Well, here it is. The end.
Chapter Thirty Seven – A Happy Ending
The Burrow was alive with music and laughter, every window lit with orange light, casting a glow on the earth outside. Despite the garden being covered in a thick blanket of white, untouched snow, which continued to lightly fall, there was an aura of warmth, and inside, every fire in every hearth crackled heartily, mugs of hot chocolate and tea steamed, cradled in hands, and cheeks were flushed. Christmas evening was well underway, trickling by, and as night had fallen (early, as it tends to do in winter), the house had become fuller, the laughter louder.
Christmas dinner had been served only an hour or so before, the small kitchen table rammed with mismatched chairs. Arthur sat at the head, as patriarch in his family home, with Molly on his left, who glowed with her usual bustling hostess pride, filling up the plates of those nearest her and calling down the table to recommend the cranberry sauce. Bill and Fleur sat on his father's right, their baby daughter Victoire wedged between them, playing absently with her carrots. Percy and George, now sporting lime green hair, sat opposite, and the Weasley clan was rounded off with Ron and Ginny on either side of the table. Then came the honorary Weasley children, Harry and Hermione, with Hermione's parents sitting beside her, marvelling at every bit of magic, whispering to ask their daughter for names they had been told just minutes prior for the hundredth time that day, and listening to the stories of the magical world with a soft awe. Draco and Narcissa were opposite, quiet if only because their family dinners had always been in silence, and Andromeda and Teddy completed the admittedly odd and somewhat unconventional family.
They were a motley mix, but the table would have felt emptier if any one of them had been missing.
Draco found his eyes kept wandering, settling on Hermione. Their eyes met a couple times when she glanced at him, thinking he wasn't looking. Their hands brushed as she passed him the veg. His mother caught him at one point, and his face flushed. Harry, sitting next to him, also seemed to notice if the wry smirk pulling at his lips was anything to go by. Draco made a conscious effort not to look as often after that.
There was a lull after dinner, once everyone had been fed, and they retired to the Weasley's cosy living room. Arthur sat in his armchair by the fire, his only daughter perched on the arm, her head on his shoulder, his arm cradling her. There was a game of exploding snap on the carpet in the centre of the room, which Harry was clearly losing if George and Ron's jibing was anything to go by. Molly cuddled her granddaughter, with Percy leaning over her shoulder to try and make the baby smile, whilst Bill and Fleur sat entwined on a chair, watching them fondly. Narcissa bounced Teddy on her lap, holding her sister's hand, and Andromeda's thumb stroked her knuckle like it used to when they were children.
Draco sat on the floor by his mother, and Teddy reached for him, grasping his hair, pulling. He tried to twist away, but the toddler giggled and leaned further.
"Mother!"
Narcissa broke off her conversation, glancing at them. She laughed before she could stop herself. "Oh, Draco!"
"He likes you," smiled Andy.
"Here," his mother, much to Teddy's delight, offered him the child, and though Draco shook his head, at her persistence, and Teddy's outstretched arms, he begrudgingly took him.
Grimacing, he placed him on his lap, craning his neck back to try and escape the tiny arms that once again reached for his face. Teddy laughed, and his hair suddenly went white-blond. He clapped happily.
Across the room, Arthur was animatedly chatting to the Grangers, gently probing them for as much information on Muggles as they were willing to give him. Hermione mediated, occasionally offering the answer or supplying a breakdown of Arthur's questions for her parents, who seemed a bit flustered at the sudden excitement of the Weasley patriarch over toasters.
"You mean, it just pops up when it's done?" he continued, eyes wide. "How does it know it's toasted it just right?"
"Well," her mother began, glancing at Hermione, who smiled reassuringly at her. "It has a little dial so you can choose how toasted you want it."
"A dial!" Arthur exclaimed. "O ho! How wonderful! You know I had to deal with a hiccoughing one at work once!"
"Oh, well, that's-" her father trailed off.
Hermione's eyes wandered to Draco. She smiled at his disgruntled expression, holding back a laugh when he fell backwards and Teddy followed, tumbling onto his chest, squealing excitedly.
"He's very handsome," her mother murmured to her.
She looked at her abruptly. "What?"
