Denouement

The Witch Bower

By Bambu

All standard disclaimers and author's notes may be found in Chapter One. However, my continuing thanks for SnarkyWench's help is perennial.

Chapter Six: Denouement

~o0o~

The bower watched over the newest Malfoy bride. It had been host to generations of young women, melding their power, their life's essence, and their ambitions to the Malfoys. But this one was special. She was the first Muggle-born, the first snatched from the metal and artificial rock of the cities.

The bower reached.

~o0o~

The raucous calls of jays in the forest canopy woke me. I hadn't really expected to be home yet, but it would have been nice. I kept my eyes shut, letting all the memories of my recent out-of-body, out-of-time, out-of-place experiences wash over me. It would take awhile to process everything I'd seen and done.

The jays flew off leaving me with the sound of the river flowing nearby. It wasn't as loud today; perhaps I was growing used to its constant presence. Then, at that precise moment, I realized I was not alone. My breath caught in my throat, and my mind worked at a frenzied pace.

It should be him.

Cautiously, I rolled onto my back, turning my head to the right. I recognized the white hair, the smooth expanse of back. He was curled on his side and under the 'blanket' with me.

"Draco?" I whispered and reached out to touch him. To make sure he was real and not some product of my imagination or the entity's teaching.

He rolled over so fast my hand was trapped beneath him, and his eyes were moving so quickly, scanning my face, my hair, my mouth, that I was practically dizzy watching him.

"Granger?" he asked, his voice hoarse and sleep-choked.

I started to cry. "Oh, Draco."

He pulled me to him roughly, and we clung to each other for a very long time.

When he angled back enough to press his lips to my forehead, I noticed that my cheeks were not the only ones which were wet. His fingers splayed through my matted hair, cradling my head and I felt him murmuring something against my skin. I was distracted by re-learning his smell, soap and spice and him.

Then, leaning his brow against mine, Draco murmured, "I love you, Hermione."

With one trembling hand, I brushed the tears from his cheeks, while I whispered, "and I you."

He kissed me swiftly, and then put me away from him. "We have to get out of here. And I'll see whoever has taken us in Azkaban." He shoved the leafy blanket off of us, and I noticed that while he was nude to his waist, he was wearing a pair of soft flannel sleeping pants. They had seen better days, but flannel gets better the older it is. He got to his knees, and then took a look around. "Where the hell --"

I saw the instant he recognized our location. His entire body jerked and he looked at me with incredulity.

"Merlin's left testicle!" He rose to his feet and without conscious thought offered me his hand. I grasped it and rose, noticing that my hands were filthy despite my attempts at cleaning them in the river. "We have to get out of here," he repeated.

Without letting me speak, he crossed the clearing, pulling me with him. I couldn't help but think this was going to be interesting.

We passed over the center of the glade, over a patch of bare earth, cut in a circle –- it hadn't been there the day before. I knew what it was and I was fairly certain what it meant for me.

My feet were sensitive from having walked all over the bare forest floor the day before and I wasn't moving quickly, but Draco was impatient. "I don't know ... I don't ... what the fuck is going on?"

"I think --"

He cut me off. "Let's talk once we're home. Then you can tell me everything." He squeezed my hand as if to say he wasn't meaning to be autocratic. Instead of irritating me as it normally would, I was touched by his worry and protectiveness.

Of course, when we reached the barrier, he sailed right through it ... all the way to the hand which clasped mine. He could come and go, but it seemed I could not. Instead of releasing my hand, Draco, stubborn man that he was, couldn't accept that I had to remain. He pulled and tugged and cursed. I had never heard him swear like that – it seemed a bit too common for a Malfoy, and I smiled a little.

I watched the late afternoon sun gleam golden off his hair, adding luster to his skin tone. He was really striking. The most handsome Malfoy I had ever seen. And he was mine.

Seeing my smile, he pushed himself back through the barrier, annoyed. "What's funny, Granger?"

Nothing. Everything. "I've never heard you swear like that. It just struck me as amusing."

"I have to get you out of here. I don't understand why or how you got here, but I think it's my fault, and I won't let you be hurt."

My mirth was dust in an instant. "I'm not hurt, love. And I don't think I'm going to be allowed to leave, at least for a little while."

