Hermione lay in bed thinking of the past few years of her life. Where she was at the present moment wasn’t what she had planned when she was younger, fresh out of Hogwarts. By the age of twenty-six, she had hoped to be married (preferably to Ron), with kids, and a nice home, but . . . life just didn’t turn out that way for her. Yes, she was married but not to Ron; nor was she married to anyone of whom Harry or Ron would approve of. She had not expected this to happen; it’s just how things turned out.

Once the trio had defeated Voldemort, they all seemed to go their separate ways. Harry began to work at becoming an Auror, and Ron went off to secure a job in the Ministry with his father. Of course, she still talked to them whenever she saw them, but that wasn’t often. The two were still on non-speaking terms with her after what had happened five years ago.


~*~


It was a beautiful summer’s day, and Hermione was in the kitchen at the Burrow putting a pot of water on to boil. She practically had to force Mrs. Weasley to allow her to do it for herself, and, in the end, she had won the battle. She enjoyed making tea the Muggle way even though it took longer than when one used magic.

“Hermione, are you sure you don’t want me to do that for you? It’s no problem, really,” Mrs. Weasley said from the table. She had her hands placed on the table in a way that Hermione realised made it easier for her to get up before Hermione could answer.

“No, no, Mrs. Weasley, I can do it. I really like making tea the Muggle way.” Hermione smiled and turned to the stove once more. She waited for the kettle to whistle, signaling that the water was ready to be poured. Once it did, she took two small teacups from the cabinet and placed them on the countertop.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Hermione turned to see who was standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Mum,” Ron said as he pulled out a chair across from Mrs. Weasley. “Hey, Hermione, could I get a cup of that?”

Hermione nodded and reached for another cup, placing it next to her own and Mrs. Weasley’s. She slowly poured the hot water into each cup, placed a teabag in each one, and carried two of them over to the table before going back to get her own. She sat down next to Ron and reached for the bowl of sugar.

“What are your plans for today?” Mrs. Weasley asked, taking a sip from her cup. She smiled warmly at the pair and patiently waited for one of them to answer.

“To be honest, I have no idea. I think Harry is supposed to be meeting us in Diagon Alley soon,” Ron answered.

“Yes, he is,” Hermione replied. She looked up at the clock on the wall and noticed that it was half past twelve. She knew that Harry was to be at Diagon Alley at one o’clock. She quickly drank the rest of her tea, burning her mouth in the process, and got up from the table. “In fact, we should leave now just so we’re there before Harry arrives.”

Ron nodded and got up to put his cup in the sink. He walked over to his mother and to deposit a kiss on her cheek.

“We’ll be home a little later. Harry might come by, too, to see you.”

Mrs. Weasley smiled. “Of course, of course. Ask him if he would like to have dinner with us. He hasn’t joined us for a meal in a while.”

Hermione walked around the table and hugged Mrs. Weasley. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

With that, Hermione and Ron walked into the living room and up to the fireplace. They were going to take the Floo Network to save on time, so they each grabbed a handful of the powder, threw it into the fireplace, and stepped in. Shouting “The Leaky Cauldron” as loudly and as clearly as she could, Hermione disappeared from the house. Ron followed suit, and appeared in the old pub a few moments after she had.

“Do you want to get a drink first, or go wait for Harry somewhere?” Ron asked as he stepped out of the fireplace.

“Let’s get a drink. I’m sure Harry won’t be here for a little while longer.”

Hermione and Ron walked over to where the bartender was and waited to give the man their order. Hermione looked around the room and noticed that there weren’t many people there even though it was a Friday.

“What can I get you two?” the bartender asked.

“Um, I’ll have a Firewhisky, and I’m not sure what she wants,” Ron answered, nodding his head towards Hermione.

“I’ll just have a Butterbeer, please.”

The bartender nodded and walked away to get their drinks. Ron watched the bartender make the drinks and nodded a “thank you” as he took the Firewhisky. Taking a large gulp, he turned to Hermione who was quietly sipping her Butterbeer.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just a little tired, that’s all,” Hermione replied placing the glass on the counter in front of her. She folded her arms and continued to look around the dirty pub. It had been a while since she was in there: four years to be exact. The last time she was there was to get to Diagon Alley in order to buy school supplies.

