a/n: Once again an announcement for my new readers who haven't read the old draft- This IS NOT a dramione. It is a ROMIONE. Just trust me.
This chapter is very very different from the old one both in terms of the tone of the story and the content.

I can't thank callieskye enough for taking out time and getting to this done at such short notice. I love that girl so much.

And last but not the least- thanks to each one of you for giving this story so much love and for your lovely reviews and fic recs!


Chapter 18: Once and For All?

Arnold Ainsworth was a man in his late sixties. Once an esteemed Auror and a close friend of Alastor Moody, he had lived through Voldemort's first rising and had lost his entire family to the Death Eaters. In the early 1980s, he had relocated to Japan only to return after Voldemort's final fall. Kingsley Shacklebolt had especially requested him to come out of retirement and take up the position of Honorary Head of the Auror Department while Harry Potter managed the actual workings. Arnold's job primarily consisted of attending Ministry meetings and press conferences. Harry, Kingsley had told him, preferred to keep away from the press as much as he could and Arnold couldn't blame the boy.

This morning, Ainsworth sat sipping his tea in the Minister's own chambers, waiting for the latter to join him. It was a while before Kingsley finished signing off various important scrolls and sent his assistant away.

Approaching the ageing wizard, Kingsley sunk into the couch with an audible sigh and poured himself a cup of steaming hot tea.

"What came up so early?" Kingsley asked after he had taken a long sip.

Ainsworth removed the gold-rimmed glasses that were perched on his nose and picked up the morning's edition of the Daily Prophet.

"Have you read it yet?" he asked, handing the newspaper to the Minister.

Kingsley watched the tall figure in Auror robes flicker out of the picture before he met Ainsworth's eyes.

"Saw the headline," he replied, grim. "What was it?"

"Burglary and a murder attempt."

"All okay?" asked the Minister again.

"Well, old Bethany Parkers is doing jolly good. The gang that attempted the burglary- not so much. We had to get them to the hospital straight after arresting them."

"Ron." Kingsley exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What does his team think?" he asked at last.

Ainsworth's aged eyes took a long look at the man he had inducted into the team years ago.

"Kingsley, Weasley handled the whole mission alone. He didn't even need a backup. What do you think the team will say?" he asked. "I think they are all intimidated by him and in awe as well. He is just-"

"Ruthless?" asked Kingsley, looking guilt-torn.

"Reminds me of Alastor back at his peak, but somehow more reckless and even more dangerous."

"He wasn't always like that," sighed the Minister.

The two men sipped deeply from their cups. "What did the Prophet report?" Kingsley asked after a while.

"They were all praises- except for a column by Skeeter." Ainsworth flipped open the newspaper to point at one article.

'Renowned Auror or Masked Terror?'- read the article.

"She's just bitter that she fell for the trap six years ago," Kingsley retorted angrily.

"She is."

"Do you think someone might press charges against him?"

"I doubt it'll come to that, at least in this case but he needs to tone it down." The older of the two wizards patted his once under trainee on the shoulder. "Have a word with him, he'll listen to you," Ainsworth advised.

…...

Draco stood outside the pale yellow door, one hand resting on the frame, brows furrowed in worry. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so formal about visiting her; he was more accustomed to Apparating straight in. But everything had changed suddenly.

He exhaled softly through his mouth and pushed away the nagging doubts in his head to press down on the bell. Seconds turned into minutes and his anxiety grew. A part of him wanted to walk right in- behave as if everything was just as it was until a week ago. And yet, nothing was the same anymore- he could feel it even though he wasn't ready to acknowledge it.

He Hadn't seen Hermione the disastrous evening when she had returned from Ottery St Catchpole. He didn't know how the situation at her parents was, he hadn't even seen her at the Ministry either. The second bit was a conscious choice. He just wanted her to seek him out. Hermione hadn't.

And so, he had pushed aside his jealousy and doubts to find his way back to her home. He tried his level best to forget about the nagging fear, a scenario where she returned to Weasley and left him alone. But the morning paper was clear about one thing- Ron Weasley was on duty the previous night. And in the end, it was this news that had given him the hope to walk into her office. He had expected to see her engrossed in some dusty old records, dreamt that she'd beam up at him and confess that she was just buried under her enormous workload. But Hermione wasn't at work either- in fact, she had taken a very uncharacteristic half-day off. His fear had reared its ugly head again and before he could convince himself to stay aloof, he had arrived at her place.

He rang the bell again and counted to ten before swiftly muttering a few incantations that unlocked the wards and he walked in.

There was no sign of her in the house which stood eerily silent and Draco fought back images of finding her in Ron's arms as he searched the small flat until he found her in her bedroom. Alone.

Hermione wasn't in her nightclothes. She was still in her denims and a blue button-down and looked as if she had returned from somewhere and fallen asleep only after discarding her robes. Old, dusty scrolls were littered around her bed, he could also see a half-finished cup of coffee on the bedside table.

His arm reached out to touch her on instinct and he caught himself at the last minute, choosing to call her instead. A part of him still contemplated leaving- what if she pushed him away again? But he needed her, he reminded himself.

"Hermione?" he called once softly and then again. She woke up with a jerk the third time looking around scared until her eyes fell on him, her brows furrowed slightly. Draco ignored the pang in his chest as he forced a smile.

"What happened? Annett said you took the morning off? Are you alright?" he asked hurriedly, still standing while Hermione slowly seemed to be coming out of the sleep-induced daze.

