Draco cried for a while, Hermione's arms wrapped around him. Eventually, he stopped, sucking in a deep breath and curling into Hermione's hold. Not long after, he finally fell asleep.

Hermione stayed awake for a long time, watching Draco and holding him, unwilling to loosen her grip on him.

Eventually, Hermione's own eyes began to droop with exhaustion. She was unsure of the exact time, but it had been a long night, both for Draco and for her. Content that Draco was finally sleeping easily, Hermione allowed her eyes to close, falling into her own uneasy sleep, where she dreamt of Voldemort, unicorns, and steak knives.

When she awoke the next morning, the sun was just beginning to rise. At some point during the night, she had flipped in her sleep, loosening her grip on Draco. She turned in the makeshift bed, but was surprised when she found Draco was already gone. Instantly, she sat up, expecting to find him sitting at the tree, perhaps scribbling at a piece of parchment or foolishly adding more blood wards to the clearing.

There was no Draco, however, and Hermione immediately felt herself panic until she caught sight of the unicorn, who was grazing lazily on a patch of grass nearby. She sighed and rose, pulling her shoes on, stumbling as she did so.

"Where is he?" Hermione asked.

The unicorn immediately raised his head, slowly chewing on his mouthful of grass. He gave her a bored look before taking several steps towards the path that led to the lake.

The lake. Of course that was where he was.

Hermione walked beside the unicorn on the overgrown path, the unicorn occasionally pausing to tear apart the most inconvenient brambles with his horn. Eventually, they emerged on the other side of the path.

Immediately, she caught sight of Draco. He was sitting on the end of the fallen tree, dressed only in his underwear, his bare skin gleaming brightly in the morning light. His hair was wet as if he had just gone for a swim, and he was staring at the surface of the lake intensely.

The unicorn pressed his horn into the small of her back. "Stop poking me with that thing," Hermione hissed.

The unicorn let out an irritated huff, before heading towards the lush patch of grass next to the lake.

Scowling at the unicorn, Hermione made her way to far side of the lake and as Draco caught sight of her, the corner of his mouth quirked and he reached out for her. Despite his small smile for her, he still appeared to be impossibly sad. "I wouldn't have left you alone if the unicorn hadn't shown up," he said quietly.

Hermione took his hand and sat down next to him. "I know," Hermione replied simply, because she did know. Draco never would have left her alone if he thought she was in any sort of danger.

Draco merely nodded, twining their fingers together.

"What are you doing out here all by yourself?" Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged. "I couldn't sleep, and I didn't want to wake you."

Hermione nodded before gently squeezing his hand. "I know you didn't want to talk last night," she said softly. "And if you don't want to talk today either, that's okay. But if you do—I'm here."

Draco's gaze had returned to the lake. She didn't mind the silence—she had never minded the silence with Draco. But she could tell he was thinking.

She knew he would talk to her eventually. And she would wait patiently until then.

Hermione would hold his hand and wait if that was what he needed.

She didn't have to wait long. "I can tell you the exact moment I knew I was going to fall in love with you, you know," he said quietly.

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"When you told me about your parents," Draco replied. "What you did. I was attracted to you before that. But that's when I knew—that's when I knew you were like me."

"Like you?" she asked.

"Willing to do anything for the people you love—even if it hurts," Draco replied, fiddling with her fingers.

"We are alike, aren't we?" Hermione asked.

Draco laughed bitterly. "Yes," he agreed. He was silent for several minutes, absently playing with her fingers, before he finally spoke again: "I feel useless, Hermione," he said, his voice breaking "I've very nearly killed myself trying to protect the people that I love and they're all dead. What the fuck was this all for? What was even the point?" His fingers were now squeezing hers, almost painfully.

"You did what everything that you could have, Draco," Hermione said gently.

"Yes, and everyone is still dead."

"You know that isn't your fault, Draco."

Draco nodded, though he looked skeptical.

"Draco—" Hermione began.

"Do you really think we can beat Him, Hermione?" Draco immediately interrupted.

Hermione stared at him. "You mean—?" she asked, even though she already knew who he meant.

Draco nodded. "Yes."

"Yes," Hermione replied.

He stared at her. "Do you mean that, or are you just telling me what you think I want to hear?"

"I mean it," Hermione said seriously.

He looked away, still looking skeptical. Skeptical and defeated.

"I believe that, Draco," Hermione said after a moment. "I really do."

