I apologize for both the lateness of this week's chapter and that 40 isn't yet up despite the fact that this was supposed to be a double post - I've had an unexpectedly bad flare up with my bad hand and had to slow editing by a lot quite suddenly. I'm not happy with 40 as it is yet, but it'll be up as soon as possible and I anticipate being back on schedule next week.

As always, thank you to RESimon and shestoolazytologin for all that you do.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Hermione stepped out of the bathroom some hours later to find Draco standing silently across the room, his back to her.

"Draco," she said as her eyes found him. His back was to her as he looked out the far window. "I waited, but—"

"It's alright," he said, his back still to her. "The Weasleys told me that you left." He turned to her then, and she caught the way tension riddled his entire form.

Panic rippled through her. "What happened? They were— they were fine when I left—" They had been more than fine, really, for reasons she still didn't understand.

"They're fine," Draco answered, his voice tight. "Can you get dressed? I need to take you somewhere."

"Is it your mother?" Hermione pressed, her fingers working faster over her hair as she dried it. "Is she w—" Hermione swallowed the word well, almost cursing herself for the redundancy of it given their situation. "Does she need you?" she settled on instead, searching his eyes.

"No. She's fine, I promise." The tightness in his expression didn't waver despite his words. "Just get dressed."

Hermione nodded, dropping her robe and spelling open her trunk, eyes never leaving his face as she pulled on her clothes.

He caught her by the hand the moment she put on her cloak. "Come," he said, leading them out of the room. He pulled her behind him gently, leading her out of the house and into the yard, soon stepping into the trees. There was a small path nearly completely hidden by the trees, the thick canopy of foliage shrouding it in shadow.

"Draco," she called, breaking the stillness around them. "Talk to me. Where are we going?"

"Trust me," he said, leading her onto the path.

The silence stretched, punctuated only by the sounds of them moving through the underbrush. She was so preoccupied with her anticipation that she paused as she registered the abrupt end of the tree line and the wide clearing that appeared before them. In the middle of the clearing stood the tent they had camped in with Harry and Ron only days prior. She felt a soft tingle of magic as Draco waved his wand, letting the wards around the clearing admit them.

She turned to Draco, the question on her lips dying as she realized he was already looking at her. "Everyone is gone today. Potter and Weasley had some other business, too." he said, his words so low that the light breeze almost carried away his words. "But they'll be back tomorrow, and in the evening..." He trailed off as the reminder that they would be sneaking into Hogwarts the next day hung heavily over them once more, the weight of it immeasurable as they were reminded of their time together rapidly flowing to a suspected close. Her fingers tightened over his, the gesture as much for herself as it was for him.

Hermione swallowed, following him as he pulled her toward the tent. She stopped short as he pulled the flap aside and guided her in, wide eyes roving their surroundings. The light of dozens of floating candles cast the tent in a warm glow, floating gently past as she took a shaking step forward. Rose petals in vibrant hues of scarlet and to pure white littered the ground, the space nearly completely emptied of what it had been cluttered with. The only thing that remained was the plush bed made of a pile of blankets and furs that dwarfed the middle of the tent.

The silence stretched as she looked around the tent, her fingers clutching Draco's tightly.

"You're— romantic," she said, her voice breaking over the words in time with the way her chest tightened, "I didn't know."

He grabbed her hand before bringing her fingers to his lips, gently kissing each one. "I love you," he murmured, eyes never leaving hers.

She hadn't internalized it yet— the fact that he hadn't yet said it aloud until that moment. She hadn't needed him to say it before, not when his feelings bled through his every action. But now that the words were there, amplified in the air around them, her throat spasmed as she attempted to say anything back.

"I never thought I'd know what it was like again—" her throat constricted around the words once more— "to want to live this badly." Her every breath was a slow shudder, pain rippling through her form. "It hurts. It hurts so much—"

His lips found hers in the same instant, swallowing her last syllable. The moisture of tears smeared between their cheeks as their kisses grew hotter, more desperate with each second that passed. Perhaps she'd been wrong altogether on the notion of of her tears having dried out— or perhaps the tears were his, or both of theirs—

Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing but him and the heat of him crowding her as he pressed her closer to him.

"I love you," she whispered, "I love you— I love you—" she repeated, each word punctuated by moans as he kissed down her throat.

She ripped at his cloak and let it fall to the ground behind them before clawing at his jumper, their lips parting only for the time it took for him to pull it over his head and discard it. Her fingers were at his trousers in the next moment, freeing his length. It was flushed with heat and pulsing with need, heavy in her hands as she pumped him. She looked up at him through her lashes as she descended to her knees, tongue snaking out to touch the salty wetness weeping from his tip—

He dragged her back up in the same moment, his breath hot as he breathed later before capturing her lips once more, slowly backing them up until he pressed her back into the mound of soft blankets and furs. His lips drifted to her stomach as she lifted her shirt off, travelling lower as his hands worked down her trousers, taking her knickers with them. His eyes were dark as they travelled slowly over her body, drinking in every inch of her bared skin. She could feel his need flaring, colliding with her own in a storm of tension.