"Your boyfriend," said her mum, and there was a familiar playfulness in her eyes that made Hermione's heart twinge with a yearning for the mother she had known before.
Before she could dwell on it, Hermione shook her head, and though she could feel her cheeks warming, she was quick to say, not for the first time that evening, "He's not my boyfriend."
But her mum just shrugged a shoulder, eyes darting to her a final time, a smile playing at her lips.
"He's not my boyfriend," said Hermione again, folding her arms tightly across her chest, pursing her lips, and trying desperately to keep her eyes on Mr Weasley as he started on about jack-in-the-boxes.
oOo
"Have you been promoted to babysitter?" Hermione asked, standing in front where he was now sitting on the settee in the kitchen.
Draco, in the process of disentangling Teddy's fingers from his hair, glanced at her. His eyes snagged. She was wearing a dark green velvet dress; it ended just above her knees, with three quarter sleeves. Draco tried to remember not to stare. He turned back to Teddy, who was trying to hook his hand in his mouth.
"He likes you," Hermione noted.
Draco grimaced. "So everyone keeps telling me. I'm not feeling particularly liked."
She grinned, holding out her arms, and Teddy immediately switched his attention to her, reaching for her. A little too willingly, Draco palmed him off. Hermione noticed his relief, cradling Teddy and letting him play with one of her curls.
"Count this as your Christmas present," she said.
"The best Christmas present I have ever received," he told her solemnly.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Did you hear that, Teddy? That's not very nice, is it?"
He gargled at her, copying her shaking her head. Hermione shot Draco a pointed look.
"Are they ganging up on you?" Harry appeared, two glasses of wine in his hands, looking warily between Draco and Hermione and Teddy.
"It's two on one, Potter. Tell her it's not fair!"
"Surely Teddy only counts as half a person," said Harry.
Hermione clutched the toddler to her chest, covering his ears and gasping dramatically. "Don't listen to them, Teddy. I expect it from Draco but not from you Potter!"
Harry held his hands up in mock surrender, but his face gave way to a smile when Hermione scowled at him, before she took Teddy back into the living room. He looked back at Draco, raising his eyebrows in lieu of reply, passing him a glass of wine.
Draco accepted it, taking a sip.
Harry sat beside him. "So, how long have you been in love with Hermione?"
Draco choked.
Harry looked at him, and when he continued to cough, he clapped him on the back.
"Thanks."
"You should probably tell her," Harry continued. "For the brightest witch of her age, she can be incredibly dense sometimes."
Draco snorted, but at the look Harry gave him, he fell quiet. "I-" he began, not knowing what to say next.
Harry shook his head. "You don't have to explain anything. Ron and I weren't there. We don't know what it was like."
Draco nodded, offering him a grateful smile. He took another drink.
Harry held up his glass in toast. "Merry Christmas, Malfoy. Or should I say Professor Malfoy?"
"Fuck off."
Harry snorted, taking a swig.
After a moment, Draco tipped his glass. "Merry Christmas, Potter."
They sat quietly, as the muffled euphoria of the next room floated back through to them.
Draco didn't look at him as he said, "I know I said it at the time, but thank you."
Harry shook his head. "I didn't do anything really. It was all Hermione."
He took a sharp breath before he turned towards him and said, "You know, we thought she was mad. Trying to help you. We never stopped to look at it from your perspective. But Hermione did. She saw straight away how similar we all were, how none of us had ever really had a choice in the matter. I think the reason we all feel so lost now is because we suddenly have a choice. There's nobody to tell us what to do. After living your life always being pushed around like a pawn in a game of chess, it's hard to find your own way once the game ends..."
"I've never been any good at chess," said Draco quietly.
"Neither have I," admitted Harry. Then, he looked at him directly. "But I think we're doing okay. I think we're finding our way."
Draco stared at him, and he found himself nodding along. Because he believed him or because he needed to convince himself, he didn't know. He looked into his wine, and said off-handedly, "She deserves better than me."
"Maybe," said Harry. "Guess that means you've got to be better then."
