30. Catch Up With The Sun

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Not making any money off this. Having a blast though!

Note: Triple scoops of ice cream with sprinkles and hot fudge sauce to my beta, eilonwy! Thanks for everything! And the title of this chapter comes from "Time" by Pink Floyd.

ooo

Chapter 30 – Catch Up With The Sun

Time is funny. Sometimes it does what you want, what you expect. Other times, it laughs at you and rubs salt in your gaping wounds. But only on the rarest of occasions is it kind.

o

Day One

o

Hermione woke late and when she realized why she was in her bed, instead of outside on the porch, her heart clenched painfully and tears threatened to spill over. They'd been gone only a few hours and already panic threatened to grip her. They were gone now, out of her reach.

A clanging sounded from somewhere in the house, and she remembered that Ron and Ginny were there as well; a smile broke through her frown and worry. They were there because Draco hadn't wanted her to be alone. Hermione remembered his promise to come back. She knew he would still give his life for Harry if it came to it, but at least he knew he had a reason to live.

Someone knocked softly on her door. It was Ron; he poked his head around the door, a goofy grin on his face. "Oh good, you're awake. What do you lot do for breakfast around here?"

Hermione smiled, thankful for her friends and for Draco. "I'm coming," she said. Ron nodded and shut the door.

ooo

"So, Hermione."

"Yes, Ginny?"

"What do you do for fun around here?" Ginny was stretched out on the sofa, still in her pajamas – they all were – snuggled under a warm blanket pulled to her chin. Hermione was sitting on the floor beside her.

Hermione smiled. "Fun? Oh, we don't usually hold with that here."

Ginny quirked an eyebrow. "Really. No fun? Not even a little?"

"Well… maybe a little. When Draco isn't around. Why do you think I went to the Burrow so often?"

"That makes sense. I can't imagine you and Harry having much in common with Malfoy," Ginny said. Then she added hastily, "At least in terms of what you consider fun. I would imagine his idea of it would be quite different from yours."

"We're not so different, Ginny. True, as kids we had different ideas of what constituted a good time, but he likes to read, and we've had a number of really good discussions about things. About books, mostly."

"Sounds fascinating," Ginny said, a laugh evident in her tone. Hermione gave her a light shove and Ginny smiled.

Then the smile disappeared and she sat up, drawing the blanket around her. "So… what do you do to keep from going crazy?" she asked seriously.

"Yeah," came Ron's voice. Hermione turned to see him in the doorway levitating three mugs of hot chocolate.

"Oh, Ron, you're wonderful," Hermione said as she took one from him. He handed the third to Ginny and sat down in a chair. She took a few sips and sighed. "They've only just left this morning. There's nothing to worry about."

"Yet," said Ginny. "And how do we know when to start worrying?"

"They said they'd probably be about a month. In the past, I've started worrying three days before their expected return."

"Except this time, they're going against Voldemort," said Ron.

"But not yet. That will be at the end. That will be the end."

Ginny's furrowed her brow and squeezed the blanket tighter.

"Ginny, don't worry. Harry wouldn't want you to be twisted into knots for a whole month. Save your energy."

"So what do we do today?" asked Ron. "And tomorrow? And next week? Are we stuck here?"

"We shouldn't leave," Hermione insisted. "If one of us were captured, it might ruin Draco's plans."

Ron scowled. "Draco's plans. Why about Harry? He can have plans too."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, Ron, of course. Their plans."

"When did you start calling him Draco?" Ginny asked quietly.

"Yeah," chimed Ron. "I'd like to know that too."

"Actually, I don't usually call him that. I call him Malfoy when I speak to him. When Harry and I talk, we use Draco, but Harry's been calling him that for months now. I… am just starting to. It's very slow in coming and it's not easy."

"You've really forgiven him?" Ginny asked.

"Yes. Because he's really sorry."

"How can you believe him, Hermione?" Ron asked with a frown. "I'm sorry, I get that he might have changed, that people change, but still! It's Malfoy!"

