Author's Note: We've finally made it to seventh year! Don't worry, all your questions from the last chapter will be answered... just maybe not today ;) A quick note that there is some mention of blood in this chapter for anyone who is squeamish.

August 1997

Ginny,

I'm sorry for leaving without saying goodbye. I don't know the nature of our departure, but I know that we'll have done it without alerting anyone. Your mum would have tried to stop us, and we have to go. Harry seems to believe that the fate of the wizarding world rests on his shoulders, and Ron and I can't let him go on this hunt alone.

Tucked in the bottom of your trunk are a couple of necklaces, one for you and one for Lav. The pendants have the same charm as the Galleons we used for the DA, but the message will only go between the three of us. It won't be safe to send letters or Patronuses, but I worry that we'll need to still pass messages back and forth.

Stay safe this year. I'm scared that the safety of Hogwarts will be diminished, and you might be in as much danger there as we are here — wherever 'here' is. I'll keep Harry and Ron out of trouble. They mean well, but their courage and bravery often toe the line of stupidity, and I worry if someone isn't there to stop them, they'll get hurt.

If you can, keep an eye on a certain blond prat. After what happened in June, I'm more and more convinced that something isn't right. That's not him, Gin, but I don't know what to do to prove it…

I love you.

Hermione

September 1997

Snape is in charge. Death Eaters are teaching. We are still safe. -LB

Ferret looks worse than last year. Like a ghost. -GW

Hermione sighed and tucked the necklace back into her sweater. They had been gone for over a month and had only found one Horcrux. There was still no way to safely destroy it. She wasn't expecting to have destroyed them all in a month, but she was hoping that they would at least have a plan to get rid of them.

What happened if they found them all but couldn't do anything more?

Ginny and Lavender's daily messages were keeping her sane. They had been back to school for a week and already they were worried about what the next ten months might hold. With Death Eaters in charge, there was no saying what might happen.

During their escape from the Ministry, Ron had been splinched and was in the tent recovering. It hadn't taken them long to realise that wearing the locket was affecting them mentally and so they took turns.

"Harry," she whispered, approaching where he sat outside the tent. "It's my turn. You need to get some rest."

"How is he?"

She shrugged. Ron's injuries were healing but unless they used their entire supply of Dittany, they would need to let his wound heal naturally.

"He'll get better. Now, go sleep."

Slipping the necklace off, Harry handed it to her, his mouth turned downward. "I don't like you wearing it," he said.

"And I don't like that you have an evil wizard in your mind. In order to get rid of that"—she motioned towards his scar—"I need to wear this."

Sighing, he left her alone outside the tent. Hermione wasn't sure how the next few weeks or months would go while they were all stuck together, living off the land and what they had been able to pack quickly.

She pulled out her medallion and tapped her wand against it, watching as the words appeared and glowed before sinking into the metal.

Got one. RW is hurt but recovering. Unsure of next steps. -HG

Are you alright? -GW

Leave it to Ginny to bypass her brother's health and ask about Hermione's. She charmed the next message to go only to Ginny.

I'm fine. Thanks for checking on Ferret. Worse how? -HG

It was a few moments before the next message appeared and Hermione was beginning to worry. She had tried hard to let go of Draco, but the idea that he was cursed or under the influence of someone else kept nagging at her. Even if he really didn't want to be with her anymore, she still wanted to know that he was going to be alright.

His eyes are glassy and he looks sickly. HP is right. Must be a curse. -GW

Hermione didn't write back, unable to find the words to express her feelings. They needed to destroy the Horcruxes so she could get back to Draco and figure out what was wrong with him.

Anything we can do at the castle to help? -GW

Need the Sword of Gryffindor. -HG

I'll get it. Hang tight. -GW

October 1997

They're teaching us Unforgivables. RoR is a safe space. -LB

No change in Ferret. Haven't been able to see him lately though. -GW

Hermione looked up at Harry, who was in the midst of a fight with Ron. She knew Ron had been wearing the necklace for too long but he never wanted to take it off. He was trying to protect them, saying it was his way to contribute, but it had all led up to the moment when Ron snapped.

"Oh, you're sure, are you? Right then, well, I won't bother myself about them. It's all right for you two, isn't it, with your parents safely out of the way—"

"My parents are dead!"

