo, stop bloody talking!" Zabini snatched her away from the rabbiting Slytherin and
pulled her to his other side away from him. "Ignore him, Granger. Theo doesn't know how to
stop his tongue from running before his brain thinks of the consequences." He snipped, his
eye twitching as he linked his arm with Hermione's as though they were good friends on their
way to brunch.

This day was getting weirder and weirder. First she had saved Malfoy, rested her head against
his chest, and hid his dark mark for him, and now she was heading to the Hospital Wing to
visit said wizard and his friends treating her as though she was a close friend to them.

As if they weren't opposites.

All right, perhaps Nott and Zabini hadn't ever made her life hell, just as Malfoy had, but that
didn't mean that she didn't think this situation she was currently in was odd. All she had
wanted to do was to find Harry to find out his urgency for walking off, then curl up in bed
with a good book.

That was certainly off the cards for tonight, it appeared.

"I was just going to say that Draco said that he thinks that Granger--"

"Theo, seriously, shut up before I silence your gob for a week!" Nott opened his mouth to
protest but soon closed it as Zabini sent him a warning death glare. "Don't push me, Theo. I
will do it, and you know I will."

Hermione suppressed a smirk, kind of disappointed that she wasn't going to hear what he had
to say, as Nott stuck his tongue out at Zabini in a strop, grumbling under his breath. Never
mind, as her brain also reminded her it was quite possibly just a pack of insults for her, for
breaking his nose in third year.

Which he had deserved, thank you very much.

They got to the hospital wing and had to wait outside for an hour until they were called in
and confirmed that Malfoy was going to be all right but had to stay for a few weeks. He was
asleep, stable and comfortable. His colour back in his cheeks, still pale, but his cheeks were a
rosy pink. His hair clean and dried, falling over his eyes, a few strands resting on his brows.

Hermione kept herself rooted at the foot of his bed, as Nott and Zabini sat beside him, talking
to him quietly about things she couldn't quite work out.

It sounded as though they were talking in French. To tell him things that they didn't want
Hermione to know.

Fair enough.

She wasn't their friend or his; it was none of her business. But Malfoy didn't reply as he lay
there, his chest rising and falling at a steady pace, his arms above the blanket, resting at his
sides, shirtless and his mark still covered.

To anyone else, it looked like a normal patch of clean skin, but to her, she could decipher
where it was and what it looked like.

Her jaw twitched, debating about telling Harry that it was the truth, that he had been right all
along, but a part of her couldn't bring herself to get him into trouble.

Why am I protecting him? She mentally questioned herself.

Hermione didn't realise that she was staring at his arm for so long until Nott stepped into her
vision, blocking his arm from her.

"You should come by the snake pit at some point." He said, catching her off guard as she met
his flirtatious blue eyes and cheeky smirk.

"I'm sorry?"

"Well," he slung his arm around her shoulders, leaning into her side, smouldering. "I'm not
sure how Blondie here is going to react to knowing his mortal enemy saved his life of all
people. But I and Blaise appreciate it, and we are at your mercy. Come by, have some fun,"
his fingers found their way into her curls, twirling one around his finger, letting it go to
bounce back into place. "We're a great laugh." He winked.

"Theo," Zabini pinched the bridge of his nose, evidently losing his patience. "Leave the poor
witch alone; I think she's been through enough for one day."

"Thanks, but," she put some space between them, removing his arm from her shoulder. "I
think I'll pass, Nott." She draped his Slytherin cloak off and handed it back to him, warm and
dry.
Nott tutted in disappointment. "Shame, I'd sure show you a great time." He tracked his eyes
all over her, making her feel naked, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, groaning softly.

"Stop that." She bit, screwing up her nose, folding her arms across her chest. Honestly, Nott
truly was handsome, but he wasn't her type.

Too chaotic for her taste and a pain in everyone's backsides. But he meant well; he was a
quiet kid when it came to schoolwork, a study junkie like she was, kind-hearted and sweet
but not her type.

"Teasing," he chuckled playfully, thumping her on her upper arm. "Or am I?" He taunted, his
voice heavy in a flirtatious manner, wiggling his brows.

"All right, that's enough." Zabini grabbed Nott by the arm and pulled him away from
Hermione, already shoving him out of the door as they briskly walked away. "Thank you,
Granger. And if you don't want him to know, we won't say a word--" he paused for a split
second. "Well, I won't; I can't promise big mouth here won't. See you later."

"Oi!" She heard Nott snip in defence as they left her alone and the doors closed behind them.

Hermione laughed softly, as the silence fell heavy around her, and turned her attention back
to Malfoy. She stood there still, unblinking for a solid two minutes, until she found the
courage to move and stepped up to his left-hand side, carefully taking his left arm in hers,
studying it with her hands curled around the back of his arm.

"What have you done to yourself, Malfoy?" She said in an airy whisper, sighing heavily.
Absentmindedly brushing her thumb over where the mark lay hidden.

When she didn't get an answer for a good ten minutes, tracing his mark that she could feel
against the pad of her fingers, she rested his arm down by his side and made to turn to head
back to Gryffindor Tower when a hand snatched around her wrist, yanking her back
forcefully.

She gasped, flicking her eyes down to Malfoy, who was still unconscious, but his fingers
tightened around her wrist. His lips were moving, his brows twitching together, but his eyes
remained closed as he was saying something she couldn't hear or understand.

Hermione hesitated, swallowing thickly as she looked around to make sure she wasn't being
watched, and stepped closer to him, knowing full well she shouldn't, but she couldn't help
herself, and then the next thing she knew, her ear was beside his lips to catch what he was
saying.

"Kill me...mother..." he murmured in his sleep. "He'll kill me... cabinet... too hard...
Granger..."

Hermione's breath hitched as he went quiet after saying her last name and stayed extremely
still, slotting her eyes to his, but they were still closed. His hand remained clasped around her
wrist.
Malfoy grunted in his sleep as he started talking again, muttering things in an unstringable
sentence. "Voldemort...wants cabinet...can't do it...too hard...he'll kill me...kill mother...don't
want...die…" he broke off on a pained exhale.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," she whispered into his ear, sighing heavily, carefully prying
his fingers off.

"Granger...I don't...want...to die…" Then he stopped talking, his hand letting her go, falling
back to his side as his sharp features relaxed into a deep sleep.

Hermione waited several heartbeats to see if he would say anything further, but when he
didn't, and she took that as he had fallen asleep deeply, she pulled back and reached out,
brushing his hair back from his eyes.

It was softer than she imagined it would be as she carded her fingers through his fringe. It
was such a shame; they were enemies.

In another life, she thought perhaps that they could be friends.

Malfoy's personality was on a level of challenging. Someone who would pick fights with her
at the smallest inconveniences until they would scream at each other and then be laughing, by
the end of it forgetting what they were arguing about in the first place.

Hermione slowly studied his face. Funny, for a man so cruel, constantly wearing a sneer that
made him appear as if he was smelling something foul in the air, he was rather enchanting
whilst his face was relaxed.

The sharp angular bone structure of his jaw, cheekbones, and nose made him appear as if his
face had been carved by angels. Smooth, alabaster skin, perfect nude pink, plump, filled lips
that looked like they tasted as sweet as sugar. Long, dark lashes, resting against his cheeks,
fluttering as he slept. Dark brows, shaped better than her own, curving his brow bone that
made him look angry but gentle all at once.

Gorgeous face, ugly personality.

Hermione walked away from him as the sun went down, exhausted and drained from the
healing magic, making her way back to Gryffindor Tower, her brain ticking in overdrive as
she tried to work out what he had been saying. She decided for now, knowing that it was
wrong to go back tomorrow and redo the disillusionment charms on his arm, and keeping
quiet about what she knew until she would know if he had chosen this or not.

As much as she didn't want to believe it, something in her gut was screaming at her that he
needed help. That he was scared for his life and was running out of time.

And so was Narcissa Malfoy.

When she got back to Gryffindor Tower, she found Harry alone in the common room, sitting
on the sofa, his jet black hair a shaggy mess, the book still in his hands, and she crossed the
room to him, holding her hand out to him impatiently.
"Give me that right now and go to bed."

Harry obeyed, handing it over to her, silently reluctant to let it go but allowing her to
anyway.

"Are you all right?" She questioned in a softer tone, tucking the book behind her back.

Harry nodded, his expression etched in ashamed guilt. "Is he all right?"

"He's fine; he's alive. He'll be scarred for life, but he's going to be okay." She offered him a
smile to ease him as he sighed in relief.

"I didn't mean to, Hermione." He said. "I didn't know what it would do. He threw the first
curse at me. I just retaliated."

"You could've killed him, Harry," Hermione said, taking a seat next to him and placing her
hand on his arm in comfort. "You never should've used a spell you weren't familiar with. It's
illegal; it's a curse. You're lucky you haven't been expelled."

"I know."

Hermione's lip twitched into a small smile as he looked away, frowning at his hands rubbing
between his thighs. "I'm going to hide this from you. Somewhere you can't find it again. I
love you, Harry. But this obsession with Malfoy needs to stop."

"I still stand by my suspicions. He's guilty; I know it; he was crying before the fight. Malfoy
doesn't cry. He has a heart of stone."

"Just because he's cruel and we don't see eye to eye with him doesn't mean he doesn't have
feelings too. You don't know why he was upset; you should have left him alone to deal with
whatever it was that he was dealing with."

"I saw him, Hermione," Harry met her eyes, a hard tension around them. "As soon as he saw
me talking to Katy in the Great Hall, he took off. The answer was on his face; he was the one
that cursed her before Christmas. He's guilty, and once I've proved it, I will catch him out and
have him thrown in Azkaban with daddy dearest." He said bitterly. "He's up to something. I
don't know why you're constantly defending him; he hates you. He wouldn't do the same for
you."

"Maybe he doesn't have a choice; have you even considered that?"

"There you go again," he shook his head, barking a sarcastic laugh, standing straight. "Am I
the only one that can see it? Malfoy is evil! No redemption in him whatsoever; I've been
watching him for weeks. He does not have a soul or a decent kind bone in his body. And
you're an idiot for believing that."

Hermione slumped back in her seat, crossing her leg over her knee as she stared up at her best
friend. "Tell me the truth, Harry. If I hadn't come by when I did. Would you have gone to get
help? Or would you have let him die? Be honest with me."
Harry ran a hand through his hair, making it messier, as his jaw tightened. "Honestly?"

Hermione nodded, gripping her fingers around the edge of the book.

"I wasn't fleeing to get help," he said, his tone honest. "I was fleeing to avoid being caught."

Hermione's brows twitched as she searched his unreadable expression. "Are you saying that--
"

"Yes," Harry interjected. "Although a part of me is relieved I haven't murdered him, I feel
guilty now. I was originally going to leave him there and let him bleed to death." Her
stomach sank at his confession. "I'm sorry if you don't like that, but he's a bad person. You
should know that better than anyone."

"Harry, he's just a teenage boy." She whispered, hardly able to believe what had just come out
of his mouth.

"A teenage boy, who has made all three of our lives hell since first year." He replied coldly,
his body language defensive. "I couldn't care less if he died tomorrow, albeit without my part
in it. I don't like him, Hermione. Whatever he's gotten himself into is his own fault. Good
night." He stormed past her, and she held her breath as she heard his footsteps go up the stairs
and his dorm room slamming shut behind him.

Hermione sat there for a long time, tracing the front cover of the Advanced Potions Book in
her hands, chewing on her bottom lip in thought.

True, Harry had a point that he was cruel and had made all of their lives hell for the last six
years.

But there was a nagging voice in her head that was telling her he wasn't doing whatever it
was that he was doing out of choice. Malfoy was scared; for him to not defend himself in
front of Katy, the things he had murmured in his sleep told her everything that she knew.

Malfoy was petrified for his life and his mother's. The dark mark made him look like a traitor
and chose the dark side, but that didn't mean that he truly wanted it.

Hermione made a decision. She would go back and try to figure it out more clearly until she
knew whether or not Malfoy needed someone to watch out for him.

Because despite Nott and Zabini showing up, Hermione couldn't recall Malfoy being around
them at all this entire year.

He was always alone and staring at his work or food, lost in another world, as though he was
struggling to carry on with whatever heavy weight was currently dragging him six feet
under.
 ~♡~

Present day-

Draco sat alone in his room, by the warm hearth of the fire in his chaise. Wand twirling
between his fingers in a swift, gracious, water-flowing movement. A crystal tumbler of his
father's expensive fire whisky, resting between loose fingers against the arm, leg crossed over
his knee, and his body-length mirror sat in front of him.

He could see her.

Sitting there at his mother's Black family home, talking to Potter and Weasley at the old table
about a locket that once belonged to Salazar Slytherin.

The magic that he had placed in her allowed him to see her in any reflective object that he
granted access to. Including something simple as a glass, no matter where she would end up.
A forest, a dungeon, a tent, or a house, Draco could see her as much as he wished to his
heart's content.

He took a long, smooth sip of the alcohol, swirling it around his tongue as he kept his focus
on her and her alone, listening in to their conversation at hand. Granger's heart was beating
steadily against his fourth finger, calm and fluttering. Steady.

Draco watched her in curiosity as her focus kept landing on her left arm, where he had placed
the tracking magic no less than 24 hours ago, her brows furrowing in curiosity of her own.
He could read her like a book just from here miles apart. She was chewing it over who she
had spoken to, who had known about what she did for him.

He could tell that she was scared that Potter would find out, but Draco wasn't going to say a
word to Potter or anyone on the matter.

Not even Theo and Blaise.

He was grateful because of her; she was the reason he was still alive, and his mother, though
frail and trying to stay brave for him, was still here and safe.

It had come as a shock when he had gone up there to finish it after being released from the
hospital wing and found it fixed, and the Death Eaters were already coming through with
them thinking he had done it all by himself. He had been so confused, at first panic surging
him over who could've done it.

His first thought had been Snape, truthfully.

But then, throughout the next few days after he had fled Hogwarts and Snape had killed
Dumbledore, he kept getting faint, vacant memories of Granger by his bedside. Her warm
honey, intoxicating eyes hovering over him, and he'd seen her at one point, sitting at the edge
of his bed, his arm in her hands as she hid his dark mark for him, humming a lullaby thinking
he hadn't noticed.
Draco didn't understand it at first at all, why she had done that for him, protecting his secret
when he was the last person she should ever want to help. To actually come by and shield his
mark from prying eyes made him think he had lost his bloody mind.

She hates him; he knows that.

Everything was a blank picture after Potter had cursed him. He couldn't recall getting to the
hospital wing or what Potter had done after that.

But then, as he had started to come around two weeks later, Theo had mentioned that Granger
had been the one to save his life, her hands drenched in his blood. To cast the counter curse
and even join him and Blaise to make sure that he was okay.

He didn't remember anything.

The only thing he could remember was blurry images of her talking to him—or rather
herself-- Actually, he wasn't certain if she had been talking to him or not, tapping her wand
against his arm to hide his mark.

Draco had no definitive proof that Granger had been the one to fix the cabinet for him. His
mind had drifted to Snape, then to Theo or possibly Blaise.

But neither of them knew how to fix the bloody thing.

But, Granger. She had the brains, the mental capacity to work it out, and figure out the puzzle
all by herself.

He had driven himself mad, thinking it through thoroughly if she could have quite possibly
fixed it for him without realising what she was unleashing into the castle. He'd gone to the
wedding raid to do the tracking charm and attached her pulse to his ring to keep an eye on her
but also to see if she would admit it whilst he kept his face and voice covered.

Truthfully he hadn't seen her at all working on it. It was just a lie to see if she would crumble.

Tricked her into confessing, allowing her to think that he was someone else.

And she had confessed in a manner of speaking without actually going into full detail.

He just needed to be sure that he wasn't as deluded as his brain was telling him.

Draco leaned forward in his chair, placing his wand and glass of Firewhiskey between his
thighs, watching her eyes. Perhaps this was a level too far, watching her every move from his
bedroom.

But if she hadn't fixed it, he'd be dead, and so would his mother.

He owed her; she'd saved his life when she didn't need to, and he hadn't expected her to. Him
of all people, after everything he's done to her, didn't deserve it, and yet she still had.

Twice.
The Death Eaters were after her. Muggle-borns were the most wanted, coming second to
Potter.

Especially her.

And Draco would be damned if one of them dared to lay a finger on the witch that had no
idea that she was currently being watched by her mystery Death Eater.

His door suddenly opened behind him, without a knock, and he cursed under his breath and
quickly removed the image of her, the mirror only reflecting himself. He glared at the person
behind him for interrupting him, but when he caught who it was, he dropped it immediately.

Theo walked in, looking sick in the face, pale and drenched in sweat, his eyes trained to the
floor.

"What's up with you?" Draco said, sounding less friendly than he originally anticipated.

Theo's eyes met his in the mirror, bloodshot and terrified. "What was it like?" He whispered
so quietly, Draco barely caught it.

"What?" His brows furrowed as he took a long, slow sip of his whisky, watching him
carefully in the reflection.

"The mark," Theo's voice shook, his jaw trembling. "Draco, what was it like getting the
mark?"

Draco placed his glass down on his minibar to his left and turned around to face Theo in his
chaise. "Theo, what's going on?"

"Can you just answer my question, please?"

Draco brought himself to stand, slowly crossing the room towards Theo. "Now, what's the
matter? I'm not answering that question unless you tell me why you're asking."

Theo wouldn't meet his gaze; his throat contracted as his weary expression stayed glued to
Draco's shoes. "Father...he said that Voldemort wants me next."

"You're not taking the mark." He replied smoothly.

Theo's brows knitted together as he finally looked at Draco. "What?"

"You're not taking the mark," he repeated firmly. "The Dark Lord doesn't want any more
teenagers. You and Blaise are safe and free. I already had a load of crappy excuses about you
both, just in case. Apparently I'm enough; your father is just trying to scare you. He wants
adults, not kids, in his army."

Theo's face flooded with relief, pressing a trembling hand to his chest as the colour came
back into his face. "Thank fuck for that," then he realised his mistake. "I'm sorry, Draco. I—I
didn't mean--"
Draco waved him off with a dismissive hand and inclined his head for Theo to follow him
back to his chaise. "Do you want a drink?"

"I think I need one, thanks." He said. He sat down in the next chaise next to Draco's,
watching his back as he poured two tumblers of whisky. "How did the wedding raid go?"

Draco tensed as he turned to Theo and handed him his glass. "Fine."

"Did you see, Granger?"

"I did."

Theo nodded, taking a sip, moaning at the back of his throat as the liquid immediately
relaxed his nerves. "Did she see you?"

"No. I didn't go near her; I was too busy fighting off Lupin." He lied, glancing sneakily at the
mirror then back to Theo.

"Missing her are we?" His lips twitched into a knowing smirk.

Draco's eyes narrowed at the way he said it.

"Don't be absurd. Can't stand the girl." He glanced at the mirror again, his jaw twitching in
agitation.

"I know you're fit, mate, but you don't have to keep eyeing yourself up." Theo scoffed
sarcastically. "Can I stay here tonight?"

Fuck's sake.

"Sure." Draco forced a smile as he looked back at his lifelong friend. "The guest bedroom is
all set up for you." Great, he wouldn't be able to see her for a good several hours with Theo
around.

He'd ask too many questions.

No one needed to know.

Theo smiled in gratitude. "School is going to be different." He sighed, sloshing his amber
liquid in the glass. "Dower. But at least it'll be me, you, and Blaise as normal."

"I'm not coming back," Draco shrugged, knocking back his Firewhiskey and concentrating on
the pulse around his ring.

Theo's face dropped in disappointment. "But you said--"

"I know what I said. I'm not coming back to school." He snipped, a slight aggravated bite to
his tone. "I changed my mind. I'm staying here." Strictly speaking, that wasn't true either.

Only half of it.

 "But you hate it here," Theo pointed out, gesturing to his room, waving his hand. "When did
you change your mind?"

"Around the time Dumbledore died." He said calmly, taking a deep, long breath in through
his nose. "I'm sorry, I can't come back. Everyone knows what I've done. No one will want me
there; it's better if I stay here."

"But--"

"I'm staying, Theo. End of discussion."

Theo slumped back in his chaise, shaking his head. "What are you going to do instead?"

Draco folded his arms across his chest as he glanced at the mirror, only showing him and
Theo's reflection, and twisted his signet ring around his finger absentmindedly. Granger's
heart, thumping to match his own.

Beating as one.

"Just something important that I need to take care of. That's all."

Chapter End Notes

Thank you so much for the kudos and comments already, I'm so excited to continue this
one!

I will reply to all your comments when I get the chance.

🤭
I have no schedule plan for each update, but I have a week off in a few days and you
may be lucky to get 2 or 3 more in that space of time.

Let me know what you thought on this chapter, Draco's got it bad 🤫
 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

2 weeks later-

"Try again, Harry." Hermione pressed her fingers to her tired eyes, rolling the sleeves of her
long-sleeved pink top up, standing in the middle of the forest they had apparated away to
after the Ministry a few days ago, where they had found the real stolen Horcrux locket.

"It's not working." He rolled his neck, cracking the bones to release some built-up tension.

It didn't work!

"Try anything. That's all you need to—

"Stop bossing me around!" Harry snapped at her, cutting her off. "I know what to do; I don't
need you to baby me!"

Ron limped up to Hermione's side, placing his good hand on her shoulder, whilst his other
was currently in a sling after he suffered a nasty splinching to his left on their escape.

"Easy, mate. Hermione's only trying to help." He spoke gently to hopefully drop this nasty
attitude Harry had been giving to the pair of them for the last three days since they had
arrived here on a clumsy and last-minute apparition to escape Yaxley.

Hermione waved a dismissive hand at Ron. "It's the Horcrux. It affects him more for some
reason." She whispered tiredly, watching Harry scowl at the voice-filled locket, and began
snapping exploding curses on it against the leaves.

"Still no reason to talk to you like an arse," Ron said, taking a step back with Hermione as
with each nasty snap of Harry's wand, the Horcrux started moving towards them from the
force of the sparks leaving Harry's wand.

"I'm a big girl, Ron. Been spoken to worse than that."

"Confringo!"

"Reducto!"

Hermione flinched at Harry's angry spells, one after the other, bang, bang, bang, echoing
around the forest, scaring birds and squirrels scampering up their trees into the safety of their
homes.

"Incedio!" Harry almost screamed, a hot ball of fire exploding from the tip of his wand and
crashing over the locket, causing it to disappear for a moment. He began to smile
breathlessly, thinking he had destroyed it. But just as soon as his smile had appeared, it soon
vanished as the hot orange and red flames died out, and there lay the locket on the ground,
without a scratch on it.

Hermione didn't say anything as she watched Harry clench his jaw, his anger radiating off
him in bitter waves as he bent down, picked it up, and placed the locket around his neck,
tucking it into his shirt.

"We have to keep it safe until we figure out how to destroy it." His voice was off, lifeless as
he spoke.

"Seems strange, mate. Dumbledore tells you all about the Horcruxes but doesn't tell you how
to destroy them? Doesn't that bother you?" Ron asked, his brows furrowing.

Harry only stared at them. Or rather, right through the pair of them, as though he didn't
understand a single word Ron had just said. Like he hadn't listened at all. His brows twitched,
then he turned on his heel and headed back inside the tent without a backwards glance at
either of them.

Ron sighed, turning to Hermione. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm okay," she smiled, tightening up his sling for him. "How's your arm? Still sore?" She
asked, grabbing a pin from her back pocket and pinning it together to keep it more secure.

"A bit." He winced as she tightened it too hard by accident. Hermione cursed under her
breath, untying it and then doing it back up more gently. "Hermione, it's okay. I'm all right."
He smiled, his blue eyes dazzling at her warmly.

Hermione smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. If she had known what he was currently doing,
she would've been aware of Malfoy watching her through his mirror back at his manor and
smashing his glass in his hand in one quick squeeze without meaning to. His eye twitching
angrily at her friendly gesture towards her best friend.

But, she didn't and she still didn't know to this day that it was him she had spoken to at the
wedding two weeks ago.

"What are we going to do about him?" She sighed as she pulled back and put some space
between them, bending down to gather some logs for a fire.

"Nothing we can do," Ron shrugged best he could, feeling rather useless as he watched. "Just,
maybe try and keep him away from it. Though at the moment I'm a bit terrified of him."

"It's not his fault." She said, chucking a rotten one away into the bushes. "It's dark magic. It's
what it does. It's no wonder Umbridge wanted it. I could tell in that courtroom, she was even
angrier than usual. And annoying." She added scoffing around the word, with poison.

Ron nodded, standing there idly, guilty that they couldn't travel by apparition because of his
injuries. After the wedding, the trio had landed in London on Shaftesbury Avenue, gotten
changed, and then headed to an empty cafe out of the way.
Dolohov and Ralph had soon shown up in disguise and attacked them, blowing the shop to
pieces. Once Hermione had managed to take down Dolohov, the deatheater that had caused
the nasty scar across her chest back at the end of fifth year, she'd obliviated them to wipe
their memories of them seeing them in London to stop them from going back to their puppet
master.

Ron had watched her wipe their memories, her expression wounded but determined as she
did so. He understood, he knew she'd had to obliviate her parents memories all by herself and
send them off to Australia to keep themselves.

Who were once Jean and Richard Granger with a daughter? They were now Monika and
William Elkins, married without any children but still dentists on the coast of Sydney.

It was the hardest thing she had ever had to do, but here she was, still here, still helping her
best friend.

Ron had then suggested that they go to Grimmauld, where it would be safe from snatchers
and Death Eaters. So they did, and that's when they had found out that Fletcher Mundongous,
who had helped them at the movement for Harry from the Dursleys to the Burrow and been
half of the reason Moody was dead, had stolen the real locket from Grimmauld.

Kreacher the noble house of Black house elf, had told them that his old master Regulus Black
that had died at the inferni where Harry had found the fake one had told Kreacher to keep it
safe. Kreacher had brought it back to Grimmauld, hidden it, and tried so hard to destroy it
upon his master's request after his death.

Unfortunately, he didn't know how to destroy it. Kreached then told them that someone broke
in and stole most valuables belonging to the Blacks, including the locket.

Mundongous was the one that had done it.

It was soon discovered, when Kreacher came back with him and Dobby too, that Mundungus
had auctioned it off to a witch to avoid Azkaban for selling artefacts illegally down
Knockturn Alley.

The trio had been dreading the thought of getting it back from the witch, because it was
attached to no one other than Dolores Umbridge.

Pink, pudgy, giggly, cruel, fat Umbridge had it around her thick, fat, eating neck.

They'd managed to get it, of course, going under Polyjuice as certain people that worked in
the ministry, taking the locket and then making their escape towards the Floo. Originally they
had planned to go back to Grimmauld for a few more days for extra security and to see if they
could destroy it there.

But that didn't go to plan.

Yaxley had a tight grip on Hermione just as she apparated, and she had to change directions
in a second flat to avoid him following them. The magic had been harsh, and unfortunately
Ron had got hit, splinched, and now he couldn't travel whilst his wounds would reheal.

On foot it was, with a tent extended inside for them to travel around in.

"Don't yell at Harry, Ron," Hermione said, standing up with a pile of logs in her arms. "He
doesn't mean it; it's dark magic. It's got part of You-Know-Who's soul inside; it's what it does.
Makes you say things you don't mean."

"I know," he sighed, following her closer to the tent, towards the fire pit. "Perhaps we should
take it in turns."

Hermione only arched one brow at him as she sunk down to her knees and organised the logs
into a neat pile.

"You know, so that it takes the pressure off of him." He suggested.

Hermione rolled her tongue on the inside of her cheek, scooping soil into the palms of her
hands to keep the logs in place. "If we can get it off him. Then that's a brilliant idea." She
grinned up at him, standing to her full height.

"Well I am brilliant," Ron joked a wolfish grin spreading his lips.

Hermione snorted, linking his good arm with hers. "Come on. I'll make you tea, then I'll
check on your wounds. It's almost time for more Dittany."

They walked back into the tent together, finding Harry sat on his cot turning the locket
between his fingers. Hermione twitched her lips up into a flat smile, as he made eye contact
with them, but he didn't smile back. He went back to the locket.

Hermione then guided Ron into the miniature kitchen, sat him down, and filled the tea kettle
with Augmenti to boil it. Ron sat down, grabbing the radio and turning it on at a low,
crackling volume, listening closely to see what was going on outside of the tent.

More disappearances, deaths, and reports of Snatchers searching across Britain for Harry.
Ron was mainly listening to be extra cautious to listen out for any of his family names on the
list.

None so far.

As Hermione made him, her, and Harry some tea and sat down next to Ron, taking off his
sling, a name came through the radio that they recognised that made Hermione's heart sink.

"Oh, no," she whispered, gently applying some essence of Dittany to Ron's wounds. "Ted
Tonks."

"Nymphadora's father," Ron said quietly. "Killed."

Hermione swallowed thickly, being careful as Ron flinched in pain. "I'm sorry." He smiled at
her. "Poor Tonks, Andromeda. I can't even imagine." She shook her head, her voice growing
thick with emotion for the man that had been so helpful and sweet in the Order.
"Evil bastards," Ron turned it off as the man on the other end said that was the end of today's
list. "Loved that guy."

Hermione smiled sadly, quietly paying her respects to Ted in her head as she finished off
Ron's arm and applied a new bandage to avoid infections. "I think another month, or so, and
then you can apparate again."

"Is it bad?" He asked, frowning at his useless arm.

"It's still open. It'll scar, but it's healing slowly just as it should be." She reassured him as
positively as she could.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Ron's eyes met hers, slowly searching hers.

Hermione stared back; Ron truly did have beautiful blue eyes. Bright, inviting, like the ocean
in the Caribbean. Sometimes she had noticed in the sun, the blue would turn to a crystallised
colour, making them pop against the contrast of his pale skin and red hair.

But, for some strange reason, she couldn't get the stormy grey behind the mask out of her
mind from the wedding.

Ron's eyes, as she stared into them for a few heartbeats, and he began to lean in, she realised
that they weren't making her feel things as the mystery Death Eaters had.

Nothing.

The thunderstorm grey had caused her heart to beat at a dysfunctional rate. Blood rushing in
her ears, her hands clammy, and her knees had threatened to weaken and betray her as they
had stared at her as though she were all that mattered.

Hermione could only see them now if she closed her eyes, and there they would be.
Crinkling, glowing in the light peeking through the curtains. Taunting but in a way that would
make her get on her knees for him and do whatever he commanded of her.

I'm sick. I'm certain of it. He's evil. She mentally questioned her own sanity.

Though she was sure, or she was bloody crazy, who knows that she could still constantly feel
like they were watching her? 24/7. But wherever she looked, he was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione realised that Ron had begun to lean in, and nothing, no matter how beautiful his
own eyes were, it just wasn't working for her as it had used to. She leaned back, clearing her
throat, and Ron paused, a small, embarrassed blush creeping into his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--"

"It's fine," she interjected sweetly. "I, um," Hermione coughed as she caught the hurt features
of rejection on Ron's face and stood, putting space between them. "I'm going to go to the next
village and pick up more food and supplies. Why don't you go and get some rest? I'll be back
soon."
Ron nodded a disappointed expression across his face as he stood swinging his legs off from
the bench, taking the radio with him as he left her alone in the kitchen.

Hermione pressed her palms flat into her sternum, taking a deep shuddering breath on guilt.
She knew Ron still felt something that neither of them had actually spoken about, but after all
that with Lavender, Hermione just didn't feel the same way anymore.

The potential friendship breakup over them few months made her realise that she missed him
as a friend.

A friend only.

Her mind was too busy consuming the Horcruxes, Harry's foul mood, and a certain bloody
Death Eater that wouldn't leave her mind no matter how hard she had tried.

Hermione grabbed a hair tie and put her hair up in a ponytail, clenching her jaw in agitation
as she felt someone watching her. She turned her head over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes,
looking for any shadows on the other side of the tent.

Nothing. Not a soul.

But she wasn't crazy she could feel it all the time.

Hermione didn't know if she was losing her mind or not, but she could've sworn she could
feel a smirk being toyed with at her. She blinked shaking her head, after staring at the cream
polycoton like a crazy person and grabbed her coat, wand and beaded bag, strutting out of the
kitchen passing the boys on her way past.

"Where are you going?" Harry said in a clipped tone.

Hermione forced a smile, trying to keep her blood pressure low from his attitude as she
turned to face him still on his cot. "I'm going to get some more supplies before it gets dark.
Do you want anything?"

Harry blinked at her long and slow, his expression flat. "No, thank you." He broke their gaze
and went back to the locket in his hands.

Hermione took a deep breath, turned, and headed out, strapping her bag across her chest and
her wand at her side, and made her way past the protection wards. She quickly calculated the
shapes of the trees, how each twig and leaf was laying across the ground so that she could
find her way back.

With a quick flick of her wand to change her nose, chin, and cheeks to keep herself hidden,
she apparated away from the tent to the next muggle village ten miles from where they were.

~♡~

2 hours later-
Hermione returned later than she had anticipated. She swiped her hand to her forehead,
wiping the sweat after having to make a desperate escape. She'd gotten the supplies she had
needed. Tinned food, tea bags, biscuits, sugar, bathroom necessities, things she needed for her
time of the month and body wash with extra deodorant for the boys and herself with the last
scraps of money she had taken from her saving pot from her bedroom before she had left.

But as she had left a tiny corner shop in the small village of Yorkshire, a few snatchers had
arrived, attacking the village and holding up a poster of Harry himself, asking if anyone had
seen him. She'd had to hide, for over an hour waiting for them to go away, to head back here.

Nobody knew who Harry was, but unfortunately there was a muggle-born family living there,
and they had attacked them and snatched them away, taking them straight to the Ministry for
information. And quite possibly torture.

Greyback was with them. Sniffing the air like a rabid pack animal, he had started heading
down the hiding space she had been hiding in down a dark alley. Hermione only managed to
escape, placing heavy layer after layer of disillusionment charms over herself that thankfully
blocked off her scent as he got closer to her.

She had to place three silencing charms over herself to stop him from hearing her heart
thrashing as he had bared his teeth, scanning the area she had been hidden in with hungry,
bloodthirsty eyes.

Then as soon as he had reached his hand out and stared right at her he'd been called back and
as soon as he was gone she apparated straight back here.

Hermione sighed in relief, clutching her beaded bag to her chest, and swallowed the lump in
her throat, catching that it was pitch black in the sky. She cursed under her breath and shakily
made her way back to the tent, hoping that she wasn't too far after her hasty escape, her
charms wearing off all by themselves.

"One shouldn't be strutting about the forest alone when there are dangers about."

Hermione froze at the familiar deep voice in the shadows to her left. She looked between the
two long twisted trees and caught a tall silhouette of a man, leaning causally up against the
tree, one foot resting behind him and his arms across his chest dressed in all black.

She narrowed her eyes as he turned his head in her direction under his hood, and her breath
caught when she caught the same grey eyes, cutting into her behind a silver-plated skull
mask.

The Death Eater stranger from the wedding.

"You again?" She clenched through her teeth, her slim fingers gripping tightly around her
wand.

"Granger. Pleased to see you again," he drawled slowly, pushing his foot off the tree and
crossing the forest towards her.
Hermione took three steps back, away from him, as he came up close to her. "How did
you...how did you find me?" Her brows furrowed, keeping her wand at her side, ready to
attack.

"I told you," he said, dipping his head to make himself eye level with her. "Wherever you go,
that's where I'll follow." He whispered, his voice huskily deep under all his charms.

"Well, go away," Hermione snapped, clutching her bag closer to her protectively. "I don't
want you here."

The edges of his eyes crinkled under his mask, sharp as though he were smirking. "That may
be. But I'm not going anywhere, princess. You're stuck with me." He reached his gloved hand
out, twirling a loose curl framing her cheek around his finger.

The cold leather of his glove ghosted her cheekbone, and her breath hitched involuntarily.

She shuddered.

He darkly laughed as he watched her curl wind its way around his index finger in striking
fascination.

Hermione smacked his hand off, taking a large step back beginning to aim her wand at him.
"Who are you? What do you want from me?"

"Well," he put his hands to himself placing them behind his back as he stared his nose down
at her. "I'm not here to attack you am I? You're still here." His eyes slid to her wand, at her
right hand side. "Attack me all you want. Don't see me pulling my wand out on you."

Hermione ground her jaw as he made a good point. He didn't deem dangerous. If he was, he
would've took her without her realising, and yet he hadn't. There he stood in the dark, every
patch of skin covering him in his death eater robes, calm, collected and his hands behind his
back staying still.

"Who are you?" She repeated slowly.

The Death Eater cocked his head to the side, the grey eyes narrowed slightly behind the slits.
He shrugged one shoulder but didn't speak.

"Do I know you?" She tried it that way, watching him carefully for his reaction.

"Look into my eyes and you tell me, Granger." The Death Eater stepped into her space,
having to dip his head as she craned her neck to meet his towering stance. "Take a good look;
see if anything comes forward."

Hermione huffed a low breath, her wand lowering back to rest against her thigh as she
searched the steel silver twinkling in the moonlight, causing them to glow slightly. She
searched back and forth, trying to picture anyone she knew with grey eyes.

Nothing came forward the longer she stared. Everyone she was close with and had properly
looked into their eyes, only had blue, green or brown.
No grey.

Her first thought was that it had been Nott back at the wedding. He had blue, and the way he
had been tracing her skin took her back to that night at the Hospital Wing with Malfoy.
Flirting. But these ones were grey, and as far as she was aware, Nott didn't want the Mark.

Not to mention that Notts touch had made her uncomfortable, but this man in front of her
made her want him to wrap his arms around her and trace every inch of her flesh.

Hermione gave up when no one she knew that could have gorgeous eyes as his came to her
mind. She shook her head, and he scoffed causing his shoulders to jolt at the movement.

"I didn't think so." He taunted, a biting sneer in his tone.

"How did you find me?" She sneered back sensing he was too. "The trace on me is gone. You
shouldn't have been able to find me."

"Surprised you haven't worked that out in that smart brain of yours just yet."

It took her a moment to catch on to the stranger's hint. Until it dawned on her and she glanced
at her left forearm, remembering what he had done to her. Her blood boiled.

"You've put a tracking spell on me?" Hermione spat searing a glare into his calm gaze.

He chuckled, from the deep pit of his chest dipping his head in a curt nod. "I told you. And I
did."

"Take it out of me!"

"No." He glared, a flash striking through his eyes. "I'm doing this for a good reason."

"I don't want you near me! I don't want you to keep popping up out of nowhere. I'm not a
bloody child."

"Why do you think Greyback suddenly moved away from you back there, Granger?" He said
ignoring her pleads.

"Because he was called back."

"Wrong," he shook his head, removing his hands from behind his back to fiddle with his
gloves as though he were bored. "I distracted him with a piece of steak to get him away from
you. One more step and I would've ripped his head clean from his shoulders."

Hermione's eyes rounded ten times the size. "You were there too?" She questioned
accusingly.

"I knew they were heading there," He said slipping his hand into his pocket and pulled out a
black, curved bent wand that she didn't recognise into his wand holster on his arm. "You
decided stupidly to leave all by yourself out in broad daylight. You're lucky I was there.
Those charms of yours aren't as strong as you thought. I could still hear your heart, pounding.
And so could he." His eyes tracked all down her making her squirm. "Word of advice, less
perfume. Greybacks senses are heightened ten times more than yours and mine alone. He
won't hesitate to kill you." He harshly, exhaled a pissed off glare behind his mask.

"Thanks for the tip," she said hotly. "But I don't need your help. Leave me alone and never
come back. I don't want you knowing what I'm up to." Hermione made to turn when he
grabbed her by the shoulder and snatched her bag from her chest. "Give that back!" She tried
to reach for it, but he took advantage of his towering height and kept it away from her where
she couldn't reach.

The death eater, started rummaging through it as Hermione huffed an angry breath, folding
her arms across her chest as he started pulling the things she had brought out of her bag in
distaste.

"Tinned peaches, green beans, carrots, kidney beans," he muttered behind his mask,
carelessly chucking them on the floor between their feet, letting them clatter. "Seriously? Is
that the best you could do?"

"We're on the run." She gritted through her teeth. "What did you expect?"

His fiery gaze met hers, agitation flaring in them. "You can't live off this. You need the
nutrients. Protein, fats, and sugars. Carbohydrates, Granger. If you eat this, you'll be scrawny
and too weak to fight when the time comes."

"Sorry to burst your bubble," Hermione said thick sarcasm lacing her tone. "But this is all I
can afford. We'll get the protein from rabbits that we will hunt."

The Death Eater snorted incredulously as though what she had just said was ridiculous,
continuing to rummage in the privacy of her bag. "Extendable extension charm. Smart and
simple." He praised, then cocked his head to the side. "What are these?" He pulled out a box
of tampons, turning it in his hand, narrowing his eyes in curiosity.

"Tampons." She bluntly replied, and she could tell he was raising a brow at her, wanting her
to elaborate further. "I put them inside me to help with my periods. Need any further
explanation?"

The Death Eater dropped them back in as though he were disgusted, a shuddering grimace in
his body language. "Seriously, you just leave it lodged up there? How atrocious and
uncomfortable."

"Good job you're not a woman then." She spat, a sarcastic smile forming on her lips.

"Quite," he clipped, his smooth, deep voice sending a chill up her spine. "Here's the deal," he
continued, shoving the tins back into her bag and handing it back to her, or rather pushing it
into her chest. "Once a week, I shall come by no matter where you are and bring
you proper food for you to eat."

Hermione scoffed, strapping her bag back across her chest and abdomen. "Yeah, right. You'll
probably lace it with poison. Thanks, but no thanks. I don't trust you."
"As I expected." He nodded, unoffended by her tone. "But I shall not poison you. I'm here for
a good reason: I don't want you to die. If I did, I would've killed you at the wedding."

"But your master does. He wants Harry. I'm with Harry; you obviously know that considering
you found me."

"I'm not here for Potter either." He shook his head, sniffing deeply, his eyes bored.

"Then what are you here for?"

The pools of grey softened slightly behind his mask, staring into her soul. A tiny bit of
gratitude was in them, for what though she wasn't certain. But it was there; she could see it.

"For you. I have a job to do for a friend of mine, and I intend to see it through."

"You mean Malfoy?" She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

The Death Eater nodded once, reaching his hand out and turning it over, brushing his
knuckles against her jawline. She held her breath as she felt the heat of his skin under his
glove. "You saved his life. Twice. And his mother's. He doesn't know how you managed to do
it with the cabinet, but his best friend Nott mentioned that you saved him in the bathroom that
night. Consider this a token of his gratitude to watch your back and keep you safe so you can
finish what you're needing to do."

Hermione snatched his wrist, and pushed his hand away from her. "I don't want his gratitude.
I regret it. Malfoy means nothing to me, I hate him. Kindly pass that message along, would
you?"

A swirl of hurt crossed his eyes, but it vanished just quickly as it had appeared she was pretty
sure she had imagined it altogether.

"Pity," the malice in his tone was back, and he closed the space between them, glaring down
at her. "He's going to be disappointed to hear that."

"I don't care," she shot back, refusing to back down, matching his glare. "He's nothing but a
vile bully. Prejudiced and selfish. I regret everything that I did."

The Death Eater heaved a heavy, growling breath, a thundering death glare behind his mask,
and as she heard him inhale, whatever it was he was about to say died on the tip of his tongue
as he shot his eyes over her head. The glare disappeared, his eyes rounding, and then the next
thing she knew, he turned her around, quickly slapped his hand over her mouth, his other
snaking around her waist, and dragged her back into the darkest part of the forest.

Hermione kicked her legs at him, screaming a muffled protest behind his palm as he dragged
her up and tightened his arm around her waist, pressing his back up against the tree.

"Quiet, Granger!" He hissed into her ear, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand as
she clawed at his arms. "Snatchers are here!"
Hermione whimpered, freezing in place with both hands wrapped around his wrist, clasped
against her mouth. She felt him shift, behind her his head coming in close proximity beside
hers as he poked his head out from where they were hiding, his fingers digging into her cheek
at a firm but not painful pressure.

"Someone's here," one of them said, stepping into the clearing where they once stood.

Draco watched them, carefully eyes locked on them, watching their movements with a
passed-out Muggle girl in their arms. There were three of them, wearing shaggy clothing and
greasy hair. Skin filthy, sneering as they tracked the footprints they had left behind.

Granger squirmed in his arms, her arse accidentally pressing into his crotch. He bit his tongue
to stifle a moan at her warm body pressed up against him. "Stop squirming. They'll hear
you," he whispered sharply into her ear through clenched teeth.

Do not get turned on. Do not get turned on. You'll freak her out. He chastised in his head,
regretting putting her back up against his chest and her waist level with his from the slope
against the tree.

She stayed still, tapping her finger against the back of his hand to get his attention.

"What?"

"Can't...breathe..." she said in a muffled tone. Draco rolled his eyes, but then caught what she
meant, realising he was blocking her airways through her nose. Damn him and his large hand.
He adjusted his hand to only clasp against her mouth, and he felt her exhale in relief but very
quietly.

"Stay still; they'll go away in a moment."

Granger nodded, resting the back of her head against his shoulder.

Draco swallowed thickly as he felt her relax in his arms. The coconut scent of her hair
flooded his airways as he pulled his head away from the snatchers and pulled her in closer to
him as much as he could get, his fingers absentmindedly tracing her lower abdomen.

Granger shivered against his body, a soft sigh passing through her lips, her hot breath
connecting against the leather of his glove, seeping through to his palm.

Draco took a deep breath to keep himself composed and focused on his hearing on the
snatchers instead of the witch that crawled under his skin pressed up against him. She was so
small, skinny, but she fit perfectly against him.

A tiny smirk made its way onto his mouth, as he looked through the holes of his mask to the
side of her face studying her up close. Her honey eyes were wide, staring to the side waiting
for them to piss off. Her button nose, brushed with freckles, glowed under the moonlight,
light and airbrushed, peeking through her skin tone, her chest heaving quietly.

Merlin, how had he not seen it before? She truly was the most stunning witch he had ever
come across.
She made his blood boil in frustration, and she hadn't even done anything wrong.

"There's no one here, Scabiour." One of them whined. "Let's go. She's heavy."

Draco ripped his eyes away from Granger's side profile and carefully poked his head out
from behind the tree to find them giving up the search.

Scabiour removed himself from his crouched position, scanning his eyes through the trees.
Draco ducked back behind the tree, just as he looked into their direction and held his breath,
pressing his hand flat across Granger's flat tummy, staying extremely still.

Nothing happened.

Until he heard Scabiour taking a heavy, deep breath. "Whoever they are, they can't hide
forever." He shouted maliciously. "I will find them. Just like I'll find Potter's mudblood
bitch."

Granger flinched in terror against Draco.

"Sh," he hushed into her ear, clenching his teeth. "Stay still, Granger. I won't let him get you."
He promised, tracing soothing circles into her lower abdomen.

Granger nodded against his shoulder, shakily exhaling through her nose. He heard her
gulping in fear, her feet shifting as one of her hands left his wrist, coming down behind her
and curling around his thigh, clinging onto him as though she needed to be sure he was still
there.

Not helping.

"Once I've found her," Scabiour continued cackling into the damp night air. "We're going to
have the time of our lives!" He chuckled, and Draco restrained himself from grabbing his
wand to kill him right there, knowing full well what he meant by that statement.

They held their breaths against the tree as their footsteps retreated away from them in the
opposite direction of where they were hiding.

Draco could feel her heart pounding in fear around his ring, and he waited several heartbeats
until he couldn't hear the crunching of the leaves, and when he was satisfied that they were
gone, he checked and saw that they were alone once again. He removed his hand from her
mouth, pushed her gently forwards, then grabbed at her bicep in a tight grip and began
dragging her back to her tent.

"Let's go," he clipped, keeping a tight grip on her arm, scanning the forest for any more as
she stumbled behind him in his long strides.

Granger silently allowed him to drag her, but he could feel her eyes glued to the back of his
hood trying to work out who he was. They walked a further ten paces until he caught the
shimmer of a ward only he could see with her thanks to his charms.
He pulled her in front of him and grabbed at her shoulders, urging her to go back. "Go get
some rest; I'll send some food to you." He said as he let her go, putting space between them.

Granger refused to move her eyes, calculating him. "Thank you." She whispered.

"You're welcome," he replied. "From now on, only leave when it's not dark. They're
everywhere, Granger. Don't be reckless. One wrong move and it's all over."

Granger nodded, tightening her hand around the thin strap of her bag. "Will you tell me who
you are?"

Draco hesitated slipping his wand out from his holster against his arm, but he didn't say
anything.

"You're obviously a spy." She continued her eyes searching his. "Why else would you save
me?"

"Go back to your tent, Granger." He pointed over her shoulder, hardening his eyes at her in a
warning.

She ignored him. Of course she bloody would, taking one step closer to him, her brain ticking
in overdrive trying to see who he was. "Do I know you? Can you answer me that at least?
Have we met before, other than at the wedding?"

Draco's jaw ticked. His eye twitching in agitation. "Yes." He forced it through his teeth.

Her breath hitched, scanning him harder.

Draco took three steps towards her and wrapped his fingers around her shoulder, carefully
pushing her backwards until her spine ghosted the wards. "Go. I won't tell you again. And if
you leave the wards, I will know."

Granger sighed in disappointment and turned but hesitated, looking at him once more. "Can I
at least know your name?" She asked, a small plead in her voice.

"No." He said, and her shoulders slumped. "Not today anyway."

That seemed to brighten her spirits as she nodded, offered him a tight smile, then disappeared
through the wards, causing them to ripple as she passed through. He sensed that she was still
there, staring at him on the other side, but he couldn't see her.

He waited for several minutes, and then once he was satisfied she wasn't coming back out, he
disapparated straight back to Malfoy Manor in his room. He gathered some food together
when he got down to the kitchens filled with bread, fresh meat, vegetables, and fruit. Some
sweets and loaded it up into a basket for her.

Draco took it back to his room and pulled her up on the mirror and found her reading a book
at the bench in her tent called Beadle The Bard. A warm smile on her lips in the candlelight
as she flipped through the pages made his own heart stutter stupidly.
 He snapped his fingers, the basket disappearing from beside him in a snap, leaving his room,
and watched as it appeared beside her in the mirror, startling her. He watched her as her
brows furrowed in confusion as she grabbed it and looked through it.

Then he caught the gratitude on her face as she pulled out everything he had packed for her
and placed a statis on the food to keep it all fresh.

"Thank you, whoever you are." She whispered to no one, but he heard it as she dimmed the
candle out, giving him nothing but darkness in return.

"You're welcome, Granger."

Draco smiled for the first time in over a year.

Chapter End Notes

An answer to some of your questions of what he's doing to avoid going back to school.

I won't be updating now for a few days I previously had all three chapters started, need
to get back to my other WIPS.

Also can I just point out that she's not going to realise it's him, she's never truly looked
him in the eyes to pay attention to his colour when he was bleeding out he mainly had
his eyes shut. Plus he's hiding himself, he doesn't want her to know it's him just yet 😊
Thank you for the kind generous comments it truly makes my day to see that we're only
beginning and you're already enjoying it.

Hope to hear your thoughts, see you at the next chapter 🫶

 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Malfoy Manor the next day-

Narcissa stood behind her husband, watching his sunken facial features in the mirror in front
of them. His grey eyes were dead and far away, dark circles smudging under them. His
cheeks sunken in, the horrible Azkaban tattoo imprinted onto his neck. She sighed softly as
his eyes met hers; they brightened up for a moment as he looked at her, then back to dead as
he let her brush his long blonde hair.

Lucius didn't smile. She couldn't remember the last time that he had smiled at her or Draco.
His lips were flat pressed into a thin line, grim and ashamed of his ventures with the Death
Eaters. Around his lips, along his jawbone, and up to his sideburns were prickly with a rough
white stubble. His skin was almost grey, as though he were ill.

Her lips twitched into a frail smile as she placed the brush down on the dressing table and
grabbed some of her hair lotion that Lucius secretly loved to keep his hair sleek and neat and
slathered some on her hands, running her fingers through his hair.

