"Oh my god, Neville."

Hermione's legs collapsed in on themselves and she fell into the arms of a man she had thought died. He caught her, not hugging as tight, perplexed over why this was such an emotional reunion.

"What are you doing here, Hermione? Why didn't you come into the cottage?"

She pulled back, "Neville, Professor McGonagall told us that you had died after your escape in trying to find You-Know-Who."

"I didn't run away. McGonagall moved me here in the middle of the night a couple months ago, saying that everyone else would move to different houses, too. She said she was gonna tell everyone the next day. Did she really tell you I died?"

"Yes!"

Neville rubbed his face, and took a few steps back. "Do you think she told my Grandmother that I died?"

"I honestly cannot give you an answer, everything that McGonagall was telling us was a lie to keep Harry from running away. She obviously came up with the story of you dying in order to make us believe that we would be caught by Death Eaters should we ever try to escape."

"This is so strange."

She grabbed him by the hand and started pulling him up the hill back to the campsite, "Come on, we have to tell Harry!"

The wards let them in with a warm fuzzy welcome. Hermione told him to stay put by the fire while she snuck into the tent to wake Harry. He tousled and growled at her at first, but followed her back outside with hooded eyes and hair sticking out in every direction.

"What is it, Hermione?" He groaned, placing his glasses on.

She opened the tent flap and let Neville's presence speak for itself. Harry froze on the spot. He turned back to get nonverbal confirmation that it really was who he thought it was. She smiled and nodded.

"Hiya Harry," Neville said, with a waver to his voice.

Harry bolted straight for him, tackling him into an embrace that had one of those lad back taps. Neville took it in his stride and accepted the dramatic hello with a dumb grin that spread to his ears.

"How are you even al-"

"McGonagall lied to us, Harry. Neville was taken in the night and brought here thinking that everyone else was being moved as well. She used him as a scare tactic."

"So does that mean that Romilda is also alive?"

"Most likely. She needed to use people that weren't going to write to us or were so close that we'd want to seek revenge on their behalf. No offence, Neville."

Neville shrugged, "None taken. She's right though. I thought writing to you guys would only be an inconvenience. I did write to Seamus a few times, but he didn't reply, though. Were you guys with him?"

"No," Harry said. "We had Dean. McGonagall probably never even gave him the letters."

Hermione spread her arms out, "Wait. Neville, if you've been staying here at the cottage, what are you doing out here? It's the middle of the night."

"I was upstairs while the meeting was going on. They always muffle the room so I can't hear, but I could see you two outside coming in from the beach from my window. I've been tryna find you guys out here since Bill and Fleur went to bed."

"Do they always have meetings here?"

"About once a month, always at random. Sometimes Bill and Fleur leave to go somewhere else."

"And who usually comes?"

"They're different every time. One time even Malfoy's mum came. Thought she was taken captive at first, and they were tryna get her to talk but she came in same as everyone else."

Harry snapped to look at Hermione, whose eyes were about to bulge out of her own head. "Narcissa Malfoy came here for a meeting with the Order?"

"Yeah, reckon she might be a spy. Probably trying to help after Malfoy died and all. Maybe him dying turned her over or something. Never saw his dad though, he's still with the Death Eaters."

Hermione had no idea what to believe anymore. Their whole world was being flipped upside down, and there was no way of telling what was right side up or not. Since when was Narcissa Malfoy the type of woman to turn against her husband and create an alliance with the enemy? Since when was McGonagall a pathological liar?

The farm had stability to it. There was routine and a sense of control, but now that they were out, she had no control over anything. As someone who usually has an answer, she'd lost her ability to seek them.

"So Snape isn't the spy," Harry concluded.

"We don't know that," said Hermione. "He might have led her to the Order. How else would she have found them?"

He pulled on the roots of his hair, "I don't know. This is all so fucking confusing, I have no idea what to believe anymore. We've been kept in the dark for too long."

"What are you guys trying to do anyway?" Neville asked. "And I thought you were paralysed, Harry?"

"Yeah so did I, until we realised that I'd been poisoned this whole time."

