Hello readers,

Just wanted to give a heads up that my other stories on this forum have been temporarily deleted as they go through re-writes and edits. They are however, up on AO3 for now, so please feel free to read them there. Some have been edited, but won't be back on this platform until they all are. I had tried to do so with a couple here, and had some issues which led to Heiress of Slytherin being deleted accidentally.

I wanted to also thank those who've taken the time to read and review all my stories on this platform over the years…I'll be back soon! Enjoy this new chapter!

Several days after Draco's birthday, Hermione found herself at Grimmauld Place helping Harry clean out the rooms on the third floor, including Regulus old room. They hadn't been in this part of Grimmauld since their time hiding out whilst hunting horcruxes, and it wasn't necessarily a time either one of them looked upon with any degree of fondness.

Regulus room looked somewhat similar to Sirius old room, but where Sirius had posters decorating his walls of some of the more noted Wizarding bands back during his heyday at Hogwarts…(at least until sixth year)…Regulus didn't seem to covet those kinds of habits. There were of course lots of books, a derelict potions set, a splintered desk with some broken pictures of what appeared to be Slytherin classmates from Hogwarts, because the one Harry was holding had a moving image of both Regulus and a younger Severus Snape…standing side by side with matching arrogant smirks plastered on their faces.

She could see the tension in Harry's shoulders, and it wasn't too difficult to conclude that something was bothering him.

Harry sat down on the edge of Regulus bed with a heavy sigh and she followed, settling on his right side and staring down at a much younger and somewhat healthier version of Snape.

"You okay?"

"Not really," Harry admitted, his left hand clenching around the picture frame while his right rubbed absently rubbed at his famous scar, "I just wish…"

His voice fell away, but she could hear the obvious regret there.

"You never did tell me."

Bright green eyes lifted and Hermione almost flinched at the stark pain so noticeable in Harry's heavy gaze.

"The memories were hard to watch," Harry began hesitantly, "he loved my Mum, quite a lot. Did you know Snape's Patronus was the same as my Mum's? It was a doe."

"The one you saw out in the Forest?"

"The very same," he nodded sharply, "to think that after all that time, he'd spied for Dumbledore because of his love for my Mum."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that, she'd had her own problems with Dumbledore and how he'd chosen to go about keeping his secrets, and while she wasn't a hypocrite in the strictest sense, she couldn't entirely blame their old Headmaster for his choices either.

Not after everything.

"I think that Professor Snape was a terribly complex person and wasn't one to inspire closeness. It was clear he cared for Draco, and I think he probably cared for you too, at least the part of you that was your Mum."

"He said as much to Dumbledore in the memory." Harry set the picture down on the other side of his body and felt Hermione's head tilt onto his shoulder, causing him to release some of the tension he was feeling. "I keep going back over everything from school, wondering how things could've turned out any differently than they did with us still winning the War. I miss Sirius everyday and being here…well, it just makes it worse some days. I miss Moony too, and Tonks. I need to go see Teddy, and you'd mentioned that Malfoy wanted to meet him too?"

"Yes, Draco mentioned it."

Harry hummed, but didn't immediately reply. He stared at the far wall, his mind whirring with so many memories, regrets and what if's…it was hard to keep track of it all. He felt Hermione's breath on his neck and couldn't help but smile softly at how she was always there for him, rock solid and steady…reliable and loving. If it hadn't been for this betrothal with Malfoy, he'd like to think they'd still be here, trying to figure out what their future looked like together.

"How was your date with Malfoy, you never mentioned?"

"It was good," she replied truthfully, "he was a gentleman and seemed to make a positive impression on a few people…well, expect for one, but that's neither here nor there."

"Oh?" Harry sat back and watched as Hermione lifted her head, her lips pursed in a grimace, "And who was it the ferret failed to impress?"

"Harry!"

"Sorry, Hermione…but really, spill!"

"Jean-Baptiste d'Orléans, another French nobleman who is about ten years older than us. He actually reminds me quite a bit of Malfoy back at Hogwarts. Arrogant, pompous and far too comfortable looking his aristocratic nose down at everyone."

"Sounds like a real prat."

Hermione hummed in agreement, before admitting, "I invited Draco to attend the Grand Prix with us, and he seemed intrigued with the idea of it."

"Really?"

"Yes, especially when I explained how fast the cars go around the track. I don't know what it is about boys and their toys, but maybe it might be a good thing for you two to bond over?"

Harry scoffed slightly, and then winced when Hermione smacked his arm in frustration. When he glanced down at her, she was giving him that look he knew all too well.

"What?"

She shook her head, but asked with a tinge of curiosity, "Tell me about Richie Coote."

He sighed, but turned to face his best friend and could see that she wasn't going to let this line of questioning go. The truth was they were probably long overdue for this particular conversation.

"What do you want to know?"

"Well," she began evenly, "is he the only wizard you've been attracted to?"

Harry's lips flattened instinctively, but he knew he couldn't lie so he just replied with, "No."

"Okay? Have you acted on your attraction to any other wizard's other than Richie?"

"No."

"Harry!"

He groaned, and then ran both hands down his face in embarrassed frustration.

"It's complicated, Hermione."

"In what way?"

"Just is," he explained, "I think I suspected in second year that I found both sexes attractive, but it wasn't until fourth year that I knew for sure. Richie thankfully, was fairly discreet about it all, which I appreciated."

"And how exactly did that happen exactly?"

He took off his glasses and made a show of cleaning them on the edge of his flannel shirt, which gave him a few precious moments to gather his scattered thoughts before he replied, "It was after the first task fourth year and I had been in the Prefect's Bathroom with the egg. Cedric had actually given me the idea to riddle it out by taking the egg there, and I had just figured out the clue and was getting out of the bath when Richie walked in. I didn't know how to set the privacy wards and forgot to lock the room."

