Twelve times.

Hermione had spent the past few minutes tallying up how often she had lain on top of Draco after a night of love-making on a twenty-time over scorgified tatty sofa. It included almost every weekend (give or take some days) since they'd returned from Christmas holiday. With sigh she continued to listen to Draco's heartbeat, unsure of whether or not he was asleep, too scared to look into his face as she often was after they'd… Well, after.

She questioned their actions constantly. Never to Draco. Never out loud. She just wanted whatever they had to just stay as it was. Uncomplicated despite the obvious complication. It was easier that way. It also allowed her to wallow in Draco's tender embrace with a little less guilt.

"Granger?" Draco voiced, his tone deafening in the total quiet the teashop was just in.

"Hmm?"

"I… I need you to do something. And whatever I ask of you…I need you to just do it. Don't fight me on it. Just swallow your stubbornness for once in your life and do as I say."

Hermione's body tensed. She knew that Draco felt it because his arms grew tighter around her small frame. Or maybe it was because he knew, as she was doing now, that she would ease her body from him so she could look him in the eyes.

Those eyes…

Draco's steel grey eyes looked guilty as hell. Hermione's chest felt tight. He looked at her pleadingly, but she took her lip between her teeth as she slowly shook her head. "No," she said with a release of her lip. "I'm not making any promises I can't keep."

"Granger,-"

"What's this about, Malfoy?" She asked sharply.

Draco frowned. He tried to bring her back to lay her head on his chest, but she was far from the calm, recently seduced and satisfied witch who had been sweetly dragging her fingertips up and down his arm. He sighed.

"I need you to leave the castle next weekend." He said bluntly. "Saturday night. It doesn't matter where you go, but just promise me that you won't be there."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

It was Draco's turn to bite his lip –the nasty habit he had picked up from his maybe, sort-of girlfriend. "I can't tell you."

Hermione's anger was evident. She scrambled off of him completely as well as the sofa, standing with her arms crossed defiantly over her chest. Perhaps in her rage she'd forgotten that she was stark naked. Had Draco not been so aware that she was foaming at the mouth, he would've stayed rooted where he was, admiring her shapely figure and entertaining fantasies of what other blemishes he could mark her porcelain flesh with.

"It's about Voldemort, isn't it?" Hermione questioned. Draco didn't answer. He merely stood up just as she had and just as naked. "Draco Malfoy, you'd better answer my question or so help me-"

"Yes,"

"And…you want me to leave the castle?"

"Yes,"

"Because something bad will happen at Hogwarts?"

Once again Draco was silent. Hermione was growing red in the face. She took a step forward and placed her hands on his face to make him look at her instead of turning away his gaze in obvious shame.

"Is something bad going to happen there?"

"Yes," Draco gritted through his teeth. Hermione's face morphed into an interesting array of emotions. First was intense fear. The next was possibly disappointment. The last was a resurgence of her fury and she dropped her hands to her sides.

"Something awful is about to happen at Hogwarts and this is all you're doing? Warning me?"

Draco furrowed his brow. "I don't want anything to happen to you. I thought that would be obvious."

"I'm not the only person in the bloody castle, Malfoy!" Hermione shot at him. She let out an exasperated breath and yanked on her hair. "There are dozens upon dozens of students there! Teachers! My friends…"

"I can't save everyone." Draco answered her. "One student, they're not going to miss. But a whole horde of them? And maybe they don't leave. Maybe they stand guard and fight." He sighed then, his lips turning into a thin line and his eyes growing hard. "They'll know. They'll know and then they'll kill me. And then they'll go on to kill Dumbledore since I'll be dead and can't do it when I'm a corpse."

Hermione snapped her eyes to his. "Dumbledore? You're…you're still going to go through with it? Draco?"

Draco flinched. The only times he ever heard her say his given name was in moments of sexual bliss. To hear her say it now in such a harsh manner, it sent an uncomfortable feeling down his spine and an overwhelming sense of self-loathing.