His eyes were brimming with tears once more. He wiped at them with the back of his hand. He laughed again. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Why are you sorry?" Hermione asked softly. She didn't need him to be sorry. She needed him to be okay.

"I have tried so hard not to be weak anymore," Draco replied after a moment.

"You are not weak, Draco," Hermione said.

"I am," he replied, his voice breaking. "I've been weak my entire fucking life."

"You are not weak," she repeated adamantly.

"I knew it was a possibility that he killed her." Draco said after several minutes. "I knew. But now I know. I didn't expect it to hurt so much."

"Of course it hurts, Draco," Hermione reassured him. "But hurting doesn't mean you're weak. You're the strongest man I've ever met."

Draco laughed bitterly. "Right," he said skeptically.

"I meant it," she replied. "Would I lie to you?"

He stared at her with raised brows. "To make me feel better?" he asked. "Yes."

Well, fair enough. Hermione nodded, conceding. "Yes, that is true," she agreed. "But I'm not lying to you." She paused for a moment. "You saved me, Draco."

It was a loaded statement; she realized just as she spoke it. She didn't mean that he had saved her just from the Snatchers—he had saved her from them, of course, but he had also saved her in other ways—ways she couldn't even begin to quantify.

He had saved her from a life a loneliness—a life alone, committed uselessly trying to kill Voldemort. Without him, she still would have no idea what the last Horcrux was. Without him, she wouldn't have the Order.

Except she hated the Order. She hated them. They had left her by herself for two years, and they all seemed to expect the same Hermione that they had left behind, instead of a drastically changed person. Harry seemed to understand to some extent. George, too. But Ron, Ginny, Kingsley—none of them.

They didn't understand Draco, and that was fine. They didn't have to understand him. She understood him.

But they didn't understand her either.

And just like with Draco, they didn't want to try.

She didn't want to try—not if they wouldn't.

Draco nodded, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. He understood her.

Hermione took comfort in this fact.

Beside her, Draco sighed. "We should get back then," he said reluctantly.

Not yet. She didn't want to go back yet. "No," Hermione heard herself say.

"No?" Draco asked, looking somewhat surprised.

"Not yet," she replied as she stood on the fallen log, stumbling as she did so. Draco's hand shot out, his grip like iron around her ankle. It steadied her. With a grin, Hermione pulled off her shirt before shimmying out of her leggings and tossing them to Draco, who caught them with Seeker-like reflexes. She jumped into the water which was still warm from Draco's magic. She could feel his magic tingling against her skin before it sank into her bones and then became a low thrum in her veins. She could feel him.

She had warmed the water for him the last time, she wondered if he had felt her so acutely.

When Hermione looked up at Draco, she found him watching her with dark eyes. "What about your daily morning meeting?" he asked.

"It's early, Draco," she replied, enjoying the water on her skin. "We have time."

He grinned back at her. "We do, don't we?" he replied playfully, slipping into the water beside her. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Hermione wound her arms around his shoulders, and feeling weightless from the water, she wrapped her legs around his waist. "For what?" she asked.

Draco shrugged. "For this," he said, jerking his head up towards the open sky. "For getting me away. I'm sure the Order wasn't too happy about it."

"I only told Harry," Hermione replied. "I don't care what the rest of them think."

"That's not true and you know it," Draco said gently.

Well, he was right. She did care.

Because of course she did. She always had.

She laid her head against his shoulder, huffing as she did so. She did not bother disagreeing with him, her earlier resolution cracking and falling away at Draco's knowing words. She cared too much—that had always been her problem. And of course, Draco knew this, because he knew her.

She hated them. But she did care.

They stayed like this for a while, Hermione enjoying the feeling of Draco's bare skin against hers, coupled with sensation of the surrounding warmth of the water. Eventually, Draco's magic began to wear off and the water began to cool, causing goosebumps to pebble across Hermione's forearms and calves, and Hermione began to reluctantly pull away from Draco, deciding that yes, in fact, it was time to leave.

As she began to separate herself from Draco's body, however, Hermione caught sight of the unicorn who was still by the side of the lake. He was no longer lazily munching on grass, though; Instead, he was staring directly at Draco and Hermione.

The first thing that struck Hermione was just how odd it was to make eye contact with a horse—unicorn, she instantly reminded herself—and it was even odder how he held her gaze as his head lowered towards the lake before gently dipping the tip of his horn into the water.

