A/N: Draco/Hermione pairing. This fic contains scenes of a sexual nature, underage sex, loss of virginity, torture, and character death. If you are sensitive to any of those, please beware.

After The Battle

By WaitTilMyFatherHearsAboutThis

The Battle of Hogwarts - the war - is over. Not ten minutes ago, Harry Potter defeated Tom Riddle once and for all. As the initial cheering and celebrating dies down, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger look at each other from opposite ends of the Great Hall and visibly sag with relief.

He's alive..

She survived..

We made it..

It's over..

But the reality of their reunion is not lost on either of them. They stare into each other's eyes and pray that nothing has changed between them. That blood and death and war and torture hasn't eaten away at them so completely as to destroy who they are, what they have.

As they frantically search the other's face, memories of their relationship flash non-stop through their minds.

. . . . . . . . . .

It's Third Year and Granger slaps him in the face. Hard. Draco is shocked, insulted, scared, intimidated, embarassed, outraged, impressed, feels a glimmer of reluctant respect for the witch, and - most confusingly of all - has a strange but desperate urge to kiss her, all at the same time, and backs away as fast as he can.

. . . . . . . . . .

Draco watches Granger intensely. He's not sure what he's looking for. At first, he was outraged that she, a Mudblood, dare lay a hand on him, a Malfoy. But that's not it anymore.

She isn't anything like a Mudblood is supposed to be, how his parent's told him they were. She wasn't filthy or stupid. Her blood wasn't muddy for he had seen the cuts on her arms from when Lupin apparently chased her and Potter through the Forest as a wolf.

No. Her blood was bright crimson. Just like his.

Not a Mudblood.

No. She was..

She was brilliant, obviously. Kind. Compassionate. Funny. Pretty. Enthusiastic about learning something new, anything new.

He was confused by her. Spending so much time watching her like a hawk, he had deduced that she was nothing like what he had been told. Draco was brilliant too. He was second only to Granger and he wasn't one to ignore what was right in front of his face. So he was confused.

Was it all an act, a ruse, to hide her inferiority? Was she cheating in some way? Was he wrong about how Mudbloods behave? Is Granger the exception that proves the rule? Were his preconceptions wrong somehow?

He needed to stop just watching her and actually speak to her. He had to know.

. . . . . . . . . .

Hermione was walking back from the library late at night when Malfoy came out of nowhere and started walking with her. She had no idea what to say or do. He wasn't sneering or glaring at her. He wasn't even looking at her. He was just calmly walking beside her. It was odd.

Then he asked her how she thought she had done with her exams. There wasn't even the faintest trace of mockery or contempt in his voice, just idle curiosity, and so she answered honestly that she wished she had a certain book for extra research for Charms, but they were all out at the library. Malfoy nodded, looking thoughtful, and a minute later, he suddenly jerked his arm into his bag and handed her the book in question and said that he had had the same idea and so his mother had sent him a copy from the family library and that even though it was too late now, she could still borrow it if she wanted and give it back to him when she was finished.

Hermione honestly considered the idea that she'd fallen asleep in the library and that this wasn't real. Wouldn't she get Mudblood germs on his precious family's book? She decided knowledge was slightly more important than asking him if he was really Malfoy, not someone Polyjuiced to play a prank on her. She took the book and said thank you, thoroughly bemused.

Malfoy walked her the rest of the way to Gryffindor tower in silence before bidding her goodnight with a tilt of his head. Hermione stuttered out a gobsmacked 'goodnight' before stumbling through the portrait hole and through the almost empty common room in a daze.

Later, in bed, Hermione exhausted every possible motive Malfoy, if it was truly Malfoy, might have for whatever the hell just happened and came to the mind-blowing conclusion that Draco Malfoy was simply being nice.

. . . . . . . . . .

Malfoy watches her. She sees him sneaking glances at her in the corridors, in the Great Hall, in the library. He's always watching her. Always approaches her to almost silently walk her to her destination. If she's alone.

He doesn't seem to have any motive other than wanting to talk to her, to watch her.

She starts to watch him, too.

. . . . . . . . . .

She's in the library and Malfoy is watching her again. When they're alone together, on their at least thrice daily walks, he asks her about classes and exams but never anything else, never about herself. But it's been a week and it's so infuriatingly obvious that he wants to.

He's still watching her.

Hermione slams her book shut, gathers her things and drops herself into the chair opposite him. He seems simultaneously nervous and relieved as they make small talk about themselves.

She makes him smile. She likes his smile.

He makes her laugh. He likes the sound.

. . . . . . . . . .

Draco takes Granger to the Room of Requirement the day before school ends, so they can relax around each other without risking anyone seeing them. He doesn't want to have that particular conversation with his father if he can avoid it, and it would definitely get back to him that his 'only son and heir' was spending time with a Muggle-born.

And enjoying it.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Draco and Hermione spend the entire summer writing to each other about anything and everything, getting to know each other better than they ever dreamed possible, hearing stories about the other's friends and family, their traditions, their ambitions, their hopes, fears and dreams.

. . . . . . . . . . .

In mid-August, Hermione receives a long letter from Draco explaining why he has such prejudices against Muggles and Muggleborns, what those prejudices are, what it is about her that's slowly but surely stripping away all of those beliefs, and a truly sincere apology for everything he's ever said and done to hurt her.

Hermione falls asleep that night with a smile on her face as she cries her eyes out and contemplates how relieved she is that she gave Draco a chance, and how fulfilling and life changing it is that she's gotten through to even just one person, and rid him of a prejudice that otherwise would've kept them from each other.

. . . . . . . . . . .

It's the night of the Quidditch World Cup and Draco watches his father prepare to join the other Death Eaters and before he has time to think, he's running as fast as he can to find Granger.

When he finally finds her, she's in the forest with Potter and Weasley.

They need to move. They need to be further away. Potter and Weasley will never listen to him. Even if Granger tells them to stop being stupid - as if that's even possible - they'll never heed his warning, never accept his advice. But what to say? What to say to make them listen?!

There are eyes and ears everywhere and his father -

He does the only thing he can think of - he taunts them, laughs at the idea of Granger being floated above a crowd of Death Eaters, all laughing and sneering at her, looking at her knickers. Even as the idea of it makes him want to be sick, makes him feel like the lowest form of scum for even pretending that the idea of that happening to her would be anything other than his worst nightmare. She is his friend.

Hermione looks at him with those big, beautiful eyes and he knows she can see the fear in his. Knows that she knows he's deadly serious. That he's scared for her, terrified for her. That she should run, run, run NOW!

She drags Weasel and Scar-head further into the forest and he closes his eyes and tries to control the impulse to run after her and whisk her away somewhere safe, to hell with everyone else.

. . . . . . . . . .

When Hermione absentmindedly refers to him as her best friend three days after returning to Hogwarts, Draco can't help but smile when he realises that she's his best friend too, as impossible as it seems.

He throws one arm over her shoulders and pulls her into a hug. She tucks her feet up and leans against his chest, prattling on about the Dipshit Duo, while he absentmindedly rubs her upper arm and lazily acknowledges how nice it feels to have her close.

He doesn't let go and she makes no attempt to move until they almost miss curfew.

. . . . . . . . . .

The Sunday before Hermione's birthday, in the Room, they realise that for almost nine hours, they've been talking, studying and he's been teaching her to play chess, and they should get back to their dorms.

He doesn't want to leave.

She doesn't want to leave.

. . . . . . . . . .

In the Room, Hermione enchants two ordinary pieces of parchment, turning them into private notes just between the two of them so they can talk covertly in classes and over the holidays. She has one piece and he another. She covers her parchment with a hand and writes him a note.

Draco Malfoy is an arrogant prat who struts around school like a puffed up peacock.

He watches the words take shape on his parchment and smirks.

Hermione Granger needs to learn to accept Draco Malfoy's natural superiority.

She gives him a disgusted look and an exaggerated eye roll but can't contain a small smile and he laughs at her before watching his parchment for whatever insult she comes up with next.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Draco Malfoy realised that Hermione Granger was more than a friend to him when they were once again in the Room one November night. They were working on an essay for Transfiguration and he watched, hypnotised, as she sucked on the end of her quill while proof reading his work for him. It was only after he sat there, his mouth slightly open, barely blinking, for a full two minutes, and watched her plump lips around the end of that quill, wishing it was his cock, that he realised he was in trouble.

. . . . . . . . . .

When Hermione Granger realised that she fancied Draco Malfoy, she was embarassed but couldn't deny it, no matter how hard she tried. He had come to the Room, apologising profusely for Quidditch practice running late and does no one appreciate that he has homework and other things he'd rather be doing than looking for the fucking snitch for the sixth fucking time when it's pissing down with rain and they're not even playing Quidditch this year with the Tournament on so what's the fucking point and it's just fucking rude to scream at someone because they can't fucking see in the fucking dark in the fucking rain and it's hardly his fucking fault that he doesn't have fucking night-vision!

During his rant, he had pulled off his soaking wet Quidditch jersey and used it to attempt to dry his face and hair. Hermione had sat there staring at his chest and wishing he would shut the fuck up and kiss her while she ran her hands up and down his body. The entire time he stood there without a shirt on (she later found out that he'd done it on purpose because he'd fancied her but was too much of a bloody Slytherin to just come out and say it. No. He had to manipulate her and calculate her response. Fucking Snake) she had an internal, pointless battle with herself that consisted of 'it's Draco for fuck's sake, he's one of your best friends!' and 'will he just fucking kiss me already?!' until she admitted to herself that even though she was as close to Draco at that point as she was to Harry and Ron, she'd never seen him the same way she saw them and Merlin, he has a great body.

. . . . . . . . . .

Hermione fled to the Room after Ron's rant that she was 'fraternising with the enemy', even though she told him that she made it clear to Viktor that they could only be friends and the entire Tournament was about making friends. However, Ron ignored that bit in favour of insulting her instead. Of course, she could hardly tell him that nothing would ever happen with Viktor because she wanted to snog the shit out of Draco Malfoy, also their 'enemy', but that's beside the point.

Draco followed her up not three minutes later, having heard the whole thing. He saw her tear-stained cheeks and quivering lip and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug and told her in no uncertain terms how much of a twat Weaselbee was. She held him tighter.

When she calmed down, he pulled her over to their sofa and wrapped his arm around her. She curled herself into his side and told him he's an arse for insulting her friend but at this moment in time, she couldn't give a fuck and he always knows how to make her feel better. Draco laughed and wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her almost on his lap, and held her tight. He told her not to let the Weasel ruin her night, that she looked like she'd had a great time until that arse stuck his nose in, and that she should just ignore him because -

"- he's just jealous, Granger.. Jealous that Krum had the most beautiful girl in the room on his arm."

She blushed furiously at that and looked up at him sharply and was about to say 'that's not true, what about Fleur?' when Draco said,

"I know you don't believe me but you really were, Hermione. The most beautiful girl in the room.. The most beautiful girl in any room.." and he slowly, hesitantly, leaned in and kissed her. Tentative at first, neither having kissed someone before - unless you counted the disaster that was an awkward and highly uncomfortable peck on the lips with Daphne Greengrass in Third Year that lasted less than a second but was just long enough for both of them to come to their senses, visibly recoil from one another, then avoid each other like the plague for a week - but then more forceful, passionate. Draco ran his tongue along her lower lip, asking for entrance, and she complied with a small moan. He buried a hand in her now loose hair and pulled her even closer. She wound her arms around his neck and they kissed each other breathless.

When they parted and caught their breath, Hermione was surprised to find that she was straddling Draco and turned beet red. With his arms still wrapped around her waist, he pulled her slightly and held her against his chest. She sighed contentedly against his neck.

"I wanted to be the one to take you to the ball. To dance with you and hold you close. I want to kiss you in front of the entire school, but I can't.. My father.. I.. It's one thing to publicly not give a shit about blood purity anymore but.. I can't be friends with you out in the open yet, let alone anything more, because of my father, but.. And you deserve so much more than that, so much more than me, but.. Merlin, I like you so damn much, Hermione, and I.. I'd really like to be m-more than friends.. I-I want you to be my girlfriend?"

Hermione raised herself up from his chest and gently pressed her forehead against his. "I know we can't be anything more than indifferent to each other outside this Room. Not yet.. I know most of your Housemates will hate it, and my friends will hate it, and your father will certainly hate it, but I.. I-I like you too and I.. Even if it stays a secret for a while, even if it can't ever last, I.. I want to be your girlfriend," she admitted shyly.

Draco released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, gave a small, relieved laugh and kissed her again; a small, chaste kiss.

Draco squeezed her tight and a few seconds later, took a deep breath, inhaling her perfume. "It will last, by the way. I know it will. I can feel it. The fact that I'm even talking to you is.. Well, what were the chances we'd become friends? Best friends? That we'd even be able to stand the sight of each other? Let alone talk to each other? ..And now this? ..No. If we do this.. If we do this, it will last. Over the summer holidays, I'll have a serious talk with my parents about us. They know how I feel about blood purity and while they're hardly impressed, they also let it go fairly easily - for them - so that's a good sign. I'd talk to them at Easter but I think I should probably give them a few more months to digest the fact that I don't care about their prejudices before I spring my Muggle-born girlfriend on them. Plus, by that time, my friends will have come around to my way of thinking too. They won't care about your blood status anymore than I do, and that should make this easier.. And.. If I absolutely bloody have to, I'll be nicer to Potter and Weaselbee."

He saw her cat-that-got-the-cream smile and couldn't help one of his own.

"For you, mind. Not because I can stand them, because I can't. But.. I'll lay off if it makes it easier for you.. So by the summer, your friends won't go batshit because you're fraternising with the enemy -" he couldn't help but roll his eyes and saw Hermione do the same "- my friends, if they're truly my friends, won't hold your blood status against you, and I'll sit down and talk with my parents.. So, this will last. I promise.. I'll never let you go, you know."

Then he kissed her again and she smiled against his mouth, hoping he was right, because she knew Draco well enough by now to know that in turning their friendship into a relationship, it would be so very, very easy to fall completely in love with him.

. . . . . . . . . .

Hermione walked into the Room for her 'first date' with Draco and was blown away. Instead of the usual living room they inhabited, the Room looked like a private room at a high-class restaurant, with flowers and art on the walls and surfaces, a huge window overlooking the Black Lake, and made complete with a tuxedo-wearing Dobby squeaking about what an honour it is to serve Miss Hermione and Master Draco their very favouritest foods.

But the absolute best part was seeing Draco so unbelievably nervous, and Hermione felt herself falling for him already as he hesitantly kissed her cheek, as though unsure if he were allowed, and as she watched his hands shake slightly as he pulled her chair out for her and poured her some pumpkin juice.

At the end of the night, when Draco bowed over her hand and kissed the back of it before kissing her on the cheek, again hesitantly, Hermione had to mentally slap herself to keep from melting into a puddle of goo at his feet, because it was just so damn gallant and romantic that even after snogging her senseless the day before, he was a perfect gentleman and a nervous wreck at the idea of actually 'courting' her.

. . . . . . . . . .

The first time their relationship progressed to more than snogging, all Draco could think about was how much he hoped to the Gods that he was doing it right as he used his fingers and tongue to make his girlfriend come. When she did, he was too busy thanking Merlin that he hadn't cocked it up - and trying not to come in his pants as she moaned his name - to feel smug about it - a bloody rarity for him.

When Hermione reciprocated, all thoughts flew out of his head completely. When he made the mistake of looking down at Hermione to find her watching his face as she tentatively, then more boldly, sucked his cock, Draco came harder than he ever had in his life after an embarrassingly short amount of time. At first, he intended to apologise for lasting less than a minute and assure her that he would work on that before they had sex - if they had sex - but he took one look at his girlfriend's smug, giddy smile as she cuddled up next to him, and decided not to mention it.

As he rolled onto his side and threw his arm around Hermione's waist, he looked at the beaming smile on her face, felt the joy and smug satisfaction radiating out of her, and knew that now was the time to say what he'd been waiting all day - months, really, if he was being honest with himself - for the perfect time to say.

He pulled her closer, tucked an errant curl behind her ear, and whispered, "I love you."

He didn't think it possible, but Hermione's smile widened even more and Draco's breathing hitched as he thought that smile could have lit up the entire castle. Her big brown eyes sparkled as she whispered, "I love you, too."

He wrapped his arms firmly around her, pulled her flush against him and kissed her until lack of oxygen became an immediate problem. He then rolled onto his back, tucked her into his side and grinned an ear-to-ear grin as she wrapped her arm around his waist and threw one leg over both of his.

"Happy Valentine's day, love."

He felt her small, silent laugh against his chest before she replied, "Happy Valentine's day, Draco."

. . . . . . . . . .

"Draco.. I'm ready," Hermione moaned between frantic kisses.

Draco pulled away to look at her face, wanting to make absolutely sure that she was talking about what he thought she was talking about. They were both naked and he was currently hovering over her, between her thighs. He had just been snogging her thoroughly, wishing he could bury himself inside her, and revelling in the taste of their combined juices after they had feverishly worked to make each other come.

