Chapter 49

The Future

1st July, 1998

These last few weeks had been wonderful for them both. She and Draco had built memories together that they would never forget. Memories he could maybe call on if he ever needed to summon a Patronus. She knew he would never forget – and maybe she wouldn't, either – what it had felt to win the Quidditch Cup against Gryffindor. Ginny had been devastated, and maybe it was wrong not to be rooting for your own house and friend, but she had worn the silver and green hairpins again and her eyes had been glued to Draco throughout the entire match. He knew it, too. He had been looking at her when the Snitch flew up right in front of her. She hadn't even noticed it at first, but he had, and dived so suddenly that in a second everyone else had, too. After that, the Gryffindor common room held a rather morose atmosphere and she had been more than happy to sneak out quietly to the Room of Requirement, where she hoped to find Draco. He was, in fact, there, and they had celebrated his victory together.

"Shouldn't you be with your house?" she had asked, secretly pleased.

"I've been," he had said quietly. "But you're the one I wanted to celebrate with."

She didn't think she had ever, in all her life, cared so much about a Quidditch match. Or that she would ever again. It hadn't really been about the Quidditch, though.

Memories...

He was riding with the Slytherins now, and she had found a carriage by herself. She wanted to be alone for these last few hours on the train before the real end of her Hogwarts days. She had obtained a position at the Ministry and Os on all her NEWTs. Draco had passed all his subjects with at least an Acceptable, and Os in Potions, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts. She couldn't fathom how, after the huge fine his family had had to pay, they still had enough money to provide for their son without his looking for a job, but she had decided it wasn't any of her business. There would always be things left unsaid between them, because that was the only way they could work. It was also the reason they could never work.

So she was alone in the train compartment now, looking out the window, watching the landscape fly past. That was all she had done for the hours of train ride, just look out the window. She had had to blink back tears when they left the Hogsmeade station as the thought of never making this trip again. Even now, her throat felt slightly choked. She didn't know if it was because the year was over, and all the pressure and the feeling of loss were coming back, and she had chosen to be alone which only made it easier to dwell on dark thoughts; or because she would never see Hogwarts again. Or Draco.

She would never speak to him again.

The trees outside her window finally started slowing down, and she looked away. When the train stilled to a complete stop, she stood up and levitated her trunk down. And when she turned around to face the compartment door, she stopped in her tracks. Draco was there, changed out of his school robes and into almost-identical black ones, except these had silver lining around the cuffs. He was leaning against the door, which was closed behind him (why hadn't she heard him come in?), and he was watching her with a warmth in his eyes she had never seen before.

"What are you doing here?"

"I've come to say good-bye," he said, and stepped closer. He was so close she could not only hear but feel him breathing, feel the ghostly warmth of his breath over her face. "And thank you. I won't forget this."

His voice was heated, and she knew he was talking about this, this year as well as this, this moment.

"You won't even try to let us last, will you?" she murmured.

"I can't," he said softly. "You know we can't."

"But why?" She wished she didn't sound so desperate; her voice was choked and managed to break on those two words.

"I would if I could," he said. "You know I would. Look..."

"You're scared."

"Yes, I'm scared. I'm not like you. I'm not a Gryffindor. I can't just... I can't go ahead with this. One of us has to be rational, and for once it's going to be me. I won't rush into this blindly. I've thought it through, and so have you, I know you have, and we both agree on this."

"Even if I don't want to?"

"Especially if you don't want to."

"I wish..." she began, and stopped.

"What do you wish, Hermione?" he asked.

"I wish I knew," she said, "what would have happened if we had tried."

He was silent for a long, long time. Then: "Have you heard of 'wishing upon a star'?"

"Yes," she said, startled. "What –"

"Next time you look up at the sky," he interrupted her, "and it's a starry night, wish as hard as you can on a star, any star. I want you to look at it and remember – and remember the time we looked at the stars together, and I showed you my constellation. And you'll know, then, that I'm thinking of you. All right?" He didn't let her answer. "As for your wish – you do know. You know what would have happened. But don't think about it. Forget it. Forget all that – just think about you, and me, right now. Let the rest go like you taught me to let my past go."

And then suddenly his lips were on hers, softly, not taking but giving, returning all the gentleness she had given him this past year. He tasted like salt and the sea, but maybe it was only her own tears running down her face. She could feel the desperation behind the kiss as well as the gratefulness, and she opened up her mouth to him, deepening the kiss, savouring it, knowing it would be their last.

He pulled away, and she looked at him, feeling sort of dazed.

He planted one more infinitely gentle kiss on her forehead and smiled. "Good-bye, Granger."

"Good-bye, Draco," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

And then he was gone, and this time it was really over.

Just like that.

When she stepped off the train, alone, they were all there. The Weasleys. Even Bill and Fleur, and Percy and Audrey. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Luna run forward, and George grab her around the waist and hug her. They stood like that, his chin resting on the top of her head, her hand on his chest, but Hermione was too busy staring at someone else to be surprised.

Ron was there, standing beside Harry, looking directly at her. She felt her heart race as he slowly walked over to her; Ginny suddenly left her side.

"Hey," he said with a grin that sent her heart leaping in her throat. "How was it? We missed you."

He hadn't written once. She hadn't thought about him – really thought about him – for weeks. But there, and then, suddenly, everything she had once felt for him came rushing back. He was smiling, his eyes were sparkling, and his tone was playful. He had – somehow – healed. And that realisation was enough to make her heart leap in her throat with joy. Beside him, Harry was looking more relaxed than she had seen him in months. She felt a surge of affection for them both and had to blink hard to keep the tears from falling. Her best friends had come back to her at last.

"It was fine," she said. "Better than fine."

"You always did love school."

He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her close to him. She felt no spark, no warmth, but the contact was oddly comforting.

"Did everyone come just for us?" she asked, looking around.

"Never mind them," he whispered, his mouth suddenly inches from her ear. "I came just for you."

"Ginny's your sister."

"And you're my girlfriend," he said, taking her hand in his free one and leaning his forehead against hers. "Or you will be, one day, when you're ready. That is – if you still want to be." In an even lower voice, he added, "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," she said, and found that she sincerely believed it. When had that happened? "I couldn't have done it back then, either."

Back then... was it really only a year ago? It seemed so far away, now.

"So..." He smiled at her. "Is it too late... or d'you think we can give it a try? I'm ready now."

"So am I."

That was when he kissed her, his lips descending on her forehead softly, in the most gentle kiss she had ever received. It wasn't fire, it wasn't heat. It was a gift, an apology, a promise of more to come. It was nothing like the more passionate kiss they had shared during the Final Battle. It was a fresh start.

George wolf-whistled, and she dimly heard calls of "Finally!" and "Took you long enough, mate!" She recognised Harry's laughter, and Ginny was saying something, too. Even when she pulled away to shake her head at them, she couldn't erase the smile off her face.

It had been a long year. Sometimes fun, sometimes difficult, and definitely full of surprises. But that year was over now. It was time to look forward to the future.

She looked at her hand in Ron's and said, more to the world than to herself, "Let's do this."

Ron smiled down at her and echoed her words, "Yeah, let's do this."

That night, the stars shone bright against the black sky. As bright as their future.