Hermione was dozing on Draco's bare chest when his stomach growled loudly, waking her fully. Hermione groaned, her own stomach feeling rather empty. "We had a lot of sex and no food," she said.
"I fear that we have made a mistake and shall soon perish," Draco replied dramatically. "Fuck, I'm too exhausted to move."
Hermione grinned, knowing she was the reason he was so exhausted. "I saw some sandwiches at some point earlier," she said, forcing herself from the comfort of their bed and pulling on Draco's button-up shirt and the underwear that had just earlier covered his thighs.
She thought of looking for a pair of pajama paints, but she figured it was unlikely someone would be awake at this time of night anyways.
As she made her way downstairs, Hermione found that that the dining room light had been left on. She rolled her eyes, knowing that wizards would never understand the concept of wasting electricity. She'd turn off the light when she was heading back upstairs, she resolved.
Hermione found several sandwiches left out on the counter, and finding another plate, she loaded it with leftover sandwiches.
Her own stomach was beginning to growl, and she was fairly certain that she and Draco were going to have sex at least once more before falling asleep completely.
As she walked back by the dining room, she stepped inside to turn off the light and lurched, nearly dropping the plate of sandwiches. "Ron?" she asked, startled, finding him sitting on the other side of the table.
Ron glanced up at her, his eyes meeting her briefly before he began to scan her body, his face suddenly turning a violent shade of pink.
Fuck, Hermione thought, immediately regretting bringing attention to herself. She was standing in front of Ron Weasley, dressed only in Draco's clothes.
In his underwear.
"There's no getting out of this, Weasley. Stop stalling."
Hermione shifted to find Astoria on the other side of the chess board, grinning and looking pleased with herself. Her eyes were closed and she was tapping her fingers together.
Ron was still staring at her.
After a moment, Astoria opened her eyes and caught sight of Hermione. She raised her eyebrows in response. "Oh," she said. "Hello, Granger."
Hermione waved awkwardly. "Hello," she replied quietly. "Normally I have on pants."
Astoria merely nodded. "Yes, I have seen you in pants before," she agreed before frowning and returning her attention to Ron. "Weasley, make a move."
Briefly, Ron's eyes returned to the chess board and Hermione took the opportunity to jolt up the stairs, slamming the the bedroom door behind her and jumping onto the bed. The plate of sandwiches landed squarely on Draco's chest.
"Oof."
Ron and Astoria are playing chess," she said breathlessly.
"And?" he asked in confusion, selecting a sandwich.
Hermione leaned over him. "Well," she continued. "Don't you think that's strange?"
Draco took a bite of his sandwich and shrugged. "Yes," he agreed. "I certainly wouldn't choose to spend time with Weasley. But I'm part of the Order now, so few things surprise me anymore."
Draco was very much not taking her seriously, and it was irritating her.
"They were playing chess and I was downstairs in your underwear!" she exclaimed, standing back up.
At her tone, Draco dropped his sandwich and sat up. "Well, were they in their underwear, too?" he asked.
"No!" she cried. "Stop trying to be funny!"
"Hermione," he said gently. "I'm afraid that I don't entirely understand what's wrong."
Neither did she, if she was being honest. She felt her face fall. She closed her eyes and exhaled for a moment. "It's them, and it's us, and I'm in your underwear." It was the closest she could come to a coherent explanation.
"Ah," Draco said, unhelpfully.
"That's it!?" Hermione replied.
"No," he continued softly. "They know we're together. It's not a surprise. Astoria is fine." He paused, studying her face. "It's Weasley, isn't it?"
Yes, she suddenly realized. That was it. The way he looked at her. He'd pretended, at first. But his face gave him away.
She didn't want to hurt Ron. She loved Ron. She just didn't love him.
"I don't want to rub it in his face," she said quietly, wrapping her arms around herself.
"You aren't rubbing it in his face, Hermione," he replied. "It's 3 in the morning and you went to get some sandwiches." He shrugged. "You didn't know he'd be awake."
