Wow…sorry 'bout the long hiatus there…I figured I'd continue this once I finished up with Sokka and the Prince, but since that will take longer than I expected, I figured I might as well finish this thing up…this is the end. Enjoy the inevitable sappiness!


Five months later…
Hermione, wandering along the perimeter of the grounds, pondered (not for the first time, by any means) her situation. It was ironic, really; no other term was really suited to explaining it.

Her boyfriend –

Now my "ex," she thought with another tinge of irony, now colored by dislike,

- Had cheated on her, utterly and completely. No getting around that. Her best friend had estranged said "ex" for his disloyalty and, possibly more importantly, his failure, once again, to hold Quidditch practice as more important than pleasure. Not that she blamed him, but she knew perfectly well that Ron's relationships weren't the only reason. But that was all right, really…

…She'd found a new outlet. True, Harry would probably throw a fit when he found out where she kept disappearing…

Since he probably still assumes I'm going off to sulk in the back corner of the library…

…but that wasn't going to stop her. Nothing could keep her away.

For she and Draco were going out. The stranger who'd only been a menace in her eyes less than half a year ago was no longer a stranger. They met on as regular a basis as her schedule accommodated, in fact. Harry had no idea.

She supposed he'd find out eventually, and then would go back to Ron to rant about her infidelity, but until then, Hermione didn't care. It wasn't that he didn't matter to her. It was just that Draco mattered more…or equally, but in a different way. And frankly, that way was more important, at the moment. Harry was important to her in the way of "my best friend has to save the Wizard World from you-know-who, and if Ron's not going to help, I will." Draco, on the other hand, was half a mere friend and person to talk to, and half a reason to be alive. That first night when she discovered Ron's little secret, she had been utterly unable to imagine how she would survive without Ron in her life. Now, she could barely remember life with him in it, much less imagine going back to how they were.

"Hermione!" a familiar voice rang out across the grounds. She turned to see Harry flying towards her on his beloved broom. Seeing that he had her attention, he swooped in to talk to her.

"What are you doing out here? I've been looking all over for you – I went to the library, but you weren't there, so I came to see if you'd maybe gone for a walk or something."

"Well," she said with a small smile, "I suppose I must be getting awfully predictable, what with you getting it right on the second guess,"

As soon as she said it, she regretted the slightly condescending note her words bore, but he didn't notice. Not that she should have expected him to – he missed a lot.

"No, I just know you too well. Anyway, shouldn't we be going in? It's almost time for supper, and…" She was shaking her head.

"No, I stopped into the kitchens before I came out here – I couldn't possibly eat any more…" He raised his eyebrows, but shrugged.

"Ok, well, I've got a quidditch meeting…I have to run. Will you be in the common room after – well, I mean, will you be there later?" he flushed slightly, and she wondered vaguely if he'd finally gotten over that Ravenclaw girl he'd mooned over for so long.

"Um, I doubt it….I have to go to the library, and talk to one of my professors…I'll try, though, alright, Harry?" He grinned and nodded, not noticing the condescension that colored her speech, and, turning his broom, waved over his shoulder as he flew away.

Hermione smiled. She hadn't lied, even about the library and the professors - and she had visited the kitchens, and in truth, probably couldn't eat more that night. Still, she hadn't mentioned the circumstances under which she'd visited them.

It was a good thing Harry had yet to notice the disappearance of his invisibility cloak.

Without it, she and Draco would have to quit their nighttime explorations of the castle that she loved so much. No one had ever been patient enough to listen to her explanations about the many unusual features of Hogwarts, but Draco always listened to her commentary when they prowled the dim halls. It wasn't the most romantic way to spend a date, she knew, but it was about the best that the castle provided.

…Although she'd always wondered what she and Draco would find when they entered the Room of Requirement on one of their midnight strolls…

"Psst! Hermione!"

She grinned, recognizing this voice as well. She angled her course a little to the left, bringing her right up to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Draco leaned around from behind a tree, good naturedly tugging at a hank of her wild hair.

"Since when has Potter been able to tell exactly where you'll be?" he asked with a lopsided grin. His expression told her all she needed to know about his mood – He'd heard her quick conversation with Harry, and was mildly disgruntled that Harry had hoped to spend time with her that evening – and yet, he was amused by how easily she'd gotten rid of him.

"He can't – if you hadn't noticed, he'd been flying in a grid pattern to search the whole campus…He learned it from…" she paused, schooling her face to look like she was trying to remember a name, although she was actually busy regretting that she couldn't safely tell him about Harry's many acquaintances, "some old friend of his dad or another…or maybe it was some distant wizard relative of his…? I don't remember, but it's his last ditch strategy to find something." she said, cheerfully shaking off her "faulty" memory.

He smiled too, managing to only look a little bit suspicious…but then, he used the same trick often enough to recognize it, and there was no real need for either of them to comment.

They both hid secrets from each other about their respective "sides" in the wizarding war; they both knew that the other was hiding information. And, wisely, neither cared to say anything about it. They both knew that the other probably held crucial information that could help the other's side triumph, but their ability to hold their peace on that matter was what made their relationship so special. They knew where their loyalties lay, and never tried to get the other to see why they chose to give that side their loyalty. They never spoke about the war, only about little personal trifles, insignificant but usually amusing facts or anecdotes about their lives, nothing important; occasionally he'd help her with Potions, and she'd help him with whichever of his studies he needed assistance in (especially Muggle Studies – it seemed safest). They never made too many jibes about the other's friends, family or teams, or questioned each other about their motives or their opinions.

They didn't need to.

Because they understood each other perfectly, ever nuance, every pause in the middle of a sentence that hid a misstep; after five months with every possible moment spent together, there was very little about the other they couldn't understand.

Because they both knew how forbidden their relationship was, and knew how their friends and teammates would react. Neither of them cared.

Because they were in love.