Another little one-shot, coming at you! If you enjoy, please review! I love hearing from you! This fic is rated M for language, but there's implied sexual contact later in the story. Nothing graphic, though. Just thought you'd want to keep that in mind.

Also, side note, still working without a Beta. So, mistakes are all mine!

As always, JK Rowling is queen. I just borrow her things from time to time.

Present Day

Hermione writhed beneath Draco as he kissed her, his lips and tongue massaging hers slowly and deeply. Her fingers trailed along his arms, wishing they weren't wearing so many clothes for the millionth time. She shifted her lower body against his, earning a groan from the blonde as she tried to press even closer to him.

She sighed into his mouth as he gripped her waist, his fingers never going lower or higher in a sweet, infuriating way. He wasn't willing to risk ruining what they had by moving too fast. They hadn't even told anyone about them yet, keeping it a secret to preserve it, and it had been months.

"How much longer do we have to do this?" Hermione whispered as Draco left slow kisses along her neck.

"We can stop whenever you want," he said against the skin of her beck, nipping lightly, making her arch against him. "But I think you rather like what we're doing."

"That's not what I meant," she gasped as he rolled on top of her, pressing his lips to hers. She gripped his hair as one of her legs wrapped around his thigh, pulling him closer. "You know that's not what I meant," she muttered when he released her mouth and moved his lips down the other side of her throat.

"Do we have to have this conversation again?" he asked against her ear, his kisses easing as he slipped his body beside her, his arm snaking around her waist.

"I'm just so tired of hiding," she said as she turned to face him, her fingers brushing stray hairs away from his face. "I spend all day pretending that I don't want to hold your hand, don't want to kiss you, and it's exhausting." She let her hand rest on his jaw, the tip of her index finger rubbing the soft skin behind his ear.

"Like I said," he breathed, his hand on her hip squeezing lightly, a sad look taking over his face, "we can stop whenever you want."

"Draco. You know that's not what I meant," she said, leaning forward and pressing her forehead to his. "There's no way I'm letting you go. I just don't want to have to pretend anymore." She scooted closer, letting her nose slide next to his as his arms instinctively tightened around her. "I want to tell people. Tell everyone," she whispered, slipping her arms around him to keep him from pulling away. She was a little surprised when he didn't, given how he usually reacted to her request.

"We've talked about this," he said, kissing her forehead. "We only have a month left of school. If we come out now, it'll only make things more complicated."

Hermione leaned back, scowling. "You keep saying that, but things are complicated now." She pursed her lips. "Whenever we're at meals, all I can think about is you all the way across the Hall, away from me. In classes, all I can think about is how much I hate you sitting by Parkinson while she flirts mercilessly with you. Even when you brush her off, it eats away at me." She sighed and felt tears well in her eyes. Embarrassed, she rolled onto her back, hoping he wouldn't get up and leave. "When I pass you in the hall, I have to look away, because it hurts too much to look at you and know that if I smile, and you smile back, that has to be it. Knowing I can't hug you, or so much as touch your hand." She felt traitorous tears fall down her temples into her hair.

"Do you think I like it?" he asked, propped up on his elbow, looking over at her, his steel-colored eyes hard. With his long fingers, he took one of her hands and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "Every time you laugh at some joke Longbottom tells, or get an owl I just know is from Weasel or Scarface, it feels like a punch to the gut." He sighs as he traces his index finger down hers. "And I honestly hadn't noticed Parkinson flirting, because I was too busy watching Michael-fucking-Corner try to get your attention in every fucking class, then try to carry your books after. He's not even in Gryffindor, but he sits at your table most days. I should be the one making you laugh and carrying your enormous pile of books." His grip on her hand stayed gentle and loose, but his jaw tightened.

"If we both hate it so much," she said, turning back to him, eyes shining with fresh, hopeful tears, "then why can't we stop it?" She leaned up and pressed her lips to his lightly and felt him soften against her.

"Because - " he sat up and she followed suit. He leaned forward onto his knees, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. "Because I'm afraid," he growled. "You're literally the only good thing in my life." He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I can't risk that. I won't. I don't know what I'd do if - "

Hermione crawled into his lap, legs wrapping around his waist, and kissed him. She then tucked her head into the crook of his neck and held onto him with both arms and both legs, locking him gently against her body. "Draco, I'm not going anywhere," she said before placing a kiss in the crook of his neck. "Are you?" her breath ghosted over his skin and he shivered as he tightened his grip around her waist.

"No," he said, his voice barely a sigh. "You know I'm not."

She smiled against his skin. "Then where's the risk? If we both want this, if we're both sure, then what are we waiting for?" she asked, and her voice was so hopeful he knew he would do whatever she asked.

He sighed dramatically. "Let's at least plan how we'll do it. Alright?"

She sat back, her eyes bright, all traces of tears gone. "Really?" she breathed, a smile stretching across her face. He nodded with a grimace and she squealed, wrapping herself around him once more. Before he could react with more than a chuckle and hug, she had scrambled away from him and moved to the writing desk in the corner of his room to gather parchment and quills.

"We're making lists, aren't we?" he asked with a groan as he fell back onto his pillows.

"Of course we are," she said, lifting one eyebrow. "How else do you propose we plan?"