"A little while? Jesus, Granger, you have no idea. I can't tell you what it's been like. It's been hell. I moved my mother and Potter to the manor under protection. I've been everywhere searching for you. I've seen Bill Weasley, and even went to Alexandria."

I couldn't do anything but stare at him. "Why ... er ... when ... how? How did you do all this?"

"How? I traveled by Portkey." He sounded impatient. "We have to go. I have to get you out of here."

But I was stuck, bemused by the lengths to which he'd gone to try to find me. My heart was full, my feet were glued to the ground, and my mind was reeling with facts, clues and bits of information. He tugged on my hand. "C'mon, we'll try another place."

"Portkey? How did you get a Portkey to Egypt? It usually takes weeks to arrange and I've only been gone a day."

That stopped him in his tracks. He stared at me, the crease between his eyebrows told me he was thinking hard. "A day? Hermione, you've been gone for two months."

"What! Two ... two months?" My voice could rival a jay's for shrillness. Suddenly I needed to sit down, my legs didn't seem able to support me, and I swayed where I stood.

"Granger!"

Strong arms wrapped around me, one sliding down behind my knees as he lifted me in his arms, carrying me across the glade, next to the river. He sat me upon the river's edge and then, without pause, he found a frayed end along the hem of my nighty and tore a strip of cloth from my garment. He dipped the thin flannel into the river. I was too bemused to make any sort of protest about my nightgown.

Months. I'd been gone for two months?

The feel of cool damp cloth roused me from my stupor, and I looked into an anxious face, noticing only then the dark circles under his eyes and the pallor of his skin. He was thinner than I remembered, his cheeks a bit hollow. I raised my hand to trace his features, the full pouty lips, the fine aristocratic nose and the raspy feel of his pale beard.

"I ... I ... Draco, it's only felt like a day. But there's so much to tell you. So much you need to know."

"I know that I have to get you home. The rest can wait." His jaw worked, and he scooped me up again, walking toward the nearest barrier which shimmered with iridescent brilliance. It seemed that his passing through it had activated it in some way.

This time he was unable to cross, regardless of whether he was touching me or not.

My mind reeled, rapidly fitting pieces of the puzzle together. Absently I noticed the changing light filtering through the canopy. Dusk was approaching rapidly, a sign of the shorter days of the year. I looked around the glade noticing subtle differences between the plants inside the perimeter and those just beyond the barrier. It seemed that the Malfoy ancestral protections created a sort of greenhouse effect, for these plants were still green, still supple while the forest beyond showed all the signs of an early winter. There was no frost on the ground, but the trees were mostly bare and the bracken was sere.

Glancing around the glade, my eyes came to rest on the table protrusion, where I'd gotten my meals yesterday, or last month. It held our provisions. Only they were no longer made of birch bark. A flutter of recognition and anticipation started in my tummy. How many times, since that first time I watched a tiny house-elf enlarge them, had I seen this goblet, this bowl, and this hand-shaped stone?

I finally, fully, understood.

"What the hell is there to smile about, now, Granger? I should never have listened to that old coot. We're stuck in this infernal place. I'm burning his portrait as soon as we get back."

I slid out of his arms, my feet finding their balance on the soft mossy ground cover. "What portrait? What old coot?"

"That can wait," Draco said through gritted teeth as he punched the semi-visible barrier. A striation of purple and white blossomed from the impact and Draco grunted. Then he punched it again.

"Stop! Draco, stop. Please." He faced me then, his expression despairing. I pulled him to me and it was a sign of his distress that he was completely compliant. "Love, I think we have to tell each other what has happened and I think we have to do it now. If what I suspect has to happen tonight, then I need to know what you know."

I caught a whiff of his shampoo as his hair swayed with the movement of his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you know what this place is? What it means to your family?"

"I ... it's ..." He blinked, focusing his attention on me. "I only know what my many times great-grandfather's portrait said. He called it the Heart of the Malfoys, and said this was where all true heirs were called when they dedicated themselves to the family."

Draco stopped talking for a moment, and I felt his hands clench into fists at my hips. I covered one of his hands with mine, and his grip was so tight his knuckles were bloodless. Softly, I said, "I saw you. That day in the forest, I saw you dedicate yourself to restoring the family's honor."