Hermione held back the sob that was building up in her chest. For Ron to think that she and Harry were fine living like this, that they weren't concerned about their families — blood or not — was insulting. This was why she hadn't told him she was able to communicate with Lavender and Ginny. He would have spent hours bent over the medallion waiting to hear from them, just as he did with the radio.

Erasing her parents' memories had been the hardest decision she'd ever had to make, and Ron threw it back at her as if it were nothing. They weren't dead, but she wasn't sure that they were safe either, and it was keeping her awake at night. As soon as she'd arrived home after sixth year, she'd sent them off to Austria. Within a week, their house had been sold and all their possessions had been put into storage.

"What are you doing?" he snapped, pulling her attention back to the tent.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you staying, or what?"

She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. "I… Yes… yes, I'm staying. Ron, we said we'd go with Harry, we said we'd—"

"I get it. You're always picking someone else over me. If it's not him"—Ron gestured to Harry—"it's Malfoy. It's never been me. No one ever puts me first and I'm fucking done!"

His face was nearly the colour of his hair and his blue eyes were hardened with rage. He stormed out of the tent, and before Hermione could pull herself together enough to respond, the quiet pop of Apparition echoed into the tent.

"He's gone, he's—" The emotion building in her chest burst, and like a dam finally breaking, she let out every ounce of anger and sadness and heartache she had been holding in for the past few months.

Harry pulled her down onto one of the cots and wrapped his arms around her. His hand rubbed calming circles on her back until she was able to control her tears and settle them into quiet sniffles.

She lay there silently, listening for the change in Harry's breathing that signaled he was asleep. Carefully untangling herself from his hold, she slipped out of the tent and sat against one of the large trees, her head tipped back and looking up at the night sky.

It was easy to find, the glittering stars in the sky where the dragon stared back at her. Being mid-autumn, the constellation wasn't as clear as it was in the summer, but the effects of it were all the same. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his arm around her, his scent wafting in the air, his voice a low hum telling her it was alright.

Everything was going to be alright.

RW is gone. Keep an eye out. Don't freak out LB. -HG

HE WHAT?! -LB

He took off. Not sure where. We need to move. -HG

It took everything in her not to leave something for Ron, to give him a clue as to where they were going, but it would be too dangerous. They had no way of knowing if they were two steps in front or behind the Death Eaters and giving them any hint could be deadly.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, kicking a rock in front of him.

She nodded her head, a knot forming in her stomach. "Yes. We have to keep going."

They packed up their things, and holding tight to one another, Hermione whisked them away to another hillside.

Far away from Ron and Hogwarts and Draco.

November 1997

Weeks had gone by without so much as a word from Ron. Ginny hadn't mentioned anything to Hermione about him showing up at the school or the Burrow and she was beginning to worry. Had one of the Snatchers caught him? Was he being tortured in order to get information about her and Harry's whereabouts?

Information passed between Hermione, Lavender, and Ginny had become scarce. They still checked in almost daily, ensuring the other group was still alive, but without any changes or movements on either side, there wasn't much to report.

Her medallion burned hot against her skin and she pulled the metal out to read the message.

More students being tortured. RoR has half the school. -GW

Snakes? -HG

None. No way to tell if good or bad. -GW

And Ferret? -HG

No change. I'm sorry. -GW

They needed to destroy this Horcrux and find the others, fast. With every passing day, it felt like their chances at winning were slipping away, too. Their food supply was gone and Harry's irritability from wearing the locket was wearing on her nerves, though she was certain if asked, he would say the same.

She turned and looked at her companion, his eyes glassy and red rimmed. "My turn with it. You need rest."

"No, I—" He looked up at her and sighed. "I just want one night without worrying about You-Know-Who coming into my dreams. I'm terrified, Hermione."

Coming to sit down next to him, she tugged the locket from his neck and placed it on the table between them. Harry shifted and rested his head on her shoulder, his body sagging without the added stress of the Horcrux.

"I'll keep watch while you sleep. Of you and the tent," she said. Her hand lifted and she combed her fingers through the hair sticking up at the back of his head. "You've protected me. Now it's my turn."

He nodded his head before moving to the cot closest to her. "I don't know what I would have done without you." His eyes fluttered a few times before finally closing, and his breathing slowed to a steady pace.

Hermione sat by him for a few hours, the locket tucked safely around her neck and her wand trained at the door of the tent.

She hadn't been able to protect Malfoy, and Ron was off somewhere unknown. She would protect Harry with every ounce of her magic, if it was the last thing she did.

