“When the Chamber of Secrets was opened during our second year, it was caused by the soul fragment possessing Ginny Weasley. Your father put the horcrux in with her books in an attempt to discredit Arthur Weasley.”
“If they were made during the first war, and he entrusted one to his followers — I'll look into it. You should have told me sooner.”
“I shouldn't even be telling you now.” She rested her hand over his heart. “I wasn't trying to add something else. I just — I don't have anyone to talk to. It helps me to think if I can talk aloud.”
He snorted. “If it ends this, it's worth it. What is the Order doing? Everything Moody and Shacklebolt assign me is just buying time.” His voice was vibrating with fury.
“Draco…”
He didn't say anything else, but his rage was palpable.
He didn't trust Kingsley or Moody or the Order. He was terrified if he died, they might sell her again to try to survive.
And she couldn't promise him that she wouldn't. She would do anything to win the war. He knew that. She suspected that fear drove him more than anything else.
He wrapped his arms around her, and she could feel it in his hands, in the way he touched her.
She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart.
"You should get body-armor,” she said. “I was researching it. Ukrainian Ironbelly hide. It's lightweight, highly resistant to magic, and almost impenetrable to physical attacks. If you wear it under your robes, no one will even know it's there. It could save your life someday.”
He didn't say anything. He was still staring down at her research on the horcruxes.
Sometimes they didn't leave the shack in Whitecroft immediately. He'd arrive with so many injuries he'd be going into shock. Other times, she'd feel the tremors of cruciatus in his hands.
She'd heal him and then sit with his head in her lap while he stabilised. She'd treat the tremors in his arms and hands while he floated on the edge of consciousness. She muttered apologies to him under her breath as she tapped her wand tip across his hands, bending, and rubbing, and massaging his fingers until they stopped twitching.
She let herself cry over him when he wasn't conscious to see it. She gripped his hands in hers and tried to fix him.
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry.” She said it over and over.
She'd wipe her eyes and banish all her tears before she rennervated him. She'd feel the tension tear through his body as he regained consciousness and then feel him breathe when he looked up and saw her.
He'd apparate them to a hotel and sleep with his arms wrapped possessively around her.
When even Draco's presence was insufficient to quiet her demons, she'd study his face and listen to his heartbeat, quietly promising him, “I'm going to take care of you. I swear, I'm always going to take care of you.”
Chapter End Notes
Illustrations by Avendell, follow her on tumblr and instagram.
Additional Illustrations:
The way she healed Draco by ectoheart.
"I'm always going to take care of you" by jaxx in a box.
Intimacy by katescreativecorner.
"I'll always come for you" by samadiw.
"Don't die." by samadiw.
Sleeping together by roselovesfanfic.
Don't Die Draco by peremeart.
May 2003
It was near the end of May when the Death Eaters launched an attack on a Muggle town in Surrey. It was a trap. They didn't even bother to conceal the fact they were luring the Resistance out.
There was no need to. The Resistance would go anyway.
Hermione watched the Order depart to join the fight and worked with Padma to transfer the hospital ward down into the foyer and expand the walls of the sitting room. They called in several of the Resistance members who functioned as healers and nurses at the hospice safe houses.
Poppy Pomfrey had caught Black Cat Flu and was under quarantine. A disease that caused chronic bad luck was one of the last things that the Order could handle sweeping through the Resistance.
The clock ticked relentlessly on while Hermione paced, carefully and meticulously organising her mind. She gathered all her memories of Draco, shoving them into the furthest recesses of her consciousness where she kept her memories of her parents.
She could not think about Draco. She could not worry about whether he was fighting. Whether Kingsley or Moody had him doing anything that put him into extreme danger in order to give the Resistance a slight edge.
She had to work. Thinking about it wouldn't change anything.
She walled it all away.
Seamus appeared at the door carrying an unfamiliar woman and Michael Corner in his arms.
“Vampire,” he said, nodding towards the woman. “I dunno about him.”
He dropped them and quickly apparated away again.