Chains

The Second Wizard war is dragging on. As the commander of the Order, Hermione feels the whole weight of the war on her shoulders. The only thing that makes her breathe is ironically, Draco Malfoy.
The Death Eater, pure-blood supremacist, and murderer.
Fuck her taste in men.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

He never smoked. She did.

Hermione sat up and reached for her cigarette and fire. Draco let her slip away.

“You know you’re not allowed to smoke in the room.” he drawled. Hermione took another drag of her cigarette.

“I am sure you can perform an air-cleansing charm for me.”

“I wouldn’t waste my magic for a courtesan, would I?”

“You didn’t pay me anything, Malfoy.”

He murmured a familiar charm. The air cleaned itself, and the scent of smoke disappeared. He looked up at Hermione with lazy eyes.

“I just did.”

“Fuck off.”

He let out a low laugh. His voice was raw.

“Come back here, Granger. I don’t like my bed cold.”

Hermione sneered, but eventually, she dropped her smoke and returned to bed. Draco’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. She thought about pushing him away for a second, but his temperature was irresistible.

After all, it was why she was here in the first place. A muggle hotel in Cornwall where no magical beings would come close to. Because she was desperate for warmth with a beating heart.

But she could almost feel the Dark Mark on Malfoy’s forearm as he pulled her closer to his chest. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore it.

Draco noticed her body tightening. His voice rang around her ears.

“You don’t like my mark?”

“Of course I don’t. You Death Eaters took away everything from me.”

“And yet you agree to shag with me.”

“I killed both your aunt and father, but you’re still sleeping with me.”

Silence filled the room. Hermione could feel his breath on the side of her neck.

“I don’t mind Aunt Bella’s death. But my father....yes, that was unfortunate.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“My Lord doesn’t forgive his servants just because they are dead. I had to take over their punishment.”

Punishment. Hermione searched through her memories without even realising it. She remembered the day when Draco entered the room, looking pale and exhausted. She remembered how his muscles seemed to be out of control - as if he was suppressing a seizure. Like that was possible.

“He used Cruciatus on you.”

He didn’t answer. Hermione pressed him.

“How long?”

“10 minutes. 5 for each person.”

“You-” Hermione felt her voice tremble. “You should be dead. You should have lost your mind.”

“Don't I look sane to you, Granger?"

Hermione felt the urge to turn around and face him. To check if he was ok, although it was already late. She pushed down the impulse. That would be too intimate. It would seem like she cared.

"Pity that you are healthier than others. We would have appreciated it if you were gone, along with Lucius and Bellatrix."

"Ah, but who would you fuck if I am gone?"

"I can always find an alternative."

He chuckled. "No one would make you go to sleep."

She couldn't find an answer. Hermione decided to ignore him and tried to relax, hoping to sleep. But she couldn't help but ask.

"How much damage?"

"Unfortunately, not enough to kill me."

She bit her lips. Draco reached up and brushed her lips like he knew she was going to torture them.

"Go to sleep, Granger."

Next week she felt her pendant burning. She quickly picked up the necklace close to her ear.

[Tonight. 2 am.]

She didn't answer. Draco would know that silence is a yes.

Hermione looked up to find a clock. 4 pm. She was desperate for some sleep. Hermione wondered if she went to the hotel room now and tried to sleep, she would manage.

She already knew the answer. She won't be able to.

At 2 o'clock, Hermione walked out from the safehouse and apparated to the hotel room. Draco was already lying on the bed, the sheets barely covering his pubis. Hermione noticed the additional scar decorating his abdomen.

Without a word, she started to take off her clothing. Draco watched as she stripped out of her shirt. Then he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down on the bed, letting her clash on him.

Draco was always burning. Hermione gasped for air as his hands touched her, his lips licking and sucking her everywhere. The sensation was overwhelming. She arched toward him, trying to find his hips to match her own, but he hissed and pushed her down.

She was about to push herself up again to meet Draco's torso when his hands finally reached down to her core. She could feel herself dripping wet, waiting for him to slid into her. Draco didn't disappoint her. Hermione moaned as he pushed his way inside. The pressure was relieving. She wrapped her arms around Draco's shoulder and made him sink into her body. He pulled himself out almost entirely then pushed into her again, each thrust hard and deep. She panted into his ears while he groaned against hers.

Their sex was wordless. Finally, Hermione grabbed Draco as she felt herself clenching around him - the second orgasm of the night - and him growling as he let himself come.

There was a moment of silence. Hermione watched as the grey returned to his eyes. He gently pulled himself out, and she felt the warm liquid trickling down her inner thighs. She observed Draco as he stared between her legs.

She almost waited for him to start it all over again, his eyes to be blown black with lust. She expected him to sink into her again.

He didn't. Instead, he murmured a cleansing charm for them both. Hermione's body instantly felt like she had taken a shower.

"Only once today?"

"You look tired."

"I can handle another round."

Rather than answering, Draco tucked her under his chin. His arms were again hugging her, one arm wrapping around her abdomen while the other pressing into her breasts. The pressure felt safe. Hermione didn't argue more but settled in his arms. Her eyelids started to feel heavy.

Just before falling asleep, she wondered why it had to be Draco's warmth. His heartbeat.

She couldn't answer her own question.

Draco had the same pendant with her, only that it was an earring. She reached up and fiddled with it.

"Doesn't your ears hurt when I speak if it is an earring?"

"You know how small the sound is."

She knew. She made it herself, after all.

"Turn around, Granger. I want to sleep now."

She did. As soon as she turned away, Draco closed his arms around her and pressed her back into his chest. Hermione could hear a heartbeat through her body.

She hesitated. But she couldn't stop herself.

"Avoid going to Ministry of Magic this Wednesday."

He laughed—almost a sneer. Hermione couldn't tell them apart. She regretted speaking instantly.

"Worried about me?"

She refused to answer. Draco lowered his chin and buried himself in her neck. She could feel his lips moving as he spoke.

"You know I can't disobey orders."

She knew. Hermione bit her bottom lips, wishing she could clench her fist, too. But Draco's hands were covering hers, and it was almost like they were holding hands.

"But I'll try."

Hermione felt herself relaxing. She half-expected Draco to tease her again, but he didn't. The night drifted away in peace.

"Healer!" Hermione screamed as she apparated back to their safehouse. "I need a Healer now! Immediately!"

She was carrying Ginny on her back. A Healer rushed towards Hermione and helped her settle Ginny on a bed. There was blood everywhere. Blood dripped from her hair and trickled down her face.

"It was an unknown spell. Ginny immediately collapsed and threw up blood."

The Healer cast a diagnosis spell. Ginny's body continued to shake, and for a horrible moment, she stopped. Then she jerked and vomited more blood.

"It’s internal bleeding. I have to take her inside the ward to – Healer Brown!”

Hermione watched impotently as the Healer used Wingardium Leviousa on Ginny and ran inside. Hermione stood at the entrance, unable to move. The sound of Healers’ yelling and screaming of pain from patients suddenly felt surreal, and the drops of red blurred her sight. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness washed over her and left her body numb. She didn’t know how long she has been standing at the entrance when someone took her hand.

Hermione slowly raised her head and found Lupin. He gave her a faint smile.

“We won today, Hermione. Your strategy led us to victory. We destroyed one of Voldemort’s major fortress.”

His words crashed on Hermione. It was like a huge rock dropping on her and the gravity slamming her down. She barely managed a nod and went up the stairs to enter her room. She was about to throw herself on the bed when she couldn’t stand it anymore. She ran down the stairs desperately and dashed out the door. She pulled out her necklace from her top.

“I need you now, Malfoy.”

Then she apparated to the hotel.

She waited for him at the hotel for only a few minutes. Hermione was sitting on the bed, hugging her knees, when Malfoy apparated with a grumble.

“Where are your manners, Granger? You can’t just call me this abruptly.”

“I would have waited.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You said ‘now’.”

Maybe she did. She lowered her eyes and stared at the sheets.

A while later, she heard a sign above. Then the bed shifted, and she knew that Draco was getting closer. Hermione shut her eyes close. She couldn’t believe that she was here. That she searched for Draco Malfoy, a pure-blood supremacist, Death Eater and murderer of her people, for comfort. She was on the verge of a breakdown, and Malfoy was the first thing that came to her mind. For some reason, she believed that Draco and Draco only would be able to save her from this abyss she managed to jump into.

His arms wrapped around her, and it felt like both redemption and destruction. She slowly looked up and was trapped by the greyness. The colour of the chains. The iron that would bind her and imprison her forever.

She tried to push him away. To disentangle herself from his eyes. She poured all her energy that she had left to fight. He was like the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge in the Bible. Sweet, but dangerous. Irreversible. This would be her last chance.

But it was useless. Draco pulled her a little closer and said in a firm yet small voice: “You called me here, Granger.”

She did. She asked him to come. It was why he was here. She did this to herself.

Hermione knew that she cared for Draco. Despite what he had done, she cared enough to be anxious about his well-being. But this was something else. The moment she looked into his eyes, she felt the chains wrapping her around her neck and face until she was lost entirely in grey. His existence was inevitable for her survival. She needed him so desperately that she couldn’t imagine herself without the warmth, the heartbeat – without Draco Malfoy.

