Chapter Soundtrack- Eyes on Fire by Blue Foundation

/

Hermione stepped out of the Floo and into the small living room.

She brushed the soot from her blazer and set her briefcase down on the nearby armchair.

"Hellooo!" She called, heading immediately to Draco's office.

He was already rising from his chair, looking tired but content.

"You're back early. How did it go, love?"

She hugged him tightly and told him, the words pouring out in a flood.

"It was wonderful! Okay, yes, it was a small convention overall but I didn't expect it to be packed either. I mean, I know the British Wizarding Summit on Communication and Muggle Technology isn't the most popular of events. But you should have seen Arthur, he was absolutely thrilled I took him along. The research is actually really impressive as well. Good thing I remembered to magically enlarge my briefcase or all my notes wouldn't have fit! Muggle communication really is surpassing that of the Wizarding World's, especially now that the internet is readily accessible. I can't believe with all of our magic, we don't have an equivalent! But it was fascinating to hear all the magical advancements that independent companies are exploring to bring the best Muggle Gadgets into the Wizarding world without them going haywire. I know it won't be for awhile yet, but I think in the future, people will be fighting to patent televisions and computers that have been magically altered. It astounds me that so many wizards are in the dark about all of this! I can't wait to draft my article for the paper, and by the way, I've written out briefs for the most interesting companies in case you wanted to look into it for investment purposes and I added tabs for easier perusing-"

"I look forward to taking a look. Shall we talk more over supper? There's still quite a bit of stew leftover."

Their flat, while not as lavish as the one Draco had imagined during their Hogwarts years, was cosy and had just enough space for the both of them.

Part of the reason they weren't living in luxury was because Hermione had insisted on paying for half of the rent. While she couldn't afford anything too extravagant, she had conceded in letting Draco purchase the furniture and hire an interior designer.

Hermione had been reluctant to give in, but Draco finally put his foot down, insisting his mother would never let them hear the end of it if they invited her over and forced her to sit on cotton cushions.

"You'll never guess who I ran into!" Hermione called, tossing her blazer on the couch and feeling a happy, bubbly feeling as she watched Draco set two warm bowls out on their dining table.

She'd only been gone two days, but she'd missed him. She always missed him when either she or he left on business trips. After six years of being together, five in the same flat, it felt strange to be apart from him for too long.

She sat down in front of him, picking up her spoon and digging in. It had been arduous teaching Draco how to cook. He still wasn't quite up to the standard she'd like, given he had been cooked for his entire life, but he at least now had three solid recipes he could cycle through when he wasn't constantly getting food delivered or taking her out. Stew was his favourite.

"Who did you run into?" Draco asked, giving her a crooked grin. He knew she would never have the patience to let him guess.

"I ran into Professor Weathersby, a reputable Muggle engineer and his wife- Astoria Weathersby!"

Draco's jaw dropped in a way that was most satisfying to Hermione.

"You're joking."

"Nope! Turns out they met a while back, and they married shortly after! Apparently there's quite a bit of paperwork to get through when a magical person ties the knot with a Muggle, but there you go! He said the whole Wizarding world fascinates him and he's joined up with another wizard scientist to try and find ways to convert Muggle technology into magical products."

"Blaise'd told me there was some scandal where she'd run off with someone, though he conveniently left out it was a Muggle. Wow. Good for her."

"I thought so, too," Hermione beamed, eating a spoonful of stew. "She looked very happy. How was your weekend? Anything exciting happen?"

Hermione scowled as Crookshanks leapt up on the table. She'd been trying to teach him not to do that, but Draco always indulged the cat's worst behaviour when Hermione left for longer periods of time. Crookshanks settled in at Draco's elbow, looking gloatingly at Hermione.

"My weekend was rather drab. Finishing up my latest financial report," Draco replied flatly, scratching Crookshanks under the chin, "I swear to Salazar and all of bloody his descendants, if my client asks me to rewrite Annexe B one more time, I may make him eat it the whole blasted report," Draco grumbled, taking a sip of stew as if to hammer home his point.

