Song Suggestion: XYLØ- "America"

A/N: Only four chapters left until Part 2 is done. By that point, a lot of questions will be answered.

Secret Keeper

Draco

"Come on," Draco urged. "Drink another."

He handed Theo another glass of firewhisky. Theo eyed it warily, already drunk, but he'd had always been susceptible to peer pressure when it came to alcohol, and he was too far gone to deny it.

Pansy and Daphne, along with most of the others, already went home, leaving just Goyle and Blaise.

Greg looked at the glass with worry.

"Maybe he shouldn't. He's already sloshed enough."

"No." Draco attempted to hide the hard note to his voice but failed. He cleared his throat. "He needs to loosen up. He's been uptight the whole night."

After discovering the cellphone, Draco spent the rest of the night studying Theo. His old friend never met his eyes for long, glancing away. The longer Draco looked the more he noticed his signs of guilt. Subtle, like a Slytherin, but there.

Draco rested on a bed of knives. His insides howled, but on the outside, he adhered to the manners of the evening. He didn't wish for Theo to catch on he suspected him, not until he had solid proof. Not until he had Granger, in all her glory, before him.

Drink after drink he pushed onto Theo, until his friend's eyes turned red behind glasses, until his speech slurred.

Greg left thirty minutes later, and then Blaise stood up, the last to leave.

"He'll regret that in the morning." He nodded to Theo who dozed in a chair near the fire.

"He always was a sloppy drunk." Draco gripped the edges of the chair until his hands hurt.

Blaise eyed him. Out of everyone, he had noticed something off.

"Old or new," he asked.

"What?" Draco managed to say. The longer the night went on, the harder it was to control his emotions.

"Old problems or new? What's bothering you?"

Draco wondered if he should tell Blaise, but Draco didn't trust himself. If he voiced it aloud, he might curse Theo.

"An old problem," Draco said. "But I think I discovered the solution."

Blaise scrunched his eyebrows.

"Should I stay and help Theo?" he asked. "You don't look… well."

"No," Draco said. "I'll take care of Theo."

Blaise sighed and nodded.

"If you insist."

When Zabini left through the floo, Draco stared at Theo.

"Why did you do it?" He asked.

Theo answered with a snore.

Draco

Much later, Draco levitated Theo to bed. The man didn't even notice as he was deposited under the blankets. Instead of leaving like usual, Draco went down the hallway and entered another room. This one wasn't as decorated as the others, more abandoned, but that suited Draco just fine.

Several minutes after lying down, an elf popped up in a glittery blue dress and what he thought might look like heels. Draco shook his head at the sight, reminding him of Mipsy.

It had Hermione's handiwork all over it.

"What can Bitty get for master's friend?"

"A cup of hot cocoa would be nice." The elf made to leave but Draco stopped her. "Theo invited me to the luncheon tomorrow, but I drank quite a bit and plan to stay in the room until then. Don't bother Theo with my whereabouts. He won't be feeling very well tomorrow either and already knows I'm staying for the night. It would be troublesome to burden him with conversation until he's recovered."

The elf beamed. It was easy to manipulate the little things if a person knew how. All it took was mention of the master's wellbeing, and the elves did as he wished.

Contrary to what he told the elf, Draco didn't sleep. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering what he'd say to Hermione. Of course, he'd imagined scenarios before, but it had always been a dream. The reality of having her in the same room made his mind go blank.

He would see her tomorrow. He'd meet his son. His whole body ached with the thought.

All he knew was that he needed to go about it perfectly.

Draco

Draco stayed in his room, listening at the door. He'd paced the floor for a solid hour. Time slipped together and tore apart into nothing. He'd rather face his Aunt Bella's wand than spend one more second in the room.

So far, his ploy worked. The elf didn't bother him, and neither did she tell Theo he stayed over. Like he planned, Theo had a nasty hangover. Magic could only do so much.

By the time the new voice echoed upstairs, he'd already nearly worn holes into the flooring with his anxious wandering. A strangled noise exited his throat, and he placed his fist in his mouth and bit down to keep quiet.

Draco forced himself to wait even though every instinct told him to walk down the stairs, demanding his son, demanding Granger.

But he ignored instinct—the primitive urge that instructed to take what he wanted and keep it to himself. It would only spook Hermione, make her bolt before they could talk. Anger wouldn't serve his end goals, even though the pain had long ago turned into a boiling rage.

