Life has been rough and time flies before I realize how long it's been since I last updated. Thank you all for your patience. As always, so much love goes out to RESimon and shestoolazytologin for all you do. Love you both dearly.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Hermione rapped on the door softly and waited for a response. None came. Instead, the door swung open to reveal an enlarged closet filled with piles of boxes. Harry sat atop one of the boxes, his fingers steepled under his chin as he glared hard at the wall across from him. Harry leaned against the far wall, watching them with dark eyes as they stepped into the room. Hermione's hand twitched backward toward Draco's warmth, and she felt the brush of his fingers against hers for a brief moment before she caught Ron's eyes snap to her. She paused and pulled back, the silence stretching on as Ron's eyes shifted to where Draco stood behind her, his eyes darkening further with each moment that passed.
Hermione cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak.
"Let's get on with it, then," Harry said, standing abruptly.
Hermione met his eyes and nodded. There would be time for this — perhaps — if they somehow managed to survive this war. "I suppose we should begin with what you've done so far," Hermione started, pausing halfway as she realized how carelessly she'd spoken.
Ron's eyes snapped to her and he scoffed, the hollow sound filling what little air the tension hadn't yet consumed. "Is that right?" His eyes slid between her and Draco, as his face remained red, his features rigid with tension.
"This isn't about us, Ron," Hermione said stiffly.
"Isn't it, though?" It was Harry that spoke this time. "Imagine, where we would be if you'd been here as we needed—"
Hermione was acutely aware of Draco's heat behind her as he shifted. "Potter," he started, his voice low in warning.
Ron stood moved forward abruptly, knocking over a box that spilled out several shrunken items of furniture across the stone floor. "Malfoy," he spat.
"Did you read what I sent you?" Hermione cut in, her eyes on Harry.
Harry gave her a short nod. "Yeah," he said, the word forced through tightly clenched teeth.
"Did it help?" she asked. Her words felt like nothing more than something to fill the silence, forcing something out of the strange truce they had tried to form.
She expected another short answer, yet watched as Harry's entire demeanor shifted, seeming to deflate as her words hit him. "The deathly hallows," he said. "Do you remember them?"
Hermione was already nodding, knowing she'd already committed the entirety of the book to memory. "Your cloak," she said, recalling the night she marked the page. "I wasn't certain, but Dumbledore, and the description..."
"Dumbledore did everything by halves, didn't he?"
She almost laughed.
Almost.
There was a ripple at the corner of her vision, and Ron stepped forward again. "Is that all, then?" he said.
"Hardly," Hermione said. "We still need to discuss-"
"Horcruxes," Draco said. He stepped beside her, his knuckles brushing deliberately against hers as he looked Ron squarely in the eye.
Just the word had Harry twitching in a movement that mirrored Hermione's own. She watched as the tension flooded back into his form, his expression shuttering from troubled to cold in an instant. "Horcruxes," he repeated, his voice flat.
"Did my notes-"
"Substitute for your presence?" Ron cut her off. "Not at all."
Heat rose within her as her jaw tightened. "Speak, then, Ronald," she said, crossing her arms, "since you appear to be so well versed in exactly what I was doing."
This time, his scoff twisted into a manic laugh. "And you expect me to think that sleeping with this—-"
"I've met with you with the intention that we all speak freely," Hermione snapped, stepping closer to him, "but do not think for a moment that I will let you speak ill of my husband in front of me in any form."
"Quick, isn't it, how soon he went from tormenting you to—"
Four wands were brandished in an instant. Draco's was pressed into Ron's throat, while Ron's dug into Draco's chest. Harry's was a mere inch from Draco's temple.
Hermione's was pressed deep into Harry's chest.
"We won't do this," she said slowly, "because if we do we won't be able to stop and there are too many lives that we have to protect."
She dropped her wand and caught Harry's wrist. Harry's eyes flamed and she glared back, grasping the end of his wand with her free hand. "You know better than anyone that we haven't the time, Harry," she said. Her eyes traveled over his face, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the lines of tension that she was certain hadn't been there the last time she'd seen him— seven months ago that felt like a lifetime—
Harry wrenched his hand out of her grip, interrupting her thoughts. "Drop your wand, Ron."
Ron's flush deepened even as he slowly lowered his wand, watching Draco's every movement as Draco did the same.
