Images of Ivana's ripped open throat, with her bloody flesh dripping with blood, were haunting Hermione's mind. The sound of her gurgling. The memory of the knife swirling until it sank into Willem's throat, causing a crimson spurt on his clothes and the ground at his feet. His eyes open and confused, mirroring an unfinished thought. Fergus's screams of pain, still unconscious, and the crunch of his broken arm bone under Duncan's sole.
When Draco finally released Hermione, his face showed deep confusion. His lower face was covered in dried blood, and there were cuts all over his face from his fight with Goyle. Duncan's still lukewarm body lay on the grass at the foot of the elm tree, and neither Blaise nor Harry opened their mouths. Everyone was in shock. Everyone was breathing to control their heartbeats.
Eventually Harry walked over to Hermione and pulled her to him. They held each other for a long time and more tears rolled down the brunette's cheeks. She hugged her friend, her brother, with trembling arms. No one knew what to say.
Blaise tugged gently at a lock of Hermione's hair. She pulled away from Harry and when she looked into his eyes and saw him open one arm, keeping the other firmly folded against him, she turned and hugged Blaise the same way she had hugged Harry, but gently. Her friends were safe.
It was over. Duncan was finished.
Draco approached them, wand in hand. "Alright, Zab, show me that arm."
Blaise was unable to move it and kept his teeth clenched to keep from grunting. Under the watchful eye of Hermione and Harry, Draco waved his wand in front of his arm and mumbled an incantation.
"Ossi Fracti."
Nothing really happened in the eyes of the others, but Draco squinted attentively. His grey eyes flicked up to Blaise. "Your arm is broken."
"Can you fix it?" Blaise asked, masking his surprise at the charm Draco had just performed on him.
Draco's mouth twisted sideways, looking uncertain. "I'm not sure. It's more complicated, and I don't want to make it worse. We should take you to St. Mungo's."
"Ginny's going to kill me," Blaise blurted out suddenly.
He explained to the others what he had done, and Harry winced. "She'll want you dead, that's for sure."
Blaise groaned as a new surge of pain tore through his arm.
"You better go now," Draco said.
"I'll go with you," Harry said to Blaise.
Even Draco wasn't surprised by this purely Gryffindorian intervention. Harry approached Blaise, but Blaise looked down at Duncan's body, before looking up at Hermione, then Draco.
"What about him?" he said. "And the other bodies?"
"We'll stay with Fergus until he wakes up," Draco said. "He'll know what to do."
Blaise nodded and Harry put his hand on his shoulder, disapparating. Draco and Hermione were now alone with three dead bodies and an unconscious Auror. Hermione wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
"There's one thing I have to do," she said quietly.
Slowly, she began to walk towards her brother's gravestone, which luckily had not been broken like others. Draco followed, a few steps behind her, without saying a word. The brunette went behind the gravestone and crouched down in front of it, with a blank back. She raised her wand.
"What are you—" began Draco. He paused as he noticed small inscriptions appearing, like tiny engravings, under Hermione's unintelligible, concentrated murmurs.
Their sacrifice will not be forgotten:
Auror Clive
Auror Willem
Ivana Jenkins
April 21st, 1999
When the last number was engraved, Hermione lowered her wand but didn't get up right away. Once the Slytherin understood what she was doing, he bowed his head solemnly.
"I'll be back, Sam," she whispered before getting up.
Draco glanced around the graveyard. Someone had to come for the bodies quickly. He couldn't stop other visitors from coming, and the scene was truly horrific. With one arm still a little shaky, he raised his wand, concentrated for a few moments, eyes closed.
When he opened them again, his grey eyes were glassy and distant. "Expecto Patronum!" he conjured.
Despite all the darkness that still lingered within him, his Patronus emerged from his wand before Hermione's amazed eyes. The silver Phoenix twinkled before his master's eyes and Draco repeated with clarity the message he wanted to send to the Ministry. The magical bird spread its wings and flew into the sky at an impressive speed, soon disappearing behind the clouds. It left a trail of silver sparks behind it, like the tail of a shooting star.
Fergus hadn't woken up until more Aurors had arrived, accompanied by Kingsley. The bloodbath they saw once they'd apparated had rendered them speechless. Hermione didn't know the procedures for cleaning up the battlefields and disposing of the bodies, but she didn't want to witness it. She just wanted to go home. To her dorm, under a scalding shower that would wash the blood of other people off of her, and burn the soiled clothes she was wearing.
An employee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement came to meet them to examine the latest spells cast by their wands to ensure that no Unforgivable Spells had been performed. Clear.
Draco had been nervous for a few minutes, but he'd placed Goyle's wand back next to his body and performed an Obliviate spell to make him forget he'd used his wand. Now he, too, only wanted to return to the castle. He didn't need to ask anything to anyone until Kingsley came to see them. Draco had been quick to tell him that his friend and Potter were at St. Mungo's and that someone else should go and get them. The Minister hurried to send an Auror. The legal procedure called for collecting accounts of the fight, but no one was in a condition to tell anything. They needed to get away from the smell of dry blood and death.
The Minister had taken them back to Hogwarts himself by apparating. Draco and Hermione were truly and literally in shreds, dirty and covered in minor wounds with blood that had already dried. Outside the gates of Hogwarts, Kingsley sent his Patronus to warn McGonagall of his arrival and ask her to meet him in her office. It was almost suppertime. Draco and Hermione wanted to take advantage of the fact that all the students were going to be in the Great Hall to sneak up unnoticed to their dorm.
