Author's Notes: A huge thank you to everyone for your lovely comments :) I'm doing my best to respond to each of them, but know that even if I missed responding, I read them all and I appreciate them so so much! And another thank you to my beta, PotionChemist, for having me revise this chapter and make it a tad more explicit ;)

July 2007

"He's fine, Hermione. Scorpius is well over a year and a half; he's alright to be left with Molly and Arthur for one night."

Hermione tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, trying not to worry too much. She had never been away from Scorpius for longer than a workday, and certainly never overnight. They had a routine, and she was worried that Molly wouldn't do it right, even though Draco had reassured her countless times that one night without it wouldn't be the end of the world.

"It's one night tonight, and one night again in two weeks. Why couldn't we have just gone to see this during the day?"

"Because then Ginny and Harry wouldn't have been able to come with us and it would have been harder finding someone to watch Scorpius," Draco said, slipping his hand into Hermione's.

They were at the cinema, waiting in a long line that twisted around the lobby. With every new book or film, the fan base behind the Harry Potter series grew, making it nearly impossible to go into Muggle London without seeing something related to the franchise. Once again, people had shown up at the cinema dressed in cloaks and carrying wands.

"I still can't get over how strange it is to see my face on a shirt," said Harry quietly, watching as a group of teenage girls walked by. "I mean, I know it doesn't look like me, but it's supposed to be me."

Ginny, who had been wearing a jacket even though it was a warmer day, grinned at Harry. She reached for the zipper of her coat and slowly unzipped it. "I'm so glad you didn't come to London with me last weekend. You would have stopped me from buying this, which would have been an injustice to us all."

Pulling off the outer layer, she exposed the red shirt she was wearing, adorned with the writing, "Drarry Forever" on the front. She turned around and giant letters spelt out "Potter" across her shoulder blades, with a large picture of Harry and Draco's faces underneath.

"I had it custom made," she added, grinning.

Harry groaned and shook his head at her. "I'm honestly surprised it took you this long. I half expected you to do something when we found out about the whole 'Drarry' thing a few years ago."

She shrugged, her eyes bright. "You were expecting it then. I have to keep you on your toes, Potter. Gotta stay sharp!"

Hermione looked up at Draco, noticing the smirk playing on his lips as he watched their interaction. Why neither of their husbands had commented on the extra layers was beyond her, but it did make for a lovely public reaction. She slipped her hand from his so she could remove her own sweater, revealing a matching shirt. Instead of red, her shirt was Slytherin green, and the back writing said "Malfoy".

"What do you think?" she asked, smiling sweetly and batting her lashes at him

He looked like he was going to say something before promptly closing his mouth. His brow furrowed and his bottom lip jutted out in a pout. "I normally like seeing my name across your back, but I really don't know how I feel about seeing my face that close to Potter's. It's a little unsettling."

Letting out a joyous laugh, she pushed up on her toes and kissed him softly. "Remember what we did the night you found out about Drarry?" she whispered. "We have the whole house to ourselves tonight and it's been so long since we've had alone time."

Draco's eyes widened and his hands moved to cup her arse, pulling her hips flush against him. She could feel his hardening cock through the Muggle trousers he wore.

"How long is this damned movie?" he growled.

"Only two hours."

He nipped at her lip. "Two hours too long. I can't wait to take you home and tear your—"

Someone around them coughed loudly, causing Hermione to jump back. Draco's hands flew to clasp in front of his groin, covering the half-mast that was quite obvious to anyone who looked. He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, pulling her back to his chest and using her as a human shield.

He leaned in to whisper in her ear, his deep voice sending chills up her spine. "Just wait until we get home."

Two hours too long, indeed.

"I forgot how vile she was," Ginny said as they arrived back at Grimmauld Place after the movie. "She's almost worse than Voldemort."

"Not almost," Draco said. "She is worse than him. Look at how many people she fooled at the Ministry. People seem to think that just because you don't kill others means that you're 'good'. I think my father is pretty good proof that you can be evil and still not a killer."

