"What?" Draco asked with raised brows.
"I mean, think about it," Hermione said. "There's four of us in the prophecy. Harry is the one with the power. You're the one who's going to kill Him. I'm the one who's supposed to figure it all out—and I think I have." Hermione paused, swallowing. "We know the unicorn is how we destroy the Horcrux. Astoria is the only one without a role, and clearly, he doesn't want me riding him," she continued, gesturing at the unicorn.
"I'm surprised," Draco said quietly, rubbing at the unicorn's forehead. "He likes you so much."
"That has nothing to do with it," Hermione replied seriously.
As if agreeing, the unicorn turned away from Draco and gave his full attention to Hermione. Absently, she stroked his mane.
"Tell me, Draco. If it was supposed to be me—how well would that go? Imagine me riding off on a unicorn to destroy a Horcrux."
"Over my dead body," Draco replied, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Exactly," Hermione said, nodding. "And I need you fully focused if you're going to kill Him. Not worried about me. Not worried about a Horcrux, because you cannot—will not," she corrected, when Draco raised a skeptical brow at her, "be responsible for both. Not to mention—I can't even properly ride a broom, much less a unicorn."
"Astoria rode horses, when she was younger," Draco said slowly.
The unicorn bobbed his head, almost if he were agreeing with Draco, before resting his chin on Hermione's shoulder. She rubbed at the soft skin of his muzzle. "See? It has nothing to do with his love for me," she replied. "It's a practicality."
Draco rubbed irritably at his brow. "We need Astoria. It'll make our prophecy leak easier, too."
George merely shrugged. "I'll get her," he said. "Hermione has probably lost apparition privileges to the safe house just from general pettiness. And well, mate, you never had privileges to begin with." George paused, grinning bitterly. "And me? Well, they probably never even thought to ban me."
Draco raised his brows. "Think you could do it now?" he asked.
George shrugged. "What else have we got to do but watch the telly?"
Draco nodded, then swallowed. "She likes Muggle movies," he said. "I don't know if anyone but me and Theo know that. Tell her about that. Tell her that we have a telly."
It would have made Hermione jealous, before. Her jealousy had ebbed and flowed, truly. Sometimes it would crest and then slam into her like she was the shore at Brighton Beach after a nasty storm. Other times, it would roll in so gently it would tickle her toes and then disappear entirely. It had always come in waves, though. She'd convince herself she wasn't jealous, only to find her jealousy creeping up on her once again.
But Draco had proven himself time and time again. He wanted her, and only her.
He'd made that clear. But perhaps Hermione hadn't been listening. She was listening now.
George quickly stood. "I'll go now."
It had only been a day, but already Hermione could see a change in George. He was more serious. He was helpful. She'd seen how toxic the Order had become, and she wondered how much that had to do with George's drunkenness, with his bitterness.
"You sure?" Draco asked seriously.
"Yes," George replied, just as seriously.
Hermione watched as Draco led George just beyond the wards. "This tree, mate," he said. "I'm not adding anyone to the wards, but apparate here and we'll let you right in."
"Be back," George said, grinning, before promptly disappearing.
"Was that a bad idea, you think?" Hermione asked, hooking her fingers through the belt loops of Draco's trousers.
"He's mostly sober. So only a mildly terrible idea, perhaps," Draco replied thoughtfully.
George was back within minutes, appearing right next to the tree. His fingers were wrapped tightly around Astoria's elbow. "Hang on," he said, sounding exasperated.
Only a mildly terrible idea, then.
"Let me go!" Astoria cried, attempting to jerk away from George.
Draco flinched against Hermione and she instantly let him go. The commotion between George and Astoria promptly spooked the unicorn, who immediately disappeared back into the forest.
Hermione knew he'd be back, though.
As soon as Astoria saw Draco, her struggle with George promptly ceased. Her eyes widened in surprise. She turned to George, glaring at him. "You let me think I was being kidnapped!"
"I told you we had a telly!" George protested.
"That doesn't mean anything!" Astoria shouted back. "I thought I was about to be married off!"
Draco stared at George with a raised brow. "I told you to mention Muggle movies so she would know it was me, you dummy."
"Well, he didn't!" Astoria exclaimed. "He just grabbed me by the elbow and said, 'we have a telly!' and suddenly I'm in the middle of nowhere."
Draco sighed. "Great job, George," he said, closing his eyes in frustration.
