"We sit down

in the smell of the past

and rise in a light

that is already leaving.

We ache in secret."

— Rita Dove

Cold fog formed from her breathless lips, curling its tendrils around black thorned branches. Even without the foliage, darkness fell around her and Draco like a soft blanket, keeping them hidden from the view from where they were crouched. The wind nipped at her fingers only causing her to grip her wand harder. The forest seemed more awake in the darkness; the air humming with the soft beat of leather wings, curious yellow eyes watching from a hollow elder tree, and clusters of fireflies drunkenly floating like wayward stars.

"There," Draco whispered from her right.

From the darkness, a single flame sparked from deep in the woods. Hermione glanced up at Draco, only able to make out the outline of his face from the shadows of his hood. Slowly, a golden light illuminated from the rim of his irises, pulsing brighter and brighter like the morning sun. It burned and grew larger as if she was getting closer and closer to it. It reminded her of the stories her father told her as a child, of a man with wings who flew too close to the sun, a moth that was drawn to a flame, the same story, the same lesson that seemed to echo in her head again and again. She swallowed and turned her gaze back to the woods.

The flame — a torch — continued its approach until it stopped on the perimeter of the small clearing across from where they were hidden.

"Greyback," Draco hissed and shifted closer to her, bringing with him the smell of cedarwood, citrus, and winter air. Hermione blinked twice, focusing on the man before her, the man who had left trails of bodies — of men, women, and children — wherever he went. She had known his work, seen the wreckage he had left after every raid, the countless bodies mauled and marked with a savage cruelty of someone who found pleasure in mutilation and destruction. No, he was not a man.

Hermione's heart hardened as she gazed upon his marred face, waxy in the torchlight. He had accumulated more scars on his face, the marks of his victims fighting back.

"There's more," Draco murmured as pinpricks of light formed behind Greyback. There were around a dozen from what she could count. His pack.

Moments later, a boy, who looked no older than seven years old, emerged from the trees. Hermione had only gotten a glance at the boy's profile — a mousy little thing, reminding her of another boy with sandy hair and a camera. The boy was thin, clothes stained and dirty, slouched as he stood before Greyback and his men, his back towards Hermione and Draco.

"What new information do you have for me on the object?" Greyback sneered as the boy trembled and took a shaky step back.

"I... I — "

Suddenly a sharp crack resounded through the forest, the boy falling to the ground with a cry.

"Granger," a voice hissed in her ear as arms wound around her. Hermione's chest beat rapidly as she felt her own magic fighting for release. She knew they were outnumbered, but every bone in her body screamed to fight, fight, fight. The arms around her tightened, a cold cheek pressing against hers. "Stand down," he growled.

"I can't!" she whispered back, unable to look away as Greyback crushed the boy's wrist with his boot. "We have to do something, we — "

"Hermione!" Draco pulled her more firmly against his chest, rendering her immobile. "We have our orders!"

Hermione's gaze was ripped from the scene by a firm hand taking her face and twisting it away. More screams and cries followed, causing tears to flow down her cheeks onto his fingers. Draco's gaze flickered, hand tightening around her jaw.

"We can't win all the battles," he gritted out. Hermione blinked, her mind at war with her heart. He was right. It wasn't simply about being brave anymore — she had seen the consequences. Once upon a time she would have taken his words as that of a selfish Slytherin. But things were different now. He was different. She was different. She knew the cost of blind courage, and... she trusted him. He was her partner. If there was a way, they both would have figured it out. Hermione nodded stiffly, trying to compose herself. Draco looked at her a moment longer before releasing her jaw gently, both turning back to the scene.

Hermione trembled, watching wide-eyed as Greyback grinned at the crying boy then licked the blood on his knuckles slowly, one by one. The forest seemed to still then, the boy's whimpering echoing in the space as Greyback's followers chuckled.

"I said, what new information do you have for me, boy?"

"N-none, sir," the boy sniffled. His grey trousers darkened, liquid trickling down his ankles. He had wet himself. Hermione blinked back tears, feeling utterly helpless. The arms around her tightened and she felt Draco's jaw clench, his own magic fighting as well.

