LOVERS- Ginny & Blaise (HP)

Draco's evening had started like any other—a quiet walk through the dimly lit alleyways, moving under the cover of shadows as he navigated London's dangerous underbelly. This was his territory, one he controlled with a ruthless iron grip, cultivated through years of careful planning, strategy, and fear. But that night, something went terribly wrong.

It happened quickly—a shift in the air, a shadow where there should have been none, the sharp slice of a dagger glinting in the low light. Before he could react, a figure sprang from the darkness, their movements quick and calculated. 

Caught off guard, he barely managed to evade the first strike, the blade narrowly missing his neck as he twisted out of reach. The attacker didn't relent; they advanced, each he fought back, his reflexes honed by years of training, but the ambush had shaken him. In his world, he was the one who orchestrated ambushes, not the one caught in them. Whoever this was—they were sending a message, and they weren't afraid to strike at one of the most powerful men in the underground. The fight raged, his opponent skilled and relentless, but with one final, calculated move, Draco managed to subdue them, pinning them to the ground.

He ripped the hood back, heart hammering as he stared into a face he hadn't expected. Viktor Krum. An old acquaintance, someone who should have been an ally. Yet there he was, looking back with cold, unrecognizable eyes.

Once the dust settled, he made his way back, bruised but resolute, a series of unanswerable questions clouding his thoughts. Who had sent Krum after him? Why now? This was more than an isolated act of violence; it was an attack against the carefully constructed power he held over his domain. As he staggered into his office, his body weary but his mind alive with a thousand questions, he knew he needed answers—and quickly.

When word reached Blaise, he could barely contain his shock. This had never happened before. They had spent years building an empire, one in which no one dared challenge them. They were the attackers, the silent figures who lurked in the shadows, dealing with threats before they even arose. But now, the tables have turned. It was almost unfathomable.