Hermione was in love with him. She willingly threw herself into a pit that she knew she wouldn’t be able to climb back up.

The realization made her enervated, almost depressed. She gave up fighting and melted in Draco’s arms, crying and panting softly. He planted a kiss on her forehead and held her tight.

“Granger, what’s wrong?”

“I - ” her voice broke. There was a reason why she was here. Why she called for Draco. But the new acknowledgement was so devastating that nothing seemed so important anymore. Hermione barely managed to stop her jaws from trembling and spat out the first instant thought.

“Ginny – Ginny is hurt.”

“The attack on Dover Castle.” Draco’s voice was low and calm, enough to encourage Hermione to recover and begin thinking again. “I thought you won. The Dark Lord was….furious.”

“We did. But that doesn’t – it doesn’t mean that people aren’t hurt.” She chocked back a sob.

He nodded without another sound. Draco held her close while Hermione buried herself in his arms. It was self-destructing, antinomical and a betrayal to her friends. But it was all she had. She let herself go and started talking.

"I plan missions. I send people to battlefields, and they come back injured or dead. I can’t shake away the thought that it’s my fault. I should have made a better plan. I should have found another way to save everyone. And each time I fail I….I feel like I am the one who killed them.”

“You know that’s bullshit.”

“Maybe. But I did send them to fight with….” She searched for words but couldn’t find a substitution. “Death Eaters. So, it’s partially true that I sent them to their death.

“They chose to fight against the Dark Lord. They volunteered to join the War. You did your best to keep them safe, but you can’t guarantee everything. You’re not responsible for their choices, Granger. No commander is blamed for her soldier’s death.”

Hermione tried to drink down those words. To digest them and inject them in her veins so that eventually the message would reach her brain. She managed to whisper: “Thank you.”

They spent the night leaning against the headboard. Hermione kept pushing herself into Draco’s chest, desperate for more warmth, until he picked her up and made her sit on his thighs. She wrapped her arms around his neck and settled her face on his shoulder, breathing in his woody scent.

Hermione wished the time would just stop so that they could be trapped in this night forever.

Draco had been missing for a month. Hermione found herself continuously fiddling with her necklace, waiting for it to burn up. No sign. She was staring outside the window while playing with the pendant when someone touched her shoulder. She immediately tensed and turned around, her hand already reaching for her wand. It was from Harry. He put his hands up as in surrender.

"Sorry. Did I startle you?"

"No, it's just...." Hermione slowly put her wand down. "No, yeah. I guess I was a little surprised. Why?"

"The meeting is in half an hour. I thought I should warn you. You looked...a bit lost these days."

She knew. Hermione signed and returned her attention to the world outside the window.

"What are you looking at?"

"The Muggle world."

Harry gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "It looks peaceful."

"It does." she agreed. "Don't you think it's weird sometimes that we are at war in London, but the Muggles don't realise it? They see it as increased terrorist attacks and are threatening the Middle East."

"Well, I like to think that we are fighting to keep this peace." Harry's voice was firm. "Because if we surrender, they will be next."

After a while, Hermione managed to answer. "You are right."

But she couldn't deny that she was exhausted. Without Draco, she couldn't get a night of decent sleep during the last month. She couldn't shake away the thought of how easy it will be if she decided to run away. The muggle world was familiar to her. It would be so easy for her to leave this War and blend in with the muggles; she could even leave this country and go to another continent - maybe Australia, where her parents were - and led a life far from the war. She could.

But she wouldn't. For Harry. For Ron and Ginny. All of her friends and the muggle-borns. For a world where people like her will be welcomed in the wizarding society.

"You are right, Harry."

The recognition strangled her.

He hugged her from behind. The warmth was comforting, but it wasn't what she needed. She desired something else. But she still raised her hands to hold Harry's arms.

"Let's just stay like this for a while. Before the meeting starts."

“Thank you,” she whispered. But she couldn’t help but think how much better she would feel if it was Draco instead of Harry. The thought instantly made her feel guilty. The duplicity of her emotions, along with the War, was slowly killing her.

People started to enter the dining room for the meeting, and Harry let her go. He walked to his usual seat, and Hermione found hers. She was the strategist and one of the best duellists, along with Harry. Her role was crucial. The Order would fell if she left. She continuously reminded herself that while pushing down a desire that she refused to verbalise.

Kingsley rushed in. He was visibly furious.

"I just received a piece of information that Malfoy visited Italy and negotiated with the Minister there. Apparently, You-Know-Who earned their support. The Italian forces will be arriving soon, probably within the two weeks."

Everyone's expression tensed. Hermione found herself thinking about Draco first. So that's why he has been missing. She reached for her necklace.

Maybe she should add a charm that shows the well-being of the wearer. She could make the charm change colours depending onㅡ

"Hermione, do you have any ideas?"

She jumped. "Sorry, what?"

"I just asked you what we should do with the new Italian forces," Lupin repeated his question slowly. "Are you alright, Hermione?"

"I'm fine. I was just thinking of what to do."

Mad-Eye examined her suspiciously. She ignored it completely and used her wand to bring forward the British map.

"Do you have any idea where they will arrive, Kingsley?"

"No idea." Kingsley groaned. Hermione nodded.

"We need to get the information. If the forces truly come, our best chance is to raid them when they arrive."

He nodded. Hermione turned to Cho.

"Cho, how is the negotiation with France going?"

"There are just too many pureblood families there." she signed. "Moreover, the Malfoys' influence is too strong. Not to mention the Lestranges. So, I was hoping to change our target - America."

"MACUSA?" Mad-Eye grunted. "They are cowards. They won't interfere with 'European affairs'."

"But there are no ancient pureblood families there." Cho pressed. "If we point out that You-Know-Who's ambition wouldn't stop by conquering all of Europe-"

The pendant burned. Hermione jumped, and all members’ attention fixed on her. She grabbed the necklace to muffle any sound and mumbled. "Sorry...goosebumps." Then she cleared her voice.

"I like the idea of contacting MACUSA, Cho. You are right; France is like Italy. There are too many pureblood families there. But I don't think You-Know-Who's ambitions would threaten the Americans. I'm fairly sure they will think that they can fend off his forces."

Cho nodded reluctantly. Hermione searched her brain for ideas.

"However, MACUSA won't like the idea of being exposed. They went through a horrible war between wizards and muggles before, right?"

Lupin nodded. "The American Civil War, yes. Unfortunately, wizards there made some wrong choices and were almost eradicated by President Lincoln."

"You-Know-Who is trying to dominate both the wizarding world and the muggle world. That means that magic will be exposed. Try that, Cho."

"Got it, Hermione," Cho answered reassuringly. Sometimes Hermione was thankful for Cho's existence then Harry and Ron. It was a relief to have another capable brain on her side.

"If we get the American forces, we'll be able to handle the inflow of Italians. But we need to buy Cho time. Besides the surprise attack, I think it's time for us to launch an attack on You-Know-Who's forces."

Hermione could see Mad-Eye nodding. But Harry's body tensed, and Ron's expression noticeably hardened. Hermione ignored them all and pointed at Gwynedd.

"I think our next target should be the Caernarfon Castle."

Someone took a sharp breath. Ron jumped on his chair. His voice was anxious.

"Hermione - that's one of the most protected places in Britain. It's surrounded by Vampires, Werewolves, Death Eaters-"

"It's also a place where they train their armies. We can't afford any more Death Eaters. By attacking the place, we'll be able to put a stop to the increase of their military."

"'he's right." Fleur stepped in. "Besides, we attack it, succeed, it will cause major 'arm to 'is army. We need to reduce their military forces, especially with the Italien income."

The pendant burned again. Hermione grabbed the necklace but continued to ignore it.

"Mad-Eye, can you organise the troops for me? We need to come up with a battle strategy."

Mad-Eye grunted in agreement. Hermione took a deep breath. "Anything else?"

No one said anything. Hermione nodded.

"Then I guess this is it for today."

People started to leave. Bill took Fleur's arms and left. Hermione saw Harry standing up and stopped him.

"Harry, can we talk?"

"Sure, Hermione."

"Should I join you?" Ron asked. Harry looked at Hermione for approval. She hesitated for a moment but nodded as a yes.

"Let's go to our room then."

Together they went up the stairs and entered Harry and Ron's room. Hermione closed the door behind them and murmured Muffliato.

"Harry, we can't continue like this."

Harry's expression stiffened. Unfortunately, Hermione has been standing on the edge for too long that she didn't have any solicitude to spare.

"The War is meaningless if we can't kill You-Know-Who. I don't want to admit this, but the pure-blood families have more connection and wealth than us. The longer the war drags on, the better chance they have."

"Hermione -" Ron started, frowning at the sharpness of Hermione's tone, but Harry stopped him.

"You are right, Hermione. I guess we'll have to search for the Horcrux again."

"We searched everywhere. We traced everything related to You-Know-Who's past, the four founders and the Deathly Hallows. We didn't find anything."

"We don't have any choice, Ron," Hermione replied coldly. "We need to do this. Or this War isn't going to end."

