Drip,
Drip,
Drip.
Hermione closed the valve completely with her toes. It was a game, nudging the handle just far enough to get the water flow, one drop every three seconds was the goal. Earlier she had been levitating water, transforming it into various ice sculptures above her in the tub before letting them fall back in. The heating charm returned them into their liquid state and perfect temperature. Her fingers were terribly pruned, and she was sure the steam had transformed her hair into something ghastly. Nevertheless, baths had a way of feeling less lonely. Maybe it was the weight of the water or being surrounded by warmth. The water was far too hot for Malfoy's liking, but he wasn't joining her now.
Draco had honored her wishes and stayed away from the rooms for the last three days, sending Neddy to retrieve his clothes and robes each morning and ask Hermione if she was willing to speak with him. Neddy popped into the rooms every hour or so, clearly anxious, and paranoid that one of the times she would be gone. That afternoon, Hermione asked her to tell Malfoy she wanted to speak with him, but he was away at Hogwarts until the next morning. So, Hermione focused on charming ice, and counting drops, instead of what it was at the castle that kept Draco warm.
The knock at the door was unexpected, but she didn't flinch. Hermione ignored it, the drops were falling every two seconds, so she pushed the valve closed and tried again.
"May I come in?" Draco asked after Hermione failed to acknowledge his arrival.
She pushed the valve open a fraction of an inch. "You are in."
All the bubbles were gone, the last few popped about twenty minutes prior to his arrival. For modesty's sake, she should have felt the need to cover up. But she didn't feel much of anything at that moment, and logically speaking he already had intimate knowledge of every part of her. There were still love bites on her breasts, and slight bruising on the base of her neck from when he held her a little too tightly. It didn't feel too hard at the time, but Hermione had always been one to easily bruise. She placed her own fingers over where she knew them to be and timed the seconds as the water began to drip.
Draco walked towards her and kneeled in front of the bath. She could see him staring at her through her peripherals. As her emotions tried to rise within her again, she let them escape with each exhale through her nose. There was nothing within her now that she wanted to feel.
"She means nothing to me, Hermione."
Breath out.
"I meant to tell you right when it happened."
Drip, drip, drip. Too fast. Close. Try again.
"Will you say something?"
It was odd, feeling so vacant. Knowing the words should have a profound effect but remaining indifferent. "You're the one that wanted to talk."
Draco used one finger under her chin to turn her head towards him. When their eyes met, his lips parted, and he gasped slightly. She wondered if her eyes looked that different from the Occlumency. Draco always had a distinct look when he would perform it. His eyes would look so cold. Like his soul didn't quite reach them.
He cupped her face with his hand. "Don't do that, Granger."
"Aren't you meant to be at Hogwarts tonight?" She said coldly. No bitterness, just empty.
"I didn't want to risk you changing your mind." He said, holding her to face him.
"Do you love me?" She asked bluntly, still meeting his eyes and watching as they danced around her face. His eyes were wide open: unguarded. They looked afraid, tired, maybe even a bit strained from lack of sleep.
"Yes."
He clearly wasn't using occlumency; his eyes looked honest, desperate. He probably should have been. Ever since his mother came back, he failed to maintain his composure at even the slightest inconvenience. She should be grateful for it, she gathered. If he had kept his composure, he wouldn't have pissed off Blaise enough to tell her the truth.
"I believe you." She decided, turning out of his grasp to look forward again.
"You do?" He asked carefully.
"I am still here, aren't I?" She flicked her wrist above the water and decided to make little ice sculptures again. An otter was the easiest.
Draco nodded. "I shouldn't have kept it from you. Blaise told me the moment we decided on it that you needed to know. I just-"
"Decided on what?" She cut him off, a flurry starting to form her stomach and she failed miserably to squash it. "Just fucking say it, Malfoy."
"After-" Draco choked on his words, looking down and pinching his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "It's the least I can do."
"You're going to have to be more specific." There wasn't enough time between each statement to get her emotions below the faux threshold she created in her mind.
"Astoria is a sweet girl, and a capable witch. But she has never been on her own. Daphne always looked after her." He looked up at her. "And I killed her."
"Voldemort killed her," Hermione corrected him, keeping her voice sturdy whereas Draco's waivered.