"Okay, really now, let go of me," Astoria repeated, wrenching her elbow from George's grasp. Unhanded, Astoria smiled. "Hi, Draco. Hi, Granger."
"Hi, Astoria," Hermione and Draco replied in unison. Hermione had taken several steps forward to place a comforting hand on the small of Draco's back. He leaned minutely into her touch.
"So," Astoria continued after a moment. "What am I doing here?" She furrowed her brows and stared back at Draco. Then her eyes narrowed. "Actually, what are you lot doing here?" she asked. "Does the Order know you're all out here in the middle of the woods?"
Hermione looked to Draco, not really knowing how to explain. He quirked an unhelpful brow at her.
When no one answered immediately, Astoria continued to ramble: "Are we triple agents, then?" she asked. "Or are you going to kill me?" She sighed. "Fine, get on with it, then. At least it will get me away from Weasley and his chess board."
"What's a triple agent?" George asked. "How would that work?"
"Don't actually know," Astoria replied. "But it sounds fun, right?"
"More fun than chess," George agreed, nodding.
"Gods, does he ever stop?" Astoria asked, turning back towards George.
I think I like Astoria, Ron had told her. It very much seemed like the feeling was not mutual. Hermione looked back at Draco, who was staring at her with a raised brow and a smirk.
"Nope," George replied. "It's annoying, isn't it?"
Hermione briefly narrowed her eyes at Draco. What? she asked.
"It's obnoxious," said Astoria.
Draco's eyes shot to where George and Astoria were standing next to the tree. Them, he replied.
Hermione rolled her eyes. They had very much gotten off topic.
Draco jerked his head up slightly, his eyes turning hard once more. "Astoria," he said seriously. "We have—a semblance of plan."
"A semblance of a plan?" she asked skeptically.
Draco shook his head, sighing. "We're still in the process of figuring things out. But I promise you that our plan is better than Potter's plan."
Astoria still looked skeptical. "Was Potter's plan to wing it?" she asked.
"It was," Draco replied.
"Gryffindor idiots," she muttered. "No offense to you, Granger. You seem quite reasonable."
Hermione shook her head. "None taken," she replied quietly.
"We have a job for you," Draco continued.
"A job?" Astoria asked. "And who is we? This feels super off the books."
"We're the rebels," George replied, grinning.
Astoria tilted her head, then shrugged. "Cool," she said.
"You wanted to help kill Him, right? Well, how do you feel about riding a unicorn?" Draco asked.
Astoria smiled. "Even cooler," she murmured.
Draco smirked. "Great," he replied. "You get to kill the fucking snake, then."
Astoria raised a brow. "Nagini?" she asked. "Why's she important? And a unicorn, no less?"
Draco's smirk widened, and Hermione fought the urge to kiss it and see how it tasted. "She's the Horcrux, Stori."
"The snake? You're joking." Astoria replied.
Draco shook his head. "Afraid not."
Astoria narrowed her eyes. "You still haven't explained what's going on here. Does the Order know about this? That you're gone?" she asked.
"The Order is so far up its own ass that it can't tell left from right. And it's going to get everyone killed, so the Order can fuck right off, as far as I'm concerned," Draco sneered.
Draco wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist, pulling her into him. She wasn't even sure he was conscious that he'd even done it. Hermione rested her palm against his chest.
"So…you're deserters?" Astoria asked, seemingly confused.
"No—" Hermione began emphatically.
"—We're the ones who are going to get this shit done," Draco finished.
"Cool," Astoria repeated, grinning. "Well, count me in."
"You're kind of a badass, aren't you?" George asked.
Astoria shrugged nonchalantly. "Nearly got myself murdered a while back. Had my whole pelvis regrown."
It was Hermione's turn to look at Draco. Ew, she said.
He raised his eyebrows at her.
"Do they always do that?" Astoria asked, motioning towards Hermione as Draco.
"Bizarre innit?" George replied, grinning.
"Very," Astoria agreed.
"I swear I've watched them have entire conversations while they make moon eyes at each other," George continued.
"Gross," said Astoria, quirking her lip.
Hermione sighed. "Enough," she said quietly. "This is serious. Can we take it as such?"
"Serious Granger," Astoria said, unseriously.
"Stor, knock it off," Draco replied, his expression stony.
Him. On Hermione's side. Always.
"Sorry," Astoria mumbled.