He hummed happily, tilting his head back at her gentle, caressing touch, untangling his
freshly clean hair. She watched him over his head in the mirror of their bedroom to find his
eyes closed in relaxation. A ghost of a smile gracing his thin lips.

Merlin, she missed his smile. It's what had made her swoon, back in Hogwarts before they
were betrothed to one another. For a man that was always stone-faced around others, he had
the most beautiful smile around.

Draco had inherited that from him. Beautiful men, beautiful smiles.

Though she couldn't recall the last time she had even seen her son smile either. She supposed
Christmas in his fifth year. That was the last time she had seen Draco smile.

She missed the men that her boys were. They were both walking, living, breathing ghosts
around the manor. Depressed and anxious for their next mission with the monster that had
taken over their home.

Narcissa smiled with him, using her fingers to massage his scalp, and Lucius took a relaxing
deep breath in and out, his shoulders untensing as he settled back in the chair. She then
concentrated on his hair and pulled it back, smoothing the top of his head and gathering it
around to place it in a ponytail.

"He hates me, doesn't he?" Lucius said in a scratchy voice that was taking ages to heal since
Azkaban.
Narcissa froze her hands around the hair tie and met her husband's eyes in the mirror. His
smile was gone, drained and miserable.

"Who?"

"Draco," Lucius swallowed his Adam's apple, catching on the collar of his robes. "He won't
talk to me or look at me, darling."

Narcissa's heart sank at the vulnerability in his eyes. "Of course he doesn't hate you." Lucius
gave her a disbelieving look in the reflection. "Okay, maybe getting the mark isn't what he
wanted. But that doesn't mean that he hates you."

"He blames me; I know he does."

"Voldemort made him take it, love," she reminded him. "It was either he take it or he kill me
and our son. What would you rather? Draco didn't hesitate, taking it to keep us alive. I didn't
want him to as much as you didn't."

"Yes, because I failed." His tone turned defensive, his hands curling into fists against the
arms of the chair. "I failed and gave our son a death sentence. I'm the worst father in the
world."

Narcissa sighed heavily through her nose, picking up a black ribbon and draping it around his
hair to hold his hair in place. "You're not. You just got carried away on the wrong side. Draco
will come around; believe me. He seems different since returning from school, don't you
think?"

"In what way?"

Narcissa shrugged one shoulder, picking up her brush once again, and brushed at the ends of
his hair. "He seems, what's the word I can use?" She pursed her lips in thought. "I don't
know...in love maybe?"

Lucius scrunched his nose, narrowing his eyes at his wife in curiosity. "With whom?"

"Now that I don't know," she softly laughed, turning Lucius around and summoning his
shaving kit to her side and a white towel. She draped it around his shoulders and dipped her
fingers into the water to moisten his skin. "But haven't you noticed he's been a bit
preoccupied since he came back?"

"How should I know? He avoids me at every opportunity."

Narcissa rolled her eyes and dipped his shaving brush into the cream and spread it all across
his stubble. "Well, Theo told me on his way out a few weeks ago, Draco's not going back to
school for his seventh year."

"Don't blame him with the Carrows going. Nasty them two."

Narcissa nodded, grabbing his shaving knife, and tilted his chin back with two fingers and
started at his throat, scraping up carefully. "Theo also mentioned he keeps looking in his
mirror. He said he was probably just eyeing himself up, but apparently Draco said that there
was something that he needed to do and caught him staring at it a lot."

"What's that then?" Lucius asked, his brows pinching, wondering what his son was up to.

"Theo asked him, but Draco refused to tell him. I don't know, love. Even if he's not in love, I
can just tell there's a girl involved."

Lucius nodded carefully as she shaved him all up his neck; he placed his hands on her slim
waist, opening his legs to allow her closer as he pulled her closer to him. "Do you think it's
the Granger girl? The one he always used to talk about?"

"I doubt it," she frowned, rinsing the blade, then started down his sideburns on the left-hand
side of his face. "I've not heard one nice thing about that girl come out of his mouth." Her jaw
clenched, the words mudblood Granger echoed in her mind from when her son was younger.

Lucius smoothed his hands up and down her waist. "What would you do if it were her, let's
say?"

Narcissa looked him right in the eyes, leaning back for his honest reaction. "What would you
do? I know you don't like her very much because of her blood." She turned it on him.

Narcissa already knew what she would do if Draco ever admitted that he was in love with a
muggle-born. She'd lost her sister for loving a muggle-born man; she wouldn't make the same
mistake her own mother had and lose her son forever.

He was her world.

But she wanted to know how Lucius would feel if this was what was going on with him. True
or not, she wanted to be prepared if he ever spoke of it.

"I'd be happy for him." Lucius said proudly, his beautiful smile back on his face.

Narcissa searched his eyes back and forth, having a thought that he was just saying that to not
push Draco away further and lose him or her for that matter. But as she searched his eyes, she
didn't see a lie in them anywhere. Not even a small glint. His eyes were open and honest,
with nothing but pure support.

"And if he's doing something for her, then we'll help him keep her safe too. I promise."
Lucius finished rubbing his thumbs into her waistline.

"Do you mean that?" She whispered, brushing her thumb over his brow line.

"I do. I want my son back, and if this is what he wants, then I feel if I show my support he'll
forgive me one day."

Draco stood on the other side of their door, hardly able to believe what he was hearing,
sneering at his father through the crack as his parents shared a sweet kiss with one another. Is
he in love with Granger? Preposterous. He wasn't in love with her.
He was just helping her; that's all there was to it. And his father wanted to help? Not a fat
chance in hell was that happening. He didn't trust him as far as he could throw him. Draco
suspected he was just saying that to earn his family's trust back after everything he had done
since Draco was born and long before that.

All right, maybe he felt something odd there for her, but it definitely wasn't love. He didn't
know what it was. Gratitude? Seeing her in a new light? Trusted her? Yes, she was prettier
than he had ever noticed before, and maybe he got a bit irritated that she still saw him as a
bully, though he couldn't blame her, of course, but that didn't mean he was in love with her.

He...liked—tolerated her?

Ridiculous thought. Bloody Theo and his big mouth mentioning the mirror. He'd definitely be
warding his room from now on.

Draco grimaced as their kiss deepened and briskly walked away before he witnessed
something he'd rather not. Least he wanted to rip his own eyes out and headed down the
stairs, sneaking past the drawing room where Bellatrix was practicing her duelling, and
headed straight out to the gardens and apparated away in his deatheater robes. Mask in hand.

~♡~

Hampstead-

Draco walked around Grangers empty family home, eyeing in disgust at the damage the other
deatheaters had caused to her home on their hunt for her and her parents. She didn't know
this, but he had been there too, watching her from outside, wiping their memories until their
faces were a blank picture, and seeing the distraught but brave expression across her face as
she did so.

He knew it was hard for her, and her parents honestly looked like decent, kind, sweet people,
and he knew that she was blaming herself for it.

Because after all, if she hadn't fixed the cabinet, Dumbledore would still be alive.

Possibly, considering Snape had been the one to kill him instead of Draco and the cabinet had
been the door to unlock easier access to Potter. That was the whole point of it, incase he went
back to school and Voldemort could get to him quicker.

Draco traced his fingers against the scorch marks of her grey tabby cat wallpaper, a rose
design across the wall, grinding his teeth that they had set fire to her home. The windows
were caved in, the fireplace in the front room smashed to pieces, and the front door blasted to
splinters. Walls caved in and destroyed. Even the stairs were broken in dangerous places; he
didn't dare to even try to go up.

He stopped at the doorway that led to the kitchen at the back of the house and walked in, his
boots crunching against the plaster and broken glass underneath him.
Even the kitchen was a mess.

Appliances in millions of pieces that he honestly didn't know what they were or what they
were even called. The sink was busted, water gushing out at a fast waterfall pace, creating a
river across the white tiled floor. The double white panel doors that lead to a porch on the
back were blown off their hinges.

He sighed heavily through his nose as he took a good look around at the one place Granger
felt the safest in.

Her home.

A year ago, Draco wouldn't have cared what had happened to her, her parents, or her home.
Wouldn't even bat an eyelid that the Death Eaters would come here and take out their rage,
discovering that she was gone and destroying her security.

But that all changed.

Granger put her life on the line to help him when he truly didn't deserve it and sacrificed her
family and her home for Potter still despite the circumstances.

She'd lost everything, and he wanted her to have it back when this was all over.

If it would ever end, of course.

Then once the job would be done, she'd still be alive by the end of it, her parents could return,
he'd leave her alone, and willingly go to Azkaban for his role in the war on the dark side.
He'd die happy in there knowing he had returned the favour and kept her alive to let her be
free, safe, and happy to marry and have children.

His stomach churned, and it startled him when he thought about her marrying another man or
having children with them. He stared half dazed out of the window at the oak tree across the
garden, a frightening image of him and her somewhere long after the war, surrounded by two
running kids with blonde hair and brown eyes, or the opposite way around whilst her belly
swelled for their third.

Granger was taking his hand in hers and placing it over her tummy for him to feel him or her
kick with a big fat Malfoy heirloom wedding ring on her finger and a silver ring on his
fourth.

Draco snapped back to reality, a cold chill running up his spine, getting rid of those thoughts
altogether, shaking his head. He grimaced, scowling to himself, and concentrated on what he
came here to do in the first place.

"Suppose I'd better start with you first," he ground out at the sink as though it was its fault for
his betraying thoughts and whipped his wand out, crossing the room towards it.

His combat boots sloshed against the musky water as he walked up to it and tapped the tip of
his wand against the burst main pipe, and it re-mended itself back together. The water
stopped immediately, the kitchen going quiet as he muttered under his breath and mended the
cabinets with precise, careful strokes of his wand.

About an hour in, and the kitchen was almost back to its normal design. Draco vanished the
water that had destroyed the floors and cleaned the tiles with a scourgify, making them shine
and smell clean.

Then he turned to face the full room and waved his wand in one long motion across in front
of him and watched as he smiled a tiny bit, everything mending itself back together piece by
piece. Until the doors were back where they belonged, the windows were fixed, and the
muggle appliances put themselves back to where they belonged.

Lastly, he removed the thick, suffocating, damp air of mould and asbestos lingering in the air
and used his wand to make the oxygen smell like fresh cinnamon.

(Not that he had noticed her favourite thing to put in her hot chocolate was cinnamon during
his time at school over the years.) No. Definitely not.

He was just a good observer of everything and everyone.

"Sorted," he sighed in relief, proud of his work, and moved on to the next room and crouched
in front of the fireplace, tapping the bricks to slot themselves back in.

As he waited patiently for the bricks to slot themselves back into place, he got the sixth sense
that he was being glared at somewhere behind him.

He gripped his wand tight in his hand and kept his back to them, standing to his full height. A
deadly sneer tugging at his lips, ready to attack whoever was here, he turned around fast,
blasting a hex at the intruder, but instead all he saw was something orange scampering away
as the red-hot spell blasted another damn hole in the wall.

"For fuck's sake," Draco grumbled at the mess he had made further and ran a frustrated hand
through his hair, walking off to go and find whatever it was that was in here with him.

Draco walked down the narrow hallway, eyes hard, wand trained in front of him when he
heard an animal growling coming from behind an ajar door underneath the stairs.

He used the toe of his boot to open it carefully outwards, narrowing his eyes into the darkness
as the door creaked, and he locked eyes with two furious amber eyes in the dark.

"What the--"

Draco was interrupted when an orange fluffball creature pounced at his leg, growling and
clawing at his calf and shin.

Ever the pureblood, man and Death Eater that he was, he was ashamed when a girlish scream
ripped through his vocal cords as the creature attacked him for no fucking reason.

"Ow! Get off!" He shook his leg, bracing his hands up against the walls, catching it was a cat
attacking his leg. "Ow! Get the fuck off me!" He yelled, hissing in agony as the cat scratched,
bit, and bunny rabbit kicked his back legs into his flesh.

He lost his patience and bent down, grabbing it by the scruff off the neck and ripping it off
harshly from his leg. A warm trickle of blood dripped down to his ankle as he held the cat in
a tight grip and brought it to his eye level.

"Of course it's you," he sneered, recognising it straight away, his skin burning. "Beast."

Crookshanks bared his teeth, swinging his front paw out, claws sharp, and caught Draco's
cheek, producing three long, red-hot scratches across his cheekbone.

Draco growled at the back of his throat as his skin stung and he felt a dribble of blood
dripping down his face and under his jawline. "Nasty little thing. I was hoping that you had
died."

Crookshanks went in for another, but Draco dodged it just in time, gripping his fur harder,
making him yelp.

"Yeah. Not nice being hurt, is it?" He taunted the creature, catching his tail curl in between
his legs. "I'm not here like the others were. I'm here to help your owner. Stop being a little
fuck and let me finish what I came to do."

Crookshanks whined, his huge amber eyes glaring into Draco's soul, trying to get himself
free.

He wasn't having that. Draco conjured a cage and shoved him in it, locking it up and
removing his fingers from the bars before the vile thing bit them off. "You're staying there.
Next thing you'll probably try and scratch my eyes out." He glowered at him through the
bars, puffing his robes out.

Crookshanks growled, his hackles spiking up. "Cut it out, fluffball," he snapped his fingers,
and he was quite surprised when he obeyed. "I'm not as bad as I look."

He knew he sounded like an idiot talking to it, but he didn't care. Without healing himself,
Draco left him alone in the cage whilst he finished cleaning up the front room until
everything was back to how it should look.

By the time the front room was done, the sun was already setting, and he felt exhausted from
all the repair magic he had used.

He made to leave when he caught Crookshanks protesting to get out. Draco arched one brow
as the amber eyes softened through the bars, and honestly, he looked rather lonely, sad, and
starving.

Draco sighed heavily, crossing the room towards it and crouching down in front of the cage.
"It will open when I leave. I don't trust you not to attack me again."

Crookshanks gently slipped his paw through the bars and pawed at his hand, claws away in a
soft touch.
"Not a chance. I'm not letting you out." He clipped, scowling at him.

Crookshanks whimpered, shuffling back into the shadowy parts of the cage and laying down,
curling in on himself, resting his chin on his paws. A deep sigh puffing through his triangle
wet pink nose.

Draco's jaw rippled as he studied him carefully, sensing he was rather upset about Granger's
absence. "You miss her, don't you?" He said in a much softer tone.

Crookshanks looked up at him with glassed-over amber eyes, blinking once at him as if to
say yes.

Draco rolled his tongue on the inside of his cheek, sucking the air through his teeth,
wondering if he had truly lost his mind even considering this.

"If you promise not to attack me ever again, then you can come with me until she comes
home." He gave in, another thought that Granger would probably hate him further if she
came home and found her cat starved to death in a cage created by him.

Crookshanks seemed to like that idea as he started purring and stood up in his cage, brushing
the side of his body against the bars, trying to get close to him.

Draco cautiously stuck his finger through the bar and patted him once on the head, quickly
removing it before he switched to evil mode and picked up the cage, standing to his full
height.

"We're not friends," he said. "You're just a lodger until Granger comes back."

Crookshanks purred happily, yawning and lying back down on the flat base.

Draco's nose twitched in irritation, rolling his eyes as he placed a heavy ward over the
Granger residence and apparated straight back into his own room. He placed Crookshanks
down on his old toy chest at the foot of his bed, leaving him in the cage as he walked across
the room towards his mini bar.

Crookshanks protested to get out, looking around his room in curiosity, and Draco waved his
hand at the door, letting him loose, but kept a wary eye on the creature as he poured himself a
glass of Firewhiskey, watching the beast sniff the air and his belongings.

He kept himself at a reasonable distance, then slipped out when Crookshanks was too busy
getting used to his new room. He headed downstairs and grabbed two bowls, placing one
with shredded chicken in stealing it from the house elves preparing their dinner and another
filled with milk, and headed back upstairs, closing his door shut behind him and placing them
down on the floor for him.

Crookshanks bounded over, licking his lips, and pretty much gulped down the chicken and
lapped at the milk whilst Draco watched him from his bed, his brow lifted, sipping on his
Firewhiskey.
Once he was done, Crookshanks stretched his front legs out in front of him, his claws
scratching against his floorboards, and then looked up at Draco, tilting his head to the side.

Draco paused his next sip, glaring at him. "What? What do you want from me now?"

Crookshanks padded over him, and Draco immediately shifted back, preparing to fling
himself off the other side of the bed as Crookshanks jumped up and slanted himself in
Draco's lap before he could get away from him.

Draco froze as though he had been petrified, his bones shaking as he stared wide-eyed at the
creature trying to get himself comfy, turning around on his lap. Then he found himself
comfortable and laid down, crossing his paws over Draco's right leg and resting his chin
against his paws, sighing sleepily as his eyes closed.

Draco didn't know what to do. He was too scared to move or do anything, so he sat there and
ran a frightened, though cautious, hand through the thick orange fur, being careful not to
startle him.

But as Crookshanks began to purr, nuzzling in closer to him, Draco began to relax and stroke
him a bit more easily.

"Don't get used to this beast. I still don't like you."

Draco, despite his displeasure towards Granger's cat, found himself going to sleep that night
with said cat curled in at his side, his hand wrapped around him protectively, his thumb
brushing his soft pink tummy the entire time in a comforting gesture.

~♡~

Hermione-

It was Hermione's turn to do night watch as she sat by the fire, reading some stories in the
Tales of Beedle The Bard ,trying to find some clues on why Dumbledore had left it to her in
his will.

She couldn't find anything just yet, but there had to be a reason for it. Though every few
pages she kept finding a symbol of a triangle, a circle inside of it, and a straight line going
from the top down to the bottom of the triangle.

She wasn't sure what it meant, but she was determined to find out.

Tomorrow they were leaving and moving somewhere else. They decided to stick to a week in
each area, just to be safe, and they'd have to walk since Ron wasn't strong enough to travel by
apparition just yet.
The boys were asleep as the fire crackled and popped, warming her legs as she sat up against
a tree, rubbing her cold hands together. Harry had apologised to her this morning for his
behaviour and taken the locket off, giving it to Ron for his turn, and hugged her, saying that
he didn't mean it.

She knew that, of course. It wasn't his fault.

Both of them had questioned her on where all of the food had mysteriously come from after
she had made them a hearty breakfast, and she had lied and said that she found some extra
money in the bottom of her bag that could last them for a few more months.

She definitely wasn't going to tell them that a Death Eater had quite literally protected her
from being snatched or given her the food to keep her healthy.

Ron and Harry wouldn't take that well. If he was going to keep bringing food by, then she had
to lie and mention she had more money than she had originally thought.

And as promised, he hadn't poisoned it either.

Hermione sighed happily to herself, her tummy warm and full on the chicken roast she had
cooked up for them, feeling better in herself as she read peacefully to herself, listening to the
crickets chirping.

"Which part of stay behind the wards after nightfall didn't I make clear, Granger?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, annoyed, and shot her eyes up to the Death Eater stranger standing
opposite the fire, his arms across his chest and his fingers drumming against his arm. Grey
eyes glaring angrily at her.

Mask glowing in a bright gold from the flames of the fire.

"Hello, Granger. Nice to see you again, Granger. How was the food that I sent you? To your
satisfaction?" She mocked sarcastically, going back to her book. "Why, thank you for asking,
Mr. Death Eater Stranger. I'm doing well, and yourself? The food was perfectly exquisite.
Just splendid." She placed her book higher to hide her creeping smirk from him.

He cleared his throat forcefully, and she peeked up over her book, barely able to contain her
smirk at his stony, steely eyes cutting into her like a knife.

If she had to guess she could picture him under his mask to keep himself hidden, sneering at
her for her sarcasm.

"Sarcastic, mouthy little witch, aren't you?" The Death Eater spat.

"Well, given that you seem to know me so well, I should imagine you should know that
already." She flipped her page too hard, dropping her smirk.

He grumbled something behind the silver face that she didn't understand, hands balling at his
sides. "What are you doing past the wards?" He drawled, his shoulders rising and falling as
he took a deep breath.
"Who says I'm past them?"

"Pardon?"

Hermione huffed an irritated breath, waving her hand towards the very visible tent five feet
away from them. He looked at it, but he did it too quickly and had to double-check.
Hermione heard him growl something that sounded like, Are you fucking kidding me? As his
hands unclenched and shoulders slumped, he glanced at her again.

His left eye twitched at her as though it was her fault.

Hermione lifted her book to block him, snuggling her back up against the tree, and paid her
attention to her book once again. "If that's all that you came here for. Then you can go; I'm
not in any danger tonight."

The Death Eater didn't say anything for a very long time. She half expected him to be gone
given how quietly he just liked to sneak up on her or even apparate in. But when she looked
over her book to see if he had left, he was still standing there just staring at her stupidly.

"I thought you were leaving?"

"I was."

"Then go."

"I will in a second, Granger."

"Why are you hesitating?"

He scoffed, limping slightly on his left leg as he shifted from foot to foot. "I'm not
hesitating."

"Then why aren't you leaving?" She asked in curiosity.

"Blimey woman, you ask a lot of questions!" The Death Eater snapped, scowling at her
through the eye holes, brushing off his robes.

Hermione snorted at his snippy attitude; he seemed to have a chip on his shoulder. "Well, if
you're not leaving, want to join me for a bit?" She patted the space beside her, offering him to
sit there.

That took him by surprise as he gave her a concerned look. "Are you being serious?"

"Immensely."

He hesitated once again, still shifting from foot to foot, looking ready to bolt at any second.
He was probably a bit shocked that she was suddenly being nice to him given their first two
encounters, but honestly if he was so bad, then he would've killed her at the wedding, let
Greyback have her, or tossed her to the snatchers 2 nights ago.
Yet he hadn't.

She felt as if she could trust him for someone she didn't even know.

"Fine," he rounded the fire, limping the entire time, and sat down next to her, keeping at a
safe distance as he stretched his left leg out in front of him.

"What's the matter with your leg?" She eyed it, raising one brow in suspicion.

"Nothing. Duelling practice. I got injured."

Hermione closed her book, sitting up on her knees and locking eyes with him. "Do you want
me to take a look at it?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm okay."

"Let me take a look. You shouldn't be apparating with an injury." She went to reach for his
leg when his hand shot out and snatched her wrist, leaning in closer to her and pushing her
back against the tree, caging her in.

"I said that I'm fine." He cruelly declared, the nose of his mask almost touching hers as his
eyes turned a viscous molten silver, seething.

Hermione's breath hitched in her chest, brushing against him; he was that close to her. She
caught briefly his eyes flicking to her lips, and her heart stuttered; practically heard the self-
scolding in his head as he glared at her, then let her go, moving away from her.

Hermione grabbed at her wrist, scowling at the side of his masked face, and roughly snatched
her book up from the leaves, sighing roughly. "Only asked. Prick."

The Death Eater just grunted, bending his right knee up, crossing his arms over his chest,
watching her read over her shoulder.

Nothing else was said between them, apart from him muttering for her to turn the next page
once he was done reading with her.

Her heart soared; butterflies fluttered in her stomach each time he spoke or shuffled closer to
her to read it better.

So she did, biting back a smile the entire time. And as the hours passed and the fire started to
dim out, Hermione's eyes grew heavy, and she found herself leaning her head against her
mystery Death Eater's shoulder as sleep started to take her, too exhausted to move.

He didn't move away this time.

Instead as she drifted off, she felt his chin rest against the top of her head and one arm snake
around her side to keep her comfortable against him. His hand smoothing up and down her
bicep in a caring gesture, keeping her warm whilst she listened to his heart, wondering who
he was under all of his robes and hidden identity.
 When Hermione woke the next morning, she found herself no longer outside, but instead
back in her tent on her cot, blanket draped over her, shoes off, and her book dog-eared on the
table beside her on the last page that they had read together.

The Death Eater was gone without a goodbye.

Hermione woke up in a foul mood that morning, a scary part of her wishing he hadn't left
without saying goodbye to her.

Or at all.

Chapter End Notes

I had enough time to fit one more in for you all 🥰

What do you all think? Draco seems to be at a war with himself huh?

🤭🤭
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! ❤️
 Chapter 5
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

"What's up with her?" Harry flinched as Hermione clattered the pots and pans about in a foul
mood, shoving them into her bag.

"Why don't you ask her?" Ron suggested, too terrified to ask, as he folded up his clothes one-
handed.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it as she grabbed a handful of knives
and chucked them into her beaded bag.

Did he want a stab in the shoulder whilst she was as pissed as she was? No, thank you.

Hermione was grumbling under her breath. Her brows pinched together in anger, snatching
things to place into her bag whilst they packed up to move elsewhere.

Ron nervously pushed him forward, clearing his throat and pretty much legging it around the
corner as Harry's stumbling footsteps caught her fiery attention.

"What?" She snipped, glaring at Harry with a knife in her hand.

Harry killed Ron in his head for putting him in the firing line of her temper. "What's the
matter?" He asked, his eyes flicking to the knife in her white-knuckled grip.

"Me? I'm fine. Perfect, Harry. Splendid. Just peachy." She sarcastically said, shoving the last
knife into her bag, and whipped her wand out, shrinking down the bench.

"Uh huh. Sure, sure," he gulped, his fingers nervously twisting in front of him as she stormed
past him, knocking her shoulder with his on her way past.

Ron poked his head out from his cot room, eyes darting around anxiously. "Pst."

Harry rubbed at his shoulder, turning to face Ron cocking a brow at him, shaking his head.

"Is the coast clear? Can I come out without being hexed?" He whispered, shifting nervously
on his feet, checking she was gone about four times.

"Get out here, you idiot!" Harry stormed over to him and grabbed at his shoulder. "Thank you
very much for shoving me in front of her. You know what she's like when she's in a foul
mood."

"I only have one good arm left," he made a point by moving it about. "I'd like to be able to
use my right one for--"
"Don't need to know!" Harry interjected, shuddering, before he could even dare to finish that
sentence. "Keep your private time to yourself."

Ron tutted, rolling his eyes at his best friend. "I didn't mean that. I meant to use my wand."

Harry scrunched his nose. "Yeah, that didn't make it sound any better, but," he ran a hand
through his hair, grabbing his bag from the floor and shrugging it onto his shoulder. "Come
on, let's go before she murders us."

Ron nodded, shrugging his own bag onto his shoulder, and followed Harry out of the tent,
where they found Hermione down by the pegs, unravelling them. Still furious, still muttering,
and neither of them had the foggiest idea as to what had pissed her off so much.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron started nervously, and her searing glare cut into his head. "Is
everything all right?"

"Fine." She sighed, standing to her full height, grabbed her wand from her coat pocket, and
tapped it against the tent as it shrunk down to a tiny ball, then shoved it into her bag. "Let's
go. We should head east. There's an abandoned nature trail, about ten miles from here. That
should do for a week." She strutted past them and headed off east without waiting for either
of them.

Harry and Ron followed on behind her, staying at a reasonable distance. The walk was
awkward, long, and tiring. Hermione stayed ahead the entire time, kicking stones out of her
path and letting them bounce off the trees.

She didn't speak one word the entire journey as they crossed over fields, a riverbank, and an
abandoned cottage in the middle of nowhere. Whatever was wrong with her, they figured that
the locket was playing a huge part in her mood swings too. She was wearing it since it was
her turn today to wear it.

That's what they had decided.

All three of them take turns to take the pressure off of Harry. Ron so far was the only one that
hadn't suffered badly from his moods. A bit grumpy, and kept listening to the radio, but other
than that, he was the only one out of the three of them that didn't seem to want to rip
everyone's heads off.

Hermione pushed open a rotten gate that led to a nature trail and tracked down the muddy
footpath that led to a small lake by the open field. She stopped, grabbing her bag, and set up
the tent whilst the boys silently helped. Then once that was done, the protective wards went
up, and she went inside and hid away in her private cot for hours until it was time for dinner.

The entire time during dinner, she stabbed at her food, scowling at it rather than eating a
single piece. Her brows hadn't stopped their furious pinching all day, and Harry and Ron
were truly convinced by the crease crevice in her skin that they were going to get stuck there
permanently.
Harry and Ron shared an awkward glance at one another, trying to work out what could've
tipped her over the edge to not utter a single word all day long. She'd been fine yesterday, all
day, even before she had gone to do night watch.

Then this morning it was as though her personality had just flipped a switch. Something had
happened during her night watch shift. They were certain of it.

Only what?

"I'll do night watch again," Hermione said, shoving her untouched dinner away from her. "I
need air." She swung her legs over the bench and stormed out, snatching The Beedle The
Bard book on her way out through the exit.

"Merlin," Ron pinched the bridge of his nose. "You'd think she's been stood up or something
with the way she's acting." He shook his head, spearing his fork into his broccoli.

Harry silently agreed, finishing off his dinner, worried for his best friend's angry behaviour.

"Selthia hexia," Hermione doubled up the wards, checking to make sure they were still strong
around their campsite. "Protego totalum." A white shimmer rippled the wards as she went
around them. "Muffilato." She sighed heavily, satisfied they were still strong, and headed
back to the fireplace.

She sparked the logs with her wand, sat down cross-legged, charmed her coat into a fluffy
blanket, and turned to the last page her mystery Death Eater had dog-eared for her.

Hermione didn't know why she was so upset about him just leaving without saying anything.
It wasn't as though they were friends or anything. He was just here to do Malfoy a favour.

She snorted as she turned to a story about the Three Brothers.

Malfoy wanted to help her and keep her safe?

Yeah, right. He hated her. She wasn't an idiot; not even someone like him could be grateful
for what she had done for him. If she had to guess, she gathered that it was someone else
pretending to say all of that.

Someone who had truly seen what she had done for him after the bathroom. Someone with a
heart that held the snake badge.

Someone like Nott or Zabini.

Perhaps one of them was doing it for him without his knowledge, perhaps. As a bargain to
keep her quiet that a mudblood had finished his task for him.

As she thought about it, she realised that there was a possibility for someone to change the
colour of their eyes. He told her he was a friend of Malfoy's. It made sense; it was one of
those two taking care of her. Either he didn't know or he did, and he didn't want anyone to
know that he hadn't been the one to complete the cabinet, but she had done it instead and
didn't want word to get out back to his master.
He was using them to keep her safe.

To keep her quiet.

Not an issue. There was no chance in hell that she was going to tell Harry and Ron what she
had done.

Malfoy was obviously embarrassed and wanted to make sure that she kept her mouth shut if
someone was watching her constantly. To make sure that she wouldn't slip and have him
punished.

But either way, after what he had done for her with the Snatchers and the food, he was kind,
and he wasn't here to hurt her.

Despite his rotten attitude and rough manhandling of her, she secretly loved the way he
handled her and spoke to her. He wasn't here to cause her harm.

If he were, then she wouldn't be here right now.

Waiting for him.

Hermione waited and waited and waited for him to show up as the hours passed, the fire
started to go out, the foxes yapped in the distance, and the crickets chirped in a musical
rhythm.

She waited all night until the sun began to rise, and she was still on the first page of the new
story she had begun to read.

He never showed up.

Disappointment settled into her bones as she sighed to herself, snapping her unread book
shut, and went back into the tent to make some breakfast. Why did it bother her so much that
he hadn't turned up?

She'd only met him 3 times for Merlin's sake. She didn't even know his name or what he
looked like under his disguise. He hadn't even said he was coming every single night, just
once a week to bring them some food. The night before, he had just come, presuming she had
left the wards when she very much hadn't, in fact.

Hermione quickly made the boys some eggs on toast, changed into some fresh clothes, and
kept the locket around her neck. Whilst they ate, she tended to Ron's arm, told Harry he
needed a haircut, and then headed out for a bit to take a walk by herself.

It was broad daylight; no snatchers would be about, and if they were, then she had a few
hexes up her sleeve to make a hasty getaway.

As she wandered through the forest, she took a moment to think about her parents. She
wondered what they were doing in their new life, if they were happy. Dentists, enjoying the
Australian sun. Laughing, carefree, enjoying a drink in the evening. Walks on the beach.
Sightseeing.
Daughter free.

Hermione's jaw trembled as she walked. Her arms wrapped around herself in a comforting
hug for herself.

Daughter free.

That's right. They didn't remember her anymore and didn't even know who she was or that
they had a daughter anymore.

A tear rolled down her cheek as she scuffed her trainers into the crusty mud. A sniffle
escaped her as she brushed it away and cleared her mind, taking a deep breath in through her
nose.

It was for the best. She did the right thing for them. It was just temporary, and then she could
go back for them once this is all over.

Hopefully.

Hermione didn't watch where she was going as she pressed her foot down onto an animal trap
trigger used by fox hunters that was hidden under some leaves. Her foot just missed it as a
pair of strong arms wrapped around her and turned her around quickly, taking her by surprise
just as the sharp teeth went to clamp around her ankle. Just scraping her jeans.

"Watch it, Granger!"

Hermione stumbled on her feet as the arms let her go, and she grabbed onto a tree to steady
herself.

"Watch where you're walking!" She looked up as she stood straight, scowling at them.

Him.

"Did you have to do that?" She glared, brushing at her hands.

The Death Eater used the toe of his boot to kick the trap between them, an angry flare in his
eyes. "These are the dangers you have to watch out for too. Not just snatchers, muggles that
like to hunt. Not everyone is kind. If I hadn't come, you would've been travelling on one
foot."

"I can take care of myself." She shot back hotly. "I don't need you to step in when I least
expect it."

"Apparently you do. You're too busy thinking," he took three long strides towards her,
pressing his fingers to the temple of his mask. "Stop thinking, Granger. You didn't even
register what you had stepped on."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, having to crane her neck to meet his gaze. "I registered
it."
He cocked his head to the side; a disbelieving scoff rumbled behind the silver skull.

"All right," she huffed. "Perhaps I didn't. I'll be more careful from now. Go away." She
shoved past him, knocking his shoulder on her way past.

Just as she made to walk off, he flicked his wand towards the path she was taking, and she
stopped abruptly as five more traps triggered and snapped, causing the leaves to jump high
into the air. Hermione gulped as he sarcastically laughed behind her.

"See my point?" He drawled cruelly right behind her. "No self-awareness whatsoever."

"Piss off."

"What's the matter with you today?"

"Nothing," she smoothed her hair back, taking a deep breath. "I just want to be alone. So go
away. I don't need you today."

She made to leave again when he crossed in front of her, causing her to run smack bang into
his chest, and he pulled the locket off of her neck. "Would you stop that?!" Hermione went to
snatch it, but he pulled it out of her reach, studying the locket carefully. "Give it back. It's
nothing to mess around with!"

"There's dark magic in this," he whispered, ignoring her, letting it swing back and forth in
front of his face. "What is it?"

Hermione folded her arms across her chest, pinching at her bicep. "It's nothing."

The Death Eater's molten eyes locked onto hers, catching her lie. "It's affecting you. Now that
it's off, your heart rate is slowing down. What's in it, Granger?"

"None of your business." She sneered, some of the anger immediately releasing from her
body. Then her brain clicked. "What do you mean my heart rate is slowing down?"

"Ever since you woke up yesterday, your heart rate has been driving me nuts. Beating rapidly
in anger, and it got worse as soon as you placed this on," he gestured to it still swinging back
and forth between his gloved fingers. "I can hear it. Speaking, but I can't work out what it is.
Keep it off from now on."

"Why can you hear my heart?" She repeated through her teeth.

"I'm not answering any of your questions, Granger. All you need to know is," he took one
crunching step towards her. "Is that I know everything that you do and everything that you
can feel." He whispered in his deep voice, warming her insides. "What is it?" He held the
locket up between them.

Hermione looked at it, swallowing to moisten her dry throat. "Horcrux."

"What?"
"A Horcrux," she said more clearly. "It's a piece of Voldem--"

The Death Eater slapped his hand to her mouth, his eyes glowing in a sudden dark warning.
"Don't. Say. His. Name." He warned as she heard a grinding noise suggesting he was
speaking with his teeth clenched. "You say his name and they'll know where you are. Do you
understand me?"

Hermione nodded, gulping as she searched his eyes through the holes.

"It's a taboo," the stranger continued. "A trap for anyone that dares to speak his name outside
of the Death Eater army. You only have to say it once, and they'll be here in a second. Do not
say his name, Granger. You stick to what you know. You-know-who. Don't ever say his
name." He warned her reverently. As if he needed to make sure that she knows not to say it.

"Okay," she said against his cold leather glove, and he slowly removed it, taking a step back
away from her. "It's a Horcrux. It has a piece of his soul inside."

"It's affecting you, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded, her gaze focused on it between them. "There's a few. This isn't the only
one."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Two are destroyed already. We've predicted six or seven in total. The diary of Tom Riddle,
Malfoy's father, he handed to Ginny in her first year." His eyes twitched at the mention of
Lucius Malfoy. "And a ring Dumbledore destroyed in sixth year. This is the third one."

"How do you destroy it?"

"We don't know," Hermione slumped her shoulders in defeat. "Harry destroyed the diary in
the Chamber of Secrets. Dumbledore didn't tell Harry how he destroyed the ring."

The Death Eater nodded, laying the Horcrux flat in his palm as he traced his index finger
over it, studying it carefully. "What happens when you destroy them all?"

"He'll become mortal," she said quietly, watching him study it in fascination. "Easier to kill.
If his soul is split into several pieces, he won't be easy to kill. That's why he looks inhuman."

The Death Eater met her eyes, a spark of hope flickering through them as he stared at her
intently. "So he can die?"

Hermione nodded, her breath hitching as he stepped up to her, and she took a step back until
her spine connected with a tree. He braced one arm beside her head, caging her in until his
chest was a centimetre away from hers. "Once all of these are destroyed. Then yes, he can
die." She whispered in a hoarse voice, her hand laid flat over his chest.

He looked down at her hand, then met her gaze, his eyes crinkling around the edges. "That's
what you're doing, isn't it?"
"Yes."

"Who else knows?"

"No one," her voice broke off in a whisper at the intensity of his gaze searing into hers. "Just
me...Harry..Ron--"

"And now me," he placed his thigh between her legs, her ankles widening beyond her
command; her hand was the only barrier keeping their chests from touching one another.
"Why are you so angry at me, Granger?"

"I'm not."

"You are," he shot his eyes to her pulse point in her throat. "You're angry at me. Your pulse
just jolted. Didn't I tell you not to lie to me?"

The back of her head thumped against the bark. "You left."

The Death Eater met her eyes, a confused, questioning look in his own. But he didn't say
anything, silently wanting her to elaborate further.

"I woke up, and you were gone. You didn't even say goodbye."

"You're pissed at me because I left before you woke?" He chuckled, and she felt the vibration
of it through his robes to her palm. "I wasn't aware that I had to stay until those pretty eyes
opened again."

"I know," she took a deep breath, and she caught his expensive cologne wafting off him
straight into her nostrils. Parchment, spice, and something else she was missing. "I—I just...it
was nice that...someone else was taking care of me. It's normally me that looks after everyone
else."

"You want to be looked after, Granger?" He leaned in closer, dipping his head towards her
ear.

"Possibly."

"Yes or no." He whispered into her ear, his hand beside her head ghosting down her arm, just
as he had done at the wedding. She shivered, and he closed his fingers around her elbow,
dancing them up until his hand closed around hers flat against his chest. "Tell me the truth."

"Yes...I—I do." She closed her eyes, as she felt his heart jump beneath her palm.

"Then why do you think that I'm here? Hm?"

"Because Malfoy owes a debt, and he's too afraid or disgusted to do it himself." His hand
tightened around hers. "I have a feeling on who you could be. You said that you're his
friend."

"Who?" He taunted a feral growl, rumbling through him. "Who do you think I am?"
Hermione's chest started heaving, swallowing thickly as though she had thick tar lodged in
her throat. "Zabini." She heard his jaw grind behind his mask. "Perhaps Nott."

"Theo Nott?"

"Mm."

"Funny," his hand began shaking around hers in what she could presume was rage. "You
think your big hero is Theodore fucking Nott?"

"Aren't you?" Her brows furrowed as he moved his head back to lock eyes with hers. Oh
sweet lord, she almost melted when his gaze met hers.

Black, furious, and possessive. He didn't like that she thought he was Nott.

Not one little bit.

He hated it.

"No. I'm not." He growled like an animal, shoving her hand off his chest, and she could've
sworn she saw a flash of red shoot through his eyes in the colour of blood. "And I'm not
fucking Blaise Zabini either."

"Then who are you?"

"I'm not telling you anything. Not until the time is right." He was sneering again; it was so
easy to tell. His eyes gave away everything he was doing under that mask. "Malfoy wants to
help you. Is that so hard for you to believe?"

"Does he still hate me?" She tried grabbing onto his arm as he began to pull away, but he
stepped away from her reach. "Does he still see me as nothing but a filthy mudblood?
Because no matter what I've done, that's all he'll see me as. Right? A way for you to keep me
quiet so that his ego isn't hurt."

The Death Eater scrubbed two hands over his masked face, muttering things she couldn't
fully understand. But she could tell he was struggling. Struggling to say whatever it was on
his mind.

His shoulders were shaking violently as he dropped his hands at his sides and balled them
into tight, furious fists. "I have to go." He ground out harshly. "Stay out of trouble. I'll be
back in a few weeks. Food will come to you when need be. I have a mission to go on."

Hermione went to stop him, as she caught the troubled tone in the sound of his disguised
voice, but he vanished in a cloud of black smoke just as her hand went to grab his arm. The
leaves fluttered down, back to the ground in the empty space he once stood in.

Her stomach sank as she realised she wouldn't see him for a while. Weeks. He had said a few
weeks, and she couldn't help but feel that she had hurt him in some way.
And now she wouldn't know which part had hurt him the most. The fact that she thought that
he was Nott or Zabini. Or because of what she had just said about Malfoy.

She was going to have to wait a few weeks and try to stay vigilant whilst doing what she
came here to do in the first place.

Hermione headed back to her tent, guilt coiling in her stomach at what she could've said to
upset him so much. As she put her hand into her pocket, she found the locket that he had put
back at some point. She was still going to wear it, whether he liked it or not.

All three of them were.

Three days later, a basket of food appeared on the table as promised by him, but that's not all
that came with it.

Buried at the bottom, wrapped in an emerald ribbon, was a book on how to destroy dark
magical properties.

A first edition, filled with facts on different dark magical rituals, dangerous and lethal spells
that could split someone's soul into several pieces, and other damages they could cause if
used. He'd sent her a book to help her speed up the process.

She researched it to her heart's content when the boys were asleep for the next two and a half
weeks as they moved from place to place whilst she missed her stranger terribly.

Then one night as she sat by the fire, reading through the last pages, something caught her
eye. Something she had completely forgotten about was what Harry had said during their
second year and how he had managed to destroy the diary. The basilisk fang.

Hermione triple-checked it over, making sure she had read it correctly.

"The sword of Gryffindor," she whispered into the night. "Of course, the sword or a fang
from the basilisk can destroy Horcruxes." She smiled as she read the chapter.

The creator or dark wizard always has a secret weapon to destroy their creations. Some, in
past wizarding history, have been known to use something that brings great comfort to them.

A creature or an object. Something that will contain venom. And they use these because they
know that their enemies wouldn't dare to steal them to destroy their precious possessions. You
will only be allowed it once; even if it's dead, the venom remains on the beast's bones for
centuries.

The venom will instantly kill the dark magic you seek to destroy and slowly kill the intended
user of the dark wizard.

"Harry!" She got up and ran inside the tent, hiding the book behind her back where she found
him concentrating on the snitch. "I know how to destroy the locket."

Harry immediately sat up, eager and anticipation written across his face.
"The sword of Gryffindor is the thing we need to destroy the Horcruxes."

~♡~

Draco-

Draco walked back into his room, exhausted, sweaty, and drained from his weeks of helping
the Death Eaters search for something that Voldemort wouldn't dare speak of. Bellatrix knew
what it was, but she was so loyal to him she wouldn't say a single word on the matter.

Typical.

That's where he had been heading, as he sensed the danger Granger was about to put herself
in. About to step onto a fucking fox trap in the middle of nowhere and snapped straight there
to stop her from losing an ankle. But honestly, he presumed that the snatchers were there,
given her heart bashing against his finger, and then it had jumped for a split second as though
she was in trouble.

Draco collapsed back onto his bed, on his back, keeping his arms at his sides, ticked off just
like he had been since he'd last seen her.

Did she think he was Theo or Blaise?

Draco didn't like that.

He loved those two; he really did. But they were both scared of their own shadows. There
was no way he'd send them both undercover to keep an eye on her; this was his job to do.

And his alone.

Granger was his.

That's all there was to it. Not Theo's or Blaise's or anyone else's that she was trying to work
out who he was; she was Draco's.

Draco took a deep breath, trying to keep his blood pressure low. Ever since he had left her
that day, he'd been angrier, frustrated, and couldn't seem to keep his body temperature down.
He wasn't sick; he knew that; he was just constantly hot, slick in sweat, and agitated ever
since. Then once he had blown up something with his wand, he sensed a sweet sense of
relief, and his temperature would go down by itself.

But he was still agitated about something.

Granger.

He was fucking angry at her. But why? She hadn't done anything wrong.
Draco startled as Crookshanks suddenly jumped onto his chest. "Merlin—oh, it's you." He
grumbled, ripping his mask off of his face. "I forgot about you." He scowled at it.

Crookshanks purred, standing proudly on his chest, padding his paws a few times against
him.

"No, she's not home yet." He sighed tiredly. "It's going to take a while, beast."

Crookshanks huffed at him, reaching his paw out to tap his chin gently as if he could sense
that he was upset.

"Did you stay hidden?" He arched his brow, grimacing as he stroked one cautious finger
down his soft spine. He still wasn't keen on this thing, as gentle as it had been since they had
met at Granger's home; he still didn't trust the furball.

He slept with one eye open. One could never be careful with a cat that had vicious claws.

Crookshanks blinked once at him in response. Draco had soon come to realise that the
creature could understand every single word that he would say to it and answer yes in one
blink and two for no.

"Good boy." Draco slipped one arm beneath his head; as he stroked his back, his muscles
untensed. His body temperature is rapidly going down. "Mother would freak if she found you
here."

Crookshanks purred louder, adjusting himself to lie down on Draco's chest, nuzzling his head
against his chin in a sweet motion.

Draco's lips twitched into a very small smile as his eyes closed and grew heavy.

Then as sleep took him, too exhausted to change and get her cat off him, he dreamed of that
night Granger had fallen asleep on him.

He'd been reading with her, subconsciously finding himself closer to her, shoulder to shoulder
in complete silence. He'd caught her breathing growing heavy, her eyes fluttering. Even the
book in her hands had begun to drop as her head rested against his shoulder. He'd gone still
for a moment, holding his breath at her intimate touch in her sleep.

Then he'd snaked his arm around her and pulled her closer with his chin on the top of her
head, staring off into space for what seemed like hours, humming the same lullaby she had
hummed to him in the hospital. Tracing patterns into her arm to keep her warm.

Draco hadn't realised that he had been there holding her in her sleep until the sunrise began to
stream through the trees that morning.

He'd stayed all night without meaning to; he didn't want to leave her. To be honest, he was
rather enjoying something he had been dreaming about. Her asleep on him, curled in at his
side, her arm secure across his stomach, needing to be certain that he was still there.
 Then as the sun had risen higher, he'd given in and carefully stood, lifting her up into his
arms, taken the book with them, and snuck into her tent, making sure Potter and Weasley
weren't awake to catch him. He'd placed her in bed on her side, taken her shoes off, and
draped the blanket over her to warm her up further. Dog-eared her book to keep it in place on
where they had last gotten up to.

Granger had moaned softly in her sleep, her brows pinching together in disappointment, and
stretched her arm out, looking for him.

He would've ignored it and gone straight then had she not said something he'd never
expected.

"Draco." She'd muttered in a soft, breathless whisper.

Draco had gone still. Deathly still. Still on his knees by her side, watching her face with his
eyes wide behind his mask, hoping she would say it again.

She didn't.

The sound of his name on her tongue sounded sweet, like a pull of something that made him
lean in closer to her. His hand clasped around the bottom of his mask to lift it as his eyes had
remained stuck to her soft, pink lips waiting for him. Teasing him for him to touch her.

He'd started to lift it up to reveal his lips. His breathing was shallow as he hovered over her
face, her sleepy breath brushing against his lips. His eyes had begun to close, his lips just
ghosting hers, ready to taste her.

And then that moment had ended when he had heard some rustling of someone moving in the
next room. He'd slammed his mask back down, backed off, and then ran out of the tent before
Potter or Weasley would catch him there and apparated straight back to his manor, taking a
cold shower. Cursing himself the entire time with his forehead pressed to the tiles at how
close he had been to kissing Hermione Granger in her sleep.

So fucking close.

And it scared him that he wanted to kiss her so desperately more than he'd ever wanted to
kiss anyone before in his entire life. It's all that had been on his mind since that night, and
now this raging jealousy that she thought he was Theo or Blaise.

He'd kiss her and show her soon that he wasn't who she thought he was. That who he was
was the man that had changed; no matter what, she still thought he thought of her.

Chapter End Notes

I'm very sorry if this chapter wasn't all that great, I feel it was crappy but I'll let you
decide that.
Hope you enjoyed never the less! 🥰
Things will be moving after this one 🤭🤭🤭
 Chapter 6
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Malfoy Manor 5th September 1997-

It was awkward.

That's the only word Narcissa could use to describe it.

Every meal, every pass in the hallways, every accidental step into each other's paths she had
witnessed them share was just plain awkward. The tension constantly thicker, she found
herself at a loss on what to do or how to mend their broken family.

Draco was still ignoring his father. Refusing to make eye contact. Staying away from him as
though he were the poison bead of venomous blood in this family.

Bellatrix sat at the end of the table, talking firmly to Draco about his duelling training. Whilst
Narcissa and Lucius sat at the opposite end, trying their hardest not to interfere.

"Now remember, Draco," Bellatrix spoke her words, hissing around her tongue. "If you find
yourself face to face with your enemy. What's the curse that we enforce to capture them?"

Narcissa caught her son's jaw set in silent agitation across from her left. Her slim fingers
were closed around her husband's under the table, trying to stay calm.

"Draco?" Bellatrix warned as he ignored her, stabbing at his dinner.

His shoulders rose and fell in a deep breath as he made eye contact with his psychotic aunt.
"The binding jinx." He feigned a fake smile.

Bellatrix nodded, smirking cruelly through her rotten teeth. "What does it do? Do you
remember?"

"Binds our enemy to stop them from fleeing. A rope extends from our wands. Wraps around
them tight and stabilises their wandless magic and ability to apparate away. If they struggle,
we use the cruciatus curse on them until their spines break."

"Very good," she praised him glancing at her younger sister in pride and victory. "You see,
Cissy? I told you he knows every single detail."

"Yes, by turning my son into you," Narcissa kept her back straight. "How very ingenious of
you. Truly." She raised her wine goblet to her sister in a sarcastic toast, her fingers shaking
around Lucius's wrist.

"Mother--"
"It's all right, Draco sweetheart," Bellatrix interrupted, patting him on the wrist, keeping her
searing glare locked onto the Lady of the Manor. "Your mother's just doing what she does
best."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed as she gracefully placed her fork down on the table. "And what is
that, dear sister of mine?"

"Sticking your nose in when it's not wanted," she sneered. "He's got the mark. What did you
expect from him? That he'd just do his task and that would be it?" She chortled indifferently.
"Not the case, Cissy. He's far from finished in this war."

"He's still my son!"

"He's not your son anymore!" Her voice rose higher, almost a high-pitched screech. "The
moment that mark was seared into him, he grew up. You knew that, and so did he."

Draco's hands balled into tight fists on either side of his plate, trying to stay composed. He
didn't want to hear this.

For the hundredth time.

"Mark or not, he is still my son!" Narcissa stood from her chair, pushing it back forcefully.
"And as a mother's duty, it is my job to protect him from you poisoning his mind."

"Darling, calm down." Lucius enclosed his fingers around her wrist to try and get her to sit,
but she refused to move.

"Poisoning his mind is by letting him believe that we Blacks and Malfoys are only good
enough to produce heirs. We were born for this; Regulus took it. Andromeda refused and
chose a wretched mudblood! Sirius turned his back on us too. You," she pointed her bony
finger at her. "Got away with it out of sheer dumb luck. If Mother could see you now, she'd
be turning in her grave. You coddle him too much; it's about time he grew up."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut. His leg bounced up and down
under the table, hoping this would end soon.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"Mother him?" Narcissa repeated, baring her teeth. "I am his mother! Mothers protect their
children from the dangers of the world!"

