Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Song lyrics from "Embers" by Just Jack.

A/N: Last chapter. Thank you to all my lovely reviewers.

EMBERS

X

It was ironic how a Muggle invention had saved them. Draco's big speech on the essentiality of one's wand proved to be utterly useless during the scene of battle – which didn't turn out to be much of a battle after all.

It was nearing twelve midnight and the three Hogwarts graduates were still inside Christophe's mansion. Fiona was still under the effects of a very strong Sleeping Draught. They decided not to wake her until they returned to the villa. Instead, they transferred her onto the couch and proceeded with working on all the Protection Spells in the house. It took them more than an hour to get all of them down.

Christophe's body was lying on his own king-sized bed.

Hermione cringed at the sight. The room reeked of death. It set her hairs standing on end. Blaise cautioned everyone not to touch the corpse. "Best to leave it be. The police can come up with their own story."

Hermione shook her head and sighed. "This is going to look bad for Aunt Fiona. She's going to be a prime suspect for this case." She frowned. The media would most likely link the two deaths together. She could see it in the papers now: Adrien Damas and Christophe Gilles, both seen talking to Fiona Granger at a Charity Ball, both found dead in their own homes. If only she could obliviate the entire Muggle media.

"Any suggestions on what to do with Rowle's body?" Draco asked nonchantly, almost as if he were wondering what to wear and not what to do with a Death Eater's carcass. He nudged the body with the tip of his boot. There was a pool of blood around his head. The bullet had gone straight through his brain. His dark eyes were glassy in the dim light.

"Chuck it into the ocean?" Hermione suggested.

"Bury it in the backyard?" Blaise added.

Draco shot him a look. "That's a bad idea. This house will be for sale. We wouldn't want Rowle's ghost stalking the new residents."

"Good point."

"We should burn it."

"We should." Blaise agreed.

Hermione frowned. "How do you think he managed all this?"

"I found some ingredients in a knapsack." Blaise shrugged. "Lacewing flies, leeches, powdered bicorn horn, Fluxweed, shredded Boomslang skin, and a few strands of hair. There were two different shades."

"A Polyjuice Potion." Hermione's eyebrows were knitted together in deep thought. "That's impossible. It takes a month to brew." She would know. She had made one in their Second Year at Hogwarts. "Aunt Fiona met the two actors just last week."

"He planned it, I suppose." Draco said. "I hate to admit it, but he did a fucking good job – evading the Ministry, finding you." Hermione shuddered. She had been so close – so close to being killed.

"What about Aunt Fiona?" Hermione asked. "There's got to be some way to get her out of this mess."

"Easy. We extricate her memories, check the people who had seen them together and erase their memories." Blaise said with a grin. "We can use that Muggle device that removes memories – you know, the one that's this big and has a small red light? You don't happen to have any one of those do you Hermione?"

Hermione stared at him. "The people who carried them don't happen to wear black suits and sunglasses now do they?"

"Exactly!"

Hermione burst out laughing. "I believe you just watched Men In Black. And no, Blaise. Those things don't exist."

Blaise's face fell. "Then we'll have to do it the hard way then."

"Memory charms?" Hermione asked. "I can help you with those."

Draco nodded. "Let's get to work. We have a lot to do."

There were only three people who had seen Christophe Gilles and Fiona Granger that eventful night. The chauffer of Christophe's limousine, the Maître d' at the fancy restaurant where they had dined (they were given a private room), and their waiter. Hermione's Memory Charms worked to perfection and by the time Fiona woke up, she was already tucked away in her own bed.

It was not until they collapsed on the couch of Fiona's living room that Hermione realized that it was all truly over. They had burned Thorfinn Rowle's body and thrown the ashes in a dumpster half-filled with garbage. She had completely nothing to worry about now. She was safe. Which meant she no longer had need of a bodyguard.

Reality struck her hard across the face.

"Congratulations comrade. We did it." Blaise said with a huge exhale, clapping Draco on the back enthusiastically.

"Yes we did." Draco murmured. His eyes travelled over hers for a moment. And Hermione would like to think that she was imagining things, but she was quite certain that she could see a hint of wistfulness there. The blonde Slytherin smirked and the moment was gone. "But I'm afraid we were wrong. Hermione could take care of herself after all."

"That she did." Blaise said with a solemn nod. "Who knew? The fall of a Death Eater by Muggle means."

Hermione, still contemplating upon her sudden realization, could only manage a small smile. "Sounds like a movie title." She joked. "Seriously though, a wizard should never underestimate the power of the Muggle mind."

Blaise shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid Muggles have created a nasty way to kill. Avada Kedavra actually sounds a whole lot more appealing compared to what a gun could do."

This, Hermione knew, was actually quite true. While the Killing Curse was positively fatal, it was also extremely clean. And the pain lasted for only a millisecond. Or so she had been told. The weapons that Muggles had designed to murder, however, were far from neat. Hermione shuddered inwardly. To die by Muggle means would be the worst kind of death.

"How did it feel?" Draco asked quietly.

Hermione blinked. How did it feel? It was something that she hadn't pondered about yet. Her mind flashed back onto the scene, and she could remember everything with an unexpected clarity. Rowle with his back turned, her warm flesh coming in contact with cold metal, the sound of the gun cocking. It had sent her senses on overdrive. The adrenaline rush that she had felt that night could not compare to any other experience in her entire life.

