A/N

How're you guys doing? I feel the need to ask because a lot of countries have been affected by covid-19. My country, Singapore, was one of the first few countries to have the virus, so we've had more time to deal with it. But what about you guys, are you doing okay?

I hope you're all safe and healthy wherever you are. You're more than my readers to me, you're my friends, my support system, and I would not be here without you. So let's have a great March together. (And hopefully finish Draconian. Because Astoria.)

x Noelle

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4 5

d i f f i n d o 

Rip to shreds.

THE FOUR SLYTHERINS were down in Knockturn Alley at seven on the dot the next morning. The streets were deserted, but Draco was keeping his eyes and ears alert for any activity nearby while the other three cast numbing and anti-disarming spells on themselves. They were donned in Death-Eater robes and masks, two things they hadn't worn in a long time. It provided an excellent cover, because only Death-Eaters could walk around at this time of day without anyone asking questions.

Theo looked pleased as he fiddled with his Death-Eater mask, a satisfied grin on his face. "You know," he mused, "we should really parade round in these masks sometime."

Pansy's eyes were gleaming as she thought about it. "We should definitely do that. We'll probably get a scream out of Longbottom and even Potter."

"If we're lucky – even the Weasel too."

Blaise hastily hushed them as Draco turned to leave first. There wasn't much time to lose, and Draco expecting his Mark to start bleeding any moment now. He had to get to the Peverells before the rest of the Death-Eaters showed up. Keeping his head down, he strode quickly past the closed shops and soon arrived at the White Wyvern.

The doors were locked with basic magical charms, as he'd expected, but he simply undid them and left the door open. He paused, waiting for the other three to step in before shutting the door behind them. Ignoring the rooms on the first floor, Draco climbed the stairs and walked straight to the last room down the corridor. It was the only room that was lit, a faint glow of light streaking through from beneath the ratty door.

This time, the door was locked from the inside. Behind him, Blaise, Theo and Pansy were completely silent, and he waved them back behind a pillar so that they were out of sight. He aimed his wand at the door and took a deep breath.

"Reducto."

The door splintered to a million fragmented pieces, and the people inside immediately scrambled to their feet. Draco stepped in calmly, his eyes roving quickly across the group, finally putting names to the ever-elusive Peverells that had held Hermione Granger captive for three whole years.

He'd already known that Alecto and Amycus Carrow were a part of the Peverells, and so were Yaxley and Walden MacNair. But he felt a sudden shiver race down his spine when he saw Antonin Dolohov – who was, in his own way, equally as ruthless as Bellatrix. And, last but not least – Rabastan Lestrange; and, by extension, a distant relative of Draco's.

Ignoring the cold chill clamping in his throat, Draco was the first to break the startled silence, taking a determined step into the room. "It's been a fucking while," he drawled, his lips curling up in his signature smirk, "I've missed you all."

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A sinking feeling of dread rushed through Hermione when she woke up that morning and saw that Draco's side of the bed was empty. As far as she knew, Draco was never up this early, and thanks to his injury and frequent bouts of nightmares, he usually slept in later than usual.

Dragging herself out of bed, she rushed down the stairs with a wand in hand. "Andromeda!" She burst into the kitchen, startling the older witch who had just started making breakfast. "'Dromeda, have you seen Draco?"

Andromeda's eyebrows shot up. "No, not at all. I thought he was still sleeping."

"No, he isn't!"

Without waiting for Andromeda's reply, Hermione rushed back upstairs, only to pause on the second floor when she saw one of the doors left ajar. Theo's room. Theo's door was never left open when he was sleeping. She strode towards his room, placing a palm flat against the door to push it wide open, her jaw dropping when she realised that Theo's bed was empty.

And completely unmade. But not the point.

Hermione had lived with Slytherins for long enough to know when something was up. Theo, being the loudmouth that he was, never went anywhere without telling the whole world where he was going. And Draco always told her where he went – even if it was merely to the Black Market to restock, or to the backyard with Teddy. Draco knew that she had always harboured a fear of him not returning, and he'd always made it a point to let her know.

But not this time.

Acting on her impulses, she went over to Blaise's and Pansy's shared room, rapping sharply twice. When no one responded, she grabbed the doorknob tightly, twisting it and stepping in.

Empty.

"Luna!" Hermione's voice was frantic now, and she was in front of the last closed door before she knew it. "Luna?"

Moments later, the blonde witch had opened the door, a sleepy smile on her face. "Hello, Hermione."