"Hermione-"

"Don't you dare." She said coldly, instantly recoiling as he sought to touch her. "All this time I thought we had a mutual understanding. That this whole thing with Dumbledore was over. That you'd found some way out." Her stare dropped to the ground, her hands wandering up and over her body in an attempt to cover herself as she seemed to only just realize she was fully exposed. "I guess that makes me foolish. Just because you were silent on the matter, it didn't mean you weren't still doing it. Plotting it. Plotting Hogwarts' downfall…"

"Hermione, look at me."

"No."

"Please?"

"No." She said stronger this time. "You don't deserve anything from me."

Draco's chest ached. He watched as she wandered over to where her clothes had been discarded in a fit of passion. He had expected more shouting. Perhaps a few slaps to the face. Hell, even a curse or two. But seeing her so stung by his betrayal was more than he could handle. He made a split-second decision then –probably an unwise one –but he would do anything to take the disappointed look out of her eyes.

And so he casually walked up behind her. His clothes had been in a similar messy heap as hers and his wand had been among them. He silently lowered himself to it, taking the wood between his fingers and pointing it at the back of Hermione's head.

"Obliviate,"

Hermione's actions stopped. Draco concentrated hard, erasing every bit of the conversation he'd just had with her. He'd find some way to get her out of the castle on his own. He had to make sure that she was safe. And he had to make sure that she wasn't angry with him, that she didn't think she had wasted the past few months sleeping with someone –a Deatheater –whose sole purpose was to infiltrate Hogwarts and to bring it to its knees along with its leader. It wasn't what he wanted. But…death was a real thing, and he wanted to live.

That night in the teashop was among the memories Draco was reliving and it was one he was familiar with. He'd had nightmares about that night for years. It wasn't just because he had obliviated Hermione. It was because to this day she still didn't know that he had. He'd gotten rid of her memories, stunned her, and undressed her. He'd lain her back over him on the old sofa as though they'd never gotten up from it. And after that night he'd avoided her like the plague. He had avoided her up until the night just before his wicked aunt and other Deatheaters had infiltrated Hogwarts. That night he'd told her he loved her for the first time. It hadn't been in said in so many words, of course. Being that she had been the first girl he'd ever truly gotten close to, not to mention a Gryffindor muggleborn, he hadn't been very articulate. But she had understood his stutters and nervous hand gestures and said that she had loved him too.

And Draco had prayed mercilessly that Hermione had remembered those words when she found out that it was he who had let Deatheaters into the school to run amok.

It had been an agonizing summer. It had been an agonizing couple of months after said summer that felt like years. Their affections for one another had been their last bit of communication and Draco had spent nearly a year in utter turmoil. He had wanted to know what she thought of him. If she knew that he hadn't been the one to kill Dumbledore. That he hadn't crossed the point of no return. That he wished he had asked for the headmaster's help when the chance had been offered.

The next time he would see her it would be at an awful moment.

In his Manor.

Being tortured.

And all he could do was watch.

Draco gave a shaky breath that attracted the brunette's attention across from him. She tilted her head slightly, giving him a questioning gaze. He looked up at her with a frown. "…Did I ever say that I was sorry, Hermione? About what happened to you in my Manor?"

Hermione pursed her lips, setting her long emptied teacup onto the floor next to her. "You apologized for your part in the war, but not specifically for that event. Does it matter? Draco, it's been nineteen years."

"I know. And even then there's so much that I still regret."

Her curiosity was piqued now, and she edged a little closer to him. "Like what?"

"Like not listening to you about asking Dumbledore for help." He admitted. "I can't help but think that maybe things would've turned out differently for us. That maybe you -we wouldn't have thought we'd be a disaster if we stayed together."

"…It certainly would've helped." Hermione said quietly. "But we can't change the past, so there's no point in dwelling on it."