"Wha.. Are you sure?" He asked, unable to quite comprehend what was happening through the haze of lust that had descended on him from the moment they ripped each other's clothes off and she wrapped her beautiful, pouty lips around his cock.

They had been together almost six months, but he knew that having sex was a big thing for Hermione. She wanted to make sure that their relationship was based on more than the physical aspect, that they wouldn't become, essentially, friends with benefits under the illusion of a relationship. Hence why, for two months, they did nothing but snog endlessly, cuddle and hold hands. Draco could see where she was coming from, really. To take a solid friendship and make it a relationship was a big adjustment, and so she wanted them to make an effort to focus on the romance and do things that a normal new couple would do. The problem was, she theorised, they were so comfortable around each other because they were best friends, that it would be easy to overlook the romance and just enjoy the new-found snogging.

Well, that's what Hermione thought was going to happen. Turns out, she was worrying unnecessarily, because Draco found he was quite the romantic. His mother, contrary to popular belief, wasn't cold and unfeeling, but endlessly affectionate - with him anyway - and never hesitated to let him know, in private, and in a myriad of ways, how much she loved him. Draco, it seemed, had inherited that affectionate part of her and it had translated into a romantic and passionate boyfriend for Hermione. He was constantly touching his witch in one way or another, surprising her with gentle caresses or chocolates or books he thought she might like, and was forever telling her how beautiful and perfect she was and how much he loved her. It wasn't like Draco to show weakness. In fact, he absolutely loathed it. He was a Slytherin and a Malfoy, after all. But he was also a firm believer in doing whatever the hell he wanted and getting his own way, which, more often than not, meant touching Hermione. But more than that, he loved her, respected her, cherished her, knew he was the luckiest bugger at Hogwarts to have her, so it would defeat the point to hold himself back and not show her how much she meant to him, especially when his affections made her so happy.

But more importantly, Hermione hadn't been ready for sex, and, truth be told - though he'd sooner Avada himself than admit it - neither was Draco. At least, not until a few months ago. Or, more accurately, when he got the hang of making her come, and her face as she reached her climax was such a turn on that he had to consciously restrain himself from taking her right then and there.

Other than to quietly remind him that she wasn't ready in moments such as these, when they were both naked, still high from their respective climaxes, and the passion was almost tangible between them, they never spoke about sex. She would shake her head or whisper 'not yet', and Draco would simply nod and snog her some more. Draco hadn't wanted to push her into anything before she was ready, he cared far too much about her to risk her regretting anything they did, especially as it would be his first time too. So her sudden announcement that she was ready right now was a shock. A fucking brilliant shock, but still a shock.

Hermione nodded quickly and continued her frantic kisses along his jaw. "I'm ready."

She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him close. Draco groaned loudly as he felt her wet heat against his cock.

Draco mentally thanked all the Gods for Blaise Zabini and his insatiable sex drive, hoping against hope that Blaise's advice on how to make it easier for a virgin would help him avoid causing Hermione any unneccessary pain.

"OK. It might - might hurt. Tell me - tell me if you need me to stop.."

Hermione nodded again as Draco gripped his cock and lined it up against her entrance. He caught her lips with his and kissed her hungrily before asking one more time, "You're sure? You're definitely ready?"

"Draco, I need you," Hermione moaned, continuing her assault on his neck and jutting her hips against his. Draco knew she was still riding the high from her orgasm, that she was still desperately turned on, just like him. But Draco sure as hell wasn't about to argue when she sounded like that.

Draco groaned and pushed inside her, the wetness of her earlier release allowing him to slip the tip inside before her muscles fluttered and clamped down on him, as she tensed beneath him. Draco's breath caught, the sensation of her walls around the head of his cock stealing all coherent thoughts for several seconds. He pressed his forehead to Hermione's to steady himself, one hand still tangled in her hair from their previous kissing, the other moving to rub up and down her thigh until she relaxed. When he felt her muscles relax under his palm, he pushed further into her, inch by inch, listening to her hitched breathing and her painful whimper, pausing when she tensed and sinking further into her when she relaxed, until he was buried inside her as far as he could go.

Draco tried to gain control over his breathing, one hand still stroking the leg he just tossed around his hip, the other arm bracing his weight with his fingers stroking through her hair as he kept his forehead pressed against hers and tried not to come.

"Are you OK?" He growled with supreme effort, the ability to form words all but lost in the face of the indescribable pleasure of his cock inside her, and the inhuman force of will it was taking to refrain from moving as she adjusted to him.

Hermione nodded and let out a tiny groan, her nails digging into the skin of his upper arm and shoulder so hard he thought she may have drawn blood. He couldn't give less of a fuck.

"Draco," Hermione whispered breathily.

Draco clenched his jaw at the erotic way she said his name and tightened his grip on her curls and thigh. He took her whisper as the sign to start moving.

Draco trailed his hand from her thigh to her hip, before gripping it and starting to rock slowly in and out of her, feeling her clenching walls strangling his cock. Even though he'd come not ten minutes ago, he knew he'd be lucky to last two minutes.

He shifted his weight slightly so as not to crush her and the angle of his cock changed slightly. He pushed into her again and -

"Ungh.. Draco."

Draco growled as Hermione dragged her nails down his back. The way she said his name was driving him insane and he dipped his head into her neck as he sped up his thrusts slightly, her walls so tight it was almost hard to move.

"Fuck, Mione.. You're so tight.. So bloody perfect.. Fuck," he gasped.

He could feel her heart hammering against his chest, her nipples grazing his skin as her breasts bounced up and down in time to his slow, deep thrusts. He kissed her jaw, her cheek, her lips, before burying his face in her neck once again and biting down on her pulse point. She moaned loudly again and one of her hands moved up to tangle in his hair.

He wasn't going to last.

Hermione groaned and demanded breathlessly, "Faster.. Please."

Draco couldn't have refused her if he tried. He sped up his thrusts and felt his balls clench in response to how tightly her cunt was gripping him. He tightened his hold on her hair and hip as she dragged her nails down his back, moaning and gasping, as her other hand clenched his hair even harder.

He wasn't going to last.

Draco thought he was going to lose his mind to the moans and mewls she was making, and his thrusts sped up of their own accord, his body acting on instinct.

He was not going to last.

Draco snaked his hand from her hip to her arse, gripping one cheek unapologetically hard as his thrusts deepened.

"Oh Gods. Draco.. Harder, please," Hermione whimpered.

Draco couldn't hold on much longer. He started pounding into her relentlessly, his thrusts becoming frantic, erratic, his hold on her tightening, as she clawed at his back and pulled on his hair and whimpered and moaned his name.

He really wasn't going to fucking last.

Suddenly, Hermione's back arched up off the bed, her cunt clamped down on his cock almost painfully tight, making him swear under his breath, as she loudly called his name as she reached her climax.

"DRACO!"

Draco couldn't take it any longer. He released his grip on her arse and wrapped his arm around her waist as her back arched, his thrusts losing all semblance of rhythm as he fucked her as fast, hard and deep as he could. He was completely lost in her. Beyond all reasoning. He kissed her fiercely, cutting off the last of her moans as she came down from her release, and one, two, three thrusts later, he reached his own climax and thrust into her as hard as could, his mouth wrenched from hers as they both gasped, he at his release and she at his depth. His hips continued to jerk into her as he spilled inside her, as he softly moaned her name, the shudders rippling through her cunt from her release making his own that much better and drawn out.

When he spilled the last of his seed inside her, he collapsed onto her. He untangled his fingers as he stroked her hair with one hand, and held her tight with his other arm, as she wrapped her own around his back and cradled him to her, her legs still wrapped around him.

He would reflect later that night that it was the best three and a half minutes of his entire fucking life.

When he regained control of his breathing, Draco kissed her neck softly before trailing kisses up and down her exposed neck and shoulder, as she rubbed his back and ran her fingers through his hair.

When his cock stopped twitching and her walls stopped fluttering, Draco slowly pulled out of her, hissing at the sensitivity of the cool air hitting his come-soaked cock. Hermione winced as he pulled out completely and her legs automatically clamped shut, keeping Draco cradled against her.

Draco kissed Hermione slowly, savouring the feel of her naked body against his own, before rolling off her and on to his back when she relaxed her legs once more. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against him. Hermione rest her head on his chest and lazily wrapped an arm around his waist, throwing a leg over both of his as she was wont to do. They laid there in silence for several minutes, basking in the afterglow, Draco's hand gently running through her tangled curls, Hermione's fingers tracing unintelligible patterns across his chest.

Suddenly, she stopped her tracing and turned to face him, bending the arm across his chest and resting her chin on her forearm. She looked up at him and smiled, and Draco couldn't help his cheesy smile back as he tucked an unruly curl behind her ear.

"So." She said, still smiling coyly, her eyes dancing with joy and amusement.

"So." Draco said, physically unable to keep the smug grin off his face for having had sex, for making Hermione come too, and for lasting more than ten seconds.

"Happy birthday to you," Hermione said, her voice breaking as she tried to contain her mirth.

Draco laughed and wrapped both of his arms tightly around her.

"A very happy birthday to me," he said, still grinning madly. He kissed his witch and felt her answering laugh against his lips.

. . . . . . . . .

Draco sat on the sofa in the Room, Hermione cradled on his lap like a child as he held her close, his cheek pressed against her curls, feeling her breath against his neck as she toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. He needed to hold her. Needed the contact.

"So, the Dark Lord is back.. There's going to be a war.."

"I'm Harry Potter's Muggle-born best friend.."

"I'm the son of a Death Eater.. The nephew of two more.. Inner Circle, all three of them.."

Hermione hesitated, then said, "We'll be on opposite sides, won't we?"

Draco shook his head fiercely and held her tighter before he said, "No. I'm on YOUR side. Not the Dark Lord's. Not Potter's. Yours. I'm on whatever side you're on."

"But -"

"No, Hermione. I won't join him. I fucking will not join the Dark Lord.. But.. I love my mother, Granger, you know that. More than anything else in the world, except you.. I heard her talking to Father after the World Cup. She didn't want me involved in any of that shit. Even more so now that that psychopath has returned, I suspect. Won't want me getting fucking branded like cattle like my father was.. She loves my father. Loves him to a fault, really. Its a family trait. But she loves me more. She'll stay, keep our family together for as long as she can. Our family is the most important thing to her. But she told him over the summer that if he gets me involved in any of that Death Eater bullshit, she'll kill him in his sleep. I believe her. Father believes her. If he were to push me into joining that bastard, she'd fucking do it, you know.. She's not a good person, my mother. Not in the way that you are. But she's still good, in a way. Yeah, she's prejudiced and is a total bitch to most people, but she's an incredible woman under the surface, Granger. Brave. Strong. Kind and patient and loving to those she cares about. Loyal to a fault when it comes to the people she loves. Guess I get that from her. I realise I'm biased but she's the best mother in the world.."

He paused and tried to gather his thoughts into making his point. He could almost taste the despair rolling off Hermione in waves and he gave her a squeeze and kissed the top of her head.

He continued, his unwavering confidence and pride in his mother infused in every word, "Mother will keep me and herself away from the Death Eaters as much as possible. We probably won't even see any, except Father and maybe Aunt Bella. I can't imagine Father letting them near Mother and I. Not after their chat this summer. He won't be that fucking stupid. Plus, he honestly does love her. There's no chance in hell he'd let those fucking crazies anywhere near her if he could prevent it.. You don't have to worry about being on opposite sides. It will never happen, Granger. I love you too much to do that. My mother loves me too much to let that happen.. But I can't just up and join Potter, either."

Hermione jolted slightly and shifted on his lap, about to interrupt, he knew, but he squeezed her again and voiced the rest of his thought,

"I can't, Granger. If I joined Potter, the Dark Lord would kill my father, his own loyalty be damned. Kill my mother too, and you know I'd rather tear my own heart out than let that happen.. No. I can't join Potter unless my father does - which he won't. But as much as we hate each other at the moment, he's still my father.. Mother and I will just mind our own business at the Manor. We'll be fine. Father is in the Inner Circle and as much as I hate to think about what he did to work his way up the ranks, the position he holds will keep Mother and I out of it, I'm sure.. I can't risk my parent's lives, so I won't join Potter. But I sure as fuck won't join the Death Eaters.. And I can't run off into the sunset with you, as much as I'd like to - love to - and leave my mother behind. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to her and I wasnt there.. I can't.. Even if.. No matter what happens, I can't just leave my mother behind.."

Hermione sighed, unable to argue with his logic. He was right. That's exactly what would happen if he joined Harry and left his parents with that madman. And running away together wan't an option for her either, as much as she wished she could. Like him, she would never forgive herself if something happened to someone she loved if there was even the slightest chance that she could've prevented it by staying. She held him tight, buried her face further in his neck and said, "And I can't leave Harry.. I can't let him do this alone. He just watched Cedric die in front of him, he's not.. I won't let him do this alone."

"I know you won't and I won't bother to ask. Bloody Gryffindor. You're so stupidly loyal -"

"So are you," Hermione interrupted. "You've just admitted you won't leave your mother behind, no matter what happens to you.. And I know you, sweetheart. I know you don't believe you'll be forced to fight and neither do I, not until you're of age at least, if at all. But I also know that if that's what it took to keep your family alive, you'd do it."

She felt more than saw him open his mouth to deny it and pressed on.

"Don't deny it. Please? Do us both a favour and don't lie. You've never lied to me before, even when we were enemies, so don't start now.. You would do it and you know it. If it was the only way to keep your family safe, you would, no matter how much you hated yourself for it.. And I can't fault you for that. I'd do the same.. You say I'm stupidly loyal but you, my love, are loyal to the point of idiocy and I must confess that it's one of the things I love most about you. So please don't deny what we both know to be true.. At least I never have to worry about you running off with another woman, I suppose. My loyal idiot.. And loyalty is just as much a Slytherin trait as a Gryffindor one, you know. 'Snakes take care of their own' and all that."

Draco closed his eyes, sighed, and left a trail of soft kisses across her shoulder, along her neck, up the side of her face, to her hairline, a hand on her back holding her close, and a hand on her thigh rubbing up and down comfortingly. Though whether it was to comfort her or himself, he wasn't quite sure.

His lips at her hairline, he murmured, "I love you, Granger, and nothing's gonna change that. You know that, right? That no matter what happens in the future, I'll always love you. Always be yours. And you'll always be mine? ..You know that, right?"

She heard the unintended question when he said she would always be his. Heard the insecurity in his voice from a lifetime of thinking he wasn't quite good enough, his arrogance and superiority, were, deep down, a facade. For everyone but her. She heard his voice break on that last word and she felt herself fall in love with him even more, if that were even possible, and her heart was breaking at the thought that she might have to give him up someday. But she was a Gryffindor. She was brave. And his fingers on her back and thigh were digging into her skin almost painfully hard and she knew she had to go back to being the strong one now.

"I love you too. I always will. And of course I'm yours. Always."

"Always.." he replied, but his voice was hoarse and he buried his face in her neck and she knew he was barely keeping it together at the thought of losing her, because they weren't naive. Despite Draco's assurances that he'd be kept out of it all, and her agreement, they were the smartest students in their year and they both knew that he being who he was, he'd be too close for comfort to the Dark side, and she being friends with who she was, she'd be an even bigger target than her blood already made her. They both knew that there was a significant chance that eventually, they would be on different sides.

But they weren't at that moment. At that moment, it was just the two of them. They were just two teenagers in love.

Hermione turned her head and kissed him. Slowly. Languidly. Undemanding.

Just the two of them.

. . . . . . . . . .

Hermione checked her enchanted parchment to see if Draco had been in touch. The school year ended two days ago and she hasn't heard from him. He usually writes to her every day, especially in the holidays, even if it's just a quick note before bed.

Before they were they dating, if they couldn't meet in their Room that day, it was usually something along the lines of 'Had a letter from Father today. He was going on and on about how I'm not doing well enough in school. Malfoys are never second best, you should be top of the class! Why aren't you top of the class? Why can't you beat Potter at Quidditch? ..It's only been three bloody days since our last visit to the Room and I actually miss you! Merlin. Never thought I'd miss you when, technically, I've seen you multiple times a day in class, or the Great Hall, or the corridors.. I even miss that bloody beast of yours. What I wouldn't give for you to be nagging my ear off and Crooks to be malting all over my very expensive robes right now. Bloody hell. You're turning me into a fucking Hufflepuff, witch.. Anyway. Night.'

After they started dating and he went home for the Easter break, it was more along the lines of 'I miss you. Well, to be more precise, I miss snogging you senseless. Well, to be even more precise, I miss hearing you moan my name as you come on my face. Don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing "Oh Gods! Draco! Right there! Don't stop, please! Draco!" ..Fuck, I'm so turned on now. I really do love it when you say please.. Really, really wish you were here right now, if you know what I mean.. Seriously though, Granger, I miss you. Wish I was back in our Room, pretending I'm not staring at you while we do homework. I love you. Night beautiful xx'

But it had been two days, three nights, without a word, and Hermione was starting to get worried. Just as she was about to give up waiting and go to sleep, a note started appearing on the parchment.

