After lunch, Hermione and Draco returned to the meeting room, much to Draco's chagrin. Hermione merely glared at him. "I'm still in charge of the Order, you know," she reminded him.
Draco sighed, kissing the top of her head. "Yes," he agreed, following her down the hall. "How could I possibly forget?"
When they entered the room, they found Harry still sitting at the desk, looking slightly tense. Theo was already sitting in a chair, looking even more nervous. She was not surprised at Ron's absence. As Hermione closed the door behind them, Harry's eyes snapped to hers questioningly. She blinked before taking a seat beside him, just as Draco took a seat beside Theo.
Harry cleared his throat. "We're just waiting on Gin—Ginny, then," he announced, instantly correcting his use of Ginny's nickname.
Ginny. He was nervous to see Ginny, Hermione immediately realized. She looked towards Draco, who was studying Harry with narrowed eyes. He had picked up on it then, too, it seemed.
Draco then met her eyes. The corner of his lip quirked briefly. He watched her for several minutes as the rest of the room sat in absolute silence. Finally, the door swung open once more and Ginny walked through, her expression serious. She did not look at Hermione or Harry as she took a seat.
Immediately, Harry stood and took a deep breath. "The mission tonight is simple. You will all apparate just outside the boundary of the wards of Malfoy Manor. That bit—I leave up to Malfoy."
Hermione watched as Draco nodded, his expression serious. "Theo can help me. He knows the estate."
Harry nodded back. "Ginny will be on your left, Nott on your right, and I'll be in the rear. I'll be concealed, but I will behind you the entire time."
Straightforward. Simple.
"Tonight is not a night where we risk anything. The mission is simple—Malfoy will try to penetrate the wards. Either he will succeed, or he will not. No matter the outcome, we will retreat and return here to the safe house."
Even Hermione had to admit that the mission did appear to be relatively straightforward and simple.
Either Draco he would be granted access to Malfoy Manor, or he would not be. It was a simple test that would only take minutes to complete. And then, test concluded, the team would promptly return to the safe house.
This eased Hermione's fears somewhat.
It also helped that Draco appeared completely confident in the plan. She looked back at Draco, who was staring at Harry with raised brows. "You know I could do this by myself, Potter," he finally said.
Harry nodded. "I'm aware. But that's not Order policy."
Draco sighed and crossed his arms, leaning back against his chair. "Fine," he replied shortly. "Tonight, then?"
Harry nodded again. "Yes," said. "We leave here around midnight."
"Great," Draco replied, sounding bored. "We definitely needed a meeting for this."
Harry's own eyes narrowed.
Hermione shook her head. "Draco," she said quietly.
Draco exhaled heavily and bit his lip. He leaned forward in his chair.
"You know this is war, Malfoy," Harry said after a moment. "This is serious."
Draco laughed bitterly. "I'm well aware, Potter," he replied. "I'm probably more aware than most. This is why you lost in the first place—you sit and plan everything to death. You make poor choices, and you speak in riddles. That was the same mistake that Dumbledore made, you know."
"Draco," Hermione repeated, even though she didn't entirely disagree with him.
"You're risking the lives of three people just so I can test the wards on my own home?" Draco continued, his brows raised.
Harry's jaw tensed and his nostrils flared. "No," he replied tersely. "I'm doing this to keep your disagreeable arse from getting killed. This is for your own protection, Malfoy."
Draco leaned back against the chair once more, his own nostrils flared. He stayed quiet. His gaze shot to Hermione.
"Do we have a plan or not, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his tone exasperated.
"We have a plan," Draco replied coldly.
"Good," Harry said. "To be clear, Ginny to the right, Nott to the right. I'll be following. Wands out at all times."
Draco was still staring at her. Hermione nodded at him. In turn, Draco nodded towards Harry. "We're clear, Potter," he said.
"Clear," replied Ginny and Theo in unison.
"Why is he such a wanker?" Harry murmured to Hermione, just as everyone began to stand. Draco was just barely out of earshot.