Hermione hugged herself tighter.
"Can you come here?" he asked, reaching for her. "You're making me nervous."
Hermione went to him, allowing his arms to replace hers. She curled into him.
"I agree that it is not ideal for either of them to see you in my underwear, but we're together. It can't be entirely surprising to either of them that we're having sex," he continued.
"A lot of sex," Hermione replied.
"A lot of sex," Draco agreed. She could hear the grin in his voice.
"It feels mean," she said quietly. "I mean, you were right. He is in love with me. I don't—I'm not—" she cut off.
"Hermione," he replied, squeezing her against his chest tighter. "You aren't trying to hurt anyone."
It was true. She wasn't.
"I've thought about this a lot. I think you were alone for too long. I think you think that if you do one thing wrong you'll end up alone again," Draco said quietly.
Hermione sucked in a breath, and it was several moments before she finally exhaled again. Her heart was thumping in her chest, because he had just hit the nail on the head. She stayed quiet.
She knew Draco understood because he simply pressed a kiss to her temple. "It's not true, you know," he continued softly. "I'm not ever going anywhere. Neither is Potter, neither is Weasley, I fear. You and Ginny might be having a disagreement right now, but she's not going anywhere either."
"They left before," Hermione replied.
"You know they didn't mean to," Draco said.
She knew they hadn't. She was angry. But she knew they hadn't meant to leave her. It was a mistake, a misunderstanding—for fuck's sake, they had looked for her. Misguidedly, but they had tried.
Perhaps she needed to stop being so angry with them.
She hadn't actually been abandoned. Just, simply—lost.
"Where would you look for me?" she asked Draco.
He took her fingers, intertwining them before beginning to absently to play with them. "The clearing," he replied instantly. "My estate in Russia. Your parents' house in England."
"You know where they lived?" she asked, surprised. It wasn't a bad option. She would go there.
"No. But I'd find out. I'd burn the fucking world down to find you, Hermione," he said quietly. Against her, he shook his head. "That sounds horrible, too. If you ever wanted to go—I'd let you go. But if I lost you—I'd never stop until I found you."
"We just talked about this," she said, playing with his fingers, too. "I don't want to be let go,"
"Then I won't ever," Draco replied, pulling her squarely onto his lap. He was still entirely naked.
She couldn't help her grin. "Draco," she said, "not in front of the sandwiches."
He groaned. "Fuck the sandwiches," he replied.
"I thought you were hungry."
"I am. But not for sandwiches. Not anymore."
It was nearly 7 in the morning before they finally got around to actually eating said sandwiches.
They'd had more sex before briefly dozing off once more. However, Draco's stomach rumbling became so loud that it one again woke Hermione from her slumber. She rose with a sigh and pulled on her own pajama bottoms and t-shirt—she would not get distracted this time.
"Hmm?" Draco mumbled, barely awake. Then his stomach growled again and he winced, sitting up. "I'm hungry."
"You've been hungry," Hermione replied gesturing towards her purple beaded bag. "Get dressed."
Draco grinned. "I've been distracted. You were naked."
"Which is why I am putting on clothes," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Oh, so I don't need to?" Draco asked, waggling his eyebrows mischievously.
"Put on some pants, Draco. Your bum is incredibly distracting. Is that what you need to hear?"
He grinned. "Yes, precisely."
Hermione felt herself flush. "Can you please put on some pants?" she repeated.
"It will take me a moment," he replied, pulling her purple beaded bag onto the bed.
His tie. His underwear. All of his clothes. When had it gone from her purple beaded bag to theirs?
Gods, she fucking loved him. "I love you," she heard herself say.
"Darling, I am currently rummaging through your things," he replied absently.
"Draco, stop trying to be funny. I'm being serious."
"I'm not trying to be funny. Hermione, what's—"
"That bag isn't just my things. It's our things."
Draco paused and looked at her. He smiled. "I suppose you're right, aren't you?" He reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist, reaching up to press a kiss to the corner of her jaw before releasing her and going back to rummaging through the bag.
