It was freezing despite the warming charms Hermione had cast upon herself.

That may have had something to do with the fact that she was repeatedly shoving her hands into the icy water of the stream close by their campsite. She had finally had enough when it came to her dirty clothes that were beginning to fall apart due to the repeated scourgifies and had told Harry she was going to try to wash them herself.

Harry, who had been quiet and distant since the night where they had destroyed the horcrux, merely nodded and said he’d watch the campsite.

The only real conversation they’d had, had been a few nights after when they’d both been sitting outside the tent, huddled around one of her bluebell flames.

“Do you love him?” Harry had asked suddenly.

Hermione froze as she was turning the now worn pages of Beedle the Bard .

“Who?” she asked in a would-be confused voice.

Harry had scoffed, pushing two fingertips into the throbbing scar of his forehead.

“Don’t play dumb, Hermione – it doesn’t suit you,” he snapped.

She swallowed, marking her place before slowly closing the book. Preferring to look at the bluebell flame instead of what would eventually be his disappointed face, she sighed.

“Yes, I love him,” she answered in a small voice.

“So you lied to me,” he said softly.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Oh Harry, she thought, I have lied to you about so many things.

“Yes, I did.”

There were no apologies on her lips – she wouldn’t apologize for this, not for loving Draco nor for lying about it. She’d done what she had to.

“Why… why would you lie?”

Now it was her turn to scoff.

“Harry, you were running around the castle stalking him. You had just nearly killed him! What was I supposed to say – oh yes, by the way he’s my soul match and I love him?”

Harry gaped at her.

“Your… soul match? ”

She nodded, her face set as she finally looked at him. There was anger there, yes, she could see that all too clearly, but there was also pain – the hurt of having been lied to. The pain of looking at someone you thought you trusted and wondering if you know them at all. She could almost hear Voldemort’s voice echoing through the winter air.

You wonder if you truly know your companion.

“Our magic, it… fits together. Like we’re two sides of the same coin. From what I read it is most often referred to as a soul bond …” she trailed off, her heart aching.

It had been months since she’d last seen Draco and though they spoke through the journal, it was not the same as being with him. Her magic seemed to feel the loss acutely but how, she couldn’t quite quantify. It was as if a piece of her was missing.

“But he’s a –”

“Harry James Potter, do not finish that sentence if you know what’s good for you,” she snapped. “You do not understand the first thing about him or the Malfoys or the things they have done to help me – to help us .”

Harry blinked at her.

“What… what do you mean?”

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek.

“I can’t tell you,” she answered firmly. “If you want that information you’ll have to speak to Kingsley.”

After that, they had lapsed into a heavy silence that filled the majority of their days, only broken by their talks of where to find the next horcrux.

As she tried to rinse out her jeans from the soap she’d conjured, there was a crackling of twigs close by and her head shot up.

Someone was out there.

She froze for a long moment, eyes wide to take in every possible inch of the snowy forest she could. But before she could raise her wand to disillusion or defend, she saw a figure stepping through the trees.

The first thing she saw was the thick grey traveling cloak, fastened around the man’s neck with a silver snake pin. She saw the smooth leather gloves perfectly molded to his long tapered fingers, the shiny dragonhide boots covered in snow.

And as the material of his hood fell back, she saw the white-blonde hair of his head reflect in the weak morning sun.

“ Draco!” she cried, jumping to her feet and across the narrow river in one stride, closing the distance between them and launching herself into his arms.

He caught her easily, pulling her off her feet and burying his face in her hair.

“Hermione,” he sighed.

They stood there, clutching each other, relishing in the way their magic seemed to sigh with relief. His lips pressed against her temples, her cheeks, her forehead, while her hands smoothed over his hair, face, and shoulders.

“What are you doing here? How did you find us?” she asked quickly.

“I remembered what you told me about how Severus could find you and I just… hoped you were still here,” he answered.

As she looked at him, she noticed the deep purple bruises beneath his eyes from lack of sleep, the way his pale skin appeared sallow and almost jaundiced.

“What’s happened?”

Draco sighed, pressing his mouth against her temple once more.

“I’ve just been so worried, Hermione. And the Dark Lord, he… He’s been…” Draco swallowed. “Do you remember Professor Burbage, the –”

“Muggle Studies Professor?” Hermione finished for him. “Of course I do, I took Muggle Studies for a year… What…” Her voice died away at the haunted look on his face, at the grief that clung to the corners of his eyes.