“Are you sure that’s all? It seems like there’s more to it than that,” Ron coaxed. He continued to stare at her as he took another gulp from his glass.

“Yes, I’m sure. What is your problem? Why do you keep insisting that there’s something wrong with me?” Hermione snapped, glaring at Ron.

Ron’s face turned bright red, and he was at a complete loss for words. He was used to Hermione getting mad at him, but there was usually a sound reason behind it. The fact that she was yelling at him at this moment for asking a simple question confused him. He didn’t think that it was as big of a deal as she was making it, and, if he was completely honest with himself, she was scaring him.

“Well, I �“ I just thought that maybe there was something else wrong. It just seemed like it, that’s all.”

Hermione sighed and finished off her drink. She was tired of arguing. That’s all the two of them ever did now, was argue. Every day it seemed as though it were getting worse. They couldn’t agree on anything anymore, and each time Hermione wanted to just be by herself, Ron would make up an excuse to bother her. She knew that he meant well when he did things like that, but . . . the thing she thought was sweet in the beginning of their relationship now annoyed her to no end.

“Maybe you should stop over-thinking things then,” Hermione said. She jumped down from the stool she was sitting on and started to walk towards the backdoor that led to Diagon Alley. Once she reached the doorway, she turned around to face Ron. “Well, are you coming?”

Ron quickly finished his drink, paid the bartender, and walked over to where Hermione was standing. He nodded for her to go ahead and tap the bricks. He was anxiously awaiting the moment Harry would arrive. He took a quick glance at his watch and noticed that only three minutes remained until Harry should meet them. Harry was never the type to be late to see his friends, best friends at that.

Hermione stepped through the opening in the wall and continued to walk through the streets of Diagon Alley before Ron had the chance to catch up with her. She didn’t know why she was so angry at him for practically nothing, she just was. No matter what one of them did, the other was sure to be angry. The smallest thing would set the other off, and sometimes it would be days (even weeks) before they would speak to each other. It was a good thing that they didn’t buy a house together yet. They had been planning to make that move soon, but neither of them had the money for it just yet.

It was not as if they were looking for a new home, either. Ron still lived at the Burrow, and Hermione was still living at home with her parents. Of course, her parents didn’t mind her being there, but she was twenty-one years old. She wanted to move out on her own and get a good job. She was tired of having to abide by her parents’ rules, even though she knew that once she moved out she would continue to follow them. What annoyed her most was the idea that it was currently mandatory for her to follow these rules, regardless of the fact that she was an adult and thus thought she should be treated as one.

Ron, on the other hand, enjoyed staying at the Burrow. He was used to the many people running around and the loudness of his family as they all spoke at once at the dinner table. There were times when he wished he could get away for a while, but he would always change his mind as soon as George or Ginny asked him to play a small game of Quidditch outside.

The pair knew that they would have to make the move sometime, and it was usually better to do something that big sooner rather than later. Hermione just wanted to wait until they had saved enough money to get them through the first few months (or year) of living on their own, together. She always wanted to wait and see if their relationship got any better. She had a feeling that if they lived together, it may get better, but then there was always the chance that it could get worse.

”So . . .” Draco began. He couldn’t find the right words for what he wanted to ask. He didn’t want to seem like he was prying into her life. The girl, of course, still hated him with probably every ounce of her being, even if she was sitting there with him at that moment.

“So what?” Hermione asked, as she called the bartender back over for another drink.

Draco looked at her and tried to read her facial expressions. The entire time they were with each other that day, she seemed as though she were in a bad mood, yet . . . she had accepted his invitation to have a drink. None of it made any sense. He thought that he would have repulsed her still and that she would have stayed with Harry and Ron.

“Well, I just wanted to ask you what was wrong. I know you said earlier that nothing was bothering you, but I don’t really believe that.”

Hermione sighed. She knew he would ask that question eventually. She had hoped that it would have been later instead of now. Ron had asked her the same thing, yet she didn’t tell him what was bothering her. So why should she tell Draco? For some reason, she couldn’t help but feel like he could help her with her problem, so she decided it would be best to just lay everything out for him.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t ask me that again,” she replied. “It’s not really the fact of what’s bothering me at this moment; it’s what has been bothering me.”

Draco nodded and encouraged her to continue.

