“What do you mean Pansy is gone… She… she isn’t…” Hermione felt her breath beginning to move quickly through her chest as she reached for Draco, her hands closing around his forearms.

“Breathe, love. She’s alive,” Draco said, quickly realizing his mistake. “Her father convinced the Dark Lord to let her take the mark and… well…” He gave her a smirk. “You know Pansy.”

Hermione’s mouth popped open and she couldn’t help but grin back.

“What did she do?”

“Well… other than using some incredibly colorful language, she hexed her father until he looked quite similar to a crusty, four-legged slug, left a note for the Dark Lord essentially telling him where to stuff his mark, and fled the country. Rabastan found him and the note after she’d disappeared.”

There was a feeling of pride emanating from Draco as he told her and Hermione couldn’t help but feel it too. No one could tell Pansy Parkinson what to do and it was so like her to react in this way. She could practically see the indignant look on the witch’s face as her black hair swung around her face while she sent off curse after curse onto her father.

“I heard…” Lucius interjected quietly and Hermione moved her attention to him where he was staring mildly at his steepled fingers. “That she somehow got her hands on an illegal portkey to Japan.”

Warmth swirled inside of Hermione.

Pansy was safe – far from Voldemort’s reach.

“Oh, I wonder how in the world she got one of those,” Hermione quipped and couldn’t stifle her laugh.

“I truly haven’t the first idea of where she got her hands on one,” Lucius said in the perfect impression of innocence ruined by the playful wink he shot at her.

Humph popped back into the cottage, laden with a soft canvas bag full of food and healing supplies.

“Humph has Young Mistress’ supplies,” he said in his croaky voice. “Humph would like to know if Young Mistress would need him to occasionally bring supplies to Young Mistress. Young Mistress is much too thin.”

Hermione smiled warmly at the elf as she accepted the bag.

“Thank you so much, Humph. I wish I could, however my companions would not understand. But I will try my hardest to make sure we don’t run out anytime soon.”

Humph nodded.

“If Young Mistress needs Humph, all she must do is call.”

“Thank you, Humph. I will.”

The small elf bowed deeply to all of them before disappearing again.

“I better go,” she said regretfully. “I’m already late, though this will work by means of an explanation.”

As she rose from her seat, Lucius and Draco followed. The older man moved to take her in his arms, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Keep yourself safe, my darling,” Lucius said.

She nodded.

“I’ll try.”

When she turned to Draco, she wasn’t surprised to see the concern etched across his pale features. As they came together, she pressed her face into his chest, trying to breathe in the scent of him. She was sure, if she needed to, even just this memory of his smell could ward off Dementors.

“I love you,” she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you,” he answered, lips covering hers for a brief moment. “If you let anything happen to you, I’ll be holding you personally responsible.”

…

“Blimey, Hermione!” Ron cried as she made her way towards the tent. “Where in Merlin’s pants have you been?”

Hermione eyed the gleaming locket around Ron’s neck and bit her tongue. It wouldn’t do to snip back at him when he was wearing it. Ron seemed even more sensitive to the horcrux than Harry, who typically grew quiet and somber when he wore it. Though the horcrux made her feel a bit unsettled, it in no way impacted her the same. A small part of her worried that perhaps that fact did not bode well for her soul.

Hiking the bag a little higher up her shoulder she tried to smile at him.

“I got us food and more blood replenishing potion, as well as more dittany,” she answered.

Ron blinked at her.

“How’d you do that?”

She sighed, looking at Harry who’d just emerged from inside.

“There you are! You okay?” he asked, immediately crossing to take the bag from her.

Smiling at him gratefully she rubbed her shoulder where it had begun to ache from the heavy bag, wondering why she hadn’t cast a featherlight charm on it.

“Yeah, fine. I was able to get everything we needed, thank Circe,” she answered as Harry looked through the bag.

“This is fantastic, Hermione,” Harry beamed at her. “This should last us a good bit if we’re careful.”

Hermione bit her lip, nodding.

“Come on, get inside and rest while I cook us up some eggs,” Harry said, reaching for her hand while Ron scoffed.

“I’m sick and tired of bloody eggs,” Ron muttered mulishly.

“Well then, Ron, you can have some toast,” Harry answered in a slightly strained voice.

“But what about all the new food Hermione just brought?”

Harry sighed in a way she thought she’d seen Mrs. Weasley do on occasion.

“We need to use what we have before starting on what Hermione got. We’ve got to make this food last , Ron.”

Ron didn’t answer, just glared at where Harry still held Hermione’s hand. She could feel his stare on her back as they entered the tent and were out of sight.

“Do you think he’ll be able to apparate soon?” Harry asked quietly.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, helping Harry unload the groceries Humph had provided – including her favorite honey cakes, Circe bless that elf – while she thought.

“I think he should be able to. Perhaps we’ll talk to him about it tonight once he’s fed and he’s had the locket off for a while,” she said thoughtfully, handing Harry a carton of eggs to place in the cooling cabinet along with some pumpkin juice.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair before casting muffliato.

“Do you want to take first watch tonight? That way you aren’t alone with him in the tent?”

This question brought Hermione up short and her fingers slipped on the loaf of bread she was holding.

“What do you mean, Harry?”

Harry eyed the tent flap before looking back at her. An uncomfortable expression on his face.

“I… I’ve seen the way he looks at you… as well as the way you flinch whenever he so much as brushes your shoulder. I just… I thought perhaps you’d feel more comfortable that way. I know you don’t sleep when you’re in the tent alone with him and you need your rest.”

Something twisted in her chest as she looked at him. It was in moments like these – when Harry showed that there was still a truly good person inside of him – that made her so grateful, despite all the danger, that she was now working for the Order. Now truly on his side.

“Thanks Harry but… that’s all right. I don’t think anything will happen.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind just tell me, yeah?”

She nodded gratefully. Harry merely smiled at her before turning to light the stove with his wand and set about making them some dinner.