"I just do. He's told me, actually, and more than once. He's shown me… He's changed, Ron. Even in the few months since I've been here, he's changed. My parents were the last people he killed. Something changed in him that night. I don't know what, but he was supposed to kill me too and he didn't. He didn't, okay?" She was fighting back tears, but she didn't care. She needed them to believe her, to trust her about him. She knew with all her heart she would need them to trust in Draco before the end.

"Don't cry, Hermione," said Ginny kindly, wrapping her arms around Hermione's neck. "Just give us some time. As you fill us in on the past six months, we'll start to understand, okay? Will you do that?"

Hermione nodded, blinking her tears away.

"So… you've got films, I heard?" said Ron.

"Yes," said Hermione. "Girl rubbish, as Harry calls it, and boy films where the main characters have extraordinary powers and always get the hot girls."

Ron rubbed his hands together. "Well, let's get started them. How long will it take to get through them all?"

"Maybe three days."

Ginny nodded. "Three days. Well, it's three days. Let's get started, then."

o

Day Three

o

"Potter."

"What?"

"Stop fidgeting."

"Sorry."

Draco nodded and returned to staring out the window as the train sped through the countryside.

"Draco?"

"What?"

"Do you think they'll be all right?"

Draco sighed. "Yes."

"I'm worried Hermione will do something…rash."

"She won't," Draco replied quietly. He tried to shove out of his mind the image of the last time he saw her, eyes nearly bursting with tears, her brilliant but hopeless hair spread beneath her head as he kissed her wrist. He shook the image away. "Besides, as a rule, she isn't a rash person."

"Yeah, I know."

Neither of them spoke, and soon after Draco stretched out on the seat and closed his eyes.

"Potter," he said after a few minutes, his eyes still shut.

"Yeah?"

"How's Ginny?"

"She's fine, actually. Thank you for asking."

"Are you at all concerned she'll do something rash?"

"No, not at all. We – we talked. Pretty much all night. And, well, you know. She's got other things to think about."

"True. What about Weasley?"

"He won't leave Hermione." Draco didn't open his eyes, didn't make a single noise whatsoever, but Harry saw his jaw tighten and his nostrils flare for an instant. "Remember what I told you?" Harry asked.

He smirked. "You've told me a lot of things, Harry. You'll have to be more specific."

"We're like brothers to her. He doesn't want her hurt any more than you do."

Draco clenched his jaw a few more times before opening his eyes to look at Harry. "Oh, that's right. I do remember this conversation."

"Yes," said Harry, grinning. "We've had it a few times, as I recall, haven't we?"

"And it's always the same. I'm going to sleep now."

"When is it going to be different?"

Draco didn't answer right away. Then, "Not today."

o

Day Seven

o

"I've got an idea!" exclaimed Ginny.

"What?" said Ron, popping a few peanuts and sounding not at all excited. "Go through the films a third time?"

"No," she said, pushing him playfully.

"What's your idea, Ginny?" Hermione asked.

They were again in the sitting room, all in pajamas, all on the sofa with blankets piled around them. It almost looked as though they hadn't moved in seven days.

"Let's go through Malfoy's room!"

That perked Ron up instantly. "Excellent!" He started to stand up, but Hermione grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down. "Hey!"

"We're not going through his room!" Hermione said. "That – that's rude, and it's his own personal space."

"Come on, Hermione. Aren't you at all interested in what he's got in there?" Ginny asked, trying to sound convincing.

"I've had plenty of opportunities to sneak around in his room, and I never have. Besides, knowing him, there are wards all over the place."

Both Ginny and Ron stared at her, and Ginny said, "Knowing him. I'm still getting used to that idea."

"I know. I'm glad you're trying," she said, and then looked pointedly at Ron.

"Hey!" he said, throwing his hands up in defense. "I haven't said anything…in…what, two hours?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's a personal best, you know," Ron said huffily.

