Author's Note: This piece was written for the Dramione Fanfiction Forum's Sounds Like Dramione lyric competition. The prompt for my story was, "Because we're able to be just you and me within these walls..." - Rewrite the Stars, by Zac Efron and Zendaya.

I would like to thank my alpha and my beta, Kyonomiko and I was BOTWP, for their work. Thank you to the fest mods for their efforts! This story will be shared to FFN in three installments and is complete on AO3.

I am beyond thrilled and humbled to say this story won the following: Winner - best romance; Runner-up - best angst; Joint winner - best smut; Joint runner-up - best Draco characterization; Joint winner - best Hermione characterization; Winner - best use of prompt.

Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, but are property of JKR And Warner Bros and no copyright infringement is intended.

Her wand was brandished between white knuckles, and for the most fleeting of instants, Hermione Granger wondered if a day would come where this wouldn't be her life anymore.

Diving behind an overturned table, she narrowly avoided a flash of violet light as it shot past her head. She found Harry's eyes across the room amidst a mess of people and spellfire, and with a quick nod, she rose and fired, creating the diversion her friend so greatly needed.

Another day – another ambush. Still no closer to finding the last Horcrux.

They'd all been so certain, during the Battle of Hogwarts, that Nagini was the last. But after three years of living on the run, facing unimaginable losses, and fighting for their existence and something far greater, Hermione longed for any lingering semblance of that certainty.

This outpost was likely another dead end – but they were used to it by now.

Whirling on the spot at a noise behind her, Hermione shot a stunner and ducked to avoid the backlash. At the telltale swish of long robes, she fired again, and again; a smile curled her lips at the resulting thud.

Looking across to see where Harry had gone, she found herself in the line of fire of a Death Eater whose mask she knew well after repeated altercations, and her eyes narrowed.

"It's the pretty Mudblood, here again." Yaxley, cackling. She was surprised the idiotic – and increasingly insane – bastard hadn't been put down by his own master yet.

Dodging the first of the string of deadly curses she knew to expect, she felt a shimmer of magic graze her skin but her expression remained blank as she deflected spell after spell, firing her own in return.

Hermione scowled and cursed, moving to make chase when Yaxley flitted out of her line of sight, but she knew better than to act rash.

The charmed galleon in the rear pocket of her jeans warmed and she slipped the coin into her free hand, chancing a look down as she ducked for cover once more.

NOTHING. MOVING OUT.
HP

Gritting her teeth on the taste of failure, bitter as ever, she slipped out the back, leaving the outpost in a smouldering heap of rubble.

Dragging a frustrated hand through already disheveled hair, Harry stabbed his wand into a well-worn and threadbare map of London. The spot he touched incinerated to ash.

"We knew today's raid would lead nowhere," Hermione reminded him, even as she felt the tedium of their futile efforts seep into her own heart.

"Right," Harry bit out. "And so will tomorrow's – and the day after."

Hermione knew better than to offer any empty promises. They'd learned years ago it did more harm than good. They'd learned a lot of hard lessons – like the best places to bury friends when they were always on the move.

That lesson had been learned over again ever since the day they lost Ron.

The telltale warming of her Protean-charmed galleon went off in her pocket once more and she inspected the message beneath the table while Harry toiled over the ragged map, with an impassioned, "We know it has to be in London!"

HALF AN HOUR

?

Expression blank, Hermione tucked the coin away, turning to face Harry with her chin up. "I request permission to make a supply run. The food situation is dire again."

Harry waved a distracted hand, with a muttered, "Granted. Be safe."

"Always." She slipped through the back of the tent.

She felt the sting of dozens of her own wards and enchantments cross her skin as she Apparated into a small flat on the outskirts of Muggle London, and Hermione allowed a hint of a smile to curl across her lips.

It had been too long, and the days too painful.

He was already there, wearing thin the small rug at the hearth – a breathtaking smile cracked his face when she arrived.

And she allowed some of the weight to leave her shoulders as she sagged into his embrace, with a deep inhale of the rugged scent of the person who meant more to her than this world.

"Draco."

Grey eyes searched hers as his hands swept to her shoulders. "Hermione. You're safe?"