Sinking onto one of the sofas in the library, he pulled Hermione down beside him, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She gave him a soft smile and leaned into him.

"What's wrong?" he asked her quietly, not wanting to draw Ginny or Harry's attention.

"Nothing. Just thinking of Sirius' death and the fight between Harry and your dad. You were there but the film completely wrote you out."

"They didn't exactly write me out. They just made me the school bully," he said nonchalantly.

Hermione looked up at him, her brow furrowed. "Why aren't you bothered by this? I thought you hated what they did to you?"

He ran his hand through his hair, messing up the styled locks. "Well, for starters, we don't know how the series is going to end. The next book comes out in a couple of weeks, and maybe they'll get the ending right. But even if they don't"—he tipped her chin up with a single finger—"I have you and Scorpius and that's more than I could ever deserve."

"I guess you're right," Hermione said, her smile becoming more genuine. "You did luck out, didn't you?"

He brushed his nose against hers, pressing little pecks on her lips.

"I won the damn lottery."

"Yes, you did, " she said, deepening their kiss. "It's after the movie, you know. I believe we had plans."

Looking up, Draco saw the other couple had left the room, either to go get a drink from the kitchen or off to shag while they were also child-free. He stood up and pulled Hermione to her feet.

"We're leaving, bye! Nice to see you!" he called out the open door. He turned back to see Hermione had already stripped off her shirt and was standing in just her bra and jeans, her nipples tight under the thin fabric.

"Take me home, Draco Malfoy."

Rushing forward, he scooped her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist, and Apparated them to their bedroom, bypassing the Floo entirely. It would take too long and he needed her immediately.

His mouth connected with hers, drawing the air from her lungs as their tongues touched. Moving his hand along her back, his fingers flicked the clasp of her bra, the thin fabric falling from her shoulders and exposing her tits.

Hermione's hips ground against his, delicious movements that stiffened his growing erection. Her hands pulled at his shirt, trying to tug it over his head to no avail. She let out a small whimper into his mouth.

"Draco," she pleaded. "I need you naked, right now."

He tossed her back onto the bed, watching as she propped herself up on her elbows, her panting causing her breasts to rise and fall so perfectly. Stepping back, he slowly popped each button of his shirt, exposing his sculpted abs inch by inch. Her pupils were blown wide, her gaze hungry and wanting. Draco was sure if he looked at the apex of her legs he'd see she'd soaked through her knickers and jeans.

"I hope you didn't think you'd be sleeping tonight," he said as he slid his shirt off and folded it over the chair by the end of the bed.

Hermione shook her head, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. "I have other plans for us, which we'll be able to get to if you'll hurry up and take off your pants."

Chuckling, Draco happily obliged, loving the look on her face when his cock finally sprang free. He wrapped his fingers around his hardened shaft, pumping once, twice.

It had felt like ages since he was truly able to worship her the way she deserved, and he had no intention of wasting a single second of their night together. He could stand there and tease her for hours, or he could be a good husband and give her the multiple orgasms she deserved.

Crawling over her, he let his cock rest against her exposed stomach, his tongue dipping into her mouth once more. Her hands moved to his back, sliding down his sides. He felt a small hand trail around his waist, wrapping her fingers around him and pumping firmly.

"Oh, love," he purred. "Tonight is about you."

She let out a breathy moan, her head tipping back onto the pillow. Placing open mouth kisses to her neck and chest, he made his way down her torso, taking a moment to run his tongue along each of her nipples. Her hands slipped from his body and gripped the blankets beneath them.

Draco's fingers moved quickly, divesting her of her jeans and tossing them on the floor where his own pair lay in a heap. His mouth moved to her cunt, flicking his tongue across the lace-covered mound. She bucked against him, crying for more.

He hooked two digits onto the waistband of her knickers, wiggling them off her hips and down her thighs.

Discarding the lace with their trousers, he kissed his way up her legs, sucking gently on the tender flesh of her thighs. She moaned, her fingers tugging on his hair. Sliding a single finger through her wet folds, he pressed his thumb to her swollen clit.