Once they had dressed, Hermione retrieved the plate of sandwiches from the night stand where they had been abandoned and slid down to the floor, leaning against the edge of the bed. Draco joined her, his bare shoulder brushing against hers before he selected the sandwich that he had previously bitten into.
They ate in comfortable silence for several minutes before Hermione swallowed her last bite and cleared her throat. "I'm going to talk to Ron this morning. Before the meeting. I don't want things to be awkward—I know I said I was going to before, but things got a bit crazy," she said.
Draco swallowed his own bite of sandwich. He studied her for a moment before nodding. "Okay," he agreed.
"I just want to apologize for last night—or this morning, I guess," she continued, rationalizing it more for her benefit than for Draco's. "Clear the air."
"Hermione—" Draco began.
"I want him to know that I'm not trying to rub it in his face—"
"—you're rambling."
Hermione frowned. "I am," she agreed.
He sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You're stressed. You'll talk to Weasley and everything will be fine. If he's truly your friend, he will understand."
"I hope so," Hermione lamented.
"Come on, eat a little bit more and let's have a shower," he replied, pulling her into him. "Are you as sore as I am?"
"Probably sorer," Hermione replied. "I'm the one with the vagina."
They had had entirely too much sex.
She felt Draco frown against her hair. "I'm sorry," he murmured.
Hermione felt herself grin. "It's okay. But we definitely need to shower," she said. "Perhaps separately."
Draco's fingers skimmed down her arm, landing on her wrist where he began to stroke comforting circles into her skin. "No funny business this morning," he said seriously.
Hermione rested her head against his shoulder, selecting another sandwich. "All right," she agreed.
The house was still quiet as they headed to the bathroom. Draco locked the door behind them and turned the shower on before beginning to strip, once again showing off the muscular curve of his arse.
She felt herself grow aroused even as she throbbed painfully between her legs. She wasn't sure she could have sex again, even though she certainly wanted to.
Draco stepped into the shower, reaching for her. Hermione pulled off her own clothes before pulling her hair into a messy bun. She stepped into the shower, facing Draco. He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. The hot water slid down her spine and she sighed heavily. It helped her sore muscles.
They stood under the hot water for a long time, just relaxing. Hermione jolted when she felt Draco's hands on her, gently rubbing soap into her skin. "Relax," he murmured against her ear. She shivered as he began massaging her tired muscles.
She was nearly boneless by the end of their shower. Nearly all of her aches were gone—except one—by the time Draco turned off the shower. He kissed her shoulder and wrapped a towel around her. When she turned to face him, he was busy tying his own towel around his hips. When he glanced up at her, he smiled.
Hermione was struck with a sudden thought: Draco was handsome, and she didn't know that she'd ever told him. "Have I ever told you that you're a handsome lately?" she asked. "Because I don't think I have."
Of course, she had. But it has been a while.
His smile widened. "You have not," Draco confirmed, resting his hand on her hip.
"I'm an idiot," Hermione replied softly, suddenly feeling guilty. She should tell him every day.
Draco's smile faltered for a moment, his free hand gently cupping her cheek. "You are the smartest woman I've ever met," he said, stroking her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "And it isn't even close."
"I've never even told you that I think you're handsome," Hermione lamented.
"I had a sneaking suspicion," Draco replied, his grin returning in full. His hand on her hip flexed. "The lots of sex made me wonder."
"You said no funny business this morning," Hermione reminded him, her hands resting on his bare chest. His skin was still wet.
Draco's serious expression returned. "Yes," he agreed. "No funny business. Come on, we had a long night—I'd like a bit of a study before we have to listen to Potter's harebrained idea."
"It's not harebrained," Hermione grumbled. Well, at least, she hoped it wasn't.
She followed Draco back to the bedroom but when he selected a book from the nightstand and laid down, motioning for her, Hermione merely shook her head and began rummaging through their bag for a set of clothes.
Draco sat up, his brow furrowed.
