I skipped through most of the part involving Sirius Black and all that because that doesn't have anything to do with y/n or Draco and I lowkey didn't wanna write all that lol. So this part starts after Hermione turned time.

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(Y/n)'s POV

As Draco and I stealthily made our way toward Hagrid's hut, we wove through the thick underbrush on the side, careful to remain hidden among the trees. We chose this more secluded path over the usual exposed trail, wanting to avoid any prying eyes. Seeing as just outside, his friends lounged against the stone pillars, eagerly waiting to watch Buckbeak's execution, "Lovely friends you have, by the way," I whispered, though I wasn't sure why since I had no doubt we were alone here.

The sunlight filtered through the leaves above, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor, and the warm air was filled with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant small creatures stirring around us, "They're just idiots." He mumbled. He had sent them off after we saw them, but we still went the solitude route as a precaution for anyone else that might show up.

Once we were about to reach Hagrid's hut, we both froze as we stumbled upon two figures who had their backs to us, looking at Hagrid's. They heard us almost immediately and spun around, their expressions a mix of bewilderment and surprise at our unexpected appearance. Harry's eyes widened, and he instinctively reached for his wand, while Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion.

"What are you two doing out here?" she whispered, glancing around as if expecting someone to leap out from behind a tree.

Draco, being his usual self was the first to speak. "We could ask you the same thing, Granger." I held my breath when he spoke to her and waited for the slur, but released when he chose not to disrespect her as he did in Hogsmeade. I suppose he is capable of listening.

I struck his arm lightly, prompting him to shoot me a sharp glare. "Ignore him, we came to save Buckbeak."

"We came to save Buckbeak." Hermione interjected, her eyes flitting between us before settling on Draco, "You, you're a vile loathsome little cockroach, you're the reason this is even happening in the first place!" She shouted at him.

"You come to watch it happen, Malfoy?" Harry spat, his angered eyes on his enemy. With determination, he brandished his wand and advanced towards him. I could feel the tension in the air thickening, a noticeable heat that threatened to erupt. But I knew we couldn't afford to let our emotions get the better of us—not now, not when Buckbeak's fate hung in the balance.

I swiftly stepped in his way, completely blocking him from getting any closer to Draco. "Harry, wait," I implored, urgency lacing my tone. He halted, surprise etched across his features, his wand now pointed at my chest as if I were the enemy. "Yes, this is undoubtedly Draco's fault, but he's making an effort to fix it. I think we should at least give him a chance."

I could see the conflict in his eyes, the desire to confront Draco battling against the need to stay focused on the goal.

"Remove that wand from her, Potter, before I snap it like a twig." Draco maneuvered around me, his wand now firmly in hand, aimed directly at Harry.

Harry glanced at the wand still pressing into my skin and hastily withdrew it, as if he had forgotten it was even there. "I'm sorry," he murmured to me, though I noticed how his gaze shifting between Draco and I, as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle.

"It's alright," I reassured him, "We're all a bit on edge right now."

"Listen up, everyone, we're running out of time," Hermione declared, her gaze locked onto the watch that hung from her neck. "If we're going to make this happen, we need to act now." She said as she placed it back underneath her jacket.

Just then, I caught the sound of voices drifting from Hagrid's hut. One was unmistakably Dumbledore's, while another belonged to the Minister of Magic, a man I had encountered far too often for my liking. There was also a third voice that was unfamiliar to me. "Lucius, I didn't expect to see you here," Hagrid remarked, prompting us to inch closer to the treeline for a better view of the adults conversing through the open window.

"I wanted to ensure that everything was handled correctly," the unfamiliar voice replied, stepping into the light. My heart raced as I recognized him instantly. I turned to Draco, noticing the way he swallowed hard, the tension evident in the way his throat moved, "That thing almost killed my son after all."

A collective gaze fell upon Draco, our expressions tinged with irritation. It took him a moment to notice our stares, and when he finally did, he squinted at us,. "Alright, it was only a scratch, I get it. Now just let it go and let's rescue this wretched chicken before I change my mind," he grumbled, still crouched as he emerged from the shadows of the trees.

