Author's Note: Okay faithful readers – this really is the last chapter! Despite some requests to just keep going forever, I do have to wrap it up or I fear we will all get bored eventually. Thank you so much for your undying support and beautiful words. I am so pleased you enjoyed this one. I had so much fun writing it. As always, JKR is our Chosen One!

There were reports throughout the wizarding world that Rita Skeeter had been put on the backbench at the Daily Prophet. Rumours had been circulating non-stop for a week now that she had been demoted in disgrace, and yet for once no one seemed to know the particulars. Which was odd, because gossip was rampant in this tight-knight magical community, but not one person knew what happened to the formerly popular, usually unethical journalist. No one except Narcissa Malfoy, that is.

It would come as no surprise to those who were well acquainted with the Malfoy matriarch, that she was relentless in the protection of her family.

And Hermione Granger was family.

She had never expected to be so closely connected with this fiery muggleborn girl; she could never have imagined Draco when he was younger ending up so desperately in love with a girl like this. But, although surprised, she was most certainly pleased with the outcome. Even though they had shared only a couple of short conversations together, and one fairly awkward dinner, she had come to rather admire the girl. Too many pureblood girls that Draco had befriended as a youth had been shallow and altogether too fake in their interest in her son. But Hermione… now she was a real firecracker. She was independent, clever, humble, natural and compassionate. She reminded Narcissa strongly of her own sister Andromeda when she had been younger; determined to go after what she wanted no matter how many people criticised her or the trouble she created. She pursued the right path doggedly, and it was most fortunate indeed that in this case, that path led straight to her son Draco.

She hadn't seen her son this happy in a very long time. In fact, she had never seen him like this. He was lighter and more serious all at once. He could barely contain his joy every moment of the day. He was a man now. And this was only after a week or so of them reconnecting. Now she knew how he had managed to survive all the horrors going on during his sixth year at Hogwarts. If Hermione was by his side, he could tackle anything.

Which is why Narcissa had stepped in to defend the newest addition to her family. It hadn't even taken much effort on her part; the Malfoy name was still powerful even after Lucius's death. All it took was a sly meeting with the editor of the Daily Prophet – an old friend of the family. And a few thousand galleons to sweeten the deal. But Rita Skeeter was where she belonged now; writing a stale old column in some backwater page that no one noticed.

Narcissa smiled secretly to herself as she sipped her wine, looking down on the extensive gardens at Malfoy manor with pride. Just beyond the hydrangeas she could see Hermione and Draco walking together across the lawns. They were holding hands and beaming from ear to ear as they chatted comfortably with each other. She chuckled wryly as she saw her son slip his hand down and around her waist, as Hermione promptly batted it away. He whispered something into her hair and she blushed, pushing him off playfully. This soon descended into Draco chasing her down and picking her up lightly off the ground as if she weighed nothing. He spun around as she laughed uproariously, and Narcissa felt her heart clench slightly.

She had never had this kind of easy friendship with Lucius. The sight of such unadulterated love and exultation took her breath away. She was so happy for her son. He deserved to be with someone who was his equal; someone who respected him and treated him tenderly, but who wasn't afraid to speak her mind and boss him around a bit.

She shook her head fondly as she remembered a moment at dinner a few days ago. Her house elf Miffy had been serving them, making her way around the table. There had been a slightly awkward silence as the old elf refilled their wine glasses. And when she had finished with Hermione's, the girl had given the elf a warm, kindly smile.

"Thank you very much! The food is so delicious, you're a very talented chef."

Miffy had almost dropped the decanter. The poor little thing had been so shocked she had gone white. She had whimpered for a few seconds before vanishing from the room with a frightened pop.

Draco had thought it was terribly funny, of course. He had burst into laughter and reached over to grasp Miss Granger's hand affectionately. Narcissa wasn't sure why the girl felt it necessary to thank and be so nice to a house elf, but it was clearly one of those traits that Draco adored about her.

Narcissa reached up to lay her hand against the frosting glass of the window. She allowed her lips to stretch into a stiff grin that transformed her normally stoic features. She had smiled more in the past week than she had in many year; just like Draco.

