It could have been a whole five minutes before Hermione allowed herself to take a breath, she wouldn't know, she wasn't counting this time.

Draco held her on his hips and examined her face as if he was trying to see if it matched with his memory. Barely a few days had passed where they were separated, but when you spend every waking minute with someone for months on end, three days can feel like a lifetime.

A lifetime that neither of them wanted to know of again.

"We should go back," she said softly. "Harry and Neville are probably watching us."

He frowned, "Neville? As in Longbottom?"

She slid down his frame to stand on her own, and grabbed him with her good hand. "Yes, that Neville. Not only are we killing horcruxes but we are also raising the dead."

They marched through the tree lines until met with a hot glaze. Hermione stepped through, Draco in toe, and was shocked to see neither of the boys were in sight. It was a comfort to know that the groping show they just displayed didn't have an audience after all.

Harry and Neville were in the tent, sitting on their respective cots, twiddling their thumbs. Harry rose from his seat to greet Draco with a curt nod, while Neville bounced his knee anxiously, avoiding any and all eye contact.

"Thought you were dead, Longbottom," said Draco, a sharp quip to his tone.

"Oh yeah? Could have said the same thing about you, Malfoy."

"Pity. I was looking forward to sharing a few stories at your expense at your funeral."

Hermione slapped his arm, "Stop it." He rubbed it theatrically. "Neville is the one who killed the snake, and saved me. You have no right to bully him anymore."

He rolled his eyes and snapped back into his post-Hogwarts self. "Least he's good for one thing."

Harry folded his arms and lifted his nose, "How did you find us, Malfoy?"

"Deluminator," Hermione answered. "Oddly, the same way that Ron found us last year."

"With your voice?"

She confirmed.

"Hmm. That's twice now that two blokes have found us with that thing, 'Mione. Plan on making a third?"

"Not in the near future, no. I'm hoping this might be the last time we're on the run."

"Now that, I can agree to."

Harry eyed Draco, then took Neville by the shoulder and led him to a table in a separate room inside the tent, giving them somewhat of what you would call privacy. Draco started straightening out her sling from how it twisted when they reunited. Some paste had seeped through the bandage.

"It was a curse," she explained. "I'm not sure which one. I missed the first throw but was clipped by the second. There's a chunk missing."

"How big?"

She used her fingers to demonstrate, "This big. We don't have the proper medicine to heal it, but enough to suffice. Harry did a pretty good job considering."

"I see the tables have turned. Usually you're the one that does all the saving, and now you have both Potter and Longbottom to write thank you cards to. The world really must be upside down."

"It turned upside down the moment you and I started to have cups of tea together every night."

She smiled and he smirked, playing with the watch still on her wrist.

"Will you think I am ugly now that a piece of my arm is missing?" She asked shyly. "It's not a very pretty look. I may have to spend the rest of my life wearing sleeved dresses."

He rested their foreheads together. "There is not a part of you that I could define as ugly, Granger. Should you ever invest in sleeved dresses, I will set them aflame. Scar or no scar, you are mine to show off."

"Yours, you say?"

She turned her head and he kissed her sweetly. "Mine."

In the other room they could hear murmurs of Neville pestering Harry with questions.

Her hand reached around Draco's back and her cheek rested against his chest. Lowering, there was something pointed poking out of his trouser pocket. She pulled it out to see that it was a wand. His mother's wand.

"You brought a wand," she stated.

"I did."

"But you have no magic?"

Draco took the wand out of her grasp and stepped out of their embrace to more of a centre position within the tent. With two flicks of his wrist, still keeping eye contact with her, he knocked Harry and Neville out cold from across the room. Both boys slumped face first into the table with a clunk.

Hermione did a double take.

Cooly, Draco laughed and tucked a hair behind her ear. "I've had my magic back since I snogged you. I knew from the ice burning at my fingertips."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't know if I wanted to use it anymore."

"Draco, if you had told me I would have forced Harry to take you with us in the first place!"

