The pale light of dawn creaked into the warm, wood paneled dorms and landed on the soft eyelids of Harry Potter. He had been enjoying old, familiar dreams that involved a rousing game of Quidditch with Ron, Ginny, his father, Sirius, Fred and George, and though he had never seen him fly, Lupin. Upon waking, Harry was forced to realize the impossibility of those dreams, and of ever having everyone he loved alive at the same time. With a glance to his right, Harry remembered Ron's departure yesterday, and the workaholic part of him was quite relieved to know someone he really trusted would be guarding Malfoy Manor today. Harry's eyes moved across the room, where Malfoy's curtains were closed around the bed. Harry had been awake to hear someone, who was surely Hermione, come into their room last night, though no sounds followed, so either Hermione cast a very good Silencing Charm, or their sleeping arrangements were staying platonic. Hermione had told him about her nightmares, how Bellatrix was reaching into her mind through the scar she had given her nearly a decade ago. Harry remembered the feeling, and couldn't blame her for using anything that helped, even Draco Malfoy's Occlumency block. Finally, Harry completed his slow observation of the quiet bedroom, and found the sunrise glowing welcoming rays at him. An early morning fly around the Quidditch pitch was exactly right.

Careful not to make a sound that would wake up Malfoy and Hermione, Harry pulled on trousers and grabbed his pair of trainers and tiptoed out of the dorms. He was sitting briefly on the couch lacing his shoes when he heard the smooth voice that made the back of his neck warm. "Want company?"

Harry Potter looked up to see Ginny Weasley, long red hair tied back in a ponytail, face bare and freckled, smile tired and eyes warm and brown, holding her broom in her right hand. He wanted to kiss and hug and tackle and race her all at once, and it nearly paralyzed him. Pushing his glasses back up on his nose, he hoped his grin wouldn't give him away. "Yeah, of course." He answered as casually as he could as he stood, grabbed his own Firebolt Nova and led the way out of the Hufflepuff basement. "You're up early."

Ginny shrugged. "Couldn't sleep, really."

Harry walked beside her. "Ron?"

The redhead nodded. "And Bellatrix, and everything." Harry let a quiet sit between them as they entered the cool summer morning air. Ginny was like him. She didn't want comfort, just a space to say what she needed to. He could give that to her. It didn't take long for her to take him up. "I wish I could get everyone back to their lives. I know it isn't, but sometimes this whole thing feels like my fault." Harry opened his mouth to put her worries to rest, but she continued. "It's just that I can't catch her. And I don't know how long we could all be in hiding. I'm worried Ron was just the first, and if anything happens to him…I'll just feel awful. I asked the Patils to come today and give an update. Maybe between that and Hermione's research..."

They had reached the pitch. Harry stared up at the shining golden hoops, wishing he had a real game to play, a real Snitch to catch. He wondered how the dewy grass would feel between his toes. He wondered if Ginny's skin was still warm from sleep or perhaps had a sheen of sweat from the walk and the morning humidity. Harry had just given himself permission to reach over and squeeze her hand when he felt her unmistakable lips on his cheek. "Thanks" she said in a straight-forward tone, and then she was on her broom and shooting up into the air. Harry was determined to catch her.

Hermione woke up with Draco's arm draped over her shoulder, her backside tucked into the curve of his sleeping body. She hadn't been dreaming at all. Comforted by this realization, she flipped over and curled deeper into the man, letting his arm tuck under her so she was tight against him, her face in his chest, allowing her access to all the minty spicy cleanness of him. "I didn't dream" she whispered to him, perfectly aware that he was still deep in slumber. Yet he made a little low contented "mm-hmm" sound and pulled her closer. Hermione wondered if it was conscious and then she fell back into sleep.

Harry quickly caught up with Ginny, who then turned around and began chasing him, her laughter audible in the rush of wind. In, out, and around the golden hoops they flew, dipping low into feints and climbing high up until the rising sun blinded them. They chased each other, then raced, then flew lazy slow circles around the pitch. Ginny took off her shoes first, curling her toes into the grass. Harry followed suit, losing his sweatshirt as the day began to heat up. They did broom tricks for each other, Ginny lying flat on the broom while it hovered a few feet off the ground. Harry stood on his broom, balancing and reaching as if for a stubborn Snitch. Eventually they found themselves laying on the lawn, side by side, sweaty and giddy and enjoying that balance of an alert mind and tired body.