How dare you keep me from my son! He wished to grab her and shout. He missed five years of his life. Time he'd never get back. His fist steps, his first tooth, his first word. They slipped through his fingers like sand.

Above all, he wanted her to want to come home. If she saw him, would she take a step back in fear? He wasn't sure what he would do if she did. He wondered, and not for the first time, if she left because she hated him. Did he just imagine her affection? Did he want it so bad he projected his feelings? The thought left a sick feeling in his chest.

Draco waited until more voices joined. He tried to pick them out, knowing it would most likely be Granger's old crew. Dumbledore's Army.

Draco couldn't wait anymore. As silent as possible, he pushed the door open. The entry to the manor opened to a grand staircase. On one end was the main living room with a roaring fireplace. On the other was the main dining room. Nott Manor was more of an open concept than Malfoy manor. The stairs branched to the East wing and the West Wing, and in the center was a good spot to see down. Unfortunately, it also meant the dinner guests could see up.

Draco crawled on his hands and knees as low as possible, attempting to prevent creaks and groans of the old wood, hoping no one needed to go to the loo.

The voices grew louder as he neared. The loudest belonged to Ginny Weasley, telling some long joke involving her brothers and gnomes. Draco couldn't pick up much, but the group roared with laughter.

Talking continued, and Draco dared to peek down into the dining room. The first face he saw belonged to a familiar Irish man, Seamus Finnegan. The second to Dean Thomas. He never liked or disliked the pair, finding them more tolerable than Potter and Weasley. Luna sat next to Dean with her familiar absent stare.

George and Ron arrived next, followed shortly by the Dragon Tamer. Draco hesitated, knowing if push came to shove, he'd lose a fight with Charlie Weasley. The red-haired giant had a soft spot for Granger and would cast curses first, ask questions later, and then feed him to his dragons to get rid of the evidence.

A commotion happened. A gentle pop sounded from the opposite room— the pop of a portkey. Ginny jumped from her seat in excitement, and Draco flattened himself further. Theo stood as well, setting his napkin on the table and followed the redhead.

Draco's whole body hurt as he waited. And then he heard it—her voice. It echoed around him, setting every particle of his body on fire. He shook, fingers attempting to dig into the old runner below him. He rested his forehead against the floor, steeled himself, raised his head and watched as Hermione Granger walked into the room.

The sight took his breath away. He willed his heart to continue. She looked healthy, cheeks pink, a giant smile on her face. She wore a muggle dress and towering shoes that tapered into delicate points. Her wild hair looked the same, but her curves were more rounded than before, hips flaring in a lovely shape that made everything tighten and ache inside him.

Fuck.

The longing hit him like a bludger.

It took everything inside Draco to get up and move, giving one last look to Granger's curls as she laughed and talked to her friends. He crawled down the hallway until it hid him from view. Then he stood and disappeared behind a curtain that hid a little alcove. Behind it was a delicate vase on a pedestal. Draco was no fool to touch it. Instead, he waited beside it. All he needed was proof Theo was involved in Granger's disappearance. And now that he knew, he waited.

Draco

It took several hours before the dinner party died down and for people to begin to leave, including the Weasley brothers, Finnegan, and Thomas.

Hermione stayed behind, talking with Luna. He heard the latter's ethereal voice floating up, and Hermione's deeper one answering.

"Bitty," he whispered. The little elf popped into view, looking at him with large green eyes and floppier ears than normal. "Tell your master, discreetly, Draco Malfoy wishes to speak to him. He can find me on the second floor near the East wing. Oh, and warn him that if he alerts anyone else to my presence, I'll make sure to involve the authorities."

The elf looked stricken, but it couldn't be helped.

Five minutes later, steady footsteps scaled the staircase. He peeked his head out behind the curtain to view him better, sizing Theo up, wondering how he'd handle getting caught.

Theo hid his surprise behind a hard mask, the only tell the clench of his right hand and the grim set of his mouth. His eyes flicked down the hallway, just missing him.

Theo made his way down the darkened hallway, eyes passing over the alcove. His old classmate had little time to investigate, because someone followed him up the staircase.

Draco peeked out to see Ginny walking toward Theo with a purpose.