I'm so sorry, Granger. I never, not for one moment saw this coming.. The Dark Lord is living at the Manor. You know Mother has been teaching me Occlumency since I was young, so I can hide our relationship easily, don't worry about that. And don't panic, I'm fine. Mother never left my side while I was home, she even Transfigured a bed and slept in my room with me. Yesterday morning she insisted on shipping me off to Theo's. Theo's dad is a Death Eater too, but one Death Eater who pretty much ignores his son's existence is significantly better than the Dark Lord himself. Theo and I haven't left his room though, just in case. We're going to Italy with Blaise tomorrow for the remainder of the holidays and won't be coming back until the day before we head off to Hogwarts. I can trust Theo and Blaise with my life, but yours is far too important to me to take that risk, so I'll only write when I know for a fact that they aren't looking over my shoulder.. Granger, I know you, so I'll tell you again - I'm fine. Stop worrying. I am safe. If I wasn't, Mother would've created an illegal portkey and sent us off by now, to hell with father and the law, you know that.. I haven't forgotten our conversation about sides. I know that brilliant brain of yours is contemplating all the different ways this can play out now the Dark Lord has moved in. But we both know there's nothing we can do but wait. I might still avoid the Mark. Mother may convince father to defect and I can join you by Potter's side. Mother may say to hell with it and we'll risk leaving my father behind and again, I can join you by Potter's side. We don't know anything yet, love, so please, please don't overthink this. We've just finished fourth year, Granger. We have three more years of shagging and studying ahead of us, OK? And maybe even several years after that. We just don't know, yet. But remember: I will always be on your side, no matter what. If it comes to it, not even a Dark Mark could change that. I will always be yours. I love you, Hermione Granger and this changes nothing for me. Nothing. I love you and I intend to be spend every possible moment with you until the world goes to shit, OK? I'm not giving up on us. Not ever. I love you. Always. Night beautiful xx

. . . . . . . . . .

It's the second night back Sixth Year and the moment he entered the Room, Hermione was on him, demanding to know what he was doing in Borgin and Burkes. He had been avoiding answering that question the previous thousand times she'd asked since she'd seen him there, only telling her that he loved and missed her on their enchanted parchment each night.

But he couldn't avoid it anymore. Not with the fucking Mark on his arm. Not with his mission.

So he told her everything - his Mark, his mission, his plan, everything.

As he showed his Muggle-born girlfriend the Dark Mark that was branded into his skin, Draco felt inadequate in every possible way. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve anything even close to this. She was goodness and light and all the things that made this life worth living, and he didn't didn't deserve her. In fact, he was so far beneath her it was almost comical. But Gods help him, he was too fucking selfish to ever let her go. Even now, when he knew - he knew - they'd die a slow and bloody death if their relationship was discovered. But he was selfish. He needed her. Now more than ever. And Merlin save him, but he wasn't ready to lose her, even if it cost him his life.

Draco wasn't expecting Hermione to take his news very well, which was just as well, because she didn't.

Hermione was pacing around the Room like a caged predator, as she'd been doing for the last seventeen minutes, yelling herself hoarse at Draco, unable to believe what she was seeing on her lover's arm. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't even of age! He didn't believe in blood purity! He'd avoided the Manor like the plague since that snake returned, so how the fuck did this happen?! This wasn't happening. It wasn't. It wasn't. Not to her Draco. Not to him.

She couldn't tell if she was more furious or devastated. More than that, she couldn't tell what she was more angry or upset about; that he was forced to go through that; that he was being forced to kill Headmaster Dumbledore; that he would either become a murder by the time the year was out or he'd die trying; that despite their protests to the contrary, they really were on different sides of the war now. All she knew was that she was borderline hysterical and on the verge of a significant breakdown. For the sake of her sanity, she stopped focusing on her boyfriend's potential death, and focused on the least important part of what he'd told her because she could handle that - he'd been lying to her all summer.

"You never said Voldemort was interested in you! All summer, I thought you were with Theo and Blaise in Italy again! I thought you were safe! When I saw you in Knockturn, I assumed you'd come back for school supplies, not that you were here the entire fucking time! Why did you lie to me?! You've never lied to me before and you chose this - this! - as the first lie you tell me?! Why didn't you tell me the truth?! I could've handled it, Draco! I'm not some timid bloody wallflower you need to protect from the truth and you bloody well know it!"

Draco finally lost it. He knew she needed to get it all out. Knew that she needed to scream at him and cry on him because that's exactly what he did when he took the Mark; he accepted his mother's comfort and they screamed and cried at the injustice of it as they held each other through the night, both convinced they'd be dead before the school year was out.

But enough was enough. He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to acknowledge his mission. Didn't want to face the fact that he wasn't a killer and he'd be dead within a year as a result. Didn't want to face the fact that the desperate and terrified part of him might take over and kill an innocent man even if he didn't want to, because this was his mother he was fighting for. But mostly, he couldn't have Hermione judging him. Not for anything. Not even for something as trivial in the grand scheme of things as lying to her, no matter how big the lie. Not her. He could take hatred and anger and disappointment from every other person on the planet, but not her.

So he snapped.

"I was being watched!" He bellowed, jumping up from the sofa and pacing the floor just as the enraged witch in front of him was just doing. "For fuck's sake, Granger, my father is in Azkaban! He can't protect me anymore! The Dark Lord lives in my fucking house! My insane Aunt lives in my fucking house! She's completely devoted to him! She follows me fucking everywhere, checking up on me! I had to wait until the early hours of the morning just to tell you goodnight, for fuck's sake!"

Draco turned his back on her and rubbed his face with both hands before obsessively running them through his hair, gripping it tightly, before pacing once more. He was entirely unable to stop the following words from coming out of his mouth because as much as he didn't want to think about it, he knew she had to hear it.

"Granger.. How was I supposed to tell you that the Dark Lord wouldn't let me leave the Manor? That Mother and I were trapped in that fucking house all summer? That on that one occasion when we went to Diagon Alley, there were eyes and ears fucking everywhere, following us? That my Aunt - my Aunt, Granger! - spent many an afternoon fucking torturing me because apparently I wasn't excited enough, proud enough, about the Dark Lord Marking me so young! How the fuck was I supposed to tell you any of that in a fucking note, Hermione? One sodding sentence at three in the morning? Was I supposed to say 'Hey, Granger, I really missed you today when I was being Crucio'd by my own Aunt, hope you've had a great day'? I mean.. I'm fucking sorry, alright? I'm so fucking sorry that I lied to you! But.. Please, can you fucking set aside your indignant rage that I fucked up just once and please look at this from my fucking point of view?!"

Draco ran his hands over his face again and ceased his pacing. He was trying desperately not to cry thinking about the past few months. He didn't mean to tell her about his Aunt. He meant to tell her about being cornered by Bellatrix the second he got back to the Manor in June and being told that he wasn't going anywhere over the summer because the Dark Lord had plans for him. He never meant for her to know about the torture, but fuck if that betrayal didn't sting. His own Aunt for fuck's sake! He just couldn't stop the word vomit.

"You were tortured?" Hermione asked, her voice breaking.

Draco turned to her to say.. something.. and saw tears streaming down her face. Hermione had her arms wrapped around herself and her demeanour was one of someone who was holding themselves very carefully, as if it was sheer force of will that kept them upright, kept them from breaking apart at the seams. But her eyes were what stopped Draco from saying anything else. They were desolate. There was no other word for it. Desolation. And Draco's heart shattered.

Draco walked swiftly over to her and wrapped her tightly in his arms. The moment he touched her, something within her snapped and she fell apart. Draco half-led, half-dragged her over to their sofa and held her tight as she straddled him and held him in a crushing embrace, his head pillowed between her breasts and her fingers digging into his skull, his neck, his shoulders, his back, wherever she could reach, hard enough to draw blood. He held her around the waist just as tightly, trying to comfort her in any way he could, trying to hold her together as she was doing moments ago, though he knew there was nothing to be done.

For what felt like hours, Draco sat there, unable to hold back the tears any longer, as his Hermione clung to him like her life depended on it, as if someone was coming to literally rip him from her arms if she loosened her grip even a fraction, and cried her heart out, her face buried in his hair and her entire body trembling.

Eventually, her tears stopped, the grief in her eyes replaced with an equally terrifying look of reckless determination. Draco already knew what she was going to say - go to Dumbledore, to the Order, and ask for their help - and even though he knew there was no saving him, even though he didn't think he could bare to look the man in the eye and tell him he was going to murder him, even though he didn't think he'd live past this year regardless of whether he actually killed the man or not, Draco knew he'd rather face down Voldemort wandless than see that heartbreaking look of complete despair and hopelessness on his witch's face ever again. He knew that look would haunt him for the rest of his very limited days if he didn't do something.

So he listened to Hermione when she told him she'd go with him to Dumbledore, that she'd vouch for him to Harry and the Order, that she'd even help him fix the Vanishing Cabinet, and he agreed.

"Hermione.." he began after a few minutes of silence, still holding her tightly to him but loose enough to look up at her beautiful, melancholic face. "How can you not hate me for the things I might have to do? How can you not hate me for agreeing to kill a man? You would never do that, I know you wouldn't. You'd never kill someone, no matter the circumstance. I know you wouldn't. Yet, you're still here, still sat on my lap, still have your arms around me, even when you know I'll most likely be either dead or a murderer within the year. A murderer, Hermione. And if by some miracle the Order manages to rescue my mother and I don't have to kill anyone, I still agreed to. I still accepted this mission. I still spent the summer planning how to murder an innocent man.. How the hell can you still look at me as though I'm all that matters in the world to you?"

Hermione cupped his face in her hands and smiled a small smile, tears falling once again at the look of genuine confusion and shame on Draco's face. She wasn't sure how many times she had to tell him that she loved him, how many times she'd have to hold him tight after an argument because he'd convinced himself that he'd finally blown it and she was leaving him, how many times she had to reassure him that he made her happy, before he finally accepted it, but she knew, from the look on his face now, that she'd never forgive Lucius Malfoy for everything he's done to his son. Because now, there was no way he'd ever accept it anymore. He honestly did not think he deserved her. As flattering as it was when he first said it, it was heartbreaking when she found out that he truly meant it, and was even more devastating now, knowing that the Mark that was forced onto his arm would be a constant reminder to him that he somehow failed her, that he somehow wasn't good enough for her. Hermione would never forgive Lucius, or Voldemort, or Bellatrix, for that.

"Because you are all that matters to me," she said softly but firmly before shaking her head slightly.

"Well, that's not quite true. Harry, Ron, Ginny, my parents, this war and everyone and everything we're fighting for matter to me. But you - you - are by far the most important," she added with conviction.

Draco didn't know what to say to that. He knew she meant it, it was obvious in her eyes, her voice, her demeanour. But he would never in his life understand why.

"It is not your fault that you have that Mark on your arm, my love," she continued in the same tone, willing with every fibre of her being for him to understand. "You are a good man. You were given a choice between killing a man you don't really know and watching her mother die bloody. Draco.. Who on Earth wouldn't accept the Mark and the mission if they were given such a choice?"

"You," he said quietly as he choked back tears at her honest declaration that she thought he was a good man.

Hermione smiled, a soft, sad smile, and stroked his cheekbones with her thumbs. "Oh, sweetheart.. Do you really believe that?"

At his confused nod, more tears fell down her already tear-stained face. Her next words were spoken softly, quietly, but the intensity and fire within her eyes had Draco believing her, and loving her all the more.

"If Voldemort offered me the choice between killing someone I've barely spoken ten words to, and losing you.. We'd both be Death Eaters."

. . . . . . . . . . .

Draco sat in Dumbledore's office, staring at his hands in his lap as Hermione told Dumbledore and Severus about everything - their friendship; their relationship; their enchanted parchment; the real reason for his very public complete about-face with regards to blood purity; his Mark; his torture; his mother's plight; even his father's never-ending and impossible expectations of him growing up; his mission from the Dark Lord; his home being taken over by Death Eaters; his plan to fix the Vanishing Cabinet; and his true allegiance to Hermione and Potter. Everything.

"Basically, Headmaster.. Draco is trapped between a rock and a hard place. If there is anything you can do, anything at all, we'd be forever grateful.. But.. If there isn't.." Hermione took a deep breath and out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see her draw herself up to her full height and couldn't help but smile slightly at how much her 'Gryffindor Princess' moniker befitted her in that moment, sat regally in her chair like the Queen of Hogwarts, her back straight, her eyes determined and her voice fierce and unwavering, despite the tear tracks on her cheeks. "If there isn't, then he's still going to fight for us in any way he can. And I'm going to do everything in my power to help him. Or die trying."

There was several seconds of silence and Draco thought he might be sick.

"Draco."

Draco closed his eyes. He didn't dare look up. He fully expected to see shame and disgust on the Headmaster's face because despite wanting to do the right thing, he still agreed to murder the man in cold blood. Still agreed to join a group hell-bent on butchering his own girlfriend and those just like her. A group known for it's brutality. After all, how could Dumbledore, King of the Gryffindors, Leader of the Light, defender of puppies and unicorns and rainbows, possibly understand what it's like to be raised to hate an entire race of people, to be encouraged to use the Dark Arts to inflict pain and suffering, to be raised in an environment where bullying the lesser orders is rewarded, only to take a leap of faith and turn your back on all of it, just to be dragged back into it for the sake of the very people who put you through it?

How could Dumbledore understand that the psychological damage his father unknowingly inflicted left him with such a deeply ingrained sense of proving himself to a man who doesn't give a shit about him, that even now - even now - when his father's decisions have ruined his fucking life, he still, on some level, wanted to fucking please him and protect him? How could Dumbledore understand why his mother, the one and only person in his entire life to give him unconditional love and acceptance - except Hermione - which was withheld from him as a child for so Godsdamn long by his father, his idol, is so fucking important as to warrant him sacrificing his morals? Everything he now believed in? His easy relationship with Hermione? Most likely his life? How could Dumbledore possibly understand what it's like for a child to be so unbelievably alone, alone except for his mother, because of prejudice and the 'pureblood way' and 'behaviour befitting a Malfoy', and why her life would be worth killing someone and tipping the scales of the war in the Dark Lord's favour?

Hermione understood him. She understood that she and his mother were the only two people in his entire life to know every single thing about him, to really see how damaged and fucked up he truly was, and love him anyway.

His friends and Severus knew him. They loved him. But they only knew and loved the pieces of him he allowed them to see. He only knew and loved the pieces of them they allowed him to see. They didn't see the damage, the insecurity, the vulnerability. Not often, at least. Just as he didn't see theirs often either. They knew each other, loved each other, were loyal to each other. But it was limited.

Hermione and Narcissa saw and understood every single part of him and loved him anyway.

Hermione also knew that he would watch the Dark Lord burn the world to ash if meant saving the two of them. Fuck everyone else. She didn't approve. Not in the slightest. In fact, she felt the exact opposite. But she understood. He didn't care that it was selfish. He was a selfish prick, he could admit that.

But Hermione and Narcissa were the be-all and end-all of his existence because they saw the damage, saw all his faults and flaws, his insecurities and vulnerabilities, his weaknesses, and they loved him anyway.

How could someone like Dumbledore understand that?

He couldn't.

"Draco."

Draco reluctantly, hesitantly, slowly, opened his eyes and looked up at the Headmaster, only to be stunned by the raw empathy in the man's eyes.

Dumbledore smiled warmly, that infamous twinkle in his eyes, and said, "I have known you and watched you for just over five years now, Draco, and never once have I thought you capable of anything less than the outstanding bravery and strength of character you've just displayed by walking into this office.. I am not your father, but for what it's worth.. Draco, I am so proud of you."

Draco looked at Severus, his godfather, the man who was more a father to him than Lucius ever was or could be, and was stunned all over again to see the man smiling - honest to Merlin smiling - his eyes filled with love and pride.

Draco looked over at Hermione and wasn't at all surprised. Tears were spilling down her cheeks once again as she reached over and took his hand firmly.

"I told you they'd understand. None of this is your fault. No one blames you. No one's judging you for that Mark, for accepting your mission.. You are a good man, sweetheart, and we can all see that," she said with steel in her voice and fire in her eyes, despite the tears.

And Draco burst into tears of his own.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Draco was once again in Dumbledore's office with Hermione, Severus, his estranged Aunt Andromeda and the man himself. They were discussing plans to keep him alive and as safe as possible after he doesn't-really-but-for-the-sake-of-appearances attempts to kill Dumbledore.

He was going to be a spy.

Dumbledore had been impressed by the ingenuity and simplicity of his and Hermione's secret method of communication - the enchanted parchment - and decided that as long as the notes on the parchment were only visible to the intended reader, then it was as safe a method of communication as Draco was going to get.