"She didn't deserve it," he contended. "She didn't care about this war, or betrothal vaults like her fucking father. It was supposed to be Cyrus. He- Daph- I-"
Through his closed eyes, she could see them rapidly moving behind the lids as Draco tucked some of the more overwhelming emotions away. "Daph always protected her sister, even after she got sorted into Hufflepuff- None of us were allowed to treat her any differently or else face the Greengrass wrath." He chuckled a little before his expression turned somber. "She asked me to help keep her safe when I was at Hogwarts."
Hermione watched as he failed to look at her again. His knuckles turned white with how tightly he held onto the rim of the tub, and she fought the impulse to reach out and touch them.
"I've not been unfaithful to you, Hermione. I swear on my mother's life. But it was only a matter of time before Cyrus came for our family again. And the only thing he wants more than defeating us, is joining us."
Hermione wasn't sure how she should feel about it. The thought of feeling anything in that moment felt like a risk, but she let herself slip, only a little, and the dread that occupied her the last few days was replaced with something less dense.
"You're courting again." Hermione surmised.
He faltered, and his arm dipped beneath the water, stopping right before touching her. "Nothing official. I just walk her to classes or attend meals and ceremonies together. Just enough so she can claim I'm pursuing her if someone tries anything."
"Is that where you are when you take your detours, with her?"
"No. Students can't leave Hogwarts." Draco shook his head. "Theo offered first, but Cyrus rejected him. It's my fault Daphne was killed. I have to do this for her."
"So, when Blaise said you were running around with Astoria…" Hermione asked tentatively, the old feelings making their presence known.
"He meant it quite literally."
Hermione leaned back against the tub and sighed. Her barriers coming down completely and the pain of the days prior finally lessened their grip on her heart. Draco reached out and pushed a curl that escaped from her bun off her face. His sleeves were wet from where he let them fall into the tub. She pulled her knees closer to her chest, suddenly feeling exposed now that she wasn't occluding to the point of being catatonic. It was pathetic, she knew it, but the warm water was hardly enough to mollify the loneliness that's plagued her since he left.
"You can come in, if you want," she said, tilting her head to look at him.
He processed her words for a moment before removing his clothes and lowering himself in the tub to sit across from her. He leaned forward slightly, wrapping his arms around his knees. Hermione scooted forward, kissing his forearm lightly before resting her chin on it to look up at him. One of his hands threaded through her hair, damp from the steam, and he rested his forehead against hers.
"You stayed," He whispered, like he was finally letting himself believe it.
"Running didn't help last time," she looked up at him as he kissed her forehead.
"Do you believe me?" Draco asked her.
She pondered his question. "I don't know. I think so."
"Then how can you let me touch you?" He said brushing the back of his fingers along her cheek.
"I suppose I forgive you anyways," Hermione spoke before she could think too critically.
"I need forgiveness for many things," Draco tilted her head up for their eyes to meet. "But not that. You're it for me, Granger."
She rested her head on his forearms again, and he kissed the top of her head before using his free hand to caress her shoulders and back. There was something still bothering her, something her intuition told her to ignore but her heart refused to keep unsaid.
"I want to be the one you walk the halls with," she confessed, with her eyes closed. "I want to join you for meals and tell people you are mine."
Hermione heard the water displace as Draco wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her and pulling closer. He paused for a moment before kissing her lips, and his hand was hot and wet where it cupped her jaw.
"For now, people can assume what they like, but I will never claim anyone but you. Not as my girlfriend, not as my betrothed. When the day comes to announce my bride, it will be you or no one." He spoke with complete sincerity. She kissed him again and the words tasted as beautiful as they sounded. "Assuming you'd say yes of course?"
"I guess you'll have to wait and see," she teased against his lips.
"Come here," he said, pulling her to him. She felt him hard against her inner thigh as she straddled his lap.
"I'm not really in the mood…" she spoke softly.
"Me either," he rushed out, and she raised both brows at him, and he fought back a grin. "Just ignore that."
She breathed a laugh, and it felt so good to feel something other than despair. But they would only have to face it again in the future if they didn't address the cause of all the hurt. Her arms and legs felt at home surrounding him, and she sighed as his soft kisses to her cheeks and nose continued to revive her.
"Draco, why didn't you just tell me?"
He kissed her temple, letting his lips rest against her. "I knew you would agree to it. Even if it hurt us."