"You said we had three more days to be together. I was going to tell you the morning you left, but you didn't give me the chance. You lied to me, Hermione. I thought that we don't lie to each other."

She poked him in his collar, "Keeping information as vital as returned magic from me is equally as bad as lying itself. Neither of us are more innocent than the other."

Waving his wand again, a dozen glowing butterflies shot out and floated around them in a graceful tornado loop. Hermione gasped at their beauty. She also gasped at his charm skills.

Draco tilted her chin up. Purple sparks danced across his silver eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should have told you."

Doing her best not to wince, she placed both palms flat on his stomach. "Draco, I am a house made of glass for you, you know that right?"

He blinked, shamefully, "I do."

"Then I should hope that from now on you are for me, too. I'll promise never to lie to you again, it broke me to do so. But I need you to talk to me again. I don't want us to lose what we started with because we've replaced it with sex."

A curve to his lip twitched, then he bowed to kiss her nose. "Less sex, more talking. You ask big things from a man who craves to touch you more than he needs air to breathe."

"I never said less—I just meant talk more."

Tipping his head back, he chuckled. One of those deep belly chuckles that were genuine. "More sex and more talking. Now that is something I can vow to you for the rest of my life."

As the purple radiance of butterflies fluttered around them, Hermione pressed up on her tip-toes and kissed him. His tongue slipped inside her mouth and she whimpered. This was her apology for leaving him behind, and he happily accepted.

Groaning came from the opposite side of the tent. Still kissing her, Draco cleared the butterflies, then pulled away just as Harry came to. Hermione bit away the grin forming.

"What happened?" Harry asked, cracking his neck. "Did you just knock us out?"

Draco shrugged, "Had to prove I had my magic again somehow."

"And you couldn't have lit a fucking candle?"

"Afraid not."

Hermione walked past the cockfight and tried to wake Neville up by rubbing his back. It didn't work so she used her wand and a reviving spell to do the trick. He woke with a jolt. She made him a cup of tea to feel better.

While Draco was inspecting the sword of Gryffindor, Harry watched him like a hawk.

"So you say this just appeared to Longbottom?"

"Under a chair, yes."

"Because he is the true Gryffindor?"

"Yes."

Quirking an eyebrow, Draco handed it back to Harry, "You lot are so fucking sentimental."

"And the Chamber of Secrets wasn't sentimental?"

Before both of them could puff their chests and start again, Hermione interrupted by pretending her arm was hurt. All three wizards rushed to see if she was okay. After a new dressing, the tension in the room had settled.

Resting her feet under Draco's thighs on her cot, Neville asked, "So now what do we do?"

"We need to think about what You-Know-Who could have created to be his seventh horcrux," said Harry.

Draco subtly looked at Hermione, asking silently if she was going to tell Harry what he needed to be told. She clenched her eyes and swallowed hard. There was no point holding it off any longer.

As she parted her lips to confess, Draco squeezed her calf and shook his head no. He mouthed the words, not yet. Trusting him beyond her own judgement, she shut her mouth and listened to the ideas Harry was discussing. Instead of telling him he was being led in the wrong direction, she pretended to take part in the conversation.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent doing that for hours on end, with no real conclusion set in place.

By dinner, Neville had come to terms with Draco's good guy transformation, even asking him questions about why he decided to turn. As much as Draco hated talking about his emotions, he gave short answers that would feed the curiosity. Hermione rewarded him with a playful hand on his trousers under the table when the conversation was directed otherwise.

They all went to bed before the sun truly set. All four of them had little sleep in the past two days and it was finally catching up on them.

Hermione laid on her good arm with Draco engulfing her on a shared cot. Neville was snoring within minutes of saying goodnight and she knew that Harry would stay awake a little longer trying to concentrate on not letting Voldemort into his dreams.

Their faces were so close together that their whispers did not need a silencing charm.

"I have to tell you something," said Hermione. "You might not like what you hear, but you deserve to know."

