Author's Note: Two more chapters left after this!

Previously:

"Aren't you a luscious treat?" came a very familiar voice. "Feel free to hit me with your fairy dust any time you want to, baby. I do love to fly."

Hermione turned around slowly and looked up into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen with a smirk. Apparently he felt no need to hide his identity.

"Hello, Theo."

Theo's eyebrows rose up in surprise before a devilish smirk stole his features. "Well, it would appear we've met before then. What's your name, honey?" he asked silkily as he moved closer towards her.

Hermione took a half-step back as she fought against the impulse to roll her eyes. In one smooth motion she took off the mask, knowing that in doing so her glamoured features would return to normal. The mask was a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes item and another very impressive bit of magic. Once the mask was placed on, it would recognise any other magical changes in the person—colour-changed hair for instance—and bond with it, so that when the mask was taken off, it took the changes with it. Replacing the mask had the same effect, backwards. Until spelled otherwise, every time Hermione would put the mask back on, her hair would return to platinum blonde and her eyes to ice-blue. She, however, felt she was done for the night with thinking she saw Draco Malfoy at the corner of her vision every ten seconds.

She watched as his eyes widened in surprise for a brief second before his signature charming smile formed on his face.

"Hermione," he said cordially.

Hermione looked deep into his eyes, and with it, discovered a few things she'd never noticed before. One was that is smile did not reach his eyes; two, there was no warmth in his electric blue gaze; and three, she found that when she approached him as she had Cormac in the past, with the resolution that she would not be having the pants charmed off of her no matter how hard he tried, she wasn't. He had very little effect on her. She had only thought he had, had only let herself get swept up.

The truth shall set you free.

"I see you're back from…wherever it is you went off to."

"Yes, it was a good trip, but I'm glad to be back where I belong. So sorry I didn't owl you to tell you I'd returned. Been busy, you know."

Hermione nodded once. "It's quite all right, I assure you."

Theo hmm'd before looking up and down at her, stopping at the top of her head. "You know, I'm shocked that you'd even consent to having your hair that colour, if even for the night. Far too Malfoy-like for my taste."

"Oh, I don't know," she said as she fingered her brown curls. "I find myself rather liking that particular hair colour."

"Oh? I suppose you'll be telling me you like the man attached as well then, eh?" he said jokingly, clearly expecting her to laugh alongside him.

She didn't. "Well, I don't see why not."

"Is that so?" he asked slowly with a bemused smile. "Has he changed that much since we last saw him? I'd rather like to meet this new Malfoy that you've become so suddenly fond of."

"Oh, no," she said, halting his assumptions. "He hasn't changed at all. I just know him a little more now."

"Do you? Pray tell, how did this come about?"

"Oh, I happened to meet him while I was on holiday visiting an old friend. We spent some time together."

It had passed so fleetingly, Hermione almost missed it: shock and comprehension. He had lost her and he knew it. Theo knew from then on that she would hold no importance to him or what he said…yet, he still pressed onward—perhaps to try and bring her back…to charm her back into his good graces.

"I see. I wonder then how you managed to not scream in frustration from being forced to remain in his presence for a significant duration of time." He laughed as he signaled the bartender for a drink.

"Quite the opposite, actually. I found that the more time I spent in his presence the more I got to know him…and subsequently the more his true nature revealed itself, thus changing my opinion. The same, I find, happened with Pansy Parkinson. You remember her from school, don't you?"

Theo sputtered in his drink. "Pansy?"

"Yes, Pansy. You were in the same house, do you not remember her?"

"Oh, no. I remember her quite well. You were saying your opinion of her is favourable as well?"

"Oh, yes. Very much. She and Harry are actually quite the item, and I must confess I am so glad."

"Are you?"

"Yes. I am very glad that she has finally been able to find a nice, decent man who will treat her right."

If there had ever been a moment in which she'd questioned the truth of the contents in Malfoy's letter, her doubts would have disappeared right then and there. Theo's gaze, which had previously been lazily perusing the dance floor, quickly darted towards her and Hermione gave him a sweet, innocent smile that she knew did not fool him.