She laughed lightly, "I'm surprised you did. Doing something for someone else with no personal gain is not something young Malfoy would do."
"It's something you would." Draco said affectionately. "If the Weasel needed you to choke down your vomit long enough to fake interest in him, you'd do it. And I'd hate it, but I'd trust you. I can't go on being a selfish prick forever."
Hermione leaned back to smile up at him. "Walking a girl to class, so brave," she teased.
"Salazar sake- see. Your little Gryffindor arse has ruined me," he reached behind her as she giggled and turned on the cold faucet. "It's bloody boiling in here."
It was shortly after Daphne was killed that Blaise insisted they take full responsibility to protect Astoria. It was only a benefit that Cyrus' greed now made it more difficult for him to attack the Malfoys. Hermione didn't doubt that Cyrus still held onto his reservations, but for now he was lying low, waiting. Countless galleons awaited him if he could hold off killing the Malfoy heir until Astoria secured them.
The manor. The halls. The rooms. What claim did Hermione have on any of them? The suite accepted her, most of the rooms in the manor did, but she was a guest that could be evicted. Their study, suite, friends. What was his that he shared, and what, if anything, did she have a claim on for her own.
Her magic. Training had pushed her abilities to a point that she never thought possible. The books may belong to the Malfoy library, but there was at least the one Draco gave her that she felt ownership of. He kept insisting that all he had was theirs, maybe that was why it felt personal when she overheard Cyrus plotting to take it. The high ceiling and marble floors that used to intimidate her now felt like home. However, if they went forward with converting the manor into Voldemort's personal prison, it would be them that was forced to leave.
The discomfort from the wards alerted her of a visitor. Goyle and Theo were on the other side looking as uncomfortable as she felt. If she forgave Draco so easily, it wouldn't be fair to hold the deception against them.
"I'm sorry, pet," Theo said first once they were inside. "You didn't deserve that."
"Malfoy did," Goyle added. "We told him it would look worse the longer he stalled."
Hermione tried to speak with reason. "I suppose if Nott can trust Blaise to be officially courting Pansy, then I should be able to trust Draco to do this."
"Except Zabini and Pansy used to regularly shag," said Goyle.
"Your jealousy is going to get the best of you one day, Goyle," Theo mocked. "Don't be too hard on Zabini- he nagged Malfoy to tell you constantly. His mother was evil. Made the most powerful blokes fall in love with her just to use them. It still affects him and well- neither of us are too keen on watching our friends being deceived…"
"Then why not say something?" Hermione asked.
"You know Malfoy, thought one of us would cock it up," Goyle explained. "None of our galleons were on Zabini to be the one to let it slip, though."
The friends seemed to fall back into their old familiarity. Chatting and taking playful jabs at one another. They were about to leave to head to the portkey site, when Goyle and Theo started to look uncomfortable again.
"Do you know who Malfoy is working with, Hermione?" Goyle asked directly. Hermione was taken aback, usually the boys aimed to con answers out of her. It was comforting in a twisted way, like she finally broke through a level of scrutiny between them.
"I don't," She answered, honestly. "But I know Draco was not the one that tagged you, Theo. And he wouldn't reveal your involvement to anyone either."
The boys look frustrated, and Hermione couldn't blame them. Knowing someone was coming after them, someone with intimate knowledge about how they operated, only left a scarce few possibilities.
"Granger, there was something else you should know," Goyle announced, speaking only to her. "Malfoy's angry now, but if he actually went through with killing is father- If Lucius were to die… he would never be the same."
Theo scowled. "We all honored our fathers at one point in time, Goyle. It's time we grow up. If Malfoy is okay with it, leveraging the Manor is the best plan we've got."
Hermione clenched her jaw. Malfoy had always idolized his father, since she met him in Diagon Alley buying her books for second year. The resentment he had was well deserved, but Draco wouldn't always be this angry.
Hermione spoke assuredly. "We'll find another way."
It had been some time since Draco entered their suite covered in blood. The blood on his hands belonged to someone else, but where it was dripping down his face was likely his own. The robes on the floor were scorched and torn, but the black material camouflaged any stains it likely contained.
"Draco…" Hermione said cautiously from outside his closet door. With the injuries always came rage, and it was radiating off him as he turned to look at her. He stormed past, still mumbling under his breath and she grabbed his arm to keep him from running off. "Are you alright?"