"Stop calling him a chicken," I murmured, trailing behind him. Harry and Draco led the way, while Hermione and I followed closely, the two boys moving forward, though Draco seemed a touch more hesitant than Harry. "Bow your head," I reminded them, and Draco complied first, bowing his head—something he should have done long ago to prevent us from being in this predicament.

Buckbeak responded by lowering his head as well before settling back down, blissfully unaware of his death sentence. Draco seized the chain, undoing it from the post and tugging at it with frustration. "Come on, you stupid bird," he grumbled, glancing from Buckbeak to the window, likely hoping no one was seeing us out here.

Harry joined in, grasping the chain to assist him, but the stubborn hippogriff remained unmoved. "Come on, Buckbeak, please," he urged, straining with all his might, yet it seemed to have little effect.

We all froze as the door to the hut creaked open. "I believe I should add my signature as well, Minister," Dumbledore's voice rang out, causing the door to hesitate, opening only a crack.

"I suppose you're correct," the Minister replied, and thankfully, the door closed once more.

Lucius Malfoy's scoff echoed through the air, unmistakable and sharp, I'd know it anymore, it sounded exactly like Draco. "Hurry up, you're all wasting time," he called out, impatience dripping from his words.

Hermione's eyes shined with resolution as she exclaimed, "I have an idea!" Without waiting for a response, she dashed away, only to return moments later, her hands full with a collection of dead ferrets, some draped around her neck like jewelry.

I stared at her in bewilderment. "Where on earth did you find those?" It felt as though they had materialized from nowhere.

"Hagrid has a whole crate of them just over there," she explained, lifting one of the ferrets high, its limp body drawing Buckbeak's curious gaze. The majestic hippogriff tilted his head, his sharp eyes narrowing as he inspected what she had, "Come on now." She encouraged him and it only took seconds for him to stand up and walk in her direction.

She tossed one into the air, and he snatched it effortlessly, his reflexes sharp and precise. With a determined stare, she extended another, coaxing it toward the edge of the forest. We all edged back cautiously beside her, but movements halted when the door to the hut swung wide open. Buckbeak swooped in, snatching the ferret from Hermione's grasp, and she raised her hands in surrender, as if caught at gun point. Our hearts raced wildly, the sound reverberating in our ears like an unyielding drumbeat of anxiety. Our eyes were wide with fear as we prepared for them to see us and harsh punishment would no doubt follow.

Draco, with a protective instinct, clasped my hand and moved me behind him, shielding me from view.

The adults emerged from the hut, their backs turned to us, Dumbledore weaving a tale that drew their attention away from our hiding spot. They still had no idea we were there, "Throw him another ferret, let's go," Draco urged in a whisper. leading me back toward the trees, with Harry and Hermione hastily trailing behind with Buckbeak.

As we ventured further into the dense forest, the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows and chilling the air with each passing moment. At last, after what felt like an eternity of weaving through the trees, we paused. Hermione knelt down to offer Buckbeak the remaining ferrets.

She and Harry exchanged a glance towards the sky, then turned their eyes to one another, and finally to us. "We have somewhere we need to be," she said, her voice steady yet urgent. "Can we count on you to stay here with him? Once it's safe, head back to Hagrid's and have him take care of Buckbeak." Her gaze lingered on me, but a fleeting look at Draco hinted at the tension that still simmered between them, even as she acknowledged his role in the rescue.

"Of course," I replied, eager to help. "But where—"

Before I could finish, she pulled me into a swift hug. "Thank you. We'll see you back at the school."

Harry hugged me too, but glared at Draco the entire time, "Don't stay in the woods too long." He whispered into my ear. With that, they run up a small hill, leaving us behind in the gathering dusk.

💚🐍

Buckbeak finally settled onto the ground, and with a hint of hesitation, Draco began to stroke his feathers. I observed his soft expression, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he offered the hippogriff a scratch that seemed to please it. "Are you feeling guilty for nearly ending his life yet?" I questioned.