"Come on, just one peek through his dresser," pleaded Ginny.

"No!"

"His books?"

"No! I'm serious, you two. Go look through my room, if you must."

Ginny and Ron looked at each other for a moment before jumping off the sofa and racing to the stairs. Ginny beat Ron and shoved him away.

"Hey!" he called after her before charging up the stairs after her.

Hermione shook her head and picked up her book. After a moment, however, she heard a squeal.

"Hermione! Your room! Now!" came Ginny's subsequent command.

When she arrived in her doorway, she saw that Ginny had spread a few of her robes from Draco on the bed. Ron was poking through her books and, to her annoyance, her letters.

"What, Ginny?"

"Where did these come from?" she asked, not looking up from her intense examination of the robes. "I mean, I know where they came from – Welton and James – but how did you get them?"

"You've heard of Welton and James?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Um…yes. They're only the most sought-after purveyor of wizarding wear in all of England."

"I… uhm, oh. Well, I hadn't heard of them."

"You're avoiding the question," said Ginny, putting her hands on her hips and cocking her head to the side.

"Which was?" Hermione asked with a faint smile.

"Where did you get them?"

Hermione sighed. "Well… Draco, actually."

Ginny's jaw dropped and Ron looked up from the book he'd been flipping through.

"Malfoy…gave them to you?"

Now that she thought about it, and the way Ginny said it, it was a little odd that he'd given them to her. She'd never thought it odd before, it seemed to make sense, but now… it sounded weird.

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Well, when we first came here, I didn't have anything with me, just the clothes I'd worn to work. He had them here for me already."

"Oh," said Ginny. She and Ron looked at each other and Ron frowned.

"Why is he buying you clothes?" he asked.

"Because… he said because I hadn't had a chance to get anything together, they basically just kidnapped me and gave me the chance to either join them or not. Then, after I did, I never really went back to my flat for much."

Then Ginny smiled. "So… he bought you clothes."

"Yes, Ginny."

"Huh. Interesting. Filing that away for future use…"

"I'm not sure what you're thinking," Hermione said cautiously.

"Not much at the moment, but there are little pieces, here and there…" Ginny continued to smile, looking entirely too smug for Hermione's liking. Ron was still frowning, looking between the two women.

Hermione was really not ready for that conversation. "Yes, well, then you two have fun. I'm going to go back downstairs and reclaim my spot on the sofa."

o

Day Eleven

o

"Potter."

"Malfoy."

"Hand me that – what did you call it? Screwdriver?"

Harry obliged.

"Remind me why we're doing this the Muggle way?" Draco muttered in annoyance. He was in the process of removing the doorknob from an old, seemingly abandoned shack in the middle of a dense forest. The shack was really a Death Eater hideout that had very recently been used, perhaps even by Lucius.

Harry chuckled. "The less magic we do, the less chance we have of being detected. And unlocking charms are highly traceable."

Draco knew that, he just really didn't like what he was having to do. Why Harry couldn't turn the little screws was beyond him; he seemed to think he was better used holding the… electric torch?

"How do you think they're doing?" Harry asked.

Draco was concentrating on the blasted screws. "Fine, I'm sure," he said distractedly.

"You still sending owls every three days? With the blank parchment?"

"Uh-huh," Draco said distractedly, still concentrating on the screws. "Granger's smart; she'll know what it's about." He frowned, the last screw giving him trouble. Finally, "Got it." The doorknob came off and the door slowly swung open on squeaky hinges. The inside was small, only one room, and it was full of dust. There was a table in the middle of the room, and chairs thrown around, but nothing else.

"Potter. Open a window?"

Harry stopped. "Right…" He went to the wall nearest the table and opened the half-rotten shutters.