"You're not leaving me for Longbottom, are you?"

She smiled, "No. Not yet."

He pinched her hip and she pressed into him as a reflex. It didn't feel right wearing clothes lying next to him. She missed the warmth his skin brought.

"You can tell me," he said. "More talk."

"It's about your mother. Draco—we think that she's the spy."

She didn't realise he was smiling until it dropped. His moving hand on her lower back stopped and it was so quiet she swore she heard his heart stop.

"How can we be sure?"

"Neville said she came to an Order meeting at the cottage he was kept in. Willingly. She would have been one of the only ones with intel on where the snake was being kept."

Draco rolled onto his back and stared at the top of the tent. Using the back of her finger, Hermione stroked his jaw.

"Confession?" He asked.

"Of course."

"I don't hate my mother as much as I should."

She sat up on her good elbow, "No one said you have to hate your mother."

"Shouldn't I? Her and father spent years moulding me into their prized possession. I wasn't a child born of love, I was a child born of legacy and duty. Even if she is with the Order, she would only be doing it to save herself for the aftermath."

"You don't believe that she might be doing this in your honour? Your parents have been led to believe that you died, Draco. I heard them the night of the battle. They were searching for you."

He turned his head on the pillow to face her. "I don't know what I believe anymore, Hermione. My mother is supposedly part of the Order that she spent years hating. How am I supposed to know if it is with a genuine heart?"

"You don't. But if it is with a genuine heart—will you forgive her for everything else?"

"Will you forgive your father for what he did to your mother?"

She sighed, understanding what he was trying to say. "My father won't ever learn from his mistakes, but your mother might. Should the time come, and you do choose to talk to her, no one would turn against you for wanting her in your life. "

"Who knows, mother and I might be cellmates in Azkaban. Then she'd really be in my life."

"Ha-ha."

He made a comedic facial expression to which she drew away with a kiss.

"Your mother loves you, Draco. She did force Snape to take an Unbreakable Vow to protect you after all."

"Speaking of which," he rolled back over and pulled her in. "Snape is the one that I went to find when I left the farm."

It was hard for her to yell when they were whispering so lowly.

"What? Why the hell would you go and see Snape?"

"I figured you and Potter would follow the smell of smoke, he would point me in the direction of the fire and we'd meet in the middle somehow. Also, you were the one that assumed he might be the spy."

She raised her brows, "Is he?"

"Not directly, but in ways, yes. He wasn't surprised to know I was alive either."

"Have you ever seen Snape have any other facial expression apart from disgust?"

"Yes. Annoyance. Mainly around you, Potter and Weasley."

She rolled her eyes, "I should have seen that one coming."

The tip of their noses were brushing while Draco ran tracings along her spine. Magnetically, their legs tangled under the blanket.

"Hermione, I don't want you telling Potter that he is a horcrux. That's not a burden you should need to carry."

"I have to Draco."

"No, you don't." He fed his hand under her shirt and restarted his tracings. "Let Snape tell him."

"Why would I do that? I don't even know if we can trust Snape, let alone go to see him."

"There is a whole story that none of us know that Potter needs to hear."

She backed up along the pillow and frowned, "What story?"

"Snape said it goes beyond You-Know-Who, and that it is what Dumbeldore should have told him when he first shared about the horcruxes. I would have taken us to him tonight but there would have been a mess after the snake was killed."

Hermione didn't wish to think about the killing spree Voldemort would have gone on after learning of the sixth horcrux being destroyed. Her mind tried to paint a picture of all those Death Eaters they fought being slaughtered for failing their task, but she shook the image away.

If word got out of who shared the location, there was no hope for Narcissa Malfoy.

Draco dotted every freckle on the bridge of her nose. "Snape is a good man. He wants to help."

"Wouldn't it just be easier if I tell Harry? He can trust me, he might not trust Snape."

