**I don't own anything in the Harry Potter universe; if I did, things would have ended very differently and I wouldn't have a mountain of student loans.**
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Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.
- Emily Dickinson
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Hermione shut the bathroom door and leaned against the counter, her head swimming with an overwhelming mix of emotions and realisations from the last 30 minutes.
First and foremost, she was alive and no longer within the cell, something she hadn't thought possible a week ago.
Next, and rather infuriatingly, someone was running around in her body, campaigning for the Ministry's racist, discriminatory muggle-born registration act. When she got her hands on whoever was behind that scheme, she might disregard magic all together and strangle them to death.
Finally, her most recent discovery, was that Draco was still Draco. When she had woken up on the sofa downstairs and been informed of their liberation, she had been filled with foreboding that things would have somehow changed, that their relationship would transform outside the confines of that small room. But when she saw him, cleaned up and freshly shaven, dressed in new clothes, it was as if nothing had changed at all. He was still her Draco – strong, warm arms, with eyes like the sky before a storm.
She had known in that moment that, come what may, he wasn't something that she was willing to give up anymore. Whatever else this war took from her, whatever pain it caused, it would not take him. She simply wouldn't allow it.
She thought briefly of their rescue in and of itself – of all the ways she had imagined leaving that place, surrounded by a pack of Slytherins was not even remotely on the list. The dynamic with Blaise and Theo intrigued her. They were clearly self-preserving, that much was clear, but the very fact that they had left whatever safe haven they were in to enter a warzone for their friend led her to believe there was a lot more to them than their house affiliation suggested.
Hermione stepped toward the shower and stripped off her jumper and trousers, resisting the urge to incinerate them and just vanishing the stale, stiff garments instead. She realized she was without a bra and would have to transfigure something on the bed in the other room.
She turned on the hot water and stepped under it, audibly sighing with relief. It was as if she were washing away months on the run, living out of a tent, in addition to her time spent in the cell. She lathered and rinsed her hair twice with an expensive looking shampoo that had a French label and smelled of honeysuckle. She briefly wondered if she couldn't stay there indefinitely, hidden in the steam under a spray of magically replenishing hot water.
Finally, she sighed and turned it off, grabbing a gigantic, plush towel off a shelf on the wall and wrapping it around herself. Several strategically placed shaving and drying charms later, in addition to finally brushing her teeth, she stepped back into the bedroom and assessed the clothing on the bed.
She selected a plain pair of black trousers and a collared blue shirt that she transfigured into something akin to workout clothing with a tight, built-in shelf under her chest. She also transformed a pair of men's dress shoes into comfortable trainers and an extra sock into a hair elastic, plaiting her damp curls back, away from her face. Her magic was a bit rusty, but the spells would hold for a day or two.
She heard a knock at the door and, after she bid it open, Draco walked in, expression carefully schooled to one of indecipherable emotion – his 'mask,' as she referred to it in her head.
As she sat on the edge of the four-poster bed, the canopy draped in rich blue and green velvet, it occurred to her that here, outside the cell, things were no longer grey.
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When Draco entered the room, his heart ached to look at her. Now, showered and carefully composed, she was almost unrecognizable against the woman he had shared a cell with for 30 days. A small part of him wished he could remove those memories from her mind, erase the pain and the doubt she had suffered, but a larger, and admittedly much more selfish part of him, wouldn't even fathom giving up their time together. The time in which she had become Hermione to him. In which they had laughed and cried and found solace, however meagre, in one another's arms.
He had just spoken to Theo and Blaise and learned that they hadn't revealed to her why today, of all days, they had been set free. He wished he could lie to her, tell her it had simply been because his mother had known Bellatrix wasn't going to be at home, but if he did that, if he lied to her now, she wouldn't forgive him, and anything they had built, everything they had been through, would be negated.
His friends were ready to get out of Nott Manor, out of England all together, and he wanted nothing more than for her to come with them.
"I'm sorry," he blurted, to which her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "I'm sorry it got so bad, that you nearly…"
"That's not your fault Draco," she said, shaking her head. "You are the reason, the only reason, that I'm alive right now. Give yourself some credit."
She got up off the bed and crossed the room, taking his hand in hers. His eyes caught on the beginnings of a pale 'M' peeking out from beneath her sleeve and he reminded himself again that she was alive, that she was okay. Perhaps if he thought it enough, he would eventually believe it.
"Blaise said you had something to tell me," she said, staring up at him with trust written across her face.
"I do," he replied slowly, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to escape her gaze. "But I need you to promise me that you'll listen to everything I have to say, and that, when I'm done, you'll consider your options – all of your options, before you make any decisions."
"I promise," she said, beginning to pull away in uncertainty, "but you're freaking me out a little."
He sucked in a breath and jumped in with both feet.
"The Dark Lord is preparing to move on Hogwarts tonight," he said. "According to my mother, Potter is headed there to make some sort of stand."
Her eyes widened and he could tell she was breathing more quickly, but she kept her promise and he continued.
"His troops are assembling at the Manor now, my mother is with them but… she has her own motivations for being there, she has no intention of fighting. I'd assume the Order is gathering at the school as well."
