Hermione felt a scream bubble up in her throat just as they hit the surface. The impact ripped her away from familiar arms and sent her swirling into the thick crawling liquid. Hermione was prepared for a harsh shock of ice water but had braced herself unnecessarily. The water at the bottom of the well was certainly cool but nothing compared to what it should be in early spring. Hermione swung her arms around her hoping to find the fabric of his cloak or the silk of his hair but felt nothing but memories and magic.

She cracked her eyes open only for a blur of muted colors to dance across her vision turning her stomach. Memories spun thickly all clamoring to the forefront of her mind insistently. The harder she pushed them away, the more determined they became, pulling at her consciousness. Finally a single memory swept to the front, spinning her into an unfamiliar field under a gray sky.

It was of war, real war. Hermione had no doubt that the magical coupe they had fought against was violent and cruel but it was nothing compared to what was before her. An exceptionally large man dressed in furs swung a crude ax, crushing the skull of another man with a wet crunch. Behind him hundreds of other humans were either dead or dying, covered in blood as weapons fell upon bodies without prejudiced. Children, women, old, sick. No one was safe as their village burned. Hermione attempted to scramble away as gore rained down on her only for the memory to move forward without pause. The man towered over her, breathing in deep ragged breaths. The crazed look in his ice blue eyes was only exacerbated by the splatter of blood that was flicked onto his face. Before he could react a sword plunged forth from his chest nearly skewering Hermione in the process. Even as she saw life fade from the barbarian, her heart still wept at the loss of him. Muggles didn't have the unforgivables, or curses. Muggles fought and killed without the clean grace of magic... and it was brutal. The sword retreated as the barbarian fell, replaced by a man with fearful shaking eyes. He was so much smaller than the one he had just cut down, barely a scrap of a boy really, with awkward shaped limbs and still growing muscles. He dropped the sword with a wail, falling to his knees.

The memory swirled away and she found herself in a small room. The details were blurred from age but clearly in focus was a young child resting on a too large bed, a woman beside him weeping. A low fire cracked weakly in the light, a broken up chair stacked in the wood store. The boy was under a thread bare blanket and the straw bed stunk of moldy hay. Hermione could see the pock marks of plague and judging from his mother's tears it was not one that could be cured. His glassy stare emptied as his final breath left his body in a shaky death rattle. There was silence as his weak sticky coughs faded into he air. His mother's cries broke the moment in pure agony that made her stomach roll. When Hermione looked away she saw the rest of the household, piled against the wall having met a similar fate. Rats chewed openly on their flesh, pausing their movement for only a moment before descending towards the new addition before the water swirled away the colors.

Hermione could feel her lungs cry out for air. She dare not breathe or she may inhale the toxic water around her. Fighting down the panic she forced herself to keep as calm as possible, even if she was drawing out her own death. As she suffocated Hermione couldn't help but think of her own worst memory in painstaking clarity. The water attacking with a renewed sense of purpose.

She was standing on a sidewalk. Red and blue lights flashed dully, a bright siren sounded in the distance. Muggles muttered in the background speaking into their radios in muted tones. A suburban front garden came into being along with a completely nondescript middle class house. The door was broken inward, barely hanging off it's top hinge. Even in the early morning light a faint shimmer of darkness could be seen splattered against the window, tinted a deep burgundy. The memory pulled her forward in slow steps toward the door even as she fought against it. Reliving her own path in agonizing detail. She didn't even have the mercy of screaming. As she reached out towards the door she became vaguely aware of a warmth on her wrist. The familiar feel of Draco drifted around her body, enclosing it softly. She realized that they were probably going to drown together.

The memories swirled again and she sighed at the small mercy. The last thing she saw would still be horrid but at least it would not be her own. The images began to reform, an ostentatious dining room blurring into clarity. A woman's face and voice she vaguely recognized as Narcissa Malfoy. The worlds came out manic and garbled, her voice full of hatred. "I'll kill you! AVADA KADAVRA!"

Hermione flinched as the spark of green. Her lungs gave out finally forcing a last ditch effort for air, she felt the water rush into her with burning toxicity. It was fitting that in the end she would die on the floor of Malfoy manor anyway, even if she was surrounded by the heir to it. Before she could see the target, the memory abruptly cut off as she felt a rushing sensation pull at her stomach. She felt her chest compress forcing out the bile in her lungs as she ported away.

Hermione landed with a thick thud on grassy land, falling immediately to her hands and knees. Her chest gasped for air, intaking the oxygen greedily. She had only a moment's respite before her body remembered itself and she promptly vomited, hacking coughs interspersing themselves in between heaves. Thick watery tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. She became vaguely away from a comforting body still wrapped around hers, gentle murmurs whispered soothingly in her ears in between his own desperate pulls of breath.