"Ah. Well, it's been nice chatting with you, Hermione, but I've just seen an old friend who I absolutely must say hello to. Have a good night," he bid before downing the rest of his drink and walking away.

Hermione turned towards the bar with a wicked smile. That was fun. And now, she would head home.

o-o-o

November 3, 2003

Dear Harry,

I hope you're doing well and I really hope you've made contact with Pansy. I know that sounds pushy, but I just want to see you happy. And I know she made you happy.

Everything's been fine here. Corin is growing at an alarmingly rapid speed. One day he's a cute little newborn, the next day he can't fit the 0-3 months golden snitch onesies that I swear I just bought him. Ron is vying on him walking within the next few weeks while Katie is just happy he's managed to hold his own head up now. They are the most doting parents I've ever seen, and I've never seen Ron smile so much. It's funny—who'd have thought that of the three of us, he would be the first to have kids? I suppose that's what happens when you've got your life together.

Work is fine. Bletchley keeps giving me more and more responsibility, hinting at a possible promotion. I think he's testing me—seeing if I can do it. And I'll be damned if I fail.

Sorry this letter's so short, but honestly not much has been happening lately. I am including a couple of photos of Corin though—cute as a button.

Hope you're safe and well.

Love,

Hermione

o-o-o

She was running late. Again.

Five minutes. She had five minutes to pop into the grocery and grab the roasted garlic hummus and organic pita bread she'd promised to bring to Ginny's for her impromptu girl's night.

Hermione sighed. She really should have grabbed it the night before after she'd gotten off work, but a full day of proofing Bletchley's memos and running them back and forth from the printer had left her exhausted—she was just glad the memos were finally being approved and printed. Her fight to obtain a humane way of harvesting dragon's blood without slaughtering the beasts was finally in the works. She'd owled Charlie back and forth all day to make sure the notices were being placed accordingly and would be enforce—oh, shoot. She'd forgotten to owl Hagrid with the update on Norberta… oh, well. She'd just have to do it first thing tomorrow morning.

Running through the aisles in the grocer's towards the deli at the opposite end, she whipped around a corner and ran smack dab into something soft and sturdy.

"For the love of…" she admonished loudly to herself as she regained her bearings. "I'm so sorry, sir. You wouldn't believe how many—Fitz?"

"Hermione!"

"Oh, my goodness!" she stated excitedly with a smile as she threw her arms around him. A strange thing to do to a man you'd only met once, but she didn't give it another thought.

He hadn't either as he chuckled and hugged her in return.

"How are you? What are you doing here?"

"I've been very well, thank you. I'm here to grab supplies for dinner tonight. Jane—wherever she is—has promised to cook up a storm. I believe she's poking somewhere around fruits and vegetables with…actually, would you like to meet her?"

"Absolutely," Hermione said as she reached around Fitz and grabbed a package of the roasted garlic hummus from a cool shelf beside him and the organic pita bread above his head, tossing both in her basket. "But I'm afraid it can't be a long visit. I'm running dreadfully behind schedule for a girls night."

"Ahh, well I promise to not keep the women waiting for long."

She followed him through the store to the other side where the fruits and vegetables were and, with a quick scan of her surroundings, saw three people. The first was an elderly woman in a pink sweater and a stern face glaring at a bushel of green apples, poking each one experimentally, and Hermione made a wild guess that that was not Fitz's wife. The second was a tall, broad-shouldered man with jet-black hair in a very fitted bright purple shirt closely inspecting some asparagus. Definitely not Fitz's type, Hermione thought with a giggle. And the third was a beautiful and graceful woman with long, auburn hair and intense green eyes that warmed considerably when she looked up and spotted Fitz and herself.

"Hi, honey. I'm just grabbing a couple of artichokes for the appetizer—I know how much you love them."

"Bless you," Fitz replied as he snaked a hand around his wife and kissed her on the forehead, to which she grinned. "Love, I want you to meet Hermione Granger, the woman I met while having breakfast with Draco and the McLaggens in Seattle. Hermione, this gorgeous woman is my wife, Jane Fitzhugh."

