Author's Note: Thanks and elaborate bouquets go to all those who have stuck with me on this. There was a significant amount of time between chapters, so I'm sorry for all that hassle. Chapter 9 was put up in place of an Author's Note, but that didn't show up as an update – probably lost me some readers. Anyway, special salutations go to Kou Shun'u and Jeannette, who read my e-mail and reviewed chapter 9. Thanks, guys. I was beginning to think I'd lost my mind.
So, without further ado – no with the chapter.
Chapter Ten – Epilogue"Essentially, though, you'd rather sleep with Voldemort than my dad, right?"
"Seriously, we're still having this conversation?"
"We wouldn't be if you'd just answer the bloody question."
"No way."
"Oh, come on."
"Not a chance."
"Not even for me? To save me from intense psychological trauma – which I would surely get, by the way, if I happened to imagine you and my dad – ow!"
"You bloody deserved it. Now never talk about that again."
"What, you and my dad – what are you doing? Hermione, put it down, and no-one needs to get hurt… put it down! No! Nooooo!"
Harry burst into the infirmary to find Draco writhing in agony on his bed. He grinned. "Madame Pomfrey's going to kill you if she comes in right now."
Hermione ceased her death-by-tickling rampage, and dropped the feather. Draco, still breathing hard and squirming, gasped and said, "I might be dead already."
They were at Hogwarts. Term had not yet started, but Dumbledore had agreed that, in light of their ordeal, perhaps it would be better for them to stay at the castle anyway. For Harry, Ron and Ginny, this was wonderful; they had the run of the whole building, and were making the most of it. But Hermione and Draco had been relegated to the infirmary since their arrival three days ago on account of 'the considerable stress you have endured over the past five years, but particularly this summer', according to Dumbledore.
In Harry's opinion, this was just what the pair needed: some time alone, in peace, to sort things out between them. But he had it on good authority – Ginny's, to be precise – that 'things' were not moving along as they should be.
However, something had arrived that morning that would hopefully make his job a lot easier. He held up a large, extravagant bouquet of flowers and presented them to Hermione. "Arrived this morning via Special Delivery," he said. "The postmark is Bulgarian." And with that, he winked, and left the room.
* * *
Hermione stared at the flowers, carefully avoiding Draco's eyes. "From Viktor, I suppose?" he spat.
"Yes, they are," she said, torn between defending Viktor and reassuring Draco that she was just friend with him. "Um… nice, aren't they?"
He sniffed. "If you want to die of a pollen overdose."
"Oh, leave it," she snapped. "It was a lovely gesture."
"The next thing you know, he'll be over here, kissing your hand and proposing marriage. And you'd think that was 'a lovely gesture', too."
"And what if I did?" she retorted furiously, no longer bothering to avoid his eyes. On the contrary, she was almost staring him down now, sending death glares over to his bed.
"Well, I'm sure it'd be a wonderful marriage," he sneered. "Idiot kids – not even your intelligence can make up for his complete lack of brain cells – running around flinging themselves at shiny things. A bunch of relatives you don't understand. And it rains in Bulgaria, you know."
"It rains here." She was getting angrier with everything that he said. "And it's not like I understand your parents either, and you're a seeker – maybe our kids would throw themselves at shiny things, too."
He stared at her, an odd look passing across his face. "At least I'd understand you properly. I'd pronounce your name right. I wouldn't need everything explained to me using Quidditch metaphors. I'd take care of you."
"How do you know he wouldn't?"
"Because he doesn't love you like…" he trailed off, and stared at his feet.
"Like?" she whispered.
"You know."
"Do I?" She sighed sadly. "Sometimes I don't think I do. And now that our bond's gone, I… I wonder if we'll ever be the same again."
Draco shook his head, and carefully got out of bed. "Nothing will ever be the same again," he said solemnly, coming to stand by her bed.