Neville looked to Hermione for help on the context. "It's a long story," she explained. "We're trying to find You-Know-Who's snake. It's one of the last horcruxes."

"There's supposed to be seven, right?"

"Uh-yes. We-uh-we don't know what the seventh one is yet."

Harry eyed her stutter suspiciously. He could tell she was keeping something from him, but probably didn't want to bring it up in front of Neville. Maybe if she kept Neville with them, then he wouldn't ever ask her about it.

"You should come with us, Neville," Hermione suggested. Blurted out more than suggested.

"Come with you where?"

"Little Hangleton. We overheard them talking about it at the meeting. Their spy—well, Narcissa Malfoy as it turns out—said that the snake would be there during this weekend's mission. Harry and I wanted to check it out tomorrow to see if we can't get a head start."

"Do you have anything to kill the snake with?"

She paused, opening and closing her mouth similar to a fish. She wondered if it would be narcissistic to think that Godric Gryffindor would send them the sword of Gryffindor when the need for it came.

"We don't need to kill it at first," said Harry. "We just need to find it. One step at a time."

"We haven't really thought this out as much as we had hoped to, have we?"

Both Harry and Neville replied, "Not really."

They sat down around the fire, staring at the flames as if they had the answers they were looking for. Hermione traced Draco's watch as a sense of comfort. It broke her heart knowing that his mother was mourning him, and that all this time, she was sacrificing everything she had in his honour.

"Neville, you mentioned before that Draco Malfoy had died," she said.

"Well, yeah, that's what everyone had said when everyone was retreating from the battle. Something about him trying to save Pansy Parkinson."

"He-uh-he is still alive. In fact, he was staying with us at the farmhouse."

With the orange filter across his face creating shadows, Neville looked harsher. More angier. "Malfoy was a Death Eater, wasn't he?"

Hermione searched for the right words. She thought this might make good practice for when this was all over and she'd have to explain to quite literally everyone that she knew, the reason behind everything that has gone down between them.

"Draco turned to the Order before the battle. His inheritance is what we have all been living off of the past year. That night, his aunt attacked him for betraying them, and while he was supposed to be left for dead, Dean found him drowning in his own blood and brought him to be healed. He has been staying with us since."

"And we're believing that story?"

She nibbled at the gum behind her bottom lip, "It's the truth."

"Do you believe it, Harry?"

Harry flicked his gaze to Hermione if only for a second, and then straightened his shoulders to say, "I do. He's proven himself a few times now."

"Huh. I really have been out of the loop, haven't I?"

"Tell us about it."

Neville clapped his hands over his knees and stood back up. "I want to come with you guys. I can go back to the house and-"

"It's okay, Neville," Harry interrupted. "We'll be alright on our own. It's better if you stay here where it's safe."

"No, I'm coming with you lot. There's only a certain amount of gardening I can do here anyway. If I die, everyone already thinks I'm dead anyway, right?"

"Yeah but-"

Hermione butted in, "Harry, he wants to come. McGonagall took our choice away, who are we to take his?"

"This is different."

"Is it?"

He went to argue against her, but she lowered her chin and gave him a look that warned him not to even try. With a defeated exhale, Harry stood to shake Neville's hand.

"Meet us at the beach in two hours. Don't pack too much, we're hoping this is a short mission this time."

Neville agreed and sprinted back to the house. Beach, farm, city, looks like wherever everyone landed, they were all wanting to escape just the same. Even if it cost them their life.

While Harry kept a lookout, Hermione slept for a total of 38 minutes according to Draco's watch. Short enough that she couldn't quite remember what she dreamed about. It wasn't much but it would be enough to get her through the next day.

They'd pack up the tent and burn out the fire before it hit 5am. Neville was jumpy when they spotted him on the coastline. He had a satchel over his shoulder, looking around paranoid that Fluer and Bill were going to catch him before they got there. When he caught sight of them, his whole body sighed in relief.

"Right, so have any of us actually been to Little Hangleton before?" He asked, stuffing his bag into Hermione's.

