Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Drinking Buddies	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 25654 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the world of Harry Potter. I am not making profit off of this story. I am writing it for fun only.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
It was a quarter past midnight when the owl touched down on the Quidditch pitch, interrupting Harry Potter’s stag party. Draco floated in midair, idling his broom in search of the snitch. Potter was just fifty yards off, fighting the gust of wind that picked up from the East. The game was a good thirty to thirty five, with Harry’s team pulling just ahead. Draco refused to give up so easily though, even if he did have incompetent Weasley and airheaded Seamus as his counterparts. Neville kept score from the ground, snacking on alcohol laced chocolate frogs Malfoy had provided.

“Get it in, Harry!” Dean called from the other side of the field. “Don’t let that twat get to it first!”

“This twat paid for that broom you’re riding on, Thomas!” Draco shouted back. “Watch your tongue or I’ll hex it off, you bellend!”

“We all know Malfoy’s all talk,” Ron chided from his post as Keeper, “He’s a tea cozy now that he’s under Hermione’s thumb!”

“Weasley, why don’t you make like a match and snuff out?”

Then he saw it. A bit of gold gleaming right behind Ron’s head. He bolted forward on his broom, Potter taking off immediately after. The snitch zigged this way and that, diving headfirst towards the ground before skittering along the grass and disappearing all together. Harry cursed and Draco threw his hands up.

That’s when he noticed the small white owl perched next to Neville’s knee.

“Oy, Longbottom! What’s that, then?” Draco called down. Neville turned his head, only then noticing the owl, and reached over to take the letter. He read over the top of the scroll. “It’s addressed to you, Malfoy!”

Draco touched down gracefully, setting his broom on the cool grass. He grabbed the letter out of Neville’s hand, recognizing the scroll immediately. This was a Minister seal. Well, that couldn’t be good. One by one the men touched down as Draco peeled off the wax and read the letter quietly to himself. As he reached the end, all of the color drained from his face.

“Malfoy?” Harry said, “Everything alright?”

Draco couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think, nor could he even dare move. All he could do was scan his eyes over each and every word, as if one of them would hold the key to the sheer horror they described. He felt Potter pry the parchment out of his fingers.

“Auror Draco Malfoy,” Harry read aloud to the others, “It is with deepest condolences I write to you this evening. Tonight, at nine thirty this evening, the body of Hermione… Jean Granger was found on the North side of Hogsmeade…” His voice trailed off as he scanned the paper. Ron, who had been hovering just a ways off, suddenly dropped to the grass in a blur. “Is… this isn’t saying what I think it’s saying, is it? It couldn’t possibly mean…”

Neville pulled the paper out of Harry’s hands and began to pick up where Harry left off, horror written across his face. “The Ministry is doing everything we can to find the culprit to these fiendish acts. As you know, procedure calls for those closest to the…” He choked back a gasp. “The deceased to give statements regarding whereabouts for their evening when foul play is suspected.”

Everyone listened as Neville read on. Everyone, that is, but Draco, who only heard the muffle of a voice somewhere far off in the distance. It didn’t feel real. None of it. His entire body was numb.

He felt someone touch his shoulder, and he could hear a ways off Potter saying, “-Maybe there’s been some sort of mistake-”

Draco connected sight with a pair of blue eyes that matched his own stupefied expression. Ron Weasley looked as if he had been stabbed in the gut. Draco reckoned he didn’t appear any better. It was almost a relief when Weasley approached him not with consoling eyes, but with the matching anger that burned in Draco’s.

“I reckon there’s a few things we need to straighten out,” Said Ron quietly. And that’s when he realized that only Ron Weasley could feel the intricate feelings associated with losing someone they loved in the most intimate of ways. He had always suspected Weasley had never quite gotten over his attraction for Granger, but in this one gruesome moment, he was relieved he was not alone.

Draco nodded. “Agreed.”

In unison they left the pitch, their disapparation crackling like lighting in the still of the night.

“Bachelorette in the Burrow! Everyone watch out!” Molly Weasley squealed excitedly, waving a cake battered spoon above her head. Little bits of cake mix flew around the room and in her hair, but she didn’t care. She greeted Ginny, Hermione, and Luna as they arrived via floo into the Weasley fireplace. Ginny rolled her eyes, but Hermione gave her a reassuring smile and patted her on the arm. “Your mother is so adorable, you know.”

“Yeah. Adorable. And scary. Remember when she murdered Lestrange?”

Molly’s eyes narrowed, and she put her hands on her hips. “I told you never to talk about it.”

“I’m simply stating you’re not a witch to be trifled with. That said, do we have to have my bachelorette party here, Mum? This is hardly a way to throw a party.” Ginny poked Hermione in the arm. “As my Maid of Honor, you were supposed to secure fun. Not frump.”

“Ginny Weasley,” Molly scolded, “I’ll have you know I wasn’t always this dedicated mother and wife. I was one wild witch before you came along.”

“Oh, I’m sure, Mum.”

Hermione pushed Ginny into the kitchen and sat her down in one of the dinner chairs. “This is only the first stop. I promised your Mum she could host the pre-party.” She lowered her voice and whispered, “I’ve rented out a room at Madam Bande after this.”

“Is that the all-male strip ensemble?”

“Yes,” Said Luna, chiming in, “And it’s quite enjoyable. Have you ever been?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “No. Are you saying you’ve been?”

“A few times.”

Ginny threw her head back laughing. “You’re full of surprises Luna.”

“What are you girl’s going on about?” Molly popped in, covered in baking batter. “Ginny, dear, have toffee. I’ve made plenty.” And with that, she presented an array of penis shaped toffees to the table.

Ginny, mortified, stood from her seat and made to escape through the floo, but Hermione grabbed her arm and pulled her back down in her chair. “No you don’t. You’re a powerful witch. You can get through this.”

“I really don’t think I can,” Ginny squeaked, mortified as her mother picked up a rather burnt looking penis toffee and popped it into her mouth.

---

Draco’s lips turned into a confident smile as Ron removed Harry’s blindfold. It took him a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did Harry gave out a ‘woah’ and spun around. “Holy Hell. Is this-”

“The Bulgarian Quidditch stadium? Yup.” Ron gave a quirky grin and waved his arms around the vast playing field surrounded by momentous seating. He gave Draco a hearty pat on the shoulder. “Only the best for our Stag.”

“I…” Harry looked from Ron, to Draco, to Neville, Seamus, Dean, and George Weasley, and then whistled. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say bloody ‘thank you’ and be done with it,” Said Draco, and with a snap of his fingers 7 broomsticks flew across the stadium from all sides and landed in front of each fellow. Harry’s hand roamed across the body of the broom with enthusiastic eyes.