"Your use of parenting provides him a substantial conduct of love where he doesn't have the
ability to grow on his own! Since he's taken the mark, he's shown that he is a Malfoy and a
Black! Proud and fearless," Bellatrix straightened her back, raising her chin in defiance. "You
just can't handle the fact that he's leaving you behind to do what he was born to do!"

"Excuse me," Draco interjected, standing calmly with the poise he was brought up to do and
left, tugging at his tie, turning swiftly on his heel without a backward glance at anyone.
"Draco," Narcissa called after him, but he didn't look back. He carried on walking, out of the
door away from them.

Just as he always did whenever this conversation erupted.

Narcissa settled her furious gaze on her black, curly-haired, deranged sister. "He's just a boy.
Can't you see that?" She clenched through her teeth, her eyes stinging with tears.

"Little boys grow up, Cissy." Bellatrix smiled wryly. "You have to let him go sooner or later.
He's accepted his future; why can't you?"

Narcissa looked at her husband, her jaw trembling so violently it might shatter. Lucius
refused to meet her eyes, his hand slipping from her wrist to clamp around his crystal tumbler
instead in guilt.

"If you were a mother, you'd understand," Narcissa's voice wavered, but she kept her back
straight as she locked her gaze back onto her sisters. "Stop treating him like a soldier. He's
your nephew."

"Whether you like it or not, he is a soldier. A Death Eater soldier. You've had plenty of
opportunities to get him out of this, and you still stayed." She took a long sip of her wine,
glowering at her over the rim. "This is really all on you. If anything, you were the one that
put that mark on his forearm. No one else, Cissy. The vow has been fulfilled. He's seventeen
years old. Time to let him go." She toasted her glass to her, winking slowly and deliberately.
"Mummy would be proud of Draco. Perhaps you should take a leaf out of her book and do
the same."

Draco stormed into his room, slammed the door shut, and pressed his back up to it, placing
his hands over his face and breathing heavily. He dragged his hands down his face, screwing
his eyes shut tight to the point he saw stars burst behind his eyelids.

It was always the same.

His mother wanted nothing but the best for him. To void this life and be happy, whilst his
aunt trained him all day until his muscles were sore, and if he didn't do it, she'd put him under
the cruciatist curse until he had learnt his lesson.

Same shit, different day.

On a constant loophole repeat.

Now he knew how to end this; he would get it done and let this war end. To stop this war
between his aunt and mother. To stop this wedge from driving them apart further.

But he knew where he was ending up once this was all over.

Alone, cold, and rotting in a cell in Azkaban.

But he didn't want that now. He wanted to live the life that his betraying thoughts had shown
him. Yes, he didn't love her, but the imagination kept playing on a constant loop that it looked
so surreal. So perfect, happy, and beautiful.

He wanted children. He wanted a wife. Someone to take care of, someone to love and for
someone to love him in return besides his own mother.

He wanted a future with someone far away in the middle of nowhere. Alone, carefree, sitting
on a porch somewhere in the summer sun, listening to the playful laughter of his children
playing in the back garden. His wife kissed his cheek when he came home from a long day at
work as an Auror. Or perhaps a potion master or brewer.

He wanted his wife with golden brown curls. Chocolate, honeycomb eyes. Warm, loving
smile, freckles. Someone who loved to read picked fights with him for fun. Voice as angelic
as--

He wanted...

Fuck!

"I want, Granger." He whispered, smacking the back of his head against the back of his door.
"Fuck! What's happening to me?" He chastised himself.

It wasn't supposed to end this way. Yes, she was his, but he didn't want her in that way. Just
until he'd repay the favour and get her when the time was right.

"I could've answered that back at the Yule Ball."

Draco's eyes flew open, snapping his head to the right, and he found fucking Theo leaning up
against his bar. Smug as a horse, ankles crossed, arms folded across his chest.

"Wh--h--how?" Draco stammered, pressing his hand to the back of his door and feeling the
wards still up around his room. "What are you fucking doing here? You're supposed to be
back at school!"

Theo dug around in his trouser pockets and pulled out Draco's wand, waving it between two
fingers. "I let myself in."

Draco clenched his jaw tight until his teeth were grinding. "What are you doing here?"

"Could ask you the same question," Theo kicked off from the bar and bent down,
disappearing behind his chaise. "I came here for answers. And this," he stood back up, and
Draco paled as Theo held Crookshanks in his arms. "I believe it needs answering first. What
are you doing with Granger's cat?"

"None of your business." He sneered. "The beast followed me. Won't leave me alone."

"Give over," Theo scoffed, dropping Crookshanks to the chaise as he hissed at him. "Tell me
what's really going on."

"Out, Theo," Draco sighed, heading straight for his bathroom. "I'm not doing anything
wrong."
"Hm, really?"

Draco nodded, slipping off his suit jacket and tossing it onto his bed, fiddling with his
cufflinks as he headed towards his bathroom.

"So you're not secretly going by Granger's house and repairing it for her either?"

Draco stopped mid-step, his eye twitching as he slowly stepped towards his best friend. "How
did you--"

"How did I know?" Theo snorted, jumping on his bed, lying on his side with his palm rested
on the side of his face. "I've been watching you for weeks disappearing by yourself. Staring
at yourself in the bloody mirror. I snuck by here two days ago and found the kneazle. Yes,
he's evil," he scowled at it for a split second. "I mean, I knew you were up to something, and
I knew it had something to do with your saviour." He shrugged.

"You've been following me?" Draco accused, anger crawling under his skin.

"Someone had to," Theo shrugged again, shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling out a
sugar quill and began sucking on it. "You're so secretive these days. Even your mother has
noticed your odd behaviour."

"You're delusional." Draco scoffed, rolling his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

Theo considered him for a moment as he sucked, hollowing his cheeks on the sugar quill.
"I'm sorry, what did I just hear just now?" He cupped his hand to his ear and dramatically
sighed. "I want Granger."

"You're hearing things," he mumbled. "That's not what I said."

"Pah!" Theo barked a sarcastic laugh. "I'm not delusional. You've been obsessed with the
witch ever since you saw her in that periwinkle dress of hers. Oh no—wait—since she
lumped you one." He scoffed incredulously. "Finally you fucking admit it. You've been
driving me and Blaise nuts denying it for all this time. Epso facto, I heard you, and you can't
worm your way out of it!"

Draco resisted the urge to strangle him. "All right, cards on the table. What exactly do you
know?"

Theo licked the sugar off his lips, smirking at him in victory. "The way I see it is. You're
doing something for Granger. You've just realised that you feel something for her. Watching
her through that damn bloody mirror, taking care of her kneazle, which I think is bonkers."
He snorted. "You're fixing her house. And let me guess, you're sneaking off to see her
wherever she is. Am I wrong?"

Draco growled lowly as he cleared his throat forcefully and glared at the floorboards beneath
his shoes, hoping the damn things would set him ablaze.

"So I'm right?"

"Yes," he said quietly, sighing in defeat. "Yes, you're correct about everything. Are you
happy?"

"Happy?!" Theo shot up onto his knees. "I'm fucking ecstatic! Does she know what you're
doing?"

Draco shook his head. "She doesn't know about Crookshanks or her home. Just that I'm
helping her, that's all, and she likes it."

Theo placed his hand on his chest. "Oh, two star-crossed lovers. Man, I'm annoyed I didn't
get to see her face when she realised it's really you and that you want to help—

"She doesn't."

"What?"

"Granger has no idea who I am. All right?" He said tiredly, sitting himself down on the
window love seat, rubbing his palms together and scowling furiously.

Theo's brows pinched together in confusion. "She lost her memor--"

"No," Draco huffed a breath, looking at Theo through hooded lids. "No, she knows who I,
Draco Malfoy, am. She...just doesn't know it's me going to see her when it's needed. I haven't
shown my face yet, and I'm not going to."

Theo's stomach sank as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "You've been wearing
your Death Eater mask around her, haven't you?" Draco nodded. "Why? Why are you hiding
from her?"

"Because she hates me. She wouldn't want me."

"She doesn't hate you--"

"She does," he interrupted Theo harshly. "She regrets helping me, Theo. You can see it in her
eyes; she hates what she's done. And she did it for me, and I never asked her to. I don't want
her to know; I don't intend for her to know who I am." He paused, inhaling shakily. "Not yet
anyway."

"So...," Theo searched his face, swiping a thumb over his lip to get the stickiness off. "When
are you going to tell her?"

Draco stared at him for several seconds without blinking or saying anything. "Look, I've got
to go and make sure she's all right. I've not seen her for a couple of weeks. Keep your mouth
shut from everyone. Including my parents. No one was supposed to know." He stood up and
made to head back into his bathroom.

"Draco?" Theo called him back, and he stopped halfway into the bathroom, staring at Theo
out of the corner of his eyes. "You're going to tell her the truth that it's you? Yes? Don't you
owe her that after everything she's done for you?"
"What do you think I'm doing now? Go back to school, Theo. This has nothing to do with
you."

"That's not what I meant," he shook his head, causing his moppy curls to bounce. "You need
to tell her it's you. She'll trust you more if she knows it's you and doesn't think it's someone
else." He flinched as Draco began to glare at him so hard as though he had done something
wrong. "Stop looking at me like that. Tell her, Draco. Please tell her."

"I will," he sighed heavily, and Theo began to smile. "When the war is over and I'm being
shipped off to Azkaban, then she will know it's been me the entire time. Go back to school.
I've got things to do." He walked inside and closed the door before Theo could say another
word.

Theo slumped back onto his bed, groaning into his hands. Typical Draco. Too scared to show
the witch that he had had a secret crush on for years and think no one had noticed to even
show her who he really is.

Hiding his feelings to protect himself.

Just as he always had.

~♡~

Hermione 19th September-

"All right, I'm going to turn in." Harry stood up from the fireplace, stretching his back and
yawning tiredly. "It's my turn tomorrow to do night watch. You're doing too much already."

Hermione rolled her eyes, hardly able to suppress her smile. "I'm fine. Okay?"

Harry nudged her on the arm playfully, scuffing his shoes against the dusty mud. "I know.
Happy birthday, Hermione." He twitched his lips into a small smile, feeling at fault that she
was having to spend her 18th this way.

On the run.

For him.

"Thank you, Harry. And I promise we'll work out how to find the sword. I swear."

"One day at a time. Ron's almost healed, and then we can apparate again. Don't worry, it'll
come when we need it. Goodnight." He kissed her on the cheek in a brotherly gesture, then
disappeared into the tent.

Hermione sighed to herself as she turned back to the book Dumbledore had left to her. There
it was, the symbol again, sitting there without an answer as to what it was whatsoever.
She didn't know what it was, though she was sure she had seen it before somewhere. Maybe
Harry would know?

Or even her death eater stranger? Perhaps he had seen it somewhere before and would know
the answer himself.

Almost three weeks since she had last seen him. And honestly, she was starting to withdraw
from seeing him like a drug addict going cold turkey from their addictions.

When he wasn't around taking care of her, it was her taking care of Harry and Ron just as
always. Honestly, she didn't mind doing that for them; it was just nice to take a break for a
while and have someone else be the one to take care of her for her.

The only other ones that did were her parents.

And now they couldn't do it anymore either.

They were currently camping under an abandoned bridge to the west of Britain, hidden away
from anyone that might drop by. And Hermione, despite it being her birthday, felt more
lonely than ever, and she didn't expect him to show up either. She didn't know when she was
going to see him again, if he was still alive.

Crap.

What if he was dead and she wouldn't know?

What if he was too injured to come back?

What if someone had figured out he was secretly coming to her aid?

She wouldn't know, and no one would tell her about it. She'd carry on, still guilty for
upsetting him and never got the chance to apologise for whatever it was she had upset him
with in the first place.

Hermione's heart clenched at the thought of never getting to know who he was. What he
looked like. What his true voice sounded like, the colour of his hair, the shape of his face, the
colour of his skin, his hands. Nothing, and it scared her that he probably wasn't coming back.

It's been four days since the last batch of food arrived. If the next one didn't appear in the next
three days, then that would be the only way that she knew he was dead.

"Still reading that book?"

Hermione jumped at the deep, silky voice breaking her thoughts and looked up at her left,
and there he was. Alive, healthy—at least she presumed—standing there towering over her.
The full moon glowed over him in the shape of a halo. Creating a dark shadow over his mask
that she could barely see from his hood hanging over his face.

Despite not seeing his face or the rest of him, he looked beautiful, powerful, and dangerous.
"Yes," she said in relief. Her spiralling thoughts immediately dying out. "I've been too caught
up in the other one that you sent."

"Hm, I figured." He said, keeping his hand hidden behind his back.

Hermione's brows furrowed. His voice seemed different, less muffled and clearer, though he
still sounded like a robot to her own ears, but it was definitely different. "Thank you, by the
way. I really appreciate it."

He nodded once. "Did you find what you need?" He asked.

Hermione smiled up at him, quickly checking towards the tent to make sure that the boys
weren't coming out. "Basilisk venom is the weapon to destroy it. Harry used the fang in the
Chamber of Secrets to stab the diary."

"So, you need another one?" He cocked his head to the side, keeping his arm behind his
back.

"Not quite, I--" she studied him from head to toe. "Do you want to sit?" She shuffled over to
give him some room.

"Not yet." He said, more in a whisper. "Carry on."

Hermione took a deep breath, thumbing the edges of her book as she spoke. "Harry also
killed the basilisk with the sword of Gryffindor. We worked out the blade is impregnated with
basilisk venom. Which means--"

"It can destroy the Horcruxes. I think I've caught up."

Hermione was caught off guard by the way he was speaking. Gentler, less guarded, and open.
"Is everything okay? You don't seem yourself."

Not that she knew his true personality, but never mind.

He hesitated for a moment, his head lifting to look at the tent behind her, and then he looked
back down at her, extending his arm at his side to her, holding his hand out. "Come with me."
He said, and she could've sworn she heard a smile in his voice.

Hermione placed her book down on the stones by the small riverbank and covered it with her
blanket, taking his hand and allowing him to help her up, his fingers enclosing around hers in
a tight but gentle grip. He led her out, past the wards, keeping his hand tight around hers as
he guided her down towards the clearing in the forest.

Not too far from the tent, but in the centre of where they were.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked, having to jog a bit to keep up with him, and he
slowed down to match her speed.

"There's something that I want to show you."

Her curiosity peaked higher as he guided her through the still green trees, shrubs, and bushes
getting ready for autumn to make its appearance before they died. He opened his fingers to
her, inviting her closer, and she bit back a smile, lacing them together, a blush running across
her cheeks as he closed their hands together.

Hermione's heart was racing as he stopped them in the meadowed clearing and disappeared
behind her, letting her hand go, and then it all went dark as his hands closed around her eyes.

She gasped softly, grabbing at his wrists as she felt his chest press up against her back. "What
are you doing?" She softly laughed, her stomach churning in nerves.

Hermione felt his lips close to her ear. No mask, just his lips. His hot breath tickled her neck
as he spoke huskily.

"Giving you the birthday that you deserve."

Her stomach swooped as he turned her to a ninety-degree angle and removed his hands from
her face, replacing them on her shoulders. "Open your eyes, sweet Granger."

Hermione's eyes opened upon his command, and they rounded as soon as she saw what he
was showing her. Her lips parted in awe as thousands of autumn fairies danced in the air
around them. They fluttered their silver wings and dipped their tiny feet in the position of
ballet dancers. Golden orange dust lingered in the air behind them like smoke from a plane as
they danced around the clearing.

"Wow," she breathed lightly at what she was seeing, following them with her eyes.

They danced over the top of them, blowing her kisses in dust heart shapes dropping on the tip
of her nose.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He rested his chin on her shoulder, his hands closing around her ribs, and
teased on the way down to her small waist.

"Mm, much," she rested the back of her head against his shoulder. Her stomach muscles
twitched at his touch, flaring at her skin against her ticklish nerves he kept catching. "Thank
you."

One hand left her waist to sweep away her hair from one shoulder to the other, and her breath
caught when his cold, soft lips pressed against her neck. She flinched away out of reaction,
and the hand on her hip tightened, holding her steady.

She yelped as he pinched at her hip bone harder than he'd ever grabbed her before.

"Sh," he purred into her ear. "Let me take care of you. Just as you wanted." He whispered in
suggestion.

Hermione relaxed her muscles, her eyes fluttering, and she nodded and took a deep breath in
through her nose. The Death Eater pressed his lips back to her neck, sucking and nipping,
smoothing his hot tongue over the bruises he had created down the hollow of her throat.
Hermione moaned at the back of her throat, her breaths deep and shallow as his grip on her
hip became painful. Really painful, in fact, that she couldn't focus on what he was doing to
her neck any longer.

"Wait," she grabbed at his hand as his hand started to shake against her hip. His fingers
pressing in too hard, she could feel the bruises beginning to form. "Stop. S-stop, you're
hurting me." She winced as he bit her too hard, drawing blood. "Stop! Please stop!"

"Shhh," he whispered, tugging at her skin between his teeth. "Just relax."

"Ow," her chest began to heave, tears stinging at her eyes as her skin grew hot red from his
teeth almost puncturing her flesh. "Stop, I don't want to do this!" She wriggled in his arms,
and he quickly turned her, forcing her to walk forward as he shoved her up against the tree
face-first. "No! Stop! Y—you said you didn't want to hurt me!" She cried, trying to break free
from his strong hold.

The fairies were suddenly gone; the wind howled around them, cold as ice, hurting her
cheeks.

The Death Eater's hand left her hip, snatching her wrist and twisting it backwards, making
her cry out in pain as he forced her arm between her own shoulder blades.

"Please! Stop!" Hermione cried, her arm bent backward in the wrong position. It hurt, her
bones twisting in the wrong way.

"Stupid girl," he cruelly bragged into her ear. "Did you really think that I was here to help
you?"

Hermione's stomach felt as though a shard of ice had been struck through her. "Y--you said--
"

"I lied, Granger." He hissed into her ear, and she flinched away. "I don't care for you. I'm not
here to help you." He paused as she heard a sharp blade scrape against something. "I'm here
to kill you." Hermione began to panic, kicking at his legs to get free, all sensitivity for him
leaving her as he pressed a dagger to her throat.

"HARRY!" She screamed through her frightened tears, hoping that he would hear her. "RON,
HELP ME!"

The Death Eater slapped his hand to her mouth, pressing the sharp edge of his dagger into her
flesh, nicking her throat. She screamed muffled protests into his palm as he pushed her into
the tree, trapping her there.

Hermione cried, squeezing her eyes shut as he twisted her arm around harder, breaking it
with one clean, sharp snap. She screamed in agony as she felt her bone puncture through her
skin, her cheeks drenched in tears, the pain of her arm breaking in half from his harsh grip
radiating all over her, and the corners of her vision began to darken.
"Nighty, night. Mudblood." He taunted viciously through his teeth, sounding inhuman as he
went to slice her throat.

"GRANGER!"

Hermione woke up screaming, a pair of hands on her face, and she smacked them off,
shuffling backwards to get away from a hooded black figure crouched down in front of her.

"Granger, Granger. Sh, sh. It's okay!" He started following her, and that's when she caught the
skull mask right in front of her.

On his face.

"Get away from me!" Her back collided with a tree, her skin slick in sweat. "Don't come near
me!" Hermione quickly grabbed her wand and aimed it at him, her vision blurring through
her betrayed tears.

He stopped immediately, raising his hands in defence. "Granger, calm down--"

"Get away from me!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, her chest heaving violently. "Don't
touch me!"

"I'm not. See," he gestured to his hands still at his sides, nowhere near her, his voice shaking.
"Just calm down."

Hermione squinted as her vision slowly swam back into place. There he was five feet away
from her on his knees, hands raised at his sides, no weapon in his hands. She quickly looked
around; they were still in the wards, the tent right there a few feet away from her.

Where were Harry and Ron? Couldn't they hear her?

She caught him shifting out of the corner of her eyes, and she immediately warned him off,
aiming her wand at his chest, ready to fire. "Stay away from me. One more move and I will
kill you." She gritted through her teeth, her heart racing painfully against her ribs.

Hermione caught his eyes round in hurt. Wide-eyed in shock at her threat. "Granger, I'm not
going to hurt you. I promise." He placed one hand on his chest to show that he was sincere.

"Empty your pockets."

"What?"

"Empty your pockets!" Her voice rose higher. "I'm not messing around."

He did as she asked, being quick about it, and emptied them all inside out. All that he showed
her was the same bent wand and a black bird hopping on the floor between them chirping.

No dagger.

Nothing else.
"There goes the surprise." He sighed, shaking his head, his voice tame. Hermione's brows
furrowed, standing her ground as she kept her eyes locked on him to watch his movements.
The Death Eater met her eyes again, wounded and vulnerable. "You just had a bad dream. I
would never, ever hurt you. I swear."

Hermione didn't say anything as her lip trembled violently, and the bird she could only
presume was a baby raven hopped up onto the toe of her trainer and made its way up her leg,
eyeing her lovingly.

Now she remembered as the dream faded he wasn't cruel. Two weeks ago he had come back
from his mission. Reading with her on her night watch every two nights.

Chatting, they'd already spoken about the sword, asking her about the research, and he agreed
to help find it for her. He wanted Voldemort dead just as much as they did. He wasn't cruel;
he was kind in a weird, bossy, I make the rules type of way, but he was generous. He still
sent them food once a week and checked her wards for her.

Why did she dream of him trying to kill her? For two weeks he'd done nothing but prove that
he wasn't here to cause her harm since he returned from his mission after their last interaction
two weeks before the end of August.

She had apologised for thinking she had upset him, and he had told her to drop it, that she
hadn't. Moved on, he showed up when needed; they talked or read; that was it.

But something had changed between them, and she knew it, but her dream still terrified and
confused her.

The Death Eater stood to his full height, taking several steps back to put some space between
them. "This is Pan. He's a protective daemon that can transform into any living creature to
watch your back when I can't get to you straight away. He's made from my blood to keep you
company. It's something that I've been working on for a long time for you."

Hermione swallowed thickly, her wand slowly lowering as Pan hopped onto the end of it,
eyeing her as he chirped.

"I only came here to give him to you as a birthday present; now he's fully grown and ready to
change."

Hermione met his gaze, and her heart seized at him focusing on the ground instead of her.
She wanted to speak, but her throat was so tight from her nightmare that nothing was coming
out.

The Death Eater's shoulders slumped as though he had lost the battle. He sounded truly hurt,
broken as he said, "Happy birthday, Granger. I'm sorry." He turned, and she quickly stopped
him just as he went to apparate away.

"Wait! Please stay!" Her voice came out weaker than usual. "I'm sorry. I—I just..." She
watched his body language as he tensed up. "I had a nightmare....it felt so real." She broke off
on a choked sob, her wand slipping between her fingers, thudding against the ground, and
held her palm out to the baby raven, allowing him to hop onto her hand.

"About me?"

Hermione couldn't bear to look at him. "Yes."

"Can...can I come sit next to you? Is that okay? I won't touch you, I promise."

Hermione only nodded and watched from the corner of her eyes as his combat boots
crunched against the leaves slowly and cautiously as though she were a wounded animal. She
flinched out of reaction as he sunk down next to her, keeping at a reasonable distance to
allow her to calm down.

Pan flapped his small wings and perched himself on her shoulder, pecking at her cheek softly.
She laughed on a quiet sob as he tickled her skin.

The silence was heavy around them as she caught her stranger bending his knees up to his
chest, wrapping his arms around his legs, his eyes locked on the ground beneath him.

Pan, once he relaxed, fell asleep on her shoulder, accepting her already, and she stroked his
beak gently.

She had her own companion. Safety companion to keep her safe when she needed it most
when he couldn't get to her in time. Hermione had a funny feeling there would be times if she
were in danger that he wouldn't get here as fast as he would hope to; going on missions and
raids sometimes required travelling far.

Too far to apparate straight to her side. She adored Pan already; she wondered what else he
could turn into.

But she could feel him slipping away because of her nightmare.

"I'm really sorry." He said after a while. His tone was still deep but regretful all at once.
"Whatever happened in that dream, I'm not like that. I'm not here to hurt you. I thought we
moved past that." She looked at the side of his masked face and caught him tracing strange
runes into the mud. "I may look like a Death Eater, but I walk like one. Talk like one, but I'm
not a bad man. I'm here to help; I--he owes it to you. I kept my word to keep you alive, and I
intend to see it through until this is over."

"I know."

He met her eyes at that, and she could tell he was knitting his brows together by the
movement of his mask.

"I know. And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to threaten to kill you. I know you would never hurt
me."

He huffed a small laugh, shaking his head slightly. "I'd let you." He joked tightly. "You've
already dragged me to the gallows of your heart. I'd let you finish me off just to see your face
one last time. Death would be worth it if it were you to pull the trigger."

Hermione's brows furrowed as he turned his face away from her, fixating back on the runes
once again. She wished she could see his face, just to be able to read what he meant by that.
His eyes and voice weren't enough.

She wanted to know him.

Inside and out.

Hermione braved it and shuffled closer to him, being careful with Pan asleep on her
shoulder.

She startled him as she got closer, taking his cold silver face between her hands to guide his
attention to meet hers.

"What are you doing?" He inhaled sharply.

Hermione kept her eyes on the wide, nervous silver between the holes and hooked her fingers
around the bottom of his mask.

His long fingers immediately closed around her wrists, stopping her from removing it.
"Granger, wait. Don't." He whispered, his thumbs brushing along her pulse points.

"I won't say that I'm not disappointed that you don't want to show me who you are," she said.
"I just want to do something. You can show me when you're ready. Will you let me?"

He seemed to understand what she wanted without her saying a word and muttered
something under his breath. Her eyes widened slowly as the bottom half of his mask
vanished, keeping his nose, cheeks, and forehead still hidden. But he allowed her to see his
lips and jawline.

Sweet mother of Merlin, her mouth watered as she caught the hard line of his jaw, sharp and
strong. His skin glowed a faint tan from the fire in front of them. His lips were full and
plump, rosy with a defining cupid bow.

Hermione wetted her own lips as she curled her fingers around his strong jaw and leaned in,
flicking her eyes to his and then back to his lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as he parted his lips
for her, just as her lips brushed against his, and her breath was stolen as he captured her lips
with his own.

His arms circled around her back, pulling her closer, and everything goes oddly quietly
around them as neither of them moves, like the moment of silence between thunder and
lightning.

One heartbeat.

Then two.

Three.
 Four.

Five—jump—seven.

Then he groaned softly at the back of his throat, and then he's kissing her like crazy. Like
their lives depended on it. His tongue slips inside her mouth, gentle but demanding, and
Hermione soon realises that this kiss isn't how she experienced it with Krum or Cormac. And
she quickly realised what it meant, what people meant by kissing to be melting, because
every square inch of her body dissolves into him. He pulled her into his lap to straddle his
waist, his hands everywhere, up her back over her arms, and suddenly he's kissing her harder,
deeper, as though he were a man starved. With a fervent, urgent need, she didn't know she
had needed.

He tasted like sticky toffee apples, which are used at Christmas. A hint of firewhiskey on his
tongue.

Hermione reached up to remove his hood to see what hair he had when he snatched her wrists
to stop her and wound them around his neck instead. She locked her fingers together, sighing
into his mouth, accepting that he wasn't ready for her to know who he was just yet.

That was okay.

She could wait a bit longer as his hands travelled around her back, along her waist, over the
curve of her arse, and back up. Over and over on repeat, touching her wherever he could, but
not like the dream.

This time he was more gentle, careful, and delicate, as though she was made of glass.

He won't hurt me.

"Happy birthday, Granger." He panted against her lips not quite finished with her yet, pulling
her flush against his chest, needing her closer.

Hermione smiled against his lips, her mind clear as though she were floating on a cloud.

What neither of them realised, however, was that they weren't alone.

Ron was watching it all unfold in front of him, hurt and betrayed.

And he was furious in a ticking time bomb rage he had never ever experienced before.

He shakily raised his wand, aiming it at the Death Eater's chest, the killing curse right on the
tip of his tongue as the tip of his wand dripped in nasty, crackling green magic.

The locket around his neck as darkness washed over him to find the woman he had loved for
years in the arms of their enemy.

Chapter End Notes

Uh oh.

I'm afraid im going to have to leave you on that intense cliffy for a few days now
don't hate me!
🤭🤭
Hope you enjoyed please don't murder me! 🥰🥰
Lots of love!
 Chapter 7
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

He was kissing her.

He couldn't believe it. Draco Malfoy was kissing Hermione, a swot, bookish, clever, and
witty Granger.

Well, this isn't how he had expected this night to go considering the condition he had found
her in when he came here to bring her Pan for her birthday. Originally, as he had come here,
he'd found her asleep on the floor, sweating, muttering "stop, don't hurt me" under her breath
in her sleep. Then it got worse, to the point she was shouting, and he had to place a silencing
charm up over the tent to avoid Potter and Weasley coming out and catching him here.

Then as he'd tried to wake her quietly and she was screaming louder, he had to shout at her to
get her to wake, but he never expected her to pull her wand on him and stare at him as though
he was the worst person in the world.

Threatening to kill him, her eyes black in terror. Her hand shaking violently around her wand
aimed at his chest. She had looked at him as though he was the enemy, vile and cruel. A
dangerous predator.

It kind of stung that her mind had betrayed her after proving it to her that he wasn't who she
thought he was for the past few weeks alone.

Just as his plan to protect her had gone to bust, she'd called him back, and he wanted to stay
just to make sure that she was okay. Though he'd made sure to keep at a reasonable distance,
considering he saw her flinch out of the corner of his eye.

Though he hadn't expected her to pretty much crawl into his lap and try to show his identity,
he could tell just what she wanted. So he'd removed half of his mask to allow her to do what
she wanted to do.

He was glad that he was already sitting down as soon as her lips connected against his,
because he was certain he would've passed away.

Draco didn't know that kissing could feel like this.

Powerful, yet electric. A spark of recognition ignited a deep connection between them,
leaving him breathless and wanting more. So he did, as his hands searched her body, wishing
he could feel her properly under his bare hands instead of his covered ones. He felt nervous
but excited all at once.

As though they weren't in the middle of a war. No troubles, no one interfering, just free. That
tiny image of a hopeful future burst through to the front of his mind, picturing them
somewhere else.

On that porch, in the summer sun. Her sitting in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck,
his hands exploring every inch of her warm, small body.

She fit perfectly. Like a glove, as though she were made for him.

And then that moment ended when his sixth sense kicked in that they weren't alone at all. He
could feel the raging glare burning into the side of his face. Draco carefully removed his right
hand from her waist, keeping his lips attached to her sugary ones, and slipped it into his
trouser pocket for his spare wand as he caught a crackling green magic out of the corner of
his eye.

"Get down," he whispered against her lips, opening his eyes and sliding them to his right,
where he caught a silhouette of someone about to fire the killing curse right at him.

"What?" Granger pulled away, her brown eyes disappointed and confused but filled with lust.

Draco grabbed her by the arm and rolled her off of him, slamming her back up against his
own just as the curse fired, and he shot up a fast Protego, stopping it mid-fire. His seeker's
skill allowed him to be quicker and sharper.

"Get away from her!" Weasley charged towards him, his face red as a beetroot.

Draco quickly brought himself to a stand, flicking his wrist to block off another spell he fired
at him. His lips curled up into a sneer, swiping his wand down as he fired once again,
blocking it off quick and smoothly.

"Ron, stop!" Granger tried to get past him, but Draco grabbed her arm and yanked her back
behind him out of the fire line.

Weasley stood two feet away and slid his eyes behind Draco's shoulder, betrayal deep within
them. "How could you? Kissing a Death Eater scum!"

"Ron, I...I'm sorry," Granger started crying, trying to shuffle herself out of Draco's strong
grip. "I'm sorry, just calm down and let me explain!"

"You're a traitor," he spat, hurt evident in his tone, and Draco heard her breath hitch sharply
behind him. "You're not my friend."

"Ron, please--"

"The minute I've taken him down, you're gone!" Weasley said through clenched teeth. "How
long has this been going on!?"

"Granger, move back." Draco warned, pushing her back out of the way as she fought his arm
to get free.

"No, stop!" She ripped his hand off and rounded him, slotting herself between them, palms
raised at the both of them as she stood in the middle.
"Granger, get out of the way!"

"No! Just stop for a minute. Please stop," she stepped closer to him, dropping her voice low.
"Let me talk to him. He'll calm down, I promise; please don't hurt him." Her eyes were
glossed over with tears, her bottom lip still swollen from their kiss, shaking for her betrayal.

Draco's jaw clenched tightly, an impatient noise vibrating in his throat, as he stared down at
the terrified witch. "One finger," he said to her quietly for her own ears but intently. "One
finger on you and I promise that this will not end nicely. Friend or fucking not."

Granger nodded, her lips twitching into a frail smile as she blinked her tears back. She took a
deep breath as she splayed one hand on Draco's chest and pushed him back three steps.

He obeyed, wand tight in hand, eyes clamped on Weasley behind her, watching his every
move, prepared to step in for a nasty turn. Weasley looked furious, watching their interaction
in complete disgust; his hand twitched around his wand, and Draco copied it, fully prepared
to curse him into the next universe.

Hermione exhaled a shaky breath, glancing away from her stranger. Pan stayed still on her
shoulder, his feathers ruffled, ready for a fight. She turned to face Ron, and his blue eyes fell
on her, furious, disgusted, and vulnerable all at once.

"Ron, just give me a minute to explain. That's all I want." She whispered, trying to keep her
voice level.

"Who is he?"

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. "I—I don't know his name."

Ron scoffed, taking one step closer to her. "You kiss a Death Eater and don't even know his
name?" He spat the words like poison. "What? Do they know where we are? Are you trying
to sabotage what we're doing?"

"No, of course not! He's helping us!"

"You. I'm helping you," her stranger said behind her. "I never said anything about him and
Potter."

"Be quiet and let me do the talking!" She shot back at him over her shoulder. She turned back
to Ron, reaching her hand out. "Ron, please just try and understand--"

"Understand?!" His voice rose. "How could I possibly understand this?! He's the fucking
enemy!"

"He's not; he's my friend, and he's a spy!"

"A spy to get into your knickers? It seems more like that! First you save Malfoy from Harry,
and now you're doing this? What is wrong with you?!"
"That was different!" Her tears vanished, anger sharp in her tone as she stepped up closer to
him. "That was different, and you know it!"

"How?!" He shouted in her face. "Explain to me how saving the fucking ferrets miserable life
and snogging some random Death Eater is a logical explanation!"

"Because he was about to die, and he was begging me to save him!" She shouted back, barely
catching her stranger's breath hitch in surprise behind her. "He was begging me to help him,
and Harry was going to just let him bleed to death! I couldn't do that; he was so close to
death, and he needed me. He's here to help Malfoy return the favour; that is all."

Ron scoffed, shaking his head at her as his jaw shook in agitation. "Harry should've left him.
I agree with Harry; he's a bully, and he hates you. He got what he deserved." He taunted.
"Watch this space, Hermione. He," he pointed over her shoulder, keeping his eyes on her. "Is
playing you. Mark my words, he's playing you and will turn you in when you least expect
it."

She shook her head, her hand reaching out to touch his arm, but he snatched it away from her
as though she were poison. "He won't. He's been the one sending us food, how I found out
about how to destroy the Horcruxes. He's not a bad person. He kept me hidden when some
Snatchers appeared."

Ron gaped at her through his furious expression. Tracking his eyes all over her, up and down
as though he was seeing her for the first time. "Over a month? Are you kidding me? You've
been sneaking off to see him for over a month and lying to us?"

"We met at the wedding." Hermione kept her chin high, but her shaking voice betrayed her.

Ron paled further. Looking more disgusted with her with each ticking second that passed
them. "You've told him about the Horcruxes too?" Oh no. He didn't like that at all; he looked
murderous as he tucked the locket into his t-shirt protectively.

Hermione nodded, the tears biting at her eyes once again. "I—I trust him, Ron. He's not our
enemy."

"And yet," his eyes left her face, his jaw setting as he looked over her shoulder. "He's too
ashamed to show you who he is." He scoffed disgustingly. "Seems like trust to me." He
finished sarcastically. "I'm getting Harry, and we're leaving. I don't want to see you again."

Hermione's heart spiked in panic as he turned and started storming back into the tent. "Ron,
don't! Please don't tell him! I can't lose you both!" She chased after him, grabbing him by the
arm and yanking him back.

"Too late! He's going to know the truth, and we'll finish this without you!" He shrugged her
hand off, fastening his strides.

"Ron, please!" She cried.

"Get off me!" His hand backswinged as he turned to face her, the back of his hand connecting
in a painful slap right across her face that made her lose balance and immediately let him go.

Hermione gasped, her skin hot red and burning up in the shape of his hand. She placed her
hand over it, glancing back at Ron on the verge of bursting into tears as she tasted copper
seeping into her bottom teeth. She darted her tongue out and felt a swollen, fresh cut on her
bottom lip.

He had split her lip open from the force of his smack.

Ron immediately looked guilty, his anger dropping, realising he had hurt her. Hermione only
caught him not even taking an inch of a step towards her when a swirl of black blocked him
from her view, and then Ron was on his back, her Death Eater pressing his knee into his
throat and his wand digging into the side of his face.

"You're going to pay for that, Weasle!"

"Don't!" Hermione rushed to their sides as Ron struggled to breathe, choking as the Death
Eater pressed his knee harder into his throat. "Please, stop, you'll kill him!"

"Good," he whispered in a venomous voice, his eyes black in furious rage, his wand shaking
against Ron's skin. "I warned you if he touched you. He touched you, and now he's going to
pay." His teeth clenched, his jaw tightened hard; she could see the muscles beneath his skin.

"Please, don't! It was an accident!" Hermione begged him. "Please!" She almost screamed as
Ron's lips began to turn blue, and the Death Eater finally made eye contact with her.

Hermione choked on a sob as he stared at her, without removing his wand or his knee.
"Please, don't kill him or hurt him. He didn't mean it." She whispered hoarsely, tears running
down her face.

The Death Eater stared at her silently for a few moments, considering something in his head
as his eyes narrowed. His eyes softened slightly as he nodded and released his knee from
Ron's throat and his wand from the deep presupposition of his cheek.

Ron gasped and clawed at his throat for air, sucking it all in, coughing and choking.
"Psychopath." He weakly said, glaring up at the Death Eater still straddling his chest.

"I may be a psychopath," he taunted viciously, pressing the tip of his wand into Ron's temple.
"But I'm only a psychopath for her. You mess with her, you mess with me. Unfortunately, you
chose wrongly tonight." A cruel smirk painted its way across his attractive mouth.

"What—what are you doing?" Ron panted, wriggling under his strong hold, eyes wide
frightfully glancing at Hermione then back to him. "Hermione, get him off me!"

"Please, just stop." She tried much more calmly, placing her slim fingers around his wrist
beside Ron's head. "I think he's gotten the message."

The Death Eater shook his head. "I made a deal that you wouldn't lose your friends because
of Malfoy, Granger. And I intend to stick to that. He won't remember this in the morning."
Hermione's brows furrowed, her brain not catching up to what he was implying. Then it
clicked into place as his mouth opened to say the charm she hated more than anything.

"No! Don't--"

"Obliviate."

Hermione gasped, her lungs seized up as a blank canvas washed over Ron's face. His eyes
dropped close, and his breathing evened out as his brows twitched. The Death Eater then
grabbed a vial attached to his chest holster, opened it, and placed three drops between Ron's
parted lips.

Within two minutes, Ron was out like a light, and he stopped the spell.

"Why did you do that? How far did you wipe his memories?"

The Death Eater climbed off him, standing to his full height, placed a levitating charm over
Ron, and grabbed his arm, guiding him into the tent without saying a word.

Hermione sat there startled as Pan flapped his wings and hopped off her shoulder, turning
himself into a black fox. "Master just removed his memories of what he witnessed, miss.
Nothing more, nothing less." He said as he sat down, curling his fluffy tail in at his front
paws.

Hermione was startled by Pan speaking to her. "You—you can talk?" Her eyes widened,
flabbergasted.

Pan nodded his long, fluffy, black triangle ears flopping forwards. "I can, miss. Talk, protect,
change, and keep you warm. But I can be hurt or killed. Master couldn't make me immortal,
no matter how hard he tried."

Hermione sighed, reaching her hand out to stroke him between his ears. "Pan, do you know
your master's name? He won't tell me." She whispered quietly, hoping Harry was still asleep
inside.

Pan shook his head, giving her the puppy dog look. "I don't know who he is or what he looks
like. He never shows his face."

Her shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Secretive, isn't he?" She asked, smiling softly but
winced at the aching pulse of her split lip.

"Just a bit."

"He's going to be all right," the Death Eater came back out from the tent and crouched down
in front of her, taking her jaw in one hand and angling her face better in the moonlight. "He'll
be knocked out until morning."

Hermione's brows furrowed as he studied her injuries, a trickle of anger swiping through his
silver eyes as he used his wand to gently heal her bruising skin.
"Why did you wipe his memories?"

He tapped his wand against her lip, and she felt it knit back together as he brushed his thumb
along her jawline. "So that they won't leave you. I read his thoughts; he was going to tell
Potter and abandon you. It's not the time for me to take you somewhere in case they ever
leave you behind. It's not finished yet."

"What's not finished?"

He met her eyes and simply stared. Lips pressed into a thin line as he stared right through her.
Then when he didn't reply, he let her go and stood straight, holding his hand out to help her
up. She took his hand and allowed him to help her stand.

"Go and get some sleep." He said. "Pan will look after you tomorrow." He let her hand go
and took a step back, giving her some space.

"Are you all right?" She asked, sensing something was wrong and different.

"Bed, Granger." He pointed towards the tent, his eyes hard, a tension of something she didn't
fully understand around them. His jaw clenched so hard, she was surprised that his teeth
didn't shatter from the force.

Hermione stepped closer, hoping to get one last kiss as a goodnight, but he shook his head, a
warning in place over his eyes. Disappointment settled in the pit of her stomach, and she
nodded, curling her arms around herself, and headed back into her tent with Pan behind her.
She went to look back but caught the smoke of him vanishing into thin air, catching her
vision instead.

Hermione went to bed, confused and hurt that Ron had hit her, though he wouldn't remember;
she sure wouldn't forget that. He had never ever laid a finger on her despite how many falling
outs they had in the past. She cried herself to sleep, burying her face into Pan's fluffy neck.

~♡~

2 days later-

Draco tested the stairs with one foot, concentrating hard in the Granger's residence. It creaked
underneath his shoe; the rotten wood cracked and crumbled just from a simple brush of his
foot.

Rotten and weak.

"Hm," he muttered to himself as he withdrew his wand from his pocket and crouched down,
studying it closely. "Not sure if this is going to work, but we shall try."
He aimed his wand at the caved-in bottom step and tried what he used before. Sometimes the
spell worked brilliantly; it all depended on the amount of damage that an object had suffered.
Sometimes it wouldn't work at all, and he'd have to try it a different way.

"Repairo." He whispered.

The wood, nails, and plaster slotted, clonked, and mended their way back together, one step
at a time. Draco levitated the bannister and placed it back into the wall as the stairs mended
themselves one by one as he walked up them. The nails screwed it back in, twisting tightly to
keep it more secure, and then as the last step, weaved its way back together. He turned as he
got to the top, flicked his wand, and the walnut wood painted itself in a fresh gloss white
colour.

"Merlin!" Draco yelped, grabbing onto the wall to stop himself from falling down the stairs
as Crooks jumped up onto his shoulder. "Wish you'd stop doing that." He scolded him, side-
eyeing him.

Crooks purred, nuzzling his wiry whiskers against the side of Draco's face.

"Yeah, yeah. All right." Draco cringed away, sighing heavily as he handed him a treat from
his pocket. "What am I now? A fancy seat for you, your majesty?"

Crookshanks sat right on his shoulder, puffing his dark orange chest out, almost smiling as he
stared at Draco.

"Typical," he tutted, moving away from the stairs to face four doors surrounding him. "Which
room is your mom's?" He asked in curiosity, lifting one brow.

Crookshanks chittered, stretching his paw out to Draco's right to show him, so Draco
followed and trusted his instincts. After Theo had pretty much broken into his room, Draco
decided that for now it would be safer to bring Crooks with him every time he came here to
work on her house. He didn't want his mother or father going in there and finding him
stretched out on his bed, he seemed to now own and giving him an earful.

The kitchen, front room, hallway, and front door were fixed. The scorch marks on the wall
were completely gone, replaced with a fresh lick of paint and wallpaper that was once there.
Even the hole he had blasted himself in the wall when he first met Crookshanks was mended
as though it had never happened.

All that was left was the upstairs, back garden, and front, and then he was going to buy
furniture to make it homely for her, all from the money in his own vault at times when he
wasn't needed.

Luckily he could come here as much as he wanted for now. Voldemort was currently away
searching for something all by himself, which meant no more Death Eaters in his home, no
snake, no cruel dark lord—just peace and quiet for a bit.

(Apart from his bickering family.)

Draco walked in; Crookshanks immediately jumped off his shoulder and jumped up onto
Granger's bed that was still here. Huh. Surprisingly, this room hadn't been touched.
Everything was still in its own place.

Her bed by the door to his right, a desk by the bay window, a wardrobe across the far left-
hand side, and a fireplace opposite him.

Draco scrunched his nose as he walked in, taking a good look around. "She sure likes purple,
doesn't she?" He grimaced, taking in the decor of the room.

Purple butterfly curtains draped neatly on either side of the window. Violet silk and Saturn
bedding on her double bed with a cream, animal fur throw draped neatly at the end. Light
purple paint surrounded the walls as he turned in one full circle.

Crookshanks responded by sticking his back leg up, showing Draco his bits and washed at
them.

Draco shuddered in disgust, ripping his eyes away from him. "Revolting. Don't get
comfortable, beast; we have to go in a few minutes." He folded his arms across his chest,
deciding to look around properly to see if she had left anything valuable behind that she may
want.

He searched through her wardrobe; nothing. Her desk. Nothing.

Beside table. Still nothing.

She'd taken everything he gathered and just left her furniture behind instead.

Smart witch.

"I half expected this room to be draped in red and gold. Not bloody purple." He scoffed,
smirking, picturing her sitting at her desk, hunched over writing letters to Potter and Weasley
over the holidays or preparing for school. He smiled ever so slightly as he imagined her
sticking the wrong end of her quill into her mouth in her concentration, just like she used to
at school. (Not that he had noticed.)

Could see her, brows furrowed in deep concentration. Her cute button nose wrinkling if she
got something wrong and putting her curls up into a bun to keep her hair out of her face,
sticking her wand through it to hold it together. (Not that he had noticed that either, ahem.)

He could see her huffing and puffing if she got something wrong and screwing up her
parchment into a ball, tossing it into the small bin in frustration. (Definitely didn't see her
doing that, flinging balls of parchment into a nearby bin in class, getting it in there in one
shot.)

Draco traced his fingers against the back of her chair as he locked eyes with her bed and
cocked his head to the side, imagining her sitting on her bed, crossed-legged, working on her
homework or studying over the holidays. Perhaps practicing a few legal spells, concentrating
hard. Maybe reading a book, with her legs stretched out, swinging her crossed ankles back
and forth in front of her whilst she got lost in another world.

He could almost see her smiling, laughing, or crying depending on the type of book she was
reading.

Then an image fluttered into his mind of her sobbing into her own pillow, of the slur leaving
his lips and her crying her eyes out for his past behaviour towards her. His smile dropped, a
twang of guilt spiked at his chest imagining her telling her parents about it the very first time
he had said it, then coming up here to cry herself to sleep for his insults.

Making fun of her hair, her teeth, her swottiness.

He could practically hear the ghosts of her cries in his ears from his cruel behaviour.

He pushed those thoughts back, snapping himself back to reality, and picked Crooks up like a
baby in his arms, ignoring his gruffling mewling protest. "Come on, beast. Time to go."

Crookshanks yawned in his arms, licking at his paws, and adjusted himself comfortably as
Draco apparated them away straight back to his room. He fed him, showered, and changed
into his Death Eater robes, quickly showing her in the mirror to him to make sure that she
was alone.

Un-fucking-fortunately, she was not.

Granger was sat by the fire, outside with Potter, both of them absolutely miserable, staring at
the fire.

"I can't believe he's left us," she said, chucking a stone into the fire in a strop.

Draco sat down on his chaise, mask dangling between his fingers, narrowing his eyes at the
pair of them.

Potter was picking apart a piece of grass between his fingers. "He'll come back. I'm sure of it,
Hermione."

"I can't believe he said that to you about your parents. Ron is never that cruel." Her brows
pinched together in anger.

Draco scoffed to himself, shaking his head. "Don't you remember the slap he gave you,
Granger?" He asked her, even though she couldn't hear him. His hand clenched against his
thigh the image still very red in his mind.

"Well, it was the locket. It's affecting all three of us. I don't think he would've said that if he
didn't have that on." Potter said, his lips twitching into a small, sad smile.

Granger nodded, holding her hand out to Pan, who was in the shape of a--

Oh, you little devil.

A fucking ferret!

Bastard. He did not create him to transform him into a bloody ferret. Perhaps he should steal
him back to put that to a stop altogether. He didn't need a reminder he had once been turned
into one.

No, thank you, Salazar.

"Where did you get him anyway?" Potter gestured to Pan in her hand.

Draco watched closely as she tensed up but caught her brain quickly thinking of an excuse to
tell him.

"I found him injured in the forest, lost and afraid." She said as she scratched him under the
chin, smiling at him. "He can talk, and he's gotten attached to me. I hope you don't mind?"

"Of course not," Potter nudged her shoulder lightly. "He's pretty cute. Makes it funnier that
he's in the shape of a creature of our mortal enemy." He chuckled. "What a great day that
was."

"Very fucking funny, Potter." Draco sneered at the mirror, his eye twitching. Yes, he would
definitely be snatching Pan back to make a small twinge to stop that from happening.

"Shut up, Harry." She laughed, guiding Pan to rest on her shoulder. He curled up, nuzzling his
snout into her cheek, then closed his eyes. "Have you found anything on the snitch yet?"

"Not yet," he shook his head. "It's got to mean something, though. But I'm going to get to
bed. Where are we moving tomorrow?" He asked as he stood brushing off his jeans.

"By the coast of Eastbourne. There's an old campsite we can rest for a week there."

"Okay, make sure you get some sleep." He reminded her as he walked off back to the tent.

"I will, Harry." She called back, pulling the blanket over her legs, and pulled out her book
once again.

Draco waited a good ten minutes to make sure that Potter wasn't coming back. Satisfied he
wasn't, he placed his mask on his face, placed the voice-hiding charms, and apparated straight
there, making her jump as he landed in a loud thud of his boots beside her.

"Godric! I wish you'd stop doing that!" She placed her hand to her chest, retrieving her book
face down on the floor.

"Hello to you too, Granger." He said curtly.

Granger glared up at him for scaring her and repositioned herself more comfortably with her
book. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you're doing. After the other night."
She sighed heavily, reading her book instead of looking at him. "I'm fine."

Draco cocked one brow up at her under his mask. "That's it? That's all I get. I'm fine." He
repeated sarcastically.

Granger closed her book in her lap, tracing the front cover sadness on her features. "Ron's left
us."

"Oh," he said without a hint of generosity. "That's too bad. Never mind then."

"He accused me and Harry of dating," she said, finally meeting his eyes, anger flaring in
them. "Me and Harry?" She pointed to herself and scoffed. "Atrocious. Ridiculous and stupid.
Harry's like my brother; I don't see him in that way."

Thank fuck for that.

"Mind?" He gestured to the space beside her, and she nodded, shifting over to give him some
room. He sat down next to her, stretched his legs out, and crossed his ankles together, folding
his arms across his chest. "So he left because of that?"