Yes, Hermione was family now. Lucius would probably be spinning in his grave at the idea of a muggleborn possibly becoming mistress of Malfoy manor someday. But Narcissa knew better now. And she was determined to protect her little family now, even if it meant bribing and manipulating every single person who threatened them.

….

One Year later

Hermione was huffing out a frustrated breath as she looked at herself critically in the floor length mirror. She had never liked this shade of pale yellow, but Ginny had insisted that it looked lovely on her. Personally, she thought she looked like an overripe banana. Hermione winced as the seamstress pricked her with a needle as she measure the waist for re-adjustments. She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. They had been here for hours trying on different colours and styles, and it was beginning to grate on her nerves.

Molly was fussing about like a hen on steroids, Ginny was infuriatingly happy, Luna was warding off gnargles on the clothes around her, and Katie Bell– George's new girlfriend – was so shy she kept stammering her agreement to any and all suggestions made.

Maybe Draco was rubbing off on her, Hermione thought with a self-deprecating scowl. She was clearly more stubborn and sarcastic than ever before. Perhaps a bit of the Slytherin had rubbed off on her after all this time.

That brought a slight smile to her face. Hermione watched her smug expression thoughtfully in the mirror for a moment, trying to ignore the yards of sickly yellow material draped around her. It was certainly true that she felt like a different person these days. She could be rude, abrasive, cunning and was most definitely ambitious. And in turn, Draco was more compassionate, lighter and hard working, putting in effort to earn his goals, not just using his money and power. But in a way they balanced each other.

"So what do you think?" Ginny asked with a glowing smile. Hermione only just managed to resist the urge to roll her eyes. If she had to go into one more dress store she was going to scream.

"It's perfect," she gushed in an attempt to appease the two fanatical Weasley women. Maybe she could end this nightmarish shopping trip early, "I love the colour, it's so bright and cheerful."

This was exactly what Ginny wanted to hear. The younger girl squealed and bounced up and down on her feet in excitement. She and Harry had decided that they wanted a small, bubbly wedding ceremony that revelled in the joy of being alive that they all needed in the years after the war. Hermione was so happy for them, but she would have been a lot happier if she didn't have to take part in every tiny, tedious detail of the preparations.

She had just finished another year of courses at the university. She was tired, and stressed, and her mind kept wandering back to the night before when her and Draco had celebrated the end of a particularly difficult week of exams.

It had been vigorous and so passionate she still blushed when she thought of it. After her paper had finished, she had been so eager to get back to their London townhouse where she lived with him now. George had moved in with Harry to be closer to the shop at Diagon Alley, and she had moved into Draco's beautiful Georgian house that she had fallen in love with the moment he had whisked her back there after a date to show her around.

One of the best things about her new home was the enormous marble bathtub in the ensuite. Last night Draco had drawn her a hot bath filled to the brim with scented lotions and bubbles and she had soaked there for a whole hour, only interrupted by the gentle popping in and out of their new, paid house elf who brought her a big plate of cookies and some hot chocolate. She smiled just remembering it. It had really taken the edge off her exam stress.

When she had emerged from the bathroom, Draco had been there eager to strip the towel from her slightly damp body and press her into the bed. They had made love more than once. And each time Draco didn't seem to be able to get enough of her. He had been voracious. She supposed that she had probably been ignoring him too much these last couple of weeks while studying. But he had certainly made up for lost time. He had been firm but tender and so very thorough. Hermione's toes curled up just thinking about it.

"Hello! Earth to Hermione!" Her head snapped towards the voice and saw Ginny looking at her with a knowing smirk on her face.

"Come back from daydream land and your blond lover, please!"

Hermione chuckled, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

"Sorry," she murmured, pleased that the other ladies were in the change rooms and not within earshot.

"Alright, spit it out. What did your gorgeous Slytherin do this time?"

Hermione smiled wryly and shrugged her shoulders.

"Don't ask," she warned, making Ginny giggle.