“Are these the new Firebolts?”

“They’re not even supposed to be on the market yet,” Muttered Dean as he gripped the hilt in his hand.

“When you’re a Malfoy,” Smirked Draco, “You get certain privileges.”

George mounted his broom and kicked off, took a spin around the stadium, and landed gracefully back down. “Harry, you should have befriended Malfoy ages ago. Could you imagine what our Quidditch team would have been like with these resources?”

Draco’s ego inflated, until Harry replied, “Well, the Slytherin’s had plenty of Malfoy money, and we still managed to beat them.” He wiggled a superior eyebrow towards Malfoy, who scoffed in response.

“You know I’ve beaten you before.”

“Sure, when there were dementors involved,” Said Ron cheerily and mounted his broom. “Don’t think that really counts though.”

“Does so!”

“No, Draco,” Laughed Harry as he followed Ron’s lead, “It really doesn’t.”

All the men laughed except for Draco, who quickly mounted his broom and kicked off towards the pitch to retrieve the spelled box of headgear and balls.

The Auror associated with taking Draco’s preliminary statement was cordial, though the questions he asked were painful.

“How well did you know Miss Granger?”

“She was my… my girlfriend, I suppose.” But it had felt like more than that, hadn’t it?

“Where were you tonight between the hours of eight and ten P.M.?”

“I was with Harry Potter and the rest of his stag party,” He heard himself say, but it didn’t feel real. If this Auror had known them back in Hogwarts, he would have known exactly why Draco felt that way. But as it were, this Auror was at least ten years their senior and did not know the horrible things Draco Malfoy had done to Potter and his group, aside from what everyone knew about the Malfoys in the paper.

“Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt Miss Granger?”

He flinched. “They murdered her. That’s a bit more than hurt, wouldn’t you say? –I want to see her.”

“Answer the question, Auror Malfoy.”

“Will I get to see her?”

“Answer the question.”

Draco felt a sting in his eyes, but refused to cry. No, he would not cry like some pansy in front of this bloke who knew nothing about his life. He would hold it in until he could find some hole in the wall to die in. Instead, he thought hard about the question. Instantly, his father came to mind, but even Draco knew that this was beyond Lucius’s grasp. The way they had described the scene was something bloody and animalistic. His father was cold, maniacal, but if there was one thing he was not, it was messy. Besides, he wouldn’t dare risk the loss of his mansion over a stupid feud between pureblood and muggle born.

He placed his fingers on his temple and rubbed. Gwen didn’t like Hermione, but he knew she wasn’t capable of murder in any form. Gwen had been a healer for St. Mungos when they met. Her passion for saving lives far outweighed any grudge of the heart. When he had asked her to leave, that night of his mother’s funeral, he remembered the pain in her eyes. But that wasn’t a sign of murderous intent.

“No.” He shook his head. “I can’t think of anyone.” He watched the Auror scribble on a parchment with his plumed quill and got the courage to ask, “How d-did it happen?” He had only gotten the vaguest of details. He wanted –no, he needed to know how it happened.

“Once we’re done here, the lead Auror in this case will fill you in on details.” The man didn’t seem at all interested in being helpful. Draco had the urge to climb right over the table and hex the Auror with about a thousand different spells until his face peeled off and his insides turned to jelly. Instead, he fidgeted with the family crest on his Malfoy ring and fought hot tears in the corners of his eyes. He bowed his head in defeat and answered the rest of the questions with quiet deliberation. When it was over, the Auror rose from his chair and left the room.

Draco sat in silence for quite a while, listening to the hum of the air conditioner and his own heartbeat drumming in his ears. That was until a knock shook him from his thoughts and a flash of raven hair peeked in through the doorway. Never in his life had Draco Malfoy been so relieved to see Harry Potter.

“Hey,” Harry said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him, “You good?”

He knew he wasn’t asking about his state of emotions. He was asking about the interrogation. Draco nodded firmly. “It was quick.”

Harry took a seat across from him. In his hands was a manila envelope stuffed with papers. “I managed to nick this off Auror Sterling’s desk. We won’t have much time with it. –Are you sure you’re prepared?”

It had been discussed before the interrogation that Harry would gather any Intel he could and report it back to Draco immediately. There was no way that the two of them would let anyone else handle this case. This was Hermione. This was their Hermione. “Show me.”

Harry slid the file across the desk and turned it open. What Draco saw made bile spill up his throat, but he swallowed it back down. Cold, blank chocolate eyes stared up at a camera lens. Her clothes were tattered, and there were cuts along her arms, legs, and chest. Four long gashes painted red across her neck.

“This definitely wasn’t a spell,” Draco muttered.

“Werewolf.” Harry whispered.

“What?”

“Werewolf. I’ve seen those marks before.”

Draco stared hard at the picture, trying to piece any idea in his head together that would lead Hermione to be attacked by some werewolf.

“We’ll find whoever did this, Malfoy.”

He nodded in response, unable to find the words. Instead, he began to flip page after page on the already building case, using his photographic memory to take down every detail.

Molly Weasley dug her heels into the Bachelorette night by pulling out an old box with runes carved into the side, sat it neatly upon the table, and smiling. “How’s the Baby Making brew coming along, Hermione dear?”

Hermione was busy throwing in a few herbs into her pink filled cauldron when she answered. “Lovely, Missus Weasley.”

Ginny stared at her Cauldron, in which the contents were a murky green. “I don’t think I did mine right.”

“You best get a move on,” Luna said whimsically as she threw in some roots to her cauldron, “Or Hermione will surely beat you out for the charmed vibrator prize.”

“Bloody Hell,” Muttered Ginny, throwing her head into her hands and quite resembling her older brother Ron in the process, “Bloody fucking Hell…”

“Language, Ginny,” Singsong’d Molly, “And Hermione, that is quite a beautiful potion indeed.”

“Thank you.” Hermione beamed from ear to ear. That was, until Molly added,

“You know, I had thought you’d be the one to give me a granddaughter.”

Ginny, completely abandoning her cauldron, flared bright red and waved her hands around. “Mum! That’s hardly appropriate.”

“We’re all women here, Ginerva. And Hermione knows I only mean that as a compliment.” Molly tossed a few roots into her own potion, hard at work. She did cast a glance up to Hermione and reproached. “I think its lovely you were able to turn that Malfoy boy around, though, sweetheart. He’s quite different than his father, of that I can tell.”

