Draco

"Well, I was going to work on my task today, but I guess I can sack it off for you."

And not being able to resist, Draco pinned Hermione down, kissing her neck, his heart lifting as she squealed and squirmed beneath him, her laughter to him like medicine.

Fuck, he knew he shouldn't be slacking off, especially when he spied the date on his nightstand clock upon waking that morning.

March the first.

Reluctantly releasing her, he watched as she climbed off the bed and sloped across to the bathroom, feeling the happiness evaporate out of him almost immediately.

Time was running out and he still had nothing. He knew Hermione was working hard to find a way to release him of his Dark Mark and, as grateful as he was that she wanted to help him, he really didn't think there was much point - removing the Dark Mark would not free him of this task, not when his and his parents lives were pretty much held to ransom.

He was letting his priorities slide for her, craving her company more and more each day. He was technically killing his family by putting his desire to be with her above everything else, and he knew it had to stop before something gave.

But he couldn't resist her, and he loved seeing her happy, and that he was the one making her that way. As long as she wanted him, he could never say no to her, never deny her a single fucking thing when she looked at him with those eyes.

He'd give her a couple of hours after breakfast, he told himself. Nothing more. Just enough time to cheer her up. He knew, after all, that it was the weasel's birthday, and even though she hadn't said anything, he could see the sadness in her eyes.

Jealousy twisted his heart. Stop it, he scolded himself. He hated that she missed Weasley, the boy who originally had her heart and was, in a way, still pining after.

But he just had to accept it. He knew how much the friendship with those two Gryffindorks meant to her even though they, in Draco's opinion, treated her like shit.

Yet, she'd need them when everything would inevitably hit the fan. Because he could not be certain he'd still be able to be there for her, not when his future was a grim, dark blackhole.

Stepping into the Great Hall ten minutes later, he noticed it at once - a strange atmosphere amongst the students, as though something big had happened... something bad.

"Tragic, isn't it?" Blaise said in a mocking, dry drawl as Draco slid into the seat next to him.

Confused, Draco followed his friend's gaze over to the Gryffindor table. He saw now that the Brown girl was sobbing hysterically, being comforted by Longbottom who had his arms wrapped around her. He supposed it was over the weasel, but he really couldn't care less.

He was more concerned over the fact that Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

Saying nothing, Draco pulled a papaya fruit towards him, smirking to himself as he began to tuck into it (for the second time that morning), when Blaise spoke again.

"Still, I suppose we should thank whoever decided to poison that mead. The world would certainly be a better place with one less blood traitor in it."

Draco choked on the papaya, accidentally swallowing a mouthful of seeds.

"What- what did you say?" His eyes watered as he spluttered out the question, thumping a fist against his chest to dislodge a stubborn pip from his throat.

Blaise turned his head to face him, slowly cocking an eyebrow.

"You haven't heard?" He drawled lazily, his dark, slanting eyes glinting in amusement. "Weasley almost carked it in old Sluggy's office. Drank some poisoned mead, the rumours are saying. Unfortunately, Potter saved his life. No doubt he'll be rewarded handsomely for his efforts rather than reprimanded, as he should be, for drinking alcohol on school premises."

Draco felt the whole world tip beneath him, his heart rising to his throat.

He'd forgotten about the fucking mead.

Abandoning his breakfast, he jumped to his feet, ignoring Blaise's curious enquiry as to where he was headed.

He wasn't sure what he was doing, or what he was hoping to achieve by going there. But he just knew he had to find Hermione, and he knew that she would have gone straight to his side, to be with him.

And he was right, he thought with an aching heart as he stood outside the hospital wing, looking in through the window of the door.

Her eyes were red rimmed as she gazed down at her unconscious friend. And he saw how much she still cared, saw how much she loved him.

It broke him. Because no matter how many firsts he had taken from Hermione, he would never be the first to have taken her heart.

That honour would always lie with him.

Fucking Weasley.

Dejectedly, he walked away, his mind whirring and coming to a heartbreaking decision about what he must do.

It was time to start putting his family first.

*****

He sat on the sofa and waited, knowing she would come, because even though she needed to be by Weasley's side for now, she would never break a promise to him.

His nerves grew as the clock ticked. He went over in his head what he had to do, wondering if he'd be able to go through with it.

But then he thought about his mother who was relying on him and solely him and he knew he had to go ahead with his plan.

