By the time Christmas break arrived, their group was working together seamlessly. Even Millicent, while not yet trying to fit in, did what was asked of her without too much complaining. Hermione was excited to leave Hogwarts to see her friends she'd missed dearly.

Ron and Harry had met her at Hogsmeade for one of the weekend visits in November, but they hadn't been able to stay long. That trip happened to fall on a busy day for the Auror training class, and they'd needed to return by the early afternoon. Ron had seemed happy if a little distant. She thought it might have been that he was tired, but she didn't press him. She was happy just to have him at her side again, to be with him and Harry like old times. She did her best to forget that they'd chosen a different path than she had and just enjoy their company.

Now, though, she had a full two weeks with Ron to look forward to, and she packed her things with an extra spring in her step. She wouldn't be taking the train to London; instead she'd simply Apparate to The Burrow, where she planned to spend the holiday.

With everything shrunk and stashed in her beaded bag, Hermione left her bedroom—one of the luxuries of being an eighth year student was not having to share a room—and went to the common room to say goodbye to her friends. It was the last day of classes, and almost everyone in eighth year was leaving today.

Hermione wished happy holidays to everyone she saw while constantly searching for the one person she was most anxious about seeing. Her relationship with Draco had grown beyond "not enemies" and now fell firmly in the friend position. He was easily her favorite person in the castle, a fact that astonished her whenever she thought about it. The only problem was that Ron didn't know—in fact, nobody outside of Hogwarts knew.

Eighth year was like a school within a school. They rarely saw the other years, and they typically chose to eat meals together in their common room, which was large enough to accommodate them all. Occasionally someone would eat in the Great Hall, usually when that someone was dating one of the younger students.

Hermione saw Ginny and Luna now and then, but though she'd told Ginny she'd been put in a group with him, neither of them really knew about the extent of her friendship with Draco. If either of them saw her with him, it was only in the halls going to and from classes.

She didn't know why she felt strange telling them about Draco. It wasn't as though they were doing anything wrong. Of course, the fact that he'd been the childhood enemy of her and her friends might have had something to do with her hesitation. But whenever she thought of explaining, she didn't know how to proceed. It would be hard for them to understand, since her closest friends weren't part of her daily life. They hadn't been around to see, not only the changes in Draco, but in all of the Slytherins.

Granted, her friendship with Draco was exceptional among the eighth years. He had received his fair share of glares and stares over it in the beginning, but he'd shrugged them off like they were nothing. His friends had slowly started speaking to him again, a fact that made Hermione very happy. He was warmer to everyone, and he'd even gone so far as to fly with Neville a few times.

"Has anyone seen Draco?" She finally broke down and asked a few people still lounging in the common room.

They all exchanged looks, and Neville responded. "Er, well, earlier. He left already. Got an owl and was gone fifteen minutes later. I don't think anybody knows what happened."

Hermione's heart sank.. "I hope everything's okay!"

Pansy glanced at Daphne, then at Hermione. "I'm sure you can owl him. He'd probably tell you."

"Thank you. I'll do that." She smiled and went back to her room, sad that she wouldn't be able to give Draco his gift in person. She'd made him a fake book, hollowing out the inside of an old Potions textbook, and filled it with chocolate Snitches.

With a sigh, she packed the gift, making a mental note to mail it for Christmas. There was a knock, and she opened her door to find Theo on the other side. The eighth year students had discovered that, unlike their former common rooms, the girls side was no longer automatically off limits to the boys. It had been a very interesting revelation, though since everyone had a private room, it didn't make much practical difference. "Granger. I didn't say anything earlier because I didn't want to draw any attention to it. But Draco said to tell you he hated to leave without saying goodbye but that you could expect to hear from him soon."

"Alright. Thank you, Theo."

He nodded. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

"You too!"

Despite feeling more disappointed than she thought possible, Hermione made her way through the castle and out the gates. She took one last look at Hogwarts, with all the lights in the windows blazing and snow covering every surface. It was truly one of her favorite places on earth.

Then she Apparated to The Burrow.

"Mum, wait. So you didn't even get to see Luke before Christmas?" Rose looked crestfallen.

Hermione chuckled. "No, I didn't see him."

"Did he write to you? Why did Luke leave so abruptly?"

"He did write. His mother had taken ill, and he wanted to be with her as soon as possible. She was all better by the time we came back to school."

"And how did Mark and Steven take the news that you were friends with him?"

"Steven took it well enough. Mark, though… he did not like the idea. The three of us had quite a history with him and his friends, so it was strange to them that I could even want to be in the same room with him, much less be his friend." Hermione reached for another handful of popcorn only to discover that the bowl was empty. "Oh no! What do we do?"

Rose's eyes twinkled. "Make more?"