Draco had become quite the businessman and economist. He'd studied with his father's accountant for three years before he was confident enough to open his own financial counselling firm.

Not only had he rearranged the family's finances into more ethical outlets, but he had also found ways to turn a higher profit. Not difficult- according to Draco- since shady pureblood businesses were on the decline and were no doubt going to continue on that way, the more Muggleborns were brought into Wizarding society. Unless another Voldemort came along, it was very unlikely the pureblood market would ever see much growth.

Draco also donated a chunk of Malfoy money to various charities as well as to Hogwarts, for students that needed a leg up. The Daily Prophet had even published a double page spread on Draco's charitable work after he had donated a very large, public sum to the Ministry Department of Non-Magical Integration, a fairly new department that was incidentally founded by Dean Thomas. Hermione had been one of the first people to find out about it and she immediately notified Draco of its potential to properly educate and initiate Muggles into the Wizarding world. Draco hadn't hesitated to pour money into it after that.

Draco now specialised in arranging finances for other rich purebloods. He researched, advised and made financial plans for families that were looking to allocate their money to the modern cause.

And he hated every second of it.

Hermione had brought it up several times about how unhappy he seemed. He already had plenty of wealth, nothing obliged him to keep banging his head against his wall of stubborn clients.

But Draco had insisted it was right. Hermione knew, despite the wide berth he'd created from his old self, that he still harboured some guilt. She understood this was the best way he knew how to make proper amends. By helping those who also wanted to make positive changes.

Unfortunately, a lot of these people were pompous old businesspeople who often insisted they knew Draco's job better than he did.

It made Hermione sad to watch him slog away, rewriting reports for the nth time, cursing under his breath late into the night.

She learned that nagging at him to find another job made him even more irritable. And of course it would- it wasn't always a simple thing to suddenly change professions, especially when you were good at what you did.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Hermione replied sympathetically, patting Draco's arm, "I can give you a nice back rub tonight if you want?"

Draco smiled and took her hand.

"Er…actually, something did happen. I don't know if it would qualify as good, but it's…interesting."

"Oh?"

"Potter Floo called today. He said Proudfoot is retiring and they're looking to hire in a new batch. Offered me a position."

Hermione's eyes grew big.

"As an Auror?"

"Yes."

Hermione squinted.

"You know…I could really see you doing that! You've kept your duelling up with Theo and Blaise, and you're exceedingly clever and you would still be doing good work for the community!"

"I'd be working with Potter."

Hermione snorted.

"Would that be so terrible?"

Draco's lips thinned.

"He would be my superior."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh come now, don't act like you're not friends! I see the both of you arguing over Quidditch all the time! And Harry is quite fond of you, you know. I think he rather enjoys how you still pretend not to like anyone even though you clearly do!"

Draco seemed to swallow his stew with difficulty.

"I'll think about it."

Hermione scoffed and took both their empty bowls away, giving Draco a peck on the head as she passed. He grabbed her wrist.

"I missed you," he said softly and pulled her in to kiss her lips. Their first kiss since she'd been back.

"You've got a busy weekend ahead of you?"

"I'm meeting Harry and Ron for brunch tomorrow and then visiting your mother in the afternoon. She wanted to show me the final renovations. You're sure you don't want to come?"

"She didn't invite me, actually. Perhaps she fancied some girl time, though, knowing her, she might try to trick you into helping her with something or other. We're still on for dinner on Sunday, though, right?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

She smiled and kissed him again, a deeper kiss this time, that promised more once they'd finished the washing up.

/

It was on a bright morning that Hermione sat down for brunch at the Leaky Cauldron with Ron and Harry, to catch up.

Harry's beard had grown out and was mercifully much neater than his hair. Ron was trying out a moustache which Hermione was sure Molly was bound to attempt to vanish at the next opportunity she got.

"How're Rose and Hugo?" Hermione asked, as their order of eggs, bacon, toast, sausage and orange juice arrived.