“Well, you already know that Ron and I are sort of together. We have been since sixth year, basically. Things started out really well, but now . . .” her voice trailed off, and she looked down at the glass she was holding.

“Things are bad?” Draco asked.

Hermione nodded. “Things have been bad. All we do is argue, and it’s always over the smallest things. He could ask me a simple question, and I’ll snap at him. Or I’ll tell him that I want to be alone to just relax, and he’ll continue to bother me.

“The things I once loved about him, I now . . . hate,” she finished. She lifted the glass to her lips and finished off her drink. She hiccupped, and then turned her head to look at him.

Draco didn’t know what to say. He was never one who was good at sympathy, and he never had to give sympathy to this particular woman. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but then again, he didn’t want to not say anything at all.

“Oh, that sounds �“ “

“Terrible, I know. I don’t want sympathy, Draco, honestly. I just . . . want to know why things just can’t go back to the way they were in the beginning.”

“Maybe these things were meant to happen. Maybe you two aren’t meant for each other anymore,” Draco suggested. He took a gulp of his Firewhisky and continued to stare at her. He noticed that her eyes had begun to fill with tears, and he hoped that what he had said wasn’t the cause.

“Actually, I think you’re right,” Hermione said in a low voice, choking back the tears that threatened to pour out at any minute. “I think I realised that a long time ago, but I just didn’t want to admit it. I still love him, honestly, I do, but it’s not healthy to be with someone when all you do is argue.”

Draco nodded again. It seemed as though that was all he had been doing the whole time. He couldn’t think of anything he could say that would make her feel any better, and he didn’t want to press his luck with her. The day had been going pretty well so far, and he didn’t want to ruin it at that moment, especially when Hermione needed someone whom she could at least talk to, even if it was him.

Hermione wiped her eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think that talking about this would upset me so much.”

“It’s understandable that you’re upset. It’s not easy admitting that someone you love isn’t worth your time anymore.”

Hermione gave him a slight smile. She never realised how much she and Draco had in common. For her, the person she loved was a boyfriend, but for him, it was a parent. She couldn’t imagine the pain Draco was in from not being able, or not wanting, to speak to his father. She was fairly close to her own parents, and it pained her to even think of the idea of not speaking to one of them for more than a week, let alone the rest of her life.

“So, you said you lived near London. How’s that going for you?” Hermione said in an attempt to change the subject.

Draco laughed. “It’s much harder than I thought it would be. I can’t do magic out in the open like I could at my parents’ house. Of course, I use it all the time in my own home and wherever else I can.”

“Do you talk to any of your neighbors, or do you just keep to yourself?”

“I mainly keep to myself. There are a few ‘hello’s and ‘how are you’s’ exchanged here and there, but nothing more than that.”

Hermione couldn’t keep herself from laughing. Just the image of Draco actually speaking to Muggles cheered her up. A Malfoy being friendly to Muggles was not something that anyone would have expected, not even Hermione.

She looked up at the clock hanging on the wall, and she realised that it was starting to get extremely late. She couldn’t believe how quickly the time had flown, and although she knew that she should go back to the Burrow, she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to ruin her cheerful mood by arguing with Ron again that day. She also didn’t want to have to argue with Harry about the same thing. The only problem with that was . . . she had nowhere else to go.

She could go to her own home, but she knew that her parents would be asleep by the time she arrived. They still didn’t know how to work the Owl Post, so she couldn’t send an owl to let them know she was coming home early. There weren’t any telephones at the Burrow. She sighed and tried to think of where she could stay so that she could try and avoid Ron and Harry for at least a little while.

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked, making Hermione jump at the sudden sound of his voice. She had forgotten that she was sitting there with him while she thought about everything.

“Oh, um, nothing,” Hermione lied. She attempted to fake a smile. She couldn’t remember how many Firewhiskys she had drunk, but she knew that it had to have been a lot. She was starting to feel the effects of the drinks, and she knew that if she stood up there was a slight chance she would lose her balance.

“It can’t be nothing. Just by the look on your face, I can tell that something’s wrong. Just tell me.”

Hermione sighed. “Fine, it’s just that it’s getting late, and I should really be getting back to the Burrow, but . . .”

“You don’t want to deal with Ron, right?” Draco finished for her as he nodded his head. “Well, you could always, um . . .”

