Draco's hand was on her cheek, and he slowly leaned in. It was as if time was standing still, and it was just she and him alone in the world. Her eyes closed, waiting to feel his cold lips press against hers, wanting so desperately to feel a level of intimacy with him she hadn't before. Her lips were quivering and her heartbeat was racing in anticipation. Hermione was convinced that after they kissed, that it would seal their fate.

She could pretend all she wanted that he meant nothing to her. That she was just using him for comfort and would be able to easily let him go. But she knew that if their lips touched, it would make everything so much more difficult.

As much as she feared that, she desired it much more. And as Draco's lips hovered just over hers, she almost grabbed his face and pulled him in.

"Draco!" Astoria's voice called as the door to the study swung open, making Hermione jump as she was pulled from her daze. "I got that suit I found in the muggle store tailored to you. It will look great with…"

Astoria's eyes went wide when she saw Hermione and Draco sitting on the piano bench facing each other.

"I'm sorry," she quickly said, turning away. "Please continue with whatever you were doing!"

Hermione, though feeling flustered, couldn't help but laugh. When she saw her face, she felt a sense of ease. She looked healthy, her cheeks were fuller, and she seemed to be walking around without losing her breath. "Astoria, come back. I've missed you."

Draco let out a frustrated sigh but smiled quickly after, shaking his head. "Did you want to show everything you got for Granger in Paris too?"

Astoria beamed, waving her wand quickly and summoning several boxes into the study. They opened to reveal beautiful silk clothing. Many of the items seemed too extravagant for Hermione's taste, but Astoria made sure there were practical things for her in there as well. Hermione stood still as Astoria held up the articles of clothing against her. Her brow furrowed as she decided whether or not they were suitable for Hermione. She'd occasionally ask Draco for his input, but he simply leaned back against his desk and agreed with what she said.

"Astoria, this is way too much," Hermione said as she brought out the tenth dress.

"Oh hush, Hermione. This isn't anything. Plus, you need to decide what you're going to dress up as for Halloween," she replied. "Since we're having a big party here."

"We are?" Draco asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Yes, Draco. We are. And I already have our costumes picked out," she smirked at him.

Draco held his head in his hand, "Please don't tell me it's anything that requires face paint again, Tori. The Frankenstien green stained my skin for two days."

"No, you won't have to do much for this costume. We're dressing up as Dracula and his bride," she giggled hysterically until she coughed. Hermione joined in on the laughter, seeing Draco gawk in disbelief.

"Very funny, Tori," he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"I think it's adorable, Astoria," Hermione encouraged her. "A bit morbid, but cute nonetheless."

"Have to practice at some point, huh?" Astoria laughed between coughs but stopped when she realized that Hermione and Draco were not laughing along with her. "It's just a joke. I can't make a joke?"

"So full of funnies tonight," Draco said to her, unamused with Astoria's remarks. Draco turned to Hermione. "We're being called."

"This late? Doesn't Voldemort ever rest?" she asked, annoyed.

Draco tossed something in Hermione's direction, and she snatched it out of the air, holding it tight in her fist. It was warm and vibrated softly, reminding Hermione of her life outside of the manor once more. She became increasingly excited at the prospects of seeing her friends, although was disappointed her time with Astoria was cut short.

It was early October now, and she knew Ginny was due soon. She had been there when both Albus and James were born, and felt disappointed that she may miss the birth of her niece. She tried her best to suppress her anger at Draco for that, and hoped that Ginny would call upon them before she gave birth.

But that reality looked more and more dim, because Hermione had to remember that the war wasn't fair, and she would constantly be challenged to give away her comforts to end the war.

–

Draco took Hermione to the old, white house he had fitted specifically so she could meet with the Order. He spent days charming it so no muggle or wizard could stumble upon the home. It took time and many resources, but he would have paid everything he had at Gringotts to make sure Hermione was happy. Seeing her smile after she met with her friends was worth it to him, but the guilt he was starting to feel for tearing her away from them was building.

The way she held onto Ginny and the spark in her eyes when she saw Harry made him rage with jealousy. He wished she would realize that he and Astoria would treat her much better than they did. Draco could give her anything she desired, but he knew she would always want them.

"Hi Dave," the small boy who looked identical to Harry Potter called to him. It made Draco cringe, but he kept a straight face.

"Hello James, have you been keeping up with your workbooks?"

The boy nodded, opening his red backpack and pulling out a few paper booklets. He held them out towards Draco. "Can you check them for me?"

Draco looked at Harry, silently questioning what to do. Harry shrugged, "He insisted that he wanted you and Hermione to look at them. Wouldn't let me near it at all."

"Okay, James. I'll take a look after I talk to your parents, is that alright?"

