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Present
Draco’s hands are shaking as they grip the steering wheel. The engine hums beneath him, but the sound feels distant, almost unreal. The city around them seems like a blur, the lights just streaks of color, but he can’t focus on any of it. He can’t focus on anything except the feeling of his chest tightening, the rush of panic that threatens to choke him.
He feels like he’s standing on the edge of something, a precipice. And the worst part is, he can’t tell if it’s a leap into freedom or into destruction.
Hermione’s voice cuts through his thoughts, soft and unassuming, but he hears the concern in it.
“Draco, what’s wrong?”
He can’t look at her. Not yet. If he does, he’ll crack. She’s always been the steady one, the calm one, and he can’t let her see how badly he’s unraveling inside. He can’t let her see how much he’s afraid of losing her.
He forces out a response, his voice sharp. “Nothing, Hermione. I’m fine.” It comes out so wrong, so cold. He’s lying, and he knows it, but he doesn’t know how else to hide it. He doesn't want to burden her with his fears.
But she doesn’t buy it. She never does.
“Draco,” she says again, quieter this time. “Talk to me.”
It’s like a thread pulling at him. He wants to reach out, wants to tell her everything, but his chest feels so tight, like there’s no space left in him to breathe.
“I rent a place on Cornelia Street,” he says, the words leaving his mouth almost mechanically. He doesn’t even know why he says it. The words mean something to him, but right now they feel like a confession of some deep, insurmountable fear.
“I know,” she replies, her voice gentle, like she understands the weight behind it. “I’ve been there.”
Her words are a soft comfort, but it only makes the knot in his stomach tighten.
Cornelia Street. That apartment. Their home. It’s where everything began, where they both learned what it meant to love someone else. But it’s also where his fear began to grow, where he first felt the crushing weight of how much he had to lose.
He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but it feels like the words are stuck in his throat.
Past
Back when they were card sharks, Draco had convinced himself he was just playing a game. No stakes. No emotions. Just the thrill of the chase. But then Hermione came along, and everything changed. He had no idea what kind of game she was playing or if she was even playing at all. He didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust her.
He had thought she was leading him on, keeping him on edge, drawing him closer without ever giving him the reassurance he needed. He’d convinced himself that it was just a game for her, a passing interest that would fade once she got bored.
And that’s when he ran.
He packed his bags and left, convinced that walking away would protect him from the sting of her rejection, that it would keep him safe from the inevitable heartbreak.
But then she called.
Present
The silence in the car stretches on, heavy and suffocating, until Hermione breaks it.
“Draco,” she says again, her voice trembling slightly, and he realizes that she’s noticed. She’s noticed the way he’s pulling away. She’s noticed how the walls are going up, how he’s hiding from her.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispers, her hand gently brushing against his arm, as though to remind him she’s there.
His throat tightens. It’s like there’s a lump in his chest that won’t go away, no matter how hard he tries to breathe through it. He’s scared. Terrified, even. The thought of losing her makes his entire body tremble.
“I-I don’t know what to do,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”
The words slip out in a rush, like he’s been holding them in for far too long. His hands are clammy now, his pulse racing in his ears. He doesn’t know why he’s so scared. He’s never been the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but with her, Hermione, he feels exposed, raw.
She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she shifts closer, her hand finding his, intertwining their fingers.
“Draco,” she says softly, “you’re not going anywhere.”
The words don’t immediately soothe him. They should, but they don’t. Instead, the anxiety inside him claws at him harder, and the fear only grows.
What if she changes her mind? What if she wakes up one day and realizes I’m not enough?
Hermione must sense it, because before he knows it, she’s pulling him toward her, her arms wrapping around him, her body pressed against his. The touch, so simple, so gentle, is everything he needs and everything he fears at once. He can’t hold it back anymore.
“I hope I never lose you,” he murmurs, his voice breaking on the words. He holds onto her like she’s the only thing keeping him tethered to this reality. His arms tremble as he wraps them around her, burying his face in her hair. He inhales deeply, as if her scent could calm the chaos inside him.
She holds him tighter, her fingers gently brushing the back of his neck. “You won’t lose me, Draco,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
He doesn’t know how to believe her. He doesn’t know how to trust that this, her, won’t slip away. But in this moment, with her arms around him, her presence surrounding him, he starts to think maybe he can.
Maybe I can trust her.
“I can’t lose you,” he repeats, his voice hoarse, raw. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Her hand moves to his cheek, and she tilts his face up gently, her eyes filled with nothing but softness, nothing but reassurance. She leans in slowly, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. It’s gentle, slow, the kind of kiss that holds all the things he’s too afraid to say. It’s a promise.
“I’m not going anywhere, Draco,” she whispers against his lips, her forehead resting against his. “I’m here. I’m yours.”