He just chuckled and sat back up, holding out his hand for the materials. After transfiguring a pillow into a small lap desk, they set to work, planning how they would announce their relationship to the world the very next day.

When they finished hours later, Draco was exhausted, but Hermione was excited. She wanted to stay with him, to fall asleep beside him, but she knew if she did fall asleep, he'd move to the couch. He always did, not willing to risk something in the middle of the night that he thought they weren't ready for.

"I'm going to bed," she said, leaning over and giving him a quick kiss. "Unless you want me to stay."

"You know I do, but - " he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I know," she said after a moment. "Too much of a risk."

He leaned forward and captured her lips in a slow kiss, pulling her back to him, leaving her feeling more breathless than any of their previous heavy snogging sessions.

When he released her, she stared into his eyes, longing hot and fresh there. "I'll see you in the morning," she said as she stood, a sad lilt to her voice.

He sat up and kissed her once more. "Goodnight, Hermione," he said with the smallest of smiles.

Hermione made her way back to her room - a trek that became harder and harder each evening - and was just about to shut her door when Draco grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, gripping her face and kissing one last time, leaving her breathless at the end. "Forgot your wand," he said with a smirk.

She felt for her wand in the thigh holster she'd worn ever since the war, and sure enough it was gone. "How - "

"I may have nicked it," he said, his smirk transforming into a smile as he handed it to her.

Hermione wasn't sure whether to smack him or laugh or pull him to her and make him stay the night, so she stood, mouth open, a smile on her face.

"I've rendered Hermione Granger speechless," he said, as he backed toward the door. "Who even knew that was possible?"

"Go to bed," she said with a laugh.

"See you in the morning." He grinned at her before slipping out the door.

Hermione fell into her bed, a smile on her face and her heart racing in anticipation of what was to come, the memory of his lips still on hers when she finally drifted off.

Over a Year Earlier

Hermione lay on the drawing room floor of Malfoy Manor, writhing in a pain she'd never have been able to imagine before experiencing it. Tears soaked the ground beneath her and her muscles twitched in the aftershocks of the Cruciatus curse. Bellatrix was standing above her pulling a knife from a sheath at her side. The metal glinted and Hermione felt a fresh wave of fear wash over her.

Hermione looked around the room, casting her eyes for anything that might help. Her gaze landed on Draco Malfoy, standing only feet away, his normally sneering face a mask of fear, all the color gone.

Her gaze met his - amber meeting steel - and for a moment time froze. Please, hear me. It was like his voice was in her head, and rather than feeling repulsed as she would have expected, she was comforted. His voice a lifeline in a storm of pain and fear.

She heard herself scream as Bellatrix started digging the blade - it was poisoned or curse, she could feel it - into her arm.

Granger!

Her eyes sprung open, trained on his.

Let me in.

And without really knowing how, she did. The storm raged on all around, but she managed to hold onto the lifeline, open the door, and pull herself though.

The pain in her arm faded away. She could still feel it, but she was detached from it - like an echo. Her consciousness drifted, still partially with her body, but she couldn't really feel it. As she drifted, she found herself in a room that wasn't quite a room. The windows were large and white light poured in. There were low shelves of books surrounding the walls and a few soft-looking chairs. Like in a dream, Hermione walked to a window and looked out, but all she saw was soft, white light.

"Granger."

She turned, unsurprised to see him there. He looked just as he did in real life - tall, thin, dark circles under his eyes.

"I can't stop what she's doing," he said, his expression honest and open in a way she'd never seen. "I'm sorry."

"How are you doing this?" she asked, gesturing around the room.

"Legilimency. It won't help you in the long run, but it's all I could think to do now." His voice croaked and she nodded.

"Why?" she whispered into the too bright space.

"Because - " he took a shuddering breath before meeting her eyes - steel locking with amber - "because for my whole life, I've only ever done the wrong thing. And it took seeing you like...like this, to make me want to do something right."

Hermione was shocked to see tears slip down his cheeks. This was his mind, she realized, and he could hide that from her if he wanted, and yet he chose to let her see. She could almost feel his sadness in the air of this space, feeling it gently touch her skin like a tentative lover might. Her feet carried her across the room as if of their own volition and she took his hand. His face screwed up as if he might cry harder with her kindness and she squeezed his fingers in hers.

"If I die, find Harry, or someone in the Order. Let them see this memory. They'll help you." She felt calm even as part of her brain registered the amount of blood she was losing as Bellatrix carved into her forearm.

"You won't die," he said, eyes suddenly bright as his fingers twisted in hers so that he was gripping her as much as she was gripping him. "Dobby. He's going to apparate the others out. I called for him just before I brought you here."

"Dobby?" she asked, surprised that where their hands were still connected felt warm. Other than that contact, she didn't notice temperature in this room in his mind.

"He's my friend," he said.

"Malfoy - " Hermione gasped, her eyes squeezing shut as the pain of Bellatrix's ministrations seeping into the illusion.

Draco's ghostly form caught her as she slumped, draping her arm - she half expected it to be dripping blood - over his shoulder as he led her to the chair. His touch eased the pain and it soon faded back into the background of her mind, an echo again.

"He'll be here soon. I'll make sure the others get away. Make sure they get you away." His breath ghosted across her cheek and she felt tears in her eyes.

"Come with us," she said, panic welling in her at the thought of leaving him behind.