"Aren't you tired yet?"

"Of course not! I've only just gotten a good start on my list." Rose tapped the quill on her parchment, which she'd fastened to a large book with a piece of tape.

"Your list?" Hermione tried to see what her daughter had written. So far there were names written down, plus a few notes for a few of them.

But Rose snatched it up before she could get a good look. "To be honest, I was hoping to hear more about Robert. But I suppose this story is all about Luke."

"It's not. We're just in a part of the story that has a lot of him in it." She tapped Rose's nose. "I promise we'll get to other things soon."

"Oh, I don't mind hearing about him if that's my father. Is that him?" She smiled her most darling smile, the one that could often get anything out of anyone.

But Hermione was practically impervious. "Nice try. You're supposed to be trying to guess."

Rose sighed dramatically. "All right. I mean, you were still technically with Mark at the time."

"That's exactly right. And that Christmas was a really nice one, except that I missed my parents dreadfully. But Mark's family was so kind that there were times when I almost forgot that I would probably never see them again." It still hurt, even after all this time. It probably always would. "After Christmas, I got to see all my friends at Hogwarts again."

"Including Luke."

Hermione laughed. "Including Luke. Only I was struggling with missing my parents more than I'd realized. I got through the holidays in one piece, but then when I returned to the castle, all of the feelings I'd pushed aside and shoved away came roaring back at me. Because, Rose dear, feelings and emotions don't go away unless you face them. You can bury them, ignore them, try to destroy them, but they will pop out at you when you least expect it. And something about going back to school brought them out for me. I managed to fight them for a few weeks, but then in the middle of January, something inside me broke. It was a book that did it."

The owl dropped the package off at breakfast just like any other day. Hermione was deep in a conversation with Justin Finch-Fletchley and Dean about the merits of electronic toothbrushes, so she took the package, fed the owl, and set it aside.

After breakfast, she opened it with trembling hands. When she peeled back the paper, a 1973 edition of Pride and Prejudice was revealed. Like always, Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening the book.

There was an inscription, but it wasn't the one she wanted. Hermione read the note to keep from bursting into tears right then and there. It was sweet, from Edward to Patricia, may she always remember him and her love would carry him through every storm and—

She shut the book, biting her lip. The common room was suddenly too full, too loud; she needed air.

Without even stopping to think, she hurried out as stealthily as possible, then practically ran to the astronomy tower. She flung open the door and charged up the stairs, her heart pounding and her body trembling with the need to breathe.

Bursting through the door at the top, she began gulping in air as though she'd been under water.

It took her a few minutes for her heart rate to calm. She was just starting to breathe more evenly when the door behind her opened. Shutting her eyes, she willed the intruder to leave. For a moment, she thought it had worked, but then the person began walking toward her.

"Hermione?"

The relief she felt was instant and huge; she knew that voice. "Draco. How did you find me?"

He stepped up close behind her, close enough that she could feel his body heat. Then she felt something warm draped around her shoulders. "That map of yours. Or, Potter's, really. I told you you'd come to regret showing it to me."

Hermione pulled the cloak he'd brought—his own—tighter around her, relishing the warmth and the smell that was uniquely him. "Thank you. I didn't realize—i didn't mean—"

"It's nothing." Draco moved to stand beside her, and he leaned against the stone balcony. He was quiet for a long while. "I never thought I'd come back up here."

She didn't respond; there was nothing to say.

"Are you okay? You dropped this in your rush to leave." He held out the book that had come that morning.

Hermione took it with a heavy sigh. "Thank you."

"Is it a good book?"

She turned it over in her hands, admiring the exquisite detail in the cloth cover. "It's excellent. It's my favorite."

"Then why did it upset you so much? You don't have to tell me, of course. But if you want to talk... I'm all the way up on this bloody tower. Might as well make it worth the trip."

A sharp laugh escaped her lips, borne of shock at his words. When she looked at him, his expression was drawn.

"Have you ever been back up here?"

His jaw clenched. "Only for classes. It's... Not so bad, then. But I feel a little sick every time."

Hermione put a hand on his arm, wishing she could offer him some comfort. He glanced at her hand, then up at her in surprise. There was nothing she could think to say; he had demons of his own to wrestle.

She let him go and leaned on the railing. "It's... my parents. I... I modified their memories before going on the run with Harry, and... I botched it up. They live in Australia and don't remember me at all." It came out as a whisper and her hands were shaking. Not even Harry and Ron knew the full truth. "Healers there say the spell damage is irreversible. I... I can't quite accept that, but what do I really know? Obviously I messed up in the first place, and..." Tears started to fall. She shut her eyes, willing them to stop. Crying in front of Draco was the last thing she'd wanted to do.