Jane playfully slapped her husband on the stomach with a smile before turning her attention towards Hermione. "I'm so glad to have met you," she said in a voice so kind that Hermione knew the woman could give Mrs. Weasley a run for her money. "William's told me all about you—and Draco, of course."

Hermione forced a smile on her face, suddenly thrown aback by the heavy weight she suddenly felt in the center of her chest at the mention of Malfoy. Since the morning in her park when she'd stood by the stream and promised herself to think of him no longer, she'd actually been doing fairly well—only thinking of him in great detail when it was thrust upon her, like meeting Theo at the costume party. Other than that, however, she'd managed to push aside thoughts of him before they overwhelmed her and the feelings of panic and sadness engulfed her insides.

Right now, though, those feelings were bubbling under the surface and she tried to push them away once more.

"Well, I hope they were all good things. I'm so happy to have finally met you as well. Fitz has told me some wonderful things about you."

"Good to know he's been bragging about me," Jane said playfully with an easy grin.

Already, Hermione wanted this couple more in her life. "Absolutely. I know only the most amazing of women could have snapped this one up," she said with a tilt of her head towards Fitz.

Jane grinned as she turned towards her husband. "You're right, honey. I do like her."

Hermione laughed. "I wish I could stay longer," she said with an apologetic smile, "but I'm afraid I'm terribly late and my friend Ginny will roast me alive if I don't arrive with this hummus soon."

"Of course," Fitz said with a nod of his head before his eyes scanned the area—in an odd, eager way, Hermione thought.

But then, Jane grabbed her hand in her cool, soft ones and shook them as smiled warmly. "I'd love it if we could keep in contact."

"Of course," Hermione said as she tried to grab her hand back but found Jane's grip stronger than she'd thought. A sudden feeling of paranoia rushed over her and her senses awakened—something she'd rarely felt since battle.

She looked up in alarm at Jane before Fitz's enthusiastic, "Ah!" startled her and she looked up at him, seeing that his gaze was focused past her shoulder. "Draco! Over here!"

Hermione's eyes widened suddenly and her breathing quickened as she felt the blood rush into her ears. What? She whipped around, pulling her hand out of Jane's, and saw, thirty paces away, a very surprised looking Draco Malfoy holding a package of chicken breast in one hand and a block of parmesan cheese in the other.

They stared at each other for seven beats of her rioting heart and Hermione had to fight the urge to just Disapparate on the spot, leaving the store behind and find safety in the quiet haven of her flat. She remembered the basket of roasted garlic hummus and organic pita bread hanging on her arm, however, and—being one very against the nature of shoplifting—stood rooted to the spot as she watched him take a deep breath and slowly start walking towards her.

"Malfoy," she breathed softly when he'd stopped five paces away from her. The intensity in his gaze was setting her on edge and she became very aware of her surroundings. The old woman in the pink sweater was shuffling past, harrumphing loudly when Malfoy took a second too long to stand aside and out of the way, his gaze still fixed on her.

"Granger," he said in a low voice, passing off the items in his hand to Jane who tossed them in the shopping basket, grabbed Fitz's arm, and walked away quickly.

Smooth, Hermione thought, a bit impressed. Very smooth.

She took a deep breath, mentally trying to shake the tenseness out of her system, but failing horrendously. She felt horribly awkward—and judging by Malfoy's rigid posture, he was as well. Details of his letter, and of the look in his eyes during his confession before that, kept running through her mind and she once again had to remind herself just how much she was against shoplifting. She took another deep breath and reminded herself that she was sorted into Gryffindor for a reason.

She felt only marginally better at the nervous way he was rubbing his thumbs against his fingers—he was nervous too.

"I… What are you doing here?" she asked, unable to think of something wittier to say.

Smooth, she thought sarcastically, thoroughly unimpressed. Very smooth.

"I'm helping William and Jane shop for groceries. I'm joining them and their daughter for dinner tonight."

"Ah," she said, her breathing unsteady.

They spoke at the same time. Her, "Where is she?" mingling with his, "What are you doing here?"

"She's with Jane's sister at the moment. We'll be picking her up after we leave here."

