"You can have my heart if you have the stomach to take it."

— Yves Olade

Thunder boomed and rumbled, shaking the very heavens. Yet it was not enough to cover the crack of apparition resounding through the hall. Draco gritted his teeth, not making a sound as he hit the marbled floor on one knee, bracing himself with his opposite arm. Rainwater dripped off brow and onto his bruised knuckles as the storm raged on into the night.

"Who's there?"

"It's just me." Draco straightened and stood to full height, his blond hair matted to his forehead. Lightning flashed briefly illuminating his shadowed face. Blaise's eyes widened, his wand lowering a fraction before his eyes narrowed and he straightened his hold. Pansy kept her wand raised as well.

"How can we be sure?" Blaise said in a steely voice. "How did you get through the wards?"

Draco's jaw ticked. He was already out of time. The more he waited, the more she was stuck there. "Wasn't that difficult to rip through them, trust me."

Blaise shifted in front of Pansy. "Even more reason — "

"I don't fucking have time for this," he growled, stepping forward. The Zabinis stiffened. He exhaled shakily."I need... your help."

Blaise blinked in surprise, his wand lowering along with Pansy's as she stepped forward.

"Draco what happened?" she asked slowly.

Draco's fist tightened, his breathing growing harsh. He tried to push it away but he couldn't suppress the rage and fear running through his veins.

His face crumpled. "They took her because I fucking left her."

Blaise and Pansy shared a look. "Draco, if they have her — "

Pansy was cut off by Draco falling to his knees. He tilted his head up at them, a dangerous and desperate look on his face. Rain continued to pelt violently, the clouds rumbling darkly as he knelt there like a repenting angel.

"Name your price," he said hollowly.

Blaise shook his head, still in disbelief. "No price," he responded with a concerned look. Pansy nodded in accordance. "But what exactly do you need?"

Draco's eyes shut, his voice raw, "I need you to help me save Hermione."

Draco startled from his sleep, sitting up and clutching his chest. His eyes screwed shut as he tried to get his bearings and recover from the memory of that night he had asked his friends to help him save Hermione. Draco blinked into the darkness, adjusting to the sparse moonlight from the threadbare curtain.

Once he felt more settled, he looked over at Scorpius curled next to him in deep sleep. Draco brushed his son's sleeping face before grabbing his wand and making his way out the room. On instinct, his feet carried him through the shadows. Upon reaching her room, he placed his palm on the door and relaxed upon feeling her presence inside, her light snoring calming his senses. She was ok.

Quietly, as he had done the past few weeks, he drew his wand. The incantation slipped naturally from his lips. He did not flinch at the small cut he made on his finger nor when he drew a symbol on her door. Blood magic. But it was more than that. The symbol glowed silver and faded completely into the door as if it wasn't there, but he could feel the magic spread and strengthen around her room. Draco relaxed. It was old magic, an ancient Malfoy protective ward that was the highest form of protection against anyone who sought to harm whom it was intended to protect. It was family magic.

***

Hermione took another sip of her tea, watching the Slytherins in the room as Pansy retold their mission with flourish. While Blaise and Theo looked impressed, Draco's expression was stonier and stonier by the second. Luna on the other hand popped in with the odd question about the presence of leaflers, which were apparently leaf-like creatures, too small for the eye, attracted to merriment and caused confusion. Hermione had no interest interrupting Pansy given that she had already recalled the mission for her report to Kingsley and Moody.

As Pansy retold the moment when the Death Eater had hit her, Draco's eyes flashed, a dark expression on his face when he searched her features for evidence.

"You didn't tell me you got hurt." The calm voice pulled her out of her reverie moments later as she felt the sofa dip by her side. She had not realized Pansy had finished her story time. When Hermione looked up, his face was anything but calm.

"Pansy healed it immediately," she shrugged. "I had it handled."

His eyes narrowed. "I know you're capable of handling yourself, but — " He opened his mouth as if to say something, then shook his head, abandoning his thought.

Before Hermione could respond, her attention was called to Theodore Nott who tossed a silver metallic object at her. The metal was warm, etched with runes. She could sense the faint trace of magic on it.

