Draco's POV

It was early morning when I woke to the sound of seagulls outside our window, the soft hush of waves crashing in the distance, and the warmth of Hermione curled into my side.

She was still asleep—her face soft, her lashes resting against her cheeks, and her curls fanned out over the pillow we shared. I didn't move. I didn't want to move. I just watched her breathe for a while, grounding myself in the stillness of this new life we were trying to build.

For the first time in months, the gnawing feeling of being hunted had dulled—just slightly. We were far enough. Disguised enough. Careful enough.

I slid out of bed gently, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder before heading to the small kitchenette. It still amazed me how peaceful this place was. The air smelled like salt and wildflowers. And the silence wasn't oppressive—it was freedom.

I made tea. Two cups. One with a splash of milk and honey—hers.

When I brought it back, she was awake, sitting up with the blanket pulled around her shoulders like a cocoon.

"You're going to spoil me," she teased, accepting the cup with a small smile.

"Maybe I want to," I said, sitting beside her.

She looked at me, serious now. "You don't have to do all of this just because you feel guilty for the past."

"I'm not," I said honestly. "I'm doing it because I want to be the kind of person who deserves you now."

Hermione's eyes softened, and she reached for my hand. "You already are."

We spent the day like we weren't fugitives—walking along the beach with scarves pulled over our faces and sunglasses covering our eyes. Laughing at the way the wind tried to steal Hermione's hair clips. Buying fresh bread from the local market and pretending, just for a little while, that we were just another couple, just another pair of lovers finding their way in the world.

That night, after dinner, we sat on the little balcony wrapped in one of the blankets, sharing a book between us, reading by candlelight when the electricity flickered.

Hermione rested her head against my shoulder.

"This," she whispered, "this almost feels like a real life."

I wrapped my arm tighter around her. "It is real. As real as anything has ever been."

And I meant it.

Because no matter where we were, or how far we had to run—if I had her, I had everything.

Hermione's POV

The days had fallen into a rhythm. Morning tea, walks along the rocky coast, afternoons spent reading or scribbling plans into a shared notebook Draco and I kept—notes about potential hiding places, code words, possible escape routes. We tried not to live in fear, but we couldn't afford to forget that danger still followed us like a shadow.

But tonight… something felt off.

We'd just finished dinner—simple vegetable stew and leftover bread—when I noticed it. A feeling in the air. Like the wind had changed direction.

Draco was laughing softly at something in the book he was reading, stretched out on the couch in his usual end-of-day sprawl. I was clearing the dishes, trying to shake the unease that had begun to settle in my bones.

I moved to the window and peered outside.

The street was quiet. Still. But not the usual kind of peaceful quiet. The kind that made your skin prickle.

A tall figure walked past across the road, wearing a hood.

It could've been anyone.

But the way they slowed near our window—how their head tilted slightly, like they were listening—made my blood run cold.

I stepped back quickly, pulling the curtain shut.

"Draco," I said quietly.

He looked up immediately, reading the tone in my voice before the words. "What is it?"

"I think someone might've been watching the house."

In a flash, the warmth in the room drained. Draco set the book aside and stood.

"You're sure?" he asked, already checking the wards we'd placed.

"No. But I've learned to trust my gut."

He nodded once. "We don't wait for confirmation. If they've found us—we're gone."

We moved like clockwork, grabbing the go-bags we'd packed weeks ago. My hands were steady, my heart less so. Draco cast a quick Disillusionment charm over both of us. The apartment shimmered in the last flicker of candlelight as we slipped out the back.

As we vanished into the shadows of the narrow street, I dared one glance back at the place that had almost felt like home.

I didn't know where we'd go next. Or how long we'd keep running.

But I did know one thing.

I wouldn't let them take me again.

And I wouldn't let them take Draco, either.