His name fell from her lips, a desperate plea. "I need you."

She wasn't going to last long like this, having been wound up for so long, and he wanted to taste her come in his mouth before he fucked her properly. Bringing a second finger to her core, he pushed them both inside her. Her cunt tightened around his fingers, a small spasm jolting through her.

Bringing his mouth to her heat, he increased the pressure on the small bundle of nerves and replaced his fingers with his tongue. She screamed out his name as her back arched. Knowing she was going to come, he thrust his tongue into her deeper, his nose brushing against her clit and making her cry out again.

The taste of her climax in his mouth was so much sweeter this time around; he'd been deprived of it for so long.

Hermione's fingers twisted into his hair and pulled him up to her, her lips finding his. She was never shy about kissing him after he went down on her, and he loved that she was the first to push her tongue into his mouth, tasting herself on their kiss.

Before he had time to realise what was happening, she had rolled them over, her legs straddling his hips. She shifted so she was sitting upright and rolled her cunt against him.

The head of his cock rubbed against her clit and Draco watched as a bead of precome glistened on the tip.

Reaching between them, Hermione took him in her hands, swiping her thumb across the tip and causing a shiver of pleasure to run up his spine. She expertly pumped the length of him slowly, her hand twisting at the head like she knew he liked it. Spasms shot through his body as he fought the urge not to come in her hands.

"I'm going to come if you keep doing that," he groaned, his eyes focused on hers.

A coy smile played on her lips as she slowed the movements of her hand, teasing him. Her free hand lifted to her breast, taking a pert nipple between her fingers and rolling it, her eyes fluttering closed. Watching her play with herself like this, to be so open and free, was as arousing for him as it was for her to touch him. He could watch her all night.

But tonight wasn't about that. They could do this almost any other evening. Tonight he wanted to hear her scream his name.

"Hermione," he growled, watching as her eyes snapped open at his tone. "If you don't stop touching me like that, I'm going to have to take control."

Her lips curled up into a devious smile. "I'd like to see you try, Malfoy." His name rolled off her tongue in the sexiest way possible.

Grabbing her by the hips, he rolled them over so she was lying on the bed. Taking hold of her knee, he flipped her onto her stomach and tugged back, pulling her arse up. Her cunt was wet with arousal, begging to be filled.

Lining up his cock, he slid the head in slowly before pulling out and starting again, pushing deeper and deeper each time. With every gentle movement, she let out a small whimper and her fingers dug into the pillow under her head. He finally thrust into her, sheathing himself fully. She let out a wordless cry and her hips pressed back against his.

"Fuck, Draco," she groaned. Looking over her shoulder, she watched as he pounded into her, her lips parted. "Gods, don't stop — ah — like that! Fuck! Yes!"

Folding himself over her, he brought one hand to her clit, rubbing rough circles over the swollen bud, while his other hand groped her tit. Her hips rotated against his and he could feel the ribbed muscles of her cunt clench around him, trying to stop her orgasm from coming.

"Don't hold back," he groaned. "I want to feel you come on my cock."

She let out a string of curses as he increased the speed and pressure on both her clit and nipple. His mouth pressed to her neck, leaving dark marks that he knew she'd make him heal later. Her cunt clenched around his dick, holding him in place as her orgasm washed over her in waves. Releasing her tit and adjusting himself so he was positioned upright again, Draco thrusted again, watching as her body writhed and shook. Her knuckles were white from gripping the bedding, and her forehead was shiny with beads of sweat. She looked fucking perfect.

His stomach muscles clenched and he could feel his balls tightening. He wasn't going to last much longer, especially with the way her hips continued to grind against his. With a final thrust, he emptied himself into her, groaning her name in broken syllables.

Placing a soft kiss to her lower back, he let himself slip out of her and roll to lie beside her. Her hair was plastered to her face, her cheeks flush, her eyes glassy. He dropped a small kiss to her nose and rested his forehead against hers.

"That was…" he started, trailing off when no words seemed to fit.

Hermione let out a breathless chuckle. "Yes, yes it was."

