Carpathian

Wednesday, 9:16 pm

They should be investigating. Contacting Mundungus for an update, interviewing people in Verdell, searching the sanctuary until something new clicked. Instead, Hermione and Draco were stuck at a bonfire.

Charlie had been primarily responsible for the guilt-tripping. Tonight was the first time no one in their group had night patrol, and it would have looked suspicious if she and Draco had rejected the proposal—especially after last night's post curfew excursion. They couldn't risk Charlie learning of their investigation.

The log wobbled beneath her, only stopping once Draco placed a hand on her jostling thigh. His placating touch was an instant comfort.

"Thirty more minutes," Draco whispered. "Then we can leave."

For once, her curfew was a blessing: an assurance that she and Draco would still have alone time.

To investigate. Just to investigate.

Or at least, that's what Hermione kept telling herself.

When Draco didn't move, Hermione couldn't combat the deluge of wandering thoughts, remembering how natural it had felt to wake up next to him. Wondering what it would feel like to do so again, this time, without barriers. Warm hands, directly on skin, exploring her body like an uncharted landscape. Wrapping her tight in his embrace. Holding her, kissing her—

"Granger?"

She jolted back to reality, having clearly missed whatever Draco had said.

Firelight illuminated his concerned gaze. "Something wrong?"

"I'm fine," she said, mildly distracted by his hand atop her thigh. "Tad cold is all."

A smile replaced his worry. "I can fix that."

He conjured a blanket over their shoulders, and Draco nestled closer, fueling more heat than the thick fabric itself.

"Better?"

It was impossible to determine if her flush was due to the fire or Draco's proximity. "Much."

"Good." His thigh brushed against hers. "Now"—Draco jerked his chin towards Charlie and Julia—"is it me, or was something off between them earlier?"

Draco wasn't wrong. During dinner, Julia had been reserved, much like when they'd gone to the Dennfyre. Was this not the first time she and Charlie had fought, even in the past week? Perhaps Charlie had insisted on this bonfire in hopes of lessening their palpable tension by surrounding them with friends. Much to Hermione's relief, it appeared to be working.

Mostly.

While Markus and Aurel prepared mugs of fire-warmed butterbeer, Charlie and Julia sat on their log, as close as they had been during the first bonfire. They chatted, laughed, smiled. A far improvement to what Hermione had overheard the night before. But behind Julia's smile, Hermione detected the strain: the effort required to keep the facade in place.

Hermione nudged closer, and Draco pulled the blanket tighter around them. Her voice was low. "Have you ever seen Charlie and Julia argue?"

"As in, seen it myself?"

"Or heard about it after the fact."

Cackling fire filled the silence before Draco whispered, "Once. A few weeks back. Charlie complained about how Julia didn't want to come with him to that engagement party."

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "But Charlie told me she had to stay here and work with the Short Snouts."

Draco shrugged. "There are at least a dozen other Short Snout keepers who could have covered for her. If you ask me, I think she thought it was too soon to meet his family. It's only been a few months. And can you blame her? I wouldn't want to spend an entire weekend celebrating that worthless weasel either."