Secrets and Masks

69. How long has it been?

TW; mentions of infant death

3rd July

Hermione didn't say it out loud, but the second safe house wasn't nearly as nice as the first.

For an old pub somewhere in Derbyshire, it had everything they needed. It was sturdy and well-hidden. It had lots of windows to use for lookouts, and because it used to be an Inn, it had plenty of bedrooms upstairs - enough for everyone, even with the new additions. It had lots of extra space to store all their weapons and medicines and even came with a beer cellar where they could bind and leave Crouch to rot.

Hermione could understand why Draco had chosen it. It was perfect for a safehouse - it was probably even more functional than the farm had been. It was practical and safe - but she hated it. It lacked the warmth of the farmhouse. It lacked the character, that old, rusting 'had seen better days' charm that she'd grown accustomed to. She missed the unorganised chaos of the bookcase and the way the dining table used to creak whenever someone put anything on it. She missed the small, cosy living room and she missed listening to the crackling fireplace.

But most of all, she missed the sofa.

There were enough rooms in the pub for Hermione and Draco to have a bedroom together. Even the smallest room came with a double bed but it felt too big to sleep in. Too cold. It put too much space between them, and Hermione just hadn't been able to fall asleep in it.

That was how she'd ended up outside, standing at the entrance of the pub, leaning against the doorframe and staring out at the heavy rain at 3 'o'clock in the morning. She watched puddles form on the cobbled path that led up to the pub and she watched the electric lantern that hung over the pub sign flicker, bringing the words The Golden Lion in and out of focus as they illuminated and then darkened the old sign.

The Golden Lion, that was the name of the pub that'd become their second home. The Golden fucking Lion. Hermione was sure Draco had picked this pub on purpose.

She couldn't have been standing there for more than half an hour before he found her. She didn't hear him approach. One minute she was standing there alone and the next, cold arms wrapped around her waist from behind. Apart from the blanket that he had wrapped around his shoulders, he was shirtless, and when he pulled her back against his chest, she was swaddled in the blanket's warmth.

"Come back to bed, little lion," Draco whispered in her ear, his voice that husky purr that made her toes curl.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Can't sleep," Hermione whispered back. Her breath left her in a soft exhale when Draco started to pepper kisses along the base of her throat.

She couldn't see his smile but she felt it. "Who said anything about sleeping?"

Hermione laughed quietly and rested her head against his shoulder. She leaned back against him and closed her eyes, relishing in the soft little kisses he pressed into her skin.

She should have expected that he wouldn't be able to sleep either. They'd all been through so much in the last few hours, everyone was exhausted, but she doubted anyone upstairs would truly be able to find sleep, not with what was on the horizon.

"Is everything ready for tomorrow?"

Like her words had been a spell, Draco's lips froze against her neck. "Yes."

"Are all the weapons prepared?"

"Yes."

"And the potions?"

"Yes."

"And everyone is aware of the -"

"Yes, Granger. Everyone is well versed in the plan that you've concocted."