"I can't," he said, keeping his arm around her even though the chair now supported her weight. She was grateful for his touch.

"Why not?" she asked as pain lanced through her arm. She gripped it to her stomach, still surprised she didn't see the blood she knew was there. He tightened his grip on her and the pain lessened again. Her lifeline to sanity.

"Me being with you would put you all at risk. He'd be able to find me. And - " he took a deep, shuddering breath, "they'll kill my mother," he whispered, so low she only heard it because he was right next to her. "They'll torture her, and then they'll kill her."

Hermione was silent. Outside her mind, she thought she heard noises, but she wasn't sure.

"Malfoy - " her voice broke.

The dreamscape she'd been in was ripped away and Hermione felt breath enter her lungs like a brick wall falling onto her chest. All the pain he'd shielded her from came rushing back and she would have screamed if she weren't so intently focused on finding him. She sat up, blood seeping from her arm, making her lightheaded, and scanned the room. A sound from above - the chandelier was falling. A body hit hers, knocking her out of the way. She regained her breath, arms went around her, and her eyes finally found him - amber locking with steel gray.

Her mouth opened as she felt the lurching sensation of apparition, his name torn away as she blinked out of existence, the flash of the cursed blade glinting as it rotated through the air just before she vanished.

"You're not making sense," Ron said a few days later. He'd stayed by her side as she recovered. She'd passed out and he'd carried her, filthy and bleeding, into Shell Cottage, and had barely left her side since. "What do you mean he was in your head?"

Ron was holding her hand, his thumbs stroking her skin possessively. It had taken days for her to work up the courage to tell, knowing they wouldn't understand. They hadn't been in that room, hadn't seen him as she had, hadn't felt him.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked from where he sat, eyes rimmed red, at the foot of the bed. He wasn't handling Dobby's death well, and she knew he was exhausted. She wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him, but she was also so tired.

"I'm sure," she said, her voice still weak. "He's a legilimens. He pulled me out of my head while she did this." She pulled her hand from Ron's and thrust her bandages toward him. "I didn't feel any of the pain until after he left my mind. He shared a safe space with me, I think it's somewhere he goes in his own mind when things get too hard." Her voice broke and she closed her eyes.

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What does it mean?" he asked. He looked so weary, more weary than any seventeen year old should look. "Has he defected? Is it a trick?"

"It means he's human," Hermione said, exhausted. She laid her arms over her stomach to keep Ron from taking her hand again. "It means he's a person in a really terribly situation who's made some very bad choices. But for this one time, he made one good one." Her voice was quiet. She could still see his eyes, steely gray, and the tears that leaked down his too thin face as he held her in that place.

"It's Malfoy," Ron said, his quiet voice confused. "He's evil. He's - "

"He's spent most of his life making mistakes," she said, reiterating his one feelings, her voice more acidic than she'd meant for it to be. "But he chose to do something good instead." She turned a look on Ron, feeling slightly guilty for chastising him after all the time he'd spent by her side the last few days. "We all make mistakes, wouldn't you agree?" She stared at him with a hard look, and to his credit, he dropped his head in shame. "But, we all deserve a second chance," she whispered.

"What if he uses this against us, tries to kill us the next time he sees us?" Harry asked, nearly forgotten.

"He won't," she said with conviction. "I felt it when I was in that room. He didn't hide anything from me there." She sighed and closed her eyes again. "If the risk weren't so great, he'd join the Order. I know it."

Beside her, Ron huffed, sitting back on his chair.

After Hermione recovered, she didn't have much time to think about Malfoy. It wasn't until they were back at Hogwarts, a battle raging all around, that she saw him again. She was exhausted and becoming hopeless as Voldemort's troops relentlessly attacked the castle.

She was rushing down a hallway, heading toward the Room of Requirement, when she felt a prickle at the edge of her awareness.

She slowed, Ron nearly bowling her over.

"'Mione, we have to go," he said, grabbing her hand and dragging her.

She looked all around as they ran. She could feel him somewhere, an echo of what it felt like to be in that room, but didn't see him. She took a deep breath and took a chance. Concentrating on that feeling, she thought, If you can hear me, please let me help you.

There was no reply as they reached the Room and Ron pulled her in. Her heart sank as they saw the mountains of junk. But then, moments later, there he was, flanked on either side by Crabbe and Goyle.

Her eyes met his - amber looking into steel, searching - and for a heartbeat, time stopped again.

Crabbe drew his wand first, but before any of the trio could react, Draco spun and stunned Crabbe. Goyle was too slow, and he went down a breath later. Hermione felt warm relief pour through her.

"That offer for help still open?" he asked into the strangely quiet room. Beside her Ron growled low in his throat, but Hermione stepped forward and offered him her hand. He slipped his into hers and they were even warmer than they'd been before, in that room in his mind.

"Can we trust you?" Harry asked, Malfoy's wand clenched tightly in his hand from where he'd disarmed the blonde at the Manor.

Malfoy met his eyes, his gaze hard. "I'll take veritaserum," he said, his grip in Hermione's hand firm.

"We can trust him," she said, stepping closer, putting herself between Malfoy and the others. Ron scowled.

Harry hesitated only a moment before he nodded. "Take him with you, then, Hermione. Ron, you're with me."

"We can't leave her with him - "

But Hermione was already pulling Malfoy away. "We're looking for a diadem," she said, keeping her voice low. "Rowena's diadem."