"No, not just that." Her brows furrowed into an emotion he couldn't quite place. "He thinks
that I and Harry have been leaving him out on the hunt. Talking as if he's not even there with
us, which is not the case." She pointed out loudly. "Then he told Harry that he's alone and has
no family. An orphan."

Draco scrunched his nose, biting back a snort of indifference. "Not to be crass here or
anything, Granger. But Potter is an orphan if you haven't noticed. Isn't that the whole point of
this war?"

Granger looked at him, narrowing her eyes at his dark humour. "I may not know who you are,
but you seem to have forgotten the bottom half of your mask. I can see you smirking, and it's
not funny."

Merlin's balls I forgot to put it back.

He dropped his smirk, resisting a sneer instead. "Lighten up, Granger. Merlin."

Granger huffed, going back to her book, evidently ignoring him, turning her pages too hard in
agitation.

"How's your duelling?" Draco spoke again after a few minutes of heavy silence.

"Fine."

Her pulse skipped against his finger. Lying again, it appeared.

"Well, I'd like to test that theory," he offered, snatching her book from her and closing it shut.
He rather enjoyed snatching her things from her; he loved to rile her up and see her hair spark
in angry magic. He pulled it away from her as she tried reaching for it. "Starting from
tomorrow, you and I are going to practice duelling together."
 Granger shot him a look that could kill as he hid her book behind his back. "I'm fine; I don't
need to practice. I was a part of Dumbledore's Army in fifth year. I know how to fight."

"As fascinating as that sounds," he drawled, bored out of his brains. "I want to see how much
you remember. Because lately you've been rather slow and jumpy."

"And whose fault is that for sneaking up on me when I least expect it?"

"That's the entire point," he clipped at her. "You don't react; you just jump like a spooked
animal. From now on, whenever I appear, I want you to pull your wand on me and hurl a
spell at me. Because despite what you know, the Death Eaters are getting stronger, more
lethal, and more powerful, and you'll be fucked if you're on that battlefield and can't fire back
quick enough."

Granger sarcastically laughed at him as though that idea was ridiculous altogether. "You want
me to hit you with a spell."

"You can try." He pulled her book back out, opening it up to her last page, and started
reading. His tone is sarcastic and snobby all at once. "Doesn't mean you'll hit me. I'm much
faster than you. I bet you anything I could bind you before that spell hits me in the chest."

"You're very full of yourself." She retorted.

Draco just smirked at her, knowing full well that she was right. "We'll start tomorrow," he
said, opening his legs and turning her around, pulling her back up against his chest as he
draped one arm around her waist, holding the book out in front of them. "I'll make a fighter
out of you yet, Granger." He kissed her temple as though this was natural.

Granger settled into his arms, sighing in content as she laced their fingers together with her
hand over the top of his. "We'll see about that, stranger." She said through a tired yawn.

Draco snorted to himself and focused on the story, the smell of her hair, and the sound of the
fire crackling and popping. He felt her start to grow heavy in his arms after a few hours,
implying that she was falling asleep, and he had no intentions to leave her until morning.

So he didn't. He read longer for a while until sleep started to take him too. The next morning
he woke up to them lying on the ground, Granger's head on his chest and his arms wrapped
around her, keeping her warm and safe.

He didn't leave her for another hour, a part of him hoping that this wasn't just a dream and
that it was all real. The other part of him was scared of what all these intimate touches and
conversations were leading them to.

He didn't know, but he was enthrilled to find out what else could possibly happen between
them.

Chapter End Notes

 🙄
I was going to update for you yesterday but something came up and for some reason I
really struggled to put this one together

Anyway, hope you enjoyed never the less next update will be Friday 🥰
Will reply to comments when I get the chance
 Chapter 8
Chapter Notes

🥰
Almost didn't have a chapter today after the maintence my account was being so slow I
opted to read instead as I gave up trying to open it but then it started working again

I apologise in advance for what happens in this chapter.......

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Eastbourne-

Hermione left Harry to work on the snitch as she wandered around the abandoned campsite
needing to stretch her legs. It was still light out, midday, she presumed. The air was salty
from the coast of the English sea. The wind was slightly sharp, creating a cold bite to her
cheeks and nose.

She looked around at the abandoned, blown-apart campervans surrounding her as she walked
with Pan trotting beside her in the form of a black German shepherd. Gone, long forgotten.

The faint, distant sounds of families, children, and animals echoed in her mind as she wound
around the dead grass paths.

Her heart twanged. Another thing the Death Eaters and Snatchers had destroyed. Picking off
whoever they could whenever they wanted to.

She sighed heavily, a faint image of her coming here one year when she was ten with her
parents for a summer holiday. She remembered her dad taking her down to the beach early
one morning whilst her mum slept off a mild hangover, building sandcastles together. Racing
the salty water from touching their feet against the sand as the tide came in. Hunting for
buried treasure that pirates from centuries ago might have left behind.

Then as the morning turned to afternoon, he took her back to the seaside town, picked up
lunch for them, brought her her favourite ice cream, cherry-vanilla, and took her back to their
own campervan. They'd eat together, go down to the amusements, sometimes the fair, and
then start all over again the next day.

Hermione kicked a stone in her path as she shoved her hands into her pockets. The seagulls
squawked as they glided over them, hoping that she was carrying some food for them.

"Are you all right, miss?" Pan asked, sensing something was wrong, coming closer to her
side.
Hermione smiled down at him, though it was strained. "Just missing my parents, that's all.
And you can call me Hermione Pan."

Pans dark honey eyes lit up at her, licking at his wet snout. "Master seems to like you."

Hermione snorted, taking a left to head down to the beach for a while. "He's so...mysterious.
When I first met him, I was convinced he was here to damage my reputation. But he's so--"

"Hot?" Pan chuckled, his voice smooth like a teenage boy going through the first stages of
puberty.

Her cheeks flushed. "That's one way of putting it. I wish I knew who he was; something's
telling me I know him, but at the same time I don't want to admit it."

Pan suddenly skidded to a halt, his ears pricking as he narrowed his eyes around the area they
were standing in. Hermione stopped with him, sensing something was wrong as he lowered
his head, looking around.

"Pan? What is it?"

"Someone's here, Hermione." Pan started growling, changing his stance in front of her,
protecting her immediately as he stared between two campervans right into the shadows.

Hermione's wand flew out from her sleeve, putting herself into position to prepare for a fight
as a shadow moved quickly between the campervans. She clenched her jaw, hearing a
whooshing movement of someone circling them. She whipped around, stanced into position,
eyes narrowed into concentrated slits as she tried to seek out who was here with them.

Pans hackles rose dangerously along his spine. His sharp teeth bared, as he slotted himself
between her legs like trained sniffer dogs for the police or the army.

"Can you see them, Pan?" She whispered, the footsteps getting dangerously quiet as the
shadow kept moving much too fast for her to keep up.

Pan sniffed the air, stopping them short as he focused on an area behind a bush. But then his
ears pricked, rotating backward, and that's when Hermione felt someone right behind her.

"Stup--"

Hermione's spell was cut short, as someone took her out just as she made to turn and fire. A
clean swipe to her legs, causing her to fall flat on her back, knocked the wind out of her, and
Pan charged, leaping up over her to attack whoever it was that was here and ready to attack,
snarling and growling. But then she heard an "oh," a gentle whine from her companion, as
her ears buzzed from smacking the back of her head as Pan sat still, relaxing immediately at
her feet.

"Fast," a throaty, amused, deep voice floated into her ears as her vision swirled back into
place. "But not so fast enough. Good job, Pan."
Hermione sat up on her palms, shaking her head as the tall, broad-shouldered figure of her
stranger came into view. She glared at him, her wand clattered by her side, and found him
towering over her, his mask fully back in place covering him completely and his arms folded
across his chest. Grey eyes twinkling in delight, staring down at her.

"Did you have to?" She shot at him irritably, fully aware she was sitting in a patch of mud.

He dipped his head in a curt nod. "I wanted to test it, and judging by my theory, I was correct.
You're quick, but not as quick as I had hoped." He tsked.

Hermione huffed invigoratingly, blowing a loose curl out of her eyes. "You're quicker than
me; I could barely keep up with you lurking in the shadows."

"Exactly my point, Granger. What do you expect the Death Eaters to do? Be slow and give
you a chance to fire? No, of course not." He scoffed incredulously as he held his hand out to
her to help her up.

Hermione refused it, pushing herself to her own feet, retrieving her wand, and quickly
cleaning herself up. "So what do you want? It's the middle of the day."

"I'm well aware," he said sarcastically, paying his attention to Pan. "Go and rest for a bit, boy.
I need an hour with your incompetent owner."

Hermione's jaw slackened in offence as Pan chuckled and trotted off to a patch of grass,
under the sun, and laid down, leaving them alone. "You're so crude." She frowned.

"Hm," he tilted his head to the side, scanning her for something she couldn't understand.
"Maybe. The point is, we have two months to get you stronger, quicker, and your reactive
state faster."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Why two months? I and Harry are nowhere near done
yet."

"Because I am going to be unavailable at the end of November leading up to the twentieth of

December. I won't be in the country; therefore, I won't be able to get to you just like that," he
snapped his gloved fingers sharply. "I cannot leave whilst you're incapable of putting up a
fight on your own."

"Oh," disappointment settled into the pit of her chest, something sharp tearing at her insides
at the thought of him not being close by. "W-when do you leave?"

"The twenty-seventh of November."

"Four weeks?" She said quietly, her mouth turning into a downward frown as she quickly
added up the dates in her head.

Hermione's stranger nodded with a certain grimace and reluctant thought of it all together in
his eyes as he stared at her. "The Dark Lord is recruiting me and a few others to travel to
Australia for some more recruits."
Hermione's face immediately paled, her stomach twisting. "A-Australia?" She choked out,
her breathing suddenly wheezy.

No, no, no. Not where her parents were. How could he let this happen? They couldn't go
there; if they were out in the street, they would recognise them straight away and bring them
back here, whilst they had no recollection of who they were or who she even was. She felt the
moment she began to panic, her chest suddenly tight as though someone was crushing her,
and stumbled back as her breathing grew unsteady.

He was by her side in an instant, smooth and easy as he grabbed her elbow to steady her and
stood in front of her, grasping her shoulders. "Breathe, Granger." He calmly said, catching her
panic attack. "Breathe and calm down. I won't let them go near them."

"But—I didn't—what are you--?"

"I know about your parents," he confessed, breaking his resolve as she searched his eyes.
Now he had his mask covering his mouth; it was hard to tell what he was showing her. "Stop
panicking. I won't let anything happen to them, I swear. Just take a breather and calm down
for a second."

Hermione nodded, taking several deep breaths in through her nose, her back muscles
untensing as she flicked her eyes back and forth between his. "How did you know?" She
whispered.

He let her shoulders go as his hand raised as though to card through his hair. Then as his
fingers brushed his hood, he seemed to remember himself and curled it into a fist as he
dropped it to his side; a hard tension settled in his eyes. "Because I came to check on you and
saw your sacrifice to keep them safe." He admitted, though he sounded conflicted to do so.

"You were there?" She gaped at him.

"Mm," he hummed, tracking his eyes all over, as he brushed a loose curl out of her face,
sending a warm shiver up her spine. "I saw you. And I saw how hurt you were. There's more
I need to tell you, Granger. But in good time, I promise. Can you trust me on that?"

"Yes." She said without hesitation, then placed her fingers to her lips, frowning at herself for
how quickly she had answered him. Over a month ago, she didn't want to be near him; now
all he did was consume her thoughts.

And that smirk.

She'd seen it before. But on whom? Her brain was too frazzled to figure out who he was,
Harry and the War, and Ron's behaviour. Her parents, the constant flight or fight response to
be prepared for an attack. The Horcruxes, the Snitch. She stared at him, a longing part of her
to just be able to see past the silver skull and know who he was.

Subconsciously she knew the name and the face were right on the tip of her tongue, but no
matter how hard she had tried, it cut off as though she wasn't allowed to picture it. A part of
her—a very, very, very small 1% fraction of her—presumed that he was Malfoy. He had grey
eyes, just like his father? She wasn't 100% certain. Truthfully she'd never paid enough
attention to him over the years to look deep enough into his eyes, and that day in the
bathroom she'd been too busy trying to calm him down to even pay attention to the colour of
them.

Would Malfoy be coming here undercover to repay the favour?

That didn't seem possible to her own mind as they stared at each other for a very long time.
He didn't seem the type to help her but would get someone else to do it for him so that he
could stay with his mother and not dwindle down his pride for a mudblood.

She still—regardless—hated him.

It's because of him she was in this mess in the first place. He wasn't Malfoy. If he was, she
was sure that if he wanted her trust out of everyone, he would've shown his face to her by
now and been proud of it. His stuck-up personality, despite his troubled life, always came
first to show her who was boss.

He walked and strutted like Malfoy. Jabbed at her like Malfoy. Was the smirk like Malfoy's?
Is that where she had seen it before? She mostly remembered a sneer on that handsome face
more than anything. As though he was constantly disgusted by everything and everyone
around him.

She wanted to test something out just to be sure.

"What are you thinking so hard about there, Granger?" He mused, breaking her thoughts.

"Who are you? Why won't you show me or tell me?"

The silver eyes narrowed into thin slits. "We've already discussed this. My identity to you is
to remain hidden for the time being." He hissed. She took note of the way his hands clenched
in agitation at his sides.

Hermione brushed her windswept hair out of her face and took a deep breath, wanting to test
his reaction. "Why's that, Malfoy?" She didn't truthfully think that it was him.

But if it was him, if Hermione challenged against him, Malfoy always bit back at her. She
eyed him carefully, focusing on his body language. If he did something, then she would know
straight away.

Nothing.

Not a twitch or a reaction at the surname whatsoever.

"Nice try," he said smoothly. "I'm not Malfoy. He said you might test me to see if I was him.
What were you expecting?" He cocked his head to the side, amusement clear in his tone.

"A snarky comeback. A twitch, a threat. That's all he's good for towards me. I had to test it,"
she lifted her chin. "You're too..." she trailed off, trying to think of the right word as she
chewed on her bottom lip.
"Too what?" He stretched it out as he took a step closer to her.

Hermione swallowed thickly, narrowing her eyes further, hoping to break him. "Too touchy."
He hummed at her answer. "Malfoy hates touching me. If you were really him, I can
guarantee he wouldn't have kissed me back as you did."

"Know him so well, do you?" He towered over her, an expression clouding his eyes that she
couldn't quite decipher. "You never know."

"Would he?" Hermione craned her neck to meet him as she heard his soft breaths hit against
his mask. "I know he hates me. He'd be disgusted if he knew what I did."

"What? Covering up his mark and holding his arm in the hospital wing? Humming to him as
he slept? He knows more than you think, Granger." Was he sneering and growing defensive
as though she had insulted him? She couldn't fucking tell with that godforsaken mask hiding
his face.

"He never--"

"He saw you," the Death Eater pressed, a flash of anger swirling in his eyes. "In his sleepy,
heavy state, he saw you touching him. Did he push you off?"

She shook her head softly.

"He doesn't hate you anymore," he gritted through his teeth, his words drawn out, dripping
like poison off his tongue. "Get that into your head. If he did, I wouldn't be here. Do you
understand me?"

Hermione nodded shakily, exhaling, breathing in his intoxicating cologne. Malfoy didn't hate
her. Then why wasn't he here proving it to her himself? It hurt for some strange reason.

"Then why won't you show me who you are? I'm tired of trying to figure it out, and I'm sick
of calling you a stranger. Just give me a name, anything. Please." She pleaded him, sounding
desperate but she didn't truly care.

The Death Eater levelled his gaze into hers, but he didn't say anything as he debated on his
answer.

"You said that you're his friend. If you're not Nott," she blinked stupidly as her tongue was
tied at that. Annoying surname. "And not Zabini. Then who are you? There's only a handful
that I know that you could be. Please, just tell me so I can stop giving myself a headache."
She sighed reluctantly.

Please tell me. Please tell me the truth. She silently begged in her head as he sighed heavily,
one of his eyes twitching.

"Pucey." He said taking her by surprise. "Adrian Pucey. There. Are you happy?" Draco
thought of the first name that he could think of. He wasn't exactly close with Pucey anymore;
they had only really been close on the Quidditch Team once upon a time.
That all ended during his sixth year, and Theo took over as seeker for him.

"The chaser for the Slytherin team?" Hermione furrowed her brows in mild confusion. Since
when was he a Death Eater? Though she couldn't recall the last time she had laid eyes on
him. He was, after all, a year above them all.

"Yes, Granger. The one and only." He mocked, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Hm," she considered him carefully, unsure if he was telling the truth or not. Though she
could distinctly remember he had once been close with Malfoy and was never much of the
type to make her life hell. Quiet kid, more focused on Quidditch and rarely cheated. It sort of
made sense. "And why did you kiss me?"

Adrian shrugged his shoulders at her. "A heat of the moment. It won't happen again; I'm not
here to form a dalliance with you. I'm here on business." He said, turning away from her to
scan the area.

A settle of disappointment coiled in her stomach. Did she even like Pucey? She didn't know,
but she had certainly enjoyed kissing him.

"Then what was last night? Kissing my forehead and holding me in your arms?" She searched
the side of his mask. Watching his shoulder slump in a rough exhale.

"I got carried away." He said softly. "I'm still not showing my face, Granger. I can't risk being
caught. It's easier under here; it makes it harder for them to report back if I stay hidden." He
met her gaze, and she saw a war deep inside of them. "I'm here to work. That's all. No more
kissing. Start training."

"Fine." She gritted her teeth, pulling out her wand from her sleeve more pissed off than she
liked to admit.

He ordered her to stand in front of him, and she did as she was told without meeting his gaze
again the entire time as he put her into a duelling position. Angled her wand more
prominently, all the while as he talked her through it and kept his hands on her the entire
time. He showed her how to stand and walked her through his training to fight against ten
Death Eaters at once.

She half listened, too angry at him for pretty much rejecting her and getting her hopes up. He
walked her back to her tent, Pan trotting beside them the entire time, and she walked through
the tent without a word to him, leaving him alone outside the other side of the wards.

Hermione cried herself to sleep that night, kicking herself for slightly falling for someone—
no, Pucey—first and making the first move.

What a fucking idiot.

~♡~
November-

It was almost time for Pucey to go. In a few days he would be leaving, and for the last two
months they had trained together every day. She was getting stronger, quicker, and faster. The
first few times he had made a quick and rather silent arrival, he had been much faster and
bound her, hexed her, or tripped her up before she had the chance to react. She hated it to no
end, but over time, as he taught her his tricks as she and Harry moved from place to place,
she easily learnt how to sense when someone was there.

When he was there.

A sixth sense, he had told her.

You would know by the way the air shifted to sense danger, and it didn't take her long to pick
up on it. Now she was faster than him and had taken him by surprise a few times, doing to
him what he did to her.

He was growing impressed with her movements and often found himself now on his back at
the end of their duelling sessions at her mercy. Her boot pressing into his chest, from her fast
knockout hexes and her wand aimed at his forehead. He'd grab her ankle and flip them over,
and she'd kick off forcefully, winding him until he was hunched over to the ground and
straddling his chest, digging her wand under his chin, a nasty jinx pinching at his skin,
scraping him but not enough to cause him physical harm.

Fast, powerful, and undeterred.

Neither of them had spoken of his rejection. She wanted to, but at the same time, she had
learnt to deal with it. Gotten over it. He became less touchy, and she noticed that whenever he
wanted to pull her into his arms, he stopped himself and put space between them, clearing his
throat.

Was she really that bad? Couldn't anyone just care for her back in intimacy just as she
wanted, job or not?

She guessed not.

"Harry, you're sick," Hermione sat at the edge of his cot, pressing the back of her hand to his
forehead.

Red hot as though he were a radiator. Way over his normal temperature.

Harry breathed weakly, his skin pale and covered in thick sweat, but he was shaking
violently, his teeth chattering. "I'm fine." He said his nose and voice were stuffy.

Hermione clenched her jaw, knowing she shouldn't, but she couldn't leave him like this.
Pucey was gone for the evening. Something to do with a Death Eater gala that he had no
choice but to attend. He wouldn't be available if something were to happen at this time of
night, but she couldn't stand to see Harry growing worse.

If he died, she would never forgive herself.

"I'm going to the market; I can't stand this. You need medicine."

"Hermione, it's dark out; don't leave." He snatched her wrist as she got up. "Don't go; I won't
get to you if something happens." He coughed.

"Harry," she hushed, brushing his damp hair from his forehead. "You need something. You
have the flu. And you need something to help get rid of it quicker."

He smiled weakly at her, heavy-lidded as he curled in on himself trying to keep warm as his
teeth chattered. "I've had it before." He mumbled.

"Yes, when you were safe in your bed and in a cleaner environment. I can get you muggle
medication and sanitising items to help ease it off. It's the best that I can do. Please, I can't
watch you get any worse. You've stopped eating."

"It's normal," he said in stuttered breaths. "Lose my appetite every time."

"I'm going. Pan will come with me. He'll protect me, I promise." She promised, brushing
back his hair as though she were his mother as she tried to warm him up.

The fever kept breaking through her warming charms, and she was all out of medical potions.
Pucey had sent them food almost a week ago, and Harry hadn't touched a bite for three days.
She had put it down to stress, but Harry had collapsed on her this morning, convincing her it
was just the common cold from the winter solstice outside. But Pucey had mentioned last
night he would be unavailable all day, without being able to bring her anything she required.

She had no choice.

Harry needed medical supplies, and the only way was to sneak into Manchester city to find a
small corner shop to get the flu medications he needed to fight it off. The flu was the worst;
she remembered when she had it once; it had knocked her for six, and she couldn't get out of
bed for three days.

They didn't need this now. Harry needed his strength.

"P-promise?" He shivered, his lips almost turning blue.

"I'll be ten minutes. I swear." She kissed his cheek as she quickly grabbed her coat, wand, and
gloves, and Pan flew on her shoulder in the shape of a fully grown raven as she cast another
warming charm over Harry.

Hermione apparated straight there, stupidly forgetting her charms to keep herself hidden.

~♡~

Manchester-
Hermione used the last of her money to pay for some flu remedies, sanitiser, a cooling
compression to break his fever, and a bottle of orange juice to get some vitamins in him. Pan
hid inside of her hood in the shape of a mouse as she paid the clerk, then headed out,
forgetting her hood, and made her way back to the apparition point a few streets away.

As they walked and Pan poked his head out, she felt something was off and halted in her
tracks as she got the sense that she was being followed.

Hermione kept on walking as Pan, ever the helper, watched her back, peeking out between
her hair.

"Go left, Hermione; they're following us." He whispered.

Hermione's heart jumped, and she kept her back to them as she took a left and hurried her
steps, hoping to outwalk them. "How many?" She whispered back.

"Eight."

Hermione gulped. Fuck, too many for her to take out at once. "What did Pucey say if there
were more than three and we were alone?" She whispered lowly.

"To run and not to stop. You're not there yet to take out eight on your own. He still needs to
train you for that. I can't transfigure in front of muggles. Try and find somewhere away from
them where I can transform to get them to back off."

"Right, of course. I forgot he wanted to use mannequins when he comes back. Okay." She
took a deep breath, picking up the pace. "Are they still following us?"

"Run."

"What?"

"Hermione, run! They're catching up."

Hermione broke into a run and turned the corner, fast sprinting through the streets of
Manchester. She heard them trailing after her, shouting protests, their footsteps heavy and
thundering against the pavement.

She ran for a good five minutes. Pan kept her in check when she came to the back of a
restaurant and hid behind some bins, clamping her hand over her mouth to stifle her panting
breaths as Pan quickly transformed into a bobcat.

She waited as some footsteps down the far alley ran past and was about to escape down the
other when four men came around the corner. The same she had seen that night, Pucey had
hidden her away from with one extra.

"All right, split up; they both can't be far." One of them said cruelly and hungrily.

"Spread out and search all the buildings." Hermione ducked as they shone their Lumos in her
direction.
"Snatchers." Pan whispered to her, and she nodded, watching their movements closely.

"She's got to be here somewhere. Come out, mudblood. Come out, come out and play; we
won't hurt you. We just want to play with you, beautiful." One of them sniggered, and
Hermione felt like she wanted to throw up at the disgusting way his words made her feel.

Hermione held her breath as they disappeared down to where she had entered and vanished
around the corner, their footsteps receding.

When she felt it was safe enough, she got up and slipped through a narrowed alleyway,
leading out to a late-night market, and kept her head down, pulling her hood over her head,
not too far now from the apparition point three more streets away.

As she pretended to look at the stalls of street food, she felt like she was being followed again
and turned her head over her shoulder, catching five Snatchers heading her way with crazed
eyes locked on her as their prey.

Hermione started running, but no sooner had she started than she skidded to a halt as five
more appeared out of nowhere in front of her around the next corner. Ten!

Too many.

Hermione's chest heaved. Nowhere to run, nowhere to go. Trapped by all ten of them, slowly
closing in on her.

"Get her!"

"Hermione, quick!" Pan scratched at a door, and she kicked it down off its hinges with a hard
kick of her foot and ran through it down into a strange abandoned factory.

"Pan!" Hermione panted as she ran down some stairs as fast as she could, them right on her
tail shouting and firing curses at her.

"Hurry, Hermione!"

Hermione begged her legs to run for her life just as she made to run through a boiler room
when she was taken down by a whip, swiping her off her feet. She screamed as she landed on
her front as they all appeared. She aimed her wand at them as Pan transformed himself into a
panther, and one of them snatched her wand from her and tried to drag her off whilst she
screamed, punched, and kicked at him anywhere she could.

Pan, on the other hand, was viscous. He was so much faster and had slashed all six of them
by the throat with his large claws, killing them instantly.

"Get off me!" Hermione yelled, kicking the one who had her by the legs right in his nose,
breaking it on impact.

Just as he let go, roaring in pain and clutching at his nose, Pan sunk his teeth into his neck
and ripped his throat out, spitting it and spraying blood across the other side of the room as
he gurgled, eyes bulging, and crumpled to the floor, clawing at his throat.
5 down. 5 left. Hermione elbowed and headbutted the one that had a hold of her from behind
as Pan took out the other 4 trying to hit him with spells.

The man that had her grabbed her by the hair and snarled in her face. "Stupid bitch! I'll have
you for that!"

Hermione spat in his face, wincing at the tight hold that he had on her as Pan roared and
pounced on him with so much force the snatcher let her go as she fell back and smacked the
back of her head against the concrete floor.

She winced, her vision blurring as she felt blood pooling between her fingers as she touched
the back of her head and searched for her wand amongst the blood, organs, and limbs
sprawled around. She heard an animal-like whimper, a painful whimper, as she found it in
one of their pockets and shook her head as she heard a neck bone break, and then suddenly it
went eerily quiet.

Hermione quickly turned around on shaking legs and found Pan lying very still on top of the
last remaining Snatcher. The sides of his stomach were panting fast as though he were in
pain, and she quickly pushed back the dizziness as she got down to his side and found his
eyes shut, weak and limp.

"Pan?" She whispered, pushing him off to get him away from the vile man. "Pan?" She
choked when he didn't open his eyes, cradling his head in her lap, his pink tongue flopping
out between his sharp, blood-stained teeth.

Hermione's vision blurred with tears as she took a closer look and lifted his paw, and her
breath caught in her chest when she saw a dagger impaled right into his heart.

"No, please," she sobbed as she watched him taking his final quiet breath in her arms. Gone.
"No, please don't leave me." She bent over and sobbed into his neck, which soon turned into
heartbroken sobs right into his soft black velvet fur. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Don't leave me
too. Everyone always leaves." She confessed, heartbroken, that she had lost someone else
again.

Hermione stayed there for a long time, rocking back and forth with him limp in her arms as
she screamed muffled sobs into his fur until she found the courage to leave, struggling to
breathe, and apparated them both straight back to Harry.

~♡~

Draco-

Draco clumsily apparated straight to Granger after finally having the chance to leave and
come to her aid after suffering for the worst hour being watched by Voldemort whilst he
sensed that she needed him. Her heart thrashing against his finger the entire time in fear.
Every time he'd tried to make a break for it, the Daily Prophet was in his face, his mother and
father kept chewing him out trying to work out what he was up to, or the Death Eaters kept
blocking his exit.

He'd quickly gotten changed and come straight here, hoping he wasn't too late. He winced as
he landed on his ankle wrong and sensed she was back safe in the wards, but he needed to be
sure that she wasn't hurt and rushed through.

Only when he did he skidded to a halt when he found her with her knees drawn up to her
chest, arms wrapped around her legs, stained tears on her face washing off the blood that was
smeared on her cheeks. Her hair covered in it, her hands drenched in it as a dagger lay beside
her on the floor by the fire, that too dripping in blood.

Draco was in front of her in an instant, taking her face in his hands, and noticed a dead, far-
away look in her honey eyes.

"Granger? Granger, are you all right?"

She didn't answer, just stared right through him. Eyes bloodshot, sniffling every two seconds.

"Granger, talk to me. What happened? I'm sorry I couldn't get there." He said softly but
sternly, squeezing her face lightly, hoping that she would come back to him.

Nothing again. She didn't even blink even as a shaky exhale breezed through her lips.

"Come back to me," he whispered, brushing his thumbs against her cheekbones. "Are you
hurt?"

Granger shook her head, slowly blinking once as her wet lashes bashed her cheekbones.

"Did someone touch you?" He clenched his jaw, pulsing it as he narrowed his eyes.

Granger's brows twitched together as she shook her head, then nodded, then shook it again as
though she didn't know the answer herself.

Draco realised as he studied her that she seemed to be in a state of shock. Covered in blood
that he couldn't tell if it was her own or someone else's, she may have killed off to get free.

"Pans dead." She croaked, though so quietly he wasn't sure if he heard her correctly.

"What?" He whispered, trying to meet her eyes, but she wouldn't even look at him. Her gaze
was focused more on his chest than on his mask.

"Dead. Pan. He's dead." Granger lifted her eyes over his shoulder, swelling with tears as her
jaw trembled, and she focused on his chest again, a choked sob threatening to break from
her.

Draco turned around to see what she was talking about, and he felt his face fall as he saw Pan
wrapped up in a plaid blanket, with his paw sticking out drenched in blood. He sighed
through his nose, guilty that he couldn't prevent this from happening, and turned back to
Granger, placing two fingers under her chin to meet his gaze. "It's not your fault. He did his
duty. Right?"

Granger nodded, one tear trickling down her face, and clung to the edge of her jaw. Draco
pushed her back to get her to rest up against the tree as he brushed his knuckles against the
side of her face for a moment, then stood up and walked over to Pan to investigate.

A stab wound right through his chest impaling his heart.

Ah, the dagger made sense. That's where it had come from.

Draco sat on his knees as he stroked Pan along his belly down to the tip of his long tail,
swallowing thickly at another lost soul in this war.

His cold black heart clenched. He'd practically hatched him, nursed him when he was a baby
until he was ready to keep her safe and company when he wasn't around. They'd grown close,
practically a father figure to him in some way, as Pan had imprinted on him before meeting
Granger.

Now that plan was gone, fucking the one thing he couldn't seem to get around to making him
immortal. Maybe in time he could redo it and bring him back.

Perhaps Theo could help whilst Draco would be gone now that he knew everything despite
Draco's annoyance and was quite a genius with potions and science.

Draco silently covered Pan back up, keeping him warm as he conjured a deep hole in the
ground and buried Pan comfortably. He placed the earthy soil over him, covering him
completely, and patted it down and produced a stone inscribed with his name to keep him
remembered.

When Draco stood and turned back around to face Granger, she hadn't moved, but she had
watched him bury her, still silently crying in the same position.

His heart clenched as he walked back over to her and sat down beside her without hesitating
and brought her head down to his lap, stroking her hair out of her face as she sucked in a
shaky breath, wrapping her arm around his legs, burying her face into his thigh, sobbing with
heartbreak and grief.

"I'll bring him back for you, Granger." He whispered as he scourged her skin and hair of Pan's
blood. "I promise. I'll bring him back." He looked down at her, tucking her curls behind her
ear; she nodded but didn't say anything.

He stayed with her until she fell asleep and then carried her back inside and placed her into
her cot, draping her blanket over her. Draco briefly removed his mask from his face, knowing
it was safe to do so as he watched her sleep, crouching at her side. Her cheeks blotchy, the tip
of her nose red from the crying, and her eyes slightly puffy.

Worn out, grieving, and exhausted.

 He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, holding his lips against her warm skin as he
closed his eyes briefly and cradled the back of her head, holding her close to him.

"I don't want to leave you alone, but I have no choice," he murmured against her skin,
inhaling her scent as he pulled away. "I'll come back as soon as I can. I promise."

Granger's brows twitched in her sleep, shifting as she slept as he removed his lips from her
face.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He sighed heavily as he carded his fingers through his hair and
slipped his mask back on, tracing her lips softly with his thumb one last time. A deep sense of
regret and longing avoided touching her intimately or kissing her after 2 months when he so
desperately wanted to feel her lips against his again.

But he couldn't fall too deep. He was here to protect her, not get distracted and go off course.

No matter how badly he fucking wanted to.

Then he left, back to his manor, dreading his trip to Australia in two days, knowing now she
was unprotected and so little time to create Pan again to keep an eye on her for him.

Unless he could get Theo to watch her in his place for him as a second guardian.

Maybe.

Something he needed to think about in the next 48 hours.

He felt jealous at the thought of Theo spending time with her whilst he'd be gone for 4 weeks.

Fucking frustrating.

Chapter End Notes

I know, I know I'm sorry about Pan but I did warn you that it was impossible to avoid.

She's catching on though 🤭 sort of.

🫶🫶
Will reply to you when I get the chance, hope you enjoyed and excited to see what you
have to say on this chapter
 Chapter 9
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The next day at Hogwarts-

"Did Draco tell you that he's off to Australia for four weeks?" Blaise asked Theo as they
walked back to their house together, wary of the Carrows skulking about.

Hogwarts was different. Darker, colder, and uninviting. Honestly, Theo and Blaise, even
Pansy, were tempted to make a run for it and go into hiding; it was too much. All three of
them and most of the seventh-year Slytherins had been forced to produce a Crucio or more
illegal curses against the first years as practice in DADA. Theo threw up violently the first
time he had to do it. Blaise didn't speak for a week, and Pansy had closed in on herself ever
since and was occluding more than ever.

How in Salazar's name Draco managed to practice the Cruciatus curse at home was beyond
them. Well, technically not eleven-year-olds; he was doing it on adults, but that didn't mean
that it wasn't any less pleasant.

Theo, Blaise, and Pansy were the main targets to do it now because of their fathers being
Death Eaters in the war. Beside Blaise since he didn't have a clue where his father was since a
young age, but he was targeted because of their social group and, more importantly, being
close friends with Draco.

Crabbe and Goyle occasionally, but not as often.

Now all of them occluded heavily during the sessions to make it easier. None of the first
years dared to go near them, and they all felt so guilty that they were afraid of them. The
Carrows had said that because they were Slytherins, it was what was to be expected of them.
To fight against the light side.

War.

Wretched and cruel.

"Mhm," Theo grumpily hummed, hands buried in his pockets, head hanging low.

"Miss him," Blaise said.

"Yep, me too. I'd say he's better off not coming back, but I don't think that's true." Sort of, he
knew Draco was seeing Granger, and as hard as it had been, Theo hadn't told anyone what
Draco was truly doing. He knew the consequences if word was to get out, and he'd rather not
lose his best friend over it.

Blaise started walking ahead, massaging his temples as they walked by some shadowy
alcoves. "We need to find a way to get out of here. There has to be an escape hatch
somewhere that's not covered by wards." He thought deeply, narrowing his eyes ahead of
him.

"That's—" Theo was cut off as a hand shot out of nowhere, clamped over his mouth, and
dragged him into the alcove as he squealed like a girl, his spine connecting with a wall
harshly as he was pushed up against it into the darkness away from Blaise.

"I mean, there has to be a secret passage that the professors don't know about, right?" Blaise
received silence behind him, and suddenly he could only hear his own footsteps. "Theo?" He
called, confused, furrowing his brows. "Theo?"

Nothing.

He stopped, arching his brow, and turned around and found Theo had just vanished into thin
air. "Theo?" Blaise kept turning around in circles looking like an idiot looking for him to see
where he went. "Hello? What the fuck?"

His head spun as he put his hands on his hips, trying to work out where the little shitbag had
disappeared to out of thin air.

"Talk to myself then, shall I?" Blaise glared at the empty corridor, turning on his heel in a
grouchier mood than usual, and strutted off back to Slytherin House without Theo. "Bloody
tosser." He mumbled.

Theo smacked the hand off his mouth and glared into the darkness at his kidnapper. "What
are you playing at?! Don't do that, tosspot!" He hissed under his breath.

"Shut up whining!" Draco clapped him upside the head, stepping in front of the light, causing
a shadow over his sharp face and blonde hair.

"Ow!" Theo whined, rubbing the back of his head. "What do you want? More importantly,
what the fuck are you doing here, and how did you get in here?"

"Uh, I'm a Death Eater. I pretty much have access to anywhere and anytime that I want." He
chuckled, as though it was pretty obvious.

"Ah," he gave him a crooked grin. "You used the cabinet, didn't you?"

"Actually, this one here has been destroyed once again. It's no use anymore; not sure when
that happened, but there's a secret passageway from Hogsmeade to the Room of
Requirements." Draco caught the moment he had piqued Theo's interest. "Want to get out of
here? I've heard what's been going on and what they're making you all do in Slytherin." His
face morphed into agitation.

"You'd get me out?" He started to smile as Draco nodded, then he dropped it. "What about
Blaise? Pansy? Draco, they're miserable. The things they're making us do--"

"I can help you, I promise. All of you, but I need you to do something for me."
Theo scoffed at him as he braced his foot up behind him against the wall. "Of course there's a
fucking bargain when it comes to you." He folded his arms across his chest. "What is it?
What do you want?"

"Two things actually," Draco held up two fingers, smirking at him. Theo's eyes rolled. "One,
you can stay in my room at my manor until I return and look after the beast to avoid mother
catching him."

"Euugh," Theo grimaced, groaning like a toddler, his shoulders curling in on themselves.
"Seriously? That evil thing Granger likes to call a pet?"

Draco nodded at him, tutting as he did so, but sort of understood where Theo was coming
from. "And two," he took a deep breath. "I need you to...to--," he struggled as his eye
twitched in irritation. "Watch Granger for me whilst I'm gone."

Theo's brows pinched together, rolling his lips as he took his sweet time to answer. "I'm
sorry? You want me to what with who?"

"Watch, Granger for me. You know, keep an eye on her." He whispered, checking over his
shoulder to make sure that no one was heading their way.

"Why? Didn't you create some bloody body-transforming pet to do that for you when you
can't?"

"Pan, yes, but he got killed last night during an attack on Granger." He said through clenched
teeth.

"Oh," Theo's stomach turned to ice. "How? I thought he was immortal?"

Draco's head shook, his hair falling into his eyes. "I wasn't successful. I was at the gala and
couldn't escape. Granger was chased down by ten snatchers. They killed Pan as one of them
grabbed her."

"I'm sorry, man." He said sincerely as Draco just shrugged. It was war; death was more than
natural these days. "So, she's okay?"

"She's fine, not about Pan, but I can't leave her alone. They're fucking everywhere, and she
has this tendency to not listen to a damn word that I say." He held his hands out in front of
him, strangling the air as though he was picturing throttling her neck.

Theo snorted but covered it up with a cough as Draco shot him a glare over his hands. He
cleared his throat, trying so hard not to grin but was failing.

"Can you just go there for me? Every other night, in disguise, of course. Make sure she
doesn't leave the bloody wards after nightfall. That's all I'm asking." Draco asked as he
dropped his hands to his sides. "I can still watch her through the mirror, just not as often as I
want to. I can make it available to you in my room, please. I'm begging you."

Theo folded his arms across his chest, tapping his foot against the wall. "You're a right perv,
you know that? I hope you're not watching her change."
Draco's expression turned frustrated. "Of course not--" he backtracked, thinking about it.
"Well, once, but that was a complete accident! I'm careful; I'm not doing this to be a creep--"

"It's creepy, Draco."

"--I'm doing it to keep her safe--"

"It's still creepy."

"--If anyone is a pervert, it's you!" Draco ground out harshly as he pointed at him, his face
growing redder by the second.

Theo agreed, wiggling his brows. "Yeah, I'm not going to deny that." He chuckled proudly.

"So? Will you or not? She doesn't know about the mirror, crooks, or her house yet. I'd like to
keep it that way."

"What's in it for me? Isn't she moving up and down the country like a bludger? How am I
supposed to know where she is?"

"Safety." Draco offered. "A safe house. Or," he tilted his head to the side in deep thought. "I
can let you, Blaise, and Pansy into Granger's home. It's completely blood warded by me, and
it's big enough. She won't be there any time soon. You'll be safe, and to anyone else, it just
looks like an empty field between two houses."

"Sounds convincing." Theo scratched his chin, arching one brow. "But you do realise that
you're going to have to tell the others, don't you?" His brows rose skyward.

"What?"

"The truth about Granger, you dickhead." He shook his head sarcastically, scoffing. "They all
know she lives in Hampstead. Everyone does; it won't be hard to put the pieces together on
where we will be and why we would be there in the first place."

Draco hadn't considered that. Hm, maybe Granger wouldn't want a bunch of snakes crawling
about her precious home. Give her another reason to distrust him further.

"Scratch her home then."

"No, do it."

"Why?"

"Because if you take her there at some point and we're all there and Merlin forbid she falls
out with Potter and Weasley. But we will all be there; I know we're snakes, but...I can't see it
ending terribly if we're there. She'll need more support instead of just you, because I hate to
break it to you, but she's not going to be thrilled that you've lied to her for months." He said
softly but a bit harshly at the same time.

"I've made it worse."

"Why?" Theo's nose scrunched up.

Draco heaved a heavy sigh, slumping his shoulders. "She took a jab at me two months ago
and tried to see if I would react to her calling me Malfoy. I didn't; I'm smarter than that, but I
told her I was someone else."

"Who?" Theo's brows furrowed.

"It doesn't matter who. I just know I've made it worse, because she looked kind of
disappointed that I didn't admit that it's truly me." He took a deep breath too. "Plus, I kissed
her." He grumbled.

Theo's eyes blew wide as he blinked at him three times. "You've kissed?!" He almost
screamed and soon closed his mouth as Draco shot him a warning look. "You kissed?" He
dropped his voice low as Draco nodded. "Wait? How? If you're wearing that stupid bloody
mask, then how?" He cocked his head to the side, trying to work it all out for himself.

"I charmed it to show only my lips." He sighed heavily, losing his patience with all these
bloody questions. "We kissed, and it was really good. But I can't get lost in that. Neither can
she; she'll lose focus. But I can help you locate her; I have a galleon that we can
communicate on, and I can tell you where she is. How does that sound?"

"All right," Theo shrugged, grinning at him. "So, what are you going to do about the others?"

"I need to think of something. I can't let you all into her house; she won't like that. If Granger
hates me further, then so be it; I can deal with and handle her. For now you can stay at the
manor; Mother and Father barely go to my room. You stay in there; you don't leave unless it's
to Granger, and that's that. Topsy will bring you food. Then, when I come back, I can find a
safe house for all of you."

Theo nodded, agreeing with the plan, though he was slightly nervous about it; he couldn't
deny that, but he was glad to be free of the Carrows. "So are you going to tell them the
truth?"

"No. No, no one can know about, Granger. It's too risky. Just leave a note; don't tell anyone
the full truth, make up an excuse for your sudden departure, and tell them I will come get
them when I return. And meet me in the Room of Requirements at lights out. I'll take you
back to Malfoy Manor tonight."

Theo nodded, rolling his shoulders. "All right."

~♡~

later-
Theo waited until Blaise was asleep, twiddling his thumbs on the edge of his bed, double-
checking that he was completely out. He felt bad for leaving Blaise and the others behind to
suffer a further four weeks of this, but this was important.

And Draco was desperate. What else was he supposed to do? And it wasn't as though Draco
wasn't coming back to help them either; it was just a few more weeks. Once he was satisfied
that Blaise was out for the evening, he scribbled down a quick note, apologising for his
departure, but it was upon his father's request. He briefly jotted down that he'd be hearing
from Draco around Christmas.

He folded it up and placed it down on Blaise's bedside table, sighing guiltily for leaving him
behind.

Theo felt bad, but he was relieved that he was leaving and never coming back until this was
over.

"I'm sorry, mate." He whispered, shrinking his trunk down to fit inside his pocket. "Draco
will come back for you and Pansy. I promise."

He placed a disillusionment charm over himself, looked at Blaise one last time, then slipped
out, being quiet as he left the Slytherin Common Room and made his way to the Room of
Requirements. Draco waited outside, double-checking the coast was clear, and when Theo
revealed himself, he commanded it to open, and they slipped inside to head to the secret
passage behind an old painting.

"Doing all right?" Draco asked, catching the grim expression across his best friend's face as
they walked down a narrow, dripping passage too small for the pair of them.

"I feel bad for leaving Blaise behind. He's miserable."

"Theo," Draco sighed, turning the corner and carrying on walking. "I'd get you all out of here
tonight at once if I could. But there's not enough room at the Manor—well, there is. But it's
safer with just you at the moment on such short notice. I promise when I return I'll set up a
safe house for all three of you."

"I hate this." Theo clenched his teeth, stomping his feet more than usual right behind Draco.
"We're supposed to be enjoying our final year. Not scared out of our wits. It's not fair,
sneaking around, hiding. Don't do this; don't do that. Wish Potter would hurry up and do what
he was born to do."

"It's more complicated than that." Draco sighed, coming to a ladder, and punched the drain
cover open and climbed up it. Theo followed, leaving them standing just outside Hogsmeade.
"It's not as simple as we presumed."

"Why?" Theo brushed at his hands to get the muck off.

"There's certain things that I can't tell you. Just trust me, there's more to this than we ever
thought, and it's not pretty either." Draco said sternly, holding his elbow out to Theo to get
ready to apparate.
Theo grabbed his elbow, curious, but judging by the serious expression across Draco's face,
he thought better than to ask any more questions. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to know,
actually. With a confident nod at one another, Draco apparated them away from Hogwarts
straight back to his room at Malfoy Manor.

Crookshanks hissed at Theo as soon as they landed, his hackles going up, and Theo stuck his
middle finger up at him, glaring at the beast. Crooks went to swipe at his leg as Theo jumped
back out of the way.

"Knock it off!" Draco snapped his fingers at him. "Be nice. He's here on business and to keep
an eye on you. No scratching or biting. Got it?"

Crookshanks mewled, huffing in a strop as he curled himself in the chaise and rested his chin
against his paws.

"Vile thing." Theo mumbled under his breath, turning his nose up at the beast. "Though I can
see who's asserted dominance out of the pair of you." Draco arched one brow at him. "The
beast has ruined your life." He grinned lopsidedly, leaning his arm on Draco's shoulder.

Draco smacked his hand off as he called Topsy to come and started stripping down to change
into his robes.

"Yes, Master, Draco? How can Topsy be of service—oh Master Nott! So good to see you
again!" She blushed, her ears tinging a bright pink, rocking from side to side, going shy
around his presence.

Theo, ever the incorrigible flirt no matter the pulse, half bowed as he took Topsy's hand in
his, brushing his lips against her knuckles. "Topsy, pleasure to see you again, darling." He
winked at her, a flirtatious smirk on his face.

Topsy giggled as he let her hand go. "Topsy likes Master Nott."

Draco rolled his eyes, cringing as Theo leaned up casually against the bar, smouldering at her.
"This is the type of shit you're not permitted to do around, you know who." He clicked his
fingers at Theo, his eye once again twitching.

Theo looked offended, pulling a face as he held his arms out in confusion. "Eh?"

"No flirting. Kissing knuckles or using that tone of voice that makes my arse clench. And no
smouldering." He added as Theo went to protest. "Don't flirt or touch. Because I'll know." He
gritted through his teeth. That annoying jealousy bubbling to the surface at the mere thought
of Theo touching Granger or doing what he always does with his bloody house elf.

Gross and weird.

"Fine." Theo grumbled, moving his lips in a silent, stroppy mock. "You're no fun these
days."

"Master, Draco likes a lady." Topsy wiggled her ears up at her master.
"No, I do not." He levelled an agitated glare on her.

"Yeah, he does." Theo winked at him, trying so hard not to piss him off.

Theo was failing.

"Piss off, Nott. Topsy, I need you to bring food to Theo three times a day. To the beast as
well, as we already agreed, do not tell Mother and Father or anyone else that comes by that
he's here. All right?"

"Yes, Master Draco. Topsy can do that." She said honestly.

"It's only until I come back from my mission. When are Mother and Father leaving for their
approved trip?" Draco asked her, throwing on his Death Eater robes, and grabbed his gloves,
ready to go say goodbye to Granger.

"Tomorrow morning, sir. Lady and Lord shall return Sunday evening."

"Perfect, Topsy. Secret remember, you may go." He turned his attention to Theo as Topsy
popped away from the room. "Mother and father have been approved for a small weekend
trip at our chalet in France whilst the Dark Lord is off searching for something. Bellatrix is
going back to Lestrange Manor whilst they're gone. You can leave the room during the
weekend, but after that you'll have to stay in here until I come back."

"All right," he nodded, eyeing his robes as Draco grabbed his mask from his desk. "Are you
going to see her?"

"Yes," Draco sighed. "I'll probably be gone all night. I have to say goodbye. But I'll be back
before dawn." He said as he placed his mask over his face and placed the voice alteration
charms to hide it. "Room is warded too. We'll talk more tomorrow."

Theo snorted at him, eyeing him up and down in amusement. "You sound like a robot."

"A what?" Draco cocked his head to the side in heavy confusion. What the fuck was a robot?

"Never mind. I'll see you later."

~♡~

Granger-

"Feet apart," Draco kicked her ankles apart wider gently as he stood behind her. She did as he
said. "Wand straight." He curled his hand around her elbow, helping her aim, whilst his other
settled on her hipbone. "Now what do you do?" He whispered beside her ear.

"Stupefy!" She circled her wrist and blew apart the Death Eater mannequin he had
transfigured out of nowhere into thousands of angry pieces.
"Merlin," Draco was slightly taken aback at how angry that spell seemed to be. "Yeah, just
like that."

Granger sighed angrily, pulling herself out of his arms, shaking him off as she went off to fix
it for the sixth time since he had arrived. He watched her, brows furrowed as he folded his
arms across his chest and felt her heart rate pounding angrily against his finger.

"Are you wearing that locket again?"

"No." She responded dryly, kicking at a piece of wood in her way.

Jump. Lie.

"Hm," he hummed, having the sense that something else besides Pan's death was bothering
her. "Do you not recall that I can sense when you're lying to me?" She shrugged her shoulders
without turning back to him, picking up a twig and tossing it angrily into the darkened parts
of the forest. "Granger, what's the matter?"

"You."

He blinked at her back in confusion. What? Was she pissed at him? What the fuck did he do?

"Me?" He laughed sarcastically at her back. "What the fuck did I do to you?"

Granger turned around, and her face was furious when they made eye contact. Eyes dark, hair
practically sparking with magic. "You're messing with my head. That's what!"

Draco blanched at her, grinding his jaw to keep himself calm. "And how exactly am I doing
that? Enlighten me, Granger. Please." He snarled.

She took a moment to gather her thoughts, hands wringing together as though she was
fighting back saying something else to him. "Don't you feel the same way?" She whispered
instead, as he half expected her to yell at him.

"Way?" He scoffed at her, slotting his wand back into his holster. "What way?"

Granger's face immediately fell. A mixture of emotions crossed her features. Anger, hurt,
confusion, perhaps even rage. Honestly, he couldn't tell with that damn locket on her neck
doing the work for her.

"Guess that kiss meant more to me than it did to you." She said under her breath as she turned
away from him.

"Hey, it meant a great deal!" He shot back, glaring at her back.

"Then why won't you do it again?!" She turned back around, tears in her eyes now. "I won't
see you again after tonight, and Merlin knows if you'll ever come back and--you said you
weren't here for a dalliance. To do a job for Malfoy, but you kissed me back! You hold me
and protect me--"
"That's my job! I said to you, I'm here to work; that is all!"