"Something's happened," Hermione said quickly, trying to keep her cool. "Get dressed, get your wand, and get the others."

"What's wrong?"

"Draco, Blaise, Pansy and Theo are gone."

Luna's eyes widened, and she quickly dashed into the bathroom. Hermione ran up the stairs and did the same. It didn't take her long to freshen up and pull on a clean set of clothes, brushing her teeth while simultaneously using her wand to bunch her stubborn hair up into a tight ponytail.

Heading back into the bedroom, Hermione quickly summoned her satchel, slinging it over her shoulder before going over to the study desk. She located the parchment – Draco had a knack of being fastidiously neat, which kind of made sense given his strict upbringing – and she held the paper carefully as she headed downstairs.

Andromeda glanced up worriedly when she stepped into the kitchen. "What happened?"

"Draco's gone," Hermione bit back the choked sob that threatened to rise in her throat and focused instead on the task at hand. "Theo, Blaise and Pansy aren't in their rooms as well."

Andromeda's frown deepened. She watched as Hermione laid the parchment down on the dining table, smoothing the ends out gently with her fingertips. "What's that?"

"It's – a work in progress. Blaise and Draco have been working on it for awhile now. It's like the Marauder's Map, charmed with the Homonculous spell, only it plots a far bigger area," Hermione explained, before tapping her wand to it. "Specialis Revelio."

Faint ink marks gradually appeared across the map, a map that had landmarks dotted with arbitrary signs, along with footprints tracing across every so often, each set of footprints tagged with a specific name. The number of footprints across the map was numerous, so much so that most of it was overlapping.

"You can trace people from here," Hermione continued, and Andromeda couldn't help but lean over the girl's shoulder to study it in curiosity. She practically had to squint to make sense of each label and each set of footprints. "When Draco couldn't participate in the previous few missions, he used this to track us from home and told us which places were death-traps that we had to avoid."

"Where is our house on the map?"

"It's unplottable. It's just like how You-Know-Who can't track Draco here. I think it has something to do with Grus's magic. But I believe we're somewhere here," she pointed to a specific area on the map. "I only hope that Draco and the others aren't somewhere unplottable, because it'd be impossible to find them."

"Not impossible," Andromeda suddenly reached over, pointing to a street labelled Knockturn Alley. "There they are."

Several pops of apparition sounded at that moment, and Luna and the others rushed in mere seconds later, all of them looking equally flustered. "'Mione – " Ron began to speak but Hermione held up a hand to stop him. The wind was knocked out of her lungs as she scanned the names in that same area.

Draco Malfoy. Walden MacNair. Theodore Nott. Alecto Carrow.

The names went on and on, the footprints all overlapping, making it impossible for her to see a particular name in its entirety. This wasn't a normal mission. They were out there battling the top Death-Eaters that had captured and kept her in captivity for the past three years. The blood rush to her ears, and all at once, it seemed like the worst of her nightmares were about to become a reality.

"Hermione?" Harry's gentle voice broke her thoughts.

She blinked, staring back at their worried faces. She'd always been an over-thinker, but at that moment, she was quick to make a spur of the moment decision. Draco was fighting for her, and she had to help him. "Get to Knockturn Alley. Now."

Time to face her demons.

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The startled silence reigned for about five blissful seconds before Dolohov had his wand aimed directly at Draco. "Malfoy," his voice was entirely cordial, which simply meant that his intentions were all the more deadly.

"Dolohov," Draco greeted pleasantly. His mind was working rapidly. He wanted nothing more than to kill every one of the six in this room, but there was something else he needed to do first. "How've you been?"

"Don't change the subject, Malfoy," he said sharply. It was evident that Dolohov was the head of this entire fiasco, and Draco almost swore at himself for not having guessed that sooner. Just because Dolohov was in Azkaban didn't mean that he didn't have a part to play in Hermione's capture. "You have exactly three minutes to state your intent before the Dark Lord's army finds you. That is – if I don't kill you first."

"You wouldn't," Draco said calmly, dragging up his sleeve to expose his Dark Mark, holding it out to Dolohov. "You're going to call the other Death-Eaters away – "

"Who the hell do you think you are, Malfoy – "

" – or I'll let the Dark Lord know that his most trusted Death-Eaters have been conspiring against him in search for the Deathly Hallows. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to know that you intend to kill him to gain mastery of the Elder Wand."

His words were met with furious silence. Yaxley, in particular, was seething and Draco purposely directed a smug wink at him.

