Soft snow slowly tangled up in her hair as the sky turned lilac in preparation of the night. The thick snow covering the nature around her dampened every sound. It was eerily quiet so that Hermione swore she could hear the snow fall on the ground. Something she had never noticed before. What a shame, she thought, one only notices thing when they are about to come to an end.
And she had never seen a sunset as beautiful as this. The sky had turned into a canvas with gradients from light blue to lilac with an almost angry bright orange orb evaporating pure energy that Hermione felt reaching her nose and cheeks. Rays of warmth piercing through the cold landscape, spending her warmth and light. In contrast to the whiteness that surrounded every centimeter of the scenery below. The snow, a thick layer still piling up on the ground, was glittering mesmerizing and pristinely untouched.
She sat on a bench in front of the Shrieking Shack on a mound overlooking snowed fields to her left and the beginning of the Forbidden Forest to the right. Hermione couldn’t believe she didn’t use her time to watch the sunset every day. The glowing spectacle of nature was coming to an end as the last rays of light threatened to leave and the burning orb grew thinner and thinner. Threatening to leave her in this cold alone. Her heart clenched.
A dampened pop from the back side of the house made Hermione’s alarm bells rang. Her muscles tensed out of habit. Ready to fight or flight. She took a deep breath to calm herself. It must be him. She checked her glamour again, hiding her wounds from the previous days. Or maybe months. She couldn’t keep track of her wounds anymore.
All she knew is her body was in constant pain from all the dueling with Death Eaters. And the lack of food, sleep and warmth didn’t help it to heal. Camping out in the woods or rugged safe houses while constantly worrying about being discovered, hovering between sleep and wake, startled by every sound outside had kept her from sleeping since the war began. And even if she nodded off, the screams of pain of her friends dying in her dreams would wake her up immediately. Needless to say, Hermione was beyond exhausted.
Not that it mattered in regard to all the suffering around her. Not that it mattered at all anymore, because the war was as good as lost and she, Harry and Ron were as good as dead. That’s why she had wanted this last night with him. The last night of happiness on Christmas Eve before it will all go to shit. Harry was spending the night with Ginny. They weren’t at the Burrow, too painful after most of the Weasley family was decimated but Hermione and Ron had vacated the shared tent. For them to enjoy their last night. Ron was out with Blaise and she had left to be with him. They had all silently agreed to have this one last night with their loved ones.
For they all knew that they were done for. Damaged by too many dark spells, Hermione, Harry and Ron were hanging on by a threat. Harry’s body was rotting from the last Horcrux they destroyed. His right arm was almost unusable now and the curse was spreading. Ron had gotten hit by too many curses. His eyes had been blinded, so he could hardly see anymore, and apart from many wounds of dark magic that wouldn’t close anymore, no matter how much Hermione had tried, he suffered from violent tremor attacks from Crucio exposure.
And Hermione, Hermione didn’t know which exact spell or spells had hit her but now there was this dark thing living in her, draining her and each day she could move less. It felt like her body was turning into stone. And with more Horcruxes left than they could count, Voldemort creating more and more and the reigns of the Death Eaters growing by day, they knew they were done for.
The Order had disassembled months ago. Most of them died but some fled. Hermione couldn’t resent the ones that left though. It had been clear that they would never manage to stop Voldemort. He was just too powerful. The best one could do was to leave Britain and build a life far from here. It was either that or certain death. But Hermione, Harry and Ron knew they couldn’t leave. They would fight until the end. Harry was doomed from his birth and Voldemort would not stop until he was dead. Hermione, as a Muggleborn, would never leave without fighting for her people and Ron, yes, Ron could have left to live a happy life far from this wasteland, but Ron said he would stay with them until the end.
And that is how the Golden Trio came to face their impeding end. All three of them knew that they were doomed. What came next was a suicide mission. A desperate attempt to destroy one Horcrux in their last battle.
With that thought, although familiar by now, Hermione’s body was overcome with a sudden electrolyzing anguish going right into her heart. The fear of death had her in its grip. Hot flushes rippled through her what felt like a small panic attack. There were so many things she still wanted to do… No, she couldn’t think of that now. It took her some deep breaths to calm down again. Tonight, Hermione told herself, tonight she was done reminiscing and worrying. She had her last night to live. She recognized the familiar footsteps, even when they were trudging through the snow, and her stomach filled with happy anticipation.