"But you keep treating me as though you care about me! One minute you're touching me as
though I'm the most precious thing to you, and then the next you're keeping at a safe
distance!"

"I care about you, Granger; otherwise, I would not be here!"

"But not in the way I thought—want you to!" She broke off, her chest heaving violently as
she took a deep breath, trying so hard to stop herself from crying. "I didn't want to train
tonight. I wanted to just read like we used to before you go and maybe...maybe one last kiss
just in case I never see you again."

"No," he shook his head harshly, gnashing his teeth together. "No more kissing. We cannot
get distracted."

"I'm already distracted because I'm falling for you!" Granger's voice broke off in a hoarse and
ragged exhale, and Draco could've sworn he felt the moment that his heart stopped beating as
they stared at each other. "I'm falling for you, and I can't help it." She slapped her palms to
her sides. "I don't want you to leave and then...then...you could maybe die whilst you're gone.
I'm not going to know."

"I'm not going to die--"

"You don't know that," she ground out harshly, and bitterly, her eyes turning red from the
tears. "No one knows what's going to happen. Just...kiss me before you go. Please."

"No, Granger." He shook his head, cracking his neck. "It shouldn't have happened. This
wasn't supposed to happen." Fuck, what was he thinking?

Now she thinks she's falling for fucking Adrian Pucey.

What a right old fucking cock-up on his part for saying that revolting name. He should've
kept his mouth shut about it. At least he knew he didn't have to worry about Theo so much,
but that didn't make him feel any better. Theo was right; he should've told her the truth
months ago, and now it appears that moment has passed.

Fucking brilliant.

How was he going to get out of that one?

"So it was a mistake?" She scoffed at him angrily searching the holes of his mask.

"Yes!" He said it without thinking and immediately regretted it as she flinched and her jaw
set. Hurt swirling in her chocolate eyes. "Granger, i didn't--" he tried, but words failed him as
she turned, shaking her head in disappointment, and started heading back towards her tent.
"Granger, come back here!"

"Leave me alone and don't bother coming back! Screw you and your protection; I don't need
you!" She shouted over her shoulder, disappearing through the trees.
Draco faltered, debating about leaving her there and the other part wanting to go after her. He
hesitated, getting his wand out to go back to Malfoy Manor, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't
go back and leave it like this for another 4 week's.

He growled at the back of his throat, shoving his wand back into his holster so hard, it almost
snapped in half. Fuck her; she always made him so angry and managed to get his blood
boiling.

"Fuck it." He snarled losing his sanity and chased after her, almost running when he found
her close back to her wards. "Granger!"

"Go away!"

Draco caught up to her, grabbed her by the wrist, turned her around, and quickly banished the
lower half of his mask and crashed his lips to hers, stopping her from leaving. She gasped in
surprise, and he took that moment to slip his tongue between her parted lips as he hooked his
hands around her thighs, lifting her up. Granger's legs clamped around his waist as he pushed
her up against the tree, and her arms flew around his neck while he pressed his body into
hers.

The kiss was messy, dirty, and erotic all at once. More or less desperate. He let go of one of
her thighs to curl his fingers around her jaw, to angle her head the way he wanted as she
made a noise that shot heat right down to his groin. He tried; he really did, but the blood had
other decisions in that area, and he genuinely couldn't help it.

Granger didn't seem to mind, as she rolled her hips against him, and he moaned into her
mouth, taking all he could get from this kiss to make it last. That's all it was, a kiss; it wasn't
going to go any further.

Not here. Not like this.

Granger seemed to have other ideas as she tried to find a way to undress him, and he grabbed
both of her wrists in one hand and pinned them against her stomach as he slowed it down,
savouring her taste. Her lips, her smile, her soft, beautiful sounds growing breathless.

Finally he pulled away and slumped his masked forehead against hers, panting as she panted
back, her breath brushing against his swollen lips.

"You're not really Pucey, are you?" She asked between heavy pants.

Draco shook his head against hers. "No, I'm not. I want to tell you, I really do. I'm just not
ready, Granger." He said in a low voice, though it came out more pained than he intended it
to be. He closed his eyes in shame, taking a shuddering deep breath in through his nose.

"What are you afraid of? Why is it so bad for you to tell me the truth of who you are?"

Draco exhaled roughly, meeting her warm honey eyes as he let her hands go and placed his
hand under her chin, swiping his thumb against her bottom lip to soothe it down. "It's
complicated. I don't deserve you."
"Maybe you do; you don't know." She whispered, a small smile curving her lips.

"I don't," he shook his head gently, meeting her eyes, and then his brows furrowed. "How did
you figure out that I wasn't him?"

A smirk crept up onto her face, causing a dimple he found adorable on her left cheek as she
bit down on her bottom lip. "I saw the jealousy in your eyes when I said that I was falling for
you—well, I guess it looked like I meant Pucey—but really you. All you. I don't know what
you've done to me."

"It wasn't exactly on my list, Granger."

"So, what did that kiss mean this time?" She asked cautiously. A hint of nervousness there
too. "Was that a goodbye? Or a shut me up kiss to keep me happy?"

Draco smiled, properly smiled, as he dipped his head beside her ear and gently scraped his
teeth against her earlobe. "It's never goodbye. Never." He whispered, softly pressing a
sweeter kiss to her cheek as she sighed in content. His hand came up to place along her
jawline as he kept his lips pressed to her cheek. "I have a confession to make."

"Mm, what?"

"I'm falling for you too, Granger." Her chest brushed against his as her breath hitched.
"You've dragged me to the bottom of the darkest pit of the ocean you like to call your heart.
You've ruined me. Fucked me into someone I can never go back to." He smirked against her
skin as he felt her pull a face of confusion. "And I'm mildly enjoying it."

Granger laughed, wrapping her arms tighter around him as she buried her face into his
shoulder. "I don't want you to go." She whispered, her voice cracking, sounding on the verge
of crying.

"I don't have a choice. But I'll do more research for you, as much as I can, on the next
Horcrux as we discussed. I promise." He said as he buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her
coconut scent deeply, shutting his eyes.

She nodded against his shoulder, her grip tightening, threatening to strangle him, but he
found he didn't truly care. He'd let her kill him if need be. Warm in her arms. "Be safe. Come
back to me."

"I'll always come back to you, Granger."

~♡~

Malfoy Manor-
Draco rubbed at his tired eyes as he headed back to his room to say goodbye to Theo and
pretty much go in the next couple of hours. After their confession he'd told her that another
friend would be coming by to watch her and train with her whilst he was gone, just in case
she tried to blow up Theo's head on his arrival.

She was slightly reluctant but trusted him and agreed to allow them to go.

"Another spy," to put it that way, as he had said to ease her nerves. Then they'd scrapped
training, read together until they had fallen asleep up against the tree, with her curled up in
his lap, occasionally sharing slow, passionate kisses. He truly was going to miss.

Sure it was four weeks, but during this war it may as well feel like a fucking lifetime. Draco
had woken up before her and carried her back into the tent; he'd already warned her last night
that he might be gone before she woke up, and she didn't fight him on it.

This time she understood.

His parents were already gone; on their way out, as he had arrived, they'd been badgering him
on where he's been going and what he's doing, and as usual, he refused to speak of it. He
didn't want their help; he didn't need his father's help. He didn't trust him.

Narcissa, sure, but never Lucius when it comes to Granger.

As Draco headed back to his room, he heard a cat screaming in pain, a bang, and Theo
yelling something or rather screaming like a madman. And just as Draco got close enough to
see what the fuss was about, his door swung open, and out came Theo just in his boxers,
crashing into Draco in his need to get away.

Draco collided his back into the wall, as Theo slammed into him rubbing the back of his
head, half glaring but staring at Theo half confused as he pretty much began running for his
life down the hallway.

Then, Crookshanks came skidding out, teeth bared, claws sharp, and chased after Theo
galloping after him.

Ah, Theo had upset him and now Crooks was after his blood.

Draco slid down the wall, bursting into hysterical laughter as Theo looked over his shoulder,
wide-eyed and terrified at the beast right on his tail.

Crookshanks was faster, it seemed.

"Draco, control that furball beast before I feed him to Poppleton the Peacock!" Theo yelled at
him like a madman. "Or the snake! She's still here right?!" His voice bounced off the walls as
he ran towards the stairs and disappeared, still screaming like a lunatic. "No! Stop! I'm sorry!
Ahhh, Draco, fucking help me!" He cried from downstairs.

Crookshanks hissed, Theo yelped, yelling apologies for stepping on his tail and then falling
on him by accident.
Draco collapsed on his arse by the wall, clutching his ribs, barely able to breathe through his
laughter. "I doubt even Nagini would go near that beast. Crooks is more lethal than that
poisonous reptile." He wheezed through his laughter, tears in his eyes.

A crash and something shattering, more than likely expensive china that belongs to his
mother, came from downstairs as Theo suddenly went quiet, and for a moment, Draco
thought the Kneazle might have actually taken him out this time.

Could a cat kill a 17-year-old wizard? Who knows, maybe Theo would be the first man to be
killed by a house cat kneazle.

Draco managed to control himself, wiping at his eyes, and suddenly grew concerned for
Theo's welfare when Crookshanks came trotting back upstairs, tail bushy and pointing north.
His chin high, a smile on his cat lips as he strutted past Draco and back into his room, right
onto his pillow on his bed, like the king he was.

"Ow, little fucking, orange twat, furball, mouse breath shitter. I'm going to kill that cat. Mark
my words." Came Theo's grumbling voice as Draco bit back a laugh, catching him walking
back down the hallway looking extremely sorry for himself.

Theo was limping, his torso, neck, arms, legs, and face completely scratched up. Bleeding
everywhere, and his hair a bedridden mess.

"Merlin, did he catch you then?" Draco joked, eyeing him up and down as Theo came back to
his room.

Theo glared at him so hard, Draco thought he might actually split into two halves. "If there's
a cat missing by the time you come back, don't expect me to tell you where I buried Satan in
disguise."

Draco smirked, clapping him on the back, and Theo winced in agony. "Sleep with one eye
open. He watches you when you sleep." He snorted as Theo went green in the face.

"Take him with you and drown him in the ocean. He can sleep with the fishes for all I care."

Crookshanks hissed at his rude remark.

Theo, ever the pureblood and man that he was, hissed back at him. He cowered when
Crookshanks launched himself at him.

"All right, beast." Draco caught him in his arms mid-attack launch. "No more bullying my
mate. I think he's learnt his lesson."

"It was a fucking accident." Theo sneered at the beast.

Draco rolled his eyes, placing Crookshanks on his shoulder as he took him to the bathroom
with him. "I think I'll separate you both before I go."

Theo wasn't sure if he imagined it or not as Draco walked off, but he was pretty sure that he
saw the beast place his paw to his throat and slice across it in a threat as he glared at him over
 Draco's shoulder as they disappeared into the bathroom together.

Theo gulped as the door shut. "Great, I'm going to be murdered in my sleep by a kneazle.
Thanks, Mother. What did I do to deserve this?" He spoke to the heavens as he collapsed
back onto Draco's bed, grabbed a pillow, and screamed into it.

Chapter End Notes

😔
So, from now on updates will be every 2 days now that I'm back at work. Unfortunately
I know but it's life
off.
but I've enjoyed getting the first 9 out for you during my week

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. 🥰

Crookshanks is a little devil 😈
 Chapter 10
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Hermione-

"Almost done," Hermione said, sitting behind Harry and cutting his hair carefully. Poor
Harry, his hair had gone extremely wild and more homeless-looking in the last few weeks
that she couldn't stand it anymore and had to help him.

Harry nodded slowly, concentrating on the snitch in his hands. He couldn't work it out.
Dumbledore had left it to him for a reason, and the more he looked at it, the more he couldn't
see what the intended purpose was to have this in his possession.

He sighed in frustration, setting his jaw as he turned it around in his fingers.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, placing the scissors down to tidy his neck up with her
hands.

"I cannot for the life of me work out what he wanted me to do with it. It means something,
right?"

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip in thought as she brushed the hair clippings off his
shoulders. "Do you remember what I said back at Grimmauld?"

Harry's brows furrowed as he stared at it. "Didn't you say touch it or something?" Hermione
hummed in response. "But I've been touching it, and nothing's happened."

Hermione leaned over his shoulder, resting her chin against him, narrowing her eyes at the
snitch in thought. She had an idea, one that she had been thinking of but wasn't sure if it
would work or not.

"Try touching it to your lips, Harry." She suggested.

"Huh?"

"Just do it."

Harry did as she said and gently placed the front face of the snitch between his parted lips. He
held it there for several seconds; a small tension of awkwardness settled around them for
pretty much kissing a flying golden ball. But when he pulled it away and they both looked at
it, an encrypted message rippled across it.

I open at the close.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked her.

"I don't know," she said. "It opens at the end of the war?" She asked herself more than him.
"I've found something as well. In my book," she reached behind her on the table and grabbed
the beadle, the bard holding it out in front of Harry as she flipped the pages to look for it.
"This symbol." She pointed to it when she found it. "It keeps coming up. But I have no idea
what it means."

"Xenophilius Lovegood had that around his neck at the wedding," Harry said quietly, taking
it from her to have a look. "It means something, but I'm not sure what." Hermione just
nodded. "I've been thinking, and you're probably going to say no. But I think we should go to
Godric's Hollow."

"Why?" She asked slowly, eyeing the side of his face.

"Maybe the sword is there. Perhaps Dumbledore hid it there for me. And I know it sounds
crazy," he said, quickly catching her debating it. "But, you know, it's where I was born, and it
was where my parents died. Why wouldn't he hide it there for me?"

"I...it's dangerous, Harry--"

Harry gave her a desperate puppy dog look, and she gave in, hardly able to deny him a
chance to go to his home and possibly see if his parents had been buried there. She could see
it, deep in his face; that was another reason that he wanted to go. She couldn't deny that of
him. A chance for him to say goodbye to them.

"Okay." She sighed, smiling softly at him, looking at his crooked haircut that she had
accidentally messed up. She scowled at it. "Okay, but we'll go around Christmas time. It
should be quieter then."

"Thank you, Hermione."

~♡~

Theo-

"Okay, check on her. Walk away. Check on her. Walk away," Theo mentally spoke to himself
in the mirror, waiting for Draco's message on the galleon for him to know where she was.
"Check, walk. Check, walk. Don't touch, Theo." He pointed at his reflection, turning his nose
up at Draco's spare Death Eater robes covering every inch of him.

"No touching, remember?" He arched his brow at his own reflection. "No smouldering.
Otherwise we'll be murdered. Uh, huh. He's already told us that. Okay?" He exhaled deeply,
feeling stupid for talking to himself whilst the orange murderer was judging him
excruciatingly behind him.

Theo ignored him, bending his legs like a ballerina because the trousers of the Death Eater
robes were squashing things that were precious to him. How in Salazar's name Draco moved
around in these things was beyond Theo. They were restricting, tight, and uncomfortable.
He was chafing too. Hot and sweaty under all of these thick layers, as well as the mask
covering his face, he was having a hard time breathing under. Did Draco like wearing this?
Seriously? So out of character and unnatural.

The galleon burnt in his pocket, and he took it out to find a message from Draco about her
location. Nightfall was already over them, and he'd double-checked the mirror as Draco had
told him to do, feeling like an absolute pervert, and found her in some forest already outside
looking miserable reading a children's book.

He was kind of nervous to see her, given that she looked to be in a bad mood. But nothing he
couldn't handle.

He hoped.

Swinley Forest—D.M.

"Easy enough," Theo muttered and went to put it back when he messaged him again on the
golden coin.

Remember, I see everything. One finger on her curls, and you'll lose it—D.M.

Theo snorted as the message disappeared. "So fucking possessive. Yet you deny it all the
time." He told the coin, rolling his eyes. "I know you're bluffing, Draco."

The coin burnt again against his gloved palm, and Theo put his hand on his hip, arching one
brow to see what he wanted now.

I never bluff. Touch her and you'll be sorry—D.M.

Theo jumped and whipped his head around the room, eyeing everything in suspicion to see if
the blonde-haired wizard was hiding somewhere and listening to him. But that was
impossible; he'd left five hours ago to meet up with the other Death Eaters being sent with
him on this mission.

Then his eyes landed on the mirror, and he growled in agitation, only able to see his own
reflection. "Seriously? Stalking me too? You're a right weirdo, Draco. Do you know that?"
He sneered at it, hoping Draco was watching him to see him miffed.

You're an incorrigible flirt with anything that has a pulse, and she already thought it was you
months ago. I'm always one step ahead of you. You left me no alternative. Theo- D. M.

Ah, that's why he was glaring at me that day I told him I knew everything. Theo
thought. Makes sense. Insufferable, possessive git.

Theo rolled his eyes at the next message, scowling at the mirror. Then he started grinning at
it. "Oh, she thought it was me? How sweet." He placed his hand on his chest, sniggering,
picturing the look on Draco's face when she told him that. "You jealous little ferret," he
tutted. "Just don't watch me wank. Can you let me do that?"
The galleon took a moment to burn, and when it did, Theo burst out laughing, able to hear the
sarcastic, bossy tone of the coin of his best friend.

Fine. Burn my sheets afterwards. Don't let Crooks watch; you'll give him nightmares and
more of a reason to kill you. —D.M.

Theo snorted, shaking his head. "Teasing, I'll use the bathroom. Can I go now?" He sighed
heavily, growing impatient.

Go. Remember, I'm watching you—D.M.

"Yes, I know you're deluded and a creep. We've established that." Theo muttered to himself
as he placed the galleon in his pocket, grabbed his wand, and took a deep breath, nerves
spiking in his stomach. "The things you do for love. Others ask them out on a date. Not
Draco. Stalks and hides himself because he's a scaredy cat to show her. Yes, I know you're
listening, and no, I do not care." Theo scowled at the mirror. "It's the truth, and I speak it, so
deal with it."

With a huff, he glared at Crookshanks scowling at him; he departed straight to the location
Draco had told him where she was. He landed straight by her and yelped as she jumped up
fast and hurled a hot hex at him out of reflex. He dodged it, ducking in time and shakily
righting himself, eyeing the hole she had blasted through a tree behind him. Sizzling in red,
dripping liquid.

"Merlin, Granger. Relax." He said as he turned back to her, smiling nervously under his mask
as he faced her scared rage.

Hermione kept her wand aimed at him, her chest heaving with adrenaline. Prepared for a
fight. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Oh, come on," Theo put his hands on his hips. "Surely he told you that I was coming.
Right?"

"You're the second spy?" Her brow arched, eyeing him up and down suspiciously in caution.

Theo nodded, his voice hidden under all of the charms upon Draco's demands. "The one and
only." He chuckled, folding his arms across his chest, rocking back and forth on his heels.

Hermione's eyes rounded as her wand slowly dropped to her side, and she took a step
forward, taking a closer look at him. She eyed the green eyes, crinkling at her in amusement
between the slits of the greyish skull mask, completely different compared to her stranger's
mask.

"Nott?" She asked slowly. "Is that you?"

Theo faltered at her question. "Uh, no. Don't be silly, Granger." He snorted incredulously.

"I can hear your voice as clear as day." She accused, narrowing her eyes further.
"Can't! I placed voice-altering charms on me just as my buddy that's been here for you has
been doing."

Hermione smirked, tucking her wand into her pocket, folding her arms across her chest, and
began shaking her head. "Not very well, it appears. I'd know that annoying voice anywhere,
and besides, I can see your hair. You're not very good at this as your friend."

"Oi! My voice is not annoying," Theo scowled at her, patting at the top of his head, and
kicked himself, realising that his hood wasn't up as Draco had told him to do. "Fine, you got
me." He ripped the mask off his face, throwing it to the floor. He was in trouble already; he
could feel it.

"Interesting," Hermione fixed a grin at him. "Theodore Nott. Surprised to see you in my
stranger's place."

"Stranger? Seriously? He hasn't even given you a name for himself?" He snorted. Typical
Draco.

"Well, he said he was Adrian Pucey, but our last interaction made it obvious that it wasn't
Pucey at all," she shrugged, relief sweeping through her as she sat back down and cradled her
book once again.

Theo turned his nose up. "Ew. Pucey? Really? Salazar, couldn't he have picked someone
better?" His stomach rolled at the thought.

Pucey the dickhead? Come on, Draco, you're fucking smarter than that.

Hermione nodded, humming as she did so, turning back to the story of the Three Brothers;
she couldn't stop reading. It was the one story that they constantly read over and over
together. After discovering that the Elder Wand was mentioned, including the Resurrection
Stone and the Cloak of Invisibility, her Death Eater (once again back to the stranger) told her
on their last night that this story must hold certain clues. She was stuck now without him,
trying to work out what it was that he could see that she didn't.

"So?" Hermione looked up at Theo over her page as she thumbed it. "Who is he? I know he's
here for, Malfoy. You're obviously friends with Malfoy. Who's my Death Eater stranger in
disguise, Nott?"

Theo rolled his eyes, dragging his foot back and forth across the twigs and leaves. Fuck it, if
he gets a hex, so be it. "You really want to know who he is? Honestly?"

"Yes," she sighed. "He won't tell me. I tried to test it to see if he was Malfoy. But he denied
that and didn't react to the name, so he's someone in your year group or the year above."

Theo hesitated, having a funny feeling that Draco was listening in to this entire conversation
across the other side of the world. Ah, well, he couldn't strangle him from all the way over
there, and besides, he would be doing him a favour, right? She looked so desperate to know
who he was. Give her time to cool off and accept it in the next month.
By then, she would be fine, and everything would be all right. Draco could stop wearing his
stupid mask around her too. Be himself, and she'd have enough time to forgive him and talk it
out with him when he would return.

"Nott?" Hermione snapped her fingers as he stared off into space. He shook his head,
schooling his features, his jaw rippling. "Please, tell me who he is. I won't tell him I know if
you're worried he'll be upset with you. I...I just need a name. Please." She smiled wistfully,
full of hope.

Theo ran his hand through his curls and gestured to the space beside her. She accepted,
patting the space beside her, so he slumped down, keeping his distance as promised.

"I'm only telling you because I think it's wrong that he's hiding it from you, and whilst I get
it, he's scared and worried you'll run once you know; you deserve to know the truth." He took
a deep breath as she readied herself, holding her own breath. "Your death eater angel is--," he
blinked and cleared his throat. He tried again. "His name is—ow! Motherfucker!" Theo
yelped, shaking his wrist out as a nasty electrical burning shock ran up his arm, to pinch at a
nerve in his neck.

"Are you all right?"

"No!" He hissed in pain, clutching his wrist and ripping off his glove, pulling his sleeve up,
and a golden bangle revealed itself that he hadn't noticed clamped around his wrist. "What
the fuck?"

"What is that?" Hermione asked, catching the way it was producing heat against his skin.

Theo curled his hand into a fist and tried to rip the damn thing off. He pulled it, tugged at it,
smacked it against the ground, and even attempted to blast it off his wrist with his wand, but
to no avail; it wouldn't come off. Draco must've put it on him at some point during Theo's
morning nap and then placed a light disillusionment charm so light that Theo hadn't even
noticed it.

You sly bastard, Draco.

"I have no idea." Theo sighed, grunting at the burns catching the fine hairs on his arm. He
wanted to test something out. "His name is--," before he could even say D, the same electrical
current burnt up his veins; he almost yelled in agony. He panted heavily, his arm twitching
profusely as it eased off. "Sorry, Granger. It looks as though I've been restricted from telling
you. He obviously knew I'd try."

Hermione snatched her book back up from the floor in agitation, turning the pages too hard in
her strop. "Can you tell me the colour of his hair?" She tried, side-eyeing him.

Theo tapped his chin in thought. "Let's see." He cleared his throat, gulping, and squeezed his
eyes shut, terrified. "He has—Ow! Merlin! Fucking, dickhead, I'm going to kill him!" He
gritted through his teeth, shaking his arm to ease it off.
"Never mind then," she slumped her back up against the tree, placing her palm on the side of
her face. "I won't keep asking; it looks painful."

Theo nodded in gratitude and caught the upset, disappointed expression across her features.
"I'm sorry, Granger. I'd tell you if I could; I want you to know, and you deserve to know who
he is."

"Is he Malfoy?" She looked at him; he winced, and she held her hand up. "Try nodding or
shaking your head for the answer. See what happens then." No harm in trying it that way,
right?

Theo went to nod, but instead, out of his own control, his head shook all on its own. He
pulled a frustrated face, strangling the air in front of him, wishing the thick pale throat was
actually between his hands to squeeze him to death.

Draco was smart and thought about it all before he had left this afternoon.

"Guess I was wrong," she said, not catching the way he was strangling the thin air.

"Are you disappointed?" He asked, draping his arms around his knees, giving up murdering
the image of his friend.

Hermione shrugged. "A part of me had hope that he wouldn't be a coward and have someone
else do the work for him. Perhaps he'd have the courage to show me himself that he was
grateful. I guess not." She dragged her foot back and forth against the leaves. "He couldn't
face me. So, one of his friends is doing it for him—I guess now two."

Theo cursed, Draco in his head. This is exactly what he was trying to get through to him. She
was starting to despise Draco because he wouldn't show his own face to prove it to her,
instead pretending that he was someone else. A friend that doesn't even exist. "I'm sorry,
Granger." He said softly.

Hermione sighed heavily, a small smile playing on her lips as she looked at Theo. "Doesn't
matter. Whoever this guy is that Malfoy sent is a fallen angel. He's saved me more than once.
If Malfoy couldn't do it, then I'm glad someone else can and accepts me for who I am. Just
like I accept him, he's the sweetest." She said. "And...I think...that I--"

"Love him?" Theo laughed through his nose, arching one brow, grinning at her.

A blush broke out across her cheeks. "Maybe." She tucked a curl behind her ear, fiddling with
the edges of her book. "Oh well. At least he's given me someone that I can trust more than
him. But that doesn't mean that I agree with what I've done. It was wrong, and I let Harry
down. I'm the worst friend in the world."

Theo's smile faltered, and he silently nodded, swallowing at her words. "He is grateful; you
do know that, don't you?"

"You and my stranger keep saying that. I understand why he's here, but it would be nice if
Malfoy had done this himself. You understand that, right?" She cocked her brow up at Theo,
a scrutinised expression across her face. "If this were you. Would you have come to me
yourself? Or have someone else do it because you couldn't face me?"

"Myself." He said it without even thinking about it twice.

"Exactly." Hermione, said picking up her book once again. "I'm sorry, Nott, but Malfoy's a
coward. After this is done, I shall write him a letter to say thank you for having someone
watching my back. But after that, I don't want to see him again. Who knows what my future
holds with my stranger? If I even have one with him at all."

Theo clenched his jaw as she carried on reading and discreetly took out the galleon in his
pocket, sending a quick message to Draco.

Did you hear what she said?- T.N.

It took a moment for him to reply as his message faded. He almost put it back, but then Draco
replied within an instant, and his heart broke for him, but after all, this was partly his fault for
keeping himself hidden.

Why do you think I stopped you from saying anything? She hates me, and she always will. I'm
no good for her. I'll disappear after this so that she can move on—D.M.

Theo shook his head, pressing his tongue against the back of his front teeth as he replied to
him.

Draco, enough dancing around. This has gone on long enough. Tell her when you come back,
believe me, she may be furious, but it's better sooner rather than later. Don't you want a life
with her?- T.N.

What life? I'll be thrown into Azkaban after this. I'd rather die before Granger knows who I
am. End of, goodbye Theo—D.M.

~♡~

4 weeks and 3 days later 23rd December 1997-

Hermione stood with the locket swinging between her fingers. It was cold, the wind biting
her cheeks, the air icy, slushy, and muddy against the leaves. In her hand held the sword of
Gryffindor that Harry had found in a frozen lake, which in fact he had been able to find by a
patronous in the shape of a deer leading him to it and Hermione had gone with him to help
him retrieve it when the patronous had sunken down to the bottom.

Godric's Hollow hadn't gone all too well. The day before, her stranger returned her, and
Harry had gone there and found his parents grave. Laid to rest, together, just as they should
be.

It was rather emotional, a fleeting moment that didn't last long when who they had presumed
was Mathilda Bagshot had actually been Nagini trapping them and trying to kill them.
Hermione had taken what she needed, a book as a gift to Mathilda all about Dumbledore.

Now here she stood after Nott kept popping by every other night to make sure she was okay,
laughing and joking with her. Offering to practice duelling even though he was rather rusty
himself. Her stranger was home and had come to her last night, kissing her until she was
breathless under the moon, and then they had talked about his time in Australia.

His mission had been successful, much to his demise and grimace; they'd managed to
convince more followers, and he had told her he had to kill or torture those that refused. She
could see the deep remorse and regret in his eyes as he had told her, whilst holding her in his
arms, and she was quite sure that as she had fallen asleep in his lap, he had been crying.

She understood that although he was here to help, there would be times that he would have to
do what he was made to do.

Kill and damage.

But he assured her that her parents were safe, happy, and enjoying their life in Australia away
from where they were in the first place. That they looked peaceful and carefree of the dangers
that their daughter was currently facing.

Just as she had intended for them to be.

Unfortunately he hadn't had much luck on the next Horcrux, but that was okay because now
they had their weapon, and they were about to destroy the locket with it.

"Okay, Hermione," Harry carefully took the locket from her and placed it on a fallen tree log.
"I'm going to speak to it in order for it to open, and when it does, don't hesitate. I have no
idea what's in there, but you have to be quick. Don't let it in. All right?"

Hermione nodded, bracing herself as Harry took a step back and raised the sword over her
head, ready to strike. But as she went to slam it down, a voice and some footsteps startled her
from behind, breaking her concentration.

"Don't trust her, Harry."

Ron.

Hermione whipped around, her hair flying with her as Ron stopped in the clearing, his hair
shaggy and longer. His clothes were messy and his bag was slung over his shoulder, but his
face was a cold demeanour as he glowered at her.

"Ron?" Harry's brows furrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving your stupid arse, that's what!" Ron's voice rose higher, his eyes seething into
Hermione's. "Don't fucking trust her; you can't. Not anymore."

Hermione looked at him confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh," his mouth cracked into a vile grin. "Having a bit of amnesia, are we? As your
boyfriend did to me?" He spat violently.

Hermione flinched, her fingers shaking around the sword. No, no. There was no way that he
could remember that; the Death Eater had obliviated him to stop him from remembering all
of that.

"Boyfriend?" Harry parroted. "What boyfriend? Ron, what are you talking about? Hermione's
been here the entire time."

Ron slid his eyes to Harry as he came to stand beside her. "There's one, but you don't know
about it because he's been paying her visits when you were asleep. Also at the time, I was
here too."

"Who?" Harry focused on her, looking even more confused. "Hermione, is that true? Does
someone know where we are?"

"O--of course not," she laughed anxiously, her heart rate rising as she twisted her fingers
around her beaded bag strapped across her. "He's making it up. I don't know what he's talking
about."

"Stop lying, Hermione," Ron drawled. "I got into a fight with some snatchers a few weeks
ago, and they hit me with a spell that undid the obliviation."

Hermione closed her eyes, a shuddering breath escaping her, wetting her lips, and bit down
on her bottom lip to stop herself from bursting into tears.

"Someone obliviated you?" Harry, asked more confused than ever, bounced his eyes between
a furious Ron and Hermione, who looked like she wanted to be sick. "Who?"

"Ask her."

Harry looked at her, and she opened her eyes, locking eye contact with him, her own welling
with tears, fighting to break free. Her mouth opened a few times to speak the truth, but no
matter how hard she tried, nothing came out of her mouth.

Ron grew impatient and paid his agitated attention to Harry. "Hermione has been seeing a
Death Eater, Harry." Harry snapped his head at him, his eyes rounding. "I found them three
months ago, in our wards, snogging each other senseless. He's working for Malfoy because of
her saving his life that day in the bathroom. I tried to kill him; I accidentally slapped
Hermione when I came to tell you--"

"Ron, please stop!"

"--and he tried to kill me back. Then he obliviated me to stop me from opening my mouth. He
knows about the Horcruxes--"

"Ron!" Hermione's voice broke, catching the horror flickering across Harry's face as he spilt
her lies to him.
"--he's been sending you and us food. He claims he's helping, but I warned her. And she
wouldn't listen. And who is that Death Eater, should you ask?" He arched his brow, locking
eyes with a tearful, trembling Hermione. "Nott. Oh, yeah, I've been back longer than you
think, keeping an eye on you. Oh, no wait! The other one is back too, so guess what, Harry,
there's two of them!"

Hermione shook her head, sniffling as her heart sank to the pit of her stomach, praying to
Merlin that Harry didn't believe a word of this, but as she looked at him, she could see that he
wasn't on her side.

"You know, I thought I was going crazy when I was ill that a Death Eater was leaving our tent
that night you lost Pan. Hallucinating," he whispered, his green eyes turning angry. "I thought
I was going bonkers even more, hearing Notts voice, but I presumed that it was just us on the
run, making me more sleep-deprived and hearing things. You never mentioned it so i didn't
think it actually happened. So, it's true?"

Hermione dropped the sword at her feet and wiped both hands across her cheeks, stepping
closer to Harry and grabbing his hands. He didn't pull away, however, but he looked betrayed
all across his face as he stared back at her.

"Okay, look. Yes, it's true and I know it's wrong, but he's not a bad person i swear. And I'm
not seeing both of them. Nott was here as a guardian to make sure I didn't do anything stupid
whilst the other was gone. I swear he's not a bad man; he's here to help, and he's been
helping."

"Hold on," he shook his head, blinking a few times in confusion. "Who is the other one?"

Hermione swallowed the lump that had grown in the back of her throat, taking a deep breath.
"I don't know his name. I don't even know what he looks like." She whispered, her voice light
and airy as though someone had stolen her vocal cords. "He's protecting me, I swear, and he's
not here to hand you in. If he were, he would've done it by now. You believe me, right?" She
searched his face.

Harry didn't say anything. She half expected him to push her off and tell her to get away from
him. His features told her that he was betrayed, but his eyes softened a sense of
understanding and relief that he hadn't told Voldemort yet either.

When Harry took a long time to answer, Ron pushed past her knocking her shoulder hard
with his smashing her into Harry, grabbed the locket and snatched the sword from the floor.
He then gripped Harry by the elbow and yanked him out of her grasp, his wand clenched
tightly around his fingers, looking at her with such hatred she wanted to sink into the ground.

"One more thing, Harry." Ron said something in the way he spoke suggested that he wasn't
done revealing her treachery. "Hermione is the one that helped Malfoy mend that cabinet."

Hermione felt her face drain of all colour as Harry looked at her fast in deeper betrayal. How
did he know that? Had he been reading her thoughts without her realising? Had he heard the
conversations between her and Nott?
They'd talked about it whenever he came to make sure that she was doing as she was told.

"Hermione, is that true?"

"I--," her heart pounding painfully in her chest, she was sure that they could hear it. She took
a breath and opened her mouth, unaware that she was being watched. And they weren't
fucking happy with how it was coming to light. "Yes, it's true, and I'm so sorry. I regret it, and
I wish I had never done it! I wasn't thinking! Please, please forgive me!"

"Hermione, I--," Harry's voice croaked, and he cleared his throat more clearly. "Hermione,
why?"

"I--,"

"It doesn't matter why," Ron threw the locket around his neck. "What matters is, she's a Death
Eater whore and a liar. We're leaving, and we're never coming back." He clenched through his
teeth.

"What?!" Harry snapped his eyes to him and caught the seriousness on his face. "No, Ron!"
He tried to tug his arm out of his grip as Ron raised his wand to apparate away. "No, stop!
Ron, don't you dare!"

"Ron, please!" Hermione cried, quickly moving forward to stop him as Harry desperately
reached for her; despite what she had done, he didn't want to leave her. Her hand reached out
to grab him, ready to go with them despite everything.

"Good luck with your Death Eaters, Hermione." Ron looked at her as though she was the
worst person in the world. "Enjoy bowing down to Voldemort. Where you belong."

"Ron!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs. His eyes connected with Hermione's, wide and
desperate for her to take it. Her hand was just about to touch his to grab onto him, but just as
she did, Ron disapparated in a nasty, ear-splitting crack with Harry, leaving her behind.

Hermione stopped her hand clutching the cold winter air, as her face fell into despair, as the
leaves fluttered to the ground, and now she was alone, far away from them. A broken sob
ripped through her throat as her hands shook, and she stumbled on her feet, choking on her
sobs and looking around, without a clue on where to go next.

Then that's when she felt someone and heard thousands of twigs snapping around her.

Her heart pulsed, skipping two terrified beats as she slowly looked around, and coming out
behind the trees were fifteen of them, crowding around her.

Snatchers.

Draco-

"We need to talk later, Draco," his father said at the lunch table whilst Theo spoke to his
mother about school. "You're so distracted these days, and I and your mother want to know
why."
Draco wasn't listening; he was too busy watching the moment Potter and Weasley vanished
and left her behind in the small mirror under the table. He couldn't hear what was being said.
But he knew it was about him, judging by the tears running down her face and how shocked
Potter had been; he took a guess.

His fist clenched against his thigh, into a white-knuckled grip as his leg began bouncing
under the table.

"Draco?" Lucius scraped his knife against his plate, growing frustrated at his silent treatment.
"Would you look at me for half a minute or even listen to me?"

Narcissa patted Theo's hand, smiling at him. "Of course you can stay for Christmas, Theo."
She said, catching her husband's attempts to get their son's attention. "Draco? Can you
answer your father, please?"

Draco's chest began heaving as Granger tensed, her eyes widening in fear and her pulse
around his ring spiking, faster and higher in fear. A bad feeling coiled in his gut, and then
that's when he saw them.

Snatchers and fucking Greyback cornering her like a mouse into a trap.

"Draco, look at me!" Lucius ordered.

Draco shot up out of his chair so hard it smacked into the wall, demanded his death eater
robes and mask, and magically slanted them onto his body as Granger took off in the mirror,
and now the snatchers were chasing her. "I have to go." He said in his dark and hateful tone,
pulling his mask down his face, ignoring his father, and ran out of the room as fast as he
could.

"Where are you going?!" Lucius's voice bellowed after him, but Draco didn't turn back. He
commanded his wand straight to his hand, eyes hard, jaw in a bone-crushing clench as he got
to the wards.

"I'm coming, Granger. Keep running," he panted heavily as he cracked away in a furious, ear-
splitting crack that was enough to split the world into two halves.

Hermione—

Hermione ran, dodging their spells, chains, and curses that kept hurling over her head. She
turned back, quickly throwing down a nasty reducto, powerful enough to knock three of them
out.

Her legs were burning, begging her to stop as she ran, dodging the trees, jumping the fallen
logs, and bushes, and kept throwing spells over her shoulder, but every time she looked, they
were getting closer.

He'll come for me.

Hermione kept reminding herself as her lungs felt as though they were on fire. She had a
stitch on her side in her ribs, her body ready to stop itself.

He'll show up. He'll come for me.

Hermione collided into one of them as they appeared out of nowhere, and she gasped, the
wind knocking her through her spine as he shoved her to the ground and crawled over her,
maliciously smiling at her with rotten, foul teeth.

"Get off me!" She kneed him in the stomach. He grunted and rolled off her, grabbing at his
crotch. Hermione made her escape and pushed herself to her feet, but in that one stride he
snatched her ankle, and she fell face-first to the ground as he crawled over her back, fisting
his hand into her hair.

She bit down on her tongue to stop herself from screaming, as the tears blurred her vision
from the painful tight grip he had on her hair.

"Now, now, mudblood," he sneered venomously in her ear, his hot, rotten breath making her
retch. "This is going to hurt you more than it hurts me."

"Get off!" Hermione cried, reaching out to grab her wand a few feet away from her. "Stop!
Please!" She begged, as she felt him shift and heard his belt buckle go.

"I will once I'm finished with you," he laughed, one of his hands exposing her lower back,
pressing his legs into her thighs to stabilise her.

Hermione shuddered, her skin crawling in violation as he pressed his calloused, rough,
freezing fingers into her spine and moved up her back towards her bra. "Please, stop!" She
wriggled in his hold, trying to get free, and screwed her eyes shut as his hand dragged back
down towards the waist of her jeans.

She held her breath, hoping it would end quickly, and buried her face into her arm, but when
she expected her jeans to be ripped from her, suddenly the snatcher's weight was gone from
her back. Hermione whimpered and quickly hooked her fingers around her wand, and that's
when she heard it: blood-curdling screams and nasty, brutal killings behind her.

She turned around quickly, hoping she would see who had come to save her, and there he
was.

Her death eater slaughtered them in the most intense, vengeful, powerful way she had ever
witnessed in all of her life.

He was brutal, instead of the simple killing curse he was slicing his wand in the air, splitting
the ones running for their lives in the opposite direction as he used his spare hand to stab his
dagger into the ones closest to him in their jugulars. His foot pressed against the one that had
tried to take her down into his throat, choking him to death.

Hermione's chest heaved as she clutched her ribs, wincing, knowing that one of them was
broken from her hard fall face-first to the ground as she watched him take them all down
easily and without mercy.

He was moving fast as he took them down one by one. His feet swift and quick, as though he
were dancing, his cape moving with him in a black canvas snapping as it hit the wind
currents, creating a thundering clap.

He had the one that had been on top of her in a headlock, saying things in disdain that she
couldn't fully understand.

He blasted one of the others torsos to bits, his insides splattering across the forest, and cut his
wand up to a sharp left that sliced three of the others heads off in one clean movement.

He killed, over and over again in furious rage, picking them off, that he didn't even have to
look when one tried to approach from behind, and he sliced his throat as he turned in one
quick turn.

Hermione watched him as she pressed her back up to a tree, as he took out another, then
another until lastly it was just Greyback and who she presumed to be Scabior still locked in a
strangulation headlock.

Greyback went to attack, but her Death Eater was quicker as he shot out a rope from his
wand, and it snapped around Greyback's ankle and pulled him upside down, binding him up
until he couldn't move.

He flipped his dagger three times in his hand, reared back, and stabbed Greyback in the
stomach, which caused him to howl in an agonising cry as he dragged it down to his chest.
Hermione flinched as he twisted it in a sharp gesture of his wrist and pulled it out harshly,
blood pouring down Greyback, so quickly it was creating a river below him as it dripped into
his mouth, eyes, and hair, all over him until he was drenched in it as he thrashed to get free.

Hermione's eyes wanted to look away, but she couldn't. Not even when her Death Eater
shoved his hand into Greyback's chest, up to his elbow, and pulled his heart out, crushing it
into his palm, until his hand was shaking violently. Hermione retched as his heart squished
into nothing but goop, but she was thrilled to see the way Greyback's blown wide in death as
the Death Eater yanked his jaw open and shoved his own heart down his throat.

"Get off!" Scabior fought in his hold and punched at her deatheater so hard it knocked his
mask flying off his face, which landed right beside Hermione's foot.

Hermione's breath hitched as she reached her shaking fingers out and picked it up, into her
hands, and shot her eyes to his back. He still had his back to her, his hood up, but his mask
wasn't on anymore.

Now was her chance to see who he was as she clenched her jaw and forced herself to her feet
as he carried on fighting Scabior.

"He's going to kill you!" Scabior choked as Draco tightened his hold around his throat. "Once
he finds out you betrayed him, he will end you for protecting the mudblood!"
Draco curled his lips up into a blood-curdling sneer as he pressed the tip of his dagger into
his jagged and moved his lips by his ear. "She's fucking worth it." He said, without regret but
proudly, as he began to slowly and torturously pierce the dagger into his flesh. "Rule number
one. Never touch what belongs to us, Malfoy's."

Scabior choked, puking blood that curdled at the back of his throat as the dagger twisted and
punched through the other side. Draco watched him, his vision red as he gurgled, vomited
more blood as his eyes fogged over, and suddenly he was still in his arms.

Draco cut his dagger forward, ripping out his voice box, as he let Scabior crumple to the
ground face-first into his own pool of blood vomit. He finally released the breath he had been
holding and sighed heavily in exhaustion as the dagger slipped through his fingers, clattering
to the ground between his boots. His nostrils flared, his chest heaved violently and angrily as
he looked around at the mess that he had made.

Dead.

All 15 of them dead, after giving them what they deserved.

Draco hadn't even noticed that his mask was missing as he attempted to calm down,
clenching and unclenching his shaking in adrenaline hands at his sides attempting to even his
breathing.

A quiet clearing of a throat came from behind him, and he wetted his lips, prepared to face
her.

"I knew you'd come," Granger said softly and so gratefully behind him. His heart stuttered at
the way her voice was shaking. "You always know where I'll be."

Draco widened his eyes as he realised that his face suddenly felt naked, and he raised two
fingers to his cheek. His breath hitched; he swallowed nervously as panic began to bloom in
his chest.

"Can you look at me, please?" She whispered.

Draco couldn't; he needed his mask. He wasn't ready; he darted his eyes around the area to
find it, silently commanding it to his hand, but it never came.

No, no, no. Fuck!

"Hey," she grabbed his arm from behind him, and he turned away from her to the right as he
heard her trying to round him, hiding his face, his lip slightly trembling, knowing how she
was going to react. "Please look at me. I just want to make sure you're okay."

Draco tried again to demand his mask, but it wasn't coming forward. Where the fuck was it?

This can't be happening.

"Look at me," her fingers squeezed his elbow, her tone gentle but demanding at the same
time. A plea deep in it. "Look at me. It's okay."
Draco's chest tightened up, and his mouth ran dry as he plucked up the courage to show her
his face. With a trembling, cold, sweaty hand, he reached up and slowly removed his hood,
showing her his blonde, no longer gelled-back hair but swept to the right, purposely
dishevelled these days, the wind breezing through it.

He heard her breath hitch sharply behind him, and her hand released his elbow as soon as she
saw it. He could feel her gaze burning into the back of his skull as he closed his eyes and
threw up his occlumency shields hard to block out the sudden anxiety running through his
veins as his heart raced painfully in his chest.

Hermione clutched the mask to her chest, her eyes wide at the platinum head of hair before
her that she recognised straight away. No. It couldn't be, could it?

Her muscles tightened as she watched him roll out his shoulders, and he began to turn to face
her. She caught it first, the sharp, tight, muscled line of his jaw setting. His chin jutting
slightly. The sharp bone structure of his cheekbones, sharp enough to slice your finger on.
The smooth, pale alabaster skin, she once couldn't stop looking at.

Then there they were.

The stormy intent pools of grey as he turned to face her, fully. The eyes she had fallen in love
with over the last few months.

Draco Malfoy.

Hermione stumbled backward as she sucked in a breath, terror washing through her and her
insides turning cold as he stared at her with an unreadable expression that conveyed a sense
of malice or indifference. His gaze was cold and calculating as a shadow passed over his face
that she couldn't explain.

Impassive.

As though he were made of stone, he stared at her.

"You." She finally said, her arms dropping to her sides as she dropped his mask to the floor as
she tracked her eyes up and down him.

Hermione watched the way his lips twitched as though he was fighting to stop them from
trembling at her detached reaction.

"Granger," he said calmly. His tone was off, but back to normal, still deep and enough to send
that beautiful warm shiver up her spine, but she ignored it. A sense of nostalgia crashed into
her ears in the way he said it.

Hermione swallowed as they stared at one another in silence for several heartbeats. "It's been
you this entire time, hasn't it?" She whispered, her breath catching.

Malfoy slowly nodded, never taking his eyes off her, waiting for her to do something.
Hermione's jaw trembled as she stared at him. Now it all made sense. Why he wouldn't show
his face. Why he had sent Nott when he wasn't around, the snarkiness, the way he spoke and
acted around her sometimes. Half of it made sense, and deep in her gut she subconsciously
knew, but he had done everything to throw her off. How he had said that he doesn't deserve
her.

A mixture of emotions rolled inside of her. Deep hurt, anger, disappointment, disbelief, and a
sense of loss of trust because he had lied to her when she had asked him if he was or not.

He'd lied to her face twice.

Hermione turned away from him as he caught her facial expressions and put her hands to her
mouth, taking several deep breaths in through her nose to stop herself from crying in front of
him.

Too late for that, he'd already seen her at her most vulnerable. Loads of times before. She'd
kissed him. Kissed Malfoy!

Stupid girl.

Hermione's throat ripped a muffled sob as she looked back at him through her glossed and
blurry eyes and caught the moment he had realised that he had made a mistake. He took a
step forward as his face tensed, and she immediately took one back, grabbing her wand and
aiming it at him, her wrist shaking.

"Granger, I can explain. I promise, and I know you're angry at me; I can see it. Just lower
your wand. All right?" He said calmly, holding his hands up to show that he was weapon-
free.

"You lied to me," she choked out, betrayal ripping through her. "I asked you, and you said
no."

"I know," he said regret deep in his voice. "But, I had to. You never would've trusted me if
you knew that it was me."

Hermione was trying. She was trying so hard not to cry, but the tears fell anyway. "Were you
ever going to tell me that it was you?"

Malfoy didn't answer as he looked away, rolling his jaw, then looked at her through hooded
lids.

"Were you ever going to tell me the truth, Malfoy?!" She shouted through her tears.

The look he gave her gave her the answer that she already knew. It felt like a punch to the gut
as he opened his mouth and then closed it tightly again, refusing to answer her.

Hermione's face twisted into a scowl. "I knew it. You are a coward!" He flinched at her tone.
Hermione batted at her eyes to get rid of her tears as she took a step back, eyeing him up and
down in disgust. "Ashamed of me, I knew it. You couldn't face me; you just had to do it by
hiding to make yourself feel better."
 Anger passed through his eyes. "That's a lie!"

"I don't care," she sneered. "Because if it was the truth, you would've shown me at the
wedding and admitted it to me." She scoffed and turned away from him. "Don't come near
me again. I'll finish this on my own." Hermione began walking off, but she didn't get far as
she heard him move behind her, and then something hit her in the head, and she dropped to
the ground.

Hermione's vision blackened at the corners as she saw his combat boots come to stand in
front of her as she felt the stunning spell drip over her, immobilising her and making her
drowsy.

The last thing she saw as her eyes fluttered and her eyes dropped shut was his hand reaching
out and placing against her cheek, grazing his knuckles along her jawline as her world went
dark.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Granger. I never meant to hurt you." His whisper reached her ears just
as she blacked out, deep graveling pain in his tone; it wrapped around her heart and clenched
it, trapping it there where it belonged with her pain.

Chapter End Notes

I think this may be my longest chapter yet, and honestly this took me 2 days to piece
together but here we are and she knows!

Do you think she has a right to be mad at him?

Let me know down below and I shal reply when I can!

Hope you enjoyed 🫶🫶

 Chapter 11
Chapter Notes

Trigger warning ⚠️
Mention past baby death.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Harry 23rd December 1997-

"What is wrong with you?!" Harry pushed Ron off as soon as they landed, his hands flying to
his hair as he looked around at a mountainside he didn't recognise. His heart was racing
erratically; they were going to be there; he just knew it. He could feel it.

"I did what I thought was best! She's working with them, or don't you care?!"

"No, I don't care!" He shouted. "Take us back to her right now!"

"No," Ron scoffed, pocketing his wand deep into his coat pocket. "You're deluded to think
that she's our friend after everything she's done."

"Take us back." Harry clenched his teeth and moved closer to him. "They could hurt her."

"If you want to be with a traitor, then go ahead. Don't expect me to join you. I'll carry on the
hunt without you."

"I can't go back because my wand broke in Godric's Hollow when I and Hermione escaped.
I'm telling you for the last time: take us back to her right now. You set off the taboo, Ron!"

"Then I guess you've got no choice but to stick with me." Ron spun on his heel and started
heading off down a rocky slope.

Harry chased after him. "Ron, please," he panted as he grabbed onto some branches to steady
his non-grip trainers on the rocks. "Please, can we go back? We can't leave her there."

Ron shrugged as he jumped across a wide black gap towards a flatter surface. "I'm sure her
boyfriend will be there. He's always there."

"What if he's not?" He paused as Ron violently tossed his bag onto the ground. "What if he
doesn't know? Do you really want her death on your head?"