“I could always . . . what?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You could �“ um �“ stay at my house, that is, if you wanted to,” Draco said. He lifted his glass to ask the bartender for a refill and to avoid looking at Hermione.

He couldn’t believe he had just invited her to his house. He had the feeling that she would say no before he had even mentioned it, but she was desperate. There was a slight chance that she would say yes, and the thought of having company over excited him. No one had been to his home besides his mother who frequently came to check up on him. She didn’t like the idea of him living alone near London, but she also knew that there wasn’t anything she could say or do that would change his mind.

“Oh, well . . . I �“ um �“ I guess that would be nice,” Hermione stammered. She could have kicked herself for accepting the offer, but she knew that she had no other choice if she wanted to avoid Ron. She hoped that Draco at least had a comfortable couch she could sleep on, or, assuming his mother probably would have helped him with paying for the apartment, he may have had a guest bedroom with a nice bed.

“Really? You really want to stay there with me?” Draco asked with the total shock of her acceptance showing in his voice. He watched as she slowly nodded her head, and he couldn’t help but smile at her. After four years of not speaking to anyone he had gone to Hogwarts with or anyone at all for that matter, someone was finally going to stay at his house with him. He never used to enjoy company, but there was only so much alone time a person could stand before driving themselves mad. Draco was close to that point.

“Yes, really I would like to stay there. It’s a whole lot better than going back to the Burrow. I know I’ll have to go back eventually and face the consequences, but hopefully that could wait a little while,” Hermione replied, smiling back at him.

“Well, shall we go then? So I can show you where you’ll be sleeping and such?” Draco said, sliding off the stool.

“Yes, let’s go,” Hermione said. She jumped down from the stool, but before she turned to leave the pub, she stopped to finish the full glass of Firewhisky the bartender had brought over to her. She shoved her hands in her pockets to find her money, but Draco placed a hand on her arm to stop her.

“No, I got it. Keep your money for something you really need,” he said. With that, he paid the man, and they began to walk towards the door that led out into Muggle London.

Once Draco was out of sight, Hermione put her hands over her face and shook her head. She couldn’t believe that she had just kissed him. It was Draco after all. Even though she had forgiven him for how he treated her in Hogwarts, she still didn’t forget it.

The first thought that came to her mind was how would she tell Ron? How could she tell Ron? Although they were going through a tough time now, she still loved him. She knew that she would always love him, but . . . maybe what had just happened was a hint at what she should choose. She knew that it would be one of the biggest, and hardest, decisions of her life. She had to choose between Ron, the boy who had been one of her best friends since her first year at Hogwarts, and Draco, the boy who had been her enemy since her first year at Hogwarts, but was now . . . what?

She didn’t know where she stood with him. They had just shared one of the greatest kisses she had ever had, but they had both drank a lot. She wasn’t sure if the alcohol had affected what had happened, or if their feelings towards each other had changed. She knew that she was comfortable around Draco now, but could she actually see herself with him? She had hated the man for almost her whole life, and now she was starting to feel a mixture of feelings towards him.

The sound of footsteps broke through Hermione’s thoughts. She looked up as Draco handed her a warm cup of tea.

She smiled. “Thank you.” She placed the cup to her lips and took a long sip of the sweet liquid. She tried not to look at him as he walked to where he had been sitting a few moments ago, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Is the tea okay? Not too sweet, is it?” Draco asked as he sat down next to her. He took a drink from his own cup, and then placed it on the table in front of them.

“It’s perfect,” Hermione answered setting her cup down next to his. “Draco, I . . .”

“Please, don’t say it,” Draco sighed.

“Say what? You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You regret what just happened, and you probably want to leave, don’t you?” Draco said. He stared back at her with the pain clearly showing in his eyes.

“No, I �“ I wasn’t going to say that, actually,” Hermione replied clasping her hands together in her lap as she stared down at the floor.

“Then what were you going to say?”

“I �“ um �“ I was going to say that . . .” Hermione started. “I’m thinking of leaving Ron. I just can’t do it anymore. All the fighting with him is honestly starting to get to me.”

Draco couldn’t help but smile. Although he knew that it hurt her to leave Ron, he always knew that that only meant she could possibly want to stay with him. He knew it was a long-shot, but after what had just happened, that was all that came to mind.

“Are you sure that’s what you really want to do?” he asked.

Hermione sighed. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“So . . . what does this mean?”