She nodded, lips finding his, and her fingers tugged at the long strands of blond hair at the nape of his neck. "Just fine."

"When I saw you duelling Yaxley…" he murmured into her hair as he drew back.

"I know." Hermione shifted, smiling as she took in his face. "I felt your shielding spell."

Clicking his tongue, he shook his head slowly. "I hate how frequent these raids are becoming."

"You know I do too," Hermione said with a sigh. "But until we find that last Horcrux, there really are no other options."

Carding a hand through his hair, a knit lifted into his brow. "I know. I've brought your supplies, and some money. I just wish there was more I could do."

"Draco," she whispered, tracing the sharp lines of his cheekbones with her fingertips, "you risk your life every time we meet."

He didn't respond, his expression hard and jaw clenched.

"And unless you know what – and where – the last Horcrux is, there's nothing else you can do besides everything you're already doing to help. Supplies, information. Don't discount that."

With a bone-weary facsimile of a smile, he nodded, dragging the hair tie from her bun and letting her curls tumble loose. "I'm just glad you're safe. And here with me."

Coiling her arms around his waist, Hermione rested her face on his chest and basked in the gentle rhythm of his heart.

The heart that had stolen her own, years ago, back when they were still teenagers at Hogwarts, unaware of everything that would be coming their way in subsequent years. And there had been no other path for her.

For as challenging as everything was, and as painful as it was to live such a meagre, war-torn existence – within this small Muggle flat, when Draco stood at her side, was some semblance of a home.

Pulling back, Hermione slipped the trail of buttons on his shirt, and his gaze heated as his lips curled with a smirk. Draco tugged her jumper over her head, and dragged his hands along her sides as his lips found hers.

"I wish you'd eat more," he grumbled against her mouth, fingers tracing her prominent ribs. "I give you plenty of food."

"And you know I can't eat it all myself," she muttered, rolling her eyes at his favourite jab. "And if you gave me more –"

"People would ask questions," Draco returned, shaking his head. "I know."

"Speaking of." Her hands fell to his belt buckle, making quick work of his trousers. "People have been asking a lot about my source lately. Whether it's trustworthy."

Draco scoffed, pushing her jeans down her narrow hips. "What do you think?" Snorting, his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her knickers. "Like I've provided you any faulty leads?"

"I know," she groaned, grasping his hard cock through his shorts as her lips found his again.

"Hermione." He drew away, eyes meeting hers. "We aren't talking about this – not now. Not here. Okay?"

And despite the unease in her heart, she nodded. Within this small flat was the only place she could truly be herself – and she knew it was the last place where Draco still felt human.

Slinging her slight frame over his shoulder, Draco carted her into the bedroom, her bright laughter surrounding them as he made quick work of their remaining clothing.

He kissed her, his tongue finding hers, as he eased himself inside her; Hermione's fingers dug into his hair as her head fell back into the pillow and she allowed herself to simply feel.

Trailing his fingers down the bare skin of her spine, Draco propped himself up on one elbow to face her. Hermione smiled, basking in the time spent with him, despite that she knew it to be finite.

He was a far cry from the spoiled, impetuous troublemaker he'd been as a child.

Gazing around the small flat, she took in the decor they'd accumulated over the years in an effort at normalcy.

There was the collection of acrylic landscapes she'd rescued from an abandoned storage locker on a supply run. Draco had shown up with a pail of paint one day, and they'd spent an afternoon painting the walls by hand – and had ended up covered in the process. Standing guard in one corner was the ridiculously oversized giraffe Draco had gifted her after they'd risked everything to visit a Muggle carnival on a warm summer night.

All held memories, carrying their own weighty significance of the life they could have had – had things worked out differently.

Sometimes Hermione wondered how their lives might look if the war had ended that day at the Battle of Hogwarts. And she knew Draco felt the same, even though they rarely indulged in 'what ifs'.

"Knut for your thoughts," he murmured, planting a kiss on her lips.

"Just thinking," Hermione replied, turning back to face him. "About things."

His eyes narrowed. "Things. Like the future."

"Yes." Releasing a quiet sigh, she offered an apologetic smile. "Like a day that may come to pass when you don't need to hide anymore."