"I have," Harry answered. "I've been to the graveyard. It's where the Tri-Wizard cup port-keyed me and Cedric. Fair warning, it's not the most sunny of places."

It had been a while since Harry had apparated, but Hermione knew better than to question him about whether he was ready or not. She was choosing to pick her battles this time round.

All three of them held hands, and within a second, their navels were being pulled across the country. That tight twisting feeling never failed to make Hermione want to tear her skin apart. They landed on their knees in damp grass with an oof.

It took them a moment to recognise their groundings. Stumbling up to their feet, they circled, looking around at the graveyard that Harry had described so many times, and yet apparently, never did it justice. This was possibly the gloomiest place Hermione had ever set foot in.

It seemed as if the sky had never opened up over Little Hangleton.

"Everyone okay?" Harry asked.

"Fine."

"Yeah, fine."

"Good. Let's keep going. We don't need to linger anymore than we already have."

Harry led the way in a direction to which she hoped was the exit. They passed gravestones covered in moss, names no longer readable, and what could have been animal or human bones. The grass was uneven, wet enough that it was dangerous to walk too fast.

"How do you know where to go?" Hermione yelled out to a keen Harry.

"I've seen this place in my dreams before!" He yelled back. "There should be a house just over the hill."

Neville was hanging back with Hermione, trying to steady his pace so as to not slip. "Are we really going to go off a dream that he's had?" He mumbled under his breath.

Hermione laughed. "It's nothing we haven't done before."

A small gate led them out of the graveyard and down a narrow gravel path. Harry was walking so fast he almost skipped every second step. Hermione and Neville were at a near run in order to keep up with him. They collided with his back at a sudden stop at the peak of a hill.

"There it is." Harry pointed, showing them a house that sat about a mile away. A single light was flickering at the top floor. "The snake is in there. I can feel it."

"Harry, what if You-Know-Who is there, too?"

"He's not."

"How do you know?" Neville asked.

Hermione tapped her palm on his shoulder, "Trust him, he knows. It's a whole thing. We'll explain after."

"Sorry, I guess I'm not so used to running on the fly like you guys are. Bit weird, don't you think? We're barely nineteen and you two act as if you risk your lives on the daily."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. "Neville," Harry said. "You don't even know the half of it, mate."

With that, they started a cautious journey to the house. Each of them wand at the ready. Harry took lead, Hermione a close second and Neville not far behind.

There was a smell amongst the air. Stronger than death, but weaker than Dark Magic. It was a scent that clung to their clothes, as if it were a warning. A particular part of the stench reminded Hermione of the night Ron died.

They fell to a crawl when they reached the stone wall surrounding the house, with their backs pressed against the cold rocks.

"I don't hear any voices," Hermione whispered. "They might all still be asleep."

"There are wards, can you see them?"

A hot haze glimmered around the perimeters of the building. Hermione dragged the tip of her wand over one section, slicing it as if it were a surgical knife tearing open skin. She could recognise what was casted by the way the magic ran through her fingertips and up her veins.

It was hard to explain out loud, but she knew.

"They've put up detective wards. I can cut through them with a spell I read about, but it'll take a few minutes."

"Do what you can," said Harry. "Don't rush. We've got time."

As discreetly as possible, Hermione ran her wand three metres along the boundary wall, giving them enough space to run inside without being detected. It took a type of precision she stored solely for examinations, or practical tests, but she managed to take down the first layer.

Murmuring another spell that she'd read, the second layer came down.

Then, the third spell took a physical toll on her. The ward resisted her command, making her arms shake and bones feel as if they were being stretched. Two beads of sweat ran down the side of her face and when the ward finally gave way, she fell gasping for air.

"Hermione!" Harry whispered, scrambling on the floor to reach her. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay, I'm okay," she puffed. "The last one was just a little tricky."

"Probably created to fend off witches not as brilliant as you."

"At least they tried."

He laughed at her and helped her up. She got the invisibility cloak out of her purse and threw it at Harry. He wrapped it around himself so that only his head was visible, then took a quick peek over the wall.