"Bonkers. Hugo does nothing but cry and Rose won't stop crashing her toy broom into the furniture. I haven't slept a wink in what feels like three days and I'm pretty sure I've lost sensation in my thumb from the number of times Hugo's bitten it, but otherwise, things are peachy."

"I think you've got a bit of spit-up on your shirt just there," Hermione pointed, wrinkling her nose.

Ron dabbed his finger in it.

"Ah yes, that'd be the marmalade. You've got loads to look forward to, Harry. Shirt goo, and runny noses and three coffees a day if you can wrangle it."

Harry winced.

"Ginny told me to say that she says 'Hello' and she's sorry she couldn't make it today but that her feet are killing her and that she feels like she's about ready to burst like a Watermelon hit with a Diffindo." Harry said the last with a slight grimace.

"That she is, her belly's gotten huge! Are you excited Harry? The baby must be due any day now?"

"They're saying a couple of weeks or so."

"Your first baby, Harry! How lovely!"

"Enjoy these last two weeks of freedom, mate. They'll be gone before you know it, and then you'll be neck deep in Scourgifying diapers and escaping to the loo for a precious two minutes of peace."

"Don't say that, Ron! Don't listen to him, Harry, I'm sure there are lots of wonderful things that fatherhood has in store."

Harry was too busy nervously shovelling eggs in his mouth to answer. He swallowed and quickly changed the subject.

"How's the paper going, Hermione? I saw Gibbly published her first article?"

Hermione beamed.

Hermione's paper Plumes and Pens had taken off as well as any new publication could. The celebrity of her name had helped give it a good head start and word of mouth proved to be one of her biggest marketing strengths.

Theo Nott had been the first person she'd approached to run it with her and, to her delight, he'd readily agreed. Together, they'd pooled their areas of interest and expertise to bring together a first edition that reached a niche but loyal audience.

They'd reached out to scientists, activists, ecologists, magizoologists, potion masters, healers, alchemists- all new researchers who were pushing the boundaries of knowledge. Their paper grew to have a reputation for academic, well-documented and sometimes controversial articles that created discourse.

Hermione's report on House Elves was particularly contentious. She'd brought up multiple new studies that proved Elf intelligence was equal to that of a human being and that their magic was, in some ways, superior to wizards.

She'd received quite a few dozen Howlers for that one.

A week later, Gibbly knocked on her door, asking for a job.

Gibbly's mistress was an old, kindly woman on her deathbed who, at the Elf's bequest, had set her free instead of forcing her to pass to the next owner of the house. The old woman had loved Gibbly like a family member and had even taught the Elf to read and write which was extremely uncommon.

Hermione hired Gibbly on the spot.

"Yes, she's making quite a splash! Obviously there's the usual duffers who are offended, but for the most part, her article created a lot of interest! Her perspective is fascinating, and it's about time we hear more opinions from magical beings who aren't wizards!"

"Good for Gibbly! Which reminds me, Rose is outgrowing all her clothes and shoes. If Gibbly is interested, she can swing by and pick out whatever she wants. Rose has surprisingly sophisticated tastes for a five-year-old so Gibbly won't look childish. Though she might be a tad smaller than Rose..."

"I'll let her know," Hermione answered cheerily.

"You know," Ron continued thoughtfully, "I reckon it's been awhile since it's just been the three of us."

"Hmmm, you're right," Hermione said pensively, tapping her chin with her fork, "I can't remember the last time only the three of us hung out. Life seems so full now, doesn't it?"

"It's…nice. It feels sort of nostalgic, don't you think?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded.

"We've come a long way, haven't we? Can you believe near seven years ago we were huddled in a tent and planning to murder one of the most evil wizards of all time? It almost sounds like a joke now."

"It feels like a lifetime ago. We really did go through a lot together, didn't we?"

"Can I just say," Ron cleared his throat, his ears going red, "I'm bloody happy we made it out alive and are still here today. Nothing keeps friends together like almost dying about eight times."

"Remember when we won the House Cup that first year? Remember how surprised everyone was when Dumbledore added a last-minute hundred and seventy points? And Neville and his ten points that saved the day?"

Ron guffawed loudly.

