Author's Note:

As my beta commented: "Dun dun dun! And so it begins." ;-)

Again, many thanks to MusicLover19 for beta-reading! 3

..

I Won't Let That Happen

"Merlin, finally!" Draco let out when Hermione stepped out of the Floo at his place, returning from Ron's birthday dinner. He didn't even give her a chance to check her hair for soot, instead immediately reached for her hand and pulled her in.

"It was barely a minute," Hermione protested weakly, tapping the index finger of her free hand on his chest when she was close enough. She was glad that he had managed to recover to some extent from the blow of losing his company, that he had felt good enough to come along and enjoy the evening. So, his eagerness to continue what they had started in a corner at Pansy's place both amused and excited her.

"I was afraid you wanted to stay longer at that miserable party," he replied as he reached for her finger still tapping on his chest, only to pull her in for a kiss. "You were the best part of it."

"Oh, come on. It wasn't that bad, you know?" Before he could capture her lips, she stopped him with a teasing finger on his slightly parted mouth. "They did their best given the situation..."

He only shrugged in response before he sucked her finger into his mouth, playing around it with his tongue, while his hands had found her waist and were now working on pulling the clothing layers up to get to the skin underneath.

Enticed by his sucking at her finger, Hermione slowly pushed him towards the sofa behind him, just a few feet away. She got rid of her woollen jumper, revealing a simple top barely covering her bra, just as he let himself fall on the sofa.

"So, so beautiful," he murmured after she had seated herself on his lap, his hands caressing every single scar on her freed skin; moments later, he focused on her neck and cleavage, peppering the area with an array of alternatively soft and hot, bruising kisses.

She couldn't help but make all those little sounds and moans, gasping even when he reached a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. Her hands buried in his strands, fisting them even, she started grinding her hips into his, aching to feel him.

"Fuck," he let out in a husk, sucking her earlobe in a little harder; his hot breath brushing over her ear made Hermione shiver, and she intensified the grinding. Seconds later, he managed to pull off her top and get her bra off.

She arched forward with a hungry smirk, presenting her breasts teasingly close to his mouth. She wanted his lips around her nipples by now, to fucking suck and nibble her into oblivion with his goddamn expert tongue.

She craved it.

"Mhmm... More." Moaning lowly at his tongue playing with her hardened nipple, she let her head fall back, enjoying the sensations running through her from the grinding and him paying such delicious attention to her breasts.

However, just as she was about to rip his shirt open, making short process of those annoying little buttons, they were interrupted by his house-elf, who at least had the decency of remaining at the entrance as she coughed to gain their attention.

"What is it?" Draco growled when he finally noticed her. "You know I hate to be interrupted–"

"Master is required at the door. They wouldn't tell Tilly, only said they need to deliver it in person to Master."

Just as he leaned his head back with a sigh, Hermione propped herself up, not caring about covering herself up in front of the elf. She kissed his throat before she started to climb off him. "Just go see what they want, okay? I'll wait upstairs for you, ready to continue..."

He reached for her head before she could get up and pressed a soft kiss on her lips. "Can't wait."

..

Hermione was just climbing on the bed as she heard him stomp up the stairs; the angry sound of his steps made her heart sink, and she couldn't help but sigh deeply. Just more bad news, as if his current situation wasn't already depressing enough...

"Fuck the goddamn Ministry!" Draco stormed into the bedroom, the delivered letter all balled up in his fist. With an angry growl, he threw the balled-up letter at the closest wall. "Fuck them all..."

"Draco!" Hermione immediately climbed off the bed again, worried about his state of mind. "What's the matter? What was in that letter?"

After taking a deep breath, Draco turned towards her, running his hands through his hair. "Remember Purcell? I was just informed that he has placed a claim against me 'for the Possession of Dark Objects'... You know what that means? The same fucking nightmare all over again–"

"Hey, I'm here." She Summoned the crumbled letter to have a look at it while he kept pacing up in the room, muttering angrily between frustrated groans. Reading the letter, she could only shake her head at the ridiculous accusation. "This is ludicrous! They have absolutely nothing on you–"

"Hermione, please! Purcell won't stop at anything to put me in Azkaban–"

"I won't let that happen!" She took a deep breath in order not to be overwhelmed by both his radiating anger and the creature in her head responding with the urgent desire to go after Purcell. "I'm not... I'm not going to let them take you away, okay?"