She couldn't help the small sob that escaped from her throat. "Why, though? Why does it have to change? We had such a wonderful friendship before, Draco, and-"
He took her hand. "It has to change, Hermione. I mean, you can't honestly say that we could go back to the way things were before if I did this…"
And he kissed her. Surprise made her gasp into his mouth; she felt him grin as he pressed his lips harder against hers. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard fireworks going off somewhere… or was that in her head? His kisses were so warm and soft, and gentle; for all his attitudes over the years, she would have thought he'd be quite a… a cold kisser. Her arms moved up to encircle his neck. For now, she had no intention of letting him go…
* * *
Ginny took one peek at what was going on in the infirmary, gave a silent whoop of joy, and took off down the corridor at a run. She found Harry and Ron playing wizard's chess on the staircase ("Because we could," explained Harry when she asked him later). "It has happened," she said dramatically, but only Harry seemed to understand.
"You're joking," he said, and stood up.
"What's going on?" asked Ron.
"Draco and Hermione came to their senses," Ginny informed him, and promtle wished she hadn't when she saw Ron's face.
"Um…" Harry tried to salvage the situation. "How about some Quidditch, eh, Ron?"
Ron brightened slightly. "OK. But no bludgers."
"Fine by me."
Ginny grinned and gave Harry a thumbs-up as he and Ron started down the stairs; Harry tossed a wink in her direction.
"So," Ron wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "you and Ginny, eh?"
Harry just smiled.
* * *
Some time later, Draco and Hermione were both lying, curled up, on Draco's bed. Draco was stroking her hair, occasionally pressing kisses to her neck and making her laugh.
She shifted slightly to look at him. "21st of August, 2063. Seems ages away, doesn't it?"
He chuckled. "That's because it is." His face grew serious. "I can think of one thing we should have asked them."
"What's that?"
"Her surname."
She stared at him, comprehension dawning. "Oh. Yes, I-I suppose that would have been a good question. Don't imagine they'd have told us, though." She smiled softly. "Besides, who's to say she wasn't a true 21st-Century woman, and kept her own name?"
He laughed, and kissed her quickly on the mouth. "Is that a threat?"
"Is that a proposal?" she countered.
"Depends on what your answer's going to be."
She hopped off the bed and he whined slightly at the loss of contact. "I won't marry a man who doesn't let me have a pet."
Draco sat up abruptly. "A pet? Hermione, you know it'll only shed hairs all over the house, and what if our kids are asthmatic?" He groaned when he saw her attractive pout. "OK, fine. But no hippogriffs. Let's get a nice little puppy, or something."
"Yes!" She thrust her fist into the air in triumph.
"So you'll marry me, then?"
She rolled her eyes. "As if I'd turn you down."
The room was silent for a while as they indulged in a spot of fierce, passion-filled kissing.
Hermione pulled away. "What are we going to do about Bob?"
Bob was the name they had given to the glowing jar. They hadn't really discussed what they were going to do with it.
Draco considered it. "I suppose we'll have to use it. Maybe Dumbledore wants some landscaping done, or I could re-model the manor…" He gasped suddenly. "That's it! Of course! Hermione – I will build our house for us. From scratch."
A cold sense of dread washed over Hermione as she considered the possibilities. Draco impaled upon a plank of wood. Draco buried under the rubble of an unstable house. "Not a chance," she declared. "I'm giving Bob to Dumbledore for safe-keeping. Maybe he can use it to make Professor Flitwick grow, or something…"
"Or I could use it to make a sparkly diamond ring for you," said her future husband.
She grinned widely. "Or that."
"Glad we sorted that out. Now, Mrs Draco Malfoy-to-be, get over here and kiss me."
She was more than happy to comply.
The EndAuthor's Note: I know what you're going to say – the marriage thing was too soon. I know. I don't know how that got in there, but it just felt right for the scene. They'll be having a long engagement, I promise you that. In the meantime, I may do a one-shot sequel because I wanted to write about the world's reaction to Voldemort's defeat, and the school's reaction to Draco and Hermione. Unfortunately, it didn't feel right for this chapter, and I wanted to finish here. So, you know… there's a possibility. Anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me on this. I know it's over, but I'd love it if you could review anyway. Thanks.