The woman at the river was gone. Only a low rock ceiling.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. Books — there were books that had fallen open. One with grey eyes and soft lips and warm hands. She focused on closing them again, tucking them away.

Hermione's legs twitched. When had Draco stopped rubbing patterns on her shoulder? She craned her neck to look at him, and found him sleeping. His face was peaceful, and pale — almost blue.

She scrambled to face him. His arm fell limply over her shoulder.

"Draco." She ran her fingers over his cool cheeks. "Draco!"

Her lungs began seizing as she shook his robes, calling his name. Nothing. His head lolled, and her fingertips scrambled for a pulse — and when she felt a faint fluttering, she almost wept in relief.

He was alive, just barely.

A dark shadow prodded at her consciousness, and she steadied her shelves. The room wanted her to forget. It wanted him to forget, too.

Cupping his face to hers, she kissed him softly, breathing life into him.

"Draco," she whispered. "Be with me."

His eyes fluttered open, and she had to blink back her tears. "Hm?"

She brushed her fingers across his cheeks. "Can you Occlude with me, please?"

"Occlude?" He frowned, his gaze more alert. "What for?"

"Just for a moment. Please."

She stared at him, hardly daring to breathe as his eyes shuttered and blinked open. And again. This time, they were a clear grey. She stumbled off the couch as he jerked to his feet, drawing his wand. "What happened? Are you alright?"

Nodding, she pressed the heel of her palms to her eyes and swallowed her emotions.

"It was some kind of charm, for tranquility or forgetfulness. Whatever it was tried to kill us." She drew a shuddering breath and let her hands fall to her sides. Draco was gaping at her, color returning to his cheeks. "We need to keep our minds sharp."

He looked coldly over the room. "There might be something in here, then. Perhaps I came too close to something, and it tried to distract me from it."

Hermione nodded, and after another minute of Occluding, they began turning the room upside down. There were quills on the desk that seemed expensive, but not important. A paperweight — charmed like the ceiling at Hogwarts to show the Romanian sky — sat next to a stamp encrusted with the Malfoy seal. Draco pulled out every book on the shelves while she moved to the cushions, pulling them out and tipping the sofa and chairs on their sides.

And still nothing. Hermione tugged at the roots of her hair while Draco cursed. They were running out of time.

"Let me check the kitchen again," he finally said. "There's elf quarters that I could go through again."

Hermione shook her head. "Voldemort wouldn't associate his Horcrux with house-elves."

Placing her hands on her hips, she stared at the doorway leading to the drawing room and bedrooms, debating — and then spun back around with a huff.