AN: Chapter hits the feels as we start the serious relationship push. I would not recommend reading this chapter in public if you are a crier.

He woke an hour or so later. Hermione was gone, an odd realization that forced him to get up. He wandered into town stopping by the store and bakery to gather enough provisions for the first few days. He wasn't quite sure what she had planned to do if they had walked the wrong way on the path. She didn't unpack any food. He couldn't exactly see her capturing little bunnies and cooking them into stew. With promises of a delivery and a nice tip he decided he only had one place left to look and headed down the road they arrived from.

He found her sitting in the small chapel on the edge of the woods. It was barely the size of a cottage with a single dark shingled steeple and a rusted bell he was sure no longer rang. The thick oak and iron doors were heavy under his hand as he pushed them open silently. He saw her immediately, sitting at the far left of the first of eight rows. While the church was not well maintained it held its own sort of beauty. The ceiling was crumbling in a few places with thick claws of ivy reaching toward the openings. Even the hardwood pews were falling in on each other, the damage of time and weather. The town clearly didn't see much use for religion.

Sun shown through the remaining stained glass window in mosaic of shapes and colors. They shifted across her hair as the shutters drifted imperceivably in the strong breeze, a riot of pale colors. As they fell on her skin he marveled at the delicate cast to her features. Her hair overtook most of her face but when she wasn't waving it around dramatically, subtly carved cheekbones peaked out under huge almond shaped eyes. Currently they were closed, with dark lashes brushing lightly against her skin. Her lips were thin and most often red from her chewing on them when she focused but he knew they could burst widely into a smile at a moments notice. For a breath, he just stared, unsure of why she had sought out the church but admiring the view nonetheless. It almost felt out of a painting. Breaking the trance he pushed himself forward on soft feet, careful not to disturb the quiet balance. He slid in the pew next to her, staring up at a rather graphic statue of a nearly naked man on a cross.

Instead of focusing on that he regarded her silently. She leaned forward into the light, her scar-flecked hands folded serenely in front of her, pressed lightly against her lips. She spoke mutely into them, her face occasionally scrunching as she thought. When she opened her eyes there was a certain finality to it.

"I didn't know you were religious." Draco responded, making her jump. She recovered quickly exhaling deeply. A smattering of pale red floated across her face as the stained glass drifted.

"I'm not."

"Weren't you just praying?"

"I am surprised you know what that is." She answered with a low laugh. "Do you know where we are?"

"Of course I do. Malfoy manor has a chapel not that different from this one just off the gardens." He shrugged thinking of the small steepled building that was, at this point, probably in a similar state of disrepair as this one. "We would sometimes have lunch in it."

"You didn't strike me as the god fearing type."

"Well the Malfoys are an old line." He reasoned, glancing at the statue with a shiver. "When the muggles began burning witches and wizards it helped to look like a very respectable god-fearing family. Miracles also provide a decent cover for accidental magic that was too big to cover up."

"Any saints in your family?" Hermione chuckled meekly as the patch of red drifted to a soft blue. The church bell was trying to sound, marking the half hour, the empty clicking echoing in the room.

"Hermione… why are you sitting in a church, looking so quietly tragic?" he questioned with a level of delicacy that surprised himself. Hermione paused, her hand gripped themselves tightly in her lap. He waited, letting her thoughts gather.

"Churches are good places to think. make you introspective." Draco wasn't sure he could agree. He eyed the dying man above them, pushing away the similarities of a distinctly not peaceful part of his life.

"This one feels wholly ignored and forgotten." His gaze lowered to a dented, tipped over goblet near the base of a crumbling alter.

"Do you think they're at peace?" She questioned so quietly he almost missed it.

"Depends on who you mean."

"The ones we lost…" He cringed slightly, both at the vagueness and topic.

"I would think so. Death is fairly absolute. They are as much at peace as anything else that no longer exists." He winced as she glanced down at her hands, guilt stabbing at him for his carelessness. Draco knew he had never been particularly good with words, at least ones that weren't scathing or clever. He set his hand lightly on hers attempting to offer a subtle comfort. The action was halting and awkward, a far step from his usual trained grace. "You'll have to forgive me. They didn't exactly teach us tenderness in the common room."

"You are what you are." Hermione shrugged watching their hands. When Draco focused on them he found it somewhat jarring to see they didn't look all too different. Both of their nails had been chopped short, hers had the remnants of a chipped polish while his were still stained black around the edges from working with squid sacks. Her skin was tanner than his but the matching injuries of their profession flecked the surface like pale freckles. His family ring was polished to a platinum sheen and seemed to overtake both their hands in both its size and symbolism. Hermione's forearm was bathed in a sickly green light highlighting her scar while the smudge of his own basked in a yellow glow. It somehow seemed terribly unfair that hers would never fade and his already had. When she spoke again he jolted, but maintained his hold. "I wish I could do everything over again. I wish I had more to give them other than a silly statue and some broken memories. When I see a church I just try to apologize and say goodbye again. Just in case anyone is listening."

