She looked towards the manor. “I want to go back to my room now. I barely have any time left, I don't want to spend it in this rose garden standing in your wife's blood.”
She started walking towards the house and froze, her throat closing when she realised she couldn't see Draco anymore. She turned sharply back and stood, staring at him for several seconds while her chest jerked.
She felt hollow. She'd poured herself out and now all she had left was a shell.
“How am I supposed to do this without you?” Her voice was shaking. She raised her hands and then let them drop limply at her sides. “I can't even go outside by myself. What's even the point in having me escape? I might have a seizure if I have to go without you.”
Draco's expression was guarded, but his eyes flickered and the line of his mouth tensed. “You'll have your occlumency back, that should help.”
Hermione stared at him.
He glanced away. “I'll have Dreamless Sleep you can take, if necessary. Severus is aware of your agoraphobia, and he's planned accordingly. You'll share a horse. He's someone you trusted.”
Hermione released a sharp, angry breath. “Why are you so resigned to dying? Even at the beginning, when you made your offer to the Order, you were always planning to die like it wouldn't matter to anyone. Why are you still like that? Now—” her voice broke, “—when it does?”
Draco sighed, and his mouth twisted briefly as he met her eyes. He set his jaw and glanced away, his lips twitching. “I didn't have anyone, Granger. After my mother died, I didn't have anyone. My life was blown apart when I returned home after fifth year. Everything I did after that was trying not to lose the remaining pieces that I had. Once she died — it didn't matter. Revenge was all I could do to make up for it, and it didn't matter to anyone—”
He looked down.
“Not until you came along.” He sounded almost bitter. He met her eyes and walked across the bloodstained gravel towards her. “I didn't make plans past the war. Potter was never going to win, I always knew that. Falling for you didn't change that — it just — it just—” he released a sharp breath and looked down, his voice growing quieter. “It just made knowing it worse.”
His throat dipped as he swallowed and stared at her, and his mouth curved into a wistful smile. “I — loved how you believed in the future, even when you didn't expect you'd get to be a part of it. How you insisted we'd somehow defy the inevitable. You Gryffindors are such idealists — I never understood the appeal of it until you.” He reached out and caught a curl with his fingers. “The way you thought we'd always be together, and talked about running away almost until the end. I would have done anything to give you what you wanted, but—” he gave a short laugh and shook his head as his hand dropped away from her. “I don't know how to do it. It's not for a lack of trying, Granger. I've run out of ideas.”
Hermione drew a low breath. The summer heat had mixed the coppery scent of blood with the honey-sweet scent of blooming roses. When the smell struck her, her tongue curdled and a wave of nauseous despair crawled up her throat. She pressed the back of her hand against her nose and turned away.
“I want to go back inside,” she said after she'd forced away the urge to vomit.
Draco took her hand, and she dully let him lead her back to the manor.
Shortly after they arrived in her room, Draco was summoned. He conjured his Death Eater robes and vanished without a word. He didn't return for hours.
Something was wrong.
Hermione called Topsy, who appeared and informed her that Lucius had not returned either. Hermione paced in her room reviewing possibilities: Voldemort was upset over Astoria's death, Voldemort had used legilimency on Lucius and noticed something that had betrayed Draco, something else had gone wrong that Hermione was too oblivious to guess.
She hovered at the door, but there was no point in going out.
There was nothing she could do. She kept waiting.
She was standing by the window when the back of her neck prickled. She turned.
Draco was standing in the middle of the room, pulling his mask off.
He had an unreadable expression on his face, as though he were shocked and devastated.
His hair, skin, and eyes stood out starkly in the dark room making him look almost luminous. He stared at her for several seconds.
“The Dark Lord just received word — Romania has severed their alliance with the Dark Lord. They deposed the government and killed the Dark Lord's emissaries — including Severus.”
Draco looked away and shook his head. “What is the point of legilimency if you don't use it to keep someone from killing you?” He scoffed, the sound harsh and angry in the back of his throat. “He survived as a spy through two Wizarding Wars only to be killed by an insurgent vampire coven.”
Hermione could feel the cold rage starting to emanate from him.