"Fine! I suppose I'd only get jealous of your millionaire sex-god boyfriend!"

"Yes you would."

"Spoilsport."

She shook her head with an indulgent smile and tugged at the lining of the dress around her neck. It was so itchy. She saw Ginny pass a critical eye over her and frown.

"The dress is hideous, isn't it?"

Hermione gave a little thoughtful pout. She looked down at the dress and considered how she should answer. Finally she looked up at Ginny with a sheepish smile.

"If I say yes, will you keep making me try more on?"

Ginny burst into raucous laughter. The other ladies popped their heads out to see what was going on. Luna started laughing too, although clearly didn't know what about. Molly just frowned, as if they might insult the dresses by making too much noise.

"Alright!" Ginny yelled, drawing the attention of the shop assistants, "No more dresses! Let's all go to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch!"

Katie looked relieved, Molly slightly put out, and Luna was still laughing at nothing. Hermione let out a breath and giggled too.

"If you insist!"

The ladies made their way to the pub, and were all thrilled to see that the men had also finished up early and were slowly making their way through a few pints of mead. They seemed equally tired and sick of the whole wedding shopping venture. Hermione embraced Arthur warmly, kissed Harry and George each on the cheek and then gave Ron an awkward smile and wave. As always, he turned beet red when he saw her. But things were starting to mellow between them again. He had fought his way through a stumbled apology a couple of months ago, having missed his friend dearly. And while they struggled to hang out like they used to, at least they were cordial to each other now. Draco despised him. But then, he usually hated any man who got too close to her. He was like a child with a toy, and it made Hermione laugh. She teased him about his jealous nature constantly, much to his chagrin.

"How goes the new home?" Harry asked her quietly as they separated from the pack and found their way to the bar.

"Why? Missing me already?" she replied with a warm smile.

"Every day!" he responded sincerely.

"Oh Harry, I miss you too. Not all the time, but often."

Harry laughed. It was clear that he agreed with her on that point. Moments like last night in bed with Draco, squirming as he kissed his way down her stomach and spread her legs with a covetous gleam in his eye, she was very glad to have moved to the new townhouse. For too many months they had suffered the embarrassment of forgetting silencing charms, and Harry's accusing glare the next morning at breakfast. He really didn't want to hear his best friend – who was like a sister to him – in the throes of passion with his one time childhood nemesis. Not that he and Draco were still unfriendly; in fact they were growing quite a warm relationship between them, based on a mutual love of the curly haired Gryffindor girl. But still, there were limits to what he could tolerate.

"How was the dress fitting?"

"Like a bad dream," Hermione joked in response, and Harry chuckled and gave her shoulder a little shove.

"Don't be sulky," he reprimanded, but she just shook her head with a teasing smile.

"If I have to try on one more uncomfortable, garish coloured dress I think I might kill your bride!"

Harry scoffed, giving the star-shocked bartender a friendly smile as he passed over their drinks. Everyone treated him with a kind of terrified awe these days. It was like he was some kind of mythic knight in shining armour. He found it very embarrassing, but usually took it in his stride and just acted amiably towards everyone. She admired his patience.

"You sound more and more like him every day," he commented lightly. Hermione feigned ignorance, turning her wide, blinking eyes on him without a hint of deceit.

"Who?"

"Draco, of course."

Hermione allowed her eyes to widen slightly.

"Do I?" she questioned dumbly, even though she had just thought the exact same thing less than half an hour ago.

"Don't play Slytherin with me!" Harry scolded her with a playful frown, "You know exactly what I mean! He's a bad influence on you."

Hermione shot him a mischievous smirk.

"He would be so pleased if he heard you say that."

"I bet," Harry remarked drily. They each took a couple of sips of their drinks, watching fondly over at the excited banter going on between the Weasleys. This wedding would really lift their family's spirits. Hermione was glad, "I'm surprised he doesn't simply keep you tied up in his evil dungeon."

She grinned and pinched him playfully on the arm.

"Only sometimes."