Hermione sighed and shook her head. "He's defensive, I know," she replied quietly.
"Is he going to make this very simple mission difficult?" Harry asked.
"No," Hermione replied immediately. "I'll talk to him."
"Please," Harry said, sighing in relief and standing.
Hermione also stood, heading towards Draco. She glared at him even as she took his hand. He merely raised his eyebrows at her.
She led him back to their bedroom, promptly slamming the door behind them. "What?" he asked, raising his hands in front of himself.
"Why are you being difficult?" Hermione asked sternly.
"I'm not—" Draco began.
"You are," Hermione interrupted. "You're being argumentative for no reason."
"I'm—"
"You are," Hermione said firmly.
Immediately, Draco closed his mouth. "I don't need these people," he said quietly. "I'm used to doing this on my own."
Hermione stared up at him, realizing once again just how long he had been on his own. "I know," she replied softly. "But you aren't alone anymore, remember?"
"That's with you," he said, shaking his head. "Not them."
"I'm part of them," Hermione replied gently. "They're just trying to help you."
"I don't want their fucking help—"
She took his other hand, twining their fingers together and squeezing gently. "Take the help," she said. "We need help to beat Him."
Draco stared down at her before nodding. "Okay," he relented.
"You know that if you're stubborn I'll just end up going with you," she teased.
His gaze darkened. "You will not."
"Then behave," she said, squeezing his fingers.
"I will," he promised, kissing her.
"Good," Hermione replied.
As he pulled away from her, his expression turned serious, and Hermione could tell he was thinking about something. She let him go, and he took several steps towards the desk where Hermione's purple bag was resting. He pulled several books from the bag before his fingers lingered on one. He immediately pulled the chair away from the desk and opened the book. He reached for a piece of parchment and began to scribble.
Hermione watched him for several minutes, loving him. Eventually, she went to him, wanting to know what he was so focused on. She peered over his shoulder and wasn't surprised when she found him writing down information about wards. Not wanting to disturb him, she kissed his cheek and grabbed a book from the stack and laid down on the bed, opening the book.
Hermione spent the entire day reading on and off. She'd read a few pages before her eyes inadvertently darted to Draco, who was still engrossed in his book and still furiously scribbling at his parchment.
She couldn't help her grin. She had been made fun of her entire life for being a swot. How fitting was it that her eventual partner would also secretly be a swot?
Partner, her brain focused on.
Yes, partner.
That's why boyfriend had never sounded right to her. Draco was more than that. He was her partner. He was forever.
He felt like forever, because he was forever.
He was it.
He was her soulmate.
Hermione stared at him, watching as he scribbled furiously at the parchment, his brows deeply furrowed. "Draco?" she asked quietly.
"Yes?" he replied, not looking away from the parchment.
"I love you," Hermione said.
Draco looked away from the parchment, his eyes softening. "I love you, too," he replied. His brow furrowed further. "What's wrong?"
Hermione shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "I was just thinking."
"When are you not?" he asked, his lip quirking.
Hermione did not reply, knowing she had no response. She looked away from him.
Draco sighed and rose from the desk. He walked towards the bed and sat down next to her, resting his chin on her shoulder. "You're worried," he said. It was not a question.
"Of course I'm worried," Hermione replied quietly.
"Potter is making a much bigger deal out of this than it needs to be," Draco began. "You were there, Hermione. You know the plan. It's just a test. Nothing dangerous. We'll be back within minutes."
She knew it was simple. She knew it wasn't dangerous. But there was something worrying her, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Of course she was worried about Draco's safety—she always was. But there was something else. "I know," she replied.
"So why are you worried?" he asked.
"I love you," Hermione replied. "I'm always worried about you."
It was the truth.
"I'm going to be okay," Draco said reassuringly.
"I know," Hermione replied.
"Hey," he said quietly, taking her face in his hands and peering into her eyes. He grinned. "I'm just going to go check the wards. I have a whole ridiculous team to keep me safe. I'll go—I'll check, then I'm going to come back to this room, where will curl up in this ridiculously small bed and I will inevitably attempt to get into your knickers."