Kingsley walked the Heads silently back to their dorm. Blaise had said that he had paralysed Ginny outside their dorm, but her body was gone. Someone had probably found her.
"I have to talk to the Headmistress, but I'll take care of everything," Kingsley said, his tone soft. "Make sure you get some rest. Tomorrow, or later in the week, we'll come and take your statement."
"Do we really need to sign anything?" Draco grumbled.
Kingsley's face remained impassive, but a kind of empathy had taken shape on his features. "Only that you witnessed Mackie's death," he replied.
He hadn't asked them how Duncan had died. That was probably part of the story they would have to tell. The Minister had simply assumed that they had witnessed his death, which was not wrong.
And finally, Draco and Hermione were alone. Two pawns still standing when too many important pieces had fallen on the board.
"Are you hungry?" asked Draco.
Hermione was already starting to take off her coat and shoes. She shook her head. Eating was the last thing her stomach needed. Just the thought of food made her nauseous.
"Go ahead," the Slytherin whispered softly.
She looked at him blankly.
"You need to wash up," he said. "Go ahead and take all the time and hot water you need. I don't care."
It was not an order, but an invitation, and Hermione thanked him with a broken smile and locked herself in the bathroom. She took off all her clothes, without glancing in the mirror, and ran under the hot water of the shower. The water soaked her hair, ran between her shoulder blades and down her legs. The water dripping onto the tile floor of the shower was slightly pink. It was only as she began to scrub her head with her shampoo that Hermione gave in to her sobs once more, the memory of Ivana's pleading eyes on her before they went blank.
She thought of the Aurors who had died, of their family that was about to be shattered. She thought of her brother and the horrible agony he must have gone through under Duncan's blade. She thought of Draco, of his dark, smoke-coated form, swirling in the sky. She thought of the colour of the grass, as if some deity had poured a bottle of wine over the graveyard.
Her tears were drowned in the rain of the showerhead.
When Draco went to bed that night, finally showered and dressed in clean clothes, he found Hermione in bed, lying on her back with her hands crossed over her stomach. She was looking up at the ceiling, but he wasn't sure if she was awaiting him. A magic lantern lit Draco's room with an orange glow. Not even the warm water on his body had helped wash away his macabre thoughts and the guilt that was eating away at his flesh like gangrene. He didn't know how Hermione perceived him now. Now that she had witnessed his darkness. Now that she had seen him enjoy torturing another human...
He rubbed his wet hair in his towel one last time and threw it in the basket in the corner of his room. Outside, the night was a deep, impenetrable black. Draco sat down on the side of the bed where Hermione lay, and the mattress squeaked faintly.
"The shower felt good?" Hermione asked, after a moment's silence.
The Slytherin swallowed and felt that ever-present painful twinge again since they had left the graveyard. He shrugged and did not look at her when he answered.
"I think so, yes."
Another silence stretched between the two of them, before the brunette slowly straightened up into a sitting position and crossed her legs under her. She examined her boyfriend, the man she loved. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he was nibbling the inside of his cheek, which she knew was a sign of nervousness. His index fingers kept frantically scratching the cuticles of his thumbs.
"Talk to me," she whispered. "What's wrong?"
Draco did not answer and kept his eyes fixed on the window panes. A sigh swelled inside him and he exhaled, in that slow, shaky way that confirmed to the Lioness that anxiety was tormenting him. A drop of water from the tip of one of his forehead locks fell to his knee.
"Draco—"
"I enjoyed it," he breathed, in a tone so low that Hermione wasn't sure she heard him.
She blinked but did not reply. Draco kept his hands on his thighs, his index fingers rubbing his thumbs, his back curved and his shoulders hunched. He replayed in his mind Duncan's screams of agony, his eyes losing their flame, his smile twisting into a grimace as his blood froze and burned in his veins.
"I enjoyed it," he repeated, his tone bitter and clearer. I enjoyed hurting him. "I enjoyed taking his life away bit by bit. I didn't even hesitate, I raised my wand at him and I wasn't going to give him a fucking chance, Hermione. That's what I wanted. I wanted to kill him. I was going to kill him. And I wanted it to be slow, and gruesome."
Hermione remained silent and continued to examine him with an unreadable expression.
"And the worst part," Draco continued, "is that I would do it again! I would do it a hundred times, a thousand times, if it meant I could save you. How can you even stand being with someone like me? I deserve a one-way ticket to Azkaban as much as my father for what I did today. And you don't say anything, like it's normal. I... I don't understand."
The silence felt even heavier in the room. As the seconds passed without Hermione opening her mouth, Draco was starting to think that he was losing her. She was slipping through his fingers, finally realizing the magnitude of his confession, and what it meant.
"I enjoyed it too," she whispered at last, breaking the interminable silence.
Draco's fingers stilled and his expression froze. He finally turned his face towards her and stared at her, trying to read her frankness like a book. There was no trace of lies in her eyes. She was looking him earnestly.
She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. Her warmth soothed something in the Slytherin.
"I stopped you because I didn't want you to suffer the consequences of that," she said. "But when I was in front of him, looking at him so weak, so hurt, something in me flared up too."
