All That You Are

Her legs were pounding against the marble floors, curses and hexes flying past her in vibrant colors as she tossed her own over her shoulder. The borrowed clothes are now baggy against her form, curls cascading down her back like a beacon for the man chasing them. The Death Eater chasing them. Yaxley’s eyes are feral, dark and hungry and focused solely on her. Ron is next to her, hand clasped onto her arm in a vice grip as he drags her towards the floo’s. Harry and Theo are waiting at the Manor, waiting for them to return. It wasn’t easy convincing them to allow her to go. Hermione had made an executive decision, and taken the Polyjuice Potion before Theo could and the argument ensued that they didn’t have any to waste. 

Hence why they were now being chased through the Ministry with a Death Eater on their tales. Hermione turns, yanking Ronald into the Floo and a gasp broke from her lips as the green flames yanked them inside. Ron was clutching violently to her, before another feeling of being yanked to the side happened on her left. Yaxley was clinging to her, a volatile expression written all over his face as Hermione tried to yank herself from his grasp. Ron was pushing him off of her, peeling his fingers off of her robes. A sudden realization dawned on her as they went to land in the Manor’s fireplace. Theo and Harry were here. They were bringing a Death Eater through the Wards. And they would allow him entry because he was with her. A thought broke into her mind and absent fingers reached to thumb the locket around her neck before she started to panic.  Her fingers brushed against the locket, desperately trying to rip it open. Everything was swirling and ripping around her, and she was faintly aware of Ronald and Yaxley wrestling. They were a tangle of limbs, and her mind drifted to Draco. Her finger pressed against the Portkey just as Ron managed to yank Yaxley off of her. The familiar tug in her navel was accompanied by the feeling of being ripped apart.

She landed roughly, her back slamming against the floor. Ron was across her legs, and she was aware of somebody screaming. She felt like she was on fire, every nerve and muscle felt like it was splitting in two. The whole room felt like it was rattling and then everything stilled. She wondered if she had died when she heard somebody talk, low and deadly. 

“Weasley.” 

Hermione couldn't feel anything other than the burning pain that was emanating from her torso, she attempted to roll over and heard somebody scream again. Then she realized that it was her. She was the one screaming. Suddenly there were hands on her, and she pried her eyes open to see gray steel staring back at her. 

“Granger, can you hear me? Fuck. MIP!” She thought she heard the pop of his house elf but the ringing in her ears made it difficult to tell. Then Draco's voice filtered through the fog again.  “I'm sorry darling. This is going to hurt.”

“Don't fucking touch her, Malfoy.” 

“You might want to refrain from raising your wand at me in my own home, Weasley. Especially when the woman I love is dying on my floor. I will not hesitate to kill you if you stop me from healing her again.” She felt his hands again and then she was screaming, her throat on fire before a cold hand clamped over her mouth. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” 

“What the fuck are you doing to her?” She was trying desperately to cling onto Ron and Draco’s voices instead of the pain that was tearing through her body. Ron sounded like he was in pain, and speaking through gritted teeth. 

“Weasley. Do you feel that tug in your stomach right now? Almost like you're about to get pulled from the house? If you don't shut the fuck up and give me five seconds then you'll be dragged down the steps in front of the Dark Lord. And trust me when I say that he would love Potter's right hand man on a silver fucking platter. I don’t reccommend that you want that considering your Splinched arm is bleeding all over my fucking floorboards.” 

It was silent and Hermione felt the cold of a Potion as it slid down her throat. “What–” 

“No. You're done. She's done. She's done being a fucking pawn that always ends up almost dying because none of you can manage to take care of her. Everything she fucking does for you guys.” His voice trailed off before the strangled growl rumbled from beside her.  “Here, catch, Weasel.” Hermione heard the faint pop of a Portkey as her vision started to fade, her eyelids fluttering closed with the vision of Draco’s terrified eyes burned into them.  “Rest, my love. I've got you. You're safe.” His voice was strangled and she let darkness pull her under. 

At this point, it welcomed her like an old friend.

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“I will say that the only man's name that I am okay with falling from your lips as you're fading out of consciousness that isn't mine, is your brother's.” Draco’s smooth drawl washed over her like a warm blanket as she blinked her eyes open.