December 1997

RW came back. One destroyed. Happy Christmas. -HG

Luna is missing. Don't tell HP. He'll get distracted. -GW

Tell Won-Won I miss him. -LB

Fuck LB! INITIALS ONLY! -GW

Hermione smiled as she tucked her medallion back into her shirt. Ginny was right, telling Harry and Ron that Luna was missing would only derail their hunt further and they didn't need that. Much as she wanted to tell the boys about her communication with their significant others, she knew it was best to keep this information close to her chest.

Christmas with Harry hadn't gone as planned and they were initially down a wand, unable to properly protect themselves if the time came. But, while Ron had spent the past two months at Shell Cottage, he was able to pick up information about the war and what was going on, and return with a wand for Harry to use.

As long as they didn't say Voldemort's name, they might stand a chance at making it to the end of this.

January 1998

They had nearly been caught because of Xenophilius Lovegood's actions and it made Hermione question whether or not she made the right choice by keeping Luna's disappearance a secret in the first place.

Of course, going there and exposing themselves to a worried and anxious father had been a dumb idea. Harry learning about the Deathly Hallows and being convinced that it was his mission to find them was a whole other level of stupidity, though.

If he ever questioned why she stayed by his side through it all, she would merely mention this to him. Dumbledore told Harry about the Horcruxes. He wanted them to find the Horcruxes. Staying focused, staying vigilant, was what was most important.

Luna isn't at home. -HG

How do you know? -GW

Visited her father. HP wants to change mission. -HG

You can't let him. Things are bad here. -GW

Caught a glimpse of Ferret on the train. Looks worse. Hurry up. -GW

Hermione worried her bottom lip between her teeth. Her fear for her classmate's safety was rivalled by the fact that she was almost certain her ex-boyfriend was the one causing the problems.

"'Mione, you alright?" asked Ron, finding her sitting outside the tent.

She nodded her head, discreetly slipping the necklace back under her jumper. "Of course, just worried is all."

"Me too. Harry's daft trying to go after the Deathly Hallows, right? They're not real, you know that?"

"Yes, Ron. It's just a fairy tale. He needs to stay focused. That's why we're here."

He reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry I left. I should have never done that. Or said that you and Harry didn't care. I know—" He stopped and swallowed deeply. "I know that you've both lost so much already, and I don't even know what it's like to lose someone."

"And you won't, so long as Harry and I can help it. Your family is as much ours as it is yours. Nothing is going to happen to them."

March 1998

Going home for Easter. Stay safe. -GW

You too. Where's LB? -HG

Staying at Hogwarts. How is camping? -GW

Fine. Quiet. Too quiet. -HG

It wasn't a lie, either. January and February had been surprisingly calm for the trio and it had Hermione on edge. They were no closer to finding what they needed, but there had been no attacks on their camp either.

The sky had been dark grey, like a storm was approaching, like the events of their so-called camping trip were about to turn.

Ron had finally gotten the damn radio to work, bringing up a programme called Potterwatch. The familiar voices of Lee Jordan, Kingsley, Fred, and George sent a feeling of warmth through Hermione's chest and, for the first time in months, it felt like they might actually have a chance. The Order was still there, still fighting, still keeping the spirit alive.

She was preparing to step out of the tent to message Ginny and Lavender and let them know about the programme. Ginny left for the Easter Hols a few days prior and she wasn't sure if the Weasleys knew their sons were alright. It would probably brighten up the family's time together if they knew their sons were alive and fighting.

"But did you hear what Fred said?" asked Harry, stopping her in her tracks. "He's abroad! He's still looking for the wand, I knew it!"

"Harry—" she started, hoping to reason with him. He needed to let this go. This wasn't some Muggle video game with a side-quest for him to play; this was life or death and he needed to focus.

"Come on, Hermione, why are you so determined not to admit it? Vol—"

Both she and Ron jumped to their feet, trying to stop him. "HARRY, NO!"

"—demort's after the Elder Wand?"

The loud sound of Apparition cracking came from outside the tent. All three of them stopped, looking at each other, their eyes wide.

"The Taboo," Ron whispered. He clicked the Deluminator in his hand, extinguishing all lights from their small space.

It took everything in Hermione not to grab her boys and Apparate, but she wasn't sure where to go or what they would do once they got there. So instead, she aimed her wand at Harry's face, casting a silent Stinging Jinx and hoping it would be enough to save them.

