She ignored the weight in her chest. If she paid attention to it, it would crush her to death.
If she didn't keep herself preoccupied, she suspected her guilt would swallow her whole.
She was leaving everyone behind. The Order, The Weasleys, DA, The Resistance. She was leaving them all behind.
“Do you really think we'll just die? Angelina, they're not going to shut down Sussex when they win the war. We're livestock. You didn't see the prisoners they brought from the last curse division. They were — They were dissolving, rotting, skinned and still alive, there were things crawling inside them — The ones that could still speak begged me to kill them.”
She was leaving them to that. The lucky ones might die under interrogation, but Sussex would be the fate of everyone else.
Her stomach wrenched, and she pressed her hands over her mouth as she struggled not to panic or vomit.
She couldn't think about it. She couldn't. Draco couldn't risk his cover by trying to save them.
He and Severus were crucial for finding the remaining horcrux. Trying to get anyone at Hogwarts out would endanger the Order's only hope of actually defeating Voldemort.
Once Ginny was safely away, the horcrux had to be the priority.
Her hands shook, and she rummaged through Draco's supplies until she found a Draught of Peace.
The air moved, soundless, and Draco reappeared in the middle of the room, Ginny's limp body in his arms.
The glamours on Ginny's skin and stomach were gone.
Hermione flung herself across the room, pulling Ginny away from Draco and running dozens of diagnostics on her as she knelt on the floor, gripping her tightly in her arms.
There was no trace locked around either of Ginny's wrists.
“What happened? Did you knock her out? Where was she when you found her?”
“She was in a lab. They'd just removed the glamours when I arrived. I contained it.” Draco's voice was calm. Flat.
Hermione cast a diagnostic on Ginny's stomach and watched the large, fluttering light with relief. Ginny's unconscious expression was frozen terror. She'd been dosed with a type of temporary stasis potion. Hermione cast several more spells to ensure nothing had been done to her.
“Once you've confirmed she's unharmed, we need to go. It will take a few hours to get you to the safe house and ensure everything is arranged.”
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.
Never make a deal with a devil, his price will always be more than you can pay.
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.
When she regained consciousness, Draco was leaning over her once again. She stared up at him. There was the taste of something bitter and herbal in her mouth. Her whole body felt numb and her brain sluggish.