I receive another owl less than five minutes later. Apparently Hermione had received a similar letter from Professor McGonagall, wanting to teach her how to take over teaching Transfiguration and being head of Gryffindor House.

"This is so exciting! We need to talk to Mr. Robards first thing tomorrow morning!"

So we do. I had thought he would be upset, but he's actually happy for us. He thinks having Aurors at Hogwarts is a good idea, in the event that something bad happens in the future. Our extensive training will come in handy for dealing with student problems as well.

"One condition," Robards says before we join the others. "You stay here until we apprehend the last two Death Eaters. Then you can go back to Hogwarts."

"Deal," we say together.

So we send affirmative replies to Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall and get to work. The last two Death Eaters have eluded capture before and are apparently very dangerous. We also need to turn the hideout where Lucius was found inside out and find the Dark artifacts. I have a bad feeling they aren't there.

Robards splits us up. Hermione, Belby, and I are sent back to the hideout to look for the artifacts and everyone else is split into two teams to find the Death Eaters. We tear the house apart, but there's nothing here. We tear the grounds apart, looking for any disturbed dirt, rocks out of place, hollow trees, etc., but to no avail.

The others have better luck. The Death Eaters are right where they were supposed to be. Unfortunately, they put up a fight, wounding Deverill and Carter. Nothing serious, though, thankfully.

Robards shakes our hands before we leave. "Good luck. We will probably still consult you about the Dark artifacts."

"Of course," Hermione replies. "We'll help however we can."

We go out to dinner with Harry, Ginny, Ron, Lavender, George, Angelina, and Fred to celebrate our new positions. The twins toast us and our success, so we toast their success. They're actually looking into opening a new location for their shop because they're doing so well. Soon, everyone is toasting everyone else's success and getting more and more ridiculous. I can't stop laughing.

"Ready for our future?" Hermione asks me before she leaves with Fred, reaching out a hand.

I smile, reaching out and holding on tightly. "Yes. I've always wanted this."

She smiles too. "Me too."

I want to say, "I've always wanted this with you," but there's no way I'm taking the possibility of getting rejected right before we go back to Hogwarts together. I don't want to make things awkward.

It's a little weird going back to Hogwarts, especially because there are no students here yet. It also doesn't help that the last time I saw the castle, it was covered with dead bodies, broken furniture, and blood.

"Everything is back to normal," Hermione says softly, looking around. Then she grins, raising an arm. "Hello, Sir Nicholas!"

"Hermione Granger!" He tips his hat to her. "I hear you're going to train to be a professor." He nods to me as well. "And you too, Neville Longbottom."

"Yes they are," Professor McGonagall says, coming down the stairs. "Come up to my office. I fill you in on everything you need to know."

She's still in her old office. After four years...

"I'll move to the headmaster's office when I'm no longer teaching Transfiguration," she says, smiling slightly. "Please sit down."

The meeting is long, but informative. There are no changes to the teaching staff-a miracle, that is-and enrollment in the school has stayed the same, despite all the craziness from four years ago. There are more Halfbloods and Muggleborns this year than in years past, so she's hoping the anti-Muggle nonsense will finally be wiped out. Me too.

We're going to assist with all of Professor McGonagall's and Professor Sprout's classes, including learning how to make lesson plans, keep the class engaged in learning, and grade homework. We're also going to learn when it's appropriate to award and dock points, when to give detentions, and how to counsel students who are having problems.

The routine hasn't changed: breakfast at 7:30am; classes start at 9am; four class periods before lunch, two after; then dinner and (expected to be) studying for the evening until it's time to be in the common rooms. I wonder if we'll have any Fred and George Weasleys this year. That could make things interesting.

Hermione has a few questions for Professor McGonagall, of course, then we split up. Hermione stays to discuss the Transfiguration curriculum; I go to find Professor Sprout to discuss Herbology. She's in one of the greenhouses, just where I expected her to be.

"Neville, hello!" she says, pushing her hat back and leaving a smear of dirt on her forehead. "I'm so glad you're here."

"I'm glad to be here," I reply, then gesture to the pot in front of her. "Are those mandrakes?"

"Yes. I expect you brought earmuffs with you?"

I nod. "And my dragon-hide gloves and all my books."

She beams. "Good. Let me finish here and I'll give you the tour of all the new plants we have this year. Go to greenhouse seven."

"Got it."

Greenhouse seven. That's where some of the most dangerous plants are, including Devil's Snare, Venomous Tentacula, and Snargaluff pods. I walk in, breathing deeply. I always loved the smell of the greenhouses, something many of my friends thought was insane. "It smells like dragon dung!" Ron often said.