"It may," he allowed. "But you and I both know you need me inside for as long as possible."

"Beneficial, to be sure." She fidgeted with the fraying corner of the quilt. "But not if it puts your life at risk. You do so much for our side, and you're seen like the rest of them."

"It's necessary." His lips dropped into a frown; Hermione knew he didn't care to discuss logistics between them, but still she longed for the day when he didn't need to bow down to such a cruel and malicious master. "I've spent years gaining his trust and getting inside his circle – and if that means I can keep you as safe as possible, that's where I'll stay."

"I know." She smiled, a tilt to her head. "And I love you for it all the more."

He flashed a cocky grin. "I know you do – but I promise you, if the day comes when I can leave there, I will."

"When," she corrected absently. "The contingencies are already in place to get your mother to safety."

"That is a matter to be discussed later." His tone sharpened as he withdrew his arm, checking the time. "I already miss you – but I need to leave soon."

Peering at his watch, her eyes widened. "I've got twenty minutes before Harry will start to worry."

Draco's grey eyes flashed with heat as his hand slipped beneath the covers. "That sounds like a challenge."

Tempers were always higher around the camp when they'd faced a string of bad luck. It had been one of those weeks, and Hermione approached Harry and the other rebellion leaders with caution, having stowed her galleon safely away. Despite that he knew she also utilized her coin to receive information from an outside source, Draco's messages were for her eyes only.

"I've heard from my contact," she announced, standing straight. "We can expect an ambush on the Berkshire safehouse, Friday morning."

"Friday," Harry scoffed, frowning. "How certain is your contact?"

Neville stepped forward. "Her contact hasn't yet led us astray."

"He's a traitor," Harry threw back. "There's nothing to say he won't betray us, too. If it's been brought to light that this contact has been supplying us with information –"

"I can assure you, my contact has not been compromised." Emerald eyes narrowed as they met hers but she stood firm, understanding his reticence. It wouldn't be the first time they'd been deceived with false information – but ever since Draco had started informing under the guise of an anonymous informant, that hadn't been the case.

At first, Harry had questioned the legitimacy – and the connection – of her source, but once the information began to prove helpful, he had offered begrudging acceptance.

"Fine," Harry huffed. "Berkshire. We'll prepare a contingent."

With a sharp nod, Hermione excused herself. She had no desire to strategize with the others, not as her heart grew increasingly heavy.

It was as if everything was building and something was about to give – she could feel it as a thick tension in her bones. She only hoped the shift of power would go in their favour for once.

And all she could do, for the time being, was to make sure they were as prepared as possible to face it.

"Oh, Draco, there you are."

Schooling a scowl into stoicism, Draco turned to face his master, ensuring his Occlumency walls were solid.

"Yes, my lord?" He bowed his head, eyes on the floor.

"Draco, Draco." Voldemort gave a high-pitched laugh, and Draco felt a shiver chase down his spine. He'd learned many times over that mirthful was not his favourite of Voldemort's moods. "There is something we need to discuss."

"Yes?" he asked, forcing himself to remain present. He was meant to be arranging an ambush on a rebellion safe house, and he could only hope that Hermione had prepared an adequate defense.

"It has come to my attention that one of my most faithful –" His master paused for dramatic effect, a wicked smile curving his unattractive features. "Has been a rat."

Draco's gaze rose as he expended all his efforts into conveying the proper amount of interest. "Is that so?"

"I couldn't believe it either." Voldemort laughed again, a mocking facsimile of joy. "But yet, the truth is evident. Time and again, our attacks have been thwarted. And of course, as you know, only my most trusted, my most beloved inner circle know of my plans ahead of time."

"Of course, my lord," Draco returned, dropping his head back down into a bow. "I consider myself fortunate to be among them."

Voldemort clapped his hands together. "Exactly! Draco, you and I will have fun with this. I need you to find out who has been passing along information – and together we shall deliver justice. What do you say?"

Allowing a cruel sneer to emerge, Draco forced a laugh. "My lord, you honour me. It would be my pleasure."

Voldemort's red eyes shone with delight and Draco felt a churning of bile in the pit of his stomach.