"It's nothing," he snarled, pulling out of her grasp. "Fucking Weasel."
"Ron?!" She moved quickly to get in front of him, putting both hands on his chest to stop him. "Is he hurt? Draco, tell me what happened!"
"What? Afraid you won't be able to run back to him the moment you're free of me?" He said pressing against her hands to crowd her. He wasn't being fair. Again. She would always be expected to receive crumbs of information and be grateful for it but Godric forbid she not confess every thought she had to him.
"What's happened to him, Malfoy?" she repeated. He didn't get to project his own dodgy behavior on her.
He inched closer. "Me or him, Granger. Choose now."
"You. You, fucking idiot. Now answer me!"
Draco crashed his lips onto hers, his hands holding her face and she could feel the cool moisture from the still wet blood. She took a step back, trying to break contact, but his hold was too tight.
"Malfoy-"
"He's fine. I helped him to the portkey," he said against her lips, and she breathed out relief before kissing him back. She fisted the material of his shirt as he kissed her desperately. His hands started pulling at her denims and shirt, un-methodically trying to remove the materials. Hermione missed his touch, but she had never felt Draco be so lost and frantic.
"Draco, I don't think we should…"
He stopped his hands but kept kissing along her jaw. "Please- I need it."
"Draco, you're scaring me," she breathed back.
"We fucked up so badly, Granger," he whispered, as they held each other. Without his anger to keep it away his fear started to overtake him. She ran her hand down his face, looking him over and he mimicked the motion. "I love you. I'm so sorry."
"I love you, too," she said back to him, and he nudged his forehead against hers. "You need to get yourself under control. I assume they are expecting you downstairs."
He nodded, and Hermione could nearly feel Draco shuffling his emotions behind the barriers in his mind. She kissed his bottom lip as he worked, helping to give him something else to focus on so everything else could be removed or forgotten. Gentle pecks pressed against her lips once he was done, and they only had a few more moments before someone would come looking for him.
"Do you have your bag?" he asked her quietly.
"It's in the bathroom cupboard."
"Get it. Gather your things." It was Hermione's turn to panic as she stepped back to look at him. "I set up the room down the hall for you, Neddy knows which one."
He turned and grabbed a clean set of death eater robes, taking a moment to scourgify himself before putting them on. "It's only a precaution. If the wards reset, you won't be able to get back in."
"The wards would only reset if you died," she said to argue a point, but once she heard it out loud she understood. "I won't let him hurt you."
"This war is bigger than me, you have to help finish it." His eyes twitched as the occlumency added layer upon layer to keep himself impartial. "Besides, if the Dark Lord is cross with me, maybe he'll take it out on my father and all our problems will be solved."
The crowd was smaller than usual. Most of Draco's unit was being seen by healers. Others were still deployed, completing their own tasks. Cyrus was present, along with Blaise and Pansy's father. The other occupants stood surrounded the table, listening as Draco gave a synopsis of their mission. The Order had been expanding their boundaries, limiting entrance from those who possessed the dark mark. It was Draco's mission to take back Glasgow before they secured their border.
The elves supplied food and tea that remained largely ignored by death eaters in the room. Voldemort was at the head of the table, Lucius to his left and Draco to his right in what used to be Bellatrix's chair. Draco remained impartial and professional as he approached the part in the debrief where the Order started to best them.
"I feared that the boy would start to rest on his laurels," Voldemort said to Lucius. "This is the first task of your son's the Order has been able to halt."
"I should have been supervising his work more closely, my lord," Lucius agreed, snarling at Draco.
"We were going into Order territory, father. It was hardly a surprise they were there," Draco retorted.
"And does it remain Order territory, or did you complete your task?" Cyrus added next.
Draco clenched his jaw. He started spinning his family ring as he spoke. "The boundary was completed, my lord."
"We nearly had them," Flint added. "We found a hole on the outskirts of the border. The Order was distracted performing their part of the charm."
"How did they get away?" Lucius asked.
"That's a question for Draco," Flint said. "We fought the guards while Draco went after Weasley."
"You lost a duel to Arthur Weasley?" Lucius tutted to Draco, scolding him like a child.
"Not him. The one from our year." Flint provoked further.
"Weasleys. Pathetic waste of wizarding blood. They're all equally worthless," Cyrus contributed.