“He is,” Hermione nodded mildly, waving her wand over the cauldron counterclockwise. She watched the potion begin to glow with little stars in the center, and Molly perked up.

“It’s ready! Oh my, Ginny, I do believe Hermione has beaten you out.”

“Oh bollox,” Ginny smirked, nudging Hermione in the arm.

“Alright, for part two!”

“There’s a part two?”

“Of course there is, dear.” Molly conjured up three glasses and set them in front of each witch. “This is an old family practice. Supposed to bring a bit of good luck. You three will each take a swig from the winner’s brew, and then I hold my wand over each of your heads.”

“And what exactly… does it do?” Ginny grimaced.

“It predicts how many children you’ll have!”

Ginny’s eyes widened, and Hermione paled. Only Luna smiled warmly at the idea, swaying her head from side to side and saying, “Well that’s quite lovely.”

Hermione was the first to rebuttal. “I’ve never read up such a potion, Molly.”

“That’s because it’s a secret one passed down for generations in our family.” Molly poured each one of the girls a chalice. “Oh, come now girls,” She added, seeing the refrain in their eyes, “It’s a tradition. Predicted every one of you. Arthur didn’t believe me, either, but every one of you popped out in the end.” She grinned from ear to ear and nudged to Ginny. “I promise, I’ll let you go do your night of drinking and wild men as soon as you do this for me.”

That was all Ginny needed as incitement. She grabbed up her cup and swigged down the entire contents without hesitation. Smiling, Molly nudged for Hermione and Luna to do the same. And they did, devouring every drop. “Tastes a bit like Snorlack milk,” Luna hummed.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue. There was no telling Luna there were no Snorlacks.

“Right, there you are. Alright, Ginny, you’re the bride, so you first.” Molly stood behind Ginny and waved her wand in a figure eight. Two green sparks and one gold shot out, raining down on Ginny’s head. “Oh my!” Molly clapped her hands wildly. “Three children, dear! That’s wonderful! Two boys and a girl. You should feel very proud.” Ginny rolled her eyes as Molly moved over to the next seat. “Luna dear.” Again Molly waved her wand, and two green sparks emerged at the same time. “Dear me. Twins? Oh, Merlin’s hat!”

“My great grandmum was a twin.” Luna grinned. “How exciting!”

Molly moved anxiously over to Hermione, who was skeptical but still half-excited. That was, until Molly waved her wand over Hermione’s head to produce… nothing. No sparks came from Molly’s wand, and it sent a sinking feeling down into the pit of Hermione’s stomach. Molly frowned, waved again, but still nothing came of it.

“Maybe the potion wore off?” Ginny suggested.

Hermione looked up at Molly, who stared down at Hermione with concerned concentration.

“Mum?”

“Oh. Yes dear.” Molly broke her gaze and looked to her daughter. “That’s quite a possibility. I wouldn’t look into it too much, Hermione dear. It’s just a family potion, after all. Nothing they teach at Hogwarts, for sure.” She stowed away her wand and patted Hermione on the shoulder. “Right, well, I should let you girls go for the rest of your festivities. I’m so proud of you, Ginny.”

As everyone began to gather their things, Hermione excused herself to the bathroom. There, she sat on the edge of the tub and felt a hot tear slide down her eye. It wasn’t as if she believed in a non-proven potion that hadn’t even been Ministry approved… but for a brief moment, she had hoped to glance into her future, even if it was obscure and ridiculous. She didn’t understand why the need to know that there might be a child in her future clung to her like fly on sticky paper. Just the thought of holding a child… Her stomach plummeted. No. She wouldn’t let herself feel this. Tonight was about Ginny, and she refused to let something so miniscule get to her.

She gathered up her courage, wiped her tears away, and left the bathroom without another thought of it.

Ron Weasley was found pacing the hallway just outside of the interrogation rooms when Harry and Draco emerged. When he caught sight of the two, he stopped his movement and squeezed his hands into fists. “I told the others to go home. We’d tell them what was going on when we knew more.”

“Good. Thanks, Ron,” Said Harry, and put a hand on Ron’s shoulder. The two men looked as if they had been beaten by a bludger, but they looked right as rain in comparison to Draco, who appeared to only be keeping it together by a thin thread of sheer will.

“So…” Ron pulled the paperwork from Harry and began to look over its contents, “It’s b-been a while since I’ve been an Auror, but…” He flinched as he scanned over Hermione’s picture. “Hermione was never one to let her guard down. This was a surprise to her.”

“She might have known her attacker,” Harry nodded carefully. “Malfoy, thoughts?”

“Thoughts?” Draco snapped. “My thoughts are that the woman I love is now lifeless in a morgue, Potter.”

Someone rounded the corner of the hallway, and Ron quickly stowed the papers under his robes as Ginny Weasley approached the men, tears streaming down her cheeks, a look of guilt written across her fine features. “Oh, Harry,” She ran to him and threw herself in his arms. “I shouldn’t have let her go… this is all my fault.”

Harry pulled Ginny deep into his chest and kissed the top of her hair. “What are you talking about, Gin?”

Ginny wiped away blurry tears. “I’ve already told the investigator everything… I’m so sorry…” She looked to Draco. “I really am. This is all my fault.”

“How?” Asked Draco.

“I –I invited Ron’s girlfriend. I didn’t know that she used to date you. If I had known, I wouldn’t have invited her. Maybe then Hermione wouldn’t have gone off on her own…”

Draco frowned. “What are you talking about, Weasley?” He looked from Ginny to Ron. “Who are you dating?”

Ron shrugged. “I told you –the girl from Honeydukes. Gwen."

Hermione, Ginny, and Luna arrived at Madam Bande at a quarter till ten, where they met up with Parvati and Padma Patil in a little corner table, where the waiters were dressed in nothing but charmed bowties covering their post private areas. Ginny was much more at home here, and she giggled as a male performer greeted her with a strip tease.

“Oh, Hermione, you simply must get one of these,” She giggled, throwing her hands up.

Hermione declined, taking to ordering a shot of fire whiskey for everyone at the table and pulling out her camera. “I’m so not letting you live this down, Ginerva. Ever.”

“Don’t you dare call me that!” Ginny gasped, but giggled when the stripper kissed her on the cheek. “And don’t you dare take pictures! Harry would be-” Click.

Hermione smirked and turned the camera around to show Ginny. “Aren’t you adorable when you’re being blackmailed?”

“I simply love the ambiance here,” Luna chimed in, “Sometimes, when you aren’t looking, the Newlgans like to steal your money, so I’d watch your coin purses, all of you.”

“Luna,” Hermione sighed, “What exactly is a Newlgan?”