Hermione smiled, attempting to pull herself to a sitting position. Draco’s eyes hardened and he immediately rested his hands on her shoulders, gently trying to keep her there. “I have to….”

“You don't have to do anything, Granger, except lie in my fucking bed and heal. I am barely restraining myself from hunting Potter and Weasley down and killing them right now. The image of you bleeding out on my bedroom floor is one I would love to never see again.” He closed his eyes and she almost shattered at the desperation in his voice as he begged. Malfoy men never begged. “Please.”

The words that he had uttered to her in the darkness of the room a month ago echoed in her head. 

“Do you have any idea how often I have had to sit next to a hospital bed and wait not knowing if you were going to wake up? Do you even fucking know how agonizing it is to sleep in the same bed that you have almost died in?”

“Draco…I have to get back to them. I have to let them know that I’m okay…they’re going to be freaking out…Yaxley-”

“-Yaxley what, Granger?” Draco’s voice was cold and deadly, a thick and heavy violence rolling off of him in the small room. Then he was leaning towards her, elbows resting on his knees in a way that was so poised that it would’ve fooled her if she didn’t see the rage barely contained in his features. 

“He uh…he had a hold of me when we left the Ministry. He was chasing us and casting curses trying to get to me. He managed to grab me and Ron tried to-to get him off of me. I didn’t have a choice, he saw where we were going and I didn’t have any other option. I just…I used to Portkey that you got me…it–I just wanted to go home.” She took in a ragged breath, lifting the cover as she winced at the small scar that was now on the side of her hip bone. It wasn’t huge, but every muscle was sore, and it looked horrendous, even with the copious amounts of Dittany that she was sure that Draco used. When her eyes flicked back to him, they were guarded, something flashing in them.

“Nothing that you say is going to diminish the fucking fear that latches itself onto me and digs itself into my bones every moment that you’re not here. If I could trap you in this room and never let you leave if only to ensure your safety I would because the thought of you hating me doesn’t hurt as bad as not knowing that you’re safe.”

His eyes were heavy, taking her in with a firm set of his jaw, an elegant finger tracing across his lips as he stared at her. Then suddenly, he was unfolding from the chair, standing carefully before leaning across the bed and pressing a firm kiss against her temple. “Draco? Where are you–”

Draco paused, his back towards her as he stood facing the door. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“Wha-”

“Yaxley. He’s on my list now.” Hermione shivered at the way that his voice was detached, empty. Cold. 

“Draco…listen to me..you don’t have to do this.” Every muscle in his body tensed, shoulders rolling as he stood to his full height, turning to face her.

He cocked his head to the side, regarding her with stormcloud eyes. Then, he leaned against the door, crossing his ankles as if the conversation was about what color they were changing the drapes. “Tell me, Granger, why shouldn’t I kill him? Hmm? Why shouldn’t I go over there and watch him be ripped open the same way that you were while you bled out on my floor because of him? You can’t convince me otherwise. Nothing that you say is going to convince me not to go over there and exact my revenge for touching what’s mine. I’m a selfish motherfucker, Granger. You should know that about me by now.”

She swallowed, confused by the sudden warmth coiling in her stomach at his declaration. Then, she was turning, attempting to swing her legs over the side of the bed before a growl and footsteps sounded beside her, a warning before two hands gripped her arm in a gentle but firm hold. “Let me go, Draco.”

“No, Granger. I already fucking told you what was going to happen if you wound up almost dying on me again.”

“If anything else happens to you…if you get hurt again…I promise that I don’t care how little you will think of me, I will ensure that I lock you in this damn room to make sure that you’re alive.”

Her chin tilted up in defiance. “You can’t lock me in this room forever, Draco. Because if for some reason he wins, and I appear after doing nothing as a supposed spy it will be suspicious. Top that off with killing Yaxley wherever he wound up, then it can compromise your position within his army and that puts you at risk.” Draco’s eyes clouded into a molten gray, a fire blazing deep within their depths.  

“I could care less about my position being compromised, Granger. I care about making a statement.”

“And what is that? Hm? Telling him that he doesnt matter, only I do? You putting me before his orders or his cause means that you are blatantly telling everybody that I am the way to get to you.”