He stepped away from me, gaping in open astonishment. "What? How could you ... why have you never said anything? Granger --"

Before his mercurial temper could decide I'd been deceiving him since Midsummer, I interrupted, "Last night, when I dreamt, or was taken. I saw you. It's all part of what's happened to me since I was abducted. But I understand it now." He looked completely confused as I supposed he should. "Will you tell me everything your great-great-great --"

"Magnus."

"Sorry?"

"My many times great-grandfather's name was Magnus. Magnus Uther Malfoy." Amusement twitched in the corner of his mouth. "I think you would have liked his mum, she had an affinity for acronyms. You with SPEW and she with MUM."

"Draco." I said it with that voice, and despite our surroundings, he laughed. I loved his laugh. It was rich and deep and my insides turned to goo every time I heard it.

"Sorry, Granger." He pulled me against him, resting his brow against mine. "You don't know how glad I am to see you. I've missed you, Hermione. Don't ever go away again."

I ran my fingers through his silken hair. "I don't think I ever shall. Or I'll just take you with me."

His cheek was rough and he turned his head to kiss the palm of my hand. My voice was a little unsteady. "Will you tell me the rest about Magnus? What else he said."

He huffed. "I should have known you'd return to the point. Fine. MUM said that in order for the family to prosper, each Malfoy heir had to show our fealty in the Heart of the Malfoys on one of the old pagan sabbats or during a full moon. I thought he was extremely irritating. The only other thing he said was that his son hadn't been a believer in the old ways and had refused the oath. He wouldn't explain more than that."

We had moved while he spoke, back to my, our, little bed. I pulled the leafy blanket over the lumpy bracken and Draco and I sat. I suspected we would be talking for some time. Until moonrise at least.

"I searched the bloody manor, every dungeon and attic, and then the grounds, looking for the Heart of the Malfoys. It took me weeks. Then, several days before Midsummer, I found an old family map," a sudden chill raised goosebumps along my arms, and I was fairly certain I knew exactly what map he was describing, "really old, and preserved with several layers of spells to keep the parchment from cracking and disintegrating. It would make your knickers wet, Granger." I narrowed my eyes at him for the comment, and he smirked. "It showed the extent of the Malfoy lands and on that map was a small circle which read The Heart."

It made so much sense, and what he said next placed the last rune of the equation, and both sides of the theorem balanced.

"You know how I feel about being in a forest during a full moon. There are still werewolves about, you know, although I don't know of any on Malfoy lands. So I came here at Midsummer and made the pledge. I came again on the Solstice, at midnight." He looked at me through his lashes. It was unintentionally beguiling and I felt a little curl of heat low in my abdomen. It reminded me that my bladder was full. "It's your turn," he said.

"I know, but I need a trip to the Water Closet first."

"Water Closet?" His eyebrow raised in query.

"It's the glade's approximation of a bathroom. Here, let me show you." I pulled him to his feet and we linked our fingers as I guided him to my Water Closet. He laughed when he saw it, but noticing my blush said nothing more than, "Thank Merlin I can stand."

"Well you go ... stand ... while I stay here. I'll meet you back at the blanket."

"Blanket?"

"You know, our bed, the leaf cover. It's what the glade made for my blanket."

"The glade made? Granger, are you feeling all right. Fuck! We have to get out of here."

I arched up onto my tiptoes and brushed his lips with mine. "We will. I'll explain. I think we'll be able to leave in the morning."

His eyes narrowed. "Why do you think that?"

"I'll explain. Trust me."

What he said then nearly stole my breath.

"I do." With that declaration, he turned to find a place upstream, a little ways distant from the natural screen separating us.

The sound of the river masked any noise we made and I felt much better after I'd used the sacrificial leaves. I thanked the tree, this time believing it understood me, and then I met Draco at the river's edge to wash my hands.

By rights we should have been starving, but I wasn't really hungry and he said nothing. Our attention was elsewhere. We got as comfortable as possible on my bed, with me leaning against the headboard – I was the only one with something to cover my back -- and he nestled between my legs, slouched low enough for me to lean my chin on his shoulder.

I had never before appreciated what a good audience he was. He listened to my every word, asking only one or two questions, but didn't otherwise interrupt.

At the end of my tale, he twisted in my lap, and without a word, gathered me into his arms. We sat there while he absorbed the enormity of my adventures. The last remnants of daylight had gone and the moon hadn't yet risen when he spoke. "So you believe we're here to get married?"

"In the eyes of the forest and land, yes."