“It’s like a Hobbergolt, but bigger and with pixie wings.”

Ginny threw her head back, laughing at Luna as the drinks arrived. “You… you have got one amazing sense of humor, Luna.”

“I’m being completely serious…”

Hermione was on her third shot of whiskey when Ginny was called up onto the stage for a dance with the entire Madam Bande ensemble. There were just too many flailing appendages for Hermione to be fully interested in, so she made her way quietly out into the brisk air outside and pulled out her cellphone, Harry’s number on speed dial. It only took him two rings to answer.

“Hermione, hey. Everything alright?” His voice was a bit out of breath.

“Oh. It’s great,” Hermione smiled into the receiver, “Ginny’s having loads of fun.”

“Not too much, I hope.” There was a laugh in his tone.

“Of course not. –Is Draco around you?”

“Yeah, we were just about to play some Quidditch. He’s right here.”

There was a shuffling, and then, “Blast it, Hermione. I hate using this. What is it?”

Just hearing his voice, no matter how irritated he sounded, sent a wave of relief down her bones. “Hello to you too, cheery head.”

“Ha ha.” He sneered. “-Oy, Longbottom! Get your grubby mitts off that wine! That’s for everyone, not just you!”

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, sure.” He grumbled. “If you meaning Longbottom eating and drinking everyone out of house and home before the party gets underway.”

Hermione thought back to the party game at Molly’s, and she suddenly had the urge to say something. “Draco, do you think we’d make good parents?” It just sort of rolled out of her mouth before she even knew she had said it, and with the words came a rush of embarrassment.

“…What?” His voice was tightened, caught off guard.

“I… never mind.” She whispered, but he didn’t let it go.

“No, I… you just… bloody hell. I… I suppose we would, yeah. Why? You’re not –you know- are you?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “No! Oh, no. I’m not. Not at all.” She heard him sigh with relief on the other end of the line. “No, I just… Just was curious what your thought was.”

“One hell of a time to pick this subject, Granger.”

“I know… sorry…”

She heard him click his tongue. “Apologizing never sounded good coming from you. Stop doing it.”

“Yessir.” She whispered. She was quiet for a time before she spoke again. “I love you, Draco.”

“Love you too, stupid little Gryffindor.” He chuckled. “Enjoying your time gawking at other men?”

“I’ll have you know, I haven’t gawked at one.”

“That’s because I haven’t shown up on that stage. –Do me a favor and stay out of trouble, yeah?”

“I never go looking for it.”

“But it always seems to find you.” She heard him shuffle, as if moving the phone to the other ear. “When you get home tonight, why don’t you give me your own little strip tease-?”

She heard Harry yell, “Oy, I’m standing right here! Do you have to?”

“Of course I bloody have to. Get bent, Potter.” He brought his attention back to the phone. “Hermione, I have to go.”

“I know. Thank you for talking with me.”

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She pressed the end call button and stowed away her phone. The wind picked up even faster, and she peaked inside the window to find Luna dancing on the table, drink in hand, and Ginny chowing down on some chips smothered in cheese. She was just about to go inside to join them when a hand reached out and touched her shoulder, startling her. “Oh my good gracious!” She jumped, spinning around. She was met with familiar green eyes and chestnut colored hair. Many times she had tried to forget the face of Gwen Abbott, but there would be no getting around it after tonight. Seeing her so close, so beautiful as she stared up at her, made Hermione’s insides twist up in knots.

“Hermione, isn’t it?” Asked Gwen, tilting her head to the side.

“Erm… Yes.” She nodded, a bit of pink flushing her cheeks. “And you’re Gwen Abbott.”

“Yes.” The woman nodded and tucked a bit of her curly hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry to sneak up on you like that. I just remembered you from… that night… and, well, we never really did get to speak, did we?”

Hermione wanted to say that she actually liked it that way, but instead she said, “No, we didn’t.”

“I couldn’t help but hear you on the phone a moment ago,” Gwen stated, absently swaying from foot to foot, “How is Draco doing?”

There was a pull in Hermione’s middle. The thought of Gwen anywhere near Draco made anger flare up into her chest, and she tried her best nonchalant voice as she spoke. “He’s well.”

“That’s good. You two… you’re pretty serious, then?”

“Yes.”

She watched Gwen’s face tighten, but the smile across her lips still stayed. “Well, glad to hear someone’s looking out for him.”

The door to the club burst open, and a giggling Ginny stumbled out with a cider in her hands. “Hermione, come on! You’re missing all the fun!” She looked past her friend. “Oh, hey Gwen!”

“Hello, Gin!” Gwen waved excitedly. Hermione frowned.

“You two know each other?”

“Of course. That’s Ron’s girlfriend. Honestly, Hermione, have you two not met yet?” Ginny wrapped her arms around the petite woman and kissed her cheek. “So good to see you. Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Gwen replied, and the singsong in her voice, Hermione realized, was definitely a show. She felt as if her entire world was collapsing around her, replacing each sturdy brick with a feather foundation that could blow in the wind at any given moment. She watched as the two witches wrapped their arms around each other’s waists and started towards the door. Ginny looked over her shoulder.

“You coming, Hermione?”

She made to step forward, but then caught herself. “No. I… I don’t think I feel well, Gin. I might just head home.”

Ginny was obviously too drunk to comprehend Hermione’s words, so Gwen replied, “Well, if you don’t feel well, you should definitely call it a night.” She gave a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this ginger snap. You go rest, Hermione.” And with that, Gwen took Ginny back inside, leaving Hermione standing on the cold cobble stones looking more than a bit morose.

Draco’s heart sunk in his chest. It was a bit much to take in, wasn’t it? He grabbed Ron up by the scuff of the collar and glared at him. “Gwen Abbott? You’re dating Gwen Abbott?”

Ron looked as if he might have a heart attack. “Y-Yeah? S-So?”

“So Gwen is the woman who broke Malfoy’s heart, wasn’t she?” Ginny said quietly.

“Do you think she did this?” Asked Harry.

Ginny shook her head. “She was with me the rest of the evening. She couldn’t have.”

“Gwen’s not a lycanthrope, anyway.” Draco felt a tightening in his chest –it spread panic through his core to his appendages, and soon he became so stirred that he had to sit down at one of the benches lined against the walls. Ginny came to take a seat next to him, and she looked so guilt ridden he had to add, “S’not your fault anyways, Weasley. You didn’t know leaving her on her own would… would…” He tried hard to fight it, but he brought his hands up and covered his face to hide the tears that pushed their way through and down his cheeks. He thought of his last conversation with Hermione –the one about children. He hadn’t given it much thought before, but now that she was gone it was all he could imagine. Tiny faces flooded his mind with her curly hair and his steel blue eyes. Tiny bodies that climbed into bed for a story. Tiny hands reaching up to hold their parents’ hands. Tiny children that would never be a possibility anymore.