Years ago, before the world went to shit, Hermione had imagined what her first visit to Malfoy Manor would be like. It would just be her, Draco, and Narcissa, of course; Lucius would never have allowed her to step foot on his property so long as he had a say in the matter.

They would sit outside and have tea, looking over the rolling grounds that Draco had spoken so highly of, before venturing inside where their afternoon would be spent reading in the library. Draco would flirt with her shamelessly, sneaking kisses in when his mother wasn't looking. Their freed house-elves would serve them the most delectable meal and thank Hermione for all her hard work, ensuring they had rights.

Narcissa would tell her how happy she was that her son had found someone so well-suited to him. She would be welcomed into the family. Secret smiles would be exchanged between mother and son, hints thrown around about Hermione officially becoming part of the family one day.

But that wasn't what happened.

Hermione's first time seeing Malfoy Manor was from outside the iron gates, the large mansion looming in the distance. It didn't look like the white palace Draco had once described; instead, it was something dark and gloomy. She was certain if she pinched herself enough times, she would wake up from this nightmare.

Narcissa Malfoy met them in the foyer of her home. She looked nothing like what Hermione remembered from when she'd seen her at the Quidditch World Cup. She looked like a ghost of the woman; still appearing like ever the pureblood wife should, but there was emptiness in her eyes. Eyes that met Hermione's almost instantly.

There was a brief moment when hope bubbled up in her chest and she thought Narcissa would help them. That she would send the Snatchers on their way and release them all. That Narcissa was on their side as well.

"Follow me," she said. Her voice was clear and proper, not an ounce of emotion under its surface. "My son, Draco, is home—"

The rest of her sentence cut out. Draco. Draco was there, in the same building as her, and she would see him.

With her heart hammering in her chest, Hermione followed, moving through the halls and into a large drawing room. It was decorated in purples and dark woods with a glittering chandelier hanging from the ceiling, casting rainbows across all surfaces. The room looked like the kind of place a party might be held, one with formal dress robes and music filling every bit of space. She could picture herself dancing with Draco in the middle of it all…

And then he was there. Her Draco. Standing in front of them in his tailored black dress robes, his white-blond hair glowing, and it was like all the air had been sucked from the room. Hermione's chest ached. She wanted to fight the bindings that kept her in place, to run to him and hold him and tell him it was going to be alright.

But this wasn't her Draco. This was the boy who, not even a year ago, took part in the murder of their headmaster. He was cruel and uncaring, and in that moment he looked past her as if she didn't exist.

"I don't know," he kept saying whenever someone asked him if it was really Harry Potter.

Part of Hermione wondered if he was telling the truth, or if he was trying to protect them. Perhaps whatever spell he was under — and Hermione was trying so hard to believe he had been cursed — he was fighting it.

Bellatrix Lestrange entered the room, commanding all attention.

"Well, if it isn't the Mudblood girl. This is Granger?" Her voice sent chills down Hermione's spine as a long crooked wand was placed under her chin, forcing her to meet Bellatrix's eyes.

"It is! It is her," cried Lucius. He moved into Hermione's eyeline and she grimaced at the sight. His hair was lifeless and dull, hanging in a stringy mess from his head. There were deep scars on his face from where Draco had struck him with boils two years prior, marring his face permanently.

As Lucius and Bellatrix argued loudly over who should be the one to call the Dark Lord, Hermione's gaze wandered back to the lost boy on the edge of the fray. Draco's eyes were dull with dark shadows under them. Even when he looked straight at her, it was like there was no recognition there. She wasn't even certain that he would recognise his own mother with how glassy they were.

It was as if he wasn't controlling his own mind.

"Imperius," Hermione whispered, the pieces finally clicking into place.

An Unforgivable curse, of course, how could she have missed this? Draco, the Draco she fell in love with, would never have turned his back on her to follow in his father's footsteps. He hated Lucius with everything he had. The only thing that could possibly sway his opinions of her, of light and dark, was someone controlling them for him.

There was movement around her and it felt like the bindings that kept her attached to the others were loosening.

"All except… except for the Mudblood."

The blood drained from Hermione's face as she watched her friends dragged from the room, away from her. She was left alone with Bellatrix and the three Malfoys, the Snatchers having been sent away while she was focused on Draco. Bellatrix's mouth curled up into a sneer, hints of her rotting teeth visible between her parted lips.

"Crucio."