“He… he fed her to Nagini… In our drawing room…” Draco choked out, tears clinging to his blonde eyelashes.

“Oh Draco,” she replied consolingly, pulling him closer. “That’s horrible.”

He clung to her, his face pressing into the crook of her neck.

“With all these snatchers popping up, kidnapping muggleborns and wizards on the run I just… Salazar, Hermione, what if you get caught and I’m not there to protect you?”

She shook her head, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I have my bracelet; I’ll make my way back to you – I promise.”

“I love you,” he whispered against her, his lips pressing against her neck more firmly. “ I love you, I love you, I love you .”

“I love you,” she replied as he pulled back to press his mouth over hers.

The kiss was desperate, frantic, filled with the worry and anxiety he’d held over the past few months. After what had happened with Ron, Draco had begged her to come home – to abandon whatever quest she was on with Harry. Never for a moment had she wavered in her decision though. She’d made a promise and this one she would keep.

As much as it had pained him – she knew it had – he’d respected her wishes. But now, as he deepened the kiss, his fingers frantically opening the buttons of her flannel, she could feel how much that respect had cost him. He carried her with him everywhere he went – and she him. It was heavy, so heavy when they had been without each other for so long.

Before she knew it, he’d pressed her to the damp ground, barely feeling the sting of the melting snow on her back as he cast a warming and impervious charm on them. Her body and magic had caught fire at his touch, at his desperation.

“Let me touch you,” he pleaded, fingertips skimming across the bare flesh of her stomach as he vanished his gloves.

“Yes,” she whispered, her hands diving beneath the thick fabric of his cloak, seeking him out just as desperately.

With the flannel finally open, her breasts lay bare to the cold winter morning, peaking against the wind before his hot mouth closed over one. She moaned, her back arching with the sensation as her hands clung to his back, trying to pull him closer.

Quickly he unhooked the button of the trousers she wore and she lifted her hips to help him slide them off before he settled between her thighs.

“Need you,” she whimpered as his mouth moved to the skin of her throat, biting and sucking.

His hand slid between them, parting her with two fingers as they circled her entrance. Her hips canted, body thrumming with need under his touch. It had been so long since she’d been touched in this way. Gently, without any of the franticness of a moment ago, he pressed two fingers inside of her, sliding against her wet heat while his thumb circled her clit.

“Please, Draco,” she moaned, her teeth tugging on his ear.

“I need to make sure you’re ready, love. I don’t want to hurt you,” Draco whispered in a dark voice, filled with longing.

Her answering moan had him groaning against her. She could feel his thick erection where it pressed into her thigh as he worked her slowly with his fingers, every now and then she felt the distinct sensation of him thrusting against her leg as if to relieve some of the pressure.

Something coiled tight inside of her as his fingers increased their pace, her eyes closed with the pleasure of it – brows furrowing as her skin began to prickle.

“Open your eyes, let me see you,” Draco commanded.

The moment she did her body shattered around him, his mouth covered hers – swallowing the sounds of her orgasm as she rode wave after wave of pleasure. Before she could register anything else, he’d slipped inside of her with a soft hiss.

“ Salazar … So tight, love,” he moaned as her thighs parted open for him.

Dimly she was aware of his cloak covering them, his trousers opened just enough to slip his cock through, and she moaned. Fingers scrambling against the skin of his back where his thick jumper was pushed up.

Their magic crackled around them, from the corner of her eye she could see golden and silver sparks as Draco’s thrusts increased in tempo. His teeth tugged at her bottom lip as she tilted her hips up to meet him in desperation.

“One more for me,” he hummed, pressing his hand between their bodies to circle her clit. “Give me one more.”

As if in response, her second orgasm hit, her body convulsing around him, his name on her lips as she came. Only a few moments later he followed her, his other hand digging into the skin of her hip, leaving bruises Hermione would cherish.

He kissed her softly as she stroked his cheeks. Their bodies still pressed together against the cold that was beginning to trickle through their warming charms.

“Do you think it’s possible?” he asked softly, his lips against her cheek.

“What is?”

“To destroy him?”

Hermione thought back to the horcrux, to the sword of Gryffindor leaning against the inside of their tent, to the screaming darkness that bled out from the locket as Harry had stabbed it – as if a piece of Voldemort was dying.

“Yes… and the process has already begun.”