"It's fine," Hermione replied. "We all need a bit of levity from time to time." Hermione looked to George, who promptly shut his mouth. "But this is—this is important. And to answer your question properly, Astoria, yes the Order knows we're—well, that we're gone. But we're not deserters. We're still working for them. Just not—there."
Astoria nodded thoughtfully. "Everyone there is just—miserable," she said quietly. "Has it always been like that?"
"Not always," George replied solemnly. "But for a long time now. Worse since Hermione and Malfoy came along."
Draco's arm curled further around Hermione's waist and she wanted nothing more than to lean into him—bury herself in him—and forget about the rest of the world. "It's not our fault," Hermione said defensively.
George looked at her seriously. "I never said it was," he replied quietly. "But you two immediately saw the problems and weren't afraid to call them on their bullshit."
"Oh," Hermione said, surprised.
"I didn't even want to be there in the first place, you know," Astoria continued. "I was content spying and when I finally got sold, I was going to snap my husband's neck and promptly disappear."
"Thank gods it wasn't me," Draco said.
"I wouldn't have killed you, Draco," Astoria replied sweetly, grinning. "I'd have just paralyzed you.
"Reassuring," Draco muttered.
Hermione's grip on Draco tightened. No one hurt Draco. Draco was hers.
"Gods, Granger," Astoria said, seriously. "I was joking." Astoria turned back to George. "No, really. Are they always like this?"
"Hey—" Draco began.
George nodded. "They seem to like each other a fair bit. Murder people for each other, seems like."
Astoria narrowed her eyes at George. "You're very strange," she said.
"You're pretty," George replied.
Astoria's eyes widened. "Thank you," said said quietly. "We don't have to play chess, do we?"
"I never moved past checkers," George replied.
"Serious business," Draco repeated, his eyes narrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. "We're trying to kill the Dark Lord here."
Astoria blinked slowly. Once, then twice. "I'm serious, Draco," she said quietly.
"Are you, George?" Draco continued.
"I'm serious," George said, his normal levity absent.
"We can laugh later. We'll all drink George's swill by the fire and joke, but we have to have a conversation now."
"Draco, I'm listening," Astoria replied earnestly.
"I don't mean to be harsh here," Draco continued. "But we have limited time before we have to get you back to the Order, Stori."
"Like hell I'm going back. This git kidnapped me," Astoria replied sternly, motioning towards George. "I'm staying."
Draco looked at Hermione. She thought for a moment. Another person. Another spy. Astoria could be useful, here. At the Order, she'd just be stuck playing chess with Ron. Hermione's lip quirked.
Perhaps it was cruel of her, but Hermione certainly had a reason to be cross with Ron at the moment. Moreover, she liked Astoria. She was funny, and good-natured. Draco cared about her, and George seemed to have a bit of a crush on her himself. And if there was one Weasley Hermione was currently rooting for, it was George.
Hermione nodded. She can stay, she said.
"Use words, people!" Astoria exclaimed.
"You can stay," Draco replied slowly. "This one might have to cast an extension spell," he said, motioning towards Hermione. "Otherwise, you'll be sleeping on the floor. But you can stay."
Astoria merely shrugged. "Slept worse places."
"You can have my room," George blurted immediately.
Astoria stared at George, a bewildered expression on her face. Briefly, her expression flickered—softening somewhat, before hardening again. She shrugged. "It's no skin off my back, Weasley."
"I was just offering," George murmured, looking at his feet.
Hermione looked to Draco, and their eyes met again, narrowing at exactly the same time.
"You guys really think that we can win?" Astoria asked quietly.
"I know we can," Hermione replied.
"I'm going to kill Him, Stori," Draco said confidently.
"I knew you hated the dinner parties. I just didn't know how much," Astoria murmured.
Draco shook his head. "It's not just the dinner parties, and you know it. It's my—whole fucking life." His fingers flexed into a fist. "It's my parents. It's my house. It's my money." He paused. "It's everything," he said quietly. "It's Granger. If He ever touches her, I'll blow up the entire planet."
"Draco—" Astoria began, cautiously.
"What?" Draco interrupted. "I want a life, too, just for once, Astoria. I want it with it her." He motioned to Hermione.
"Draco, calm down," Hermione said quietly.
He was her very nice, very dangerous boy. Threatening to blow the world up for no reason.
He was threatening to blow it up for her.
