Draco POV

I could still taste her on my tongue. There was no possible way I could forget the flavor. Not even the taste of baked apples and pumpkin pasties on Halloween dulled the taste. It lingered for days, well after Theo dragged me from her room. It drove me into a rutting mess as I fucked him with her knickers between us. They laid on his chest or clutched in our fingers in her absence every night, but not for long. Theo was right, she wanted us and I was going to make her ours. The hope was now firmly lit, it was a fire in my ribs. I caught myself smiling, joking, and laughing more than I had in years. I also caught her staring as much as Theo and I. They were hard glares and scowls, but it was better than it was before. After today, I planned to focus harder on earning more of those stares, and while I was otherwise occupied with today's activities, Theo would make his own moves.

Looking in the mirror in just my boxers, I rubbed at the scar on my chest absentmindedly, waiting for Theo to finish in the shower. I didn't feel heartless. I felt my heart more acutely with every passing moment. It wasn't just present, it ached for her attention- any kind of attention she would give. The mark meant something deeper than I expected. It meant that I was something to Granger.

"You should get dressed," Theo said, drawing my attention to him through the mirror. He had a towel around his waist and he held my quidditch gear in his hand. He tossed it on the bed when he caught me staring at my scar.

Today was the first quidditch game of the season. Slytherin had no qualms about me playing on the team despite my reputation. I hadn't been worried about it when I'd gone to tryouts. My time off a broom had only made me more competitive on the pitch, and true to Slytherin fashion all that the current captain, Astoria Greengrass, cared about was winning. Everything about quidditch felt normal and despite that I was undeserving, I still appreciated it none the less. It had been my escape from feeling for weeks, for practically my whole life. That must have been what made it feel so comforting.

Theo's smile through the mirror was breathtaking, all soft lips and bright teeth. He closed the distance between us, running his own hand over the word just as I had. "Our girl sure is a vicious little thing."

Oh, fuck, I liked it when he called her that. I smacked his hand away from my chest with a smile.

"You're one to talk," I said, pulling on my qudditch trousers. "You and those damn teeth of yours."

He'd bitten me last night as he'd thrust into me from behind. His eyes drew to the spot on my back before I covered it with my jersey.

"Well, it wasn't fair that everyone else had a mark." He paused and then laughed softly. "Hell, even Potter left a damn mark."

Potter.

He would be there today, Potter and Weasel, on the pitch. They would be at Hogwarts to open up the first game of the season as famous alumni had often done. Famous alumni that hadn't even bothered to return to Hogwarts and finish their schooling. Famous alumni who meant something more to our girl.

"Fucking Potter."

An elbow struck me in the ribs and I grunted at the impact.

"No talk of fucking Potter," he said, holding out my cape. I rolled my eyes at him. "I'll share your affection with Hermione, but if you stick your dick near the golden boy, we're done."

He grinned widely at me and when he turned to walk away, I yanked off the towel around his waist in retaliation. The surprise on his face made me laugh. It felt good, the same sort of good feeling that day in the orchestra room. He pushed me and I laughed even harder, letting that good feeling spread.

The entire school was a buzz of chaotic energy. I tried not to focus too hard on the stands as I walked onto the pitch, but I couldn't help looking at the Gryffindor seats for her face. She wasn't there. I was glad for my emotional mask because inside I was so angry she hadn't bothered to show. So angry until I noticed her not in the stands, but on the pitch. She looked annoyed, which for Granger was a pretty generic expression these days. I would be tempted to match that gaze of hers, hold it until she looked away, if it weren't for the arm on her shoulder with a sleeve pulled up to expose a sea of ginger red hair. My blood went hot. Weasel leaned in to talk to her and even from a distance I could see that spark of magic on her skin as he spoke in her ear. She looked to Harry and McGonagall. Maybe they couldn't see it, maybe it was just Theo and I that could see those golden, reddish sparks of rage. Still, how could her companions not see her annoyance and anger in the way she stood or acted? I wished I had my wand.

In the distance, I saw Astoria wave frantically to me from the side of the pitch, and with a growl, I turned entirely away from Granger and towards the rest of my team.

I stood beside my teammates as I watched Headmistress McGonagall talk to Harry animatedly. She looked giddy with anticipation. I appreciated that about the Headmistress, her excitement for the game of quidditch. Still, the majority of my focus remained on the woman to her right, sandwiched between the two now famous wizards that had survived and thrived on her talent and sacrifice. They both smiled wide, dressed in Auror robes that screamed of the accomplishments that she had earned them while she stood in usual weekend attire- thick gray coat, Gryffindor scarf. Without Granger, without my inability to out them to Lord Voldemort, they would all be dead. A memory surfaced of that night in the manor, a different one then the one that haunted me in my nightmares. It was the memory that had earned me my freedom.