Of course it smells like dragon dung. It's fertilizer. My thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of Professor Sprout. We spend the rest of the afternoon caring for various plants and going over the schedule for the winter term. She doesn't just want me to watch; she expects me to help, which is fine with me.

Hermione and I get reacquainted with all our old professors during dinner. They all tell us to call them by the first names, but I can't do it. Hermione can't either. They're really excited that we're back.

I can't believe this is really happening.

We spend the next couple of weeks helping everyone get the castle ready for the upcoming term, as well as helping Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout make final changes to their courses. I haven't seen Hermione this excited since Professor McGonagall told her she was the best student she's ever had. Sure we both liked our Auror jobs, but Hogwarts is where our hearts are.

Speaking of Aurors, we had had a letter from Robards this morning. He said they've recovered the Hand of Glory, one of the cursed books, and the music box that puts the listener to sleep. The other cursed books, the blood quill, the silver biting box, and the purple robes are still missing. I don't know how they're going to find the books and quill. They could be anywhere.

"There they are!" Hermione says, pointing out the window.

I can see the lanterns on the Black Lake and the carriages pulled by thestrals. I'm not bothered by being able to see the thestrals anymore; even Hermione can see them now because of the war. She had called them "scary and beautiful at the same time."

We head down to the Start-of-Term Feast, taking seats between Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick. I look at the line of First Years waiting to be Sorted, remembering how terrified I was back then. Hermione nudges me, nodding towards a girl with pale hair pinned back by a giant sunflower and her wand tucked behind her ear. "We have a new Luna."

I remember how badly people treated Luna for being different, even stealing her shoes at times. "I hope people are nice to her."

"Me too."

Before I can say anything else, Professor McGonagall taps her glass for quiet. It's time for the Sorting to begin. I hear someone booing when the first person is Sorted into Slytherin, something that Professor McGonagall puts a stop to immediately. I see several older students shaking their heads, looking annoyed. I don't look to my right, but I know Hermione is probably doing the same thing. Some things never change.

Professor McGonagall decides to save her speech for after the feast, something I'm grateful for. I'm starving. I notice students pointing at Hermione and me and whispering while we're eating, so I have a feeling some of them recognize us. When Professor McGonagall announces is as new staff, we get a lot of cheers. My face goes red and I don't even have to look at Hermione to know hers does too.

The Prefects lead everyone to their common rooms after the feast and I'm able to hear snippets of conversation. "That's Neville Longbottom! He killed You-Know-Who's snake during the war!"

"Did you see Hermione Granger? She saved Harry Potter! More than once!"

The second one makes me laugh. Harry had said during one of his interviews that without Hermione, he would have been dead back in his First Year. He talked about all the times she saved his life.

"They're friends with Harry Potter!"

"Look how pretty her hair is. I wish my hair curled like that."

"He's hot! I can't wait until Herbology!"

My face is burning after that last one and Hermione is laughing so hard she's holding her side. "I didn't think it was that funny," I say.

"Sorry," she says, gasping. "Just...the look...on your face...it was funny."

I roll my eyes as we head to our rooms. I overhear a few guys talking about how hot she is as well, which she's either ignoring or completely missing. I feel my face heating up again. I don't like the way they're talking. She's a human being, not an object.

"It's fine," she says quietly.

I guess she did hear them. "No, it's not. They shouldn't be talking like that."

A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "I thought I was supposed to be protective of you."

Images of Potions and the DADA Unforgivable Curses classes flash through my mind. "Now it's my turn."

I'm up far before my alarm the next morning, nervous about my first day. Even though I'm not a professor yet, I'm still expected to teach. Hermione has a Transfiguration book with her at breakfast, preparing for her first class. She's mumbling something about body weight, concentration, wand power, viciousness, and a fifth unknown variable: the Transfiguration formula. I cringe. That was my worst class after Potions.

My first class is Second Years and their first challenge is mandrakes. Professor Sprout tells everyone to make sure their earmuffs are on tightly, but one student still passes out. I can't even get upset with him because I had done the same thing my second year.

I enjoy teaching the First, Sixth and Seventh Year students most. The First Years are so full of wonder and the Sixth and Seventh Years are serious about the subject. When Hermione and I compare notes at dinner, she feels the same way.

"You should have seen their faces when the First Years walked in and saw a cat sitting on the desk," she says. "And then when she jumped off the desk and became human again..." She smiles at the memory. "Brilliant."

She did that to us during our First Year too. I guess it's tradition. Who knew Minerva McGonagall had a sense of humor.