"Please, Harry." He scoffed. "He'll be there."

"You don't know that!" He yelled in frustration at his back. "Ron, she's our friend. I don't care
about her actions; I'm no longer interested in anything Malfoy has done or is involved in.
There are more important things going on. Please, take us back, and let's go get her." He
begged, placing his hands to his chest, scared for her.

Sure enough, Hermione could take care of herself. But he'd seen them. Loads of them, as he
was taken away from her; there was no way that she would be able to go against that many
all by herself. There was only so much one witch against a dozen could do by herself.

Ron was ignoring him, too busy cluttering around in his bag as he kneeled against the
ground.

Harry grew frustrated and shoved his hand into Ron's pocket and snatched his wand from
him, taking a few steps back. Ron turned around and launched himself at him, but then he
faltered as Harry aimed his own wand at him, his chest heaving as he shook his head, a
desperate expression across his face. Ron curled his hands into fists at his sides, glaring at
Harry through heavy hooded lids.

"Ron, I know you're angry. But please just listen to me. She's done wrong; I get that. I know
you're angry, and I should be too," he spoke clearly, trying to keep the shakiness out of his
voice. "But if this Death Eater has been around for months and I've seen him, then why hasn't
he handed me in? Why hasn't he hurt her? Answer me that, because no matter what I should
feel, I don't truly care what she's done. Hermione or Malfoy, it doesn't fucking matter. The
cabinet would've been completed regardless."

Ron scoffed, shaking his head, barely believing what he was hearing. "How can you stand
there and defend her? Dumbledore is dead because of her. You saw it with your own eyes,
Harry. You were there!"

"How many times do I have to tell you?! Malfoy lowered his wand! Snape did it! It was
Snape this entire time!"

"I don't care about those two; this is about Hermione, Harry." He dropped his tone low as he
brushed his fingers up and down his jawline. "She's involved with a Death Eater, and he
knows about the Horcruxes."

"I know that you're upset," Harry took a deep breath, swallowing thickly. "And I know you
still love her, and I understand that you're hurting. Come on, Ron. You don't want her to die,
do you?" He searched his face, hoping he was listening. "Hermione has gone above and
beyond for us for years. She saved Malfoy when all I wanted was for him to die back then.
She thinks that I don't know, but she was there all the time in the hospital wing with him,
making sure that he was okay."

"He's Malfoy." Ron spat, folding his arms across his chest.

"And I almost killed him." Harry admitted. "He was scared and begging her to save him; he
was out of it, but he subconsciously knew that she was there. I don't have the answers for
why she did it. But I just know that whoever is working with him can't be that bad. We
wouldn't be here right now, so please," he sighed heavily, his chest tightening at how much
time had passed throughout this conversation. "Please, please, please. For the final time, I
implore you to return and retrieve her so she can provide an explanation. Please, Ron. We
need her; she's our best friend."

Ron didn't answer for a long time. He simply stared at Harry, a slight flicker of guilt crossing
over his face as he stared at him. Then he glanced at the ground, slumping his shoulders
heavily.

Harry rolled his own. "If you don't go with me, then I'll go by myself and leave you here
wandless. You were selfish, Ron. You never leave anyone behind in a war. This is especially
true for the woman you claim to care about above all else. You chose the wrong day to upset
her; you know how hard this date is for her." He wetted his lips, running a shaky hand
through his messy hair. "But I will leave you here if I have to. I forgive her; despite what you
think, I forgive her. But I won't forgive you if you let her stay there on her own."

Ron took approximately 15 seconds to come to a decision, his face displaying a range of
emotions that Harry struggled to interpret, as his mind pondered over his options. Then he
saw the moment his face dropped in guilt, snatched his bag from the floor, and crossed the
space towards Harry.

"You're right," he whispered in shame. "You're right. I should've given her a chance to
explain her reasoning. I'm not happy, but you're making sense."

"Exactly," Harry said through clenched teeth, making sure that Ron knew he was furious.
"I'm deeply disappointed in you for placing her at the forefront. She never would've done that
to you."

"I know." Ron whispered under his breath, gripped his arm, and felt Harry's arm tense. "Let's
go get her."

"You'd better hope she's still there and alive, Ron," Harry glared at the side of his face. "I'll
never forgive you if you're the reason that she's dead." He spat harshly, hoping he would get
the message through.

Ron did as Harry prepared them to appear back where they were. He turned his face away
from Harry's searing glare and closed his eyes, hoping that he hadn't made the biggest
mistake of his life.

What neither of them knew, though, was that she wouldn't be there, and things would be
tough for them on the long road ahead once they discovered that their best friend was
nowhere to be found.

Because Draco Malfoy wouldn't be letting her out of his sights again.

~♡~

Hampstead-
Draco laid Granger's unconscious form on her bed, keeping his occlumency shields high as
he sat beside her on the edge, brushing her curls away from her eyes. He clenched his jaw as
he saw her coat, soaked in blood along her left-hand side, and carefully unbuttoned it,
flicking his eyes up to her face to make sure that she wasn't going to wake up.

He then pushed apart her coat and angled his head to get a closer look, as he caught her nude-
colored jumper torn in one long diagonal slice from under her breast down to her sternum.

Draco rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek and carefully used one hand to slide
under the middle of her back to lift her up and his other to push up her jumper, just towards
the wound he needed to heal before she would wake in case she was wanting a fight he
deserved.

His eyes narrowed momentarily as he focused on the slashed, savage hex gash that had
entered her flesh. Red, irritated, and inflamed, her clean crimson blood pooled down her side,
collecting in a puddle around her coat.

How hadn't she noticed this?

Draco shuffled closer and got his mother's mirror out of his pocket, waving it to show his
room, hoping that Theo was in there and alone.

"Theo?" He croaked more than he meant to. "Theo, are you there?"

Theo exited his bathroom with his brows furrowed on the other side and walked across the
room towards his full-length mirror. "Draco? What's wrong? You look dreadful; what
happened? Your father's going mental."

"I need you to come to Granger's house right now." He spoke hoarsely, his voice cracking at
how she had reacted to his presence. "Bring some medical potions from my lab. Be quick
about it."

"Draco, what's going on? Why are you occluding?" Theo eyed him, a swirl of concern for
him crossing his features.

Draco looked at Granger's sleeping form, exhaling shakily. "She knows." He whispered.
"And you were right. She didn't react well; I had to stun her. She's here with me, please. She's
injured; I don't have what I need, and I refuse to leave her. Her floo is connected to mine in
my room. Please, just bring some Dittany, blood replenishing, pepper-up, and knit-me-
salve."

Theo's breath hitched as he cleared his throat. "Are you all right? You look upset?"

Draco looked back at Theo in the mirror. Tempted to shake his head, but he refused to show
it. "Please just do as I ask, Theo. I'll tell you everything later. I promise. Don't tell Mother and
Father. I can't deal with them right now." He impatiently replied, a scowl settling on his face.

Theo nodded, running a stressed hand over his face. "I'll be five minutes. Shall I bring the
kneazle?"
"No. Just what I asked for." He snapped it shut and dropped it to the floor in a thud as he
focused on her again.

Draco took a long, deep breath while he just stared at her relaxed sleeping face. He hadn't
meant to stun her and not catch her. Truthfully he had quickly placed a cushioning charm on
the ground just before she hit it. He'd panicked, as she had turned away from him and needed
to talk to her.

He knew where she would go and what she would do, so he didn't want her to leave and fall
into the hands of more snatchers. It was easier this way, and he brought her straight back to
her home as planned in case this ever happened.

That was the whole point of fixing it up and securing it so she couldn't leave without his
permission.

He leaned over her until his face was hovering over hers and placed his hand against her
throat, slipping his fingers to curl around the back of her neck. Just one more wouldn't hurt.
One more stolen kiss—that's all he wanted and needed.

Draco lifted her head up so delicately, as he had read in fairytales that the prince would kiss
their princesses this way. The prince would search the entire world for her, fighting the
monsters, villains, and creatures to get to her no matter how hard the path was. To save her
and kiss her to wake her from her sleeping curse. Having endured the arduous journey to
reach her, the prince aspires to live a life filled with happiness. The prince would hold her
like this, press his lips to hers, and her eyes would open, and she'd smile at him, wrap her
arms around his neck, and allow him to carry her down the narrow steps of her tower and
take her far away on his noble steed from the land of evil to a land of gold, happiness, and a
new kingdom and marry her.

Give her the life she deserves.

People referred to him as the Slytherin Prince and her as the Gryffindor Princess. Why not?

He could pretend, right? He could pretend to be the prince, ready to awaken her from her
curse. Just for one moment he could pretend that this would end in the way he secretly and
desperately wanted.

Though he knew it wasn't going to end the way it did for the prince in the book, he could
have this one last moment while he had it. This fairytale was destined to take a different turn
for him.

The prince was either dead or imprisoned, while the princess continued to live and marry,
forgetting about her saviour and harbouring a deep-seated hatred for him.

Draco darted his tongue to wet his lips, his eyes locked on her cherry ones, and angled his
head slightly to the right as he brushed his nose against hers. Merlin, she smelt so good, as
her sleeping breaths through her nose brushed against his lips, ghosting hers. She smelt of
coconut, new books, and a hint of citrus.
His breath was suddenly shallow as though all of the oxygen had evaporated from the room.
A tight, suffocating knot twisted in the base of his throat as though he was about to cry.

Was he about to cry?

It had been a long time since he'd experienced it. He had forgotten what it felt like to truly
feel as though he had fought so hard and lost everything all at once. Maybe he had. He could
sense the agonising burns of the hot tears rising to the surface, and this time he didn't feel
ashamed that he was willing to release even a single drop. His walls crumbled, allowing him
to feel everything in her reaction. He could see the pain in her eyes as their gazes met. How
she had looked at him, all over, as though he was the worst person to ever exist in her
presence.

She had turned away from him, as though she couldn't bear to face the truth that, all along, it
had been him.

Draco felt it then. The sharp, agonising pain of not only saving her but also losing her all at
once, in less than five minutes, pierced his chest, twisting and tugging at his heartstrings. Was
this what it was like to feel? Was this what authors meant when the ending of the book ended
in a non-happily-ever-after when the reader expected it to play out differently?

He presumed so because he knew how this was going to end as he pressed his lips to her
unmoving ones and held them there. She was going to move on without him, marry someone
else, and bear children to the man that could truly give her what he couldn't.

A blissful long life.

His eyes squeezed shut tighter as he confessed his sin that he had been holding back for the
past few weeks. During his time in Australia, he realised the depth of his feelings for the
witch.

And he wasn't ashamed of it.

"I love you, Hermione." He whispered so quietly against her lips, he could barely hear it
himself.

He pulled away from her, promising himself to cherish that one last final kiss as he opened
his eyes, and one tear slipped free as he blinked. It landed on the corner of her right eye and
slid down her face, leaving a wet trail in its wake as it absorbed into her hair. Taking a deep
breath through his nose, he built his walls high, encasing her in a box that held his
confession, the things he had done for her, their past kisses and touches, and the way she
made him feel. He carefully buried her in a padlocked box to isolate her from the world, and
as he let her go, he suddenly felt numb.

Empty.

"Wow."
If he wasn't occluding, Draco would have jumped at the sudden voice behind him. He turned
his head over his shoulder and found Theo gaping at him, with a bag of healing potions in his
arms and a wounded expression across his face, bouncing his eyes between them.

Draco didn't even hear him come through the floo.

"You love her?" Theo whispered, his voice heavy as though he was heartbroken for him.

Them.

Draco blankly stared through him, the heavy cloud of occlusion blocking him from
understanding the look across his face. He stood up, crossed the room to Theo, took the bag
from his hands, turned back to Hermione, who was still knocked out, and retrieved the items
he needed to heal her.

"Draco?" Theo furrowed his brows as he came to stand beside him, sliding his hands into his
pockets, watching him concentrate on her wound. "Draco? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." His voice suddenly became icy and off as he placed some Dittany on her wound.
"I'm going to keep her here and stay with her for a while. I don't trust her to not try and
escape."

"Draco--"

"Once we've talked, I'm going to go and sort out a safe house for you, Pansy, and Blaise
before the holidays end. There's one I can get you near Cambridge, out in the middle of
nowhere."

"Draco--," Theo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, but he kept overtalking him as he
carefully placed some blood-replenishing potion down her throat and massaged her throat to
help her swallow.

"Bring the kneazle when I leave. She could benefit from some companionship during my
absence. If you wish to monitor her closely to prevent her from breaking the wards, you are
welcome to stay here as well."

"Drac—"

"Then after you three are safe in a safe house, I'm going to find Potter and Weasley and set
things straight. Then I'm going to find the remaining Horcruxes and destroy them. Kill him,
and then the wards will break once I'm arrested. Then she can leave and do as she pleases."
With a detached expression and a face as cold as stone, he finished healing her, pulled down
her jumper, stood up, turned to Theo, and handed the bag back to him.

Theo winced as he shoved it too hard into his chest, staring into his eyes that were now
turning a light electrical blue from the heavy occlusion. "Draco," he sighed heavily, now
gaining his attention. "I know you're upset. But you had to have seen that this was coming. I
told you, didn't I? If you hadn't told her the truth, this is exactly what would have happened."
Draco stared right through him as he pressed his lips into a flat line. He didn't blink or even
flinch at his honesty.

"I never wanted her to know. That was never part of the plan. The plan was to keep her safe,
and I've done my job." Draco blinked slowly this time. "Well, almost. You'd better go back to
Malfoy Manor. I'm going to wake her up. I'd rather you not be here in case she fights you too
for me forcing you to keep quiet." He turned away from Theo and slipped his wand from his
holster, hovering it over her.

"Let me stay; I can help explain it—"

"Go back to Malfoy Manor," he turned to him, teeth clenched and an angry flare in his eyes.
"It's not up for discussion. I don't want you here when it happens. I can handle it; I'm a big
boy. I've lost her already. I've accepted it, so go back to the manor. I'll tell you when to bring
the Kneazle over."

Theo bit down on his tongue to stop himself from saying something that he more than likely
would regret. "All right." He rolled his jaw. "Good luck, I guess."

Draco glared at him as Theo shook his head and headed back through the floo, the green
flames whooshing as he exited. He took a long, deep breath and turned back to Hermione,
preparing himself to wake her.

"Renervate." He swished his wand, and in a second flat, her eyes flew open.

Draco stood still, a good few feet away, as she sat up fast, her eyes adjusting to the room as
she took it in without realising that he was there. He watched her as her brows furrowed and
looked down at her bed, stroking her hands over her sheets, a hint of a confused smile
stretching her lips as she felt the familiarity of her own possessions.

Then, Hermione swung her legs off the bed and breathed in deeply as she slowly took in the
room. The sun was peeking in through the window, causing her eyes to turn a reflective gold
as he watched, holding his breath and staying absolutely still in her presence. Her hands
gripped the edge of her mattress, her shoulders rising and falling as she closed her eyes,
breathing in the familiar scent of her own home.

For a moment she looked as though she was in a faraway dream. She might have been
convinced that she was in a dream.

Happy, peaceful, and she stood up, taking off her coat and keeping her eyes closed. "Mum?"
She called out, her voice scratchy.

Draco would've flinched at her calling for her mother had he not been occluding and watched
as she turned her back to him, placing her coat neatly against her pillow, her head turning
towards the ajar door.

"Mum? Dad? Are you there?" She called again with a bit of hope in her tone. She must've
forgotten her reality for a split moment as silence met her in return. Then her shoulders
slumped, and as he guessed, it just hit her what was truly happening. "Oh, of course. You're
not here." She sighed in disappointment, her voice turning to confusion. "What am I doing
here?"

Draco made his move to speak as he cleared his throat. "I brought you here."

Hermione turned around quickly, her eyes widening as she locked hers onto his. Her hands
reached out behind her to rest against her bedside table as she stared at him, with an
expression he couldn't place. Weary? Guarded? Furious? He couldn't tell, as her eyes
narrowed and brows pinched as she looked him up and down so slowly he wanted to sink
into the ground.

Neither of them said anything for a while as a heavy tension settled around the room. He
couldn't bear the loud silence and opened his mouth when she got there first.

"I dreamed of coming back here," she said softly, but her tone was hard as she looked around
the room, taking him by surprise. "I never thought I'd see it again. Perhaps Mum and Dad
would naturally be here waiting for me with a tray of tea and biscuits. Asking me questions
about my year at school as always."

Draco's brows twitched at how calm she seemed watching her rove her eyes around the room,
a hint of homesickness in them. Her thumbs caressed the edge of her cabinet.

"Asking me about what spells I had learnt this year. If any creatures had broken into the
castle like that troll in the first year," Hermione snorted softly, a soft smile on her face. "The
looks on their faces were priceless. Terrified, I suppose." Her throat contracted as she
swallowed. "Their biggest fear for me was that I'd never make any friends. This fear stemmed
from the fact that I was constantly alone in the muggle school. It made them sad that no one
wanted to be my friend."

Draco said nothing as he rolled his tongue around his mouth, letting her have her moment.

"I'm too bookish. The boys would tease me for it, pulling my hair because it was bushy like
my mum's." She wetted her lips, talking to him, but she refused to look at him. "Girls would
whisper things about me. They would shun me if I attempted to participate in their
playground activities. Muggle school was hard, and I was so excited when I got that letter for
Hogwarts." She met his eyes then, pausing for him to speak.

He didn't, so she carried on.

"They didn't understand, of course," she pushed off her cabinet, keeping at a safe distance
from him as she folded her arms across her chest and rounded her bed to stare out of her
window, keeping her back to him.

He followed her with his eyes, staying right where he was.

"It came as quite a shock to them when I got upset and accidentally blew up the lights with
my magic when I was letting out my anger to my dad for the bullying I was going through.
Then the letter came, and McGonagall showed up and explained it all to them." Her breath
shuddered. "McGonagall showed them and explained how magic works and how Hogwarts
works. Despite their initial fear, they eventually calmed down, and when we visited Diagon
Alley, their eyes widened, revealing the biggest smile I have ever seen. They were excited for
me, hoping that I would make better friends with people who weren't any different than me."

Draco didn't know why she was telling him all of this. This was not what he had anticipated
happening when he woke her up. He expected her to shove him, scream at him, dig her wand
under his chin, and curse him to the underworld.

But she didn't. She was calm, though reserved, telling him her story.

"I was really excited when I got onto the train. I'd learnt all about the famous Harry Potter
and knew that he was coming. I felt quite lucky that I had met him while looking for a toad."
She placed her hands on the windowsill, tracing patterns onto it to keep herself busy. "I'd met
you. And you were cruel. So were your friends, but I wasn't going to let that stop me." She
chuckled softly.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, pressing her palms flat onto her windowsill as she
steadied her breathing. "I thought I'd make friends straight away. But I was wrong," her voice
turned small. "Harry and Ron laughed at me because I was too bossy. The girls in my dorm
once again shunned me. Lavender and Pavarti didn't like me at first. You regarded me with
disdain, as if I were a repulsive entity. I wrote to my mum, telling her that it was just as awful
as Hampstead Primary. She cried for me. All she wanted for me was to make friends, and
although I had some in the end, I had started to give up hope."

Hermione blinked back the tears, glaring at her driveway down below. She had had enough
and had grown tired of crying.

"Harry and Ron saved me from the troll. After that we became the bestest friends. I finally
found them. I had the two most important people in my life who I could count on, even
though I was responsible for most of the saving and knowledge. And now I've lost them.
Because of you."

There it was, the jab he had been waiting for.

"I never asked you to finish the cabinet, Granger." He finally said his tone was off to his own
ears. "It was never my intention for them to abandon you. I was prepared to shoulder the
responsibility and hold myself accountable for your actions. As it should have been."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, keeping her back to him. "It doesn't matter anymore. They
know, and they're gone. I did it to myself, Malfoy. I've got no one to blame but myself. It's
not your fault."

That took him by surprise, as his walls crumbled, wondering where this conversation was
going to go.

"I'm so angry at you, Malfoy."

"I know."
Hermione turned around to face him, the anger clear on her brows and deep in her eyes as she
stared at him.

"I know, and I know that you're disappointed that it's me." He said, keeping his chin high.
"I'm sorry I'm not who you thought I was. But whether or not you like it, you're safe here.
Your house has been rebuilt all by me; it's blood warded, and you shall not leave unless I say.
Because of what you did, I'll protect you and let you survive. So that you can bring your
parents home and carry on with your life."

Hermione scoffed sarcastically, her frown deepening further. "I'm not angry that it's you! I'm
angry because you lied to me when I asked you if it was you or not!" Her voice rose higher.
"Today is one of the worst days of my life, Malfoy. Ron picked the worst day to expose me to
Harry, and then this," she gestured at him and the house. "That's another reason I'm so upset,
one that I don't feel comfortable explaining to you just yet."

Draco didn't know what to say. "You're not mad that it's me?" He asked in confusion.

"No!" She snapped. "Of course I wanted it to be you! I think subconsciously I knew it deep
down, but you kept throwing me off, distracting me from believing that it was you. And then
to go so far as to stop Theo from telling me the truth hurt deeper. In my view, if you're
concealing yourself behind that mask, you're not Draco Malfoy, my archenemy. You are
assuming the identity of someone else."

"I've always been myself," he said, clenching his hands at his sides. "Hell, Granger, I didn't
think you'd want to come near me! You regretted it; you said so! It was easier to hide my face
and voice so that you wouldn't keep running and letting me do what I wanted—returning the
favour! I never meant to fall for you; it wasn't part of the deal!"

"But it happened anyway!" She slapped her palms to her sides. "I never wanted you to return
the favour; that's not why I saved you!"

"Then why did you save me?!"

"Because you were begging me to do something and Harry was going to leave you for dead,
Malfoy!" She shouted, her chest heaving. "I couldn't leave you like that. Despite our
differences, I wanted you to live! Would you have done the same for me if this was the other
way around?!"

Draco's walls shattered, the anger bursting through too strongly to hold himself back. "What
do you think I'm doing now, Granger? I have done everything I can to prove to you that I care
and want you to live since I discovered that it was you. Have I not done enough?"

"I'm not talking about now; I'm talking about the bathroom incident!" She pushed off the
window sill and crossed the room to him, looking up at him right in the eyes. "What if it had
been me in that bathroom instead of you? Would you have saved me or walked away?"

"Saved you," he gritted through his teeth as he stepped into her space, their chests almost
touching. "Despite your beliefs about my treatment of you, I would never have allowed you
to die. And that is the truth."
"Then why did you lie to me?" She whispered, darting her eyes back and forth between his.
"Why did you hide from me?"

"I'm not good enough for you. We're opposites, Granger. You're the light, and I'm the dark.
You deserve better than me."

"Don't you think that's for me to decide, Malfoy?" She sneered up at him. "When did you
start making my decisions?" she asked.

He resisted kissing her right there. The tension intensified as they gazed at each other. She
was so close he could feel her body heat radiating off her. Her perfume drowning him, he
wanted to bury his face in her hair and inhale it until he suffocated.

"You've been interfering in my life and providing cover for me. You made the first move; I'm
just finishing the game that you started." He smirked at her, and her eyes fluttered. "I'm sorry
I lied to you. But I'm not sorry for kidnapping you; you're staying here until I say so. You're
my prisoner until I say when you can go free."

"You can't keep me locked up here." Her eyes narrowed and flickered furiously back and
forth. "Not a prisoner in my own home."

"Either here or my manor, Granger." He leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. "What
would you rather?"

"Let me out and let me finish what I started. I don't need you to keep me locked up. There's a
war on."

"No," he lowered his gaze to her. "You've done well to follow my orders when I had my mask
on," he sternly said. "Now that it's off, nothing has changed. I'm sticking to my word until
you hate me with everything that you have. You shall stay here; you cannot leave." He took a
step towards her, and she took one back. "I will sleep downstairs; the place is warded."
Another step. "I will be leaving; I have things to do and people to see. I will complete your
hunt; I don't trust you not to run off and try and get away from me."

The back of her knees hit her bed, and she dropped down, glaring up at him as he bent down
over her and placed his arms on either side of her, caging her in as she met his gaze, refusing
to back off as his nose was inches from hers.

"Do you predict me as incapable of doing what I needed to do, Malfoy?" Her voice dropped
to an airy whisper, her shoulders rising and falling as he stared deep into her eyes. "Thought
you'd always find me? Wherever I go, you'll follow me, isn't that right?"

Draco's lips twitched, fighting a smirk that threatened to break free. "I'd follow you to the
grave if I have to, Granger. You can never outrun me. Everywhere you go, I will be there
until I break this connection between us." He wrapped his fingers around her left wrist and
gently brought it up to his lips, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he pressed his lips to her
pulse point.
Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering as he grazed his top teeth across her pale skin and
flattened his tongue against her pulse. She shivered; he smirked as her pulse thudded.

Draco pulled away, placing her palm flat against her bed, and dipped his head beside her ear.
"I meant what I said back at the wedding," he whispered into her ear.

"What's that?" She half-moaned and half-sighed into his ear. He closed his eyes to keep
himself distracted from it.

"I'd miss those captivating eyes of yours if they closed forever, Granger. This is true even if
you harbour animosity towards me. You're too important to me now. "I intend to make sure
that this," he said, placing his palm flat over her pounding heart. "Carries on beating. You
saved me; I save you. Then you can move on without me once I die or go to Azkaban."

"I don't want you to die or go to Azkaban," she said hoarsely.

"Tough, that's my fate. Yours is to live your life and do what you want with your future.
Accept it, Granger. Because I already have."

~♡~

Later-

Hermione sat on her bed, stroking Crookshanks in her lap as he purred and looked up at her.
She smiled down at him, so grateful that he was still alive. After Malfoy had left to do
whatever it was that he had to do, she'd walked around her house, emotional and yet at peace
to see her home once again.

He'd built this for her after he explained that the Death Eaters had destroyed it when she had
left. Then he had come back, taking her by surprise to see Crooks in his arms like a baby and
protesting for Malfoy not to leave. She was completely in shock that Crookshanks even let
him hold him like that.

He didn't even like Harry or Ron going near him, let alone her enemy.

Malfoy explained that he had attacked him when he came here once to mend her house and
hadn't left his side since. She suppressed a laugh as she tried to imagine Crookshanks living
in his opulent manor and sharing his bed with him. She couldn't picture it at all. Not really,
though it was something she wanted to see.

Maybe.

Hermione sighed heavily as she scratched him behind the ears. She wasn't angry that it was
Malfoy. Far from it, she supposed her reaction was merely due to the fact of what Ron did,
then the fact that he had lied to her about when she asked him.
However, that wasn't the end.

Today marked the anniversary of her parents gifting her an adopted brother when she was
nine years old. Unfortunately, that night, when he turned three months old and she was
responsible for his care, she went to check on him and discovered he had passed away in his
crib. She'd blamed herself ever since she had gotten too lost in her books and schoolwork.
She'd found him cold and lifeless, while her parents had gone to celebrate their anniversary.

Hermione struggled to forgive herself after her parents were unable to have any more
children. And they lost another one.

She was already experiencing a difficult day, and the departure of Harry and Ron, along with
the revelation of Malfoy, significantly escalated her emotions.

She was just disappointed that he hadn't shown himself earlier on.

But how could she stay mad at him when he had done everything for her? Fixed her home,
saved and taken care of Crookshanks, kept her safe, and killed for her? The fact that someone
would do all of that for her was rare, so she couldn't.

Despite her dissatisfaction at being imprisoned in her own home, she found solace in his
sneers, smirks, and snide comments that they made her want to strike him. Underneath was a
kind heart of someone who needed someone else. Even if he would never admit it, he needed
her too.

Malfoy was downstairs; she'd heard him return not so long ago, but he didn't come back up.
She presumed he thought she needed space, and here she had stayed.

This continued until Crookshanks jumped off her lap and padded towards the door, opening it
with his paw and disappearing.

"Crooks, where are you going?" She sighed and decided to follow him. Hermione grabbed
her thin grey hoodie, leaving her in just that and her night shorts, and followed him out,
catching him run down the stairs.

The house was dark and quiet, with no sign of life downstairs. However, she decided to
follow him as his tail disappeared around the bottom, heading into the front lounge. She
frowned and padded down the stairs quietly, wondering where Malfoy was in the darkness.

She reached the bottom and trailed the sound of Crookshanks purring through the darkness.
Hermione squinted, cursing herself for leaving her wand upstairs on her bed, when the
purring got louder, and she caught the silhouette of Malfoy lying down on the black leather
sofa he had gotten for her and her parents.

Hermione stopped in front of him as she found Crookshanks settling himself on Malfoy's
chest. She smiled at him as she crouched down and took a good look at him in the shadows.

Malfoy was asleep. His blonde hair was bright in the darkness, windswept and messy, a few
hairs resting against his closed eyes. He rested one arm behind his head, bare-chested beneath
the black blanket he had draped over him, with his head turned towards her. She tracked her
eyes all over his face.

Merlin, even in his sleep, he remained stunningly beautiful. The crease between his brows,
where he scowls so much, remains a permanent mark of his relaxation. She almost snorted as
his sleeping breaths filled the room as she looked at it. It was small but still there, leaving
him with a permanent mark that when he's awake, he barely smiles.

Hermione reached out and brushed the fallen hair out of his eyes, smiling softly at how soft it
was between her fingers. However, upon closer inspection, she realised that he had
undergone a transformation.

Dark circles under his eyes, instead of laugh lines, now from lines around the edges of his
lips. His face is a bit thinner, paler than usual.

The war and everything he was doing for her was chipping away at him. Eating him. She
could see it.

Her smile waned as she felt guilty about him taking care of her, but the question remained:
who was taking care of him? She gazed at Crookshanks, who was preoccupied with purring
and licking Malfoy's hand that was resting against his chest.

"Fuck off, beast," Malfoy mumbled in his sleep, his fingers twitching as he rolled over, and
Crookshanks growled in frustration, hopping up onto the back of the sofa in a strop.

Hermione bit back a laugh as Crookshanks scowled at Malfoy, then turned his back to him,
patting his tail against the sofa like a child in a tantrum.

"Hermione," Malfoy sighed, and she froze, latching her eyes onto his face. His eyes are still
closed and deep in sleep. "Hermione, I'm sorry." He said in his sleep, his brows twitching.

Hermione lifted her lips into a thin smile at how upset he sounded in his sleep and took a
deep breath as she decided on something that she never expected to do.

She climbed in beside him, lifting the blanket up as she lay down and pulled the blanket over
her legs, half sitting up as he shifted in his sleep, sighing heavily.

Hermione braved it, hoping he wouldn't freak out, and carefully lifted his head to rest against
her chest with both hands. She then slowly laid down with the back of her head resting
against the arm, watching his face as she ran her fingers through his hair, observing it fall
back perfectly each time.

"I'm so sorry I got angry at you," she whispered to him as his brows twitched again in his
sleep. "I didn't mean it."

Malfoy grunted in his sleep, as his arms slipped from under her back, his right under her back
and curled around her ribs, and his left lifted up and wrapped around her body his palm flat
around where his other was rested as he pulled her closer to him in his sleep, tightly.
 Hermione smiled, pressing her lips to his hair as she closed her eyes and kept her lips in his
soft, apple-scented hair, feeling his heart beating steadily against her ribs where he pressed up
against her.

"I love you," she whispered to him, hoping he could hear her. "Draco." She sighed into his
hair as sleep took her, holding him as he had held her for the last few months.

Draco heard her confession as he kept his eyes closed, a confused but relieved smile curving
the corner of his lips as he listened to her heart beating below his ear.

Finally, he could hear it instead of feeling it.

For the first time since he had taken the dark mark, he felt safe in the arms of someone he
didn't deserve, but would love until his dying breath.

Chapter End Notes

And there we have it, the reasons she was so upset, had her snapping.

Is she quick to forgive? Maybe but come on who wouldn't after all he's done for her.

Hope you enjoyed and I shall reply when I can 🥰🥰

 Chapter 12
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Harry-

Harry sat by the campfire, his arms wrapped around his legs and his chin pressed into the
backs of his hands as he stared through watery eyes at the fire crackling in front of him.
Silent tears streaked down his face as he inhaled shaky breaths.

He didn't know where they were. He no longer cared.

Ron sat opposite him, watching Harry through the flames. His nose was broken, his eye
socket was bruised and inflamed, and there was a bruising scrape across his left cheekbone
where Harry had lumped him one when they had returned to the Forest of Dean, where they
had left Hermione behind.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Ron attempted to keep himself occupied by stripping the grass between
his fingers.

Harry brought his knees up closer to his chest, scowling at the fire through his tears. "She's
gone. And it's all your fault."

Ron swallowed thickly at Harry's obvious hate for him. He wouldn't look at him after they
had their fight. He'd just sat down and stared at the fire for hours since they had arrived back
to where they were and placed some heavy wards, having to camp outside now that
Hermione was nowhere to be found and had the tent in her possession.

"Maybe he saved her in time." He whispered, trying to gain Harry's attention, but he wasn't
having it. "You saw all the bodies, Harry. He obviously killed them."

Harry brushed his sleeve under his nose, refusing to meet his eyes. "I don't care. She's still
gone, and I have no idea where he could've taken her." His tone was cold, sharp, and
unforgiving as he held the undestroyed locket around his neck. "We don't even know who it
is."

"What if—what if he's Malfoy?"

Harry met his eyes through the furious orange flames, glaring into his soul. His jaw set as his
fingers curled around his knees, digging deep into his flesh until it hurt.

"Maybe it's been Malfoy all along," Ron said softly, shrugging his shoulder lightly.

"Yes. Perhaps you're right. That doesn't mean he'll tell us where she is after what you did."

"Harry, she's obviously not dead. Whoever it is, even if it was Malfoy, he must've taken her to
safety. She has to be somewhere; please don't be mad at me forever."
"You don't get it, do you?" He stood to his full height, wiping both hands across his cheeks.
"You abandoned her, Ron. We don't know if Malfoy has her or saved her. We don't know if
Hermione, through some miracle, managed to kill them all and escape to safety. We don't
know if more showed up and kidnapped her. We don't know a single fucking thing, and it's all
your fault!" He was shouting now, more angry tears flowing down his face.

"Harry, please calm down--,"

"She could be dead; she could be alive. We don't know, and we'll never know, thanks to you!"
He interrupted him as his chest heaved violently. "So no, I won't forgive you! You are solely
to blame for Hermione's disappearance! Once I fix my wand, I will locate Hermione,
assuming she's still alive, and we will continue our hunt without your presence! I hate you! I
wish I had accepted Malfoy's attempt at friendship in the first year instead of you!" He
finished with a rough, violent breath.

Ron flinched in horror. "You don't mean that. I know you don't; that's just the locket talking."
He said his voice hurt.

As Harry approached the flames, his face darkened due to the shadows cast by the night sky
and fire, giving him the appearance of a man on the verge of losing his sanity. "I mean every
word," he drawled slowly, through his teeth in a menacing whisper. "We were doing fine
without you. I don't need you anymore. Hermione's the sister I never had, and now she's
gone, and I can't rest until I know that she's okay or even still alive."

Ron took a long, deep breath in through his nose, swallowing hard at everything Harry was
saying. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."

Harry didn't react.

In fact, he looked as though he didn't care to hear what he had to say as he leaned back,
eyeing him in disdain. "Hurry up and fix my wand. I want to leave you soon so I can find her
and fix what you broke." He sneered as he turned on his heel, snatching the sword from the
iced floor, and disappeared through the trees away from him, slashing the bushes in his
furious, heartbroken rage as he did so.

Ron finally released a shaky breath as he swallowed down the tight knot of guilt and pulled
out Harry's wand from his pocket, splitting it into two and laying it down on the icy grass. He
sobbed quietly to himself, guilty and mortified at himself for what he had done, and not only
had he lost Hermione.

He'd lost his brother too.

Harry hated him, but no one hated Ron more than he hated himself, hoping that Hermione,
wherever she was, was still alive.

~♡~
Hampstead-

"I had a thought," Hermione said as she entered the kitchen feeling refreshed after her
morning shower and sat down opposite Malfoy at the kitchen island, placing the book
between them.

"There's a surprise," he chuckled through a smug smirk, scratching Crookshanks under his
chin in his lap. "What's that then?"

Hermione smirked, though slightly scowled at him for his jab, as she opened the book up and
flipped through it. "Do you remember when we read together, and we kept seeing that strange
symbol?"

"Mm," he hummed.

Hermione, frowning slightly, bit her bottom lip in thought as she searched for it. "Where is it?
Where—oh! Here it is," she turned it towards him and showed him, pointing to it. "Now I
told Harry about it, and he said he's seen it somewhere else."

"Where?" Malfoy furrowed his brows and rolled his eyes at Crookshanks, who was huffing at
him as he stretched across the counter to grab his coffee, forcing him to halt his momentary
grooming.

He was a bloody, posh, ginger king.

"On Xenophelious Lovegood's neck at the wedding."

Malfoy frowned at her over his mug. "Loony's father?" He asked, arching one brow as he
took a sip.

"Luna," she corrected him sarcastically. "But yes. Her father."

"All right." He said. "What's your point, Granger?"

"Well," she sucked in a breath. "You're her cousin, right?"

His eyes rolled. "Do you bloody know everything?" With a sarcastic tone, he placed his mug
down on the counter.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes. I figured you should know that by now. But I
haven't figured out how; I just know that you're related. She mentioned it once in fifth year,
but I never saw you interact with her." She shrugged, folding her arms in front of her.

Malfoy sighed, roughly shifting Crookshanks in his arms more comfortably. "Lovegood's
mother is—was—my father's sister. Pandora Malfoy. I don't know why, but Father barely ever
talks about her, so don't even bother asking me." He held his hand up as she went to ask. "I
don't know what happened for them to stop talking. I just know that yes, we are cousins, and
apparently Father was ashamed of Lovegood."
"Oh," Hermione sighed, flicking her wand towards the coffee pot and levitating over a fresh
mug for herself and pouring herself one. "Do you know about Nymphadora?"

"Andromeda's daughter, do you mean?"

"Mhm."

"Yes," he rolled his jaw. "Of course I know. Mother misses her and knows about her niece.
Married someone called Ted, didn't she?"

Hermione sighed as she looked down at her coffee. "Yes," she nodded. "Ted's dead," she met
his gaze over her mug, watching his expression, but he didn't seem bothered. "He was killed a
few months ago before you showed up again."

"Are you expecting me to cry for a man's death that I've never met, Granger?" His brow
lifted, and she rolled her eyes in return.

"No, of course not. I just figured it's something that you should know. Could you possibly
relay the information to your mother, if you feel inclined to do so?" She suggested, shrugging
her shoulder lightly.

Malfoy only blinked at her. His expression is neutral. "Mother will only want to know if
anything happens to Andromeda. She never met the guy. Andromeda was banished for
marrying him; Mother hasn't seen her since 78, when my grandmother Druella kicked her out
of the Black home."

"I know. I've met her and heard all about it." She said this while pulling the book closer to her
and sipping her coffee. "I just thought she'd want to know. I thought she might be interested
in reconnecting or something similar. Andro is rather lonely and now expecting her first
grandson."

"Oh," he grinned in amusement. "One life ends, another begins." He snorted as he finished
off his coffee.

Hermione glared at him for that. "That's not funny, Malfoy."

He rolled his eyes again at her, his grin vanishing, and turned into one of his typical sneers.
"Take a joke. Salazar."

"Joking about someone dying isn't funny in the slightest." She snipped. "It's morbid."

"All right," Malfoy let go of Crookshanks, raising his hands in surrender. "No more dark
humorous jokes. Point taken." He huffed, scooping Crookshanks into his arms, cradling him
like a bloody newborn baby, as he scratched his belly for him.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled, straightening her back and raising her chin as he mocked her
silently. Then she eyed the pair of them, tilting her head slightly in amusement. "You know,
I'm surprised he's letting you touch him like that. He only lets me do that. He won't even let
Harry or Ron touch him. Let alone go near him."
Malfoy looked smug as he brought Crookshanks's face up to his, brushing his cheek against
his orange one. "I guess I'm the special kind. Yes?"

Hermione snorted, shaking her head. "I suppose. Does he like, Theo?"

"He hates Theo. And Theo hates him. They're like children, Granger. I've lost count of how
many times I've had to separate them. They're always hissing at one another." He sniggered,
shaking his head, his hair falling into his eyes. "That day I had to go to Australia. While
trying to use the bathroom, Theo unintentionally stepped on his tail. Then, because Crooks
yelped, Theo got startled and landed on him. Theo sustained scratches as a result."

Hermione barked a laugh, spilling her coffee in the process, and vanished it with a flick of
her wand. "That bad, huh?"

"Ask him yourself." He reclined in his chair, bestowing upon her an impenetrable smile. "I'm
sure he'll be more than thrilled to tell you all about it."

"That I shall," she quipped.

Malfoy chuckled, shaking his head as he finished off his own coffee. "What was your thought
then?"

"Hm?"

"The symbol," he tapped it twice on the page she still had open. "You said you had a thought,
but then you got distracted."

Hermione blinked for several seconds before it dawned on her what he was talking about.
"Oh, right. Well, I and Harry visited Godric's Hollow the day before you came back, and we
entered the graveyard to search for his parents. While he was looking around for them, I
came across a tombstone with the same symbol. Engraved with the name Peverall."

"Okay?" He asked, utterly confused, scrunching his nose.

"So, it means something." She said, her tone serious. "Xenophelious has it. The grave has it,
and now the book. It cannot be a coincidence, Malfoy."

"Why do I feel like you're about to tell me something stupid that has popped up in that
Gryffindor head of yours, that I know I'm not going to like or agree with?" His grey eyes
narrowed in on her suspiciously.

Hermione startled for a moment as Crookshanks looked at her with the same expression as
Malfoy's. Their expressions were both judgemental and suspicious, as if they could read her
mind. Yeah, she might have to split them up even as Malfoy's head tilted to the right;
Crookshanks copied him movement for movement.

It was rather unsettling.

"I want to go and see Xenophilius Lovegood." She said all business-like, rolling her
shoulders and jutting her chin out.
Malfoy stared at her for a very, very long time, chewing it over in his head. She could
practically hear the gears running wildly in that mind of his as his lips pursed to the side in
deep thought. His expression was blank and thoughtful as though he was considering whether
or not to give a naughty child their toy back.

Then he blinked long and slowly, making a show of it by yawning and stretching one arm
behind his head. Then he grabbed the Daily Prophet, stroked Crooks with his other hand, and
fanned the newspaper out, clearing his throat, shoving his interest into the Daily Prophet
instead of her.

"No." He sniffed, finally giving her an answer.

Hermione immediately seared a glare into the side of his face. "No?" He nodded in response,
humming, turning the pages. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean, no." He looked at her over the paper for a moment, then back to it.

"Well, what do you mean no?" She threw her hands up in the air, slamming her palm on the
kitchen island, making Crookshanks jump.

"I mean no. Do you want to hear it in French? Non."

"Malfoy--"

"Nee." He interrupted her, flipping through the newspaper as he placed it down on the
counter, pouring himself another coffee.

Hermione scowled at him. Was that Dutch? She wasn't going to let him win this one. She
tried again.

"Malfoy," she sighed heavily. "I just want to--"

"Tchɛtchɛ, Granger." Malfoy looked at her through hooded lids, a silent warning deep in his
eyes as he sniffed and went back to his newspaper. What fucking language was that?

Hermione growled in frustration.

"Can I--,"

"Não."

"But i just--"

"Žádný."

"Malfoy, would you let me finish and stop saying no to me in different languages?!"
Hermione became agitated with him, feeling tempted to toss her book into his flawless,
handsome face. She glared at him with a deadly look.
He smirked at her again, eyeing her up and down in a way that made her heart flutter. "Do
you know how adorable you are when you're angry? It's pretty cute."

Hermione gave in and launched her book at his head. He caught it, of course, just as it was
about to smack him in the nose. Malfoy peeked at her around the book, arching one arrogant
brow at her, but his smirk grew wider as he placed her book down in front of him.

"Violent too."

"Malfoy," Hermione took a deep breath in through her nose to avoid hexing him. "Please let
me talk."

"Fine," he said, dramatically closing the newspaper and pushing it away from him. "What
were you going to say?"

Hermione looked pleased with herself as she leaned on her elbows, earning his full attention.
"Xenophilius Lovegood obviously knows what this means. I just thought maybe we could go
and see him to see if he knew what it meant. I've researched everything in that book you gave
me, but nothing. Please, he might be able to help."

Malfoy wiped a hand over his face, stood up to his full height, placed Crookshanks on the
next seat next to him, and rounded the island until he towered over her. He closed her in by
stretching one arm to grip the back of her chair and his other leaning in front of her on the
kitchen island as he bent down to her eye level.

Malfoy whispered lowly, "On one condition, I go with you."

Hermione's brows furrowed as she stared up into his eyes. "I was going to see if you'd come
with me anyway."

"Good," his lips twitching into a smirk as he closed the space between them and brushed his
nose against hers. "Because you're never leaving my sight again."

She sighed, wetting her lips at the sight of his luscious lips in front of her. "I know."

His eyes darkened and his tongue flicked out to wet his own lips, as he dipped his head and
brushed his lips against hers, causing her eyes to flutter and her stomach to melt at his next
words.

"Such a good girl now," he purred as his hand found its way to wrap around her throat and
shunted her forward. She gasped, and he moaned heavily as her hands flew to his shirt,
fisting it tighter. "My good girl, I should say. Listening to me." He panted his hot breath
against her lips.

"Yours?" Hermione arched into him as he kept brushing his lips against hers but made no
move to kiss her properly. "Since when did you claim me as yours?"

Malfoy gently took her bottom lip between his teeth, grazing it softly, and watched as he let
go, allowing it to pop back into place. "You've been mine since you saved my life, Granger.
You have no idea what you've started. Or even what you do to me."
In one swift movement, his hand curled around her thigh, lifting her up, turning her, and
sitting her on the edge of the kitchen island, taking her by surprise as she squeaked, and he
stepped between her open thighs. He placed his hand on her waist, shunting her forward until
their hips connected.

"And what do I do to you?" She stuttered, resisting a moan, her blood rushing in her ears over
her pounding, loud heart; she was certain that he could hear it without feeling it.

A smirk graced his lips as he placed both hands to cup around her arse and rolled her hips
against his own, kneading the soft curved tissue. Heat pooled in her lower abdomen as his
very evident arousal ground up against her centre.

"It's possible for you to guess that one without me providing an answer." He whispered, his
eyes fluttering as he lazily did it again, taking a sharp breath through his nose.

Hermione softly moaned this time, her breathing heavy as she tried to kiss him, but he reared
his head back. She scowled, and he chuckled at her needy attempts to kiss her.

"I have to go," he smoothed his hands up her back to cup around her jaw. Their moment
ended as he placed a sweet kiss on her lips. "I have to go and sort out a safe house for Theo,
Pansy, and Blaise."

Hermione chased his lips as he pulled away, winking at her, and stepped away from her,
adjusting himself to his trousers as he left her feeling hot, bothered, and unsatisfied.

"Why a safe house?" She hopped off the island, her night shorts soaked, but she ignored it as
she smoothed down her curls.

"They don't want to return to Hogwarts because of the Carrows, so I promised them an
escape. I said I'd get Pansy and Blaise the night before they're supposed to go back," he
shrugged, folding up the Daily Prophet and tucking it under his arm, scratching Crooks under
his chin.

"Let them stay here." She offered.

Malfoy looked at her as though she had gone mad. "Excuse me?"

"Why not? There's plenty of room. If you plan to stay, you are welcome to sleep with me.
Parkinson can have the spare room, and the boys could share my parents room. It would be
more efficient if you didn't have to spend so much time finding them another house."

He winced at that as he paled. "Granger, I understand that you and Theo have developed a
brother-sister relationship that makes me want to vomit. Blaise, well, he's never had a
problem with you. But, Pansy. I don't know, Granger. She can be a right bitch when she wants
to be." He paused briefly. "And that's me being generous." He raised his brows.

"I can handle Parkinson," she challenged, tilting her head slightly as a smile graced her lips.
"Just let them stay here. We've already wasted Christmas Day because you kept disappearing
to make a show to your parents. They have three days; that's not enough time."
Malfoy rolled his jaw as he considered her proposal. He seemed conflicted as though he
wasn't certain that it was a good idea, but as he tilted his head thinking about it, she could see
from his expression that she was right. It wasn't enough time now to get one sorted.

"All right. I'll speak to Pansy, but I'll make some ground rules because I can't guarantee that
she'll be all that thrilled to enter a muggle home. The guys won't mind, but I can't guarantee
her. She's a challenging and troublesome witch."

"I can handle it. I handle you just fine. I'll go get their rooms ready while you go and speak to
them." She quickly kissed him on the cheek, sort of excited that the house wouldn't be so
empty but full of life, while her stomach flipped with nerves to know that she would be
trapped in her own home surrounded by snakes.

~♡~

A week later-

As Malfoy had predicted, Parkinson didn't appear overly excited to be here, having entered
the house four days ago with a weary, disgusted gaze. She was hesitant to touch things in her
posh robes, her perfectly red manicured nails resisting to touch and have a feel around the
house. As soon as her eyes had landed on Hermione, she had regarded her with a death glare
but soon backed off when Malfoy bore her down.

It took her a few days to even speak to Hermione, come out of her room, or even interact with
the others as she kept herself to herself, but Hermione could see she was uncomfortable,
stressed, and more depressed than she had ever seen the witch. She didn't like the TV. She
also disliked the washing machine, dishwasher, coffee machine, and any other household
appliance that produced noise.

However, Theo and Blaise settled in. They both looked happier and more relaxed as they
took up the space in what used to be Hermione's parents room and did with it as they pleased.
They were amusing and good company.

Crookshanks, however, still hissed at the three spare snakes and only allowed Hermione and
Malfoy to go near him. Stroppy git.

The house was warm, filled with laughter and joy, and for a while none of them remembered
what was happening beyond the wards as they played game nights together. Hermione
showed them how the TV worked and introduced them to a few movies and TV shows.

Theo particularly enjoyed Only Fools and Horses, constantly quoting Del Boy's lines and
finding it impossible to stop watching. Blaise already knew what it was since his mother was
constantly involved with muggle men. He couldn't understand how they were in the boxed
mirror, so Malfoy kept asking her questions and almost fell over the sofa when she turned it
on.
Observing him utilise the remote control as if it were a magic wand was quite entertaining.
As he lost his temper after trying it and not getting his way, Hermione had to grab it before he
put it through the screen.

Trying to watch the Purebloods settle into a muggle environment was rather amusing but also
so much fun. When Parkinson came out of hibernation yesterday, she had finally asked
Hermione some questions about how each item worked and allowed her to show her, but
Hermione supposed it was just to make small talk and was willing to accept her new premise
in safety.

She didn't seem at all shocked that Hermione was involved with Malfoy now. In fact, none of
them did.

It was as though they had all seen it coming before she had.

Malfoy, for some strange reason and for reasons he wouldn't speak of, was avoiding his
parents. He kept going back to the manor for a few hours in the day, but every time Theo
asked if he had spoken to them, he said no.

Then this morning, Malfoy had given her something that she had never expected.

Pan.

Pan was back, alive, healthy, and now currently curled up asleep on the windowsill in the
shape of a black cat with Crookshanks, who seemed to have accepted him almost right away.
She was so happy to have him back; even if his other body was buried somewhere else, it
was as though he had never died. She'd cried with joy and kissed Malfoy in front of everyone
when he had given him to her, and then Pan had nuzzled into the side of her face in the shape
of a mouse as the snakes and Hermione had played some family games until nightfall had
dawned on them.

And now, she was lying in bed with Malfoy behind her, his arms encircling her and his naked
chest pressing against her back, ensuring her warmth.

"Malfoy?"

"Hm?" He hummed into her hair as he kept tracing runes into her abdomen.

"I can't sleep."

"Then close your eyes."

"They are, and it's not working." She huffed impatiently.

She felt him shift behind her until his face was hovering over hers, and she turned her head to
meet his gaze. "Something bothering you, Granger?" He whispered, brows furrowed in
adorer confusion.

"No...I'm just...I mean--," she stuttered, clearing her throat. "I mean, I--,"
"What?"