"Hard to forget. The look on Malfoy's face especially! I do hope you rub it in his face every evening at suppertime."

"I ended up telling him all about it actually! That time I took him to apologise to Hagrid in my eighth year."

Both Harry and Ron hooted.

"Malfoy apologised to Hagrid? Merlin, what I would have given to see that!"

"Don't be rude! It was a very nice apology. Hagrid was actually one of my first friends to accept him."

"Blimey, we've all changed, but he's changed most of all, hasn't he?" Ron said, looking bewildered.

Harry nodded sagely, chewing on his bacon.

Hermione looked around at her friends and felt a warmth in her heart.

"I'm so glad I got to see you both today. I'm really, really happy we're all here, and I couldn't ask for two better best friends."

"Come off it, Hermione, no need to get sentimental," Ron said gruffly, though he looked pleased.

Harry smiled and Hermione could tell he was appreciating them both in that quiet way he did sometimes.

They didn't need words to express what all three of them were thinking.

They would have died for each other.

That bond was eternal.

Yes, they had all changed. But some things never would.

/

Hermione departed brunch soon after to meet with Narcissa.

As Hermione Apparated at the Manor gates, she could already notice subtle changes in the architecture's silhouette.

She knew Narcissa had taken it upon herself to make a few tweaks, though Hermione hadn't quite realised the scale of it until now.

Draco had been very vocal about the fact that he thought it a waste of gold.

"If you're not in your villa in Italy, you're in your Château in France! What is the point of refurbishing an empty home?" He'd fumed during an afternoon when they'd been over for tea.

He was still set on selling the place but Narcissa stubbornly held on, insisting that, at the very least, the Manor needed an update if it was to make a decent market profit with inflation.

Hermione could sort of understand Narcissa's reluctance to sell.

This home had belonged to the Malfoys as far back as their family tree. Generations of history had been poured into this Wizarding house and you'd be hard-pressed to find another like it in all of Britain.

That being said, much of that history was surely tainted, without even going into what happened the year Draco had been trapped here.

The Malfoys had been affluent purebloods through and through, which meant Muggle blood had stained the floors long before Voldemort came along.

Draco wanted to push himself as far away as he could from it all.

"Hello, Hermione. How good of you to come visit."

Narcissa greeted Hermione at the door, Franz giving a little bow at her side.

While Hermione couldn't say she was necessarily close with Draco's mother, their relationship had improved much since their first encounter.

Despite Narcissa's cold demeanour and Muggle slights that seemed to escape every now and again seemingly on accident, Hermione had come to respect Mrs. Malfoy to a degree. Narcissa was a strong woman who let not a single person step on her toes. She commanded any room she was in and moved with a grace that was easily enviable.

Narcissa led Hermione into the Hall.

"Would you like any refreshments?"

"A glass of water would be very kind, thank you. How have you been, Narcissa? Is your family in Italy doing well?"

Narcissa inclined her head as Franz waltzed over holding a tray with a tall glass of water, ice and cucumber slivers. Hermione thanked him and he bowed.

"Very well, thank you. Cranky as usual, which can only mean they are in good health," Narcissa said airily, taking Hermione's arm.

"Come. I am quite eager to show off the work that has been done to someone who will appreciate it."

Hermione fought not to roll her eyes at the slight jab at Draco. Malfoys could be so petty.

Naturally, Narcissa had impeccable taste.

It was impossible for Hermione not to gape at times.

The Manor, in some places, was entirely unrecognisable.

The black marble floors had been somehow removed, replaced by polished, purple wood flooring. Many of the long columns had been demolished, leaving more space for sunlight.

Much of the dark furniture had been swapped for friendlier tones in the olives and warm blues.

Overall, the atmosphere seemed warmer, less intimidating, but still just as lavish.

It was the first time Hermione had visited the Manor's kitchen but, according to Narcissa, it had been entirely updated.

It was immense. High cupboards and an island in the centre and all the appliances a top chef could ask for. The kitchen was so large it had two sinks, one on either end.

Exotic plants hung from the rafters and the windows were large, framed by light olive green drapes.

