Chapter 1

One day, while on vacation in the south of France when she was three years old, Hermione Granger disappeared.

Her parents swore they just looked away for a matter of seconds and she was gone. She re-appeared just as suddenly on their beach blanket three hours later.

The police brushed it off, they said that it happened all the time during the high season. Children wandered off into the crowds, it was nothing out of the ordinary. But the Grangers were less than convinced, because this was not the first time something strange had happened to their daughter.

But then they seemed to forget their concerns. By the time the next year rolled around, almost like magic, they had forgotten about their daughter's tendency to wander off. She was gone for twice as long that time.

After that she began to talk about the dragon. A magic dragon made of light who appeared and led her to her friend, who was apparently also a dragon. Their little girl spoke of her dragons with such fondness and enthusiasm that the Grangers were actually charmed by the tale, she did love her stories, and this wasn't anywhere near the wildest or most disturbing thing she'd ever imagined.

The same thing happened the following year, but this time she did not return alone. She was holding the hand of a beautiful blonde woman whose other hand was grasping that of an equally towheaded child. The woman changed their world with one phrase: "Hello, my name is Narcissa Malfoy and I have something to tell you. Your daughter is a witch." Her parents, eager for an explanation of their daughter's strange abilities thankfully didn't immediately throw her out.

And so, she got to spend glorious, wonderful days with a boy who accepted her in a way none of the children she went to school with ever had, and understood her instinctively in a way that she was certain nobody else ever could. They frolicked and laughed and chased each other up and down the pristine beaches in front of the Malfoy's French villa. The three adults smiled at how free they were. Nothing had ever felt more right to any of them.

Until the year Hermione turned nine, when the boy and his mother simply never turned up for their French holiday. She was nearly inconsolable for weeks. But then one night after they'd returned to England she suddenly got up from the dinner table, wandered into her back garden and laid down in the grass so that she could gaze at the sky. Her parents followed her curiously, concerned about this abrupt change of behavior.

"I'm checking on Draco, and he needs to see me too," she'd explained, and had refused to go back inside until his constellation was bright in the sky.

She didn't see the way they exchanged dubious looks, and if she had she wouldn't have cared. She just knew this was the thing to be done. She checked on him every night thereafter, and didn't sleep well when it was cloudy.

The entire family was relieved when Professor McGonagall arrived with Hermione's Hogwarts letter. It had been two full years since they'd seen the Malfoys and the magical world was starting to feel like something they'd dreamed up. None of them mentioned that they already knew Hermione was a witch to the older woman, they just smiled and asked all the appropriate questions.

The following September, Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express with her heart in her throat. She recognized Draco the minute that she saw him and she could tell that he recognized her as well, but there was nothing of the little boy she'd loved in the sneering face of the person she encountered on the train. It was soul wrenching.

And after that it only got worse. In many ways he seemed even further away from her when he was just across the castle as he had when he'd been across the country, because she had to watch him snub her, and scorn others like her, and that was more painful than simply missing him. She mourned him, but she never stopped checking on his stars in the night sky. She never stopped feeling guarded and comforted by the Draco who resided in the heavens.

It wasn't until their third year, after she'd slapped him, that she saw the dragon made of light again, he just appeared when she was alone in the library. Now, she had a much better idea of what he really was, but that didn't make his appearance any less amazing. She followed him immediately, instinctively. He led her to her long-lost friend who had sequestered himself in an abandoned classroom; his cheek still red from where her hand had struck him, his eyes were suspiciously glassy, and he finally looked like that gentle boy she'd longed to see again for years.

"I've missed you," she said quietly.

"I'm sorry," he replied.

She just sat down next to him and placed her head on his shoulder. She knew by now- from personal experience- that Lucius Malfoy was a dangerous man. And while she didn't know why Draco and his mother had suddenly stopped coming to France, she assumed his father had something to do with it.

She was even more certain that he was the reason for Draco's sudden intolerance of muggleborns. It was hard to be angry with him for being unwilling to openly defy a man who was willing to unleash a monster inside a school full of children, including his own son, in an attempt to eradicate people like her. As long as her Draco was back, she wouldn't hold his actions against him.

He put an arm around her and she curled into his side. When she wrapped his other arm around her she let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding for five years. "I'm sorry," he repeated, over and over as he clung to her like he'd never let her go.

After that they fell in love swiftly, or maybe they'd been falling for the entirety of their childhoods; exchanging soft kisses in empty classrooms and hidden alcoves, sneaking off for whispered conversations, surreptitiously passing notes between classes. She felt giddy and alive and worried she sometimes acted a little too much like her giggling, boy-crazy roommates. She consoled herself that she was only crazy for one boy and he was absolutely worth it.