She would've found this strange, she knew, if she currently had the ability to think at all, but the magic suddenly coursing through her veins left her without the capability to think independently. Every single one of her nerves was on fire, thrumming and vibrating with magic. Draco disappeared in front of her, as did the unicorn. She could no longer feel Draco's skin against hers, nor could she feel her own body. She was somehow numb, but her skin was on fire.

Even with this strange sense of numbness, Hermione could still feel emotions. She knew this because she missed Draco. She was scared, and she wanted him to hold her hand. She felt dread, too, because she was currently standing—no, no, not standing, but seated—directly in front of Voldemort, who looked exactly the same as she had last seen him. He was an unnatural shade of white, with gleaming red eyes. His nose was nonexistent, replaced by slits on either side of his face where the nostrils should have been. He was laughing cruelly, his teeth sharp and pointed, the same shade of white as his skin. His lips, were dry and cracked—no, not cracked—bitten, Hermione realized, by his own teeth. There should have been blood, but a man—a thing—like Voldemort didn't bleed.

But no, she wasn't sitting either. That wasn't entirely right. She was too high up. Suddenly, Hermione realized that she was on a horse. No, that wasn't right either. Not a horse—a unicorn. She could tell from the long horn directly in front of her, aimed directly at Voldemort's chest.

Almost —

Almost, as if —

The magic disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Hermione feeling cold, wet, and sputtering for oxygen, because she couldn't quite breathe—and still, when she regained her composure, her gaze was still locked on the unicorn's.

She tore her eyes away from the unicorn, finding Draco watching her seriously. He was also slightly winded. "You felt it, too, didn't you?" he asked. It was not a question.

Hermione nodded, still catching her breath. "Felt it?" she replied after a moment. "I was there."

A look of relief flashed across Draco's face, and Hermione felt certain that he had just seen the same thing she had. "We should go," Draco said calmly, all of his earlier anxiety having seemingly disappeared with the unicorn's magic.

Hermione nodded again, pulling herself away from Draco. Between the cold water and the unicorn's magic, she could feel herself shaking. Once the morning air hit her skin, she began to shiver violently. Draco immediately turned and frowned, drying her instantly with a wave of his wand and handing her her clothes, which Hermione hurriedly pulled on. When Hermione was fully dressed, Draco wordlessly wrapped his cloak around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

With Hermione dressed, Draco quickly began pulling his own clothes on, his brows furrowed in intense concentration. "Draco," she said quietly, her fingers absently toying with the hem of his cloak. "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"I don't know," Draco replied, pulling on his shoes and raking his fingers through his wet hair. "But it's certainly a place to start."

Hermione was still worrying the hem of his cloak, searching uselessly for a loose thread to toy with. "I've asked him before, you know," she said quietly, gesturing towards the unicorn.

Draco looked up at her sharply. "Asked him what?" he asked.

"How to kill Him," Hermione replied, thinking of all the times the unicorn had given her the precise answer she been searching for. "He's told me before—I just wasn't listening."

Draco stared at her. "Hermione, you aren't making any sense," he said gently, reaching out for her.

Hermione allowed him to take her hand and intertwine their fingers together.

"You were asleep. I asked the unicorn how to kill Him. He—head-butted me. It scared me—but it didn't seem like he wanted to hurt me—" Hermione broke off, aware that she probably still wasn't making any sense. She shook her head "He told me the very first time."

"Hermione," he said quietly. "It's not your fault you don't speak unicorn."

"You do!" Hermione replied shrilly.

"I do not," Draco said patiently. "I can interpret sometimes, but I don't know everything." He tugged at her hand. "Come on, I want to grab some clothes from your tent, and we can grab the comforter before we leave."

"I never even got you clothes!" Hermione cried, aware that she definitely was not making any sense now.

Draco turned back towards her fully. He sighed before taking her face in his hands, stroking gently at her jaw with the pads of his thumbs. "Breathe," he said quietly.

She didn't realize she hadn't been. But Draco was right—she wasn't breathing and she was beginning to feel light headed. "I—" she began

"Breathe," Draco repeated.

Hermione gulped, sucking in a large breath of air. Her lungs burned.

"Exhale," Draco said.

She exhaled slowly.

"Again."

Against his hands, Hermione nodded, repeating the action. Once, then twice.

"That's it, love," Draco said gently. "Breathe for me."

