"We are real. This is real." Draco had barely drawn back from her mouth so that his lips brushed against hers as he spoke, her nose nuzzled alongside his, and Hermione stared into his eyes, drowning herself in what she read in them. "And the war..." Draco continued hesitantly, and then paused, drew breath. His eyes were unnaturally bright and somehow pleading, and Hermione instinctively brought her hand up to cradle the curve of his cheek, the faintest sandpaper of stubble whispering against her palm.