Hermione took a deep breath, bravely taking his hand in hers and guiding it down between
her thighs. She then shifted to lie on her back, watching his eyes widen at her intimate
approach, as she placed his hand flat over the evidence of her soaked shorts between her legs.
"Feel." She whispered, her voice hoarse.

He did so as his eyes darkened, dragging his middle finger up her covered centre and keeping
his eyes on hers as he brushed her clit. "What's got you so turned on?" His own voice turned
hoarse as she breathed out a soft moan.

"You." She admitted it easily. "You drive me crazy. And I can't stop thinking about you. I
think you should help me out."

The corner of his lips twitched into a suggestive smirk as he circled her clit lazily while he
dipped his head beside her ear. "Do you want me to make you come so that you can sleep?"
He whispered, his tone almost a purr, as he pressed his lips to her neck, kissing a delicate spot
that sent a warm shiver down her spine.

Hermione gripped his wrist, helping him move as she arched her hips to meet his fingers.
"Please," she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "I can't wait anymore."

Malfoy hushed her as he nipped and kissed up her throat, across her jawline until his lips
enveloped hers in a slow, passionate kiss. Hermione let go of his wrist, spreading her legs
wider for him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, moaning softly against his tongue.

She felt him grow hard against her thigh as he took his time, skating his fingers up the
waistline of her shorts, teasing his fingers around the waistband. He pulled back as he paused,
his eyes heavy and pupils blown wide in arousal as he stared at her.

"Are you sure?" He asked, almost hesitant as he began to withdraw his hand.

Hermione nodded, rolling her hips up into nothing, hoping he would touch her again.

His throat contracted as he swallowed. "If you want me to stop, then you tell me. All right?"

Hermione nodded, closing her fingers around his wrist as she guided his hand to slip
underneath her shorts, resting it against her mound. "Please, Malfoy. Please touch me. I'm
ready."

A sly smirk crossed his lips as he brushed his nose against hers. "On one condition."

She tutted, growing impatient at his teasing. "What?"

"I want you to say my name." A low, predatory growl rumbled from the apex of his chest,
sending tingles up Hermione's spine. Hermione didn't understand, as he kissed each corner of
her mouth. "Don't just say it," he said, planting a kiss on the left side of her mouth. "Scream
it," another kiss, and his hand dipped lower.
Hermione's eyes fluttered shut as his lips left hot kisses across her jawline and up to the shell
of her ear, and his middle finger brushed against her clit. Her back arched, a soft gasp passing
through her lips as she heard the familiar charm of the silencing charm encasing the bed, and
his finger slipped between her folds, collecting her arousal and backing up to swirl around
her clit.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he murmured into her ear, adding more pressure as he took her lobe
between his teeth, his breath heavy as he moaned himself.

"Please, Malfoy." She whimpered, rolling her hips to meet his fingers as she wound her own
through his hair.

Malfoy slipped one finger inside of her, curling it up to his knuckle, but then he suddenly
stopped as he moved back to hover his face over hers. "What did I tell you, Granger?" His
tone was dark and challenging. "My name."

"Draco," she continued in a prayer, rolling her hips in the hopes that he would move.

He sucked in a breath as the grey in his eyes disappeared, replaced with a feral look of
hungry desire as he pressed his thumb to her clit, preparing her. "That's much fucking better."
Then his lips were on hers as he swiped his tongue against her own; his finger moved,
dragging against her walls at the same time.

Hermione's hips undulated, demanding more, craving the fullness of him, and his growl
reverberated in her chest as he added another finger, thrusting them deeper to where she
could never quite reach by herself. She moved on him, lightning thrashing her veins, and her
focus narrowed to his fingers disappearing inside of her, his mouth on hers exploring and
taking each of her pleasurable moans for himself.

She felt him grind his erection against the outside of her thigh as his thumb swiped in
intoxicating circles against her bundle of nerves. Hermione tried to slip her hand underneath
him to feel him, but he grabbed her wrist and pinned it down above her head as he worked his
fingers inside of her, drawing her closer to the edge.

The buildup began in her lower stomach, as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, Draco
everywhere, his lips on her throat, sucking, nipping, soothing as he smoothed his tongue over
the bruise she was sure he had left in his wake. His voice in her ear urged her to shatter on his
fingers as he curled them perfectly, telling her how beautiful she was. He watched her face
for her reaction as she shattered on his hand and threw her head back into the pillow,
clamping her shaking thighs around his wrist to hold him in place as stars burst behind her
eyelids.

"Fuck," he murmured, capturing her lips with his own, stealing his name through her
orgasmic moan, and kissed her as he coaxed her through her orgasm.

Hermione suddenly felt fatigued as he withdrew his hand once she released his wrist and
watched as he popped his fingers into his mouth, eyes locked onto hers and heavy as she
sucked them clean. Her lips parted, a blush running across her cheeks as he released them
with a pop and kissed her one last time, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue.
She groaned into his mouth, exhausted and her head spinning, as he pulled back, hovering his
face over hers, taking her hand in his, wrapping it back around her, entwining their fingers
together.

"Better?" He smirked down at her, laughing softly.

"Loads," she steadied her breathing, and smiled up at him, pleased.

"Good," he kissed her nose and pulled her shorts back on for her as he placed his hand on her
hip, rolled her over, and settled back in behind her, wrapping his arms around her as he
nuzzled his face into her hair.

"What about you?" She asked, unsatisfied that he was aroused and hadn't done anything
about it.

She felt his lips fuse to her hair as his arms tightened around her. "That was all for you. We've
got plenty of time. We don't have to rush anything." He whispered, sighing sleepily. "I can
wait."

Hermione smiled as she closed her eyes, shifting back closer to him to feel his hard, lean
chest pressed up against her back. "Draco?"

"Yes?"

Hermione took a deep breath as she readied herself to say something she wanted him to hear.
"I love you." She whispered, holding her breath, hoping he would say it back.

He didn't.

"I know you do."

She frowned in disappointment as she stared at the wall opposite her. "Aren't you going to
say it back?"

Draco sighed into her hair, clutching her tighter as he screwed his eyes shut tight, swallowing
a thick knot down his throat. He wanted to, but he was scared that if he said it, something was
going to happen to end it before it had even started.

"I am saying it back," he tapped his fingers against her hip. One tap, a pause, four taps, and
then three.

I love you.

Hermione quickly worked it out as he tapped the same code twice against her hip. She smiled
and took his hand in hers, pressing his fingers to her lips. "I love you." She whispered against
the pads of his fingers.

He repeated the same action in his own code-filled response, but this time it took longer.
 One tap, a pause, four taps, another pause, then three and then eight taps against her hip with
his index finger. Her breath hitched as she realised what he had just said; for whatever reason,
he wouldn't say it out loud but was using his own code to show that he felt the same way
about her as she did about him.

I love you, Hermione.

Chapter End Notes

Any further smut will be fade to black i haven't decided if they will cross that barrier
yet, since they're still of school age but we all know teenagers fool around and do
foreplay at that age and I know some are uncomfortable that's why I kept it minimal.

Regardless I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I shall reply when I can 🥰🥰🫶🫶
 Chapter 13
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Malfoy Manor 9th January 1998-

"Sit." Lucius demanded to his son, snapping his fingers, taking a seat on his settee next to his
wife.

Draco's jaw tightened as he sat down opposite his parents, resting his ankle across his knee
and his fist pressed into his lips.

"Whisky?" asked Lucius as Topsy poured him a glass.

Draco declined. "No, thank you, Father. I don't intend to stay long. I've got somewhere I need
to be."

Narcissa sat with her back straight, eyeing her boys as Draco glared at his father, and her
husband took his time swirling his amber liquid in his glass. She gently cleared her throat,
folded her hands into her lap, and attempted to draw her husband's attention.

It didn't work.

"Ahem." She spoke more loudly, and Lucius met her gaze, raising a brow as he paused his sip
of whisky. Narcissa then not so subtly inclined her head towards their son, who was looking
more and more impatient as the minutes ticked by.

Lucius nodded once silently and made eye contact with Draco. "Now, Draco. There's a few
things we need to discuss."

Draco only blinked at him as though he was bored of this already.

"Your mother and I have noticed that you keep disappearing at ungodly hours. Ignoring me
when I contact you and hiding Theo in your warded room before the holidays."

Draco shrugged one lazy shoulder. "Theo wanted out of Hogwarts. It's no big deal." He
sneered, fiddling with his cufflinks to keep himself busy.

"And we agree that he's better off out of the castle, as are your friends that I know you've
hidden, because Snape owled me asking if I and your mother knew of Pansy and Blaise's
whereabouts," he clipped, sloshing his whisky around in his glass. "You don't have to tell me;
I understand you're just looking after your friends."

Draco's eyes rolled impatiently as he placed his hand back on the side of his face, glaring at
him once again.
"Draco, no slouching. You'll end up with a sore back," Narcissa chastised him softly. She
gestured, feathering her hand up to get him to sit as she had taught him to do.

He grunted, shifting on the settee to straighten his posture, and folded his arms across his
chest, wondering where this conversation was going to go, bouncing his eyes between his
parents.

Lucius cleared his throat. "Although, Theo and your friends aren't my biggest concern for
requesting to speak to you this morning."

"Then what do you want?" Draco drawled. "I haven't got all morning. I'm quite occupied, and
my presence is essential today."

"Doing what?"

"None of your business," he curled his lip up into a sneer, staring at him through hooded lids.

"Could it possibly have something to do with Miss Granger?" Lucius enquired, closely
observing his response.

Draco narrowed his eyes into thin slits as he clenched his fist in his lap. "No."

"Really?" With a tone of amusement, Lucius gazed at his wife. "Funny that, isn't it, dear?
Because I could have sworn that I saw her kneazle about a week ago licking his manlyhood
on our son's bed between the crack in the door."

"Mm, yes," Narcissa agreed, catching the way Draco's face fell out of the corner of her eyes.
"I have to say, I was quite surprised to see him there. Then I saw Theo glaring at it and
slamming the door shut in a strop with three scratch marks down his face. Interesting
indeed."

Theo! I'm going to murder you! Draco yelled at him in his head.

It was a straightforward task. All he had to do was keep his door shut to stop them from
looking in. Salazar, that kid never bloody listens to him.

"So what I would like to know is, Draco," Lucius paid his attention back to his very pale,
anxious son in front of him. "Why did you have Miss Granger's kneazle in your room? And
don't bother lying," he stopped him as Draco went to protest. "You forget that I've seen that
witch around Diagon Alley with him, and I know exactly what he looks like. So speak."

Draco ran a hand through his hair, glancing at his mother briefly for her help to hopefully end
this conversation. Of course, unlucky for him, she didn't waver. His mother raised one
perfectly shaped dark brow at him in a warning and slotted her eyes to Lucius, then back to
Draco. Her gaze was intense, which made him squirm.

He was ashamed to admit it, but he always cowered under her warning gaze. Took him back
to the days when he was a boy and causing havoc with Theo and Blaise around the manor,
and all three of them would accidentally break something precious of hers. She never hit him,
mind you, but her anger whenever he was in trouble made him terrified of her.
That mother look that said,Tell me the truth, and you won't be in so much trouble.

Draco gave in, shifting in his seat as he tugged at his tie, swallowed the lump down his throat
three times as his mouth was suddenly dry, and took a sharp breath in through his nose.

Then the truth spilt out of him like word vomit as though someone had drugged him with
veritaserum, and he couldn't stop himself from telling them absolutely everything.

Draco explained that Hermione had been the one to save his life that night in the bathroom.
Hermione had hidden his mark for him and stayed by his side more often than she should
have, humming to him at his bedside. Although he still didn't know how she had figured it
out, he told them that she was the reason he and Narcissa were still alive.

Narcissa looked completely gobsmacked, overwhelmed, and emotional all at once for her
bravery in an effort to save them both.

He moved on as she started crying delicately, with her hand to her chest in awe as he
explained what he had been doing since Dumbledore's death.

Creating Pan, going to see her at the wedding, the mirror, which they were both horrified
about, and mentioned that it was slightly creepy but understood completely. Then all of his
trips back and forth to her house in Hampstead—the kneazle—to see Hermione, sending her
food and protecting her. Their conversations and kisses. He was assisting her with her tasks,
but he refrained from providing extensive details because he didn't fully trust his father to
convey everything.

Then he explained about Theo, Pansy, and Blaise and where they were now. He recounted
how he had permitted Theo to monitor her while he was out of the country, and then saved
her life by eliminating all the snatchers and Greyback once he had revealed himself.

By the time he finished, he was exhausted, yet he experienced a profound sense of relief as he
finally revealed the truth to them.

And honestly, he was quite taken aback by their reactions.

Narcissa was crying in gratitude, warmth, and her eyes sparkling with gracious love-filled
tears, and his father was...smiling? And not a sneering smile; it was a proper smile. The smile
conveyed his immense happiness, as if he owed Hermione's life for what she had done for
Draco.

"Miss Granger did all that for you?" Lucius asked, his tone warm and happy.

"Yes."

"Do you love her, Draco?" He asked, searching his face.

Draco swallowed. "Yes, I do." He admitted. "And if you can't accept her, that's fine; I don't
expect you to, and I don't expect you to be happy with me about it, but I am asking you to
keep your mouth shut because--"
"You have my blessing." Lucius interjected swiftly.

Draco furrowed his brows in confusion. Where was the lecture? Where were the blood purity
rules that associated him with his father and everything he was above? Why was he smiling
at him like that as though it was the best news he had ever heard in his life? Why wasn't he
yelling at him and threatening to disinherit him and kick him out of the manor? Where was
the man that Draco once knew?

He didn't understand.

"What?" That was all Draco could say.

Narcissa wrapped her slim fingers around Lucius's wrist, crossing her leg over her knee as
she smoothed her smokey grey robes out. "Darling, we've been suspicious of a girl's
involvement since your return from school," she said. "Things were telling us it was Miss
Granger, and now we want you to be happy." She smiled graciously, full of love.

Draco once again didn't know what to say. This wasn't what he expected if they discovered
his secret life with Hermione. To be honest, he half expected them to banish him from the
family line, as Andromeda had been years ago for marrying a muggle man. He didn't expect
his mother to react inhumanly about it, but his father—well, Draco expected the worst
reaction.

Curses, a punishment, to be called a failure, blood traitor, and all that crap that came with it in
this family line.

But no.

He was giving him his blessing and looking at Draco with a sense of pride, adoration, and
overall the look of a proud father towards his son for finding his soulmate.

Draco had rarely seen something like this on his normally hard, poised face.

"You're not mad at me?" He asked, and his voice was tame.

"Of course not," Lucius stood and crossed the room to him, limping on his cane as he came to
stand beside him and settled his hand on his shoulder. "I know that I've not been the best
father to you over the years. The mark, my detached behaviour, and the lessons I've imparted
to you are all part of my legacy. But I love you, Draco. And there's more important things in
life than whether or not my son is in love with a witch who has muggle blood running
through her veins." He spoke sincerely as he looked down at him.

Draco's mouth threatened to break into a smile, but he couldn't help but feel as though he was
dreaming. He couldn't shake the feeling that it was some sort of trick.

Lucius caught the way he was looking at him. Distrusting. "I know that you don't trust me,
and you have every right not to. But, Draco, all I want is for my family and my son to be
happy as much as he can be during these dark times. If Miss Granger is your future, then so
be it. I will happily support you and her for whatever you need, as shall your mother."
Draco, feeling overwhelmed by a nauseating emotion he wasn't quite accustomed to, looked
to his mother for confirmation. She gave him a warm nod with her ocean blue eyes.

Draco exhaled deeply as he looked back at his father. "Thank you, Father."

~♡~

Hampstead-

"Theo!" Draco bellowed as he stepped back through the floo, scowling at the empty lounge
room. "Get your scrawny arse out here!"

A jumble of laughter erupted from the kitchen, so he followed it, scowling the entire time, as
he walked through the archway and found Pansy and Hermione sharing a bowl of ice cream
together at the kitchen island. Pan and Crooks are playing with a magic-crafted ball of wool,
and Theo and Blaise are sitting up on the kitchen counter play fighting with Blaise having
Theo in a headlock.

"What?" Theo rasped, his head at a crooked angle, his face suddenly a scarlet red from
Blaise's death grip.

Draco's hands balled at his sides as all eyes turned to him. "What did I say about keeping my
bedroom door closed to prevent Mother and Father from peering in on the beast?" He
gestured to Crookshanks lying on his back on the floor underneath Pansy's seat.

"Um," his green eyes darted around as he tried to wiggle himself out of Blaise's hold but
choked as he did so. "To keep it shut? Blaise, get off!" He finally ducked out of his hold,
shoving him off the counter to rub at his alarming red and bruised neck.

"Pussy," Blaise scowled at him, righting himself.

Theo stuck his tongue out at him, massaging the base of his throat. "What's the problem,
Draco?" He sighed as he glanced at him.

Draco flattened his palms on the island, glaring at Theo with such intensity that it was a
wonder he didn't catch fire at that moment. "Mother and father cornered me when I went to
get some fresh clothes, and instead they told me that they saw the beast on my bed through
the crack in the door. Thanks to you, they now possess complete knowledge of what I've been
doing, even down to the smallest detail." He clenched his teeth.

Hermione paled, dropping her spoon into her bowl and staring up at Draco, wide-eyed at his
furious face. "They know about me?"

"Yes, they do."

Pansy arched one brow, eyeing Draco with a narrowed expression. "And how did they
react?"

Draco looked at her with a haughty expression. "They're fine. Perfect, splendid. Filled with
immense joy and happiness! As the muggles say, everything is going well. Proud of me and
wish me nothing but the best with my future with Granger."

That confused everyone right away. Theo's head cocked to the right as he swung his legs
back and forth. Blaise was scratching his chin, like an old wizard about to cast a complicated
spell. Pansy and Hermione just shared an incredulous look between them as all eyes landed
back on Draco, but he looked furious instead of pleased.

"I don't get it," Theo started slowly. "Your face is saying you want to kill me, but what you
just said didn't sound as mortifying as you made me believe before you said that."

"I didn't want them to know that's the point!"

"But they're fine with it," Blaise pointed it out to him, though his tone was laced with
confusion. "I think you're overreacting." He snorted, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl
and tossing it between his hands.

"I get that," he snapped in irritation. "But the point is, I don't trust my father, Blaise!
Although he looked sincere, he wasn't letting me leave until I spoke the truth." He took a
deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he closed his eyes, swearing under his breath.

"What exactly did your father say, Draco?" Pansy huffed, folding her arms over her chest and
swivelling on her stool.

"He supports me and wishes me and Granger nothing but the best," he muttered under his
breath. His features were stressed, his hair looked mussed, and he bowed his head, pressing
his chin to his chest. "That he loves me and all that bollocks."

"Well, did he threaten Hermione in any way, or did he threaten to disinherit you or banish you
from the family?" Theo asked, arching one brow.

Hermione looked at the side of his face as he kept his eyes shut. She knew it was difficult for
him, coming from a family that detests her very being and everything that she was. Not to
mention the fact that she was one of Harry's best friends; she had punched Draco all those
years ago, and Draco was second behind her in all of their subjects, particularly potions, and
Lucius Malfoy didn't like that being the head of the school board.

Hermione could still remember the filthiest look he had given her that day when Lucius had
handed Ginny the diary of Tom Riddle in Flourish and Blotts as though she was a
flobberworm that belonged squashed under the heel of his shoe. She couldn't fathom the
difficulty Draco was facing in trusting his father, especially with Voldemort still in power.

Regardless of his location, he was always present.

"No," he answered Theo finally in a low whisper. "No, he didn't threaten her."
Hermione and Theo both sighed in relief as she placed her hand on his arm. "Why don't we
go for a walk and talk?"

Draco looked at her, then through hooded lids. "We have to go to Xenophellius's house,
remember?"

"That can wait another day." She smiled up at him. "Come on, there's an open, stretched
country road around the back that we can walk around near the lake. Let's just take a break
from the war for a moment and talk. Okay?"

Draco's jaw set, an agitated tension settling around his eyes as he went to protest, but Theo
cleared his throat loudly, gaining his attention. He looked up at him, and Theo jutted his chin
towards Hermione in a silent go-on motion. Draco, without saying anything, sighed through
his nose, grabbed Hermione's hand, and pulled her out of the kitchen towards the front door.

"Pan! Come with us just in case!" Draco called back to him while Hermione put on her ankle
boots, beaded bag and grey coat.

Pan shook himself still in his black cat body, stretched, and yawned, nuzzling his head
against Crookshanks. "Back soon, Crooksie." He chirped, galloping after them, then
transformed himself into a raven, landing on Hermione's shoulder.

Theo shook his head, tutting, as he watched all three of them walk out and the door softly
click shut behind Hermione. "Stress head, isn't he?"

"Can't blame him," Pansy said, finishing off her rocky road ice cream. "He's barely had a
chance to rest since he got that dark mark."

"Maybe we should help out more," Blaise suggested, while seated next to Pansy. "With the
Horcruxes, I mean. Take the pressure off, with just Draco and Hermione doing it altogether.
He's done this for us; we could chip in and be useful."

"Good idea," Theo hopped off the counter, grinning at him. "I'll head back to Malfoy Manor
to see if I can find anything in his library. I won't be long." He sauntered off down the
hallway and disappeared through the floor.

Blaise turned to face Pansy, resting his forearms across in front of him, eyeing the side of her
face and smiling softly. "I'm really glad that you and Hermione are getting along. Draco was
worried that you weren't going to get along."

Pansy shrugged her shoulder, a small smile playing on her red lips. "She's not that bad.
Underneath that snotty brain of hers, she's a lovely witch and kind, helpful, and supportive.
Though," she stabbed her spoon into her ice cream, a scowl formed on her face. "I can't say
I'll be very pleasant to Weasley when I get a hold of him for almost killing Draco and then
abandoning Granger to be killed. No matter what you three might have done behind my back,
I would never do that to you." She scoffed around her mouthful.

Blaise agreed, looking down at his hands, rubbing his palms together. "Yeah, that's not a
friend. Funny how things turned out, isn't it?"
"Mm," she hummed around her next mouthful, roving her eyes around the kitchen. "Never
thought I'd see that day that Draco and Granger are together. Or me, on a friendly level with
her, staying in her home." She looked back at Blaise, shrugging. "Life is full of surprises,
Zabini."

"That it is Parkinson," he chuckled, clinking his cup of coffee against her bowl. "Wonder
what's going to happen next."

"Hopefully, everyone makes it out of this alive by the end."

"Me too."

~♡~

Hermione-

Hermione and Draco headed back towards her house after walking around the backcountry
road, with a lake attached to the forest on the other side for the past hour. They had barely
said anything the entire time.

They were just walking, taking in the scenery together, hand in hand, their fingers laced
together, almost swinging between their bodies. He seemed to have calmed down as they
walked around the area, his eyes taking in every detail of the trees, the road, the fishing lake,
and the forest behind it. Even offering a polite hello to a fellow muggle gentleman walking
his golden lab, it almost toppled Draco to the ground as it pounced at him in excitement.

The light January wind caused his hair to dance beautifully. His features became less tense as
he continued to squeeze her hand, as if he needed confirmation that she was still there.

Pan was having so much fun. When they had gotten closer to the lake, he had transformed
himself into a fish and had so much fun, flying up and nosediving it back down into the
water, flapping his black fins happily.

Hermione couldn't stop looking at the side of Draco's face. She couldn't help but smile as she
observed him. He was like a mixture of autumn, winter, and spring all at once.

At first, he felt warm, but his mood swings reflected the first days of autumn, when the leaves
would die out and lie lonely on the ground. His mood conveyed the conclusion of summer
and the impending arrival of winter. Then his hair reminded her of winter. His hair was as
soft and white as snow, and his eyes mirrored the gloomy day of a snowstorm, piercing the
sharpness of ice. At times, his speech evoked the image of icicles, cascading down the
house's pipes in furious, frozen drops.

Sharp, cruel, and jagged enough to kill but would melt into relaxing trickling water, flow
streams.

But his skin—his pale alabaster skin, as smooth as an eggshell—was always warm and
reminded her of the first few days of spring. His skin was as inviting, beautiful, and gentle as
the first daffodils blooming through the snow and ice to welcome the fast approach of
summer.

On the outside, Draco looked like a weapon. On the outside, Draco appeared nasty and
intimidating, capable of killing you with a single wrong word, but on the inside, he was as
soft as a feathered pillow.

Caring, protective, and full of love, he was too afraid to show.

As they approached the shimmer of her warded home by the entrance of her driveway, Draco
pulled her to a stop and turned her so that her back was facing the wards and him right in
front of her, while Pan disappeared through the wards.

"Granger, I'm sorry."

"For what?" She whispered, her brows furrowing slightly.

Draco's throat contracted as he swallowed, taking his hands in hers, smoothing his thumbs
over her knuckles. "For not saying it back." His voice dropped low as he looked at their
hands.

"I don't understand?" Hermione said in slight confusion.

"I do— I really, really do." He met her eyes, and that's when she caught a slight fear in his
eyes. "I'm just...I'm afraid that, if I say it, something terrible is going to happen. This fear
stems from the fact that it consistently occurs. No matter how far we get and how well things
seem to go between us, something happens, and it gets ruined."

"What are you trying to tell me? What are you talking about?"

"I love you," he rushed out, his chest heaving slightly, and she froze for a moment. "I love
you, I do. And I'm sorry I didn't say it back last night but used a code instead. It's taken me a
while to accept what loving someone means, and I never intended for it to happen. This
wasn't what I had in mind, but it's too late, and I don't regret it. I want you to know that." He
raised her hands to his chest, flattening her palms as he held his own on top of hers to keep
her there.

Hermione's heart soared, emotional tears welling in her eyes. "Draco, I know dealing with
emotions isn't your strongest trait, but I know you love me. You don't have to say it out loud."
She shook her head.

"No, I know," he nodded quickly, wetting his lips. "But, it's not the first time I've told you
that."

"What do you mean?"

Draco seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown as he guided one of her hands to rest against
the side of his own face and leaned into her touch, staring deeply into her eyes. His fingers
wrapped around hers, tightening them, as though he were afraid she was going to vanish right
before him.
"Every time we met up and I was hiding and you said you hated me, you destroyed me in
some way that I can't comprehend or even thought that I would care, but I did, Granger. It
hurt so much. That's why I hid, because I knew you would never accept me for all of the
awful things I have said and done to you in the past." He took a deep, shaky breath, his voice
cracking. "Hiding was easier, but I wanted to save you. I never deserved your kindness, and I
want you to know that despite our past, you're the only one for me. I need you, Granger. I
need you as much as I need air. I feel like, for the first time since I got the mark, I can finally
breathe."

Hermione choked on a soft sob at his heartfelt confession, words stuck coiling around her
tongue, but he wasn't finished.

"I thought that was the end for me," he whispered in complete vulnerability. "I thought my
life was over, and when Potter struck me, I truly wanted to die," he said. "But then, when I
saw you and you were hiding my mark, I felt less alone. Indeed, I had Theo and the others by
my side," he said with a soft laugh. So sweetly, she wanted to hear it again. "But, I've always
had them, and I never had you. You're the missing piece I've needed, and I love you.
Hermione, I told you i loved you when--."

Hermione's lips parted as Draco suddenly stopped, his eyes blowing wide slightly and a
choking gargle cutting him off mid-sentence. He held his breath, his eyes locked onto hers,
growing wider by the second as though he were in pain. His mouth trembled, as if he was
trying to speak, but all he could manage was a gurgled splutter.

"Draco? Are you all right?" Hermione searched his eyes, his hands trembling violently
against hers on the side of his face and the one clasped against the right-hand side of his
chest.

Then, Draco shakily looked down, and his eyes significantly grew wider as though he was
seeing something he couldn't quite believe.

Hermione didn't understand as he kept choking on a pained gasp, and then terror swept
through her when she looked down with him.

A violent cry of a scream was lodged in her throat as she caught the sharp end of the sword of
Gryffindor, impaled, drenched in thick blood right through Draco's chest, inches away from
scraping against Hermione's own chest. She couldn't breathe, as Draco didn't move or breathe
himself, hyperventilating on a terrified cry as the sword was suddenly pulled back through
his body nastily out of his back, and Draco slumped forward, his knees weak. Hermione
grasped his towering frame, encircling him with her arms as he fell to the ground, guiding her
into the wards and away from his attacker.

"Draco! Draco!" Hermione rolled him onto his back, cradling his head in her lap as he placed
his hands over his wound, his chest heaving violently. "No, no, no. Please!" Hermione cried
as his eyes screwed shut and dropped his head back onto her thighs. "Draco, stay with me,
please!"

"F--fuck--," was all he managed to choke out, opening up his eyes to look at her face as his
face suddenly grew an alarmingly pale.
"Hold on, hold on; okay, I'm going to fix this." Hermione quickly grabbed her wand from her
back pocket and held it over his wound. Her breathing was unsteady as her hand shook as she
tried to close it. But no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't close, and his blood flow was
increasing rapidly between his fingers.

"It's not working!" She screamed, tears streaming down her face. "Why isn't it—who?!"
Hermione looked up to see who had attacked him, and betrayal froze in her veins as she saw
the person holding the sword, smeared with Draco's blood.

Ron.

Ron stood on the other side of the wards, staring at where they were, the sword limp in his
hand by his side. His features were cruel and dark, his eyes spaced out and almost black in
fury.

Hermione was suddenly filled with fury, intending to curse him until his eyes bled, but he
abruptly dropped the sword into a thick pool of blood and snapped away before she could
inflict any damage. She started sobbing, her entire body shaking in shattered fear and betrayal
as she paid her attention to Draco who was staring up at her, with no longer a look of pain,
but a look of acceptance across his features.

"Draco, I'm so sorry," Hermione sobbed quietly, taking his face in her hands. "I can't close it;
I'm so sorry. It won't work."

"It's...it's okay...," he panted weakly, a soft smile on his lips as his eyes grew heavy. "N-not
your f-fault."

Hermione shook her head, gripping the sides of his face. "No, no, I'm going to save you.
There's got to be another way. I can save you, I promise." Despite her voice trembling, she
spoke with determination.

"Hermione...it's…okay," he weakly placed his blood-smeared palm over hers. "It doesn't
hurt."

Hermione choked on a heartbroken sob. "Don't say that," she whispered. "Don't you dare say
that." She quickly looked up at the house. "Th-Theo," her voice came out weaker than she
had intended. "Theo, Blaise! H-help me! Please, someone help me!" She sobbed violently
towards the house, hoping they could hear her.

Hermione kept stroking his face, trying to keep him warm as he dangerously started to grow
cold under her touch. She looked back down at him as his eyes started to flutter shut, fighting
to stay open. His breaths were raspy, sharp, and weak as a trickle of blood seeped from the
corner of his mouth.

"Please, Draco," she pressed her forehead to his. "Please, I can't lose you. Not now; we've
only just begun."

"I love you..." he said instead in an airy whisper. "D-don't do…anything

reckless...remember?"
Hermione shook her head against his. "Don't say that. Don't say goodbye to me; I'm not
ready. You promised you weren't going to leave me." She was trying; she was trying so hard
to stay strong, but she could feel him slipping away.

"It...was...always...going...to end—this way...we knew that," his fingers started to loosen

around hers, and then the door swung open; Pan was by her side, in an instant in the shape of
a wolf.

Hermione heard hurried footsteps; someone was gasping, someone was cursing, and someone
else was screaming at her to find out what had happened, but she couldn't hear them. They
were far away, as a buzzing ringing tone pitched through her ears.

"I'm not ready," Hermione whispered, as the tears fell down her face. "You can't be ready,
Draco. I need you to stay with me."

"Hermione, what happened?!" Theo was down by their sides pulling out his wand to close his
wound, but it didn't work as she predicted. "Talk to me! Who did this?!" He angrily
demanded a medical bag and tried to give Draco everything that could possibly help him
heal, but nothing seemed to slow his bleeding or close his deep wound.

Hermione met his wide, terrified green eyes and shuddered a breath. "Ron. Ron stabbed him
when his back was turned," she whispered through her tears and couldn't bear to see the pain
on Theo's face as she looked back down at Draco.

He was almost gone, his eyes almost shut as he grew limp in her hold.

"Draco, please!" She screamed as she saw Pansy and Blaise sink down beside her out of the
corner of her eye. "Please, you can't leave me! We have so much to do, things to achieve."
She looked up at the three snakes, crowding them. "Don't just sit there; do something and
help him!" She screamed at them.

"Hermione, it won't close." Theo whispered, hoarsely applying pressure with both hands,
staring at Draco's face. "Don't leave us, mate. We need you." His jaw trembled. His voice
broke.

"Th-theo, l--look after her...," he panted, as he fought to keep himself awake.

Theo shook his head, refusing to accept what was happening. "Don't talk like that. We're
going to help you, I promise." He knew it was impossible, but he had to have hope, right?

Draco managed a glare as he felt himself shutting down. Death creeping up on him, causing
his limbs to suddenly go numb. "Do...as...I...say...you...swore...it. Don't...let...me down." He
pushed it with all his might.

Theo could only nod as tears slid down his cheeks, applying harder pressure. "I promise...I
promise…" he whispered so that only Draco could hear him as his blood pooled between his
fingers.
"Draco, please," Hermione sniffed harshly, guiding him to look at her as she pressed her
forehead against his, their noses touching. "Please, you can't go. I love you." She choked
against his lips.

"I...love..."

"Say it, please say it." She begged, looking deep into his shallow eyes.

Draco managed to tilt his head to press his cold lips against hers. Hermione pressed her lips
harder to his, sobbing against his lips as a salty tear slipped down her face and melted
between their lips.

She felt his words against her lips as he slipped away from her.

"I…," one shallow breath, "love...," another barely there, "you...," so soft she barely felt it,
"Hermione...."

Then she felt it as his final breath passed through his lips around her name, straight against
her lips, as he went still in her arms. Hermione didn't move as his lips stopped pressing
against hers, and she felt his hand slip from hers, down to his side.

And then the magic he had transported into her back at the wedding faded and lifted. She felt
it disconnect from her veins, breaking them apart in a cold wave running all across her nerves
and muscles as the spell lifted, no longer attached to one another.

Back to how it used to be.

Apart.

"No! No!" Pansy screamed in a heartbroken cry as Hermione pulled away, tears blinding her
vision as she looked down at Draco's relaxed face.

"FUCK!" Theo yelled beside her in gut-wrenching agony, and Blaise was quiet the entire
time as he grabbed onto a hysterical Pansy, pulling her into his arms.

He looked so peaceful as he lay there in her lap, his eyes closed and his brows relaxed,
showing no signs of pain, just peace.

Hermione carefully guided his head to the ground as she lay down on her side and pressed
her ear to his heart that no longer beat. Without shame, she cried into his chest and turned her
face into his still chest, crying through her heartbroken screams, fisting her hand into a white-
knuckled grip into his white, blood-soaked Oxford shirt.

Hermione was unsure of the duration of her stay, as Pansy sobbed so intensely that it caused
her to feel sick. Blaise had silent tears running down his face trying to calm Pansy down as
he stared at Draco with a broken look, and Theo was punching and kicking Hermione's front
door to pieces, but she didn't care. All she cared about and wanted was for Draco to open his
eyes. She desired to hear the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear.

The longer she stared at his still face, the more she knew he was gone and not coming back.
Then, as she cried, her tears suddenly turned into furious rage the longer she stared at him,
and she sat up, continuing to keep her eyes on her dead lover.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" Blaise whispered, catching the sudden darkness that washed
over her features, her hands, coat, and face drenched in Draco's blood.

Hermione remained silent, clenching her jaw as she bent over Draco, took his face in her
hands, and gently brushed his cheekbones. "I know you said not to do anything reckless, but
I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you this time." She whispered as she dipped her
head and pressed her lips to his still ones, holding them there for several seconds. "I will
avenge you. I promise, Draco." She murmured against his lips. "I promise to complete the
tasks at hand. I love you."

Taking one last deep, brave breath, her eyes puffy and her nose stuffy, she pulled away from
him, standing to her full height as she looked at the three remaining snakes, staring at her
with worried, bloodshot eyes.

"Take care of Crookshanks for me," Hermione said in a voice that sounded nothing like her.

Theo's brows furrowed as he cradled his broken split knuckled hand. "What are you doing?"
He forced it out through his trembling jaw, taking a hesitant step closer to her.

Hermione slowly withdrew her wand from her coat pocket as she looked at them through
hooded lids. "Clean him up and then take him to Narcissa and Lucius for them to say
goodbye." Her voice was cold and unforgiving. "Be careful with him; don't hurt him. I'd like
to say goodbye when I return."

Theo shook his head at her, pressing his lips into a thin line. "No, he may be gone, but I made
a promise, and I intend to stick to it. You're not going anywhere unless I say so; besides, I can
find you." He went to stop her, but Hermione immobilised all three of them to stop them from
stopping her.

Theo froze mid-step, his eyes wide, locked on hers, a silent plea in them.

Hermione beckoned Pan to her side, and he did, his hackles rising, matching her grief-filled
mood. "The magic Draco instilled in me has vanished, Theo. It's gone, just like he is. You
won't be able to locate me; I'll return once this task is complete. I'm sorry," she turned away,
sobbing quietly one last time as she looked at Draco and clenched her jaw, stepping through
the wards towards the sword still on the floor, dripping in fresh blood.

She bent down and picked it up, anger crawling under her skin for the man she once
considered her best friend, and tightened her fingers around the silver brass handle, as she
didn't look back and apparated away from her home—from Draco, from Crooks, from
everything he had done for her.

Hermione landed in a heartbroken crack in the middle of a forest that she didn't recognise,
and she blankly stared across the clearing while silent tears streaked her face, cleaning
Draco's blood from her face.
Pan came up beside her, nuzzling his face into her thigh and whining softly.

Hermione clutched the sword to her chest, her breaths stuttering as her world crumbled
around her.

He was gone. Draco was gone; she was never going to see his face, hear his voice, feel his
hands, his arms, his warm body, or even see those beautiful eyes she wished had stayed open
for a tiny bit longer.

It was all gone, and it was all Ron's fault.

"Hermione?"

Hermione's breath hitched as she recognised the uncertain voice behind her.

"Hermione, is that you?"

Hermione slowly turned around and found Harry eyeing her closely but wearily, his wand
fixed and drawn, angled up slightly. He studied her from head to toe for a few moments, and
then a wash of relief flooded his face, and he began crossing the clearing to her, arms ready to
hug her.

"Harry." She broke down, dropping the sword to the leaves as she ran towards him and threw
her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder.

"Thank Godric, you're okay!" He hugged her tighter, but his brows furrowed as he pulled
back and darted his eyes all over her, taking her sobbing face into his hands. "Hermione,
what's happened to you? Whose blood is that? Are you hurt?"

Hermione shook her head, her mouth opening and closing to speak, but words failed her as
another heartbroken sob ripped its way from her throat.

"Hermione, talk to me," he pleaded with her, trying to catch her gaze. "Breathe and calm
down. If this is about what you did, I don't care; just tell me what happened."

"H-he's dead," she whispered in a strangled choke.

Harry's brows knitted together closer, flicking his eyes across her features. "Who's dead?
Who are you talking about?"

"Draco," Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, struggling to breathe as she placed her hand to
her chest. "Draco. He's dead! Harry, he's dead!" She shouted through her tears.

Harry's breath hitched sharply as he swallowed. "H-how? I thought...he was taking care of
you, wasn't he? Was he the one coming by to see you?" She only nodded slowly in response.
"What happened? How did--"

"Ron," she suddenly clenched her teeth, anger flaring in her eyes. "Ron killed him with the
sword of Gryffindor...Harry...I...God, it hurts so much!" She pressed her hand into her chest
harder as her knees buckled, and she dragged Harry down to the ground with her harshly.
 Harry pulled her into his arms as she screamed in agony in his chest. He flinched as he
encircled his arms around her, pressing his lips into her hair.

"It's okay," he whispered into her hair as he soothed his hand up and down her back. "It's
okay, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere again, I promise." He closed his eyes as she clung to
him and sobbed into his chest until she passed out from the exhaustion of it, slumping against
him.

Harry held her for a long time, rocking her gently, while Pan laid his head in her lap, whining
in grief.

All the while, Harry gazed across the clearing, his thoughts racing rapidly about what could
have happened to Ron two days ago when they had split up and how Harry had discovered
the stolen sword, sufficient enough to kill Draco Malfoy with ease.

Chapter End Notes

Trust me, just trust me okay?

I promise that this isn't the end of their story, still a bit to go and check the tags and
you'll understand what they mean.

I'm so sorry, if you hate me right now but I promise i shall make it all better.

*I say as I currently throw my phone across the room*

And no I can assure you before I get the comments that i copied Emerald Slytherin it's
not like that at all, this is different and wildly different compared to that ending.

Also if you've got nothing nice to say to me, then don't comment. Whilst you're allowed
to no longer enjoy it I didn't appreciate that comment in my last chapter, if you're not
enjoying it quietly leave I won't be offended that way.

We writers do this for fun and for us and we love to share it for you, hoping you'll enjoy
it too, but the negativity I don't welcome. I've grown incredibly tired of it, on my last
few stories I won't put up with it on this one too.

Thank you to those that have been so kind, enjoying the ride your warm love filled

🫶
comments are much appreciated and adored by me I appreciate you all, even if you
despise me right now
 Chapter 14
Chapter Notes

My song throughout this chapter that I listened to was-

"Our last summer," by abba. It helped me walk through the characters emotions of Theo
and Narcissa.

It was hard but I did it and I hope you'll love me by the time you get to the bottom 🖤
See the end of the chapter for more notes

Hampstead-

The moment Hermione and Pan vanished with a harsh, devastating crack, Theo, Pansy, and
Blaise found themselves unfrozen. Theo stumbled forward clumsily in his midstep to stop
her, and he put both hands on his hair, running them through it slowly.

He swore under his breath, his gaze locked on where Hermione once stood, and then he
caught the moment; Draco's wards around the house crumbled around them. A gust of wind
rushed through them, howling lightly as it faded away. The last of his magic vanished from
existence.

Theo didn't know what to do. He didn't know where she had gone, what she was going to do,
or how she was going to cope. He knew he certainly wasn't whilst his best friend--his
brothers body was right next him. He allowed the silent drained tears to fall down his face,
his eyes far away on the fresh pool of blood, where the sword had once been.

"I—I can't look at him like that a-anymore," Pansy choked out, and Theo heard her running
footsteps depart back into the house.

Theo swallowed the lump in his throat, his lip trembling. What was going to happen now?
Where were they going to go? Could they still stay here? What was he going to tell Draco's
parents? He didn't know, and he was dreading having to pass along the news that their son,
whom they had only spoken to an hour ago, was now dead.

Narcissa was going to be fucking devastated and distraught. They both were. He just hoped
that they wouldn't blame Hermione for it.

Theo heard Blaise shift to stand behind him, sniffing and shuddering a heavy exhale. "Theo?
Theo, we need to get him inside." He whispered hoarsely.

Theo didn't answer him, his feet frozen to the ground as he looked down at Draco's legs out
of the corners of his eyes. One stretched out in front of him, the other bent inwards at an
angle, his ankle resting underneath his calf. His tears welled as he watched him, hoping he
would see a twitch or anything to suggest that this was just a nightmare.

He was certain that this was not real. But the longer he stared at Draco's legs, hoping to see
him move, nothing happened. He was dead, and it hadn't quite sunk in for him yet.

Theo's hands hurt; he knew he had sprained something as he had watched the moment
Draco's grasp had limply slipped from Hermione's and fallen to the floor. He'd just known he
was gone and lost it, needing to hit something.

Draco kept saying it. He had been so sure and certain of it. He had come to terms with his
fate. He'd been saying for months that he was either going to come out of this one way or
another.

Dead or in Azkaban.

And Theo hadn't listened to him. He hadn't believed him, not once. He just presumed he was
saying that to make himself feel as though he didn't deserve a chance to have a life once this
would be over, if it would ever end.

However, Theo would have preferred his life to be in Azkaban.

It was better than never hearing his voice again.

Theo felt as though someone had stabbed him through his chest.

Draco was his best friend. He viewed Draco as the brother he had never had before.

Yes, they bickered, and Draco liked to make fun of him, pick on him, crack jokes, or get
pissed off with him. But it's what brothers did, wasn't it? Jab at one another, fight, and tease
until they stopped talking for a few hours, but overall Draco had always been there. He
provided a comforting presence when his father's beatings and hatred towards him became
overwhelming. He had been there when Theo's mother had died, letting him cry with his head
in his lap on the roof of Malfoy Manor without shame. He healed the bruises from his father's
injuries and talked Theo out of wanting to end his own life. Laughed with him, practicing
Quidditch together, sneaking off to the kitchens in Hogwarts.

They would prank students when they were bored. They would sneak firewhiskey into the
Slytherin Common Room to amuse themselves. Late-night talks of their future.

They discussed moving in together and starting a life last year if Draco was to survive. They
engaged in a deep conversation, envisioning a bright future where they could live together
and work as Aurors together, should circumstances alter. Though it had been a silly dream,
because Draco always knew that his parents would want him to marry a pureblood witch and
have an heir, carrying on with the Malfoy line.

Draco had been there for him through it all, and now what was he going to do without him?

The thought alone of no longer having him to go to made his stomach ache as he curled his
arms around himself, shivering from the adrenaline of trying to save him. And Theo braved it
to look at Draco's face, hoping he would be lying there smirking up at him to show that he
was faking it to get him back for leaving his bedroom door open.

It was the type of shit he would do to scare him as the tosser that he was.

But when Theo looked at Draco's face, he wasn't smirking. His eyes didn't even flutter to
show that he was pretending to be dead. They weren't even open. His skin was a stark white.
His right cheek smeared in his own blood, with Hermione's fingerprints around his jaw. A
thin trickle of crimson seeped from the corner of his mouth, dipping under his jawline and
down to his ear. His lips slightly parted from his last kiss with her. His brows relaxed.

There was no smirk, no sneer, and no sarcastic brow lifting. No scowl, fucking nothing!

Draco just looked as though he was asleep, on the ground, just covered in his own blood. His
hair falling over his eyes, the ends of his strands streaked in crimson.

Theo's breath shuddered as he lazily dragged his eyes down to his chest, and that small spark
of hope flicked on that he would see it rise and fall. However, Theo quickly lost that hope.

He was still.

Too still.

Draco's left arm rested across his stomach, the ring on his fourth finger dripping blood and
staining his shirt. Theo couldn't look at the impaled wound; it was too much. His other hand
was lying palm up by his side, a few inches away from Theo's shoe, his fingers slightly
splayed as though he was waiting for Hermione to take his hand in hers and lace them
together in death. He looked at it briefly to see if his fingers would twitch; he still didn't want
to believe it.

Maybe if he looked hard enough, he would see something in him twitch.

Theo's lip trembled harder as he felt the reality sink into his veins the longer he stared at him
unmoving, the acceptance of his death, that he was truly gone sinking in.

His stomach violently churned as a huge, grief-stricken wave of nausea coiled in his stomach,
and Theo's mouth watered as he looked down at his own hands, drenched and already drying
of Draco's blood. He turned away from him and managed to take three steps into the bush
beside Hermione's bay window, where he bent over and retched violently. He braced his hand
up against the wall, one hand on his knee as he threw up, until it hurt and burnt his throat.

Then once he was done, his stomach empty and he was dry heaving, he finally let the sob that
was lodged painfully in his throat free and slammed his back up to the wall, smacking the
back of his head against the wall, putting his hands over his eyes as he slid down it.

He struggled to breathe as he drew his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around his
legs, and buried his face into his arms as he cried so hard he sounded like an animal being
choked to death.
He didn't sound like a man. He sounded like a child through his tears, just as he had sounded
when he had found his mother hours after her death and been in the same position as he was
now.

He felt some hands come down to his arms, smoothing them up and down softly.

Theo didn't look up to see who it was. Even when the hands transformed into arms and
encircled him, Theo remained motionless. Not even when he removed his face from his arms
and grabbed whoever it was by the back, burying his face into their shoulder and sobbing
until he felt as though he was drained of tears.

Theo wanted it to be Draco. He so badly wanted it to be, Draco.

He believed that this was just a bad dream, that he would wake up, and that he would be the
one comforting him. But when they spoke and it wasn't Draco's voice, he knew it was still
real and he was very much awake.

"Breathe, Theo." Blaise.

"Calm down, please. You're scaring me." He whispered, his voice cracking, smoothing his
hand up and down his back.

Theo listened to him taking deep breaths until he calmed down, and he pulled away from
Blaise, sufficiently crying out as he stared at his second-best friend.

Blaise looked just as devastated, shattered, and lost as he searched Theo's face for a few
minutes. "We need to get him inside. Will you help me?"

"Levitate him," Theo swallowed thickly, his voice watery with heavy emotion.

"I don't trust my magic to not drop him when we're like this. I can't concentrate on it properly
when I'm emotional. Come on, I need you to help me carry him and get him more
comfortable. Can you do that?"

"I can't t-touch him," Theo shook his head, more tears rising. "Not like that, Blaise." He
croaked.

"Please, Theo. It won't take long; just to the sofa, and then that's it; you don't have to touch
him again." He begged, squeezing his shoulders. "My hands are shaking too much to use
magic; I don't want to drop him. Please, I need to carry him, but I can't do it all by myself."

"The kitchen..."

"What?"

"Take him to the kitchen," Theo repeated in a heavy tone. "I need him where I can't see him.
For now at least." He rubbed a hand over his face.

Blaise nodded, smiling a barely there smile. "Let's go to the kitchen then. Take twenty steps,
and you won't have to touch him again. Okay? I promise. I'll make it comfortable for him.
Please assist me in lifting him off the ground and out of the muggles' line of sight." He held
his hand out for Theo to take.

Theo inhaled a shaking breath, slipped his hand into Blaise's, and allowed him to help him
stand. His legs felt numb as he stood, used his sleeve to wipe at his eyes, and walked over to
Draco.

"I'll take his top end, and you can take his legs." Blaise said in a calm voice, bending down,
ready beside Draco's head.

Theo only nodded, clearing his stuffy throat as he bent down to grab his legs.

Blaise carefully slipped his arm under his neck to grasp his shoulder while simultaneously
wrapping his other arm around under his back. He then glanced at Theo, who was trembling
as he grasped his legs. His eyes were bloodshot and pale, and he looked sickly in the face.

"Are you ready?"

Theo nodded, taking a deep breath. Draco still felt warm, but that didn't make him feel any
better. "Let's just get this over with."

Blaise nodded curtly. "Three, two, one. Lift."

They lifted him up at the same time, grunting from his heavy dead weight. Blaise adjusted
him carefully as his head tilted back limply across his arm.

Theo pressed one hand under his lower back, keeping one arm tightly secure around his legs
as they took him inside. They left a blood trail on their way inside, being careful not to knock
him into anything. They could hear Pansy sobbing upstairs as they guided him into the
kitchen.

When they arrived at the kitchen, Blaise awkwardly held Draco in one arm while he moved
items off the island, placed a wandless cushioning charm on it, lifted him onto it, and laid
him down on his back.

"Careful with his head," Theo muttered, releasing his legs as Blaise guided him down.

"I am," he shot Theo a quick glare as he carefully laid his head down on the island. He
sniffed as he looked at his face for a moment, his jaw trembling. "Miss you already, mate."
He said under his breath. Then he caught Theo out of the corner of his eye watching him and
cleared his throat, moving down and starting to unbutton his shirt. "You should go and tell
Narcissa and Lucius."

Theo winced. "I can't do that."

Blaise looked at him through hooded lids, pausing his hands. "Someone has to, Theo. And it
has to be you. You were closer—are closer with him," he corrected himself as Theo sneered.
"Of the three of us, you are the closest. You must be the one to inform them."
Theo pinched his eyes shut, massaging at his temples. "Fucking—fine! I'll do it; what are you
going to do?"

"I'm going to clean him up and get him changed. They'll probably want to see him, so it's best
that he doesn't look like this when they do," he waved his hand up and down his body. "I
know it's not a nice thing to do," he said more softly. "But they're his parents, Theo. As far as
they're aware, he could be sitting here laughing with Hermione, or reading, or whatever. It's
not fair to them. So tell them and bring them here to say goodbye. Then we'll go from there;
they might even take him home with them."