Draco woke up to the strong smell of chamomile shampoo and hairs tickling his face. It took him another moment to feel the girl in his arms, and another to remember the night before and her crawling into his four-poster for the second night in a row. He looked down. Merlin, she was beautiful. Even sleeping, her face crunched against his t-shirt and her hair wild from slumber. Draco thought he would like to count every eyelash that rested against her dark cheeks like a painting in sepia. Draco realized suddenly that he was quite hard, and also needed to pee. Fuck. Not wanting to disturb her, Draco wondered if he could make himself fall asleep again, forgetting his bladder and hoping she didn't notice what her own lower half was pressed up against. But he had to admit defeat quickly, and struggled to pull away without waking her up. Miraculously, Hermione gave only a little moan as he removed his arm from around her and she resettled into the mattress. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back." He whispered pointlessly.

When Draco returned from the bathroom, his bed was empty. With a small creak of opening the dorm door, Draco knew why. There were too many voices coming from the common room.

Ginny's mind was slightly less worried and restless after her morning with Harry. Her body felt good and strong and sunned, and she hoped the Patils would bring some good news. As she followed Harry through the barrel-like entrance to their new common room, she wondered when they might show up. Her question was answered when she saw the spooky pair of twins sat uncomfortably in the overstuffed yellow armchairs and talking to Hermione, who was still in her pajamas and looking quite half-asleep. Padma's usually dark and witchy looks were especially dramatic against the cozy backdrop of the Hufflepuff common room. Parvati's hair was now a shade of fuchsia that was almost hard to look at in the morning.

"Ginny, there you are." Hermione greeted them with a cheerful hospitality that didn't quite suit her.

"Hey! Good morning Parvati, Padma. You two are here early." Ginny smiled at her troops.

"No worries if you need to shower or eat or anything before we meet, Ginny. We came early so that we'd have time to visit Trelawney later, there's no rush." Parvati's extra-feminine voice calmed Ginny like a balm. Padma silently pursed her lips and Harry stood there, shifting between his feet. Hermione's arms were trying to cover her unsupported chest without curling up into a ball right there on the couch.

In the middle of all the friendly awkwardness entered Draco Malfoy, looking just as sleepy as Hermione, only his pajamas were immaculately wrinkle-free. "Morning all" His wry hello rolled off his tongue. Ginny glanced at his broad shoulders and the way his black tee-shirt contrasted with his pale skin. She'd never admit it to Harry, but she almost understood Hermione's crush. As if he heard her thoughts, Harry's hand was suddenly on her lower back. The warmth of it sent something like a tingle up through her spine and made her clench to keep from jumping his bones right there. Ginny and Draco sat on the couch on either side of Hermione. Ginny watched both of their bodies tense as they inched closer together. Harry sat in the last chair, his hair still damp from sweat, falling over his glasses. Ginny could see the little bit of sun on his nose and cheekbones.

"Alright ladies, what do you have?"

Parvati leaned forward in her chair, her cool demeanor threatened by her excitement. "Padma had a vision yesterday." Ginny tried not to get too eager herself as she looked between the two sisters. Padma nodded dreamily. "We focused on the list, and we were lucky."

The whole room was anxious now. "Well? What was it?" Harry urged softly.

Padma, all black gauze and dark eyeliner, spoke in a voice darker than her sister's. "It's best to hear the recording." She pulled out of her robes what looked like a Rememberall, only it had dark violet swirls floating inside, a color Ginny had never seen in a Rememberall before. With a wave of her wand, Padma made the ball spin in its place, as the swirls grew into a velvety blue and began to glow.

The ball spoke in Padma's voice.

The lions will be paralyzed, or else they will abide

The twin, cowardly, will hide

The mother may defeat the witch if the knight refrains

The virgin, though she flies, must meet the knife again.