"And you say you hate self-pity... You did what you could. The best you can do is keep living, move forward since they can't." He repeated the words Thanaius had told him years earlier robotically. Even knowing they didn't work.

"The hero worship was sickening. Even a year later." Hermione whispered staring into the distance with a haunted look in her eyes. Her voice dripped in a cruel mocking tone. "The golden girl, the brightest witch of her age. HA! Bullshite. I was worthless. I couldn't even save children from dying at the hands of a dictator."

"Fucking Heros, you always seem to find a way to blame yourself. Why do you think that was your responsibility? You were one of those children." He sighed out. "You are only one witch. Hell you could barely keep yourself and your friends alive. And, somehow, that was enough to save the world. Stop moping about the ones who slipped through the cracks, it wasn't your job."

"I couldn't save them." She trembled lightly under his touch.

"You can't save everyone."

"We saved you." She whispered, sliding her hand into his. His pulse jumped, caught in the unexpected statement. He supposed they had, but they had really saved everyone. For the thousandth time he so desperately wondered what their life would have been without being born into a half-won war.

"I am still a lost cause." He scoffed after a moment, stuck somewhere between truth and levity.

"No," She corrected almost immediately. A hard edge laced in her voice, garnering no arguing. "You're a good person. You were worth it."

She didn't meet his eyes and he didn't pull away as much as he disagreed. She was always too much of a bleeding heart for her own good. The silence fell in thick comforting waves around them as he peeked at her face. Even after all these years she still found room in her heart for those he had chosen to forget. She was not crushed by the grief but instead bore it like an old friend to walk beside. Even the light tears in her eyes dried, as if they recognized their purpose was spent and they had the decency to disappear.

Just like her heart, she was silently beautiful. He supposed she always had been and he'd just never noticed. It wasn't obvious, not in the way that turned heads, but in the way that you noticed when she sat in the sun, or while eating breakfast on a Sunday, or while lying in bed the morning after wondering when you had lost your heart and wondering if she even knew she had it. They sat in the pew until Draco was certain he would never see colors or churches the same way again.

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"Up." Hermione's voice broke through the peaceful morning with all the delicacy of first time apparition. He cracked his eyes open to see a fully dressed witch glowering at him from her side of the cottage. He was still recovering from the previous night. The town had been pretty suspicious of them until Draco so generously brought the first round. After that, everyone had an old family story to tell and Hermione had recorded it all dutifully. A heavy meal of game-meat and homebrewed mead sat heavily in his stomach, a bit rustic but all together pleasant.

"It's a holiday Granger. Holiday means sleep." He rolled towards the wall, content to return back into a rather delectable dream he had been having. The cold shock of the air bit into his skin as the thick quilt was ripped away from his body.

"Christ Malfoy! Put some clothes on." Hermione growled stalking over to the small breakfast nook. He glanced down at his boxers, clearly covering everything important.

"Not something I usually hear women scream in the morning. In any event, I'm covered. For someone who has apparently warmed beds across the globe you sure are prudish." He huffed as he stood making a point to stretch slowly. When she turned to retort she squeeked and twisted astutely towards the wall with a blush.

"Just because I don't mind it from my partners doesn't mean I want to see it from you. Get dressed, I'll stand here until you are done." She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her hip, clearly intending to hold her promise.

"The whole time?" He questioned with a smile. "Promise not to slip a peek?"

"I don't need to slip anything." Hermione scoffed. "You'd prance around naked as a jay-bird squawking at the top of your lungs if I let you."

"Now you're making me out to be some kind of voyeur." He chuckled, charming a pair of thick slacks out of his trunk and sliding them on.

"You said it, not me." She huffed to the wall. She had clearly changed out of the black robes from yesterday and slipped into a fiery red cape with field trousers and a hunter green vest underneath. Deciding it would annoy her deeply, he also charmed out a green silk shirt and a black cloak that he changed to a rich burgundy so deep it was almost black.

"Alright. You can stop averting your sensitive eyes, princess. My glorious body is covered but please, do contain yourself anyway." He smirked as her eyes took in the matching outfit with a snarl. Apparently deciding it wasn't worth the effort she tossed a plastic covered food bar at him and stalked out the door. Their delivery hadn't come yesterday so they had to dip into their store.

"Well you're in a mood today." He stated, easily catching up to her stride. The bar was crunchy in his mouth and tasted very similar to dirt. The packaging did promise it was a complete meal though.

"There's a problem in the village."

"What sort of problem?" Draco questioned suspiciously as they passed onto the road.

"Not sure. I heard a lot of shouting earlier but had to wait for you to get presentable."

"You could have filled me in." He sighed taking larger bites. "I would have moved faster if I knew it was serious."