He had taken it for granted that Hermione would always be there –that they would have time for these kind of conversations later. Now he no longer had that. He no longer had anyone, really. Without her, there was no way the others would stay around. Without her, his family was gone completely. He wished desperately for more time with her. Just to hold her once more. Just more time…

Time. It was such a sudden thought that it stopped his panic almost immediately. His head shot up, and he didn’t care that they could see the remnants of his breakdown spatters across his cheeks. He stared up at Potter and said, “We just need time.”

Hermione wasn’t sure where she would go. She knew she had told Ginny she would head home, but she most definitely didn’t want to, where she would only sit around and wait for Draco to come in at the crack of dawn. And she definitely didn’t want to surround herself with Gwen Abbott, who always stemmed as a reminder that Draco’s past never really wanted to stay in the past. It sickened her to know that Ron was dating her now.

She decided that maybe getting a round in Hogsmeade would be better for her. So she apparated on the spot and popped in at the edge of town, where she made her way to the Three Broomsticks. She found a quiet spot tucked in the back corner and preoccupied herself with pulling out a shrunken version of a lengthy book, spelling it up to full size, and finding her page marker. A waitress came around and took a drink order for her. Hermione ordered a butterbeer, already a bit toasted from her shots at Ginny’s bachelorette party. She wondered how the others were fairing without her, but she tried to tuck those emotions away immediately.

She wasn’t being a very good friend at all, really. She knew that leaving in the middle of a party was rude, but finding out that the woman who broke Draco’s heart was now surely going to break her best friend’s… it was all too much at once. She just didn’t have the stomach for it tonight. Not after Molly’s stupid potion…

It was a surprise to her when she looked up and saw Lavender Brown stepping in to the pub, wrapped in a traveler’s robe and looking more disheveled than normal. Lavender looked aged since the last time Hermione had seen her; there were tufts of grey in her hair, and bags under her eyes. Had she been sleeping, she wondered? She thought about going back to her drink alone, but something in her made her pity Lavender tonight. She stood and waved at the woman, who caught her eyes and looked around as if to find who Hermione could possibly be calling over, because it couldn’t be her. Hermione shouted Lavender’s name, and Lavender’s surprised expression lingered as she strolled across the floor and over to Hermione’s table.

“Hello, Lavender,” Hermione said in her best cheery voice, pulling out a chair next to her, “I’d say you look like you need a drinking buddy right about now.”

Lavender bit her lip and bundled her robes tighter around her. “No, it’s alright. Thank you, Hermione, but I’m just here to meet someone. I really must be off soon.”
“Oh.” Hermione felt her stomach drop. It had been a tad presumptuous to think Lavender would want to have a drink with her. “I see.”

Lavender checked the watch on her wrist, looked around the pub, and looked back at Hermione apologetically. “Well, he’s not here yet, so I suppose we could have one drink while I wait.” She took her seat and began to down the entire contents of Hermione’s butterbeer. When she finished she wiped her sleeve with the back of her arm. “Thank you.” Her eyes shifted around the room again.

“Are… are you waiting for a date, Lavender?” Hermione asked, though surely she couldn’t be, she thought to herself. Not with the disheveled disposition and hair flying this way and that. Lavender turned her head towards the brunette and said absently, “Oh. No. Just a friend. Supposed to bring me some… potion supplies.”

“I see.” Well, she thought, this had been a mistake. Lavender wasn’t much of a conversationalist tonight. Just then, a hooded man walked in and took a seat at the table closest to the door. Lavender perked up immediately.

“Oh, that’s him. I’m really sorry, Hermione. I’ve got to go.”

“No… no, that’s fine.” Hermione waved her off and stared meekly down into her butterbeer mug. Well, this was certainly a shite night, that was for sure. She watched Lavender stroll over to the table, smile at the man, and they walked out together hand in hand. “Just a friend my arse.”

She had been so busy watching Lavender that she didn’t notice someone had taken her chair until a cool voice spoke, “Well that wasn’t very nice of your friend, leaving you all alone like that.”

“Malfoy… what you’re suggesting… it goes against every Ministry rule,” Said Harry, pushing his glasses up his nose, “You could lose your Auror position. You could go to Azkaban.”

Draco shrugged indifferently. “It’s worth it.”

“Malfoy’s right, Har.” It was Ron who spoke. “If we can get her back-”

“And what’s to say we wouldn’t be the cause of it all?” Harry interjected. “I’ve meddled in time before, Ron. Just going back could inadvertently put Hermione in the very harm’s way we’d be trying to avoid.”

“We have to try,” Said Draco, coming to abrupt stop. He waved his wand and lifted the charm of the Ministry restricted door where he and Harry kept inventory of the Knott vault. He stepped inside the darkened room, followed closely by Ron, and finally by an apprehensive Harry, who warded the room back up and cast a quick lumos spell.

“There’s a reason time travel is restricted.”

Draco ignored Potter, casting an accio spell and retrieved the wooden jewelry box from the table. He wretched it open and revealed the smooth, glistening time turner that hung by a golden chain. Harry reached out and grasped the metal, catching Draco’s attention. “I want Hermione back just as bad as you do. Believe me. But this isn’t right, Malfoy. If this goes wrong, and you don’t save her, you’ll be throwing your entire career away. The Minister will know. He’ll find out, and he’ll disbar you.”

“What if it were Ginny?” Said Draco quietly, meeting Potter’s green eyes with his own gray ones. “What then?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Hermione was my best friend, Draco. She’s been my best friend since I was eleven years old. You don’t think this kills me, having to say the very things she would say? You think I like being the sensible one? Because every fiber of my body is telling me exactly what yours is. But that doesn’t make it right.”

“A time turner has a four hour window, Harry,” Ron said, putting his hand on Harry’s, which was grasped around the chain. “We’re closing in on that window, now. If we don’t do this, we’ll never have another opportunity.”

Harry’s hand shook. The struggle in his eyes to be the voice of reason fought with his inner Gryffindor to be brave, to fuck the rules. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Right. Well… You’re not going alone.”

“What about being sent to Azkaban and all that?” Sneered Draco.

Harry rolled his eyes. “I was trying to think of what Hermione might say.”

“Yes, well, instead of that let’s go save her and ask the witch what she’d say when we’re done.”

“I’m going too,” Said Ron.