He pulled her to a stop, his face screwing up in thought, then took the lead, pulling her down a new alley of forgotten and lost items. "I've seen it," he said, adjusting his grip on her hand so that their fingers were laced together. Hermione felt a jolt in her stomach, but ignored it. "There," he stopped and pointed up toward a bust with the diadem sitting just on top.

"Accio Ravenclaw's diadem," Hermione said, and the jeweled tiara flew into her hand.

As soon as it moved, the towers of junk all around started to wobble.

"We need to go," Malfoy said, turning and dragging her back the way he'd come. He had a new wand and he blasted things away as they fell toward them.

"Harry and Ron," she breathed. Malfoy slowed as they heard voices. Crabbe and Goyle had woken and were shooting hexes at her friends close by.

"Fuck," Malfoy said as Hermione heard someone - either Crabbe or Goyle - cast fiendfyre. "Accio brooms!" Malfoy yelled, and three brooms flew toward him. He put his wand into his pocket and gripped the brooms in one hand. He didn't release her hand as he pulled her toward the sound of voices.

"Blood traitor!" Crabbe yelled, casting a hex at Malfoy when he saw him. Hermione blocked it with a shield charm. Ron and Harry were huddled behind an overlarge stone table that had been toppled just feet away. From the back of the room, fiendfyre raged.

"Catch!" Malfoy yelled, tossing two brooms at them. Harry caught them and mounted immediately.

"What about - " he said.

"We have it!" Hermione shouted as Malfoy mounted the broom he'd kept and pulled her up in front of him.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled as he mounted his own broom, but Malfoy was already zipping off toward the doors, hexes flying at him from Crabbe and Goyle the whole way.

Malfoy's arms were around her, gripping the broom in front of her. She leaned back, into his broad chest, trying to melt into him so that she could feel his movements and could lean with him as he moved to control the broom. She wanted to close her eyes, terrified of flying, but made herself keep her eyes open. She could feel the fiendfyre's heat chasing them down.

Crabbe and Goyle were screaming and Hermione felt vomit rise in her throat. Malfoy's broom blasted out the door and he pulled up short, landing roughly. He leapt off and turned to the door, ready to slam it after the others made it through. Hermione counted, and ten excruciatingly long seconds later, Harry and Ron burst through, each dragging another boy behind them. They dropped Crabbe and Goyle to the ground, both with multiple burns, and Hermione immediately knocked them out with a powerful stupefy.

"We can't leave them here. The fiendfyre won't stop," Malfoy said, chest heaving. "The Room will contain it for a while, but not forever." He'd finally let go of Hermione's hand and she found that she wanted to grab him again, to make sure he didn't get left behind.

With some quick wand work, Hermione lashed both boys to two of the brooms and cast a spell that sent the brooms out the windows toward the lawn below.

"You have the diadem?" Harry asked, stepping forward, his face blackened with soot.

"Malfoy found it," she said, holding it out to show him.

"I know how to destroy it," Ron said, purposefully not looking at Hermione or Malfoy. "Basilisk venom. From the Chamber." Harry's eyes shot to his and he nodded.

"I'll take it," Hermione said. "I've already touched it. It's darker than the locket," she said, wanting to drop it as slimy darkness seeped into her skin. "I can get into the Chamber. I don't know parseltongue, though," she said, looking to Harry.

"I do," Malfoy breathed, and three sets of eyes turned to her. "You don't have a human snake live in your house for so long without learning a thing or two," he said darkly.

"Malfoy and I will destroy the diadem. The two of you should find the others. We have to kill that snake," she said, ready to turn and go.

"Nagini?" Malfoy asked. "She's never far from his side. It won't be easy to get to her."

"Then maybe you should go after her," Ron said, sliding closer to Hermione. "'Mione and I will go take care of the diadem. You go with Harry and find the snake."

Malfoy met his gaze for a long moment, then met Hermione's amber eyes. "Hoss-ee-eth," he said with a nod. "The Chamber. I heard him talking about it. That should open the door, even if you don't speak the language."

Without even a nod of thanks, Ron took her hand and pulled her toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She looked backward long enough to catch his eyes - wide open and steel gray - as Ron dragged her away.

They made it down into the Chamber more easily than she would have believed. The parseltongue Malfoy taught her worked effortlessly. The bones of the basilisk littered the chamber and Ron dragged her, not relinquishing his iron grip on her hand, toward where the head was. Only there did he let go, moving to grab a fang from the skull.

"Careful," she said as he reached around and grabbed a tooth at the base and pulled. The tooth came loose easily, and with a deep breath, he nodded toward the ground.

"Lay it down. I'll destroy it. It won't be pleasant." His voice was ragged.

Hermione did as he asked and took a step back, her heart racing. Ron brought the tooth down with a grunt, and for a moment there was silence. After a beat, the sounds of screaming engulfed them as the black, smoke-like fragment of Voldemort's soul blasted all around them, sending their hair flying backward and steeling their breath.

It was over as quickly as it began, and Hermione looked at Ron - his horrified expression a mirror of her own. His horror swiftly turned to determination as he took a step toward her, his eyes darting down to her lips. She felt something in her stomach clench in an unpleasant way.