He raised my chin with a single finger and our eyes met. "I never got the chance to ask you, but I planned to that night. Your birthday."

Here was my opportunity to plead ignorance, to move forward as if there was nothing for us to talk about. But after my experiences within the Heart of the Malfoys, I couldn't go forward with a lie on my lips. I swallowed hard. "I know."

"You do?"

"I panicked."

Understanding stiffened his spine. "That's why you had me take you home."

I held him tighter. He didn't fight but he didn't relax. "I didn't know how to talk to you about some of my concerns. You know about my mum and dad. I didn't want to hurt you and I was afraid."

"Was? Are you afraid now?"

"Of a great many things. But not about us."

He was too smart to ask what had made the difference, but he was quiet for a little while. "Then if I were to ask you again?"

"You already know the answer."

"I do?"

"Yes."

He kissed me and it was as if it was our first kiss. His lips were dry and a little chapped, but I imagined mine weren't any better. Neither of us tasted particularly minty fresh, but it was real and it was arousing. I shuddered and he broke the kiss.

"We should probably wait."

"Yeah," I agreed. But I touched my finger to the moisture beading on his lower lip then spread it like gloss over that plump skin.

He snatched my hand. "Don't do that."

Desire spread its wings and I caught my breath. "Really?"

"Really. According to you, we have a ritual to perform."

I nodded. "When the moon is full."

He turned his head, took a look at the reflective silver patches of moonlight on the river downstream. I noticed the bare earth circle was illuminated completely by the moon and I knew that it was time. "Draco."

"I know." He let me go and I rose to my feet. When he was standing, he turned away from me. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

His skin was cool and smooth under my palm, and I felt the tension in his body. "I'm sure. My doubts are gone. If we have trouble, I'll talk to you about it. I'm no longer afraid."

He faced me. "I never expected you to be afraid of anything. I'll talk to you, too."

"That's the best promise we could make each other. I'm sure we won't always see eye-to-eye on things."

He snorted and I smiled.

The, without another word, we crossed the glade to retrieve the chalice, bowl, and stone.

"This stone?" he asked.

"I believe so."

He placed it on the flat protrusion while, with reverent fingers, we both traced the markings on the pewter. "I've never seen these before," he said.

Quietly, we gathered our ritual tools. As we walked to the edge of the earthen circle, I had the sense that the entire glade was paying attention. I placed the bowl of grain at my feet, then, meeting Draco's eyes, I removed my nightgown. I felt the weight of his stare, and even though we'd seen each other nude, had known one another intimately, it felt like our earlier kiss -- as if it was the first time.

The night air was cool enough for my nipples to retract and my skin to prickle. Despite the circumstances, or because of them, desire beat its wings and heat sparked in my womb.

I watched as he slid the flannel pants from his hips, the dark golden curls at his groin offered little warmth against the chill of the air.

Lifting the metal bowl in my hands, I stepped next to this generation's Malfoy. He gathered the goblet and the stone, then, together, we stepped into the circle.

The second my bare foot touched the gritty earth, I felt the magic, the sentient energy of the glade, the broader distant energy of the forest and the plains beyond. Somehow, it felt as if my entire life had built to this moment. The difficulties of my childhood, the years of friendship with Harry and Ron, the war years, learning how to love from Ron, and then his loss, Harry's loss, all of it had molded me into the woman I was today.

Unerringly, I found the center of the circle. I had done it several times now, but each of those times it had been someone else's ritual. Now it was my turn. Willingly, eagerly, I was offering to bind my life to Draco's and to this land, his land, our land.

Draco's expression was as serious as I'd ever seen it, and we didn't speak as we knelt on the ground. I'd forgotten how cold the dirt could be, but ignored it. I watched him turn the unfamiliar stone in his palm and reached out to show him how it should be held. His swift glance and clenched jaw reminded me how proud he could be ... and yet I also knew it masked a vulnerability he strove to hide from the world. He closed his eyes for a moment before accepting my help.

"This is why I was taken, love. To understand."

He nodded abruptly and then the fingers of his other hand wrapped around mine, creating an odd sandwich. "We'll do it together then."

My heart soared. "Together."

"Always together."

I blinked away my sudden tears and concentrated on digging a hole in the earth. It hadn't been done for centuries; the dirt was hard-packed and the stone still wasn't sharp, but we managed. Our hands got filthy but it didn't matter. Once the hole was large enough, we placed the stone in the center.