"Understandably," Draco continued calmly, "I'm more than willing to make a fair trade. Get rid of the tracker," he paused, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and drawing out a familiar silver-coloured stone – the bait. "And I'll let you have this."

"Accio Resurrection Stone!"

Draco rolled his eyes at Amycus Carrow, the Stone still nestled perfectly in his palm. "Don't be daft, Carrow, you should know better that the Summoning charm doesn't work on this."

Dolohov laughed. "Malfoy, you're clearly overestimating yourself if you think that you can make a successful trade with the six of us when there's just one of you – "

He stopped when there came a sudden rustling sound from behind him. And Draco's heart sank in dread as he realised that Theo had blown their cover far too soon.

"Or," Dolohov's eyes were gleaming now, "maybe there are two of you. Crucio!" He hit the invisible Theo with a strong Cruciatus, and Theo dropped to his feet with a sharp yell.

The plan was quickly falling to pieces and Draco didn't hesitate to direct his wand at the huge table in the middle of the room. "Expulso!"

The table flipped across the room, hitting the two Carrows and Dolohov out of the way. The rest of the Peverells scattered to avoid the blasting spell, and the diversion was sufficient time for Draco to race across the room, reaching around until he felt Theo's arm and pulled him out of the way.

"Get out of here," he hissed, deflecting a curse that Yaxley shot his way. MacNair and Rabastan were kept busy by Pansy and Blaise respectively, both of whom had revealed themselves the moment Theo was discovered.

"I'm fine," Theo muttered through gritted teeth, dragging himself off the ground and removing the Disillusionment charm on himself, turning his wand on the Carrows, who had swiftly recovered and were now heading towards them. "Stupefy!"

But as Draco's Mark began to burn in a searing pain, he realised that they didn't have long. The rest of the Death-Eaters were on their way, and they had to take down as many of the Peverells as they could and get the hell out of there.

But these were not usual Death-Eaters, the six of them had instincts that rivalled his own, and did not hesitate to using the Darker curses. Draco kept his eye out on his friends as he duelled. Pansy had a terrible split lip and her left arm was twisted at an unnatural angle, while Blaise's mouth was bloodied. Keeping a good grip on Theo, who stumbled every so often, Draco fended off spells and shot back several hard-hitting ones of his own, only to have them deflected easily.

When he sent a strong stinging curse that slit a brilliant welt across Dolohov's cheek, the Death-Eater swore and dragged his arm across his face before turning on him. "Incarcerous!"

Draco, who was too busy fending off the Carrows' curses, didn't see this coming. In a flash, he felt thick ropes wind round him and he was dragged across the floor, his chest struggling to breathe against the weight of the curse.

Amidst Theo's horrified yell, he heard Dolohov's angry voice. "Give me the Stone, Malfoy."

"Come and get it," Draco taunted, neatly twisting out of the way as Dolohov shot three consecutive spells at him.

But the ropes were still cutting into his skin and he found himself at Yaxley's feet, a triumphant smile crossing the Death-Eater's face as he aimed his wand at Draco. "Cru – "

"Expelliarmus!"

Everyone paused at the unfamiliar voice. And Draco's eyes widened as Neville stepped into the room, his wand calmly aimed at Yaxley. Hermione was beside him, and Draco was even more stunned when he saw Harry, Ginny, Ron and Luna trail behind them, their wands all raised and poised to attack.

Yaxley was the first to speak, his eyes gleaming as he focused solely on Hermione. "If it isn't our favourite little Mudblood."

Hermione visibly flinched, the colour rapidly draining from her face, but she levelled him an even look. "I-I'm not afraid of you anymore."

"Of course you're not. You're just afraid of all those nights we spent torturing you until you were nothing but a pathetic, mewling quim, begging for a morsel of food or healing potion, screaming yourself hoarse like the worthless – "

But his words were abruptly cut off when Draco, having gotten rid of the ropes during the short period of silence, shot a spell that made him fall to his feet. "Crucio."

Yaxley's scream rang out in the horrified silence, and Draco's hands were around the man's throat in an instant, like a python ready to squeeze the life out of its prey. His vision was blurred with a fury that made him almost dizzy with adrenaline of the most toxic kind. The blood was pounding in his ears and he heard nothing else – not the horrified gasps from the others as they saw him use the Cruciatus so freely, not the flurry of hexes and spells as the fighting resumed – nothing but the choked sobs from Yaxley as the man struggled for breath.