"Ah, and how did you handle that?"

"Well, we'd played Quidditch together for years as you know, and I'd started noticing he was a fit attractive bloke third year, but nothing really happened until fifth year. We'd flirted a bit fourth year, but he was shy and I think he was figuring out a few things too. We snogged a few times fifth year, but I tend to believe that because of who I was, it was pretty intimidating for him. Then there was Cho, and Richie saw us snogging once and he never approached me again after that. It wasn't too much later that Umbridge discovered the DA, and well…"

"I know," she offered sympathetically before asking softly, "and Malfoy?"

Harry sighed heavily, then lifted his head towards the ceiling as his brow furrowed heavily. It was several moments later he responded with, "I've always disliked Malfoy, more so because of his behavior towards you and the hateful things he'd spew at the drop of a hat. Sixth year, I was obsessed with proving he was a Death Eater, which you and Ron disagreed with…"

"And you were right…"

"I was, but I know now that much of the negative emotions I'd felt especially from fifth year on were due largely because of my connection with Voldemort. I couldn't master Occlumency no matter how hard I tried. So much anger, rage and hatred…Hermione. So much negativity, that wasn't a part of who I am…so, yeah…while I disliked Malfoy, there was a smaller part of me that couldn't deny I found the git attractive."

"I know."

He smirked at his friend and then chuckled deeply, "We're a right pair."

"We are, but I don't think Draco's indifferent either, Harry."

"No, I got that impression that day at the Leaky." He then took her hand and asked, "Are you really going to be okay with this?"

"You mean sharing you and Draco?"

Harry nodded and Hermione just shrugged, offering, "I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it. I suppose it should bother me on some level, but strangely it feels…" her voice fell away and she could see Harry nodding thoughtfully before he finished with, "Not as far-fetched as it should be."

"Yes." She admitted, blushing softly, which caused Harry to grin at her as he ran his index finger down her cheek with intent.

"You're adorable when you blush like that."

"Harry!" She smacked him playfully again, which just caused him to laugh out loud.

She couldn't help but smile fondly at Harry when he let himself go, like he was. Since the end of the War and the defeat of Voldemort—Harry did seem lighter, freer and more likely to engage in a bit of mischief. But she also knew that the ghosts that haunted him would never truly go away, no matter how much she'd hoped for otherwise.

Merlin, she had her own demons as well!

"Draco's coming over tomorrow, so I could see about all three of us visiting Teddy this weekend?"

"That might work."

"You never did mention that Narcissa Malfoy asked you to pass on a letter to Meda."

Harry grumbled and shook his head, "I know, and I suppose I felt that Meda needed to be able to make the decision to engage her sister without any undue influences. She knows about your betrothal, and I think she feels a certain—obligation—to help because she cares for you and she knows how much you love Teddy."

"I do." Hermione admitted emotively, "I'd often wondered why they didn't ask me to be Godmother."

Harry seemed taken aback, but he eventually replied with, "I don't know, Hermione. The War was so hard on everyone, and I think had things been different…"

"They would've asked?" She finished for him, and he hummed in the affirmative.

"I do."

"Maybe."

They both say together in silence for a bit, their thoughts taking them back to a time they didn't like revisiting, but would probably never be free from entirely.

It was a few moments later, Hermione sighed and said, "I have a confession to make."

Harry lifted a curious eyebrow and responded with an amused, "Oh?"

"Yeah," she grimaced uncomfortably, "it would seem that my Father wasn't quite as forthcoming that night at the Malfoy's."

At that confession, Harry's gaze narrowed as he bit out, "What do you mean?"

"When we got home, he admitted to me that he was more familiar with the Ardante than he alluded to, and shared a few particulars with me."

"Such as?"

So she shared what her Father had confessed, and she could see Harry's expression shift from wary, to suspicious, to downright incredulous by the end—but he didn't comment right away, he just stared over her shoulder and she could see he was deeply processing her words.

When glittering green eyes shifted back to her amber ones, there were several emotions fighting for control, but the most easily discernible was exasperation.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I don't know exactly, I guess I'm still trying to process it all? It's not everyday you learn that your ancestor is a High Elf and the books that you loved as a child were in fact, based in reality."

Harry snorted, "Come on, Hermione! If the last seven years have taught us anything, it's that our lives aren't normal, and nothing makes sense half the time. We plot, we plan and all hell breaks loose!"

She snickered and then they both fell over each other, laughing out hysterically out how ridiculously abnormal their childhoods had been.

"Godric! How did we survive!" Harry gasped out on a stunted guffaw.

"Dumb luck?"

"Not with your brains."

She smacked him again, but her smile was open and free as she replied with, "Git."

"You love this git."

Her expression instantly fell into a more serious one, and she couldn't help but reach out and cup Harry's left cheek, lips lifting indulgently when he tilted his head submissively into her touch.

For a brief moment, it reminded her of a similar reaction from a different wizard…

"I do."

Green eyes widened in stunned surprise, but eventually Hermione could see the same stark emotion mirrored back at her, "I love you too, Hermione."

She leant forward and kissed Harry, and it was only meant to be a sweet expression of how she felt, but he immediately deepened it into something more needful—which was how she found herself laying on Regulus old bed with Harry looming over her, his eyes boring into her own…even as their mouths moved in perfect needy unison.

When they broke the kiss, she sighed with longing—to which he just nodded in silent understanding.

Patience had never been his strong suit after all, but he was determined to do better and be better for Hermione—because after everything they'd been through and for each other, she deserved nothing less from him than his very best.