"The last thing I remember was looking behind me with the little mirror I had, and seeing this huge pair of bright yellow eyes. I didn't even have time to be afraid, because all that there was after that was black. The next thing I know, I was waking up in the hospital wing, with Madam Pomfrey standing over me, and Dumbledore standing a little ways off, with his usual grin in place, and his eyes twinkling even brighter than before."

"So what happened? How did they get rid of the basilisk?" Asked Michael, hooked on the story.

"Well, I woke up and Dumbledore told me that they had solved the problem. Harry had, actually. I was so excited that as soon as I found out that I could go, I jumped up to go find Harry and Ron so that they could tell me all about it. And they did." Hermione said, smiling for old time's sake.

"So what did happen, Mum?"

"You'll have to ask Uncle Harry for the answer to that, m'dear!"

"Aw Mum! That's not—"

"Look! We're here! Get your stuff together, sweetheart."

"All right, but don't call me sweetheart. That's not cool!" he protested.

"Who says it's not cool?"

"Uncle Harry made me promise not to tell you who said that it's not cool," he replied, his pride swelling with the belief that he had kept his godfather's confidence.

"Ah, I see. I'll try not to say it anymore then, baby."

"Mum!"

"What, darling?"

"Stop that!"

"Stop what, dear? I didn't call you sweetheart just like you asked me."

"Good evening, Hermione. I'm glad you've made it here safe." Dumbledore greeted her as she walked into the Entrance Hall.

"Professor Dumbledore! Oh, it's so good to see you!"

"Oh why thank you. It's very good to see you too, my dear. But please, I insist, do not call me Professor. You are not a student any longer. Call me Albus," said the strange old man.

"Oh, I couldn't do that. It sounds so strange. You always have and will be my dear professor. Have you seen Michael, yet? He's gotten quite grown up. Come along, Michael!" she called. Her son was currently talking to some third year girl who he had just made friends with. Apparently she thought he was cutest little boy she had ever met.

"Coming, Mum!" he called, trotting over to see what his mother had wanted. The atmosphere was wearing off on him, and he seemed to be quite excited.

"Say hello to Professor Dumbledore. Remember I told you about him on the train?" He looked shyly towards the Headmaster and grinned.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. Welcome to Hogwarts!" Dumbledore said. He had won the boy over immediately, Hermione knew. His face split into a grin and he replied with an excited 'hello.'

The next day, before classes were to start, Hermione stood outside the Great Hall with Dumbledore and her son. "Okay, sweetie, Professor Dumbledore is going to show you around the castle while I have my first class or two. I'll see you in a couple of hours okay? Have fun!" She said, ready to head towards her first class. She was very nervous about teaching. She wasn't sure if she would be able to do it very well. She wondered if she'd be intimidating like Professor McGonagall, or bullied around like Professor Trelawney was. She was hoping that her teaching tactics would be somewhat like Professor Lupin's though. There wasn't a good student who disliked him. She looked up to him very much.

She could already tell that whispers were going around school amongst the students, and even the professors. Hermione Granger (now Hermione Malfoy) was finally back at Hogwarts. Just as Ginny said, they knew they couldn't keep her away if they tried. Most students were thrilled about the novice. It wasn't every day that a new professor happened to be the most famous witch in the entire wizarding world, apart from Ginny Potter of course.

However, some students, mainly Slytherins, were apprehensive about her. They knew that past people in their house hadn't treated her very well. Actually, to put it bluntly, they treated her like dirt; like mud to be exact. They only hoped that she didn't favor Gryffindor and torture Slytherin like some teachers did.

"Good morning, class. Please, come in," she said. She had stayed up very late last night making sure her classroom was just right, and she still wasn't completely satisfied. She knew from her past experiences that the way a teacher decorates a classroom makes a very big impression, and can affect said teacher for the rest of the year. The window shades, she had decided, would always be open. Dark classrooms make students sleepy, thus making it hard for them to pay attention. She put up posters with various rates, pictures displaying different actions, anything you could thing of that had to deal with teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Yes, she had come back to Hogwarts to teach none other than that infamous subject. The last teacher had taught for the last three years. Evidently, the curse had been broken. But she had decided that teaching was not her forte, and so she quit at the end of the year. People were still reluctant to teach the subject, which made it hard for the Headmaster to find teachers. He knew, however, that Hermione Granger could not let a challenge go without giving it her very best shot. He was delighted to hear that this hadn't changed through the many tragedies she had faced in her young life.

"Good morning, good morning," she said.

"Good morning, Professor Malfoy," they all chanted in unison. She was rather taken aback by the formality.