As per his Unbreakable Vow - Draco wasn't in the least bit surprised that his mother would circumvent the Dark Lord's orders to keep his mission a secret. Instead, when his godfather told him what his mother had done, what he had promised her, for a moment, Draco didn't hate himself for taking the Mark, for accepting his mission, for protecting that amazing woman he called Mum. No. He was reminded once again of all the reasons why he loved her, why he'd put himself through all of this shit a thousand times over if it kept her from harm - Severus would kill Dumbledore in his stead and would no longer be able to pass on information to the Order as they would never trust him again. But he could pass information on to Draco, who they had already decided was not to return for Seventh Year but stay at home under the guise of 'keeping an eye on the Malfoys after their failures', and spy as best he could. As the Dark Lord was still at the Manor regularly, and he would have every reason to visit his godson while he was there, Severus could easily pass information to Draco, then Draco to Andromeda, and Andromeda to the Order.

Draco had chosen his Aunt for his contact because Hermione was out of the question as she would be on some 'special mission' from Dumbledore with Potter and the Weasel that even the entire Order - bar Severus - wasn't privy to. When he discovered she would be on some 'special mission', only the knowledge that no one but Severus and Dumbledore knew of it's purpose because the entire war and thus, the fate of Wizard and Muggle kind, depended on it kept him from losing his shit completely and demanding he be told where his girlfriend was going, what she would be doing, who she would be talking to, and insisting that the entire Order, the DA, the bloody Hogwarts staff, accompany her.

His Aunt was the next best thing, contact wise. She was family, estranged or not, and family, whether it was through blood or through love, meant a great deal to Draco. Andromeda would tell the Order that it was on Dumbledore's orders that his identity remain a secret to only her, and in turn, if she was ever captured or threatened, Draco would protect his cousin, Nymphadora, as best as he possibly could without blowing his cover and damning himself and his mother and with his death, costing the Order vital information.

But Draco was terrified. For himself. For Hermione. For his mother. For Severus. For Andromeda and Nymphadora. For Theo. For Blaise. For Pansy and Daphne and Tracey and Millie. Even for Potter and this 'special mission' of his. Truthfully, he was terrified for the whole damn world and until Potter killed that fucking monster, Draco didn't think he'd ever not be terrified again.

. . . . . . . . . . .

As Hermione entered the Room, she could tell immediately that Draco had something special planned. Instead of their usual cosy living room with a bed in the corner set-up, the Room was decked out to resemble an extravagant hotel suite, complete with a huge, ornate fireplace, a large gilded mirror above it, a large, lavish, queen-sized four poster bed bedecked with soft silk sheets and gauzy bed hangings, and floor to ceiling windows with an exact replica of the view of Hogwarts castle, the black lake, the forest, the grounds and the surrounding landscape. The sun was just setting past the castle turrets, snow coating the castle, grounds and trees, ice on the surface of the Black Lake shining in the rainbow light from the setting sun, and if Hermione hadn't known the castle was magical before, that view would've convinced her. It was beyond words.

Once again, Hermione was blown away by the Room's magic.

Standing by the fire to her right, dressed in formal dress robes and looking very debonair, stood Draco. She felt almost indecently under dressed in her jeans and hoodie.

As Hermione looked up at the dozens of floating candles lighting the room that had caught her eye, she could feel Draco's eyes on her. She turned her head to face him, a giddy, albeit confused smile on her face.

"What's all this?" she asked with awe.

Draco didn't respond but walked towards her and took both her hands in his before pulling her away from the doors and to the centre of the room. Up close, Hermione could see that he was nervous. In fact, he looked just shy of terrified. When he let go of her hands to run his own through his hair, tugging it slightly - a habit he indulged in whenever he was nervous, uncomfortable or frustrated - she knew something was bothering him.

"Draco, is everything alright?"

He gave her a tight smile and nodded jerkily before clearing his throat.

Hermione was just about to ask why he was so nervous, because obviously something was on his mind - he was never this shifty, even when he'd said or done something he knew would infuriate her - when Draco suddenly dropped to one knee in front of her.

Oh, fuck me. Bloody fucking hell. Is this happening? Is he about to.. to.. propose?!

Draco cleared his throat once more before visibly forcing himself to relax. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and determinedly met her wide eyed gaze.

"Hermione Jean Granger, I love you. I've loved you for two years now and they've been the best two years of my life. I wouldn't change a single moment of the time I've spent with you.. I can think of a thousand reasons why we shouldn't do this right now, and I bet you can think of a thousand more. But.. While I'll admit that I'm doing this a little sooner than I originally planned - I intended to ask for your hand the moment we graduated, the rest of the world be damned - but this year will be our last here, so here I am. Asking for your hand.. I love you, Granger. You are beautiful, brilliant, kind, compassionate, loving, fierce, and although I don't have any basis for comparison, you're amazing in bed, and sexy as hell when you're angry."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh and the tears that she'd been holding back slipped out.

"You are everything I've ever wanted and all I've ever need. I know that in the Muggle world, we'd be considered too young right now to know what we're doing. But I think that both of us have had more than enough life experience in the last few years to make this kind of commitment.. You're it for me, Hermione. You're my soulmate. My everything. And I've known for a very long time now that my life wouldn't be worth living without you.."

Draco faltered slightly. He couldn't hold her eye and his hands started to shake as he pulled a small black box from his pocket and held it up to her.

"Hermione.. I love you, Hermione Jean Granger, and I will love you for the rest of my life.. Will you marry me?"

With that, he opened the box and showed her the ring. It was perfect. Everything she had ever wanted in an engagement ring and exactly to her tastes. It was clearly an heirloom of some kind and probably cost a small fortune, but it wasn't immediately apparent just how expensive it was. It was simple, classy and tasteful. The exquisite but modest diamond shone brightly as it reflected the sunset shining through the windows.

As Hermione looked from the ring back to Draco's terrified, hopeful and adoring face, she didn't even need to think about her response. After all, she knew, just as he did, that he was her soulmate. There would never, could never, be anyone other than him that she could envision spending the rest of her life with. And with the war heating up, that could be a very short life indeed. She intended to spend every moment of the rest of her life, however long or short it may be, as his.

"Yes! Merlin, Draco, yes! Yes! I would love to marry you!"

The relief and joy on Draco's face made Hermione fall in love with him all over again. His smile threatened to completely take over his face, it was so large. She held out her hand and he barely had time to slip the ring on her finger before she threw herself into his arms, kissing him heatedly. Well, as heatedly as she could manage through tears and laughter.

As Draco pulled them both to their feet, Hermione admired the ring once more, unable to quite believe that it was real, that this was really happening. Her attention was pulled from the beautiful stone back to Draco when he cupped her face in his hands. He pressed slow, reverent kisses to her forehead, nose and cheeks that made Hermione cry once more, before recapturing her mouth and kissing her soundly. Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him towards the bed.

An hour later found Draco and Hermione side by side on the bed, too exhausted to do much more than loosely hold hands. For thirty five minutes - Draco knew because he kept one eye on the clock on the nightstand as it wouldn't do to be caught out after curfew this year - Draco had kissed and caressed every inch of Hermione's skin, leaving her almost sobbing from frustration as he teased her mercilessly, bringing her almost to the point of climax before backing off and once more kissing her all over. After thirty five minutes and her fifth almost-orgasm, Hermione had evidently had enough as she let out what could only be described as a roar of frustration, removed his head from between her thighs by yanking his hair none too gently, crushed his lips to hers in a bruising kiss, flipped him over onto his back and rode him like a professional dragon tamer. She came only seconds later but refused to let him come until she came a second time, slowing her pace and rhythm whenever he was close.

It was torturous.

He fucking loved it.

When he finally came, listening to his fiancee all but scream his name as she climaxed, her eyes locked on his, her fingernails digging into his chest and her pace never faltering as he gripped her hips strong enough to bruise and slammed her down on him once, twice, three times, he honestly thought he may have blacked out for a moment from the sheer force of his orgasm.

Hermione had eased herself off of him before collapsing beside him. While normally he would hold her after they had sex, he couldn't actually summon the energy to do more than move his hand to wrap his fingers around hers. Just keeping his bloody eyes open was proving a challenge.

"Draco?"

Draco turned his head to face Hermione and blinked several times to focus on her face.

"Yes, love?" He asked, his words only slightly slurred.

"I can't wear this in public -" Hermione waved the hand with her engagement ring "- for obvious reasons, so I'm going to keep it safe in it's box at the bottom of my school trunk. I don't want to risk losing it by carrying it around with me just so I can wear it when we're alone in here. If it were to fall out of my bag or my pocket I'd never forgive myself. Plus, if I ever forgot to remove it and someone saw - especially Lavender or Parvati, you know what gossips they are - I'd either have to Obliviate them or rapidly think up a story about why I'm suddenly wearing a pretty impressive engagement ring when I've never once even hinted at having a boyfriend.. I'm sorry," she finished, looking at him with an expression somewhere between apologetic, pleading and 'be reasonable'.

"It's fine, love", Draco said with a small, slightly sad smile. "I already knew when I gave it to you that you'd have to hide it until we could be together publicly. It.. I don't like the idea, obviously. You're mine. My fiancee. You should be able to go back to Gryffindor tower and show off that ring. Gossip with Weaselette about how I proposed and the mind-blowing shag we just had. Listen to the Gryffindork blokes moan halfheartedly that you're marrying a Snake. Make Brown and Patil sick with envy over that ring.. I should be able to scream it from the bloody rooftops that you said yes. I should be able to have a congratulatory drink with the Slytherins. Spend the rest of the night listening to Blaise try to wind me up about only shagging one bird in my whole life. Listen to Pans and Daph talk nonstop for the next month about wedding shit.. But we can't. I knew that before I proposed, and I know that now."

Hermione smiled sadly in response and squeezed his hand. Draco returned the gesture before determinedly shaking away the sudden melancholy.

"But I couldn't very well have proposed without a ring, now could I? I mean, you might've said no. I know I'm an impressive specimen and you're the luckiest girl in the world to have snatched me up, but without such an impressive ring, you might've turned me down. I couldn't risk it", he said with a playful smirk.

Hermione returned his smirk with one of her own. "Oh, I definitely would've turned you down, Malfoy. I only said yes when I saw this beautiful thing."

She flashed the ring in his face before admiring it herself.

"I was all set to tell you to stop being so ridiculous, that of course I couldn't marry a prat like you. But you then you showed me this. I simply had to have it, and if it meant marrying you.. Well. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

"Bitch", he said, smirking and nudging her with the hand still holding hers.

Hermione smiled before wiggling closer to him and draping herself across his chest, one leg thrown over his, as always. Together, they admired the ring on her finger from it's place on his chest. After a few minutes, Draco spoke again.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to wear it but I can't stand the thought of you not having it on you. Do you think you could wear it around your neck? You never take off the sapphire necklace I bought you. Could you attach the ring to that? The necklace is long enough that you can't see the sapphire when you're wearing your school robes unless you're looking right down your bra, so no one should be able to see it."

"Spend a lot of time trying to look down my shirt at my boobs, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, amused.

"Not as much time as I spend looking at your arse when you walk to class, Granger", Draco replied in a serious voice as he used the hand that had been resting on her naked hip to squeeze said arse.

Hermione laughed and slapped his chest lightly. She removed his hand from her backside and wrapped his arm around her waist before snuggling closer to him.

"OK. I'll put it on my necklace. I'll have to remember to tuck it under my pyjamas when I get up in the mornings but considering Lavender and Parvati are too busy obsessively doing their make-up at the crack of dawn each morning to pay much attention to me getting dressed, that should be fine.. But.. Not right now, OK? I want it to stay where it belongs for now. Just for tonight, just between us, I want to enjoy my engagement ring," she finished wistfully, admiring the ring once more. It really was beautiful. And perfect for her.

Draco hugged her closer, basking in the thrill that raced through him when she said 'my engagement ring'. He still couldn't believe she said yes. She said yes. Draco Malfoy was going to marry Hermione Granger. The Gryffindor Princess. The brightest witch of their age. The bookworm. He was going to bloody marry her. And Draco didn't think he'd ever been happier in his life. Not the first time they kissed. Not when she agreed to be his girlfriend. Not the first time they had sex. Not when she accepted his Dark Mark and the role he was forced to play in the war yet stayed with him anyway. Not even when she said she loved him. No. Hearing her say 'yes'. Having her agree to spend the rest of her life with him. To be his. Forever. That was definitely the happiest moment of his life. Draco would bet every last knut he possessed that if he were to cast the Patronus charm right now, it would be so big and so bright that the Dementors would feel it all the way from Azkaban.

Draco hugged her even closer, almost crushing her to him, and buried his face in her ridiculously bushy, 'I've-just-shagged-my-fiance-to-within-an-inch-of-his-life' hair.

"I really do love you, Granger", he mumbled, bringing his other arm up to finger the ring on her hand still resting on his chest.

"You best get out of that habit."

"Huh?" He asked, contentment, happiness and empty balls making him sleepy again.

"Granger. You best get out of the habit of calling me Granger."

He smiled against her hair before pulling back and meeting her eyes as she looked up to face him.

"Mmmm. What will I call you, then?" He asked, still grinning like an idiot and wanting so badly to hear her say it.

Hermione smiled indulgently. "You can call me Malfoy, Malfoy."

Draco thought he must definitely look like a loon because he smiled so wide his cheeks hurt and he barely managed to get the words out when he replied,

"I really do love you, Malfoy."

Hermione laughed and leaned up to kiss him.

"I love you too, Malfoy", she murmured against his lips.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Draco grabbed Theo, Blaise, Pansy, Daphne, Millie and Tracey just before curfew and took them to the Room of Requirement. He'd already decided that they would stay there overnight, hashing out every possible consequence of what he was about to tell them. It was just a matter of days before he 'fulfilled his mission' and he'd be fucking damned if he didn't do everything in his power to save his friends' lives.

When they were all sat in armchairs in a different version of the Room to the one Draco shared with Hermione, Draco stood in front of them and prepared to tell them just enough to get them to listen.

"I'm not a Death Eater."

His friends looked at him in confusion before Tracey tentatively asked, "What? Drake, you.. you have the Mark."

Draco ran one hand through his hair and said, "Yeah, I have the Mark but I'm not really a Death Eater -"

"We know that, mate. We know you'd never do this if there wasn't a good reason," Theo, his oldest friend, interrupted, his voice almost unbearably kind.

"Yeah, Drake, we know that. We have seen you this year, you know. We already know you're not doing any of this because you want to," Pansy, the girl he'd known since before he could walk, added, her eyes scared and miserable but her face impassive, as always.

"No. I know you know I'm not doing this because I want to, but I need you to listen to what I'm about to say, OK? And you can't ask any questions, alright? You can't know the specifics. It's too fucking dangerous for you to know what I'm about to tell you in the first place, let alone the details, OK?"

They all nodded slowly.

"Yes, technically I'm a Death Eater.. But I'm also a member of the Order of the Phoenix.."

His friends took a moment to digest what he'd said and the implications of it, and then Tracey suddenly burst into tears and threw herself at him. Draco held her tight, rubbing her back, his eyes shifting between each of his friends still seated.

He watched as understanding and fear appeared in all of their eyes. Theo, then Daphne, then Blaise, then Pansy, then Millie.

"Drake.." Daphne said, her voice wavering.

Draco loosened Tracey's death grip on him and nudged her back to her armchair where Pansy and Millie wrapped an arm each around her.

"I need to know, right here, right now. No more evasive Slytherin bullshit. We're doing this the bloody Gryffindor way.. This is huge. If I'm discovered.. If it's discovered that you knew my loyalty this whole time.. Are all of you still loyal to me in light of this? Will you stand by me? Fight with me?" Draco asked.

"Of course we fucking will, you idiot," Pansy snapped instantly. Typical.

"Of course I will, Drake. You're my best friend. My oldest friend. Of course I'm with you," Theo added, his voice quiet but firm.

"Absolutely," Blaise said, his voice clear and determined.

"Of course I am. With my filthy blood, it's not like I have a choice even if I wanted one. First it's Muggles and Muggleborns, then they'll start on the half-bloods, like me. You know they will," Tracey said bitterly. "So of course I'm loyal to you. To all of you. To the Order. Even if my blood was purer than Drake's, I'd still be loyal to you."

"You're my brother, Drake. You and Theo and Blaise. Pansy, Millie and Tracey are my sisters just as much as Tori is. We're family. End of discussion. Of course, I'm loyal to you, as you are to me," Daphne said in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Snakes stick together, Drake. No matter what," Millie said. "And Daphne's right. We're family. I'm loyal to you. Always have been and always will be."

Draco sagged with relief and smiled. "I knew none of you would turn your backs on me but I had to ask.. Can't abandon your Prince, eh?"

The girls shook their heads and laughed, Theo rolled his eyes and Blaise snorted.