"I want to think," she explained. "Alone. For a little bit." She swallowed and looked away from him.
There was a moment of silence before Draco replied: "Okay."
She went to him, still wrapped in her towel. "Just for a little bit," she said, kissing his forehead.
"I know," he said simply, tilting his head up to meet her kiss more fully. "Go think, and plot, and talk to the Weasel."
Hermione cupped his face in her hands. "I love you," she said quietly.
The corner of his mouth quirked. "Back at you," he replied.
As Draco watched, Hermione pulled on a pair of underwear and a bra, followed by a pair of leggings and a jumper. She went to kiss him again. "Don't be late," she said.
He grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, falling back against the pillows and opening the book, beginning to read.
Hermione wasn't surprised to find herself alone in the meeting room. It was still early, after all, and she did want to think.
She ran her fingers over the maps on the walls. So many of the plans had been Draco's. She was certain. She felt it in her heart. It was Draco.
There was the creak of the door and Hermione whirled around to find Ron standing at the door, chess set tucked under her arm.
They were both quiet for several moments.
"Sorry," he finally said. "I'll go."
"Don't," Hermione blurted. "We need to talk."
Ron look pained for a moment before nodding. "We do, don't we?"
"Last night—" she began.
"Was weird," he finished.
"I didn't think anyone would be awake," Hermione said lamely.
Ron stated intensely at a spot across the room, his arms crossed tightly over his body. "I'm trying, Hermione," he said quietly. "I've been trying. But it's hard. And you know how to my temper gets the best of me sometimes."
"Ron—" she began.
Ron shook his head. "No," he interrupted. "I've been thinking about this a lot and I need to just say it."
Hermione bristled. He still didn't listen to her. That clearly hadn't change.
"I did love you, Hermione. But I didn't—I don't—love you the way that Malfoy loves you. He worships the ground you walk on. I've seen it with my own two eyes. And that's what you deserve. I was never going to be like that for you."
Hermione wrung her hands together. "I love you, too, Ron," she replied. "But not how I love Draco."
"I know," he said. After a moment he spoke again: "You love him?" he asked quietly.
"I think he might be the one," she said quietly, looking away from Ron. She didn't say it to hurt him, but to he honest. She wanted him to understand.
Ron visibly swallowed "And he's good to you?" he asked, his voice somewhat strained.
"Yes ."
Ron nodded, biting his lip. "Then I have to let you go. For real this time."
Hermione nodded back. "Yes. You do."
Ron sighed, looking slightly pained. "I can't promise that I'll be perfect, or that it will happen over night," he said. "But I will let you go."
She felt her irritation rise. She had never even been his. She wasn't his to let go of. "That's okay," Hermione replied, shoving down her irritation.
"I don't want us to not be friends," he continued.
"You will always be my friend, Ronald, whether you like it or not," she said.
He gave her a lopsided grin. "Good.
"Good," Hermione agreed.
Ron looked down at the floor, appearing to contemplate for a moment. He bit his lip and rocked back on his heels. "In the interest of being friends, can I tell you something?" he asked.
Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Um, sure,"'she replied, hating how uncertain her voice sounded.
His grin widened. "I think I like Astoria."
"Astoria…Greengrass?" Hermione asked.
Ron nodded excitedly. "Yeah," he was. "I met her at the party last night and we started talking, and well—we never really stopped."
Well, that certainly explained the 3 a.m. chess game.
Hermione felt the corner of her lip quirk. Ron seemed happier—less angry. "That's great, Ron," she said. "I'll put in a good word for you."
He paused, staring at her seriously. "You know her?" he asked.
Hermione shook heard. "No, but Draco does,"'she replied.
"Right," Ron said awkwardly. His gaze was now on his shoes.
At that very moment, Harry burst into the room, Draco on his heels. "Potter!" he shouted.
Harry stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of Hermione and Ron. "Oh," he said slowly. "I thought Malfoy was just being prick."
"Well, I was, to be fair," Draco replied, shrugging.
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What?"'she asked.