"What is it?" she asked, turning it in her hands.

"See the button on the edge?" he said excitedly. With caution, she pressed the button. A sharp whiz sliced the air as a sleek blade slid out. "It's goblin-wrought silver and has an interesting property of also being able to cut magical bonds, though we haven't tested it extensively. Luna and I have been tinkering with it as well — it becomes invisible, except for the user, when you touch the rune for invisibility."

"Oh and I've soaked it in bumbleberry juice — to repel the nifflers from taking it. They like shiny silver objects as you know. They even nicked my silver-wire earrings," Luna said as she straightened her bottle-cap necklace. Hermione cast Theo a questioningly glance to which he simply shrugged.

True enough, Hermione grazed the rune that looked like a flipped three and a yolk-like sheen encased the blade — she could see the blade perfectly, but just like a Disillusionment charm, others could not.

"I — I'm not really sure why you're giving this to me," Hermione said, puzzled as she looked between Theo and Luna who were simply smiling at her.

"Draco picked it up in one of the rooms in the building where you had been held prisoner. He gave it to me and Luna to fix it up so you could have it."

Hermione looked incredulously at the man sitting next to her, who, despite his nonchalant expression, was avoiding her gaze. "I just thought you should have another weapon on you, just in case."

The room was silent for a moment — Hermione could feel the curious gazes on them and she shifted uncomfortably at the attention.

"Thank you," she said quietly. He didn't respond, but she noticed the slight relaxation of his shoulders at her acceptance. She smiled to herself knowing he was likely expecting a fight, but she knew he was right. It would be good to have another weapon on her — she was not so arrogant to think she wouldn't need it. And also, it seemed to put Draco more at ease.

"How are the bombs going, Theo?" Blaise asked, finally breaking the silence. Hermione gave him a thankful look for taking away the attention to which he simply winked.

"Excellent! Luna and I should have them ready in the coming weeks. We've been working with George Weasley too on more creative weapons..." Hermione felt more relaxes as the conversation slipped into discussions about Theo and Luna's latest work.

As Theo and Blaise continued their discussion, with Luna chiming in here and there (much to Hermione's surprise, the Slytherins remained polite and indulged her) she felt the couch sink to her left.

"Where'd your broody bodyguard go?" Pansy smirked.

"He went to get Scorpius from his nap," Hermione gave the witch a pointed look. "And he's not my broody bodyguard."

"Oh right — overbearing mother hen, yes?" She chuckled at Hermione's scowl.

"You didn't have to exaggerate when you were telling them how that Death Eater hit me, you know."

"Granger! Are you accusing me of overplaying the fact that you indeed were slapped and left bleeding on the ground?" She sniffed indignantly. "Well I do admit that I was watching Draco's reaction but I wasn't exaggerating — maybe from your point of view it was nothing, but it was still frightening to me, Hermione," she said so fiercely, Hermione was almost taken aback. "Besides, you could have told him first."

She had a point, Hermione conceded. Pansy shot Hermione a self-satisfied look knowing she won.

"Speaking of telling people important things," Pansy began, her eyes lighting up at the sight of a narrow-eyed Draco with a sleepy Scorpius in his arms entering the room, "when were you going to tell me about these muggle jean shorts? That's what they're called, right? Really, Granger, you should have given all of us a warning for those legs and ass of yours," Pansy said a little too loudly.

Hermione inwardly groaned at Pansy's sparkling eyes as she tracked Draco suspiciously inching towards the throw blanket on the far side of the room.

***

The wind blew gently at the canopy of leaves up above, causing the late morning sunlight to dance on her face. Hermione felt at peace in the Cistrine forest despite being there for a scouting mission. The Order was currently in the middle of evacuating people in Hungary, which was the target of Voldemort's recent attack. With no people to spare, she and Draco were tasked to scout for clues based on the lead she and Pansy had found.

Hermione looked over her shoulder at Draco's pensive face. From his back, a little blond head popped up with wide eyes and waved his little fingers. Hermione grinned and waved back.

"You alright over there, Scorp?" she asked. The boy curiously gazed around at his surroundings from where he was strapped in on Draco's back.