She swallowed hard. The blonde wizard noticed tears gathering in her eyes. Hermione bowed her head in shame before continuing.
"Watching him die painfully, without his allies... I felt like... 'finally', you know? Finally he was paying for his crimes! Finally he got what he deserved! But I... I was able to push those thoughts and feelings away. And then I could see that he was... a simple man. Monstrous, yes. But broken, tormented, mad. And utterly alone."
"You were able to shake it off, but not me," Draco replied. "If he were to appear right in front of me, right now, I—" He stopped abruptly, pursed his lips in anger, and resumed in a controlled voice. "I would do the same thing. Again and again. I would hurt him, Hermione. In very cold blood. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
His last word cracked in his throat, as if tears had suddenly gripped him. It was then that the Gryffindor realised what her boyfriend was hinting at. Behind his confession, he was asking her if she still loved him, despite everything. He was asking if she saw him differently, if she still wanted to be with such a dreadful man.
Draco bent his head and pressed his forehead against his palms, cursing the tears that were beginning to fall from his eyes without even sliding down his cheeks. Hermione got off the bed and knelt in front of him, placing one hand on his knee and holding the other to his face. The Slytherin's shoulders were shaking horribly.
"Draco," she whispered, her throat tight. "I don't see you any differently…"
He did not answer. The brunette couldn't see his face.
"I'm a monster, Hermione," he croaked. "Who knows what I might do to you one day?"
"Don't talk like that," she said sternly. "I'm still here! Look at me!"
He did not immediately comply, and she repeated her request. When he finally lifted his face and looked at her, the softness of her features soothed him like a wave. She straightened up so that she was at the same height as he was, and moved forward on her knees towards him. He spread his legs and let her kneel right in front of him, between his knees, and she put her hands on his forearms.
"I'm still here," she repeated. "I always knew you had that darkness in you, but let's be honest. We all have it. We all learn to live with that brokenness inside of us. I don't see you differently just because it came out when you were dealing with someone who committed horrendous things in their life."
"Don't try to justify my—"
"I'm not justifying you!" she exclaimed. "I'm telling you that you're more normal than you think. Yes, Draco, you could have killed him with a snap of your finger, but you didn't. You say I stopped you, but I stopped you from torturing him further because I wanted to save you, not him. Part of me wanted to stop you from killing him because... I think I wanted the chance to do it myself. I didn't want to do it myself, but I wanted the option. You know what I mean? Because he killed my brother, I made him my enemy. My fight. My revenge. Not yours."
Draco blinked and looked at his partner. He found it hard to believe that Hermione Granger was harbouring this dark side inside her. Just like he was. She seemed suddenly more... human, flawed and truly beautiful in all her fractures.
Slowly he raised his hand and placed it on her cheek, stroking it without saying a word.
"But he was not my enemy," she continued breathlessly. He was everyone's enemy. "The enemy of all the families he had torn a limb from... I couldn't play God and decide whether he lived or not. Despite all he did, despite his cruelty, there was a picture of a man who was once funny, charming and kind. A man I fell for but who decided to give himself over completely to his darkness. And that's why you are nothing like him. Duncan gave in to his vices, but you're learning to control them."
She grabbed the wrist that held her cheek and held on to his gaze.
"He was my first love that I lost to the dark arts, and today I've lost him for good. But today I was able to save and keep my last love."
Draco's lips parted slightly. "You mean it?"
"Mean what?"
"That I'm your last love?"
Just like that, the heaviness of the moment drained away and Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief. "Of course I do, Draco!" she exclaimed, almost offended.
A peaceful smile found its way onto the Slytherin's mouth and he leaned forward, slipping his arms behind her to hug her with the grip of a survivor.
"Good to know," he whispered, face buried in her collarbone. "That's really good to know."
Blaise and Harry had returned to Hogwarts that very evening, but Hermione and Draco were already asleep. They decided not to pay them a visit, not knowing what state they were in. Fixing Blaise's arm had been painful, and Harry had told him all sorts of stories and adventures from his early years at Hogwarts to cheer him up. Neither of them mentioned the graveyard. Ginny's face haunted Blaise's mind, never leaving it. He longed to see her, but he suspected that the feeling was not mutual.
The Auror had walked them back to Hogwarts, taking care to briefly explain the situation to Filch who stumbled upon them, ready to give them detention. Harry had returned to his common room, but Blaise had headed to the Heads dorm, not to talk to Draco and Hermione, but to see if Ginny was still there.
She wasn't there anymore. Of course she wasn't. He had been gone for hours.
All he could feel was the coldness of her paralyzed body as he pressed it against the wall like a common portrait, watching him go with a betrayed look. He bolted for the Gryffindors' common room, where he had left Harry only ten minutes earlier, but the fat lady stopped him from knocking, angry at the late hour and not wanting to wake the Gryffindors inside. He asked to see Ginny, Harry or Ron. Muttering quietly, she walked away and after a short while it was Ron who opened the portrait. His eyebrows rose as he identified Blaise in the darkness of the corridor.
Ron pulled himself out of the portrait and closed it quietly behind him.
"I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour," Blaise apologised, disappointed that the fat lady hadn't fetched Ginny. "I really need to talk to Ginny... Is she here?"
Ron avoided his gaze. "She, uh..." he coughed. "She doesn't want to see you right now."