"We should get more fangs, just in case," she said, sidestepping away from him and wiggling more teeth free. Ron hesitated only a moment, his face tight with anger, before joining her. She wrapped the fangs in a spare shirt in her magically enlarged bag and tucked them safely inside. "Let's go."

Ron at her side, they ran toward the Great Hall where people were gathering. When they arrived, no one but Neville had seen Harry or Malfoy.

"I saw them," he said, blood streaming from a cut on his temple. "I tried to hex Malfoy, but Harry stopped me. I was distracted, didn't see a Death Eater coming, but Malfoy did. Blew him out a window and saved my life." He lifted his chin. "But that was at least half an hour ago. Haven't seen them since."

Hermione felt cold dread fill her stomach.

Shortly after, when Voldemort announced that Harry was dead, Hermione's knees fell out from under her. She'd been looking for him, and Malfoy, and had seen neither. Harry was gone. She could barely breathe.

"Malfoy delivered Harry to him," Ron growled at her side, his eyes dry, his jaw clenched in fury.

"No he didn't," Hermione spat, turning on him. "He wouldn't."

"How do you know?" he spat back, rounding on her. All around, people were listening. "How can you trust him? Especially now?"

Before she could answer, there was noise in the courtyard. Hermione shoved forward to see, leaving Ron in the crowd, to see what it was.

Neville was yelling at Voldemort, and Hermione's hand went to her mouth. The Sorting Hat was dropped on his head and lit on fire, and Hermione sobbed as he screamed. And then, the hat was off and Neville held a sword - Gryffindor's sword - in his soot blackened hands. With a roar, he swiped it downward, severing Nagini's head from her disgustingly large body.

Voldemort screamed with her death and aimed his wand at Neville, and suddenly, there was Malfoy, sliding between then two, his own wand outstretched. Hermione felt her heart stop.

"The prodigal son returns!" Voldemort said with sudden glee. "Let your parents watch you suffer, blood traitor."

"No," Hermione whispered, stepping forward.

Behind Malfoy, Neville raised his wand. In a wave, all those fighting for the light lifted their arms as well, aiming their points at Voldemort. Hermione followed suit, wand pointed at the noseless monster, her eyes trained on the blonde who led the charge.

It was a stalemate until gasps sounded, ripping outward. She watched Malfoy for a moment longer, saw him sag with relief, and then she saw Harry - very much alive - part the crowd.

"So," Voldemort said sounding almost bored, his magically enhanced voice filtering over the crowd. "This is our moment, Potter."

Another beat of silence.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The spells, uttered at the same time, met in the middle and light exploded outward as magic sizzled the air all around them.

Hermione, along with everyone present, ducked as the magic poured over them. People scrambled back, but she stayed, head down, crouching. She couldn't move further from Harry than she already was. She couldn't move until she saw where Malfoy was. It wasn't until two warm hands grabbed her and pulled her up, and her amber eyes met his steely ones, that she moved.

"Come on," he said into her ear, dragging her back as the two sets of opposing magics pressed against one another. "He's got this," he said, arms going around her back as he half-ran back toward the castle, surrounding by pulsating magic.

As they reached the steps, the magic exploded with the sound of a bomb and everyone dropped to the ground. Hermione coughed, tightening her grip on Malfoy as he laid his body over hers. When the smoke clear she stood, still holding onto him, eyes searching for harry.

There he stood, breathing hard, wand still out. And there lay Voldemort, crumpled on the ground, finally lifeless.

It was chaos after that. People swarmed Harry. Death Eaters ran and were chased by members of the Order. Hermione saw Malfoy's parents look at him from across the carnage, his mother with longing, his father with disdain, and they apparated away without a word. People ran all around, some to Harry, some to find their own loved ones, all while she clung to Malfoy's shirt, a solid rock in a raging sea. A lifeline in a storm.

She saw Ron from a few meters away. His eyes flickered toward Draco, then locked on her. Sadness washed over his face as he turned toward his family, huddled nearby. She did a quick count and saw all the Weasley's had made it through, feeling a surge of relief.

As they stood, surveying the chaos, Neville walked up to them, covered in blood and dirt, his hair singed, and held out his hand to Malfoy. Malfoy took it with a nod, never loosening his arms around Hermione's shoulders.

After the battle, Ron went home with his family. Harry was taken to the Ministry, catching Hermione in a quick hug before being ushered away.

By the end of that day, most people had filtered away, moving toward their homes, their lives, away from the carnage, but Hermione stayed in the battle's aftermath with Malfoy by her side. She dreaded the moment they would part. His family was off limits to him now - she knew the aurors would get them soon, if they hadn't already. She had no family to go to, either, but she needed to make sure, before he left, that he was alright. She owed him that.

McGonnagall passed them, sitting on the castle steps, as the sun started to set. "We start repairs first thing tomorrow," she said, stopping in front of them with a soft smile. "We could use extra wands if either of you are willing." She took a breath and looked out at the smoking ruins, then back at them, new, tired lines in her face. "If you decide to help, you're more than welcome to stay here. I'll have a Heads dormitory prepared, just in case." She paused. "Thank you, both of you, for what you've done here today." She patted their shoulders, giving Hermione's a small squeeze, as she walked away.

The sun had nearly set when Hermione spoke. "I'm glad you're here with me," Hermione said. His shoulder was pressed into hers and from that point of heat, she felt her tension lessen. "I've been worried about you."