The words hit Blaise like a punch to the chest, a brutal jolt that rendered him momentarily frozen in place. He felt as if the air had been knocked from his lungs, leaving him gasping in the thick silence that enveloped him. It was as if the world around him had come to a standstill, the vibrant colors of her life draining away, leaving only a muted gray. Draco had been attacked. The gravity of the news settled heavily upon him, wrapping around her like an oppressive fog, and she struggled to process the reality of it.

~~~~~~

They leaned over the massive map spread across Draco's polished desk, the silence around them thick with tension. The dim light from the single desk lamp cast sharp shadows over their faces, emphasizing the intensity in their eyes as they pored over every detail, each man acutely aware of the gravity of the situation. They had been attacked—not only a breach of their usual dominance but a threat that now required a merciless answer.

The map of London lay like a battlefield between them, meticulously plotted with colored pins and markings. The pins—reds for high-risk zones, blues for known allies, yellows for intel points—were scattered across the city, creating a complex web of possibilities. They traced invisible routes over bridges, alleyways, and safe houses, examining every known asset and hiding place. Each pin held the potential to lead them closer to the one who dared strike at Draco, to the person who had disrupted the delicate, dangerous balance they maintained.

Theo's fingers skimmed over a line connecting two blue pins on the eastern edge of the map. His gaze hardened as he tapped the desk, the precision in his touch betraying his calculated, simmering rage. "This area," his voice was barely a whisper, yet the weight of it silenced the room further, "is where they're most vulnerable to us."

He gave a grim nod, his eyes glinting with a deadly promise as he adjusted a few pins on the map, shifting their potential targets. They knew each other's strengths and weaknesses, and in this unspoken rhythm, they worked as a single force. They had always been a step ahead of the world, a unified front—but tonight, a ruthless urgency drove them to eliminate every possibility of further attack .

Draco, his jaw clenched, pushed a stack of intelligence files towards them, his steely gaze never leaving the map. The pain of the recent attack lingered in the tightness of his shoulders, a reminder of the threat that had hit too close to home. He traced a direct path through a network of high-risk zones, his eyes glinting with a dangerous intensity. "This," he finally said, his voice low, "is where we make them regret ever thinking they could come for us."

The door burst open with a resounding crash, and Hermione strode in, her eyes blazing with a fierce, unrelenting resolve that instantly captured the room's attention. The silence that followed was almost palpable; even the air seemed to thicken as her gaze fell on Draco, unwavering and sharp as steel.

Draco's eyes darkened, a flash of irritation flickering before he masked it with his usual indifference. "My love, we're in the middle of something," he murmured, his tone dismissive as he turned his attention back to the map. His voice was cool, but there was an underlying tension, as if he anticipated what was coming.

Her jaw clenched, her voice cutting through the air like a razor. "I don't care," she declared, her words as unyielding as the intensity in her gaze. "From now on, I need to know everything."

He finally looked up, taken aback by the fierce determination radiating from her. "Hermione, this isn't—"

"No, Draco." She stepped closer, eyes blazing with a fire he had rarely seen in her, a power that demanded his full attention. "No more secrets. No more half-truths. I need to know what you're planning, what risks you're taking. I won't stand by while you throw yourself into danger without telling me." Her voice was firm, a tone of finality in each syllable that left no room for negotiation.

Blaise and Theo exchanged a look, the weight of the moment settling heavily on them both. Hermione's entrance had shifted the entire atmosphere; she wasn't just angry—she was asserting herself in a way that made them all acutely aware of her presence and her importance in Draco's life. Theo leaned back, an eyebrow arched as he watched the scene unfold.

"She's got a point, Malfoy," Theo said, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and understanding. "Maybe it's time she knew. All of it."

Draco glanced between his friends and his wife, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He had always believed that keeping his dealings separate from Hermione would shield her from the darkness that surrounded his world. It was a protective instinct, one that had served him well in the past. But now, standing before her, he felt the walls he'd built around his life crumbling. She wasn't just asking for insight; she was demanding to be part of his reality, regardless of how perilous or shadowed it might be.

His gaze locked onto hers, and he could see the fierce determination etched on her face. A silent battle raged within him. He knew she was right. This wasn't just about him anymore.

With a heavy sigh, he felt the weight of his resolve slipping. His shoulders slumped slightly in defeat as he acquiesced. "Fine," he said, his voice tinged with resignation. "You want to know? Then you'll know everything."

She nodded, her eyes softening with understanding as she sensed the struggle within him. "Thank you," she whispered, stepping closer and placing a reassuring hand on his arm, her touch grounding him.

Draco turned his attention back to the map sprawled across the desk, his mind already shifting gears to the task at hand. "Alright," he said, his tone more focused now. "Let's get you up to speed."

He hesitated for a moment, casting a glance at Hermione filled with a mixture of gratitude and exasperation. "Last night, I walked right into a trap. If it weren't for my brilliant wife, I wouldn't be standing here now."

Her eyes widened in alarm, her heartbeat quickening as the gravity of his words sank in. "What happened?" she urged, her voice barely above a whisper.

Draco pressed on, his voice steady despite the urgency of the situation. "Titus and I had a plan in place, but things went sideways. As I moved through the alleyway for the drop, a hooded figure lay in wait. He attacked me, but I managed to fight him off and immobilize him." His voice lowered, almost as if speaking the name aloud might bring some dark power upon them. "It was Viktor Krum."

"Viktor?" she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. "He… he's a good man."

Theo leaned back in his chair, shaking his head slightly. "Granger, honey, he's not the same teenager you remember. We've seen him around before, and he's changed."

Blaise leaned in, unable to resist the urge to add a jab. "By the way, didn't you date him? You were, what, 14 and he was 18? Pretty creepy when you think about it."

Creepy was a gentle word.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she nodded, acknowledging the shift in focus. "Yes, it was. But that's not the point right now." Her voice regained its urgency. "What does this mean for us? For you?"

Hermione took a deep breath, willing herself to regain her composure. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, but she refused to be intimidated. "Let's focus on what we need to do next," she stated firmly, her voice steady and resolute. "We have to figure out why Viktor was involved and what this means for our plans."

Draco shifted in his chair, folding his arms as he contemplated her words. "You're right," he admitted, a hint of respect creeping into his tone. "But we're missing something crucial here."

Hermione's frustration surged as she pressed on. "You killed Karkaroff, his mentor. That's a significant move, but why is Viktor coming after you now? What does it have to do with our current situation?" She leaned forward, her gaze piercing as she searched for answers in their eyes.

"Bravo, Granger," Blaise said, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Maybe we should've had you in on these meetings from the start."

Draco shot him a warning glance, his expression serious. "Yes, but that was a year ago. We need to understand why this is happening now and what the new threat might be. There's more to this than just past grievances." He paused, his brow furrowing as he considered the implications. "We need to figure out why Viktor's actions are surfacing now and how they fit into the broader scheme."

"Granger," Theo interjected, his tone laced with curiosity. "Are you still in contact with him?"

"Yes, we exchange letters frequently," Hermione replied, her voice steady despite the rising tension in the room.

"Frequently?" Draco's voice was edged with anger, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed her words. "Why am I only finding out about this now?"

"It's innocent, love. Stop reacting like this," she said, frustration creeping into her tone. She struggled to keep her composure in the face of his sudden suspicion.

"It's not about innocence, Hermione," Draco snapped, his frustration palpable. "It's about being transparent. If Viktor is involved in something dangerous, we need to know everything, including your connections to him."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the gravity of the situation weighing down on them all. Draco's gaze remained intense as he addressed the group, his voice low and controlled. "We'll discuss this later," he said sharply, his frustration barely contained.

Turning his attention back to the map that sprawled across the desk, he felt a surge of determination to regain control of the situation. "For now, we need to focus on gathering information about the next steps," he said, his voice firm. "Theo, Blaise, you're dismissed."

The two men exchanged glances but stood up, sensing that the discussion had shifted to a more serious tone. They quietly filed out of the room, leaving Hermione and Draco alone with the weight of their conversation hanging in the air.