"And if they don't? What are we supposed to do with him then? Because I'm not burning his
body as they're doing with all the other killed." He clenched his jaw tightly.

Blaise took a steady, deep breath as he slipped Draco's shirt off carefully. "Hermione wants to
come back and say goodbye. We'll keep him under a freezing stasis spell until then. Merlin
knows how long she will be." He shook his head slightly.

Theo held back a sob as Crookshanks trotted in and jumped up to see Draco. He nuzzled his
face into his hand, but when Draco made no move to touch him back, he whined, patting his
hand with his paw. Crookshanks made a sad sound, licking at his hand to try and stir him.

When he didn't, Theo saw the moment Crookshanks realised why he wasn't waking up; he
whimpered, curling himself into a ball close to his side and resting his paw and chin on
Draco's wrist. Theo was certain he saw a tear trickle down Crookshanks's fluffy cheek as he
closed his eyes, his ears drooping.

Theo couldn't bear it.

"Yeah," Theo said bitterly as he turned his back to Blaise and headed out towards the floo. "If
she doesn't get herself killed in the process, too."

Even in death, Draco would never forgive him if something was to ever happen to her.

~♡~

Malfoy Manor-

Theo stepped up to the ajar door that led into the tea room and peeked inside to see Narcissa
in her chair, crocheting with a blissful smile gracing her red lips, rocking back and forth,
humming something happily. Lucius sat beside her, tumbler of firewhiskey in one hand, book
in his lap, playing with Narcissa's hair.

He too looked peaceful; despite what was happening outside of these walls, they both looked
happier than ever.

Theo had never seen them so happy, and he was about to shatter them. He couldn't do it. He
stood there and watched them trying to find the courage to break the news about their only
son.
"I'm so proud of our boy," Narcissa said in a relaxed sigh. "He always talked about that girl,
and I always knew deep inside of him he had a lingering crush that he would never admit. He
looked so happy, didn't he?" She looked at Lucius, her eyes warm.

Theo's heart clenched.

"He did, my darling," Lucius looked at her with the same warmth. "I know it's going to take
him a while to trust me. But I'm willing to prove it to him that he's got nothing to fear. Can
see him now once this is over, if he's not facing Azkaban, of course, showing her off to us."
He chuckled.

Theo placed his hand to his mouth to stifle a sob, listening in to their conversation.

"Oh, can you imagine the wedding?" Narcissa gushed. "We would have to make it so special
for them, and maybe we could even research some muggle traditions. This is to ensure that
Miss Granger feels more comfortable in our presence. I can see his face now at the altar as
she walks down the aisle." She placed her hands to her chest, picturing it perfectly.

"Draco's there watching her walking down," Lucius continued chuckling. "Do you think he
would cry?"

"You cried when my father walked me down," she reminded him sarcastically. "You boys
may act tough, but deep inside you're both softies. He gets that from you."

"No," he laughed. "Draco gets that from you. You're the softest out of all three of us. He is
who he is because of you."

Narcissa considered that piece of information for a moment, pretending to think about it.
"Yeah, I can't deny that. I'm very proud of him; after all he's been through, I'm so happy he's
found comfort and someone to love. He deserves it."

Theo, overwhelmed by the situation, furiously wiped his face, cleared his throat, rolled his
shoulders, and braced himself to shatter their hearts.

He knocked on the door as he built his occluded walls just a tiny bit to help him get through
the conversation he thought he'd never have with them.

"Come in!" Narcissa called cheerfully.

Theo's heart was pounding as he stepped inside and tried to smile, but it failed as soon as they
met his eyes, and they looked concerned immediately.

"Theo? What is the matter? You look dreadful," Narcissa said worriedly, as she placed her
crocheting down in her lap, her brows furrowing as she took him in.

Theo didn't say anything as he stopped a few feet away from them, wringing his blood-
covered hands together.

Narcissa and Lucius shared a worried look between them, catching the way Theo looked like
he was about to break down.
"Darling, what's wrong?" Narcissa asked him gently as she looked back at him.

"I...um," he cleared his throat hoarsely as he took a deep breath. "I'm afraid...I--have bad
news."

Lucius caught the blood on his hands and a few drops on his collar. "Theo? Are you hurt?"

Theo shook his head, his walls falling too hard. "Not me." He lost it as the tears slipped
before he could stop them.

Narcissa slowly stood, walking over to him, and took his broken face in her hands, wiping his
tears away. "Theo, talk to me. What's the matter? You're scaring me." She whispered, her
chest slightly heaving. Terror coiling in her veins.

Theo choked on a sob. "It's Draco." He sucked in a breath as he watched the way Narcissa's
face fell in despair. "I'm sorry, I tried. I tried so hard! I couldn't—I tried, I swear!"

Lucius grabbed his cane from beside him and limped over to them, grabbing Narcissa's elbow
as she let go of Theo's face, almost stumbling back on her feet. "What are you talking about?
Where is he? Is he all right?"

Theo didn't answer either of them as his sobs ripped through him.

Lucius placed his hand on his shoulder, gripping him tightly. "Theo, talk to me. What's
happened to my son?" His voice rose, panic shaking through it.

"He's dead," was all he could choke out. "D-Draco's dead."

Narcissa appeared to be in a state of stupor—her face devoid of colour, her hands trembling
up to her mouth, and her head shaking. "Please, please tell me you're lying, Theo." She
whispered, her voice pained.

Theo shook his head. "I wish I were."

A heartbroken sob ripped through her as she collapsed into Lucius's side. He grabbed her by
the waist as she turned to him, hugged him, and began crying on his shoulder.

Lucius's eyes were hard, trained onto Theo's.

"You'd better not be lying, Theo, because this isn't funny. He can't be dead; he was here not
two hours ago, perfectly healthy and happy. H--how? What happened?" He clenched through
his teeth, but his cracking voice betrayed him as he held onto his sobbing, shaking wife.

Theo ran two stressed hands over his face. "He went for a walk with Hermione, but when he
returned, Weasley unexpectedly appeared. He killed him when his back was turned with the
sword of Gryffindor." He shook.

Lucius's chest heaved in rage. "Which Weasley?" He sneered, his eyes darkening.
"Ron," he gulped. "Ron Weasley killed your son. I—I'm sorry. I tried so hard to save him, so
did Hermione. And now she's gone, and I don't know where she is. She left as soon as he
died; I—I think to find Weasley... I don't know! I'm sorry!" He broke down, and Lucius
pulled him into his arms, cradling the back of his head.

"I'm sorry, Theodore," he felt guilty for yelling at him as he held them both. "I'm sorry; I
didn't mean to get angry." He whispered, his tone cracking.

"Where's my son?" Narcissa turned her face to look at Theo against Lucius's chest, stuttering
on her heartbroken breaths. "Where's my baby boy?"

"Hermione's house."

"Take me to him. Please, I need to see him." She begged; her eyes shattered.

Theo shouldn't have brought them here.

He couldn't handle it as he sat down on the sofa back at Hermione's house as soon as they
stepped in through the floo, and Blaise took them from Theo to the kitchen.

As soon as they stepped into the kitchen, where Draco was, Theo had to cover his ears, bow
his head towards his chest, his chin pressing against it, and squeeze his eyes shut as
Narcissa's wretched screams filled the quiet space of the house.

It wasn't so much a scream but an earth shattering wail of a mother seeing her only son gone
in front of her. Her screams reached the depths of his stomach, as if someone were
disembowelling him.

She sounded completely distraught, broken, and in so much pain. She kept begging him to
wake up, to let this be a nightmare. She was yelling at him to stop playing this sick game, to
open his eyes, to wake up. It was awful—truly a punch through the chest and ripping your
heart out—torturous screams that ripped through her vocal cord as a grieving mother.

No mother should ever have to witness their child's body lying in front of them lifeless and
cold.

Never.

Then suddenly, for what felt like an eternity, it went very quiet, but he kept his eyes shut and
his hands over his ears as he heard footsteps coming back to where he was, someone talking
to someone else, and then the floo whooshing.

"Theo, it's okay." Blaise was now in front of him, trying to pry his hands off his ears. "Don't
worry, they've left. Narcissa collapsed, and Lucius took her home to help her recover from
her shock. Draco's still here."

"Stop it!" Theo ripped himself away from him, keeping his hands where they were. "Stop
talking about it! You never should have made me go and tell them it was too hard!" He
shouted, opening his eyes to sear a glare at him.
"I'm sorry," Blaise whispered emotionally. "I'm sorry, you're right; I should have gone with
you."

Theo bent his knees up to his chest, burying his face into his arms. "Leave me alone. Just
leave me alone for a bit." He muttered into his arms.

Blaise did as he asked and walked away, his footsteps retreating upstairs to check on Pansy.

Theo cried into his own arms for what felt like hours until his head started pounding
painfully. His throat was sore and painful, and eventually his eyes grew heavy. He lay down
on his side on the sofa, folded his arms across his chest, and stared blankly at the ash-filled
hearth. His breath stuttered every two seconds as he lay there, wishing he had never let them
leave the house.

Then he felt the sofa dip, and he startled when he saw Crookshanks by his legs, staring at him
with wide, watery eyes.

"Don't start on me, beast," Theo said hoarsely. His throat is dry. "I'm seriously not in the
mood for your games."

Crookshanks carefully walked over his legs, slipping down towards Theo's chest, whining
softly in what Theo could presume was heartbreak.

Theo just stared at him, unsure of what he wanted, while Crookshanks extended his paw and
gently tapped his hand, causing his ears to drop back in grief a few times.

"I know I'm not what you want, but... Do you want a cuddle?" Theo asked him tiredly.

Crookshanks tapped his hand again and bumped his forehead in a silent beg to be held
against his forearm.

Theo hesitated but gently lifted his arm to give him some space, watching him carefully.

Crookshanks purred, shuffling closer, and as soon as Theo wrapped his arms around him, he
started burying his snout into his throat, nuzzling closer to him, closing his eyes as he huffed
in a depressed manner.

Theo closed his eyes as he pulled him tighter, listening to his purrs in his ear as sleep took
him on the sofa snuggled up next to the beast he was certain hated him but needed him more
than anyone.

This morning they had all been so happy, laughing; Draco was upset but looked relieved that
his parents knew, and Hermione looked in love with his best friend, all prepared to hunt down
the Horcruxes and end this wretched war.

How quickly this day had turned into one of the worst days of their lives for all of them.

However, if Theo had gone back into the kitchen instead of falling asleep, he would've
noticed the stab wound slowly beginning to close and his skin knit back together all by itself
in Draco's chest and his fingers twitching by his side as his heart began to beat very slowly
once again in his chest all by itself.

He could even have seen the small and very faint rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled his
first deep breath since his death, while his wound healed and knitted shut in a silver glow of
magic, leaving behind no scar in its wake.

~♡~

Hermione-

Hermione sat on her cot, with Pan curled up asleep in the shape of a black cat, against her
side back in the tent she had kept in her bag.

Harry sat behind her, brushing her hair while she gazed down at the object in her hands. Her
eyes were far away as she stared down at the mask she had kept in her bag since Draco had
woken her up back at her house. She couldn't cry anymore; she was all dried out as she
stroked the cheeks of the silver brass and stared through the eye holes, wishing she could still
see his eyes staring back at her through them.

Hermione closed her eyes as Harry brushed her hair for her, cleaning her up from Draco's
blood, searching for his voice in her mind when she didn't know who he was at the time that
last night before he had left for Australia.

"Turn the page, Granger," he whispered, tightening his arms around her up against the tree.

Hermione smiled softly, turning the page and leaning back against his chest. She moaned
softly in relaxation as his gloved hands traced back and forth across her stomach. "How do
you read so fast?" She asked him, looking up at his masked face, resting the back of her head
against his shoulder.

He looked down at her, his grey eyes smug and full of self-preserving ego. "Gifted, I suppose.
How don't you? Isn't your life solely filled around books?" He chuckled.

"Yes, but I like to read slowly. Feel the characters emotions. You can sense the emotions
they're conveying to each other. You can also discern their inner thoughts. Look for clues,
things like that, so I don't miss anything."

Where he had left his mask free from their second kiss, she caught his lips lifting up into a
smug smirk. "You're one of those bookworms." He teased in amusement.

Hermione immediately scowled at him. "Pardon?"

"You're one of those bookworms that feels as though she's inside the book and cries when the
hero or villain dies, aren't you? Feels everything that someone who doesn't exist feels. They
are willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of the damsel in distress or the hero in need.
Am I wrong?" His smirk grew wider in amusement.
"So what? Books can tell you a lot of things that movies can't. In movies, you can only see
their expressions and hear the pain, love, happiness, or anger in their voice. Whereas in
books, you can look into their minds and see and feel everything that they are thinking. Don't
belittle me." She glared at him.

His lips dropped from a smirk to a twisted confusion. "What the bloody hell is a movie?"

Hermione barked a laugh at how confused he sounded. "It's just a muggle thing; don't worry
about it. But maybe if you slowed down and read between the lines, you might not be a total
cold-hearted human being," she joked, turning away from him, clearing her throat as she
stuck her nose back into the book.

The book was suddenly snatched from her hands, and a hand wrapped around her throat, but
not in a threatening way that made her scared of him. But in a way that made her heart skip a
beat as she looked up into the furious pools of grey behind the slits.

"I may be a Death Eater, Granger, but I'm not totally made of stone," his mouth quirked into
an offended sneer as he drawled.

"What's the matter, stranger? Can't handle a joke when you hear it? Or maybe I meant it.
Who knows?" She challenged him, fighting back a smirk. "I don't know who you are. I don't
know what you're like."

He flicked his tongue out to wet his lips as he leaned in closer to her, brushing the tip of his
cold masked nose against her. "Tell me something, little miss; I know everything," his warm
breath brushed against her lips as he whispered lowly. "Would a coldhearted man such as
myself do this?"

Hermione's breath got caught in her lungs as he brushed his lips against the corner of her
mouth, her eyes fluttering.

"Or this?" He applied the same technique to the other corner, gently brushing it and allowing
it to linger. "Or how about this?" His tone turned heavier as his breath turned shallow as
though he was losing oxygen, and he pressed his lips against her so softly as though she was
made of glass.

Hermione's eyes rolled to the back of her head before she could help it as his hand drifted
into her curls and tugged, angling her head the way that he wanted, running his tongue along
her bottom lip.

She parted her lips, his breath meeting hers, as he slipped his tongue inside and gave her the
most erotic French kiss she had ever experienced. It was slow, intoxicating as he glided his
tongue against hers. They moaned in symphony together as their breaths grew heavy as he
deepened it further.

Her hand found its way to his jaw, curling around it as their lips moved against each other
perfectly as though he were made for her.
At that moment, Hermione realised that no matter who he was, she loved him. That's all there
was to it, and she so badly wanted to tell him, but she couldn't until she saw who was hiding
under that mask.

Hermione snapped out of the memory as his mask suddenly morphed into Ron's smug face
staring back at her in the palms of her hands.

Harry was talking to her, asking if she was okay, but she couldn't hear him.

All she could see as her blood pounded in her ears was Ron's face staring back at her, a
mocking look in his eyes that he had won.

Angry red tears blurred her vision as she started to squeeze it, imagining crushing his skull
for taking away the only man that accepted her for who she was and challenged her in a way
that no one else could. Her chest started heaving as her hands shook around the mask, and
she felt Harry shift off the cot behind her to see what was going on with her.

Then, as Ron's mouth lifted into a cruel, bloodcurdling smirk, she yelled in furious
frustration, and the mask was smashed into five pieces as she crushed it through her grief-
fueled anger.

Harry jumped back as sharp pieces of the mask flew in all directions, pressing his hand into
his sternum. He watched as Hermione gripped the edges of the bed in a white-knuckled grip.
Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, as if she had been on a life-threatening run. Her eyes
were almost black in toxic rage as she stared at the left-hand side of the split and jagged-apart
mask right in the centre of the floor.

She looked like she wanted to kill someone as she glowered at it. He could feel the hot flares
of her rage radiating off of her so much he was too scared to move in case she turned on him.

Ever since she had woken up after he had built the tent and let her sleep, hugging Pan as
though her life depended on it, all she had done was stare at Malfoy's mask or smooth her
thumb over her left wrist, staring into space. He didn't know what she was searching for
every time she brought her wrist up closer to her eyes for inspection, but he knew it meant
something precious to her as she would sob quietly, but no tears would fall.

He still didn't know every single detail; he was willing to wait until she was ready to speak of
it. Right now, he was grateful that he had found her at the right time, but he was also
concerned for her well-being as she stood up, walked over to the broken section of the mask,
and picked it up in her hand.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" He asked her cautiously.

Hermione didn't answer him as she pinched her brows together, studying the mask closely as
though an idea had struck her.

She lifted it to her face, closing her eyes as it covered the left-hand side of her features,
closed her eyes, and exhaled softly through parted lips.
Then, Harry wasn't quite sure what happened next or if Hermione had even conjured this next
ray of unusual magic herself or if the mask was doing it to her. But as she held it on her face,
keeping her eyes shut, something happened that made Harry's eyes widen in surprise.

Hermione began to change right before him.

It started at her feet as the mask produced a soft, gentle, flashing silver glow as it connected
against her skin. Black smokey veins of magic weaved their way around her shoes, up her
legs, and round and round until they snaked up her torso and around her arms, which she now
held out wide on either side of her and up to her chest.

Her shoes transformed into knee-length black leather combat boots. Her jeans transformed
into black faux leather trousers that hugged her curves. Her long-sleeved jumper changed into
a black and grey contrast patch top with long cufflinked sleeves that held a black corset at her
waist.

A black leather holster clamped around her waist as a dagger appeared in its rightful slot,
clicking and shunting into place. She had an additional few pockets for her wand and potions.
Elbow-high gloves appeared out of nowhere, folding themselves neatly into the holster.

Harry didn't understand what was happening as her curls transformed from less frizzy from
his terrible brushing into defined waves, as her golden natural strands lit up brighter than the
sun.

Lastly, the mask on her face changed too, and Harry had to cover his eyes as a bright white
flash exploded around the room, and when he removed his hand from his face, he found a
metallic silver eye mask crafted with intricate details and shimmering silver tones resting on
her eyes and the bridge of her nose.

"Hermione? What the hell is happening to you?" Harry asked in complete shock, eyeing her
form up and down.

"I—I don't know," she said honestly, taking a good look at herself, terrified at what was
happening. Then her left arm started burning, and she grabbed it as a painful burn shot up her
forearm, and she started screaming in agonising pain as she rolled her sleeve up to find hot
silver magic carving into her skin like a tattoo needle.

Hermione collapsed to her knees, her eyes wide as Harry and Pan came to her sides,
uncertain of what to do as an image began to draw itself on her skin.

"Ow! Harry, make it stop!" Hermione begged him, screaming at the top of her lungs as the
shape of a dragon's head, mid-roar, started at the top of her forearm near the crook of her arm.
Horns in the shape of the devil, spiked out his head, sharp, bloodthirsty teeth in his mouth.

"I don't know what's happening!" Harry didn't know what to do as she grabbed her own wrist,
yelling in pain as the tattoo finished, ending in thick black ink as flames burst free from the
dragon's mouth, collecting around his neck, stopping in shading contrasts just before her
wrist.
Hermione grunted as she felt her arm was on fire, panting heavily, and she thought it was
over when it carried on going, but instead a meaning in words wrote itself into her skin, and
she bit her tongue, wincing as she watched it.

By the time it finally stopped, Hermione felt as though all of the oxygen had left her lungs as
she looked at the message on her hand.

No, not a message.

A declaration.

A claim upon her as she read the four words in neat penmanship underneath the dragon and
across her pulse point in the style of Windsong handwriting that she recognised straight away.

Property of Draco Malfoy was written across her wrist in thick black ink, marking her as
though he had tattooed it onto her himself.

But that was impossible.

He was dead.

All she had wanted was to put his mask to her face in the hopes that she could still feel as
though he was here. She hadn't expected any of this, and as she looked at Harry, he was
looking at her with bewilderment. Wide-eyed and slightly afraid as he stared at her.

"Harry, what's happening to me?" She whispered, smoothing her thumb over her fresh tattoo.

"I don't know, Hermione. I really don't know." He took a deep breath. "But what I can gather
a--and this is just a thought," he exhaled sharply. "But it looks like he's claimed you as his
own personal property. Even in death."

~♡~

The next morning in Hampstead-

Theo stopped mid-step, his shoe skidding against the tiles into the kitchen, leaving Pansy,
Blaise, and Crookshanks alone in the front lounge in loud, grief-filled silence. He inhaled
sharply as his eyes landed on the kitchen island, his lips parting as his brows furrowed in
deep confusion.

"Blaise!" He called, keeping his gaze locked onto it, his voice scratchy.

"What?" Blaise called back from down the hallway, his own voice tired.

"Can...can you come here? You need to see this." Theo swallowed nervously, unable to tear
his eyes away as he heard Blaise's footsteps heading up behind him.
"Theo, it's just a simple pot of coffee," he muttered from behind him. "You don't have to look
at him as you—what the fuck?" He finished instead, stopping next to Theo as his eyes
widened.

Theo swallowed thickly. "Um. You warded this place, right?" He said in a light whisper,
darting his eyes back and forth.

"Heavily, so that no one could come in or find us when I left you alone last night."

"Explain to me why the back door is wide open and where Draco's body is." Theo demanded,
staring at the now vacant space of where he once lay, his body gone as though he had just
gotten up and walked out the back door all by himself.

Blaise didn't know.

Neither of them did as they stared at it together, wondering how the hell he had vanished into
thin air, his shoes still neatly on the floor together where Blaise had left them.

Nobody, not one of them, had come in here since Narcissa and Lucius had come to see him.

Blaise had blocked off the floos and heavily guarded the house to prevent anyone from trying
to find them.

But then as they stood there trying to work out how Draco had mysteriously disappeared, a
sudden shadow poured over the house, darkening it as it blocked the sun streaking in, and
they stumbled back in sudden fear as a 10-foot-wide black spiky scaled devil horned head
filled the doorway of a dragon, baring his sharp saliva-filled hungry teeth.

"Merlin, fuck!" Blaise cried, grabbing his wand as it glared at them through the door and
aiming it at his lizard-shaped snout. "Where did he come from?!"

Theo went to answer, but he couldn't stop looking at the eyes glaring through to them. They
were shaped like diamonds, the pupils vertical just like Crookshanks, but that's not what Theo
was concentrating on the most. He was focusing on the colour of the monster's eyes.

Grey.

Piercing thunderstorm grey glaring through to them like molten steel that eerily reminded
him of someone else who used to glare at him like that.

Theo grabbed Blaise's wrist to lower his wand, narrowing his eyes as the dragon looked
scared but could blast them to shreds if they made one wrong move in his territory stance.
Why wasn't he attacking them? Why wasn't he flying away or rearing his head back to melt
them to the ground as they normally did when face to face with humans?

How did he get into the wards in the first place?

Then Theo caught the way he looked at him, and he wasn't glaring anymore. He was silently
asking for help as his eyes softened and a gentle clicking noise rumbled through his throat.
 Theo's breath hitched sharply. No, it couldn't be, could it?

"Draco?"

Chapter End Notes

Told you, I told you to have faith in me 🤭🤭🤭

Hope you no longer hate me now! This chapter took me all day to write and my hands
are killing me but I hope you enjoyed it and the ending was worth it!

I'll reply when I can lots of love! 🫶

 Chapter 15
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Hampstead-

"Theo, what are you doing?!" Blaise yanked him back after taking a step forward towards the
dragon.

"Shh!" He gritted harshly through his teeth, yanking his grip from his arm. "Be quiet! He'll
attack if you freak out."

Blaise appeared on the brink of fleeing as he grasped him once more by the elbow, his wide,
terrified eyes darting between Theo and the beast, both of whom were staring through to
them with starved eyes. "Theo, I've just lost one mate; don't be stupid and get yourself killed
too!"

"Just trust me—"

"Theo, I'm serious!" He begged, his chest heaving in fear, jumping at the dragon, growling in
agitation. "Stop being foolish, and let's get Pansy and Crookshanks out of here!" He pulled on
his arm hard enough to drag him away, but as he predicted, Theo dug his heels into the
ground, stopping him.

"Blaise, let me go!" Theo finally managed to break his arm free. "I think it's Draco!"

Blaise stared at him in disbelief. He gaped as if he had completely lost his mind. "Are you
crazy?! Draco died; we all saw it happen! Don't start getting your hopes up! It's logically
impossible!"

"Then explain to me how he just got up and walked out the back door!" He panted angrily.
"Explain to me how this dragon got into the wards! I hate to break it to you, but even dragons
cannot breach the wards, and we would be able to sense it! Look at his eyes," he pointed to
the piercing grey, watching them intently. "Tell me that not a single part of you doesn't
believe that Draco miraculously returned from the dead and transformed into him!"

Blaise looked from Theo to the dragon, back to Theo, then the dragon again and narrowed his
eyes. He saw the grey in them, and Theo understood that they would have felt him break in
through the wards. The entire place would have trembled in terror. But that small part of him
didn't want to believe it.

He'd seen Draco lie there still, unmoving, no pulse, nothing. It didn't seem possible, but as he
kept looking at the silver diamond eyes, which seemed to slightly, though barely, recognise
him, through the door, a small voice in the back of his head was telling him that Theo was
right.
But what if he was wrong? He couldn't lose Theo too.

When Blaise didn't answer, Theo rolled his shoulders, a strong sense of determination rolling
over his brave features.

"I'm going to go up to him," he said. "If I'm wrong, then I'll attack, but something is telling
me that it's him. You stay there." He turned around, taking a deep breath, and slowly took one
step at a time towards him, raising his hands to show that he wasn't a threat.

"Theo, please be careful!" Blaise whispered, keeping his wand in his tight grip just in case.
He swallowed hard.

Theo nodded, putting one slow foot in front of the other as he crossed the kitchen towards the
back door. The dragon watched him carefully, going into defensive mode as he got closer,
snarling and snapping his jaw, his eyes turning furious.

"It's okay," Theo said calmly, stopping for a moment. "I'm not going to hurt you." He shook
his head.

The dragon made a warning sound, a terrifying clicking growl in the back of his throat,
shaking his head out and preparing for an attack.

"Draco, if that's you in there, then trust me." He spoke softly, flinching his hand back as he
got closer, his stomach coiling in nerves. "It's just me; it's Theo. Your best friend,
remember?"

Blaise winced, squinting his eyes shut as Theo got about six feet away from him. His heart
pounding painfully against his ribs as the dragon narrowed his eyes right on Theo further,
flicking his sharp, snake-like tongue out to lick at his snout, as though he were starving, and
Theo just looked like a delightful human treat.

Theo raised his hand out, steadying his footsteps and keeping them slow so as not to startle
him. "Do you remember me? Remember Theodore Nott? We've been best friends since we
were born." He spoke loudly but calmly as he got closer to him.

The dragon tilted his head to the right and sniffed twice as his pupils fluctuated between
defensive anger and a look of questionable hope deep inside of them.

He couldn't decide how he was feeling. One moment baring his sharp teeth and then a gentle
purr, but when Theo got close enough to brush his fingers against his snout, he backed off his
large lion-shaped scaled paws, causing the house to shake like there was an earthquake
crumbling underneath the earth plates.

Blaise grabbed onto the wall from the force of it and shakily followed Theo outside, keeping
at a safe distance to make sure he wouldn't be eaten alive.

And by Salazar, he was bigger than either of them had anticipated.

He was a good 50-70 meters in body length, and his wingspan was around 90-120 wide. His
size dwarfed that of Hermione's house, potentially even surpassing the length of her
neighbor's house next door and the one beside it. His body filled the entire space of the
garden; his long, black, snake-scaled tail was awkwardly bent upwards against the fence and
curled around his body towards his huge, lion-shaped paws at the front, 50 feet long, with
two smaller bat-shaped wings for turbulence at the end of it. Either side of his body curled in
at an awkward bent-shaped angle; he had massive, thick wings of hard rubbery skin, also in
the shape of a bat, the ends resting against the ground. His wings were smoked black and
elasticated.

Black bulletproof scales of armour cover his body, making it thick and sturdy. His face,
though, now that they could see it properly, reminded them of a mixture between a phoenix
and a lizard. He had two devil horns positioned at the top of his head, surrounded by sharper
scales that appeared to resemble stiff feathers. And his jaw, snout, and around his eyes, long
and broad, resembled a bearded dragon.

Theo's height was the same size as his head alone, causing Theo to look like a chess piece on
a board.

"Fuck me, he's huge." That was all Blaise could say as he backed away from them.

He yelped and snapped his jaw when his rear end connected with the ward, stinging him.

Theo jumped back, raising his hands in surrender as he began to feel stressed out by his
situation. "It's all right; it's okay." He told him calmly, puffing some air between his lips as
the heat from inside of him hugged around them like a fiendfyre.

A bead of sweat trickled down Theo's temple as the dragon kept looking around for a way to
escape, trying to move his wings, but because of how cramped it was, he could barely move.

Theo wanted to try something. "Draco!" He continued to swing his head from left to right, his
hackles rising in warning. "Draco, if that's you, I want you to blink once for yes!"

"Theo, it's not him; it can't be."

"Shut up and let me concentrate!" He snapped at him before he turned back to the dragon,
growing more stressed by the second.

A hot ball of fire ignited at the back of his throat, prompting Theo to quickly form a
protective shield and blast it towards them. "Draco, calm down and listen to me!"

The dragon suddenly turned furious and lunged at them, snapping his jaw as he let out an ear-
bursting roar that knocked them back from the force and their hands to fly to their ears.

"Theo! Give this up! We have to get out of here!" Blaise yelled at him as he fell backward
from the wind of his breath. "It's not him, can't you see that?!"

Theo clenched his jaw as he pushed himself to stand, hardening his eyes, and ignored Blaise
as he aimed his wand at the dragon and conjured a nuzzle to wrap around his jaw. It slammed
shut as he went to spit a ball of fire at them. Next he bound his legs up, causing him to fall to
the ground, tightening them to immobilise him and nailing them into the ground.
The dragon looked ready to murder him, his grey eyes searing into Theo's frame as he
breathed heavily through his slitted nostrils, thick smoke puffing out, trying to move, but he
was trapped thanks to Theo's strong chains wrapped around him all over that the most he
could do was shake his head slightly.

Theo rolled his shoulders as he growled at him and raised his hand once again, edging closer
to try and calm him.

"Draco, I know it's you in there," he said softly. "And I know you can hear me. But it's just
me; it's Theo. You're at Hermione's house in Hampstead. Remember?"

That did something as he suddenly stopped his furious attempts to break free, looking at Theo
through hooded lids, breathing heavily in gruff exhales.

"Do you remember, Hermione? The girl you've been protecting ever since she saved your
life?" One step, the dragon made a soft humming noise. "Do you remember her, Draco?"

A clicking noise rumbled at the back of his throat, flicking his eyes between Theo's shoes and
back to his face. Eyes cautious, but not so afraid anymore.

"Yeah?" He smiled and nodded gently as he drew closer, almost reaching his nose.
"Hermione Granger. Bossy, a know-it-all, smart, and the brightest witch that crawled under
your skin, and you refused to acknowledge your feelings for her?" He chuckled softly.

He seemed to calm down as he spoke about her, bowing his head to rest against the grass, his
eyes pained as he followed Theo getting closer.

Theo took a deep breath as he bent down and bravely placed his palm flat on his warm snout.
His scales were rough and slightly bristled. "Do you remember her, Draco? Can you show me
that you remember her?"

He blinked once up at him, a gentle nod of his head, but a pained purr radiating through him.
He huffed once, causing Theo's curls to breeze as he nudged his snout into the palm of his
hand, the sweating heat dying out around them.

Theo smiled and sighed in relief as he stroked his thick scales, his thrashing heart slowing
down as the dragon nuzzled into his hand, closing his eyes for a moment.

"It's him, Blaise," Theo swivelled his head, beaming with joy. "This is, Draco. I told you."

Blaise tugged at his collar, carefully walking over to him, catching the way the beast looked
at him as he approached behind Theo in a sense of recognition. "Great," he laughed
nervously, shaking in terrified adrenaline. "Now how the fuck do we turn him back?"

Theo frowned at that. He didn't know, but maybe if he spoke to him, he could turn himself
back if he tried.

"Draco, we need you back. In human form, do you think you can change for us? Can you do
that?" He looked at him, blinking three times, a hint of uncertainty inside of them. Theo
nodded in understanding, resting down on his knees, and turned his head to rest along his
snout, wrapping his arms around his warm scales. "I need you back. Hermione needs you
back, Draco." He whispered as he stroked the underside of his jaw. "I'll help you, I promise,
to control this, but first I need you back to how you were. It's been the longest twenty-four
hours of my life with you gone. Please come back to us as you were." He closed his eyes,
taking a deep breath in through his nose, hoping that he was listening to him and finding
some way to reverse however he had managed to be in this form in the first place.

He didn't see how it happened or even feel it, but he kept his eyes closed as the snout
vanished, a gust of wind knocked right through his body, and then a pair of arms wrapped
around his back, and his chin was resting on someone's shoulder.

"Always so sentimental, aren't you, Nott?" An amused, deep voice chuckled in his ear.

Theo pulled back his breath, hitching, and found Draco sitting in front of him. Alive,
smirking at him, sat on his knees dressed in a crisp black shirt, opened at his collar, and black
trousers.

He looked healthy, a bright gloss of life back in his grey eyes, his skin complexion back to
his normal pale.

Theo tracked his eyes down on him. There was no sign of blood or a gaping wound in his
chest, and his hands were gently resting in his lap, twisting his signet ring around his finger
as usual. His chest is rising and falling normally. His pulse thudding in the jugular junction of
his throat.

He was alive, and instead of tackling him to the ground in a thrilled, overwhelmed hug like
he had dreamed he would, Theo lumped him one instead.

"You bastard!" Theo punched him in the arm, a scowl settling on his features straight away.
"How dare you get yourself killed and come back as a dragon!"

Draco looked offended as he rubbed at his bicep, glaring at Theo. "Ow." He droned. "I
apologise, truly. Not as though I had much of a choice in it." He sneered at him.

Theo's mouth broke out into a wide grin. The snarkiness he had missed as he then lunged
himself at him, tackling him to the ground, an "oof" escaping the pair of them.

Draco laughed, and it was music to Theo's ears to hear it again as he clapped him on the back
three times.

"God, I missed you," Theo sniffed as they sat back up after a few minutes, pulling away.
"You have no idea."

Draco's eyes rolled as he stood to his full height, brushing at his trousers, and pulled Theo up
by the hand. "Enlighten me. How long was I dead for?"

"Well, I don't know how long you were a dragon for, but I'm going to say a good eighteen
hours, forty-five minutes, and twenty-three seconds," Theo replied sarcastically.

"Not bad." He mused, almost thrilled and amused by that.

"Sarcastic bastard," Blaise whispered as he pulled Draco in for a hug, knocking him back
from the force. "Welcome back, mate." He pulled back, grabbing at his shoulder.

"Thanks," Draco snorted. "Though I'm not quite sure that I like the idea of turning into a
flying creature. It's not exactly comfortable." He cracked his neck, an uncomfortable
expression passing through his features. "Everything twists the wrong way."

Blaise and Theo laughed as he cracked his neck, shuddering. "So, you remember turning into
one?"

"At first I didn't know who I was or where I was. I just woke up, staring at the ceiling, and
felt the urge to go outside. I remember being confused, and everything inside of me felt as
though it was being pulled apart. Then, as the house began to shrink, the pain intensified. But
I couldn't get out, so I waited there, and I didn't recognise you both for a bit. Dragon vision is
grey; you can't see any colours," he shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps I found myself in a
realm of understanding, yet I refused to accept it. The brain of a dragon differs greatly from
my own."

"But you remember everything now, right?" Blaise asked, arching one brow. "Your whole life
and everything?"

Draco nodded, rubbing at his neck. "Down to the last detail. Even my last moments." His lips
twitched into a grim smile. He placed his hand on his chest, looking down at his now healed
wound, feeling around it. "Experiencing a sword punching through your chest isn't
particularly enjoyable. I don't recommend it." He snorted trying to lighten the mood, but that
just earned him some glares in return.

A pair of footsteps came running out, and a feminine gasp came from behind Blaise, and as
he turned, another pair of arms and a body launched itself at Draco.

He stumbled back a few paces as he choked from the arms wrapped around his neck, his head
still spinning from the recent transformation, and smelt the expensive perfume of Pansy.

"I can't believe it," she whispered. "You're alive." Her voice turned thick and heavy with
emotion.

Draco snorted. "Yes, yes, yes. I'm alive, and we've established that, but I won't be for much
longer if you don't release me." He choked as she tightened her arms around his neck one last
time.

Pansy stepped back, batting away her streaming tears of joy, but confusion settled on her
face. "How? I don't understand. You were dead; we all watched you die right in front of us."

"Did you not hear the commotion?" Theo asked her, folding his arms across his chest.

Pansy shook her head. "I didn't sleep last night. I fell asleep on the sofa when you two left the
room. I guess I missed it; what exactly have I missed?"

"Draco came back to life as a dragon." Theo smirked.

Pansy gaped at him, her eyes almost bulging out of her sockets. "You're taking the piss,
right?" She said in disbelief.

The boys shook their heads, beaming with joy. "Nope," Theo popped the p, slinging his arm
around Draco's shoulder. "Our man here is huge, big, and scary. Just as always." He winked.

Draco gave him an incredulous look. "What I have in my pants is none of your business,
Nott."

Theo tutted, rolling his eyes. "I didn't mean that. I meant your flying reptile form."

Draco laughed, but then his eyes landed on the open back door, flicking back and forth, a
downward frown on his lips and his brows twitching into a slight furrow, waiting for
someone else to come out to see him.

Before he could ask anything, his three friends pulled him into a group hug; he smiled
slightly, but he couldn't help but get this strange feeling rolling through his insides.

"The four snake party is back together again." Pansy sighed on his shoulder in happy content.

"Yeah, but," Draco's brows furrowed further, keeping his eyes on the back door. "There's
someone missing from this hug." He felt all three of them tense against him. "Where is she?"

All three of them pulled away their smiles, immediately vanishing into grim expressions.

Pansy folded her arms across her chest, casting her eyes to her feet. Blaise didn't know where
to look, and Theo went pale in the face.

"What?" Draco looked between all three of them. "Is she upstairs?" He brushed past them,
heading back inside to look for her.

"Draco," Theo called after him, his voice suddenly tame.

"Granger?" Draco ignored him as he walked inside, looking around the kitchen, but she
wasn't there.

He walked through to the lounge as he called her name again and found that empty too, apart
from Crookshanks, who jumped up as soon as he saw him. His amber eyes brightened, and
Draco caught him laughing softly. "Hello, beast." He scratched him under his chin as
Crookshanks purred loudly.

"Granger?!" Draco called up to the stairs as he held Crookshanks in his arms, a sudden bad
feeling in his chest as he walked up the stairs, ignoring Theo calling for his name.

He kept calling for her, checking Theo and Blaise's and Pansy's rooms and finding them
empty of her presence..

His chest started heaving slightly as he checked the bathroom, and his jaw clenched, hoping
she was in her room, but when he walked inside, that was empty too of her presence.
"Where the fuck is she?" Draco asked himself, adjusting Crookshanks in his arms as he
walked into the centre of her room, looking around it with his brows pulled together.

"She's gone," a sad sigh came from behind him.

Draco turned around and found Theo leaning up against the door frame, hands buried into his
pockets and a look of guilt etched across his features.

"Gone?" He narrowed his eyes as Theo nodded, looking at him through hooded lids. "What
do you mean she's gone?"

Theo hesitated, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out. He swallowed hard as
the reunion was swiftly over as he watched the way Draco's face turned from happy to a
narrowed, tensed expression.

Theo took a deep breath and tried again. "Draco, um, after you died. Hermione...she couldn't
handle it. She was so angry, so upset." He gulped as Draco's face fell. "She left not long after.
And I'm so sorry; I tried to stop her, but she immobilised all three of us to stop us from
stopping her."

"Well, I'll be able to find her no problem." Draco quickly placed Crookshanks down on her
bed and grabbed his mother's mirror from her bedside table, holding it in the palm of his
hand. "Show me, Granger." He commanded it.

Nothing.

Draco glared at it and tried again. "Show me, Hermione Granger." He said more clearly.

And again, nothing.

Just his own reflection staring back at him. Why wasn't it working? Then, as he slammed it
back down and felt around his signet ring, he realised something else.

He shook his head slightly, his brows furrowed deeply, his breathing became uneven, and the
bad feeling deepened further in his veins. "Why can't I feel it anymore?"

"Feel what?" Theo whispered, his own brows furrowing, watching the way Draco was
beginning to panic.

"Her heart, Theo!" He shouted as he made eye contact with him, his eyes wide and his chest
heaving. "I was able to sense her pulse around my ring in order to understand her emotions
ever since I implanted that tracking magic in her back at the wedding. Why can't I feel it
anymore?!"

Theo felt himself shrink into the floor as Draco kept feeling around his ring, his eyes flying
around the room. His breaths were unsteady, as though he was about to go into a descent of
madness.

"Um," he swallowed, growing terrified at the way Draco was reacting. "When—when you
died, the connection broke. Your wards fell down too. I surmise that all of your magic
vanished, including the ability to locate her." He winced as Draco looked at him as though it
was his fault. "I'm sorry! I tried to stop her, but she was so upset, and I—"

"Where did she go?" Draco interrupted him through clenched teeth, curling his fingers
around his clenched fist. "Where the fuck is my witch?!"

Theo gulped once again. "I don't know...she didn't tell me where she was going."

Draco turned away from him, placing his hands to his hair as he ran his fingers through it
slowly, causing it to tousle as he pinched his eyes shut, trying to stay calm. But fear,
frustrated rage, and fury took over as he breathed heavily in and out through his nose.

Then he lost it as his eyes snapped open, landing on his own reflection in her standing
makeup mirror on her desk.

He yelled a nasty growl as he put his fist through it as he lost his temper, smashing it to
pieces, splitting his knuckles in the process. As he yanked his fist back and stared at his own
shattered reflection in the cracked pieces, his eyes black with fury and his chest heaving
heavily, he knew Theo wasn't to blame.

But someone else was to blame. for splitting them apart.

"I'm going to kill that fucking Weasle, Theo!"

~♡~

Hermione-

Hermione chucked the locket down on the floor; it was broken and destroyed into two pieces.
She held the sword of Gryffindor in her hand, looking up at Harry, who was bent over taking
deep breaths in through his nose as though he were in pain.

"Harry, are you all right?"

"Mmm," he hummed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay."

Hermione nodded, walking over to him, and wrapped her hand around his elbow to help him
stand straighter and pushed him back to lean against the tree for support as she checked him
all over. "Are you sure? You look like you're in pain."

"I'm fine." He opened his eyes and smiled in relief. "I promise you I'm all right."

"Good," she leaned in and kissed his cheek quickly. "Three down, five to go." She said
reassuringly.

"Yeah, but where to look next?" He scoffed. "Or for what."

"Check this," Pan flapped his little raven wings and dropped the beadle of the bard book into
Hermione's hands as he landed on her shoulder. "Master wrote a few ideas of what they could
be before he died."

Hermione clenched her jaw, staring at the book in her hands. "I can't read it anymore." She
handed it to Harry, shoving it into his chest. "It's too hard."

"Hermione, I know you miss him, and I understand that, but just have a look and see what he
wrote." He tried to hand it back, but she refused to have a look.

She rolled her jaw, flicking her eyes between Harry and the book, a slight sneer making its
way onto her lips as she shook her head, backing away from it. "No. You look. I have
something that I need to do." She turned away from him, sliding her wand out from her
sleeve, and turned it clockwise three times against the stump in the middle of the clearing.

Harry watched silently, slumping his shoulders, and then he grew concerned as a dummy
version of Ron appeared in front of her. He went to speak when Hermione started blasting
him with furious, heartbroken curses at him.

He flinched with each powerful flick of her wand, landing square in the dummy version of
Ron over and over again, the spells echoing in nasty lighting cracks around the forest.

She slashed, cursed, and jinxed harder and harder, her movements quick and furious as she
sliced his fake stomach open and then cried out in frustration as she cast a powerful
bombarda against him and blasted him into thousands of splintering pieces.

Harry looked at Pan, who was now on his shoulder, looking back at him with the same
worried expression.

She'd changed out of her weird clothes, refusing to put them back on, and hadn't looked at her
tattoo since it had appeared. She refused to talk about Malfoy too, for why she did what she
did for him, what had happened between them.

Harry respected her to take her time with it; it hadn't even been 48 hours since his death, and
she had already practiced to destroy Ron over twenty times before they had destroyed the
locket. He wasn't sure where Ron was, why he had killed Malfoy, or what Hermione was
actually going to do when they came face to face with him again. If they ever would, in fact.

But he knew that it wasn't going to be a pleasant reunion if that was to ever happen as he
watched her take a few deep breaths and slowly turn to face Harry, her expression vacant of
any emotion.

Hermione had learnt to occlude at some point, something that was rare for a muggle-born
witch to do. But he could see her, blocking everything out that she was feeling, as her skin
tightened around her cheekbones causing them to hollow slightly. Her lips pressed into a thin,
flat line and her eyes dark, gloomy, and shallower than normal.

Harry barely recognised her as she stared right through him.

How long would it be before she would break?

The thought terrified him to no end. This wasn't his best friend in front of him, but someone
else entirely, and he missed her even though she was standing right there in front of him; she
had changed.

And it wasn't a good change either.

"Let's go eat and then go and see Luna's father to see if he knows anything about that
symbol." Her voice was off, the magic of her walls causing her to sound emotionless as she
blinked once and headed back towards the tent, dropping the sword to the floor in a loud heap
of a thud.

Harry sighed heavily through his nose, stroking Pan under his beak. "I'm worried about her,
Pan," he said as he followed her back to the tent.

"Me too," he said. "They were so in love. And your friend ripped them apart." He said
bitterly.

"I have no idea what he was thinking. We fell out; I don't even know how he found her.
Going to her house was the last place that I thought of."

"He shouldn't have been able to. Master, Draco warded Hermione's parents home. She wasn't
easy to trace; he made sure of that." Pan said.

"You know, Malfoy and I may have had our differences. But if I could, I'd bring him back for
her just to see her smile again." Harry admitted truthfully as he walked inside and found her
back on her cot, knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around herself, and her chin resting on
the top of her arms as she stared across the room of their tent, blinking and barely moving.

Harry left her to grieve, figuring she needed some space as he made them some sandwiches
for the road. Once they were done, they were packed up and apparated straight to Catchpole
Devon, where Luna's father lived.

The humble man allowed them in, his jittery behaviour off as he explained what the symbol
meant.

The Deathly Hallows as Hermione brought up the courage to read the tale of the three
brothers for the first time since Draco's death. He told them that the circle represented the
Resurrection Stone. The line down the centre meant the Elder Wand, and the triangle was the
Cloak of Invisibility.

Hermione, Harry, and Pan thought it was all going well until Xenophelius said that Luna was
kidnapped.

Harry regretted the next question that came out of his mouth, asking who took her.

When Xenophilius activated the taboo, his crooked, chess-shaped house was attacked by
Death Eaters ready to take them.
 ~♡~

Draco-

"What are you doing?!" Theo chased him back down the stairs as Draco threw on his Death
Eater robes, his face furious in murderous rage as he stormed down the stairs trying to find
his mask.

"I'm going to find the weasel and rip his head off from his shoulders!" He started pulling
apart the sofa, throwing the cushions on the floor, trying to find his mask. "Then I'm going to
find her and bring her fucking home!"

"Draco, just calm down!" Draco shot Theo a terrifying glare, a flash of blood red passing
through his irises that made Theo take a steady step back.

"You don't get it, do you? Everything that I have done was for her and to keep her safe! The
connection was so that I could easily find her and go straight to her, and he's broken that
because the bastard murdered me!"

"It's not your fault."

"I know it's not my fault, but that's not the point!" He yelled in furious rage, his nostrils flared
as he upturned the sofa and kicked it hard, letting it collide into the wall, smashing it. "I have
no idea where she is! She could be anywhere! I was such an idiot to keep my back turned and
guard down that he took his chance to strike at me! You never should have let her leave!"

"We had no choice; she stopped us!" Theo argued back, curling his hands into fists by his
sides. "Don't take it out on me, Draco! You have no idea what I've been through having to tell
your parents and listen to your mother scream when she saw your dead body lying in that
kitchen!" He pointed towards the archway.

Draco growled in frustration, running two stressed hands over his face on the verge of
blowing the house to pieces. "Just wait here for me; one of you go back to Malfoy Manor and
tell them that I'm alive! I'm going to find Hermione and--" he stopped, his face creepily
blanking out as a vision burst forth behind his eyes.

He could see her faintly, but he saw her back in her tent, sitting on her cot with her shoulders
slumped. Her expression was depressed, her eyes bloodshot from her tears as he saw his own
blood dried in smears in the shape of his handprint on the side of her face. Potter was behind
her, brushing her hair whilst she was looking down at his mask in her hands.

It changed too quickly, as she placed a broken piece of his mask to her face, and he watched
her clothes change into what he could presume were dragon-riding robes. Then she was
screaming, clutching her arm as Pan and Potter came to her side, as a tattoo of a dragon
magically appeared in her skin, bearing his name in thick black ink underneath it.

Draco's chest heaved as he watched it swirl, the dragon inside of him banging to come out as
he watched her see a vision produce from the Horcrux locket of himself being murdered once
 again in front of her and a voice that resembled Voldemort's mocking her for his death. Then
she destroyed it, slamming the sword down to kill it in an ear-splitting screech.

It changed again, her and Potter in front of a man with long, white blonde hair, with a shaggy
stubble and moth-eaten robes talking to them about the symbol they had seen together.

An animal-like deep growl started to rumble from the pit of his chest, his bones starting to
twist as it had done when he first changed as he watched the moment Loonys father activated
the taboo.

Theo shakily stepped back, his eyes widening as black foggy smoke started to billow out
from Draco's boots, winding its way around his body. He didn't know what he was seeing, but
the way that his once grey eyes were now red, he knew that whatever he was seeing wasn't
good in the slightest.

And then, Draco was running out of the house as the vision kept coming forth in his mind,
and he felt himself begin to change into the dragon. Someone was shouting behind him, but
he couldn't hear them as he felt himself change and grow taller, stronger, and more powerful.

Hampstead suddenly felt small beneath his body as he reared his head back and roared
towards the sky and flapped his wings, which he struggled with at first but managed to lift
himself off the ground as he saw the Death Eaters in his mind, blasting the house to pieces.

Hermione, Pan, and Potter threw themselves to the ground, ornaments, pictures, and bricks
smashing to pieces all around them as they grabbed onto one another and apparated away
before the house crumbled on top of them.

The last thing Draco saw was as he felt where she suddenly was as it faded behind his mind
and his vision turned red as he forced his clumsy new body into the sky, his wings flapping
against the wind in scared rage, was them landing in some forest and snatchers surrounding
them, cornering them in one large intimidating circle.

He bared and gnashed his teeth as the vision swam away and curled his front paws in, the
wind rushing through his scales as he flew faster and harder than he could ever manage on
his broom to get to her once again.

To find her, snatch her up and never let her out of his sights again or turn his back on his
enemy.

I'm coming, Hermione.

Chapter End Notes

Haha, he's going to find her 🤭🤭

But he's back now and I hope you're happy once again that he's back and back for good!
Ron will be explained in the next chapter!

Will reply to you when I can 🥰

End Notes

Debating it, but thinking of doing another Animagus Dragon Draco for this one, not sure yet
haven't decided.

Hope you enjoyed the opening chapter.

Comments are appreciated for mistakes, or ideas or suggestions, I'm always open to
suggestions, but not important.

Kick back, relax and enjoy the ride of our two idiots.

Yours sincerely,

A Dramione writer addict that has no self control over her own mind. 🫶
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!