He was silent for a moment, and then she felt his hand slip into hers, warm and steadying. "I've been worried about you, too."

"Are you - " she bit her lip. "That's to say, I think I'll stay here, at Hogwarts to help with repairs. I'm not going anywhere for a while." She took a deep breath. "Are you?"

"You know I'm not, Granger," he said softly, squeezing her hand, making her heart stutter.

"Mal - " she paused and took a breath. "Draco, would you maybe call me Hermione?"

She didn't dare look at him, but felt him adjust his grip on her hand.

"I could probably do that."

The smile that stretched across her face almost hurt. Together they sat, watching the horizon as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Harry came and helped sporadically over the course of the summer, and Hermione was thrilled to see how hard he tried to at least be polite to Draco, and even more thrilled when Draco tried just as hard right back.

the course of the summer, and each time Draco gave them space. Each time he came, even though Draco was no where in sight, Ron grew angrier and angrier. It was as if he could sense the time Hermione and Draco had stayed up talking late into the night, could somehow hear the laughter they shared, could somehow feel the small touches - his hand to the small of her back, her fingertips to his arm, their fingers brushing as they walked - that seemed to happen more and more each day.

The last time he visited was just a week before the start of term. He and Hermione stood on the balcony in the Heads' dormitory where Hermione and Draco had been living. Draco, knowing Ron was coming, had gone down work on the landscaping with Hagrid to give them space. He told Hermione there was no need to risk a fight by him staying, even though she always asked if he would.

"I wish you'd come visit, at least for this last week," he said, leaning against the rail, staring holes into her. "Mum's been worried sick, and - " he leaned forward just enough to take her hand where it rested on the rail as well. "I miss you."

"I can't leave now," she said, squeezing his hand and quickly releasing it. "We're almost done with all the renovations, and McGonnagall's made me Head Girl, so I have a lot of preparations to make. It worked out, really, because Draco's been made Head Boy, and we can get a lot of planning done now. With a whole extra class of eighth year students, we'll need the extra time. Our first Prefect meeting is on September first, and - "

"Hermione," he said, his face turning sour. "You know that's bullshite."

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ron - "

"No. No, Hermione. You are going to come back to the Burrow with me, and we're going to have a bloody nice week together before school starts back. There are things we need to talk about, and - "

"I'm staying here," she said, taking a step back as his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"It's because of him, isn't it?" he spat, taking a step toward her. She took another step back until she was pressed against the balcony wall.

"No," she whispered, but even to her own ears, it sounded false.

"He's turned you against me," Ron said, leaning toward her, his hands in fists. He had the same look in his eyes he'd had when he left her and Harry in the woods, after the horcrux poisoned his mind toward them. The look that said he'd already made his decision, and he was about to do something drastic.

"Ron, you're being ridiculous," she said, hands flat against the wall behind her.

He leaned forward, face red, hands in fists as if he might hit her. And then, as he stared down at her, something in his face shifted and he seemed to collapse in on himself. "I'll see you around, Hermione," he said, his voice heavy with resignation and sadness.

She watched him leave, unable to find any words.

When Draco came back to their room later, he found her, still sitting on the ground on the balcony where Ron had left her, her face pale.

He didn't question what had happened, but instead slid down next to her and waited until she was ready to talk.

"He wanted me to come back to the Burrow with him," she said, looking at her feet. She held her arms like she was cold, even though it was an overly warm summer. "But I told him I couldn't. I told him I had too much to do here."

"And he didn't understand?" Draco asked, straightening his legs and crossed his ankles, his hands on the ground on either side of his hips.

"He didn't believe me," she whispered. "He thought I was staying for you."

There was a long moment of silence where Draco sat, unmoving. She could feel his body heat just inches away.

"He was right," she said into the tense silence.

When he finally looked at her, she was staring at him, warm amber eyes wide and expectant. He didn't say anything, but instead leaned toward her slowly, giving her chance after chance to back away. When he took too long, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his with a sigh. His hand came up and cupped her cheek as she scooted toward him and leaned into the touch.

It wasn't anything more, a simple kiss, but when they each pulled back, they wore matching smiles.

"I've been waiting to do that for a long time," he said into the air between them and she ducked her head.

"What took you so long?" she breathed.

His smile fell as he ducked his head, pulling his knees up to mimic hers. "I wouldn't be good for you," he said, turning his gaze from her to his hands. The sun was bright, but they were in a cool shadow and his hair covered his eyes.

"Shouldn't I get to decide that?" she asked, reaching over and taking his hand in hers. "Shouldn't I be given the chance to make that choice?"

He sighed as she lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulders, then laid her head on his chest as if they'd done this a thousand times. "What is it you want the chance to decide, Hermione?" he asked, closing his eyes.

She let go of his hand and laid her own over his heart. "I want to be with you," she said into the fabric of his tee shirt. "And I want you to be with me." She gripped his tee shirt in her hand as if afraid he might leave, but he only pulled her more tightly to him.

"If you ever change your mind, for any reason, you only have to tell me. OK?" He pulled her closer and settled his arms around her. "We'll keep it secret for now, though. To protect you. It's too risky to tell people." She tensed beside him at the last bit, but after a moment, nodded slowly.

"Can I kiss you again?" she asked against his chest into the following silence.