It continued like that for more than a year, until her best friend, Harry Potter, appeared via portkey in front of the entire school after the final task of the Tri-Wizard tournament, bloodied, clutching the body of a classmate, and screaming that Voldemort was back. For very different reasons they both knew he was telling the truth. And just like that they were at odds again.

They managed to pretend that wasn't true for another year- ducking and avoiding their friends and family and their questions. Ignoring the harsh reality of the war being fought outside the walls of the castle. Meeting in private. Living for those meetups.

Without even really thinking about it, he started to teach her some of the things he'd learned from his father over the years- anything to help her survive- and she started to teach him all the things Harry was showing them in the D.A. which was a much more pleasant experience for them both.

She smiled at him after she'd demonstrated the patronus charm for him, "you can do it sweetheart," she encouraged.

"Come here," he smirked at her in that way that always made her want to go kiss it off his face.

"Why?" She challenged, crossing her arms over her chest and refusing to simply give into him, however much she wanted to, he'd be insufferable if he thought she could be so easily ordered about.

"Well you said I need a good memory, right? I have many standing right here with me in the flesh."

This time she couldn't help but grin and nod to him. He snagged her around the waist and pulled her against his chest, buried his face in her neck and breathed her in, "Expecto Patronum."

In her experience people tended to nearly shout the spell, as if the volume of their voice would amplify the emotion, but he just murmured it quietly against her skin, like a prayer. She was not surprised when he produced a full patronus. She knew what he was capable of, he was a powerful wizard, and she could feel the positive emotions radiating from him.

However, that did not detract from her wonder when a familiar dragon appeared before them. Hermione bit back a sob at the nearly solid figure and reached forward to touch him, but instead of flesh, what she felt was a wave of love so overpowering that it would have knocked her over if Draco hadn't been holding her.

"All this time," he said, voice filled with awe, "my magic has been seeking you out since I was three years old."

"He's so beautiful, Draco, how could I not have been drawn to him?" She ghosted her fingertips over the hands at her waist, almost desperate to reassure him.

"I think it's the other way around, he was clearly drawn to you."

"I love you too," she whispered hoarsely.

Days later, when she woke up in the hospital wing to the news that their little excursion to the Ministry had resulted in the arrest of eleven Death Eaters, including one Lucius Malfoy, she worried that she may have lost him again. He had helped them defy Umbridge, fed her information about the Inquisitorial Squad so that she could safely arrange DA meetings. He'd even helped them escape so that they could go to the Ministry. But it was one thing to help her quietly and another to expect him to openly take sides, and the side of people who had incarcerated his father, at that.

So, she was shocked when almost the moment she was discharged from the hospital wing he managed to track her down and drag her- not that she put up a fight- to the Room of Requirement where he proceeded to make love to her for the first time. He was so tender, so passionate, all the time murmuring words of love and adoration, and unnecessary apologies.

And she allowed herself to believe that they might actually make it through the coming storm intact. She slept in total peace, entangled with him that night, not knowing that outside a dragon- formed from love- was keeping watch, or that she would end up clinging to the memories of those hours in order to produce her own patronus in the coming months as they were the last good ones she'd make for a long time.

The next day was the end of term and they parted with a kiss and an exchange of sentiments of love, and rejoined their respective houses to board the Hogwarts Express.

It was too dangerous to correspond over the summer, so as much as she would have liked to hear from him, she was not surprised when she didn't. However, she was surprised and disheartened when he didn't so much as glance her way on the platform on September first. It was the beginning of a nightmare the likes of which she never could have imagined.

She didn't get a good look at him until that night, and when she finally did she discovered that he looked terrible. He ignored all of her efforts to get his attention and in the following days he refused to so much as look at her, much less take the notes she tried to pass him or meet her in their usual spots. When she finally got desperate enough to send him an owl he shredded the parchment without even reading it and dumped the pieces in his pumpkin juice. She had to hint to Harry and Ron that she was having female problems to get them to lay off the issue of why she was so upset.

Harry was convinced that Draco was up to something and she knew, without a doubt, that he was, because she knew him. But she couldn't share that with her impetuous friend, he would ask too many questions. And despite his behavior, despite how terrified she was of what he may have been embroiled in, she still felt fiercely protective of Draco. And nothing good could come from Harry having his hunch confirmed, it would just make things worse.

She was sick for days after Katie Bell was cursed, and continued to cry herself to sleep for weeks, though that was nothing new. She spent many nights curled up against a window in her dorm gazing at his constellation until the sun came up and she could no longer see him. It was the only thing that brought her any comfort as she watched her Draco deteriorate in front of her eyes. She wondered if he knew he was taking her apart along with him.

But, much more heart shattering than that, she worried that her Draco had been buried so deep inside the shell of the man who attended classes with her, that he wouldn't even care if he did know.