"Ginny," Theo warned. "Now's not the—"

The redhead threw herself on him, and Theo caught her in a surprised hold, just as Ginny pressed her lips to his, tangling her fingers in his hair, and wrapping her legs around his waist. The edge of her own scandalous muggle dress rode up, showing bare thigh. Theo made a funny noise, hands tightening along the pale skin of her leg. The weight of her caused him to take a few steps back, colliding with the wall.

Ginny released his lips and leaned down and kissed his neck. The groan this time was much louder.

"Fuck, Gin."

"Gladly," she said. "Just drag me into the nearest room, and you can play out any fantasy you want."

Theo looked tortured, and Draco let out a little noise of mirth. Theo's eyes snapped up at the sound, catching Draco peeking out from behind the curtain. In response, Draco wiggled an eyebrow in a suggestive way.

Theo's expression darkened, showing even behind the glasses and helpful exterior, he was raised exclusively by a violent, cruel Death Eater, and he could become the character when he wished.

Theo's hands tightened around Ginny's waist, gently detangling her from him. Ginny gave a noise of protest.

"Why do you keep rejecting me?" Ginny asked when her feet hit the ground, crossing her arms. "I'm starting to take it personal."

"I'm not rejecting you." He ran a hand through his hair and fixed his crooked glasses. "I've already stated—"

"You just don't want—"

"I'm not going to be some toy you use and discard. If you want someone like that, go for Finnegan. He stared at you the whole lunch. I'm sure he's up for a one-night stand, but I'm not one of your conquests you plan to shag until you're bored."

"Ugh," Ginny said. "Not everything has to be so serious. Sometimes things can just be fun."

"Maybe for you." Theo grabbed Ginny by the shoulders and turned her. She gave a little noise of surprise as her back hit the wall, and his old Slytherin roommate towered over her. "But when I throw you in my bed, I want it to be where you stay. And until you want that as well, this will never happen. I plan to be your final conquest, not your distraction."

Ginny froze, eyes going big.

"I… I'm not ready."

The hard lines of Theo's shoulders softened.

"I know." He put one hand on the edge of her jaw, sliding his fingers in her hair. "It's okay. Go down and see Hermione while you can. She'll only be here for a little bit."

His words came out tight, a warning for Draco.

Ginny looked conflicted, but she finally pushed on Theo's chest, and he backed up with a sigh, as if he hated the standards he set.

She stared at him for a moment, looking a little hurt, and then walked down the stairs. Theo kept one hand clenched into a fist, pressed to the wall.

When she exited out of earshot, Draco pushed open the curtain.

"Professional, huh?"

Theo twisted and stared at Draco, not responding to his comment. Instead, he glanced him up and down, as if trying to figure out a way to slice him down.

"How long have you known about Hermione?"

Draco couldn't control the way his lips curled into a snarl.

"Last night," he said. "You should have been more careful with your communication devices. The real question is how long you've been a fucking traitor."

"Traitor?" Theo seethed in a whisper. "I never pledged any loyalty to you, especially when Granger showed up in pain, desperate, and bleeding, with a newborn in her arms."

Draco closed his eyes and took several breaths to calm down. He felt more unhinged than normal, unable to suppress his emotions like he should.

"Does she even know I didn't marry Astoria? Or did you continue with the lie my father told her?" Draco asked the question on instinct, still unable to understand why she stayed gone when that morning she wanted them to fight the marriage contract together.

"Of course, I told her." The words stuck Draco like a Tsunami, drowning him. She knew, and she still stayed hidden. "Hermione wanted to return, but I talked sense into her. Tell me, Draco… how long would it have taken before your father retaliated? You think he'd have let you ride off into the sunset together? No, he would have taken her son and fucked both of you over. Getting her away while I could was the best outcome."

Draco ripped the curtain away, so they faced each other fully. Theo was right. He'd been delusional at the time, because his father would have taken his son before he could have made it to America. Still…

He took a step toward Theo, and his friend took one backward.

"She took my son," he raged. "And you helped her."

The words struck as intended. Theo's face paled. He understood the consequences, understood what Draco could do to him. The crime of stealing an heir was severe. He'd go to Azkaban for years.

"You should blame your father not me. Is this how you plan on getting Hermione back into your arms? By threatening one of the only people who helped her?"

Draco looked to the side and clenched his jaw.