"Oh, goodness, who taught you to do that?" One very studious looking boy (named Stewart she had later found out) spoke up and said that they were required to say that every morning with the last Defense Professor or they would all have to write lines. "Well that's silly," she had said. "I don't need you all to say 'good morning' to me to make me feel important. You don't have to say that to me, anymore, unless you so desire." The students all looked at their friends and grinned. The fifth year class of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw could already tell that they would like her as a professor.

"Anyways, as you all know, my name is Professor Malfoy. However, I do not know any of your names. Let's start in the back (I hate how every teacher starts in the front). You there, what's your name, sweetheart?"

"I'm Jenna, Jenna Thompson. Pleased to meet you, Professor Malfoy."

"As am I, Miss Thompson…"

The first day followed exactly as so. She took time to first get to know her students. Their reaction to Michael was very good, also. None of them were too terribly distracted by him, and none of them seemed to hate him either.

Michael was having the time of his life. He received the attention given to him in stride, and loved every moment of it. She was afraid that after a while, this might not be too good for his character. But let him have fun now, she reflected.

The second day she concentrated on figuring out what they already knew, that way she would know what she needed to teach them.

On the third day, she had finally started teaching them. She was content with the amount they had already learned, but would have liked it more if they had learned additional information. She would have to work really hard to get them up to speed. But that was a challenge to her; one she would face head on, like every other one thrown her way. Hermione Malfoy was not discouraged in the slightest.

The first week went amazingly well. There were few students who tested her authority. Most of them realized that she would give them all the privileges they needed, and quite a few that they wanted. She did tell them, however, that the minute that they abused their privileges, they would be taken away. It had scared them enough to obey her. For now at least.

Saturday night she went up to the astronomy tower to gaze at the stars. It would take her a while, she realized, to get used to all the privileges she received as a teacher. In seventh year she began going to the astronomy tower to think; sometimes with someone else, but most generally by herself. It was her escape, her way of regenerating to prepare herself for the world.

She thought about her students, and how she was already picking up on their personality. Little Emily Rose, a second year, was a timid little girl. She worked hard and always did her schoolwork, yet she wasn't a know-it-all like Hermione had been. She could tell that already she was becoming a dependable friend to her housemates, and even to those who weren't in her house or were even really nice to her at all. Emily Rose had a big heart, she had decided.

Then there was Morgan Willey. She was in her sixth year. Morgan would most likely test her patience more than any other student in that particular class. She was loud and outspoken, yet popular and generally nice. Morgan was more interested in boys and appearances, unfortunately, than school. Morgan was a challenge also.

There was also a popular boy. His name was Aaron Miller. Aaron Miller made Hermione Malfoy more nervous than any other student, and sometimes any other person in general. He was a seventh year boy. One would categorize him as tall, dark, and handsome. This wasn't what made Hermione nervous though. He had an aura about him; an aura that reminded her of Draco. He liked people to think that he was a bad boy, and that he got whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He was popular with the ladies. He somehow showed absolutely no interest in them, while still managing to charm them. At first sight, you would think that he was one to slack off in school. But Hermione had soon realized that he was an excellent student, who always did his best. He did make it look like he never tried, but Hermione was sure he studied a lot. There was no other explanation as to why he was so smart and could answer every question she asked him about the subjects they were learning.

Initially, Hermione wasn't sure why he made her so nervous. People like that had never intimidated her before. But then again, she had never met someone like Draco before. She didn't meet new people often. Not because she was unsociable, she just didn't. Aaron Miller's personality scared her the most, because he reminded her of Draco. Every time she saw him, it was like a picture of all her demons was being displayed to her; demons that she was too afraid to fight, and so pushed them away from her. She pushed them in any direction she could, putting them under the bed, or that closet that she never seemed to use. But now she was being forced to face them on an even bigger scale.

The chief reason that she didn't accept the teaching job at Hogwarts right off was because she was afraid to face the memories. She knew that walking the halls, enjoying the feasts, teaching the classes, anything and everything would remind her of him. She was scared. More scared than she ever was of Voldemort. It was hard enough in Malfoy Manor, but to be in the very place where the memories began is what was slowly killing her very soul.

Now, more than any other time in about five and a half years, she wished that her beloved husband and best friend would come back to her. Every time she told herself that it was as impossible as Neville Longbottom falling in love with Pansy Parkinson, the hope grew in her heart more and more, until she didn't have a moment that she no longer longed to see his face, to hear his voice, and to feel his hand in hers. Memories flashed back to her.

They were running up the stairs to the astronomy tower. She was running away because of his claims that he was going to tickle her senseless. She made fun of his old way of styling his hair. 'No one makes fun of Draco Malfoy,' he had said. She ran all the way up, not noticing the ache in her legs or the shortness of her breath because she was so happy. When she reached the top, she realized that she had reached a dead end.