He nodded and went to play with his younger brother, another Harry clone. Though he understood that Harry's prominent features were more genetically dominant, he was shocked that they didn't sport the iconic red hair of the Weasleys.

Hermione sat on the couch with her hand on Ginny's stomach. The two witches smiled and laughed together, whispering things that Draco could have eavesdropped on, but chose to respect Hermione's private time with her friend. He sat in an armchair and Harry handed him a glass of fire whiskey before sitting next to his wife.

Ginny casted a silencing charm around her two boys, making sure they wouldn't overhear their conversation.

"Your dear brother-in-law and his buddies were gone by the time I got there, thankfully. That safe house was completely raided though, so I wouldn't recommend trying to go back there. Vampires will be slowly trained and integrated into battles starting in November when the days are shorter. Make sure you plan raids during the day and have extra watch at night," Draco told them directly, not breaking his speech for anything. "Luckily, werewolves and vampire relations are still low, so you won't have to worry about lycanthropes just yet. Greyback is a shit mediator."

"That's good news," Harry replied. "We haven't had contact with George yet, but hopefully he and the others will come back soon. And Luna agreed to come see Astoria when she's sick and needs help, but I think it would be best if you weren't around when she's there."

Draco nodded, understanding the situation, and glad Astoria could finally receive proper care.

"I'm due next week, I'd like Hermione to be there when I give birth," Ginny said, interrupting their interactions. "I won't take no for an answer."

It grated on Draco how demanding she was, but he knew Hermione would want to be there. So, he would give into these demands for her.

"What does that entail?" he asked.

"She'll come with me for two days, alone."

"Alone? Not a chance," Draco spat.

"What's stopping her?" Ginny challenged him.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, "Draco, I'll come back."

He gave her a look, almost as if a father was denying their child a piece of candy from the store. "Where will this be?"

"The Burrow," Ginny said. "And you can't come because you've killed the fiancé of the woman who is helping me deliver the baby."

"She can go, but Astoria is going with her."

Harry looked at Draco, "After all these years, you really don't trust us still?"

Draco could no longer hide his annoyance. He trusted Harry, but Hermione shouldn't. It was as if they didn't realize the gravity of the situation and how important she was. They said they were her family, but practically gave her away to be killed.

"Not with her," Draco replied.

Hermione began to speak, "Draco, I'm not…"

"They've given you up once, tossed you aside like you're nothing, I'm not leaving you alone with them. You need someone there to watch out for you," he argued before she could get a word in.

Ginny stood up abruptly. "Are you fucking serious? We've cared about Hermione since we were kids, Malfoy. Just because you're fucking her now doesn't mean shit. You're the one who made the deal."

Draco smirked, enjoying the tension building in the room. "I made the deal because of how important she is to me. To end the war, you'd give her up. I would end the world just to keep her."

"She's not yours," Ginny nearly screamed at him, her eyes going red.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Why don't you tell her that then?"

"Gin, sit down please. You need to relax, for the baby," Hermione begged. "Draco, will you please just shut up?"

Draco rolled his eyes, but quieted at her request. Ginny finally sat down, but was still fuming, her heart rate was accelerated, but not dangerous enough for it to be of concern for her pregnancy. Hermione glared at him from across the room, but Draco just shrugged and took a sip of his drink. She stormed over to him, and he couldn't help but think of how fucking beautiful she looked with her eyes piercing into him and the anger that vibrated through her body.

Her fists were clenched as she approached him, and he remembered when they were young when she nearly broke his nose. He thought about how erotic it would be if she tried to do that again. If she beat her fists against his chest in anger while she rode him. He focused on her fast beating heart, wishing he could feel it against his own chest.

"Apologize to her. Now," Hermione spit through her gritted teeth.

Draco sighed. If he didn't apologize, it would be an entire ordeal, and she would be mad at him again. He had already spent several days away from her, and didn't want to be without her any longer. Giving into her requests was the only thing that would make them both happy.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you, Weasley. It's inconsiderate of me to add any unnecessary stress."

She huffed, but calmed down, mumbling a response Draco didn't care to pay attention to. He couldn't take his eyes off Hermione, who was still upset, but her shoulders began to relax and her heart slowed. Draco lifted his wand and removed the silencing charm from the two boys who were playing by the fireplace.

"You ready to go over your books, James?"

After the young boy showed his work proudly and Draco triple checked each page, the Potters left as the kids became sleepy. Draco helped Hermione wash the mugs they drank tea and whiskey from. It was late, and Draco could see the exhaustion on her face. He knew that she didn't sleep well when she was alone, only getting a few hours of tossing and turning.

He had insisted that they used magic to clean the dishes, but she said there were only a few to clean and it wouldn't take them any time at all. Since Draco had never washed anything by hand, she took time to explain each step, carefully walking him through her process.