"He was blocking the stairs," Harry said, breathlessly.
"What?" Hermione repeated, shooting a look at Draco.
"George said you were already up here with the weasel—Weasley," he corrected.
He'd known she'd been talking to Ron, and didn't want them to be interrupted. He could've been jealous—maybe he should've been. But Draco was currently only staring at her with concern.
Gods, she loved him.
Forever, she thought.
She blinked at him twice. Everything's fine.
He tipped his chin at her. Okay.
"It's fine," Hermione said, turning her attention to Harry. "We were done anyways."
Draco took several strides towards her, standing next to her and placing a hand on the small of her back. You're okay?
She pressed back against his hand slightly. Yes.
They spoke so effortlessly. She could read him like her favorite book, over and over again, and she'd never get sick of it despite knowing every word by heart.
Forever, she thought again, instinctively leaning into his touch.
Ron liked Astoria. And this, with Draco, was forever.
Hermione was suddenly absolutely certain of it. She couldn't even help herself as she stood on the tips of her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. When she pulled away, his expression was impossibly smug.
She could've slapped him.
"You guys really are gross," Harry commented, though his expression was bemused.
Briefly, Hermione wondered how the rest of his evening with Ginny had gone. She looked towards Ron, who was currently setting up his chess board.
She didn't want to rub her relationship with Draco in his face. But—it was what it was.
And he liked Astoria, anyways.
She felt the corner of her mouth quirk. Hermione suddenly resolved to make that happen for him.
Draco squeezed her hand before the pad of his thumb encircled the palm of her hand. You're meddling, aren't you?
Hermione stroked his middle finger with hers. Yes.
He squeezed her hand again. Okay.
"We're here, Potter, despite my best efforts. So, what's the plan?" Draco asked.
"Can we all sit?" Harry asked, gesturing towards the empty chairs.
Hermione instantly took a seat across from Harry and Ron, but Draco remained standing, bracing his hands on the back of Hermione's chair. "I'm fine with standing," he said, as Harry gave him a look.
"You're impossible," Hermione muttered under her breath.
"Now, I'm confused," Harry said. "Do you two love each other or hate each other?"
"Well, currently, it's a little bit of both— "Hermione replied.
"—Love" Draco said simultaneously. "Well, darling, now I'm offended."
"You really think you're funny today, don't you?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
"I am hilarious," Draco replied.
"Okay, as entertaining it is to watch you two—flirt?—we have more important matters to attend to. Can we get a move on?" Ron asked, his eyes still fixed on his chess board.
"My apologies, Weasley," Draco replied, sounding, to Hermione's surprise, as if he actually meant it. He gently squeezed Hermione's shoulder. I'm sorry.
"Ron's right," Harry agreed, turning serious. "We have a lot to discuss."
"I repeat," Draco said. "What is the plan, Potter?"
Harry shook his head. "It's simple, really," he replied.
"Why does that not inspire me with the utmost confidence?" Draco drawled.
Harry shrugged. "It's not rocket science, Malfoy."
"What's rocket science?" Draco asked.
"Muggle things," Hermione supplied.
"Oh," Draco replied, still sounding confused.
"I'll explain it later," Hermione offered.
"I've called Bill and Fleur back from Paris," Harry continued, ignoring Hermione and Draco. "They will need about a month. They have a few people in the Ministry and a quick exit would be suspicious—"
"—Kingsley said we had no more spies," Hermione interrupted.
Harry shook his head. "We don't. They're mostly low level. There if we ever needed spies but none of them have been there long enough to gain clearance."
"You all are idiots," Draco said.
"Draco, shut up," Hermione admonished.
Harry ignored them both. "I'm recalling them so we have a full Order army. The plan is simple, though. We get to the snake, and we destroy it with the unicorn horn. Then I lure him out, and I kill him. Once and for all."
"Brilliant plan, Potter," Draco said sarcastically. "You've simply thought of everything."
Harry scowled. "Well, enlighten me then, Malfoy."