"Not sure it is." Hermione finished quietly as they approached the village. Draco eyed the free roaming goats that had been shuffled in towards the square as a large group of men and women crowded around the fountain talking over each other.

"I am telling you! I saw it with my own eyes!"

"Nearly drowned poor-!" Draco flinched at the buzzing sound as Hermione swatted around her head.

"Stop fooling around!"

"What's going on?" Hermione questioned, to an old crone rocking in a chair by the town shop.

"Something happened out by the river." The matron supplied slowly watching as a pair of men jostled against each other. The woman regarded Hermione carefully. "You must be new in town."

"We just arrived yesterday. What sort of something?" Hermione questioned a bit too loudly as a nearby group turned to her.

"Nothing you strangers have to worry about." The kind woman who had pointed them to the mill on arrival answered. She quickly turned back to the man at the center of the argument. "There are no spirits floating around here so stop your laze abouting and head back to work."

"I saw it!" The large red-head growled. He was coated in a light sheen of dirt and had the arms of a bear. "Straight out of the water. Clear as the day."

"What was it?" Hermione questioned even as Draco pinched her side, warning her to stay out of it.

"It was a Nixe!" He shouted wildly. "No less than 20 hands tall and the longest mane you have ever seen."

"Keep your bed time stories of haunted horses to yourself." Another man supplied from the crowd.

"Oh hush up." The old crone responded sharply, silencing the group. "Go back to work. All of you!"

There was a quiet murmuration as various footsteps wandered out of town. The old crone shuffled to her feet laying a comforting hand on the shaken man's back. "Let's get you some warm cider. I'll tell you a story."

Hermione rose her hand toward the duo. Before she could utter a word Draco pulled her back harshly. She turned on him prepared to shout when Draco quickly pulled her aside.

"What's your problem?" She hissed.

"You were about to throw yourself into a quest, Granger. I can see it sparking in your eyes."

"Aren't you curious?"

"Aren't you?" Draco growled back pulling her close to his face. Her eyes flickered with anger, their deep amber sheen reminding him of firewhiskey. "Think about it. You are the one most familiar with the muggle world."

"So?" She huffed looking very much annoyed. "I don't see the issue."

"Last I checked most muggles didn't labor in a field. Most muggles had automobiles and the portable telephones. Have you seen any around here?"

"Well…no. But we have really only been to the tavern so far." Hermione challenged chewing on her lip uncertainty.

"Which was lit by a fireplace and torches." He sighed letting his shoulders relax as he stared at her lips. " We didn't get our delivery and no one seems to recognize us from yesterday. There is something off about this town."

"Well… it is a bit odd." She conceded. "Have you heard-"

Just then the same woman who greeted them when they first walked into town bustled out of her house, the same child in toe. She spotted them before making her way over.

"Visitors! So sorry about that mess. What brings you to our little town?"

Draco recovered first launching into their cover about hunting folklore. The woman nodded along responding in the same general manner she had the day before.

"Oh the folks down at the tavern will talk your ear off about all of that." The woman smiled as the child grew restless. "Where are you staying? I can see if we have anyone to take you in but we will have to split you."

"We actually have a cart out by the church. Do you know any good spots to make camp?" Draco responded evenly.

The child wriggled it's way down again."Looks like I better go. Why don't you all set up on the East side of town that away? There's an old mill Down south by the river. It could use some cleaning up but I am sure you could stay there!"

She waved politely and headed off in the same direction she did last time. "Thank you for your assistance Ms…."

She opened her mouth with a smile, the violent buzzing blurring her words before she nodded. Draco watched her disappear around a bend.

"Told you." He commented as his eyes continued to stare after the woman. Hermione shook her head as if to jolt herself out of a dream, her ringlets bouncing lightly.

"That was… odd. Did she forget we were here?" Hermione questioned staring after the woman. "Twins maybe? Or a mental injury."

"Not sure. That wouldn't explain why we can't hear... names?" Draco mused, checking her for conformation. "Let's check out some of the area around town for now. Until the tavern opens back up I don't think we will be finding many people to talk to."

World Building with Om

Traditional Dress:

The festive regional dress from the black forest is very... Red Riding Hood-y. The women frequently wore the black dress with white puff sleeves as described earlier along with a hat that had either black or red puff balls on it depending on their marriage status. Hermione wouldn't fold to wearing a dress while treaking everywhere so I contest she would take a traditional ranger outfit, more like the men of the time were wearing, while still retaining some basic tenants of the culture.

Magical Religion:

Considering how old wizardry is it only makes sense that many witches and wizards were actively part of the church community. There are many points in history where they would have been ostracized for being the only people in town not to attend church. In addition, many miracles of the saints were preformed by children (sub 18) and would line up perfectly with accidental magic. The Malfoys being french, have an even longer history with it than most considering France was developed by the Holy Roman Empire before England was.