The air in the Hufflepuff common room stopped moving. Only the magical plants that breathed and the birds outside made sounds. Ginny's mind rolled around in the words she mostly didn't understand. George was the only twin she knew, and half of the people on the list were Gryffindor lions. The mother could be Narcissa, but it could really be anyone. No one on the list was a virgin, she was sure of that.

"What does it mean?" It was Harry's voice, still soft, still tired from flying. He barely took up that armchair.

Padma sat back. Parvati leaned forward. "We have a theory. You all did your star charts in Divination right?"

"I didn't." Hermione spoke up, subtly pulling her hand out of Malfoy's between them on the couch.

"Neither did I." Malfoy looked like he was regretting this choice. "We both took Arithmancy." The girly part of Ginny wanted to giggle at his use of the plural pronoun.

But Ginny understood, and addressed Parvati. "Hermione's a Virgo. When's your birthday, Malfoy?"

"June 5th." Hermione whispered the answer. Malfoy turned sharply to look at her. Harry raised an eyebrow.

Ginny addressed at Parvati, her mouth falling open with realization. "The twin. Harry and I are Leo's."

Parvati nodded. "Good, then the only ones that aren't clear are the mother and the knight, but those could be tarot or other constellations and we can figure that out."

Hermione stood and began to pace behind the couch, murmuring under her breath. Malfoy sat still. Harry's leg bounced up and down. Ginny watched them all and listened to Hermione mumble "The twin…the virgin…the lions…fly…"

"I have to fight her." Hermione's voice was clear, cutting across the room like a bell.

It was looking at Harry's eyes, not his own, that brought her realization. Because Harry was suddenly afraid not only for her, and everything Padma's prophecy had shared, but for him. Hermione had seen that sheen of apology in his eyes before, looking at her when he asked Ron to go on a particularly dangerous job for the DMLE. He was acknowledging Draco's fears…for her.

Hermione's glance flashed to Draco's eyes, searching in his for what Harry's had told her. She found the usually icy gray pupils staring determinedly at her: confident, not cocky, and brave, not hiding. They were full of goose-down and comfort. They wanted her in his arms. They were the same ones she had seen in sleepy mornings and in the library and in occlumency lessons, but she knew what they meant now. They were looking right at her, begging her but admiring her, and she was absolutely falling apart in them. She felt her knees buckle and her lips open. "Oh." Was all she had in her to say.

Hermione found her seat on the couch again, suddenly exhausted. She wished Draco wasn't sitting next to her, always stiff and polite and just right there, all body and smell and eyes on her. She wished she could forget what she had just learned. She let Ginny take over, asking questions about the prophecy, having Padma play it again, asking about the mother and the knight, when none of that mattered to Hermione, because she had endured enough epiphanies for today, thank you. She needed a break. She needed a long walk around the castle, probably alone.

Hours later, Hermione was leaning against the railing of Ravenclaw Tower. Focused on the bold haze of the sunset on the long green expanse beneath them, overwhelmed with the nostalgia of the smell and feel of six years of evenings a lifetime ago, Hermione didn't hear Harry come up behind her until he announced his presence with a cough, standing beside her and finding the same stunning view.

"Gaining any wisdom?" Harry half-joked.

"How'd you get in here?"

"Same way you did, I reckon." He shrugged.

"You answered the riddle?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, impressed at her friend.

"Oh. No, secret passageway." Harry raised his left hand, which contained the old Marauder's Map. She couldn't help but chuckle.

"Are the twins gone?"

Harry nodded.

"Did you figure the rest of it out?"

Another shrug. "Mostly. The knight could be a lot of things, apparently. Most of it could."

Hermione nodded, but the bitterness that had engulfed her whole day still remained, and Harry knew her well enough to see it.

"Did I ever tell you what Dumbledore told me about prophecies?" Hermione shook her head and sighed, two small, defeated movements. "Ah well, I hated hearing it so that's probably why." If it wasn't annoying her, Harry's chipper attitude would have worked to cheer her up. "He told me that the only reason Trelawney's prophecy meant anything, was because Voldemort chose to act on it. He bought into it. If he had never heard it, never gone after me or Neville, it wouldn't have meant anything."

"Why did you hate hearing that?"