"This one was friends with Harry Potter." Flint revealed, and Voldemort finally took interest.
"He didn't best me in a duel. He ran. Like a coward," Draco snapped.
"This isn't the first time Harry Potter's friend has escaped you, is it young Malfoy?" Voldemort snarled. "How is it they keep slipping through your fingers?"
Flint shared a look with Cyrus before continuing. "Weasley's a helpless git. No doubt the mudblood was there to aid him."
"Merlin- outwitted by a Weasley and a mudblood. How can you even show your face?" Cyrus pressed. He looked so pleased as he searched Draco's face for any reaction. Draco was starting to break, spinning his ring a little too quickly to be passive. Their rivalry with Malfoy in school was hardly a secret, but this was the first time anyone tried to use it to bait him.
"The anti-apparation wards held, my lord. The boy had a portkey. He activated it before I could subdue him." Draco said, ignoring the others and speaking to Voldemort.
Lucius interjected, trying to gain control of the conversation. The Dark Lord was never made aware of Hermione's escape, and there was no doubt that Cyrus would reveal it if given the chance. "Laziness will not be tolerated, Draco."
Draco was about to speak when Neddy appeared to top off his filled glass, providing what small distraction she could.
"Now Lucius, that is quite unfair. The young man didn't spend his life codling himself," Voldemort said. Lucius flinched at the threat. If Voldemort was set on punishing Draco, Lucius would be the obvious recipient. But he was never one to go down willingly.
"Very well, my lord. We'll start from the beginning," Lucius agreed with a nod, pulling out his wand. He flicked it in Draco's direction, and a loud crack followed the motion. "Even an heir must learn how to make his own tea."
What happened next was a blur. Maybe time moved quickly, or perhaps Hermione's memory refused to hold onto that moment for a second longer than it had to. How no one reached to help Neddy as she fell. How Draco was petrified in place, as the conversation went on around them. Cyrus complained that the punishment was not significant enough for the crime. In the past, Hermione felt the need to flee the room during an execution. The evil that filled the air after a murder was committed was thick enough to choke on. The others left the manor to go to Hogwarts, but she stayed, tucked in the corner until the other elves came to fetch her friend. Hermione stayed with her until they disappeared, so she wouldn't be left to lay on the marble floor of the drawing room alone.
Blaise arrived later in the evening. Hours prior, she was sure their next meeting would be incredibly painful. It was foolish of her; she knew what real pain was like. It was nothing to forgive Blaise and let him hold her as she sobbed. He muttered comforts to her. She couldn't make out the words, though his tone was impossibly gentle. Lovely. So much so that she nearly believed him when he repeated everything was alright. It wasn't his fault he couldn't understand, he had barely started to get to know how wonderful Neddy was.
Her eyes were hot and sore when she finally woke. She was still in the study, sleeping on the couch that used to act as her bed. Her arm was hanging off the side, and her hand was resting next to Blaise's, like he had held it until they fell asleep. He has taken a pillow and a throw blanket to make a small bed for himself on the floor.
"Alright?" Blaise said, waking up. He rose and Hermione shifted so that he could sit beside her.
"Where's Malfoy?" She asked.
Blaise cleared his throat before pulling out his pocket journal and reading a few lines. "He's still at Nott's. Goyle apparated their last night to join them as well."
"Why is he staying there?" Why wouldn't he come back home as soon as he could.
Blaise looked at her sympathetically. "He can't have you see him like this, Granger. It's undignified. Being so distraught that you father took away your elf."
Hermione jumped up and turned toward him. "Neddy wasn't just an elf! But you wouldn't understand that! None of you do. That is why Draco should be here with me!"
"It's just- it's not as uncommon as you'd think." Blaise tried to reason.
The words festered in the pit of her stomach, but she tried to reason them before speaking. "Elves, werewolves, muggles, mudbloods… Some worse than others, but none as valuable as you. Are we?"
Blaise shook his head. "That's not what I meant."
"Yes it was," Hermione spat. "Get out."
"Granger- I'm sorry!" He insisted, starting to look desperate. There was really no time in this war for holding grudges. She let go of her resentment and hugged him, knowing he probably needed a moment of vulnerability as much as she did.
"Tell Draco to come home when he's ready," she said as she pulled away. "I just need to be alone for a bit."