Inhale. Exhale.

She felt strangely off kilter, and her vision was fuzzy. She wasn't sure if she was having a panic attack, or if was the unicorn's magic.

Perhaps it was both.

"Breathe for me, Hermione," Draco repeated.

Instantly, her vision sharpened and she was staring into Draco's eyes. She was panicked, but he was as collected as ever, his grey eyes focused on her. She focused on them. His gaze settled her, and she exhaled. "I'm okay," she said, gathering herself.

"You are," Draco agreed, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "Keep breathing for me?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, forcing herself to inhale once again. Seemingly convinced that she was all right, Draco pulled her hand, and they began to make the trek back towards the tent. "Wait," Hermione said after several moments of silence, stopping in her tracks. "You have clothes at my tent?"

Instantly, Draco flushed. "Most of my stuff is there, actually," he admitted, seemingly embarrassed.

"You were living there," she said, suddenly realizing that he hadn't just spent nights in the clearing—he had spent all of his free time there in her absence.

Draco flushed further, not meeting her eyes. He nodded jerkily. "I hope that's okay," he replied.

"Of course it's okay," Hermione said questioningly. "Why wouldn't it be okay?"

Draco shrugged. "They're your wards."

"That you cast for me."

He shrugged again. "They're still yours."

Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's shoulders. He gripped her waist lightly. "Of course it was okay you were here, Draco. I'm glad you came here."

"I missed you when you were gone," he said quietly.

"I missed you," she replied, before pressing a kiss to his lips. She nodded towards her tent. "Go grab your things."

He squeezed her waist gently before releasing her and heading towards the tent. While Draco was gone, Hermione carefully folded up the green silk comforter and stuffed it into her purple bag.

After several minutes, Draco returned, holding a stack of clothing. Hermione immediately opened her bag and gestured towards it. Draco promptly shoved his clothes inside.

Hermione sighed and took Draco's hand. "Next time we're here, Draco," she said, "it will be permanent."

"Yes," he agreed.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked. "After—"

He nodded. "I'm okay," he said resolutely. "I'm always okay."

She wanted him to be more than okay. He deserved to be more than okay. She almost said it but she resisted. She could hear him now: "I'm be more than okay when He's dead."

When they killed Him.

Unicorn horn—it was so obvious. He'd told her.

That's how this would end.

She would kill Him. She'd kill him for Draco.

"Are you okay?" he asked back.

"I'm okay," Hermione replied.

"We're both okay?" Draco asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes," she agreed. "And we are ready to go back?"

Draco was silent for several moments before nodding. "Yes," he said.

Neither one of them was entirely okay. It would be a long time before they were. For now, this would have to do.

"Okay," Hermione said, squeezing his hand and picturing the safe house.

Within seconds, they were inside, standing mere meters from GeorgeWeasley, who raised a glass in their direction. "Morning, mates," he said cheerfully.

"George," Hermione said, "Go to bed."

"Just got out of it, actually. This is breakfast," George replied. "How come you guys get to leave—they never let me out."

"Well, you're a drunk, Weasley. You're a liability," Draco replied smoothly.

Hermione nearly elbowed Draco, warning him, but George grinned and nodded. "True. You know, Malfoy, everyone here hates you, but you're all right in my book. Your wit is refreshing."

Draco looked surprised. "How many breakfasts have you had, Weasley?" he asked.

George's grin widened. "Just the one, Malfoy."

Hermione realized he was being serious. Her heart swelled. Someone at the Order actually liked Draco. She looked to Draco, who looked taken aback and entirely uncomfortable. She tugged at his hand. "Come on, Draco," she said, wanting to rescue him. There were important matters to discuss, and Draco appeared on the verge of a nervous breakdown at George's admittance. "Don't drink too much breakfast, George."

George lifted his glass in an unspoken cheers as Hermione pulled a shell-shocked Draco up the stairs, pausing in front of their bedroom door. She kissed him quickly. "You, go rest. I'll go to the meeting—tell them what we've discovered. I think it's for the best to keep you and Ron far away from each other."

Draco scoffed. "I'm not afraid of Weasley," he replied.

"It's not Ron I'm worried about," Hermione said.

Draco looked down at her, his eyes narrowed. "Ah, I see," he replied. "Fair enough."