It was his turn to comfort her; scooting closer, he took her hand and placed it in his. He didn't lace their fingers, just gave her something to hold onto.

The unexpected touch bolstered her, and she let her mind marvel at how strong his hand felt, how his fingers looked next to hers. But no, those thoughts couldn't be allowed because—

Closing her eyes, she took several deep breaths before she continued. Draco was content, it seemed, to wait for her. He was staring over the grounds, seemingly lost in thought.

"I've mostly been okay. But Christmas without them was... hard. Only I was so busy I never let myself feel it. And then today, this book came." She looked down at it with a sharp pang in her heart.

"Did your Mum read it to you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. She gave me a copy, one just like this edition, and wrote an inscription in it. It was one of my favorite possessions. But after I altered their memories, I didn't think... They got rid of it when they were packing to move to Australia. So now, I'm trying to find where it went. I've sent out letters to used book stores, asking for any copies of this book with an inscription. So far, I've gotten five, none of them the right one. I don't really know why this one upset me so much, except that it was the first one after spending Christmas without them." She shrugged.

The silence that drifted between them was comfortable. Hermione felt immense relief at having unburdened herself of the biggest secret in her life.

Finally, Draco spoke. "Well, that sucks."

Hermione laughed out loud, surprising herself and him. "I'm sorry. That was just… really funny. And so very true. It does suck, doesn't it?"

"It sucks balls."

Tears streamed down her face; of laughter this time rather than grief. Even Draco started to chuckle, unable to resist her infectious laugh. It didn't last long, but it felt really good. "I couldn't have put it better myself."

Draco grinned and took the book from her, studying it carefully. "Pride and Prejudice. What's it about?"

She sighed and took it back from him. "Maybe some other time. Thank you, Draco. I needed to laugh like that."

"Anytime." He gave her a smile, a real one, the kind she so rarely saw from him.

"I'll see you later. I've got to meet Padma about something for Runes." She patted his arm as she turned to go. "Oh, here's your cloak." Slipping out of it, she immediately missed its warmth. He took it from her but didn't put it on, only set it on the stone wall beside him.

"Later, Granger."

"The rest of the year went well. Slowly, bit by bit, Luke became someone I considered a very dear friend. In fact, when I let myself think about it, he was my best friend. Nobody else in my life treated me the way he did."

"Did you fall in love with him?" Rose spoke in a sing-song voice.

Hermione laughed lightly. "Remember, I was still with Mark. He was my boyfriend."

Rose shook her head dismissively. "Everybody knows you don't end up with the first one. Look at Elizabeth! It's a good thing she escaped Wickham, and he was the first boy who caught her eye."

"That may be true, but sometimes you do end up with your first love."

"Is that a hint?" Rose's eyes went wide.

Hermione threw a pillow at Rose. "No, it's not! Merely a fact."

Rose huffed and checked her notes. "Mummy, I really like Luke. At first I didn't think I would, because he had been mean to you, but he really changed, didn't he?"

"Yes, he really did. He became... very special to me."

"So special that you married him?" She waggled her eyebrows.

"Do you want to hear the story or not?" Hermione stood. "I think we need more than popcorn. Come on." Rose showed no signs of being tired yet, and Hermione was enjoying this time with her.

They went to the kitchen, and Hermione looked in the freezer. "Ah, perfect." Pulling something out, she brandished it with a triumphant grin.

Rose's eyes went wide with delight. "Ice cream! Strawberry!"

"My favorite!" Hermione set about and prepared bowls for them both, then carried everything back to the living room.

After taking a few bites, Rose seemed thoughtful. "If Luke isn't my father, why are we hearing so much about him? How does he fit in with you and my father?"

"We're getting to that part. Are you ready to hear it?"

Rose bounced once, then sat cross-legged as she faced her mother on the sofa. "I'm ready. Although I'll be sad to see Luke go."

"As I was saying, we became close friends. A few times over the last months at Hogwarts, he and I would visit used bookstores on the weekend, searching for the book my mother gave me. It was always fun, and we would find something else to do while we were away. Fabulous lunches on the river, museums, even a play once. We didn't find the book, but searching for it with him was... some of my favorite memories of that year."

As her thoughts neared the middle of May, however, her smile faltered.

Rose noticed and put her hand on Hermione's. "What happened, Mummy? Did he break your heart?"

Hermione sighed. "It's... complicated. You see, I met with Ron one weekend in May. He was nearing the end of his Auror training."

Hermione grinned when she saw Ron. She ran from her friends and threw her arms around him. "Oh, Ron! This is such a surprise! What are you doing here?"

His smile was strained, but she thought nothing of it. He looked over her shoulder, no doubt to the group she'd just been walking with, a slight frown on his face.