"You think I don't want to win? I lost my brothers. My dad. I want to end this War as much as you do. But you can't just coerce Harry to find and destroy the Horcruxes without any clue yourself!"

Ron shout rang the room. Hermione bit her lips as the urge to leave them ascended from her stomach. She just - wanted to escape. Walk away. Did Ron think she wanted to burden Harry more on this issue? But she had an army on her shoulders. People died while carrying out her commands. She had the duty to put an end to the War as fast as possible.

Harry rubbed his forehead and pulled Ron down. "Ron, there is no need to yell at Hermione. She has a point. We do need to kill You-Know-Who, and destroying the Horcruxes is essential for that." Then he looked at Hermione. "Would you be able to manage my absence in the attacks we planned today?"

"I'll work on it."

"Right." he signed. Ron glared at her. "Harry can't do this alone. I should go with him."

"No, Ron. Our forces need you." But Hermione shook her head.

"I don't think it's safe for you to travel yourself either. Ron, you should go with Harry. I'll take care of everything else."

Harry looked at her, his eyes full of worries. Hermione tried to reassure him.

"It's fine. Remember, finding the Horcrux is more important than the attacks."

Harry nodded reluctantly. Hermione stood up to leave. She needed a rest. A good night sleep. She wanted to return to the hotel room and be hugged. She was desperate for someone to hold her during the night.

"Hermione," Harry stopped her. "Where should I start?"

She didn't want to answer. She really didn't. But she knew that she had to.

"You should start with Nagini."

Hermione walked out. She could hear Ron screaming inside the room. "She's trying to kill you, Harry! She's going to get you killed!"

She almost wanted to blame Harry for asking such a question, but she stopped herself. She needed to get away. She left the safehouse and apparated to the hotel without even contacting Draco.

Surprisingly, Draco was already there. He was lying on the bed with his eyes closed. When she appeared with a pop, he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"You ignored me twice, Granger."

"I was in a meeting."

"Oh?" he chuckled. "What kind of brilliant plan did you come up with?"

She ignored the question and took off her t-shirt. Draco shook his head.

"Not today, Granger. I'm too tired."

"Then why call me?"

"I needed some decent sleep."

Hermione closed her mouth. After a moment, she put her clothes back on.

"I heard you went to Italy."

"News travel fast, huh?" He gave a crooked smile. "I see there is a hole in our security."

Without answering, Hermione used her wand and transfigured her clothes to a nightgown. Then she slipped into the bed. Draco immediately pulled her close. Hermione felt herself relaxing at the familiar temperature. She finally felt like she could breathe.

"The Italians are going to arrive next Tuesday. Minister Marco promised full support."

"I see."

"What are you going to do if you lose?"

Draco's question made her laugh. "I don't need to do anything. Someone will kill me."

He didn't answer. Hermione felt his arms tightening.

"I'll rather you kill me, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"I killed your father. It would feel right."

There was silence. Hermione didn’t expect Draco to say anything back. She closed her eyes and was about to fall asleep when she heard his voice.

"I am not going to kill you."

"You would if you see me on a battlefield."

"I won't."

It felt like a promise. A vow. Hermione couldn't stop herself from believing it. Instead, she closed her eyes once more and tried to ignore it altogether, to turn a blind eye to the fact that she trusted him.

She was in love with him, and now she was also trusting him. But one day, they might reunite on the battlefield, wands pointing at each other.

Would she be able to kill Draco then?

She woke up and shivered. What kept her warm during the night disappeared.

Usually, Draco held her until she woke. Today she found him sitting on the couch, looking at her. Hermione intentionally made a frown.

"What are you looking at?"

"Did you fell in love with a snake?"

"What?"

"You kept saying Nagini in your sleep."

It's been two months since Harry and Ron left the headquarters. Hermione successfully carried on a surprise attack on the Italians during the time, but they kept flowing in. The Order has been forced into a corner; they lacked everything: healers, soldiers, supplies. Hermione's plan to invade the Caernarfon Castle was pushed back due to such circumstances, which only allowed Voldemort's army to grow. With more capable wizards, they continued to attack Order facilities or muggles, making their shortage more severe. It was a vicious cycle that Hermione had no idea how to halt. She knew she had to come up with something. Everybody expected her to. But she couldn't.

She has fallen into the pit of despair and didn't have time to let herself climb out of it. She never slept. She almost didn't eat. She could feel herself gradually die and let it happen.

The fact that Harry and Ron didn't send any message, or the pendant didn't burn at all for the last two months didn't help. Even the devastating situation of the Order didn't stop her from thinking about Draco Malfoy. Two months was a huge gap. Before Italy, they met almost every single day. She tried contacting Draco, but he never answered. She went to the hotel and spent nights waiting. She kept wondering if he was hurt or if he was dead. Every time Malfoy came up during meetings, she would show some kind of reaction. She knew that both Mad-Eye and Kingsley was looking at her suspiciously, but she couldn't stop herself. The slightest hint of his survival made her breathe again.

Kingsley caught her slowly walking down to the kitchen. His face looked pained.

"Hermione. Do you have a minute?"

She just nodded. Kingsley brought her to his office, gestured her to sit down and offered tea. She declined and sat down.

"Any news from Harry or Ron?"

"No. Not yet."

He was quiet for a while. Hermione felt like the air was strangling her. She suppressed the urge to choke.

"We won't last long like this."

"I know."

"Do you think Harry will be able to kill You-Know-Who?"

She didn't know. She wasn't questioning Harry's abilities, but she started to wonder if they could ever find the last Horcrux or if they could kill Nagini, which Voldemort always kept close.

"I'll change my question - Do you want Harry to kill You-Know-Who?"

The inquiry was - if she had the energy, she would have stood up and yelled at Kingsley for insulting her. It was unbelievable. Absolute nonsense. She had the right to hex him for questioning her. Hermione should have accepted the tea so that she could throw it at Kingsley's face now. But at the same time, she doubted that she had the strength to do so.

"I've been leading this War the whole time. Of course I want Harry to kill him. I want this War to be over. Or are you thinking that I am a spy who is abusing my position to lead the Order into doom?"

"No. I believe that your tactics were efficient. They led us to victory during battles. I also believe that you are keeping us alive right now. I believe that if you weren't here, we wouldn't have last this long. We couldn't have survived the shortage without you."

"Then why do you doubt me?"

"Because if You-Know-Who collapses, it would mean the end for Malfoy."

She froze. It felt like when she saw Basilisk's eyes through the mirror in second grade. She forced her words out.

"Are you inferring that I am....that I have some kind of relationship with Malfoy?"

"I am. In fact, I am convinced that you have been sleeping with him. I know about that hotel in Cornwall."

"Your sources are wrong. I don't know any hotel in Cornwall."

"Hermione. I trust that you didn't leak out any information to him. You didn't. But I must ask why."

"I never met Malfoy after 6th grade."

Kingsley locked eyes with her. She didn't budge. She could feel him pushing, but she wasn't going to give in.

He was her windpipe. He was the only reason she was alive—a small haven in this hell.

Hermione couldn't give it up.

Finally, Kingsley signed. "If you must."

"I'm only telling the trust."

"Hermione, if we could use Draco Malfoy, we'll be able to win this War. He is a high-ranking Death Eater. After his father and aunt died, he took over their place. You know his value -"

"I said," Hermione gritted her teeth. "I never met him."

Kingsley's expression stiffened. She knew that she lost his trust at that moment. He would continuously question her and doubt her loyalty. He would no longer be her friend.

She was surprised to find that she didn't care at all. Kingsley’s trust wasn't as valuable as Draco's safety.

In fact, Hermione realised, Draco was more important to her than Kingsley Shackbolt.

His call was abrupt. Hermione was playing with her pendant in her office when it burned. She frantically pulled the necklace near her ear.

[Yarrow Hotel in Broadstairs. Today Midnight.]

A change of location? Draco must have realised that Kingsley knew about the hotel at Cornwall. She pressed the pendant to her lips and whispered.

“Which room?”

A silence. [I’ll see you at the entrance.]

That was – reckless. Dangerous. Someone might see them together that way. But Hermione didn’t argue. She figured that Draco would be prepared for such risks. Both of their lives were at stake, not just hers.

When midnight finally came, she apparated at the hotel. She could smell the salt in the air. Hermione was about to turn around to find Draco when a hand grabbed her waist.

“Malfoy?”

“Are you anticipating someone else?” He smirked and led her towards the hotel. “This way.”

She followed him without a word, knowing that speaking won’t be safe. Draco was wearing a black dress shirt and black suit pants. Formal, but absolutely muggle. Where did he even get those stuff? She couldn’t image Draco Malfoy shopping in Muggle London.

As soon as they entered the room, Draco pushed her into a wall and started kissing. She pushed him right back. Sex wasn’t her priority today.

“Where have you been?! You’ve been missing for two months!”

“I was on a mission.”

“You could have at least called! What do you think I made our pendant for? I was worried out of my mind wondering what happened to you! I went to the hotel and spent nights waiting –”

“Ah, so that’s how they found out about the hotel.” Draco cut in. Hermione stopped, her eyes wide.