She placed her palms on his chest, his muscles flexing automatically again her fingers. "Rest," she repeated. "I'll be back in a little bit." She pressed her purple beaded bag into his hands.

"Hermione," Draco rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

She stroked his chest lightly above his shirt. His heart was pounding. "Yes?" she asked.

"We're going to do this, aren't we?" he asked. sounding much more hopeful. "We know how now."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Draco, we're really going to do this."

He kissed her. Softly, slowly, deliberately. She kissed him back until she felt her lungs begin to burn. She pulled away from him, desperately wanting to disappear into the bedroom with him instead.

He was watching her with fire in his eyes. It was Draco, and he was back, resolute as always. He was her rock, buoying her and keeping adrift.

Hermione felt his heart pounding harder beneath her fingers. "I'll be back," she said, feeling utterly breathless. "Whatever you're thinking, hang on to it."

He grinned, crowding her near the door, his fingers finding her waist. "What is it that I'm thinking about, Hermione?"

She shook her head, grinning back at him. "I don't know. But whatever it is, hang onto it."

Draco kissed her again. "I shall," he said, tucking a curl behind her ear. He sighed, seeming reluctant to let her go. He nodded his head towards the staircase that led to the meeting room. "Go. Tell them what we've discovered."

"You seem better," Hermione said quietly.

Draco bit his lip. "I needed some time to wallow—to process. You got that for me. And now—I'm back. We're back. And we have a mission," he said, his gaze turning serious.

"We have a mission," Hermione repeated.

"Go," he said.

Hermione stood on the tips of her toes, pressing a hasty kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I'll be back," she said, turning on her heel and heading towards the meeting room. She could feel Draco's eyes on her back.

When she entered the meeting room, Hermione was surprised to find Harry and Ron already chatting quietly. Hermione slammed the door behind her, and they both startled, Ron nearly knocking his chess board off the table. "Hermione," Harry said. "We didn't expect you today. How is—?"

Hermione found she was breathing heavily for some reason. "Everything is fine. Draco just—needed some time," she said hurriedly, ignoring Ron's glare. "We figured it out."

"Figured out what?" Harry asked

"How to kill Him," Hermione said breathlessly.

"What?" Harry and Ron said in unison.

Hermione nodded. "Unicorn horn," she replied. "We can kill him with unicorn horn."

"What?" Harry and Ron both repeated.

"Unicorn horn," Hermione said. "I told you about the unicorn, didn't I?"

"You did," Harry said thoughtfully.

"The horse, again?" asked Ron.

"A unicorn," Harry and Hermione corrected in unison.

"Okay, so it's a fancy horse," Ron replied, rolling his eyes.

"He's a unicorn!" Hermione emphasized. "And he is how we kill Him."

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

"I was there, Harry," Hermione said breathlessly. "He showed it to me"

"He is a horse!" Ron repeated.

"A unicorn!" Hermione and Harry shouted back.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, his voice excited.

"I'm sure," Hermione said quietly, tightly gripping the back of the chair in front of her. She was too worked up to sit down. "He told me over and over again."

"The horse?" Ron asked.

"He's a unicorn, Ronald!" Hermione corrected. "I'm the muggle—use the correct term!"

Ron huffed, sliding back against his chair. His eyes returned to his chess board.

"Just unicorn horn?" Harry asked quietly. "Just that, and we can kill Him?"

"Yes," Hermione replied. "We have to lure him outside the wards of Malfoy Manor. But if we can do that—we just have to kill Nagini. We can do that with unicorn horn. Then we can kill Him. For good."

"How do we get the horn?" Harry asked.

"He likes me. He likes Draco. We can get the horn, or the unicorn—I'm certain," Hermione said.

"Draco," Ron huffed.

"Yes. Draco," Hermione replied, slamming her palms down on the desk. "Draco. The man that I am in love with. You all better get used to it. Because I will leave."

She had said it. She had thought it, vaguely, mostly in passing, but now she'd actually said it. Would she leave with Draco?

Yes.

Yes.

Yes, she would.

She'd do everything she could. But ultimately, she'd run with Draco.

Harry stared at her, almost if he didn't recognize her. "Astoria woke up today."

Astoria. She'd forgotten about Astoria. Draco, she knew, had not.

"Is she okay?" Hermione asked.

"She's out of it," Harry replied. "But okay."

"She's okay?" Hermione repeated.

Harry nodded. "She's okay."

"I have to go," Hermione said immediately.

