Draco's Point of View

She steps up from the chair and makes her way towards the dining room door before stopping and turning towards me slightly, wearing a look of disdain and disappointment.
"I'm not angry because I don't understand the situation. Don't misunderstand because I do understand. I understand completely. But that doesn't mean that I'm happy with it," she says.

She turns on her heel and makes her way out of the room. I hear her shoes bang loudly against the stairs, followed quickly by the sound of the bedroom door closing. The house is silent only for a moment.

"She can be stubborn sometimes," Potter announces making his way back into the room. I run an agitated hand across the dining room table, brushing some of the dust onto the floor.

"I know," I state.

"Women are just like that sometimes, but she understands the situation. You just got to go easy on her," he adds, and I smirk at him.

"You think I'm going to take dating advice from you Potter? The guy who practically swallowed his own tongue trying to find a date to the Yule ball?" I argue smugly. He rolls his eyes in response.

"Just cause Hermione shouted at you don't pretend to know anything about me mate," he says slipping into the chair opposite me.

"Just because everyone here is as blind as a bat doesn't mean I am," I say, chuckling sardonically.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Bet Weasel doesn't know you're fucking his sister," I say, a little louder than before just to wind him up. His eyes dart to the door and he waits for a moment to see if those huddled outside have heard anything.

"How the fuck could you possibly know that?" he asks, hushed.

"It was once my job to watch and know things about people. I got good at it," I state plainly stepping up from the chair.

"Sit down, I need to talk to you," Potter says, leaning forward in an attempt to grab my arm.

"What is it, Potter? Make it quick I've got to get going," I say. The quicker I leave the quicker I'll be back and this shit with Granger can be put to rest.

"I'm going to come with you," he announces. I let my arm drop, my robe ends dragging along the ground.

"No," I say.

"I wasn't asking Malfoy. I was merely stating. You're going back to check Malfoy Manor, right?"

"So, what if I am? Do you think it's a wise idea for you and me to go anywhere together? We may as well just write into the Daily Profit and tell them where we're going," I argue. He can't actually be that stupid to think this would be a good idea. I mean he wasn't the brightest in Hogwarts, but I thought maybe he was just lazy.

"I must go back to the Manor. There's something there that I need to get," he explains.

"What you think we're just going to waltz into my house hand in hand is it? Get fucking real Potter," I argue.

"What could you possibly need at my house?" I add.

"My wand."

Hermione's Point of View.

Ginny leaves the room after about an hour and a half of talking and crying. The crying was mostly on my part. She leaves some soup on the bedside table, but I don't particularly feel like eating it. Instead, I spend a long time in the shower, washing my entire body and enjoying how much it burns my skin. I put on some of the leftover clothes from the wardrobe. It smells a little from being untouched for so long, so I cast a cleansing charm when the smell starts to bother me. I pull my hair up into a loose bun on the top of my head and listen to the sounds in the house.

It's pleasant enough, besides some distant whispers and conversations going on around the house. I haven't left the room since I left Malfoy in the dining room. I'm not too sure where he is now. Maybe he's already left. The thought weighs strong on my shoulders as I gaze out the window. The cars have slowed and pass seldom now. I see a food delivery van pull up at one of the neighbouring houses. A father and daughter answer the door. The daughter grins brightly at the pizza delivery man while the father hunts in his pocket for some change.

For a little while I watch them and think about leaving this house and just joining theirs. I wish to sit in their living room and eat their pizza with the father and daughter and talk about trivial muggle problems and pretend those are the only problems that exist. I want to watch some children's programmes on tv where everything is predictable, and I want to exist in a kingdom where nobody dies as children often do.

The steady and muffled noises of conversations around the house and the blackening sky make my eyes heavy. I shamble over towards the bed. Towards the side of the bed that has been mine since Malfoy has been here. I take heed at the door for a moment to see if I can make out his voice amongst any of the others around the house. Maybe he's talking to Remus or Harry. But for this long? It's been hours.

When I've decided that he must have already left I lock the bedroom door. Letting my hand remain on the cold key and brushing a tear away with my shoulder as it runs down my cheek. I climb into bed, watching out at the gleaming streetlight for a while before my eyes finally close and the house drifts away gently. My head is heavy against the tear-stained pillow.

When I wake up it feels like only mere minutes have passed. There's a huge blow on the door and I shoot up, holding my pounding head, unsure of what's going on. The loud bang comes against the door again but this time the hinges chime and the key comes flying out of the lock as the door swings up, whacking hard against the wall. Malfoy stands in the hallway, his frame illuminated delicately by the hallway candles. He grunts making his way inside the room. I stare at him perplexed, unable to make out his face in the low light.

