Lucius's POV

The firelight flickered against the dark wood of my study, casting long shadows across the room. The walls, lined with ancient tomes and relics of a proud, powerful lineage, now felt hollow.

Because my son—my heir—had disgraced all of it.

And I still hadn't found him.

I took a slow breath, my fingers drumming against the armrest of my chair, my patience wearing thin.

Across from me, a cloaked figure stood rigidly, his head bowed in deference. He had brought another lead. Another possibility.

Another failure.

"They were spotted outside London last week," the man reported, his voice measured, cautious. "But the trail went cold again. They are moving carefully, sir. They know how to cover their tracks."

I clenched my jaw.

"They are children," I spat. "How difficult can it be to track two reckless fugitives?"

The man hesitated. "It is not just them, my Lord. There is… interference."

I narrowed my eyes. "Interference?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "We believe someone is helping them. Hiding them."

My fingers tightened around my cane. "Who?"

"We are still investigating, but we suspect it is a Muggle contact. They have been staying off the grid, avoiding wizarding areas altogether."

A Muggle.

My lip curled in disgust.

Draco had not only betrayed his family, his name, and his future—he had lowered himself to hide among them.

The insult burned deep.

I took a slow breath, reining in my rage. This was not the time to lose control.

Not yet.

"If they think they can run forever," I murmured, my voice a dangerous whisper, "they are mistaken."

I stood abruptly, turning toward the map laid out on my desk. Various locations had been marked—safehouses, known contacts, possible destinations.

I tapped my wand against the parchment, watching as a small section of the map flickered—one of the last known locations where they had been seen.

"London was a mistake," I said coldly. "They got too close to being caught."

Which meant—

"They'll move again," I continued, my mind working quickly. "Somewhere smaller. A town. A place they think we won't look."

The man nodded. "We have increased surveillance on all wizarding areas, but they have not surfaced. If they are hiding with Muggles, it may take longer to locate them."

I exhaled sharply, my grip tightening on my cane.

"Then we widen the search," I commanded. "Every resource, every informant. I want eyes in every Muggle district. Every shop. Every station. Everywhere."

The man hesitated. "Sir—"

I snapped my gaze to him.

"Find them," I hissed. "Or I will find you instead."

He flinched and bowed quickly. "Y-yes, my Lord."

As he hurried from the room, I turned back to the fire, my fingers tightening around the serpent handle of my cane.

Draco thought he was clever. He thought he was safe.

He was wrong.

I would find him.

And when I did, he would understand the true weight of his betrayal.

No matter how far he ran.

No matter who tried to protect him.

He belonged to me.

Draco's POV

The kiss hadn't left my mind since last night.

I had replayed it over and over—the way Hermione's breath had caught, the way her lips had softened against mine for just a moment before she pulled away.

I had kissed her.

And she had run.

I wasn't sure what I had expected. Acceptance? An embrace? Maybe something reckless and impulsive like the way we had escaped together. But instead, she had looked at me like she wasn't sure if she should be angry or terrified.

And now, as she stood in the kitchen the next morning, pretending to be focused on stirring her tea, I knew we needed to talk about it.

I leaned against the counter, watching her. "Are we just going to ignore it?"

Her hand tensed around the spoon, but she didn't look up. "Ignore what?"

I sighed. "Granger."

She exhaled, finally setting the spoon down. When she turned to face me, her expression was unreadable. "It was just a mistake, Malfoy."

I flinched, more than I wanted to admit.

"A mistake?" I repeated.

She swallowed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yes. We were caught up in the moment. It was nothing."

I studied her carefully. She was lying.

It hadn't been nothing.

But she was scared.

And for the first time, I realized why.

"This isn't about the kiss," I murmured, taking a step closer. "This is about them."

Her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching.

"You think if you let yourself feel something, they'll take it from you," I continued, my voice softer now. "Just like they've taken everything else."

She swallowed hard, looking away. "Draco—"

"I'm not them," I said firmly.

Her head snapped back up, her brown eyes flashing. "I know that."

"Do you?" I tilted my head, searching her face. "Really?"

She opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came out.

And that silence told me everything.

