"Amore et melle et felle es fecundissimus."
Love is rich, with both honey and venom.

Draco eyed the time as the sun set on 88 Grayshott Road. The silence cut him and he tensed, waiting for the loud 'crack' of apparition that could come at any moment.

He peered around the forgotten home full of antique furniture and forbidden moments for the last time. Her crimson nightdress hung casually beside their four poster.

They had created a life for themselves here. A seven year deception, safe and secure inside these walls. It was the only place where he had known love.

He brushed his fingers along the banister. Traced the ornate trim. Every minor detail committed to his memory.

He didn't notice when she apparated through the fidelius charm and into the living room. Hermione called out for him. Her voice floated down the hall.

"Draco…?" It stopped his heart; a knot tightened in his stomach.

She appeared at the bedroom door and met his gaze. Her amber eyes flickered. She knew something in him had changed.

"What's wrong?" Her tone casual yet cautious.

His reply was cold and clipped, "Astoria is pregnant."

Hermione's eyes left his. She shuffled in place and stared into the floorboards.

He wanted to catch her lips and crush her into the mattress. Bury himself inside of her. Disappear into each other as they did. But this would be the last time. Every breath counted.

He promised himself he would be a better father than Lucius had been.

The silence between them was bitter and black. It filled the space like smoke and ached inside their lungs until Hermione found the nerve to break it, "And that means…?"

"You know what that means!" Draco snapped, "You have known what that means for years!" He rubbed his forehead furiously as she stared hopelessly around their bedroom.

Draco rolled his eyes, sucked in a breath and sunk onto the edge of their bed. He shot her a soft and pained expression and wished she would come closer. And as if she could read his thoughts – after all this time, it often seemed she could – she stepped between his legs and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Hermione rested her head atop his and whispered, "I don't want this to end."

He dropped his forehead against her chest, "You've given me no choice," he breathed, placing a gentle kiss on her collarbone, and shifting her hips backwards so he could take her in completely. She was beautiful, even as tears formed at the corners of her eyes and threatened to spill over, "I never wanted this," he sighed in defeat.

"We couldn't have—" Hermione started to justify their secrecy. It was a well-rehearsed argument that had played out countless times. The words were timeworn and useless and he couldn't bear to hear them.

"We could have! Where was all your Gryffindor courage when I asked you to be with me?! Huh?! – And don't you dare tell me you're with me now – you're with the Weasel. You chose him when you made me your dirty little secret!" He paused to brush fallen platinum locks out of his eyes, "You knew this would happen. I married Astoria for you. To keep up appearances for you. So no one would look too closely while you hid me away like a fucking leper!" She shook and the tears pricking her eyes rolled silently down flushed cheeks, "It's been seven years, Hermione. You had seven years to change your mind."

Draco pushed her gently aside and stood to pace around the room. He rested against the wardrobe with his back to her, and waited for her to speak. He had promised himself it wouldn't be this way. He didn't want to be angry. He wanted love her the way he always loved her. And then he would let her go.

"I know… I'm sorry. I – I love you. You know I love you." She managed.

The words caressed him and coaxed a small sigh of relief from his lungs, but he couldn't help feeling gutted by her weak and late consolations.

She had taken his place on the bed, seated close to the edge, twisting her hands in her lap, and shaking.

Draco strode quickly towards her and cupped her face in his palm. His eyes met hers and he held her there, staring into her sadness and longing and want. He thought he could stay there forever, lost in her soothing gaze; rested against her so that her warmth seeped through his fingers and into his veins. He thought back to the first time they had held each other in this knowing way. She had made it clear then, the Golden Girl could never be with the Slytherin Prince. She was honey. He was venom.

Draco leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He meant it to be slow and penetrating but the intention was lost on the softness of her lips and the taste of her tongue. He deepened the kiss and tangled his long fingers in her wild curls. She met him with equal ferocity, and all but consumed him, sucking harshly on his bottom lip until she drew blood. Draco pulled back, thumbed the cut, and pushed her back into the mattress.