"Shall I continue preparing for the raid on the Berkshire house, my lord? It's nearly time," he questioned, his heart rampant with the need to get some air.

"Don't bother." With a dismissive wave into the air, Voldemort turned away. "Whoever has been leaking our plans will have already warned the rebellion. Let's keep them guessing for once, hmm?"

Draco swallowed, his eyes narrowing at Voldemort's retreating back. "Of course, my lord. Right away."

Scowling at the floor, Hermione paced the Berkshire house, hours after the raid was meant to have hit. They hadn't heard back from the main camp, and Harry was rabid with tension.

"What happened to this bloody informant being accountable?" he growled, glaring at his ubiquitous old map of London.

"This is the first time the information I've been provided was false." She bit the words through a clenched jaw, even as she saw Luna drift to Harry's side. Good – maybe the blonde could calm him down.

Hermione suspected Harry often turned to Luna for physical comfort – but he had no room left in his heart for another. Ever since the day they'd lost Ginny, Harry hadn't been the same. More aggressive, quicker to anger, and hellbent on revenge. It broke Hermione's heart – but the long years of war had changed them all, and she knew she was no better for it either.

Keeping her hands clasped together prevented her from fingering the galleon in her pocket, even as her heart raced at the thought that it had been hours since she'd sent Draco a message, and had yet to hear back.

It was unlike him to provide false information, and his subsequent silence had escalated the worry in her heart.

"I'll be in the other room," Hermione said, dipping her chin into a nod as she excused herself from the meeting.

While she warred with herself about sending another charmed message, the coin in her pocket warmed and she nearly jumped in her haste to read it. No one was around, and she released a long breath of relief as she slipped the coin into her hand.

NO RAID
MEET?

Her eyes pressed shut as she tapped the coin in response.

YES

The message faded from her coin, signifying its transmission, and she felt some of the panic in her heart settle – but she couldn't help but wonder what had happened.

It was a setback, but she could convince Harry that her source was still reliable. Draco had always been openly transparent of the fact that he wanted her to know everything he knew, for any slight edge it could give them.

The rest of the contingent was preparing to leave the safehouse when Hermione returned to the strategy room. Harry fired her a gruff look but didn't say anything.

"I'll be late returning to camp – figured I'd look around here for anything."

Harry waved her off, his expression softening. "This could all still be a trap – be careful."

It was convenient that one of her primary tasks for the rebellion was the location of goods and materials they could use. Her disappearances were rarely questioned.

"I will," she whispered, clapping a hand to Harry's back. "Be careful as well – we'll get them next time, yeah?"

"Yeah." He flashed her a roguish grin that didn't reach his eyes, and before they cleared out, she was gone.

His heart hammered as years of sacrifice, torture, and struggle threatened to unravel before his very eyes. He was already half a glass of Firewhisky in when Hermione arrived in the small flat that had become their escape and their home.

Settling into the second-hand chair at the small kitchen table beside him, her hand dropped to rest on his arm. "Everything okay?"

Barking out a bitter laugh, Draco took a long swig. "Not exactly."

"I'm guessing this has something to do with why the raid didn't go ahead?" she asked, and her chocolate eyes were soft when he looked over. Draco took her fingers in his, running his thumb along the back of her hand.

"He knows you have an informant in the inner circle," he announced without preamble. There were no secrets between them, and no dancing around the truth – he owed her more than that. "So he called off the raid, because he suspected you'd already been forewarned."

"Draco." The word was a whispered breath, her eyes wide, lips parted. "So what does this mean?"

Swigging the last of his drink, Draco set the empty glass aside. It wasn't the time to lose his head to excess. "He's tasked me with finding his leak." The words sounded as bitter as they tasted on his tongue.

As she frowned, she twisted her hand to entwine their fingers. "So you'll lay a false trail? Or – "

"I'll have to." Draco traced an absent pattern on the worn surface of the table. "I'll need to subject someone else – I can't risk it, Hermione."

By the look of pure devastation on her face, she'd already guessed at the punishment that would be doled out for someone who dared give up Voldemort's personal plans. And that it would be Draco responsible for the judgement.

"You can't," she whispered, her eyes glossy.