She curled herself up against him, chest to chest, with her leg hooked over his waist.

"Just a small break," she said. "Then I'm expecting round two, three, and four to follow."

"Thank you again, Molly. I know we've asked a lot of you and Arthur lately, but I really appreciate it!" Hermione said, her voice rushed. "Bill and Fleur have our numbers if you need to reach us."

"We've got it, Hermione. Scorpius is going to be fine," said Molly. She ushered Hermione towards the Floo. "I'll make sure he gets his warm drink before bed and is tucked in with his favourite blanket."

Nodding her head, Hermione turned towards the Floo. She took a pinch of powder but stopped short of tossing it into the flames. "And his dragon. He needs Fre—"

"Fredrick, his stuffed dragon, I know. Now go, or you'll be late."

She wanted to look back at her son, to make sure he was alright, but Molly was pushing on her shoulders. It was silly to be this worried about Scorp. He had done just fine when he stayed at the Burrow two weeks earlier, and he would be fine this time. Sure, transporting a sleeping baby after midnight might be a problem, but Hermione wasn't sure if she could go another night without him at home.

Tossing the powder into the fireplace, she called out Grimmauld Place and was swept away to where Draco was waiting with Harry and Ginny.

"Finally! I left five minutes ago," Ginny said. "What took you so long?"

"I hate missing bedtime," she said with a shrug.

Ginny slung her arm around Hermione's shoulders and led her towards the front door. "Alright, well let's go. I read in the news the other day that they're expecting massive crowds all over the city tonight because of this."

The four adults left Grimmauld Place and made the short walk to the nearest Underground station. It wasn't an ideal way of getting there, but they'd discovered it was faster than Flooing to the Leaky and walking. Draco was still unnerved by the whole concept of a train underground, but they'd used it a few times and he was slowly getting over his discomfort.

"Shite, you weren't kidding," Harry said as they entered the same shop they had visited in years past.

Hermione tucked herself into Draco's side, trying not to get trampled by all the people moving about the room. She looked over and saw Ginny looking around, gaping.

"I forgot you've never been to one of these," Hermione said. "You two should go get sorted."

Ginny looked to her husband and tugged him off in the direction of the Sorting Hat activity. Harry followed along but Hermione could tell he didn't want to be sorted again; the real event in first year was stressful enough for him.

One of the shop workers approached Hermione and Draco. "Excuse me, sir, would you mind grabbing that book off the shelf for me?" She pointed to the aforementioned book and smiled.

"Not a problem," he replied and reached up for the book. The woman thanked him before heading back in the direction she had come from.

"Wow!"

Hermione turned to look over her shoulder where another couple was standing, the man staring at Draco's arm. Both she and Draco looked down to his left arm, noticing the grey ink of the Dark Mark clearly visible to the public.

She thought she was going to throw up. How had they forgotten to glamour his arm? Draco never left the house without casting the charm, preferring not to draw attention to himself when he was in the magical world. It wasn't as bad in the Muggle world since many people didn't understand what the Mark meant, but it had become a habit for him to cover it anyway.

"That tattoo is amazing," the man said. He stepped away from his girlfriend and towards Draco. "Do you mind if I look at it? I'm a tattoo artist myself and I've never seen one shaded like this before."

"Uh…" Draco said, visibly uncomfortable. "I guess?" He held his left arm out for the man to see.

"Most places aren't able to use grey ink quite like this. If you hadn't moved your arm the way you did, I probably wouldn't have seen it. Where did you get it done?" The man looked to him for an answer.

When Draco hesitated for too long, Hermione jumped in. "In America. We went there last year and he got it done at a private studio in New York."

"They did a great job. You're a big fan, then? I mean, to get the Dark Mark tattooed on your arm like that. I've wanted to, but Anna here said I should wait and find out if I like the end of the series before I brand myself with memorabilia of it. Oh"—he stuck his hand out to Draco—"I'm Matt. Sorry, didn't mean to intrude on your space without introducing myself."