She turned to face him and couldn’t help to smile at how the snow disturbed his otherwise immaculate appearance. He was dressed all black as usual but his blond hair looked slightly disheveled. His cloak was quickly covered in large flakes of snow as he stepped nearer towards her. His leather-gloved hand were putting a silvery object into his pocket. He had just taken off his mask. Hermione swallowed, willing herself to ignore the dark nature of his work for this night.
They didn’t talk much. Hermione greeted Draco with a heated kiss, almost melting into his cloak. She felt the leather of his gloved hands caressing her cheek. For a split of a second she wondered what these gloves had done today, before he answered the kiss with such a ferocity, she ceased to think at all. She explored his mouth with her tongue, desperately trying to soak up his taste. To remember forever. Her arms locked behind him, not daring to let any space between them. Not daring to let anything break them apart again. Not today.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come”, Hermione whispered as she had to break the kiss to gasp for air.
Cloudy grey orbs stared back at her. He looked pale and exhausted, but then he always did these days. Alone for the small pink patch of rose that had bloomed on his cheeks which she took full credit for with the kiss. A small proudness bloomed in her chest, seeing him affected by her. Not that it meant that much to him as it does to you, she warned herself.
“What can I say? I was in the neighborhood,” he gave her his signature smirk. “So do you want to continue this out here in the snow and darkness or are we allowed some comfort?”
“Jerk,” she laughed, grabbed his cloak and dragged him inside. In the few times they met here, they had spelled the Shrieking Shack to be a moderate – well, shack. It had been falling apart but with a few spells it was an adequate place. They could use the bed and the roof wasn’t leaning anymore. They even could light the fireplace now.
She spelled the fire on while Draco conjured and lightened some candles.
“So, where were we?” Hermione turned to find Draco staring at her with soft eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” his low voice made her insides clench. “Sometimes I can’t believe your real.”
“Stop, you sap,” she tried to laugh it off as she stepped closer to him. They don’t really talk much anymore. And they don’t say these things. Not anymore.
As she stood in front of him she faced his chest. He was wearing a black cashmere turtleneck. She wanted to touch his chest but her hand stopped. Without touching him, she felt the heat radiating off him, his warmth in the still cold room. Warming her cold hands. He towered her, she needed to bend her neck to look up to him. Encountering his intense stare made her swallow. Her hand dropped to his chest. She caressed the soft fabric above his beating heart. His hands reached to grasp hers, pressing her closer to his heart. His eyes glistering in with the reflection of the flames sizzling behind her.
Hermione couldn’t wait any longer. She pushed, and although he could easily resist it, he let himself fall onto the bed behind him. She took off her shoes and climbed on top of him to devour him.
It was fitting that their last night together would be on the same Christmas night it had started years ago.
The Yule Ball had started out as a fairytale dream and ended as a disaster for Hermione. With her dress torn and crying from Ron’s stupid comment on her and Krum she had left the ball room and run outside. She had met Draco but instead of making fun of her as she expected, he consoled her.
“Weaselbee is an asshole, Granger. I’m always astound how someone so smart can be so stupid in some things.” Draco tried to brush the softly falling snowflakes off his dress coat. A futile task in this weather.
Hermione’s eyebrows knit, too surprised to continue crying. “Wait, did you just say you think that I’m smart? You know, I’m a Muggleborn right?”
Draco’s ruffled his platinum hair. “I see how you excel in each test. I’m not stupid.” Undoing his collar, Draco paced before her. “Seems some things might not be so true about Muggleborns as I thought.”
Hermione almost jumped up from her seat in window notch of the stone alleyway. But she didn’t want to get her feet cold and wet from the snow as her dress shoes gave little protection.
“You look cold, here take my cloak.” Draco, who was even more covered in snowflakes as he wasn’t protected by the notch as Hermione was, took off his cloak and tried to hand it to her.
“No, it’s alright.” Hermione didn’t think it would look good if anyone saw her with Draco’s cloak.
He must have had the same thought. He took out his wand but before Hermione could react, or maybe even panic, he had cast and covered her in a strong warming charm.
Hermione shuddered at the warmth enveloping her and the distinct feeling of Draco’s magic on her skin. It felt almost soothing like honey. Did everyone’s magic feel that nice?