"You know," Blaise drawled, "I've never understood why you're the so-called 'Slytherin Prince'. It should really be me. I am far better looking than you. Far more cunning and devious than you. And far, far better with the ladies." At this, he winked at Tracey, who, despite the tears still falling down her face, raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow and eyed him hungrily.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Besides," Blaise continued, "I'm the epitome of a Slytherin. Haughty, ambitious, cunning, loyal, devilishly handsome, unbelievably charming, witty, intelligent, blah blah blah. You, my dear Death Eater, are a fucking Hufflepuff in comparison."

Pansy laughed out loud and everyone else snickered as Draco looked at Blaise, affronted. "Bloody hell, Blaise, that was uncalled for! I am not a fucking Hufflepuff! And I'm all of those things you said, too, you know!" he added petulantly.

"Yeah, alright mate." The cocky twat had the gall to roll his eyes.

"She-Weasel," Theo faux-coughed into his fist.

Blaise glared at him murderously as they all laughed and Draco had to remind himself that they were all there for a bloody reason.

"Anyway. I brought you all here for a reason."

His friends looked up at him, joking forgotten and waited for him to continue. Draco took a deep breath and willed himself to keep it together.

"Something's about to happen. Something really, really fucking bad. I'm not kidding. I'm not exaggerating. This.. This is gonna change everything. No one will be safe here. Not anymore."

"What are you saying, Drake?" Daphne asked worriedly. Blaise reached over and grabbed her hand.

"I need every single one of you to either get the fuck out of the country or.. Or join the Order. You need to fucking hide. Run if you can. And when the time comes.. you need to fight with me. We cannot lose this war, and after what's about to happen happens.. Things will get really fucking bad, really fucking fast."

His family looked at him, their expressions varying between fear, determination, disbelief and misery.

"It's not Potter, is it?" Millie asked. "This very bad thing.. It's not about to happen to Potter, is it?"

Draco shook his head fiercely. "No. Not Potter. Never him. It's.. When it happens, you need to remember that it's not what it looks like, that I'm a secret member of the Order playing the part of a Death Eater, and that it's all planned out, OK? You need to trust me because it's.. It's Dumbledore.. My mission is.. is Dumbledore."

Within seconds, every single one of them worked out what Draco couldn't bring himself to say out loud - that he'd spent the last year planning the murder of the Leader of the Light, and in a week's time, would succeed.

"Oh fucking hell.." Theo whispered. "Oh fucking, fucking hell."

Pansy whimpered.

Daphne and Millie looked away, closing their eyes tightly.

Tracey started crying again, silently.

Blaise buried his face in his hands.

"This is too fucking real. This whole fucking year. Watching you.. Watching you almost kill yourself with stress and now this? ..Fucking hell.." Pansy said, her voice breaking.

"I know," Draco said, his eyes and voice pleading and so fucking apologetic. "I know, Pans."

Draco asked the Room for another armchair and threw himself into it, facing his friends. "From your reactions, I trust you've all worked out what the consequences will be with Dumbledore.. gone.. Now you know why I had no choice but to warn you, to take this risk. To make you understand.. You.. We can't stop what's about to happen, but we sure as shit have a choice about what to do in the aftermath.. Potter.. When the time comes, and Potter and the Dark Lord have their big, predestined death match.. I don't want you to - I really fucking don't want you to - but we can't just do nothing. I will not do nothing.. I had to warn you. You have to decide. Stay out of the fucking way until the final battle, run to the fucking continent if you can, but.. I can not and will not sit idly by and lose this fucking war. I have too much to fucking lose.. And I'm telling you now that you need to decide what you're gonna do. But in the meantime.. In the meantime, it's gonna be really fucking bad.. Truly fucking bad and you need to prepare to get the fuck out or to run to the Order and beg them to hide you until it's time.."

"My family will leave for the continent. There's no doubt in my mind. No way on Earth will they stay here with Dumbledore gone," Tracey said firmly, all traces of tears gone from her eyes.

"Mine, neither. Me, my father and my grandmother will move to the continent, too. They won't take no for an answer, even if I begged them to stay," Millie added.

"Good," Draco said firmly. "Don't you fucking dare stay behind if you can get out, OK? If you're loyal to me, to all of us, if you love us, you'll fucking run, alright? You'll run and you'll be safe. And you won't ever fucking look back.. Not until it's time, if you decide to fight with us, or until it's over."

Tracey and Millie both nodded and started crying brokenly. Daphne wasn't much better. Pansy was only holding back her tears through what Draco knew was sheer force of her almost indomitable will.

Draco got up and knelt down in front of Tracey and Millie, placing his hands on their pyjama covered thighs. "Please. Please get out. We have no idea how long this war will last. It could be years. So please, I'm begging you - and you know I never beg for anything - Get out, OK? Go to the continent and Do. Not. Look. Back.. Not until Potter's ready, if you can make it back in time. Or until it's all over. Your choice. And I won't think any less of you if you don't want to fight, you know I won't.. But I will. I have to."

Tracey and Millie grabbed him and he wrapped his arms around them and held them tight. Pansy had lost the internal battle and she and Daphne were silently crying. Blaise had his head in his hands and his shoulders were shaking. Theo was furiously wiping at his eyes.

"What about you?" Tracey mumbled, her voice muffled from having her face buried in his neck, but still clear enough to hear every word and the terror laced in them. "You'll be surrounded by Death Eaters, Drake, and after what you just told us about your loyalty.. You'll.. At least all of us will be here, where it'll still be somewhat safe with Snape and McGonagall, or in hiding, or with the Order, or on the bloody run. But you.. You'll be right in the middle of it all, Draco. Right at the heart of the war. Gods, you'll be surrounded by the enemy!" She all but shouted in his ear, just shy of hysterical and clinging to him painfully.

"Don't you dare worry about me, Tracey Anne Davis!" Draco said, his voice loud and harsh, making her jump. "You keep yourself safe and don't you dare worry about me. I'm.. I'll be fine, alright? I'm gonna be just fine."

Blaise let out a shuddering breath and his entire body convulsed. All four girls cried harder. Theo had one hand over his eyes, his other gripping the arm of his chair in a white knuckled death grip, and wasn't even attempting to hide his whimpers.

They all knew he was lying. They knew it was bullshit. He wouldn't be safe. Not at all.

Since the Dark Lord returned, Draco, Theo, Daphne and Pansy had all been treated to stories of the 'joy' and 'honour' of being Death Eaters and they had shared with Tracey, Blaise and Millie. Their fathers were all either Death Eaters or sympathisers and they all knew what they got up to. They knew they murdered, tortured, raped and beat innocent people. They may have given up their blood prejudice years ago, but they still loved their families and were loyal to them. But this.. Hearing the horror stories of what their fathers did.. Not a single one of them had any delusions as to what life would be like if the Dark Lord won. And not a single one of them wanted any part of it. They would protect their mothers, sisters, the innocent members of their families, but not a single one of them had any compunction against fighting against their fathers. Not after what they'd done. Love and loyalty could only forgive and ignore so much.

Then there was the fact that the Dark Lord liked to 'punish' those who displeased him. Draco wasn't a good enough actor to appear to enjoy the depravity that the other Death Eaters revelled in. He knew that. Hermione knew that. Dumbledore knew that. Severus knew that. His friends knew that. Everyone knew that being a spy, being forced to take part in the Death Eater's activities in even a small way, would destroy Draco. And his reluctance would be noticed eventually. But everyone also knew that he had no choice, not unless he wanted Narcissa to die screaming. Draco was going in to this knowing he was going to be 'punished', knowing he would blacken his soul for the cause and his mother's life and the smallest chance of winning the war and keeping Hermione safe. Knowing there was a strong possibility that he would die long before the Final Battle comes around.

Now, with his double agent status, he was even greater danger.

Draco blinked furiously and refused to cry. He needed to be strong. Like Hermione. He needed to be strong for his friends like Hermione always was for him.

A few minutes later, Daphne confessed that she couldn't leave without Astoria and her young cousins, and her Uncle would never let her steal her cousins away, even if she and Astoria somehow managed to sneak away from their father's watchful gaze - her Uncle was a sympathiser and her father was a Death Eater. Draco knew this of course, but still tried to convince her to leave anyway, to grab Astoria and hope for the best for her cousins, as callous and heartless as it sounded. When she rightly refused, as Draco knew she would, Theo - who could leave anytime he wanted because he hated his father and wouldn't care if the bastard was murdered by the Dark Lord for his son's disloyalty - said he would stay behind too and wouldn't hear a damn word to the contrary. Blaise, who could similarly leave at any time because his mother was more interested in marrying old men all over the continent for their Galleons than an upcoming war, also decided to stay. Pansy, too, resented her mother and hated her father, but refused to leave, knowing this war was too important to run if she had the option of staying behind.

Draco had yelled at them and told them that they were being fucking idiots, that he just wanted them to be safe, that he would run if given half a chance and return for the Final Battle. But he had been put in his place when Theo asked him if he would rather they leave Daphne and Astoria all on their own, because Gods know Draco couldn't look after them with that fucking Mark on his arm. They all knew that all the Slytherin girls could look after themselves, Daphne and Pansy in particular were vicious when they wanted to be, but against Death Eaters and Dark Lords..? Not that Theo or Blaise or Pansy stood a hope in hell, but at least the Greengrass girls wouldn't be alone. Left all alone to look out for themselves, look out for each other, look out for the whole of Slytherin House, while Draco was risking his life, and Tracey and Millie were in hiding with their families, and Blaise and Theo and Pansy were protected by the Order.. Theo, Blaise and Pansy needed to stay behind and join the Order in secret because there was a fucking good chance that Draco, their unofficial leader, might not be coming back. Ever.

"So you told them you're a spy, told them to run or join the Order, and fight for us when the time comes," Hermione said, having just heard Draco's retelling of his conversation with his friends.

"Yeah.. I couldn't.. couldn't leave without giving them a heads up.. We're all known blood traitors. We gave up blood superiority long ago. Publicly. Blaise and Theo haven't exactly been secretive about shagging half a dozen half-bloods and Muggleborns each. For fuck's sake, it's well known throughout the school that Pansy lied about her age and shagged Donaghan Tremlett after the Yule Ball, Fourth Year. The Muggle-born bass player of the Weird Sisters. Her dad threatened to beat her to death when he found out and that was before the fucking Dark Lord returned. She had to stay with Tracey that summer after her dad sent her a Howler telling her exactly what he was gonna do to her and if she did anything like that again, he'd disown her completely. Not that she cared, but being fifteen and homeless isn't the best fate.. Kinda hard to hide our blood traitor status when we outright declared that we don't believe in that shit and when rumours like that are flying around the fucking school.. The Dark Lord told me when I was Marked that he knew I didn't give a fuck about blood purity. No doubt fucking Crabbe and Goyle wrote home to their daddies the minute we made our opinions known, who just fucking loved turning us all over to the Dark Lord when he came back.. I was Marked for an important mission and to punish my father, so I'm useful and necessary at the minute, but you know how he feels about blood traitors. The others.. The others would be about as safe as the fucking Weasleys if he gained complete control. Daphne and Astoria can't leave, I get that, and I feel better knowing that their father does actually love them both to pieces and will protect them as best he can, despite being a fucking Death Eater. And I get why Theo, Blaise and Pansy don't want to leave them behind.. But I'm fucking scared for them.. I just thank the Gods that Tracey and Millie will be dragged away kicking and screaming by their families. They'll be safe. However temporary, at least they'll be safe. But the others.. They needed to be prepared for when he takes over Hogwarts.. Prepared in general.. The sooner Mills and Trace get out, the better. If I could've convinced Pans and Daph to get out too, I would've. In a fucking heartbeat. But that wasn't gonna happen. When they make up their mind about something, there's no reasoning with them.. But.. Fucking hell.. I love every single one of them, but.. Fuck.. Slytherin tendencies for self-preservation or not, we can't just bury our heads in the sand, leave Potter to fight the Dark Lord and hope for the fucking best. We have too much to lose if this war doesn't go our way. We can't just do nothing.. So I had to tell him the truth about me, about what's to come. I had to make sure they're prepared. I had to make sure that they'll stay safe, that they'll protect themselves and each other when I can't. And that they'll fight, when the time comes."

Hermione suddenly straddled his lap, cupped his face in both hands, and looked at him so curiously and intently that Draco briefly wondered if she was using wandless, non-verbal Legillimency on him. He never had his Occlumency shields up with her. What was the point when she had the irritating ability of finding out all of his secrets and cock-ups? Occlumency wouldn't help him against Hermione's unfailing ability to sniff out all of his bullshit.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and somewhat nervously waited for her to say something. Almost a full minute later, she did.

"You have come so far since I first met you, Draco Malfoy.. I'm so, so proud of you. I'm so lucky to have you in my life, to know you the way I do.. And I love you with all of my heart."

Draco pulled her to him and poured every ounce of his devotion into his kiss.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Hermione lay beneath Draco on their bed, his head in the crook of her neck, her arms wrapped around him, running her fingers through his hair with one hand, and rubbing soothing circles on his back with the other.

Tomorrow night, Draco will let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, Dumbledore will die, Severus will be Voldemort's most trusted, and Draco will be surrounded by their bloodthirsty enemies every day from tomorrow until the end of the war..

Her fiance is holding her so tightly it's hurting but if he let's go even a little, she's afraid she may fall apart. She welcomes the bruises he's undoubtedly giving her. He's still buried inside her, both of them spent and completely exhausted, but not willing to move an inch away from each other. He had pounded into her relentlessly, brutally, making her scream and come for him over and over as if he was trying to chase away the pain and knowledge of being separated tomorrow night for Gods only know how long.

For a while, it worked.

She forgot about him leaving while he fucked her against the wall, watching him watch her with hungry eyes as she called out his name over and over. His fingers digging into her arse, her legs draped over his forearms, and his teeth and tongue all over her breasts, neck, lips, earlobes, collarbone, jaw, everywhere he could reach. His hips jerking up to meet hers with brutal force as she scraped her nails down his back and tugged on his hair and begged him to fuck her even harder.

She forgot about the war while he fucked her relentlessly from behind, bending her over the edge of the bed and roughly gripping her hips or arse, fisting a hand in her hair to hold her down. She forgot as he pulled her up so her back was flush against his chest when she came close to coming, with one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her upright, rolling a nipple between his fingers, as his other hand played with her clit roughly. One of her hands snaking behind her head, pulling his hair hard, the other alternating between gripping his hip and bracing herself against the frame of the four-poster bed. She forgot as he whispered filthy things in her ear and coaxed a second and third orgasm out of her in rapid succession.

She forgot about his deranged Aunt, the one who tortured him, forgot that he was forced to go back to a house with that woman in it, when he fucked her so violently as he was about to come, calling her name over and over, telling her how much he loved fucking her over and over, that she came for a fourth time and almost blacked out.

She forgot about all of it.

And so did he.

Until it was over.

Until he collapsed on top of her and they looked at each other. Neither of them had words to express how much they felt like crying. How much they wanted to scream from the rooftops that it wasn't fucking fair. How much they desperately wanted to run away together and never look back. How much agony they were in at being forced apart.

Draco had wrapped his arms around her in a bruising grip as he saw the tears in her eyes about to fall. Hermione had started to play with his hair to comfort him, to comfort herself, and lay there beneath him, the man she loved, the man she prayed to all the Gods returned to her in one piece, as she desperately tried to hold herself together.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Alive.

Alive.

Alive.

Alive.

Alive.

Alive.

I'm alive. Haven't been feeling my best, as I'm sure you can imagine. Still not doing too good so excuse the piss poor penmanship. I've just read your messages from the past few days and yes, I'm OK. Yes, I'm safe, or as safe as I can be. No, the Dark Lord isn't going to hurt me anymore, my punishment is over. And yes, I'll message you now that I can hold a quill again, I promise. I miss you too, my love. More than you could ever imagine. Tired now, it's taking a lot out of me to write, but I couldn't go another day without telling you that I love you. Always. Night beautiful xx

. . . . . . . . . . .