Hermione couldn't help but grin at his words. "Promise?" she asked.
"The coming back part or the stuff about the knickers?"
Hermione's grin only grew. "Yes—Both. All of it," she replied.
Draco kissed her forehead. "Then that's what will happen," he said firmly.
Hermione nodded against his lips, her eyes traveling back to the desk where Draco's book and parchment laid, abandoned. "Go," she said after a moment, nodding towards the desk. "I know you're preparing."
"You're all right?" Draco asked, not immediately moving.
She nodded again. "I'm all right," Hermione replied.
With another kiss to the top of her head, Draco returned to the desk. Somewhat reassured, Hermione left him to work and returned to her own book.
The day passed slowly, and the words of Hermione's book swam in front of her eyes. Every few minutes, Hermione's gaze would drift towards Draco, who spent the entirety of the day with his nose in a book, scribbling furiously at the same piece of parchment. Eventually, he ran out of the room and had to fish a for a fresh piece in Hermione's bag. Finding one, he immediately went back to writing. When he ran out room on that one, he fished for another. Eventually he had an entire stack of parchment.
Hermione read through an entire book before the sun started to fade. She had no idea what the book had even been about, and she certainly retained none of the information. One book finished, she reached for another, leaving Draco alone to work.
As slowly as the day had passed, night settled around the safe house at a seemingly record pace. Before Hermione realized that it had grown late, Draco was rising from the desk with a focused expression on his face. She watched as he cleaned his robes with the tip of his wand, wincing internally again as she realized he was still in the same clothes he had arrived in. "Is it time already?" Hermione asked.
"Very nearly," he said firmly, still focused on cleaning his robes.
Once again, Hermione realized she was staring at Draco the Spy, who was very different from her Draco. She watched as Draco pulled his Death Eater from the inside of his robes and felt herself grow cold. When she looked back up, Draco's attention had returned to her. "You still have that?" she asked, gesturing towards the mask.
He nodded. "Yes," he replied. "It's a disguise for tonight, just in case."
Hermione returned his nod, knowing that it was a good idea. "Okay," she agreed.
Draco must have seen the expression on her face, because he instantly frowned and kneeled before her next to the bed. He rested his palms on her knees. "Hey," he said softly. "Remember what I said?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes," she replied.
He took her hand in his, pressing comforting circles into her skin. "You said once that you believed in me. Is that still true?" Draco asked.
"Yes!" Hermione replied insistently. "Of course it's still true, Draco."
Of course it was still true. She would always believe in him.
Draco nodded as if he had expected her response. "Then believe in me tonight, please," he said softly. "I need you to believe in me."
With her free hand, she stroked his cheek. Immediately, he leaned into her touch. "I believe in you," Hermione repeated. "I will always believe in you."
He kissed her palm. "Good," Draco said, standing and pulling her into his arms for a moment before releasing her. "Come on, let's go downstairs. I want to get this over with."
Still holding his hand, Hermione led him down the hall and into the living room. She wasn't surprised to find Harry, Ginny, and Theo already there and waiting. Harry and Ginny were refusing to look at each other. On the couch, there was George, watching the telly at a low volume, a glass predictably in his hand. She could smell the alcohol from where she was standing.
As soon his eyes landed on Draco, Harry pushed himself away from where he was leaning against the wall, his expression serious. "Ready to do this?" he asked.
Theo and Ginny also moved, coming closer to Harry. Draco gently squeezed Hermione's hand, before dropping it. "Ready," Draco agreed calmly. "I'll apparate with Weasley. Theo, you take Potter."
Theo nodded briefly, offering his wrist to Harry. Harry immediately took it, and they were gone with a crack!
Hermione looked back towards Draco. He was still staring at her. After a moment, he gestured for her. Immediately, Hermione went to him. He briefly wrapped an arm around her and dropped a kiss to the top of her head before releasing her again. Hermione took several steps back, watching as Draco offered his arm to Ginny. Ginny promptly took Draco's wrist it before they also disappeared.
