"Wait up!" Hermione called breathlessly as Draco reached the tarnished teapot portkey sitting on a crumbling stone wall and he stopped in his tracks, back and shoulders rigid, not turning around to look at her. This felt like the end of everything. It was a stupid damn feeling, and yet he couldn't shake it. It felt like their bubble had popped, and it was all going to fall apart now reality had encroached unavoidably. Hermione's fingers closed around his arm and then she was in front of him, worried firewhiskey coloured eyes searching over his face. Draco swallowed and cleared his throat, eyes darting away from her pink cheeks and dark windswept hair, fixing his gaze on the grass.