Draco lifted his gaze to meet mine, his hand falling away from Buckbeak, who promptly nudged it, as if pleading for more attention. "No comment," he replied curtly, resuming his gentle caress until Buckbeak playfully nipped at his fingers. "Well, he's safe now. Does this mean you'll still consider talking to me?"

As I drew nearer, a soft tune escaped my lips, "Of course, but only after you say you're sorry."

"I've already said I'm sorry," he replied, his eyes narrowing with defiance, a stubborn set to his jaw.

I rolled my eyes, "Not to me, to Buckbeak." My voice softened slightly, but the underlying frustration was still there.

His eyebrows shot up, and a mischievous grin danced on his lips, as if he found the whole situation amusing. "You really want me to apologize to a chicken?" he teased, his tone light and mocking, as if the very idea was absurd.

"Quit calling him a chicken," I retorted, irritation creeping into my voice once more.

"Okay fine, but what exactly do you want me to say?" He crossed his arms and leaned on the nearest tree, his eyes momentarily on Buckbeak before he looked back at me.

I hummed in thought as I clapped my hands together, approaching him just a little more, "How about something along the lines of 'I'm sorry for being an annoying little coward and not understanding your majestic nature.'"

He pushed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, clearly annoyed, "How about, no."

"I'm kidding," I chuckled at his annoyance, "Just be sincere. Buckbeak can sense your intentions, you know. He's not just a mindless creature; he's intelligent and proud. He deserves an apology that reflects that."

Draco let out a deep, weary sigh. "Alright then," he muttered, pushing himself away from the tree's rough bark and kneeling beside Buckbeak. "I'm sorry for—" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "For calling you a chicken and nearly getting your head cut off. There, I said it." Rising to his feet, he met my gaze. "Are you satisfied now?"

I exhaled slowly, sensing that this was likely the best apology I would get out of him. "It didn't come off as very sincere, but I suppose it'll do."

Noticing my lack of enthusiasm, he glanced down at the ground. "I'm really sorry for acting like a spoiled child and almost getting you killed. You didn't deserve it, you're actually kind of...cute." This time, his tone carried a weight of sincerity, and as he looked back at me, I couldn't help but smile. "Is that better?"

"Much better."

He stepped towards me as he breathed heavily through his nose, "You're such a pain." he mumbled, a trace of frustration in his tone.

I smirked, remembering his teasing words from a few nights earlier. "You like it."

In response, he grabbed the fabric of my shirt, his fingers curling around the material with a possessive grip. He pulled me toward him, closing the distance between us in an instant, and the playful exchange was abruptly cut off as his lips crashed against mine.

I melted into him, my heart racing as I responded to the urgency in his touch. His hands slid to my waist, anchoring me as if he feared I might slip away. I could taste the remnants of his earlier irritation, but it was quickly overshadowed by the heat of our connection.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and wide-eyed, I could see the flicker of amusement in his gaze. "You really are a huge pain," he repeated, but this time, there was a hint of a smile playing at the edges of his lips.

"Maybe," I replied, my voice softening, "but you wouldn't have it any other way." The teasing glint in my eyes mirrored the spark that danced between us, a silent acknowledgment that this playful back-and-forth was just as much a part of us as any of the other moments between us.

He chuckled, shaking his head as if trying to dismiss the undeniable truth of my words. "You're impossible," he said. I leaned in closer, resting my forehead against his, savoring the closeness, the laughter, and the undeniable chemistry that had drawn us together time and time again. His gaze lingered on me, as if he were examining the depths of my soul.

That singular moment, becoming entranced by those eyes, sent a wave of pressure through my chest, tightening like a vice.

In this moment, a deep realization struck me. Something I had to have known for awhile, but I had been trying to ignore: I wanted something more than what we had. I didn't want to just be a secret getaway, and the thought of us growing bored of each other and drifting apart was a thought I didn't want to become reality. However, he had made his demands of this arrangement clear, and that there was no room for anything more. So, with the understanding of my feelings came the unsettling truth that Draco Malfoy was destined to break my heart.

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