Silence ensued. Neither had tea anymore to distract themselves with, and so the next few minutes were filled with awkward glances at each other, playing with the hems of their clothing, clearing their throats, and brushing loose strands of hair behind ears.

"You should know." Hermione said after some minutes. "I did change my mind after a while."

Draco snapped his eyes to her quickly. "You what?"

She was fidgeting in her seat, not daring to look up at him. "After we had talked –argued, really –it stuck in my mind for months. And after a while I began to think that…it wouldn't have been that bad. My parents, being muggles and hardly cognizant of what our being together meant, they wouldn't have cared. Harry and Ron on the other hand…they would've gone crazy. No matter how much time I gave them, it wouldn't have been enough. They would've probably stopped talking to me too. But the point of the matter is that it wouldn't have lasted –their anger. They would've hated you, obviously, but I was their best friend. They would've seen past it eventually, and they would've tolerated you because of me."

"That was too optimistic of you, Hermione."

Hermione stared at him curiously. "If I remember correctly you would've jumped at my words in euphoria."

"That night?" Draco said with a sad tone to his voice. "Yes. A month or two after that? Of course. But just like you I thought about things too. I realized that you were right. It would've been a catastrophe. You would've been devastated at the strain of your friendship with Potter and Weasley. You would've hated being ostracized from everyone you cared about. We wouldn't have lasted a year."

The teashop plunged them into silence yet again. It was broken quickly, however, when Draco narrowed his eyes some.

"You'd changed your mind." He accused, a hint of irritation rising in his voice. "You'd changed your mind about us and you didn't seek me out. Why?"

"I'd thought about it." Hermione replied honestly. "But by the time I'd come to my epiphany word out was that you were already seeing Astoria." She bit her lip and finally raised her eyes to him. "I'm no homewrecker, Draco. And Ron was… He was there, ready and waiting to have me. So I let him."

Draco sneered, a baring of his teeth visible. "Weasley,"

Hermione arched a brow. "Still furious at the idea of us being together after all this time?"

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and reminding her very much of the teenaged boy she'd loved. "There's a difference between being outright angry and simply irritated. If I were to lose you to anyone, I had just hope to Merlin and back it wouldn't be to him."

Hermione couldn't help her smile. When Draco finally realized what she was doing, he began to smile too, letting his hands fall to the sofa and soon getting up to make themselves two fresh cups of tea.

Hermione had scarcely seen Draco in…Merlin only knew how long. His Ministry hearing didn't count. He had been seated in the middle of the Wizengamot while the horde of wizards and witches in the stands listened to any testimonies on his behalf. They were the only way to keep him from being prosecuted as an adult as well as spending endless years in Azkaban.

Testimonies had been few. Close to nil, actually. It had been hers and Harry's, and she thanked Merlin that it had been enough to sentence Draco to community service under the close supervision of an Auror.

The Battle of Hogwarts certainly didn't count. It had been complete chaos and she'd only seen glimpses of Draco throughout the entire ordeal. She tried not to remember the one extensive moment they'd shared together in the Room of Requirement. Ron's protective nature over her was evident, and so was her lover's hard features at seeing the redhead as such.

That dreadful night back in Malfoy Manor hadn't counted either. She was being tortured beyond measure and she watched from her periphery Draco's distraught face as she screamed and writhed in agony. She had wondered, even now, how no one had ever noticed him. Anyone with a blind eye could see that her torture was eating him up inside. It was his utter dread that allowed her to partially forgive him for the night Dumbledore died. Time had eventually let her forgive him all the way.

And so yes, it had been a little over a year since Hermione had been this close to Draco, alone and all to herself. They were in their favorite place, hands on each other's faces, thumbs running across cheeks and bottom lips, nuzzling noses, kisses splashing every free ounce of skin, eyes searching each other's just to make sure they were really there.

"I am so sorry." Draco breathed after he'd kissed her for what must've been for the thousandth time. "It was all my fault. It all could've been avoided if-"

"Shh, stop." Hermione said, making sure to kiss his lips for good measure. "It's over now. It's in the past and it doesn't matter anymore."