Draco wiped the table thoroughly, taking care to remove every speck of dust. Then he pulled a piece of parchment from his robes and magically expanded it to the size of the table. He gently smoothed it down until it lay completely flat on its surface. With a tap of his wand and a whispered "Transcribo," words slowly appeared on the parchment. It was like doing a tracing in pencil; if someone had written something on the table, a letter perhaps, then a trace would be left behind, even if only very faint. The darker the words, the more recently they were written or the harder the writer had pressed with his quill.

"Done," Draco said.

Harry walked to the table and they both studied what had been revealed. Portions of letters and instructions were concentrated on the center, but just barely Harry noticed a fluid 'L' Draco tapped his wand again, and most of the words disappeared, leaving behind a few pieces of words that could be distinguished from the smudges.

"Looks like somewhere near Lancaster," said Draco.

"Yes, it does."

They both straightened and Draco returned the parchment to its original size and stuffed it back into his robe.

"You know, we get closer every day," said Harry.

Draco nodded. "Yeah."

"Are you okay with that?"

Draco shrugged. "I have to be. I made this choice a long time ago, and I intend to see it through. Are you worrying about me now, Potter?"

"No!" Harry said quickly. "No, it… just can't be easy. If you… wanted to talk…."

"You're like Granger," Draco said with a chuckle. "You think I'm like… you. That I'd want to talk. I mean, I'm not like you. I don't want to talk, I want to get it done and… move on."

"A man of few words, but much action."

"Exactly," said Draco with a smile. "Now. Let's go, shall we?"

o

Day Fourteen

o

"Hermione!"

"What, Ron?" she said, huffing into the sitting room to find Ron slouched on the sofa, the remote in his hand.

"There's nothing on."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Go get a new film."

"I can't leave," she said, slightly exasperated. They'd been over this already. A few times. She sat down next to him heavily.

"Summon one?" he asked, sounding slightly hopeful.

"I can't, and you know it."

"Hermione, I'm bored."

She chuckled. "There's nothing I can do. I suggest you take up a new hobby."

"Like what? Reading?" he said with a scoff.

"You don't hear me complaining about being bored, do you?"

"Come on," he whined. "Let us go through Malfoy's room!"

"Ron! That idea has already been brought up and squelched."

"By you."

"I wouldn't let him go through your room."

"Come on, you're no fun."

"I said no, Ron."

He only made a vague growling noise and resumed flipping through channels on the telly.

ooo

That night after dinner, when Ron was safely out of earshot, Ginny said, "Hermione, I want to know what's going on between you and Malfoy."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked slowly.

Ginny smirked. "I think you know exactly what I mean."

Even though she'd hoped to avoid this inevitable conversation for just a little while longer, perhaps sooner would be better. And…in all honesty, it was natural for women to want to talk about the men they fancied.

Hermione smiled shyly. "Well…"

"Do you fancy him?" Ginny asked, looking at once both serious and excited.

"I… Yes. Oh, I said it. I can't believe it. I've never said it out loud!"

Ginny smiled warmly. "I've suspected ever since we first came here. That night you and Harry explained everything to us… you defended him so strongly, and the way he looked at you was positively sizzling."

Hermione blushed. "Well, now, that I wouldn't know – "

"And then there was the fact that he wanted Ron and me here for you. Then the robes, and the sparkle you get in your eyes whenever you talk about him. It's glaringly obvious, you know."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Do you think Ron suspects?" she asked Ginny.

Ginny started to shake her head, but a voice interrupted them.

"Suspects what?" Ginny and Hermione looked at each other as Ron came further into the kitchen and sat at the table with them. "What is it I might suspect?"

"Now, Ron," started Ginny. "I'm talking to Hermione."

"Yeah, and I'm not completely deaf, you know. I was only in the other room. Only I didn't catch everything. What about Malfoy?"

"Nothing," said Hermione quickly.

Ron scoffed. "Surely you must know I don't believe you." He sighed. "Okay, is this about you and Malfoy?"

Hermione held his gaze for a moment before deciding she didn't care if Ron knew. She needed them to see Draco through her eyes and not only their own.

"I…fancy him, Ron."