He throws his robe over his chair and closes the door behind him. It creaks noisily as he tries to shut it but it's hanging slightly off its hinges now. It registers with me then that Malfoy has kicked down the door to get back into the room. I stare at him in bewilderment as he pulls his jumper over his head, discarding it on the floor. Pulling the duvet down he slips into the bed and turns away from me. The bed dips with his weight and it no longer feels as uneven as it did before.

I turn back around towards the window and lay back down against the pillow. We lay like that for a long time, and I listen to the sound of his breathing growing softer. When I think he's finally asleep the bed shifts a little and I turn over my shoulder to see him sitting up. He leans down over me and grabs my cheek in his palm, turning my face up towards his. I can just make out his silvery eyes in the light, stunning but tired. He drops his head down, his lips meeting mine as he kisses me. He holds my face in place and his lips pull me up towards him. It's deep and eager and for a second I forget that I'm even mad. He pulls away, pecking me gently before turning back over to face away.

"Goodnight," he says.

I lay back down again, a little winded and confused. But after a minute my excitement dissipates, and my annoyance returns again.

"Goodnight," I mumble.

We fall asleep.

The morning light peels my eyes open eventually. But they're still heavy and swollen from all the crying I did yesterday. In my still sleepy hazy my arm reaches over to the other side of the bed to feel it cold and empty. I sigh, pulling my arm back when it connects with something lower down on the bed. I bounce up expecting to see Malfoy but instead Ginny is sitting upright in the bed with her legs crossed. Her head springs up and I see that she's been crying.

"Ginny, what's going on?" I ask, flustered as I look around the room expecting to see someone else.

"They're gone," she sobs. They.

"Who's they? Malfoy's gone?" I expect. She shakes her head, fresh tears pouring down her face.

"They left in the middle of the night. Remus is fuming downstairs," she clarifies.

"Who?" I ask again, more insistently this time as I twist around in the bed to face her.

"Harry went with him," she says.

"Harry went with Malfoy?" I ask incredulously. He didn't say anything last night. He didn't even indicate that was something on his mind. Ginny nods.

"But why? What the hell would Harry go with Malfoy? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! It's a death wish for those two to travel together!" I exclaim.

"He went to get our wands," Ron interjects from the hallway. Ginny's head snaps around too towards him. He idles inelegantly in the hallway, looking around the room. Perhaps uneasy to enter a room I've shared briefly with Malfoy.

"What do you mean your wands? Where is your wand?" Ginny asks, irritated.

"They were taken off us when we were in Malfoy Manor. When we were brought down to the cells and then we didn't have a chance to get them when we were trying to get away," he defends.

"Why didn't you say anything? You and Harry have been wandless this whole time? You didn't tell anyone?" I ask.

"Harry told Remus and he told Remus not to tell anyone that he would find a way to get them back. He and Remus were working on some idea together, but I guess when the opportunity came up to go back to the Manor with someone who knows the place inside and out he took it," Ron says soberly.

"Why didn't you go?" Ginny asks. Ron shrugs his eyes looking around the room.

"You don't trust Malfoy," I respond for him. Ron shakes his head somewhat.

"It's not that. Well, it is that, but I trust Harry and Harry said to stay here and keep an eye on you," Ron says looking at me with the eyes of a wounded puppy.

"So, they just disappear in the night and leave you here to watch me like I'm some mental case," I argue. Ron exhales, finally coming into the room and sitting on the other end of the bed. I pull my feet up to make space for him.

"It's not like that. Someone had to stay here with you guys. Besides Mom would have had a heart attack if she thought I was voluntarily going back into Malfoy Manor," he says.

Ginny rubs her eyes again furiously. Soon my tears follow hers as I stare at his imprint on the pillow. Ron notices me looking and turns his head away to look out the window. The aching of this moment is far too much for me to worry about his emotions too. So, I merely stare into my lap to avoid hurting myself or him anymore.

"Harry took the cloak too," Ron adds after a beat.

"Well at least Harry wasn't entirely braindead when he was making this decision," Ginny says sighing pensively. She moves back up the bed, laying her head back against the pillow, taking away the shape Malfoy had left in it.

Maybe it's just in my head or my emotions speaking aloud in my head but it's hard to place his aroma in the room anymore. Maybe I've just grown too used to it. But I don't smell it here or feel it lift off the duvet when I move it.