Draco looked at him. Harry shot him a lopsided grin, bumping his shoulder. Draco couldn't stop himself from smiling. He wondered when Harry Potter had become the voice of reason in his life, and found it even weirder that he preferred it this way.
oOo
Ginny came back into the living room, a mug of hot chocolate warming her hands, and moved to sit between Harry's legs on the floor, leaning back against his chest. He leaned his head against hers. Molly was perched on Arthur's chair arm, Percy standing beside them. Draco stood with Ron and George, the three men leaning against the windowsill ledge, a can of Muggle cider in their hands. Teddy and Victoire laid under the Christmas tree, the golden lights of magic dancing across their awed faces, reaching out to pull the bristles, with Bill and Fleur watching them to make sure they kept out of trouble. Hermione sat between her parents on the settee. Narcissa and Andromeda remained in their cosy armchairs, still deep in decades' worth of lost conversation.
Molly sprang to her feet, announcing, "Presents! It's time to open some presents, I think!"
She swept over to the tree, tickling Victoire's stomach on the way past, and the little girl giggled loudly. Like Father Christmas himself, Molly started handing out the presents, reading the names on the tags and passing them to nearest person to pass along, enlisting the two toddlers as her helpful elves.
There was a flurry of ripping, wrapping paper going flying in all directions, falling like snow and settling on the carpet. George ripped his bow off first, sticking it to his forehead.
Harry held against his chest a Holyhead Harpies shirt with "WEASLEY" printed on the back, and there was fresh congratulations passed around at the news of Ginny's summer signing with them. He kissed her on the cheek and proudly declared himself her biggest fan, promising to wear it every day.
George shook his present when it was passed to him, holding it to his ear. "It better be something expensive," he declared.
"And not breakable," Harry called to him, grinning. George winked at him.
He unwrapped it and held up a box of purple Muggle hair dye. He looked at Ron, who bashfully shrugged and said, "I thought you could go his favourite colour next."
Without a word, George grabbed his little brother and pulled him into a tight hug. "We'll do it together later, yeah?"
It was mumbled, but Ron heard it and nodded. When they parted, George wiped at his face, nudged his brother's shoulder and said, "Don't get your hopes up, I only got you socks."
"That one's for Hermione!" Molly announced, passing it to Harry to pass backwards.
Hermione took it with a smile, reading the tag, her eyes flicking to Draco and back. He watched her with baited breath. She slid her finger under the flap, tearing the tape, and slipping the gift out. It was an ornate silver box, intricately fashioned into delicate leaves, lined with emerald velvet.
She opened it and gasped quietly. Hermione pulled the necklace out of the box, revealing a simple golden chain that ended in a glass tear drop, in which was a little green bulb.
"What is it?" asked her mother, leaning closer.
Hermione didn't reply immediately, laying the pendant in her palm and watching in awe as the bulb bloomed into a small white flower.
"It's a jasmine flower," she said.
Her eyes found his.
Draco cleared his throat, and said, suddenly aware of how quiet the room had fallen, "It's linked by magic to the wearer. Depending on the mood, it wilts or blooms."
"Oh, it's lovely!" exclaimed Molly. "And it suits you so well!" she told her as Hermione held it to her neck for her mum to fasten it.
He felt his mother's eyes on him, but he didn't meet her gaze, continuing to look at Hermione. She mouthed "thank you" at him when the room once again rose in volume as more presents were passed around and unwrapped.
Draco smiled, and mouthed "you're welcome" back, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest, and grow and blossom like the jasmine flower hanging around her neck.
oOo
Draco and his mother stood at the kitchen sink, Narcissa washing the last of the cups as Draco dried them with a tea towel. Molly had told them to leave it, that she'd do it with magic later, once everyone had gone to bed, but Narcissa had taken her elbow and warmly declared that it was the very least she could do for such a marvellous hostess, and Molly had relented, preening under the praise.
"It's nice having a loud Christmas," said Narcissa after a while.
Draco looked at his mother, hands faltering slightly. He squeezed the towel.
"I've never had a Christmas so full of love," she continued, smiling as the living room behind them exploded in laughter and cheers.