She turned around and saw Draco watching them, and she felt an odd twist in her gut. Then Draco turned away, flicking his head to get his hair out of his eyes. Ron continued to glare until her friends had disappeared into The Three Broomsticks.

Hermione found his hand and threaded her fingers with his. "I'm so glad you came! I've been wanting to talk to you, actually talk, for weeks now, but it's better in person than through letters."

"What did you want to talk about?" He tugged on her hand, and they started down the street. After a minute, Ron released her and tucked his hands into his pockets.

Thinking nothing of it, Hermione looped her arm through his. "Oh, you know, the future. Our future. I'm so excited! You're almost finished, and I am as well, so soon we'll be able to really start our lives. I'm still planning to join the Ministry, and we'll be able to see each other all the time! I've asked Harry, and he said I could move into Grimmauld Place with him, since, you know, my parents sold their house. Draco said—"

"Oh, yes, please. I can't wait to hear what Draco has to say." The venom in Ron's voice was surprising.

"What's that supposed to mean? He's my friend, you know that. Anyway. He said I should get my own flat and find a roommate. Then Pansy said she would live with me, so... I'm not sure what I should do. I know it's only temporary until you're established in your job and we find a place together. But I really think—"

"Hermione, will you just... shut up for a bleeding second!?"

He'd stopped to deliver his outburst, so Hermione did too, completely stunned. "What?"

Ron threw up his hands. "I don't want that! I don't... I don't want any of this! You're... you're just too much sometimes, Hermione!"

She felt like she'd been slapped in the face. "I'm... too much?"

Ron shook his head. "And I kissed Elaine Crenshaw. You remember her? A Ravenclaw a year ahead of us?" His ire disappeared as he spoke. "Yeah, um, she's in the program too, didn't make it last year but studied hard and... we kissed. Um. Quite a bit, actually."

At Ron's initial confession, it felt like she'd been hit with a Bludger. Then every word felt like a knife.

"Did you sleep with her?" Hermione asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"What? No." He kicked at something on the ground. "We just... kissed. And some over the clothes stuff. But that's not the point, Hermione."

She blinked at him. "Oh? What's the point, then?"

He sighed, letting his shoulders slump. "The point, Hermione, is that... I don't want the same things you want. I want a family—you want a career. You've got your whole life mapped out, for the next twenty years, and I.. I barely know what I want for breakfast most days. How can I be expected to know what I want in twenty years?"

Now she felt like he'd slapped her. "You don't... I mean... You don't know, beyond any doubt, that you'll want me in twenty years?"

He shut his eyes with a grimace. "Hermione—"

"Because in my plan, you were there. Always. No matter what else I wanted, it was always beside you!" She clenched her fists, unwilling to let go of him, of them, without a fight.

"But that's the thing!" He threw up his hands. "You didn't ask me once what I want! I don't want a wife who works all the time and tries to climb the ladder."

She crossed her arms, anger settling in. "You want someone to stay home and give you children, is that it?"

Ron gritted his teeth. "I never said—"

"You didn't have to. I hear it between every word you've said. I hope Elaine is willing to give you what you want, Ron. I'm done. You don't have to worry about my plans anymore; they no longer concern you."

She sent him one final glare and Disapparated, landing just outside the Hogwarts gates. She refused to cry until she was safely tucked in her bedroom, and then once she'd crawled into bed with all her clothes still on—even her shoes—she let them fall.

When she woke, it was dark outside, and she wondered what had roused her. Then she heard a soft knocking on her door, and without thinking, she went to it and opened it a crack.

Draco stood there, his brow furrowed in concern. "Granger? You okay?"

Hermione bit her lip, not sure how much, if anything, she wanted to tell him. But he seemed genuinely worried about her, so she opened the door to let him in, immediately crawling back into her bed and pulling the covers up over her head.

She heard the door shut quietly, then his footsteps as he crossed the room. Finally, she felt the bed dip where he'd sat down. He didn't speak, however, apparently content to wait.

After about fifteen minutes, during which she fought a raging battle in her mind over what she should do, Hermione sat up. A quick glance in the mirror revealed her hair to be a fuzzy mess and her eyes swollen and red. Not that she was trying to impress anyone.

Draco looked her over critically, then unstuck a few stands of her hair from her cheeks.

She groaned miserably and dropped her face in her hands. New tears started to flow, and she sank back down on the bed, curling into herself. Draco said nothing but slowly rubbed her back, staring out the window.