Draco's body seemed to relax as Matt continued talking. "David," he said, shaking the man's hand. "This is my wife, Jean."

Stepping forward, Hermione shook both Matt and Anna's hands. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

They talked casually with the other couple, learning that they had been fans of the Harry Potter series since the first book had been released. Every year, they came to the bookshop to buy the book at midnight.

"Harry got Slytherin, surprise surprise," interrupted Ginny, coming to stand next to Hermione. "Oh, uh, sorry. I didn't mean to cut in."

"It's alright," said Matt. He introduced himself and Anna.

Hermione motioned between Harry and Ginny. "These are our friends, Harry and Jenny."

They had all arrived that evening with code names, having realised that it would be too busy for them to get away with using their real names and someone was bound to ask questions. The original plan has been for Harry and Ginny to be Jenny and James, but Ginny's slip-up tossed that plan out the window.

Anna let out a laugh before slamming her hand against her mouth, a deep blush filling her cheeks. "I don't mean to laugh, truly. It's just, your name is Harry and you're at a release party for the last book in a series called Harry Potter and you just look so much like Harry Potter."

Unable to remember if Harry had glamoured his scar, Hermione tensed when she saw him raise his hand and run it through his hair. His forehead was blemish-free. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. It would have been too difficult to try and explain why he also had a scar.

"Yeah," he said with an awkward chuckle. "You're not the first person to draw the connection between me and the fictional character."

Draco snorted indelicately. "Except that one guy a couple years back that said you weren't the best Harry Potter look-alike."

"I thought we were never going to talk about that again?" asked Harry, his eyes narrowed.

"It's too funny not to bring up. Besides, this is the last time we'll go to one of these, might as well take a walk down memory lane."

Rolling her eyes at their back and forth, Hermione muttered, "If you wait a bit longer you can revisit a whole year."

"What was that?" Ginny asked.

She shook her head and waved her off. "Just thinking we should go get in line if we don't want to be out too late."

They said goodbye to the Muggle couple and headed towards the line up that had begun to form by the registers.

"We're getting two copies, right?" asked Hermione as they found a spot to wait.

Draco hooked his fingers through hers and squeezed tightly. "Absolutely. I'm actually excited about this one and don't want to wait for you to finish."

She smiled at him, hopeful for what might be written about their happily ever after.

It was late when they returned to the Burrow to get Scorpius. Draco picked up the sleeping toddler and held him close to his chest, his soft snores never changing. By the time he was asleep in his cot, Hermione had already cracked open the newest book.

He'd had to wrestle the hardcover out of her hands so she would sleep and not be a total zombie the next day. They had only been home for two hours and she was already nearly halfway through it.

Scorpius woke them before the crack of dawn, his tiny voice yelling at them from down the hall. Draco rolled out of bed to collect his son, soothing his cries and wiping the fat tears from his cheeks.

"It's alright, sweet boy. Do you want to see Mumma?"

"Mum," Scorpius pouted. "Mum." At a year and a half, Mum and its variants were his favourite words. Right up there with no.

They crawled back into bed with Hermione, the toddler wasting no time before climbing under the covers and pressing his nose against his mother's. A tiny hand reached up and rested on her cheek.

"Mum, Mum."

Hermione cracked open an eye and peered at Scorpius through thick lashes. Her face split into a grin and she wrapped her arms around the boy, pulling him against her chest.

"Good morning, my little love. How was your night?"

The blond boy started babbling away about his night, only half of it making any sense. She caught Draco's eye and grinned. He made motions asking if she wanted any coffee without interrupting the story and she nodded yes.

Grabbing the book from his nightstand, he made his way down to the kitchen. None of what the book had said was incorrect, not from what he had heard. It was true that Bill and Fluer's wedding had been broken up and that the Gryffindor trio had to hide out at Grimmauld Place. They had in fact snuck into the Ministry and retrieved the locket, escaping just as the potion was wearing off. Ron leaving, the attack at Godric's Hollow… all of it the same.