"It was strangely – exhilarating." She found herself saying, lost in recollection. "To think that I could finally exact vengeance on the one person that had destroyed my life somehow heightened everything. Pulling that trigger was simply – instinctive."

"Revenge is best served cold." Blaise said with a yawn. Hermione glanced at her watch. It was half past two in the morning. It was not unusual for her to be awake at this hour. Working for Fiona entailed attending parties that lasted till dawn. But the incident that night had somehow left her feeling drained. All exhilaration had vanished and exhaustion had come to take it's place.

"Shall we call this a night?" Blaise asked. "We can book a flight tomorrow morning – wait, it is tomorrow morning isn't it? When we wake up, then." He stood and stretched his arms above his head, glancing at Draco. "You coming? We can share the room. I'm sure Hermione would love to have her bed back to herself. She's more than safe now."

What? – No!

Hermione mentally slapped herself. That wasn't right. Draco didn't belong to her. They shared one kiss. She shouldn't be feeling like this – like she was. She stopped herself, unwilling to continue the sentence.

"You go ahead. I just need to have a few words with Hermione first." Draco's tone was smooth. She shifted in her seat. Blaise arched an eyebrow but nodded nonetheless. He climbed up the stairs and disappeared into his bedroom. She wondered briefly if the dark-haired man suspected anything.

"What about?" She asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Sound began to emanate from Blaise's closed bedroom door. It seemed that he slept with the television on every night. He was becoming quite addicted to the thing. The strains of one of her favorite songs reverberated in the silence.

/The facts and the figures/

Draco raised an eyebrow. It unnerved her how the two Slytherins could have such similar mannerisms. "I'm sure you know what."

"I'm not psychic, Draco." Hermione pointed out brusquely. That came out wrong. She did not mean for it to sound so abrupt. She blamed her nerves. Her stomach was doing flip-flops.

/They overwhelm a stifle,
Everything that you thought you knew/

"We're leaving tomorrow." Draco stated carefully. "We're returning to London."

"I know that." She said, feeling an urge to look away. She could not stand the way his eyes seemed to be boring into her, as if he could see into her very soul. He had broken all barriers the night she had decided to tell him about her past. And for some reason, those walls remained down. She had nothing to hide from him anymore.

"Don't you ever think of going back?"

"Everyday." She answered.

"Then why don't you?"

/And the petty decisions that you think make a difference/

Hermione stared at him. There was nothing but earnestness on his face. It was only that, that impelled her to respond. "Why? Because that place brings back all the worst memories. There is nothing left for me there."

/So tiny that they blow away like dust/

"Memories are just memories, Hermione. You don't let them define you." She found herself lost in Draco's stormy gaze. "And how can you say that there is nothing left? There's plenty left. You just need to have the courage to move forward and make something of yourself. Surely, the smartest witch that Hogwarts has ever seen cannot be reduced to a mere Arithmancer." His hand came to rest on her cheek. It was cool. "Have a little faith."

/Embers, embers, embers/

Hermione blinked. "That almost sounded like a pep talk."

Draco's lips twitched. "Maybe it was."

/Through all of the devilish things we do/

"I'm afraid I'm not convinced." Hermione said with a shrug. She just wasn't ready. Maybe in two or three years. But definitely, not now. "I'm living a good life here, Draco."

"As a Muggle." He stated flatly.

"I'm proud of my roots." Hermione said defensively.

"That's not who you really are."

"I'm still not convinced, Draco."

/Through all of the devilish things we do/

"Then maybe I'll have to find other ways to convince you."

This time, he caught her completely off guard. His hand swiftly pulled her head towards his, allowing their lips to meet in a shocking collision. He was everything but gentle. His tongue came to invade her mouth without pause, exploring every corner, making her melt into his waiting embrace. She found herself responding. Fiercely. Desperately.

/We are all embers

From the same fire/

She realized she didn't want him to leave. "Stay." She gasped.

"No." Draco said in a half-growl that sent shivers running down her spine. His lips were demanding, his scent intoxicating. She was heady with desire. This was Draco. Draco Malfoy. And he wanted her.

And her alone.

/Embers, embers, embers/

He released his hold on her. Grey eyes crashed into brown ones. They searched. They pleaded.

"Come with me."

/So tiny that they blow away like dust/

Epilogue

There were three reasons why I decided to return.

First and foremost, my job as Aunt Fiona's personal assistant no longer held so much appeal after brandishing around a wand in a Death Eater's house. It didn't matter that I didn't get to actually use it. I found that I missed my wand more than I let on. To make a long story short, I missed using magic. I missed being around magic. Plus, I was getting tired of running around in high heels.

Second, there was a job opening at the Ministry of Magic. And no, it was not to work as an Arithmancer. I have no desire to return to that sort of profession. I decided to try my luck at being an Obliviator. I was quite good with Memory Charms, after all.

And last but not the least, I could not bear to be separated from the one person who pulled me out from the darkness and into his bed – ahem, into the light. Draco Malfoy had gathered up the broken pieces that used to be my heart and put them back together again.

Cheesy? I speak only of the truth.

FIN

A/N: Thank you for everyone who stuck till the end! One last review?