He stopped his frantic pacing, hands still running through his now tousled hair; with a defeated sigh, he turned to look at her. "Hermione, last time, the Minister had to call him off. He'll stop at nothing."

"I know," she replied with a thin smile as she put the letter on the nearest commode before reaching for him in an attempt to calm him again. "Harry hates him because he tried to bribe one of the Aurors to fabricate evidence for a case."

"What if he does that in my case?" Draco asked, letting out another defeated sigh; he gently pushed her away a few inches when she tried to embrace him, yet he eagerly held her hands. "I mean... They can—and will!—demand access to everything I own, even the Manor. What if they place false evidence?"

"They won't, Draco. It's still the job of an Auror to do those kind of searches. And you know–"

"Hermione, I-I'm scared this won't be enough."

She shook her head and gave his hands a tight squeeze, ignoring the hint of disappointment slowly spreading through her body; she wished she could just pull him out of this deep hole the letter had thrown him into. "I won't let that happen, nor will Harry and Ron. I'll talk to them tomorrow, okay?"

She reached for his cheek when he didn't respond to her words. "Hey... I'm here. And I mean what I say. I won't let that happen, and if that means I'll have to go after Purcell myself."

That made him curl his lips into a short and tired smile, even though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'd love to see that..."

"He wouldn't stand a chance." With a soft, appeasing smile, she gently tugged him towards the bed.

"I'm not in the mood anymore..."

His words made her highly aware of her own state of nudity, and she blushed in slight embarrassment, so she Summoned the one pyjama top she could see on the bed. "Sorry... But it's okay, my dragon. There are other things we could do."

"Like?" There was a teasing tone in his voice as he let her drag him further towards the bed.

Her smile widened, and she felt a small stone fall from her shoulders in relief that he let her distract him. "Oh, I don't know... Just let me treat you a bit; you don't have to do anything, my dragon."

He helped her put on the pyjama top, only to then frame her face and pull her into a short, tender kiss; there was nothing left of the previous heat in the touch of his lips, yet he seemed to crave her more now than before. "Thanks for being here, my lioness."

..

"And you are really okay with this?" Harry asked as they stood in front of the second London estate belonging to the Malfoy family, once more looking around them to make sure they were alone in the street.

"Potter, that is about the fifth time you ask, and the answer is still yes." With an irritated sigh, Draco fumbled for the note with the address of the estate.

Even Hermione couldn't help but let out a sigh at Harry's words, although she was more amused about the men and their continuous banter. "Everything's ready for the Barskys... They should be waiting for us, anyway."

"Just read the damn note so that we can relocate them. The sooner, the better." Draco held up a piece of parchment in front of Harry's face, even swaying it. "I don't even know why you wanted to come along..."

"You asked, Malfoy," Harry replied dryly as he read the address in the note. "I think you said you wanted an eyewitness..."

Hermione chuckled when she saw Draco's brief glare in response. She nudged him after taking a breath, nodding towards the house behind them. "Come on, boys. Let's get it done."

Inside, they were greeted by a nervous middle-aged woman, who immediately came up to greet them. Her tired smile didn't reach her eyes, however, she seemed eager to get moving. "Mr Malfoy... Mr Potter... and–"

Hermione saw her eyes widen in recognition before the elder woman covered it with another tired smile. "Everything ready?"

"Yes, yes! We've been waiting for you–"

"Mum, please calm down." The irritated drawl came from the two-seater behind them, where a teenage boy was sitting with his arms crossed and watching them with a bored expression.

"Anthony! Where are your manners?" Mrs Barsky bellowed at him, voice shaking from her nervousness. "Get up and greet everyone, or do you want them to think I didn't raise you properly?"

"It's okay," Hermione offered in an attempt to diffuse the situation, briefly glancing at the men who had started to exchange whispered words. "Why don't we have a little chat while my friends have a quick look through the house to make sure you haven't forgotten anything?"

"Oh, you mean, they make sure that we haven't placed any Dark Objects?" Anthony replied with a sharp tone, smirking when he saw his mother's reaction to the words.