She sighed and looked away from the spot where Draco and Ginny had just been standing. Her eyes immediately landed on George, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows. Hermione scowled and made her way to George, flopping down next to him on the coach. "Gimme that," she muttered, reaching the glass in his hands.
George didn't reply, merely relinquishing the glass to Hermione.
Grimacing, Hermione took two large gulps from the glass before handing it back to George, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "What are you even doing down here, by the way?" she asked. "Shouldn't you be in bed like everyone else?"
George gave her a skeptical look. "Hermione, it's barely midnight. I've got hours before my bedtime."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "So what, you just sit down here, drink, and watch the telly?"
George merely shrugged. "They stuck me in a closet just like they did you," he said after a moment. "The telly keeps me company."
Of course. George was lonely. From the very beginning of his existence, he had shared his space with another—with Fred. They had shared their looks, their deviousness, and they had been so alike that sometimes they had even seemed to share a brain. But Fred was dead now, and with the loss of that connection to his twin, it also seemed George had lost the connection to himself.
He was lonely, and he spent his days drinking for reasons Hermione couldn't possibly begin to understand.
George, too, was not the way she remembered him, Hermione suddenly realized. He was still George, of course, but the light and the spirit that had been quintessentially him had faded with the death of Fred.
And, of course, they had shoved him away in a closet. That had to make it even worse.
Why did everyone in the Order seem so lonely? Hermione wondered.
Everyone she had encountered so far seemed to be alone: Harry, Ginny, Ron, Lavender, George. They were always alone. Harry and Ron didn't even seem to be that close anymore, either. All Ron did was play chess, and Harry had been lost entirely before Hermione had shown up.
No wonder her relationship with Draco made everyone so uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry, George," Hermione said quietly, feeling guilty that she hadn't even thought about Fred. She'd never had time to, truthfully. She had known that he had died—she had seen George crying over his body in the Great Hall. But that was all it had been—a flash of devastation when everything was devastating, and she had barely had a chance for it to register in her mind.
George shrugged again, taking another sip from his glass. "It is what it is," he replied simply, although Hermione did not miss the sad glint in his eyes. He passed the glass back to Hermione, offering her a sip.
Hermione gave him a questioning glance.
He grinned at her. "Just take another swig, Hermione. All you've done since you've sat down is fidget. You're jittery—this will help calm your nerves," George replied.
Hermione looked down at her fingers in her lap, where they were twisted around each other. She had begun to pick at her fingernails without even realizing it. With a sigh, she untwisted her fingers and took the glass from George, taking a large sip. She grimaced as the alcohol hit her tongue again, forcing herself to swallow it.
"This is terrible, by the way," Hermione said, handing the glass back to George once more.
"It gets the job done," he replied, grinning at her. After a moment, his expression softened, and Hermione suddenly realized just how much he looked like Ron. "He'll be fine you know," George said. "All of them will be. The plan is very simple. Harry and Gin have done far more dangerous missions. I'm sure he has, too."
"That's what he told me, too," she replied, sighing. She paused for a moment, then stared at George, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean the plan is simple?" Hermione asked. "You weren't in the meeting."
George's grin morphed into a mischievous smile, one that she recognized all too well. He shifted on the couch, reaching for the back pocket of his denims, from which he pulled a pair of Extendable Ears and offered them to Hermione.
"George, you didn't!" Hermione exclaimed, snatching the ears from his hand.
"C'mon, Hermione," George replied, still smiling. "I might be a depressing drunk these days, but I'm still George Weasley."
Hermione smiled back him, stuffing the ears into the pocket of her jumper. The fact that he was still George comforted her. "Be that as it may," she began, "I am still confiscating these."
George merely grinned back. "You know that I have more."
Hermione looked away from him. "I know nothing of the sort, George Weasley," she sniffed.
Still smiling, George settled back against the couch and returned his attention to the telly. Hermione attempted to do the same and found that George had been right—her nerves were slightly more settled, and she felt a bit more relaxed. They were there, still simmering just below the surface, but at least she had stopped tearing at her fingernails.