Harry smiled. He smiled so much more as an adult than he had as a child, it was almost eerie. "Because I always had a feeling, since our first year, that first time, I just had a feeling it would have to be me that defeated him. There was no point in a hypothetical conversation, it was already true."

Hermione grinned at the boy who saw through her. "Yeah." Her voice was quiet, sure. "That's how it feels."

Harry's simple nod was a comfort. It was indescribably good, having people who knew your heart.

Hermione let another minute pass before she tried the question that was pulling at her. "So Malfoy…"

Harry raised an eyebrow, but didn't turn to look at her. She could feel the subtle judgment within it. She shouldn't need him to say this; he shouldn't be the one giving her this information.

"Just. So I know I'm not going insane and imagining things, Harry? Please." Hermione pressed her lips together tightly, keeping in breath and a thousand feelings she wasn't ready for.

His lips carefully hiding a smile, Harry nodded and gave in, all without turning to her. "You're not imagining things. I'm pretty sure he's mad for you."

Hermione pushed out the breath. Relief.

"Has been for awhile, I expect." She found she had lost the rhythm of breathing, because there was no way she focused on it this much.

"You don't seem…upset?" Hermione could tell they were reaching Harry's limit on being able to talk about emotions, and he was the only one capable of talking right now, apparently. She couldn't find words she wanted out there on the record and everything. "I take it you've started to trust him?" She answered with an easy nod. Of course she trusted him. Probably since the lessons had begun, but maybe before then. Maybe it was the night with the mud, when he had showered her and given her so much tenderness. Lost in nostalgia, she almost didn't hear Harry's next words. "Hermione…do you think you might feel the same way?"

Hermione turned to Harry with such violence that her neck cracked, and found he was looking at her too. Fazed with realization and unable to control her reaction, she had to feel what she was telling Harry silently: her eyes were wide with fear, her cheeks hot with excitement, her mouth agape in confusion, her throat choking for an answer that wouldn't come. He smiled sympathetically at her, and with another glance at the coral sky, turned to leave the tower.

"Harry wait." Hermione turned around, leaving the view for better things. "Do you know where he is?"

Harry's eyebrows raised slightly, but Hermione ignored them. "Last I saw he was going down to the lake." Hermione whipped around, wondering if she could spot him from her perch, but the lake was on the other side of the castle. She looked at Harry. Their grins matched. "Thanks." She ran.

Draco wasn't at the lake.

Draco had abandoned the stuffy, overly sunny common room with a headache. After Hermione's departure, the Patil twins, Ginny, and Harry had picked apart the prophecy with agonizing attention. Tarot cards and smoky incense had been called for. Personally, Draco had never seen much value in the practice of divination, and wished the people who were in charge of his-and his mother's- protection weren't putting quite so much stock in the work of two novice Seers. But Draco didn't have control over much lately, and he wasn't about to lose it over this, not when they had so little to go on as far as research or plans to defeat his wicked aunt. And then there was Granger. If the prophecy was real, it was clear she would have to deal with Bellatrix's cursed knife again, which admittedly implied getting close to the bitch. But maybe not. Prophecies were tricky things, subtle and fuzzy and unclear, and that was purposeful. Even the best Seer was looking at a thousand possible futures, finding a few consistencies and putting ideas into wizards' heads about what they might mean. One thing Draco was sure of: if he was going to keep protecting her, he needed to return to the research around performing magic with that knife.

The library was dark and silent, far less fun without granger whispering in his ear and mumbling as she read, and it was making his headache worse to read in the dim yellow light. Irritated, restless, and unable to sit still, Draco left the library. He wished he could head down to the Slytherin common room, somewhere he knew had the right balance of light and dark and cool, calm watery sounds to lower his racing heartrate. But without a password he would only get himself more worked up trying to get into his old home. The grounds were too bright, the kitchens too crowded. And suddenly, Draco knew exactly where he wanted to be.