~~~~~~

Blaise arrived home, the familiar sensation of exhaustion mingling with relief as he stepped into the warm, dimly lit sitting room. The fire cast a gentle glow over the room, flickering across Ginny's figure as she sat curled up by the hearth, her fiery hair catching the light in brilliant hues of auburn and gold. She looked up as he entered, her gaze soft yet guarded, revealing the subtle traces of sadness that had clung to her lately. Despite her efforts to smile, he could see the shadows lurking in her eyes, the remnants of something heavy she carried in silence. Since their marriage, he had come to recognize these quieter moods in her, the times when her fire dimmed, leaving her contemplative and distant.

Wanting to bring a spark back to her evening, he approached her with a warm smile, sinking down beside her on the couch. "Trezorina," he murmured, reaching for her hand. "What are you doing today?"

Her lips curved slightly, just enough for a glimpse of her usual spirit to shine through, though her tone was teasing. "What are you doing today?" she asked, her brows lifting.

He let out a low, amused chuckle, finding her curiosity endearing. "Well," he started, his voice softening, "Draco got attacked last night. We're strategizing a response."

Her eyes widened, surprise and worry flashing across her face as she absorbed the unexpected news. For a moment, she seemed at a loss for words, a slight tremor in her voice as she responded. "Oh… okay… thank you for telling me," she finally managed, clearly unaccustomed to him sharing something so openly.

He noticed her reaction, the subtle surprise in her voice that told him just how rare it was for her to receive unfiltered honesty in this life they were building. Tilting his head, he regarded her with gentle curiosity. "Would you prefer I keep things like this to myself?"

She shook her head quickly, the mere thought dismissed with a wave of her hand. "No! I was just surprised you were honest. I want to know, yes—just maybe not… all the details, not the brutality."

He shifted closer, a seriousness in his gaze as he looked at her with unwavering tenderness. "Baby, I would never hide things from you again. You deserve to know what's going on. And I'll spare you the grisly parts—I promise," he murmured, his voice carrying a depth of sincerity that made her visibly relax.

She nodded, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her voice softened, a hint of worry beneath her usual composure. "Is Draco okay?"

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he nodded, reassuring her. "Of course. Granger was with him after the attack, and she managed to save him on time. He's alright—no harm done, at least to him. But it turns out the attacker was Krum."

She blinked, clearly taken aback as she processed the revelation. "Viktor?" she asked, brows knitting as she considered this. "He was always strange… there was something off about him."

Her expression shifted as an old unease seemed to resurface, darkening her gaze. His jaw clenched as he noticed the flicker of discomfort on her face. His protective instinct kicked in, and his eyes narrowed, a dangerous edge in his tone. "Did he ever do anything to you? I swear to Merlin, if that man ever crossed a line—"

She reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm, steadying him with her touch. "No, Blaise. He didn't," she said firmly, but her gaze grew distant for a moment as if recalling something unpleasant. "It's just… he had this way about him. Creepy. Always lingering in the wrong way."

He let out a slow, measured breath, though his gaze didn't soften entirely. It took more than words to reassure him when it came to her safety, especially when a past encounter had left even the faintest trace of discomfort on her face. "If he ever does anything that bothers you, anything at all," he murmured, his voice low and laced with an underlying threat, "you tell me immediately. You're not alone anymore, Gin."

Her hand remained on his arm, a steadying touch that seemed to convey an unspoken understanding. In the silence that followed, they held each other's gaze, the fire casting warm shadows over their intertwined hands. He sensed something shifting between them, an easing of the distance she often kept between herself and the world. Ever since their forced union, he'd sensed a guardedness in her, a silent wariness that lingered between them despite their growing closeness.

But now, as she sat there with him, her touch firm and grounding, he could feel her guard beginning to lower. She leaned slightly against him, her body language softening, as though the weight of her usual defenses had been gently lifted. In that moment, Blaise felt an overwhelming need to protect her, not just from those who might wish her harm, but from the shadows that seemed to haunt her when she thought no one was looking.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice so soft he almost missed it. Her hand tightened on his, and he could feel the sincerity in her touch, a small yet powerful gesture that spoke volumes.

His free hand came up to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Anytime, Trezorina," he murmured, his voice tender. "I'll always look out for you."

As the fire crackled softly beside them, casting warm shadows across the room, he felt a new sense of calm settle over him—a certainty, solid and grounding. Her warmth beside him was soothing, her presence like an anchor amidst the turbulent life they both led. In that moment, he realized that whatever battles lay ahead, they would face them together. The future, though unknown and shadowed by the dark edges of their world, somehow seemed less daunting with her by his side.

He shifted beside him, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips, and Ginny seemed to gather her thoughts before finally speaking, her voice soft but inviting. "Perhaps… would you like to have lunch with us?"

He raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Us?" he asked, curiosity coloring his tone as he searched her face.

Her gaze dropped to her belly, where her hands instinctively rested over the small bump that held their growing child. Her smile turned playful as she gave him a teasing look. "Yes, us. Me and the bump."

A genuine laugh rumbled from Blaise, a sound rare enough that it seemed to surprise even him. For a moment, his usual reserve softened, and he felt something warm, something almost innocent, as he looked at her. "Ah, of course," he chuckled, a lightness in his voice. "You mean with my family, don't you? I'd be honored."

Her eyes softened at his response, her hand instinctively moving to cover his on the couch between them. "I thought… Well, I thought it might be nice for us to spend time together, just… as a family." Her voice held a hint of vulnerability, and her cheeks flushed slightly as if she hadn't been entirely sure he would accept.