"Mom made some breakfast. Do you want me to bring you guys up a plate?" Ron asks uneasily.

"Sure," Ginny answers. I don't believe she's hungry either and that it's more of an excuse for Ron to leave the room he's so clearly uneasy in. He moves away from the bed keenly and takes the stairs two at a time down.

Grimmauld Place feels cold and weary and hollow. Even with the sound of people waking up around the four different floors. People stirring and moving, their lives perhaps unchanged this morning. I turn my head towards Ginny and she's crying softly against the pillow.

"What did he say last night? I heard a loud bang in the room, and I wasn't sure whether to come and check on you guys. Did ye have a fight about it?" Ginny inquires.

"No," I sigh, grasping my hands together. "I locked the door because he didn't show up after you left and I don't know. In my head, I guess I thought he had already left so I was annoyed, and I locked the bedroom door. He kicked it down."

"He kicked down the door?" Ginny laughs, her nose snorting a little. I smile at her.

"Yeah, he just kicked down the door and got into bed," I explain.

"Didn't he say anything?" she pushes.

"He kissed me after a while of laying in silence and then he just said goodnight and that was it," I state.

"Men are literally the worst," Ginny scoffs and I chuckle a little. Imagining we are having that muggle conversation I wanted last night. How I wish we could pretend that Harry and Malfoy were just two random muggle men, and our problems were as minor as some miscommunication.

"They really are."

Ginny turns towards me, laying her hand over mine.

"What worries you the most? That he's going back to the Manor or that he didn't say goodbye?" She asks abruptly. I ponder her question for a moment and see how much each of those answers affects me.

"Neither," I admit. "I'm angry, don't get me wrong. But it's not my biggest concern because I would have gone too if it had been Harry or Ron who had been taken regardless of where I had to go. You know that." She nods in reply.

"So, what is it that worries you the most?" she asks. Her hand gripping mine gently.

"That there's a very real possibility that he won't come back," I admit.

"As much as Harry doesn't like Malfoy, he would never let anything happen to him. You're his best friend and he knows-albeit rather unwillingly- how much Malfoy means to you."

"No, I get that, and I believe that's the case but that doesn't worry me as much as the alternative," I speak. Ginny's brows wrinkled together in uncertainty. She sits up a little.

"Alternative? What do you mean?"

"What if he chooses to stay," I say.

We sit still for a moment, that idea remaining in the air around us. A couple of Aurors in search of breakfast shuffle past the ajar door ignorant of us in their morning haze.

"Impossible," Ginny finally answers. I laugh a little at her conviction.

"I mean, is it? Impossible? He chose to leave before," I say, wiping at the fresh tears brimming on my eyelash.

"And you only have to look at him to know he regrets that choice," she answers.

"What if he's scared and he just wants to go back and that's why he didn't say goodbye to me because he thought a clean break would be easier," I ramble.

"Okay, now you're just spiralling Hermione." Ginny sniggers squeezing my hand reassuringly.

"He gave up so much Ginny. His family and his friends to come here and be in this place and I can tell he hates it here and he's so uncomfortable here," I admit some of the worries that have been festering inside me. Ginny smirks.

"I wish I could have your conviction, Ginny. You seem so sure," I complain.

"I guess it's because I can see it from the outside. My feelings aren't tied up so tightly in it as yours are. I can see both of you at once and how you guys act. And for the record, he doesn't hate it here. Most of that is just an act. He's had walls up his entire life for other people. Hiding behind that asshole front. But he doesn't hate it here," she says convincingly.

"How can you be so sure?" I ask.

"Because you're here, Hermione," she says, smiling at me softly.

Ron comes back into the room awkwardly carrying three full plates of breakfast and levitating three glasses of apple juice behind him.

"Mom is worried in the kitchen, and you know how she gets when she's worried about anything," Ron explains bashfully.

"Ahh, so I guess she's already started cooking lunch and dinner then?" Ginny asks taking the plate from him and setting mine on my crossed legs. The plate is piled high with a full English breakfast. Rashers, sausages, pudding, and everything I haven't eaten since Ron, Harry and I were on the road. Ron grins across at Ginny.

"It's funny that you think that's all the food we're expected to eat today. My dear sister, you're forgetting about brunch and afternoon tea and desserts and after-dinner snack and late-night snacks. Both ovens are going downstairs the windows have fogged up from the steam," Ron laughs and Ginny joins him, spilling some of her beans onto the duvet.

"Oh fuck," she says scooping them back up with her finger. "Sorry Hermione," she laughs again. Her tone light and her tears finally dry.