They all placed a hand on the time turner and readied themselves for what was to come.

“You’re Hermione Granger,” Said the man who had taken a seat across from Hermione, his mouth pulling back into a heinous smile. He had a mop of curly red hair and crooked teeth. His hazel eyes danced in the candlelight of the pub, “Aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry. Have we met?” Hermione frowned, feeling uneasy.

“Oh, I imagine not. It’s just not easy to forget a face as pretty as yours, especially when it’s been headlined next to Harry Potter.”

“Oh.” She blushed. Of course, she thought, it wasn’t as if the entire wizarding world didn’t know who she was. It was a bit hard to be forgotten when you helped save an entire wizard population. “Well, I’d just as well be forgotten about, if it’s all the same. I’m just… waiting… on my boyfriend.” The lie was quick, but she didn’t like the idea of offering that she’d be all alone in the middle of the night.

“Boyfriend, is it?” The man smirked. “Well, that’s a right shame. But I guess someone as gorgeous as you was bound to have one. Still, what’s a pretty filly like you doing in a pub all alone like?”

“Like I said… waiting.” She went to move for her wand under the table, but she felt a poke in her leg and realized that he had a wand already fixed on her.

The man nodded. “Sure, sure. See, the problem with that, Miss Granger, is that I don’t have the time to be waiting on the likes of him.”

Panic flooded through her veins, but she tried her best to stay calm. “What do you want?”

“It’s not what I want, is it? No, no, see –this is all a gig. Gotta pull my part of the quota if I want my cut. I’ll have your wand now, if it’s all the same to you, Miss Granger.”

“And if I say no?” Her voice was icy.

“Well, I reckon we could start by taking that sweet little friend of yours and hunting her down.” He eyed where Lavender had left, and Hermione’s stomach fell. She cursed to herself and handed her wand over under the table. “And your cell phone too, ma’am.” Reluctantly, the phone left her possession as well. “Right. Good girl. Now, I want you to set some money down on the table, stand, and gimme a hug so it don’t look suspicious. Then, we’re gonna walk out of here.”

Hermione did as she was told, feeling disgust as she hugged the stranger, and led the way out into the street. She looked for anyone that she could make contact with, anyone at all, but everyone passed her by without a glance. It was then she realized there was a cloaking spell at work. “Who’s paying you?” Hermione asked. “I’ll gladly double it.”

“Triple it if you like. It ain’t gonna change your fate.” With a wand pointed in her back, he pushed her onward, in the direction of the North woods. An early snow had begun to fall, coaxing the leaf ridden trail with a sheen of thin white powder. The moon hung over head, nearly at its highest point and lit the path forward. Hermione noticed two other sets of footprints ahead of her, and that seemed to be where this man wanted her to go. She followed them until she was thick in the woods with a clearing just up ahead. That’s when she saw a familiar face; Lavender Brown, unconscious, on the snowy forest floor. Above her, the ‘friend’ she had left with.

“Lavender…” Hermione ran to her and checked for breathing. “Why? You have me. Why would you take her anyways?”

“All part of the plan.” The man smirked. “Oh, I guess I should introduce myself. Fern’s the name. Nicholas Fern. You’ll be dead soon, anyways, so might as well be cordial.” He made a mock bow. “Shame. The moon is almost overhead. I really hate seeing pretty girls get pulled to shreds, but…” He flicked his wand, and a blue sheen ran a circle about twenty feet out from Hermione and Lavender, stopping just at the edge of Fern’s feet. His hooded friend, who had stepped away, marked the edge of the circle on the other side.

“You really pissed someone off, Granger.” Said Fern.

Lavender twitched in Hermione’s arms and startled awake. When she caught sight of Hermione, her eyes widened. “Hermi…one… what are you doing here?”

“We’re going to get out of this,” She whispered to Lavender. “I promise.”

“No. You- you have to go.” Lavender scooted away, and she gave a sudden scream as she clutched her leg. Hermione reached for it, seeing it was swollen, but Lavender swatted her hands away. “Get out of here! You can’t be around me!”

“Lavender, what on earth are you-” But she stopped, because the moonlight had parted in the clouds, and Lavender’s eyes shifted to a brilliant shade of yellow. Her teeth began to enlarge, and tufts of hair began to sprout here and there. It suddenly hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. How could she not have come to the conclusion sooner? After all of these years, the shift in her demeanor… She thought back to the battle at Hogwarts all those years ago, with Fenrir Greyback sinking his teeth into Lavender Brown. It had been a miracle she had recovered. But Hermione had always assumed that she wasn’t afflicted after… but her assumption had been very, very wrong. Lavender screamed as her hands became claws and her back jutted out awkwardly. Hermione jumped on her feet and took off in the direction of the woods, not caring if she would be cursed by Fern – until her body hit the barrier spell like a ton of bricks. She beat the invisible force field over and over again with her fists, but to no avail.

“Let me out!” She screamed.

“Don’t think so, pretty.” Fern gave an awful smirk. “See, I don’t get my money less you’re a chew toy.-Besides, I get a bit of enjoyment out of this myself. Ain’t your boyfriend Draco Malfoy?” He caught the fear in her eyes, and his smirk became wider. “Thought so. Nah, I don’t imagine any amount of money you could offer could compare to this. Like killing two pretty birdies with one stone. See, I’ve got my orders. But I’m also oh so happy to put some strain on the Malfoy family. Tortured my dad for information in The War, they did.”

“Draco isn’t his father!”

“Don’t care.”

There was a howl from behind her, and Hermione stopped her attempt at the barrier. Slowly, she turned her head around and saw Lavender, in full werewolf form, sniffing the air. “Lavender… please tell me you’ve taken wolfsbane potion…”

The wolf turned its head towards Hermione at the sound of her voice and cocked its head. At first, Hermione thought that she had gotten through to Lavender, but then the last bit of humanity flickered out of the yellow eyes, and the wolf bared its teeth. Hermione searched for anything to defend herself; a rock, or a stick, but the clearing was bare aside from grass and a bit of dirt. It would have to do. The wolf readied to charge at her, and Hermione dove towards the ground, grabbed up a firm bit of dry dirt mixed with snow, and tossed it in the wolf’s eyes as it ran for her. The wolf squealed and jumped back, rubbing its paw in its eyes. She ran for the other side of the barrier, and the wolf, sensing her retreat, took off after her, teeth flashing. Hermione hit the barrier hard, bounced off of it, and fell on her back. She could see the wolf not ten feet off, and she readied herself for the attack.

But it didn’t come.

A flash of blue light and a familiar voice shouted, “Immobulus!”