"Your friendship might not survive if you're the one to tell him. If he gets angry, he can get angry at Snape. If he needs someone to blame, he can blame Snape. Not you."

"And if this is all just a trap to lure Harry to You-Know-Who?"

He outlined her lips. "Then I will kill Snape, or any witch or wizard who tries to harm either one of you. You have my word on that."

A shiver rushed through her. It wasn't meant as a romantic gesture, but she took it as one. She looked at his watch and it read 8:12pm. In the other room, Harry could have fallen asleep by now.

Goosebumps formed along her skin. Draco ran his palm over the part of her left arm that was exposed. "Are you cold?"

Too tired to form any more words, she simply buried her face into his neck. He must have his wand nearby because warth washed over her in the familiar touch of a heating charm.

Careful around her injury, he hung his arm over her ribs and scooped her in closer. If that was somehow possible. Every part of their bodies were pressed together, with barely any breathing space, though neither of them cared.

They fell asleep kissing goodnight.

That night Hermione dreamt of what could be the future, rather than the past. She was standing at the front of a house with dried out lawn and a brick letterbox that indicated the house was numbered 47. The roof was tin and the paint on the walls were eroded from salt. In the distance you could hear waves crashing.

Someone grabbed her hand. She looked up and the hot sun was blinding the person's features to a mere silhouette, but when they spoke, she trusted their voice.

They led her up two steps, and knocked on a door that was made of mesh sort of material on the inside. To keep out bugs by the look of flies crawling over it. She could partly see through the mesh into the house.

The outline of a woman came down the hall and as she stepped closer, Hermione could recognise the perfume she was wearing. The very same that sat on the bathroom sink in her parents ensuite.

Whoever was next to her was now standing behind with their palms resting on top of her shoulders. Two squeezes and she relaxed into them. They whispered in her ear, "I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere."

The woman coming down the hall was coming into view, but just as her features became clear, Hermione woke up.

Her cot was empty, as were the two in the other room. The pain relief potion had worn off overnight, and her arm throbbed where it was cut. She tried not to cry at the pain and breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. Something her mother used to tell her to do when she would scrape her knee falling off her bike.

Outside of the tent she could hear the boys talking. Draco was discussing with Harry the likelihood that Snape is a spy and proposing that they go see him today.

Neville was hesitant for obvious reasons, but Harry wasn't protesting like she thought he might.

Grabbing her purse off the table, Hermione accio'd her pastes and potions. They were running dangerously low. She took the risk of downing a fair amount of pain relief, and left a few drops left for later. It numbed her arm temporarily.

She walked outside and greeted everyone good morning. Neville was cutting up fruit for them to eat.

"How's the arm?" Draco asked. "Need anything?"

"I took some potions but they're going to run out by tonight."

Harry handed her pieces of apple, "Well, Malfoy has come up with the idea of seeing Snape, no doubt something he's already discussed with you. If we can't get answers about the horcrux out of him, we might be able to steal some of his potion supply."

"And you would be okay with giving Snape a visit?" She asked.

"We haven't really had any other ideas, have we?"

"No, I suppose not. So how do we find him?"

Draco fiddled with the elastic of her sling again, untightening it so that he could apply new healing paste. "He has a house in Spinner's End. The fallout of your snake culling would be over by now, if he's not with You-Know-Who, he would be there."

She hissed when he lifted her arm to remove the bandage.

"And you know this, how?" asked Neville, mouth full with banana.

"Longbottom, in case you might have forgotten, the bloke is my Godfather. I have paid him a visit once or twice in my life."

"Once or twice, including the days before you found us here?"

"Yes. He charges very little board, you should ask if you can stay the night. I'm sure he'd love your company."

"Sorry, I'm not sure he'd take me in. I'm not a Death Eater, remember?"

Hermione couldn't be bothered telling either of them to stop, it was like flogging a dead horse.

The new slather of paste was cold when Draco applied it. He had a gentle touch that Harry didn't, which made the process slightly easier. When he was done, he kissed her shoulder and tightened the sling to sit better above her breasts.

