AN: I'm writing fast here. Most probably to make up for that period of illiteracy. Haha.

Disclaimer: I'm just screwing around with J.K. Rowling's characters. Most especially with Draco… mmm. *blinks* Sorry, got carried away. I don't own anything here except the plot and all unfamiliar nouns you may come across.

Dedicated to: Whoever wants to review!

Chapter Eleven: Healing

She was no longer wrestling with the grief,

but could sit down with it as a lasting companion

and make it a sharer in her thoughts.

- George Eliot

Hermione could remember that day, but vaguely. It was sometime in July, wasn't it? She remembered the sour feeling of fear and guilt at the back of her throat, the horror of what she was made to do… and with a sad, wrenching feeling in her stomach, she remembered their last kiss.

She never visited Draco in Azkaban. She felt that she was… emotionally unprepared.

But a year had come and gone, and still, the Visitors registry outside the forbidding walls of Azkaban remained unsigned with Hermione's name. In fact, it remained completely unsigned. After all, who wanted to visit these pathetic creatures, the outcasts of society, the ones left for dead, the ones forgotten by the outside world.

Hermione's memory of that day faded out slowly near the end, like the way some songs end, fading until you have to strain your ears to catch the music, without realizing that the music was already gone.

She remembered Sealing the cell door, as Draco watched helplessly from behind the bars. She remembered the haunted look in his eyes as he reached out and called to her, pleading with her to take him back to sanity, to restore his consciousness… to let him love again. He was calling for his innocence, screaming out against the lies that put him there in the first place.

Draco had looked into her eyes and called her his "G.I. Jane", restoring fond, if not so welcome, memories of the time she had introduced him to the Muggle heroine. He had stretched out his hand to her, and she obscurely remembered thinking that "Only Draco could manage to look so beautiful in prison robes" before whispering her last farewell, and her last profession of love, before running for the door like the coward that she was.

Her memory dims here. The blind rush through the stone corridors of the dreadful place, on top of all her grief, and her anger, and bewilderment, was Draco's voice, calling to her, innocently asking her why she put him in there, and could she let him out because it was time for dinner.

How her heart had ached at that. Draco never missed dinner. It was his favorite meal of the day, he always told her. He wanted good food for dinner, it was a Malfoy tradition.

It pained her to know that Draco was still sane. She knew it would have been so much easier if he had thrown himself at the bars, screamed at her to let him the bloody fucking hell out, growled curses at her, and thrown a tantrum, ending with seclusion and a Stunner.

But no. He had to go and ask for his dinner.

It was too heartbreaking. The sad innocence in those dim grey eyes, the strange acceptance, reluctant admittance that… yes, he was behind bars. And yes, he was going to stay there forevermore.

And yes, he still loved her.

~*~

***June 11, 2010***

Hermione shuddered, drawing her hand back across her eyes. The memories were still there, but time had mellowed the pain, easing it into a slow ache. She glanced around the apartment she called home, taking comfort in the little articles that reminded her of the life she had begun. 'Starting over." she called it.

"Would you like another cup of tea, Hermione?" he called from the kitchen. Hermione smiled slightly. "Yes… thank you." He came out, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel, carrying two cups in his hands. He set them down in front of her and poured out the tea, adding a slice of lemon.

Hermione smiled at him, and he nodded back, disappearing into the kitchen.

A sip of the tea. Hermione made a face. Jasmine. She hated this tea. Draco used to brew me Earl Grey… she stopped. Thinking about Draco was like stabbing herself in the heart.

"So, Hermione, what are you planning to do on your birthday?"

Hermione started. She stared up at the calendar. Her birthday… in 10 days…

"Oh, I don't know, Harry… what do you think we should do?"

***June 21, 2010***

Miles away, on an Unplottable piece of island, in the depths of the strongest wizard prison history has ever created, a young man named Draco Malfoy woke with a start.

"Hermione." he whispered. "Happy birthday."

~*~

"Hermione!" he yelled. "Happy birthday!" Ron enveloped Hermione in a brotherly hug. Hermione's eyes grew wide with shock. "You Apparated all the way here?! For my birthday?! Oh, Ron! Parvati!" Parvati walked in, kissed Hermione on the cheek, handed her a gift-wrapped present, and exclaimed over her Soul-Keeper, all in one blow.

Berna, who was still in a relationship with Harry, appeared as well, looking tired and pale, but still lively enough to set the table and hang around for the better part of the party.

Harry, who was sitting on the couch, stood up and grinned at Ron, then almost immediately sat down again and began to nurse his glass of Cabaret. Ron grinned back and disappeared into the kitchen to prepare what Hermione called "the party victuals."

~*~

"What do you like, peanuts or walnuts?" Ron called from the kitchen. Hermione looked up from her game of wizard chess with Parvati, who seemed to have been taking tutorials from Ron. "Umm… it doesn't really make a difference."