"She's there?" he breathed, obviously relieved. "How is she? Is she all right?"
"She's..." Ron sighed. "What you did was messed up, man..."
Blaise was about to say something, but Ron beat him to it. "But I understand why you did it. She's my little sister. I don't want anything else to happen to her."
"I need her to know that I wanted to protect her, it was a bloodbath out there... She... I couldn't have done it all if she was there. I would have been too distracted about her safety."
"Look, Zabini," Ron blurted out, "I finally made peace with the fact that you two are together, but I can't meddle. She'll talk to you when she's ready."
Silence fell between them, stretching down the length of the corridor and between the sounds of snoring characters in the portraits. After a moment, Blaise sighed, defeated, and before leaving, remembered that he had a question for Ron.
"Why weren't you at the graveyard?"
Ron flushed dramatically in the torchlight, but Blaise didn't feel guilty.
"It's stupid, really," Ron muttered, scratching his neck in embarrassment. "First I woke up and I had the coin with me, but then when we started looking for Harry, I realised it wasn't in my pocket and there were holes in my robes pockets... They're worn out, you know… Been wearing them since Fifth Year."
"You lost the coin?" said Blaise.
"I looked for it everywhere, I retraced my steps, but I couldn't find it. I went upstairs to Hermione and Draco's dorm and saw Ginny... on the floor... and I realised that the coin had vibrated and you were gone. But I couldn't leave Ginny there."
Ron pursed his lips. "I brought her back here, but she was furious. I stayed with her, until she decided to go to her afternoon classes... But then I went to the graveyard."
"You went?" the Slytherin gasped.
Ron nodded. "But none of you were there, just a few Aurors and... a lot of blood on the grass. They explained to me what had happened and that you were in hospital and Hermione and Draco were on their way back. Meanwhile Harry sent me an owl from the hospital to explain everything, even though I already knew."
Blaise cleared his throat and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. The two wizards looked at each other for a few moments before Blaise started to back away.
"I'll let you sleep," he said. "Please... if it's not too much trouble, tell Ginny I stopped by…"
Ron smirked awkwardly but nodded. They said goodnight to each other, and Blaise walked slowly and absently back to the dungeons. Her angelic face with her flaming hair swirled in his head like a ballerina in a music box. For the first time he wondered if the day he had told her he loved her was the same day he had lost her.
The next day, when Draco blinked himself awake, he was still as tired as the day before. It was a school day and although he would have liked to miss it to get some more sleep, he decided that going to his classes was the distraction he needed. He still felt… awful.
Still guilty.
Still dark and evil.
Even though Hermione still loved him and wanted to stay with him. The impression that his feeling was irreversible terrified him. Would he always feel this way from now on? So filthy, so unworthy? A fallen Pureblood. He got up silently from his bed, taking care not to wake his beautiful girl, and made his way out of his room quietly. After a shower, he left Hermione a note to explain that he had preferred to let her sleep to rest, grabbed his books and made his way out of the portrait.
In the Great Hall he saw Blaise and Harry sitting at the end of the Gryffindors' table — their usual place now—, and he looked around for Ginny. He noticed her further down the table, next to Neville and facing Padma. He frowned and when he looked more closely at Blaise's drawn features, he could guess at once that he and Ginny were not on good terms.
He took a seat next to Blaise, facing Harry, and helped himself to some cereal.
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, chewing his toast.
"Needed some sleep," he replied, pouring milk into his bowl.
Blaise had his cheek resting limply on his palm and was swirling his cereal in his milk with the tip of his spoon. He did not look up from his bowl to offer his usual 'good morning to you too'.
Harry and Draco ate in silence for a few moments, during which time the Gryffindor noticed Draco's gloomy mood. He knew why Blaise was making that face, but he couldn't understand why Draco seemed so brooding and troubled.
Blaise sighed very dramatically and put his spoon down with a metallic clatter. "I'm out," he declared.
He left the Great Hall without further ado and Draco noticed that Ginny was following him with her eyes.
"What did I miss?" muttered Draco to Harry.
The raven-haired wizard explained the situation, which Ron had already told him the day before. The Slytherin whistled.
"How long is this going to last?" he asked.
"You know Ginny," replied Harry.
They continued with their breakfast and the Gryffindor peered at the Slytherin before him. "What's going on?" he asked.
Draco winced. "We're not going to talk about feelings, Potter," he muttered.
"Is it…her?"
"No!" Draco exclaimed. "Well, yes, kinda! I... I don't know."
Harry stopped chewing. "Are you going to do something stupid?"
Draco began to stir his cereal in his bowl, just as Blaise had done a few minutes earlier. "I've already done something stupid," he grunted, surprised to hear himself admit it to Potter.
Harry swallowed his mouthful, but did not take another bite. Suddenly his face went pale. "Oh my God," he gasped, "is she pregnant?"
Draco raised his head sharply, looking shocked. "God, no, Potter! Are you mad?"
Harry shrugged. "It happens…"
The Slytherin sighed loudly and crossed his arms. He wasn't hungry anymore. He ran his tongue over his teeth and kept his eyes riveted on the illuminated windows of the Great Hall behind Harry. His breath burned, as if the words were begging him to come out. Harry continued to eat slowly, unsure of what else to say. After another short moment of silence, Draco put his hands on the table and began to trace some scratches in the wood with the tip of a fingernail.
