The cold marble floors were a relief from the burning pain coursing through her body after what felt like hours spent under the cruciatus curse. Hermione had been blindfolded shortly after the torture, heightening her senses to the smell of blood and dark magic that hung heavy in the air of the manor.
The sound of frantic footfalls coming closer caused her to crumple further into herself, crying softly. She braced herself for what was to come. To her relief, a familiar voice whispered in her ear.
“It’s okay, Granger, it’s me. I’m so —”
Warm fingers caressed her cheek, slipping under the blindfold and removing it. Terrified eyes roved over her face — they hadn’t seen each other in almost an entire year. Hadn’t shared the same breath since their last night together in the room of requirement.
“I'm so fucking sorry.”
Hermione gazed into his mercury depths, every feeling she had locked away came flooding back, bringing a faint smile to her cracked, bloodied lips.
“This isn’t how I pictured our reunion,” the words were painful to get out, the result of hours spent screaming and pleading. She lifted a shaking hand, tracing his bottom lip softly. Draco kissed her fingertips.
“I would have come sooner, had I known. The Dark Lord has been keeping me away from the manor, doing his dirty work.” Draco snaked an arm under her knees while his other cradled her neck. “Let’s get you cleaned up, I’ll tell mother to pass on that I’ve transported you back to the dungeons.”
With a small crack, Hermione found herself in an obsidian coloured room, draped in emerald and dark wood. After a quick scourgify her body was wrapped in soft silk, tucked under Draco’s duvet and in his arms.
“Thanks for not letting me die alone,” she breathed out, burying herself further into his chest.
“Gr-Hermione, you’re not going anywhere. I can fix this.”
Hermione knew her time was coming to an end. After her last attempt at escape and the brutal torture that followed — her magic had been severely depleted and she could not longer feel it replenishing. She had been pushed too far, brought to the brink of death too many times.
“It’s okay, Draco, you’re here with me. I’m just happy I get to see you, feel you again, before… before —” She was cut off by hasty kisses pressed to her lips, her nose, her eyelids, her forehead.
“I can’t live without you, Hermione. I won’t accept this meaningless existence, one where your heart is no longer beating. My soul belongs with yours.”
Hermione felt the light pull of magic stirring in her chest and her eyes shot open. “Draco, no, I won’t let you tether your soul to mine — it’s a death sentence for you.”
Draco took her hands in his, “My love, every choice has always been made for me. Let me have this, let me choose you.”
With the last of her magic and tears streaming down both their faces, they whispered the incantation that would forever bind their souls together. In this life, however brief, and the next.
They spent the passing hours recalling memories from happier times; the moment they realized their true feelings, how Draco had fallen first, the heated banter turned playful, stolen glances in classes, late nights spent lost in each other — mapping each other’s bodies and committing them to memory.
“In another life, I would have made you my wife. You’d be a world renowned Healer, perhaps I’d get a Potions mastery.
We could live in a small cottage in Folkestone…
you’d love the coast.”
Hermione kissed his wet lips. As much as she tried to hold on, she could feel herself slipping. With shallow breaths and blurry vision, she grasped his face and kissed him again.
“That sounds perfect,” she sighed, “I’ll look for you,
in another life, Draco. I promise. I love you.”
“I will find you in every lifetime, Hermione. I love you.”
As Draco watched the light leave her eyes, the heart wrenching silence that followed swallowed him whole. With one final kiss to her forehead, he was ready to join his witch.
“See you soon, my love.”