"Such a shame the Dark Lord prohibited us from going after mudblood and halfblood children. Now we only get the taste of muggle ones. Mudbloods taste sweeter," he grinned then crouched before the child. Greyback reached out with a dirty claw and slowly dragged it across the boy's face. Blood bloomed in rivulets as the boy whimpered. "No tears? Looks like we have a brave one," Greyback chuckled. "You would have been so fun break. Unfortunately, the Dark Lord has made his orders. Soon, however, we will have the war he promised. And when he accomplishes what he needs with you lot, you're all mine," he grinned, his followers following suit.

Draco froze. Hermione knew they were thinking the same thing. First the pureblood children, now halfbloods and muggleborns. It all had to be linked to the object the Dark Lord was looking for. And the vessels.

"P-please! Please let me go! I have no family. I can help. Just give me another chance. I'll have the information — " The boy coughed up blood after one of Greyback's men sent a kick to his stomach.

Hermione's vision blurred, her breath coming out shaky. They couldn't do anything. Nothing.

"You can play with him before we take him to the labs, but keep him alive," he ordered. Greyback's men leered and approached the bloodied child.

"Requiescat vita... non sit amplius dolor.... non sit tristitia... requiescat vita..." Hermione was jolted by the voice, only then realizing it was coming from Draco. She turned towards him, noticing his eyes concentrated, his lips moving rapidly. Her head whipped back towards the boy and noticed his hazel eyes widen and glaze over even as Greyback's men continued their assault. She was not sure what was happening, she did not recognize the spell. She looked back at Draco's blank face, a coldness in it that should have scared her, and perhaps it would have if it weren't for the way his body curled into hers, fingers digging into her almost desperately.

And so she forced herself to look back and watch with her eyes wide open while they continued to torture the boy. It was only a moment later when she felt it, some kind of soft release in the air as the boy's eyes dulled, a peaceful expression settling on his swollen face. Hermione stayed there until all she could see was his face, until every detail of his broken body was committed to memory, vaguely aware of fingers softly stroking her tear-stained cheek and a soft voice whispering in her ear.

***

"There's a battle coming," Draco intoned, his face marred with exhaustion but his voice steady and calm.

Moody grunted as he continued to pace the floor while Kingsley rubbed his forehead.

"But there's more," Hermione murmured. The two men looked up. "Greyback mentioned the Dark Lord capturing children again. This time experimenting on half bloods and muggleborns specifically. It's something to do with the vessel and experiments we found before, I am sure of it. But like we had suspected, there's a missing component, an object. They hinted that the Dark Lord was getting closer."

"We know he is weakening," Kingsley said calmly, his eyes calculating. "Those weapons they've been working on with the snake-humanoid creatures, the werewolves, it's a front because he's hiding something."

Draco stepped forward. "He knows he needs a new vessel soon. He cannot sustain his current form and go to war. It would be too reckless. If there's one thing keeping his followers loyal, it's power. Once his followers know how truly weakened he is, they will abandon him or turn to someone else."

"I'll send more scouts to trail the Dark Lord and Bellatrix," Moody grunted. "They haven't been spotted in weeks. Even his followers are growing restless."

Draco and Hermione nodded, then set out of the meeting room upon Moody and Kingsley's dismissal. Before she could round the corner, Hermione was stopped by a hand on her wrist.

"Hermione. Wait."

Hermione looked up, cocking her head at Draco's intense look.

"I want you know that if there was anything we could have done for that boy — "

His words were cut short when she stepped forward, his eyes widening fractionally.

"I know, Draco," she murmured and swallowed, the boy's face still vivid behind her closed lids. She looked away. "You were right. We couldn't have done anything without endangering ourselves, the Order, and even the boy. We can't win all battles."

Hermione's brows furrowed as the silence ensued then met his eyes again.

"That spell you did... what was it?" Draco showed no surprise at her question, as if he had been expecting it. She thought she imagined his fingers flinch around her wrist.

"It's a spell to help those in severe pain — those already close to losing their life — surrender to a painless death," he said carefully, watching her.

