Reveals human presence.

remember the Order.

"Shit."

Draco paced the room, his mind reeling. He'd been searching for Hermione for two reasons. The first was that he owed her this much. He could still remember her screams when his bloody Aunt tortured her in Malfoy Manor. So when he first heard from his Aunt Andromeda that Hermione Granger, one of the most brilliant witches and one-third of the Golden Trio, was missing, he immediately took it upon himself to find her.

Because no one else did.

Draco didn't understand why. He didn't understand why it was so damn difficult to send out a search party every night to find the one witch who was the best friend of the Boy Who fucking Lived. Andromeda told him that it was because the Order was in a mess.

His lips curled now but it was a smile of bitterness. Of course it was a mess. After Potter had been defeated, he and the Weasel had gone into hiding. Hermione had been snatched away. And the rest of the Order scattered to save their lives.

It was only about a year-and-a-half ago that Andromeda told him the Order was beginning to reassemble. She believed that the return of Hermione Granger would give them hope.

Draco didn't buy the nonsensical notion of hope, but he'd do anything for his Aunt, who had become his guardian after his parents were killed. Thank Merlin Bellatrix was insane and didn't qualify to be his guardian. Draco didn't know if he could stand living with the woman without killing her himself. The only reason he kept her alive for so long was because the Dark Lord considered her his longest ally, even if she wasn't of much value anymore.

But Hermione and hope somehow no longer fit into the same sentence, considering that a large proportion of her memories seemed completely wiped out. Like a clean slate; she seemed to have no memory of the Order, or of the way he'd treated her in the past, or even of saint Potter and Weasel.

And much as he thought that Potter and Weasel were a pair of useless fools, the suspicion that Hermione had forgotten them sent his head reeling with despair and desperation.

The war needed to end.

The four of them in this household (with the exception of Hermione, who clearly only possessed vague memories now) were adamant on that. It was the only reason why they each continued to live, in their own various self-destructive ways. Blaise with his numbing spells and potions, Pansy with her lethal kinks in the bedroom, Theo with his slags and alcohol, Draco with his guilt. They stayed alive because they had a purpose, and the purpose was to end the war.

The easiest option was to return Hermione to Potter. That was the other reason he'd been looking for her. But he didn't want to. Not when she was like this. Not when she was screaming in the silence, conjuring imaginary monsters and tripping over her sentences. Not when he hadn't found out the truth behind her abduction or her memories.

And not when he wasn't ready to let her go.

Draco settled down onto his chair with a sigh, resting forward so that his elbows were braced on his knees. He stared at the healing blisters on her skin and the fading bruises and the traitorous scars. He stilled when she murmured his name in her sleep, and instinctively reached forward and laced his fingers between hers. She automatically curled hers tightly around his, and pulled him closer to her.

Not yet.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione awoke the next night when Draco's phial began to burn. She sat up with a gasp and reached for it. Holding the phial between her fingertips, she looked at the glowing embers.

The word triggered something unusual in Hermione's head and she felt her breath hitch in her throat. Luna. Luna. "Luna," she whispered in the dark, testing the syllables out on her tongue. It seemed far too familiar, like from a distant daydream she once had.

But then she caught sight of the remaining phials on Draco's desk. They were glowing too. She quickly squeezed the hand that she was already holding. "Draco?"

His eyes shot open. They were cold at first, until they fixed on her. "Granger, what's wrong?"

She held out the phial to him. "Luna."

His gaze latched onto the phial for a moment or two, before he bolted up. "Shit." He pushed the chair back with a rough scrape and wordlessly summoned his wand. "I have to check up on something – just give me an hour, or two."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Will you be...safe?"

"Yes, of course," he started, only to pause. "You're not going to like what you hear, Granger. But I can assure you that no one is getting hurt. So – don't panic."

She swallowed and nodded. If this was something he had to deal with, then at the very least, she could summon up the courage to listen to it. His gaze softened as he looked at her, but just fleetingly, before he strode to the door.

When he opened it, screams filled the air.

Draco shut the door behind him, well aware that Hermione could still hear everything. The living room was in a state of chaos. Pansy writhed on the floor, shrieking in obvious pain, and Blaise shot daggers at him.

"Where the hell were you, Malfoy?" Blaise bellowed, sounding well and truly pissed. And Draco knew he was. Blaise never called him by his surname unless properly annoyed.

"Sleeping," Draco snapped, and pinned Pansy down with a flick of his wand. "Where's the potion?"

"Theo's getting it ready. THEO! Hurry up!"

"You know it doesn't brew instantly, you tosser!" Theo yelled back.

Blaise let out a frustrated noise. "If you had made the potion like I told you to and if Draco had woken up on time and if Pansy had checked the calendar then we wouldn't be in this sodding – "

"Oh, how about if you had actually been there to protect your girlfriend – "

"Go to hell, Theo – "

Draco hit the three of them with Silencios. "Calm yourself, Zabini," he said. He hated that Hermione could hear every damn thing. "We've got it all covered. Portkey, potion, her bag. We've done this before. She'll be fine."

Blaise let out a shuddering breath when Draco removed the silencing charm. "I know, mate. I'm sorry."

He nodded. He knew exactly how his friend felt. It had to be the same pang of helplessness that tightened in his chest every time he looked at Hermione.

When Theo finally rushed out with the potion, Draco lifted the silencing charm on Pansy. Once again, the room was filled with her agonised screams. He pinned her legs down with an immobulus charm and handed the potion to Blaise. "Make sure she drinks every drop," he directed, as he reached for the portkey.