Draco lowered his eyes to his mother's hands, which continued to circle the soapy cloth around the inside of the cup. He wondered at how strong those hands were, how much pain and heaviness they had had to hold. Draco reached out and held her hand briefly. Narcissa gave him a small smile. They returned to washing and drying.
"You should have just outright told the girl you love her," his mother told him after a moment.
Draco flushed deeply. His mother turned the tap off and handed him the last cup to dry. She gave him a knowing look, touching his shoulder fleetingly, before she turned to join the others in the living room.
"Hello Hermione."
"Hello Narcissa."
Draco spun round, the cup nearly slipping from his grasp. He quickly finished drying it, propping it on the side, twisting the towel in his hands.
Hermione stood on the other side of the kitchen. She smiled at him.
"You're well-trained," she commented, nodding to the draining board of sparkling clean cups.
Draco shrugged, whipping the towel over his shoulder. "Mum now gives the House Elves the weekend off. Someone has to do the washing up."
He rolled his eyes at her. "Control your excitement, Granger."
She scowled at him, moving further into the room to unwrap her scarf from the coat stand, draping it around her neck.
"Where are you going?" Draco asked, still frozen to the spot.
"For a walk," said Hermione. She paused and looked at him. "Would you like to come with me?"
He stared at her. Then, wordlessly, he nodded, putting the towel on the counter, and moving to join her in front of the door. Draco picked her coat up and held it out for her to slide her arms into. She smiled at him, stepping back into her winter jacket. When she turned back around to face him, he knotted her scarf at her neck, then reached around her to grab his own coat and the scarf she had knitted him.
"Ready?" he asked.
Hermione smiled up at him. "Let's go."
It was snowing slightly as they stepped out into the winter night, the cold immediately enveloping them. The grounds of the Burrow were tucked up in a blanket of crisp, white snow, as deep as their ankles. The sky was black velvet, torn in parts, giving way to pinpricks of twinkling starlight and a slim crescent moon. Every one of their breaths crystallised into transient snow globes. A quiet hung on the air, a peace that rested on their souls, rattled only by the crunch of fresh snow underfoot and their soft inhalations. It was like the world had frozen in time, like tomorrow was suspended and today preserved for just a moment longer than they were promised. But Draco knew tomorrow would come, that he couldn't live in this moment forever. Life starts afresh after every fallen snow.
They wandered aimlessly, taking small steps to avoid straying too far away from the house and getting lost in the dark. Hermione tucked her chin into her coat, digging her hands deeper into her pockets. Draco grimaced against the cold.
"Whose bright idea was it to take a walk in a blizzard?" he grumbled.
Hermione scoffed. "It's light snow, Draco! You're not going to freeze to death!"
"The last time we were out in the snow, Granger, you caught pneumonia."
"It was a common cold!" she protested.
Draco made a sound of disbelief, but he dropped it. He had learned when to pick his battles.
They continued walking slowly, past a tall, friendly looking snowman with a turnip for a nose and Mr Weasley's scarf perched on his dainty snowy shoulders. His mouth was a curved smile of empty snail shells and Muggle pennies formed his buttons.
"Another year come and gone," said Hermione after a moment, almost wistfully. She paused, as if thinking how to best say something, when she added, "I'm glad you didn't get swept under the rug, Draco."
He stared at his feet, watching where he was going, careful not to fall. "It felt like an inevitability at one point," he admitted. "But looking back I realise you had my feet planted firmly on the ground. I couldn't fall with you there, Granger. No chance."
He glanced at her. She stopped, and turned to face him, her eyes shining in the moonlight. Draco stopped too. A sly smile curled her lips. "Is that because of your pride?" she asked him teasingly.
Draco scoffed. "More like your stubbornness."
Hermione laughed, and the sound broke through the wintry silence like a church bell on a Sunday early morning.
She sobered after a second or two and confessed, "I thought I was close."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I thought my life had stalled. I thought it so unfair life got to move on and I didn't," said Hermione quietly, head titled slightly to the sky. Her eyes watched the trickle of snow, falling silently from the heavens. "But I was wrong. I was moving forward, not purposefully perhaps, it was a little more aimless than that, but I was going."
"There's nothing wrong with wandering through your life for a bit, Granger," said Draco. "We're still young. There's always the future."