Every fibre and nerve in Hermione's body broke out into flames. She was burning. Burning from the inside out and she couldn't stop it. Her vision was gone, replaced with the flickering reds, oranges, and black. Time stopped and the whole world was made up of pain. Scorching heat flooded her veins, pulling her down further away from any hope she may have had before.

The fire extinguished and suddenly she was able to see again. Her throat was raw from screaming, her cheeks soaked with tears. Aftershocks rippled through her body as she tried to focus on the room around her. Bellatrix was crouched over her, taking up most of her view, but right behind her was a glimmer of hope.

Narcissa.

She looked at Hermione, their eyes locked tight. It was as if Narcissa was trying to communicate with her.

Be brave, little lion. My dragon is in there. I promise. I'm on your side.

The voice echoed in Hermione's mind and she nearly sobbed. It was calming, loving, protecting. She tried to respond to the woman but without knowing Legilimency, she had no way to do so. So instead, she held back her tears and tried to stay strong for the woman who had already been through so much.

Bellatrix was yelling in her face again, pulling her attention away from Narcissa and the safety net that was there. Between the stale breath fanning over her face, the Cruciatus Curse, and Narcissa's allegiance, Hermione's stomach was roiling.

"How did you get into my vault? Was it the little goblin?"

"We only met him tonight," she sobbed. "It's a copy!"

Bellatrix was off Hermione in a flash, yelling demands at someone else to bring the goblin. It gave her the chance to catch Narcissa's eye. The older woman's mouth was pressed into a thin line, but she nodded her head — a brief movement, but it was enough for Hermione to know who was on her side.

With Griphook distracting Bellatrix, Hermione tried to move, to crawl to Narcissa. To do something.

"Just where do you think you're going, Mudblood?" said Lucius, his foot coming down on her shoulder and holding her in place. "Bella!"

There was no time to react before she was hit with another Crucio, this one lasting longer than the last.

"Stupid bitch," spat Bellatrix when the flames subsided. "It seems you're tiring of our little game. Are you ready to end it? Shall I command Draco here to kill you? The last thing you'll ever see is your classmate as he slits—"

A loud banging from outside the drawing room cut her off. Ron and Harry burst into the room, shooting off spells in every direction. Lucius was hit in the chest, the stunner causing him to release the pressure he was still putting on Hermione's arm. He toppled to the ground and she rolled out of his way, trying to get to Narcissa.

She heard Harry shout out an 'Expelliarmus', though she wasn't sure whose wand he had won. A strong hand reached forward and tugged her to her feet as a cold blade pressed against her neck. Bellatrix was behind her, laughing erratically.

"Stop or she dies!" the crazed woman yelled. "Drop your wands or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"

Hermione shot them a terrified look and tried to nod her head slightly, moving only enough for them to notice but not have the blade cut her. They set their wands on the ground and stepped back.

"Draco," Bellatrix commanded, her voice sharp. "Get the wands."

He stepped forward and collected the wands before returning to his spot against the wall opposite his mother. He wasn't reacting to any of this. Completely numb to it all.

"Now, Cissy, what do you say we tie these little heroes up?"

A sharp grinding noise came from above, like metal scraping against metal. All heads in the room turned to face the noise just as the chandelier shook. Hermione had a second's notice to break free of Bellatrix's hold and run towards Ron and Harry. Pieces of glass and crystal came thundering to the ground and splitting into a million tiny pieces. She turned back to watch as the large decor crushed Bellatrix beneath its weight. The knife that had been held to Hermione's neck skittered across the floor, out of sight.

The room was silent for a moment as they stared in horror at the sight. A pool of blood spilled from Bellatrix' crumpled form, and small pieces of glass could be seen stuck in her at odd angles.

Narcissa whispered, "Is she really dead?"

No one dared to move. Hermione was frozen to the ground, terrified of getting too close and discovering it was a trap.

A scared and broken voice broke the silence, pulling Hermione's attention to the source.

"Mum? What happened?"

Draco blinked rapidly as the fog around him disappeared and all of his senses returned.

It was disorienting. He was unsure of how long it would last this time, but he'd never had this much control before. There was nothing there to cloud his judgement. He could see that he was in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, though it looked darker than before. There was the coppery tang of blood in the air, and a feeling of absolute stillness.

He saw his mother, standing across from him, her eyes focused on something to his right. She looked weak, exhausted, broken. But it was his mother, clear as day.