“Did – Did You-Know-Who find out about –”

“No, he didn’t. Not about us.” Draco shrugged. “My colleagues discovered you going in and out of the hotel several times and figured that it was your ‘vacation spot’. They tore down the hotel. A shame.”

It was terrifying. Hermione didn’t hear about a terrorist attack in Cornwall. When Kingsley talked about it, he didn’t tell her that it has been destroyed.

– He left out the information intentionally.

Why? To get Hermione killed? So when she apparated to the hotel’s ruins, the Death Eaters would see her and kill her?

Draco narrowed his eyes. “What’s bothering you?”

“Kingsley….” Hermione spoke without thinking. “Kingsley knows about us.”

“Ah,” He said casually, but Hermione could feel his eyes searching her. “What did he say?”

“He asked me why. I denied everything. But he didn’t believe me.”

“No torture? What a merciful lord you serve.”

“Kingsley is not my lord,” Hermione snapped. “Nobody is, unlike you.”

Draco just smirked, but Hermione noticed his left jaw struggling. In fact, she realised, all of his left body seemed to be malfunctioning. Hermione cast a Relax-Muscle Spell for him.

“Generous.” He smiled. “Or is this an encouragement for your gigolo?”

“I just don’t want you to stop in the middle of shagging because your thighs hurt.”

“Craving for sleep?”

“I didn’t sleep for the last two month because of you.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to make up for that.” He grabbed her waist, and they crashed on the bed together.

Draco was soft. Excessively. He treated her like she was glass or porcelain that was about to break. Hermione didn’t like it. She wanted him to fuck her so hard that she could forget everything – the War, Kingsley, Horcruxes, Harry and Ron. But soft and slow sex couldn’t do that. Instead, she could feel every single thing. Every touch. Every breath. She could feel both craving and guilt each time Draco caressed her skin. She asked - no begged for more, but he didn’t budge. She cried desperately, but he would only lick them away. Draco planted soft kisses and sucked her breast lightly, and she was lucid enough to measure her arousal.

“You’re – you’re never going to make me go to sleep like this.” She panted as she spoke. Another thrust and Hermione groaned in irritation. She wanted him to go faster. Harder. The fiction was satisfying but not enough to shut down her brain.

He didn’t even answer. Draco continued to leave marks along her collarbones and drove into her deeper but slowly. She cursed in his ear, and he laughed a little.

“Don’t worry; I’ll make you come.”

“At this rate, you aren’t –” And then she felt her body spasmed around him. She screamed, and he wolfed it down. When his lips finally left hers, Hermione was gasping for air.

His fingers lightly traced down her body. Draco rubbed her collarbone, palmed her breasts and continued down. He stroked her bare ribs and seized her thighs.

“What are you doing, measuring?”

“You’ve lost weight.”

She did. Hermione turned her head away to avoid answering.

“Granger, I thought you wanted to win this War.”

“I do.”

“Then you should do something about your diet to witness the victory.”

Hermione sneered. “You don’t look that healthy either, Malfoy. Don’t seem like the right person to give out that kind of advice.”

He shrugged. “I am not as eager as you, I guess.”

“You don’t want to win?”

“My goal was never winning, Granger.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say. She looked up at him blankly for a while before speaking involuntarily.

“What do you want, then?”

“I don’t know.” His grey eyes seemed to be wondering in emptiness. “I wanted my family to be safe. I don’t have a family anymore.”

“Your mother…”

“She died soon after my father’s death. She couldn’t take it.”

Hermione didn’t know. She suddenly realised that they were still connected and tried to wiggle herself out. Draco grabbed her and pressed him against her.

“Stay.”

“I – I killed both of your parents.” Hermione started to sob. “You shouldn’t be here with me.”

“Yes, you killed them. You own me.” Draco breathed out, “So stay.”

She sank into his chest. His heartbeat was tearing her apart. Her love was wrong in so many ways; He served the Dark Lord, and she killed his parents. But her heart still craved him with such vigorous intensity that she couldn’t ignore nor deny it. It was there. Her love was so – there.

Hermione stretched out and grabbed her wand. Draco’s eyes followed her every move. When she reached out for his earring, he caught her wrist.

“What are you doing?”

“Adding a new charm.”

“What kind of charm?”

“I want to know that you’re alive, and you are well. I am going to charm the pendant so that it changes colours depending on your status.”

“No.”

“No?” Hermione raised one eyebrow, not even attempting to hide her irritation. The tears were still running down her cheek. Draco stared at them for a moment but quickly changed his expression to a sneer.

“Why do you want to know my well-being, Granger? How is that information useful to you?”

“I am sick and tired of worrying each time you are missing, or you ignore my calls.” She tried to resist the urge to just cry in his arms while arguing. It was just too stressful. Everything was so overwhelming that she didn’t have space for Draco’s refusal or his scoffs. Her heart needed to know if he was alright. She couldn’t continue to lose herself in the thought that Draco might have died – she couldn’t survive it. “I need to know.”

She locked eyes with him and saw his grey eyes losing their determination. He signed and let her wrist go.

“Make it mutual.”

“What?”

“If you get to spy on me, I get to know the same information from you.”

“This isn’t – I’m not –”

“Do you know that in the Muggle world, the health of a president is classified information?” He chuckled a bit. “Well, the state of a general in a war can’t be so different in importance, no?”

He was right. Hermione’s face paled while realising how much the information could be misused – no, used by the Order. Her hands trembled, and Draco gripped it as if to comfort her.

“Do it. I guess you have the right to know; If I am dead, you would need to find an alternative.”

“I won’t,” she choked in the mid-sentence. “I won’t share it with anybody else.”

“I know.” He pulled her even closer, even though it wasn’t possible. “I won’t either.”

Hermione whispered the charm on the earring and taught him the spell so that he could cast it on her necklace. Draco examined the necklace for a while and asked. “How does the colour change?”

“When we are safe, it will be silver. If we are hurt, it’ll turn blue. The darker the colour, the severe the wound is. And if we die – it’s going to turn black.”

He nodded and pulled her head towards his chest. She buried her face on his shoulder.

“Sleep now, Granger. All that crying must be tiring.”

She wanted to protest that she didn’t cry, it was more like a sniff, but she was too exhausted to argue. Hermione let herself drift away, and soon her conscious shutoff.

The following day, Hermione found herself intertwined with Draco. It wasn’t a surprise. Usually, it was her legs around his waist and thighs while his arms hugged her in an almost possessive way. She stirred, and instantly Draco’s eyes opened.

“I should go.”

“Eat beforehand. Let me order the room service.”

“No,” Hermione shook her head. “I should go back before anybody realises that I am gone.”

She slipped out of bed, reaching for her clothes when Draco stopped her.

“Granger,”

“Yes?”

“What are you going to do if I bring Nagini to you?”

She froze. “I don’t – I’ll probably kill it, considering the snake is dear to You-Know-Who.” She spun around. “Why do you ask?”

“You said Nagini in your sleep.” His eyes were sifting through her. “And Potter.”

Hermione desperately maintained her poker face. “I might have had a nightmare about Nagini killing Harry. Nonsense, of course.”

“You are afraid that Nagini will kill Potter, not the Dark Lord?”

He raised his eyebrow. Hermione nervously nodded. “It’s just a dream. Of course it doesn’t seem…rational.”

“If I let you kill the snake,” his voice was low and cautious. Hermione found herself shaking her head already. “What would you do for me?”

“You will-,” her voice shook frantically. She couldn’t categorise what kind of emotion was driving her crazy at the moment. Was it rage? Terror? “You will do no such thing. You will do no such thing, Malfoy.”

“Why not? You seemed…desperate.”

“I have no idea why you are offering, anyway. You-Know-Who will never forgive you for this. Why are you suggesting something that would get you killed most definitely?”

He didn’t answer. Draco just looked at her with his grey eyes. Hermione scrambled back to the bed and gripped his shoulders. “Don’t. Don’t do this. Promise me you won’t. This – this relationship is only working because we kept the War out of this room. Please don’t ruin this, Draco. Don’t ruin this by killing yourself.”

He spoke after a horrifying silence. “You just called me Draco.”

Hermione let out a hysterical laugh. “That’s what’s important to you now?”

“I won’t do what you don’t want me to do,” Draco promised as he picked up Hermione’s hand from his shoulders and held them tight. She squeezed them back anxiously. “I won’t.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

The situation was getting worse and worse. The only thing that kept Hermione sane was the silverness of her pendant. At least Draco was safe, she whispered to herself. At least he was safe. Then she realised that her loss signified Draco’s safety, and it drove her crazy once more. She completely lost control over herself but struggled to maintain her commander persona. She could go insane, but they still had to win the War.

One day she couldn’t hold it together anymore. She apparated to 12 Grimmauld Place, ignored everyone calling her and went straight up to the top floor. She locked the door with some charms and faced the drawing in front of her.