Ultimately, it did not take very long, as she had known it wouldn't. It couldn't have been more than half an hour before Harry and Theo reappeared with another crack. At first glance, they appeared unharmed. Hermione met Harry's eyes but could not read the expression on his face.
There was another crack as Draco returned with Ginny. Hermione was instantly filled with relief as he also appeared uninjured, but as she found his eyes, her stomach dropped sharply. His eyes were dark and cold. He was Occluding, which meant that something was wrong.
She could feel it. She just didn't know what.
Draco dropped Ginny's arm and immediately headed for the stairs, almost as if he hadn't even seen Hermione. She stood from the couch quickly, following him.
She found him in the bedroom, shuffling through the stack of parchment he had spent the entire day accumulating. He was still Occluded, and his movements were jerky and frantic. He appeared to be searching for something. Hermione gently touched his arm. "Draco," she said quietly.
He flinched but turned to her. His eyes were still dark, and he stared down at her as if he didn't recognize her. His gaze made her shudder.
Ignoring her discomfort, Hermione took his face in her hands. "Draco," she repeated gently. "It's me. It's Hermione. Please stop Occluding."
His eyes flickered as if he suddenly recognized her, and his Occlusion dropped immediately. What Hermione found in Draco's gaze was and impossible, overwhelming sadness. "Hermione?" he asked, his voice breaking.
Hermione nodded. "What's wrong?" she asked. "What's happened?"
He looked away from her. "It didn't work. The wards didn't work," he said, sounding very small.
Hermione was confused. There had always been a chance the wards wouldn't work—they had always known that.
"He killed my mother, Hermione," Draco continued quietly.
Hermione froze, staring up at Draco. He hadn't known. He had suspected, to some extent—but he had never really known. The wards hadn't worked, which meant that Voldemort had killed his mother.
And now he knew.
This was what she had been worried about—the thing she couldn't put her finger on. It had been Draco's emotional state, Hermione realized.
"Oh, Draco," Hermione said, not knowing what else she could say. Beneath her fingers, he had begun to tremble. His eyes shifted back to the parchment on the desk, as if he were desperate to find something—anything—to counteract this information. Hermione knew there was nothing. She tried to make him focus on her. "Draco," she repeated.
He shook his head and pulled himself away from her, heading to the desk. "No," he said, frantically sifting through the parchment once more.
"Draco," Hermione said again, touching his shoulder. He was shaking now, and she could feel the crackling of magic coming off of him.
When he finally turned back to her, Hermione saw the dam inside of him break. He was paler than usual, and his eyes were red-rimmed. Instantly, Hermione wrapped him in her arms, and he instantly sagged against her. "I need to get out of here," he said after a moment, his voice trembling.
"What?" she asked, holding him tighter.
"I need to get out of here, Hermione," Draco replied quietly. "I can't breathe here." Even as he spoke, his breath had begun to hitch.
Hermione pulled away from him slightly. His skin was almost grey, and he she could feel his heart thumping in his chest when she rested her palm against it. She suspected he was on the verge of a panic attack. "Draco, breathe," she said gently.
"Please get me out of here, Hermione," Draco pleaded. "Please."
"Draco, where would we even go?" she asked.
He stared at her. "You know where," he said quietly.
Of course she knew where—the clearing. The one place Draco was able to breathe.
Hermione nodded. "Okay," she replied. "Let me go find Harry so I can get clearance. Stay here and breathe, okay?"
Draco sucked in a breath before exhaling deeply. "Okay," he agreed.
She hated leaving him, but she knew he needed to leave now, and she was going to do everything in her power to make that happen. Fortuitously, Hermione happened to very nearly run into Harry on the stairs in her haste. "Harry —" she began, almost as breathless as Draco was.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked immediately.
"We need to go," Hermione said. "I need permission for us to leave."
"Leave?" Harry asked, clearly confused.