His eyes bugged and his jaw dropped. "What!?" he exclaimed, his distaste evident. "Wha – how? That's… what?"

Hermione looked at her two friends. Could they possibly truly accept what she would tell them? Ginny maybe, but Ron was a different story. Ever since they went out briefly and discovered they were better as friends, he'd been very protective of her with respect to the blokes she'd dated.

"Oh Ron, grow up," scolded Ginny. "Leave her alone. If there's something going on between them, then we – including you – need to accept it. And him."

Ron scrunched up his nose. "As if that twit could ever be good enough for you, Hermione."

She said nothing, just looked in her lap.

Then Ron said, slowly, "You… like… him."

She took a deep breath. Then, "Yes."

"But how?" Ron asked. "How can you like him? How can you stand to be in the same room with him? He killed your parents!"

"I know, Ron. But… I don't know, things are different. He's so different. I can't begin to tell you what it's been like living here."

"When did you first start having feelings for him?" asked Ginny.

"After Christmas. Remember when we told you that Lucius attacked me? "

"Yes," said Ron, cautiously.

"Well, Lucius didn't hurt me – much. Draco and Harry came for me and things were fine afterwards. Anyway, I could tell that Draco was really upset at what his father did, as if he really cared about me. And, well, he helped me through that, and he's always been kind and caring, even though at the same time he's been impossible and the same as he's always been. Oh, it's so hard to describe."

"More importantly," said Ron. "Does he feel the same way about you?"

Hermione could no longer restrain the gigantic smile that had been threatening to show itself ever since she admitted aloud she liked Draco. "I… think so."

"You think so? Shouldn't you know?" said Ron.

"We've never actually talked about it, Ron. But… we kissed."

"What?!" squealed Ginny, bouncing in her chair. "You kissed him? Did he kiss you? What was it like? Oh Merlin, Hermione!"

Ron looked like he might be sick on something he ate for dinner.

"Yes, he kissed me. It was…" How could you describe something so perfect, so meaningful, and intense and powerful and so… sad?

Ginny squeezed her hand. "It's okay. Keep it for yourself."

Hermione smiled at her friend and returned the squeeze.

"When did you know he cared for you?"

"I think he's somehow cared about me the whole time. I saw it, looking back, in the little things he did, like always checking on me at night to make sure I was covered when I slept, thinking of my safety all the time. I don't think he liked me, he just cared. I don't even really know for sure how he feels, he's so guarded and in an instant he'll throw up ten-foot walls with iron bars that no one can get through."

"Sounds – wonderful," said Ginny, smiling at her.

"I don't know what it is. All I know is that he'd better not die because I will be very put out."

"Could that happen?" asked Ron.

"Hello! They're going to fight Voldemort. It's a given that death is a possibility."

"Let's not talk about that," said Ginny.

"Let's play Exploding Snap!" said Ron. Ginny nodded enthusiastically, and Hermione smiled. Avoidance was running amuck in the room. She followed the two redheads into the sitting room to join their game.

o

Day Twenty-four

o

Draco slammed the door behind him and strode angrily into the room. Harry came in after him.

"Malfoy, will you wait a second?"

He glared at Harry, but said nothing.

"Draco – "

"What? What do you want?"

"I – well, if you want to talk about it…" Harry's voice trailed off at the look of violence in Draco's eyes.

"Do I have a bloody lion on my forehead or something? Something to make you think I'm one of you lot? I don't talk. I don't want to open up, tell you how I'm feeling." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "None of that rubbish. I – I want to be left alone."

"Okay, okay, I get it. You don't want to talk to me."

Draco sat on the edge of the bed and let his head drop into his hands. Harry stood awkwardly near the door still, looking at Draco's back.

"But would you talk to Hermione? If she were here?"

Draco turns around and gives him the look of death. "She… she's out of this time, she's… not here, she… no, I wouldn't talk to her." He paused. "I – I might; no. I wouldn't. I mean, what am I supposed to say?"