When they were done and dry, Draco pulled her into his arms. "Are you ready to go?"

"I like it here, can we stay? Just for tonight. You and me, alone, a big house," she said, her finger trailing up his chest as she looked into his eyes.

Draco kissed the ball of her cheek, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Let me get you in bed, then I'll go check on Astoria and be right back, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered softly as he kissed her face down to her neck. He lifted her up over his shoulder and she giggled as he gently spanked her ass.

Draco brought her to the master bedroom of the home that was decorated in light pink and yellow accents. Though Draco thought it was hideous, he saw Hermione admire the small details of the room. He sat her on the bed, and she began to undress herself slowly as she looked up into his eyes. As she peeled away her clothes, Draco saw the black lace lingerie that hugged her body.

He took a sharp breath out, licking his lips. "Merlin, have you been wearing that all day?"

Hermione nodded, blushing shyly. "Yes, I have. All day. Just for you."

"Fuck," he whispered under his breath, taking in every bit of her. "You look so perfect. I'll be right back, baby. Will you wait for me?"

Hermione bit her lip and nodded, and he kissed her forehead before returning to the manor.

Draco went to Astoria's room and found Daphne reading in bed next to her. He sat at the edge of the bed, touching the back of his hand to her head to check her temperature.

She felt hot, but not alarmingly so. But still enough to where he was concerned.

"Hey Draco," she mumbled, pulling the covers up to her chin.

"I got good news, Tori. Luna Lovegood is going to come by a few times a week to see you."

"That's lovely. She's really lovely. Lovely lovely," she said sleepily.

He laughed, "Go to bed now, Tori."

"Well, tell me about your night. Did you finally kiss her yet?" she asked.

Draco groaned, regretting the fact he told Astoria that he and Hermione had yet to kiss. "No."

Though her eyes were closed, she pouted. "I'm sorry for interrupting earlier."

"Don't worry about it, Tori," he said. "I don't think it was the right time anyways."

Daphne scoffed, "Since when has that ever been a factor in you snogging someone?"

Astoria smirked before using her sing-songy voice that always grated on Daphne and Draco, as it was used mainly to taunt them. "Hermione seems to be quite the exception."

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Don't tell me you're falling in love with her, Draco."

"I'm simply just trying to enjoy whatever time I have left," he said, masking his feelings. Love? He wasn't sure. But she consumed his every thought. Haunted his mind like a spirit with lingering business. And he wanted her there.

"Just don't let it get in the way of anything," Daphne said softly, a word rarely used to describe her demeanor.

"I won't," Draco promised.

By the time he made it back to the old house, Hermione was fast asleep. She was half tucked under the covers, an open book in her hand. Her curly hair was splayed over the silk pillowcase, pointing in all directions. The subtle rise and fall of her chests with her soft breaths felt so soothing to him.

Angelic was the only way to describe how she looked in her lace underwear with the white sheet draped haphazardly over her. Godlike. Beautiful. Like artwork that should be locked away from undeserving eyes.

It took every ounce of strength to not dig into her soft flesh.

Despite the impulse to tear her apart, he laid next to the sleeping witch. There wasn't an urge to wake her, all he wanted to do was be near her. When he crawled under the sheet, Hermione latched onto him and her head buried into his chest.

"Is Astoria okay?" she asked, her voice muffled and sleepy.

"Yes, go to bed, Granger."

"I'm sorry I didn't stay awake."

"Don't ever be sorry to me. For anything."

–

Hermione woke refreshed and elated. Ginny had wanted her to be there during the birth, so much so she nearly fought a vampire for her to be there. And Draco didn't have much objection, only that she didn't go alone, which Hermione thought was a miracle. She had more freedom from him now than she ever had, which seemed ironic to say when she was wrapped tightly in his arms.

The more of herself she gave to him, the more he had loosened his hold. No longer was she held prisoner, she was there on her own accord. Of course, if she left, hell would break loose. If the Golden Girl went missing, it would sure to cause a scene. But she also had promises she had to keep.

Help Astoria. Help Draco. End the war.

The floral patterned curtains in the room were pulled closed, but Hermione could see the sunlight peeking through the cracks, casting a soft glow in the pink room. It felt strangely comforting to the point where she almost thought that Draco might have charmed the home to make her feel a sense of safety. In reality, it was likely due to the colorfulness of the house. It didn't feel dark or expertly designed. It felt like it was lived in. As if people who had genuinely loved each other spent their whole lives in these walls and the wood in the floorboards had soaked up their emotions.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked as she looked aimlessly at the shelves of trinkets that surrounded the room.

"Nothing really," she replied. "It's just so cozy here, I almost don't want to leave."

"We can always come back. You and I have some things to take care of today though."