Hermione nodded. "Just for a little bit. Draco's not—he's not —" she couldn't get the words out, it seemed. "Please just let us leave. Just for a day," she finally said desperately.
Harry merely nodded. "Yes," he said. "Go. If it's going to be longer than a day, I need you to check in, though, okay?"
Hermione returned Harry's nod. "Yes," she agreed. "Thank you, Harry."
"Go," Harry said. "Before I change my mind."
She ran back up the stairs without a second thought, finding Draco sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, his breathing still shaky. "Come on," Hermione said, pulling at his hands.
Draco looked up at her, appearing somewhat surprised. "We can go?" he asked quietly.
Hermione nodded. "Yes," she said. "Come on, get up."
He rose instantly, twining their fingers together. Hermione grabbed her purple bag and slung it over her shoulder before leaving the bedroom and leading Draco down the stairs. She was thankful to find the living room empty as she opened the door to the safe house and took several steps outside. She had been prepared to do the apparation, but she wasn't nearly as fast as Draco, who had them in the clearing almost immediately.
Hermione quickly surveyed the clearing, finding it very much identical to how she had last seen it. The corner of her mouth quirked as her eyes rested on their makeshift bed, still there and topped with the green silk comforter. "I never thought I'd see that thing again," she said, gesturing towards the comforter.
"I had wanted to bring it with me," Draco replied after taking several deep breaths. The change had been in Draco's demeanor had been instantaneous "But, well—you know what happened." He sighed and his hold on her hand loosened, as he was seemingly more relaxed. "It's good to be back here."
Hermione wholeheartedly agreed—it was good to be back. The Order was so stifling, and Hermione felt that she was constantly being pulled between her duties and her loyalty to the Order and her relationship with Draco. So far, those pieces of her life didn't seem to align entirely, despite her best efforts.
Every moment spent at the Order was fraught with tension, and as such, left Hermione feeling suffocated. Like Draco, she found it hard to breathe. Mimicking Draco, Hermione sucked in her own deep breath, exhaling after a moment. She hadn't realized just how tense she had been until it rapidly melted from her shoulders.
She looked up to Draco, who was watching her. "You feel it, too, don't you?"
Calm, she realized. She felt calm, for the first time since she had joined the Order. "Yes," Hermione agreed. "Now what?" she asked.
Draco shrugged, the expression on his face suggesting that he clearly hadn't thought much further than leaving the safe house. He had wanted out, but beyond that, he was entirely unsure.
Hermione tugged at his hand, leading him towards the makeshift bed. "Let's sleep?" she suggested.
Draco nodded, following Hermione. When they reached the bed, Hermione removed her jumper and her shoes and crawled into bed, relishing feeling of the silk comforter against her skin. She pulled the comforter up, gesturing for Draco. Still looking unsure, Draco removed his robes and his own shoes before sliding into the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. He breathed deeply into her hair. "I love you," he murmured against her curls.
Hermione flipped in his arms so that she was facing him. She pushed his hair away from his face before wrapping her own arms around him and pressing her face to his chest. "I love you, too," she said quietly. "Do you want to talk?"
Against her, he shook his head. "No," he replied. "I just want to sleep. I want—I want to forget about today entirely."
"Okay," Hermione agreed, tightening her hold on him.
The clearing was quiet for a long time, and Hermione was certain that Draco had fallen asleep as she listened to the sound of his heartbeat. With Draco asleep, Hermione closed her own eyes, willing herself to sleep as well. She was nearly asleep when she felt something warm and wet on the top of her head. Hermione opened her eyes and looked up to Draco.
It shouldn't have surprised her that he was crying given the events of the day. But she still was, somehow. As she wiped the tears form his eyes with the pad of her thumb, Hermione suddenly realized why she was so surprised: She had never seen Draco Malfoy cry in her entire life.
He'd lost everything. His house, his money, his childhood. His father had been murdered by his master, and now he had discovered that his mother had been murdered, too. The very woman he had given away his freedom away to protect.
Realizing all of this, Hermione stayed quiet, and she let Draco cry.