It was the portrait of Dumbledore. Something she received along with The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Unlike any other pictures, this Dumbledore would not speak. He barely moved. Hermione used to stare at the drawing for hours, wishing for answers, but Dumbledore would only look down at her with sad eyes. Harry urged her to stop looking. He argued that Dumbledore wouldn’t tell her anything – he was never the no-secrets-type. Eventually, Hermione agreed and decided to place the portrait in 12 Grimmauld Place. However, every time there was a process in Horcrux hunting, she would come here and report them. Like when Hermione managed to open the snitch that Harry received and destroyed the ring. She didn’t know why; she just felt obliged to do so even if Dumbledore didn’t respond at all. Once she got used to the unresponsiveness, Hermione sometimes came here to cry. Before Draco, the portrait’s faint presence was her only comfort.

With Draco and the halt in Horcrux hunting, Hermione rarely visited here nowadays. She looked at Dumbledore and started to talk.

“I feel so lost, professor.”

He didn’t answer. She didn’t expect him to.

“I don’t know how I can end this War. With You-Know-Who immortal –” She broke into a sob. She sank to the floor and cried uncontrollably. She could feel Dumbledore’s eyes looking down at her, but she didn’t dare to face it. Hermione just went on, weeping.

“Harry went to find the last Horcrux, but he has been missing for almost three months. I am not sure if we could ever find it. He says that this is the last - he is so confident that there are seven. But we’ve been leading to nowhere for almost three years. And now, these days….I am afraid that we will find the last Horcrux. That we will win the War. I don’t know what to do. If I, if we win….”

Hermione refused to solidify her thoughts. She didn’t think she’ll be able to survive it. She crawled up and grabbed the frame of the portrait.

“Can you tell me? Where is the last Horcrux? Can’t you tell me what it is? I want the end to at least come quickly. I want it fast. I can’t bear this anymore. I want to finish this myself, under my control. That way I could, I could –”

End me. Something inside her whispered. Because she won’t be able to breathe for another second after knowing that he died.

Dumbledore’s blue eyes shimmered in grief. He glanced at her as if he was looking at a lost lamb, like witnessing an innocent child walking towards doom.

The portrait opened his mouth. He never spoke before.

“You were too smart, my dear Hermione. Your intelligence was beyond my imagination.”

She had no idea what he meant.

"Hermione!" Cho came running, and the papers she was holding flapped frantically in the air. "You were right! You were RIGHT!"

"Gosh, Cho." Hermione grabbed Cho by her arms. "What happened? I was right about what?"

"The MACUSA!" Cho practically screamed. "Apparently, after the Civil War, the MACUSA agreed on a treaty with the American Muggle government that they will never expose themselves to the muggles; if the treaty is broken, it means another war for them with the muggle government. After hearing about You-Know-Who's precise plans, they took it seriously because of the agreement and promised to send their forces! The MACUSA supports us now!"

Hermione couldn't help the tears running down her cheek. It would give them a real chance to sweep away Voldemort's armies. It could be the turning point of this War. They could win. She hugged Cho with so much strength that she choked.

"You did it, Cho. You did it! You saved us all!"

"No, you did." Cho grinned. "Now come on, the Head of Foreign Affairs wants to talk to you personally about the specifics. I arranged a conference with her at 8 pm today - "

Then it struck her. The reality that she had been trying so hard to avoid. Winning the War would mean all Death Eaters will be eliminated. It would be the end of everyone on Lord Voldemort’s side.

It would mean the end of Draco Malfoy.

She killed his parents. His relatives and his friends. Much like him, Hermione managed to hurt or get rid of everyone he cared for.

Now, despite her emotions, she managed to bring his death.

She has always been doing that. Hermione worked every second to win this war, and therefore kill him. This was not new. Yet, the intervention of MACUSA felt final. Like she had just sentenced him to death in court by banging the gravel three times.

“Hermione?” Cho held her shoulders lightly. “Hermione, are you alright?”

“I’m –” She started but couldn’t finish her sentence. It was too much. Just too much.

Hermione felt the ground swaying. Her sight blacked out.

A moment later, she jerked awake. She saw the celling and recognised that she was in the hospital wards. She tried sitting up, and someone stopped her.

“Lie down, Hermione. You need more rest. Your body was under too much stress that you’ve lost conscious.”

“Harry?” She looked at him, dazed and confused. “Harry, how are you here?”

“Ron’s here too. He was here a while ago, but Ginny wanted to talk to him.” Harry shrugged, then managed to make a fatherly face. “Hermione, the Healer said that you lack sleep and nutrition. You lost too much weight. You need to start taking care of yourself.”

Hermione laughed a little. The presence of Harry eased her a bit. “Someone already told me that.”

“Who?”

Hermione shut her mouth. She looked away, and Harry seemed to get the message. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Well, I’m relieved that someone is caring for you.”

Hermione winced at the comment. She remembered the shock before she lost her conscious – MACUSA, Draco.

Oh gods, Draco….Hermione couldn’t stop herself. She started to sob quietly. Harry signed and hugged her.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m really sorry. I should be responsible for this War, and yet you carried the burden. I decided that at least I should kill You-Know-Who, and now...well, I’m not doing great at that either. You’re suffering longer because I continue to fail. I’m so sorry.”

“That’s not –” Despite her despair, Hermione felt ridiculous at his words and proceeded to hit him in his chest. “That’s stupid, Harry. You are not responsible for my stress. I am.” She chock back a sob. “I did this to myself.”

Out of all the boys in the world, she had to fell in love with a segregationist, Death Eater, and a murderer. Fuck her taste in men. She had no one but herself to blame.

Hermione hugged Harry a little tighter, looking for comfort. Harry returned it. Hermione wondered what Harry would say if he knew that she had fallen for Draco Malfoy. That she had been shagging him all this time.

He’ll probably look at her like she betrayed him. Like she was mad. Let alone being a friend; he’ll never talk to her. He would never hug her like this.

The thought made her even more miserable. She started crying all over again, and Harry tried calming her by patting her back. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything.

Finally, Hermione managed to stop weeping. After a few more sobs, she broke apart from Harry’s arms. He looked at her with worries in his eyes.

“Alright now?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry…for being such a mess.”

“You’re never a mess,” Harry answered. “But you need to take care of yourself more, ok? You’re practically my sister. I don’t want to see you pale and thin like this.”

“I look like a corpse, don’t I?”

Harry winced at the self-deprecating comment. “No, but I really want you to eat. I’ve been living in a tent for three months, and I look better than you.”

“Did you –” Hermione didn’t finish the question, instantly regretting the fact that she spoke. She didn’t want to burden him. However, Harry knew what she was asking. He shook his head sadly.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. Ron was so against us searching for the snake, so we changed our direction and looked for the last Horcrux. We got to nowhere. I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I know you tried your best. Besides, we are searching for this without knowing where it might be or how it might look. Dumbledore –” Hermione spat out bitterly. “Expected impossible from us.”

“We came back because, well, I remembered that Dumbledore left you a portrait. I wondered if he could give us some answers. Additionally, we were being…chased.” Hermione’s face instantly tensed, and Harry patted her hand to relax her. “We didn’t actually encounter the chaser. But I noticed we were being followed, and…I didn’t think it would be safe if You-Know-Who found out we were looking for his Horcruxes. So, we returned before it was too dangerous.”

“You did the right thing, Harry. If we lost you –” Hermione shuddered at the thought. “I don’t want to imagine what would have happened.”

“I won’t die that easily,” Harry promised. Hermione offered a weak smile.

“And the portrait…you know that he doesn’t talk.”

“I know.” Harry nodded. “But I was hoping that we could try once more.”

“I actually visited it days ago. I was trying to, well…calm myself a bit, but ended up crying in front of him. I asked for answers, and Dumbledore spoke for the first time.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that I was too smart.”

Harry looked puzzled. Hermione shook her head. “I had no idea what he meant. Do you remember something wrong happened because I was too smart?”

“I doubt it. Your intelligence kept me alive since first grade.”

Hermione smiled. “Oh, the protection spells for the Philosopher's Stone were so easy, thinking back.”

“We were first grades,” Harry argued, but he was also smiling. “It was terrifying for 11-year-olds.”

“I was twelve.”

“Whatever.”

They both started to laugh when Ron came in. When he saw that Hermione was awake, he rushed to hug her.

“Bloody hell, Hermione! You are smart enough to know that you need to eat before losing conscious.” He grumbled as he let her go. Hermione shrugged.

“I forgot.”

“That’s not an excuse!”

Then he glanced down, his voice guilty. “And um, I shouldn’t have shouted at you three months ago. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. I was harsh, too.”

“Gee, if I knew how much you were pushing yourself…” Ron shook his head in disapproval. “I’m really sorry.”

“I’m just glad that both of you are back.” Hermione felt her shoulders were light for the first time in many years. She forgot how much she enjoyed her friends’ company, how much they made her happy. Then she remembered Draco, and her heart started to ache again.

Only if she could save both her friends and Draco……

“Hermione?” Harry called her, a bit anxious. “You alright? Do you want to rest now?”

“No, it’s fine.” She proceeded to leave the bed. “I don’t think it’ll be good for my mental health if I lie down here doing nothing. Then I’ll lose myself in my nightmares.”

Her two friends didn’t look happy, but they knew what kind of brain she had under her skull and how it never stopped thinking. Ron grumbled, “Your brain is workaholic.”