His presence was soothing, and the stream of tears slowed. She rolled onto her back toward him, her movement drawing his attention. Their eyes met and her breath caught. How many times had she shoved down thoughts about him over the last year? How many times had she told herself they could only ever be friends? How many times had she wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to cross the line of friendship and plunge heart first into finding out exactly what he might mean to her? But she had been in a committed relationship and understood the gravity of that. Not once had she been truly tempted to give in to her musings; she had made the choice to be faithful to Ron, even if he hadn't. She couldn't help the way she felt around Draco, couldn't change the fact that he understood her in ways no one else ever had.

But still, she hadn't acted on it.

"Ron's an arse."

Draco laughed, pushing his hair out of his face. "That's nothing new."

She forced a small smile and glanced away. "He's never been perfect. But I thought we had something. Turns out I'm too much for him."

When he didn't speak right away, Hermione looked at him. Draco's jaw was clenched, and one hand was curled into a fist. He met her gaze. "You're not too much, Hermione. Never. He's just way too small for you."

It was the first time he had ever used her given name, and the sound of it on his lips, almost like a wish, made something inside her swell. She pushed herself up to sitting so that now they were close—very close.

Draco sucked in a breath but he didn't back away. His hair hung in his face, partially hiding his eyes, and she desperately wanted to read the mystery of him in their gray depths.

Her heart was pounding as she reached up and hesitantly took the strand of hair between two fingers. It was soft, impossibly so, and his eyes were boring holes through her so hot she felt near to bursting. But she wanted this—had wanted it for so long her whole body thrummed with anticipation.

Sliding on her bum toward him, she boldly took his face in her hands and, silently searching his eyes for hope, she arched up to kiss him.

He responded like a tightly wound spring finally let loose. Snaking his arm around her, he took over completely, licking her lips to coax them open. When their tongues touched he groaned and deftly pressed her down onto the bed.

Hermione hadn't had a proper snog since Christmas with Ron, and this was entirely different. Kissing Ron had always been comfortable and safe; with Draco it felt like he might set her on fire. With Ron, she'd known what to expect, known how he liked to be touched and cared for.

Though she'd thought about Draco more times than was strictly proper for a friend, kissing him was like realizing she'd been dying of thirst and hadn't known she was parched.

Ron was familiar and one of her best friends and what if he was the only one who might have truly loved her?

Then, without warning, Draco stopped abruptly, one hand fisted in her tangled hair, the other splayed wide on her stomach.

"What?"

He shut his eyes in resignation and released her, pushing himself back up to a seated position.

"Fuck."

Hermione pushed up on her elbows. "Draco? What? Why did you stop?"

The look he gave her broke her already shattered heart.

"You're crying."

She touched her cheek and found fresh tears there. "I don't care. Please. Don't stop."

He shut his eyes tight and turned away, hands on his knees gripping so hard his knuckles were white.

"Draco—"

He stood up quickly, his back to her. "I'm not doing this. Not like this." He turned his head slightly, enough that she could see his profile through his long fringe. "I'll... I'll see you tomorrow."

When the door closed behind him, Hermione began to sob, and she didn't stop until exhaustion claimed her.

"Ew, you kissed him? I thought Luke was your friend!" Rose scrunched up her nose. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I like the guy, but I thought he'd end up being the best friend you'd always wonder about. I didn't think he'd be one of your boyfriends."

Hermione chuckled. "Well, the story isn't over yet."

Rose sighed dejectedly. "I know! First, Mark drops out, and now Luke. At this rate, I'm wondering if we've even met my dad yet!" She looked dramatically at her empty ice cream bowl. "I'm going to need some more for this, I can tell."

"I think that's enough." Hermione picked up their bowls and went back to the kitchen.

Rose followed her. "But Mummy, I feel like we're starting over! What did any of that have to do with my dad? I want to hear about him!"

For a moment, Hermione considered dropping the story and just giving Rose an abbreviated version of what happened. But the look in her eyes, that of feeling like a great gift was being bestowed on her, made her drop that idea. Instead, she pulled out the ice cream. "One more serving."

Rose's eyes lit up, and she hurried to help.

"After this, you're brushing your teeth again and getting into bed. I can continue the story there."

Rose nodded eagerly and carried her bowl back to the sofa. "So what happened with Luke after that day? Did you ever talk about your kiss?"

Hermione shook her head sadly. "I wish I could say that we talked and smoothed it all over, but I was a mess, Rose."

When the sun inched its way into her room the next morning, Hermione fought against it, burying herself deeply in the covers. She felt terrible; two men had rejected her in one day, one of whom had been her boyfriend of almost a year, the other her best friend. How was she supposed to look either of them in the eye?

Of course, she had no desire to be around Ron any time soon, but she had to see Draco every single day. How was she supposed to carry on as though she didn't know what it felt like to kiss him? To have his hands on her? To be stretched out under him, feel his weight on her, even if it had only been a few short minutes?