I'm so sorry you had to do that to your parents, Hermione. I'm so, so sorry. I know it must be killing you. I know the guilt will be crushing you. But never forget the reason why you've sent them away. You are saving not just their lives, but their souls and their sanity as well, my love. You know the Dark Lord would hunt them down and kill them. He would make it slow. He would make it bloody. He would drag it out until they screamed for you to help them and only then would he kill them. Then he'd make sure you found their bodies. I know it's awful for me to say these things. I know you probably hate me for putting those images into your head. But I know you, love. Better than Potter and the Weasleys and the Order. I bet they're reminding you that it was for the best, that it was for their own good, the good of the war. A necessary sacrifice. They're safer now. You'll get them back when it's over. Of course they'll forgive you. Nothing to worry about, Mione.. I know you, love, and I know what you need. So I'm going to tell you that if you didn't do what you did, if you didn't erase their memories to prevent them from even thinking about trying to contact or protect you, if you didn't send them away, they would be dead within weeks. The Dark Lord would go after them because they are Muggles. They are easy targets. The Weasleys are protected, know the dangers and risks, and can defend themselves with magic. Even if you told your parents about the war and ordered them to remain vigilant, they wouldn't be able to adequately stay safe and certainly wouldn't be able to defend themselves against Death Eaters and you know it. Even if you sent them away but kept their memories intact, they wouldn't leave their daughter behind and you know it. You did what you had to do. Stop listening to those idiots about keeping them alive, or the fate of the war, or that they'll forgive you and it will be all sunshine and rainbows. I have no idea if your parents will forgive you for what you've done, love, and even though it's cruel, I don't care. And deep down, neither do you. Even if they hate you for the rest of your life, at least you know that you saved them from a fate far worse than death. For tonight, just tonight, forget about the war and your mission and if your parents will forgive you and if everyone else you love will be safe. Forget about it all and concentrate on what you saved your Mum and Dad from. You saved them from a slow death. Torture. Rape. Humiliation. Degradation. From days, weeks, spent begging for death. Focus on those images, as disgusting and painful as they are, and stop feeling guilty. Don't wallow in self-pity and guilt. You did the right thing. As you always do. And you are so strong for doing so, Hermione. The strongest woman I know. I love you xx

You're right. I hate you. But you're also right about what I needed to hear. As always. When Harry, Remus, Tonks and the Weasleys asked if I was alright, I told them that I was focusing on what I saved my parents from. The.. rape and torture and a bloody, terrifying death.. They were appalled and told me not to focus on that. Well, Remus didn't. He's as wise as you suddenly seem to be. He told me that if it kept me from 'wallowing in self-pity and guilt', as you put it, then that's exactly what I should focus on because like it or not, that's exactly what would have happened if I hadn't done what I did. I hate Remus a little bit, too. But you're both right. So, thank you, Draco. For telling me what no one else dared to tell me and what made me stop faking being OK and actually start being OK. What would I do without you? I love you xx

Live a boring life without my gorgeous self to fuck you until you can't feel your legs and make you come so hard that you scream so loud you almost burst my eardrums. Also, no gifts of rare books, chocolates, lingerie and jewellery. No flowers in potions. No hot chocolate by the fire on rainy days. No piano and chess and dancing lessons. No one to listen to you ramble on about house elves. And before you say it, I already know that I'm the best thing to ever happen to you, the best and only shag you'll ever have, the best fiance in all the world, and the sexiest beast in all of Hogwarts. I know, love. I know. Night, beautiful xx

Night, prat xx

. . . . . . . . . . .

Happy birthday, my beautiful girl.

Thank you!

Are you alright? Are you safe?

I'm alright, and yes, I'm safe. As are Harry and Ron. You? Narcissa? Severus?

As far as I'm aware, Severus is alright. Mother and I are both fine. Safe. Have you had a good birthday? I know, under the circumstances, that it's a stupid question, but you more than anyone deserve a good birthday.

I have had a very good birthday, sweetheart. Thank you. Obviously we haven't done much, but it's been peaceful, relaxed. It's the most I could ask for in times like these and I'm grateful.

I'm so glad. I can't talk for long, but there was no way I wasn't wishing my fiancee a happy birthday. War be damned. I love you.

Thank you. I love you too. I miss you.

I miss you too, love. I'm so, so glad you've had a good birthday. I can't believe I wasn't there with you. I've seen you on all of your birthdays since we were eleven and I've never missed a birthday of yours since we became friends. I feel horrible for not being there, even though I know it isn't possible.

At least this is the only birthday of mine that you'll ever miss, if all goes well. Don't feel bad, I know that nothing short of an actual war would keep you from me at the best of times, let alone on my birthday.

Get some rest, love. It's late and you need your sleep now more than ever. I love you so much, princess. Happy Birthday.

OK. I love you too.

Night beautiful xx

Night, Draco xx

. . . . . . . . . . .

Hermione, are you OK? Are you safe? Are you there? Hermione? Hermione? Are you alright? Hermione, are you safe? Are you hurt? Hermione? Hermione! Hermione, answer me! Are you hurt? Are you safe? Hermione!

I'm OK! I'm safe! My wards are impenetrable. I take it you heard about

You broke into the Ministry?! What the fucking fuck was so important that you would go there?! For fuck's sake, Hermione!

Draco

What the fuck would possess you to go the Ministry?! Are you fucking insane?

Draco

Bloody fucking Gryffindors!

DRACO

Fucking Potter! Fucking Weasel!

DRACO!

Bloody fucking Dumbledore and his bloody FUCKING mission! Fuck him! Fuck Potter! Fuck Weasel! Fuck the Order! Fuck the whole fucking war!

Draco, please.

YOU COULD HAVE DIED HERMIONE! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN CAPTURED! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY WOULD'VE FUCKING DONE TO YOU?! DO

YES, DRACO, I FUCKING KNOW! I KNOW THERE ARE FUCKING DEATH EATERS ALL OVER THE MINISTRY! I KNOW THAT IF THEY CAPTURED ME, THE DEATH EATERS WOULD BEAT, RAPE AND TORTURE ME OVER AND OVER AGAIN BEFORE THEY KILLED ME SLOWLY! BUT I DIDN'T HAVE A FUCKING CHOICE! YOU KNOW WE HAVE A MISSION, YOU KNOW THIS IS IMPORTANT! Please, Draco. Please, calm down.

..I hate this, Hermione. You could've been seriously fucking hurt. You could've died. I could've lost you. You can't do something like that again. Please. When I heard about what happened.. You were so fucking close to capture, to death, Hermione. Please. Please tell me you don't have to go back? That you don't have to do something like that again? Please. I can't lose you, princess.

I can't lose you, either. Trust me, all I could think about while I was there was that I have to succeed, I have to help win this war and get back to you. Please, Draco, I had no choice. The Ministry was imperative to the success of this war. We would never go there for anything less. There was something there that we needed, there was absolutely no way around it. It was either break into the Ministry and steal it, or wait for a safer option, which could've taken months and in that time, we may have lost our chance entirely. Please, sweetheart, don't be angry, don't be upset. This was important. We had no choice, I swear. I love you.

I love you too, Hermione. That will never change. I was just so fucking scared that you did something so fucking dangerous! I knew in the back of my mind that it was important, that you would never place yourself in danger deliberately, and you sure as hell wouldn't risk Potter's life, but I was so fucking scared that maybe you'd been hurt in the escape that I couldn't think straight. I haven't been that scared since I found out you were in the hospital wing after fighting Death Eaters in Fifth Year. I'm sorry for losing my temper. I was just so fucking worried about you.

You have nothing to apologize for, Draco. I understand. You and I lose our shit when we're scared. I hardly kept my temper when you told me about your Mark and your mission, now did I? It's alright, sweetheart. Just please remember that everything I do during this war is essential to ending it. You're right, I would never place my life in danger deliberately - and never Harry's. I can't marry you if I'm dead, and trust me, that's all the incentive I need to stay alive, to stay safe.

Please, for the love of Merlin, let me know if you do anything so fucking terrifying again? I don't need to know the specifics, or the reason why, but please don't let me find out about your adventures from someone else. Trying to keep my composure in a Death Eater meeting with an enraged Dark Lord cursing everyone in sight is really fucking hard. Please?

You weren't hurt, were you?!

No, love. I'm quick on my feet; Seeker reflexes. Truthfully, he was more concerned with those stationed at the Ministry. Severus, my mother and I kept our mouths shut, our heads down and stayed out of his line of sight until he calmed down. All three of us were and are perfectly fine. Now promise me.

Oh, thank Godric.. I promise, if I ever need to do something truly dangerous again, I will let you know. I don't ever want to risk blowing your cover. Gods, if something happened to you because you were worried about me, I'd never forgive myself. I promise, I will always let you know beforehand. I promise.

Thank you. You have no idea how much of a relief it is knowing that you're safe, you're unhurt, and that you'll let me know in future if you're ever in any danger.

I do. Know what a relief it is, I mean. Have you forgotten that I had to wait a week to hear more than 'Alive' from you after you were punished by You-Know-Who for not killing Dumbledore? Trust me, I know how you're feeling. It's awful, and I'm sorry for putting you through that, Draco. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, least of all you. I'm sorry.

I love you so much, Granger. I miss you.

I love you too, Draco. I miss you more.

Not possible, princess. I have to go, my father is looking at me oddly - I was somewhat enraged when I started writing tonight. I love you. Night beautiful xx

Completely possible. I love you, too. Night Draco xx

. . . . . . . . . . .

Are you OK? Are you safe? I didn't hear from you last night and I'm worried. Please be there. Please. Gods. Merlin, please be alright.

I'm OK. I'm safe. My wards are still impenetrable. I'm safe. Harry and Ron are safe, too. I passed out last night. I was completely exhausted. For some strange reason, being on the run for your life and fighting an evil Dark Lord aren't conducive to a good night's sleep. Who knew? I'm so sorry I worried you, though, sweetheart. I'm so, so sorry. I'll try and warn you if I fall asleep before we can talk again. Are you alright, Draco? And your mother? And Severus, as far as you know?

Thank fucking Merlin you're OK! It's alright, love, don't apologise. I'm glad you slept well, you needed it. We're fine, love. As well as can be expected. Don't worry about me, worry about you. How's the mission?

For the hundredth time, I can't tell you much, Dumbledore made me promise. But we're at a bit of a standstill at the minute, actually. Mostly research for the time being. Before you say it, no, there will be no more breaking into the Ministry. I promise.

Good. Because I will honestly lose my fucking mind if I hear about you doing something so fucking stupid again, OK? Yeah. I know. It was important. Life or death. But Granger, you are my life. OK? It is life or death for me if anything happens to you. OK? Promise me one more time that there's no more death-defying acts of Gryffindor fucking idiocy in your immediate future?

I promise, Draco, that there are no more death-defying acts of Gryffindor bravery in my immediate future. Just research for a while. I promise. I'll give you a heads up if we do anything even remotely dangerous, alright?

I love you so fucking much, Hermione. This is fucking killing me. Every day without you is fucking killing me. Tell Potter to hurry his arse up and kill the big scary monster because I can't live without you for much longer.

I love you too, Draco. I promise, we're going as fast as we possibly can. I barely even blink, I'm researching so much. I love you, and nothing on Earth could keep me away from you for even a second longer than necessary.

When this is all over, I'm gonna marry you, Granger. When the Dark Lord is dead, I'm gonna marry you right there on the fucking battlefield. Alright?

Alright, sweetheart. We'll get married covered in Gods only know what, traumatised, exhausted and filthy.

You bet your hot little arse we will. The Dark Lord would have to rise from the fucking grave again to keep me from marrying the shit out of you right then and there.

I miss you so bloody much, you know?

I know, princess. I miss you so much I can barely breathe. But I have to go now. I love you more than anything, Hermione. Always. For fuck's sake, no more Ministry. I can't stop thinking about that now. I was so fucking worried last night. Stay safe. Night beautiful xx

I love you too. More than you'll ever know. Always. Stay strong. Night, Draco xx

. . . . . . . . . . .

I miss you, Draco. Gods, I miss you. Are you really OK? Are you really safe? I can't tell you about the mission, but there's something here. An object. I can't tell you anything else about it but it's driving us insane. And it won't let me stop thinking about you. About you betraying us, about you dying, about you killing my friends, about you seeking comfort in the arms of another Death Eater, about you torturing and murdering innocents, about your Aunt torturing you, about you hurting and begging me to save you, about you forgetting all about me, about you changing your mind when the war is over and leaving me. Every nightmare I've had about you since I saw you last and then some.. It never even crossed my mind that you would betray us. Where did that come from? It never crossed my mind that you would kill someone, so why am I thinking it? Why am I terrified that you'll leave me for another woman when I know in my bones that you'd never do that?! ..When it's near me, I feel like I'm losing my mind. Then Harry takes over looking after it and I can breathe again, but then it's my turn again and all of those thoughts and images come back all over again! ..You're the only one I can talk to and I'm so sorry for being so weak and for bothering you with this when you have so much shit of your own going on, but I need you, Draco. I need you to remind me that you love me. Please? Give me something to hold on to when that thing is haunting me. Please?

I love you, Hermione Granger. I have loved you since our first kiss. The moment your lips touched mine, I knew you were it for me. The 'one'. You are, and always will be, the most beautiful creature in existence, in my eyes. Inside and out. There isn't a single thing about you that I don't love. Not a single thing. Not even Crookshanks malting all over my very expensive and very fashionable clothes. Not even your pain in the arse friends pissing me off. Not even your tedious lectures about house-elves. Not even your infuriating habit of checking every single essay I write and correcting it. Not even the myriad ways you boss me around and piss me off. To me, everything about you is perfection personified. You are perfect. In. Every. Single. Way.. How could I ever turn my back on you? How could I betray the most beautiful woman in the world? How could I disappoint the most important person in my life so egregiously? ..Don't listen for one moment to what that object thing is telling you. You are, and forever will be, mine. And I am yours. I am, and always will be, on your side, by your side. And I'll tell you once more because clearly you've forgotten - brightest witch of our age, my arse - that I'm going to marry the shit out of you when all of this is over.. Look at that ring around your neck, love. Look at my ring. I loved you enough to ask you to spend the rest of our lives together, to let me fall asleep every night for the rest of my life holding you, to wake up every morning for the rest of my life to your insane hair choking me, to spend every day of the rest of my life making you smile, making you laugh, driving you crazy, making love to you. It would take a hell of a lot more than a war, a Dark Lord, a Chosen One and some obviously evil 'object' for me to not love you anymore, to not want you.. I have to go now. I love you, fiancee, and I always will. Always. And you could never be weak, my love. You're the strongest, most beautiful, most brilliant, most kind and compassionate and fair and loving woman I have ever and will ever meet. You are many things, Hermione Jean Granger, but you are the furthest thing from weak. Night beautiful xx

. . . . . . . . . . .

Merry Christmas, Hermione. I love you.

Merry Christmas, Draco. I love you too. Are you alright? Have a had an OK day?

I'm alright, sweetheart. You? My day has been good, under the circumstances. Father pissed off somewhere and Aunt Bella went to visit her husband and his brother, wherever they are. Severus quickly visited and wished you as Merry a Christmas as possible. I spent most of the day in a nook in the Malfoy Library with mother. It was quiet. Peaceful. It reminded me so much of you, being around so many books. I could almost convince myself that I was in the Room during our O.W.L.'s when you turned the Room into a library. I know I complained about the lack of a bed to shag you on, but I secretly loved that Room. I do so love watching you study; you have the most adorable frown when you're really concentrating and your whole face lights up when you read something new and interesting. Needless to say, I've missed you terribly today.

I love you so much, Draco. I'll never understand why you don't think you deserve me. Anyone who loves me the way you do, who pays so much attention to me the way you do, is more than deserving of me. Truthfully, it is me who doesn't deserve you. I'm alright, sweetheart. I'm so glad you've had a good day. You've had so few lately, you deserve some peace, however temporary. I've missed you, too. I never want to spend another Christmas without you.

I love you too. If Potter hurries his arse up, you won't ever have to. I intend to spend every Christmas for the rest of my life with you. Opening presents, eating Christmas Dinner, cuddling up by the fire, shagging you until you can't walk..

Well in that case, I look forward to next year. I do so love cuddling up with you by the fire. And shagging you, of course.

Of course.

Actually, I think that's what I miss most about you. The sex. You're so very good at it.

Well it's definitely what I miss most about you. I realise that neither of us have any basis for comparison, but you are fucking phenomenal in the sack, Granger.

I try.

Merlin, do I know it. Fuck.. Imagine what everyone would say if they knew that the Gryffindor Princess wasn't just a know-it-all when it comes to academia. Severus almost blew his load when he saw you in my head.

Oh, thanks, Malfoy! I had successfully buried the knowledge that Snape has seen us shagging and now you've brought it all up again! And on Christmas, no less! Prat.

Sorry, love. I don't know what you're embarassed about, though. You were fucking hot, as always. And the sex.. Bloody fucking Merlin. I must say, Severus chose a truly brilliant session to stumble upon. Made Occlumency lessons a shit load more awkward after that, though. Not to mention he wouldn't look either of us in the eye for two weeks! Brilliant.

Just to let you know, Nagini found us at Godric's Hollow in the wee hours of this morning. We are absolutely fine, I promise. Not a scratch. No chance of dying from her venom. Promise. I'm so sorry I didn't warn you beforehand like I promised but I honestly never expected to encounter anyone. We were only going to be there mere minutes. I certainly didn't expect a fucking snake to hide inside a person's body and attack us. But honestly, sweetheart, Harry and I are perfectly safe. I swear. And I'm sorry again for not warning you beforehand, but like I said, I honestly didn't know it would be so dangerous. I knew it was a risk, of course, but so is every time we lower the wards and move camp. We were polyjuiced AND invisible AND were only there for half an hour, at best. It should've been fine but apparently Godric's Hollow was obvious enough that You-Know-Who had Nagini stationed there, lying in wait for us.