Draco frowned. He took her hands in his and held them tightly. "Maybe to you. I may have been exonerated somewhat, but people don't seem to see that."

Hermione joined him in his frown. "It's only been two weeks since your hearing. You have to give it time-"

Draco snorted. "Ever the optimist… Time won't matter, Hermione. Nothing matters anymore. All that matters now is…is you and me."

Hermione stared at him curiously as Draco began pacing the teashop. She hadn't noticed it before, perhaps in her happiness to finally have him back in her arms. But now that she could really get a good look at him, he was a mess. His hair was ruffled. His clothes were hardly neat or pressed, and he looked utterly nerve-wrecked.

"Draco? Are you alright?"

He paused. He looked at her then and could see the concern for him lacing her features. She looked beautiful when she was actively caring for him. "Do you love me, Hermione?"

Her lips curled upwards. "Of course I do."

"Then I need to ask you something. Well, two things."

Hermione's brows furrowed, but understanding came in a flash when Draco dropped down to one knee and began rummaging for what turned out to be a stunning engagement ring decorated in diamonds, emeralds, and rubies.

"Marry me, Hermione." Draco said as he presented the ring to her. Hermione's eyes welled with tears instantly as she nodded eagerly.

"Yes. Yes, Draco, of course I'll-"

"And run away with me."

"What?"

"Run away with me."

"Why do we have to run away?"

Draco stared at her in confusion, his outstretched hand holding the ring beginning to falter. "What do you mean why? The world's not going to accept us, you know that. We have a difficult road ahead of us and this will make it easier."

"Easier?" Hermione repeated. "Easier for who exactly? Draco, I can't just leave. What about my family? What about Harry and Ron?"

Draco's eyes flashed dangerously at the mention of Harry and Ron and he quickly rose to his feet, the engagement ring sitting in his enclosed fist. "Ugh, what in Merlin's name does Potter and Weasley have to do with us?!"

"Everything!" Hermione shouted, her chest heaving as Draco's. They stood there, face to face, rage etching onto Draco's features while Hermione was doing her best to make him understand. "Think about this, Draco. Really think about it. If we did this, if we ran away together, you mean to tell me that you wouldn't be leaving anything behind? No one?"

Draco paused. Truth be told, whenever Hermione was involved thoughts of anyone else took an immediate second seat. But because she asked, he decided to do it. He supposed there were his friends –the few who hadn't been outright maniacs like everyone else involved on the wrong side of the war. But could they keep him warm at night? No. His parents? Well, they were on a one-way ticket to Azkaban now, weren't they? His self-image? He scoffed internally at that and readily said no. It needed a hell of a lot of reshaping now, didn't it? The more he thought about it, the more Draco realized that there was nothing and no one worth holding onto.

"All I have is you." Draco said softly. Hermione frowned. She began fiddling with her thumbs, her gaze directed away from him. The longer her eyes stayed averted the angrier he became. "You love them more than you love me." He said suddenly. "What others will say, what they'll do, your family, your friends…" A snarl rose to his lips at the last bit and his jaw clenched. "Or maybe it's just Weasley? You and I, we're a catastrophe waiting to happen, but you'll live a bumpy-free life with the freckle-faced redhead on your arm, so you'd might as well just-"

Hermione slapped him. Draco raised a hand to his face, shock adorning it instantly. She had tears brewing in her eyes, but her own anger at him kept them at bay. "Don't you dare think that I love Ron any more than just as a friend. I would love to spend the rest of my life with you, but I'm not running off just so that we can do it. The mere fact that that's what you're suggesting, the fact that you used the word catastrophe to describe us… Doesn't that mean we shouldn't do it?"

"…Run away or be together at all?"

Silence.

Draco could feel water in his eyes. Of all people to let him down. Of all people to give up on him. Of all people to give up on them. He didn't think that it would be her.

