"You were wrong, you know," He stated suddenly, and her throat suddenly grew very, very parched. He reached forward, as though uncertain, and brushed a tear from her face with his soft, warm thumb.
"…Wrong?" She probed, her hand sliding up to rest against his chest. He nodded as if to clarify, silently musing over his response before deigning to continue.
"You said that I was your lighthouse-that I helped bring you to shore," He said finally, in a voice so hushed that Hermione had to strain to hear it.
"…I did, yes. I’m sorry, but-how is that wrong, exactly?"
"Because I’m not your lighthouse," He murmured, shifting slightly in bed to face her better. Hermione could feel her heart in her throat, she’d swear it, so when he bent down and pressed his lips against the warm shell of her ear, she really didn’t know what to expect.
- The Lighthouse by anondracomalfoy