Harry's face screwed up in disgust. She enjoyed shocking him with the occasional comment about Draco. With each horrified reaction she only gained more confidence. It tickled her to see him go almost green with discomfort. Unfortunately George was far better at teasing this reaction out of him than she could ever accomplish.

"Eugh…you're so mean."

"And you're so gullible!"

Harry shook his head and drained the last drops from his glass. He placed it back down on the counter with another kindly, appreciative smile at the bartender.

"Interested in having dinner with us tonight?"

Hermione turned to observe her friend. She caught him staring over at Ginny, his gaze warm and filled with love. It made her smile.

"Sure, what did you have in mind?"

Harry shrugged, scuffing his feet on the floor.

"We could just grab some takeaway. My stomach is still recovering from the last fancy restaurant Draco took us to."

Hermione laughed. It was true that Draco was persistent in taking the four of them out to increasingly extravagant places to eat. He always paid for the meal, and he always had fantastic suggestions for what to order. It had become a sort of game between them, a joke that they shared. The photographers at the Daily Prophet usually had a field day. They had even started a column in the society section of the wining and dining experiences of the ex-Death Eater and the Boy-Who-Lived. It had become a popular segment for readers.

"Some Chinese sounds good. We can grab it from the takeaway place near us. Draco and I love their crispy lemon duck! And I've been teaching him to use chopsticks."

"Now that I'll pay to see!"

"He's adorably clumsy," she agreed with a wistful smile. "So…do you and Ginny want to come to our place at around six?"

Harry nodded eagerly.

"Perfect! No paparazzi there, right?"

Hermione chuckled.

"No, I doubt there will be photographers at our little corner takeaway."

"Good. The papers have been particularly obsessed with me this week."

Hermione bumped his shoulder with hers.

"Don't worry, oh mighty Chosen One. You'll be safe with us."

He blushed a bit sheepishly, and Hermione giggled at the bashful expression. He was still the same old, insecure boy from school.

"Let me just send Draco a patronus and run it by him," she said, fishing out her wand.

She concentrated on her happiest memory as she cast the spell. It didn't take a lot of focus to make the silvery figure appear. For all those years after the war, her patronus had become so difficult to conjure. Maybe on some level she had known that her most joyful memories were locked up behind walls of magic. But now, she could cast it so brightly she had to shield her eyes a little in the darkened pub as she spoke the message.

The little otter danced around eagerly, before disappearing in a sprightly flash. The memory she had used to cast it clung to her and remained like a warm afterglow even though the creature had disappeared.

I love you so much, Hermione.

The feel of their bare skin wrapped around each other was such an intense sensory memory that Hermione shuddered with little pinpricks of residual happiness.

The joy that Draco brought her, the exhilaration of their life together, made the very core of her magic stronger. Her patronus was evidence of that. She could only thank Merlin that she had had the common sense to see past her own hurt feelings and seek him out to heal their wounds together. And that he had never given up on her. Hermione was prepared to bask in her good fortune for the rest of her life. The friendship and love between them grew every day. And she would never forget it.

….

Draco glared down at the letter he was writing, his quill magically scratching out a couple of poorly chosen words as he figured out the best way to express himself. Hermione was always the better wordsmith than him. No doubt due to her extensive reading. Looking around the cosy little rumpus room he was in, he smiled fondly at the floor to ceiling shelves swimming in books. When they had combined their personal libraries into the one house, it had been an astronomical task to fit everything in. Several charms had been needed to extend all the nooks and crannies of the room.

This wasn't their largest living space, of course. There was another room on the ground floor of their townhouse where they housed guests, with pretty furniture and bright, cheerful wallpaper and canvases lining the room. But this room was their private sanctuary. The friendly fireplace and veritable hoard of books gave it a merry atmosphere.

Draco groaned in frustration and scrunched up the entire page into a little ball. He hated all this business correspondence. He was growing more and more jealous of Hermione's flat electronic device that she used. She had tried explaining it to him once or twice, but it had all sounded like gibberish to him. Something about "E" mail and being on line. But she managed to hammer out messages to people so quickly. And there was no need to wait for owls. She would often get letters from friends and correspondents instantly.