"Not always," she felt inclined to point out, before she could really stop herself. Draco looked at her. "The future's not always guaranteed."
He huffed a small laugh, conceding, "No, maybe not. Maybe we haven't got years or months. But there's tomorrow, and an hour from now, and ten minutes-"
"Technically, that all still falls under the future category-"
Draco rolled his eyes and cut her off impatiently. "What I'm trying to say," he exclaimed, and Hermione grinned at his frustration, "is that you don't have to map your life out. You can take it slow for a bit if that's what you want. It's not just surviving, it still counts as living. What did you say to me? 'It's alright to be lost so long as you let yourself be found again'. Well, Granger, I say to you, it's alright to take the scenic route, to wander from the beaten track, so long as you find your way back again. In the end, you just have to show up."
Draco turned to look at her. She was watching him now, instead of the light snow that continued to fall around them. She was smiling softly.
"Very wise, Draco."
He shrugged, shooting her a smirk. "I learned from the best."
Hermione's smile widened, and the world fell away around them, dropping from under their feet, suspending them in that liminal space between the darkness of the earth and the darkness of the sky.
"What's your favourite colour?" Draco asked her abruptly, starting walking again to give himself something else to focus on.
Hermione thought for a moment, lifting her chin as though the moon would whisper the answer. "Lilac," she said. The snowflakes caught on her eyelashes.
Draco smiled. Pretty."
He was transfixed by her. It winded him, when he realised. Time had slowed down, the world had disappeared; he would never get another moment like this, when it was just the two of them, so open and vulnerable, on the brink of tomorrow and today, where ten minutes from now opened up new and infinite possibilities. He had put off telling her for the longest time, but now, he realised quite suddenly, was given to him, gift-wrapped.
"Granger," said Draco. "I'm in love with you."
They stopped walking at the same time, as if they were tuned into one another's movements. Hermione turned to look at him, her lips parted, her eyes wide. Her cheeks were flushed red from the cold, her nose pink, her eyelashes and the curls framing her face flaked with fresh snow. She looked so lovely, so hopeful, like spring. Draco felt himself fall in love with her all over again.
"I think I've been in love with you for a while," he said, before she could say anything. "I don't know if it happened slowly or all at once. I just know that I wouldn't be here without you, I owe you my life, and when I see your smile, I know it's going to be a good day, I know I'm going to be okay."
Draco forced himself to stop talking; his lips were cracked, his throat dry and scratchy. He was worried if he didn't stop now, he'd go on forever and he'd ruin it somehow, that a year's worth of words would get stuck on his tongue, falling at the last hurdle.
Hermione stared at him, her warm, quick breath visibly dissipating in the air between them. Her eyes flicked between his, seemed to trace with painstaking intricacy the details of his face.
"Granger," he laughed but it was nervous and uncomfortable. He ducked his head to gauge her thoughts. Draco hoped it didn't sound like he was begging. "Please say something."
"When?"
He blinked. Swallowing thickly, Draco said, "I think I realised it the day after our Hogsmeade trip." His eyes never left hers. He continued, speaking quietly but quickly, as though the words had been burning his tongue ever since and he needed to get them out, as though this was the only window of opportunity for him to tell her the truth. "I felt so sick when you didn't turn up to breakfast. I searched the entire castle. I didn't even think twice about asking Weasley where you were and risking everyone finding out. I had to beg the Fat Lady to get you. I was so angry with you for making yourself ill, for making me worry-"
Hermione huffed a laugh. It was slightly breathless. "Well, I'm sorry to be such a hindrance-"
"I didn't want to let you out of my sight," he went on. "You probably don't remember it but you fell asleep on me. It was then I realised that I was fucking hooked on you, Granger. And I had no idea what to do about it, because I don't deserve you and I don't know how you'll react. That's why I put off telling you. But everything I've ever said to you since has just been another way of telling you I need you, and I love you."
A tear slipped down her cheek, and Draco grimaced. "Was it that bad?"
Hermione laughed, wiping at her eyes, but more tears fell. Draco swiped his thumbs across her cheeks, cupping her face with his hands. She shook her head and leaned into his palm.