Way to change the subject.

Draco, please say something. Useful, I mean.

Are you definitely alright? You are absolutely fine? Not a single hair on your head has been harmed?

I'm absolutely fine. Not a single hair on my head has been harmed. I was scared to death, obviously, and it was touch and go at first. But both Harry and I escaped unscathed and are back behind my wards. I'm sorry I didn't warn you.

It's alright, love. From what you've said, you had no reason to think you were in danger. But, Hermione, no more excursions without telling me, alright? No matter how relatively safe they may seem initially. And Godric's Hollow was fucking obvious. Of course He had someone, or someTHING stationed there. Please do not ever forget how much he wants you and Potter. You aren't safe anywhere, love, as much as it kills me to say it, and you can't forget that for even a moment. And evidently polyjuice and invisibility, even together, are not enough to keep you safe. Please don't ever let your guard down, Hermione. I can't lose my beautiful girl.

I know, Draco. I know it was silly to assume we'd be alright. I was lulled into a false sense of security. It will never happen again. Promise. I love you.

I love you too. Again, Merry Christmas, beautiful xx

Merry Christmas, Draco xx

. . . . . . . . . . .

I can't talk for long, I just wanted to say Happy Valentine's Day, Draco xx

Happy Valentine's Day, beautiful. I love you so much xx

I love you too. I miss you.

I miss you too, love. I wish the war was over already. I wish that you were here with me. We'd be spending Valentine's Day as a married couple. You would be my wife. We could spend the whole day by the fire in the Library. I could feed you strawberries and hot chocolate while we drink champagne. We'd be naked the entire day, never moving from our temporary castle of pillows and blankets on the Persian rug in front of the fireplace. We'd spend the entire day just being together, doing nothing. I could make love to you over and over.. I've been thinking about that all day.

That sounds perfect. I've been thinking about spending this day with you when the war is over all day, too. Your plan sounds perfect. I wish more than anything that we were doing that right now. Not a care in the world. Just completely wrapped up in each other.

Then that's what we'll do next year. Anything to make you happy, princess. I love you.

I love you too, Draco. So much. I have to go.

Happy Valentine's Day. I love you, my beautiful fiancee xx

Happy Valentine's Day. I love you too, my brave Slytherin Prince xx

. . . . . . . . . . .

Hermione, when this is all over, will you still love me? Will you still want me? Will you be able to stand the sight of me? The things I'm forced to do here is the price I agreed to pay to become a spy, to be useful, to remain at the Manor and keep an ear out for information instead of being 'safe' at Hogwarts where I'll be useless, but I.. I can barely look at myself. I don't deserve you. I never have, of course, but I deserve you even less now. I'm.. I'm tainted.. This is killing me slowly, I think. This war. Being away from you.. I know I normally refuse to tell you what happens here, what I'm forced to do, but tonight, I just.. Tonight, I.. I have to tell you. I have to.. I haven't killed anyone, but I torture people. I torture them, Hermione. I watch as they scream and cry and writhe in agony. Because of me.. Their screams haunt my nightmares. I see their faces every time I close my eyes. I try to hold back as much as I possibly can but the fact that I have to hurt them even a little is killing me.. That I hurt someone, multiple someones, is killing me.. I'm drowning, Hermione. I'm drowning in this house, in this life.. I do what I can. I tell Aunt Andromeda what Severus says and the snippets of information I pick up from visiting Death Eaters and Snatchers. I keep the prisoners from Aunt Bella's frustrations as much as I can. But they're still prisoners. They still get hurt. And I can't let them go without blowing my cover and killing my mother.. I hear the things that Greyback gets up to. That all the Death Eaters get up to. Severus has no choice but to tell me specifics about missions and targets so I can tell Aunt Andromeda and the Order, so I don't blame him for dumping even more shit on me that haunts my nightmares and destroys my soul. It's not his fault. It just is.. But Gods help me, Hermione, I see more than I can bare, hear more than I can bare.. My hands are fucking tied and I feel like I'm dying.. I'm so sorry I've let you down, Hermione, but I can't stay strong right now. I need you.. How pathetic is that? I'm supposed to be a big bad Death Eater, a bad ass spy for the Order, the Slytherin Prince, and I just want a fucking hug from my fiancee. Just one fucking hug from you. Just a smile, a handshake, fucking anything.. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.. Now I feel even worse, for burdening you. You don't need this shit right now.. Gods, I really don't deserve you, do I? Not in this life or any other.. I'm so sorry, love. I'm so, so sorry, but I just needed to get this out before I go insane. I'm so sorry.. I love you. I love you. I love you.. Always. Always. Always. Always.. Please, for the love of all the Gods, stay safe, because I will kill myself if anything happens to you. I mean it. I fixed the Cabinet and kept my mother alive, but you are the only reason I keep going anymore, and a future, a life, without you.. I can't even picture it. A world without you in it.. It is inconceivable to me. It is impossible for me to even comprehend my life without you.. I'm sorry, my love, for burdening you. For being weak. I just miss you so much it's a physical ache in my chest and I can't breathe.. I love you. Night beautiful xx

Draco, words can't describe how proud I am of you. Passing information to Andromeda is an incalculable help to the Order. You and Severus must have saved dozens, if not hundreds, of lives by now! Please take some comfort in that.. You hurt those prisoners to keep your cover, and to keep them from potentially being tortured to insanity, or even death, by your Aunt. I know it must rip you apart inside, but honestly, sweetheart, what you're doing is so brave. If anyone found out, you'd be dead and you know it, and yet you do it anyway, to keep them safe.. I am so, so, proud of you for that. It's positively Gryffindor.. I can't begin to imagine the things you see and hear, my love, but please, please take comfort in the fact that you are a crucial part of keeping those things from happening for much longer. I know it looks bleak now, believe me, but it will get better, I promise.. How can you even think for one moment that I could ever not want you? Not love you? In my darkest hour, when I was at my absolute lowest, you told me something that I'm going to repeat back to you: To me, you are perfect. In every single way. I mean it, Draco. There is nothing you could ever do that would stop me from loving you. And you would have to try a lot harder than doing everything in your power to protect innocent people, however much the methods may kill you inside, to stop me wanting you.. I am the luckiest woman in the world to be yours, Draco Malfoy. Truly, I am.. If you don't believe that, then take comfort in the fact that I do. I truly, honestly believe that I am lucky to have you.. You are a good man, my love. I think so. Severus thinks so. Andromeda thinks so. Dumbledore thought so.. If you love and respect me at all, you will trust my judgement, and I am telling you categorically that you are a good man, that you are not tainted, you could never be tainted, that I love you, and that I will always want you.. Please, stay strong just a little while longer. After all, how can you marry the shit out of me if you fall apart now? ..You are not weak, my love. You are the strongest man I have ever met, and will ever meet. You are not weak. You could never be weak.. Don't think for one second that telling me how you feel makes you weak. It doesn't. It makes you strong.. I love you with all of my heart, fiance of mine, and I will love you for the rest of my life. Stay strong. Night, my love xx

. . . . . . . . . . .

Bellatrix is torturing Hermione and she's looking into his eyes, her pain obvious to him even without the screaming. He's constantly and discreetly casting non-verbal numbing charms for the pain and using Legillimency to fill her mind with thoughts of them, their relationship, their future when this is all over, of Potter and Weasel, them, Weaselette, them, Longbottom, them, Hagrid, them, McGonagall, them, the Weasel twins, them, Luna Lovegood, them, Finnigan, them, Dean Thomas, them, the curse-breaker Weasel and the Delacour girl, them, the dragon tamer Weasel, them, Nymphadora, them, Lupin, them, Andromeda, them. Over and over to distract her from the pain as he frantically casts numbing charm after numbing charm, protection spell after protection spell. Everything he can throw at her to stop her from hurting..

He vaguely registers his mother stand beside him, hiding his wand movements in case his Aunt turns in his direction, hiding him from Lucius at the same time. She mutters wandless pain-relief charms under her breath and he can feel his heart break even more than it already is because of course his mother could tell what this is doing to him. Of course she could tell that watching Bella hurt Hermione hurts him worse than all the Crucio's he's endured combined. She can read him like a book.

Just like Hermione.

Hermione who is being tortured and there's nothing he can do about it without killing her, himself and his mother in the attempt. He doesn't stand a chance against Bellatrix and he can't risk her sending an Avada at Hermione or his mother as punishment for attempting to kill her. Bellatrix wouldn't hesitate..

Lucius stands in the corner and looks like he's about to be sick when Bella starts carving and for a split-second, Draco is filled with a rage so absolute that it was Lucius's fucking fault that they were in this fucking position in the first place, that it's Lucius's fucking fault that Draco wasn't on this 'special mission' with Hermione - for he would've had to have been Avada'd before he let her go off alone, if his mother's life hadn't been hanging in the balance and he wasn't forced to become a Death Eater - and could've taken her place being tortured by Bellatrix, that if Hermione hadn't still been whimpering from the pain, he would've sent an Avada at his own father and FUCKING LAUGHED.

An Avada is too fucking good for dear Aunt Bella, but he doesn't have a hope in hell of taking her down, no possible chance that he could kill the bitch and run to fucking Atlantis or something with Hermione and his mother. Somewhere no Dark Lord, no deranged aunt, no incompetent father, no racist zealots, no fucking man-eating snakes could ever find them..

BANG

Potter. Weasel. Bellatrix has Hermione. Dobby. Chandelier.

"Take it and fucking run, Potter," he whispered as the so-called Chosen One stared at him gormlessly as he thrust his wand into the idiot's hands.

Dobby. Bella's knife. Hermione's gone. Hermione's gone. Hermione's gone.

HERMIONE'S SAFE.

Thank all the fucking Gods for Dobby.

. . . . . . . . . . .

STOP IT. Stop hating yourself, Draco. You did everything you could without blowing your cover, which I will never stop being thankful for. I would suffer at Bellatrix's hand a thousand times over if it meant keeping you safe. I know you would do the same for me. And you have. You have suffered at You-Know-Who's hands, at Bellatrix's hands, more times than I can count since you took that Mark. Please, Draco, do not do this to yourself. Do not torture yourself because you could not save me. It will drive you insane and it will ruin what we have. Please, my love. Please let this go.

I'm so sorry, Hermione. Please forgive me. I'm so fucking sorry. I'll never stop being sorry. I'm so sorry. So sorry. sorry sorry sorry sorry Hermione sorry sorry sorry sorry

Draco, I said stop it! You have NOTHING to apologise for. I don't blame you in the slightest, OK? What happened to me was not in any way your fault. There was nothing more you could've done without alerting Bellatrix to our relationship and thus, killing me, your mother and yourself in the process. Neither of us knew Harry and Ron would break out and provide back up, and neither of us could take on Bellatrix and win. I certainly was in no fit state to help you. If you had acted on your need to always protect and defend me, you would've killed us all. So please, Draco. Stop.

How can I? How can you ask me to live with this? To carry on as if I haven't watched my fiancee tortured and bleeding in my own fucking home and done nothing to fucking stop it?! I'm so fucking sorry, Hermione. I'm so, so sorry.

I don't blame you, Draco. Not in the slightest. But if you truly need forgiveness from me, then fine. I'll give it to you: You are forgiven. Always, and completely, forgiven. I love you.

I love you so much, Hermione. There are no words to describe how much I love you.

I know, sweetheart. I feel the same about you. I have to go, I need to rest.

Of course. Of course you do. Get some rest, love. Sleep. When you wake up, try and eat something. And drink plenty of fluids. But mostly, sleep. Your body needs as much rest as it can get. Trust me. I'm so sorry, Hermione.

Never apologise for this again. If you do not want this to affect our relationship, if you love me, if you want to marry me, do not ever apologise for what Bellatrix did again. Alright?

..Alright. I love you, Hermione. I will never stop loving you.

And I will never stop loving you, Draco. But now I really have to go. I am utterly exhausted. I know you are desperate to know but hadn't the courage to ask before because you were wallowing in misplaced guilt, but I am being well looked after, Draco. Bill and Fleur are in hiding too and it is completely safe here. I am being well looked after and as such, Fleur is hovering beside my door, unimpressed that I'm writing to you instead of going to sleep.

I'm so glad. If I could be there with you, I would be. In a heartbeat. It kills me that I'm not.

I know, Draco. As it killed me that I couldn't be there for you when you were punished the night of Dumbledore's death, and you were significantly worse off then than I am now. I need to sleep now, baby. I love you. Night Draco xx

Sweet dreams, my beautiful girl. I love you. Always. Night beautiful xx

. . . . . . . . . . .

Draco frantically searches for Hermione during the Battle, half out of his mind with fucking panic, cursing Death Eaters and saving Order members, taking a nasty curse for Nymphadora - thank fuck for Lupin distracting Bellatrix so she didn't see his face - before knocking her out and stuffing her unceremoniously in a broom closet to keep her safe, just like he promised Andromeda, receiving a quick, grateful albeit confused nod from the werewolf, as he runs - or attempts to after Bella's sadistic fucking curse is eating away at his insides - all over the castle. To hell with the fucking battle. To hell with this fucking war.

When he finally finds her, in the Room, Crabbe and Goyle have followed him after seeing him bent double casting the counter-curse to Bella's curse and healing a broken wrist as best he can, and he can't think of an excuse to get them away from her!

It's one thing to curse your own side and save the other in the chaos of battle, when you're too busy running, running to find Hermione, to really think about what you're doing, for either side to pay attention to some kid sprinting past them, throwing the odd curse, the odd shield, taking the odd hex, not even attempting to duel.

It's another thing entirely when you're literally stood there in the silence between two sides. It's blatant defection.

He can't openly defect. Not yet. He can't say or do fucking anything with Crabbe and Goyle there, because the war's not yet over and his mother is with the fucking Dark Lord and that fucking snake and his old friends' fucking wands are pointing straight at Potter's heart..

. . . . . . . . . . .

Fiendfyre..

Fire. Chaos. Panic. Vince! Screaming.

Oh Gods. This is it.

Her face as she flies above the flames.. Safe. Scared. Screaming. Beautiful. Perfect. Mine.

So beautiful.. I'm so sorry, Hermione. I'm so, so sorry.. Oh Gods. Ohgodsohgodsohgods. This is it.

Hermione screaming. Potter. Flying. Panic. Fire. Smoke. Falling. Falling. Crash. Pain.

Alive.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Draco can hear his parents screaming for him. See them running through the skirmish taking place, not even attempting to fight, not even raising their wands.

But he can't stop now. He can't afford to be distracted.

He finally, finally, revealed his true loyalty and is absolutely fucked because of it because Death Eaters are making a beeline for him.

He and Flitwick took down Antonin Dolohov, the sick fuck that cursed his Hermione at the Department of Mysteries. He's not sure who killed him in the end, but even if it was him, he's not sorry the piece of shit is dead.

Thorfinn Rowle is next.

Curse. Curse. Duck. Roll. Shield. Curse. Shield. Curse. BLAISE! Shield. Curse. Curse. Curse.

Rowle is dead.

Blaise is bloody but alive.

His parents are suddenly by his side. Watching him duel with unexpected skill, courtesy of training with Hermione for the better part of Fifth and Sixth Year. Watching him turn on his own. He doesn't give a shit. He grabs his mother and pulls her behind him.

Blaise runs off to find Daphne and Pansy.

Draco sends a slicing hex at Greyback.

Curse. Duck. Shield. Curse. Curse. Curse. Duck. Shield. Curse.

Greyback is dead. The scarred Weasley, Bill, got him in the end.

His father is yelling at him. His mother is cursing a masked Death Eater to their right.

Longbottom looks at him and lowers his wand.

Weasel fires a painful hex. His mother throws herself in front of it and conjures a shield.

Draco throws Sectumsempra at a Death Eater behind Longbottom.

Longbottom drags Weasel away with a nod to Draco. A sign that he knows what side he's on and trusts him.

Draco grabs his mother's hand and runs through the crowd, cursing every Death Eater he sees, searching for any sign of Hermione.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Hermione is cursing Death Eaters left and right. She can't think. Instinct is taking over.

Curse. Curse. Duck. Roll. Shield. Curse. Shield. Curse. Shield. Duck. Curse. Curse.

Where's Draco?! Is he wearing his mask? They'll kill him for defecting! He'll be a primary target!

Curse. Duck. Shield. Curse. Curse. Curse. Duck. Roll. Shield. Curse.

Ohgodsohgodsohgods, where IS he?!

Move. Move. MOVE. Curse. Curse. Shield. MOVE.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Then flashes of smaller moments..

...

In the middle of sex, Draco slows down, then stops completely and stares at her, brushing her hair out of her face. He looks at her and she can feel tears well up in her eyes at the look of devotion and disbelief on his face. She brushes one thumb over his cheekbone and smiles, and she can see it register in his eyes that she's really there. That she loves him.. He smiles, a small tilt of his lips and kisses her as though she's made of glass. He gently tangles one hand in her curls, cups her cheek with the other, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone and begins to thrust into her again, so slowly and gently that she can't help the few tears that flow down her cheeks as she smiles against his lips.