“I won’t deny that.”

Ron signed. “You, at least, need to eat. Harry, I’ll be in the kitchen preparing some food. You make sure she comes to the kitchen.”

The seriousness in Ron’s voice made Hermione laugh, but Harry nodded with equal gravitas. As soon as Ron left, Harry helped her stand up. She felt a little dizzy, and her leg swayed, but Harry caught her.

“Lean on me. I don’t trust you can walk right now.”

“I can. I was just a bit dizzy when I stood up. It’s called orthostatic hypotension.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I have no idea what that is, but since I never saw you dizzy because you stood up, I don’t believe you.”

Hermione could have argued more, but she decided against it. Her increased social skills told her when to stop to avoid being the ‘insufferable know-it-all’.

Just before they entered the Kitchen, Hermione stopped. Harry looked down at her, confused. Hermione gripped his arm, then slowly let it go. They were standing face to face in the dark corridor.

“Harry…” Hermione hesitated, but she couldn’t resist it. “If I did something utterly wrong, something contemptible…would you forgive me…just once?”

She could feel Harry scrutinising her. His green eyes were almost black due to the darkness surrounding them.

“Hermione,” he started slowly. “You gave up everything for me. Your future. Your parents. You sometimes look like you want to walk out of here so badly. I grew up with muggles. I know how easy it would be for you to leave and hid among them, being muggle-born. But you never did so. You carried the full burden of this War on your shoulders instead of me. I own you my life. So…yeah.” Harry took a deep breath. “I think I could forgive my sister for doing some wrongdoing, let alone one.”

Hermione blinked, struggling to force back her tears. She felt extremely relieved and guilty at the same time.

He said that he’d forgive her for whatever. Her head seemed to clear up a bit. Hermione continued to gather herself and forced herself to focus. Simplify things. Create explicit goals.

She was going to win this War. She was going to drag in MACUSA in this War, help Harry defeat Voldemort, and win this War. At the same time, she was going to keep Draco alive. She was going to accomplish both tasks – or die trying.

Hermione figured that it would be worth her death.

After trying to eat what Ron made her – he made her some chicken soup, and for his credit, the food was terrific, but her stomach couldn’t take as much as he wanted her to – Hermione searched for Cho. She remembered her saying that the meeting with MACUSA was at 8 pm, and it was still 6. She wanted to get prepared, well, as much as she could do in 2 hours. However, Harry shook his head.

“You need a good rest, Hermione.”

“Harry, a closed-door negotiation like this – especially when we are the ones in disadvantaged – we don’t get to cancel them.”

“You can’t faint again.”

“I promise I won’t lose my conscious during the conference.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Harry scowled, and Ron nodded supportively – obviously on Harry’s side.

Hermione glanced at Cho for support. She has been standing by the kitchen door and was smart enough to let the trio do their stuff. But when she caught Hermione’s eyes, she stepped forward and began talking.

“The MACUSA isn’t completely supportive – yet. They requested Hermione specifically, so I guess they know that she’s in charge. If Hermione doesn’t show up…I don’t want to burden you, Hermione, but I don’t think the meeting with go well.”

“See?” Hermione tried smiling. “I’m necessary. Cho, should we go to your office to talk?”

Cho nodded, and Hermione stood up, picking up her dishes. Ron stopped her. “I’ll do the dishes. You go work, workaholic.”

“Thanks, Ron.”

She handed over her dishes and left the kitchen, Cho walking closely behind her. They spend the next hour and a half discussing various scenarios, and when there were 30 minutes left, Hermione bolted to her room and started to dress up. When she rushed downstairs again, surprisingly, Ron was standing next to Cho.

“I’m going to go with you,” Ron announced. “Harry wanted to go, but Cho said that it would be too dangerous because he’s the Chosen one and all that. They compromised that I was a relatively safe choice to escort you.”

Hermione glanced at Cho, and she nodded firmly. There was no time to argue, anyway. Hermione smiled and took Ron’s arm.

“Well, I could use some support.”

“You have all of mine.”

It made them chuckle a little. Cho brought out the portkey.

“It’s going to lead us to a hotel in Switzerland. The country has always been traditionally neutral, so I figured it would be the safest.”

“Great choice, Cho.”

Together, they held the portkey. When the clock ticked exactly 7:58, the portkey rattled and as soon as Hermione closed and opened her eyes, she found herself in…a hotel bathroom stall.

“Bloody hell!” Ron yelped. “Did we have to apparate right into the toilet?”

Hermione noticed that Ron was standing inside the toilet. “Gosh,” She quickly opened the door and walked out, trying to make space for Ron to step out. Cho followed her, looking apologetic.

“Sorry, it was initially designed for two people and…this is a muggle hotel.”

“Wait, are we inside the girls’ lavatory now?” Ron gulped, looking both frustrated and embarrassed. Cho winced. “It was for Hermione and me. We couldn’t have set it in the boys’ lavatory.”

Ron grunted and stepped out. Hermione cast a Scourgify and a drying charm for him. Ron gestured thanks.

“But I’m still going to wash these trousers when we go home.”

They carefully stepped out of the loo, and luckily the muggles were far too focused on their own business – mostly their smartphone – to notice a man walking out of the women lavatory. Hermione expected that she would have to talk to the front desk, being the only muggle-born, but Cho handled the task just fine. She got her key and gestured them to the elevator.

“Cho, you are great with those muggles.” Ron praised. Cho shrugged.

“My mother had muggle cousins. I used to hang out with them in the summer, and they taught me all kinds of stuff. Including how to book a room in the hotel.”

They took the elevator and entered a room that was clearly a presidential suit. Hermione stepped in first and was amazed to find a black woman sitting on the sofa. Cho gasped and quickly bowed.

“Madam Minister. A pleasure to meet you.”

“British.” The minister stood up. “Always excessively polite. Why can’t we just shake hands?” She offered a hand to Hermione, and she quickly shook it.

“I’m Marcella Garcia. Lovely to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Hermione Granger.”

“Ah, yes. I anticipated meeting you. I always prefer strong women. Shall we sit?”

Marcella Garcia was a tall woman, and confidence dripped off her each time she moved. Hermione noticed that she was charismatic, powerful, and general-like. A born commander. Hermione sat on the opposite sofa, and Ron and Cho stood behind her, much like Madam Minister’s entourages. She felt a little uncomfortable. Hermione wasn’t used to standing in the exact middle of the attention. Being Harry Potter’s best friend, of course, called for some spotlight, but she was never the main protagonist – that was always Harry. The Chosen One. But now, Marcella Garcia was treating Hermione as her counterpart, the leader of the Order.

“I hope that these people you brought are people that you intend to share your deepest secrets.” Marcella started. “Because we have received some news urgent enough to bring me here, not my Head of Foreign Affairs.”

Urgent news? Hermione thought about it. Ron, she could trust with all her secrets related to the Order, but Cho…

Cho is an essential member of the Order. Hermione told herself. She can and should know everything.

Even about the Horcrux? Something inside her asked, and Hermione made a visible sign of hesitation. Would that be safe for Cho?

But if that is the news that the Americans heard, then Cho would have to know too. Or else, she’ll wonder why things didn’t work out. Hermione gave a firm nod.

“They are my people.”

“Great.” Madam Minster signalled to one of her entourages, and a woman stepped out and held out her wand.

“Speculum monimentum.”

A mist emerged from the tips of her wand, and soon it re-created an image and began to play. Only a moment later, she realised the figure wrapped by a snake was Voldemort.

“What is he drinking?” Cho asked from behind, terrified. The woman who cast the magic answered. “Unicorn blood.”

“According to our sources,” Madam Minister waved away the image. “Your Lord Vol –”

“Don’t speak the name!” Ron yelled out. “There is a tracking charm on it.”

Madam Minister raised one of her eyebrows. “Then they must know we are here. Someone must have said the name once or twice.”

Hermione immediately grabbed her wand. Cho swallowed, wand in one hand and a portkey in other, and stepped up. “Switzerland has a ward around its borders to eliminate any tracking charm. It’s why I chose this place. But they will still know that we are in Switzerland. Let’s finish this quickly and leave.”

Marcella raised one hand, and all of her entourages started to move around, apparently packing. She continued.

“My sources tell me that You-Know-Who should have died already. His body is decaying. But he is still alive, which is why I began to believe that he is indeed immortal like his propagandas suggests. How do you plan to win someone who cannot be killed?”

“He is not completely immortal. He made Horcruxes. We are working to eliminate them.”

The confidence drained out of the Minister’s face. “Horcruxes. How many?”

“Seven.”

“How many left?”

“Less than you imagine.”

“You are fighting a monster then, Commander. Seven Horcruxes. Then the man is no longer a man.”

“I agree, ma’am.”

“And if a man created seven Horcruxes, then I have a reason to believe that he will conquer all of Europe and reach for America.”

“Before he even considers America, Magic will be exposed to the whole world.”

“I will send the forces.” Minister declared. “But only if you eliminate all of the Horcruxes.”