"Draco – fuck, please," She breathed, begging him to close the distance.

He obliged, slowly, taking in every inch of her porcelain skin. He ran his hands under her skirt, wrapped his hands around the backs of her thighs and tugged her towards him. She shuddered and fumbled with the buttons on her shirt. Draco grabbed her wrists and wandlessly bound her arms. He wanted to savor her, and he wouldn't have her rushing for release.

Hermione twisted underneath him. Her toes curled at his touch as she tried and failed to break herself free. Draco saw the need reflected in her eyes and licked his lips. He needed her just as much.

He climbed on top of her and placed his hands on her throat. He ghosted his fingers down her neck and shoulders and stopped abruptly at the top button of her blouse. He met her amber eyes; they begged him to touch her.

He loved the way she looked at him, like he was the only one who mattered. The only one who could fill her heart — or shatter it. He had never seen her look at anyone the same way and hoped he never would.

Draco undid the top button and sucked at the spot above her breasts. He felt his length growing harder and struggled not to abandon his promise of taking her slowly; tasting her, relishing her and loving her. She writhed underneath him, "Please, Draco – just kiss me."

He raised a brow at her and crushed his mouth into hers. She parted her lips instantly and arched up into him. She squirmed and searched, aching to press against him. His cock twitched at the feeling and he slipped his tongue behind her teeth.

Draco pulled at his tie and slipped it off. He unfastened his shirt and shrugged it sharply off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor behind him. Hermione's skirt was bunched up around her waist. Draco snaked his thumbs under the waistband and tore it from her body, discarding it. Her shirt was thrown open, revealing a deep green bralette. He was uncomfortably hard as she struggled beneath him.

He unbound her arms, and she threw herself at him. Hermione ran her fingers through his platinum hair and clawed at his back. She was consuming him. She was tasting every inch. His citrus and cedarwood mixing with her rose and vanilla scent.

She moved down his bare chest and placed her fingers on his belt buckle. She grinned up at him, not quite asking for permission, but rather an invitation. He sucked in a deep breath and nodded. The sound of leather whipping from his beltloops and the clang of metal hitting the floor filled the room. She pulled his trousers off and proceeded towards his hard length. She ran her tongue from the base of his cock to the tip, licking a fleck of moisture from the head before taking him inside her mouth. He shivered at the feeling and steeled himself. This time had to be perfect, and he wouldn't revel in his own self-pleasure.

Draco threw Hermione backwards and shifted her towards the headboard. He placed his hand gently at her entrance to feel if she was ready for him. He glided a finger inside of her as her hips canted against his hand. He retracted his finger and replaced it with two, dipping to suck on her clit and trace her lips with his tongue. She tasted like nectar and utter bliss. "Fuck Draco!" she screamed. Her whimpering sounds drove him. She was about to come undone. After all this time, he knew her body better than anyone, he was sure of it. He picked up the pace of his fingers and curled up inside of her, flicking his tongue across her sensitive entrance as she came around his hand.

Draco pulled back and sucked her moisture from his fingers as she resolved. His eyes traversed her, laying bare before him, panting; her legs trembled with residual orgasm. He kissed the spot below her navel and made his way slowly up to her breasts, biting softly at her collarbone and then her jaw. He landed on the corner of her mouth and pressed his lips to hers for a kiss that ached like blood behind a bruise.

Hermione fluttered her eyes towards the bulge in his boxers and reached for his length. He was incredibly hard. Draco lifted to look at her and she grinned. He removed his boxers and tossed them off the bed as she wrapped her fingers around his cock. Her eyes spoke of an insatiable hunger as he lined himself up at her entrance and plunged into her to the hilt. He bucked into her quickly, punctuating each thrust, giving more and more of himself each time until she was chasing her climax again. Draco wrapped his arms around her thighs and lifted her legs over her shoulders. He eased up, pulling in and out of her at an agonizing pace. She was warm and wet and perfect.

