A/N: Hey guys, sorry it's been so long. I had a lot to deal with this year. I'm back at it and I have a whole lot planned for this story. So here you go!

Chapter 22

Hermione emerged after a while, looking slightly confused and overwhelmed.
"Well?" Draco asked, quickly covering the space between them. She sighed softly, dipping her head.
"I can't believe myself, brightest witch of my age, sure," Draco smiled at her confession.
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Granger, everything is different here." He wrapped his arms around her frame, hugging her cold body against his.
"Let's get you out of those wet clothes," his hand rested on the small of her back as he pushed her out of the dark and musty hallway. She turned her head, looking at the guards.
"Treat her with respect, don't you dare hurt her." she insisted.

After being bathed and warmed up by her maids, Hermione emerged in the throne room in a satin off shoulder red dress. Her golden crown sitting atop her perfectly styled hair. Draco smiled at her and beckoned for her to take her rightful place next to him. The dark wooden throne creaked as she sat down.
"This world might even be more complicated than the one back home," she whispered at him.
"You might be right about that." He smirked, reaching his hand and grabbing hers. Hermione remained quiet when his guard finally entered, looking slightly frozen from being out in the woods for so long.
"Did you get him?" he asked. The men bowed their heads.
"I'm sorry, my lord, he was gone before we arrived." Draco cursed under his breath.
"Find him and bring him to me alive," he ordered. The men nodded and left the room. Hermione looked at her husband, he looked slightly worried.
"He'll come for you," he finally spoke as he looked at her.
"He won't get me," she squeezed his hand reassuringly.
"I am Hermione Granger, you know, I know how to throw a punch," he smiled at the memory. She sure did. He remembered his nose hurting for months after she had hit him with her right hook.
"I know you do," he tried to sound sure, to reassure her as she did him, but he was afraid for her. He was afraid for the both of them.

After a week, they both started to let their guard down. If he hadn't tried anything by now, maybe he wouldn't at all.
"Can we go for walk in the gardens today? It stopped snowing and I love the feel of fresh snow underneath my feet." Draco looked at his wife. He had a million things to do today and so did she, there were so many reasons not to go for a walk. But taking her out into the snowy white garden seemed way more fun than everything else.
"Of course we can," he smiled as he grabbed her hands, gently brushing his thumb over the lacy fabric that reached down her hands. He pressed a kiss on her lips, "get your coat and we'll go right away." Hermione smiled broadly and let go of his hands. She wrapped herself in a fur coat before grabbing his hand once more. They made it outside without someone disturbing them. Draco had ordered everyone to let them be for the day, seeing they both needed a day off. Ruling nations was rather taxing on a person. The gardens were beautiful. The snow had been left untouched and there were no footsteps in the white blanket. The trees seemed to be groaning under the weight of the winter and the air was that beautiful grey colour it had before another snowstorm would hit. As they walked, the snow crisped underneath their feet.
"This is so beautiful," Hermione whispered.
"Yeah," Draco agreed. "You know," he started, stalling. He grabbed both her hand and made her look at him, his hand reaching up and caressing her cheek. "I don't think I ever want to go back." He finally let it slip. Hermione didn't react, she just stared at him. "Oh, but you do," he spoke after a little while of her remaining silent. She didn't speak, she just smiled at him, her pearly whites joining with the white of the snow. He frowned. Was she laughing at him? Was this all a joke to her.
"I know what you mean," she finally whispered, grabbing hold of the back of his neck and planting a firm kiss on his lips. He smiled as he melted into the kiss. His hands reaching her waist and pulling her closer. He felt her tongue run over his bottom lip and gladly opened his mouth to meet her. His hands grabbed her face and he pushed her off him just enough to be able to look her in the eyes.
"Hermione," he whispered, mustering the courage to tell her what he had wanted to tell her for a while now. Her golden brown eyes were searching his for clues. He smiled softly at her. "Granger, I lo…" He never got to finish that sentence. Everything seemed to pause the moment he spoke. A stabbing pain went through his body and he knew, right that second, that this was it. This was death.

Hermione watched Draco's eyes grow big, an expression of agony appearing on his face. It was only then she noticed someone standing behind them. Draco let go of her, his hands grasping at the sword thrusted through his abdomen. Blood was leaking, covering the white snow in burgundy. Hermione grabbed him as he fell.
"No no no, please." Draco looked up at her, gasping and moaning. Hermione pressed her hands to the wound but found herself being ripped from him by the hands of her attacker. He pulled her from him, Draco's hand reaching out for her. She screamed, struggled against the iron grip. She heard Draco call out to her in a muffled shriek. It was then she remembered the dagger. The attacker grabbed her shoulders and righted her. She could finally look upon his face, his blue eyes so familiar.
"You'll finally be mine now, you're finally free." He smiled at her, a wicked smile of a man who lost all touch of gentleness and compassion. Hermione didn't waste any time.
"I'll never be yours," she hissed as she grabbed the dagger and thrust it into his throat. His eyes grew big and he staggered away from her, only to collapse a few feet further. Hermione rushed to Draco's side. He was whispering her name ever so soflty.
"It's okay, I'm here," she pressed her hands against the gaping wound, blood rushing through her fingers.
"Help, please, somebody help us." She screamed as loudly as she could. She was panicking, she couldn't heal him, there was nothing she could do and he was slipping. He looked at her and his bloody hand reached out, grabbing her face. He forced her to quiet down and look at him.
"Hermione," he whispered, feeling the blood block his throat. He wiped the tears from her cheek. "Shh, don't speak, you'll be okay. we'll be okay," she was talking really fast, her nimble hands working on his body.
"Hermione, look at me," he whispered. His grey eyes found her ember ones and he felt that familiar feeling in his heart. "I'm dying," he whispered. When she started crying and protesting, he silenced her once again. "Listen to me, you're strong, you can do this. You can go home now," he urged. She shook her head.
"I can't," she cried, her tears mixing with the blood, "you are my home." He smiled softly, coughing up blood.
"I love you," he whispered. She looked at him, growing quiet for a second. "I love you," he repeated. She pressed her lips on his, coating hers with blood.
"I love you too," she whispered against his lips. The last thing he felt was her breath against his lips and her tears on his cheek. She cried as he slipped away, holding on to him for dear life, praying for some miracle that would never come.