No, he didn't think this was the way to get her back. His anger towards Theo fizzled throughout the day, until now it twisted into shame, knowing his old friend only did what his witch asked of him. Draco pressed the heel of his palm into his eye, pushing until the pressure in his head vanished.

"What am I supposed to do?" Draco voice cracked a little on the last word, but his chest hurt too much to be ashamed.

Theo seemed to soften at that.

"Nothing, Draco, let her go."

"Like fuck," Draco answered. He'd do many things, but he wouldn't give up. Not yet. He straightened, eyeing Theo, realizing something. "You must be keeping news from her. The Muggleborn Surveillance Act, for one. Or else she'd be marching into the ministry right now."

"Lucius is your father. What have you done to stop him?"

"A great many things. More than you know. I'm just more subtle with my actions."

Theo looked ashamed. Hermione would be angry Theo kept things from her. They both knew it.

"We hate lying to her, but we all agreed it was best if she didn't know what your father is doing—"

"Who is we?"

"Gin and me, of course." He sighed. "And all her friends. To see her, they all agreed to withhold certain information."

His mind went through the situation, every move like chess piece to get him where he wanted. Any wrong move would end in disaster. His mind worked along like the computer Callum clicked on all day, working the probable analysis of each outcome, until he settled on the best route available.

"I'm going to need the portkey."

"I don—"

"You're the fucking secret keeper. Don't even deny it. She's overseas. Otherwise, she would have arrived by floo, which means you've been supplied portkeys for her to come here on a regular basis. You must have one as well." Draco put his hand in the side of his cloak and brought out his wand. "Here's the two options you have… Number one, I can involve the authorities. Honestly, as much as I want to curse you, it won't serve anything but my anger. But if you force my hand, I will. I intend to be a father to my son, and I won't have you stand in the way."

"No."

"Are you saying you won't give me it?"

"I don't think I can, even if it means Azkaban. I've seen you in moods like these, and the recipient rarely comes out of unscathed."

Draco clenched his hands and almost shook in his fury.

"You think I'd ever hurt Granger or my son?"

Theo considered that.

"Not intentionally, no."

The words were an instant bucket of water on a fire. Theo was right. He needed to calm himself when he confronted Granger. Draco didn't want her to bolt or do anything rash. That wasn't his intention. There was a lot she didn't know, a lot that happened in the last five years that he was sure would change her view of him. He just needed her to listen, which was tricky with her anger and her magic.

"I promise I'll control myself." Draco took a deep breath. "I just want to meet my son, Theo. Surely you understand that."

"And Hermione?"

Draco hesitated.

"I'm not the same selfish shit I was five years ago. I understand I can't make Hermione do anything she doesn't want. Tonight, I just want to talk. And after that I plan to surprise her. I'd walk down and talk to her now, but it needs to be private, and I don't want her running away with the boy until I can explain."

Theo hesitated, and then he made a noise of exasperation.

"Merlin, Hermione's going to kill me, and Gin's never going to forgive me for this."

"I doubt Weasley would want to shag you on a conjugal visit in Azkaban either."

Theo shot him a dark look and then pulled a parchment out of his pocket and tapped his wand on it, extending it.

Draco reached for it, but Theo held firm.

"Only talk," he warned. "If I hear different, I'll kill you and dispose of your body so no one will find you. Father showed me many ways to do that before he died."

Draco nodded with agreement. As placid as Theo seemed, there was a deep violence under the surface, and Merlin help the wizard that made him snap.

"Just talk, I promise."

Theo let go of the parchment, knowing he held Theo's portkey to her flat.

Draco

Draco arrived at a small flat, heart beating erratically in his chest. It felt unreal, like he'd wake at any moment. The room was dark, quiet. An old Lady snored on the couch. It startled Draco a moment, before he realized it must be the babysitter. Hermione didn't have access to nursery elves for the job.

Draco put a silencing spell to prevent her waking and walked forward. A few toys littered the floor. With only the small illumination of the nightlight to see, he bent down to pick one up, examining some sort of mutated man in red and blue clothing with a spider on his chest. Draco inhaled a shaky breath. His son played with these. He wasn't even a baby anymore, but a little boy with a full personality. A complete stranger. He wondered if he liked brooms or books, wondered if his magic came in already. The anger began to creep back up the more he thought of all he missed out on, but he shoved it back down, determined not to let his pain rule him. Not when he had so much to lose.