"You're a pretty good healer," she whispered to him when Harry and Neville started their own conversation. "Maybe you could take after Andromeda and start working at St Mungos when this is over."

"No, I can't do that. Your future husband is supposed to be a healer. I wouldn't be able to survive working with the prick knowing he gets to come home to you."

"I suppose you're right. It's not legal for you to snog your patients after you treat them, anyway."

He hovered over her lips but didn't move closer, "A shame really. I was just getting good at it, too." Then stood up, leaving her yearning for more. She twisted her jaw and swivelled to join Harry and Neville's discussion.

They packed up the tent and stuffed it into the extended bag that Harry now carried, within the hour.

"Are you sure you can handle apparating?" Draco asked, sternly with a grumble.

"I'll be fine. If the wound reopens it's not that big of an issue. You are the one that has to ensure that none of us splinch. Focus on that, not me."

He looked as if he wanted to say more but decided against it, knowing better than to pity her.

"Right, let's get this over with," said Harry. "No point putting off the inevitable."

Draco scoffed, "You're a cheery chap, aren't you, Potter?"

"You know me, always the smile that lights up a room."

Harry took Hermione's shoulder and held Nevilles hand, while she interlocked her fingers with Draco. She squeezed him twice, and closed her eyes, hoping it might ease the pain somehow.

A pull at her navel and the suction of a rubber tube later, they were standing in front of a narrow brown bricked house. Surprisingly, next to no nausea was at the pit of her stomach.

Draco took the lead and knocked on the front door in a specific pattern. Rapid three times, two times spaced, repeat. Twenty one seconds passed before someone opened. That someone being an elf.

The elf curtsied for Draco, then bowed her head as she swung the door to its full capacity.

"Where is he?"

"Master Snape is ins the reading room, Master Malfoy. He has beens waiting for your arrivals."

"Thank you, Dripsy."

Hermione followed Draco into the house, and thanked the elf for her service, as did Neville but not Harry. They walked two sets of stairs that creaked with every movement. There were no pictures on the wall, no evidence that this was ever a home at all. It was as barren as a house could be.

Hermione could tell Neville was agitated. She gave him a weak smile and reassuring nod to tell him that everything was going to be okay.

Snape was standing by the window in the reading room, his hands behind his back, staring out into the land that was behind. Draco cleared his throat, which didn't snap his attention, but rather drew it slowly. There was no life behind his eyes anymore. Not even disgust.

"Quite the stunt you three pulled yesterday," he droned, taking his time with every word coming out of his mouth, ensuring they were being heard. "Godric Gryffindor would be proud."

"Why are you willing to help us?" Harry barked. "Who says that we should trust you?"

"You have exhausted yourselves well past trust now, Potter, otherwise you would not be here."

"Malfoy said that you know about the seventh horcrux. Why would you want to destroy it?"

"The same reasons that you do."

Harry clenched his fists together, so much so that his knuckle popped. Hermione stepped forward before he blew a fuse.

"You're a double agent, aren't you?" She asked. "You've been working for both Dumbledore and You-Know-Who this whole time. Dumbledore asked you to kill him. To prove your alliance with the Death Eaters."

Snape lowered his chin and stared at her darkly. If Hermione hadn't spent years at the end of that exact look in classrooms and detention sessions, she would have quivered in fear.

"I believe it would be better if I showed you my evidence…"

Flicking his wand, a bookcase split in two, opening to reveal a hidden Pensieve. Hermione had read about them but had never seen one for herself. It was similar to a bird pond that sat at the back of her childhood home, only shallow stone and possessed carvings of ancient runes.

Snape brought the tip of his wand to his temple and drew a long string of memories from his mind. He dropped it at the centre of the Pensieve and watched it swirl into a kaleidoscope of images.

Harry took a step forward.