The holidays were a special kind of hell on earth that made her glad that Harry was so distracted by obsessing over Draco and that stupid potions books, and Ron too busy attempting to eat Lavender's face, for them to notice that the supposed season of joy had hastened her unraveling. She took Cormac McLaggen to Slughorn's Christmas party in a blatant attempt to make Draco jealous, and pay back some of the hurt he'd rent upon her. She would never forgive herself for the look on his face when he was dragged into the party and saw them together. She was so disgusted with herself that she left immediately, not bothering to inform her date, she burned her dress and took a scalding hot shower, scouring her skin until it was raw.

At the start of the new term it was announced that there was to be a Valentine's Masquerade Ball. She could only assume that some people were feeling more positive about life than she was if they still felt like holding such a fanciful celebration in the middle of a war- she suspected Dumbledore. When she heard about it she had no intention of attending, she'd learned her lesson at Christmas, even Harry and Ron's platonic touches nearly made her skin crawl these days.

But then, a week before the event, a large package arrived for her. The note affixed to the top had her name scrawled across it in handwriting she would have recognized anywhere. She looked up and met his eyes and even from across the Great Hall she could tell that they were dark with need.

At that moment he brought a bright red apple to his lips and took a very deliberate bite, and for the first time in a long time she felt that heady, heated rush of desire that was once so familiar when she looked at him. She quickly covered her flushed cheeks with her hands, and then gathered her things and rushed back to her dorm before anybody could question her.

Ensconced in the safety of her curtained bed she opened the note first.

H,

I realize that I have probably forfeited the right to ask anything of you, but if you can find it within yourself, please wear these and come to the Masquerade Ball. I will see you there. I have always been and will forever be-

Yours,

D

Hermione blinked at the note and read it again, and then again. Something about those last words. She felt like she was missing something, but when she kept coming up with nothing she shook it off.

She hastily tore at the wrapping and opened the box. Inside was an outfit obviously designed for a Gryffindor. The delicate gold filigree mask and red satin heels were beautiful, in and of themselves. And the ruby necklace which almost made her faint when she saw it was exquisite. Oh, but the dress, the dress was a work of art: gold, strapless, and one look told her it would hug her every curve until it flared out below her knees to the floor. It shimmered with a layered scalloped design that looked like nothing so much as scales, not like those of a snake, but of a dragon. And then a wrap, in various shades of crimson and gold that, when draped across her shoulders would resemble an abstract rendition of wings. Only they would know it, but he'd dressed her as his namesake, as their protector. She bit back a sob.

She was angry with him.

But now she was also curious, and she would never deny him this request even if she thought she had the willpower to stay away from him.

She dressed with care the night of the masque and she didn't miss the way her roommates' eyed her like they'd never seen her before when she was finished. Everything Draco had sent her had been beautiful, but put together as an ensemble, even she could admit that she looked stunning, but she didn't stick around long enough to allow them to ask questions.

She made her way to the Great Hall, looking around as she did so, wondering when he would approach her. If he even would. She knew he was in trouble, that any interaction between them would probably be highly dangerous, so perhaps he'd truly only wanted to see her dressed up for him and that was all this was. She told herself that she was okay with that, that it was enough that he'd contacted her, let her know that he was thinking of her and that her Draco was still in there.

But she'd no sooner walked in the door when he approached her. He should have been unrecognizable, but she would have known him anywhere, and she quickly saw the signs of a glamour charm hovering around him, especially given how attuned she was to his magic. He wasn't anywhere near the only person using one tonight, so even if anybody else noticed it, it shouldn't be too alarming. And so, for once, they could be together in the open.

He took her into his arms, as easy as breathing and guided her onto the dance floor. They moved together naturally and for three dances they were silent, just holding each other and reveling in the others presence. She breathed him in and tried to memorize the way he felt in her arms.

"I've been dreaming of you in this gown for weeks, but it doesn't even begin to compare to the reality of how you look."

"How long have you been planning this?"

"I couldn't even say, honestly. Probably longer than I'd admit to myself."

"You have very good taste."

"Of course I do, the woman in my arms is all the proof I need of that."

"Smooth talker," she smiled against his shoulder.

The were silent again for awhile.

"Hermione, I don't wish to make you miss the party but I was hoping to talk to you and I selfishly want you all to myself."

She didn't hesitate. "Let's go."

Author's Note: For those of you reading my other WIPs, never fear, this was just a little thing I was inspired to write for Valentine's Day which just happened to divide neatly into three parts all of which will be posted in the next few days, I'm just cleaning up the other two chapters. So, I haven't started some huge new project. This piece was inspired by a mood board the lovely Trinkisme made last year for Valentine's Day. If you'd like to see it, it's on my Tumblr. I've also made a Pinterest board for this mini-story in case you want to see the inspiration (mostly) for Hermione's masquerade outfit. I'm RiverWriter on Tumblr and Pinterest as well. Thanks for reading!