"You sick bastard," Draco hissed, his voice shaking with anger as he stared into Yaxley's terrified eyes. "I'm not even going to grant you the privilege of dying a quick, painless death because you don't deserve it – "

But firm, stubborn arms were dragging him away from Yaxley in the next second. Draco saw a brief blur of Harry and Neville in his peripheral vision, prying him off a choking Yaxley. "Malfoy, don't!" Harry shouted, "he's not worth it!"

Draco shrugged Harry off him, vicious fury still clouding his vision. He was about to hurl another curse at Yaxley when someone charged right at him, completely knocking him to the ground. Rabastan. Then Dolohov and Amycus were joining in the scuffle, dragging Harry and Neville to the ground before either of them could even react, and Draco suddenly found the Resurrection Stone wrenched out from his pocket.

"Expulso!" Draco shot a curse at Amycus when the man pried it away.

But Amycus ducked, and the spell shot right at his sister, Alecto, behind him, who had been duelling Luna and Theo. Alecto was blasted back into the wall as Theo barely put out a shield to protect himself and Luna just in time.

"Stop him!" Draco yelled, trying to pry himself from the scuffle as the Amycus began to run out of the room. Ron, who was battling MacNair alongside Blaise and Hermione, quickly glanced over at Draco, who signalled him towards the escaping Death-Eater. "Get the Stone!"

"Stupefy!" Ron shot a stunning curse at the Death-Eater, who promptly fell over. And then Ron was hurling himself at Amycus, trying to wrestle the Stone from him as Ginny rushed over to help.

Draco twisted away from Dolohov and physically dragged the man aside. "Don't test me, you shit," he spat, gripping the Death-Eater's robes tightly. He dragged up his own sleeve and shoved the bloodied Mark in front of Dolohov's face. "Get rid of this. There are only two people who can do it other than the Dark Lord, and one of them is you."

"I'm not going to – "

Draco dug his wand into the man's throat. "Remove the tracker or I will kill you," he seethed, noticing how the other members of 17-65 were looking at him worriedly, thoroughly frightened by his behaviour. But he was just a haze of anger now, the anger a trigger scent that had set him off, spiralling him right back into the person he used to be before he found Hermione Granger. Cold, merciless and ruthless.

Dolohov's eyes locked with his. "You have to kill me first."

A furious growl of frustration slipped past Draco's lips as he slammed the Death-Eater against the wall. He wanted nothing more than to kill Dolohov, but he couldn't, not yet. Twisting Dolohov's wand away from his hands, Draco snapped the wand cleanly into two, dropping it onto the ground. Then he held his own wand to the man's temple. "Legilimens."

Dolohov wasn't fast enough to keep him out, and Draco had quickly located the exact memory he was searching for. He had a few seconds of reprieve before Dolohov was pushing him out of his head, out of the labyrinth of memories. With remarkable strength, Dolohov roughly shoved him away before disapparating on the spot.

"Shit," Draco was infuriated at having lost the opportunity to view the counter-curse for the Dark charm that had clearly been placed on him. He had been so close to getting rid of it, the last connection he had to the Dark Lord.

"Draco."

Blaise's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he turned around. He was startled to see that the fighting behind had ceased, his friends all gathered and ready to leave. Some of them still looked frightened by what they had just witnessed, but the three Slytherins were hardly bothered, and Hermione just stared at him with faint understanding in her eyes.

"We have to get out of here," Blaise continued calmly, "now."

"Fine." Draco glanced round at the destroyed room. Alecto Carrow was still lying in an unconscious heap, while Amycus too was knocked out cold. But Yaxley and MacNair had clearly disapparated before they could be caught, and so had Dolohov, mere seconds ago.

Then Draco noticed Rabastan Lestrange caught under a pile of rubble. Rabastan caught sight of Draco and spat out a mouthful of blood. "You're just like your parents – a fucking disgrace," Rabastan sneered, "and now you're siding with the fucking Mudblood – "

Draco was striding across the room before anyone could stop him, gripping Rabastan by his Death-Eater robes. "What did you say?"

"Bellatrix was right – she always thought your parents were snivelling lapdogs. Your mother was a traitor and a worthless shit, and your father was worse, he hid behind your stupid mother and deserved to die – "

"So did your brother – Rodolphus," Draco returned, fighting to keep his voice calm. His hands were clenched so tightly around Rabastan's robes that his knuckles were white.

