Humanity was a funny thing, especially during the war.

It got a bit confusing when you blurred the lines between good or bad. Friend or foe.

Enemy or lover.

Humanity:

synonyms: compassion, kindness, consideration, understanding, sympathy, tolerance

All of those things were blurry during the war.

Especially when your feelings for someone were equally as blurred.

It was hard to remember when someone was very obviously your enemy when your heart...and other things were involved.

Humanity was a funny thing.

How were you supposed to stay loyal to your side, when something like this felt so...right?

And that's not to say my side was something to be proud to be on - but still.

Hermione fucking Granger had totally fucked up my sense of responsibility.

Well no, I guess she'd just changed what I felt responsible for.

Who I felt responsible for.

I didn't get to see her nearly as often as I wanted to, and every time she told me about the things she and her band of nitwit friends had gotten themselves into to find those god damn Horcruxes I felt like I wouldn't ever let her leave again.

But of course I did. I had to. But fuck it all if I didn't wish that I could do something - fucking anything - to fix this shit, to fix my family's beliefs, to fix Voldemort's fucking insane ideologies - to fix all of it.

But I couldn't. There wasn't a damn thing I, or anyone else could do about it. We all just had to wait. Wait for something to happen; for Potter to figure out how to stop Voldemort, or for Voldemort to kill Potter.

We just had to fucking wait.

And that was the hardest part, because you didn't know what the hell you were waiting for.

Either way I was pretty fucked.

If Potter managed to succeed I was going to Azkaban to rot with the rest of the idiots like me who took the Dark Mark - Pansy, Theo, Blaise, my mother, my father - fucking hell.

If Voldemort won I'd end up dead even sooner, because there was no fucking way I was going to be able to let them torture her...they'd have to kill me first, and I knew they would.

So yeah. Either way I was pretty fucked.

She didn't like to talk about that though. She didn't like to talk about the war at all - not that I was too eager to talk about it either.

"What would you name our kids?"

"Kids? You want more than one?"

She looked at me, that mess on her head that she passed of as hair even more tangled than usual and said, "Yes. Don't you?"

I'd honestly never thought about having one, let alone more than that.

"I don't know, Granger."

I would've left it at that, but the look on her face forced me to say, "But I wouldn't mind it with you...besides," I said, lightening the mood, "Our children would be beautiful and smart."

"I assume I'm to be the smart half of that." she said wryly.

I chuckled, tugging her closer to me under the blankets, "No, you're beautiful and smart. But you already know that."

"I just like to hear you say it." she said, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw.

It was moments like this that made it easy to forget.

Easy to forget good or bad. Friend or foe. Enemy or lover.

Hermione or Draco.

It was fucking easy. It was so easy that it was almost unfair that it wasn't actually reality.

"What would you name the first one?"

"Scorpius." I said, giving her the first name that popped into my head.

She smiled, "Like the constellation."

"Yeah...I suppose so."

"I like it. Except it's no name for a girl."

"A girl?"

"It'd be a girl."

I snorted, "Maybe after the first one."

"What, why?"

"Because the first Malfoy is always a boy." I said simply.

"Well maybe this time it won't be." she said, her little nose turned up.

Instead of arguing I leaned forward, pressing my lips to hers.

I didn't give a damn what the sex of our first kid would be - hell I didn't give a damn if they were all girls who ended up in fucking Hufflepuff. The only thing that mattered was that it was even possible for us to have them in the first place, because that would mean this pointless fucking war would be over with - and by some miracle I wasn't rotting in Azkaban.

Or dead.

Her skin was soft and I slid my hand down her side, desperate to feel more of her, because I knew our time was limited.

The sun would be rising soon, and then who knew when I'd see her again.

But if I were completely honest with myself, I knew that the only reason I hadn't offed myself, or done something that would've ended up with me in the same spot - dead - was because of her. Because the thought of seeing those toffee eyes, that wild curly hair - it made every fucked up and vile thing that happened worth suffering through.

"I don't want to leave you." she murmured against my lips.

"I know."

I shifted so that I hovered above her and pressed a series of soft kisses down her neck to her collarbones and lower.

"I'm terrified of losing you."

"I know."

I moved back up to her face, to kiss the tears from her cheeks - even though I felt like my fucking heart was tearing itself apart.

It shouldn't have been possible to feel this way about one person. One seemingly insignificant person in this gigantic universe - but I did. I fucking did.

"I'm scared that you'll forget about me."

I had to force the wavering from my voice before saying, "I know." But it sounded broken, even to my ears.

"I'm afraid that I'm not important to you."

But she was. She had to know that she was the most important thing.

"I love you," I thought, but I didn't say it. What good would it have done, even if I had?

"You know that I do, Granger." I said, hinting to the words we both knew we couldn't say aloud, "You know that I don't want you to leave, you know that I'm terrified of losing you, scared that you'll forget about me. You bloody well know that you're important to me."

"I want that to make it easier." she said, her voice breaking.

"I know." I said, before capturing her lips in a kiss.

And then there were no more words, because what was left to say?

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