"Oh my, how wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed.

Narcissa smiled.

She led Hermione to the dining room, which had been completely altered to fit the palette of the rest of the home. The table was large enough to easily fit a dozen.

Finally, Narcissa brought Hermione to a set of double doors.

She opened one and held her arm out for Hermione to enter first.

The sunlight blinded Hermione. Floor-to-ceiling windows spanned the wall to their left, revealing a sprawling view of the gardens. Live swans floated in ponds and Hermione had never seen so many rose bushes.

A fire in a stone fireplace crackled merrily away in front of several comfortable sofas. There was a tea table, shelves of books and a thick, fringed carpet that encircled it all.

"Look up."

Hermione bade as Narcissa instructed and she gasped.

A large, modern light sculpture hung from the ceiling. It sparkled with jade and emerald and bulbs of warm light bounced off the jewels in a kaleidoscope of colours.

"Gorgeous, isn't it? The artist is Italian and a dear friend of mine. I brought this back with me and had it installed immediately."

Hermione looked around and, for the first time, was hit with a feeling of déja vu. She had been here before.

And then it hit her.

They were in the drawing room.

This was where it happened.

Where she'd been tortured.

Hermione stopped breathing.

She had to squint hard, but she was sure she found the spot where she'd writhed on the floor as Bellatrix had Crucio'd her, right there where a sofa now stood.

Hermione looked up at the elaborate light fixture that hung where the old Chandelier had been. The one Dobby had unscrewed.

Even though the place had been completely altered to the point where it was barely recognizable, it felt incredibly uncanny to be back.

"Let me show you something," Narcissa said softly.

Hermione mutely followed her around the sofa.

On the wall next to the fireplace, there were small notches carved into the stone.

Hermione flinched. Is this where the Malfoys had thrown daggers at their Muggle prey? Had Death Eaters pinned innocent people to the wall and forced them to suffer?

Narcissa knelt down and pointed at the first notch.

"We made this when Draco was two."

Hermione's wild thoughts of death and pain simmered down and curiosity replaced it.

She leaned in closer and saw a tiny number '2' etched into the stone wall, right next to the first notch.

And sure enough, each notch had a number. The age at which they'd recorded Draco's height.

Her chest grew warm.

Narcissa ran her hand over each notch with care. Hermione could tell she was remembering. And sure enough, Narcissa shared.

"This was when he was five. He was such a bright, quiet boy, always reading. And this was when he was seven. He started getting a smart mouth around that age, probably learned it from his father. We recorded his height all the way up to eleven. This last one was done right before he left for Hogwarts."

Narcissa stood and led Hermione over to the windows.

"I used to stand by these windows and watch Draco and Lucius play outside for hours. Draco would fly around on his little broom, or chase after the peacocks and Lucius would chase after him. Draco left the birds alone once one of them finally managed to take a chunk out of his ear. It had cost us a pretty Galleon to get that fixed without any scarring."

"Draco chased peacocks?" Hermione asked incredulously.

Hermione had a sudden vision of Draco as a child, crying in his mother's arms while his father scolded him.

"Would you like to see pictures?"

Hermione's face broke into a bright smile.

"Please!"

Narcissa summoned a book from a shelf and she and Hermione sat on one of the comfortable sofas.

And then, Hermione learned more about Draco's life than she'd ever had in one go.

Narcissa showed her photos of baby Draco wearing smart little baby robes, toddler Draco taking his first steps in the kitchen, child Draco running about the halls, a sullen, teenager Draco, reading by one of the windows. Hermione's heart leapt as she recognized The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2.

There were photos of the family as well. Photos as everyone sat at the dining table for Christmas, photos of picnics and tea. Hermione recognized some familiar faces with a jolt.

Bellatrix Lestrange looked so different. Younger, certainly, but her hair was also neater, her eyes weren't bloodshot, nor were her teeth rotten. She was laughing, but not in a cruel, twisted way. In a full, joyous way. It made Hermione deeply sad to think of how very much Narcissa's sister had been corrupted by dark magic and how much Narcissa must have suffered to see the change slowly happen over such a long period of time.