"I know, Draco," Astoria said softly. "You know I know better than anyone."
Draco nodded sharply. Beneath Hermione's fingers, his body was tense.
He was angry. Of course he was. His life hadn't been fair in years.
Not since the day he'd been Marked by Voldemort. Not a second since then.
George took a few steps forward, facing Draco directly. "At the final battle, if anyone touches Hermione, I will curse them to hell and back," he said quietly. "That's a promise."
Draco blinked. Once, then twice. The tension in his body faded away. His lip quirked. "That's a promise you better keep, Weasley."
"I will," George said seriously. "I don't make them lightly.
"We aren't all going to live, Granger," Astoria said quietly. "Is what I've taken away from this."
For the first time, Hermione registered that Draco was going to try to kill Voldemort, and he could very well die in the process.
She felt cold.
Hermione remembered the first time she had hit Draco. She had slapped him across the face in third year, and she could still how satisfied she had been as her palm connected with cheek, causing him to stumble back with wide eyes. She'd very nearly hit him again at the time.
The second time, it had been his knee and he'd forgotten about it entirely, because he'd just wanted to kiss her.
He'd already been hurt too much. How had she ever been someone who had hurt him?
How much more hurt would there be?
"We're all getting through this," George said confidently.
Draco's eyes were fixed on her face, and she could barely breathe. She couldn't—she needed—she needed Draco. Away from everyone else.
Why hadn't she realized he could die?
He'd expected it years ago, of course.
"Draco?" she said quietly. "A moment?"
He nodded briefly before following her into the tent and into their tent. As soon as the door closed behind them, she wrapped her arms around him. He pulled her into him. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly, stroking her back.
"I didn't—I hadn't thought—"
Draco seemed to understand immediately. He sighed, kissing the top of her head.
Hermione held him tighter. "No," she said decisively.
"Hermione—" he began.
"—No," she interrupted. "I've told you before that you're not allowed to die. That's a nonnegotiable. And I swear to gods, if you die, I will break up with you."
"Hey," he said quietly, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "I'm not planning on dying. I've meant every word I've said to you. But—you have to know it's a possibility."
Of course it was a possibility. She wasn't naïve. She just hadn't stopped for a single moment to even consider it. Draco—dead. Beaten by Voldemort. "No," she said repeated stubbornly.
Draco chuckled. "Your stubbornness will keep me alive, Hermione, if nothing else will."
"It's not funny, Draco."
"It's not. I'm sorry," he agreed, rubbing comforting circles into her spine.
"If you die," she said quietly, "I'll blow up the entire planet."
"You could do it with merely a glance, love," Draco replied.
"Stop trying to be funny."
"All right," Draco agreed, remaining quiet as he held her. "Come on, we need to get back," he said after several minutes.
She nodded against his shoulder. "One more minute?"
"Yeah, all right," he said, stroking her hair. He kissed her forehead. "I love you. If I can make this world a better place for you, I'll do it."
She knew that meant him dying, if it came to that. Why hadn't she realized that before? That had always been Draco.
He pushed himself through exhaustion, through torture, through starvation, through death and murder and loss and all the pain that he had ever been put through. That was Draco, after all.
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut against his chest. She loved him. She loved him so much that the idea of him dying was killing her.
It's not happening, she told herself. He's strong and capable and smart. He's one of the best wizards you've ever met.
He wasn't going to die.
Because she believed in him. Once again, she realized, he needed her to believe in him. She tilted her face towards his and gently kissed the corner of his mouth. "I believe in you, Draco," Hermione said quietly. "I'll always believe in you."
He tilted her chin upwards, kissing her solidly on the mouth. "That means the world to me, Hermione. You have no idea."
"You don't get to die," she said. "Not yet."
"No," he agreed. "We're going to have a hundred more years of you telling me not to try and be funny, and me rolling my eyes because you're too godsdamned stubborn."
"Sounds perfect," Hermione said.
He grinned. "It does, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," Hermione agreed quietly. "We're going to grow old together."
"You're going to watch me lose all my hair," Draco replied, nodding.
"No, you have the good hair genes," she argued. "But it stays short. No ridiculous pony tails."
"Agreed," he said, grinning. "Ready now, love?"
"Yeah," Hermione agreed. She wanted nothing more than to bury herself in his arms, but there would be time for that later. When he killed Voldemort, and he lived.