For Blaise, hearing her refer to them as a family touched something deep within him, a part he rarely allowed himself to consider. His life had always been compartmentalized, carefully structured around walls of protection and pragmatism. But here, with her, he felt that structure shift ever so slightly, the barriers lowering. "You know," he murmured, his gaze focused solely on her, "I don't think I've ever looked forward to a meal as much as I am right now."

Her laughter filled the room, light and genuine, and for the first time in days, the shadow that had clung to her seemed to lift just a little more. She squeezed his hand, and there was a spark in her gaze that he hadn't seen in what felt like ages. "Well, then you're in for a treat. I've got a few cravings to satisfy, and I think you're going to find them… interesting." Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she leaned closer.

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow, feigning suspicion. "Should I be worried?"

She grinned, that familiar fiery spirit reigniting. "I suppose you'll just have to wait and see. Let's just say I've developed a rather intense love for pickles with… well, I'll let you find out."

He chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully. "Pickles, hm? I'll brace myself."

The silence that followed was comfortable, each of them content in the shared warmth of the moment. His gaze drifted back to her, a question lingering on his lips, one he hadn't dared to voice before. Baby… have you thought about what this all means for us? This… family?"

Her eyes softened, her expression thoughtful as she looked into the fire, her hand still resting protectively over her stomach. "I have," she admitted, her voice quiet, almost tentative. "I never thought my life would look like this. But… somehow, I feel like we're exactly where we're supposed to be." She looked back at him, her gaze steady and sincere. "I don't know what our future holds. But I know I want us to face it together, all of us."

His heart swelled at her words, the weight of them settling warmly in his chest. With her hand in his, Blaise felt something he'd long kept hidden away—hope. It was a fragile thing, a spark he'd always thought was better left untouched, but here, in this quiet moment, it bloomed into something undeniable.

"Then together it is," he murmured, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a tender kiss against her knuckles, a vow etched in his heart.

As they lingered over the remnants of their lunch, the atmosphere still warm with shared laughter and tender moments, the flames in the fireplace suddenly leapt to life, swirling with a vibrant green. Before they could fully react, Draco's voice filled the room, his tone urgent and clipped.

"Blaise! We're ready—Hermione's got a plan," he announced, his words pressing forward with an almost unspoken expectation of immediate action.

He groaned, rolling his eyes in exasperation as he glanced over at her. "Can a man have lunch in peace? Bloody hell." Despite the irritation in his voice, there was a resigned humor to it, as if he'd expected this all along.

He turned to Ginny, and his expression softened. Beneath the bravado, a hint of sadness lingered in his gaze, as if torn between duty and the unexpected intimacy of their time together. "I'm sorry," he murmured, voice low. "I don't want to leave you. Not now."

She offered him a reassuring smile, though her own disappointment was evident. She reached out, squeezing his hand. "It's alright. Really. I had a wonderful time. Just you and me… and a suspicious amount of pickles," she joked lightly, hoping to lift his spirits.

He let out a soft chuckle, his thumb tracing over her fingers. "Me too, my love. More than you know."

A moment of quiet passed, then her voice softened, barely above a whisper. "Is… is Hermione alright?"

His face softened even more at the concern in her voice. He leaned forward, catching her gaze. "She's holding up," he assured her gently. "Baby… you should talk to her. She misses you."

Her eyes dropped, a hint of regret mingling with sadness. "I don't know. She… she hates me now."

A sigh escaped him, and he cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb along her skin with reassuring gentleness. "She doesn't hate you. Granger could never hate you. You were like sisters once. She hasn't forgotten that, not for a moment." He hesitated, then offered, "Would you like me to tell her something from you? Or maybe bring something for her?"

She shook her head slowly, an uncertain smile playing on her lips. "No, I… I don't know what to say. I feel like such a terrible friend for letting it get this bad."

"Listen," he said softly, leaning in closer, his voice filled with understanding. "It's not my place to judge your friendship, but I can tell you this—you both miss each other. You've both been through hell, and maybe that's why it's hard right now. But when I get home, we'll talk about it, okay? You don't have to go through this alone."

Hee lips trembled into a grateful smile. "Promise me you'll come back soon?" she whispered, her fingers tightening around his.

He nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, a quiet vow. "I'll be home as soon as I can, baby. I swear it. In the meantime, why don't you visit Pansy? She's dying to show off that new puppy of hers. I think she named it something ridiculous, like Princess."

Ginny laughed, a genuine warmth lighting up her face. "Princess? Oh, Pansy would name her dog something like that."

He chuckled, savoring the lightness in her voice, before standing reluctantly. "Yes, well, it's absurdly adorable and probably just the thing you need to distract you for a bit. Give her my regards, and keep yourself safe, alright?"

With a final glance, he brushed his fingers over her hand, savoring the last moment before he reluctantly stepped back. "I'll be back before you know it. We'll pick up right where we left off," he promised, his eyes filled with warmth and determination.