He kissed her hips, a small smile ghosting across his lips at the way she tensed and trembled.

He planted a final slow kiss to her mound, watching her through his eyelashes as she had him a minute prior. "Later," she breathed, dragging him up as she echoed his earlier word. There would be time— later—

The word lingered between them like an echo, caught in the thick tension in the air. She watched as Draco's expression shattered, raw emotion melting past his stoic exterior as he hovered inches from her lips, his glassy eyes searching hers.

For them, there was no later. They'd entered into their arrangement expecting it to end in death, neither realizing how painful their end would truly be. Hermione's chest shuddered as she sucked in a pained breath, only then realizing that she'd stopped breathing at all. The pain was stifling, the impossible weight of what lay ahead of them crushing her, consuming her—

Draco's lips found hers once more. The wetness of tears smeared between their cheeks once more, their kisses growing more desperate. "I love you," he whispered against her lips as he caught a breath. "I— love you—" The words were punctuated by his low moan as he eased his cock into her, rolling his hips against hers.

She gasped into the skin of his shoulder as he buried his face in her neck, fingers clawing at his hair. She felt ablaze, the heat of him against her consuming yet simultaneously the only way to truly quell the flames that burned her from within. She clung to him desperately, trembling as he ground himself against her, as his cock slid into her—

—he was everywhere, and he was everything— everything—-

Her moans grew incoherent as tension rose within her, her words stuttered as she cried out— "Draco— Dr— Draco—" They were a mass of slickened skin and warmth and love and devastation pouring over and colliding. Their emotions were indistinguishable as they erupted together, the fire within her burning brighter in the onslaught—

The tension that burned in her core pulled taut, tears stinging the corners of her eyes as she twitched and shuddered her release and forgot all but him for a precious suspended moment.

X

Draco's fingers traced delicate circles on her side, his eyes on hers. They were nestled among the blankets and furs, their coverings tangled at their waists as they watched each other. The low candlelight seemed to only enhance his beauty, and she lifted her own fingers to trace the sharp line of his jaw. She'd committed him to memory a thousand times over, yet desired nothing but to do it a thousand times more. He caught her hand as her thumb started to trace the softness of his lips, still swollen from her kisses.

"I would have liked to know what it would have been like," she whispered, her voice breaking, "to just be your wife."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, fingers dancing up her skin to cup her cheek, "for many things. You are—" His voice caught, brimming with more emotion than she'd ever heard from him. The air was thick with raw tension, their despair bare between them. "You're everything. I would have given you everything— if I could."

He kissed her the breath of a moment later. She relished in the press of his lips and then his cock as he pressed her onto her back and eased himself into her once more, mouth moving gently over hers as he whispered his affection against her lips. She clawed at his back, moaning desperately as his cock brushed her most sensitive parts. He knew every inch of her so completely that not a single stroke missed, each one only drawing out her pleasure further as he moved in her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, earning a satisfying hiss from him against her lips as she pulled him closer. It took only moments for them to shudder out a mutual release, filling the tent with gentle moans.

Later, it was her pushing him onto his back as she climbed astride him, grinding her hips down upon his as she chased her release. Later still, she watched him draw his lips over every inch of her frame until his lips closed over her cunt, drawing her to a swift completion. They slept for short intervals, finding themselves back in one another's arms the moment they awoke. She devoured him as he did her, desperation reminiscent of starvation as they drank up every moment they had. They slowed as the hours stretched, frenzied lovemaking turning slow and passionate as the day darkened to evening and then night before the sun rose once more.

It wasn't enough.

Every moment she spent drinking him in only made her yearn for a thousand more, the pain gripping her heart in a vice that blossomed further as the next day drew nearer. She felt his pain as acutely as she felt her own. Pain collided with pleasure and they consumed one another, and what little Occlumency they did to ebb the constant flow of it fell apart the moment they climaxed, drowning themselves in the tragedy of it all. She had once read that the tragedy of a bond like theirs was the mutual death, leaving behind the lives they had built in a moment's notice. For her, it was a relief. A relief knowing that the pain she felt now as she tried to conceptualize living without him would never come to fruition. A relief that brought pain that was just as acute, a constant reminder of how desperately she wanted a future for him, because it was only a fraction of what he deserved.

The final time they made love, their pain hung so thickly in the air around them that her every breath felt labored, her chest weighed down as her heart splintered into heavy fragments.

All too soon, evening fell once more.