"I acted like a Death Eater," he said quietly, as if he were talking to himself.
Harry looked up at him and said nothing. Now that the first words had passed his lips, Draco did not know how to stop them.
"Everyone saw it. And even if it was to stop Mackie, I did the same thing he did. I used dark magic. I tortured him and I enjoyed it. I liked it, Potter. I thought I had changed, at least slightly, over the year, but I realise I haven't. That side of me is still there."
The Gryffindor said nothing for a long moment, during which Draco regretted opening his mouth.
"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have done that if there was any other way to stop him," Harry finally said.
Draco blinked and stared at Harry in front of him. Their gaze remained locked together, grey in green, emerald in silver.
"That doesn't make you a bad person," Harry continued. "Sirius... my godfather... once told me that the world is not divided into good people and Death Eaters. There are many in-betweens. It's perfectly normal to be grey."
Something clenched in the Slytherin's chest and he pushed away the prickling he felt at the corners of his eyes.
"You have to accept being grey," Harry continued. "You were a different person two years ago. You were a different person even yesterday. Every moment and every choice we make about the way we live that moment determines who we are."
Harry paused to give Draco time to speak if he wanted to, but the blonde wizard remained silent, looking attentive and deeply unsettled.
Harry bit his lower lip slightly. "You're not 'the best', Draco, but you're not the worst either. One action in a single moment in a precise context does not determine who you are and who you will be for the rest of your life. It is up to you to choose who you are today, and whether you let your actions of the previous day mess up the way you see yourself. No one sees you differently."
Draco swallowed and realized his throat was tight. He had to say something. He felt a feeling growing inside him, light and heavy at the same time, warming his body.
Harry took the last bite of his toast and took a sip of his pumpkin juice. "You don't have to be perfect to be with Hermione," he said. "You only need to be perfect for her. And I think you are. In fact, after yesterday, I know you are."
Draco searched Harry's face for a joke, a flattery, a lie, but he could only read the purest sincerity in his emerald eyes. His vision blurred, but looking up at the ceiling, he managed to control his tears and they did not flow. He felt lighter than when he had entered the Great Hall earlier.
His perception of the Gryffindor changed to something much more sincere, amiable and genuine from that moment on.
Kingsley decided to meet the witnesses of the graveyard scene that evening in McGonagall's office. The four students signed documents, answered questions and detailed how Mackie died as accurately as possible. Hermione asked about Fergus, and Kingsley explained that he was very distressed by the loss of his colleagues and needed time to recover.
The days passed, each one like grains falling through an hourglass, and the N.E.W.T.s week made everyone nervous. The episode in the graveyard had deeply shaken those who had been there, but they were all doing their best not to think about it again and not to picture the corpses bathed in blood or not to recall the sound of the blade thrusting into Willem's neck.
Blaise and Ginny had not made up and for the first week everything was rather awkward, including the times when one of them was not there but would join them, and the other would leave. Meals were separate. Sometimes Hermione, Harry and Ron would decide to eat with Ginny, and sometimes even Draco wanted to sit with her, while Harry or Hermione would eat with Blaise. Everyone was friends with everyone at this point. After two weeks, the group was already quite annoyed and tired of being between tree and bark and Hermione began to try and convince Ginny to talk with Blaise, but she refused.
It was during the third week, Tuesday the 11th of May, that Harry couldn't stand to see Blaise so depressed and Ron couldn't stand to see his sister so unhappy. Ron had refused to meddle from the start, but his sister's happiness outweighed his unease. Together, Harry and Ron discussed a plan to get the two of them alone in the same room to talk.
During that day, Ron went to tell Ginny that he needed her help to write a letter to their parents announcing his plan to attend the Auror program in London as soon as he finished Hogwarts and that he was thinking of moving in with Harry as a roommate. He didn't know how to tell his mother. He asked Ginny to meet him at the Owlery.
Harry asked Blaise to help him write a letter to Narcissa, for reasons he would explain when he got there. He asked Blaise to meet him at the Owlery, five minutes after the time Ron had told Ginny to meet him.
That evening, Ginny was pacing the Owlery, waiting for her brother, and when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, she uncrossed her arms. Blaise appeared, slightly out of breath, and he stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he saw her.
"What the—" he began.
"Bloody hell!" Ginny exploded, her face already red. "I should have known!"
She walked furiously without looking at him to get past him and leave, but Blaise held her by the wrist. "Please, Gin," he begged. "I didn't know, I assure you. Stay... please, stay…"
The redhead pulled away abruptly. She was breathing heavily.
"Fucking Ron," she snapped under her breath, and turned her back to Blaise to look out the window.
Blaise didn't move and looked at her from behind. "Talk to me, Ginny..." he whispered. "I'm sick of this."
She didn't answer, but the Slytherin saw her shoulders rise and fall heavily. "Me too," she admitted quietly, without turning around.
Blaise took a few steps forward, until he was directly behind her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. He repressed and controlled his urge to lift her off the ground, to spin her around in his arms, to hug her as tightly as he could. Slowly he swung her around to face him.
"I'm so, so sorry," he quietly said. "I need you to forgive me... I only wanted to protect you."
Ginny remained silent, her arms crossed. Tears gathered in her blue eyes. Blaise's heart was pounding in his chest.