The words sink into him like a balm to a wound. Slowly, the tension in his chest begins to release, but the fear is still there, buried deep inside.
“I hope I never lose you,” he whispers again, almost to himself this time, like a prayer he can’t stop praying.
She pulls him in closer, her arms holding him tightly, as if she can protect him from the storm inside. Her warmth is a comfort he doesn’t deserve, but in her embrace, he finds something he’s been searching for, peace.
Past
The streets are slick with rain as Draco storms out of the apartment, the cold droplets biting into his skin as the city seems to blur around him. His heart is thundering in his chest, but it’s not from the cold, it’s the fear, the overwhelming, suffocating fear that she might leave him.
It’s too much. Too fast. And the only way he knows how to protect himself is to run.
He doesn’t hear her footsteps at first, not over the pounding of his own heart and the sound of the rain slapping against the pavement. But then...
“Draco!”
Her voice cuts through the storm like a knife, and he stops dead in his tracks. He feels it, her presence pulling at him, reaching out to him. The emotion in her voice shakes him to his core.
“Draco, please!” Hermione calls out, breathless. “Don’t leave me! Please!”
He turns around, his heart in his throat, but he doesn’t move. Not at first. He wants to, he needs to, but his feet feel like they’re stuck in place, caught between the burning desire to run and the desperate wish to stay.
“Draco!” she calls again, louder now, her voice desperate. “Don’t you dare walk away from me, not like this!”
It’s the panic in her voice that makes him falter. He feels a crack forming in the wall he’s built around himself. He wants to go to her. But he’s scared. Terrified that if he lets her in, it will all fall apart.
Then, she’s there. In front of him. Soaked to the bone, her hair plastered to her face, eyes wide with worry. Her chest heaves with each desperate breath she takes.
“Draco...” she starts, but the words don’t come easily. She steps forward, her hands reaching for him, her fingers trembling as they graze his arms.
“I’m scared, Hermione,” he finally admits, his voice raw. “I’m scared I’ll lose you. I don’t know how to- how to be without you.”
He’s shaking now, his body trembling as the weight of his confession presses down on him.
“I can’t lose you,” he whispers, broken and bare in front of her. “I don’t think I could live with myself if I did.”
Hermione steps into him, her arms wrapping around him tightly, pulling him into her warmth. “You’re not going to lose me,” she says, her voice thick with emotion, a firm promise he isn’t sure he deserves. “I’m staying, Draco. I’ll stay with you. Always.”
He buries his face in her neck, feeling the weight of his fear lift slowly, replaced by something he never thought he could feel: hope.
“I hope I never lose you,” he whispers again, this time with more certainty.
She kisses him, soft and steady, her lips a promise that he clings to as the rain continues to fall around them.
Present
The quiet hum of the apartment fills the space, but it’s not the silence that has Draco on edge, it’s the stillness that lies between them. He watches her from across the room as she moves through their shared space, making tea, moving with that gentle grace that never fails to leave him in awe.
But his thoughts are a storm. His fears are still there, lingering, gnawing at the edges of his mind.
The rain from the past still seems to echo in his chest. He can feel the cold that soaked into his bones that night, the fear that clung to him like a shadow. What if it happens again? What if she leaves me this time?
But the difference now is, Hermione isn’t leaving. She’s here. And more than that, she’s choosing to be here.
He knows he should feel better, but the fear still clings to him like a second skin.
It’s a moment before he realizes he’s standing, moving toward her without thinking. Before he knows it, he’s behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist. She freezes for just a second, then relaxes into him, her back pressing against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice low, thick with the guilt he feels every time he lets that fear slip out.
She doesn’t turn around, doesn’t pull away. Instead, she tilts her head back, resting against his shoulder, her eyes closed in quiet understanding.
“You don’t have to apologize for that, Draco,” she says softly. “I know it’s hard. I know you’re scared. But you don’t have to be scared anymore. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”
He presses his forehead against hers, feeling the warmth of her skin, the steady rhythm of her breath. Her words settle deep into his chest, and for the first time in so long, he lets himself believe them.
“Promise me,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Promise me you won’t leave me. Promise you’ll stay.”
Her hands move to his, threading their fingers together, grounding him in the only thing he knows is real, her.
“I promise,” she says, her voice unwavering. “I’m staying. You don’t ever have to doubt that, Draco. Not for a second.”
And for the first time, he doesn’t. He doesn’t doubt her. He doesn’t doubt them.
He leans in, pressing a kiss to her temple, his breath shaky. “I hope I never lose you.”
She smiles softly, turning to face him fully, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulls him down for a kiss. It’s slow, tender, a promise, a comfort. He holds her like he’s afraid she might disappear if he lets go.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she murmurs against his lips.
And this time, he believes her.