"He's your father."

"Yeah, I know. That's why you're asking me if I want to talk about it."

"It's not like he's some random person."

"I know what tomorrow is, Harry. I get it. But I don't need to talk, all right?" Draco said with extreme annoyance. He turned back around to face the wall, face away from Harry.

"You'd talk to her," Harry said.

"I don't know," Draco said. "It – it's not likely. She's in another world, she doesn't exist here. I have to do this, I can't think about her. Or… anything her."

"I understand that."

"So it's pointless to ask if I would talk to her. I haven't ever before, even though she's offered. I could, I know I could. I might, I don't know. Okay? I…"

"Do you love her?"

He paused a long time before answering. "Ask me tomorrow."

ooo

"Hermione?"

"Yeah, Ginny?"

"It's been over three weeks, you know."

"I know." They were once again on the sofa. Hermione suspected it would be forever altered due to the nearly constant presence of all three of them on its cushions.

"You said they'd be gone maybe four?"

Hermione nodded.

"It – is it okay to start worrying now?"

"As if you haven't been worried the whole time."

"Well, I mean full-out worrying. You know, holding nothing back."

Hermione chuckled. "I see."

"So what do you do when you worry?"

"Ginny, are you asking me how to worry?"

"I was just wondering…"

"Usually, I stop eating, I don't sleep very well, and I'm just a mess, in general."

"Sounds like how I feel."

"Look, let's try, you and me and Ron. Let's try hard not to let ourselves get sick. I mean, who knows what happens when they come back." She looked at Ginny, willing her to remember to think positively, to know that they were, in fact, coming back. "I mean, who knows what they'll need from us, we have to be ready to move, to go."

"Right, yes. So we keep eating."

"Yes. And we have to sleep."

"Okay."

"Good."

"Hermione?"

"Yeah, Ginny?"

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

"Of course. How are you holding up?"

"I can't believe… it's here. I mean, it's really here."

"I know," said Hermione.

"Hey, Hermione?" called Ron. Moments later he appeared in the doorway.

"Yes, Ron?"

"Where's the – oh. Sorry."

"It's okay. We were talking about Harry."

"Oh," he said, looking down. "Yeah. Uhm, where's the cereal?"

"We ran out this morning."

"What am I supposed to eat?"

"It's not breakfast, though."

"I know, I'm hungry."

"Well, I'll fix you some eggs."

"I don't want eggs."

"That's what we have."

"Can't you send the owl out for cereal?"

"Ron!" said Ginny. "Come on, stop it."

"Sorry, I just… I can't talk about Harry, is all."

"I know," said Hermione, smiling up at him. "I'll fix you some eggs."

"That's all?"

"That's all, Ron."

He nodded and left the doorway, but returned a moment later. He sat next to Hermione on the sofa and put his arms around her. "I don't understand how you're so strong right now. I – I'm not. I'm completely not. Barely holding on. I have to think about cereal every waking moment in order to not go insane."

"I wouldn't assume, if I were you, that I am doing any better than you. I'm just showing it differently."

"And you're worried about Malfoy," said Ginny.

Hermione half-smiled and looked at the floor. "Yeah. I am. Even though he promised he'd come back."

"He did?"

"Yeah. I mean, I know it's one of those promises you make that there's a chance you won't be able to keep. I'm worried about both of them. It's not really new; I'm just pretending it's like every other mission. They're going to come back. Draco might have another broken rib, or Harry might have a scratch finally, but they'll be okay. That's all I can do, that's how I'm dealing with this."

"Just another mission."

"It's been twenty-four days. We've made it this far. I – I really believe Harry can do this. He can. Harry can do this."

"What if something happens to Malfoy?" Ginny asked.

Hermione gave a strangled laugh. "Well, I suppose I'll be…" Lost. "I don't know, I can't even imagine. I've grown so much since I've known him, and finally let go of my parents' death. I owe him that. He's…" Her voice broke and her eyes filled with tears.