Their eyes met. Draco’s face was illuminated by the stars of the night sky. Their reflection on the blanket of snow lit up the darkness of the night. In this light one side of Draco’s face was covered in dark while the other was light and Hermione marveled at the strong line of his jaw and the dimple on his cheek she never noticed before. Strange, how one can have so many interactions and see another daily and never really look at them. How different he appears.
Caught in his own thoughts while he stared back at her, Draco seemed to suddenly realize he was staring. He quickly diverted his gaze and his cheeks reddened. Hermione couldn’t believe it. Had Draco Malfoy, the Draco Malfoy really blushed just now?
She wanted to make a joke but it got stuck in her throat. Draco was still examining the stone wall next to her. She felt like this was a new side of Draco she had gotten to know just now, a fickle side and she didn’t want to destroy the moment just now.
“Anyways, I better go inside.” Draco run through his hair again, ruining his gelled back hairstyle completely now. Platinum strands fell into his face. Hermione found herself liking his hair better this way.
“Hermione, where are you?” A familiar voice echoed through the corridor behind her. As she turned back to Draco, he had already stomped through the snow away from her. He gave her a last indecipherable look before he opened the door and left.
That was when it had started to change between them. The next day Draco had sat next to her in the library. It had started slowly, small comments and learning advice at first. But their shared love for knowledge had shown itself as a fertile ground for a reluctant friendship. But they kept it secret, not wanting their feuding friends to interfere or judge them.
And they enjoyed the thrill of their secrecy. Even if it was only platonic at first. Over summer break Hermione and Draco had written themselves encoded letters, trying to best another with encrypting skills. Hermione’s heart beat quicker each time she receives another one of the mysterious letters. She always started right away to try to solve it. Sometimes she needed days to break the code but it was always worth it. She had found a worthy opponent in Draco.
In fifth year, they had become official study buddies and partnered in Potions. Officially, they both hated their partnership. Unofficially, working with Draco was the best thing ever. He was methodical and smart, complemented her bookish knowledge with hands-on expertise.
These long nights in the dungeons working on their potion projects soon turned into more. Months of stolen glances and lingered touches had turned into make-out sessions after a heated quarrel over the right ingredients for a potion project. The moment they turned form violent yelling, a heated Malfoy screaming at her, into passionately kissing her would be always ingrained in her brain as one of her favorite moments. And his widening orbs when she kissed him back just as fiercely. From then on, they spent countless nights exploring each other’s bodies and hearts in the Room of Requirement. Those were the last of the happy days.
Sometimes, in the early days, when Hermione closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the brutal state of the world and drained from the war, she could still see it. His flesh on hers, the warmth of their bodies pulsating, his small of sandalwood and cotton and the spark in her eyes when he laid next to her and looked into her eyes.
But the memory of the lines of his face she had memorized it vanished slowly. And soon, Hermione struggled to imagine any trace of warmth or comfort in her mind at all.
When the war came, she had pleaded and begged him to not join Voldemort. But he had insisted it was the only way to save his family. To save his mother. The Dark Lord will kill her, he told Hermione.
“Please, Draco, do it for me. Stay with me.” But her pleading was in vain. When Draco Malfoy had set his mind to something, he always went through with it.
“Hermione, love, I have to do this. I have to take the mark. You know that. Please don’t make it harder than it is.” He turned her chin upward to gently kiss her.
“Let’s not break up then.” Hermione was desperate. “We can still be together.”
But Draco shook his head. “Hermione, it won’t work. There will be a whole war between us. It’s better for us to separate.”
And Hermione swallowed all her heartbreak and her love for him and they spent their last night before his departure in the Shrieking Shack together.
It was over between them.
The war went on longer than anyone had expected. Weeks turned into months turned into years. The Order remained small and they weren’t enough. A few students against masters of dark magic – turned out they weren’t strong enough. Watching as they friends were killed one by one was while their hunt for the Horcruxes turned out void was the most painful experience in the world.
One night, after the death of Neville, Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. She apparated away and somehow ended up at the Shrieking Shack. She could breathe again there and she was reminded of a better time. She spent one night there and after the next incident – Arthur’s death, she went back again. It had become her refuge. And one day Draco was there too. And with one look at his face, seeing the eyes that she loved again – they landed in each other’s arms. They didn’t talk. He didn’t talk about his work and she didn’t talk about hers. And he never stayed the night. It happened again, once or twice that was it between them. Just two sad souls in search for a bit of comfort form the cold world. After all, he had made his decision to join the Dark Side and she had made hers to join the Order.
