Usual disclaimer, I am not JK Rowling, these are my imaginings with her wonderful world and the characters who live in it. Thank you Rowling for giving us all so much inspiration.

"Hermione Granger and the Seventh Year"

a fanfic by Cerys Dewar

Chapter Twenty

More weeks passed, and more weekends, and when Spring was beginning to creep into the grounds of Hogwarts, when George's presence no longer caused any sort of teasing from Draco, news finally came of Rookwood's capture and return to Azkaban. Patil and Rourke returned to their wives and their usual auror duties, and Draco and Hermione began to study for their NEWTs. McGonagall granted Draco and Hermione continued use of the secret dorms after Draco approached her to ask if they could stay there; Draco had branched out somewhat socially and had certainly gained the friendship of most of Hermione's friends, but he had grown comfortable having Hermione as a roommate. Hermione enjoyed the additional quiet, not sharing with three other girls, but visited her old roommates often and Draco and Hermione hosted a few gatherings of their own for their friends, once the location of their dorm was no longer a secret.

George arrived one weekend at the end of March, grinning ear to ear, as Draco left to spend a weekend at his mother's flat. Hermione blushed and found herself quite shy and speechless; she and George hadn't been truly alone in the dorm before, and she wondered if George had been thinking about the same fact. When the portrait door closed behind Draco, she got her answer as George gently kissed her and slowly pressed her into one of the walls. For the next long while, they kissed, Hermione's arms around his neck and her hands in his hair, his hands running up and down her sides and back, causing her to become quite short of breath.

George turned her and continued kissing her, walking her backwards until finally they were in her bedroom. Within the next hour, Hermione and George made love for the first and second times together, and Hermione enjoyed the realization that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her in that sense; she'd been pleasantly surprised at how easy it was with George. She hadn't hesitated even for a moment, and even though they both fumbled a little and there was some initial shyness on her part and awkwardness on his, they found their way. Hermione cuddled into George's chest and he held her tightly afterwards, kissing her softly.

"Was I gentle enough, love?"

"Yes. Did I do alright? The furthest I'd really ever gotten was with Viktor, and even with him it was only really making out..."

"I am a happy man. Don't overthink it too much. It was amazing."

Hermione blushed, and then George chuckled and pulled her close, kissing her again. For the rest of the afternoon, they enjoyed and explored eachother some more, and after that weekend, George began spending all of his weekends sleeping in Hermione's bed with her. Sometimes he had to go into the shop, but he always came back at the end of the day, even when Draco would tease Hermione about it. After a while, Hermione stopped being shy about it, and even became quite bold herself. One weekend, as she was packing a weekend bag to go to the Burrow with George and Draco, George interrupted her packing and they were delayed by an hour. Draco snickered when Molly scolded them for being late and making her worry, but then stood, shocked, staring at Hermione and George, as Molly then gathered him into a hug and welcomed him.

He found himself truly enjoying being there, sitting around the small table with tea and biscuits, chatting about school, and the wizarding world, and random topics that came up. He was surprised at how easily he was able to talk about his classes and his mother and just everything. He'd always felt a tinge of pity for the Weasleys, being pureblood but having so little, but as he sat at their table, surrounded by the evidence of their family, even seeing the sadness in their eyes and the way they looked at George, concerned but cautiously happy for his relationship with Hermione, he realized that there was no reason to pity them.

The weekend passed all too quickly for Draco, and suddenly it was Sunday afternoon: Molly was working on dinner quite happily in the kitchen, having asked Draco which foods he liked best, George and Hermione had gone for a walk, and Draco was out in the yard enjoying a cup of tea with Arthur after helping him de-gnome the garden. Draco was a bit dirty from the gnomes and the garden, and he was dressed in some spare clothes of George's that Molly had cast an altering spell on so they would fit him, as he wasn't as broadly built as George. Draco had never worn hand-me-downs, and he had certainly never been dirty, at least as far as he could remember, but Draco realized that he'd never felt as peaceful and content as he did in that moment. Arthur suddenly thanked Draco, and reached over and patted his shoulder, and Draco stared at him, shocked.

"Why are you being so kind to me, after everything my family did?" Arthur sipped his tea, furrowing his brows, until he finally spoke.

"You haven't had enough kindness in your life, lad. I knew your father was not a good man, if you don't mind my saying so, but I hadn't realized the full extent of just how cruel your life has been. Even if I had known, I don't know if I could have helped, but I am a firm believer in making amends, young man. Also, I have realized that you are a fine young man; Molly and I are really enjoying having you here."

Draco said nothing, leaning on the fence with his arms crossed, deep in thought. Finally, after taking a deep breath a few times and releasing it, he broke his silence.

"Nobody has ever told me they enjoyed my company before." Arthur eyed him over the top of his cup as he drank the rest of his cup.

"Draco, the one comfort you can take is that you are still young. At eighteen, your life hasn't even really started yet; you're not even finished school yet. You have the rest of your life to realize that everyone you met before was wrong about you, and most importantly that YOU were wrong about you. You are not who we thought you were; you are not who Hermione and George once thought you were. In time, you will prove yourself more and more: you just need to be unafraid of showing who you really are and taking the time to find out who you are."

Draco stood, deep in thought, and Arthur stood with him, just as quietly. He didn't interrupt Draco's thoughts, he didn't lecture or try to direct Draco, he just stood there with him, and Draco found himself truly respecting a man that he used to laugh at.

"I was so wrong about you. When I was a kid, I mean. I don't know how to tell you just how sorry I am." Arthur chuckled drily.

"It's not your fault, and frankly, Molly and I know full well what a lot of people think of us and we don't really care. Other people's opinions of us do not matter to us; we know who we are and we're happy with our lot in life. We've never really made a habit of worrying about what anyone's saying about us, and at our age, we are content."

"Content. I don't think I've ever been content my entire life," Draco said, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice.

"You will find your contentment in time, son." Arthur patted Draco's shoulder again, and if he noticed Draco's emotions at being called 'son' and receiving affection, he didn't show it. Finally, Draco found his voice again.

"Thank you."

Arthur smiled and gave Draco a hug, then took his cup from him, and turned to walk back to the house. Draco climbed up and sat on the fence, looking out over the rolling fields around the Burrow, thinking about everything Arthur said and giving up on fighting the tears streaming down his face. He didn't notice George approaching, and jumped a little when George climbed up to join him on the fence. He looked sideways at George and smirked, brokenly.

"Your father hugged me."

"My mum hugged you too."

"Yes, but I've never been hugged by a man before."

George looked at Draco for a moment, then stood and walked over. Then he hugged Draco.

"There. Now you've been hugged by two. Everybody needs hugs, even you." As he walked away, Draco found himself struggling with the overflow of emotions he felt, having been accepted and even cared for by people he'd once looked down on. He turned and watched as George opened the back door into the kitchen as Molly appeared, gesturing to Draco to hurry up.

"Come on, dear; come join the family for supper."

Draco jumped off the fence and jogged towards the house, and when he stood in the doorway, Molly gave him a fond smile and shooed him off to go wash his hands and get ready for the meal. As he sat down, he looked at each of the four people around him: Hermione, who'd adopted him first, and now people whom he'd once derided proudly, who now called him 'son' and 'dear' and welcomed him to their table lovingly. His eyes met Hermione's, and he found himself grinning at her. She smiled back and kicked his foot with a grin, and George gave her a little side hug and then smiled at Draco.

"Welcome home, Pasty."

"Thanks, Gingernut."