"Mum? What happened?" he choked out.

Her head snapped to look at him and smiled softly. "My Dragon," she whispered. "I've missed you."

Draco felt his knees grow weak at the sight of her. He wanted nothing more than to run into her arms, but a small whimper from further down the room pulled his attention away.

Hermione.

She was there with Harry and Ron — Draco paused momentarily to stare at the redhead who he had apparently killed before focusing back on the love of his life — clinging to them as if her life depended on it. Judging by her appearance, that might have been the case. Her eyes were rimmed red and there was a layer of dirt and blood on her face, her cheeks glistening with tears.

"Draco," she gasped, her voice quivering. Her bottom lip shook and he could tell it was taking everything in her not to give in to the emotions.

He wanted to go to her, to pull her into his arms and tell her he loved her, that he was sorry for everything he'd done — whatever that was — but there was a look in her eyes that kept him motionless. Distrust, uncertainty, fear.

Lifting his hand, he reached for her, giving her the option to approach him.

"How touching," drawled his father — or the man who looked like a ghost of him — pulling Draco's attention away from Hermione. He stood behind his mother, one arm holding her to his body with his wand aimed at her neck, while the other was clamped down over her mouth, silencing her. She was fighting against him, trying to wrestle herself free of his hold.

Where Hermione and his mother looked worse for wear but about the same ages they had when he last remembered seeing them, his father — no, Lucius — looked as though he had aged a few decades. His hair hung lifelessly around his face, and he hadn't shaved in days. Long gone was the proper pureblood Malfoy patriarch.

"Let her go," growled Draco, going to aim his wand at the older man and quickly realising that he didn't have one. "What has she ever done to you?" He stepped forward, edging closer in hopes of freeing her.

"Poor defenseless child," Lucius said wickedly, his arms tightening his hold on Draco's mother, attempting to stop her fighting. "It's not about her, boy. It's about you — my insolent, worthless, failure of an heir. You've disgraced the Malfoy name, sullied yourself with a dirty Mudblood, and even under the Imperius Curse, you still managed to fail at the one task you were given. You're useless."

Blood pounded in Draco's ears. He failed? Failed at what? He wanted to scream, wanted someone to tell him what had happened and how much time had passed. But his father persisted.

"Do you think I wanted to marry a whore? Twice they betrothed me to someone. The first woman, she was everything I could have wanted in a wife; obedient, pretty enough to have on my arm, weak. I didn't love her, but then, that's how arranged marriages work. Instead, the contract was broken and I was given this"—he tightened his grip on his wife, making her gasp—"as a consolation prize. That's how Malfoys show love, you know. They take away what you love most."

Lucius continued, his voice strained from trying to keep Narcissa in his hold. "And since everyone you love is in this room, I'll make you watch as the life drains from their eyes, knowing the entire time that it's your fault they're dead."

Draco's eyes locked on his mother's, grey eyes meeting their match, finding a determination in them like he had never seen before. She wasn't giving up without a fight, not this time. Silent tears streamed down her face, and her chest heaved with laboured breaths.

Lucius Malfoy was not going to get away with his crimes any longer.

Her body writhed against his, her elbows pushing back into his sides. Lucius' grip on her faltered momentarily, but he held her captive, his arm across her chest. One hand shot up to claw his arms while the other reached for his side. Lucius let out a strangled gasp, his eyes widening. His body bent forward, his head leaning over her shoulder.

With a loud grunt, Narcissa pulled her hand away from his side and slammed the palm of it against his nose, pushing back into his skull. Lucius' hold on her released and the weight of his body fell to her, causing her to stumble forward, falling to her knees. The momentum of the fall forced his body off hers and he rolled to the floor, landing face first on the ground.

Draco watched as his mother looked down at her hands, red with her husband's blood. She let out a blood-curdling scream and doubled over, her fingers scratching at the wood floor, her body shaking. He rushed to her side, pulling her head into his lap as she emptied her lungs into the room.

"Shh, Mum, it's alright. It's over, it's over. He can't hurt you anymore," Draco whispered, running his hands along her hair. She gripped the sides of his robes, holding him close. "It's over."

A gentle hand fell on his shoulder and he turned his head to find Hermione standing behind him, flanked by Harry and Ron. She gave him a soft smile and bowed her head. "I'm so sorry," she mouthed.