When they lived.
Draco touched the small of her back. "Come on," he said quietly.
They found George and Astoria sitting next to the unlit campfire, talking in hushed tones. As Hermione and Draco approached, George and Astoria turned. "I was filling her in," George explained. "Thought you two could use a break from the same old song and dance."
Hermione felt a flood of relief. Because, yes, she was tired of explaining the same thing over and over again.
"Also, I thought you guys were probably having sex," he continued.
"Oh, for fucks' sake, Weasley," Draco muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"George—" George reminded him.
"If you talk like a bonehead, I'll talk to you like you're a bonehead," Draco interrupted harshly.
"Fair enough," George agreed, grinning.
"How far have you gotten?" Draco asked.
"Pretty much to the end," George replied. "At least of what I know. Also, we have a visitor."
"What?" Draco asked harshly.
George jerked his head towards the clearing. "Harry," he said. "Been there about twenty minutes."
Hermione looked up. It was true; Harry was standing in the clearing, his hair tousled, and his eyes wide.
She'd known that he'd find her this time.
"Want me to tell him to piss off?" Draco asked, looking down at her.
Hermione shook her head. "No," she said quietly.
"Are you going to talk to him?"
"I told him to find me, didn't I?"
"Doesn't mean you have to talk to him."
"I think I should."
"Whatever you want, Hermione," Draco replied, shrugging.
The choice was hers to make.
"Go talk," George urged. "I'll tell Astoria everything she needs to know."
Hermione looked at Draco, who merely nodded. Come with me? she asked. He nodded again, following her as she stepped outside of her wards. "Harry," she said quietly.
Draco was silent, his glare hard.
"We need to talk," Harry replied.
"Yes," Hermione agreed. Her stomach was fluttering with nerves.
"Maybe without him?" Harry asked, gesturing towards Draco.
"No," Draco said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.
"No," Hermione agreed. "He stays."
Harry sighed. "Fine."
"Talk," Hermione said shortly.
"Come back."
"No," she replied.
"Hermione—"
"She said no, Potter," Draco growled.
"Are you looking for trouble, Malfoy?" Harry asked. "Because I have not had a very good day."
Draco smirked. "Perhaps I am," he said, taking a step towards Harry. "Your day is no concern of mine. Maybe today is the day I break your nose. Just for fun."
"Draco, stop it," Hermione said, clutching his arm.
Draco stopped in his tracks.
"This is why I wanted a conversation without him," Harry said, looking directly at Hermione.
"Believe me, you're getting off easy," she replied. "He was threatening to blow up the planet earlier."
"What?"
Draco nodded. "Sure was."
Hermione ignored him. "I'm not coming back, Harry," she said quietly. "I'm unhappy. I'm more than unhappy—I'm miserable, and I'm killing myself." She swallowed. "You are, too. I tried to take over for you, but—everything. All of it. The Order is toxic, Harry. It's not going to work. It will never work the way it is now."
"So that's it, then?" Harry asked bitterly.
Hermione shook her head. "I told you before that it wasn't. I'm still working—I'm still trying. We have—something. I just—I can't be there, Harry. Not now."
"So, all these years? All this time? I thought we were best friends. Is that just—over now?" Harry asked.
Hermione's stomach dropped. All those years—except the two where everyone thought she was dead. It was a searing, burning pain deep in her gut. She had the the urge to slap him, because she had never given up on him.
Draco took several steps forward, his face hard. "She told you she had a something and you didn't even ask about it. Come back when your priorities are sorted," he said coldly. "Otherwise, I will break your nose. Just to hear the crack."
Hermione didn't even bother to try and restrain Draco. He had a point. Harry hadn't even asked.
"Mate, you need to back off," Harry replied harshly.
Draco took several more steps forward. "I am not your mate," he said cruelly. "And it's you who needs to back off."
"Not unless Hermione tells me to leave," Harry replied, taking another step towards Draco. They were so close they were nearly touching.
"If this is the reason that you're here, then you should leave," Hermione said tonelessly. "This is pointless. That's exactly what I've been trying to say this entire time. And you still don't get it, Harry. Until you do, this is a waste of everyone's time."
"I don't—what am I supposed to get?" Harry asked.