"Rodolphus was a useless shit too, just like your parents. But you," Rabastan laughed mirthlessly, his eyes glinting in some sort of evil satisfaction as he noticed the way Draco's eyes darkened. "You take things to a whole new level. Toying with the Dark Lord, deceiving him for years, rescuing that filthy little slag after we broke her with the Cruciatus – "

"Thanks for reminding me," Draco's eyes glazed over into something entirely lethal, and his wand was at Rabastan's neck before the man could even finish his sentence. "Avada – "

"Draco."

Hermione's voice was soft and broke the trance that he'd sunk into. After so many kills, it almost became entirely too easy. Draco's head snapped up. He glanced over at her, focused only on her, the way she shook her head and lifted her hand, holding it out for him to take.

It was the way it had always been. She was light and he was darkness; and yet, like a fumbling, ugly moth, he was constantly attracted to the light even though he knew he would forever reside in some of the shadiest corners of the dark.

Climbing to his feet, Draco crossed the room and headed towards her, only to pause when Rabastan spoke again. "You're not even going to kill me?" Rabastan's tone was mocking. "Seems like living with your Mudblood whore has made you weak."

Draco's face was impassive as he stared at Rabastan. "Survive this," he said quietly, and turned his wand on Rabastan. "Diffindo."

He grabbed Hermione's hand as the two of them disapparated, Rabastan's shrill screams a never-ending loop echoing in his ears as the Death-Eater's flesh ripped to shreds.

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There was a tense silence that greeted Hermione the moment she found herself back at Andromeda's with Draco. The rest had already apparated back and for a moment, no one spoke. Hermione could see that, apart from the Slytherins and perhaps Luna, the rest of them were more than disturbed by what they had just seen.

Draco's grip on her hand was far too tight, almost desperate. He placed a brief hand on her hip to steady her in the after-effects of their side-along apparition, but once she had regained her balance, he snatched his hands off her as though her touch had scorched him. Then he was storming off, heading up the stairs without so much as a backward glance.

Hermione wanted to follow him, but faltered when she noticed how cut up Theo and Pansy looked. Her unwavering sense of duty won eventually, and she silently went to the kitchen to put together a tray of healing potions. She heard the group talking in the background – Ron wanting to know what happened while Blaise seemed more than grateful for the help. Ginny was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that Draco could so easily use the Unforgivables without so much as blinking, while Pansy was adamant that it was necessary at a time like this.

But when Neville suggested that the Order wouldn't like to hear about what Draco had done, Theo was on his feet in a flash, his lips curling in aggravation. "You're not working for the Order now, are you, Longbottom?"

"Well, technically – "

"Yes, we get it, you're the new Chosen One, you're still the Order's puppet. But this mission had nothing to do with the Order. It was just plain old-fashioned revenge, Slytherin-style."

"But that's not how the side of good fights – "

"Case in point – we're not good."

Hermione hurried back to the living room, the tray of healing potions in her hands. She nudged Pansy to sit so that she could see to the girl's bruises, while Luna did the same for Theo. As she waited for Pansy to drink one blue-coloured potion, she turned to Blaise, murmuring something into his ear. He nodded grimly and quickly pushed himself off the sofa, heading up the stairs two steps at a time.

After he was gone, she turned to Neville, her voice quiet but firm when she spoke. "Draco did it for me," she held up a hand when he began to protest. "I'm not saying it's right. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel like doing the same myself."

"Actually," Ron interjected, the light in his eyes surprisingly understanding. "This makes sense. Don't get me wrong – I'm not a cold, cruel wank like Malfoy," he added, unable to help himself, and grinned when Hermione shook her head at him in silent mirth. "But there are times when I'm on the field, and I'm trying to take down a Death-Eater with light hexes, but sometimes you just want them gone, you know? Not just from that battle, but – forever. So instead of a stunning hex, I sometimes find myself using hard-hitting spells."

Ginny leaned forward, a troubled frown on her face. "But when you use a Crucio, like Malfoy did earlier, you actually have to mean it, or it doesn't hurt. So..."

"You're insinuating that Draco has a sadistic, bloodthirsty streak in him?" Pansy deadpanned. And when Ginny flushed and nodded, Pansy simply shrugged. "Well, yeah. What did you expect? He was practically raised by Bellatrix for the entire of his Death-Eater career."

"War brings out the worst in good people," Luna interjected, and Hermione smiled. She couldn't have phrased it better herself. "So does love," the blonde witch added innocently, and that was when Hermione promptly blushed a brilliant shade of red.