It wasn't making sense to Draco why that information was the same. Why did the author keep so much information true to what happened while changing other pieces so drastically? Considering the book was from Harry's perspective, he supposed it made sense that the text didn't mention Hermione's correspondence with Hogwarts, especially since Harry didn't learn about that until after the final battle.

The coffee finished brewing and Draco poured two cups, levitating them and some fruit for Scorpius in front of him. He flipped to the next page, devouring every word. There was so much happening and he craved every bit of it, looking for pieces that were different or that hinted that something had changed.

He was looking for glimpses of himself and all the time he lost while under the curse.

'And I think,' said Bellatrix's voice, 'we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want to.'

'NOOOOOOOOOOOO!'

Ron had burst into the drawing room; Bellatrix looked round, shocked; she turned her wand to face Ron instead—

'Expelliarmus!' he roared, pointing Wormtails' wand at Bellatrix, and hers flew into the air and was caught by Harry, who had sprinted in after Ron. Lucius, Narcissa, Draco and Greyback wheeled about; Harry yelled, 'Stupefy!' and Lucius Malfoy collapsed on to the hearth. Jets of light flew from Draco's, Narcissa's and Greyback's wands; Harry threw himself to the floor, rolling behind a sofa to avoid them.

The events leading up to Malfoy Manor were largely the same from what Draco had been told, though he knew that it ended much differently from what the book described. Reading that scene, he knew right away that the story would have a drastically different ending than that of real life, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

If he was honest, it was the narcissistic part of himself that had him reading the books in the beginning, but somewhere around the Goblet of Fire, he had started to actually enjoy them. Sure, it was difficult to read his name and a description of himself doing horrible things, but as the books went on, especially the fifth one, he was able to step back and see them as purely fictional.

It was possible that he might even let Scorpius read them one day, so long as his son knew that they weren't real.

And in thinking of that, of this series being passed on to the next generation, Draco wondered how the Wizarding World hadn't caught wind of the series sooner. It had been almost a decade since the war and people were becoming more familiar with the Muggle world and all it had to offer.

How had this not made it into The Daily Prophet?

They spent the morning together as a family, having breakfast and playing out in the garden, and by noon Scorpius was ready for a nap. Hermione brought him up to their room and tucked him into the large bed between her and Draco. Each of them pulled out their copies of the books and continued to read while the tiny boy slept soundly between them.

But she broke off as yells and shouts and the unmistakable noises of duelling filled the corridor. Harry looked around and his heart seemed to fail: Death Eaters had penetrated Hogwarts. Fred and Percy had just backed into view, both of them duelling masked and hooded men.

Hermione wiped at a tear that slipped down her cheek. She took a few long deep breaths before continuing to read. She knew what was coming and was preparing herself for the inevitable pain.

Looking up from his own book, Draco gave her a sad look. "The battle?"

She nodded her head, pressing her lips together to stop the bubble of emotion that was building up in her chest. Turning back to her book and flipping the page, she kept reading. The words were blurring with her tears, but it didn't matter. It would have been better to stop and skip ahead, to not read what happened and relive the pain as if it were only yesterday, but nevertheless, she continued.

She needed to know.

And Hermione was struggling to her feet in the wreckage, and three red-headed men were grouped on the ground where the wall had blasted apart. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand as they staggered and stumbled over stone and wood.

Draco moved around the bed, crawling on to her otherside without disturbing their son, and crushed her into his chest.

"They—They… oh gods…" She tried to wipe at the tears that continued to flow but they were coming too quickly.

"Shh," he soothed, his hand rubbing circles on her hair. "It's alright, love. We knew this was coming."

She shook her head, gasping for breath. "No, no, no. Not like this."

Pulling back, Draco tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. "What happened?"

"She killed the wrong person."

The following Monday's Daily Prophet had a large picture on the front page with a picture of the cover for the newest Harry Potter book. It was the first time the paper had printed anything about the series and Hermione couldn't figure out why they decided now was the right time.

WAR HERO'S TALE MAKES A BIG SPLASH FOR MUGGLES EVERYWHERE

Hermione rolled her eyes at the headline. They made it sound like this was something new, as if the series hadn't been around for a decade at this point.

