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Draco darts around the corner of the dungeons, barely missing a hex from one of the Patil twins. He can’t make out anything in the haze of smoke from the wreckage of the castle around him and doesn’t have time to check which sister is trying to kill him.
His lungs are on fire, burning in his chest, as his feet carry him faster than he thought possible. Draco knows he shouldn’t be here, in fact, he explicitly agreed that he would not be here but listening has never been his strong suit. He hopes his Mum forgives him. Though he already knows the witch he’s running towards will have words for him. At the moment, any words she says would be a warm relief because it would mean she’s alive.
This war has taken too much from him, he will not let it take her too. He needs to lay eyes on her, make sure she’s safe and then keep her that way. No longer can they be separated by the guise of secrecy, Draco refuses to be a coward anymore. Perhaps he’s been spending too much time around a certain trio of Gryffindors. Since he is actively flinging himself head first into danger without much of a thought for his own safety, he would say his witch has rubbed off on him.
His point is proven as he hears the beginning of the killing curse, which he barely misses, ducking as a green spell hits the wall behind him, inches from where his face just was. Risking a glance at the sender, he sees one of the Weasley clan with a murderous look in his eyes sprinting toward him. He’s almost certain it’s George Weasley, but he doesn’t stick around to confirm. Off in the other direction, until he’s able to hide in one of the many alcoves the castle has to offer as protection while he catches his breath.
Waiting a few seconds to ensure he is truly not being followed, he is finally able to pull the chain from under his shirt. Taking the pendant between his two fingers, he presses firmly and the delicate chain lifts from his fingers, tugging in the direction of its twin. The necklaces had been his idea, but only with her spellwork did they truly succeed in their purpose of always being able to find one another. This was invaluable during their rendezvous over the better part of the last year. Draco lets the familiar small silver circle with a tiny engraved G guide him through the castle, doing his best to avoid the skirmishes throughout the halls. Remarkably, he makes it to the third floor unspotted when he hears her voice up ahead. He breaks into a run at his favorite sound.
The moment he sees her, he knows it’s all worth it. Though he knows logically he’s been taking breaths, he is positive he doesn’t start breathing till he takes her in. Scanning every inch of her, she is beautiful, even covered in ash and debris from the crumbing castle around them. All that matters is that she is alive and she is his.
She is in the middle of a duel with a masked death eater and winning from the looks of it. No surprise there, he’s been training her for this battle since the moment he turned against The Dark Lord. Keeping it a secret from The Order had been a strategic move, only High Order members along with Harry, Hermione and Ron knew he was a spy. He’d been aiding them in the Horcrux hunt and unintentionally falling in love with the witch before him.
As Hermione is about to deliver what appears to be a stunner from the beginnings of her wand movement when she stops suddenly, freezing mid-motion as she spots him. To Draco’s horror, this gives her opponent a moment to recover but he’s faster on the draw. A well placed slicing hex flies from his wand followed by a body bind incapacitates their enemy. When he looks back to Granger, it seems she’s the one stunned.
Her expression turns from shocked disbelief to rage filled with such swift ferocity, Draco takes a step back. She is stomping towards him with purpose, wand at the ready, the danger of war all but forgotten. Draco knows the sight shouldn’t bring him so much pleasure but he somehow loves Granger even more when she’s pissed at him, which is often. Rather than using her wand, she pockets it and pushes him with both arms. Hard.
“Draco Lucius Malfoy! What in Merlin’s name are you doing? Y-you shouldn’t be here. You promised!” she yells in his face, her voice seeped in accusation.
Unwillingly, or perhaps out of habit, his lips tilt up into a smirk as his back hits the wall. This is how they had their first kiss, her shouting at him till he shut her up.
“I know, I would say I’m sorry except I don’t want to lie to you again.”
Her eyes blow wide at his lack of guilt, then she seems to breath for the first time since she saw him. Shaking her head and huffing deeply as she crosses her arms.
“You are the most infuriating man I have ever known.”
“And yet you love me.” He grins at her, grateful she’s alive to berate him.
“And yet I love you.” Grabbing the front of his shirt, her eyes filled with raw honesty in the form of tears. Without warning she flings her arms around him, crushing her body to his. All at once, she’s shaking, sobbing into his shirt. His arms tighten around her not a second later, encompassing her small frame. He could hold her here forever, breathing in the scent of her hair. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, relishing in the fact that she’s safe, he forgets the war being fought around them and lets the feel of her ground him.
“I can’t believe you’re here.'' He barely makes out her mumbles into his chest.
“There’s nowhere else I should be. No where else I could be.” His voice cracks in his confession. It’s his turn to be vulnerable.
She lifts her head to look at him. They’re touching in all the ways they can be but somehow he needs to be closer. He searches her eyes for the love he knows lives there, he is certain that his eyes reflect the same.
Sliding his hands into her hair as he cups her face, never breaking from her deep gaze, he whispers. “I already told you, I am yours, Granger. So that means I am with you, always.”
Closing her eyes, she nods in acceptance, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her. Pouring every ounce of devotion he has into the meeting of their lips. He lives in this moment, a moment that is solely theirs, just for a minute.