"Mrs Barsky," Hermione said with a hopefully appeasing smile, "please do not worry; this has nothing to do with you. This is just a standard procedure, and Mr Potter has offered to help Mr Malfoy."

To Hermione's relief, Harry understood the sign and nudged Draco. "Come on, let's get it done."

And the elder woman did indeed calm down, even though she still seemed tense as she sat down in the armchair next to the two-seater, throwing a scowl at her son.

Hermione took the other armchair, just as the two men arrived on the first floor. "Now, Anthony, I heard you like dragons?"

..

About an hour later, they had finally brought everything to Hermione's old place, which was significantly smaller than the Malfoy estate, but it was more than enough.

"This... This is nice," Mrs Barsky said, returning to the living room after a first quick walk through the flat. "Thank you so much, Miss. I'm sorry that Mr Malfoy didn't come along, though."

"He was just tired," Hermione replied with a brief smile. "It's been a long day for him."

After checking the room for her son, who had already disappeared into the guest room, Mrs Barksy approached her with a guarded expression. "Please be careful. I know they are after you, and they are everywhere. Trust no one."

Hermione nodded, her lips pressed into a faint, understanding smile. "They won't get me."

"I'll pray for it."

"Thanks." Unsure of what else to say, Hermione briefly scanned the room. "Now, is there anything you still need? Otherwise, I'll have Tibby check on you regularly to make sure you're okay."

..

At the Potter house, Hermione was glad for once to be able to share her worries about the situation with her closest friends over a cup of tea. She didn't want to stay too long, as Draco and his state when he left earlier was still on her mind, but she welcomed the short breather before returning home.

So, barely half an hour later, she stepped through the Floo into his living room, letting out a deep sigh at the silence prevailing in the room. It made her heart feel heavy and her worry grow, so with slow, measured steps, she made for the stairs.

She barely made it to the corridor when a loud crack startled her. Her heart racing and taking a deep breath, she turned around, only to find Tilly looking at her with her usual solemn expression. "I really wish you'd stop doing that–"

"Master isn't here," the elf said, ignoring her remark. "Master received a letter, but Master left with it before Tilly had a chance to see it."

"What?" Hermione frowned her brows in confusion, still staring at the elf, before her worry broke through. "Where did he go? Tell me!"

"Tilly doesn't know–"

"What do you know then? Ugh!" Hermione's mind was racing now—Draco could be anywhere, for Merlin's sake. The frustration about the whole situation getting the better of her, she paced up and down the corridor.

Her head was filled with the creature's angry screeches and it's desire to take revenge on those who were hurting their mate. It was pulsing through her whole body, and it was nearly impossible to resist because yes, she wanted to protect him too.

"Master looked tired when he left," Tilly finally said, pulling Hermione from her racing thoughts. "Tilly remembers other moments when Master looked like this. Master always wants to be alone when Master is like that."

Hermione stopped her pacing and stared at the elf. "What do you mean? Alone?"

"All Tilly knows is that Master isn't here."

There was no use in arguing with the elf, as she wouldn't give any further information about Draco's possible whereabouts. Instead, Hermione turned around to return to the Floo, trying to not to let her worry take over her thoughts.

At least there weren't that many places for him to be alone.

..

Seconds later, Hermione stormed out of the fireplace at her place, not caring about any soot she might distribute in the living room. Not slowing down, she ran up the stairs to the first floor, swearing when she almost dripped over the last step in her haste.

Yet, when she arrived in front of her bedroom, she suddenly hesitated, stopping at the door. Her heart was beating hard against her chest, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts, yet she was afraid of what she might find inside.

Ever since he had received that damn official note of the accusations against him a few days ago, he had been on a further spiral down, and each of these past days, she had been afraid to see him break down from the pressure.

And all because he had dared to rescue her.

So, with a heavy, but still racing heart, she opened the door to her bedroom, only to find it dark and silent. "Draco?"

There was no response to her dismay; maybe she had been wrong about him hiding here. But then she heard a small sigh in the dark room, and her heart made a jump. She took a deep breath to calm herself before carefully stepping into the room, listening for any further breathing sounds while her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

With each step towards the bed, from where another small sigh came, she grew more tense, torn between her worries and the utterly overwhelming urge to take revenge on those who harmed him. Her whole body tingled as if she was about to change form, and she thought she could taste blood on her tongue.

