"No one can know, that's what he said."

If she hadn't seen his lips move, she might not have heard him, he was speaking so quietly.

"I shouldn't even been telling you, but…" he trailed off, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. Something deep in her stomach gave a sudden jolt as the meaning of his words hit home.

"So this is goodbye, then," she tried to say cheerfully, but her voice wavered over the last two words and the effect was somewhat lost. He swung his gaze up to meet hers, his expression suddenly blank and unreadable.

"Yes," he replied simply. His voice had lost the warmth it had held just moments before. The single word left a chill in the air, even though it was early June. She knew better than to take offense, though.

"You don't have to do it, you know."

"What would you have me do, Hermione? Stay here, play nice with Potter and Weasel and all the others who can barely conceal the fact that they despise me? Don't pretend it isn't so," he added when she opened her mouth to protest, "I know what they say behind my back. I wonder if they'll still call me coward now," he added, almost inaudibly.

Hermione felt the familiar, sudden need to be at his side, to comfort him and tell him it was all lies, lies - but she knew the truth. She didn't speak for a few long moments.

"Draco," she breathed, and his eyes lifted once more to look into hers, searching. She knew he could hear the tone of her voice, see that she was trembling, and his once-expressionless face was filled with pain, with concern - for her. The idiot could be concerned for her well-being when it was his life that was in danger. It sent her over the edge.

"Don't," he muttered, as her eyes filled with hot tears. But she didn't try to stop the tears now, now that she had begun to think of all the things that could happen to him, she knew it would be no use to try to keep from crying. Especially not with him standing so near, yet worlds away already.

Suddenly she was in his arms, breathing in his scent like it was the breath of life, his strong arms wrapped securely around her.

"Please," she sobbed into his shoulder. "Why can't you stay…the Order could find another spy…"

He gently pulled himself from her embrace and tilted her face up so he could look full into her eyes. Her long, unruly hair was pulled back into a messy plait down her back, but some of the shorter pieces had pulled loose and hung in her face. He pushed her hair back out of her eyes with his hands; she closed her eyes on his touch.

"I can't, Hermione, and you know that. I can't ask someone else to risk their life this way. Besides," he added bitterly, "what the Order needs is a Death Eater, someone who can play both sides of the fence…and here I am, ready-made."

Hermione sniffed and nodded. She understood. They needed a replacement double-agent, after all that had happened…after Snape had…but she couldn't bear the thought and pushed it away. Snape's betrayal had hurt them all.

"They need you," she acknowledged, breathing more deeply now, forcing herself to stop crying. She wiped the traitorous tears away with the back of her hand. She needed to get a grip on herself.

She slowly untangled herself from Draco's arms and turned away, suddenly embarrassed at her own selfishness.

He didn't fight her, not really, as she took a few steps to put a bit of distance between them. She could hear his breathing behind her, short and uneven. He made no move to follow her. They stood there for almost a full minute.

"Hermione."

It was so soft, so quiet, that she really couldn't be sure she heard him this time. It didn't matter, not now. This was what he'd come to tell her. That it was over, that it had to be, because his life was going to be too unpredictable, too dangerous now.

He couldn't afford to be attached to her.

In her mind, she knew all of this. She could almost hear his argument, that he wouldn't allow Voldemort to have any sort of reason to come after her, to hurt her. She could hear him so clearly in her head that she didn't need to hear those explanations out loud. It would be almost too much to bear.

She knew it would be easier if she stopped fighting him and let him go.

"Hermione?" he repeated uncertainly from behind her.

"When?" she asked softly.

"Tonight."

"Will I see you again?"

"Hermione. Look at me, will you? Please look at me."

She didn't know if she could do it without dissolving into tears again, but she knew she couldn't refuse him. He was still as stone, standing a few paces back from her. Her eyes fluttered up to meet his.

Suddenly she was in his arms again, not knowing who had moved or how it had happened, but it didn't matter.

All that mattered was his lips on hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her, crushing her to him; she stood on tiptoe to reach him better and locked her arms around his neck. All she knew was she didn't ever want to let him go.

Then - too soon - he released her and turned away, his back to her, so she couldn't see his face.

"It's over, Hermione. It has to be. Please understand."

She did.