Ginny hugged her and rubbed her head. "You're in love with him. Aren't you?"

Hermione still couldn't say anything, so she only nodded and cried harder, and Ginny hugged her harder.

o

Day Twenty-five

o

"Draco?"

A heavy heart. "Yeah?"

"You okay."

A long pause. "Yeah."

"I – I'm sorry."

"Yeah." A heart-emptying sigh.

"So… want to… talk…"

A glare.

"Guess not. Uh, about yesterday."

"Yeah?"

"Do – do you love her?"

"Yeah." Draco was having trouble breathing. He was having trouble thinking. He suspected it might have something to do with the gnawing, festering hole in his heart that had been ripped open, against his wishes, against his better judgment. It had just happened, no warning. "I told him that."

"Oh," said Harry.

"While I waited for you. We had a nice… short… chat."

"I don't guess you'd want to talk about it."

Draco chuckled. "No."

"But you'd talk to Hermione?"

"Maybe. If she asked."

"Which she would."

"Yeah."

"You gonna be okay?"

Another long pause. "Yeah."

o

Day Twenty-Nine

o

"Harry."

"Yeah?"

"This is it."

"I know."

They looked at each other and something passed between them silently – complete and utter confidence and a resolve, an acceptance, of what they had to do. Harry looks at the door they're standing outside of.

"Harry."

"Yeah."

"There's so much I wish I'd said," Draco said, sounding slightly desperate. "Why didn't I?"

"Draco, stop. You had your reasons."

"Yeah, I know, but now they don't seem very good. I should have told her everything."

"Remember the dangers to yourself if you had."

"Still. What was that compared to this? I should have told her."

"Stop. Stop thinking about it."

"So many things I wish I'd said."

"You'll get to. Just… don't die, okay?"

"Right. I'll work on that."

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"If I don't make it… tell her I'm sorry."

"Tell her you're sorry?"

"I – I promised her I'd come back."

"What?"

"It was the only way I could keep her from not coming with us."

"And you had no intention of keeping that promise?"

"Oh, I assure you, I really would prefer to remain alive through this… venture. But, things happen. You never know."

"Well… it looks like you've got a promise to keep. I won't have you letting Hermione down."

"Like I said, I fully intend to return alive and breathing. I'd… really prefer to tell her everything in person. I…" He smiled. "I'd really like for her to kiss me again."

Harry gaped at him. "Well, then we'd better make sure that happens."

ooo

"Ready Harry?"

"Ready, Draco."

ooo

"Hermione."

She looked at him warmly. "Hey, Ron."

"Something's happened. I can feel it."

A chill ran through Hermione's spine, and her smile faded. She put a hand in her robe pocket and felt the thick envelope from Draco. Nothing indicated any change.

"What do you mean, Ron?"

"I was sitting on Harry's broom today, my feet dangling in the water. A cold breeze blew, nearly knocking me off. Then a warm breeze blew, and it made me laugh. There was something so wonderful in that breeze. I looked into the water and it was a little brighter, it sparkled more brilliantly. I saw fish swimming very near the surface, more than I've ever seen before. I actually thought they were dancing."

Hermione frowned. "What do you think it means?"

"I don't dare say. But I'm hopeful."

"Thanks, Ron. For telling me. I hope you're right."

He nodded and went upstairs.

Hermione finished cleaning up after dinner. She took Draco's cloak and a book out onto the porch, but she didn't crack its pages. She stared absently at the bleak ocean; she distantly heard the constant roar of crashing waves.

It wasn't as if she were expecting something; she was just looking. She thought about what Ron had said and wondered what it meant. It had been almost poetic-- fish dancing.

As she stared into the depths of the night sky, her eyes slowly focused on something moving. Her brain kicked in, and she watched as something grew. She saw flapping wings – it was a bird, an owl. Hermione let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding. Just an owl.

