And it continues ... However, there is one aspect that I have not yet decided. So I shall put it to a vote of a sort. This story is essentially completely original, as canon is now complete. That being said, there is that whole "Epilogue" from the canon books issue. Some like to ignore the epilogue and consider the final chapter, the end of canon. Others like to include it. I have already decided that "The Cursed Child" will not be considered canon in regards to this story. Mostly because, for a Harry Potter story, it had very little Harry Potter and way too much of the mother of all plot hole devices ... Time travel.

But as the readers, I would like to know if you would like this story to include the Epilogue or ignore it. Essentially, will this continuation of Hermione and Killian simply have to deal with Hermione and Ron being together, or will it have to deal with Hermione and Ron also having children? I have the outline for both scenarios, but cannot decide. So if anyone would like to add their thoughts, please leave a comment/review.

But I digress ... Moving on ... Chapter One for Inseverable Fates is up and ready to go. Enjoy ...

- Chapter One -

An Unlikely Captive

It had been fourteen years since Lord Voldemort met his end in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Fourteen years since a prophecy about a young boy, marked as an equal by his enemy, came to a swift and determinate fruition. Fourteen years since the wizarding community breathed a collective sigh of relief, having survived a second long and bloody civil war. And fourteen years since Hermione's life took a turn that forever changed her future—a future that had always been just short of everything she ever wanted.

Hermione Weasley. Even now, after all these years, it seemed foreign and surreal to her. She had kept her maiden name within her work for the Ministry. It was a name she had strived to make respectable. Regardless, she was now a Weasley. Hermione Granger was nothing more than an organization of stenciled letters on a nameplate sitting proudly on her desk in the office for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Words. Words and memories of a life once lived.

"I'll be heading out then," said a man as he passed by Hermione's office. "Will you be much longer?"

"Not much," Hermione lied. "Goodnight, Winston."

"Goodnight, Ms. Granger," Winston said with a tip of his hat as he turned and disappeared into the darkness of the hall.

In truth, Hermione had no intentions of leaving anytime soon. She had work to do. She always had work to do. This night was no different. At least, that is what she attempted to convince herself.

The world had changed. With Voldemort's defeat, the line between good and evil became a blur. Allies and enemies; it was nearly impossible to tell the difference. The angelic lamb could very well hide a motivation driven by treachery and deception, while the ominous individual lurking in the shadows could prove your most valued friend.

A perfect example lay with Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Against all perceivable odds, they now worked together as Aurors for the Ministry. Partners, as it were. If someone had said to Hermione that Harry and Draco could spend more than a moment together without going at each other's throats, let alone work in tandem, she would have believed that person to be mad. Yet, there they were. And although their relationship appeared merely business, lacking any notable social bond, with Draco still tossing the occasional barb when the opportunity arose, its mere existence rebelled against any logical definition of normal.

Recently, Harry and Draco made headlines in the Dailey Prophet when they tracked down and arrested a significantly noteworthy criminal within the wizarding world. This enemy of the Ministry, like many others, blurred the line. A simple step in one direction or the other could easily alter a person's standings in the eyes of the law when one wanders through the middle gray. But in these times, there could be no exceptions. You were with the Ministry or you were against it. There was no middle ground. And as much as Hermione detested such a standard, she was bound by her duty.

Realizing that she had put it off for as long as she could, she closed up her books, filed her papers, and extinguished the candles on her desk. Before she made her way to the door, she carefully returned the Croniker of Life she had been staring at for the last thirty minutes or so to its proper place upon the shelf, the sanguine fluids contained within continuing on in an endless dance of avoidance. Then, with a heavily contemplative sigh, she exited, closing the door behind her.

Once outside her office, Hermione heard Harry and Draco engaged in conversation at the end of the hall. Nothing riled, excited, or even generally elevated in tone. Just talking as individuals do on a daily basis when coming in contact with one another. Such an occurrence should not be considered out of the ordinary. And, in truth, it was not out of the ordinary. With Harry and Draco, such and exchange had become the norm, which somehow made it all the more impossibly bizarre.

The two former bitter rivals were standing by the door of a disused storage room that had been converted into a temporary holding cell. To date, it had scarcely been used. While the cell was both efficient and practical in terms of accessibility for Aurors who worked within the Ministry itself, the system for handling detainees had become so incredibly streamlined in recent years, having such an area of containment had become almost obsolete. Most often, those captured by the Ministry were held and released, or immediately sent to Azkaban. In this case, however, the prisoner had been detained on orders from Harry under the pretense of an immediate transfer the following morning.

Being the current Head of the Aurors Department, this was a decision well within Harry's power. Those powers aside, however, it was widely known that this veer from common practice was made under heavy pressure from Tiberius Mourdim.

Tiberius was the current Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. The upper class wizard held significant influences within the Ministry. For years he had campaigned fiercely, intermingling with affluent families, ensuring his name was on the tongues and in the ears of anyone with any amount of wealth and influence. Many friends, many allies.