The footprints on the map danced around the common areas of the first floor. Draco's and the boys were absent. Blaise checked on her again in the afternoon before heading to Nott's for the evening. There were only two manor elves left. There were four when she arrived, five including Dobby. No dinner or tea appeared for her as the day came to a close. Not that she wanted to eat, but a masochistic part of her was hoping Neddy would appear to keep her company and it would all be a dream.
She was sitting in the study, watching the flames die out in the fireplace without Neddy's magic to keep it stoked. Draco walked out from the bedroom, wearing the same clothes as the day before. Hermione watched him walk over without saying a word. When he got in front of her, he said nothing, just dropped to his knees and laid his head in her lap as his arms surrounded her. Grief was hard enough on its own but feeling the weight of it on a loved one was a different pain. So, Hermione brushed his hair back, letting the soft strands untangle between her fingers. Words could come later, or never. There were many things she would ask him to explain, but this was a pain she knew all too well.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled against her legs.
Hermione shushed him, continuing to pet his hair. "Stop blaming yourself for everything, Draco."
"Shit, have you eaten? I should go get something…" he said, sitting up and looking at her.
"I can wait until morning," she replied, shaking her head.
"I'm supposed to take care of you," he stated. "How am I supposed to do this, I've never been on my own."
"You're not on your own," she whispered back. He looked up at her and she kissed him gently. When he gripped the back of her legs, she let herself be pulled into his lap.
"The others were right," he declared against her lips. "My father doesn't deserve the air he breathes."
Hermione stuttered. "Draco, we don't have to do this now…"
"I'm not losing anyone else. Greyback is expected to attend the next formal after the full moon. Once he and Voldemort are at the manor, we strike." Draco must have channeled his grief last night into deriving their next move. "The wolf still has to pay for what it did to you. And my father will pay for what he did to Neddy."
"You're upset, let's not decide anything now." She tried to reason.
"There are only so many people I care for left," Draco said, pulling her close. "No one is taking you away from me."
The next day, Draco had their breakfast delivered outside their door in the hall. With the morning to themselves, Hermione spent her time watching Draco sleep coming up with some way to lift his spirits. They ate in comfortable silence, Hermione forcing herself to eat as much as she could with the absence of appetite. It didn't help that everything was wrong. The fruit was cut in quarters, rather than cubed and mixed in a bowl like Neddy prepared it. The tea was too hot, and the pastries were pumpkin and cherry instead of apple and spice.
"I think we could use some fresh air," she said once he finished getting dressed. "Can we go out to the pitch today?"
"Sure." He said shortly. Hermione rushed to ready herself, before he could change his mind. Stopping to fetch something from her bad before they disapparated.
Once they arrived Hermione, looked up at the sky. "Looks like a lovely day to fly, doesn't it?"
"Perfect," he said, attempting a smile. "Want me to get Dory?"
"I'd prefer a broom today, actually." She said, pulling out Harry's snitch from her pocket. "It's about time I take you up on your offer."
"Where'd you get that?!" he said, reaching out his hand and she held it back out of his grasp. "Saint Potter. We're not allowed to keep those!"
"He didn't keep it. Dumbledore gave it to him." Hermione teased.
Malfoy huffed and lamely shrugged. "Of course he did."
"If you want it, you'll have to win it fairly," she chimed. "Accio broom."
A Nimbus 2001 came flying from the storage shed, and Hermione was encouraged by the remnants of a smile on his face. She released the snitch into the air, and it circled each of them before taking off towards the sky.
"Oh, Hermione darling, you haven't a chance," Draco said, holding one arm out to the side and his broom flew into his waiting hand. "Your snitch is as good as mine."
Chivalry was ever present in pureblood families, but Hermione soon found that Draco drew the line at quidditch. Whenever he would catch her off-guard searching the sky, he would fly up from beneath her, or suddenly appear right beside her.
"Lost, Granger?!" He asked upside down, flying over her. "You've got to try harder. I could have ended the game three times over by now."
The purpose of playing was to better his mood, so it was ironic how quickly her mentality changed to find the stupid golden ball and knock him down a peg or two. She flew out a little further, looking down into the forest rather than in the sky in case the snitch was hiding among the foliage. On the other side of the stream, she saw a glimmer of light in a small clearing and darted to it. As she got closer, the light was undeniable from the sun reflecting on some piece of metal and she sped up with excitement. Suddenly, Draco cut in front of her, nearly colliding and knocking her off her broom. She swerved, avoiding his blatant attempt to stop her, and kept flying, getting close and closer to the reflective light until it became clear it wasn't the snitch.