Her eyes met his, and he set his jaw. “Let them try. I worship one thing in this world, Hermione, and I refuse to stand by and watch people try to tear down my only pillar of hope.” All of the air wooshed from her lungs at the impact of his words and he stared at her, eyes slowly softening as a finger came up to caress her cheekbone. “I love you, Granger.” Hermione leaned forwards, ignoring the inhale of pain that hissed through her teeth and pressed her lips softly to his. Silk against silk. When his fingers tangled into her hair and his lips stole the breath from her lungs a whimper left behind as he pulled away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She leaned back, tugging his hand gently with her as she slid back into the bed, his other hand helping position her carefully on the pillows. Reluctance clouded his features when she tried to tug him onto the bed. “It'll hurt me worse if you're right there and I can't touch you. Please. Take the pain away, Draco.” It was the only convincing he needed when he slipped under the covers and gently tugged her against his chest. 

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When he was satisfied that her breathing had evened out enough in sleep that she wouldn’t stir when he moved, he shuffled gently out from underneath their tangled limbs. Carefully, he laid her head against his pillow, glancing at the caramel curls spread out across his sheets, dark lashes against freckle dotted skin and petal pink lips parted daintily as she breathed. Breathed. She was still breathing. Watching her as the memory tugged at his consciousness, anger spread throughout his body, tingling the tips of his fingers and unfurling in his chest. Terror mingled into it so strong he could almost taste it on his tongue. With one last glance he stepped towards his door, lifting his wand and testing the wards, reinforcing them before slipping from the room to face his punishment. 

Well, not his specifically depending on how the situation was handled. Draco had to play his cards just right in order to hopefully gain the justice that he craved. Yaxley was going to die for making her almost die…again. Clasping his hands behind his back, and locking the door of his room, before making his way down the staircase just as his Dark Mark started to burn. He waited a moment, knowing that it would look too suspicious to enter the room immediately, but not long enough for him to seem insubordinate before entering. Dark Magic was thick in the air, clinging to every inch as it laid claim stealing the oxygen from the room. Voldemort was standing in front of the window, long gray robes covering his skeletal form, bald head shining and red eyes staring listlessly out the glass. Nagini was by his feet, spread out across the floor with her massive body still partly encircling the dias Voldemort usually sat at. 

“My Lord.” He used to shudder every time he entered this room, not anymore. There was very little that scared Draco anymore, after training with Bellatrix–and he knew that the product from which his fear stemmed from was tucked safely into his room and sound asleep. Draco stood there in silence, waiting for Voldemort to address him, waiting for him to inform him of the facts that he already knew. That didn’t matter though, Hermione had always been tucked away inside of his brain so tightly when she needed to be that he was sure he could make himself forget her if she wasn’t so deeply engraved into his soul. They stood like that for a while, before Voldemort broke the silence that had mingled with the lingering Dark Magic, turning to address him with blood red eyes. 

“Have you heard anything new from your betrothed?”

“I am supposed to receive correspondence tonight.” Draco lied effortlessly, the words rolling off of his tongue easily as he stared at the skeleton man standing in front of him with an air of indifference. Shallow, hollow, nothing. That was what you had to be to the Dark Lord–while somehow maintaining an air of importance. Just enough for him to not get rid of you. Just enough to matter to whatever it was that he needed you for. 

Bony fingers stretched out to settle on Nagini’s massive head, her eyes surveying him as though he was her next meal and he allowed the small shiver to run over him as Voldemort stared at him with approval. “I will need whatever information that you collect as soon as possible. Report here whenever you are finished–but young Malfoy, I must ask something of you as well.”

Draco tilted his head, nodding once as he met those dead red eyes. “Of course My Lord, what can I do to be of service?”

“I expect Yaxley to be with you when you report back to me.” Voldemort was studying him, red eyes running across his features as if waiting for him to disappoint. It was the same look he had given him when he assigned him the task for the Vanishing Cabinets. Draco nodded, waiting patiently for the disturbing hand to flick him away in dismissal before slipping through the doors and striding towards the grounds of the Manor. 

A flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he summoned his Death Eater robes, letting them drape over him without breaking his stride. As he broke from the Manor’s Wards, he spun to Apparate with the thought of revenge on his mind. 