Her heart still beat quick. They both lay face to face and she stared into the greyest eyes she’d ever seen. She loved seeing him like this – relaxed face, tousled hair and a small smile in his pink lips. His fingers were slowly drawing circles around her belly. An activity he seemed to take very serious.
Hermione couldn’t help but raise her hand to move a strand of hair out of his face. Grey eyes shifted to meet hers. She knew out of experience he would leave soon.
“Hermione,” his hands moved to caress her cheek, “they know about your attack on the Manor tomorrow. They’ll be prepared. It’s better if you change your plans.”
Hermione turned on her back, looking at the ceiling. Why did he have to tell her this? They don’t share intel.
Somehow, she wasn’t surprised at the news. Somehow, she wasn’t concerned, not anymore. Their plan for tomorrow’s attack was it. There was no other option.
“Did you hear me, Hermione? Just don’t attack tomorrow. I know things have been though for you lately, but if you maybe lay low for a bit, he will relax and lessen his security precautions.” Hermione loved to hear Draco’s voice. The way it was dark and husky, mostly monotonous with only a hint of emotions. Something most people will miss.
“I’ll think about it.” A lie. A lie so she could turn again to him to trace the lines of his face. Draco opened his mouth again but Hermione pressed a kiss to his lips to shut him up. And it worked, Draco responded by meeting her tongue. As she explored his mouth, the kiss heated up and she tuned on top to straddle him. Hermione broke the kiss to take him in. Swollen lips and wide, soft grey eyes. An image that burned into her retina.
Seeing him like that made something clench inside of her and she couldn’t help but swing her hips. A sentiment he shared as he enthusiastically answered her. She could feel his member swelling beneath her. His need for her made her wet.
Hermione turned to kiss every inch of his torso as Draco nuzzled her neck. She flinched at the scars on his chest and made a point of licking over them. Draco turned her and she could feel him probing at her entrance.
“I need you,” she whispered at his questioning look. But instead of entering her, he moved to downwards with his mouth to lick her clit.
“Shh, I wanted to taste you again for so long.” And then Draco nibbed and sucked in the most delightful way. Hermione thought back of their shared nights in the Room of Requirements where she had taught they ways to please her. Seems like he remembered. As he met a particularly sensitive spot, she moaned in pleasure.
“You taste so good, love,” Draco murmured. A slip on his part from old days, surely. His fingers probed at her entrance.
Hermione’s breathing quickened. Oh, how she loved his hands, Hermione thought as Draco twisted them skillfully inside of her. She felt her muscles clench.
“Draco, I’m coming.” Hermione saw a mix of stars and platinum white hair as she grabbed onto his head.
Draco intensified his pace. “Yes, come for me, darling.”
Hermione gasped as the felt her insides spasm. Draco came up to press a kiss on her forehead.
It took both a few minutes laying in silence to come back down.
“I need to leave now. I have a mission early tomorrow,” Draco said ruefully as he sat up
“Okay.” Hermione knew he would leave eventually. She knew that all this would come to an end. Still, her heart clenched painfully.
Draco was collecting his clothes. “Remember, they know. Better lay low for a while.” He gave her a serious glace.
“Sure.” And at that moment, staring at Draco’s grey eyes almost made Hermione confess. That they would go regardless. That the Order was done for. That they were dying. But Draco turned to put on his socks and Hermione gathered herself.
Hermione watched him dress in his robes. Death eater robes. There was no use in telling him. They were nothing. Draco could do nothing. It was unfair of her to burden him with her problems. He had made his decision. He chose his mother. He knew the consequences. He might be a bit sad about her demise, like one is sad for their ex-girlfriend but that would be it. He’d get over it, marry a pureblood witch and re-populate the world he had cleaned from Muggleborns with Purebloods. This is what he signed up for, Hermione reminded herself. And she would make sure there was one less Horcrux in this world. One less piece of Voldemort. It was all she could do anymore, the lingering pain in her bones reminded her.
Draco put on his shiny black boots. The boots of Death Eaters. Like the ones she sees in her nightmares, when they were spilled with blood. Hermione knew, Draco was one of the highest-ranking Death Eaters, practically Voldemort’s right hand.
