Hermione was anxiously examining her diagnostics, but it slowly bled into her subconscious that there was something unnerving about Draco's tone.
Hermione looked up at him.
There was a long burn along his jaw, and he was staring down at Hermione with an expression that was both wistful and starved.
The way Harry had looked at her.
There was a dropping sensation in her chest as she realised it.
“What is it?” She laid Ginny's unconscious body on the floor and stood, reaching for him as she cast a diagnostic. “What's wrong?”
The corner of Draco's mouth twitched, and then it curved into a thin smile as she drew closer and her fingers ghosted along his jaw.
He stared down at the floor for a moment before looking up and meeting her eyes. “I've blown my cover getting the Weasley girl out for you.”
Hermione stood frozen, her wand slipped from her fingers and clattered to ground. “What?”
She tried again. “You — you what?”
She looked into his eyes, certain she was misunderstanding him. But it was in his eyes.
He was saying goodbye to her. He was going to die.
She shook her head slowly. “No.”
It was like the moment in Cambridge when he'd activated the artifact, and all the oxygen vanished. No air. No sound. Just silence.
The quiet space between slowing heartbeats, until the moment when the heart didn't beat again.
It was that sound. The negative space. The sound of nothing.
“No,” she said again.
“There wasn't any other way.”
“No.” Her heart had started to beat again. Faster and faster.
“I told you, there are extensive counter-espionage measures in place. There are records that I was there, that I entered labs with highly-controlled access. I could hardly burn down the building and fight my way out carrying an unconscious and pregnant witch. Tomorrow — when the guard duty is switched over to a new shift, the lab will be found. The records will show that I was the only one who left alive.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“We should go now.”
“No. Draco — we can go back.” She turned towards her bag. “There must be a way to destroy the records — I can—“
He gripped her by both arms and pulled her back, his expression set. “You made the deal, Granger. I met your terms.”
Hermione gave a low, pained sound in the back of her throat as he pulled her closer, looking in her eyes.
His eyes were intent as he stared at her, as though he were memorising her because it was the last time he'd ever see her. There was also a sort of vicious triumph in them.
“Anything I wanted, if I went and got the Weasley girl for you; those were your terms.”
Her stomach had dropped until there was nothing but a chasm inside her. Her chest hurt as though Draco had reached in and wrenched her heart out.
No. He couldn't die.
There were black spots beginning to appear in her vision as she stood staring at him.
No. She wouldn't let him.
“Draco…”
There was a cold rage trickling down her throat. It wasn't an accident. He'd known. The calculation in his eyes the moment she made her offer. He'd known, and he'd taken it. He'd done it in order to get what he wanted, without giving her a chance to find a better option.
She stood mute and unable to breathe as she absorbed it.
Draco stood studying her for several more moments before his mouth curved into a faint smile. His hand rose up, and his knuckles grazed her cheek as he continued to study her.
“We had a good run, Granger, but we were never going to last.” The corner of his mouth twitched, and she felt him slip a curl behind her ear before his hand ghosted down to rest briefly at the base of her throat. “You knew that.”
“Draco, please let me—” she started, her voice shaking. She tried to back away, but he caught her arm.
His expression hardened again. “Anything I wanted. It was your deal.”
Her lungs were beginning to burn. “Draco — Draco — don't — don't do this to me.”
“They were your terms, Granger. I met them. It's time to go. You swore you'd leave.”
She tried to pull away from him, but she couldn't breathe. Draco was beginning to swim in front of her eyes. The edges of him were blurring. He was speaking, but the words were growing rounded and difficult to decipher.
She tried to pull away again, but he was holding her too tightly.
Her hands and arms were beginning to prick painfully as though there were needles sinking into her skin.
Draco pulled her closer and the set, determined expression on his face was beginning to shift into worry.
“Granger — breathe.” The edges of him were fading into black. His eyes were becoming tense and worried. He shook her slightly. “Hermione — don't — come on — breathe — Hermione.”
She couldn't breathe.
She was going to lose him.
Her fingers grasped at the fabric of his robes as she swallowed and tried to speak.
“Draco—” her voice was broken, “—don't do this to me.”
The devastation swallowed her like a tidal wave, and Draco vanished into its darkness.