Not for the first time, Hermione had suggested to him the other night that he try to learn it and incorporate it into his business. And he had to admit he was sorely tempted. It could certainly increase efficiency. Draco pursed his lips to stop from grinning as he considered how quickly his life had gone from one long nightmare to how it was today. With Hermione's encouragement he had even managed to add a research wing to the Malfoy business that examined dragon curses in the mines of Ireland. It had started as a philanthropic venture, but had turned into quite a lucrative offshoot of the company. It had been wonderful to blend business and pleasure in such a way. She had remembered his interest in the topic from their conversations at school, and had presented the idea casually to him one evening, as if she were merely suggesting he wear a jumper in cold weather. But her nonchalant tone had belied the excitement he felt at the possibilities that raced through his mind at her words.

At that moment, Draco's reflections were interrupted by the appearance of Hermione's silvery otter, which skipped around the room spiritedly. He beamed when he saw it. It was such a beautiful, light little creature. A true embodiment of Hermione.

Hi! I hope your work is going well! I want to AVADA myself here; all this excitement over dresses is so nauseating…

Draco smirked and leaned back in his chair. The otter had an adorably aggravated frown on its face, whiskers twitching in displeasure. He had known Hermione would tire easily on her dress outing with the youngest Weasley. If there was one thing she hated, it was people fussing about over trivial details.

…eurgh anyway, Harry was just suggesting that the four of us have some Chinese takeaway together for dinner. Let me know what you think; I didn't want to just book us in without checking with you first. Your patience for Gryffindors might have already reached its quota for today. Okay, love you byeee!

The otter spoke very quickly, in Hermione's excited, breathless voice. Before it left it dove through the air and flipped its body to playfully twist itself around his body, like it was frolicking. Then it gave a cheeky wink and vanished. The room was much darker after it left, and Draco wished that it could come back to keep him company a little while longer. He sighed and considered the question before him. He was perfectly happy to have Harry and Ginny come over that evening. He didn't like to readily admit it, and certainly not to his friends from Slytherin house who he saw occasionally, but he rather enjoyed spending time with the other couple. They were always so merry together. He had never had such easy camaraderie with his schoolmates growing up. There were no politics with Hermione and her friends, they just loved each other and were eager to spend time together. It was all so natural. And he would be lying if he said he hadn't actually gotten quite close to Harry in the past year. The two had a surprising amount in common, and it hadn't taken him long to realise that the infamous Chosen One was not as stuck up and selfish as he had previously thought. Harry was unexpectedly humble and generous. He was uncomfortable with the attention he received, and as Hermione had explained to him once, the boy wanted nothing more than to just be normal. But most of all, he was a kind and caring friend to the woman Draco loved. The bond between Harry and Hermione was unbreakable. He would have typically been jealous of their connection, if he hadn't seen for himself the almost sisterly way that Hermione adored her friend.

Draco shook his head as his thoughts had distracted him long enough. Hermione would probably be waiting for a reply. He raised his wand carefully to cast his patronus. Even today, Draco still sometimes got nervous casting it. His eyes flickered down to the hideous Dark Mark scorched so deeply into his arm that no wizard or muggle doctor had been able to even make it fade. He remembered an evening a couple of months ago when he and Hermione had been curled up in front of the fire together, quietly reading in each other's arms. She had noticed that his book was about curse scars, and that he kept shifting to scowl down at his forearm. In a display of true Hermione compassion, she had closed her book softly and twisted her body to cuddle into him. Then she had gently pushed his sleeve out of the way had stroked the mark tenderly with her fingers. Draco could vividly remember the visceral feel of her caress shuddering through his entire body. It had been like a balm to his tortured soul, a trickle of light seeping through him and cleansing just a tiny bit of his tainted magic. He could picture her clearly even today, as she leaned down closer to his arm. His heart had pounded with nervous anticipation as she bent down and placed a gentle, forgiving kiss right on the ugly skull burned deep into his skin.