She forced open her eyes, staring at the silvery liquid as the ground below her reabsorbed it. Within seconds there was no evidence left that anything had been there at all. Her lungs and throat seared with pain. A pale hand was braced against hers, shockingly white against the verdant green. His thick platinum ring still held tendrils of memories in the black coils of the snake. Another arm was wrapped around her chest holding her up even as her own arms shook and gave out. Ever so gently she came back to herself as he lowered her down.

"It's alright. They're just memories. They aren't here now. Breathe. Breathe. You are here, with me. We are out. We are safe. Just breathe." She closed her eyes and let the deep rumbling words wrap around her. She felt him settle on the grass next to her. Instinctively she curled around his arm not in the least bit ashamed of her neediness. She felt raw and spent as if she had spent the whole day screaming while running a mile.

"Shhh. In and out. Take deep breaths even if it hurts. Focus on the here and now. Feel the grass, the sun. Match my breathing." They laid there for what felt simultaneously like forever and no time at all. The bird song in the background felt almost traitorous given the circumstances. The warm sun on her skin felt like a lie. Even the comforting hand softly petting her waterlogged curls felt imagined and delicate. Like if she opened her eyes it would all disappear.

Finally she was able to force her inhales to match his, even as they desperately tried to spin violently out of control. She cracked open her eyes to find him staring into the sky. He looked paler than usual, his hair limp and damp. His deep gray eyes were muted and distracted even as he still muttered meaningless, comforting words. A large puffy cloud drifted by above them and Hermione finally felt her heart beat slow. If she allowed herself to imagine it he looked like they had just been swimming in a lake and were relaxing on the nearby grass. Just normal people out for a nice day. She sniffed in an attempt to staunch the weeping.

Simply for the comfort of habit she brushed the damp strands of hair onto his face. The corners of his mouth pricked up as he turned to face her, his eyes heavy with relief and the aftershocks of fear.

"That is the second time you have tried to drown on me in the past week, Granger." His voice was breathless and strained as he lifted his spare hand to push them back. Smudges of smoke and burns decorated the seared sleeve of his casting arm, demolished by the fiendfyre. Angry red splotches broke up the pale expanse of his skin, blanching even the orange of the bloodroot stains. Heavy blisters pocketed along the worst of the burns, making her wince in sympathy.

"That's the second time you've saved me." Hermione croaked out as his eyes shone with pride, a genuine smile gracing his face. The molten silver catching in her a wave of emotion until she was sure she would drown anyway. The realization fell on her like a spring rain, pieces over the past few months falling into place. How comfortable she had become with his presence. The loneliness when he was gone. His protectiveness, her patience, his jealousy, her recklessness. Little grains of rice piling up on the scale until it tipped the balance. She rested a gentle palm against his cheek, his face open and kind in spite of all the sharp edges as he leaned into the touch. "Oh."

"What's wrong?" He stiffened immediately, energy suddenly filling him as he scowled. He pushed away, tracing his hands all over her in a way that should have been clinical but felt temptingly dangerous. Her body warmed in response and she leaned into his touch. "You're flushed. Are you hurt?"

"Uh...no." She smiled softly trying to get a hold of herself. She blinked slowly, holding his gaze until the alarm in his eyes faded back to exhaustion. She would have to deal with all of this later, they simply did not have the energy for anymore surprises or realizations. Her after such a strong expulso curse and prolonged patronus. Him from… "I can't believe you held the fiendfyre for so long. I can't believe you'd ever use it after..."

"What other choice did I have?" He chuckled halfheartedly, staring at her with great care and concern. "It's difficult to control, just like it's real counterpart. But, after dealing with you for the past half a year, I have developed a kind but firm hand with endless patience."

"How dare you." She huffed dully, knowing he was right. Judging from the slight smile on his face she would guess he knew it too.

The moment was ruined by the cold reminder of April. She shivered violently as an icy breeze still holding on to the last visages of winter drifted over their wet skin. She felt him tense. A now familiar hawthorn wand waved over them flickered with a failed warming spell. He flicked his wand again resulting in an even smaller spark.

"Sorry." He muttered, trying to stumble upward. He looked just as spent as she felt but he still managed to ooze grace in the movement. Draco peeled off his cloak wrapping it around her, insulating her with what little warmth his body had created. Immediately guilt fell over her like a wave. Even when he was exhausted he still prioritized calming her with platitudes while she wept like a child.

"No, I'm sorry. You are half dead and still at least able to do something while I blubber like a fool." She brushed roughly at her face.