"I'm going to go and see if the door is unlocked," he said. "Then I'll do a lap around the whole place and see if I can sense where the snake is. Stay here."

Hermione and Neville nodded. Harry covered his complete self with the cloak and probably jumped over the wall rather than used the gate. She couldn't see but she heard a thump as something landed on the other side.

As a precaution, she cast a blending charm over her and Neville to the stones so that from an outsider's perspective, they couldn't be seen.

"Feeling okay?" She asked. "This is a lot, so I'd understand if you're nervous."

"Faced worse, I suppose, haven't we?"

"Yeah."

Neville bumped his knee against hers, "I never got a chance to tell you after the battle, but I'm sorry you and Harry lost Ron. He should be here with you guys, not me."

For the first time, Hermione accepted somebody else's sympathy. "Thank you, Neville."

"He was a good friend."

"He was."

"Do you miss him?"

She curved her lips, then dropped them. "Everyday."

A weight lifted off her chest, and the need to throw something or hit someone wasn't there. She knew Neville meant what he said, and so she didn't push it away. She was sorry that Ron wasn't here too.

"So how come you call Malfoy by his first name now?"

She shook her head, "Why does everyone ask that? It is his first name. His parents called him that, so why is it so odd that I do as well?"

"Because most people don't use their enemies first name. Especially you and Harry."

"Yes, well, he isn't our enemy anymore."

"I'll have to see that for myself to believe it."

"He's nothing like how he used to be at school," she defended. "Still an arsehole beyond comparison, but he's not as self centred anymore. We have a lot to thank him for. Especially me."

Neville tilted, with a curious expression. "Oh yeah?"

"A lot happened on that farm. Maybe one day I can tell you about it."

"I'd like that."

A second thud came back over their side of the wall, and Harry's head popped out into thin air. Hermione took their blending charm off. "Doors locked but the snake's in the back room. Two people are on guard, one's asleep, one's not. We can break in through the window."

"Yes but then what?" Hermione asked. "Are we going to try and kill it or are going to capture it?"

"Capture. Neville and I will take the guards, you shrink the snake. Do you have a vial or something we can put it in?"

She accio'd a vial from her bag. It was the size of her forefinger.

"That'll do," Harry said. "Neville, you take the guard that's asleep first, keep him knocked out. I'll take the one that is awake and knock him out. We both take their wands. Got it?"

In unison they said, "Got it."

"Alright. Let's go."

It was obvious that Harry had been meditating on the idea of finding the final horcruxes for months on end. He had most likely thought of this day every second of the past year, picking apart his own weaknesses and figuring out what they'd done wrong in the past. His leadership and direction had improved, as well as his vision for attack. If they were lucky, they could very well pull this off.

They slipped through the hole in the wards that Hermione had created, and stayed low as they crept through to the back of the house. Neville had a squeaky shoe to which Harry silently yelled at him to take off. He was now going to have to fight wearing his old Gryffindor socks.

Hermione's heart wasn't as unsteady as she thought it might've been. She thought that maybe she had accepted her fate no matter what it may be. That or she's been doing this for so many years that the fear of being hurt went out the door along with her childhood innocence.

By the time they reached the back room, morning was starting to rise. The sky was a mesmerising purple colour that was too beautiful for a place that smelt of death and decay.

Mouthing and pointing, Harry directed Neville on how he should angle himself to cast at the guard. Neville couldn't really understand and accidentally said out loud, "What?"

His eyes exploded and he clamped a hand over his mouth as they pressed themselves against the wall, away from window view. From her angle Hermione could see a man peer out of the glass, take a sweep off the back yard and then back away when he was satisfied.

They all exhaled.

Shakily, Neville rose from the ground and stood parallel with the window frame. He took a small look inside and then made the motions with his hands that the snake was asleep. Harry gave a thumbs up.

Using her fingers, Hermione counted to three, and then on one she quickly stood up, blew out the glass in the window and yelled, "Now!"