And as he disappeared through the fireplace, she found herself holding on to the promise, her heart lifting with the anticipation of their next meeting, the warmth of their shared moments lingering like the fading warmth of the fire.

~~~~~~

Within five minutes, Theo, Blaise, and, surprisingly, Luna stood in the living room.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Luna, what are you doing here?"

Luna smiled serenely. "I was having a date with my husband when he got the call, so I came along."

Blaise frowned slightly. "Luna, you're too delicate for this kind of thing."

"I am not!" Luna stood her ground, her usual dreamy demeanor replaced by something steely. "We don't know each other that well, do we, Blaise?" she challenged.

He glanced at Theo for confirmation, unsure how to respond. Theo simply nodded in approval, a silent affirmation of Luna's strength.

He sighed, realizing he'd underestimated Luna. "Alright then, let's get to work."

Hermione took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. "So, here's the plan: I'll write to Viktor. He knows about the marriage law, but he doesn't know who I'm married to. I'll invite myself over, and when the time is right, I'll drug him."

Theo leaned forward, a smirk playing on his lips. "Granger, that's actually a good idea."

Draco, however, wasn't convinced. "It. Is. Not," he hissed through gritted teeth. "This is reckless."

She met his gaze evenly. "Reckless, maybe. But do you have a better plan?"

"I can accompany her," Luna said brightly, "like a girl's trip."

Theo's eyes flashed with a rare intensity. "No, absolutely not. It's too dangerous. I'm not letting you walk into something like this, Luna. Not ever."

Hermione frowned, feeling a pang of guilt. "Theo, she was just offering to help."

"I don't care," Theo snapped. 

Draco and Theo exchanged a look of alarm.

"No, absolutely not," Theo shot back, his voice sharp and firm. "This isn't a casual trip to the woods my love. It's dangerous."

Luna tilted her head, unfazed by his tone. "But that's why I should go. Two people are safer than one, and who would suspect us?"

"Because it's not just about being unsuspected," Theo argued. "It's about the risk, Luna. I won't let you put yourself in harm's way."

"Then who?" Hermione asked, her eyes shifting between Draco and Theo.

"Take Parkinson with you," Blaise suggested, leaning back in his chair. "She's been on missions like this before. She knows what she's doing."

Hermione hesitated, considering the idea. "Pansy? I don't know…"

"She's resourceful," Draco added, his expression thoughtful. "And she's not afraid to do what needs to be done."

Theo gave a reluctant nod. "If it has to be someone, Pansy's the best choice. She won't let anything slip."

Hermione sighed, finally agreeing. "Alright. I'll ask Pansy to go with me. But we do this carefully."

"Carefully and quickly," Draco corrected, his tone serious. 

~~~~~~

Now, it was time to put the plan into motion. Pansy stood in front of the mirror, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement. The weight of the moment pressed down on her, and she just hoped that everything would go as smoothly as they had planned. Each detail mattered; failure was not an option. They had rehearsed every step, anticipated every obstacle, and now it was time to turn their plans into reality.

Together, Hermione and Pansy prepared meticulously, leaving nothing to chance. The atmosphere in Pansy's lavish mansion crackled with energy as they moved through the process with a fierce determination. Hermione bustled around, gathering the final ingredients and tools they needed for their mission, her focus sharp and unwavering. She had always been the more analytical of the two, and tonight was no exception. 

Meanwhile, Pansy stood in front of her vanity, carefully applying her makeup with practiced precision. She selected deep, sultry shades that accentuated her striking features—smoky eyes that hinted at mischief, and a bold red lip that demanded attention. As she layered on the makeup, she felt the adrenaline coursing through her veins, heightening her senses. 

Hermione joined her, a flurry of movement and purpose. Together, they transformed the room into a chaotic whirlwind of preparations. Pansy watched Hermione's hands as they deftly sorted through their supplies, arranging potions and tools with an expert's touch. The sight was oddly reassuring. Hermione's meticulousness countered Pansy's more impulsive nature, creating a balance that was crucial for the success of their plan.

Finally, as they stood back to assess their efforts, both women looked stunning—strikingly sexy and confident, ready to play their parts flawlessly. Their outfits clung to their curves in all the right places, enhancing their natural allure while still exuding an air of sophistication. The fabric shimmered under the soft glow of the chandelier, reflecting their resolve to seize the night.

Pansy's heart raced as she admired their reflections in the mirror, a wave of empowerment washing over her. In that moment, she felt unbreakable, a force to be reckoned with. Hermione stood beside her, radiating a quiet strength, and together they looked like a pair of warriors ready for battle.

As they slipped into their heels, the sound echoed through the room, marking the transition from preparation to action. They exchanged knowing glances, a silent agreement passing between them that they were in this together, no matter the outcome. The stakes were high, but so was their determination. 

Draco was waiting in the living room, his sharp gaze cutting through the dim light as he watched Hermione and Pansy enter. His expression tightened, and he felt a flash of irritation shoot through him. "You can't go out like that," he said, his voice tense, each word laced with concern. "You're barely wearing anything!"

Pansy glanced at him, her lips curling into a smirk that radiated defiance. "Draco darling, mind your own business," she retorted, her tone light and unbothered. She was well aware of the effect she had on him and reveled in it, a subtle power play that only intensified his frustration. 