"Snakes don't cry Granger." He shrugged tiredly, grabbing her wrist. A thoughtful expression stared back at her as his thumb rubbed slow circles on her pulse point.

"And Iions do?" She questioned humorlessly without pulling away.

"I have been told they will around their friends, but that seems more your area." He smirked. They pulled each other up using the other's weight to an unstable but standing position. She was able to get her breathing under control but could do nothing about the light rivers of silent tears.

"Did you apparate us out?" He asked, sliding his wand into his pocket. They were soaked and Hermione doubted either of them would be able to perform a drying spell. "I felt the wards fall but couldn't calm down enough."

"No. I thought you did." She muttered shivering in the cold. He wrapped his arm around her pulling her to a tight but warm hug. She let her arm snake under the shirt plastered to his skin and rest on his lower back. Her fingers thrummed with the blood rushing just under the surface.

"I'm exhausted." He murmured lightly into her head. His breath was still warm, warm and very much alive. "You don't happen to have a map with our exact location by chance do you?"

Hermione dreaded pulling away. His body felt comforting and inviting, if not damp. It was so familiar that if she could get away with it she would just wrap herself around him and stay there until well past when they were dry. How long had she felt like this? Did it really take two near death experiences to notice? That was not a habit she wanted to encourage.

Unfortunately, while frostbite was off the table, she didn't love the idea of being stuck outside after dark. She untangled herself with a sigh immediately regretting the chill against her skin. She glanced around the field, a few discarded piles of rocks were scattered in the long grass in the divot between hills. The area looked as empty and wild as any of the multitude of fields they had seen so far. They could be anywhere.

"No." She wandered away on shaky legs. She ignored him when he reached out to catch her, pushing down the waves of indignation and warmth. She knew if she found herself wrapped in him she wouldn't come out again. She had to focus on getting them somewhere safe.

Hermione begrudgingly set off toward the top of the hill hoping for a vantage point. Even if they could apparate they had no idea where they were or how far they needed to travel. She mildly hoped they had the luck to appear nearby a shepherd's hut or an animal den. She would even take a well-sheltered bush at this point.

The soft crunching of grass indicated Draco was following her. His steps felt heavy with exhaustion. She had to find something for tonight. Digging in her bag she pulled out a draught of Pepper Up Potion, taking a swig. She offered the rest to him and he chugged it down gratefully. They were on a clock, they only had about an hour of energy before they crashed.

With renewed life she stomped up the hill sliding on the grass and her wet cloaks. Finally nearing the top she forced herself to think. They would get as much of a view as possible then find some place sheltered from the wind. It was nearing mid-afternoon so they could sneak in a short nap to recover their energy then try to find something by nightfall.

"Oh." Draco's voice pulled her focus. She turned around to find him gazing behind them. Following it she let out her own gasp. A familiar church stood in the distance, its crumbling facade a landmark against the dark looming blackness of the forest. She looked down at the rubble beneath them, making out the loose imprint of a circular fountain speckled with the dull patina of brass. The rest of the square had rotted away into nothing but anchor stones, leaving itself to be overtaken by the fields and grass.

"The town…" She breathed placing the buildings she had become familiar with in ghostly positions of where they should be. "It's gone."

Draco stared silently besides her. She laced her hand in his trying to ground herself. They hadn't spent much time in it true, but the people who lived there still felt like people. She still followed their stories and held conversations with them. She still pitied their inability to move forward. And now she would still mourned their loss. It would have to come later, with the potion wearing down there was no time for questions.

"Was any of that real?" He asked, his voice heavy with confusion and doubt. She pulled him toward the top of the hill, easily spotting the mill in the distance now that she knew their position. She set off down the incline not wanting to risk the splinch even on such a short jump.

"I don't know." She muttered with the single minded determination to get them home.

00000000000000000000000000000000

Draco shook off the hollow feeling on the walk down a previously hard packed road. The grass had overtaken the stone walls and spilled into the laneway. It was still blessedly flat as the previous accommodations came into sight.

Draco should have known that the mill went back up too easily. The magic was too abundant, too useful, and you never get something for nothing. Already the forest was claiming what they had borrowed, overtaking the space. The walls had transfigured back to thin planks and the water wheel had collapsed into tinder. Thick brambles covered the back of the structure growing forward even as they walked towards it.

"I don't think we can stay here tonight." Hermione mused as they pulled to a stop near the door. The thorn bushes were growing at an alarming rate, they would probably take over the door by nightfall. It was clear whatever use they had was served and the invitation to get out, obvious.

"Let's pack everything up." Draco was not looking forward to the idea. As they entered the house he was immediately offended by the smell. It was the wet and musty smell of decomposing natural things. It prevaded the room as the wood around them rotted. He glanced around sighing at what they would have to leave behind. The Pepper Up Potion had less than thirty minutes left on it and they had next to no magic left.