He chuckled and she felt it reverberate in his chest. "The answer to that question will always be yes." He looked at her with a half smile. "I'm not going anywhere, Hermione."

She smiled up at him as she pressed her lips against his again.

Present Day

Hermione woke with a smile on her face. She was up like a flash, even though she'd only gotten a few hours of sleep. She was to get ready and meet Draco in their shared common room, and they would head down to breakfast together. They had a plan. Hermione had the list in her pocket so they could reference it throughout the day.

First, hey would sit together at breakfast at the Gryffindor table. Everyone knew they were friends, knew they spent time together, but they never sat together to eat. As they were leaving the Great Hall they would hold hands and hope somebody saw.

Second, they would make sure to be seen walking together, hand-in-hand, between classes, as they shared most classes with the other eighth year students who'd returned.

Third, for lunch, they would both sit at the Slytherin table and she would talk to his friends - even Pansy.

And finally, at dinner, back at the Gryffindor table, she would kiss his cheek at the end of the meal. And from there, they would wing it.

It was a good plan. Subtle, but bold. The perfect mix.

When she made it to the common room, Draco was waiting for her, an anxious smile on his face. "Ready?" he asked, and she gave him a soft kiss.

"If this makes you uncomfortable - " she said, her elation falling.

"Are you kidding?" he asked, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. "I get to tell the world that you're mine. I just hope, at the end of the day, you don't regret it."

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck before kissing him for a long moment. "You're ridiculous." She kissed the corner of his mouth with a smile.

In the Great Hall, only a few heads turned when Draco sat beside Hermione at the Gryffindor table rather than in his usual seat at Slytherin. It wasn't so uncommon for houses to mix anymore, which was what Hermione counted on in her plan.

Hermione noted Draco's satisfied almost-grin when Michael Corner walked in. Michael's own smile fell when he saw Draco sitting where he normally did.

Still, he sat in front of Hermione, pretending Draco wasn't there, and started a conversation as he did every morning. It quickly turned from basic school things to the upcoming final Hogsmeade weekend. Apprehension crept up her spine as Michael started fishing to see if she had a date for the day. Hermione felt awkward as she imagined how she would feel if Pansy were talking to Draco this way with her only inches away. The plan wouldn't allow for Draco to say anything yet. She was just thinking of some excuse to leave when Draco interrupted the conversation.

"Are you asking my girlfriend if she'd like to go on a date with you, Corner?" he asked, staring at the Ravenclaw boy with a neutral mask on his handsome face.

"What? No. I'm asking Hermione if - "

"As I said," Draco interrupted, pausing to take a sip of his pumpkin juice and blot his mouth on his napkin. "Are you asking my girlfriend if she'd like to go on a date with you?"

Michael's eyes opened wide as he looked between Hermione and Draco. Hermione looked at Draco, also in shock, an unbelieving smile on her face.

"I, well." Michael looked at Hermione, hoping for help, and received none. "I didn't realize she was your girlfriend," he finished lamely.

By this point, the conversation around them had quieted as people listened in.

"Now you do," he said as he looked around the room at the questioning eyes. "Bloody hell," he murmured before standing. "Excuse me!" he said, waiting for all eyes to turn toward him. "I need to make a quick announcement!" It wasn't unheard of for a Head to make a mealtime announcement, but it was generally Hermione who did it.

"Our final Hogsmeade weekend is coming up soon, and it's come to my attention that there members of the male population - and I'm betting more than a few of the female population - that are interested in taking our Head Girl on a date. This is just a friendly public service announcement that she will not be going with any of you, as she is already set to go with me, her boyfriend. If you have any further questions, please do not ask either my girlfriend or myself, as we have no interest in answering you. Thanks for your time." He sat as quickly as he'd stood, and continued with his breakfast as thought every set of eyes wasn't on him.

He looked over at Hermione, who was staring at him with a wide smile on her face, her cheeks bright pink. "You didn't follow our plan," she said, unable to stop grinning.

"I improvised," he said with a shrug. "You should try it sometime."

"That's risky," she said, leaning forward.

He shrugged again and felt his own cheeks color slightly. "Some things are worth the risk."

He smirked at her, but it didn't last long, as she quickly grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him full on the lips. His arms were around her in half a second and soon The Great Hall was filled with wolf whistles and cheers. She pulled back, a brilliant grin on her face, and tucked herself into his side as Neville, beside Draco, nudged him with his elbow with a smile.

"Finally," Neville said, causing Draco to smile in a way that warmed Hermione from the inside out.

From across the room, Pansy glared at them, but other than that, there were no outbursts, no angry glares. Maybe a few heads hung in disappointment, like Michael's, but overall, it couldn't have gone better.

"We did it," she said, kissing the fabric of his shoulder beside her. "Risk and all, it worked out without trouble."

"We still have to tell your friends," he reminded her. "There's some risk, mostly to me, in doing that."

She laughed and bit her lip. "About that," she said while wrinkling her nose. "I told them weeks ago in a letter," she said, eyes wide. "They weren't exactly surprised," she admitted, chewing on her lip lightly. "But they're fine. Even Ron," she said, sitting up a little straighter, wearing a half smile.

Feeling bold, Draco put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, placing a kiss to her temple, just above her ear. "I love you, you know?" he whispered, and she blushed and bit her lip even harder.