Lavender’s body froze mid bound, teeth still bared. Hermione rolled over and sat upright –and that’s when she saw him, standing above her, that pompous smirk worn heavily over his handsome, pointed face. “Alright there, Granger?”

She had never been so happy to see Draco in her entire life. She reached up and he pulled her upright to her feet. Turning in the direction of Fern, she found him on his back, Ron’s wand pointed at the tip of his nose. Across the field Harry had punched the hooded man out cold. She turned to Draco, threw herself into his arms, and kissed him hard. When she pulled away, she said, “How did you know where to find me?”

Draco pulled her back and stared at her, drawing his eyes over every part of her face. “You died here.-You were dead. I… I couldn’t let it happen, Hermione. I love you, and I couldn’t…” There was a flash of gold around his neck, and Hermione instantly recognized the time turner that hung there.

“I… I died?”

Draco nodded, and he let out a sigh he must have been holding the entire time. Hermione touched her hand to her mouth in silence. Then, after a time processing his words, she said, “Bu-But how did you find a time turner? They’re all gone.”

“Found one in the Knott vault. I was going to give it to you as an anniversary present –Potter told me I couldn’t. Sort of glad he told me that, now that I think of it…” His thumb brushed her cheek. “I thought I’d never see you again. But I’ll see you real soon, yeah?”

And then he was gone, as if he had never been there at all. Hermione gasped, searching around for signs of Harry or Ron, but they had vanished as well. And then, from the thick of the woods, she heard voices. Wands, lit up at the tips, came out from the woodwork. “Hermione!”

Harry came first, still dressed in his Quidditch gear. “Hermione, there you are!” He ran out and seized her up in a vicious hug. “I got your text, are you alright?”

“My text?” Hermione whispered.

“Hermione?” Another voice called –one with cool authority that she instantly recognized as Draco’s. She pulled away from Harry in time to see Draco peel his way out of the woods and into the clearing. He had a stern, superior look about him as his eyes trailed over the spelled werewolf in place before finding her. When he spotted her, he called, “Oy, Potter! Get your hands of my woman!” He strolled over to them and pulled her away from Harry and into his chest. “The next time you want to take on a werewolf, don’t. Alright? You gave me a fright.”

She frowned up at him. “You don’t remember?”

“Remember? Remember what?” His eyebrows furrowed together in a quizzical expression. It was then that Hermione realized this was not future Draco who had saved her. This was Draco from the past. From her own time. The pieces slowly put themselves together in her head. If Draco, Harry, and Ron had saved her, they would have had no reason to go back to the past. Those versions thus fell from the timeline, ceasing to exist. It made her head spin. She grabbed his face in her hands, pulled him down and planted a deep, sultry kiss on his lips, to which he melted into. When she finally broke it to come up for air, he smirked and said, “What was that for?”

She patted his cheek and said, “Tell you later.”

It didn’t take long for Fern to crack and give up his boss. Draco stared across the table at Gwen Abbott, who looked nothing more than miffed that she had been caught.

“Why?” Draco whispered. “Why did you do it?”

“Why?” She laughed. “Are you serious, Draco? You really have to ask?” She gave him a once over and turned up her nose. “That night –the night you told me never to speak to you again- that was one of the worst nights of my life. You quite literally broke my heart.”

“Yes, well I do believe you broke mine first, sweetheart.”

“I loved you.” She seethed at him, curls flying around her face. “I loved you and I realized the moment I saw you that I had made a terrible mistake. And then I saw you with that… that woman. Such a common girl.”

“Hermione is anything but common.” His eyes were dangerous. Gwen chose her next words more carefully.

“I thought I could move on.” Her voice became quiet. “I really did. I tried dating Ron for a while, and things were going so well… but he just couldn’t stop talking about Lavender Brown. How she used to surprise him with toffees at work. How she loved his terrible taste in music. And it all got so much that I… I couldn’t understand why I was never good enough.” She tucked her head low. “And then I found out that Ron had dated Hermione too. That I could never get rid of that witch, no matter where I went. That she was best friends with Ginny. At every turn I tried to escape you and her. At every turn, there you two were, mucking it up.”

“How did you know about Brown’s condition?” Draco asked.

“I followed her,” She admitted, “I wanted to find something that I could throw in Ron’s face to get him over her. And then I saw her purchasing wolfsbane. So I set up a plan. They were only going to ruff up Lavender a little… but then Hermione showed up at the bachelorette party, and…” She began to shake. “I went to the bathroom and did a tracking spell on her. When she showed up in Hogsmeade, I knew I had my opportunity to get rid of the two people I hated most at once. –I paid Fern and his counterpart to front as potions dealers. Hermione showing up… that was icing on the cake.”

Draco jerked up out of his chair, wand gripped tight in his hand. Potter, who sat in a corner across the room, shook his head as a warning. It took all of Draco’s will not to hex the witch in front of him. “Well… Looks like she bested you, didn’t she?” He smirked. “See you at your trial, Abbott. –You know, I suppose I should thank you. –I didn’t realize just how much I couldn’t live without that witch until I nearly lost her.” He gave Gwen an irritated smirk, flicked the door open with a wave of his wand, and exited to the hallway, where he found a disgruntled Ron Weasley leaned across the wall.

“Tell me she didn’t do it.”

“What is it that Potter always says? I must not tell lies?”

Ron’s face dropped. “Bloody hell. I sure know how to pick em, don’t I?”

Harry emerged from the room shortly after, tapping his wand on his leg in thought. “We’ve got all we need to put them away for a while. –Some stag party, huh gents?”

“What about Lavender?”

“Well, She didn’t actually attack anyone –I suppose she’ll be let out of Ministry custody once she’s out of her transformation.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Ron frowned. “She’s a… a… werewolf. The entire Ministry will know. She could lose her job. She could lose her entire career.”

“Sounds like she could use a friend,” Draco put a hand on Ron’s shoulder, “And from what I hear, you might actually love the witch.”

Two rooms down, a door handle turned and Hermione Granger was released from custody after her statement. When her brown eyes locked with Draco’s grey ones, she took off running and nearly toppled him to the floor in a vicious hug. “Draco…”

He looked down at her, all tired and ruffled, and pulled her into his body; a perfect fit, like a jigsaw piece of a puzzle. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I thought we’d lost you.”

“You very easily could have.”

They held each other for a time, until Ron coughed awkwardly and pulled their attention his way. “So… some crazy night. Just so we’re clear, I’m not going to be the one to tell Ginny.”

“Not it.” Draco chimed in.

“What?” Harry frowned.

