The elves helped Draco up into the saddle, and Hermione mounted behind him. She looked down at Bobbin.
“Get all of the elves out of the manor. Don't let any of the Death Eaters find you. Don't ever tell anyone what happened.”
Bobbin nodded.
Hermione took the reins and drew a deep breath before snapping her wrists and kicking.
“Take us home!” She shouted the words.
The Granian bolted forward like a racehorse released from the gate. Its flight muscles tensed tightly as it galloped the length of the manor and took a powerful leap, wings extending. The smoky grey feathers beat surely against the wind, and they were airborne. The Granian circled, carrying them higher and higher as it gained altitude. The wind was whistling around them as they shot through the protective wards of the estate.
There was a roar from below that shook the air.
Hermione glanced over her shoulder as the roof of Malfoy Manor exploded in flames. An enormous fiendfyre dragon rose up, screaming with soul-rending rage as it tore the building apart.
Chapter End Notes
Additional Illustrations:
Let's run away by minxchester.
"Save him"by Jaxx in a box.
Chapter 73
The air was cold and the wind constant as the Granian sped across England and over the North Sea.
The horse moved impossibly fast through the air, faster than a Thestral, faster than Hermione thought it was possible for any living animal to move.
She gripped Draco until her hands ached. "Don't die, Draco. Hold on."
She kept whispering diagnostic spells and verifying that the curse hadn't evolved, that there wasn't fluid accumulation, reassuring herself that his heart rate remained steady.
They were going so fast and so high that the ground was a blur. She refused to look. She couldn't falter.
"Don't die, Draco,” she said again as she buried her face against his back.
Her head was throbbing.
The horse kept flying, on and on.
Hour after hour.
The sensation of freefalling suddenly made Hermione's stomach flip as the Granian hit the ground at a run. Its wings were held out wide, carrying it up off the ground in long flying leaps as it slowed down.
Hermione lifted her head and stared dazedly. It was night, and only a crescent moon illuminated the sky.
The horse had landed in an open field.
She squeezed Draco's hand as the Granian cantered to a stop. “Draco… Draco, we've landed. I don't know how to find the safe house.”
She shook him gently until she felt him stir. “Draco. I think we're here.”
He lifted his head slowly.
“Nix...”
There was a pop, and a tiny and positively ancient-looking house-elf appeared.
“Master Draco, Nix did not expect you,” the elf said. Its voice was creaky with age.
Draco stared at him and finally nodded slowly. “Take the horse.”
Hermione let the reins slip from her fingers. She started to shift to dismount, but her leg in the stirrup wouldn't hold her. She started to topple off the horse.
Draco abruptly jerked from barely lucid to awake. His right hand shot out and caught her by the cloak.
“Nix!”
Hermione felt herself caught magically, and Draco's hand let go. She was levitated gently to the ground and lay in the grass, too exhausted to move. She stared up at the sky. The stars were bright and glittering overhead.
A moment later Draco brought his leg over the saddle and slid off the Granian, dropping down heavily beside the horse. He patted its neck for a moment before turning and kneeling down next to Hermione. He was as pale as the moonlight, and his expression was dazed but worried as he stared down at her. He pulled the glove off with his teeth and pressed his hand against her cheek.
She forced herself to give him a wan smile. “We did it, Draco.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, and his hand slipped down to take hers. She stood, slowly and unsteadily, and they leaned against each other as they walked forward. Draco stopped and extended his hand. There was a clicking sound, and a ray of pale candle light appeared as a door swung open.
They didn't even bother to pull their cloaks off; they just collapsed into the bed and slept. Hermione gripped his hand tightly between both of hers. Draco's chin brushed against her forehead, and she buried her face against his chest, breathing him in.
It was nearly evening the next day when she woke. Her headache was still a constant grinding pain in the back of her mind. She blinked it away, looking carefully around.
They were in a small A-frame cabin. It smelled of raw timber and was mostly unfurnished. A stove. The bed and a small table. A bright brass key hung from a hook on the wall. There were eyelet lace curtains hanging from the windows, and the sunlight streamed down over them where they lay curled up together on the bed.
There was no cold and sterile manor. No creeping sensation of dark magic in the walls and soil. No manacles. No compulsions.
They were safe. Free. Far away from the war.
She studied Draco, her heart in her throat, as she absorbed everything.
It was too good to be true. It had to be. Things in her life were never this beautiful.
She pulled a hand away from Draco in order to search the lining of her cloak for the unicorn wand. As her fingers closed around it, Draco shifted and she glanced over to find him staring at her.
She gripped the wand tightly in her hand as she looked at him.
Her pulse was racing, and she could almost hear the blood roaring in her ears. It felt as though the wrong movement or sound might break everything apart. The warmth and safety would bleed away, and once again she'd find herself as a shadow in the dark, cold manor or swallowed by the darkness under Hogwarts.
“I feel like this is going to shatter somehow,” she finally said, reaching out and brushing her fingers through his hair, trying to make herself believe that he was truly there. That the warmth and light and feeling of safety were real.
He nodded slowly. As she studied him, she could see the tension around his eyes and in the way his jaw was set.
She reached and unclasped his cloak, gently pushing it off his left shoulder so she could see his bandaged arm. “It's hurting, isn't it?”
He shook his head. “It's fine.”
Her throat tightened. She sat up quickly, and the sunlit world swam in her vision as she blinked rapidly, drawing his unicorn wand from her cloak. “Don't lie about it, I can't care for you properly if you're lying.”
She ignored her headache and pulled off her cloak and coat so that she could move her arms more easily.
There was a tray of food on a small table beside them. Draco sat up and speared a burnt sausage with a fork and began nibbling at it while Hermione was rapidly casting diagnostic spells on him. She checked his heart and other vital signs. She examined his blood readings. She cast a complex diagnostic on his left arm and carefully inspected every vein, artery, and major nerve. She spent several minutes siphoning away accumulating fluid.
She reached out and grasped the strap of her satchel, dragging it over before she remembered she could use summoning spells. She rummaged through its contents until she found all the potions she needed.
She unstoppered and held a potion out towards him. “This is antivenin that counteracts the blood thinning. I hope it's not a long-term effect, but in case, you should take this every twelve hours.” While he was swallowing it, she looked out the window, staring at the empty field.