We go to the library to relax before bed. I have a feeling this is going to be the last free night in a long time.

"Professor Lupin would have been hiding out in his office tonight," Hermione says quietly after a few moments silence. Her eyes are fixed on the full moon hanging outside the window. "And then tomorrow in class he would be pale, but strangely relieved."

I stay silent. Hermione's had a few nights like this over the years, raw pain over the losses from the war. She had so much respect for Lupin, almost equaling her respect for Professor McGonagall. Harry and I had talked about it once and agreed that if she hasn't had Malfoy and me to lean on during the last year at Hogwarts, she wouldn't have made it. Madam Pomfrey had told me the same thing: that if Hermione hadn't stopped having nightmares, the stress from that and her leftover war injuries would have killed her. I hadn't realized how dire the situation was.

"I think the worst part about my parents is that I never got to see their bodies. I never got that closure because it was too late for me to go to the funeral." Her voice is barely above a whisper, so I know she's trying not to cry. "I sometimes wonder if I made the right decision to modify their memories."

"If you hadn't, the Death Eaters would have tortured them either to insanity or death," I reply. "Sometimes I wonder if my parents would have been better off dying. I hate going to St. Mungo's and seeing them like that."

She doesn't give me the usual line of how my parents are strong and heroic, which I appreciate. She just takes my hand and lets me talk.

"They have no idea who I am. They don't understand that I'm their son or what happened to them. My mum gives me a bloody gum wrapper as a gift every time she sees me because she has no idea what's going on around her!"

Her hand is cool as she cups my cheek, wiping away tears I didn't know I was crying. "That's one of the reasons we have each other. Because we're going to try our hardest to stay in each other's lives, no matter what."

I lean forward, burying my head in Hermione's chest and pulling her as close as I can. She strokes my hair, not saying a word. When I pull back, I hurriedly pull my handkerchief out and apologize.

She shakes her head. "It's good to get it out. I-I've been thinking too much about the war lately. I guess being back here triggered it."

"We lost so many good people." I think of Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, even Colin Creevey. "But good triumphed over evil."

"'But good triumphed over evil,'" Hermione repeats, an odd look on her face. "Sure, Voldemort was a symbol of evil and Harry was good, but I don't think everyone else was so black and white. Look how many people became Death Eaters that last year because they were scared and wanted protection. Look at Draco even. He was 'evil,' according to everyone who was on the other end of his bullying and when he became a Death Eater, but he changed sides. He turned things around."

She's right. "Getting really introspective tonight," I tease gently, trying to lighten both our moods.

She laughs, running her hand through her curls. "It's late. Plus the full moon affects the tides, which includes the water in our bodies."

I smile, taking in her sleepy eyes and slightly disheveled hair. Those eyes, which I had looked into a thousand times and seen so many emotions: happiness, sadness, exhaustion, annoyance, anger, excitement, anxiety, fear. Rarely fear, though. She was a true Gryffindor: courageous and strong of will. She had to be after all; she was Harry Potter's best friend.

Hermione reaches over and squeezes my hand. "I'm glad you're the one here with me."

"Not Ron?" It's out before I can stop it.

She makes a face. "He lost his chance when he shacked up with Lavender while we were dating the summer after the war." Then she smiles. "I thought the entire Weasley family was going to hex him into the next century."

"You're too good for him. You always have been."

She squeezes my hand again, making my stomach churn. "You're so sweet. But he's not the man I want to be with anyway."

Now my heart is pounding too. "Who is?"

That odd smile is back. "I'm not ready to reveal that information at this time."

Is it me? I can't get the words out; it's like there's a block in my throat. So I give up. I know she'll tell me eventually. She always does.

I'm right about that being our last free night. We're so busy during September and October that I don't get a chance to breathe until Halloween. I still can't believe Ron cheated on Hermione. Had I known, I would have hexed him myself. She said that Fred, George, and Ginny had come up with creative ways to torture Ron and their mother hadn't stopped them. Hermione was already part of the family, but Mrs. Weasley wanted her to be an official part. Ron ruined that by marrying Lavender.

I look out the windows of the greenhouse while we wait for the next class. It's amazing how much you can see from here. The Gryffindor Quidditch team is practicing on the pitch. They actually look pretty good, which is surprising given how bad the tryouts looked. Some of the First Years in Flying class were better than they were.

I'm happy when classes are over and I can go to the Halloween feast. It's probably my favorite holiday of the year at Hogwarts because it's fun seeing the Muggleborn students dressed up in costume. The Great Hall looks great: giant pumpkins, flocks of bats flying around near the ceiling, and all kinds of pumpkin-flavored treats.