Draco continued on his way. A bathroom was in the center of the tiny hallway, a step stool for the sink. A towel hung on a hook with sharks on the front.

Draco opened one of the two closed rooms. The first showcased a cozy looking bed, neatly made in a pretty shade of yellow. The rest of the room held a giant bookcase, overstuffed with so many tomes he wondered how she made them fit, and in the corner, like always, perched a plush reading chair, turned so she could get the best natural lighting.

He stood in the doorway, one hand clenched on the frame, staring at the life she made without him. A little smile tugged at his lips, finding little changed. No ostentatious trinkets, no presentations of her hero status. Just books and comfort.

Draco swallowed hard and twisted to view the last closed door. His son slept on the other side. He walked toward the door, understanding after he opened it, nothing would ever be the same. It creaked a little as it opened.

A nightlight turned in the corner, casting a rotating assembly of shadowed animals marching along the ceiling and walls. On the bed was a little shape under a stack of blankets and stuffed animals. Draco walked closer, finding this was the closest to peace he'd ever been, as if he stumbled into the confines of some mythological paradise, the type banned from mortal eyes.

He kneeled at the side of the bed and turned down the covers to reveal blond curly hair, long eyelashes, pink cheeks as if overheated. The little boy sighed and turned toward him still in the captivity of dreams. Draco allowed the tips of his shaking fingers to brush a silky curl, noticing his hair was a perfect mix of him and Hermione.

"Hello, Scorpius," he whispered, voice catching. "I'm your father."

Draco sat on the edge of the bed, just close enough to hear the tiny upticks of breaths, just close enough to see the rise and fall of his belly under the blankets. And then he stayed still and waited for the boy's mother, unable to look away from his child.

Hermione

Hermione furrowed her brow as she entered her home. Something bothered Theo, but he refused to tell her what it was besides clutching her shoulders, lips set in a hard line, saying he thought she should return home as soon as possible. The words caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand. He didn't elaborate, but maybe he couldn't elaborate.

The dinner parties always carried an inherent risk of discovery, but she refused to close herself off to her friends. It was the one concession she allowed herself. A deep fear overtook her that it might be taken away soon.

When she entered her flat, she smelled magic in the air. Unlike accidental magic, this didn't have a wild quality.

Hermione reached into her coat pocket and extracted her wand.

Maria slept on the couch. Hermione leaned down and gently touched her shoulder. The old woman startled awake.

"Ay, Dios, Mío!" She clutched her chest. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Hermione gave a little chuckle at her theatrics. The old lady looked around as if orienting herself.

"I did not mean to sleep."

Hermione shook her head.

"It's alright. Scorpius never woke up, and I'm home a little earlier than I thought."

Hermione dug into her coat pocket for some money, but Maria gave a wave of her hand.

"No money for me. I do this for love."

Hermione huffed and conceded. Tomorrow she'd insist on paying her back in some way like she usually did. Maybe by bringing up her groceries or changing out her lightbulbs. But tonight, something felt off, and Hermione had the instinctive sense to send her neighbor on her way.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

The woman gave a little affectionate pat on her cheek and whispered, "Buenas noches. Kiss that boy for me when he wakes."

When the door shut behind her, Hermione turned toward the bedrooms to check on Scorpius. His door was cracked open, and as she got closer, she saw the light twisting in his room, the animal shapes dancing along the walls.

Hermione entered the room and stopped short. Her whole body froze, as if icicles grew on her lungs. It hurt to think. It hurt to move.

Draco sat on the edge of Scorpius' bed, one hand gently brushing his curls.

"He looks a little like my mother," he said, voice low and gentle. Hermione wished to believe his good intentions, but she'd stolen his son, his heir. No matter how much he used to love her, it would not save her from his anger.

"Yes," she answered in a whisper, not wanting Scorpius to wake.

Draco didn't look at her, eyes still on her son.

"We have many things to talk about."

Hermione's whole stomach flip flopped inside her, a dread rising from the depths.

"Of course…" Her brain finally began to work again, trying to figure out a way to separate the father and son. "But we can do it in a place where we won't wake our son."

Draco rolled his eyes and finally looked at her. His hair brushed his cheeks, hanging loose, without the usual slicked style. His body resembled his father more, long, lean, broad shoulders, but he filled out a little more than his sire. His grey eyes glowed in the dark, just as piercing as she remembered. Draco Malfoy turned into a handsome man, maybe more handsome than she remembered, and it made her hate the universe.