Neville shot a silent spell first, keeping the sleeping guard knocked out cold, and then ducked for Harry to take over. Harry did not go for an Expliarmus like he usually would, but rather threw a Sectumsempra that came from the depths of his belly. The second guard fell gargling in his own blood.

With little to no grace, Hermione jumped through the empty window frame and landed inside the back room. The snake had woken and was ready to attack. It slid across the room, analysing its prey, hissing and snapping its jaw. Hermione stumbled backwards into a chest of drawers.

"Now, Hermione!" Harry yelled. "Do it!"

Hermione had fought this snake before. She knew its strength. She also knew that she'd wasted time throwing useless hexes at it last time instead of going for the kill. This time round, she'd come prepared.

With a sharp flick of her wand, she aimed at the snake, "Diminuendo!"

At first its head shrunk, but then it came back to full size.

"Shit," Hermione cursed, running across the room as it slithered towards her with vengeance.

Harry and Neville climbed through the window as footsteps came thudding down the stairs within the house. The door swung open and three Death Eaters stood with their wands already blindly casting dark curses. Hermione managed to dodge one, but a second took a chunk out of her arm.

She screamed, clutching onto the open wound, then hid behind that chest of drawers she tripped over. Taking one short but needed breath, she didn't dare look at her arm and started hitting the Death Eaters with as many hexes as she could think. They dodged them with great skill.

Lights were flashing across the room. Red, white, green, purple. It was a firework display of murder.

The snake compressed itself into a corner, hiding from the passing curses. Hermione thought that if she rolled she might be able to capture it, but she knew that this was a horcrux they were dealing with and no simple spell was going to work.

Warm blood was running down her arm. She could feel her pulse thudding through the exposed muscles. It stung like a son of a bitch.

Harry yelped as if he had been hit but she remembered Draco telling her not to get distracted and forced herself to contrate on the person she was duelling.

In her peripheral vision she could see Neville picking something off the ground. Something silver with a ruby handle. When her Death Eater wasn't fast enough to catch her Reducto, he flew into the wall unconscious and she moved out from the drawers to help Neville. His Death Eater was smaller but made up for it with his speed.

Hermione struck him from behind, before he even got a chance to know she was there.

She didn't look back and gave Neville the chance to finish him off if need be. Harry looked as if his legs were giving way. She went to help, except she hadn't realised that the snake had moved from out of the corner.

It pounced on her with it's fang barely missing the edge of her face. By miracle alone, she dodged it the first time, but when she fell onto the floor, there was no way she could roll away the second time.

As she lay there, time moving in slow motion and the snake spreading its jaw for a meal, Hermione acknowledged that she was about to die.

Her face felt how Ron's looked when he died. The same one where he almost smiled at the humour of it, how stupid it was that he was dying at such a young age. She wondered if he was as at peace with death as she was right now.

The glimmer of a silver blade drew her back to reality. A battle cry bounced throughout the room while Neville, with a single stroke, sliced off the snake's head. His roar still raged as the body thudded to the ground.

Hermione stared, glassy eyed, at the head that had fallen on her lap. Its tongue was still dangling through its teeth. Someone pulled on her arm, forcing her to stand, and the head rolled onto the floorboards in the opposite direction of its body.

She could hear that the horcrux had died. The soul leaving this earth.

Neville dragged her over to Harry who looked to be having a fit below the window. She cupped his face, and told him to breathe.

"He's coming," he said, clawing at the back of her hands. "He knows we've killed it. He's coming."

Hermione soothed him with shushes, "Sshh, breathe, Harry. You have to get up. Alright? You have to get up now."

"He's coming. He's never been this angry before."

Neville helped her pick Harry up under his arms, his other hand still holding the sword of Gryffindor. She didn't want to risk losing it again by putting it in her bag, so she let him hold onto it for the time being. He was the only one worthy after all.

There were cracks coming from outside the house. Cracks of apparition.

Hermione grabbed Neville by the wrist and told them to hold on while she concentrated on the hill behind Shell Cottage. Within half of a second they twisted from dark Little Hangleton and landed on the outskirts of Tinworth. If Voldemort saw them, they didn't see him.

