Chapter 49

Harry looked at his beautiful wife cradling his son. Her silky red hair was loose and fluttering past her shoulders. He was so lucky and he'd never take what he had for granted, but that's what he'd done with Hermione. He was concerned. Draco had made her sound so alone. She was a great friend and a pretty witch. He had lots of friends at the ministry now and he wondered if there was someone there who may suit her.

He sat down heavily onto the floral furniture they'd chosen and rested his stubbly chin on his clenched fist. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. His wife was a perceptive woman who was very sensitive to his moods; she didn't need to use those skills to tell there was something on his mind today.

"What's up, love?" Ginny asked her genuine care and concern saturated her words.

"Just thinking about Hermione," he replied absentmindedly. He looked to Ginny and her nose wrinkled in unconscious annoyance. He chuckled, "Not like that. I'm a bit worried about her. I know we're trying to set Neville up, but maybe we could bring someone for her too."

Ginny's whole demeaner calmed and she seemed very interested in the prospect. She was a fiery witch, who was fiercely jealous of him, and he loved that about her.

They discussed it at length and decided to invite one more person to the party tomorrow. Ginny wanted to floo Claude right away, but Harry had other ideas and pulled his wife into him and kissed her.


Draco was running. He was feeling a little bit cooped up and, although he didn't want to admit it to himself, nervous about tomorrow night. He was concerned about how Neville would react to the attempted matchmaking. He was concerned about how Harry might react to how Hermione might react to Severus. But, as selfish as it seemed, he was mostly concerned about how things would go with Astoria. She'd agreed to come with him, but she hadn't agreed to be his. He'd started to rethink inviting her. Maybe he should have taken her out on a properly intimate romantic date first, but then again this would give him a definite second chance. He could appeal to her sense of fair play and ask for a second chance at a proper date if the staff party didn't go well.

Draco realised that he didn't quite know where he was. He'd allowed himself to get lost in thought and was now rather deeper in the forest than he'd expected to get. He stopped and looked around. The foliage was thick and intimidating. The earthy smell of the forest assaulted his nostrils. He saw a large boulder to his left and trudged over to in and slowly sat down on it's cold uneven surface.

He was unconcerned at being in the forest unarmed and led back on the boulder, allowing himself to catch his breath. He clasped his finger together across his lean stomach and again allowed his mind to flutter off in the direction of Miss Greengrass. Draco had taken her virginity; he pictured that night in his mind. She'd been timid, but passionate. He'd never had a woman so passionate, before or since. He hadn't expected her to be untouched, but had loved that she was. She followed his lead, but was not afraid to take control, once she got her bearings. She thought about the way she'd flipped him over and moved his hands to her waist and urged him to guide her. She'd been glorious and he wanted her again.

Draco felt himself begin to harden and sat up quickly and looked around. He stood up and thought about how far he'd come. A year ago, he would never have sat you in the open that way, for fear of attack. His face clouded. Should he be worried about tomorrow night? No. He'd be with the entire staff and he hadn't had a particularly bad encounter in a long time.

He calmed and drew his wand from the holster on his wrist.

"Point me," he muttered. It was a modification of the spell that, along with intent, would point him to his intended destination, rather than due north. He couldn't use Hogwarts as his aim, because of the multitude of protection spells on the castle, but he could use Hogsmeade. By choosing this direction, he would be led out of the forest and that's all he needed to find his way back.


Hermione had returned to her rooms via the floo and upon her small desk sat five separate articles on the subject of memory charms and the variables to consider in their reversal. Two of the articles, she'd read before. She decided to re-read them before starting on the others. She loved that Professor Snape expected to discuss them with her and that, in all the excitement, he'd been true to his word.

She'd enjoyed her encounter with him this afternoon. Hermione had been surprised to perceive his annoyance, but was glad when it had seemed to quickly abate.

When she'd finished reading the articles and jotting down a few of her thoughts, Hermione wandered over to her cupboard and opened it to look at the dresses she'd mentioned to the professor and began to consider what precisely she would wear tomorrow night in her attempt to impress him. She fought off the voice as best she could, but the word fruitless! still managed to slip through.