Unlike the last ritual I'd participated in, it wasn't the Malfoy, Draco, who coaxed me into sitting cross-legged. I was the one who coaxed him. The openness of our position, naked as we were, was a little odd. There was nothing hidden from each other and I noticed that he shifted a little where his testicles touched the cold earth. Remembering how uncomfortable it could be, I vowed to tell him about that some day.

Together Draco and I formed an enclosure around the divot we had dug, our knees touching. I felt a low-lying hum of magic at each place I touched the earth or him.

"Do you feel it?" I asked, balancing the pewter bowl in my hands. It was filled with the same type of grain I'd eaten the day before.

"Yes," he nodded, and reached for the goblet of water.

Because he had never said the words and I had, as his many times distant ancestor, I was the one to speak. "As my eyes, mouth, and hands do, follow my lead. Together we must join on this sacred ground in this sacred union."

His hand – the one holding the goblet – shook, and I found that I was trembling just a bit as well. Even if it was what we wanted, there was an enormity to this ritual which couldn't, shouldn't be taken lightly.

By the silvery light of the moon his eyes met mine and held. Pale gray, like the early morning sky, to mid-brown, like the very earth we sat upon. I began to slow my breathing. Within three breaths he had synchronized his respiration to mine.

Staring unflinchingly at another person isn't something we do often in our normal lives. It's uncomfortably intimate, but this was Draco and I loved him.

I have always thought the phrase the eyes are the window to the soul was rubbish, but sitting cross-legged on the cold ground in the Heart of the Malfoys, I learned there was more to it than I had ever understood. If one looked long enough, deep enough, and without fear ... then one discovered that they were indeed the window to the soul.

Draco's soul was beautiful.

He precipitated my next move, clearly remembered from my descriptions, and raised his left hand, palm forward. I shifted the pewter bowl to my right hand then placed my left hand against his palm. It was larger than mine, damp with nerves and slightly calloused. I could feel the tremor in his body, but I could also feel his pulse throbbing between us.

In. Out.

Our breaths had found a rhythm, and within our own time our hearts began to beat as one. I no longer felt the cold air or the hard ground beneath me. My entire existence seemed to be focused our heartbeat and our breath. I'd never felt closer to another human in my entire life. Not Mum or Dad, not Harry or Ron. And not even Draco those few hours ago as I was telling him what had happened to me.

I knew him now, just as he knew me.

My eyes watered and I knew it was time. We knew it was time.

Loath to end the moment, we reluctantly moved our hands, together holding the pewter bowl directly over our earthen vessel. I fingered the runes carved along the top of the pewter before dipping my right hand into the bowl. Gathering a handful of grain, I carefully mounded it atop the stone, piling it high, using every single morsel. Then Draco and I placed the bowl to my left, beyond the boundary of our crossed legs.

Power.

Familiar, ancient power rose up through the cooling outer shell of the planet, flooding through my body, my feet, my legs, my mons – I was suddenly wet with urgent, primitive need -- my uterus, my heart and beyond.

Through our joined hands, I felt Draco react to the magic. He was partially erect and I remembered how that felt, the urgent blaze to a man's desire instead of the slow, rolling boil of a woman's.

I took a deep breath, and Draco followed suit.

We needed all four hands to hold the goblet. We were shaking so hard, so filled with elemental power. We wrapped our hands around the stem of the goblet. There were too many fingers, but we managed to pour the water over the grain, soaking it, causing much to wash into the basin we'd carved together.

When the goblet was empty we placed it to the right of our enclosed knees. Next, we leaned back, our palms, left and right, touching as we tilted our heads to look up into the night.

The moon dominated the sky, hovering immediately overhead. It was full and pale, but we felt its power nonetheless. I closed my eyes, aware Draco was probably doing the same. The cool touch of magic danced over my face, my hair and shoulders, tightening my nipples, and melding with the earth magic grounding me.

My entire body trembled from the massive energy, and as before, I could feel Draco's life force, and the nearby wildlife, the trees and plants of the forest, three life forms in the stone manor, and underlying all of that, there was a distant link with the great crumbling henge on the plains. I could feel Draco's impatience, and I began to speak. I knew not what I said, but I recognized it from that first Neolithic moment at Stonehenge and from the Malfoy who had sanctified this ground.