It can't be, she thought to herself, ignoring Draco's shouting in the near distance.
Once she landed in the clearing, she was sure. Draco landed with a thud behind her, and she spun towards him with a huge smile on her face.
"Draco, this is it! My tent has to be around here somewhere!" she said, starting to pace around the clearing. "See look, this is the silver knife I dropped after the first wolf attacked me."
The knife was what she saw from the sky, and she handed it to him before pulling out her wand. "I set up the protective enhancements with this wand, I wonder if it will allow me to reveal it…"
"Where did you get this?" Draco finally said, and she turned to see him examining the knife, dried blood still on its blade.
"Oh- It's yours. From your potion lab." She explained.
He looked around the clearing and back to the knife, still breathing heavily from exertion, his face withdrawn. "I know that- but how did you get it?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Good Godric. I stole it, alright. But it was for a noble cause I swear."
Hermione went back to performing her charms, trying to connect the magic from her wand to what was laced intricately within the tent. She mumbled incantations here and there, but overall, she worked in silence, the only other sound was Draco as he circled around her abandoned camp. When it finally appeared, she let out an excited laugh and turned towards him.
He clenched his jaw, looking from the tent to the clearing, to the knife, trying to put it all together. "This is where you were when you left."
"Draco don't," Hormone walked towards him, grabbing his face with both hands and realized he had severely occluded since they landed. It should have occurred to her that the area would bring up nothing but hostile feelings. The memory sent a shiver along the faint scars on her back. "I'm fine. Neddy made sure of that when she found me."
Draco winced at the mention of her name but closed his eyes before looking around the clearing again at a loss.
"Come on," she said, tugging his hand and attempting a smile. "Let me show you inside."
Draco was coming back into himself, insulting the condition of Ron and Harry's side, and insisting he would never let her travel Europe in such conditions. When she finally got to her cot, she held out her arms, slightly embarrassed that her old self didn't think to tidy the linens.
"This one was you?" He said with a raised brow. When she nodded, he shoved her lightly and she fell onto the unmade blankets. Once he climbed on top of her and his mouth met hers, she realized that her cot was in fact large enough for two.
Hermione tried to hide her grief in front of Anthony. The war was wearing on everyone, so he fit in well enough with the other members. The others however, didn't have the burden of the Order's success riding on their shoulders.
"Rotten luck about Malfoy. Heard he got off alright, though? A benefit of being the Dark Lord's favorite." Anthony said once they were in the alcove. Hermione elbowed him from within the cloak and performed the silencing charm.
"Whoops." Anthony snickered. "S'not like anyone's around."
"Are you pissed?" Hermione asked, lately she could smell the whiskey on his breath. "And Neddy's life was just as valuable as one of ours. He most certainly did not get off easy."
"Didn't think him one to care," he said. "Got anything new?"
Hermione gulped. Anthony started testing her cloak, using the hood to watch his hand disappear and reappear behind the material. "I've got the next target."
"I wonder if I cut a piece off it will still work… Oh! Who?"
"Lucius Malfoy," Hermione said, handing over the specifics of her plan. Theo and Blaise were right, enough innocent people have been punished for their fathers' choices.
Anthony paused, looking at her skeptically. "You want the Order to kill Malfoy's father?"
"The Order will capture Malfoy's father. I'll tag his robes green so they can identify him. Their meeting with the Confederation is late next week, I can swap the portkeys." Hermione rattled off factually. "Have the Order set the destination inside a building with anti-apparition wards so they can't escape."
Anthony unrolled the parchment and started reading through it. "And the other's? He won't be traveling alone."
"No one can know he survived. The plan won't work otherwise." Their eyes met, knowing her meaning. Hermione had assisted in tagging death eaters, but this would be more blood on her hands than ever before. If she didn't shoulder this burden, Draco would have to.
"All of this so the Order can force him to give Malfoy full authority of the wards?" He said when he read further down the notes where she explained, in as few words as possible, why this would be a critical step to winning the war.
"The manor is a lovely prison," Hermione said, readjusting the cloak. "Voldemort earned himself an extended stay."