“I’m going to say I’m not going to do it either.” Hermione winked at her friend. “Looks like you’re the lucky fit.”

Harry looked around at his friends, completely horrified. “Right… well… some friends you are.”

Epilogue:

Draco slammed Hermione up against the bathroom wall of Shell Cottage. As the Potter’s reception carried on downstairs, he was busy buried inside of her, her frilled skirt bunched up around her hipbones as he pressed into her. She turned her head to the side, eyes fluttering closed. It took everything he had not to come right then and there. The thought that anyone could knock on the door at any moment excited him, and he bit down on her neck to elicit a tempered moan from her. Yes. He loved it when she made noise. He bit again, harder, and felt her fingers dig into his shoulders.

“Draco…” She sighed into his ear just the way he liked it. Her hips rolled instinctively, and the wetness and friction of her made him have to take all of his focus into controlling himself. No, he would make this last. He would take his time with this. This was a special night. He dug his fingers into her hips just as he thrust powerfully up into her.

“Tell me only I make you feel like this,” He whispered grittily, “I do, don’t I, Hermione?”

“Yes.” She bit her lower lip, fighting back the urge to scream. Any other time, Draco would have put every effort into making sure she did, but with the party raging down underfoot, he knew he should maintain a bit of discrepancy. He put his hands underneath the curve of her buttocks and lifted her effortlessly off of the floor. With much more leverage, he drove into her quickly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold on for dear life. He felt her warm lips caress the skin just under his jaw as she fought back a timid moan. Her kiss sparked a fire within him, and he pounded into her, driving her to come with a muffled groan into his shoulder. It was just what he needed to be sent over the edge himself, and he buried himself within her, forgetting every single insecurity or doubt he had ever thought. It was moments like these, balls deep in Hermione Granger, when all of the terrible things he had done seemed worth it, because they had brought him to this moment right here. With her still shaking in his arms, he set her down gently to the floor and kissed her.

“I love you,” He whispered.

She raised an eyebrow, giggled, and said, “Well, I love you too. Where’d that come from?”

“What? I can’t say it?”

“No, you can,” She smiled, “It’s just rare I ever hear it first.”

He thought about it, decided that she wasn’t entirely wrong, but shrugged it off. The two began to fix their clothes, but when Hermione had spelled her hair back into place and made to leave, he grabbed her swiftly around the wrist and tugged her back to him. “Wait.” He said. “Not yet.”

“Draco, I promised Harry a dance with him,” She sighed, falling back against his chest, “And someone’s bound to notice we’ve disappeared by now.”

“Well, they can manage for a bit longer.” He could feel his heart stammering in his ears. “Close your eyes.”

“What? Why?”

“Bloody do it.”

“Fine,” She covered her eyes with one hand as Draco laced the other with his own, “But what are we-”

“-Clear your mind,” He whispered, “We’re apparating in three, two, one…” And then the world melted together and then back in place. They stood in the entryway of a large house. There was a circular staircase off to the left, lit with hundreds of tiny candles. Draco positioned himself behind Hermione and tugged her hand off her face for her to look. When she did, she gave a small gasp and glanced around the room.

“Where are we?” She asked.

“Well, you know with my payraise after Abbott’s capture and all, I felt like a change of scenery was needed. It’s my new house,” He grinned cheerily. “Do you like it?”

Hermione put a hand to her mouth, then said, “You know I have to look around now.”

“Wouldn’t have expected any different,” He smirked cheerily. He followed her to den, where the walls themselves were bookshelves lined to the brim with fresh hardbacks. In fact, each room had at least one wall dedicated to books. In the kitchen, they were cookbooks. In the bathroom, they were waterproof spelled books of fiction to read near the obscenely large bath. In the master bedroom, the bedframe had been made to hold books in the headboard, and he watched Hermione run her fingers idly over the pages of all the muggle books she had ever mentioned. She turned back at him, a tear in her eye. “You remembered.”

“And believe it or not, I’ve read some,” He said, plucking out a first edition of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. He placed it in her hands. “For you.”

“Oh, Draco, I couldn’t,” She said as he slipped the delicate bound book in her fingers. “These are your books.”

“This one is yours.” He opened the cover to reveal a tiny bookmark made to look like the night sky and bewitched to twinkle. On it was a string, and around the string was a delicate, gold ring with a sapphire in the center.

“What… what’s this?” She asked, running her fingers over the ring decorated with her birthstone.

Draco smirked. “Well, I couldn’t very well ask you to move in with me without properly asking you to be my wife, now could I?”

The look that came from those caramel colored eyes- the adoration, shock, and bewilderment was all so stunning that Draco found himself hanging on bated breath. Her face scrunched up as she tore her eyes away from his to look at the ring once more, and then back up to him, where it softened as a tear streamed down the side of her cheek. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

He reached over, tossed the book onto the bed, untied the ring from the bookmark, and held between them. “Say yes. That you’ll marry me.” When she said nothing, only stared at him blankly, he added, “Unless you don’t want-”

“Yes.” She nodded.

“Yes?”

“Yes. Yes!” She leapt up and scooped her arms around his neck to bring him down into a gentle kiss. Draco clutched his hand closed to avoid dropping the ring as she began to plant kiss after tender kiss along his lips. He melted into them, pulling her close until there was no room between them. As he continued to kiss her, he reached down and slipped the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit.

She pulled away from him after a time, tears falling through her eyelashes.

“You stupid prat!” She pushed at his chest. As she laughed, more tears fell. “You’ve got me crying now.”

“All I did was ask you to be my wife,” He grinned wolfishly, “So… this was way more proper than Potter’s way of proposing, wouldn’t you say?”

Hermione giggled, grabbing his arm and pulling herself into his chest. “Not everything is a competition, Draco.”

“You’re right, it’s not. But…”

“But your way was much more fitting.”

“Thought so.” He wrapped his arms around her and took in her perfume through his nose. He wanted to remember her like this, forever. The way she smelled, the way she felt in his grip. She was going to be his, and his alone forever. Not Weasley’s. Not some random bloke. His. He had almost lost her once. Had lost her, in fact, Hermione had told him later. He wouldn’t let it happen again. - They would start a life here, in this place, and all of the guilt that rested on his heart could finally sluff off like newly shed skin. Draco Malfoy was finding himself in the way of the world, and he couldn’t think of anyone else he’d rather share it with.

He pulled away from her, spelled two goblets of butterbeer, and handed one to Hermione.

“What do you say, drinking buddy? For old time’s sake?”
- - -
  
  And it happened that they lived a satisfactory ever after.
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Drinking Buddies