"How are you getting to the snake? Who's destroying the Horcrux?" Draco asked harshly, his fingers tapping on the back of Hermione's chair. "You're obviously the right choice to lure him out, but you've got the the other bit wrong, Potter."
"What?" Hermione and Harry asked in unison.
"But it's Harry—" Ron added slowly.
Draco sighed heavily. "Did you all forget about the prophecy?" he asked. When no one replied, he continued, "Of course you did. Big surprise there." He sighed again.
"Draco," Hermione said quietly. "What are you talking about?"
"Potter isn't the one who has to kill him. I'm the one who has to kill him."
"What!?" Hermione, Harry, and Ron all shouted in unison.
Draco's hands disappeared from her chair and he began to pace in front of the desk. "Is this how you planned to defeat Him last time? Small wonder how it didn't work," he said sardonically.
"Draco—" Hermione began.
He turned to her. "Is this vague plan good enough for you, Hermione?" he asked. "Because something vague that could potentially get you killed is no where good enough for me."
Truthfully, no. It wasn't good enough for her. She didn't disagree with him there.
He strode over to the maps that were plastered all over the walls. He ran his fingers over the parchment. "You lost Lovegood in this one, because you miscalculated. I liked her, you know. She was strange, but kind." He turned back to desk. "Tell me, did you lose anyone with one of my plans?"
Hermione watched as Harry thought for a moment. "No," he replied finally.
Draco nodded. "I thought as much," he said, shoving his hands inelegantly into his pockets. "I'm the one who has to kill Him. The plan needs to be mine—clearly."
"Draco—" Hermione began again. Draco's eyes shot to her face.
"—How do you figure that, Malfoy?" Harry interrupted.
Draco's eyes flashed in irritation and his lip twitched, his gaze lingering on Hermione before returning to Harry. "Am I the only one who remembers the prophecy? The one that I stole—for The Order, by the way."
"I remember it clearly," Harry replied. "Where does it say Malfoy is the one who must vanquish the The Dark Lord?"
"You're the one with the power, certainly," Draco replied slowly. "But you're not the one with the capability."
"And you are?" Harry asked in disbelief.
Draco's nostrils flared. "Yes," he said firmly. "I don't get people killed. I won't get her killed." He gestured towards Hermione.
"Draco, that's not what the prophecy said," Hermione said, feeling the dread in her stomach build.
He nodded. "I know what the prophecy said, I have it memorized."
Of course he did. He'd probably written it down a hundred times.
"The thing with with prophecies," he continued, "is they can be interpreted in a thousand different ways. No one wants Him dead more than I do. And I can do it."
"Draco!" Hermione exclaimed, shooting out of her seat. "What are you doing?"
"Fulfilling the fucking prophecy," he replied.
"It's not about you!" Hermione cried.
"It is," Draco said gently. It's about me, you, and Astoria." He turned towards Harry. "I make the plan, Potter. Not you." His gaze flashed toward Ron. "Also, for the record, Weasley, you are useless."
Ron's eyes finally left his chess board. "Fuck off, Malfoy."
Harry was studying Draco intently. "We have time," he said slowly. "Give me a solid plan and I'll consider it."
Draco nodded. "You had no fucking plan, so this should be easy."
"Draco—" Hermione repeated.
"Hermione and I make the plan," Draco said.
"That's not exactly what I was trying to say, but okay —"
Harry stared at Hermione. "You and Hermione make the plan," he said quietly, questioningly.
"This isn't your fight anymore, Potter. It's mine."
Slowly, Hermione nodded, even as her stomach bubbled with nerves. Harry hadn't wanted it to be his fight anymore—it had been, but not anymore.
Draco's fight.
Of course it was Draco's fight.
She understood it, but she also wanted to throttle him.
It had always been his fight, though. Possibly more than it had ever been Harry's.
"We'll make a plan," Hermione said quietly, placing her fingers on the inside of Draco's wrist and squeezing gently. I love you.
"I'm going to kill Him," he said, stroking her palm. Back at you. "Once and for all."