She hummed. "I…umm…I'm about to go meet some friends," she said awkwardly before lifting her basket. "Supplies."

He looked down at her basket and an eyebrow rose. "That's actually quite good."

"It's my favourite."

He nodded before swallowing thickly. "It goes well with crackers, too."

She averted her eyes, unable to take the intensity anymore and stared hardly at the romaine lettuce to her right. "I'll be sure and try that sometime."

"Do."

Something in his tone had her looking up at him and she was unable to tear her eyes away. She saw…longing. And that scared her more than anything in the world…because it mirrored her own confused feelings. "I have to go," she blurted. "Ginny's going to have my head for how late I am." She pulled out her wand and with a quick swish, 7:23 pm flashed in the air before disappearing in light green wisps of smoke. "Oh, god. She's actually going to slaughter me."

"I…yes. I'm sorry for keeping you so long."

"Oh, no. Don't apologise. How could you know?" she said with a small, embarrassed laugh before swallowing thickly.

For the rest of the night, she would go over and over in her head her next move, trying to figure out what possessed her to do it, and with no luck.

She stepped towards him. "I…umm…well, good night, Malfoy. Have a good dinner," she said as she leaned up on her toes, braced her hands against his arms, and kissed him lightly on the cheek before shuffling away quickly.

Run. Run quickly. Go. Go. Go.

Before she turned the corner, she submitted to her basest urge and glanced behind her quickly, finding Malfoy standing in the same spot she'd left him in—his posture rigid as ever—but with his right hand resting against his cheek.

o-o-o

In. Out. In. Out.

Hermione stood in the bathroom of Ginny's flat, her hands braced on the counter in front of her over the sink. She was forcing herself to take deep, calming breath as her mind went nuts over what happened in the fruits and vegetables section of the grocer's. She could hear the telly blaring and the occasional laughter of the girls from the living room and tears suddenly clouded her vision.

Why couldn't she be that happy and carefree? What had she done to deserve this?

Oh, right. Just pushed away and insulted a man who had professed his love for her—only to find later that she'd judged him very harshly far too soon. He was actually a decent guy. She wasn't sure of how it happened, but he was.

Hermione, since reading the letter, had tried to decipher how she'd known he was telling the truth—having just believed him from the second she'd finished it—and found no sturdier answer than the feeling at the bottom of her gut. She just knew.

The look of realization in Theo's eyes at the party had been assurance, sure, but not really needed. She'd already known.

Another fit of giggles was heard from the living room and Hermione clutched the counter harder. It wasn't supposed to end up like this. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. She was supposed to meet a man and know from the second their eyes met that he was the one for her. They were supposed to have a beautiful, whirlwind courtship as he swept her off her feet before kneeling down on one knee and asking her to be his for the rest of their lives.

This weight in the center of her chest, the dull pain in her heart, wasn't supposed to be there. She wasn't supposed to feel this sorrow lurking in the shadows all the time—present but not heartbreaking. How can your heart break over something you'd never had? Because that was the truth of it. She'd never had him. She'd never allowed herself the chance to have him. He had skated by under her nose and she'd been too caught up in her own stupidity to take a closer look. And now he was gone. He'd never want her again.

Hell, he'd probably already met a gorgeous, intelligent, wonderful woman with no faults who had seen him immediately for what he was and had snatched her up quickly—not letting another get away so easily.

She'd missed her chance.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. She wasn't supposed to have fallen for him.

She could still feel the softness of his cheek against her lips and hear his small intake of breath—his warm, woodsy scent surrounding her…

Hermione sighed, wiped the last of her tears away and stepped back out of the bathroom and towards the laughter.

o-o-o

November 12, 2003

Dear Hermione,

Thanks for your letter. I'm doing okay—keeping busy. No contact as of yet, but keep hope, right?

I can't believe how big Corin has gotten. I swear, it seems like just days ago that I was holding his tiny, squirmy body—the bald, wrinkly little thing—and now he looks like a proper Weasley with a full head of red hair. Looks just like Ron.

A promotion sounds just about right. Bletchley's decent—he won't let you wait around too long.