Hermione, after all, had Potter and the weasel. She was tougher than anyone gave her credit for and that was why he loved her.

It wouldn't have to be permanent, he told himself. If they could get through this war... then maybe? But circumstances weren't likely, even in the unlikely event of someone defeating Voldemort, there was a strong chance she would have moved on, and if that was so then he'd leave her be.

When, at just after midday, the door clicked open, he found himself holding his breath, every nerve in his body prickled in apprehension.

He couldn't look up at first when she stepped inside, afraid that she'd see in his eyes what it was he was about to do.

When she didn't speak, he steeled himself and tried to make his voice work, despite the dryness of his mouth.

"Is he going to be alright?"

He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye.

"With a little bed rest," she whispered, her voice small and sounding nervous, "Madam Pomfrey said he will be out in a matter of days."

Silence. He swallowed, trying to gather his courage.

"Why did you do it?" She asked, surprising him with her sudden boldness. "Why send a bottle of poison knowing anyone could have drunk it?"

He lifted his face then, and finally looked at her. He owed her this, he realised, he owed her a reason.

"I was desperate," he simply said, his shoulders giving a little lift. "I'm sorry."

He actually saw the anger flit across her face; fury flash in her hazel eyes.

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HIM!"

"That was kind of the point-"

"Ron," she snapped, glaring at him, "you could have killed Ron, not Dumbledore."

He winced, not being able to control the painful twist in his chest.

Sighing heavily, she wrung her hands through her hair and began to pace the carpet.

He knew he needed to get on with it, but he couldn't bring himself to move from where he was sat on the sofa, wanting a few more moments at least. As she paced back and forth in front of him, he caught a waft of her perfume, and he realised with an agonising tug of his heart, that soon her scent would be all he'll have left of her.

Would she still detect him in Amortentia like he knew he would her? Probably not.

"Look," she said, after she'd taken a few steadying and calming breaths, "he's going to be fine, that's all that matters. No one got killed, and the mead has been dealt with.  So, let's move past this and concentrate on finding out a way to free you from the Dark Mark."

She was trying to fix things like she always did. But she couldn't fix him, didn't she realise? He was broken beyond repair.

"There's no point, Hermione." His voice was quiet, deadpan.

She finally ceased her pacing and gave him a long, hard stare. "What?"

His tongue darted out and swept briefly across his upper lip. "I said there's no point. I don't want to be freed from the Dark Mark, I'm too much of a coward to runaway. And besides, I've got to go ahead with this task or he's going to kill my entire family, Dark Mark or not, and I can't allow that to happen."

He couldn't look at her, couldn't bear to see the disappointment in her eyes.

"Draco," she whispered, her breathing becoming shallow and trembling, "you've had a setback, that's all. There's no need to give up, we can still find a way to-"

"Damn it, Granger, why the fuck aren't you listening to me?!"

He saw the crumple of her face as his words struck her like venom. And suddenly he couldn't stand it, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, what he wanted was to keep her safe from pain, to protect her at all costs.

Which is why he had to do what he was going to do.

Jumping to his feet, he swept across the room and pulled her into his arms, relief flooding him when she didn't pull away, but let herself fall against him. He could feel her heart racing wildly beneath her chest and he knew he was terrifying her and he hated himself for it.

He tilted up her face and began to pepper her face in kisses, determined to take away the hurt he'd just caused her, to put her mind at rest right up until the last moment.

But then his lips found hers and they were suddenly kissing, placing all the tension they'd just experienced into it. Hands were everywhere, grabbing and stroking at everything fingers could find. And he thought if he could hold her tight enough, then maybe he wouldn't ever have to let her go.

"I love you, Draco."

He froze just as his heart stilled.

Pulling back, he looked into her eyes, wanting to see the love in them. And there it was, full and passionate and true, all this love she held for him, right there in her eyes... in her mind.

And he was about to take it all away.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, his hands already shaking as he reached into his pocket for his wand.

Confusion flickered across her face, it hadn't been the response she'd expected, but he would give it to her, once she closed her eyes and he no longer had to look inside of them.

And when she did, he leaned his head down and pushed his lips against her ear.

"I love you too, Hermione Granger, never forget."

Which was an ironic thing to say because the next word that came out of his mouth as he pressed the tip of his wand against her head was,

"Obliviate!"

*****