...

Draco, hungover - cheers, Blaise - isn't looking where he's going as he makes his way over to his desk and trips over Pansy's fucking handbag, pirouetting like a ballerina in an effort to stay on his feet, only to whack his hip on the opposite desk and fall on his arse anyway. His girlfriend - his own bloody girlfriend! - laughs so hard she starts to hyperventilate.

In the Room later that night, he regains some of his dignity by punishing his witch by fucking her from behind as he spanks her arse hard. Her enthusiastic screams of his name and her calls for harder, Draco! Harder! Faster! Please, Draco! Please! I'm gonna come! Harder! sooth his damaged ego SPECTACULARLY.

...

Draco tries to hide his Dark Mark when in bed with Hermione, unable to mask the shame and self-hatred on his face, telling her that it's ugly, disgraceful, she shouldn't have to look at it.

But Hermione surprises him when instead of revulsion, he sees nothing but love and pride in her eyes. He's stunned, unmoving, unthinking, barely even breathing, when she kisses his Mark and tells him that it's the furthest thing from disgusting, it proves that he's the bravest man she's ever known.

Draco kisses her fiercely, choking back tears, unable to comprehend how someone as perfect as her could let someone as undeserving as him so much as look at her.

...

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione slowly sucks the ketchup off a chip, her cheeks hollowing out, her eyes locked on his as Draco watches her from the Slytherin table with his cock so hard it's almost painful and he actually growls at a second year when the poor girl politely asks him to pass the gravy.

...

Draco roars with laughter at the look on Severus's face, on everyone's faces, as Hermione yells 'FUCK!' at the top of her lungs after Longbottom's potion melts straight through his cauldron and spills all over them both. Draco thinks - with more than a little smug satisfaction - that he's starting to rub off on her.

...

Hermione is in the hospital wing and Draco snuck out to visit her in the middle of the night. Fuck Filch. Fuck everyone. He needed to see her.

His father is on his way to Azkaban. His father is one of those that put her here..

Dolohov cursed her. He's a fucking dead man if Draco ever gets close enough..

Gods.. He could've lost her. His Hermione. He almost lost her..

...

Hermione starts prattling on about house-elves for the fifth time in as many days and he just can't stand it anymore and snogs the bloody witch until she can't think straight just to finally shut her the hell up.

...

Hermione's sat between Draco's legs on the carpet in front of the fire, her back against his chest as he plays with her hair, when he surprises her with a box of incredibly expensive and extremely decadent chocolates, just because.

...

Draco swaggers into the Room, high on his victory over Ravenclaw, intent on getting a kiss for the winner from his girlfriend. As soon as he shuts the door, Hermione is on him.

An hour later, he's laying on the bed beside Hermione, thoroughly shagged, panting, wheezing, chest heaving, trying desperately to catch his breath, with a ridiculously happy grin on his face. When his brain is capable of forming a coherent thought, he comes to the conclusion that his girlfriend really, really likes sweaty Quidditch players and their uniforms.

...

Draco has his head on Hermione's lap as she absentmindedly runs her fingers through his hair while reading, leaving him in that fuzzy place between awake and asleep.

...

Hermione's bitching at him to stop spending so much time obsessing about Quidditch and getting shitfaced with his friends and actually fucking concentrate, Draco! It's against the rules, anyway, Draco and you're a Prefect! The O.W.L.'s are only two months away, Draco!

...

Hermione is running her fingers through Draco's hair as he curls up on the sofa, pouting and sulking, resting his head on her lap, and she's desperately trying not to laugh at her ridiculous boyfriend.

She had just told him that their relationship so was wonderful because they complimented each other perfectly; aside from all the things they had in common, she was the practical, logical, rational, planning-ahead one, and he was the hopelessly romantic, sweet, loving, passionate, protective, living-in-the-moment one. Apparently, his ego hadn't taken it as the compliment it was meant as.

However, he soon perks up dramatically when she reminds him that although she may be the one in charge most of the time and he's the 'Hufflepuff' in the relationship, as he called it, he more than asserts his dominance in the bedroom.

When he literally puffs his chest out and drags her over to the bed like a caveman so he can show her 'who's really in fucking charge.. Damn right I'm the dominant one', Hermione wonders if it's physically possible to break a rib from trying to keep from laughing.

...

Hermione is crying but Draco can't stop himself from screaming in frustration because they need to fix the fucking cabinet to save his mother's fucking life but he doesn't want to fucking do this and she's crying and begging him to please, please, just please fucking eat something or sleep or just do fucking something, Draco, anything, because you're killing yourself!

...

When Draco finally flawlessly performs a complex Transfiguration spell that Hermione is teaching him, he watches as her face lights up with joy and pride, and the satisfaction he felt a moment ago is replaced by love and an overwhelming disbelief that the brilliant witch next to him is his.

...

Pansy flirts with him in the library and touches his thigh and he tries to brush her off, reminding her that he has a girlfriend at Beauxbatons and he loves her and would never hurt her and Pansy is just a friend and it would be wrong.

Unbeknownst to him at the time, Hermione, who is standing behind the nearest bookcase, watches through a gap in the books as Parkinson tries to seduce her boyfriend and can't help but swoon a little at how disgusted and alarmed Draco looks by the very idea of someone other than her touching him.

...

They're curled up on the sofa when Draco gives Hermione a sapphire necklace, her birthstone, that must have cost a fortune. She asks what the occasion is and he simply shrugs and smiles self-deprecatingly and says it's just because he loves her.

She throws herself at him with such vigour that Draco makes a mental note to buy every fucking necklace in England as she wraps her lips around his cock and sucks him off with fervour. He's coming in less than a minute.

...

Hermione has terrible period pains so Draco spends a solid half an hour rubbing her tummy as they drift in and out of sleep on their bed, Hermione laying on her back as he lays on his side, she encased in his arms, one of his legs thrown over hers, his face buried in her hair, and a small smile on her face as she watches his not-quite-sleeping face and contemplates how she got so lucky as to have such a wonderful boyfriend.

...

"What do you mean the house elves can do it?! We are not having house elves Draco! It's inhumane! You'll just have to cut the grass by yourself like a fucking normal person!"

As Hermione starts literally screeching at him and shows no sign of stopping any time soon, Draco reflects that he really should've known better.

...

The first time she's on top, her tits bouncing in his face as he runs his hands over her body, Draco wonders what people would say if they knew the innocent, virginal, goody-two-shoes Gryffindor Princess was riding his Slytherin cock right now and that thought pushes him over the edge and he comes so hard he almost passes out, after just her fourth bounce.

"Um.. Wow.. So you really like this position then, huh? Just.. Wow," she says, her eyes wide and a sly, smug smile on her face.

Draco pulls a pillow over his face and prays for death.

...

Draco's ranting about Quidditch practice for what must be going on an hour for the third night running and she finally snaps and tells him that even though she loves him, could he please just shut the fuck up and get over it already?!

He blinks.

...

Hermione seems unhappy in Potions, so Draco subtly transfigures one of the spare ingredients at her table into a jasmine flower - her favourite.

Draco decides that the smile on her face when she looks at it is worth the risk. He begins to corner her in the store cupboard every Potions class to discreetly hand her a new, real, flower. She smiles a small but breathtaking smile every single time and for those few seconds before they have to get back to their tables and avoid suspicion, Draco feels like everything is right in the world.

...

After stealing one of his Quidditch jumpers out of his bag the night before, Hermione surprises Draco by waiting for him in the Room, wearing it. And nothing else.

Half an hour later, Draco is fucking her violently from behind as he bends her over the arm of the sofa, talking dirty to her as he alternates between playing with her clit, pinching her nipples, spanking her arse, pulling her hair and obsessively running his hands over the jumper she's still wearing. As she comes for a third time, her last coherent thought is that her boyfriend really, really likes having his name spread across her chest and back.

When he finally explodes within her, still fucking her mercilessly and yelling her name, all she can think of is that wearing his jumper was a truly brilliant idea. She wasn't the smartest witch of her age for nothing.

...

Draco is spooning Hermione on the sofa, her back flush against his chest, their legs entwined.

She had fallen asleep half an hour ago, so exhausted that she didn't even make it to the bed, she had simply said hello, collapsed on the sofa and asked him to hold her. She'd been asleep within seconds and Draco has been watching her since, one hand propping his head up and the other wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her hand. He can't help but marvel at how beautiful and innocent and fragile she looks when she sleeps. He so rarely gets to see her sleeping, what with them having to keep up the charade of being anywhere but with each other, so on the few occasions that he does, he simply watches her.

He thanks the Gods and Merlin and Salazar and even Godric Gryffindor one more time that this perfect witch literally slapped some sense into him.

...

Hermione throws a grape at him and Draco tries to be suave and catch it in his mouth but miscalculates entirely and it hits him in the eye. Hermione holds him close and tries to get a look at the damage, but it isn't nearly as comforting as it should be because the bloody witch can't stop laughing and asking what sort of Seeker he is. Wench.

...

Draco listens to Hermione describe her Amortentia - apples, old parchment, broom polish, and expensive cologne - and smiles when she blushes and avoids his gaze.

Hermione discreetly checks her parchment, knowing there's no way Draco will let that go without comment.

How Amortentia smells to me: old books, jasmine, strawberry shampoo, hot chocolate. Everything that makes me think of you. You reading and studying. You smiling at my flowers in potions. The overwhelming smell of strawberry shampoo when I bury my face in your hair. You drinking hot chocolate by the fire in our room. Guess we really were made for each other, Granger xx

She blushes and covers her mouth with a hand to hide her cheesy grin, and Draco, watching from across the room, can't contain his pleased smirk.

...

Draco walks into the Room, pissed off and more than a little upset about losing the Snitch to Potter AGAIN and is preparing to tell Hermione exactly what he thinks of her best friend when he stops in his tracks. His girlfriend is leaning against the bedpost of their massive four poster bed wearing nothing but lingerie in Slytherin colours - SLYTHERIN COLOURS! - and as Draco literally runs across the room, grabs her ass, wraps her legs around his waist, and snogs the shit out of his perfect, laughing girlfriend, he forgets that Harry Potter even exists.

...

Hermione is worked up, tense and pissed off about Umbridge so Draco pulls her over to the bed and goes down on her until she physically can't take any more.

His entire face hurts like a bitch but hearing his girlfriend laugh about him turning her to mush as she struggles to move her legs, he can't help his smug smirk.

...

Draco is comforting an overwhelmed Ravenclaw first year and helping her with directions as Hermione secretly watches this side of him, a side so few people ever see, from across the empty courtyard, and is struck again by how very much she adores that man.

. . . . . . . . . .

..Then every birthday, every Christmas, every Valentine's Day, every anniversary, every gift, every card, all flash through both of their minds in rapid succession..

..Kisses, touches, smiles, smirks, laughs..

..I love you's..

..Hermione playing the piano for him..

..Looking down her shirt when she bends over to pick up her things..

..Draco trying to teach her to play chess..

..Watching her enter the Yule Ball and wondering how it's possible that she's even more beautiful now than she is every other day..

..Checking out her arse and those bloody beautiful legs as she walks down the corridor..

..Reading together by the fire..

..Duelling with Draco in Fifth Year because Harry refuses to trust Slytherins..

..Draco absentmindedly rubbing her feet after Prefect Patrol..

..Falling asleep in his arms..

..Teaching Hermione to dance for the Yule Ball, both of them secretly wishing they could go with each other..

..Training with Draco during Sixth Year in preparation for the war and laughing as gives up and tackles her to the bed..

..Tucking a flyaway curl behind her ear..

..Making love..

..Writing notes to each other all throughout Ancient Runes and trying valiantly not to make eye contact and burst out laughing..

..Kissing the scowl from his petulant face..

..Hearing his sarcastic comments in class and trying so hard not to laugh..

..Sharing a bath together in the one the Room provided..

..Mentally cheering for him every time he catches the Snitch..

..Internally smiling fondly and rolling his eyes every time Hermione's hand shoots up into the air when a professor asks a question..

..Admiring his arse as he struts down the corridors..

..Watching Hermione's hair become crazier and crazier during Potions..

. . . . . . . . . .

Draco and Hermione search each other's faces. They're both bloody, dirty, bruised, burnt. In a great deal of pain. Grieving.

But he's looking at her and she's looking at him and nothing's changed.

Of course it hasn't. Of course it hasn't! Because he promised, didn't he?! He promised me after our first kiss that we'd make it work! That we would last!

Who gives a shit about what her friends think of me?

Who cares if his family doesn't like me?

Lucius can go fuck himself. I don't care anymore. Let him disown me.

Because it's been too long. They've been together for too long, been in love for too long, been apart for too fucking long to let anyone mess this up now. They've always thought of everyone else, been what everyone else needed; they've kept their relationship a secret; he's been the little pureblood scion, the Death Eater, untainted by Mudbloods, like he was supposed to be; she's been the princess of the Light, untainted by Death Eaters and Slytherins, like she was supposed to be; he's protected his family, almost losing her and himself and his sanity in the process; she's fought for the Light, almost dying for the trouble.

They don't regret it. Never will. Not now that it's all over. The battle is done. The war is won. He did what he had to do and she did what she had to do, but enough is enough. No more hiding. No more sneaking around. No more putting everyone else before each other.

Enough. It's been too fucking long. I've been without her for too fucking long to keep my distance now. Fuck the fucking secrecy. Fuck my father. Fuck her friends. Fuck anyone and everyone who doesn't fucking like it because she is mine and I am hers and fuck them all if they think they can keep me from her now.

I don't care.. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care anymore! I need him!

They walk towards each other as best they can with their multiple injuries, though they don't even register the pain anymore. They walk as if in a daze, barely aware of shoving the odd survivor out of their way. Then Hermione stumbles the last few feet but that doesn't prevent her from throwing herself into his arms with so much force, she almost knocks him off his feet. But he just wraps his arms around her, almost lifting her off the ground, and clings to her like a lifeline.. Like salvation.. Like redemption.. Like his other half..

They break apart long enough for Draco's hands to find her face, her hair, her neck, every inch of her to check that she's alright, that she's really there. Hermione just holds him tight and kisses him with such love, passion, devotion and hunger that he can feel himself start to shake with the effort to keep from crying. He pulls away and rests his forehead against hers, telling her over and over again that he loves her, and she's smiling and crying and he can feel the tears prick the back of his eyes when she says it back, when she tells him she loves him over and over again.

She still loves me. She's really here. She still loves me. I haven't lost her. She's really here and she still loves me. I haven't lost her. She still loves me. How can she still love me? I haven't lost her. She loves me. She loves me. She loves me.

He knows then that he'll never get tired of hearing her say it. That it will never be a token statement like other couples. That those three little words that she's repeating on a loop, interspersed with kisses and sobs and laughter, will mean more to him than he could say, every day for the rest of his life. He'll never get enough of those words. Never get enough of this witch. His witch. His Hermione. His Hermione who loves him.

He can see her necklace around her neck, knows the ring he gave her is there, and he knows he can't wait any longer. Despite promising to marry the shit out of her the moment the battle was won, he really should do something more romantic - shower at least - but he can't, he's lived without her for a year and if he doesn't do it now, he may lose his mind.

Keeping his forehead pressed against hers, Draco removes the ring from the chain around her neck while he murmurs,

"You promised me a year ago, that as soon as the war was over, as soon as we were together again, you'd wear it.. Well.. It's over. It's all over. We're alive. We're safe. And after a year of spending every waking moment terrified that I'd never see you again, that something would happen. To you. To me.. I won't survive another second without you.. After everything.. Everything I've done. Everything we've been through.."

He pulls back slightly to look at her and keeping one arm wrapped firmly around her waist, keeping her pressed against him, he holds up the engagement ring with his other hand.

"Will you still marry me, Hermione Granger?"

The Great Hall is silent as the survivors watch the scene unfold. They watch as Hermione breaks down all over again and nods her head in jerky, hurried movements. They watch as cocky, cold, arrogant Draco Malfoy looks at her with profound relief, pure joy, disbelief and utter and complete adoration. They watch as he slips the ring on her finger with shaking hands. They watch as she throws her arms around his neck and he wraps his arms around her waist and they cling to each other so tightly it's a miracle they don't snap each other in half.

Draco buries his face in his fiancee's neck and the tears finally fall - tears of joy, of relief, of shock, of pain, of all of it. He turns his head and kisses her neck and whispers once again the one thing in his life that will never change,

"I love you, Hermione. I love you. I love you. I love you. I -"

"I love you too. Always. Always, always, always," Hermione replies, her voice muffled as she nuzzles his neck and cries with such relief that words can't describe it, that the man she loves is still in there. Haunted, traumatised, a little broken, sure, but they all are. She is. But under that, he was still there, still the same. Her Draco.

"Always."

. . . . . . . . . . .