The air was cold and the wind constant as the Granian sped across England and over the North Sea.
The horse moved impossibly fast through the air, faster than a Thestral, faster than Hermione thought it was possible for any living animal to move.
She gripped Draco until her hands ached. "Don't die, Draco. Hold on."
She kept whispering diagnostic spells and verifying that the curse hadn't evolved, that there wasn't fluid accumulation, reassuring herself that his heart rate remained steady.
They were going so fast and so high that the ground was a blur. She refused to look. She couldn't falter.
"Don't die, Draco," she said again as she buried her face against his back.
Her head was throbbing.
The horse kept flying, on and on.
Hour after hour.
The sensation of freefalling suddenly made Hermione's stomach flip as the Granian hit the ground at a run. Its wings were held out wide, carrying it up off the ground in long flying leaps as it slowed down.
Hermione lifted her head and stared dazedly. It was night, and only a crescent moon illuminated the sky.
The horse had landed in an open field.
She squeezed Draco's hand as the Granian cantered to a stop. "Draco... Draco, we've landed. I don't know how to find the safe house."
She shook him gently until she felt him stir. "Draco. I think we're here."
He lifted his head slowly.
"Nix..."
There was a pop, and a tiny and positively ancient-looking house-elf appeared.
"Master Draco, Nix did not expect you," the elf said. Its voice was creaky with age.
Draco stared at him and finally nodded slowly. "Take the horse."
Hermione let the reins slip from her fingers. She started to shift to dismount, but her leg in the stirrup wouldn't hold her. She started to topple off the horse.
Draco abruptly jerked from barely lucid to awake. His right hand shot out and caught her by the cloak.
"Nix!"
Hermione felt herself caught magically, and Draco's hand let go. She was levitated gently to the ground and lay in the grass, too exhausted to move. She stared up at the sky. The stars were bright and glittering overhead.
A moment later Draco brought his leg over the saddle and slid off the Granian, dropping down heavily beside the horse. He patted its neck for a moment before turning and kneeling down next to Hermione. He was as pale as the moonlight, and his expression was dazed but worried as he stared down at her. He pulled the glove off with his teeth and pressed his hand against her cheek.
She forced herself to give him a wan smile. "We did it, Draco."
The corner of his mouth quirked up, and his hand slipped down to take hers. She stood, slowly and unsteadily, and they leaned against each other as they walked forward. Draco stopped and extended his hand. There was a clicking sound, and a ray of pale candle light appeared as a door swung open.
They didn't even bother to pull their cloaks off; they just collapsed into the bed and slept. Hermione gripped his hand tightly between both of hers. Draco's chin brushed against her forehead, and she buried her face against his chest, breathing him in.
It was nearly evening the next day when she woke. Her headache was still a constant grinding pain in the back of her mind. She blinked it away, looking carefully around.