Her eyes pleaded with him to go faster, but he wanted this moment. He wanted to memorize the feeling of him inside of her and the flicker of her honey brown eyes as they widened with each pulse. He wanted to breathe her rosy scent, to remember it just so when he walked through the gardens at the Manor. And he wanted to remember her like this.

He loved her loving him. It filled him with bliss and pride and emotions he had never learned to name. They were slick with sweat and her curls were sticking to the sheets as Draco picked up the pace, fucking up into her until he felt her tightening around him. The feeling of her cunt squeezing him, and the sweet sounds of her release had him chasing his own orgasm. He pumped into her three more times and burst deep inside her.

Draco let her legs relax on either side of him and held himself over her, braced on his forearms. They locked eyes, panting with a silent desperation, struggling to catch their breath before reality could dawn on them.

Draco shut his eyes as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. He shook his head, "I fucking love you, Granger."

Hermione pressed her lips together and smiled. Draco slid out of her and buried his face in her wild curls, splayed across the pillows. She nestled into his chest and traced his bicep. They laid there for some time, soaking in the other's very presence until the sounds of Grayshott Road faded and they knew night had truly fallen around them.

On any other night, Hermione would worry that Ron would notice her absence. She started to fidget at the thought and Draco would help her be on her way. But tonight... tonight was different; she seemed committed to laying perfectly still in his arms, content and cared for as he slid his hand silently through her hair. There was no desire to leave their hidden world; nothing worthwhile waited beyond their walls. This had been their sanctuary. A haven from the horrors of war, before new horrors arose out of reality. The thought of leaving her tortured and taunted him, and Draco realized that for the first time in all their years, he would be the one to break their embrace.

He pulled himself away and started to dress. Hermione watched him, wide-eyed as if she were only now realizing this would be their last solitary moment. A Malfoy heir was on its way.

Hermione started in without thinking, "I'll leave him. I'll leave Ron. I know… I know I've said it before, but I mean it. I want you… I love you."

Draco couldn't stomach the pleas. It was too late. "Don't do this. Please don't fucking do this," Draco replied in his own, pleading whisper, "I want to remember you like this – warm and relieved and… happy." He finished buttoning his shirt and smoothed his hair down.

Hermione stood from bed and stepped into him. She pressed her naked body against him and cried into his chest, "Please… please don't. I promise, I'll leave him. I never loved him. It's always been you."

Draco ground his teeth together and coolly replied, "I'll tell Theo we don't need a secret keeper anymore." His tone was as level and lifeless as he could manage as he twisted a bronze curl around his finger, "It's going to be better this way—"

"FOR WHO?!" Hermione snapped, shoving him backwards.

"For both of us!" He shouted incredulously, "maybe… maybe you could have loved him. I think I could love her," he lied.

"BUT YOU DON'T!"

"THEN I WILL LEARN TO!"

There it was again. The dark, penetrating silence that poured into the room like noxious fumes and poisoned them. Hermione broke into deeper sobs and choked on her grief.

Draco swallowed hard and conjured her nightdress. He draped it over her shoulders and pulled her close as she sobbed. He tipped her chin up towards him and kissed her softly, breathing into her as he struggled for air through the knife in his chest. He tasted saline on her lips and hated that this would be the way he remembered her. Her eyes red and swollen. Her cheeks wet with tears. Her words full of a promise too late.

"I love you." Draco sighed into her mouth, "I love you. I love you." He punctuated each admission with a deep, painful kiss, until neither had more to give. Hermione dropped her head into his chest and resumed her pleas.

"Please, don't go…"

Draco shook his head and locked his silver eyes on her. He spoke softly, "Seven years ago, someone told me I could be a better man. That I was more than what my father had made me. She accepted me as I was, and more than that… she loved me for it," He shook his head and continued, "I couldn't believe it. And I knew then that I would love her."

She smiled and laughed weakly.

He curled his lips into a reticent smile, "There's my Golden Girl."

They shared a look of pain and longing and forgiveness as Draco stepped backwards. And in a 'crack' of apparition, Draco was gone from the home they made. The sound pierced the air like a single gunshot that wounded them in a way that wouldn't heal.