Draco smirked to himself suddenly, his wand poised to cast his patronus. He could also remember in rather graphic detail what had happened next. He had been so overcome by her beautiful, touching gesture, that he had gone a bit wild. He could still recall the slight gasp and moan that she released when he pushed her back frantically into the rug right there in front of the fireplace. He had been so unbridled that night. Hermione had held on tightly in shocked, indulgent desire as he had taken her swiftly, barely pausing to remove their clothes at all. And the whole time his arm had been tingling with pleasure where she had stroked it and kissed it.

Bloody hell, he thought with a shiver of awe. Hermione was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He couldn't get enough of her, even after a year together she still drove him crazy and set his blood on fire. Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He realised with a pleased smile that he didn't need to worry at all about casting his patronus today. With his memories and feelings about Hermione swirling through his head like a festival of fireworks, Draco cast the spell.

The completely snow white, rakish looking wolf stood with regal posture, his tail whipping from side to side as he waited to dart off eagerly to his mate to deliver his message. He was a stunning creature with sleek fur and a wily gaze. Hermione adored him. Sometimes when they were in bed late at night, and she had woken from bad dreams, she asked him to cast it for her. He always obliged her. She would sigh happily when she saw him. And often she would summon her own otter to play. The usually straight-backed, elegant wolf would transform into a goofy little pup every time that otter was around. He would bounce up and down happily as the otter swam around him, and the two humans would watch in delight at the stirring display of pure, light magic coming together.

"Tell Harry if he wants to go through my broomstick collection again, he need only ask. He doesn't have to invite himself over so transparently under the guise of wanting dinner!"

Draco smiled wryly, picture Harry scoffing at that. But it was partly true; the boy did love playing with Draco's rather impressive collection of vintage Quidditch brooms.

"As for you, darling one, I will agree to this excessively Gryffindor dinner on one condition. You get home first so I have some…quality time with you before the Potters descend on us. Looking forward to it."

He knew that Hermione would blush at his implication, and she would no doubt try to brush it off in front of her friends. But after reflecting on his memories of her, Draco now wanted her badly. He sincerely hoped she understood the urgency in his tone, and that she hurried home to him. They had a couple of hours until dinner and he would be more than happy to make the most of that time wrapped around her. He wondered briefly if he could coax her into the shower so he could strip her down to nothing and wash her all over. He loved doing that. She would make the sexiest little whimpers.

Draco tapped his fingers contemplatively on the desk. He opened his top draw and peered down at the little box inside. It was masked in hundreds of concealing spells so that Hermione wouldn't see it. If she went near his desk, she would suddenly feel the need to be somewhere else. He looked down at the little black box with a pounding heart. Maybe tonight he would get the chance to show Harry and see what the Boy-Who-Lived thought about it. He had already spoken to Hermione's dad – it appeared to be a muggle custom that was more an informal conversation that actually requesting permission like in pureblood circles – and now he just had to pick the perfect moment. He chuckled as he thought that after despising trying on bridesmaids dresses all day it probably wasn't the best timing yet. But he would be patient. He had all the time in the world with Hermione.

Draco's ears perked up when he heard the whooshing of the floo in the downstairs foyer.

"Draco? You scoundrel, you made me go all sappy and red faced right in front of Harry. I completely melted just thinking about it, so you'd better make it worth my while!"

Draco chuckled. He quickly shut and locked the desk drawer, resetting his wards. He eagerly jumped to his feet and strode from the room, planning to grab Hermione and drag her up to the shower. He didn't know how his life had turned out so perfectly, but he was going to cling to it and never let her go again. As he raced down the staircase, already unbuttoning his shirt, he smiled brightly, his cheeks sore from being stretched. Who would have thought that the grumpy, prejudiced young boy in sixth year could have had his life transformed so profoundly by this sometimes irritating, bossy little know-it-all Gryffindor. He would have laughed at himself if he'd known back then. But now, he couldn't imagine his life any other way.

….

Fin! Thanks for reading this story guys, you have been such wonderful and thrilling reviewers and followers of this little tale. I appreciate all your kind words, and I would love to hear what you thought of this story as a whole! Thank you again and happy reading always!