Very recently, Tiberius had been assaulted by the prisoner who now dwelled within the makeshift holding cell tucked away in a long forgotten corner of the Ministry of Magic. It was this attack, in fact, that forced Hermione to sign off on the countrywide manhunt that would eventually lead to the assailant's capture. Not before the powerful sorcerer had left a trail of destruction in his wake, however.

Hermione smiled as she walked over to Harry and Draco. She still found it so oddly funny to see them together.

"Hello boys."

"Hey, Hermione," Harry greeted warmly. Draco merely gave a curt little nod. It was better than what he used to do. "What are you doing here so late?" Harry went on.

"Yeah, shouldn't you be off declaring someone else an enemy of the Ministry?" Draco asked with a sneer.

"Knock it off, Malfoy," Harry interjected.

"Go spit, Potter," Draco spewed. "You watch; it will be one of us next."

"You, perhaps," Hermione threatened as she glared at Draco, although it was clearly an idle intimidation.

Feeling the blood rush to her face as her anger swelled, Hermione took a cooling breath. Her ire, however, was not entirely directed at Draco. In truth, she agreed with his frustrations. She was beginning to loathe her position within the Ministry. Everything she did, she did with the belief that it was for the betterment of the wizarding world. But things had changed. What they were, Hermione could not put to words. Even so, something did not feel right about it anymore.

"You're not planning on going in there, are you?" Harry asked, watching as Hermione eyed the door behind him.

Hermione did not answer. She did not have to. Her eyes told the story, and Harry was far too observant to miss it.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Harry offered.

"I appreciate your concern," Hermione said with a smile. "But one of my duties is to check on and evaluate all prisoners held by the Ministry."

"This is different and you know it," Harry urged.

"Too dangerous, I suppose?" Hermione teased. "He's restrained in his cell, is he not?"

"Yes," Harry agreed reluctantly. "But that's not exactly the—"

"Then I shall be fine," Hermione said simply.

"With most any other prisoner, I would be inclined to agree with you," Harry went on. "But—"

"Harry's right," Draco piped in suddenly. His sincerity caught Hermione off guard. "It's not a good idea … Perhaps you can check on him in the morning."

"In the morning he will be sent to Azkaban," Hermione dismissed. "Now, both of you can put your machismo away. I'm a big girl. I can handle myself. In fact, why don't you two take a break? I'll monitor this watch."

Harry and Draco exchanged glances, neither of them saying a word. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. Draco then did the same. Whatever it was that they wanted to say, it was clear that they could not come up with the right words.

"Hermione, I think—" Harry finally began before Draco cut him off.

"Never mind, Potter," he said. "Let it go."

"What?" Harry asked as if it was the most ridiculous statement he had ever heard.

"Isn't it obvious?" Draco pointed out. "She's pulling rank. Just let her have her little moment. It's not like he's going anywhere."

"No," Harry agreed cautiously. "I suppose he's not."

Hermione watched Harry and Draco's interaction in silence. A disagreement that did not come to blows. Quite the opposite, it ended with a clam, albeit reluctant, agreement. How remarkably odd. Then again, everything was odd. Why should Harry and Draco be any different?

"Are you sure?" Harry asked Hermione.

"I'll be fine, Harry," Hermione assured.

"All right," Harry said as he and Draco started off down the hall. "We'll be back in a bit then. Anything happens, we'll be right down the hall."

Draco turned back and smirked at Hermione. "Don't go and do anything stupid. I hardly doubt it would be your head on the line."

The two continued down the hall, whispering to each other as they turned the corner, their footsteps fading in the distance.

Define stupid, Hermione thought as she turned her attention to the storage room door. She slowly walked over and placed her hand on the ornate iron doorknob, willing herself to go through. After a moment's hesitation, she opened the door and entered the cold darkness beyond.

Inside, the area was dark and uninviting. The walls of stone were lined with various containers. Several candles on dusty shelves cast a dim light across the damp confined space. In the center of the room, a cell of iron bars was built into the stone. Within the cell, Hermione saw the shadowy outline of a man kneeling, his hands and feet shackled, his head bent forward, his dark hair hanging over the hallowed features of his face.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," the man said without looking up.

The words cut through Hermione, tearing at her as years of tethered and buried emotions swelled from within her. She promised herself she would not give in. She promised herself that it was in the past. It was foolish for her to believe it possible … Possible to forget everything that had happened … Possible to forget him.

"Killian …" she whispered, her voice cracking as she forced back her flooding emotions with every ounce of constitution she could summon. "What have you done?"

. . .

Chapter Two should be up shortly ... I hope. Again, if you would like to weigh in on whether or not this story should include, as canon, the epilogue of Hermione and Ron having children or simply ignore that and go with them not having children, feel free to leave your thoughts in a review.