He wasn't far behind, and when he made it all the way up he had stopped running and started walking towards her slowly, like a predator about to devour his prey. Suddenly, he tackled her, sending her to the ground, while at the same time making sure she didn't get hurt. He looked into her eyes, and then started tickling her. She laughed for what seemed like hours to her. Both had big grins on their faces. 'Stop, Draco! You win! You win! Your hair didn't look stupid when you were younger, okay!' He stopped tickling her and grabbed her hands, making sure she wouldn't try anything back.

Hermione saw his expression change as he looked at her. He put her hands above her head and interlocked their fingers. He was gazing at her with such adoration, such love, that all she could do was stare back and wonder what he was thinking about. And then he kissed her. Nothing else seemed to matter to either one anymore. They were lost in the world of each other, and all that was important was that one kiss.

By the time she had finished reliving her memory, Hermione was sitting on the ground crying; crying for the tragedies of the past, and crying for the burdens of the future. She was tired of living this life, of facing her problems. She was tired of missing Draco, and she felt like she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't handle him being gone from her. She was sick of it and she wanted it to end. Yet in her heart, she knew that there was nothing she could do about it but continue her struggle in moving on. Her heart also knew that she would never move on. She would never give up.

After a while, she calmed herself down and headed back to her room, her determination restored to be the mother, friend, and now professor, that she was needed to be.

The next day was happily received by a visit from the Potters. They surprised her, saying that it had been too long since they had seen each other, and that they missed her already. Hermione laughed and said she missed them too. Most of the day was spent in remembrance of their days as students. At one point, Harry had taken Michael out to the Quidditch pitch, in hopes to maybe see a team playing. Harry wanted Michael to become a fan early. This left Hermione and Ginny to start their own conversation without them.

"So how have you really been doing?" Ginny asked. Hermione answered honestly, telling her how hard it was to be there, and how much she missed Draco.

"It's like I have to deal with everything all over again. Like all of the progress I've made has been completely undone, and all my old feelings and emotions have doubly returned. I'm scared, Ginny."

"I'm sure you are. But you're so brave, Hermione. And you're doing such a good job of raising Michael," Ginny said, trying to offer at least a little comfort.

"Thank you. It means a lot to me, it really does. Sometimes I wish I could just move on from Draco. He'll always be in my heart, I know that. But it seems like I think about him every minute of every day. I can't let go. I still have this undying hope that he'll come back to me someday. Sometimes I even find myself looking for him. I don't know what to do."

"I don't know what to say. But Hermione, if anyone can make it through this, you can. I believe in you and so does Harry and Ron, if it helps any. Now come give me a hug." Somehow Ginny always knew just what to say to make Hermione feel like there was hope. Her friend had always been there with a crying shoulder and words of love. Without Ginny and Harry, Hermione knew she would be living a miserable life.

Harry had always been there to help too. Thanks to him, Michael had a masculine figure in his life. Someone that could teach him Quidditch, take him out to climb trees, everything. Harry was Michael's male role model, one that every little boy should have. Of course, Hermione would have naturally preferred Draco to take that position in the boy's life. But since she couldn't have Draco, Harry was the best person to fill in.

Harry loved Michael Malfoy very much. They both absolutely adored each other, and it made her happy to watch them together. Ginny was very kind to share her time with her husband. But she realized more and more that soon Harry would have his own child to take care of. She didn't want Michael to become a burden to him. Yet she didn't know what she would do without him helping her out as much.

That night, Hermione went back to the Astronomy Tower again. She knew it wouldn't help her situation anymore, but she couldn't help but think what it would be like if Draco had not died. It was hard to imagine. Her life would be blissfully simple, like it was before. It seemed so unfair that she only had two years with him. It seemed even more unfair that Michael had even less.

She headed back to her room to take out all of her old stuff that reminded her of Draco. She had a trunk, much like that of the old Professor Moody, which if you had the right key, magically opened up into a little room. Every time she missed Draco more than usual, she would go into the room. Hermione pulled out her key and turned the lock, then climbed into the room. It was decorated just like Draco's study. That was Draco's retreat, and where he spent most of his time if he wasn't with Hermione.

She walked over to a bookshelf and pulled out a photo album of the two of them together. Flipping through the pictures made her cry more than anything else. Reliving each moment in seconds, looking at each picture and her heart feeling like it was being stabbed, she could barely take it. And yet she kept looking. She didn't know why. They both looked so happy. She noted, as she had many times before, that Draco was a very handsome man. She very much admired him.