Hermione looked up. She wasn’t expecting him to ask her that. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t know what it meant. She wasn’t sure if the kiss really meant something, or if it was just because of all the Firewhisky the two of them had drank. Either way, she was still going to break everything off with Ron. The fighting was too much for her, and after spending the day with Draco, she realised that she could be happy without him, that she was happy without him.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Maybe we should wait until we both get some sleep, and then . . . talk about things in the morning. Everything that has happened could have been because of the Fire Whiskey, and . . . I just want to make sure that it wasn’t.”

Draco nodded. He should have known that she would think that. No one can change the way they feel about someone in one night. At least, that’s what he always thought. One thing he did know was that the Firewhisky didn’t bother him as much as it had bothered her. Everything he had done that night was on his own. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to spend more time with her.

I guess it doesn’t matter what I want, does it? Draco thought to himself.

“Yeah, I �“ um �“ I guess you’re right,” he said. He picked up his cup and drank what was left of the tea. He gave her a small smile, and then took his cup into the kitchen.

Hermione slowly finished her own cup and followed Draco into the kitchen. When she looked through the doorway, she noticed that he was standing near the sink. His head was down, and he had a tight grip on each side of the counter.

“Draco? Are you okay?” she asked as she took a small step towards him.

The sound of her voice startled him, and he turned around, running his fingers through his hair.

“Me? Yeah, I �“ I’m fine,” he stuttered. The look on his face gave him away.

“No, you’re not. What’s wrong?” she said walking over to stand in front of him. She placed the cup in the sink and folded her arms against her chest.

Draco sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know. I mean, I’m happy that you’re going to do what makes you happy, but . . .”

“You don’t know what it means for us, right?” Hermione finished for him.

He nodded. “Exactly. I mean, you already think that it only happened because you drank too much Firewhisky. What makes you think that you won’t wake up tomorrow and realise that it was all a huge mistake? And that you really want to stay with Ron?”

Hermione moved in closer, and again she placed a hand on his cheek. “Draco, trust me, I don’t want to be with Ron anymore. He doesn’t make me happy anymore, and �“ well �“ you do. It really might just be the Firewhisky, but right now, I don’t care.”

With that, she leaned in and kissed him again. The feeling was, once again, an intense one, and she sighed when he wrapped his arms around her. She couldn’t help the way she felt; people can change in time. The fact that they were both older and more mature made her feel better about her decision.

In the morning, she decided that she would go to the Burrow and would break the news to Ron and Harry. She knew that it wouldn’t turn out well, but she had to do it. It was the only way that she could truly be happy. She didn’t want to lose her two best friends all because of Draco, but if it meant that she would be happy in the end, she had to. Her mother always told her to do things that made herself happy instead of worrying about others first, and for once, she was going to take that advice to heart. She was going to make herself happy, and if that meant spending her life with Draco, then she was willing to do just that.

All of the memories came rushing back to Hermione as if she was actually reliving it all. It upset her to remember the fact that she had broken Ron’s heart, and that him and Harry hated her now. But, if she pushed all of those things aside, she knew deep in her heart that she had made the right decision those many years ago. She was happy with how her life turned out. She was happy to be married to Draco.

It had been five years since she had last spoken to Ron and Harry. After she went back to the Burrow the morning after she realised her feelings for Draco, everything went downhill with her two best friends. As soon as she stepped through the door, the two of them were standing there, ready to yell at her. Of course, it ended with her leaving the house in tears to go back to Draco’s apartment. He welcomed her back with open arms, and she had been there ever since. She still saw Harry and Ron every now and then when she went to Diagon Alley, but they would always look in her direction, and then quickly turn away, disgust evident on their faces.

She sighed and looked at the clock on the table next to the bed. It was time for her to get showered and dressed. She knew that Draco was taking her to Malfoy Manor that day to see his mother. It would be her first visit there where she was actually welcome (for Draco she was welcome, but she knew his mother would feel the opposite).

Hermione climbed out of the bed and walked over to the dresser that held her clothes. She decided to go wearing a pair of black slacks and a white, button down shirt. She didn’t have to worry about her hair, she had begun to keep a full supply of the potion that straightened it out. It worked in a matter of minutes, and then all she had to do was style it. She figured she would keep it down with a black headband to keep it out of her face.