A split second later, Draco's wand was flying through the air.
Hermione whirled to glare at where Harry was lowering his wand, his glare trains on Draco. "Don't ask me to trust him. I never will. Don't ask me to apologize, because I won't."
"There is too much at stake for us to get caught in petty squabbles—"
Draco caught her by the arm, stopping her. "I let him do it, Granger. If it'll help us get a damned thing done, then so be it."
Hermione met his eyes, seeing the truth of his words in them.
Harry cleared his throat, making her pull back just as her fingers brushed Draco's. "I suppose we'll have to find somewhere to start," he said gruffly, crossing the room and nearly tripping over the box Ron had knocked over earlier. Hermione watched as he cursed under his breath before he started spelling shrunken furniture and trinkets she couldn't identify back into the box.
"Andromeda's last home was compromised," Harry said. "She had to move. Quickly."
Hermione nodded. "Have you been in safe houses since…?"
Harry looked away. "Mostly."
Hermione looked over at Ron to find him watching her, his eyes dark. "I put everything I thought you'd need in the bag—"
Ron laughed, the sound chilling. "Forgetting that what we'd needed most was you."
"She was never at your disposal—"
"Horcruxes," Hermione said, cutting Draco off. "Everything begins and ends there, so it's where we'll begin."
"No," Ron said, straightening. "We'll start with why you m—-" His jaw clenched as his fists tightened, "why he is here in the first place."
She knew it had been coming, yet found herself unprepared all the same. Her chest tightened as she sucked in a slow breath. "Dumbledore…" she trailed off, her fingers twitching toward Draco. How could she equate him when he was—- everything, to the circumstances that they'd begun with? She could feel a tight beat of tension thrumming where Draco lingered at the back of her mind, mirroring the way his fists tightened in her peripheral.
It was Draco who answered. "My mother is the Order's informant. Her price was my protection." Hermione turned surprised eyes to him in time to catch his low scoff as he looked at Harry. "What better way to ensure my protection than to bind my life to that of Potter's best friend?"
"He's more to me than where we began," Hermione said, finding her voice. "I know— I know that this isn't how you should have found out, but it's an irreversible truth. A truth that I wouldn't reverse if I could."
Hermione watched as Ron's jaw worked, but he said nothing.
The silence lingered several moments longer before Harry spoke. "Are you certain about the fiendfyre?"
Hermione blinked for a moment at his dismissal. "Yes," she said. "It works."
Ron crossed his arms. "And how, exactly, would you know?"
Draco stiffened. "We know because Bellatrix Lestrange is making Horcruxes of her own."
"She's…" Harry let out a strangled laugh. "I can't be surprised now, can I?" Hermione watched as he deflated, the weight of the war almost tangible as it weighed him down.
She took an instinctive step closer before pulling back. "We can destroy them, Harry," she said. "I swear it. We've already destroyed two. Draco understands— everything about her, and I've seen it myself."
"What do you mean you've seen it?" Ron asked.
Hermione ran a hand through her hair. "I've seen the horcruxes. I've seen...her, and I—"
Harry shot to his feet. "You saw her and you didn't kill her?!"
Draco tensed. "We have."
Hermione straightened. "How exactly did Voldemort come back, Harry?"
Harry's jaw worked as he flushed red. "Don't patronize me—"
"If we'd killed her, how could we know with absolute certainty that we'd gotten all of them? Can you trust that she can die before we find out if she'll be back in another decade, tormenting our own children?" Even as the words came out they felt detached, attributed to someone in another existence who saw a future beyond the days ahead that only seemed to be shortening.
"There is no one—" Draco spoke through gritted teeth, "no one that wishes her dead more than I. But I want her end to be final."
"Have you found any more?" Hermione watched as a look passed between Harry and Ron before Harry gave her a sharp nod.
"One," Ron said, reaching under his collar to pull out a necklace that hung around his neck. "This locket."
X
Hermione ran a finger through the light layer of condensation upon the windowsill, rubbing the wetness between her fingertips. She watched the moisture disappear into her skin until her eyes blurred. The silence of the room was broken only by the low noise of the shower running in the bathroom, and she noticed it only when the noise stopped. A few moments later, her husband emerged from the bathroom, wetness glistening on his skin as only the towel slung low on his hips covered his nakedness.