Theo took that as his cue to leave. "Wake me up when it's my turn."

Blaise shot Draco a look both grateful and pleading at the same time, and he nodded. "She'll be fine."

"I was worried about you, mate. First watch is always the hardest."

Draco lips quirked as he placed his and Pansy's hands on the portkey. "That's why I take it."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hermione was tracing a finger on the covers when he returned. Her eyes widened when she heard the door click shut, and she quickly climbed up.

"Draco," she breathed. He let her latch onto his jumper, trying not to shiver when she pressed her face against his chest. After a few moments, she drew back with a frown. "You're freezing," she said and reached for his hand, bringing it to her lips.

Her warm breaths were welcoming, but then there was the problem of how close her lips were to his skin. And for a wild, irrational moment, Draco thought of how her lips would feel against his skin. Or not just on his skin, but on his lips too.

Fuck. This was dangerous territory and he had to tread carefully. He pulled away from her and sat down on the bed. But when he noticed the wide-eyed look on her face, he quickly held his hand out again. "What were you doing earlier?"

A tiny smile flit across her face and she reached for his hand. "I-I was spelling."

"Spelling?"

"Yes. See," she flipped his hand so that the back of his hand was on her knee, and her finger was hovering unsteadily over his palm. Taking a deep breath, she slowly spelt out the word she had seen earlier. "L-U-N-A. Luna." She lifted her eyes to his silver ones. "It – it means moon, doesn't it?"

"How did you know that?"

"I – " and Hermione frowned, her gaze seemed distant. " – I don't know. It's a very familiar word, but I just – I can't remember where I – "

"Granger, it's fine," he quickly cut in, when her breathing began to become shallow and sporadic, the fear gripping her eyes once again. "You're right, by the way. Luna means moon in Latin. Luna plena – full moon. There's a full moon out tonight."

"Is there?" She spun round to look out the window.

Draco watched her silently, taking in her long lashes and stubborn nose, the blissful turn of her lips and the wild brown curls that tumbled over her shoulder in disarray. He'd always thought Granger pretty. No point denying that now.

But this had to be the most beautiful version of Hermione. The moonlight on her face and the shadows that never eclipsed her. It was a Hermione who was untainted by the ghosts of her past and had no fear of the future, simply because she'd forgotten.

He didn't realise that she was speaking to him until her fingers tightened around his. "What?"

"I was asking – what's wrong with Pansy? Is she hurt?"

"No, she's fine. She's just – " Draco found the next words so hard to say. Coming to terms with the truth about Pansy had never been easy. Saying out loud was even harder. It was raw and painful, one of the greyest spots in his life.

To his surprise, Hermione dropped his hand. He watched her with wary eyes as she knelt on the bed, tucking her legs beneath her and reached towards him, sliding a tentative hand up his shoulder. She seemed to be holding her breath just as much as he was. And when she curled her fingers around the nape of his neck, sliding them up into his snow-blonde hair, Draco let his eyes fall shut.

He let her sweet scent invade his senses as she reached over with her other hand, drawing it across his other shoulder before curling around his neck. And then she was pulling him gently towards her, and he felt her hot breaths against his skin, calloused skin against his own. He wanted to flinch away and lean into her all at once. His skin was frosted cold and hers was the warm of lazy summer days. He felt her lips suddenly press against his temple and he stilled, memorising how it felt and wanting nothing more than to feel her lips on his skin again.

"Draco?" Hermione breathed against his skin. He shuddered and curled his fingers into his palms to keep from reaching out to her. "Is she safe?"

It took him several moments to realise that she was still talking about Pansy. Draco opened his eyes to meet her gaze. "Yes."

And when Hermione smiled against his skin, he felt his heart stutter, and thought to himself that he was well and truly fucked.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Draco did not like the look Pansy gave him the next morning at breakfast. She was watching him from the corner of her eye, smiling innocently when he glared at her and humming annoying little tunes. Blaise and Theo seemed oblivious to all that was going on, but Draco had a feeling that Pansy knew something was amiss. Damn her. Nothing ever escaped her eye.

Blaise and Theo eventually left for work, but Pansy had remained in the living room. Bright green eyes studied him from her spot on the sofa, still humming a ridiculous tune to herself.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Why aren't you at work?"

She smiled sweetly. "Well, I told Blaise I had a bit of a headache and he promised to cover for me. And you?"

"Perks of being the favourite Death-Eater, remember? I can go to work whenever I want."

He returned back to the room, only to stiffen when he heard her get up behind him. This wasn't a good sign. She was the one with a nose like a bloodhound. Ignoring her, he quickly undid the locks in hopes that he could slam the door shut in her face.

But he wasn't quick enough. Just as the locks were undone, a stunning curse hit him in the back. He stumbled into the room, head-first, unable to do anything to break his fall. Vaguely, he registered Hermione's startled gasp, followed by Pansy's next spell.

"Aresto Momentum."

His body slowed and he sprawled onto the floor. He couldn't believe he was actually stunned and tossed around like a bloody ragdoll by sodding Parkinson.

"Rennervate."

Draco pushed himself up and whirled around to face her. His gaze could kill and a hex was already on the tip of his tongue.

But her eyes were gleaming, and she surveyed first him, followed by Hermione with a smirk on her face. "I knew I smelled a Gryffindor last night."