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Theo Nott wasn’t one of violence. Not normally. He was somebody who had allowed himself to be beaten down again and again by a man that was so much weaker than him–a fact that he didn’t realize until he got older. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the rage to do something about it back then, because he definitely did. It was because he didn’t have anything worth harming somebody over. Draco protected him, and he had taken more than a few blows for him when something broke in the house and he covered for him, not wanting to lose the only sense of family that he had ever known. Or when Narcissa had healed him, teaching him Occlumency and healing spells. Theo had protected them just as fiercely as they had protected him. Yet none of that compared to Hermione. Knowing that he had a sister that had wedged herself so deeply into a heart that he was sure wouldn’t have space for anybody else was unexpected. And somehow, within that room–Blaise had managed to find a way through his defenses as well, sneaking in with Hermione when he didn’t even notice. Although, to be fair–he was almost positive that Blaise and Pansy had been there to begin with just not as prominent.

Theo hadn’t taken the Dark Mark yet. Draco had somehow managed to talk Voldemort into assuring that he proved his loyalty as a spy before letting him get the Mark–that it would be difficult for Harry Potter to trust somebody with a brand on their arm. Theo had never been one for violence. Not causing it at least, until he found Yaxley tumbling through his fireplace, covered in blood and raising a surprised wand towards him. The violence was swimming beneath the surface then, simmering as Harry quickly disarmed the man, and bound him rendering him unable to summon the Dark Lord or kill them. It wasn’t until Ron had popped into the room, clutching a Port Key and looking extremely disoriented and rather pale, as he bled all over his fathers Persian rug. It had come when Ron uttered Hermione’s name before passing out and leaving Theo terrified and scrambling to assess the redhead wizard’s damage and save his life. 

When he had managed to pour enough Dittany onto the wound and save him from losing his arm or bleeding all over his floor, the House Elf’s had brought Ron to his room to recover. Theo was left staring at the blood stain on the Persian rug that would’ve caused a beating from his father while the anger ebbed and grew. There weren't any answers from the Death Eater, and Ronald had passed out from the pain and blood loss, which left him staring at a blood stain with no hint of where the hell his sister was and nobody giving him any information. As the anger grew, Theo spun around, stalking towards the long haired man tied to the chair who was glaring at him with disinterest. Theo cocked his head at the man, before stepping forwards, shoving Potter out of the way and grabbing a handful of his shirt with his fists. “What the fuck is she you piece of shit?”

“Oh, you mean the little bitch who I had a hold of? Well, from the looks of your friend I would assume dead somewhere splinched to death.” A wicked grin overtook his face and Theo held his breath against the rancid stench that ghosted across his face. The man's smirk grew even wider as Theo tucked his wand into his neck. “Don’t think that you have it in you, Nott. Going to prove that you’re Tiberius’s son after all or not? “

Something inside of Theo flickered, swirling up through his wand until he could physically see a scorching mark on the man's skin from where the wood was digging into his neck. Leaning in, Theo growled at the man. “You have no fucking idea, what I am capable of when it comes to my sister.” Theo was trembling with so much anger that he didn’t even register the feeling of somebody entering the wards. Harry’s gasp didn’t even pull him from his trance, it wasn’t until the low recognizable voice behind him did his hand finally tremble. 

“Nott.” 

Theo stopped, digging the wand deeper to the man's neck. “He fucking….she..” 

“Nott. The Dark Lord requested him, for answers.”

Theo spun around, blue eyes frantic with rage at the Death Eater standing behind him, a mask in place over gray eyes. Harry was standing there with his hand raised, and it took Theo a moment to realize that the Death Eater–Draco, had Harry’s wand in his hand. “You’re just going to fucking bring him there? After what he did?! Whose fucking team are you on? Did she fucking mean nothing to you all along?!” 

Draco wrapped his hands around Theo’s robes, yanking him towards him with ferocity. Taking a step back he was being yanked into another room, away from the Death Eater that knew where his sister was. Once away from the room, Draco ripped the mask from his face, pulling Theo against him as a growl broke from his lips. “I love you like my brother, Theodore so I am going to assume that what you said was out of anger and not that you truly believe that Granger means nothing to me. Everything is for her.”