Sitting on the nearest ledge, looking out into the stone courtyard, Draco closed his eyes, imagining Shell Cottage and the beach behind it. Making a note to write Bill Weasley with an imagined reason to visit the little family, Draco settled for memories. Conjuring in his mind navy clouds and white rays of shielded sun, crashing gray waves and a pebbly beach, Draco could almost hear little Victoire asking to play, could almost see Granger's eyes bright and dark against the muted colors as they watched him. He could even see his own pale skin and white hair nearly glowing as he dove into the water. His bones could almost feel the strength of a cold morning swim. Feeling his heart slow into a normal rhythm, feeling his mental walls tumble, he found his breathing, imagining with each inhale the scent of salted and the soap he had so softly rubbed into Hermione's skin that night.

"Where are you?" Hermione's voice came into Draco's reality smoothly; he realized she was whispering, and she was close, blocking the sun in the courtyard.

Sure enough that it was her that he didn't open his eyes, his answer matched her tone. "The beach."

She sat next to him on the ledge, he could tell from the way the light changed, the way her arm brushed his. "Shell?"

Draco opened his eyelids slowly, hiding from the anticipated harsh light. But it hadn't been her that had blocked the sun, and the clouds that covered the sky now were a kind relief to him. She was next to him though, so near their pinkies brushed where their hands held onto the stone ledge. Almost as close as she had been this morning, in his bed. He suddenly found his breath came deeper and easier with her there, with her chamomile-girl scent to breathe in.

"You miss it?" She looked up at him, her lower lip poking out just a bit at her question.

Draco nodded, worried his words could ruin this, could make her run from this peaceful moment. Feeling like the teenager he hadn't had the chance to be, his heart jumped when her head was on his shoulder. She sighed deeply and he tried not to watch her chest rise and fall. "I miss it too."

Draco reminded himself to breathe, to be cool, to stop thinking about what Blaise would say, what his father would think, what Draco of only a month ago would do if a girl he couldn't stop thinking about leaned into him like this and he simply put his arm around Hermione Granger, pulling her waist into him, letting her head fall into his chest, letting her look up at him again, those amber eyes pouring into him.

"Draco?" Her voice saying his name was a shock of cool ocean in his bones, his skin erupting in goosebumps at the sound. He didn't have a chance to respond. "Are you afraid?"

Gods. She couldn't ask a simple question. Of course he was afraid. For her. For him. For his mother. For the wizarding world he had already seen lose itself in violence and blind hate. He said nothing. He nodded slowly, watching her eyes watch his chin move in answer. "Are you?" Be afraid. You Gryffindors make stupid mistakes when you're brave. Don't make a stupid mistake with this, Granger, not with her.

"Of course." Draco's sigh moved Hermione's curls.

"Good." He said into her hair. I don't even have you and I can't lose you.

"Draco?" The ocean, his ocean, their ocean, again.

"Do you know what would make me feel better? Less scared, I mean?"

She pulled away from his chest, facing him. It was like your favorite dinner being taken away from you before you had a second bite just as your favorite desert was plopped in front of you instead. She looked at him unabashedly, the girl from the other night who was confident in what she wanted and who she was. The brightest witch of their age. The muggle-born who would, he was almost sure, defeat Bellatrix Lestrange. "What?" His voice cracked on the word. He tried not to care; she didn't seem to notice.

Hermione bit her lower lip, her eyes falling to her lap, then back up to his, all nerve and bravery and shining gold. "Kiss me, Malfoy."

Oh, fuck. He wanted to ask if she was sure. If she was ready. If he was imagining things. If this was real. But those were stupid questions, not worthy of her intelligence.

He hopped down from the low ledge. Watching her face fall, thinking he was denying her, running away.

She began to stammer mostly to herself. "I meant…oh hell, it was all in my head, I'm sorry Malfoy..."

"Shut up." His voice was back. Smooth, adult, fully in this place. His words made her mouth drop open in surprise. He stood, blocking the sun from her, pulling her hair back, pulling her into him, nearly falling off the ledge, trusting his hold. Draco looked into Hermione's eyes, finding millions of words and a thousand oceans, but nothing so good as to keep him from her lips. When his lips met hers, soundless bursts of crashing waves and sparkling charms went off in him, and he thought he might give up oceans for good, if he could only be here instead.

A/N: I told you I'd give you big things after all that Hogwarts silliness! It may be a few weeks before another update, as I have a couple trips planned back to back, but we'll earn that M rating soon, I promise. Do review, I can't wait to hear your thoughts about this one!