"No," said Hermione. "It was perfect. I don't think I can beat it-"
"You don't have to," he said quickly. "You don't have to say anything."
"Draco," she said, and he fell silent. Hermione took a deep breath, and as she spoke, more tears fell. He let them fall. "I don't think I'll ever properly heal. The war changed so much, so much of the world, so much of me. I thought going back to Hogwarts would help reclaim some part of who I used to be, but when I got there, everything was different. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't pretend that things were normal.
"And then, just to remind me that the world still turned, there was you," she continued, and Draco gave her a lopsided smile, clinging on to every single one of her words. "You were still the same, and I think I craved that sense of my old life. I thought I knew where we stood, and it was nice to feel that way, like I had any control over things.
"But then we were civil, and we could stand to be in each other's company. More than that, in fact, Draco, you helped me sleep. You let me help you. For some reason, we needed each other, we could break and hurt with each other, we could stop pretending because we didn't care what the other thought."
Hermione sniffed, the tears running freely now. "And I know you say I saved you but the truth is you saved me. You gave me a purpose again, Draco. Not to fix you, like S.P.E.W, it was nothing like that. It was making sure I got out of bed every morning just to see if you had too. It was trying to make you laugh if you looked like you hadn't in a while."
Draco stroked her face. Hermione looked up at him, holding onto his arms. He smiled slightly, and muttered, "You're rambling, Granger," because the air had suddenly gone warm and heavy around them.
Hermione never faltered.
"I did it all because I love you, Draco."
He grinned, pressing his forehead against hers. She squeezed her eyes shut.
"That's what I wanted to hear, Granger. You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear that."
And Draco kissed her. He kissed her for all the times he hadn't kissed her before. She was trembling and he didn't know if it was from the cold or something else entirely, but he wrapped her in his coat regardless, holding her tightly to him, moulding their bodies together.
He would pour himself into loving her, unabashedly, unequivocally, because she deserved to be loved in that way. She deserved to be cherished. She deserved to wake to love in the morning and fall asleep to it at night. Draco vowed in this kiss that he would be the arms to pick her up when her strength failed her, the hands to dry her tears, the mind to challenge her, the heart to love her, and to love her fearlessly at that. He made a promise to her that he would be with her every step of the way on this scenic route they'd both chosen whilst they rebuilt themselves, smoothed over their broken pieces and slotted them back together. He'd hold her hand every step of the way if she wanted him to. He realised that she'd made him that same promise months ago, and stuck to it even when things got hard.
They parted for just a second, where Draco committed every inch of her face to memory. He connected the dots of her freckles like they were stars forming constellations, watched as the snowflakes melted on her eyebrows.
"It's nice to have confirmation that you've warmed to me," she grinned. "I can't believe it took us over a year to become friends."
Draco shook his head slowly. "No, we're not friends, Hermione," he breathed against her lips, and he kissed her again, harder this time, slower, enjoying being able to kiss her as he liked.
"You know my mother has been calling you my boyfriend the entire night! This is really going to confuse her," she said breathlessly when she pulled away.
Draco grinned, wrapping his arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "Boyfriend, huh?" She stiffened slightly, her excuses stuttering but he cut her off, "It would be an honour, Granger."
At that, she pulled away from him slightly so that she could see his face. "I do have a name you know."
He tucked a loose curl behind her ear. His eyes wandered and he saw that the flower had fully bloomed in her necklace, as white as the snow falling around them. Draco smiled. "You'll always be Granger to me."
And he kissed her again. She tasted of jasmine.
AN: I can't believe it's over. The Light was my first fanfiction, as some of you will know, but Wanderer was a different beast entirely. I made my main mistakes in TL, learning and growing as I wrote, from a naïve 13 year old who liked to read to a teenager who knew a little better how to write a consistent plot and characters. As a university student writing this fic, I learned even more. And I received just the absolute loveliest messages from people like you, reading this and (hopefully) enjoying it. I also made some lovely friends! I hope this fic, and this ending, was worth the read (and the wait for those of you who have very patiently put up with my procrastination). Thank you SO much for all your time and love. I can never thank you enough. Have a very merry Christmas, stay safe, and be kind and loving.
E x