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "Look, I'm not asking for anything. I'm not expecting some grand confession. But don't stand here and pretend that nothing happened last night."

She stared at me, something unreadable in her gaze.

Then, finally, she whispered, "I don't know how to feel about it."

That, at least, was honest.

I nodded slowly. "Alright."

She bit her lip, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself like she was trying to hold herself together.

"Can we just…" She hesitated. "Be us? For now?"

I sighed but nodded. "Yeah. We can do that."

For now.

Because I knew one thing for certain—

No matter how much she tried to deny it, whatever this was between us… wasn't over.

Hermione's POV

Something felt off.

It was small at first—little things that could have easily been nothing. A man lingering outside the bookstore a little too long. A customer who seemed more interested in us than the books. The way the air felt heavier, like a storm brewing just beyond reach.

But I had learned to trust my instincts.

And my instincts were screaming.

"We need to move," I told Draco that night, pacing the living room.

He sat on the couch, arms crossed, watching me carefully. "You're sure?"

I turned to face him, my chest tight. "You know I am."

His jaw tightened. "We've only just started saving real money. We're finally getting stable—"

"Exactly," I cut in. "Which means they'll find us soon. We're predictable now, Draco. We need to leave before they catch up."

He exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair. I could see the war inside him, the part of him that wanted to stay, to pretend we had more time.

But we didn't.

"Fine," he muttered after a long pause. "Where?"

"A smaller town, close to London," I said immediately. "We need to stay near enough to resources, but far enough to avoid detection."

He nodded once. No argument.

Because he knew.

This was our only choice.

⸻

The hardest part was telling my aunt.

She stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself, her expression full of sorrow but not surprise.

"I knew this day would come," she murmured, shaking her head. "I just didn't want it to be so soon."

I felt a lump form in my throat. "I'm sorry."

She stepped forward, placing her hands on my shoulders. "Don't be, love. I just want you safe."

I swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. "I'll find a way to contact you. I promise."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, like she was fighting her own emotions.

Then, before I could say anything else, she pulled me into a tight hug.

"Be careful," she whispered. "And don't disappear completely. I'll always be here for you."

I nodded against her shoulder, squeezing my eyes shut.

She pulled back, then turned to Draco, who had been standing silently behind me.

To my shock, she stepped forward and hugged him, too.

Draco froze.

It was brief, but it was real.

When she pulled away, she gave him a knowing look. "Take care of her, Draco."

He swallowed, nodding. "I will."

And I believed him.

⸻

We left that night.

The train ride was quiet, the weight of everything pressing down on me. We had done this before—packed up, run, started over. But this time felt different.

More desperate.

More final.

The small town was exactly what we needed—quiet, tucked away, unremarkable. We found a small rental, nothing fancy, just enough to exist.

We had survived.

But the fear hadn't left me.

Something was still coming. I could feel it.

⸻

Draco's POV

Hermione had been tense all night.

Even after we had settled in, even after the train ride, the new place, the doors locked behind us—she was still on edge.

I could see it in the way her fingers curled into the sleeves of her sweater, the way her eyes darted toward the window as if expecting something to be there.

I hated seeing her like this.

"Granger," I said quietly, stepping closer.

She turned to me, her brown eyes wide with something that looked too much like fear.

Before I could say anything else, she moved.

And then—

She kissed me.

It wasn't soft like the first time. It wasn't hesitant.

It was desperate.

Her fingers tangled in my sweater, pulling me closer, and for a moment, my brain stopped working.

Then—instinct took over.

I kissed her back.

Harder.

Like I had been waiting for it.

Like I had wanted it longer than I was willing to admit.

Her breath hitched, and I pressed my hands against her waist, steadying her, grounding her.

This wasn't about romance.

This was about fear.

She needed something to hold onto. Something real.

And for some reason, in this moment, that something was me.

When she finally pulled back, her breathing was uneven, her hands still curled into my sweater.

Neither of us spoke.

Because we couldn't.

Because if we said anything, we would have to acknowledge what had just happened.

Instead, she swallowed hard and whispered, "We should get some sleep."

I nodded, my fingers still tingling where they had touched her.

"Yeah," I murmured. "We should."

But I knew—

Neither of us would be sleeping tonight.