"We don't have much time. We need to pack any food and likely your books. Leave anything that's replaceable."He eyed his couch sitting by the crumbling remains of the hearth with sadness.

"Hm? Oh, no it's fine." Hermione stumbled toward the perfectly intact suitcase sitting on the table. He wondered if she knew she was limping. It took her three tries to manage the simple engorgio charm and the suitcase transformed into a large trunk.

Before he could start loading things in she pressed a small latch at the keyhole and Draco felt a wave of magic. The scent of cinnamon overwrote the natural mustiness for a moment before things started to move. As if following an unheard tune items shrunk themselves and lined up entering the trunk in a single file line. Fifteen minutes later the roof had caved in to the left of them and the last chair had entered her trunk. It shrunk back down to a briefcase and Hermione hauled it up with great effort dragging it out the door. As he followed he saw her pour a bright green potion over it.

"Featherweight potion." Hermione muttered in response to his raised eyebrow. "I don't like using it usually since it stains but I think this situation may be worth the cleaning bill."

Her joke was heartwarming even as the crash of wet wood behind them indicated the walls collapsing. "Send me the bill. As long as I get my couch back I will pay any price. Maybe I can get it reupholstered to something less hideous."

"Then it wouldn't be the same couch would it?" Hermione challenged picking up the case with considerably less effort but indeed with a now bright purple stain. She sighed gazing out into the fields of grass. "I think we'll have to walk a few miles, at least as far as we can until the potion gives out. I would love a sheltered place to set up camp but I don't think we will get that far. The only other option is the forest…"

She eyed the trees warily as small saplings began to spring up around them. Together they shuffled across the river pointedly ignoring the cracking groans of growth.

"We won't get far enough." Draco responded fiddling with the thick platinum band on his right hand. His fingers traced lightly over the snake.

"Probably not, but we don't have much of another option. We can't apparate even if we knew a point close enough." Already he could see her flagging, her shoulders hung limply and her face grimaced in pain.

"We could go home?" Draco ventured taking the case from her. It was comically light, or it would be if he hadn't seen how much she was struggling with it in spite of the minuscule weight.

"Aren't we supposed to be lying low?" She questioned without much fight. "Besides the portkey won't trigger for nearly another week."

"They would have already searched the manor." He commented holding up his hand. The fading sun glinted off the metal, catching her attention.

"I thought you said it could only take one." She questioned calmly, even though he saw the panic flash in her eyes. He was a bit wounded that she honestly thought he would leave her behind but pushed past it. Neither of them were thinking very well right now and she had years of emotional walls built up around him. It was only fair.

"Well…" he trailed off wondering if she was too tired to hit him. "Technically it can carry two."

"Okay..." She questioned clearly waiting for an explanation.

"But it has to be a witch and a wizard." He finished with a sigh. "It was made to transport the family. So it will take the master, lady and children."

"Your ring is conscious enough to be sexist?" Hermione questioned him in a way he would have taken for amused if she weren't so tired.

"It's old magic. Meant to protect the line. It doesn't matter how much I cared for Blaise, he couldn't pop out an heir so he didn't get to count." He huffed feeling the energy begin to wane rapidly. "I didn't make it Granger, so stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" She questioned, suddenly wavering on her feet.

"Like you are disappointed in me. Hold still." He muttered quietly as he caught her, barely holding them both up. He willed the ring awake with thoughts of home and the desire to return.

"I could never be disappointed in you Draco." Hermione whispered as the magic surrounded them quickly, robbing the forest to fuel it. Draco figured it was the least the damned trees could do. The ring pulled in its power from the area around them, warming the air in warning. "I am very grateful for you and your stupid haunted ring."

He chuckled as they sucked away painlessly, leaving no evidence they had ever existed in the first place.

World Building with Om:

A village trapped in time:

The forest is so old that it does have some sort of sentience. The village is gone. It had existed at one point, when the dementors first arrived a couple hundred years ago. What happened to it? Who knows. The projection of the village was only for the purpose for baiting Hermione and Draco into removing the dementors from the forest and now that that they have done that the forest doesn't want them around anymore. Nature does not care for the names and titles of human's trapped within. It can only mimic the human's behavior. As a general rule old, natural magic despises humans.

The Malfoy Family Ring:

The portkey attached to the Malfoy family ring is self supplying pulling magic from the environment around it to fuel itself. Because of this it just straight up robs the area of magic making it so that the area will forever be devoid of magic. Currently there is a perfect circle of flagstone at Hogwarts where nothing will grown and it feels icy to the touch.