Theo yanked himself from his grasp, anger simmering just enough now for a coherent thought to drift into his mind. “You know where she is?” Draco didn’t say anything, instead pinching his lips together in a tight line, his head nodding once with acknowledgment. Recognition drifted through his veins. “You wouldn’t have shown up here so calm if she wasn’t alive. If she wasn’t safe….you wouldn’t be here…” His eyes flickered towards the door, narrowing before flicking his gaze back to Draco. 

“Yes.” Draco’s voice was low, a single syllable answering every statement that he had just made. 

“What’s the plan? Obliviate? You can’t bring him back to the Manor like that…he saw Harry, and he saw me. He knows exactly where he is and if the Dark Lord knows that we’re here they will storm the house. The wards here aren’t as powerful as your Manor’s are….what’s the plan? What do we have to do to keep her safe?”

Draco stared at him for a moment, before slipping the silver mask over his face again, gray eyes shining underneath. Something flickered across their depths before his head tilted towards him. “I have a plan, the less that you know, the safer you are. I wouldn’t recommend staying here forever. They have been checking some of the empty houses, Death Eaters attempting to set up command posts. Keep your head down and stay the fuck alive. Use the Galleon I tossed you the night of Potter's Polyjuice escapade if you need to get ahold of me.” Without another word he stalked towards the door, brushing past Theo who reached out, extending his arm across the wizard's chest. 

“Don’t fucking let her leave, Draco. If she’s safe, don’t fucking let her go.” The shuffling of fabric caught his eyes as Draco’s silver mask tilted towards him, unspoken words shining in his head with a promise that he knew was made before he had even asked. Granger was going to be staying at Malfoy Manor. And deep down Theo knew that she would hate every single one of them for it.

Theo couldn’t find it in himself to care. She could hate him…but that meant that she was going to be alive to hate him. That was all he needed. 

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Draco Apparated back to the Manor, Yaxley’s battered and beaten body levitating alongside him. When he sauntered in through the double doors of the drawing room, he let his body drop to the floor with a heavy thud. Voldemort eyed the man before tilting his face up towards Draco, a sickly smile pulling over his rotting, sharp teeth. In that moment he reminded Draco of a snake more than ever. Voldemort leaned down towards Yaxley and Draco stepped forwards, his fingers tangling in the man's long hair as he tilted his head up to Voldemort’s. He hummed in approval as Yaxley came to, a scream dying on his lips and eyes widening in fear. Draco could almost taste it as the Death Eater stilled underneath him, fear emanating from every pore of the man. 

Voldemort sneered down at Yaxley, before standing to his full height and turning towards the window. “Tell me, Yaxley, about how you failed me.”

“I-I…” Without skipping a beat, the man was ripped from Draco’s grasp, his ratted hair slipping through his fingertips as the man screamed and trembled on the ground. The Cruciartus curse rippled through his body so violently that he thrashed, blood spitting from his mouth as Yaxley bit his cheek. After a few moments Voldemort turned away from him, disappointment written all over his features as his red eyes flitted back towards the window. 

“You have disappointed me, Yaxley.” 

“P-p-please. M-my lord.” Yaxley sputtered, blood landing onto the bottom of Voldemort's robes as the man begged on his hands and knees. Voldemort tipped his head down towards Nagini and Draco watched as the snake slithered across the floor towards Yaxley. “You are dismissed.” Draco paused for a moment, eyeing the snake as it made its way across his marble floors before turning and stalking from the room. Only when he was safely standing in Hermione’s room did he pull the charmed Galleon from his pocket, his message sent off to Theo’s matching one. 

It worked. 

After a moment, the coin burned and Draco flicked his gaze towards it. A smirk played on Draco’s lips as he sent back his reply. 

Yes, he got what he deserved. 

Their plan had thankfully worked, and he finally let himself feel the relief as he slipped into the shower inside Hermione’s bathroom. Washing the feel of Dark Magic from himself, and the blood that lingered on his knuckles as he thought back on the carefully crafted plan. Draco had Obliviated the memory of Yaxley arriving in Nott Manor, and seeing Harry and Theo. The only thing that he had left was him scrambling to regain his hold on Hermione, and Draco had carefully crafted a memory of him landing in some random safehouse until his arrival. Judging by the look on Voldemort’s face, it was convincing enough. A gamble? Absolutely. But, the fact that it worked was all that mattered. If anybody was going to die then it would’ve been him. He was the one who risked changing the memory, and Theo had strict instructions if he were to fail. Stepping from the stream of water, he shrugged on pants and a shirt, striding across the room and standing in front of the partition that divided the two rooms. 