We settle in to eat by the window. All three of us watching the muggles in their windows going about their morning routine. Completely oblivious that two witches and a wizard watch them. Ron pushes his empty plate away, the cutlery clanking loudly.

"They'll be back before we know it," Ginny says, cutting the easy silence we've sat in for more than fifteen minutes.

"Couple days and they'll be back here," Ron agrees rubbing his bloated stomach and shutting his eyes for what looks like a mid-morning nap.

"Let's just not talk about it until then, okay?" I suggest.

"Agreed. We'll sort it all out when they're back in a few days," Ginny says putting out her pinkie finger for a promise. I clasp mine around hers and she laughs leaning back on the chair and letting her eyes fall shut.

We'll figure it out in a few days when the boys are back and anything that needs to be said can be said then. No reason to worry nonstop for the next couple of days. It'll be easier to just put off the worry and focus on spending time with Ginny and Ron in a place where we all feel safe. Not out on the road not knowing where our next meal or bed may be. A little holiday for a few days and then worry about it later. I smile, shutting my eyes too.

I hear Ron snoring first but I'm already falling before it can irritate me.

Three weeks later.

After four days Ginny started sleeping in the room with me. Although neither of us slept very much. Sometimes sitting awake in silence beside one another. Sometimes Ron slept in the room too. Sprawled out on the floor or on one of the armchairs near the window. Other times he would stay away all night while we slept, watching the front driveway for any sign of them coming back.

Molly had an order in with Tim's grocery about a block away, so the fridge was constantly stocked, and she stayed cooking for those three weeks. It caused some issues no one was able to approach her with. Most notable was the bill that she was running up with the constant baking and cooking. Some of the Aurors left because they couldn't stand the smell in the kitchen on the days when she got the notion to bottle up homemade chutney. It smelt like boiled vinegar and even the house elves stayed out of sight on those days.

Later that night Ron made his way back into the room for the hundredth time today with a fresh plate of food.

"Ronald Weasley if you come near me with another plate of food I'm just going to vomit everywhere," Ginny admits.

"It's a slice of chocolate cake with chocolate flakes on top. Mom said it's you're favourite," he says, dropping a plate down in front of Ginny and me. I stare at it, picking up the fork and making some designs in the chocolate sauce Molly sprayed around the plate. I lick the spoon and stare towards the window again.

"Is Remus back?" I ask, knowing he's not back from the ministry yet. He had sent out a tracker about a week in and was still waiting to hear word back from them. Supposedly they had gone to the Manor to check any recent apparating ports near there. But that was about five days ago. Maybe they had just taken Remus's money and disappeared themselves. A topic he and I frequently argued about.

"Not yet," Ron answers.

"He should have let me go myself," I say resentfully. Remus and I haven't been particularly chummy after a week past. Things got more and more heated when he started dictating what we could and couldn't do with regard to finding Malfoy and Harry. He said any move we make might draw attention to us and that he trusted Harry. His stance started to weaken as more time passed of course. We spent a lot of time sitting silently in the dining room listening to the fire crackle and the grandfather clock chime the empty hours away. Anxious and unsure of what to do.

"You know that's not our best idea," Ron says, rubbing at his weary eyes.

"And what do you suggest?" I argue back.

"Don't fight you two. I'm tired," Ginny says, her voice muffled against the pillow.

"I'm going for a shower," I say. I give Ron's shoulder a light squeeze as I pass. I'm not angry at him. I know that. I'm just angry at everything else. He knows that too. We've all been quick to bark these last few weeks. Taking our anger out on one another. Regrettably, it reminds me too much of our time on the road and the fear that was ever present back then has crept into our lives again.

Against the heat of the shower and the therapeutic thumping of the water hitting the tiles, I hear Ginny and Ron talking quietly outside and I'm far past caring whether it's about me or not. I'm just too tired to care about anything right now.

"Another week Ron and we'll have to consider that this isn't a search and rescue but a search and recovery," Ginny's voice breaks out over the sound of the shower. I plug my ears with my fingers and let my head hang under the water so all I can hear is the drumming of the water against my skull. I don't pull away even when it starts to hurt.

She's not wrong. Soon Harry and Malfoy will have to be labelled in our book as MIA. Missing in Action. It's customary to keep tabs on those who aren't heard of for over a month. People disappear all the time during war. Some who are listed as MIA really just left the country to get away from it all. The tears come instantly then and drain away whatever energy I had left. I turn off the shower and step out into the cold bathroom. It's silent in the room so I imagine Ron has left to go back to his own room.