"Gotta agree with Lovegood there," Theo grinned, clearly sensing Hermione's discomfort and revelling in it. "I've never seen Draco so ruthless before. I guess all is fair – and cruel and hot and animalistic – in love and war...ow!" He swore under his breath when Hermione purposely pressed her thumb down hard on one of his bruises.

Harry, on the other hand, simply chuckled. "Did you just quote from a Muggle poet?"

"Blame Red. She quotes from all these fucking weird books that Draco gets for her from the Black Market, and most – if not all of them – are from Muggle authors."

Blaise came down the steps at that moment and he settled back down beside Pansy, reaching forward to lay a phial on the coffee table as per Hermione's earlier request. Hermione set aside the potions for the time being and picked up the phial, studying it with a thoughtful look on her face.

"You can all view this in the Pensieve upstairs," she started quietly, "this phial contains all my memories during the three years I spent in captivity. And if you don't feel the slightest bit of that hot rush of violent anger after viewing it, then you can tell the Order what Draco did. But you will have to tell the Order every bit of what those Death-Eaters did to me, recounting every single memory in great detail."

Her eyes roved round the group. Neville looked sufficiently chastised while Ginny was subdued. Ron, on the other hand, was pale with guilt, but Hermione shook her head at him, mouthing the words 'you don't have to'. He immediately let out a sigh of relief.

"We're not telling the Order anything," Harry cut into the silence, placing a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Believe me – I've seen Hermione's memories and I felt the same way Malfoy did when I saw the Death-Eaters earlier. I just didn't act on it."

Harry's voice was cool and authoritative, and she suddenly saw why people thought him fit to lead the battle three years ago. She reached up to give his hand a grateful squeeze and sent a warm smile in Ron's direction, glad to have the both of them on her side in this matter.

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She found Draco sitting on the floor beside their bed, his elbows braced on his knees and head buried in his arms. It was his posture, perhaps, the way he cut a sorry, forlorn figure as he sat on the stone cold ground that made her heart clench painfully.

Hermione shut the door behind her, casting muffling charms on the room and headed towards him. She reached out to touch his arm, but the moment her fingers made contact with his skin, he jerked up and pulled away, silver eyes hard and almost haunted.

"Don't."

This wasn't new. She remembered how he'd acted the same way back when he'd been forced to use the Cruciatus under You-Know-Who's orders. He was working himself into a guilt-ridden, self-loathing haze, the monsters in his head once again overwhelming every and any monster out there in the world.

Slowly, tentatively, she took another step closer to him. If he'd been a predator earlier, then he was the prey now. It was like approaching an injured, wounded animal, and she held out a hand to him, waiting for him to make the first move. "Give me your arm."

"Hermione – "

"I could wait here all day if I have to. Your arm, Draco."

Reluctantly, he lifted his arm, and Hermione fought the urge to flinch when she saw the bloodied scratches across his Dark Mark, the inflamed skin around it and the bits of his flesh actually gouged out, like he was trying to physically rid himself of the Mark through magic. Instead, she bit her lip and went about trying to fix his arm using the tray of medicine she'd gathered from the kitchen earlier.

But the moment she was done binding it up, he pulled away from her again. He began to pace, rapidly, disjointedly, running shaky fingers through his hair and blinking hard, as Hermione stood up and watched him unsurely.

"I can't fucking get him out," his voice sounded almost strangled when he spoke. "For years, I've been working for him. And now that I'm finally out, away from him, he still somehow manages to fucking control me."

"I know."

"His magic is literally in me. Hermione," and his eyes flickered to hers now, desperate and pleading, "I have to get it out. This – this fucking connection, I have to end it somehow. I would literally cut off my fucking arm if it means getting him out of my system."

"Draco, just because your Mark is active and has a special connection with You-Know-Who, it doesn't mean that you're just like him."

"Actually, I think I am. Did you even see me earlier? If you hadn't stopped me earlier I would've killed Rabastan without blinking."

"Honestly? I wanted you to kill him." Draco's eyes flew to hers and she smiled softly. "But I also know that you ruin a part of yourself when you kill. And he wasn't worth it. None of them are. Just you."

"I'm not worth it, Hermione."

She ignored the self-loathing in his voice and leaned forward to kiss him gently, relishing the way he let out a throaty groan in response. "Anything," she promised against his lips, knowing perfectly well that he would do the same for her. "To the moon and back."