As if on cue, the atmosphere shifted with the arrival of Theo, Blaise, and Neville. The door swung open, and they stepped into the room, exuding an air of camaraderie that immediately lightened the mood. Neville's eyes immediately sought out Pansy, and a slow, genuine smile spread across his face as he took in her striking appearance. "You look delicious, my bloom," he said, pulling her into his arms with an ease that spoke volumes about their connection.

Draco, still agitated and unable to shake his protective instincts, gestured toward the two women. "Are you not outraged by how good they look?!" His frustration hung in the air, the tension palpable as he struggled with his feelings of possessiveness.

Neville shook his head, unfazed by Draco's distress. "I am not. Parky always looks amazing," he replied, his calm certainty cutting through the tension like a soothing balm. His eyes sparkled with admiration, making it clear he had no qualms about the outfit that had sparked Draco's ire.

Hermione, feeling the impatience building within her, stepped forward to take charge of the situation. "Enough of this. Everyone knows what to do." Her voice was firm, commanding attention as she sought to refocus the group's energy on the task at hand. 

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the impending mission settling in. The seriousness of their purpose hung in the air like a thick fog, and they all understood the gravity of the moment. 

"We do," they answered in unison, their voices echoing with a sense of unity. Each of them was acutely aware of the stakes, their bond forged through shared experiences and the knowledge that they were stronger together. 

Pansy felt a surge of adrenaline course through her as they prepared to embark on their plan. She exchanged a quick glance with Neville, who gave her a reassuring nod, and she felt her confidence swell. They were ready to face whatever challenges awaited them, and as the anticipation hung thick in the air, she knew they would not back down. 

With the tension slowly dissipating, they began to strategize, the playful banter that usually accompanied their gatherings replaced by focused determination. Draco's earlier agitation melted away, replaced by a resolute sense of purpose as they set their sights on the task ahead. 

As they gathered in a tight circle, Hermione took the lead, her voice steady and clear as she outlined their plan. The camaraderie amongst them deepened, and in that moment, Pansy felt a flicker of hope that they would not only succeed but also emerge stronger than before. 

~~~~~~

Hermione's mind raced as her body reacted purely on instinct. Panic surged through her veins like wildfire, and in a desperate frenzy, she fumbled for the emergency button on her bracelet, pressing it repeatedly as if her life depended on it. The weight of the situation bore down on her, each second stretching into an eternity.

In an instant, four shadowy figures materialized in the room, their forms obscured by swirling black smoke that danced ominously around them. Without hesitation, one of the figures lunged at Viktor, gripping him with a force that left no room for resistance. Hermione could hardly breathe, her heart thundering in her chest as she stood frozen in stunned disbelief, trying to comprehend the chaotic turn of events that had unraveled in mere moments.

"That was the last time you ever touched someone, Krum," one of the figures hissed, their voice a chilling whisper that cut through the tension like a knife.

Viktor, his eyes wide with shock, struggled to regain his composure, but before he could react, he was thrown forcefully against the wall. The impact was jarring, and Hermione felt a surge of vindication mixed with fear. He attempted to fight back, to summon the strength that had once made him a formidable opponent, but the figure's spell rendered him immobile, leaving him suspended in mid-air, powerless.

Time seemed to slow as Hermione watched in dazed disbelief. Her heart raced, not only from the adrenaline coursing through her but also from the relief that the immediate threat was being neutralized. It was happening. They were executing the plan, and she was finally free from Viktor's grasp.

With a swift motion, Draco levitated Viktor into the bedroom, his expression grim but focused. The door clicked shut behind them with an unsettling finality, ensuring their privacy as he removed the smoky mask that obscured his identity. Draco's eyes were fierce, a stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions swirling inside Hermione.

As silence enveloped the room, Neville glanced around, concern etched deep in his features. "Where's Pansy?" he asked, his voice low and tense, his eyes searching for any sign of her.

Hermione's heart sank momentarily as she realized they hadn't accounted for Pansy's whereabouts amidst the chaos. "She's in the bathroom," she replied quickly, urgency lacing her words.

Without another moment's hesitation, Neville moved silently toward the bathroom, his footsteps barely audible against the polished floor.

Dimitar, Victor's friend, hung upside down from the ceiling, his body a grotesque silhouette against the dim lighting of the room. Blood gushed from a deep gash that cut from his stomach to his neck, pooling ominously on the floor beneath him, where it mingled with the remnants of their chaotic night. His eyes, once filled with curiosity and charm, were now wide with shock and fear, struggling to comprehend the brutal turn of events.

The sight was horrific, a stark testament to the lengths they had gone to in order to execute their plan. Dimitar's breaths came in shallow gasps, the weight of his situation evident as he swayed slightly, his limbs contorted in a way that defied all logic. Each drop of blood that escaped him painted a picture of desperation, a chilling reminder of the violent undercurrents that had driven them all to this moment.

Neville stood frozen in the doorway, his heart racing and mind reeling from the gruesome scene before him. "Love, this is… intense," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, a mix of disbelief and admiration threading through his words. "But you've definitely outdone yourself."

Pansy gazed down at her dress with exaggerated dismay, her eyes widening dramatically as if she'd just discovered a shocking revelation. "Oh, FUCK! Look at my dress! Just look at it—utterly ruined!" With a flourish, she twirled around, showcasing the bloodstains splattered across the fabric like tragic art. "This was an exquisite piece, and now it's—well, it's a complete disaster!"

Neville, unable to contain his amusement, let out a chuckle. "Quite the opposite, bloom. I must say, I'm impressed."

Pansy threw her hands up in a theatrical gesture, her frustration spilling over. "Well, at least the job's done, but how could this happen? The color was perfect for tonight!" She let out an exaggerated sigh, her expression a melodramatic mix of frustration and mock grief. "I suppose I'll have to find a replacement. But you must admit, the stain adds a certain… character, doesn't it?"

Neville laughed, shaking his head at her flair for the dramatic. He stepped closer and took her hand gently, his touch warm and reassuring. "Let's get you cleaned up. The dress may be ruined, but you're still as radiant as ever."

Pansy looked at him, her expression softening slightly. "You really think so?" she asked, a hint of vulnerability breaking through her dramatic facade.

"Absolutely," he replied with sincerity. "No amount of blood can overshadow your shine."

Pansy rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Alright then, lead the way. I may be a disaster, but at least I'm a glamorous one!"

What the actual fuck. Blaise understood loving someone blindly, but this on another level.