"I don't understand what choice you were talking about me having," she said carefully, and he felt his chest tighten, seeing her already beginning to pull away.
"Blaise and Theo have been staying in Italy at one of Blaise's family estates. Right now, there is a portkey waiting for us in London to go back there. Hermione, I want you to come with us. Come with me. Please."
She stared at him in disbelief, as if he had lost his mind, and she tugged her hand firmly from his grip. "I don't know how you could… everyone I love, everyone I care about, is at that school right now."
"Everyone?" he challenged.
She looked away quickly and crossed the room, sucking in a ragged breath before letting it out.
"If Harry is going to Hogwarts that means he's destroyed the other horcrux. We knew there was probably one hidden there, it was always going to be the last one before Nagini and You-Know-Who himself. This could be it Draco, it could all end tonight."
"Then let it end, Hermione!" he shouted, finally losing the tenuous grip he had on his composure. "Potter thinks you're being held captive at the ministry, he doesn't expect you to be there. Come with us, wait for things to play out and then, when the smoke clears, come back and set things right. You've done enough, given enough, you don't need to be involved in this!"
"You know I can't do that," she said quietly, beginning to cry in earnest as she shook her head, "or you wouldn't have asked me to consider my options before you told me. There isn't any choice to make."
"Please," he broke down and pleaded, knowing it was for naught, "for once in your life, choose yourself, put your own wellbeing first."
"Even one extra wand being there can mean lives, Draco. I don't mean anything to you that the people there don't mean to their friends, their families. Everyone has something on the line – my being underground for the past month doesn't mean I can walk away from a fight I've been in the middle of since I was twelve."
He crossed the room and roughly grabbed her face as tears rolled down her cheeks.
"If not for yourself, do it for me. After everything we've… stay for me. I didn't save your bloody life just to watch you throw it away!"
Her eyelids dropped shut as tears fell and she gasped, her shoulders shaking.
She opened her mouth to speak again, but he seized the opportunity and kissed her. He poured into her everything he had, everything he was. All the pain, all the fear, all the regret. He kissed her like he was drowning and she was air. And she kissed him back, bringing her hand up and placing it under his jaw.
He dropped any pretense of control, losing himself in her and guiding her until the backs of her knees hit the bed, trying desperately to give her a reason to stay. She collapsed onto the mattress and he lowered his body onto hers, burying his face in her neck and dropping desperate kisses along her pulse point.
"You changed everything," he said quietly, his voice tight.
"You're a good man Draco," she replied softly, running her fingers tenderly through the hair at his temple. "There was nothing to change."
She pulled his mouth back up to hers and slid her tongue between his lips where it connected with his.
She tasted like Hermione.
But she also tasted like good-bye.
He broke away and rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily.
"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," she whispered against his lips.
He pulled back to look into her warm, chestnut eyes, tears clinging to her dark lashes. And he didn't see the wand being leveled at his chest.
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Hermione slowly made her way back down the stairs after regaining some modicum of her equanimity. When Draco had fallen against her, stunned, she had carefully rolled him onto the bed beside her before totally breaking down, sobbing into his unconscious chest.
She tried not to think about what it meant, that it hurt this much to walk away from him… she couldn't afford to enter into this battle with her heart and mind somewhere else. It was too risky. She used what diminutive occlumency skills she had to stuff him, and her feelings for him, carefully into a box in the back of her mind, to be revisited when the night was over. When she didn't die.
He hadn't actually expected her to go with him, it was clear from the moment he started talking, but she didn't know how desperate he might be in his attempts to stop her, and right now Harry needed her more than Draco did.
She had meant what she'd vowed to herself earlier. She wouldn't let this war take him from her – she just hoped her own betrayal didn't do it instead.
As she hit the base of the stairs, she placed her hand on the railing and pulled in a steadying breath before rounding the corner to find Theo and Blaise standing next to the fireplace, conversing in hushed tones.
They quieted when they caught sight of her, and she swallowed hard before speaking.
"Wait… wait until I'm gone to revive him," she said, voice hoarse. "And tell him I'm sorry."
They had radically different reactions. Blaise's eyes went wide in astonishment but quickly narrowed. He gave her a scathing look, huffing out a snort of disbelief, before wordlessly marching from the room and up the stairs.
Theo, on the other hand, didn't look surprised at all, but he too remained silent. She clutched her wand tighter and fought the urge to cry again, to follow Blaise up the stairs and fall into Draco's arms. If she did that, she knew she wouldn't leave.
"When you go out the front doors, head left," Theo said, making her blink in surprise. "Once you're past the big beech tree you'll be outside the wards and you can apparate. Best to stop halfway instead of going straight to Scotland in one go – I did it once and nearly passed out."
She nodded her thanks, throat too tight to speak. She turned to leave when he spoke again.
"And Granger? Try not to die, he'll be impossible to live with if you do."
She nodded again, a sad smile flashing quickly across her face at the unexpected kindness, before heading to the front door without looking back.
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A/N: ... Sorry.
Next chapter will be up on 11/13 and TanzaniteWrites is still an absolutely fabulous beta.
Unrelated: I know this has been an extremely harrowing week for a lot of people and I just want you all to know that you are valid, and you are loved.