"The fowest..." he began, furrowing his brow, "... is very very e-nor-mous and - and has many gween lizards!"

"Good job!" Hermione clapped her hands at his use of new words. Scorpius grinned back at her.

They headed a little further, not much sound except for the chirp of a curious sparrow on the branch and Scorpius humming a tune he made up.

"The clearing should be up ahead..." Hermione murmured, glancing down at the map whilst pushing a branch out of the way.

She paused at the sound of giggling and a suppressed scoff. Twisting around, she met a pair of amused Malfoys. "Why are you two laughing?" she said, putting her hands on her hips dignifiedly.

"There is sticks in your hair, Mini!" Scorpius burst out in laughs, his face turning red. Draco cracked a smile.

"Nice of you to make a home for the birds, Granger," Draco smirked. Scorpius giggled harder.

"Making fun of me both of you?" She tried to keep a straight face and pursed her lips before waving her wand and vanishing the twigs.

Draco chuckled. "A shame, what to do now about the homeless birds?"

"Perhaps your concern should be about a pair of two homeless Malfoys if you keep this up," she retorted, turning up her nose. Scorpius and Draco shared a look.

"We are sowwy, Mini! We behave now!" Scorpius called out then narrowed his eyes on his father. "Right, daddy?"

Hermione raised a brow when Draco glanced at her.

"Fine," he muttered, "we'll behave."

Hermione grinned triumphantly and turned. "Now," she said, taking a few steps into the clearing. "how about some lunch?"

***

"Like this, Mini?" Scorpius looked up hopefully, holding his lopsided flower crown. The weather was cool and sunny in the forest and the little boy had, with a very Malfoy look, insisted she take a break from writing her update report on their scouting task.

"Yes that's lovely, Scorp," she said, caressing the crushed petals before tightening some of the knots. She smiled fondly — it was her mother that taught her to make flower crowns. They had done it together whenever she'd returned home upset because the children in school called her names, called her a freak when odd things happened around her. She didn't understand it then, when her magic would cause the ribbons on her mean classmate's hair to come undone or the books would open whenever she passed by.

There's nothing wrong with you, love. Just ignore them. You can't control the way others think or feel, but you can control how you let it affect you.

"I wan wear it, Mini!" Hermione grinned, placing the little crown of wildflowers on his pale head.

She snuck a look at Draco who had his brow furrowed in concentration as he nimbly slotted the stems with perfect precision. He had a solemn look on his face, the same since he chose narcissus flowers for his crown.

"Jealous, Granger?" he said in an amused voice, without looking up.

Hermione immediately schooled her features. "Your spacing is imprecise," she mumbled. She ignored the shiver skitting up her arm when she grazed his fingers and tightened one of the knots.

"You're just upset I caught on quickly," his eyes lit with silent mirth. "You've always been a competitive little swot."

He merely chuckled when she began rambling, calling him names under her breath as she tied the last knot on her crown of dahlias.

"What was that?"

"I said you're still a pointy faced cockroach in need of a haircut — "

Draco bristled at the mention of his hair and began to run his hands through them. In truth, Hermione thought his growing fringe gave him a tousled look that she thought made him look less of an upper class snob. Over the past few days, she had found herself distracted whenever she looked up in the mornings at him joining her in the library to write reports or research — his blond-white hair tousled as if he had just run his hands through it. It led Hermione to ridiculous thoughts about the physics of hair and how it was possible for him to pull off a lazy morning hair look while she spent a good forty minutes in the morning taming her morning locks. She grumbled again.

***

"What are you doing!" Hermione gasped. She had just returned from refilling her bottle by the stream when she caught sight of Draco Malfoy on a rock with a transfigured pair of scissors, a hand mirror, and a few white-blond locks littered on the ground while Scorpius played with a few dandelions a couple of feet away.

"I'm sure your oversized brain can figure it out," he responded stoically, cheeks heating as he turned back to the mirror. Before he could even lift the scissors to his hair again, they were snatched by a small but strong hand. Draco looked up, only to be met with fierce determined brown eyes.

The witch lifted her chin and conjured a chair in front of her. "Well," she said, gesturing to the chair.