"Oh, yes it does! Peanuts have a finer, saltier taste, while walnuts tend towards more full-bodied…" Ron continued to ramble, and loud crashes were heard from behind the closed kitchen door. Parvati smiled at Hermione. "Oh, you got him going. Just say peanuts. Its safer." And with a conspiratorial wink, she returned to the game.

Berna stood up, smiled at Hermione, and announced that she was leaving… due to certain circumstances. Harry glanced up at her, and wordlessly accompanied her to the door, where they could be seen snogging like the world was ending.

Hermione sighed, smiling.

~*~

He stared out the barred window, cursing the Darkening Charm that blocked the moonlight from shining in. He looked up at the stars, reminiscing about that night, which seemed like ages ago, when he had asked her a riddle and proposed to her at the same time.

He knew she'd like it that way.

Draco leaned his head against the cold stone. "If you only knew… Hermione…" he whispered in a voice cracked from disuse. "You're the only thing keeping me alive."

~*~

Hermione lay back on the couch and lazily flicked a candy wrapper off the floor and into the trashcan with a clever Banishing Charm. Behind her, Harry laughed softly. "Bravo. The cleaning-up crew has arrived." Hermione smiled a tired sort of smile. "Oh, shut up and help me clean up."

Silence. Then two hands, warm and gentle, rested themselves on her shoulders, and began to knead, ever so gently. "Mmm…" Hermione closed her eyes and let Harry massage her shoulders, reveling in the simple pleasure. "That feels…" His hands moved up her neck, and Hermione leaned forward. Into her hair, gently stroking her fine facial bones.

Hermione's eyes flew open. "Harry…" she whispered. Unexpectedly, in a slow, deliberate gesture that left her heart pounding, Harry leaned forward and kissed her on the neck, right below her ear. "Harry… don't…" she weakly protested, but the apple wine and the festivities had left her tired and quite drunk, a combination dangerous to deal with. "Ron and Parvati…" she whispered, trying vainly to pull away, but Harry held her with a grip gentle, but firm.

"They're asleep… upstairs…" Harry whispered, and the warmth of his mouth sent electric shivers down her spine. "Berna…" the clarity of that thought almost made Hermione shove Harry away, but Harry did something incredibly interesting to her ear, and her protest became a long, drawn-out sigh of drunken pleasure. His mouth moved down her neck, and Hermione felt her knees, and her resolve go weak.

With dazed, blurry, and half-closed eyes, she watched as he moved in front of her, sitting across her on the couch, removing his glasses, placing them on the table, and fixing her with a stare so intense, that Hermione was left speechless.

Finally, she whispered. "I'm drunk." He grinned. "And I'm Harry." She stared at him, then leaned forward, pressing her lips to his with an urgency that startled even her. She felt his lips part under hers, heard her own breathing grow ragged and short, marveled at the burning desire kindled inside her with one kiss…

The night was theirs for the taking.

~*~

Ron was startled awake later that evening. He shook his wife awake as well, motioning for her to be silent. Parvati rubbed her eyes and listened hard. A slow blush crept over her cheeks as she recognized the noises coming from downstairs. Ron stared at her, one eyebrow raised. "That isn't what I think it is, is it, Parvati?"

"Wait, Ron… should Hermione be… doing that?" Parvati sounded worried. "Why not?" Ron simply sounded sleepy. "I mean, there was the whole Draco business…" Parvati tried to block out the moans traveling up the staircase and into their ears. Ron shrugged it off. "Oh, Harry wants a little fun, and Draco's… not… here."

Parvati shook her head at her sleeping husband, and closed her eyes and went to sleep as well, thinking: It's really none of my business anyway.

~*~

But that certainly didn't seem like "a little fun." Within two weeks, Harry had moved into Hermione's apartment, despite Berna's half-hearted protests. Hermione seemed quite happy with that decision, despite the controversy that began to arise.

~*~

"Hermione! Will you look at this?!" Ginny Weasley, her face red enough to match her hair, brandished the latest Daily Skeeter Screamer under Hermione's nose. Hermione took it from her, and stared disbelievingly at the twelve-inch high headline.

The Playboy-Who-Lived.

"Are you letting that… that cow get away with that?" Ginny fumed, hands on her hips. "She has absolutely no right to butt in on your private life like that…" she continued to rant, much to the detriment of the bystanders.

Hermione waited until Ginny cooled off, and she calmly began to explain that Harry had moved in with her only as a friend, and as a help around the house. "Look at that… It seems that the recently married Hermione Granger Malfoy has found another boytoy, right after the incarceration of her husband, the infamous Death Eater and Voldemort's heir, Draco Malfoy."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed, and Ginny smiled faintly.

"How dare she talk about Draco like that!" Ginny reread the article. "Death Eater… Voldemort's heir… Voldemort's been dead all…" Ginny broke off at the closed look that had appeared on Hermione's face. "I'm sorry… about this whole Draco business…"

Hermione nodded, and smiled as Ginny walked away.

She walked home as well, clutching the crystal pendant around her neck.