He sighed but sat up without complaint when she started casting spells, verifying that everything was still healing properly. She rebandaged his arm as she finished. When she was putting his sling back on, her fingertips brushed against the pale skin of his throat. They lingered.
She looked up at his face and found that his eyes were dark and intent as he stared back at her. He reached out slowly with his hand and laced his fingers gently through her hair. Her breath caught, and her pulse quickened.
His touch was safety. Home.
“I love you,” he said after a moment.
Hermione's lips curved slowly in a faint smile. “I love you too.”
He ran his fingers slowly through her hair. “I never imagined I'd say that to you without a Dark Mark branded into me.”
Hermione's jaw trembled.
She lifted her hand to his face, tracing lightly along his jaw, feeling the faint stubble under her fingertips. “The universe finally gave us something.”
He gave a low laugh, and his fingers tangled in her hair tightened possessively.
She shifted closer and leaned forward until their lips were barely touching. “I love you. As long as there is anything of me that exists, I will love you. Always,” she whispered against his mouth.
He closed the infinitesimal space between them.
She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. His hand left her hair and gripped her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed together.
Mine. Mine. Mine. She felt ravenous for him. She wanted to hoard him away inside her heart and bury him there. Time always ran out for them. Things always fell apart, and what they'd taken was all they'd had. They'd survived on moments they stole during the war.
She felt as though she had starved to death from wanting him.
She wasn't going to let him go.
She wasn't going to let things fall apart this time. Her heart started pounding painfully. I can't lose him. I can't lose him.
Her throat and chest began to tighten. She squeezed her eyes closed and shoved her terror back, as far as she could, trying to wall it away before it swallowed her whole.
She wasn't going to panic. She forced herself to breathe, a ragged gasp against his lips.
She ran her fingers along his throat and gripped his shoulders as she forced herself to occlude everything and kept kissing him. Then she drew her lips away so she could stare at him. Her hand dropped down to grip his.
“I'm going to take care of you.” She held his hand tighter and pressed it against her chest. “I'm yours, as long as you want me.”
His hand slid up to cradle her face. He stared at her, his silver eyes intent. “Always. As long as I live.”
She poured herself into him until there wasn't space in her mind for anything else. She kissed him again until she was breathless.
She could kiss him without it meaning goodbye, without wondering if she'd ever see him again. She could be with him just because she could, because he was hers.
“I love you,” she kept saying against his lips. “I love you. I will always love you.”
She could say it as many times as she wanted. Every day for the rest of her life. She could say it and say it.
She gave a low sob against his lips.
Draco drew back, studying her, his expression tensed.
She gripped his shoulders more tightly as she met his eyes. “I'm happy. I didn't think I was ever going to be happy again, but I think this is what being happy feels like. We survived, Draco. I saved you. I didn't think we would, but we survived.”
His mouth curved into a slow smile.
They made love. Slowly. Using all the time they had.
Hermione sat astride him, setting the pace, watching him. The sun was shining outside, and she could feel it on her skin as she looked down and entwined their fingers, canting her hips against his. She could see the light catch in his hair. His eyes shone like molten silver.
Their world was warm.
It grew warmer when he sat up, pulling her hips flush against his as he kissed her. His hand trailed along her spine, gripping her. She could feel the burn of him in her soul. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, tracing her fingers along his runes as they moved together.
“We should take the portkey soon,” he said when they were lying in bed together afterwards. “I'm certain Nix's food qualifies as a health hazard. I'm realising now that basic cooking spells are something I never bothered to learn.”
Hermione glanced over, and her eyes landed on several burnt slices of toast, spread over-generously with preserve. Draco picked up the least burnt slice and offered it to her.
“He's a stable elf. I don't think he's cooked before in his life.”
Hermione nibbled hesitantly on a corner and discovered that the toast was caraway rye bread which clashed intensely with the strawberry preserve.
She choked, and Draco gave her an apologetic look.
He looked around the room. “This was just temporary safe house. I didn't do much more than ward it.” He turned back to look at her. “Are you able to portkey?”