I'm devouring pumpkin-flavored cake when Hermione starts laughing. "It sounds mad, but I'm half expecting Quirrell to come running into the Hall screaming about a troll in the dungeon."

"That was how you, Ron, and Harry became friends, wasn't it?" I try to forget our first year. It was probably my worst one.

She nods. "The troll ended up in the girls' bathroom and they saved me. Then I lied to get them out of detention."

"That seems like so long ago."

"I think that's because so many things happened every year. We had the Sorcerer's Stone first year, the Chamber of Secrets the second year, Sirius Black the third year..."

"The Triwizard Tournament, the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, Professor Dumbledore's death..." I supply.

"And, of course, the war."

"We were busy."

"We still are."

I have to agree with that. I'm happy when Qudditch season finally starts in November so I can focus on something besides teaching. Hufflepuff and Gryffindor are the best two teams this year, which doesn't surprise me since those are Hermione's and my Houses. For the first time, I'm glad she isn't overcompetitive about Qudditch, though she does enjoy it more than she used to.

Then, during the second week of December, Professor McGonagall asks Hermione and me to take all the names of the students who are staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays. There are more than I expected, about 20. Hermione plans to stay on for the holiday so other professors can go home to their families, so I write Gran and tell her I'm staying as well. That's fine with her; apparently she's traveling right now.

Everyone leaves the week before Christmas and I head into Hogsmeade to see if I can find a gift for Hermione. I go to Fred and George's shop first to see if they can give me any ideas. Fred especially knows her really well. But this year, they aren't even sure what to give her.

"Usually you can give her something practical and school-related like parchment or quills or ink, but she doesn't need that stuff this year," George says.

"And she's not a perfume or makeup or anything girly like that person either," Fred adds. He snaps his fingers. "Though we could give her some of our new shampoo and conditioner. The kind for untamable hair? She likes that."

"Perfect," George says, high-fiving him.

Well that's great for them, but that doesn't help me. I wander around Hogsmeade forever, racking my brain. Then I find a necklace with a red crystal flower on a gold chain, almost identical to the necklace Hermione had worn at Hogwarts. That had been one of the things she had called herself stupid for being upset about losing during the war. So I buy it. It's a little expensive, but completely worth it. I hope she likes it.

"Happy Christmas, Neville," Hermione says when I take the seat next to her at the Christmas feast. This is the only feast we ever have at lunch time and also the only one where the staff who are left join the students at their tables.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," I say, smiling at her.

Professor McGonagall, one of the few other staff members there, wishes everyone a Happy Christmas and food appears in front of us. My mouth waters at the platters and tureens of roast turkey, potatoes, chipolatas, buttered peas, gravy, and cranberry sauce. I fill my plate quickly.

The students near us are absorbed in conversations about Quidditch, which I get pulled into. The girl next to Hermione, a First Year Muggleborn, talks with her about the Muggle world and how different it is being in the Wizarding world. Hermione takes a liking to her very quickly.

After a dessert of flaming Christmas pudding, Hermione and I go to the library, as usual, to exchange gifts. I open hers first: a box of Chocolate Frogs and a new copy of Winogrand's Wondrous Water Plants.

"I know you were upset about losing the book during the war, so I got you another one," she says slightly anxiously. "I hope you like it."

"It's perfect," I reply. "Thank you so much."

I'm sweating as she opens her gifts. She smiles at the box of her favorite chocolate from Honeyduke's before looking curiously at the small jewelry box. She gasps when she lifts the lid. "Neville! It's gorgeous!"

"We have a theme going," I manage. "Giving each other items we lost during the war."

"I can't believe you remembered!" She hugs me tightly, her body pressed against mine. "Thank you!"

My body reacts to her closeness and my face flushes instantly. I really need to learn to not blush. My fingers tremble as I hook the necklace around her neck and I hear her sharp intake of breath when my fingers brush her skin. She shivers slightly.

"You okay?" I ask, surprised.

"Just a bit chilly in here," she replies, smoothing the necklace with her hand. "This is my favorite gift."

"I'm glad you like it."

Our eyes meet and we both stop for a moment, not moving, like one of those cheesy romance stories Lavender and Parvati like to read. If this was a cheesy romance story, I would lean in and kiss her and tell her I love her. And she would kiss me back and tell me she loves me too and we would go to bed together.

But this isn't a cheesy romance story. We look away, tell each other Happy Christmas one more time, and go to our own beds.