My mother called me from the armchair in the drawing room and I stood, keeping my distance from Greyback as I stepped across the room. The only creature I feared more than the Dark Lord himself and Aunt Bella was the Lord's pet werewolf who had spent months next to my Aunt Bella, stalking my every movement throughout the manor. He was there to keep me in line, a threat to me and my mother and even Theo who visited regularly. He was there to strike fear and cause pain if I displeased anyone. It was all veiled under protection as if Greyback would ever protect anyone. I did a good job of barricading my thoughts, but Voldemort had dug into my mind on more than one occasion and it was better he felt my fear of this new world than my uncertainty at what outcome I now wanted. I simply wanted Theo and my mother's safety and happiness, for myself I only wanted something outside the fear of death around every corner of my own home. The end of Voldemort's war caused by his victory didn't promise any of that. The war had already become one-sided and full of death- too much death. I'd wanted blood purity for my entire life, it had been instilled in me since birth, but I hadn't realized what the cost would be until after Dumbledore's demise and now I was reaching the point where the cost was too high. I felt my mother's tension, her terror coating my skin like ice even from a distance as my father spoke to me, sounding excited.

"Well, Draco? Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

Of course it was him. He looked so much like he had when I'd kicked him in the face that night I had found him on the train sixth year. If I spoke up, if I confirmed it, it would mean the end of the war, but at what cost? It wouldn't just cost Potter's life. Months of being in Voldemort's presence had made his intentions clear. He wouldn't stop when purebloods had control. He would eradicate everyone he viewed as lesser and I was so sick of death, of the constant fear for my mother and Theo, that I answered with my heart.

"I can't-I can't be sure."

There. A vague answer that wouldn't leave me as the catalyst.

"But look at him careful, look! Come closer!"

I took another step in their direction. My father practically danced on his feet.

"Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgi-"

"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Greyback, a slight snarl to his voice, a threat that was surely aimed in my mother's direction.

The two of them spoke back and forth. My attention was on Potter, on the strange look on his face- a pleading gaze. There was nothing I could do except give stupid, vague, answers. I didn't have any power in the room. Couldn't he see that? The sound of my name from my father drew my attention again.

"Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"

"I don't know," I said, walking away towards the fireplace where my mother stood watching.

"He had better be certain, Lucius," said my mother, her eyes catching mine. Her terror was ice cold even in the heat of the fire. She turned a wand in her hand with a grim expression. "Completely sure that it is Potter before we summon the Dark Lord…they say this wand is his, but it does not resemble Ollivander's description."

I recognized it then, the wand. Vine wood, curling vines wrapped around the length of it. My mother kept speaking, but I was already searching the rest of the room.

I knew the moment that I laid eyes on her wild hair in the dark that I was staring at Granger. That curly mess of hair was unmistakable even when only visible by the slightest bit of light. Of course the mudblood would have followed Potter. I recognized Weasel there too. The whole fucking golden trio.

"What about the Mudblood?" growled Greyback and the snatchers pulled her forward into the full fire light. My entire body tensed. I hated the war, I hated Voldemort, I hated everything as I took in her face- fear and pleading desperation much like Potter's. It hurt me so much more than Potter's gaze had. It shouldn't, there was nothing I could do. Nothing more than what I'd already done.

"Wait," said mother, clinging to something that would save us as she took in Granger's face. "Yes - yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Profit! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"

Her words struck me like a physical blow to the gut. Mother was only trying to save us, so why did I feel betrayed? I forced myself to keep a straight face, pushed back every memory behind lock and key- bricks and mountains in my mind. I could feign ignorance when it came to Potter's swollen face, but with mother's words I was forced to answer honestly.

"I…maybe…yeah."

"Good afternoon students, faculty, and honored guests," McGonagall's voice ripped me out of the memory. I clutched my stomach, leaning forward to fight back the urge to vomit.

"Are you alright, Draco?" Astoria asked me, touching my shoulder. I waved her away.

"With me today on the pitch, to usher in a new season of competition, are three very important Gryffindors who I believe require no introduction."

I forced myself to stand when the stadium gave a whooping round of applause- stomping, clapping, and cheering. My eyes found her naturally, but Granger wasn't focused on the crowd. I found her eyes looking back at mine, full of something other than anger for a change. Reaching up, I touched the brand on my chest involuntarily, feeling the heat of her mark under my fingers and through my clothes to ground me. She mirrored my movement, unconsciously touching her arm.