"And where did you learn such a spell?" she asked quietly. It was Draco's turn to look away.

"Severus." He cleared his throat. "When he was mentoring me for occlumency, we were in the forest and stumbled upon a doe that had been mauled by some creature. It could not be saved. He uttered the words and it died. Peacefully. When I asked, he said it was a form of blood magic, not wholly dark, not wholly light — one that asks for relief from the pain already inflicted and blood already spilled. A peaceful surrender."

Hermione's brow's furrowed, her mind whirring. She looked up at him again, her mouth agape but he cut her off before she could ask.

"Yes," he said firmly, his eyes hardening. "This was not the first time I have used it." His face closed as he straightened to full height and let go of her wrist. He looked down at her from heavy lidded eyes as if preparing himself. Expecting a fight.

"When?"

"Too many times," he sneered, his eyes lost to another time. "On the battlefield, in his throne room, in my home. The Dark Lord nor Bellatrix found out of course," he murmured, waiting for her judgment. But there was none. Only sadness. Sadness and something unfamiliar.

Understanding.

"You did what you could," she whispered. "There is a kind of bravery in accepting what we cannot change and not blaming ourselves for everything we could have done. You couldn't have done anything more, just like we couldn't for that boy. And I understand that now."

They stared at each other for another moment in tentative silence, no words needed to explain the darkness behind their eyes, no eyes needed to see the scars that ran too deep.

"Let's go home," Draco murmured, his gaze still focused on hers. Hermione dipped her head in assent then his hand slipped into her own and he disapparated them away.

***

"Tag! You it daddy!" Scorpius said triumphantly upon jabbing his finger into his father's thigh. Scorpius beamed at his father who feigned angry shock and giggled before running away on little legs. They had been playing the muggle game Granger introduced to them after seeing Scorpius restless inside the house. Draco had been skeptical at first but upon seeing the witch's challenging look and the (distressingly) twin look on his son's face, he decided to give in.

It was warmer now, the backyard of the safehouse cast in amber sunlight bringing to life the greenery. A cool breeze tempered any heat as Draco jogged across the grass, pretending to not see a small blond head and round silver eyes peeking behind a bush before ducking away. His lips quirked as he walked past the bush that was suspiciously shaking with giggles. From the periphery of his vision, he caught a flash of bushy brown hair and smirked.

There you are.

Draco switched directions and sped up, building momentum. Upon realizing she was found, the witch turned into the trees just at the perimeter of the wards. Draco took advantage of his long legs and began closing up on her, getting closer and closer.

Suddenly, she looked back at him, a wide smile on her face as warm sunlight struck her face and dripped off her skin like honey. All at once, everything was still. Her yellow dress billowed delicately around her form, a deep flush on her cheeks as she grinned from behind the curve of her bare shoulder. He felt breathless, as if all air had abandoned him as the image of wild hair, a reckless smile, and dark beckoning eyes forever etched itself into his memory. He swallowed.

Draco was broken from his reverie at the sound of a crack. Immediately, he drew his wand, as did Hermione. Scorpius ran towards them, wrapping his arms around Hermione's legs as Draco stepped in front of them, wand raised just as a group of five people appeared. At the sight of Kingsley, he lowered his wand and relaxed.

"Kings, what... " Hermione asked, trailing off at the sight before her. Behind him and Luna Lovegood stood Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and Theodore Nott. Hermione instinctively gripped her wand tightly at the sight of Slytherins, whom, last she heard, had sided with Voldemort.

"Stand down, Hermione," Kingsley's voice intoned deeply. "They're with the True Order now."

***

" — they've been cleared. Given they had not participated directly in the Dark Lord's plans, we have decided on a probationary period. Zabini has also made a binding agreement and offered to fund us through his offshore accounts as well as lend us properties in Italy as safehouses," Kingsley announced, arms behind his back.

Hermione watched shrewdly next to Draco. Scorpius had been put down for a nap just as they had gathered in the library. The three Slytherins sat on the coach, Luna on an old stool with a magazine she had pulled out of her old hat.