"I don't know what to say," she admitted, her voice breaking.
"Then... can you blink twice if you forgive me?"
A long moment of silence stretched out between them, and Blaise was pretty sure she would never blink, until she looked up at him and her eyelids fluttered twice quickly.
A feeling soared in Blaise's chest like the flight of a dove. "Can you blink three times if I can kiss you?"
The Gryffindor wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, but stopped herself from blinking. She was still hurt inside, but she had long since understood why Blaise had done what he did. She latched her gaze onto Blaise's and a rush of all the things she missed about him hit her full force. Why was she wasting her time being spiteful?
She blinked three times and Blaise didn't wait for it. He leaned down and captured her lips with eager purpose, holding her face in place between his large palms. Their kiss lasted for a tiny eternity, in which they shared their wordless apologies to each other, letting their hands explore one another like it was the first time.
When they both came out of the Owlery nearly two hours later, their hair was dishevelled and their clothes ruffled. They had talked for a long time and had made up for their lack of physical contact. Now, at least, a grin glowed on each of their faces.
The month of June put the students in a good mood, and the warm weather cheered everyone up. The N.E.W.T.s were in two weeks, and graduation in three weeks. Discussions during meals revolved mainly around everyone's career plans. Draco, under the advice of Blaise and Hermione, had decided to abandon his idea of being a Potions Master and instead start the Healer Training. Ever since he had started reading about the subject, and even before, he had realised that healing and curing others was something that gave him a sense of fulfillment he had never felt before.
He had contacted Agnes, the Healer who had cared for Hermione during her coma, and met with her to discuss his goals. She had been delighted and had immediately had him fill out an application form for the three year Training Program — two years of theory and one year of supervised practice. Draco was more and more convinced this was the right path for him the more he thought about it.
Blaise, for his part, was interested in studying psychology at a Muggle university. Hermione and Harry had explained to him how universities worked and Blaise was excited about the idea of studying psychology. He had always had a gift for observation and analysis. He wanted to use those skills for the common good. Hermione promised to help him surf the Internet.
Harry had decided to pursue pedagogical qualifications to become the next Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. He had met McGonagall, who had agreed to put him under the tutelage of Oakwood, the current teacher.
Ron wanted to become an Auror, and Ginny wanted to pursue a professional Quidditch career, as they both planned.
Hermione had already been debating for several weeks where she wanted to go after her studies at Hogwarts. She wanted to work at the Ministry, but didn't necessarily want to be locked in a cubicle filling out paperwork all day. She wanted to help change the Wizarding world for the better. She wanted to put things in place. She wanted students who, like her, had lost loved ones to have the support they needed to get through their studies while grieving. She didn't know how to do this; her ideas were just a jumbled mess in her head. But she felt that starting out as an employee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was a good place to start. She wrote to Kingsley personally to tell him about her ambitions. He explained how to proceed with the application.
Draco had discussed Hermione's parents with his mother, who was an outstanding Legilimens. He asked her advice on what would help them regain their original memory. Narcissa kindly and generously replied that she would be honoured to assist them personally in the process. When Draco told Hermione the news, she had broken down in tears. She knew that her parents had returned a while ago from Canada. She wrote a letter to Narcissa thanking her and gave her their address.
On Sunday June 13th, the day before N.E.W.T.s week, Draco and Hermione were in their dorm, nosing through their books. Hermione had started the bad habit of nibbling on the end of her quill, and she sometimes got feathers stuck in her teeth.
The brunette was on the sofa while Draco was on one of the armchairs, and he had made the mistake of raising his eyes from his book to look at her. Now he struggled to tear his eyes away from her. She was beautiful when she was focused, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, her lips mouthing the words she was reading.
His fingers were fiddling with a ring. It had already been several weeks since he had acquired it. He hadn't planned to pop up THE question, but it was something he thought about every day. He wondered what their life would be like outside their dorm, outside the precincts of Hogwarts. They would both be heading for different Programs, who knows if they could really be together as much as they wanted? The idea of marrying her hadn't come as a total shock to him. He felt that he had always had the conviction inside him that he would one day propose to her. But he didn't know how. He didn't know when the time was right.
And then, in that moment, as he continued to watch her, he decided that the right moment would never come and that it was his responsibility to create it.
He cleared his throat. "You know, graduation is in a week."
"Hmm-hm," she hummed, still reading.
Draco looked down at the ring, clasped between his index finger and thumb, his hand hidden beside his thigh.
"I've got a surprise for you that day," he smirked.
Hermione lifted her head and blinked, pulling herself out of her world of letters and papers. Her eyes were tired, but the smile she gave him was genuine and alive.
"Really? Oh, you really do spoil me, Draco... But I can't wait, as long as it's not a proposal! I intend to live with you before we take that step!"
She was obviously joking, but Draco closed his hand over the ring and pretended he'd never thought about proposing right now. Now he would have to find another surprise to give her that day. They had never talked about marriage openly like this, but she had just communicated her feelings to him in a very clear way. She was right, and he didn't blame her. He knew he would marry her one day, but the timing had to be right. He was happy at the thought of living with her, even outside of Hogwarts.
He hid the ring in his pocket. "Don't worry," he said, imitating her joking tone. "That's not for a while."