~~~~~~

Draco apparated everyone back to his house. 

Once they had settled, they gathered around the fireplace, the warmth of the flames offering a stark contrast to the coldness of the night's events. The crackling fire cast flickering shadows on their faces, and the room fell into a heavy silence as they absorbed the weight of the day's actions.

"I have no answers from Krum. We're still on the lookout," he said, his voice carrying the weight of the unresolved tension.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Draco cut her off, his tone firm. "Darling, you are not allowed to go on any missions with us ever again."

"But —" she started.

"I said not again," Draco interrupted, his eyes meeting hers with an unyielding resolve.

Everyone went home, each of them carrying the weight of the night's events. The house fell into a quiet stillness, the crackle of the fire being the only sound that punctuated the silence.

~~~~~~

Blaise arrived late that night, the hour silent and heavy, but Ginny was waiting for him. She sat in the dimly lit living room, a book in her hands, though her eyes hadn't moved across the pages in a while. The sound of the fireplace coming to life made her stiffen.

When he stepped inside, her breath hitched. His clothes were still streaked with dried blood, the scent faint but unmistakable, clinging to him like an accusation.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw her, his dark eyes flickering with guilt. "Baby…" he began, his voice soft, almost apologetic. "I thought you'd be asleep."

She rose slowly, her hands resting on her pregnant belly. Her expression was calm, but her eyes betrayed her shock. "Blaise," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Are you… alright?"

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, leaving a smear of dried blood near his jawline. "I'm fine," he replied, though his voice carried a weight that suggested otherwise. "I didn't do anything. Just… cleanup."

Her brow furrowed, and she took a tentative step forward. "Cleanup?"

He hesitated before nodding, the shadow of the night's events lingering in his posture. "Viktor. He tried to force himself on Granger. Luckily, she pressed the emergency button. We were there in seconds." His jaw tightened, his tone turning grim. "She's alright. He's… not."

Her lips parted, but no words came immediately. The truth of what he was saying settled like a stone in her chest. "Oh…" was all she could manage at first.

He stepped closer, his gaze searching hers, desperate to gauge her reaction. "Was it too much? Did I upset you? I thought… I thought you'd be asleep. I didn't mean for you to see this—"

She cut him off, shaking her head. "No," she said quickly. "You didn't upset me. It's just… gruesome to hear." Her voice wavered, betraying the conflict in her heart.

He exhaled sharply, his shoulders slumping. "I don't know what to say, Gin. This is what I do. What I've always done."

"I don't like it," she said quietly, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach.

"I know," he murmured, his voice laced with a rare vulnerability. "I'm aware, baby. If it's too much, I can ask the Ministry to relocate you, to free you from all this."

"No!" she snapped, her voice rising unexpectedly. The force of her response made him freeze, his eyes locking onto hers in confusion.

"Then tell me what to do," he said, his tone pleading now. "I'll do anything. Just… tell me."

"Come closer," she said, her voice low, commanding.

He obeyed, stepping toward her slowly, cautiously, as if she were a wild animal poised to strike.

And strike she did.

Her hand came up fast and sharp, slapping him hard across the face. The sound echoed in the quiet room. He stumbled back slightly, his hand instinctively going to his cheek, his expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"You never hit me…" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's been a long time coming," she replied, her tone sharp, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She stepped closer, poking a finger into his chest. "Do not ever come home like this again. You upset the bump."

He stood in front of her, his eyes locked onto her face. The moment seemed to stretch into infinity, a silent tension filling the room. He let out a low, sinister chuckle, a sound that sent a shiver down her spine.

"And I have something for you too, something that's a long time coming," he said, his voice a dark murmur.

Her breath hitched. "I... Blaise..." she started, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

In one swift motion, he grabbed her nightgown and tore it off, baring her body to him. She gasped, her hands flying to cover herself, but he was quicker. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm behind her back, the sudden movement causing her to yelp in pain and surprise.

"Kneel," he ordered, pushing her towards the closest couch. She complied, her heart pounding in her chest.

"I'm so sorry that I hit you... but you really deserved it," she whispered, her eyes cast downwards.

He tilted her chin upward, his grip firm yet controlled, his eyes locking onto hers. "Every time I come home from a mission," he said, his voice low and commanding, "this is how I want to find you—waiting for me. On your knees. Do you understand?"

Her breath hitched as she nodded, her cheeks flushed with a mix of anticipation and submission.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a rough caress.

"Now," he said, his thumb brushing over her lips. "Open for me."