"Why now, do you think?" Draco asked that morning. He had just returned from bringing Scorpius to the Burrow; Molly babysat while he and Hermione worked.

"I'm not sure," she said. "I don't have any meetings until after lunch today. I think I'm going to go pay my dear friend Skeeter a visit and see if she knows anything about it."

Cocking an eyebrow at her, Draco slid the paper in front of him. "Why Skeeter? She's not even mentioned here."

"That's the point. Something this big, she would have squashed it by now, lest it get in the way of her telling the story herself. I'm honestly surprised she hasn't tracked down the author herself."

"And you're certain that she isn't the writer behind this?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I met her, remember? I would have noticed if she was using a glamour. And besides, Skeeter doesn't hide things. If she wrote this, she would proudly stick her name all over it and rub it in our faces."

"True… but that ending? I mean, come on. Me and Astoria? You and Weasley? Potter naming his kid after Dumbledore and Snape? It's like the author just forgot to do a simple search on our lives now." Draco rolled his eyes and folded the paper up, moving it back to her. "When you find Skeeter, give her a piece of my mind, will you?"

"Of course." Hermione stood and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sure it's nothing, but if anyone will be able to find information, it'll be her."

"Skeeter? You haven't heard?"

Hermione stood in front of the reception desk for The Daily Prophet. Their editor-in-chief, Barnabas Cuffe, had come out when she started to make a fuss over not being able to go back and see Skeeter herself. The new receptionist just kept telling her that she couldn't and Hermione wasn't having it.

"Heard what?" she snapped.

The man swallowed and looked around nervously. "She left. Gave her notice Friday morning and left. No warning, no two weeks. No explanation even. She just said she wasn't needed here anymore. About time, too."

"Why do you say that?"

"That story we broke this morning? She had been keeping it out of our pages for years. We've known about it since 2001 but she blackmailed me to keep it out of the paper. I'm certain she did it to all the other magical news sources as well since no one else ever printed it."

Hermione stopped breathing. She thought she might faint. Skeeter had known about the series this whole time? Ron had mentioned Skeeter years ago, telling Hermione that he thought she might be behind it, and she had ignored him. She had met J.K. Rowling. She believed that they were different people.

"So she leaves and now you can print whatever you want?" she asked quietly.

Cuffe nodded his head and shrugged, his large shoulders moving quickly. "I can show you her letter if you really want. She said there that I could, and should, print anything I wanted about the Harry Potter series. So… here we are."

"I have to go," Hermione said. "I can't believe she was under my nose the entire time. Fuck. Sorry."

"It's fine, Mrs. Malfoy. But I have to ask, why do you care so much about these books? It's obvious to any of us that these are mostly fiction. I mean, look at the ending. You and Weasley?"—Cuffe snorted—"Like that would have ever happened, even if—"

"Yes, I know," she said, cutting him off. "It's the principle of the thing. She, or someone, has printed our story without our permission. They need to explain themselves."

The large man didn't say anything for a moment. He looked as if he were deep in thought. "I know my opinion probably won't mean much, but I think the books have done a great job at capturing the struggles of the war. There was so much focus on what the adults, the ones who should have stepped forward, did wrong, and how the whole war fell onto the shoulders of three children. It may not have been one hundred percent correct, but the thoughts and emotions are all real."

Hermione let his words sink in. She had spent so much time over the years toying between being upset that these books were so correct and being upset that they were wrong, that she hadn't stopped to look at what they could mean to people.

Neither she, nor Harry or Ron or Draco, had any interest in telling their stories. They had all made it very clear after the war that all they just wanted to put it behind them and focus on healing. Having a series of books printed about their tales wasn't just an invasion of their privacy, but it did so in a way that was wholly inaccurate. Draco had been through so much, and painting him as a villain crossed a line for Hermione that she hadn't been aware was there.

"If whoever this author is wants to write my story, then so be it. But she brought my husband and child into it, and I won't stand for that. I need Skeeter's contact information."