On graduation day, June 20th, the seventh and eighth years were all wearing black gowns in their house color, and a diagonal sash over one shoulder with the school's name in gold letter. They all wore pointy wizard hats. All the tables in the Great Hall had been removed, and benches had been placed in two symmetrical rows on either side of the room. Enlargement spells had been performed on the Great Hall so that it could hold many more people, including the parents of graduating students. A middle aisle was set up in the centre, with an elegant red carpet. Black and gold banners lined the walls, and a platform had been placed at the front, where students would climb to receive their diplomas. A photographer from The Daily Prophet was there to capture the moment, which would undoubtedly end up in the next day's newspaper.
Ten minutes before the ceremony, all the graduates stood in line, in alphabetical order, not by house, outside the Great Hall, waiting for the signal to enter. Blaise was at the very end of the line, but there were only two people between him and Ginny and Ron. They were throwing obscene jokes at each other over the shoulders of the very annoyed students between them.
They heard McGonagall give her welcome speech, and the applause echoed between the walls of the enormous Great Hall like a noisy torrent. The graduates made their ceremonial entrance, marching in single file down the centre aisle. The applause did not abate. Hermione tried not to think about the fact that neither her parents nor her brother were there, and she kept her chin up proudly, knowing that Sam was somewhere up there commenting on her slightly too long gown.
They took their places in the front benches, and waited for their names to be called, one after the other. They climbed onto the platform, shook hands with each of their professors before McGonagall, at the very end, handed them their official diploma with the Hogwarts seal. There was a sense of trepidation in the air.
When Hermione received her diploma in her hands, she clutched it in her fingers and thought about her whole year in retrospect,while all the other diplomas were distributed. Her arrival at Hogwarts. Meeting her partner on the train. The first attack in the sixth floor bathroom, the Halloween Ball, the black dress, the letters on Duncan's desk, Angela's diary, Blaise's friendship, Draco's kisses, her agony in the Forest, her reunion with Sam in Neverwhere, her Christmas in March, her Valentine's Day, her first time, the battle in the graveyard... All of her memories and experiences were colliding inside her. She was happy. Bruised, but happy.
Draco sat in the other half of the room, poking his head forward as McGonagall spoke the final word, and looked at his girlfriend. Hermione moved her head forward in the same way, and held up her diploma, now in a scroll, in her hand. He gave her a thumbs up and an irresistible wink.
"I would now like to invite our Heads to come forward to give a final speech to their classmates," McGonagall announced, once she was done calling every name.
The crowd applauded once more as Hermione and Draco stood up in unison, each on their own side of the room, and met in the centre of the platform. Silence gradually fell in the room and Draco looked at his beloved from the corner of his eye. They had practiced their speech dozens of times. Hermione offered him a smile and invited him to speak first. Draco stepped up to the golden lectern and offered a genuine smile to the crowd before he began. Blaise shouted an "I LOVE YOU, MALFOY!" and several laughs broke out among the students and the rest of the crowd.
"Dear students, teachers, parents, family, and friends…" Draco began in a firm and confident voice. Today we celebrate our graduation. The end. The finish line. Some of us have been here for seven years, some for eight. We have come a long way, haven't we? On September 1st 1991, we walked down the aisle of the Great Hall for the first time. Some of us knew Hogwarts, some of us did not. I had known about the school for a long time, but I was as amazed as you were by the magic within it. I wasn't the best co-worker. I wasn't the best student because of my immature and nasty comments to you all. I offer you all my sincere apologies, and hope that my charming smile will be able to erase the harm I may have caused."
"IT WILL, LOCKHART, IT WILL!" shouted Blaise.
Again, laughter scattered among the students, and even Hermione blushed noticeably. Most of them remembered Professor Lockhart, who had won contests for the most charming smile several times before. Draco gave his friend an annoyed look, but couldn't help but smirk anyway. He spoke again.
"Not only did we learn how to turn a light on and off, we also found friends, family, and many of us found the most important person. We found ourselves. We learned more than any other student. We realised that it's not about where we come from, but where we are going."
Draco paused for a moment, glancing sideways at his Gryffindor. She flashed him an encouraging smile. The Slytherin cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the crowd.
"Along the way, we've lost a lot, but we've gained freedom. We have gained friendship and family. We have gained love."
He stepped back, having finished his part of the speech, and Hermione stepped forward quickly to continue.
"Today we celebrate the graduation classes of Hogwarts, but we must also celebrate the beginning of a new era. Never before have we gained such unity between Houses. Never before has there been less prejudice against each other or against some Hogwarts Houses. And if it still isn't the case for you, if you still have a prejudice against someone who's sitting two seats from you, please go talk to that person. Make amends. Make peace. Try to get to know this person. We have learned that sometimes the darkest snake can be the bravest person. Even the honorable lion can be a false rat. No one should make up their mind just because of the colour of our scarf. We are more than red, green, yellow and blue. I am not just brave. Blaise Zabini is not just cunning. Luna Lovegood is not just smart. Hannah Abbot is not just loyal. We all have our strengths and weaknesses, but we all have the choice to decide what we want to be. The color of our house is of no importance."
Hermione paused to let Draco return to her side, and together they raised their wands to the front benches where the graduates were sitting and made the same movement. Immediately all the gowns changed to black, including hers and Draco's. Stunned exclamations arose; it was no longer apparent which student belonged to which house. Not every student was pleased with the change, but the majority were impressed and smiled. The teachers raised their eyebrows in pleasant surprise and the parents murmured amongst themselves.