The transportation must have torn Hermione's injury even more. She doubled over on the open field, trying to scream but no sound was coming out of her mouth. Her shirt was torn and a chunk the size of a bar of soap was missing from her arm. Neville vomited at the sight.

Harry, being the man of action, accio'd any and all healing potions he could find.

"Dittany," Hermione rasped. "D-drop some of the dittany on it."

Steady hands untwisted the cap to the Dittany bottle, "Neville hold her down," Harry instructed.

Neville seemed hesitant at first but she pleaded with him until he pinned her down by her shoulders, and knee over both of her legs. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said on repeat, preparing himself for the cries that were about to come.

The potion felt like fire and ice. Hermione trashed under Neville, and audibly screamed this time.

"Almost there, Hermione," said Harry. "Hang in, you're almost there."

She made the noises of what could only be described as heaving. Neville kept apologising and Harry focused in on the task at hand with gritted teeth. "One last one, alright? There we go, that's it, that's it. All done."

The fire settled but the ice remained. Her skin was sewing back together like tiny little knitting needles, and not in a comfortable way.

Hermione knew she'd been crying by the dampness on her entire face. She had no energy to wipe away any of the tears, or the snot. She couldn't even find the strength to blink.

Harry and Neville sat down on either side of her. All three of them tried to catch their breath and let what just happened sink in.

"We did it," Neville said, unashamedly smiling at the sword at his feet. "We actually did it."

"That was all you, mate. You got the bloody sword for Gryffindor for crying out loud. Without that we would have never made it out alive."

A laugh of disbelief, "Yeah. I guess I did."

"Six down. One more to go."

If Hermione wasn't struggling to remember her own name right now, she might have told Harry about what to expect next. But she was struggling, and so she decided to let Merlin, or God, or whatever it was that was guiding them, to highlight the right path before anyone sacrificed themselves any further.

Before they left the farm they managed to steal some healing supplies from Andromeda's kit. This was how Harry managed to sit her up and bandage her arm with something better than a torn shirt and a prayer.

The scarring paste smelt of burnt jam and the sling was too tight, but she didn't complain. Neville helped give her some food despite her protests in saying she was capable of doing it on her own.

"You need to eat," he said. "You've lost blood."

He ignored her prideful huffs.

The boys set up camp while Hermione focused on not passing out. She recited potion ingredients in her mind in order to stay conscious, but it wasn't working very well, her eyes were drooping and every once in a while she'd feel her body tip to the side.

Coming back from setting up the wards, Harry blew raspberries, "I'm having deja vu," he said. "You look exactly the same if not worse than Ron when he got splinched."

With barely any energy Hermione replied, "At least we don't have a cursed locket this time."

"Yeah, you're not wrong there. How's the paste going? Do you need me to tighten the sling?"

"Paste smells atrocious but it's working. If you tighten-" she dazed out for a second, "if you tighten the sling- it uh- it-" She stopped, unable to remember what she was talking about or where the sentence was supposed to end.

Harry knelt before her, "You should sleep, Hermione. You look as if you have one foot in the grave, and one foot on a banana skin."

"What?"

"Nevermind. Something the twins say. Come on," he scooped her up under her legs, "you can rest for a few hours. I'll wake you up before lunch."

Hermione would have argued that she was okay, but that would mean she would have to open her mouth to talk. She let Harry carry her to her cot and lay her over the covers. He stroked her hair away from her eyes and she was out before the flap of the tent closed.

She dreamt of Jessica Bowen's seventh birthday party. There was a treasure hunt to which Hermione was determined to win. Danny Sheehan, the boy who used to tear her drawings apart in art class, told her that her dress was ugly that day. She didn't cry, but he did when he lost the game.

The prize was a giant lollipop. Her parents only let her have a few licks, but it was worth the win anyway after seeing Danny lose.

When she woke, the tent was too hot to sleep comfortably. Feeling relatively better, she got up and followed the smell of food being cooked outside.