At least it was a Sunday—a small mercy. She would stay in her room all day, nursing her broken heart and wounded pride.

Had she really thrown herself at Draco? She must have been in worse shape than she acknowledged. It was true that she'd struggled with feelings for her new best friend, feelings she hadn't expected or really even welcomed. Ron was the one she'd cared for since third year; Ron was the one she'd thought of every night, the one she'd secretly longed for.

When she'd started experiencing new feelings for Draco, she'd been resistant. Over the year, she'd slowly let the walls around her heart down, slowly allowed him to take up more and more room. It hadn't been a conscious thing, merely a byproduct of their even-deepening friendship. And after all of that effort, after making an almost daily choice not to let her thoughts stray too far in Draco's direction, all it had taken was one weak moment, and she would have let him have her completely.

What must he think of her? Yes, he'd kissed her as well, but then he'd stopped it. He'd closed himself off and left her alone. It hurt.

She buried her face in her pillow and screamed until she dissolved into tears once more. Despite how upset she was with Ron for kissing someone else,

True to her word, she didn't leave her room all day.

Nobody came to ask why.

Rose was crestfallen. "You know, I kept thinking he'd show up again and tell you it was some big mistake. That he wanted to stay best friends and go on book hunts together and stuff. Or that he really and truly loved you and could you maybe try again."

Hermione shook her head sadly. "No. I avoided him. Threw myself into schoolwork. We only had a few weeks before our N.E.W.T.s, anyway. I studied more in those weeks than I ever have in my life."

"He didn't even try to talk to you?"

"He gave up pretty quickly. Got the picture that I didn't want to talk about it when I kept running out of any room he entered." Hermione hid her face in shame. Saying this out loud to her daughter made her realize what an idiot she had been. She'd never even talked to him about what happened! Some Gryffindor she was.

Rose gave her a chastising look. "So you just stopped talking to this guy you really liked?"

"I did. Yes. Then. I ran into him again a few years later, though."

"What? So it is possible that Luke is my dad?" Rose's eyes went wide.

Hermione tried to hide her reaction because she didn't want to give anything away. "But when we saw each other again, I was with someone else."

Rose looked scandalized. "Who?"

"Someone I haven't mentioned yet. I met him at school, too."

Hermione laughed as Rose fell back against the sofa cushions. "Another one? " She sat up and grabbed the clipboard, then crossed off both Mark and Luke. Eyeing the list warily, she picked up her quill. "You haven't really talked about any of these other men since early in the story. My guess is they aren't too significant."

"Go brush your teeth and get into bed. Then we can continue." Hermione suspected that once Rose was in bed, snuggled under the covers with her head on the pillow, she'd fall asleep quickly. After all, it was hours after her usual bedtime. While Rose got ready for bed, Hermione cleaned up the dishes and got ready for bed herself. Then she tucked Rose into bed, fluffing up the pillows the way she liked.

"Mummy, before I hear about this new one, I have another question."

"Of course. Anything."

"What ever happened with Tina? I know she's not part of my dad's story, but I want to know." Rose tapped her chin with the quill.

"Oh! Yes, Tina. Well, after I had my breakdown over my parents after Christmas, I found her in our group room one night with a bottle of Firewhiskey. I was going there to work on something that wasn't due for a while, thinking it would be empty."

Hermione's mind was focused on the Runes assignment she had just been given. Some of the classes didn't lend themselves to big group projects because not everyone took the electives. However, she'd been paired with Kevin Entwhistle, a Hufflepuff who, while nice, wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.

Her plan had been to get a clear idea of what to tell him so he felt like he contributed. The last thing she wanted was for him to potentially ruin her hard work.

She paused, her hand on the door. Merlin, she could be a swot. This assignment, like all of them, was important, and she wanted to do well on it.

It was a few seconds after she entered the group room that she registered someone else's presence. Millicent Bulstrode was in a corner, sitting on the floor, an open, half empty bottle of firewhiskey beside her. She glared at Hermione, then defiantly took another drink.

Firewhiskey was not allowed for students, even those of age. It was technically Hermione's duty to confiscate the bottle and report her.

Hermione sighed and dropped her bag on a desk, then quickly shut and locked the door. She crossed the room, hesitated only a second, then sank to the floor beside her. For a moment, she thought Millicent would leave, but then she proffered the bottle, her expression almost daring Hermione to drink.

She didn't hesitate but took the bottle and tossed it back. The liquid burned on its way down, but Hermione refused to flinch. This moment was about showing strength to Millicent, and she wasn't going to back down.

"I can't believe goody-two-shoes Granger just broke about seven school rules."

Hermione snorted. "If you knew just how many school rules I've broken… well, then you would know."

