The air was crisp and blew leaves off the tree branches as autumn began to make way for winter. Her cheeks were red from the walk she’d just made from camp to the small lake she’d noticed on the map. Harry and Ron were discussing strategy when she said she was doing to take a walk. Ron had nodded, and Harry had given her a questioning look that she’d returned with a small shake of her head. She wanted to be alone and didn’t need him looking after her.

The walk had taken longer than she’d expected, but she finally reached the water. The water was dark and frightening. The pale rays of moonlight didn’t provide enough illumination to see perfectly, but the glow of her wand helped. She stared at the water as the thoughts in her head kept rolling around until she rubbed her temples.

Despite the cool chill in the air, Hermione pulled her jumper over her head and kicked off her shoes before she wiggled out of her denims. She kept her socks on as she walked to the edge of the water and waded in. The water was cold and she shivered as she kept walking. When it reached her hips, she held her breath and fell backwards. The cotton of her knickers and bra soaked through and pulled against her skin, but she ignored it as she let the water cover her.

She blinked as she remained underwater and tried to get her mind clear. Nothing else had helped during the last month. If anything, it was getting worse. She had to be focused, couldn’t be confused and conflicted, and needed to regain control of her thoughts. The water was warmer once she became accustomed to it, but her mind still wasn’t clear.

After she broke the surface and took a deep breath, she sunk underwater once again. There were rocks beneath her feet, poking against her socks, and she shivered when she felt something slimy brush against her leg as a fish (or she hoped it was a fish) swam past her. She closed her eyes as the water surrounded her.

Hands suddenly grabbed her arms and pulled her out. Hermione choked as she gasped underwater. She flailed as she tried to regain her footing. Once she did, she stood up and coughed, trembling as a cold breeze blew her wet hair around her face. The hands were moving over her arms and back and she heard cursing as she spit out lake water.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I was thinking,” she defended as sharply as possible as she shivered and glared at the scowling blond.

“Underwater?” He snorted as he trembled and pushed his hair away from his face. The moonlight made the ragged scars on his cheek and neck look like silver, made him look ethereal in a way that had her almost wondering if he was real.

“Yes, underwater,” she snapped, all too aware that he was real. He was the reason she needed to get away and to clear her head, after all.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” he declared as he looked down at her. “What the hell were you thinking, Granger?”

“Water helps me think,” she admitted softly when she noticed that, beneath the scowl and glare, he really looked worried.

“You could have drowned,” he murmured as he stared at her. “You didn’t come up for air and I thought---that was just stupid!”

“You followed me?” She blinked as she shook from the cold. She dipped down enough to get underwater to try to warm up, which she knew wasn’t logical but the water was warmer so it worked.

“I was bored,” he said as he looked at the sky and then back at her. “Come on. We need to get out of here. It looks like it’s going to rain and you’re freezing.”

He stammered and his teeth chattered, giving her a good idea that he was the one freezing. He reached out and brushed a wet curl of hair from her cheek. Hermione sighed and knew instantly that she’d failed again. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” he asked harshly, knowing exactly what she was talking about.

“I love Ron,” she whispered, the words sounding foreign on her tongue. It didn’t matter that Ron hadn’t tried to get closer to her after an unexpected kiss they’d shared at Bill’s wedding before they’d left with Harry. It didn’t matter that he no longer looked at her like he wanted her as his own. She’d wanted him for years and that’s all that mattered. Draco Malfoy couldn’t change that, not even with his intense gazes and barely restrained passion that lured her closer like a moth to a flame.

Malfoy growled at her words and pulled her against him as he lowered his head. He kissed her hard as his hand drifted down her back to grip the curve of her arse. Hermione brought her hands up to push him away but ended up wrapping them around his neck as she kissed him back.

When they parted, he tangled his fingers in her hair and made her look at him. “You’re lying,” he accused her roughly. “You couldn’t kiss me like that if you loved Weasley.”

Hermione looked down, focusing on the red cotton material clinging to her as she tried to collect her thoughts. “We can’t,” she murmured when she finally looked back at him. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yes, we can,” he told her firmly before he kissed her again. This kiss was still forceful but there was a tenderness that hadn’t been there for any of their stolen kisses during the last month. When the kiss broke, he rested his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her wet lips. “We can, Granger.”

“I’m cold,” she said softly as another breeze made her shiver. She ran her fingers lightly over the scars on his face, feeling him shudder from her touch. As she looked at him bathed in the glow of moonlight, her mind suddenly became clear. Instead of answering, she pressed against him, shaking from the cold as she leaned up and kissed him. Maybe, for once, things didn’t have to make sense to be just right.

End