An odd noise rose in her throat, but she withheld it, biting her tongue.

He took a ragged breath as they stared at each other.

"I'd like nothing more than to be alone with you right now." His eyes flicked up and down, appreciating her figure. "But I'm staying right here, until we can talk this through. I've placed a charm on the boy to sleep through for a few more hours. Nothing will wake him."

He meant to use their son as a deterrent from magical retaliation, but Draco didn't understand desperation.

"I'm not sure there's anything you can say," she said. "I don't trust you. What are you going to do? Take my son? Take me? I doubt you'll leave us alone."

Draco's eyes sparked when the rotating light struck across his face.

"Of course, I won't leave you alone. I deserve to be in my son's life."

"And me?"

He planned to take her son and raise him in the manor, but where did that leave her? She wouldn't go back to that life, stuck in the house, seduced into being a Malfoy mistress, while Lucius manipulated Draco into another marriage. No, she refused.

"Calm, Granger, I'm not going to take you anywhere without your consent. This isn't like the last time. Believe it or not, I have matured enough to realize coercion won't get me what I want."

That made her pause a little. The old Draco would never have given her a choice.

He sat up a little, just enough to give her an opening.

"Hermione," he said. His whole face softened. "You don't need to leave this—"

"Petrificus Totalus."

The spell hit Draco, and he fell back to the headboard, frozen. Hermione rushed forward, avoiding looking at him.

"I'm sorry, Draco, but you can't drag me back into that house. I won't let you subject our son to Lucius."

She hated throwing spells around her son, but she didn't want to hear one word more from the man that could take everything from her.

She grabbed her portkey and popped into Theo's living room. The Slytherin had been waiting for her and jumped to his feet.

"Traitor," she yelled, suddenly realizing who sold her out. She pointed her wand at him with her free hand, and he raised both palms in the universal sign for surrender.

"I'm really getting tired of being called that today."

"Tell me one good reason I should—"

"I can explain."

"Well, you better be bloody quick about it."

"He discovered it on his own. Confronted me. I had no choice!"

Her wand trembled, mind whirring, trying to think rationally. She needed to get away, but now realized she had no options for escape. At least, none that would stick their necks out for her. Theo's nervous expression from before made sense now. She wished to be mad at him, but she had no time, and she doubted he'd given up the information willingly.

"I need to leave," she said.

Theo looked terrible.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I wish I could help you more. You know I think of you like a sister now. I'd never betray you, if I wasn't forced to."

"I know, Theo. It's okay. I think I have a plan."

There was only one option left. She hurried out the manor, exiting the iron gate and the wards. Once out, she hesitated before pulling the little fool's gold form her pocket.

"Marcus Flint," she whispered while rubbing. "I need your help."

It took less than a minute until she heard a crack, and Flint stood before her, green eyes zooming around in a heavy black cloak. He crouched in a defensive position learned from war combat, wand at the ready.

"Hermione?" He whispered in confusion, standing slowly when he realized no threat remained. His eyes stuck to her son in fascination. The boy's platinum curly blond hair an instant giveaway to his paternity. Then his eyes glanced up and saw where he was. "You were with Theo the whole time?"

"Marcus…" It felt weird to say his name. "I need somewhere to hide."

He glanced around, as if coming to a realization.

"Fuck," he said. "You shouldn't have walked out of Nott's wards. You can't hide now. He'll know."

"Draco?" Hermione asked, still confused.

"Draco isn't the one to worry about. Bloody hell, I wish you'd have whispered my name behind the gates. It would have given me more time to plan."

"I thought you might splice if you tried to enter the wards."

She took a step back from his anger, but he only shook his head.

"We don't have time for you to trust me, but you'll have to, for your son's sake."

"You don't look surprised I'm carrying a child."

"I'm not," he admitted. "I know who sired him as well. I've kept up with the gossip." He held out his hand. "You'll need your Gryffindor courage for what's about to happen, but it's the only way. You understand?"

No, she didn't. But he was right: there were no other options.

Hermione gave herself only one more moment to hesitate, before she accepted his outstretched hand, squeezing it tight. Marcus gave a tug, so he held her tight in his grasp. She had no more time to second guess her decision before he apparated them away.