Pansy looked the same as she did in Hogwarts — shiny black bob, dark eyes narrowed in perpetual judgment as she scrutinized the room and lounged like a little queen on her side of the couch. Nevertheless, Hermione caught the hint of exhaustion and gauntness in her disposition as well as a tremble in her well-manicured fingers. Before she could observe further, Pansy's eyes settled on her sharply, a sleek brow rising in her direction. Hermione looked away.

Sitting close to her was Blaise Zabini — almost protectively, she noted. She had never interacted with the Slytherin before. He was always quiet in classes, but even from a distance, he held an artful grace to him that reminded her of fine cut silk. He too looked at Hermione, the edges of his lips lifting when Pansy whispered something in his ear.

Theodore Nott was another story. He looked almost... excited. His leg bounced and his eyes flitted on every thing in the room. He grinned broadly as Kingsley continued speaking, even giving Hermione a wink when she caught his gaze.

" — we've come to an agreement that Zabini and Parkinson will be stationed in Italy, overseeing the safehouses and resources. Having seen some of Nott's prototypes he's been working on, we've assigned him to work with Luna in her research and experimentation for the Order," Kingsley said. Despite Kingsley's assurances, Hermione remained skeptical.

"How did you guys escape?" Draco asked, the first time he had spoken since they had arrived. He still retained a guarded expression, as if unsure what to think. Though Hermione was aware they grew up together, their pureblood families close, she was unsure of how close they truly were. Back in Hogwarts, whenever she saw Draco, he was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle who seemed to function more as bodyguards than friends. But on occasion, she had seen him spending time with Parkinson, Zabini, and Nott.

"Really Malfoy, is that our welcome?" Blaise said with an amused smile. Draco simply rolled his eyes in response. Blaise grinned before adapting a more somber expression. "After the explosion of Malfoy Manor and your escape, the three of us took the opportunity to go into hiding in Italy," he began. "Since neither of us took the mark, it was easier for us to slip away. I have family connections in Italy and they agreed to hide us — they have different beliefs of blood purity you see."

"Why now?" Draco stepped forward, clear hesitation in his face.

"We were laying low, Draco," Pansy responded, placing her hand on Blaise's arm. Her lips pursed as she glanced between Hermione and Draco. "We — we weren't sure if the Order took you in or kept you prisoner so we remained in hiding until we heard rumors that you and Granger broke into one of the Death Eater manors in Italy."

"Left a right mess," Theo whistled, shaking his head.

"I'm sure you already know but the Dark Lord is getting desperate. The upper pureblood circles are finding his... experiments and dealings with creatures beneath them. The Dark Lord no longer seems to need their counsel or care about what they want. Bellatrix is his only confidant. That along with the disappearance of pureblood children before you left, well let's just say the purebloods are becoming more aware of their place as a means to an end. His end," Blaise said darkly. "The latest information I've gathered from the pureblood circles in Italy are that he and Bellatrix have been going into hiding, sending others to search for certain dark objects or ingredients. As for what it is or, more importantly, what it will be used for, I cannot say."

"A weapon?" Draco's jaw clenched.

"There are experiments with the werewolves and those snake abominations, yes, but this is something else. Something for himself." Draco and Hermione shared a look. Vessels. Blaise had verified their suspicions.

"Anyways, we thought we would have a chance of being taken in and joining the Order," Pansy said, inspecting her nails but watching them through her dark lashes.

"And why the change of heart?" Hermione posed the question firmly, narrowing her eyes at each of them. None of them seemed perturbed however, only curious. Pansy cocked her head in thought, Blaise looked at her as if coming to a silent conclusion, and Theodore surprisingly looked solemn.

"My father as you know has been in the Dark Lord's circle," Theo spat. "Father was quite fond of beating his sons, you see. He was a drunkard and a rapist. He beat my mother and never even thought I was good enough to be a Death Eater," he smiled coldly. "I found it quite easy to see how blood purity was utter shite having him as an example," he straightened the edge of his sleeve, "to see that the depraved acts and desperation for power to prove oneself was more ingrained in purebloods. And after all, weren't you all the proof we needed, Granger, that blood purity had nothing to do with power?" he said, grinning up at her.