Obediently, she parted her lips, her tongue darting out to meet the tip of his hardness. Slowly, she traced the sensitive ridge, savoring the salty taste of him. Encouraged by her eagerness, he gathered her hair in one hand, holding it firmly at the nape of her neck.

"Take me," he commanded, his voice thick with desire.

She leaned in, inch by inch, her warm mouth enveloping him. He groaned low in his throat, his hips rocking forward in a slow rhythm as she worked him with deliberate, practiced motions. The heat between them was electric, each movement stoking the fire higher.

When he pulled back, saliva clung to her lips, dripping down her chin. He cupped her face, his thumb wiping her mouth tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his gaze.

"You look like a goddess," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, reverent and awestruck.

Still holding her gaze, he helped her to her feet, his hands gliding over her curves as though mapping her body anew. He kissed her knees, lingering there, his lips brushing over her skin like a vow.

"You're mine," he said again, his voice deep and possessive, yet soft as velvet. His hands cradled her face with reverence, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. "And I'll never stop reminding you of that."

Her breath hitched, and a shiver ran down her spine as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over hers.

"Get on all fours, my love," he murmured, the command laced with desire and warmth.

Without hesitation, she complied, sinking onto the couch. Her knees pressed into the plush cushions, and she arched her back, pushing her bum into the air while lowering her chest and face. Her breath quickened as his hands skimmed down her back, a touch both soothing and electrifying.

He kneeled behind her, his fingertips trailing an excruciatingly slow path from her slick folds to the curve of her behind. Her moan was soft, yet it resonated through the room, her body arching instinctively toward him.

"Perfect," he whispered, almost to himself, his voice filled with awe.

His hands wandered forward, cupping her breasts and softly pinching her nipples, tugging just enough to elicit a gasp from her lips. Her body trembled, every nerve ending alight with anticipation.

He leaned in, pressing kisses along her spine before pulling back. "I want to see all of you," he said, an idea sparking in his mind. With a flick of his wand, a full-length mirror appeared, positioned in front of the couch.

Her eyes widened when she caught sight of their reflection. She tried to look away, her face flushing with both embarrassment and arousal, but his hand gently turned her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze in the mirror.

"Don't look away," he murmured, his tone firm but tender. "I want you to see what I see. Watch yourself come apart for me."

Her lips parted to protest, but all that came out was a shaky exhale. She nodded, surrendering fully to him.

With deliberate care, he trailed his tongue from her slick entrance to the sensitive curve of her ass, his movements slow and measured. She whimpered, her hands gripping the cushions for support. He whispered a lubrication charm before slipping a finger into her bum, teasing her with the gentle stretch as his other hand slid between her thighs to explore her warmth.

"Please," she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please…"

"Patience, my love," he cooed, adding another finger to stretch her further. "I want to take my time with you."

Her body writhed beneath him, desperate for more, and he couldn't hold back any longer. He positioned himself behind her, the tip of his cock brushing against her entrance before he pushed in slowly, filling her inch by inch. She cried out, her body shaking as he stilled, letting her adjust.

"You feel incredible," he rasped, his hands gripping her hips as he began to move. His rhythm was steady, each thrust measured, sending waves of pleasure through her.

"Touch yourself," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "And don't you dare come until I tell you."

Her hand snaked between her thighs, her fingers finding her clit as he plunged deeper. Her moans grew louder, her body trembling as she teetered on the edge.

"Can you come for me, darling?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "Can you let go while I watch your beautiful face?"

She whimpered, her reflection in the mirror showing her flushed cheeks and parted lips. "Touch my nipples," she begged, her voice breathless. "Please…"

His hands moved to her breasts, rolling her sensitive peaks between his fingers. Her cries grew louder, her body tensing as she finally let go, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her reflection in the mirror was one of pure ecstasy, her head thrown back, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure consumed her.

The sight pushed him over the edge, and he spilled inside her with a guttural groan, his hands gripping her hips to keep her steady. They stayed locked together for a moment, their breaths heavy and mingled in the quiet aftermath.

He leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "You were such a good girl," he whispered, his voice full of adoration. "You're always incredible."

She managed a shaky smile, her body still trembling from the intensity of it all. "I love you," she murmured, her voice soft and sincere.

"And I love you, more than life itself." he replied, gathering her in his arms as they sank onto the couch together, the world outside forgotten.