"She told you, mate," Draco replied mockingly. "Just the other day. Or did you forget? The infighting. The fact that everyone is obsessed with hating their resident Death Eater instead of killing the Dark Lord. Until that's resolved, and until people stop fucking touching her, she's not coming back. Neither am I, neither is George or Astoria. We work from here from now on."
Harry glared at Draco, his lips set into a a straight line.
Draco didn't relent. "We are all still firmly aligned with the Order. Our goals are the same. But we work separately until Hermione decides otherwise."
Harry clenched his jaw, staring at Hermione. "Since when have you let other people speak for you?" he asked.
"Since he's the only one who actually listens to me, Harry," Hermione replied quietly.
Harry shook his head. "You're making a mistake, Hermione," he said quietly.
Draco took another step forward. "You've already made a mistake, Potter. I urge you to get out of here before you make another one, and I make you regret it."
"Are you threatening me, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed.
Draco's answering smirk was dangerous. It reminded Hermione of the Death Eater that had threatened Marcus Flint outside of his flat. "Perhaps I am, Potter," he replied. "You didn't come here to listen to what Hermione has to say. You came here for a fight. Well, I'll bloody well give you one."
Hermione took several steps forward and placed her palm on Draco's forearm. "That's enough," she said quietly. "But he's right, Harry. I told you I had information and you didn't even ask. The fight is more important, and I think you should leave. Come back when you've calmed down."
"Hermione—" Harry began.
"I think you should leave, Harry," George interrupted. "Nothing productive is going to come from this."
"Could be interesting, though," said Astoria. "Been a while since I've see Draco hit someone."
"Astoria," George said harshly, his tone surprising Hermione.
"Sorry," she replied quietly.
Hermione ignored them. She could feel tears pricking in her eyes. She forced herself to look at her best friend, barely recognizing him. "We'll talk later, Harry," she said quietly.
"Hermione—" Harry tried again, looking devastated.
"She told you to go, Potter," Draco growled.
Hermione could tell that his patience had worn thin, and he was on the verge of snapping if Harry didn't leave immediately. "Go, Harry," she repeated gently, not meeting his eyes.
Harry stood still for several moments before nodding jerkily. He disappeared as suddenly as he came. George and Astoria had disappeared, too, leaving Hermione and Draco alone in the clearing.
Draco gently squeezed her shoulder, and when he spoke, all of the previous malice had disappeared from his voice: "Are you all right?" he asked gently.
Hermione shook her head. "No," she replied quietly. "I'm not okay."
Draco sighed as if had expected as much. "Come here," he said, pulling her into his arms. "Potter's a prat. Doesn't think much before he jumps into action. He'll calm down."
"Everything's so messed up," Hermione replied, tears spilling onto his shirt. "How did things get so bad?"
"Death will take a lot out of a man," Draco said. "Being a soul shard and all." He sighed. "And Potter isn't as lucky as us."
Hermione stared up at him. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"He's alone, too. Like you and I were. Like George was. You and I have each other. George has us now, and potentially Astoria." He grimaced. "What does Potter have?"
"He had me," Hermione replied quietly.
Draco shook his head. "It's not enough and you know it. No person can carry that burden alone."
"Ginny could help him," she said quietly.
"I think he needs her. He needs something." He broke off, sighing. "The way I needed you."
"When did you get so insightful?" Hermione asked. She stared up at Draco, blinking slowly. "You provoked him on purpose."
Draco smirked at her. "Emotions running high. He might do something impulsive, like go to the girl."
"Draco—" Hermione began, stunned at what he had just tried to do for Harry.
He interrupted her with a half-hearted shrug. "I've already got my girl. Call me a hopeless romantic." He grinned at her. "You wanted to play matchmaker, remember? Figured I could help. Even better if I can piss Potter off in the meantime."
Hermione touched his chin with the tips of her fingers. "I don't think you'll ever stop surprising me," she said quietly.
"I hope not," Draco replied. "I just promised you a hundred years. Shame if things were to get boring."
"Draco—"
"I know, I know. Stop trying to be funny," he said, rolling his eyes.
She smiled at him. He was funny.
"I wasn't being entirely selfless," Draco admitted quietly. "I want to win, Hermione. You know that. I want to beat Him. I want a life with you. And for that to happen we have to have Potter." He paused, then swallowed. "The real Potter—not the shell that he's become."
Hermione nodded. "I know," she replied. "I know."
a/n: With the new year comes renewed inspiration. Let me know your thoughts. I always appreciate them!