Draco looked at her incredulously. "Granger, if you think I will let you near my neck with a pair of scissors — "

"Malfoy! Keep butchering your hair like that and you'll be overtaking Dolores Umbridge with most horrible haircut — "

Draco sputtered. "I do not — "

"Well then be quiet and let me get to work!"

He glared at her, but obediently deposited himself on the chair in front of her. He hadn't gotten far anyways, only snipping a lock here and there — he was too cautious about taking any from the back.

The witch looked at his hair like an arithmetic equation she was trying to deconstruct. He felt uneasy. "Are you sure you know how — "

"I'll have you know, I cut Harry and Ron's hair while on the run — "

"And look how their hair turned out," he scoffed. "This is fine Malfoy hair, Granger. It's nothing like that messy nest of hair Potter sported or that dehydrated pile of hay the Weasel — Granger!" he yelped when she took a large snip of his hair.

"Oops," she pouted, not looking at all sorry. "I'm going to start properly now, Draco, so I would suggest not making any comments lest you want to lose all this fine Malfoy hair."

Draco merely glowered at her as she began. As Hermione made careful cuts, the atmosphere simmered into a tranquil silence except for the swift hiss of the scissors and Scorpius humming to himself. As she worked, he stole the opportunity to watch the way her brows creased in concentration. Her touch was gentle in contrast to her earlier ministrations. She ran her fingers along his scalp and he barely suppressed a deep groan when she gently tugged his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look up and bare his neck to her.

His eyes immediately fluttered shut when her body pressed closer. Without looking, he knew his knuckles were white from where they were gripping the chair's arms. All shutting his eyes did was heighten the smell of parchment, embers, and something floral, her smell.

"All done," she whispered. With agonizing restraint, Draco straightened. He opened his eyes, which on their own accord sought hers. She was looking down, dusting stray strands that fell on her muggle jeans, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.

"Well?" she prompted when he remained silent. His gaze shifted to his reflection as he lifted the hand mirror from his lap to his face.

"Not bad," he murmured, running his hands through his hair. It was trimmed neatly but not too short, making his features more prominent. "I would dare to say it surpasses Gilderoy Lockhart's hair, don't you agree?"

He looked at her, seeking her eyes, but she continued to avoid his gaze.

"Not even close," she sniffed playfully, heading over to Scorpius, not before he caught a smile on her lips.

***

The storm raged on like an angry beast, howling and wailing desperately. They had settled into their tent just as the storm hit. The tent wasn't large, but it was magically charmed to withstand the weather. It was tall enough for Hermione to barely stand upright in and wide enough such that they were not too cramped even with their unpacked bags.

For the last hour, Hermione had been writing notes in her journal about the observations they made, cross-checking anything from the books they could find, which was sparse at best. She sighed in frustration.

Suddenly, a violent crackle boomed through the forest, startling her along with a boy's scream. Hermione instantly drew her wand, casting a lumos when their lamp went out.

"Shh, Scorp," Hermione relaxed upon seeing Scorpius buried in Draco's chest. Draco glanced up at her and nodded, continuing to murmur soothingly in his son's ear. "It's just thunder."

Hermione's heart broke when the boy continued sobbing and shaking. "But - but no, daddy! The bad people! They coming!"

Hermione blinked, realizing he wasn't merely scared of the booming sound, but the fact that it was similar to a crack of apparition like that of Death Eaters.

"It's alright, Scorp," Hermione tentatively came closer. "It's just a thunderstorm."

She stroked his back and he twisted his head at her, eyes red from crying. "I'm scared, Mini," he said hoarsely, "I'm not brave."

Draco stilled, a pained look on his face.

Hermione's eyes stung. Gently, she brushed away his tears. "Being brave doesn't mean you are never get scared," she gave him a smile, "it means that especially when you are scared, you still face your fears."

Unconsciously, her eyes sought Draco's. Their eyes met, a thousand words swirling in that single moment in between the pale glow of her wandlight and the raging storm around them.

Draco blinked, looking back at Scorpius who had slightly calmed but was still shaking. "Perhaps it's time for bed."