Millicent barked a laugh and took the bottle back, swallowing another mouthful. "Like you've ever done anything scandalous. What, did you get back to your common room five minutes after curfew once?" The derision in her tone was hard to understand; why did it sound like Millicent hated her when she barely knew her?

"Hm. Let's see. First year I fought a troll in a bathroom, second year I brewed Polyjuice potion in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, third year I snuck out of the castle in order to try and capture a convicted murderer, fourth year… that one was pretty normal, really. Fifth year I defied Umbridge on a regular basis to meet with Harry and some others to learn proper Defense Against the Dark Arts. In sixth I used a Confundus charm to confuse Cormac McLaggan when he tried out for Quidditch Keeper, and in seventh I used Polyjuice Potion to impersonate Bellatrix Lestrange in order to steal something from her vault." She tried to think if she'd missed anything big. "Oh, and I lied to Umbridge and got her attacked by centaurs. She deserved it."

Millicent was gaping at her, slack-jawed. Hermione took the bottle out of her hand and took another drink, then passed it back.

"Of course, I usually like following rules. But sometimes rules are stupid, and you have to break them." She didn't want to think about all the rules she broke to modify her parents' memories.

Millicent spat out the drink she'd just taken. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe this is really you. I can't believe that little Miss Brightest Witch would ever do any of those things."

Hermione leveled her with a hard stare. "You don't know me at all, Millicent. Yet you seem to despise me. Why?"

The other witch squirmed slightly, avoiding meeting Hermione's eye.

When she didn't respond, Hermione spoke. "Even Draco Malfoy has decided I'm not the scum of the earth, bent on ruining his life by existing. As for you, other than our tussle in second year, I don't recall any specific run-ins between us. Yet from the very first day back, you've had it in for me."

"It's funny how you think I've only been targeting you," Millicent said derisively. "You haven't noticed how I don't talk to anyone?"

"I have, actually. Forgive me if I thought you harbored an especial loathing for me, as a muggle-born, specifically. I suppose I'm relieved to hear that you're an equal opportunity hater."

Millicent laughed again, though she tried to stop herself quickly. "What is it with you? Yeah, even Malfoy likes you now. How'd that happen?" She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You put a spell on him?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course not. He just decided to grow up and not continue being an arse all the time. It turns out we have a lot in common, and once he condescended to speak to me, he realized it. We both did."

They were silent for a long while. Millicent kept taking occasional swallows of the fiery liquid, offering the bottle to Hermione every now and then. It felt as though some of the ice might be thawing between them, which she only saw as a good thing for their working relationship within the group.

Just when Hermione was beginning to think nothing more would come from their time together, Millicent cleared her throat.

"My Dad killed my Mum. In front of me and my little sister."

Hermione didn't react, merely turned all of her focus on Millicent.

"It happened in the middle of last year. I was home for the Christmas holidays." She scoffed. "Mum wanted to take my little sister—she was only eight—away, out of England. My father is… not a nice man. He's a raving lunatic at the best of times, the perfect sort of person the Dark Lord would want on his side. Only he wasn't ever smart enough to be considered too useful. But he was… enthusiastic." Millicent shuddered at some memory.

"When Mum tried to take her—Sarah, my sister—Dad lost his mind. They fought, and then he pulled his wand on her. Screamed that she couldn't take her away, that there was nowhere they could hide where he wouldn't find her. My mother stood up to him for the first time in my life, and he killed her for it. I was ready, though. I grabbed Sarah and Apparated to Pansy's house. I stayed with her for the rest of the holiday, and Pansy's parents kept Sarah when I had to go back to Hogwarts. My father continued serving the Dark Lord like nothing had happened. Thankfully, once the war was over, he was arrested. I testified at his trial, and he was locked away in Azkaban, hopefully never to be free again."

Hermione's heart ached at Millicent's story. "I was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange over Easter holidays last year. The only reason she didn't kill me was because Harry and Ron rescued me."

A peaceful silence descended. "Bottle's empty." Millicent turned it upside down, frowning as only a single drop fell from the opening.

"Probably for the best." Hermione took the bottle and Transfigured it into a glass. Then she pulled out a water bottle and poured Millicent a full serving. "Here. Might as well get started on that hangover you're going to have tomorrow."

Millicent groaned, sinking deeper onto the floor. "I don't even care. Not about school, or about what happens to me, I just… what's the point of any of it? I've got nothing to look forward to, no hope—"

"Where's Sarah?"

"What?"

"Your sister. Where is she?"

"Pansy's parents were given legal guardianship over her when my father was arrested. She's there now."