“Madam Minister!” Cho stepped in. “We have Italians attacking our forts at this very moment. We – ”

“And I cannot waste my soldiers in an impossible mission.” Marcella snapped. “There is no point fighting against a god. If he wins, then I need my forces to be whole to resist against the muggle government…and You-Know-Who himself, if he can cross the Atlantic. But I will send supports, enough to buy you time until the Order finds all of the Horcruxes.”

Hermione eagerly agreed. Support will help them survive for now. But then again, the conference created another reason to search the Horcruxes.

ㅡ If I let you kill the snake...What would you do for me?

Bang! A colossal vibration of magic rang the hotel. Marcella and Hermione exchanged glances. Ron grabbed her, and Cho held out her portkey.

“Until next time, Commander Granger.” Marcella reached out for her hand. Hermione took it. “I do hope you win.”

“I will.”

“Hermione, now!”

Hermione reached for the portkey at Cho’s urge, but it was too late. The door burst open, and the Death Eaters in their black cloaks and masks entered the suit. Hermione immediately held out her wand for a curse, but at the last moment, she hesitated.

What if one of them was Draco?

She frantically searched for the greyness until a green light flew in. Almost automatically, Hermione dropped down and rolled away. She raised her wand and yelled, “Stupefy!”

All kind of coloured spells were cast – red, green, and so much more. A sofa nearby exploded, and Hermione felt the wooden pieces nailing into her arm. She stood up and searched for Cho. They had to get out. They were helplessly outnumbered. Hermione faced another black mask, saw its blue eyes, and flickered her wand for another Diffindo towards its chest. She was still searching – for Cho? Or for her grey?

Luckily, Cho was still with Ron, nearby the window. She cast an explosion curse to make all the tables and sofas nearby burst into pieces of wood and fabric. It created a distraction and enough time for Hermione to run towards them. Ron noticed what Hermione was doing and added another Bombarda at the windows, and the glasses flew everywhere.

“Hermione!”

Another inch. Hermione reached out as much as she could and touched the portkey. The scenery immediately blurred, and all of a sudden, they were thrown into a forest near their safehouse.

Hermione groaned and tried to sit up. Her arm hurt so much.

“Hermione, what were you thinking! Why did you hesitate?!”

Ron grabbed her by the shoulders and yelled. Her body swung according to his shaking. Hermione had to throw him away.

“I didn’t – I didn’t hesitate!”

“I saw you! You didn’t cast your magic at the last second!”

“Ron!” Cho screamed. “Hermione! Stop it, you two! Can’t you see Hermione’s hurt?”

Ron’s gaze dropped, and Hermione also twisted her arm to see what exactly happened. It was a mess. There were hints of white among the overflowing red – Merlin, was that her bone?

“We have to move Hermione to the hospital wards right now.” Cho gritted out the last words. “I’ll let you guys fight after that.”

She was right. Although the Death Eaters never found this forest, it was still outside the wards. Hermione tried standing up, and Ron quickly reached out to help her, then yelped.

“Blimey, Hermione! What’s burning on your chest?”

“My….my necklace.” Hermione fumbled around her clavicle then stumbled in a daze. Cho hurriedly stepped up to help her and urged Ron to move.

“She’s losing too much blood, Ron. Let’s get going!”

“Right, right.” Ron held Hermione’s right, and Cho grabbed the other. Together, they apparated right in front of the safehouse’s ward. As soon as the three of them entered the house, they faced Harry.

“Hey, you guys are – Hermione!” He rushed towards them and cursed at the sight of Hermione’s arm. Immediately Harry turned around and called for a Healer.

Everything was hazy. It was just loud and confusing. Hermione found herself sitting somewhere, something grabbing her arm and – the heat.

Her necklace. She tried to reach for it, but someone stopped her. It was frustrating. She tried to shake it off, but it didn’t work. She yelled. She wanted her necklace. It was important. It was essential. It was hers to keep, hers to protect.

Suddenly someone took her left hand and led it towards her chest. Hermione finally seized her pendant. Without realising, she relaxed her shoulders and let out a sign. It felt safe. From habit, she took the necklace to her ears.

No sound. She felt a wave of disappointment. If he wasn’t going to talk, why call her?

Someone gripped her left arm and put it down. Hermione let it happen. The pendant left her hand in the process, and soon she was pushed to lie down.

Then she woke up. Surprised by the brightness, she shot up and found Harry sitting next to her. He was holding a book.

“Are you reading, Harry?”

“Gee, that’s your first words? Are you reading, Harry?”

“You don’t usually read.”

“I know how to.” Harry yawned and rubbed his eyes. “But you’re right. Reading isn’t my thing.” Then he set the book down.

Hermione checked her arm. It was wrapped around a white bandage and still hurt, but she could move it. Harry let her examine first and said: “Your arm is going to be alright. Fortunately, it seems like a dark curse didn't directly hit you. But you lost a lot of blood, so you need to rest.”

“Yes, it was the sofa that exploded. Thanks, Harry.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Harry signed.

The self-deprecation and the sense of defeat were apparent on Harry’s face. Hermione’s heart ached. She reached out for his hand.

“Harry, you are here – that’s all I need. You don’t know how much support I feel when I wake up, and you’re by my side. It really makes me –” breathe? No, Harry no longer made her breathe. Something else. “ – lively.”

“Thanks, Hermione.” Harry offered a weak smile. “Ron and I, we are leaving soon. Ron said that finding Horcruxes became more important after the meeting with Americans.”

“It did.” Hermione dropped her head in guilt. “Sorry, Harry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Hermione. Finding Horcruxes is my job.” Harry stretched out his pinkie. Hermione let out a small laugh, immediately recognising the sign.

“Merlin, Harry. A Pinkie Promise?”

“C’mon, Hermione. You are one of the rare people who knows what this means.” He winked in a fashion that reminded Hermione about Sirius.

Hermione intertwined her pinkie with Harry’s. “What are you going to promise me?”

“I promise,” Harry intentionally made a serious face, “that I will find all of the Horcruxes this time. And I am not going to return until I accomplish my mission.”

All of them. Hermione could barely suppress herself from trembling in fear at Harry’s announcement. All of them, meaning that he would have to hunt for Nagini, which is kept near and dear to Lord Voldemort….

Could she really put Harry in such danger, where there was another, much easier way for the Order?

She locked eyes with Harry. Hermione could almost see a balance scale – green on one pan and grey on another. Before, the green would have always won by a wide margin. Now she witnessed the grey slowly descending, almost to the same height as the green.

Almost.

“Harry..” Hermione’s voice broke. “Harry, just – don’t look for Nagini, just yet.”

“Why?”

Hermione couldn’t tell him about Malfoy. She bit her lips, trying to find the logic behind her request.

“It’s too reckless to risk your life to find Nagini while we aren’t sure where the last Horcrux is. Since Nagini is the most dangerous target, it is wise to search for the last one first. That way, killing Nagini will ensure You-Know-Who’s mortality and therefore worthy enough to risk someone’s life.”

Harry slowly nodded at Hermione’s rationale. “You’re right, Hermione. We’ll start from where we left last time, then.”

He stood up to leave. Before Harry disappeared from Hermione’s sight, he turned back.

“Oh, and your necklace….it kept burning. Is it supposed to be that warm all the time?”

The pendant? Oh Merlin, did Harry hear something? Hermione poured all of her strength to keep a straight voice.

“The pendant response to my health state.” Hermione managed to say. “Since I was hurt, well…”

“Oh.” Harry seemed a little confused. “Um, is that useful at all? I mean, you should know if you are hurt, right?”

“Yes, it’s one of my experiments.” Hermione fumbled through her brain to finish her lie. “I tried making one to give it to you and Ron, so I know if you’re safe or not…but I failed. I couldn’t make one pendant sense your well-being while the other one response to it. I gave up soon afterwards.”

“It’s not like you, giving up. I think it is a great idea.”

“I had other things to focus on.”

Harry’s face failed. “I guess you are right.”

“But I can work on it later. I believe it’s going to be a popular couple item.”

The confidence, along with hopeful talks about post-war, made Harry laugh. He turned to leave but came back once more.

“Um, one more question. If that pendent just burns, why did you try hearing from it?”

That, Hermione already prepared an excuse for. She pulled out her pendant, which was a round shape with a small gap in the middle. She shook it. Harry made a puzzled face, clearly not able to hear anything. Hermione grinned. “It’s actually a bell. The sound is tiny, just enough to hear it if you put it very close to your ears. I found out that the ringing makes me relax a bit.”

It wasn’t a bell. Nothing was in the pendant to make any sound. But people are so easily fooled by their vision, which is what Hermione aimed for while designing the pendant. As she expected, Harry’s face cleared with understanding.

“Oh! Of course. It’s a bell. A burning bell. Well, that’s kind of funny.”

It did sound weird. Hermione searched Harry’s eyes to find any suspicious, but he seemed like he thought that burning bells were a funny idea. She shrugged, trying to make her story more believable.

“It was an experiment. I just used what I had.”

Harry nodded and waved his hand. “I’ll come back soon.”

“Just be safe.”

He gave his wicked grin and left. Hermione found herself in silence, which was unbearable then she remembered. She looked down at her necklace.