And Hermione finally fully understood what this house meant to Narcissa.

It had sad times, certainly, but it had happier times still. Some of the happiest memories were right here, when there had been no wars, when the family hadn't been divided. When they could simply live in harmony together. This is what Narcissa held onto so dearly.

"I know Draco doesn't have much love for this place anymore," Narcissa said gently, looking out the window serenely, "but to me, this is the only true home I know. I shared this home with my love. I raised my son. I had priceless memories with my family. I rather hoped that…that perhaps one day Draco could come to build happy memories of his own here. Perhaps even raise a child if he wanted."

hat forest, so long ago, as Harry lay alive on the ground. Known that she'd lost Andromeda to their clashing beliefs, lost Bellatrix to Voldemort, lost Lucius to the darkness. Draco was the only one left who could surely be saved, who could come back from it all.

And he had. Through sheer strength of will, he'd come out of it all, survived and thrived.

He was the only close family Narcissa had left.

Narcissa turned to look at Hermione and Hermione saw a single tear clinging to the woman's cheek before finally sliding down along her delicate jawline.

Hermione never thought she would ever see Narcissa Malfoy cry. To Hermione, Narcissa had never looked stronger.

"This Manor is only as powerful, as sturdy, as good as the people who live it. I cannot force Draco to reside here. If, after all this, he still doesn't want it, I will sell it. But please, please do me the favour of considering it. It would mean the world to me. I would so love to visit my future grandchild here."

Hermione looked away uncertainly.

The Manor was definitely a dream home and a half. She'd noticed Narcissa had even taken the time to choose colours and patterns that suited both Draco and Hermione's tastes.

It was far too extravagant a gift and yet how could they refuse when so much time and care had gone into reinventing it with them specifically in mind?

And then there was the matter of grandchildren. Hermione still didn't even know if she wanted any. How was she supposed to tell Narcissa that, when Narcissa had just stopped short of begging for them? After Narcissa had spent years of her life remodelling away all the bad memories for the sole purpose of giving her son and his future family a place to live that was still unquestionably Malfoy in its core?

Narcissa was clearly a master manipulator, and yet the tears in her eyes were very real.

This was Narcissa's last ditch effort to finally convince Draco to come home.

"I'll talk to him," was all Hermione could promise, but it was enough.

Narcissa beamed, and gave Hermione's hand a pat.

The two of them rose and, as Hermione headed for the doors, she noticed Narcissa pause in front of a framed photo on the mantelpiece.

It was of her and Lucius on their wedding day, taken in the Manor gardens, surrounded by roses.

If Narcissa shed more tears, Hermione was none the wiser, as she'd quietly departed the room to let the lady of Malfoy Manor have a moment alone with her thoughts.

/

"Where are you taking me?"

"Hermione, the whole point of a surprise is that you're only supposed to know at the last second."

Draco and Hermione were both dressed to the nines, Hermione in a fitted, dark blue evening dress and Draco in his smartest black suit.

A dirty tire sat on their dining table.

Draco held up a blindfold, smirking.

"Ugh! Fine, but you know how much I hate not knowing things!"

She allowed him to tie the blindfold around her eyes.

"Are you taking me to Les Bobards? Or is it the new place you tried with Theo and Blaise that you were raving about the other night?"

Draco laughed.

"It's a surprise, Hermione."

"Ugh!"

Hermione felt him take her hand and pulled her in.

"Hold on tight. Very tight."

She could hear the anticipation in his voice. It made her even more nervous.

"What do you mean, 'very tight'? How far are we going?"

"It's an International Portkey."

"Draco! Wha-"

She felt the familiar jerk around her navel as Draco touched the tire and the Portkey swept them off to Godric knew where.

When their feet slammed into the ground, Hermione teetered, but Draco held on firmly.

She could hear a smattering of voices. The place smelt like clean carpet and some sort of perfume.

"Draco-"

"Shush and keep that blindfold on or you'll get a spanking," Draco said in a low voice.