"There's your hope, Millicent. She needs you. She needs you to finish school, get a job, and be her sister. Be her family." Hermione found a bar of chocolate in her bag, as well as a Sober-Up potion. First she gave Millicent the chocolate. "And you're not alone here. You've got Pansy. I bet you've got all of your Slytherin friends, if you wanted them. I know Draco doesn't hate you. And… you've got me. I'll be your friend, if you like."

Millicent looked at her warily. "Oh yeah? Why?"

Hermione shrugged. "Because why not?"

"And from that day on, we were friends."

"Just like that?" Rose asked, incredulous.

Hermione smiled. "Just like that. We're still friends even today."

Rose's eyes widened. "Ooh, so if I could figure out who Tina is, I could figure out who Luke is!"

"Nice try, darling. I've got a lot of friends." Hermione watched as Rose yawned. "I'm going to go and check on something. I'll be back in a few minutes, all right?"

Rose nodded sleepily, her head on her pillow.

Hermione left the room and went into the kitchen. There really wasn't anything pressing she needed to do, she just knew that Rose was likely ready for bed. If she left her alone long enough, she'd fall asleep quickly. After finishing up the dishes, she wiped down the counters and went to straighten the sofa. They'd pulled out blankets and pillows, so she folded them and put them away.

She went to check on her daughter, and as she'd expected, Rose was fast asleep. Hermione quietly covered her with her blanket, turned off the light, and left the room.

She poured herself half a glass of wine and sat down to think. She accidentally sat on the book she'd gotten out earlier, though, and smiled as she ran her hand over the cover. This wasn't the book; she still had yet to find it, though she looked every time she saw a used book store. At this point, so many years after the fact, it was more of a fun, nostalgic activity than anything she really believed would happen.

This one had an inscription:

For My Dearest Molly –
The Jane to my Bingley.
– Love Always, Your Richard.

It was one of her favorite inscriptions, and Hermione had quite a few. Three whole shelves in her library were occupied by various copies of Pride and Prejudice, and all of them had messages inside. She'd inadvertently started a collection during her eighth year by buying used copies that people had written in, and after leaving school, she continued with it. Anytime she came across one, she bought it. It was impractical, but she loved reading the little notes and love letters left by people over the many years since the book was first published.

In her mind, she could clearly see the message her mother had written her, but she couldn't make out the words. She knew she could have used a Pensieve any time to reread it, but she didn't want to. She wanted to wait until she opened a book, saw the press of the blue fountain pen her mother had used, and read the words through her tears.

She replaced the book and turned off the lights. That night, as she lay in bed, her thoughts turned to Draco. She wondered what he was doing tonight. Was he with his wife? Was he married? Did he end up marrying Astoria Greengrass after all, as had been his mother's fervent wish? Did he have a family of his own? Why were her thoughts focused on him, more than anyone else in her past? It had to be because she'd just spent hours talking about him, telling Rose about her friendship with him.

Next she'd be diving into the whirlwind romance that was her relationship with Cassius. She would probably find herself wondering about him after that, though that connection had never touched her heart and soul in the same way that Draco did. Most of all, she hoped Rose wasn't disappointed to find out that her father was Ron, the "boyfriend at the beginning of the story."

But that was silly; Rose adored Ron. Ron was an excellent father. Hermione only wished she had realized they weren't a good match much sooner in her life. For so many years, she simply went forward, allowing the forces around her to keep her going. Rose had just turned eight when Hermione woke up one morning and realized she had no idea who she was anymore. She'd lost herself with Ron, and it wasn't until she admitted that she didn't love him the way she should that she'd been able to start the journey of rediscovering who she was, who she wanted to be.

He'd been understandably devastated, but at the same time, he knew it, too. They were both happier now that they were separated, and the final step was for her to sign the papers.

Hermione sat up.

The papers.

She threw off the covers and rushed to the kitchen where she'd left her bag. It wasn't that she was afraid they were missing; she just didn't want to forget. Her plan was to drop them off with the lawyer after taking Rose to school. Then she'd visit Millie and have a good cry—not sad over the end of her marriage to Ron, but sad that she'd be single once again, no longer part of an "us." It had been a very long time since that had been the case.

Hermione found a quill and a bottle of ink, wet the tip of the quill, and signed her name. She did it without hesitation, signing clearly and carefully everywhere she needed to. Tomorrow when she left the papers with the lawyer, it would be done. Complete. No more Hermione Granger-Weasley; she'd just be Granger once more.

A smile found its way to her lips at the thought; whenever she said her surname in her mind, it always came out in Draco's lazy drawl. Maybe she'd ask him out for coffee, find out what he was up to. If nothing else, she wanted to hear him say her name again, the hard way he ground out the first syllable, the way the second one seemed to float off his lips.

Well. She wouldn't make any rash decisions tonight. Hermione tucked the papers into her bag once more and returned to bed.

She quickly fell asleep.