"Hermione, we don't have a plan—" Harry began.

"We won't ever have a plan without Draco," Hermione replied. Unicorn horn—that's our end. Now I need to make sure Draco talks to Astoria."

"Of course," Ron muttered.

"Shut up," Harry said and Hermione said.

"Unicorn horn," Harry murmured, grinning. "I'm sure I can lure Him out. You just have to provide the unicorn."

Hermione grinned back. "I think I can do that."

"Go, Hermione. I have some thinking to do," Harry said.

Hermione looked to Ron, who was eyeing his chess board intensely. She looked back to Harry who merely nodded.

Astoria was awake and Hermione's heart was pounding as she returned to her room.

Draco appeared to have been waiting for her, sitting on the edge of the bed. He frowned as soon as he saw her face. "Now what?" he asked."

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's nothing like that." She took several steps toward him. "Astoria's awake."

Draco stood immediately. "What? When?"

"I think just now," Hermione replied.

"I need to see her."

Hermione nodded. "I know. You should go."

Draco stared at her. "I need you to come with me," he said softly.

"Draco, I know you didn't have sex with her. I'm not jealous anymore."

He looked pained. "I know. Can you just—please come with me. I need you."

I need you.

Hermione softened, relaxing despite the intensity of the day. "Yes, of course, I'll come with you."

He took her hand, twining their fingers together. "I also don't know my way to the infirmary," he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes but squeezed his hand, leading him from their room and out into the hall and towards the infirmary. She was about to open the door when Draco tugged at he hand. She paused, looking up at him questioningly. "She has…very sharp nails."

"Draco," she said, questioningly.

"I don't want her to hate me," he said.

"She was spy, too, Draco," Hermione replied gently. "She'll understand."

He nodded, but his grip on her hand tightened.

She was once again reminded that he didn't have a lot. He didn't have a lot of people who cared about him—but Astoria seemed to be someone he cared about. He didn't want her to hate him. Hermione pushed the door to infirmary open and pulled him inside

The infirmary was empty except for one bed, which was occupied by a pretty blonde. Theo was sitting next to her, speaking softly. Astoria immediately detected that someone new had entered the room, and her narrowed gaze reminded Hermione of Draco. "Theo told me you were here. But I doubted it," she said as soon as her eyes found Draco.

"Hello, Astoria," Draco said. "Would Theo lie to you?"

Her face softened. "No, he wouldn't." Astoria's gaze shot to Hermione. "I know you."

"Hogwarts," Hermione said quietly.

"Well, of course, Hogwarts," Astoria replied, rolling her eyes. "That narrows it down."

Hermione stayed quiet, looking towards Draco as he watched Astoria absently played with her blanket. She caught his gaze—Astoria's nails. Ripped and torn, almost to the quick. Uneven, like they'd been dragged against a surface.

Like she'd been tortured.

Because she had been.

"Theo told me you were a spy, too, you know," Astoria said after a moment. "I didn't believe him."

Draco released her hand and Hermione let him go. He sat down at Astoria's bedside and she took several steps backs, wanting to give them privacy. I'm so, so sorry," he said quietly.

Astoria burst into tears. "I knew you were good, Draco. I always knew you were good. I doubted it for a minute—but—I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Stori," Draco said quietly. "I would've doubted me, too."

Astoria nodded and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "Granger," she said suddenly. "It's Granger, isn't it? Gryffindor's genius?"

Hermione nodded jerkily. "I guess—If that's what they call me."

"That's what we called you in my year. You're annoying."

Hermione felt her ears burn. "I can be, yes."

"You're a know-it-all."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, wincing.

"We're all here now. So then, you know how to kill Him?" Astoria asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Actually, yes," Draco replied.

Astoria glared at him. "I was talking to Granger. Not you. I am angry with you, Draco."

Draco was very slowly turning pink. Hermione couldn't resist—she reached out for his fingertips, squeezing the digits gently. Astoria's eyes caught the movement immediately, narrowing further before widening in understanding. "We have an idea, yes," Hermione said

"I always knew you'd be interesting one, Granger," Astoria said, waggling her dark blonde brows. "Count me in."

Hermione grinned back at Astoria. "Consider yourself in."

a/n: Apologies for the delay. Life happens sometimes, and this chapter morphed into a monster. Hopefully 25 will be out sooner. Fear not, I have not forgotten you all. Drop me a review?