He had finished buttoning up his shirt. He looked stunning but also sleek and deadly. Hermione knew she should be afraid of him, but she couldn’t. Not of Draco. She only hoped he wasn’t there tomorrow. That she wouldn’t die by his hand. Anyone, but him. But he had said, he was on a mission, so her chances were good.
Draco gave her a smile as he came closer to the bed, Hermione was still sprawled on. He crouched down to press a kiss on her lips. His clothed torso pressed against Hermione’s naked skin. She suddenly felt too vulnerable. His hand caressed her bare shoulder.
“See you,” Draco muttered against her lips.
“Goodbye, Draco,” Hermione turned her head around so he couldn’t see the tear that was about to fall. ”Take care.”
“Hermione, are you okay?” Draco gently hooked his finger under her chin to turn her face.
Hermione tried to smile. Shit, she thought while quickly wiping at her eye.
“What’s wrong?” Draco gave her a concerned look.
There was no use in telling him. He had made his decision, Hermione told herself as everything inside her screamed to throw herself against his chest and let herself be consoled by him. What she would give for him to tell her everything is going to be alright. For her and Harry and Ron to be safe. To be away from all this killing and death.
“Nothing, just my hormones.” Hermione tried to stop her tears from falling. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I think I’m about to get my period.”
Draco gazed into her eyes for a long moment, searching for something. But Hermione held her ground and wiped all emotions off her face. Lying was so easy these days. The war had taught her too well.
Suddenly, she felt the old pain in her bones flare up. Not now. “You can go, it’s fine,” Hermione insisted and shifted backwards. “I’ll be fine.”
Draco gave a sigh but said nothing. He shifted, as if unsure at what to do. “Okay…”
He picked his cloak from the ground and swung it on. He was ready to go now.
Hermione felt her heart twist at the sight. “Draco?”
He turned to Hermione once again. “Yes?” Draco lifted his eyebrows.
“Merry Christmas.”
The corner of Draco’s lips lifted. “Merry Christmas, Hermione.” And then he left.
With Draco’s departure and the fireplace gone out, the cold came back into the room. Hermione shivered. And there wasn’t much time left until the sun was about to rise. Hermione had hoped that she will get to experience her last sunrise. So she dragged herself out of bed and quickly put on yesterday’s clothes. She cast a quick cleaning charm and went outside into the dark to sit on the bench again, awaiting the sun.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, in the cold and howling dark of the night, staring at the freshly fallen snow. She was freezing cold, but even that was an experience she now cherished. In the face of nothingness, even the unpleasant feelings become precious.
And the nearer the sun came, announcing herself with a light blue sky before her arrival, the less afraid Hermione became. She had made her decision and it was a good one. Fighting for what was right. Doing the last thing in her power, that maybe, one day when someone else comes along, has to destroy one Horcrux less.
The last traces of uncertainty and fear were washed away from her body by the first rays of the sun. Her soft yellow orb burned away Hermione’s doubt. She felt the sun’s light illuminating her soul, body and mind. It was as if the sun wanted to tell her, everything will be alright. And Hermione believed it.
Hermione met Ron and Harry at their hideout. Both had a serious look on their face.
“Remember guys, none of this is forced. None of you will be judged if you just leave and start a new life somewhere else.” Hermione felt like the gravity of the situation warranted that needed to say that again.
“We know, Hermione, we’ve been through this,” Ron rolled his eyes. “Harry and I are ready.”
Hermione’s gaze fell to Ron’s trembling arm and she gave a nod. “Okay.”
“Harry?” Hermione looked at the dark-haired man. “You sure?”
Harry clenched his jaw and nodded. “Yes, let’s kill a Horcrux.” His arm went to scratch his neck where a black stretch of flesh was open.
“Alright.” Hermione pulled three pills out of her bag. “Take these. Spell them to the insides of your cheek. They will open when you speak the incantation.” The boys took the pill and cast the spell. Hermione did the same. Insurance against torture, they had agreed.
“I love you guys.” This was it. Hermione couldn’t hold back the tears.
“Thank you for everything.” Harry came in to hug her. Hermione was squeezed against his chest and Ron came in as well.
The three lingered in the hug for a long time.
When they parted, they took another’s hand and they apparated to Voldemort’s Manor.