Once dressed and ready, she made her way through the hallway and into the kitchen. Draco was sitting at the table with a cup of tea, reading the Daily Prophet. He lifted his head and smiled at her.

“Good morning, are you all ready to go?” he asked, handing her his cup so they wouldn’t have to waste time by her making her own.

She took a sip of the warm liquid and smiled back. “Yeah, I think so. I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

He laughed and got up from the table. He walked over to her and gently wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck.

“You’ll be fine. I’m sure she’s had a change of heart after everything that has happened in the past.”

Hermione nodded. She still couldn’t help but feel nervous about formally meeting his mother. Narcissa wasn’t invited to the wedding for the sake of any arguments, and Hermione knew she would be upset with them for that. They had kept their wedding small with just the two of them, a random witness, and the Minister. The two had agreed to have a formal wedding once they told Narcissa about their relationship.

Draco let go of her, and he headed towards to front door. He looked over his shoulder, and she followed him. They stepped through the doorway and out onto the staircase. Once on the side walk, they both stepped and turned, Apparating on the spot to the Manor.

The house looked the same as it did years ago �“ huge. Hermione sighed and rubbed her hands together as the two made their way up the lawn and to the front door. Draco reached out and took her hand in his, gently squeezing it as he pushed open the door.

The flickering light from a fire burning in the living room was visible from the hallway, and so they walked towards it, knowing that Narcissa would be there. Draco turned into the room first, still holding onto Hermione’s hand.

Narcissa raised her head at the sound of their footsteps and smiled when she saw her son. She reached out for him to give her a hug, but when Draco stepped to the side to show that Hermione was with him, the smile on Narcissa’s face disappeared and her arms dropped to her sides.

“Why is she here?” Narcissa said.

“Mother, I’m sure you already know who she is, but . . . I wanted to formally introduce the two of you,” Draco replied. He stepped closer towards his mother and pulled Hermione along with him.

“Mother, this is Hermione, my wife.”

Narcissa’s face dropped. Obviously, she wasn’t expecting Draco to call her his ‘wife’, and she sat down in the chair she had previously occupied.

“What do you mean ‘wife’?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Draco looked back at Hermione who was busy studying the floor of the sitting room.

“You know what I mean by it. Hermione is my wife. We decided a while ago to be married with just the two of us and the Minister. No one knows about it, except for you, now.”

Narcissa shook her head. She couldn’t believe anything that her son was saying to her. She didn’t want to believe anything her son was saying to her. Even though she was more tolerant of Muggle-borns, and she was hardly ever disrespectful to most of them, she still wanted to keep have her family be all Purebloods.

“Draco, honey, that can’t be true. You would never do that,” Narcissa said. She looked up at her son and realised that he wasn’t lying to her. She watched as he lifted his left hand and showed her the ring that he had. He then lifted Hermione’s hand to let her see that Hermione had the same one.

Narcissa sighed. “Why would you do this? Why?”

“Because �“ I love her, Mother. I thought you, of all people, would understand that.”

“I do understand that, but . . . why her?” she asked.

“Mother, you don’t understand it at all. I married Hermione because I love her. I was wrong about her when I was in Hogwarts. She truly is an amazing woman, and . . . I’ve honestly grown to love her,” Draco said, his voice becoming a low whisper.

He looked at Hermione again and smiled. She forced herself to smile back at him, and then she turned and looked at Narcissa.

“Mrs. Malfoy, I know you don’t like me, but I just don’t want you to not talk to Draco because of the fact that we have been married,” Hermione said.

Narcissa turned her head to look at Hermione. Her face seemed to soften a bit, and she gave Hermione a small smile that was almost unnoticeable.

“Well, of course I won’t stop talking to my son. He’ll always be my son no matter what, and it’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just . . . I’m shocked that he got married to you after everything that has happened.”

Hermione nodded. She understood completely, and she was glad that Narcissa wasn’t going to disown Draco for marrying her. Hermione just wished that Narcissa would realise that she wasn’t as horrible as Narcissa thinks she is. She knew that it would take some time for Narcissa to come to terms with everything, but she was willing to wait. She was happy with her life and has been since that day in the Diagon Alley.

She turned her head towards Draco and smiled at him. She knew that things were going to get much better as time went by, and she was glad that she would go through everything with him by her side.