Leaning his head against her hand, he closed his eyes and let the events of the last ten minutes wash over him. Had it only been ten minutes since the fog had lifted and he had been freed of his isolation?

"What happened?" he asked quietly, looking back up at Hermione.

She shook her head, brushing her fingers through his fringe. "It doesn't matter right now. We can talk about that later."

His mother lifted her head and released her hold on his sides. She wiped her hands under her eyes, clearing away the tears. "I'm so sorry, Draco. For everything."

He wanted to look at where Lucius lay, but he wasn't sure if he would be able to stomach the sight. "How did you — what did you — are you alright?"

She nodded her head quickly, her eyes lifting to meet Hermione's. "The knife Bella used on you landed by my feet when the chandelier fell. I was able to grab it when no one was paying attention. It's currently… it's currently lodged in his ribs."

"I'm so sorry, Narcissa. About your sister and your husband," Hermione replied. "This isn't how I wanted us to meet."

The older witch stood and took the younger's hands in hers. "It isn't how I imagined it either. One day, when this is all over, you'll come for tea and I'll show you the library. We can get to know each other then."

Hermione nodded, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. She smiled sadly at his mother before releasing her hands and turning to Draco.

As if nothing had happened, her tone shifted to matter-of-fact. "We need to clean this up. You-Know-Who can't come back and find two of his followers dead, all the prisoners gone, and the remaining two Malfoys missing."

"Wait, two? What happened to the chandelier? And what do you mean 'the knife Bella used'?" Draco could feel his heartbeat quicken. Nothing was making sense and no one was explaining anything. Didn't they understand what he had gone through? "What year is it?"

Taking one hand in hers, his mother stroked his cheek gently. "It's 1998, my Dragon. You were put under an Imperius Curse by Bellatrix shortly after you finished your fifth year. She recast the spell on you anytime you came home from school to keep its strength. When the chandelier fell and killed her, it broke the spell."

"And the knife?" he asked, his voice shaky. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what his aunt had done, but he needed the answer all the same.

Hermione interjected, her voice soft. "She's dead, Draco. It doesn't matter now. What does matter is getting us all out. We're running out of time."

"Dobby is here to be helping the great Harry Potter and his friends."

Everyone turned their attention to where the little elf stood atop of the fallen chandelier. He held one of the screws in his small hand.

"Dobby, can you take us all to Shell Cottage?" Harry asked.

"Of course Dobby can."

"I can't go with you," Draco's mother said. "Take Draco, but I need to stay behind and cover for you all. The Dark Lord won't be happy."

Draco opened his mouth to protest but Hermione interrupted. "She's right. If we all leave, it'll ruin any chances we have of getting the last three Horcruxes. Mrs. Malfoy, are you aware of anything valuable in your sister's vault? Something of high value, perhaps was once owned by a Hogwarts founder?"

"I'm not sure. But I should be able to check once the mess here is sorted out. When I find what you're looking for, I'll have one of my elves bring it to you at, where did you say? Shell Cottage?" Hermione nodded her head. "I'll have it sent there."

"What about you?" Draco asked finally. "How are you going to explain all of this to You-Know-Who?"

"Don't worry about me, my love," she said calmly, her voice soothing away his worries. "My Occlumency and Legilimency skills are far stronger than his. I can convince him that Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley attacked and killed them before escaping with you and the other prisoners. With no one else in the room when it happened, I can also say that I was not around for it. It'll be safer this way."

Hermione slipped her hand into his, squeezing gently. "You mother is right, Draco. With the Imperius Curse broken, you'd be more likely to disobey his orders and he would kill you on the spot. We need you alive…" She swallowed and her eyes dropped to the floor. "I just got you back."

With the plans settled, Harry and Ron moved about the room, collecting wands and Gryffindor's sword and placing it all back in Hermione's bag. They allowed Dobby to take Harry and Ron to Shell Cottage first, giving them the chance to explain to Bill and Fleur what had happened while Draco said goodbye to his mother.

"I don't want to leave you here," he said. "I can't protect you if I'm gone."

"You did. When your father was alive, you protected me. It's my turn to protect you." She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close to her chest.

Burrowing his head in the crook of her neck, Draco memorised the feeling of being protected, of being loved unconditionally like this. So many opportunities with his mother had been stolen from them by a man with no heart.

When they broke apart, she moved to take Hermione into her arms, whispering something to her that Draco couldn't hear. The younger witch nodded, the corners of her lips turning up softly.