I'm sure you've already eaten half the box so I don't need to tell you, but I'm including a box of truffles from this little shop I found wandering around. I've sent a box to Ron and Ginny as well, so there's no need to share.

Hope you're doing well, Hermione. Keep your chin up, yeah?

Love,

Harry

o-o-o

"Hello, dear!" Mrs. Weasley said as she wiped her hands on her apron and engulfed Hermione in a warm, motherly hug.

Hermione wrapped her arms around the woman in turn, appreciating the comfort she bestowed and already feeling better than she had ten seconds ago. "Hello, Molly."

"Get here okay?" Mrs. Weasley asked upon releasing her.

Hermione nodded.

"Good week?"

Another nod.

"Hungry?"

Hermione grinned, nodding emphatically.

"Good. It'll be ready soon, dear. Go wait in the living room with everyone else; I'll call everybody soon."

"Button's here?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Yes, probably still being held hostage by Arthur. He'd been gnawing on his finger earlier and Arthur took it as a sign of affection and wouldn't let him go."

Hermione laughed as she walked through the house towards the living room where she found everyone. Ron and Katie were sitting on the couch, his arm wrapped around her and her head resting on his shoulder, at one side of the room looking appropriately exhausted and deliriously happy as new parents. Ginny was leaning towards Corin, making silly faces at him to get him to laugh, who, as promised, was currently bouncing up and down on Arthur's leg. Angelina was sitting on the other side of Arthur, playing with Corin's hair, and George next to her, holding her hand and tickling Corin from behind.

Hermione grinned. Corin was going to be the most spoiled baby known to mankind. She went to kiss him on the cheek before sitting down beside Ginny. "Hi, button!" she said to his smiling face.

Corin, or button, as she, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley had started calling him, smiled wider and held out his hands towards her. She leaned over Ginny and attacked him with kisses as he giggled. "My god, Ron. It's only been a week since I saw him last, but he's gotten so big!" she said, addressing the baby's father behind her.

She heard his chuckles. "That's what mum said too, and she just saw him yesterday."

"All right, you lot. Food's up!" the woman in question said as she popped her head in the living room for a quick second before disappearing again.

"How's work been?" Hermione asked George after they'd all been seated.

Mr. Weasley had reluctantly let Corin go and the happy baby was now sitting with his grandma, accepting her kisses while tugging on her hair.

"It's been great. Thanks for asking."

"'Cept for yesterday."

George rolled his eyes. "When are you going to let that go? It's a good thing he's there."

"I just don't see why we have to have meetings with the git!"

"Ron!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, Katie, and Hermione all at once.

"Sorry," he muttered sheepishly with a quick glance towards his son. "I'm just saying I think it's unnecessary."

"He's not going to just give us the money and let us run wild. It isn't out of the ordinary that he would want to know our progress. Any other company head would do the same."

"Who are we talking about?" Ginny asked.

"Malfoy," George replied.

Hermione paused with her juice halfway to her mouth and her eyes widened in surprise. With a quick glance around she relaxed and took a sip—nobody had noticed.

"We've been doing great on our own, but since we wanted to branch out and open a couple of shops in other locations, we needed investors. But with him on board, turns out we only needed one."

"We could have kept looking you know. We didn't have to take money from the slimy...guy."

George groaned. "And I keep saying you need to let that go."

"Yeah, he isn't the same person he once was," Ginny added in.

Hermione, not trusting herself to speak a word, looked over at Ginny. Since when did she approve of the blond Slytherin? Hermione racked her mind for all the knowledge concerning Malfoy she'd come by in the last few years, thinking for the first time that maybe the things she'd learned in the letter were less private than she'd assumed. Maybe she'd been the only person unaware of his nature. Then she remembered that Ginny had had no prior knowledge about Theo or Pansy, or else she would have brought it up when Hermione had started dating him, or Harry started dating Pansy. If not that, then what could it be?

"Considering his past and his family, I was very pleasantly surprised to find him a decent young man," Mr. Weasley chimed in as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Oh, so now everyone is suddenly his biggest fan?" Ron asked, looking at everyone in exasperation.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, having thought the same thing. Apparently she and Ron were the only ones out of the loop when it came to Draco Malfoy. Then she paused, a memory forcing itself to the front of her brain.