Draco had put the book together himself and given it to her on their first anniversary. He had added to it ever since. Suddenly Hermione came to the last picture, and noticed that it seemed rather out of place. All other pictures were in chronological order, ending just a few days before the last battle.

The very last picture, which she had found so strange, was towards the beginning of their romantic relationship. She gazed at the happy faces while memories flooded back.

"Draco Malfoy, I cannot believe you pushed me into the lake! Do you know how long I had to wash my hair to get all the dirt and other nasty, unmentionable things out of it? Way too long!"

"Whoa, calm down, Granger. It's not that big of a deal. You look lovely now," he replied, smirking and holding up his hands in mock surrender.

"Granger? Granger? That is Miss Hermione Granger to you, buddy!" she had replied, stressing each word by poking him in the chest.

He grabbed her hand and said, "Yes, Miss Hermione Granger. But I don't think that will be your name for long."

"Of course that will be my name. I'm not going to change it or anything. What are you talking about?" she asked, clearly perplexed.

"You'll change it soon," he said mysteriously.

"What are you talking about?"

"I intend to make you Mrs. Hermione Malfoy, thus making it so that your name will not forever be Miss Hermione Granger. Understand now, sweetheart?" he explained.

"Hermione Malfoy…" she trailed off, looking into his eyes. She grinned and said, "That doesn't sound too bad, Draco Malfoy."

"Good," he replied, slowly brushing his lips against hers. They smiled at each other, and then he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight. Not ten minutes later they had decided to head back up to the castle for dinner.

"Give me a piggy back ride? Please, Draco!" Hermione whined. He of course willingly consented, not at all minding a beautiful young girl on his back. They didn't make it far before Harry came running up, told them to smile, and snapped a picture.

He never gave her his reasoning of why he took a picture, but Hermione was pleased that he did. Draco had taken a copy of it from Harry later, and wrote a sweet note on the back. He gave it to Hermione with a dozen roses one day. Hermione decided to take it out and read it. Her tears were blurring her vision so much that she had trouble pulling it out of its place.

Hermione, it had read.

I love you so very much, my sweetheart. And nothing will ever change that. I give you this picture now as a reminder of what we talked about before it was taken. I meant what I said then, and I fully intend on making that happen. Never forget: you are, and forever will be, my sweetheart, my angel, and the love of my life.

Love Always,

Draco

It wasn't very long, but it was so very sweet of him. She moved to put the picture back, but realized that there was another letter beneath the picture. It was still sealed. She wondered how it got there, but realized that it must have been Draco. No one else had seen the album besides her, and that was the Malfoy Crest on the envelope. With shaky hands she slowly lifted it up to her. Hermione Malfoy was written on the front. She opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, scared to death, inquisitive, thrilled, and horribly depressed all at the same time.

My sweet Hermione,

I know that if you're reading this, I have probably passed on. I was hoping that you would find it. Putting a picture out of place was just the thing to do, knowing that your organized mind wouldn't be able to stand that. I sometimes fear that I know you too well, and yet I know that that could never be true.

I want you to know that I love you so very much. You are the world to me, Hermione. Without you, I wouldn't be the man I am today. I mean that from the very depths of my heart. You miraculously saw that there really was something good inside me, and that I'm not a mindless and evil git. You also helped me to realize that too.

I am so very honored that I received the amazing blessing of making you Mrs. Hermione Malfoy like I said I would that one day in the picture. That was the happiest day of my life. I guess now that I think about it, there were two very happy days in my life. The day I married you, and the day our son was born.

I have no doubt that you will take care of him for me. Your heart is so big, and you love him so much, that I am sure he will never go without anything he needs. Tell him I love him. I could only wish that I could be there for him; to love him, to guide him, and to help him grow into an amazing person. I wish I could be the father that I never had.

I also have no doubt that, if I am not able to be the male figure in my son's life, someone else will be. However much I pretend to detest those two idiots of friends you have, I know that they are noble, and they will protect both you and my son. Tell Potter to marry Ginny already. She'll do him a wonder of good.

Last of all, my Hermione, I promise that though it may not seem like it, I will always be there for you. Remember me, sweetheart, and do not cry because we do not have tomorrow together, but be glad for what we had. I did not die in vain, for I had loved, and was loved in return, with a most deep and pure love. I promise you, if you call for me with your heart in a place that is ours, I will come back to you.

I love you, Mrs. Hermione Malfoy.

Forever yours,

Draco

Hermione cried until she could cry no more. At last, with red and puffy eyes, she decided to go to bed. She would ponder the mystery of the letter tomorrow. She was far too overwhelmed right now.