"What I can't accept is the alternative," he ground through his teeth. "It's war. I'll do what I have to – it's always been that way."

She fell silent, her hand giving his a gentle squeeze. "What will you do?"

"I'll give him someone's name." Making an effort to keep his head level and clinical usually helped. "I'll need to get my mother out of the Manor beforehand in case things go south. And Hermione, once I condemn someone else for this – I can't pass you any more information."

"Because he'll know you lied," she surmised, a quiet despair in her tone.

"Exactly." Draco frowned, the information churning through his mind. She was the warrior, and he the strategist. It was how things had fallen between them through the years. "If I take too long, he'll ask questions. I can't let the spotlight fall on me."

Hermione shook her head, moisture breaking from her eyes. "You can't – we need you. You'll have to…" she swallowed, before continuing. "You'll have to let someone else take the fall."

His voice threatened to break at the thought of it. "But who?"

How could he play God – how could he condemn someone else to death?

Over the years, Draco had come up with creative ways and even invented spells to make it appear as if his targets were dead. But yet, despite his years as a Death Eater, and the many despicable deeds he'd been forced into in order to maintain his cover and gain Voldemort's trust… Draco had never lifted his wand in murder.

He never could, when it came to anyone in the Order – when he needed them to win this war.

She didn't answer – and he couldn't expect her to. This was his burden to bear.

"But I can't yet," he went on, shaking his head. "Not until I have everything I need from him. We need information on that last Horcrux – and I can't jeopardize my position until we have it."

"Draco…" Her voice trailed off, and he clenched his jaw, knowing what she would say. They hadn't found anything yet in so long.

"There has to be something." A longing to reach for the Firewhisky chased through his veins, as if he were any other carefree young man. But he couldn't indulge those whims anymore. "Something I've missed or –"

He met Hermione's gaze, hating to see the sympathy in her stare – something akin to pity. "Draco, not now."

Forcing a swallow, he nodded, using the light in her eyes to ground him. He breathed, "Right."

Tugging their joined hands, Hermione pulled him to the couch, where he tucked her small frame into his side. Breathing deeply of the scent of her, he was jarred to realize she smelled of dust and blood.

"You need a shower," he muttered, chuckling at her scowl.

"I've been busy preparing to thwart a raid, excuse you," she snipped, and Draco laughed, suffused with genuine amusement that he hadn't felt since they'd last been together. Her fingers traced the muscles of his abdomen. "You'll have to shower with me before we leave."

Their flat had all the functional amenities – the expenses paid in Muggle notes through a fake identity – and Draco was careful to keep food in the fridge should she ever find herself in need, but he knew she rarely came by unless they were together, for fear of unwanted questions.

He grazed his teeth along the shell of her ear. "Gladly."

With a sigh, she sunk deeper into his hold. "What do you think of all this, Draco? Truly. What do you want, when this is all over?"

"You," he replied. "I want the life we could have had." A thick lump settled somewhere between his chest and his throat. "I want to change our story."

Her eyes met his. "I want that, too. We'll be through with all of this, and… we can write a different ending."

Silence hung for a long moment as her words danced around his brain. "My story will always be that of the villain – no matter how this all falls." He pursed his lips, frowning. "What if I can never escape that role?"

"You will," she whispered, a slight waver in her voice. "I have to believe you will. Because you aren't, Draco – you never truly were. And you can get out because it's in your heart. This – despite everything else, this was meant to happen."

"I have a hard time believing this was the plan for your life." He waved an absent hand at the small, run-down flat – the only place he could remember feeling happy in countless years. "Mine, maybe. I don't know that I ever had a chance to see it all clearly until it was too late."

"You were in my path for a reason," she mused. "I believe in that. You've saved my life more times than I even know, Draco – surely that has to count for something? Maybe the defining role in your story is one you've yet to play – maybe through these trials you face, you're meant to save us all."

He could never deserve her unwavering support. As he pressed a kiss into her curls, his eyes stung with moisture. "I'll have to borrow your belief, for now."

Her voice was soft as she spoke into his chest. "Hopefully I have enough left for the both of us."

Author's Note: The other two chapters will be posted in the next few days! Thanks for reading!