"What do we need to do?" she asked.

He pulled her close, kissing her cheek. "Dueling practice."

"Do you really think I need to practice?" She tried to not sound offended, but she couldn't help but feel slighted that he thought she needed to after years of combat.

"We all need practice, Granger. Can never be too cautious," he assured her.

Hermione became strangely nervous, thinking that this would just be some school yard dueling. "It's just basic dueling, right? We're not going to be killing each other, are we?"

He shrugged. "I'm not certain, but knowing Dolohov, anything is possible."

"I'm not going to kill anyone, Draco," she angrily said, sighing in frustration.

"I know, baby. Doesn't mean they won't try to kill you."

Hermione and Draco were face to face in the ballroom, similar to how she and Theodore had been the day prior. She watched as he removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. His face was hard, and he looked deadly as he stood across from her with his wand drawn. It reminded her of seeing him on the battlefield and his ruthlessness.

"Do not hold back, Granger. You won't hurt me, not even in the slightest."

Hermione exaggeratedly rolled her eyes hard enough so he could see her disdain. She stood straight, and assumed a strong stance, holding her ground.

They were at each other for half an hour without relenting. Her spells barely grazed him while she felt barraged by his counters. He barely had to move a muscle to avoid her attacks and repel them, making it difficult to predict what he would do next. There was no grace in his attacks either, her arms were stinging from slicing jinxes and bruised from being knocked back to the walls and pillars in the ballroom.

"Enough, Granger," Draco said, setting his wand down.

Hermione wiped the sweat away from her brow, and felt a sting as the sweat dripped into a small cut across her cheek. She groaned in frustration, walking to a table that had a pitcher and glass of water waiting for her. In a few gulps, she drank the entire glass, feeling the cold water soothe her burning body.

"You can do better than this. I've seen you do better than this," he said, taunting her.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," she bit back.

He smirked, walking towards her, "So, I'm back to being Malfoy?"

"Don't come near me," Hermione threatened.

Draco stepped closer, ignoring her demand. "Or what, Granger?"

She held her wand up towards him, and he moved in her direction until the tip of it was pressed into his sternum. He looked down, making her feel small again, remembering how with a single touch, he could be the end of her.

"What are you going to do to me, baby?" he said as his eyes were transfixed on her lip that was trembling in anger.

There wasn't a single damn thing she could do to hurt him. No charm or hex or jinx that she cast that would be able to land. He was too fast and too resilient for her to deal with alone.

But she thought of one thing.

Hermione took her wand and touched it to her shoulder, making a gash across her clavicle as she dragged it down towards the center of her chest.

Draco grabbed her hand and squeezed her wrist until she dropped her wand. "What the fuck, Granger?"

His eyes tried to keep her gaze, but kept darting down to look at her opened wound. It gave her great pleasure to see him nearly salivating.

"Go on, you've made a fool of me. Here's a consolation prize for your dueling prowess," she sarcastically remarked.

"Fuck," he whispered angrily, wetting his lips before grabbing her braided hair at the base of her skull. He retched her head to the side as he ripped away the remnants of her shirt. His cold tongue licked the dripping blood, over her open skin, and up her neck. When he was near her ear, she heard him growl.

Hermione moaned, feeling the stinging of her wound and his cold saliva over her body, causing her body to shiver. The blood was now pouring from her, caused by the anticoagulant enzymes in his spit, making her relatively small wound appear more grotesque than it really was.

Draco's lips were over her clavicle once more, licking and sucking as she gasped out for him to keep going. His fingers slipped between her thighs and began to roughly rub her through her leggings.

The core of her body felt like it was on fire, and the only thing that could soothe her was the feeling of his icey skin. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until she gave up and ripped it off of him.

The sound of glass crashing to the floor echoed through the empty ballroom as Draco cleared off the table before lifting her up and sitting her on top of it. He tore a hole in her leggings right at the crotch, not even bothering to remove the rest of it.

"I'm going to fucking drain you," he said, pushing aside her panties and sliding the head of his cock against her clit.

Hermione gasped and dug her fingernails into his back. "Drain me, baby," she begged.

She felt him lick right at her pulse point, and simultaneously, his fangs and cock entered her body.

If feeling this sensation would send her to hell, she didn't want to touch heaven.

As if he knew exactly what she wanted, he thrusted into her as he took the first drink of her blood. He timed it perfectly, making her moan in tandem with his movements, controlling the way her body twisted and contorted under him. One of his hands held the back of her head while the other was wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly.

Her vision was blurred, and she was coming in and out of consciousness every time his hips slammed into her thighs. She stopped counting the number of times she came on his cock, all she cared about was having more.

And as she sat there, pressed against him, her head light and airy, feeling nothing but bliss, she faded into darkness.