"I know. Probably almost as much as I love you," she said back, looking up - amber eyes seeking steel and finding warmth reflected there.

He rolled his eyes and kissed the tip of her nose, and she shifted so that his lips were on hers with a smile.

"I think I just found the risk of telling everyone about us," he said quietly so only she would hear.

"What's that?" she asked, leaning toward him, a twinkle in her amber eyes, ignoring the looks all around them.

"Now that I can kiss you whenever I want - " he kissed her then, a light brush of his lips to hers - "I find I don't have any motivation to stop."

Hermione blushed and quickly finished off her juice before standing and offering him her hand. He took it, his eyes narrowed. "Where are we going?" he asked as she led him out of the Hall slowly, eyes all around following them.

"We have an hour before our first class. We're going to go somewhere where you won't have to stop," she said, her cheeks red as she tried to keep her expression neutral.

Draco's eyes opened wide and he took the lead, practically dragging her from the Great Hall toward their common room. He was surprised when instead, Hermione dragged him into an empty classroom. He was a little shocked at her boldness, but wasted no time. Draco's hands found her hair just a moment before his lips connected with hers. Hermione let her bag fall to the ground as she pulled him to her, pressing her body against his. His tongue met hers and she moaned as he pressed his fingertips into her back.

They did this the rest of the day between classes, finding empty classrooms and empty nooks and crannies in which to kiss - sometimes gentle, sometimes not. In the classes they shared, they sat together - much to Pansy's annoyance - and earned smiles from more than a few teachers when they were seen entering and leaving together, hand in hand. Hermione had never a day where she had smiled or blushed quite so much.

By the time they arrived back in their common room, it was all they could do keep their hands from one another. The common room door shut and they met each other like two magnets. Robes fell away, along with shoes, as they moved as one toward his bedroom. They stopped near the foot of the bed, his kisses becoming languid and deep as his hands ran hot trails over the fabric of her button down.

Granger. It was his voice in her head again, something he hadn't done since that night in the Manor, and her eyes eyes met his in question. He stopped kissing her to look into her eyes - steel boring into amber.

Let me in, he whispered, and she did.

They were back in that room of books and light, only this time, when they arrived, he was holding her..

"Why are we here?" she asked, simultaneously feeling his body against hers both here and in the real world - a feeling that left her tingling all over.

"So you can feel how I feel. About you," he whispered. The last time, he'd cried, he'd bared his soul, he'd let her feel his sadness in this place.

Now, a wave of pure, almost painful love washed over her and she clung to him, gasping with the sheer force of it. It hit her like soft waves, and after just a few moments, she was sobbing with how beautiful it was.

"Why show me this now?" she asked, clinging to him.

"Because I want you more than I ever have," he said, his voice low. "And before I ask you to give anything more to me, I need you to see all of me. Just in case you decide I'm not what you want."

He pulled away and pushed the sleeve of his shirt up. Unlike in real life, the Dark Mark on his arm writhed. It was like a living thing, pulsing against his pale skin, but Hermione didn't recoil.

With hands that would have been cool had then been in the real world and not in his head, she took his arm and lifted it to her mouth. There, she placed soft, delicate kisses over the blackened skin. She felt her own tears land on his skin as she kissed up and down his arm, wanting her lips to touch every inch of it, to soothe the ache that he carried there. When she was done, she looked down, and the mark had faded to look just like it did in real life.

Slowly, as they stood in each other's embrace, the room around them began to change. It was subtle, a warming of the space, but when it was done, it seemed more colorful, more substantial. A blending of the two of them.

She met his eyes and was unsurprised to find tears there. She kissed him slowly, keeping her hand on his Dark Mark as she did so.

When she pulled away from the kiss, they were back in his room. "What happened?" she asked, and unlike in that dream place, she was surprised to see tears in his eyes here.

"You changed it," he said, his voice rough as a lone tear fell down his cheek. "That place in my head. You changed it."

Her hand was on his Mark, and she lifted it to her mouth once more, kissing the faded black skin before trailing her fingers down to his hand, lifting it press a kiss to his palm.

"I want you, too," she said, whispering as she guided his hands around her waist and let her hands rest on the back of his neck. "All of you," she whispered as her lips ghosted against his.

He closed his eyes as he pressed into her, his lips taking hers swiftly, taking her breath away.

"Aren't you worried about the risk?" he asked against her mouth.

Her fingers found the buttons to his shirt and slowly began to undo them. She kissed down his jaw, down his neck. "No," she breathed as she pulled the edges of his shirt from his pants. "Not with you."

He looked down at her for a moment, his steel eyes searching hers, and then with a smile, he attacked her lips with his.

Slowly, they removed each other's clothes. He slipped her skirt over her hips, his hands shaking, and she removed his belt, followed by his pants, her palms sweaty. It felt reverent, the way they would peel away a layer of fabric and kiss one another - their lips, their skin, their hair.

"This is it," he said as he lay down beside her on the bed, his naked body pressed against her side. "As always, we can stop whenever you want, Hermione. Always." His hand was on her stomach, a hot weight that she wished he would move, not away, but all over her.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said, lacing her fingers with his as she rolled to press against him fully, making him inhale sharply. "Are you?"

"You know I'm not," he breathed just before his lips crashed against hers and the world faded away.