"Hey Hermione," said Neville, scoffing a sandwich, "Howdya sleep?"

Harry made a seat for her beside himself. "Good," she said. "I feel a lot better now, thank you."

"Want a sandwich? Harry caught a rabbit and cooked it. Tastes like chicken."

The thought made her nauseous, "No, I'm okay. I might just have another muesli bar."

"Suit yourself."

All three sat nibbling at the food, debriefing on what happened in the morning. Neville was still buzzing with heroic energy. He spoke chaotically over what was going on through his head while the Death Eaters were attacking, not stopping to breathe in between sentences. Harry expressed his worry over Voldemort being able to figure out where they were.

"He's been able to read my mind before, Hermione."

"Yes but he is much weaker now. Don't you think that he would have found us on the farm if he could do that anymore? His soul is being destroyed, and so is his magic."

"But what if-"

"You were trained in Occlumency for a reason. Use it if you must."

He picked at the grass frustrated, "We're just so close that I'm scared we can't finish him off. How do we even begin to think of what he could have used as a seventh horcrux?"

Hermione braced herself. She had to tell him. Even if she was wrong, she had to tell him. This was the only way they were going to finish the war.

"Harry, there's something I need to-"

"Who is that?"

She followed his gaze to a person amongst the trees of the forest. They were stalking through the field with purposeful strides, and as they got closer, it became clearer as to who it was.

"Is that who I think it is?" asked Neville. "Can he see through our wards?"

Hermione rose from her seat and walked towards the edge of their illusion spell. "No," she whispered to herself.

Both boys called out to her to stop but she stepped through the ward before they could hold her back. The person in the forest halted at her sudden appearance. They stared at one another, close enough to recognise, but too far away to be certain.

But she should have known that Draco would have found her eventually.

Hermione's feet were gliding across the pastures to get to him. He came towards her in more of a run. They met one foot apart.

"Granger," Draco sighed. "What the fuck happened to your arm?" He tried to walk forward but she pointed her wand in warning.

"Stop! I can't trust that it's really you."

He frowned, but accepted her sceptacy with a roll of his eyes and a roll of his wrist, "Do what you must."

"The night of my birthday, I asked you what were the best and worst gifts that you'd ever received. What were they?"

"A letter from my father and a candle from Crabbe."

"And mine?"

He smirked, so naturally that no impersonator could duplicate. "An original script of The Winter's Tale and a hairbrush."

Hermione grunted, pushing him back with force. "What are you going here?! Why the hell did you leave the farm?!"

She pushed him again, then slammed her fist into his chest. He fought off her hits trying to grab her wrists. Her injury was tearing open but she ignored it to express her anger.

"I left you there for a reason! I was trying to protect you!"

He grabbed a hold of her wrist, stopping her mid hit, "I don't care."

She tried to escape his hold but he was too strong. He flung her back, and their chests heaved. Then, in a snap, they stopped fighting and started kissing.

They refused to let go of one another. Hermione left her feet off the grass and hooked her ankles around his back. "We killed the snake this morning."

"Fuck, Hermione. You couldn't have at least waited for me to catch up first?"

"Not a chance."

How he was holding her up so easily with one hand, she would never know. He stroked her hair, and kissed her cheek, then captured his lips with hers. He was everything she remembered him to be, only better.

Pecking him once, twice, then releasing, she asked, "How did you find me?"

"That metal thing you threw away brought me here."

"What metal thing?"

Draco pulled the deluminator out of his pocket, and showed it to her. "I picked it up after you threw it into the paddock that night."

"What? Why?"

"At the time, probably to piss you off. What is it?"

"It's-it's a deluminator. It was Dumbledore's but he gave it to Ron. He'd used it too to find us when he ran away. He said it called-"

"Called his name." Draco rubbed her cheek with his thumb. "Your voice called my name. I clicked it and it brought me to this forest."

Hermione cupped his face and kissed him as deep as he would let her. They kissed with anger, with passion, with gratitude.

"I'm not done yelling at you," she said, pulling away for a second.

"Nor am I with you," he replied, then slammed them back together.