Draco was deadly silent by her side. His silence indicated that he might already know what was about to be revealed, or parts of it anyway. Hermione confirmed this theory when he cupped her into his side, seemingly preparing her for an outburst that might take place.

There were chairs scattered around the reading room, but no one took any.

"Come on," said Draco. "We can wait elsewhere."

He guided her and Neville into another room down the hall that could be used as a bedroom but had a lack of decoration to be so. Draco placed her into the only chair in the room and transfigured a desk into a stool for himself. Neville took a seat on the ground.

"Whatcha reckon he's showing Harry?" asked Neville. "What the last horcrux is?"

"I think it might be a little more complicated than that," Hermione answered.

Draco could sense that she was nervous. He drew shapes on the inside of her palm to distract her. She could guess some of the words he spelled out such as a, relax, but others weren't as obvious.

There was no sound coming from the other room. For reasons completely based on mistrust, that made her more tense.

"He's going to be okay, Granger."

"You can't guarantee that."

"No, but I can guarantee that he's not being harmed. You know how Potter is going to react when he finds out. He'll walk in the room and demand to be sent to You-Know-Who straight away."

Neville jumped in, "React to what?" Neither of them replied. "Hey, how come you two know something is going on, and I don't?"

Hermione exhaled, "Neville. Harry is the seventh horcrux."

"I don't understand."

"The night that his parents died, You-Know-Who made him a horcrux. It was an accident, I'm assuming. That's what Snape is telling him now."

"Hang on a second," he waved his hands, "You're telling me that Harry has to die for You-Know-Who to die?"

"Possibly, unless Snape knows another way that part of him can be destroyed."

"If you two knew all this, why didn't you say anything?"

Draco placed his hand on her thigh, interrupting, "She guessed. There was no point telling him until she knew it was certain. Potter would have run off on his own to save the day without thinking about the consequences if she had."

"How do you know that it's true?"

"Because I confirmed it with Snape when I came here."

There were muffles of talk coming from the reading room. Hermione jumped to her feet but Draco held her back.

"Don't go in there yet," he said.

"Why not?"

"There was more to the story than horcruxes. I'm not sure what, but it involves his mother. Potter needs to talk it out with Snape before we get involved."

"His mother?"

She sat back down, overthinking every possibility of why Snape could have information about Harry's mother, and why it had any relevance to Voldemort now. James Potter used to tease Snape in school, that they knew, but they'd never heard anything about Lilly before.

They waited for eighteen minutes before Harry came into the second room.

He was dazed, and had a permanent crease in his brow. It seemed like an appropriate response for someone who was just informed that they alone had to die in order to save the world.

Hermione went to him, "Harry, I'm so sorry."

His eyes found her but his mind hadn't caught up yet. He looked around the room, at Neville and then at Draco. "Dumbledore knew all this time and never told me."

"He should have told you, Harry. He should have told you everything. But listen to me, you're not alone in this. Wherever You-Know-Who is, we'll find him together. Do you hear me? I refuse to let you go alone."

"I can't let you come with me, Hermione. I have to do this by myself or they'll hurt you."

She started crying, "I don't care. They can't hurt me anymore than they already have. What if you don't die? What if you need someone to help you fight?"

He pulled her into a hug. She didn't care that he was crushing her arm. It wasn't nearly as painful as it was knowing that her best friend was about to lay down his life. That she might never see him again.

"I'll wear the cloak," she sobbed. "I'll wear the cloak so they can't see me. Please Harry, don't make me stay."

His fingernails were digging into her ribs he was holding onto her so tight. "It's too risky."

"I'll go with her," said Draco. "We'll both go under the cloak. Whatever happens, I'll make sure that she gets out okay."

Hermione pulled out of the hug and wiped her snot and tears with the back of her sleeve. "Even if you say no, I'll follow you, Harry Potter. You know I will. Please, we've lost Ron, I can't stand back and let you go, too."

Harry deflated. He could see the heartbreak in her eyes. "That's just it. We watched him die, I don't want you to watch me either."