The sound of him moving ever so slightly thankfully interrupted her cycle of thoughts before she would forget herself entirely. So, with a hopefully quiet but deep sigh, she took a breath and made the last step towards the bed; she just hoped that she was calm enough to meet the frantic tempest of his magic when he would try to connect with her.

As soon as she saw him on the bed, her heart sank. He hadn't even bothered to take off his clothes, only the shoes were probably lying somewhere at the foot end of the bed; he simply lay there on his side, with his back to the door.

"Draco?" she asked as softly as she could, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "What...? What's the matter?"

No response, only his breathing could be heard in the silence of the room; given his breathing pattern, she knew he was awake. For a second, she damned his urge to protect her from everything, his habit of keeping everything bottled up until it was too much. But she also damned herself for not trying to approach the situation herself after the disastrous day at the court.

However, right now, there was no use in lamenting, he needed her.

So, after taking her own shoes off, she carefully shifted her position to lying down, inches away from his back. She could hear him sigh almost in relief when she tentatively wrapped her arm around his waist, smiling when he held on tight to it.

"I'm here now."

His form relaxed against hers, as if he finally released the tension he had been holding until now while his magic sought out hers, indeed an overwhelming tempest seeking her calming presence. She had to swallow and hold her breath before she adjusted to the feel of it. This time, it felt lost, broken even.

After what felt like an eternity, he let out a deep breath, absent-mindedly stroking her forearm which she held wrapped around his waist, his fingers following every single one of her scars, but repeatedly the one that was a reminder of the war they had survived all those years ago.

His caresses and kisses once had made sure that she no longer just remembered the pain when she looked at her scars, but his love and devotion as well. Just as she had made sure that he no longer just remembered the fear and pain when he looked at his fading Dark Mark, but also her love and devotion.

"It's them, isn't it?" she asked in a quiet whisper, even though it still sounded as if it carried through the whole room. Her already aching heart broke even more when he nodded.

Then he slowly moved his arm to pull out a crumpled piece of parchment from his trouser pocket and press it into her hand.

She pressed a soft, reassuring kiss on his neck before she lifted her hand to have a look at the piece of parchment. Her heart was anxiously racing as she tried to unfold it.

Hand the Harpy back.

If you refuse, we will bring you down

and take what is rightfully ours.

There is no escaping us.

The shocked gasp escaped her before she could stop herself; her mind went blank for a whole second before it was flooded with thoughts and images from her time in the pits. It took all of her focus to push them away, using what she had discussed with Dr Pendry, yet it still hurt.

He was taking the hit to keep her safe; he'd rather see his life in complete ruins than give her back.

Her eyes teared up—out of anger that they would do this to both of them, and out of sheer gratitude that he was willing to make such a sacrifice at all. Yet, no one should ever be asked to make such a sacrifice.

"I'm sorry for everything..." Her voice came out like a cracked whisper, barely audible. She honestly didn't know how to comfort him at that moment, or make amends for what she had caused. All she could do was being there for him; so, still holding the piece of parchment in her hand, she wrapped her arm around his waist once more. She smiled sadly as he took the piece of parchment out of her hand to throw it away.

Just as he had done earlier, she now let her fingers trace along the still memorised contours of his now faded Dark Mark; only a few faint, darker spots remained on his forearm, easily missed if you didn't know about it. She gently squeezed his forearm when he reached for her hand with his other arm to cover it and hold it in place, even twining a few fingers with hers.

That was when it came to her.

The Dark Mark.

Or, rather, the magic behind it. How Voldemort had been able to Summon his followers with it.

She felt like an utter blind fool for not realising it earlier—Barsky had even told her about the tattoos and she didn't make the connection then. If only she had!

At least, from what she remembered, the Dark Mark had been rather simple in its design, especially the spells used to build the connection between each of them. She knew now what she had to do, and it gave her a sense of hope.

"Can you hold on just a little longer, a few days? For me?"

He sighed heavily and gripped her hand tighter, almost to the point that it hurt, but then he nodded to her relief.

"Thanks."

She was going to have her revenge after all...