Hermione cleared her throat and silence returned to the hall, everyone's eyes focused back on her.
"Hogwarts is going to let us go today," she continued with emotion in her throat, "some for the last time, but others will come back. The walls of this old castle have seen so much, suffered so much, but never faded. Let us become like these walls. Let us accept our sufferings. Let us take off our masks. If you wear a mask that is already part of who you are, take it off. Don't hide behind it. Let it become part of you. You deserve to embrace every part of yourself. The good, the bad, the light and the dark. Because no one is only good, or only bad. We are all grey."
The brunette glanced at her partner on her left. Anyone who didn't already know they were a couple could tell at that moment, by that sweet and meaningful exchange of looks.
"Each of us will make a difference in the world," Hermione continued in a clear voice. "No matter how big or small, every difference counts. It is up to us to lead our community into a time of peace and freedom. There is still so much to do. So let's start tomorrow!"
She stepped back, the speech over, and as the first applause began to sound, she plunged back to the lectern with the magic microphone on top.
"Oh, one last thing!" she exclaimed. "It's time to celebrate!"
The Great Hall erupted in a thunderous applause and one after another, all the guests and students stood up, continuing to applaud. Hermione and Draco, still on the platform, removed their hats and the other graduates copied them. They threw their hats over their heads, and everyone else did the same, cheering and whooping with glee and celebration. Blaise rushed to Ginny and lifted her off the ground to hug her.
They had done it. Each one of them.
They were done.
As the exclamations died down, McGonagall approached the lectern, and smiled warmly at the hatless graduates before her.
"Congratulations to our two Heads for leading this school with leadership, initiative and commitment. A final round of applause for our graduating cohort of 1998 and 1999!"
Draco took Hermione's hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles gently, as Narcissa, further away, clapped elegantly, unable to take her pride-filled eyes off her son.
Several tall, round, draped tables had been set up outside the castle for cocktails and appetizers. The discussions were lively. Ron, Ginny and Harry were hanging out with Molly and Arthur, while Blaise was chatting with his mother. Hermione and Draco were keeping each other company with a glass of champagne in hand.
Shortly after the cocktail party started, Narcissa came to her son and gave him a warm, motherly hug. She did the same with Hermione and hugged her like a daughter. She held the brunette in her arms and looked into her eyes.
"Your parents are making a lot of progress, by the way" she said gently. "They're on the right track."
Hermione smiled and put a hand to her own heart. "Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," she whispered, touched. "I'm so very grateful."
"Call me Narcissa," the lady winked. "Draco," she said, turning her attention back to her son, "I have something for you."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out an elegant key, attached to a small metal band. Draco held out his hand and Narcissa let the key fall into the centre of his palm.
"What is it, Mother?" asked Draco, surprised.
"I know that you will continue your training as a Healer at St. Mungo's, and Miss Granger will be employed by the Ministry. Blaise will be attending Oxford University and Miss Weasley has been recruited by the Holyhead Harpies as a professional trainee in London. I thought you'd all like a place where you could stay together and develop your relationships."
Hermione was speechless, and Draco couldn't make a sound. Finally he managed to gasp "You... you're giving us a house?"
"I'm leaving the Manor for good. You're right, Draco, it's not good to live in the past." Narcissa laid her gentle gaze on the Gryffindor. "Hermione, I know you won't set foot in the Manor and I understand why, and your parents can't take you in yet. So let me give you, Draco, Blaise and Miss Weasley a place to stay. A place to be together while you all go through your respective training and programs."
"But... where will you go?" asked Draco, still gawking at the piece of metal he held in his sweaty palm.
"Ravona has lived with too many husbands in the past. It's time she learns to live with a woman. I've already settled everything with her. If you give me permission, I'll sell the Manor or give it to charity for orphans."
Draco closed his hand on the key and hugged his mother. "Thank you," he whispered into the familiar scent of her blonde hair.
Hermione followed suit and hugged Narcissa. The lady walked away to talk to Ginny's parents directly and Hermione knew that with her elegance, respect and exuberant aristocracy, she could convince Molly and Arthur of the wisdom of her gift.
Draco held up the key by the metal band. His eyes were still wide with disbelief. "Hermione... We have... we have a fucking house!"
And publicly, between the tables and in front of everyone else, he leaned over to the Lioness and kissed her passionately, wanting everyone to see how proud he was of her, proud to be the one she had chosen, proud to save all his next kisses for her.
Later that afternoon, Blaise and Ginny joined them with completely stunned expressions. "WE HAVE A HOUSE!" shouted Ginny hysterically.
"Shotgun on the master bedroom!" exclaimed Blaise.
"Ends are not bad things, they just mean that something else is about to begin. And there are many things that don't really end, anyway, they just begin again in a new way."
C. Joybell C.
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Hi guys ! Don't miss out on the Epilogue, which is gonna be posted before New Year's ; it's already written, I'm only waiting for my betas to look over it. Thank you so much for following this story. I hope you liked that chapter and that you were still captivated.
I've got to say a big thanks to my alpha Angelina who helped me with the ceremony speech!
Any thoughts, comments, impressions, questions?
Axiomea