            "Oh trust me, darling, you won’t catch me giving my life when Black’s is so obviously expendable. I am not, however, going to assume either of us will walk away from this tragedy of a winter without consequences. Your status as Gryffindor’s Princess may keep you from any punishments too permanent, and allow you to find Draco in America, but I...I see no such leniency for myself. Not after that Skeeter article condemning me as your kidnapper and corrupter." Lucius strode forward, closing the distance between them before Hermione could think to back away. He caught her wrist, ignoring her sharp intake of breath. "I will apparate with you to France, and I will follow through on this prophecy. If you promise me you’ll deliver the letter." His fingers seared hotter into her flesh. "Please."