It perched beside her and held out its leg. She removed the parchment, and sighed. It was another blank piece of parchment, sent from Harry and Draco. At least she knew they were still safe. She tossed the parchment on the seat beside her and was about to open her book when something caught her eye. There was something on the parchment. She snatched it up quickly and opened it.

In the very center of the small, square piece of parchment was a stamp. It read "St. Mungo's Hospital for the …" She blinked, and the gears starting to turn, and then to smoke.

She jumped up from her chair and ran into the house and up the stairs, yelling.

"Ron! Ginny! Wake up! Get up! Now! We have to go! Come on!"

She opened both Harry's and her door, still screaming. Ron and Ginny appeared at their respective doors, alarmed.

"What, Hermione?" said Ron, wide-eyed.

She shook the parchment in his face. "St. Mungo's. Let's go already." Ron and Ginny grabbed their cloaks and followed Hermione down the stairs, where they Disapparated.

When they arrived at St. Mungo's, Hermione went straight to the witch who told people where patients were located.

"Harry Potter," she rushed out.

The witch frowned. "Harry Potter? Let's see… hmm… family only. Seventh floor; restricted section." She looked up. "Any family here?"

"Ginny. She's his wife."

"Go on, then."

They followed Ginny to the lift which took them up to the seventh floor. When the doors opened, they saw a mass of people in the hallway – the entire Order, from the look of it.

They ran to the room where the central activity seemed to be. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were the only ones inside. Hermione glanced around the hall for Draco, but didn't expect to see him. Still, she was slightly sad. She figured he was in another room, incredibly beaten if his track record were anything to mention, but not dead. She knew he wasn't dead.

Ginny banged on the door. Molly looked up and saw the three of them peeking in. She opened the door and pulled them in.

"What happened?" asked Hermione. Harry was lying on the bed, asleep.

Arthur spoke. "We got an urgent owl about two hours ago to come here. Harry listed us as next of kin." Molly sniffled. "We arrived and learned that Harry had been brought here, and was hurt. We sent for a few members of the Order, and, well, everyone came."

"Is he okay?" asked Ginny, barely able to keep herself from turning hysterical.

"They think so, dear. He – he defeated V – Voldemort, and was hit with some sort of spell when the Dark Lord died. The Healers are still trying to figure out what it was."

"Voldemort's dead?" asked Ron.

"Yes, honey," said Molly, smiling through her tears.

Hermione's brain was spinning. Voldemort was dead; it was over. Everything was over. No more War, no more Voldemort.

Malfoy.

"How did Harry get here?" she asked. Ron and Ginny both looked at her, their faces grave and eyes wide.

Arthur frowned. "That part is odd. They told us Draco Malfoy , of all people, brought him in. Walked right in to the lobby, carrying Harry. They said he was quite haggard-looking himself, clothes ripped and bleeding a bit, but he walked in and everyone stared. I wish I'd seen it. No one's seen either of them in months, and they show up at the hospital, together. Healers rushed to Harry and took him from Malfoy, who refused to leave Harry's side until he knew if Harry would be okay. Once they assured him Harry would recover, he allowed himself to be taken into custody."

Hermione couldn't breathe; she couldn't speak or think. Azkaban. And the number- one wanted man, as Voldemort was now dead.

"Oh, Hermione," said Ginny.

"It's okay," she told herself. "I'm going to help him."

Molly was obviously confused. "Help who?"

"I have to help Draco. It'll be the Kiss for him if I don't."

"Mum, relax, please," said Ron. "He's – okay. He helped Harry, I promise."

"But – Draco Malfoy," she said, extremely concerned and suspicious. Arthur frowned at them.

"Mum," said Ginny, "Why would he have brought Harry here if he weren't to be trusted? If he wanted to, he could have killed him. But he didn't."

"I don't know, kids," said Arthur, looking at Molly. "I admit it's strange, but – "

"I'm going now," said Hermione to Ron and Ginny. She moved toward the door.

"Take Charlie with you!" called Molly as the door closed behind her.

ooo