It was like the Enigma code; if the Order managed to break through the enchantments, it would only result in the Death Eaters perfecting it more quickly.
She rolled onto her side and wondered if the shackles would have been invented if Draco hadn't enabled the Order to stage so many prison break-ins; if the Order hadn't made such an elaborate attack in June and destroyed the original curse division.
Was it inevitable? Or had they caused it? If they hadn't, would there have been any other way for the Resistance to have lasted so long? Or would the war have already ended?
She didn't know.
She could only wonder.
Her bed felt colder than it ever had before.
She slept for two hours before she couldn't any longer. She went down to the kitchen in Grimmauld Place and made tea.
She looked at the scroll of analysis again and then stared out the window at the full moon. Luminous, cold silver. She had loved the moon as a child. The monthly evolution and subtle beauty had always entranced her. Since meeting Remus in third year, the moon had grown tragic and ominous. Its beauty a harbinger of pain.
Ron would grow to hate the moon.
She wrapped her hands around her mug and felt the heat seep into her hands.
She felt cold. On the outside. On the inside. She felt cold.
She would always feel cold now. There would always be a trace of it in her.
She laid her head on the table and traced grain of the wood under her fingertips. She missed Draco. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to bury herself in his arms and forget her whole life.
The war had eaten her until she felt as though there were only the meagrest shreds left. As though its claws had sunk into her chest, and she could no more tear herself free than she could rip out her lungs and expect to survive. With Draco, she felt alive. Like she was breathing again after years of forgetting how to do anything but survive.
She held the mug tighter until the heat began to fade.
She didn't even know how to contact him. Not unless it was on behalf of the Order. She'd given him her word that she wouldn't summon him otherwise.
She spun the ring around her finger.
She wondered if he'd been at the Tonks cottage. If he'd been injured or injured anyone.
She started slightly and made a mental note. He'd used his analgesic potion on her wrist. Even if he could replace everything else, it was unlikely that Severus had shared that potion with the Death Eater army. She'd have to take him a replacement vial when she saw him again.
She also needed more fluxweed. She began cataloguing places she'd be able to find it growing. Then she paused, her heart sinking.
No more foraging.
Hermione bit her lip and looked down at her hands. Foraging had been hers. It had been terrifying and dangerous, but it had been hers. A chance to escape Grimmauld Place for a few hours; to feel the wind on her face and the cold of the early morning dew on her hands; to notice the seasons slowly emerging.
She looked wistfully out the window of Grimmauld Place.
She felt like bird whose wings had been slowly clipped shorter and shorter until they were nearly shorn away.
She sighed and turned away from the window. She stared at the scroll again, marking notes about potential resources to look up.
The next Tuesday she went to the shack without foraging beforehand for the first time. She felt nervous as she stared up at the door. She wasn't sure—
It was always impossible to predict what Draco would do next.
Her jaw trembled and her fingers wavered a breath away from door knob. She withdrew her hand, curling it into a fist and forcing herself to take a deep breath.
This was her job, she reminded herself. It didn't matter what happened from one week to the next. It never mattered. It was still her job.
She swallowed and pressed her lips tightly together as she reached out and opened the door.
Draco appeared as she stepped inside.
He apparated in, nearly on top of her, grabbed her firmly, and backed her into the wall as his lips crashed into hers. She could feel his hunger; in his hands as he dragged them along her body; in his breath as he drew a ragged gasp against her mouth.
Hermione's eyes widened with surprise as she was crushed against him. Her fingers caught his robes. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed him back.
His hand came up and captured her jaw, just below her ear. His fingers curled around to the base of her neck, arching her head back as he kissed her more deeply.
She clung to him, and he pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. The whole world dropped away. Hermione kissed him ravenously. She wanted to pour herself into him.
He pulled her up, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she felt his teeth against her lips and tongue.
It was like falling. He had her pinned against the wall. She hardly knew where she ended and he began. Her lungs were catching fire but she wouldn't tear her mouth from his.