She clamped her mouth shut, feeling suddenly warm.

"Hello, I have a reservation under 'Malfoy'."

"Ah, yes, Mr. Malfoy, good of you to come. And this is…er-"

"My partner. I've taken her here as a surprise."

By the conspiratorial way Draco said it, she could almost imagine him winking at whatever host he was talking to. She detected a faint accent, but the English sounded international enough that Hermione couldn't quite tell where it was from.

"I…see. Well, Mr. Malfoy, please come right this way."

"Right what way? Draco, this is getting ridiculous, can I take it off now?"

"Not quite yet," Draco answered far too cheerily and Hermione huffed in frustration. She would box his ears the first chance she got.

He led her into what she guessed was an elevator by the sound of it. She could hear a few passerbys muttering about her. What if she pretended she was getting kidnapped? That'd teach Draco to surprise her.

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently on the elevator carpet. She knew he was smirking. He was always smirking when he was in control and she was not.

The elevator dinged after an eternity and Draco led Hermione out. There was a jingling of keys. Odd. Weren't they going to a restaurant?

Draco walked her a few more steps and then let her go. She felt the blindfold fall from her eyes.

She gasped audibly.

Before her was a gigantic room with a gigantic bed and a stunning view of a city. A table was laid out by the windows, with what looked like a veritable feast for two.

She knew this room. Of course she did.

Because Draco had taken her here once before.

She spun around.

"Germany? You took us to Germany? Draco, I have work tomorrow!"

"Relax, Hermione. I promised you once that I would treat you to a night at the Morgen Stern Hotel and I just so happened to fancy a visit tonight!"

"Visiting another country for an evening is pure folly! This will cost a fortune!"

Draco sighed dramatically.

"Hermione, how many times do I have to tell you? I'm stinking rich. Can't you just let me shower you with it every now and then? We're in Germany with the best view the city of Berlin can offer. Let's enjoy it."

He gave her no room to argue. As she protested, he gently pushed her towards the table.

There was roasted duck, green beans, gravy, cherry tomatoes, baked potatoes dripping in butter, turnips, cranberry sauce, jellies and much more. It was the delicious smell that finally made Hermione sigh in resignation and sit in the chair Draco had pulled out for her.

He sat across from her, smiling from ear to ear.

"Surprise."

She couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, Draco. You're far too much, but this…This really is beautiful. Thank you so much for planning all this. It's far too much but it's…it's…"

She looked to the left and the view struck her. She swayed with vertigo but couldn't look away. They must be at least a hundred floors high. She could see her reflection in the glass as well as Draco's. He was looking at her.

"I live to make you speechless. It really feels satisfying to astound the woman who knows it all."

She snorted.

"What is the occasion? Why've you suddenly got the urge to sweep me off my feet in one of the most lavish hotels in Europe?"

She felt her heart beat a little faster.

"Do I need an excuse to treat the woman I love to an extravagant night out?"

Hermione smiled and raised an eyebrow.

Draco chuckled.

"You're too clever for your own good."

The smile on his face faded and he suddenly looked solemn. He took Hermione's hand. She held her breath. She could already feel tears prickling her eyes.

"I know you've already gotten it figured out. You're always one step ahead of me and it's one of the things I love the most about you. I love how you always plan everything eight steps in advance. I love how, when something interests you, you have to read at least eight books about it. I love it when you come to me right after and tell me about those eight books you've read. Your face always lights up in the most beautiful way when you learn something new."

She was definitely tearing up now. Draco was looking at her, with earnest intensity. The way he often looked at her when he was speaking from the heart.

"This room, the room where it all started- I'll forever be grateful for it. I never imagined I would meet someone as inspiring, independent, driven, passionate and so, so fucking beautiful as you. Not only did you forgive me for my many past wrongs, but you gave me the hope and strength I needed to climb out of the ditch I'd dug for myself, and start rebuilding the life I'd lost. You've taught me how to be humble, open-minded and a better man. You saved me, Hermione, and I am infinitely grateful that you've done me the honour, for all these years, of being a part of your life."