He wasn’t sure how Hermione would feel upon his return, considering he had made sure there wasn’t any way for her to leave. Both of the rooms were locked, warded and protected with Mip under strict instructions to notify him if Hermione somehow managed to get out of the damn room. Resting his head against the wall, a memory filtered back to him. The sound of her gut wrenching screams as she cried in the bath he had drawn her after the Quidditch game. When she had been attacked. Everything in him had screamed for him to go and join her, to hold her as she cried. But, he had known that she wouldn’t let him. She sat in that hot bath for hours screaming and crying as he sat with his back against the wall listening to every sob that pierced his chest. Theo had joined him at one point, the both of them sitting with their backs against the wall, listening to every strangled gasp that had left her while she cried herself to sleep. She might not have allowed them to see her break or to hold her while she fell apart but they had both sat there, on the other side of the wall feeling every scream down to their bones. 

Mustering up the courage and taking a shuddering breath, he slammed his Occlumency walls into place and stepped through the passageway. Hermione was curled up on his bed, wild curls fanning out across the bedding, one of his jumpers falling just above her thighs. She was clutching a pillow to her chest, face pressed into the fabric and he could see the tear tracks dried on the freckled skin. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, leaning against the wall and watching the rise and fall of her chest before she stirred, hands rubbing her eyelids as a whimper escaped her lips. Furrowing his brows, he watched her for a moment, as her dainty hand came to rest on her hip. Draco had applied far too much Dittany to her wound, worried that it was going to scar but he also knew that he didn’t care, it was worth it. It wasn’t a waste making sure that she didn’t have another gruesome scar on her body reminding her of the sacrifices that she had to make as if they weren’t already engraved in her head. 

Her eyes scanned the room, fingers resting on her hip before smooth honey landed on him. They stared at each other for a moment before she pulled herself to a sitting position, tucking the pillow onto her lap. “Where were you?”

“Taking care of a few things.” Something flickered across her face and then there was the stubborn pucker of her lips and he knew that she was preparing for a fight. He had to fight the smirk that threatened to tug at his lips. 

“What things, Malfoy.” Annoyance and suspicion mingled her words and Draco raised a brow at her. 

Draco considered his words for a moment, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Hermione glared at him expectantly. “Retribution. Penance.” Her honey eyes narrowed and he relished the flickering in his chest at her stubborn attitude. He loved this witch so much it hurt sometimes. Yet, he couldn’t deny the fear that he would lose her because of his actions. 

“I told you….Yaxley wasn’t worth–”

“Yes. It was worth it, Granger. You are worth it. When are you going to get that through your head?” She glared at him, scrambling off of the bed and clicking her mouth shut before it dropped open in defiance. 

“THIS IS BIGGER THAN ME, DRACO! All of this is! This entire bloody war is bigger than me. When are you going to understand that?! When are you going to realize that? You cannot go around and get everybody who has wronged me killed, you cannot go and risk compromising yourself just because I almost die. You can’t–” She was panting as his hand rested against the base of her throat, the other on her waist as he spun her, pinning her softly against the wall. 

“Granger. Let me make this clear to you because it hasn’t been any other time I fucking say it.” His fingers slid until he was tilting her jaw up to him, staring at her lips puckered in defiance. “I will risk every fucking person in this war if it means saving you, including myself.” He silenced her lips as they opened in defiance. “I. Will. Not. Let. You. Die. I will not allow you to kill yourself over a fucking war that you never should’ve been involved in, in the first place. A war that you shouldn’t have had any bloody thing to do with since the beginning. You should’ve been put in fucking Gryffindor for all your self-sacrificial bullshit. Your Order doesn’t give a fuck about how many times you have almost died, but I do. Because they haven’t been the ones who have protected you, who have put you back together. They haven’t been the ones who have heard your screams, or fucking held you as blood poured from your fucking lips. They haven’t been the ones who have watched the light almost fade from your eyes and scrambled to do whatever possible to save you.” He choked, swallowing down the strangled noise in his throat. “The fucking Order hasn’t given a shit about you, but I have. I do! I love you, Hermione. And I am so fucking sick and tired of almost losing you…I can’t…” 

Hermione stared at him, before reaching up a finger and swiping across his cheek. He didn’t notice that he had been crying, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off his witch. Couldn’t manage to break his eyes off of the defiant woman that broke him and put him together all at the same time. She was magic, completely and totally enrapturing him, humming through his veins so strongly that he wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. 