Could she ask? How could she possibly ask Draco to bring the snake to her? How? It will kill him. No way that he’ll manage it in secret. It will kill him, and therefore her.

But if it meant that she’d be able to save Harry and win the war –

She took her pendant and channelled her magic. Soon the necklace burned up, and Hermione let the pendant dangle near her ear.

“Malfoy.”

[Granger.] His voice was deep and ragged. [How much were you hurt?]

“Just my arm.”

[It was almost navy.]

“I did lose some blood.”

[It was almost navy, Granger.]

There was something behind his voice that she couldn’t detect. It was too deep, too violent… He sounded like – enraged? Terrified? Desperate?

“I got treated.” That was all she could manage. “I’m healing now.”

[I hope so.] He said something else, but it wasn’t audible. She frowned.

“What?”

[Nothing.] Draco snapped. [Sleep. I want to see the pendant turn back to silver next time.]

“Are you worried?”

[Why do you think I called you, Granger?] She could almost imagine his scoff. [We’ve been sharing a bed long enough to worry about each other.]

But you don’t love me. Like I do. It was bitter, but the fact that he at least worried about her was sweet. She sank into her pillow, feeling her tension flying away. She whispered, “I can’t sleep.”

[You should.]

“I can’t. Without you.”

A silence. Hermione hesitated but added her last words.

“I want you.”

[Damn it, Granger.] He growled, and the vibration transferred from the pendant to her ears and sent a shiver down her spine. [You’re sick, lying on a hospital bed, and you cannot make me want to fuck you.]

“It’s just my arm.” She whimpered. Gosh, she sounded like a 4-year-old child whining. “You can take care of that, right?”

[Now. Hotel. I am going to make you sleep until your arms heal.]

It was like a command. Funny, when Hermione demanded it first. She hopped out of bed after leaving a message to anyone who might wonder where she went. Then Hermione ran outside and apparated. Soon as Draco appeared at her sight, she jumped onto him. He chuckled as he caught her in his arms.

“Goodness, Granger. Watch your arm.”

“I missed you.” Hermione enjoyed his warmth while planting kisses along his jaw. “I missed you so much.”

She realised that after this night, things between Draco would change. After she asked him for something impossible, for something she knew too well that would kill him, nothing will remain the same. She’ll never see him smile again or allow herself to be held in his arms. This was going to be the last.

Then at least she could be honest. At least she could cherish this night and create a memory that she can replay when she ended herself.

Because when the pendant turned black, she was going to follow him. That determination was considered when she weighted the grey and green pans on the balance scale. There was not a world for Hermione where Draco didn’t exist.

Draco seemed to have sensed her desperation and pulled her closer. He gripped her nape first and went up, tangling his hand in her hair. He dragged her head up, and their lips crashed into each other. Hermione tilted her head to deepen the kiss, feeling Draco’s tongue pushing into her. He was thorough and ruthless. Wherever he touched, it felt like a fire burning. Hermione gasped and moaned at the overwhelming sensation. It was just a kiss, and she could feel the shivers dancing down her spine, head to toe.

She reached to strip away his shirt and placed her hand on his thorax to feel the hardness. The sound of rolling buttons fainted away in the background. As if that was a sign, Draco’s hand slipped inside her shirt and stroked her abdomen lightly. Hermione could sense that he was still sober. Controlled. She wanted him to lose it. She wasn’t going to accept slow and sweet sex like last time. Hermione grabbed Draco’s hands and placed them on her breast, forcing him to move through her bra. Draco snarled and panted out. “I’m not going to fuck you today. Not with that arm.”

“I want you to.”

His grey eyes went wild and it gave her goosebumps. He gritted his teeth, trying to maintain his self-restraint. Hermione looked at him with daring eyes and tilted her neck, exposing the juncture of her neck and shoulders. Just where he likes to suck.

She heard him losing it. “You are a complete bitch, Granger.”

Immediately he drove down and nipped her neckline, strong enough to bruise but not breaking the skin. He tried pulling her shirt, noticed her arm and just ripped it off. His lips dragged down, pulling away from the cups and claiming her nipples. She arched towards him, craving for more.

His lips started to slip down, and Hermione could feel herself shaking with anticipation. He sucked her abdomen, leaving red marks in his path. When he reached the middle, his head came up, and Hermione frowned at the irritation visible on his face.

“What?” she snapped. She was definitely going to hex him if Draco was going to stop, whatever the reason. She needed him to inside her right now.

“You’re all skins and bones, Granger. You’re gaunt.”

“Are you telling me that I’m too skinny for your taste, Malfoy?” Hermione spat it out. “Am I not attractive enough by your ‘women-I-will-fuck’ standards?”

“Bollocks, Granger. You know I’ll fuck you whenever I have the chance. I’ll willingly fuck you even if you are missing all of your limbs. If fact, if you didn’t have them….” Draco dragged his fingers around her thighs in a dangerous way that made her shudder. Her survival instincts rang the alarm bell, warning her to run. He could do it. He had the power to do so. “I would enjoy the privilege of taking care of you. I’ll feed you, wash you, and I’ll help you do whatever you want to do. I’ll keep you in my sight every second of the day, so I won’t have to worry about my pendant turning black.”

Without thinking about it, Hermione raised her hand and cupped his face. She locked her eyes with his greyness, and she could almost feel the chains hanging from her wrists, across her neck and stomach, and around her legs. Her love. The metal she managed to lock herself with. Or was it? Was it only her love? Did she wrap them around her torso, alone?

“Do you want to keep me, Draco?”

“I do.” There wasn’t any hesitation. “I want you to be mine.”

“I’ll let you have me.” Her fingers slide down his cheeks to his neck. She caressed his collarbones, and he let out a growl. “Just for tonight. On one condition.”

“One night and a condition. You’re stingy, Granger.”

“It’s not difficult.” Her voice was surprisingly seductive, even to her own ears. “Let me have you, too.”

Draco snatched both of her hands and pushed them down above her head. Hermione found herself completely seized, unable to move. He lowered his head to her neck, and she could feel his lips moving on her carotid. She was almost afraid that his teeth would sink in and break it. “You already have me, Amante.”

His large hands grabbed her core, and Hermione shrieked in both pain and pleasure. There was no halting after that. Draco’s hands and lips move freely on her body, each touch driving her towards the edge. His fingers knew exactly where to touch. They slipped inside her and caressed just the right spots, rubbing and circling. She could feel herself wet, dripping almost, and could imagine the liquid running down his hands to his wrists. But it wasn’t sufficient. She wanted something else. The deepest parts were aching with emptiness –

Suddenly he pulled away, and Hermione cried in desperation, struggling under his hands. Draco planted kisses from her jawline to her check and bit the tiny amount of skin under her eye. Hermione froze.

“So – impatient. You need to learn how to wait.”

“Please…” she whimpered. “Please, I need you in me –”

“Say my name.” Draco tugged at her nipples, and the pleasure felt like piercing. Hermione writhe at the masochist pleasure. “Or else I don’t know who you want to be fucked by, Granger. You need to tell me who you want.”

“Draco,” she panted. “Draco, pleasssee –”

He drove into her so hard that she shrilled as she came. He didn’t seem to care. He kept pushing in and out while her whole body spasmed. Hermione cried out his name like it was the only language she knew, and Draco took away her moaning like he was ravenous. The amount of sensation was impossible. Each thrust was too deep, too hard. At some point, he let her hands go, and she clung to his neck while he ground his body against her. Hermione could no longer tell his body apart from hers. She could hear their heart beating together. That was all she wanted. The weight, the warmth, and their heartbeat. The evidence that they were together at this moment.

The satisfaction was the last push. She screamed as the world shattered. Hermione could feel his grey eyes fixed on her as she came apart under him. He growled, and she felt a spout of warmness.

Hermione never felt so drained out. She rubbed her cheek against his and let her arms go. He caught them and put them around his neck once more.

“Draco,” she whispered. “Draco…”

His body felt like burning. He was still inside her, and Hermione knew that she wouldn’t be able to bare the moment when it would disappear and leave her empty.

But it was her burden to carry. It was the consequence of her choice.

“Do you remember – when you asked me about Nagini? You asked me what I would do for you.”

His body tensed. Harden. Hermione wanted to just break into a sob but held it back. The stillness was torturous. She could vividly sense her heart being ripped apart.

“Do you want it?” Draco asked quietly. She gave a slight nod. His fingers brushed her checks, and only then Hermione realised tears were running down her face.

“Shhh…” he kept brushing her tears away. “It’s alright. I’ll get you what you want. I'll do whatever you want me to do.”

I don’t want you to die. Hermione begged in her mind. I don’t. I want you here with me forever. I want to run away with you and let Britain collapse in fire, so we don’t need to fucking care about the snake, Voldemort or the War.

This was her greatest desire, the one that she kept at the bottom of her abyss and refused to acknowledge. But it swam up to the surface and was shoved in front of her face, so definite and visible that she recognised it each time she breathed. But she couldn’t say them out loud.
She’ll never be able to. After Draco manages to capture Nagini…

Hermione choked back a sob. “What do you want me to do to return the favour?”

“I’ll tell you when I bring back your snake.”

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