"Funny," He said quietly. "I have more faith in us than you do."

"No, you don't." Hermione shook her head. "If you had, we wouldn't have to run."

"Fine. Let's not run."

"N-not run?"

Draco nodded and swallowed deeply. "Not run." He looked down at his fist and unclenched it, revealing the ring he had had made with scrupulous care. "I've spent more than a year without you, Hermione. I'm not doing it anymore."

One month.

They'd been engaged for one month and Hermione shamefully only wore her ring in Draco's presence. Both he and the ring were hidden from her friends and it irked her fiancé beyond describable words. He had no friends. He had no family. She had both and she was afraid of losing everyone if they knew.

One night she and Draco fought. He'd spotted her in London with Harry and Ron and noted dismally that her engagement ring was absent. It'd hurt him more that the redhead beside her was much too affectionate.

He had screamed. He had yelled. He had caused enough damage in the worn teashop that Hermione had been sure it would crumble on top of them. Once he'd gotten it all out, he asked her one thing: "Don't you want to be with me?"

Her answer had been yes, but she didn't want to be without her friends either. She needed time. Time to figure out how she would break the news to them without losing their friendship.

But Draco, ever impatient, wasn't willing to afford her the time. Either she loved him enough or she didn't. Either she thought they would last or she didn't. Either she was willing to endure the obstacles or she wasn't.

That had been the end.

And Hermione had regretted only ever wearing her beautiful engagement ring on the weekends when she saw Draco. Before he snatched it off of her finger in rage and disapparated from her sight, that is.

They hadn't seen each other since. Not since that very recent day at King's Cross Station.

"What did you do with the ring, Draco?" Hermione suddenly asked. He smirked at her question.

"Merlin knows. I'd thrown it off some random bridge and into a river. After all this time, I'd imagine it's in an ocean somewhere, glittering at the bottom among the fish."

"It was a gorgeous ring..."

"It was made especially for you. It had to be."

Quiet.

"I should probably get going…" Both Hermione and Draco began. They smiled at each other, stifling their chuckles.

"Astoria will be home soon and wonder where I've gone."

"Ron and our son will be home soon as well. They'd gone out for the day."

They wordlessly rose from their old sofa, magically washed their teacups and put them back in the cupboards, and put away the kettle. Once outside they stood awkwardly before pulling one another into a firm, reassuring hug.

Draco took in her vanilla scent. Hermione relished the feeling of being in his arms. When they let each other go, they vowed to see each other again soon, although neither had specified where or when.

A week and a half later, the teashop had been razed to the ground along with Hermione and Draco's memories. It had been such a heavy blow to Draco that for the first time in nineteen years he entered his primary vault at Gringotts –one that Astoria didn't know he had –and spent an eternity inside simply staring at the engagement ring he had told Hermione he'd thrown away. Hermione, too, went to the bank –a muggle one –and entered a safety deposit box that hadn't been touched in almost two decades. She took out a male wedding band and stared at it, remembering that she had wanted to give it to Draco at Christmas had he given her the time she had asked for.

Hermione left the bank with the ring and went to the closest bridge she could find. The ring flew from her hand and into the flowing river. She hoped, that over time, it would join her engagement ring at the bottom of whichever ocean it lay.

Author's note: I must've read and reread this chapter a million times and it still hits me hard in the gut. I know I've titled this "Closure," but it's rather more a closure of a chapter of their lives rather than for the self. I guess you could argue that Hermione managed it. She threw the wedding band meant for Draco away. Draco on the other hand clearly hasn't, and it's really sad. What's worse is that Hermione thinks the wedding band will meet her engagement ring one day, but it never will.

So I guess sorry for the feels! But I loved writing it anyway.

Hope that you liked it and thanks for reading :)

-WP

PS! For those of you who've been following the Condemned Series, the third and final installment is called "Beyond Condemnation" and shall be up on Sunday, 2/21. Thanks for waiting patiently for it!