When I leave the bathroom, the light is off but I know Ginny isn't asleep. She breathes too quickly to have fallen asleep.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"No, you?"

"No," I answer simply.

We dose on and off. Awoken by the smallest of sounds outside, hopeful that it might mean their return. Perhaps the entire house sleeps like this. Just as we do. Wondering when they might return.

There's a louder bang then. Much more noticeable than the sound of a car taking off in the middle of the night. It's followed by another thump upstairs. Ginny springs up in the bed.

"What was that?" I say, jumping out of bed to check out the window. I can't quite see the doorway from this angle.

"Was the first bang from upstairs too? Or was it downstairs?" Ginny asks running over to the window beside me.

"I don't know. I woke more for the second thump than the first. Go and get Ron," I say pointing upstairs.

"And Remus," I add.

"I hate barging into Remus's room. He sleeps naked," Ginny argues.

"Ginny now!" I shout and she moves. Ginny takes off scurrying out the door in oversized pyjamas she found in one of the wardrobes.

I take off after her and pause at the stairwell, hearing a shuffle downstairs. I turn and move down the stairs instead of up towards Ron's room. My socks slip and slide on the wooden stairs, jumping and missing several steps before I make it to the bottom. Very aware that there are going to be bruises all over my legs. But I have a feeling in the pit of my stomach that the first sound might have been of someone apparating.

There's no one in the hallway except the glow of the streetlights flickering in through the stained-glass window above the door. I hear Ginny trying to wake Ron upstairs as I pull open the door. It's heavy and moves sluggishly, scrapping against the floor as I pull.

And he's just standing there as if a ghost in the night.

"Harry," I say my voice barely audible as I throw my arms around him.

"Hermione, you scared me," he says chuckling slightly. I squeeze him as tightly as I can manage. He smells of earth and sweat but his arms feel like family wrapped around my back.

"But where's...?" I open my eyes then and see him standing behind Harry, smirking slightly at me. His eyes are just as beautiful but still tired. My arms fall from around Harry as he makes his way inside towards the sound of the others gathering at the bottom of the stairs.

"Granger," he says, and I had almost forgotten how deep his voice was. I reach up towards his face and my hand hesitates.

"You bastard," I say, clenching my fists together. His smirk breaks into a more noticeable smile.

"I always did enjoy making you mad," he admits conceitedly. A car passes somewhere in the distance and the wind blows his hair across his eyes.

"Fuck you," I say trying to keep my voice even. The tears are on their way. I can feel the heat starting up behind my eyes.

"How dare you do that to me," I cry, my voice breaking. My throat spasms and closes.

He moves towards me then, his warm arms wrapping around my waist and holding the back of my head close to his chest. He drops his head down and buries his head into my hair, his lips stopping just around my ear.

"Fuck I missed your smell," he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear hotly. He inhales deeply and presses me closer to him. I cry almost uncontrollably into his chest.

"Sssh, I'm right here. I'm back," he coos in my ear as I hear more voices in the hallway inside start to gather.

"How could you just leave like that," I cry, the words barely understandable.

"Be angry with me later okay," he says and lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his waist like I'm a child.

"I'm angry now," I argue.

"Later, okay?" he asks. I hold onto him tighter, and I feel his beard rub against the side of my cheek, thicker and longer since I last saw him.

He carries me through the hallway of people gathered around but I don't see any of them. I keep my eyes shut only aware that we're passing them when the conversation draws silent. I can't imagine what it must look like. Anyone who had questions about what kind of relationship we had has surely gotten their answer now.

The bedroom door shuts loudly behind us, and he stops just standing there holding me up in his arms.

"I thought maybe you wouldn't come back," I admit, wiping my nose on his shoulder. He pulls my face back, holding it in his hand.

"You thought I would choose to stay away? Like before?" he asks, immediately knowing the concern I meant. I nod. His nose brushes with mine.

"Silly girl," he answers, his breath brushing against my lips. I brush my lips lightly against his and just that mere connection sparks three weeks of pinning inside me. He captures my mouth in his and devours me until I'm shaking and breathless. He drops me softly on the bed, crawling on top of me. He stares down at me with a solemn look.

"You know how much I regret that decision to leave before Granger. Why would you ever think I'd make that same mistake again?" he asks, holding my face in place as I try to turn my teary face away.

"Because it's so difficult for you here and I know you're not happy here. I wasn't sure you'd want to make the choice to come back here," I admit sheepishly, his eyes fiercely holding mine. His brows soften.

"You're here Granger. I've told you before this was never a choice for me."