It was a binding, a promise, a vow.

Draco spread his fingers, locking our hands together.

Then, channeling all that magic, we bent forward to place our hands over the hole in the ground. We were so close that we pressed our cheeks together and could hear our breaths, still in synch with one another, as we sealed the wound we'd made with our own hands. The stone's smooth surface fitted beneath us, no longer grain-spotted or damp from the water sacrifice. But I no longer cared about the stone or the gritty dirt beneath my bum.

All I cared about was Draco.

He looked at me as if he was starving.

Using our hands as the fulcrum, he rose awkwardly to his knees. I couldn't resist him. I didn't want to resist. It no longer mattered what we had or hadn't done in the past. This was now and everything was different.

I didn't wait for permission; he'd already granted me that.

Opening my mouth, I caught the drop of pre-seminal fluid glistening at the tip of his rampant erection. Draco sucked in his breath, the first one out of synch with mine since we'd begun the real ritual, and I smiled in sheer feminine delight as I tasted the salty, bitter flavor of his essence.

It wasn't enough. I wanted more and so I opened my mouth, engulfing the soft mushroom-headed erection, slipping my lips past the ridge of his glans, tonguing the thick ridge of his vein along the underside of his shaft. I heard him groan, his hands moving, but our fingers were still entwined and I wasn't letting go.

His dark golden curls tickled my nose, my lips, and my chin, and I inhaled the musky aroma of his most private place. Then, hollowing my cheeks, I sucked, rocking back on my pelvis, leaving his erection glistening in the pale moonlight.

"Granger ... Hermione ... love." His erection bobbed in the night air.

"Draco." I said and tilted my head. His eyes were shadowed, fixed upon me, and desire took flight in one powerful down stroke. I surged up from my sitting position, pulled as if by magic.

He conquered my mouth, his tongue sweeping against mine, tasting, thrusting, compelling me to respond, to submit. I welcomed him gladly. And then my hands were free and touching ... touching ... touching him in all the ways I'd ever needed: the fine hair of his chest, his pebbled, knut-sized flat male nipples, the lean ripple of muscle leading to his goodie trail.

My emotions were overwhelming and amidst desire there was profound love and more than a little awe.

He pulled back, his eyes smoldering with an intensity I'd rarely seen, but we knew one another now. There was nothing to fear and everything to gain. Keeping his eyes on mine, he settled back on his haunches and, for the very first time, took one of my nipples in his mouth.

I gasped.

I mewled.

He suckled, tonguing me until my womb clenched and my clit sparked with tiny spasms.

I cried out his name.

And suddenly I was on my back and he was between my legs. In one savage thrust, he slid home and I came so hard that I saw the stars above the night sky at Stonehenge.

I distantly heard Draco shout as he shuddered his release.

Magic suffused him ... me ... us.

I was Hermione Granger.

I was Draco Malfoy.

I was the Heart of the Malfoys.

I was the henge on the plains.

My heart pounded and I heard his rasping, ragged breath in my ears. I loved the feel of his body pressing on mine and I clung to him, never wanting the moment to end, feeling more replete than ever before.

I whispered to him, to the glade, to the land, "I love you."

Draco angled off me, his arms shaking from the effort. "I love you."

He managed to get to his knees and then to his feet, brushing off the dirt embedded in his skin. Instead of offering me a hand, Draco retrieved our clothing from the edge of the circle. Then he helped me to my feet; in truth, I was rather shaky. We didn't speak. What was there to say after an experience so profound? We retrieved the bowl, the chalice, and the stone before making our way to the river.

We touched frequently -- little touches -- a finger, a sweep of the hand down my back as he guided me across the glade.

At river's edge, Draco brushed off my back, my bum, and my legs with his pants before doing the same for himself. I smiled, he grinned, and we washed ourselves in the cold water.

We then dried one another with the ragged hem of my nighty. Four hands and ten willing fingers made the work of dressing swift but satisfying. Once dressed and somewhat clean, we found my bracken bed and curled up underneath the green blanket. Limbs fitted in an embrace we were loath to break.

We kissed then. Softly, reverently, deeply.

I closed my eyes, breathing in the night air, and had never felt so connected nor so content.

Draco's lips brushed the corner of my eye.

Our breaths synchronized once again.

One, two, three.

And then we were asleep.

~o0o~