"I promise," she whispered. Her hand brushed against his again, their fingers twisting together.

With one final look at his mother, Draco allowed Dobby to transport them to Shell Cottage.

Their feet had only touched the beach a moment before Harry approached them, Draco's wand in his hand.

"You'll get this back when I know you don't have any leftover curse still lingering in there." He motioned towards Draco's head. "Plus Bill and Fleur said it was the only way they'd let you in the house."

"That… that makes sense," he agreed.

Hermione's hand slipped from his and she shuffled awkwardly next to him, creating distance. He looked between her and Harry, and back again, wondering if something had happened between them while he had been under the fog.

"I'll give you a moment," Harry said. "Come on, Dobby. Luna said she'd like some help in the garden."

"Oh, Dobby would be most happy to help Harry Potter's friend." The little elf walked next to Harry, looking up at him wide-eyed. "Dobby is happy to be with his friend Harry Potter."

Draco watched as the two left, leaving him and Hermione alone. He turned his focus back to her, taking in all the small changes he hadn't noticed before. She was much shorter than him now and her hair was longer. But she was still Hermione, still the same person he fell in love with.

"Come on," she said, walking over towards one of the bluffs and plopping down on the sand. "How are you?"

"Honestly?" he asked. "I'm confused. There were moments in the past two years when I remember things, or at least I think I do, but I don't know when they were. All of them took place at Hogwarts. You were there for a few of them. Did we — did we interact much over the last two years?"

Her fingers played at the frayed ends of her jumper and Draco noticed the poor shape it was in. It looked as if she'd Scourgified it multiple times, the magic slowly wearing down at the threads of Muggle clothing.

"You made it very clear that you didn't want me around any more. You spent a lot of time with Pansy, Theo, and Blaise. Crabbe and Goyle were there too, but more on the side. I approached you once in the spring, May I think, and you brushed me off completely."

"I remember that, I think. I could see you and that you were hurt, but I couldn't do anything to help you."

She looked off at the water lapping on the shores of the beach. The sky had darkened considerably and he was sure it was going to rain on them any minute. It would be fitting though, to have rain cleanse them of all that had just happened and all they were covered in.

After a few moments of silence, she spoke again, her voice quiet. "What else do you remember?"

Draco told her of the last memory he had, the one with Dumbledore and Snape, as well as the time before that when he fought Harry in the bathroom. She listened quietly, nodding when he asked her if events had truly happened, and correcting him when his memory had failed. Seeing that Ron was alive and learning that he hadn't killed Katie either had been a huge relief.

Finding out that he had been partially to blame for Dumbledore's death would take more time.

Inhaling the salty air, he tipped his head back as the first few drops of rain fell. "The first time I broke through the fog was… well I don't know when, but I saw you. You were in this red dress and it was like the entire world was focused on you."

"Slughorn's party," she said with a far off smile and a small laugh. "You were caught snooping outside and Filch dragged you in. I went with McLaggen; dreadful decision."

The thought had been nagging at him since they sat down. With so much time lossed, and with how cruel he had apparently been during that time, there had always been the chance that she had moved on and found someone else. He saw how protective Harry was of her; it would be logical for her to find comfort in the arms of her other best friend, and perhaps that comfort had led to more.

Admittedly, Draco was not a Gryffindor. He was not one to put himself in danger or to be the hero — he left that to Hermione, Harry, and Ron — but he remembered what his Patronus once was. Somewhere inside him was a lion, brave and waiting to be called upon.

"Was there anyone else you… went on dates with?"

"No. There was never anyone else. Though McLaggen did try to kiss me."

He let out a heavy sigh and felt a significant weight lift off his shoulders. Things were going to be different between them, and they may never be able to get back to what they once were, but there was a small glimmer of hope for them, and Draco wasn't going to let go.

His fingers stretched out in the sand, the tips brushing across her knuckles. Her face remained unchanged, but her palm flipped over and allowed him to clasp her hand in his. She gave him a light squeeze, her thumb moving to create small circles on the back on his hand.

"Hermione—" His voice cracked, emotion leaking out.

She turned to look at him, her cheeks shiny with fresh fallen tears. "I really missed you, Draco. Don't you ever leave me like that again."

Pulling her close, he crushed her body to his chest, his arms wrapping around her shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere."

With his nose buried in her hair, they stayed like that, quiet but together, even as the skies opened up.