He was watching her. "Are you alright?" he asked, stepping closer.
Hermione nodded. "I'm just…" she met his eyes, and the words she'd wanted to use to brush it off died on her lips. "I'm worried about Harry and Ron," she said. "They wore a Horcrux for months— on their own and I…" she bit her lip.
"They're grown men," he said. "You can't account for their every movement."
Hermione sighed. "I know. It's just— they wore a Horcrux for months. And they almost got themselves killed. If the Order hadn't incapacitated Yaxley—" Her words died on her lips. It had been her, after all, who'd truly incapacitated the man.
Draco caught her by the hand. "None of this is on you, Granger," he said, his eyes meeting hers.
She reached up and brushed a hand through his still wet hair, wordlessly casting a drying spell on his locks.
Her fingers drifted down to his jaw, the drying spell following the path of her fingertips as it caught the stray droplets that lingered on his skin. The air shifted in time with his slow exhale that had his warm breath fanning over her fingertips. She shivered as her skin tingled, every inch of her suddenly thrown into the reminder of how long it had been since they'd last been intimate.
His eyes darkened as her fingers trailed lower, brushing down the side of his neck in the place that she knew made him shiver when she kissed him there. Lower still, and she raised her other hand to his chest, making their descent slow as she moved them over every ridge in his abdomen. She fanned her fingers outward as she reached the edge of his towel, her eyes never straying from his.
It took only a soft brush to make his towel pool at his feet.
His soft pink cock was slowly flushing red, hardening further as she grasped it. She lowered herself to her knees in one fell swoop, capturing his tip between her lips and touching her tongue to the salty wetness while her hands wrapped around his pulsing warmth—
A hard rap on the door froze her mid-movement. She looked up at Draco from beneath her lashes, watching the way his form shuddered lightly as everything in his stance shouted at her not to stop—
Another hard rap, and— "Hermione." Ron's voice was cold and flat.
She pulled her lips off of Draco's cock and let her hands fall away from the heat of him. She straightened, watching as Draco snapped his towel up from the floor.
"Wait—" He moved so quickly that she managed only to utter part of her protest before he was pulling open the door.
Ron was rigid, his eyes flicking between the two of them so quickly that it left no room for any of the explanations that came to and died upon her lips. Despite the fact that she was still fully dressed, she knew that Ron's judgments had been set before he'd set foot in the room.
Instead, she found herself straightening and clearing her throat. "Yes?" she asked, meeting Ron's eyes steadily.
Ron's eyes flickered to Draco before landing back upon her. "Come."
She nodded and crossed the room, grasping Draco's arm where it held the door open, blocking her path. She squeezed it softly and he stepped aside just enough for her to slip past. "I'll be back soon," she murmured, brushing his fingers as she passed.
Ron was already halfway down the hall. She followed him quietly, down the stairs and out the door and across the slushy ground. He stopped to look back at her only when he reached the end of the dock, and it was only a brief moment before his eyes were trained upon the water.
She stood beside him quietly, observing the stillness of the night as she waited for him to speak. Several minutes passed before he did.
"He has nightmares." Ron's words were so soft that they were nearly lost on the breeze.
"How often?" Her response was just as soft.
She heard him shift and sigh. "I've lost count. He sees...him."
Hermione bit her lip to stop it from trembling, steadying her voice before she spoke again. "Things are coming to a head, aren't they?"
"Faster than we can manage," Ron said. There was an edge to his voice, and she turned to him, reaching out to take his hand.
Footsteps behind them stopped her before she could. She turned to see Harry approaching them, his features barely visible in the dim light the sliver of a moon gave them. Draco was a mere dozen steps behind him, and she could feel the pulse of his tension stirring at the back of her mind.
"Let's get it done then," Harry said, nodding at Ron.
Ron pulled the locket out of his pocket and handed it to her wordlessly. "I assume you know what to do."
She ignored the edge in his tone as Draco stepped up beside her and transfigured a branch into a small raft. She placed the locket atop it and watched him lower it to the water.
"Godric's Hollow," Harry said. "There are answers there."
"Then that's where we'll go," Hermione said.
A moment later, a flaming snake erupted from the end of her wand, engulfing the small raft in its fiery embrace.
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