Honestly, the only person from my childhood that I'd kept in touch with was Pansy—I guess I was taking her word for it. She always spoke so highly of him. But then again, she always did. I just—with what he's done, this doesn't make sense.

After letting Millie in on what Fitz had told her at breakfast that day in Seattle, she hadn't just been shocked, but incredibly confused.

…what he's done…

She also recalled Millie mentioning something else about him. Something positive. Hermione scanned her brain...efforts. Efforts that he'd made after the war—the reason why he was even at the Ministry Ball all those months ago in the first place. She'd never really thought about it, but the sudden conversation had her curiosity reeling. What? What had he done?

"Well, it's just hard to hate him after everything he's done."

"Done what?" Hermione asked, no longer able to keep silent.

Ginny looked at her with raised eyebrows. "It was his money that rebuilt the entire east wing of Hogwarts, plus he was the one that instated that new department at St. Mungo's—you know, the sixth floor dedicated to those injured by war and dark magic?"

"Not to mention Ollivander's," George added. At the confused looks being thrown his way by Hermione, Ron, and Katie, he took on an exasperated tone. "Well surely you've noticed the update on Ollivander's shop. It's almost twice as big and he's got workers helping him out now."

"What's that got to do with the ferret?" Ron asked, still confused.

"Malfoy funded it," he said, looking at Ron as if the answer should have been obvious.

"How did I not know about this?" Hermione asked quietly, almost to herself than anyone at the table.

"It's been mentioned briefly in the Prophet," Ginny started before pausing, as if trying to figure out how to word her sentence, before she said carefully, "but not as it should be."

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

Mr. Weasley piped in. "Because his family's allegiance was towards Voldemort and therefore they don't feel he deserves a chance to be redeemed," he said morosely.

"That's awful," Hermione said, remembering Millie's plight.

Mr. Weasley shrugged. "There are still a lot of closed minds out there that hold too much power. Which is why," he said before turning to address Ron, "I urge you to reconsider your attitude towards him. I've encountered him quite a bit over the years and, believe me, after years of dealing with his father, I can safely say he is nothing like Lucius."

Hermione thought she was going to be sick.

o-o-o

"Hey, you okay?" Ginny asked with concern as she went to go sit by Hermione.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure? You looked a little green before."

Hermione smiled. "I'm okay. I guess that Malfoy stuff just threw me for a loop," she said, turning away before Ginny could see anything else in her gaze: guilt, wounded pride, sadness. She'd really mucked it up, hadn't she?

"I'm actually surprised you hadn't known."

"Yeah. Me too," Hermione replied in a soft voice. She took a deep, quiet, calming breath and turned back to Ginny. "You ever think we'll all get our happy endings?"

Ginny smiled at her in question. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know…I guess I mean everything that we'd always wanted. When you're a kid you have this idea of what happiness is, right?"

Ginny nodded.

"And life might throw you a few curve balls that you would never have seen coming, but even then you figure that everything will eventually just work itself out. I…do you think it will?"

Ginny took a deep breath. "I don't know. I hope it will."

"I do too."

"I guess you just have to keep fighting, you know? Even when everything seems like it's out of your favour and all hope is lost…if you want it, keep fighting for it."

"Is that what happened with you and Harry? You stopped fighting?"

"No," Ginny replied in an easy manner, "the problem with me and Harry was that we stopped wanting it. If I was still in love with him or he still in love with me, I'm sure we would have kept fighting."

"Like he's doing now with Pansy."

"Exactly."

Hermione looked down at her hands. "What happens when you want it but don't fight for it?"

"That's when fear wins."

Author's Note: As I mentioned at the beginning of the chapter, there are only two more after this. I'm definitely going to miss this story; I had so much fun writing it.

And I'm also a little blue because my beloved web-series, The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, aired its finale episode (number 100!) yesterday. Such a wonderful show, and if you are at all a fan of Pride & Prejudice-take a gander because it's so worth it.