“Please…don’t…don’t make me have to say goodbye to you. Don’t make me have to learn how to live in this world without you…I can’t. Just let me keep you safe-please. For once..” His forehead fell against hers, resting it there as his fingers traced over her jaw. When she whispered a response he was sure he had fallen asleep and dreamt the words that fell from her mouth. 

“Okay. Okay, Draco. But, I can’t just sit here and do nothing–” He didn’t give her a chance to say anything before pressing his lips to hers, stealing her acknowledgement and sealing it against his lips. There wasn’t any chance that he would let her take it back now, that he would let her take back the words whispered into the darkness of the room. He knew she wouldn’t be able to do nothing, that she wouldn’t be able to sit in these walls and allow everybody else to do the fighting. That didn’t matter. He would gather every book in the Malfoy library and cover her room from floor to ceiling for her to read in a hunt for information. He would change his entire room into a Potions room if she insisted on brewing potions while she was here, it didn’t matter. He would do whatever it took to know that she was safe within the walls of his home, that she was safe with him. He wouldn’t have to have sleepless nights wondering if she was going to appear half dead in his room, or stare at his bed from the chair by the fire with memories flickering through his head as he remembered begging for her to wake up. 

When he came up for air, his fingers tangled in the curls of her hair, he stared into honey eyes. “I will turn this entire room into a Potions Classroom, so you can brew whatever you bloody want. I will scavenge every library in existence for whatever book you need, just please for the love of Cerce don’t make me say goodbye to you again and wonder if it will be the last time that I do.” Hermione’s eyes were glistening with tears, and he realized just how much gold was there swirling in the honey depths of her irises. After everything that she had been through, he was completely enraptured with the fact that she hadn’t been consumed with darkness. Hermione Jean Granger was filled with so much light it fought off the darkness that surrounded him and threatened to consume him–consume them all. He wondered if she knew that she could banish every shadow from the Earth, wipe away the numb feeling that happened when a curse threatened to overtake you. 

“I-what about Harry? And Theo?” It didn’t go unnoticed that she didn’t mention the Weasel and a small part of him was happy with that. He swallowed, knowing that she wouldn’t like the proposal. 

“Harry knows that you’re not dead, Ron on the other hand, knows nothing. Harry took a Vow of secrecy to make sure that your death isn’t leaked to anybody else. Harry, Theo and I are the only ones who know that you didn’t die when Yaxley grabbed ahold of you at the Department of Ministries. I implanted enough falseness in his memories that when The Dark Lord searched Yaxley’s memories he’s under the impression that you’re dead.” Surprise flickered in her eyes before he continued. “With The Dark Lord believing that you’re dead, and Harry along with Theo being in agreeance that you have sacrificed enough for this fucking war, then you Granger, are officially a ghost.” 

Draco watched as her mouth opened and closed, before it snapped shut and her eyes narrowed. “So, I’m supposed to sit here and do what exactly while the rest of them are out fighting? While the rest of them are risking their lives? While you and my brother are possibly dying?!” Her words hung in the air around them for a moment, and Draco watched as recognition flickered across her face. 

“Harry has Ronald and the entire fucking Order. He also will have you here doing whatever it is that will ease your mind about providing assistance. Theo, is staying with them to aid and because he hasn’t been called back from being a spy. I am maintaining my cover to make sure that my fucking mother isn’t slaughtered by the Dark Lord, and to ensure that Theo’s cover isn’t questioned. Harry is surrounded by bloody idiots that will make sure that he gets out of anything that happens unscathed like he always manages to do.” Something flickered across her face and before he could say anything she had her hands pressed against his cheeks. 

When he pressed his lips against hers, he hoped that for once she would keep her promise. That her pretty words weren’t just words. That this time she would stay and be safe. That she would allow him to lock her in this room and ensure her safety. Ensure that she lives. His tongue traced patterns of desperation against her lips and he poured every ounce of hope into her as they kissed.