"You have no choice in this. We've come this far together, I'm not abandoning you now."

He was not going to win this argument. Everyone in the room knew it. "You stay under the cloak at all times," Harry said, pointing at her and then at Draco. "Even when I'm gone, you have to keep her hidden. Promise me that, Malfoy."

Draco tipped his head, "You have my word."

Snape came around the corner and entered the room. He absorbed the emotions and acknowledged the suffering.

"I take it you told them," he said.

Harry wiped his tears from under his glasses. "They already knew."

"Very well. Should you all choose to follow Mr Potter, know that the Dark Lord will want to boast of his triumph on the Hogwarts grounds. The war does not end with the horcruxes being destroyed, nor does it end with The Dark Lord's demise. The Order will need to be informed so that a plan can be set in place."

"Can't you tell the Order?" Hermione asked.

"Your theory was true in that I was a double agent, Miss Granger, but my ties with the Order were cut the night that Dumbledore died."

"But how did Narcissa Malfoy become the spy if you did not help her?"

Snape looked to Draco, "A grieving mother has powers beyond any of that a witch or wizard can obtain."

Draco sucked in his cheeks and rolled his jaw. Hermione felt sorry that he did not know how deep his mother's love ran until it was too late. He deserved to know his entire life.

Neville stood up off the ground and folded his arms. "So where do we find this balded slimeball, anyhow? Where's his lair?"

"The Dark Lord has taken accommodation at the Crabbe Estate. He is expected to return this afternoon"

"Who else is with him?"

"A number of Death Eaters. Most importantly, the Lestranges. Seems as if Bellatrix has placed a target on your back, Miss Granger. Tread with caution. She does not shoot warning curses."

"Thank you, but I am well informed on her capabilities."

Harry ran a hand over his face, "What is the time now?"

Looking at Draco's watch, Hermione said, "1:23pm"

"Right, that gives us enough time. Neville, you head to the cottage and inform the Order of what is happening. Warn McGonagall that You-Know-Who will want to make a scene of his win at Hogwarts and tell her that she will have no choice but to release everyone from the safehouses for an army big enough to fight. Malfoy, Hermione, we'll go to the house. There's just something I need to do first."

Neville took over from Hermione in the role of embracing Harry until he couldn't breathe. They didn't say much, but nothing needed to be said.

Hermione dreaded the moment that she'd have to do the same. Draco held her in his arms while a few premature hiccups fell from her mouth.

Giving one final nod, and a wish of luck, Neville apparated on the spot back to the cottage.

Snape gave them a new top up for potions, all with better quality than those that they stole from Andromeda's kit. Draco forced her to take a whole vial for her arm then and there.

As they prepared to leave, Hermione turned to Snape and asked, "Professor, the night of the battle, before Harry called a ceasefire, something happened to You-Know-Who. The Death Eaters would never have gone into hiding if it wasn't bad. What was it?"

Taking a moment to reply, Snape eyed his godson. "Upon hearing of his son's death, Lucius Malfoy made an attempt to kill the Dark Lord himself. The curse only weakened the body that the Dark Lord had created, allowing the horcruxes to regain his strength over time in hiding. But Lucius was hit with the rebound that night. He died without knowing he was struck."

Draco's body stiffened in Hermione's clutch.

"I apologise for you finding out this way, Draco," Snape continued. "But if you go looking for him on the battlefield, he will not be there."

Hermione looked up at his expressionless face. He cared but he didn't let it show.

"Draco, I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine," he said. "At least now I don't have to kill him myself."

His hands started to tremble. She knew he was bluffing, but let him brush his feelings aside for later. Taking one hand into her own, she kissed it, physically telling him she was sorry once more.

Snape bid them goodbye.

"Ready?" asked Harry.

"Are you?" said Hermione.

"Yeah. I am."

She told him to hold onto her shoulder. Taking in one unsteady breath, she closed her eyes and Draco apparated them away.