Draco stood up and got down on one knee in front of her. Hermione's lips trembled as tears leaked from her eyes.

"I love you, so damned much. So much it hurts. So much that all I want to do is give you the world, every single day, for the rest of our lives, if you'll let me. Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?"

He pulled a box out of his jacket pocket.

The ring was a simple gold band. There was a red and gold diamond set in the middle. Understated and practical. Draco knew her enough to know she would have never worn a huge rock.

She loved it.

"Oh, Draco, of course I'll marry you!" She said and the smile he gave her made her melt. She pulled him up and he kissed her and it felt like time had stopped just for the two of them. He slipped the ring on her finger and it was perfect. Everything was perfect. Everything except-

"Oh! But wait!"

Draco paused, worry suddenly creasing his features.

"Before- before I fully agree, there's er- something you should probably know first…"

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes…Well, sort of. I…"

Hermione took a deep breath.

"I'm pregnant."

Draco gaped at her.

"I- yes, I know it's a bit of a shock," Hermione continued, "Something your mother said yesterday about grandkids reminded me I hadn't gotten my period in awhile and well, I thought I'd check for good measure and er- well good thing I did because it was positive and I wanted to tell you! But then you had all this surprise planned and- and- I mean we obviously don't have to keep it if you don't want to. I know you might be switching jobs soon and it might be a lot and-"

"I want to keep it."

"I- Sorry, you do?"

"That is- if you want to."

"I…I do! Oh Merlin, yes, I want to keep it too!"

"You do?"

They both looked at each other, in shock.

"Yes!" Hermione finally exclaimed, "That is to say, I've given it a lot of thought and I…I've accomplished everything I've wanted to and I'm- I'm ready. I want us to have a little child and you'll be such a good father, Draco!"

Draco stared at her and his eyes looked wet for a moment. And then, he blinked and suddenly his face split into a wide grin.

"We're…getting married! And having a baby!"

Draco threw his head back and laughed. The sound was joyous, triumphant and completely contagious. Hermione wanted to burst with happiness. She laughed too as he wrapped his arms around her and swung her round.

He finally put her down. They were both breathing hard. His hair was a little mussed and his cheeks were flushed. He looked gorgeous.

"You're going to be my wife. And carry our baby," he whispered close to her face with quiet reverence, as if he still couldn't believe it. The honest feeling in his voice reverberated in Hermione's core.

And very suddenly, she needed him.

She flung her arms around him and jumped up. He caught her and her dress tore at the side as she wrapped her legs around him, but who cared? The only thing that mattered was kissing him and pressing her body to him and touching him as much as possible.

He proceeded to rip the rest of her dress off while she grappled at his vest buttons. They feverishly tore their remaining clothes off, kissing whenever they could.

When Hermione finally flung away her knickers, she pushed Draco down on the bed and climbed on top of him.

She touched herself between her legs with three fingers, making sure he could see the ring while she did.

He groaned, gripping her hips.

Foreplay did not last long. Her pussy was throbbing too painfully at this point.

She sank down on his cock and rode him hard and fast, her breasts bouncing to the rhythm.

She was going to be his wife.

Her orgasm almost made her black out.

She collapsed on top of him as he hammered his own orgasm upwards into her cervix, groaning her name.

They cuddled and kissed some more and ordered dessert and made love a couple more times.

It was oddly nostalgic. So completely reminiscent of a time when they had been two students, experimenting in a hidden, magical Room in a castle far away.

Little had they known that those first encounters would be the foundations of something everlasting, something enduring, something so powerful, so unyielding and so bonding that they would be forever changed by it.

A true love that stood the test of time.

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,

And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind."

-William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

THE END

/

Thank you, thank you, thank you. To those kind enough to follow me on this journey, Chapter by Chapter. For all the kind words of encouragement, constructive feedback and predictions that, ultimately, shaped the story more than you could know. I am so humbled and grateful to receive your thoughts and it was truly the driving force of this little fanfic. Happy New Year to all, and I wish you nothing but the most wondrous of things. ?