"Yes," she said at last with a small smile. "Where have you been?"

'Waiting,' he wanted to say but swallowed the words. "Just a little busy," he said instead.

"Still on the Werewolf one?" she asked, and he nodded, quietly wondering to himself if she was just being polite or if things were reverting back to normal between them.

"Let's get some tea," she said suddenly, leaving the bed and setting it up with an easy flick of her wand.

Draco followed wordlessly as she moved into the kitchen. Hermione pulled up her hair and knotted it into a messy bun on top of her head before she refilled the kettle, putting it on to boil.

"I wanted to talk to you anyway," she said in a strange voice as she grabbed a couple of mugs and his heart gave an ugly lurch.

He pulled a chair and sat down, trying to sound as composed as possible, "Really? About what?"

Hermione answered only when she had returned with two steaming cups and handed him one. She brushed her hair off her face, seemingly building up her courage and Draco took a sip, regretting it immediately as his mouth burned.

"Draco-" she paused, and pressed her lips together, "Will, will you marry me?" she asked in a rush.

He was so shocked he dropped the cup with a thud and some tea spilled out on the table.

It was a while before he found his voice. "Are you serious?" he asked watching her closely, his heart thudding inside his chest. "I- "

"Draco?" she asked again and he released a sigh, shook his head and smiled before he met her eyes.

"You are actually serious about this?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she smiled. But the smile didn't reach her eyes. He was just about to grasp her hands in his when he paused.

"Is there something I should know?" he managed quietly.

She seemed to ponder for a moment before she placed her cup down. "Mum isn't doing well. And- and I want to make at least one of her dreams come true- just in case…"

"And- that's the only reason?" he asked against his better judgement. Fuck, she had just proposed and why was he asking questions and not slipping a ring on her finger already?

"You've supported me in everything the past few years," she provided, slowly. Supported her, she said, not 'loved' her.

He continued to look into her eyes, and before he knew it, the words were out of his mouth. They sounded bitter. "And what about Weasley?"

Hermione looked away and stared firmly into her cup. "What about him?" she asked in a small voice.

"Will you be able to - forget what you had with him. Forget him?"

"I don't know," she admitted and the brutally honest statement hurt more than he had thought it would.

"Then why?"

"Because I've got to stop running in circles," she replied. "And I thought you wanted this?" she asked of him.

"I still do," he replied fiercely. "I've waited to tell you myself, Hermione! But- but now… I don't know," he sighed. "I'm just not sure why you want this all of a sudden."

"Draco, I -the condition mum is in is because of me."

"What?" he asked incredulously and she told him about the happenings of the previous night, wiping away an occasional tear. There was a deep strength in her eyes when she looked at him at last.

"She had an accident when I was three. It was caused by my uncontrolled burst of magic. And that's what has triggered her genetic disease." She seemed to struggle for words, "Her condition is deteriorating. And we-we've been together for a while, then why not-"

"Will you ever be able to forget him?" he asked again against his better judgement. And she looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes. There was a strange determination in them which both gave him hope and scared him.

"Neither of us can change our past, Draco. Ron will always be a part of my past, a part of who I am today," she admitted. "I won't lie to you. It's quite possible, I won't be able to forget him at all. And that is the truth. Brutal yes, but the truth nonetheless. He wasn't just my first love. Had our relationship been limited only to that, then perhaps, over the years, he would have become a distant memory. But fortunately or unfortunately that is not the only thing that made up our relationship."

Draco ignored the screams of the jealous monster in his heart as Hermione continued.

"Do you know why I read up the year's worth of books even before I stepped into Hogwarts?" she asked and chuckled sadly to herself as he watched her, remembering the bushy-haired girl he hated back then. "I read because I didn't want to be that outsider who knew nothing about the world she actually belonged in," she sighed and took a sip before pushing her empty cup away and stared at her hands. "I was born a witch, but I had no connection with the magical world, no family, no familiar faces- nothing. All my connections were in the muggle world where again, I did not belong. I belonged nowhere, Draco," she chuckled bitterly before wiping off a tear. "Ron and Harry were my links with the wizarding world. They were my first family and in a way, my roots in this world. Our friendship wasn't just about sharing classes or notes either. With Harry's life practically hanging on a thread every single year, for me and Ron, it was more of a struggle to keep him alive, one year at a time. Maybe that is what brought us together, you know, the shared goal."

She paused and Draco took a swig of his lukewarm tea wishing it was Firewhiskey instead.

"Ron never got enough credit," she went on as if unable to stop now that she was allowing herself to speak. "Harry was destined to face Voldemort-" He cringed at the name but she didn't notice. "-with or without me, with or without Ron. That was his destiny. I would be marked anyway because I was a Muggleborn," she shrugged. "Staying with Harry and Ron increased my chance of survival. Although, that is not why I stood by them. I'm just stating the facts, you know? But Ron? He is a Pureblood. He could have stayed back. Could have stayed under the protection of his blood status and his family. But he didn't. He chose to fight, chose to stand by a marked man for years, and chose to put his entire family in danger to stand by his friends," she said fiercely. "That kind of courage and loyalty doesn't come easy, Draco. While Harry was busy saving the world, Ron was busy saving him, busy defending my honour, busy saving me."

She sighed and slowly pulled his hands into hers, and he soaked in her touch hungrily. He wasn't sure anymore why she was choosing him over Weasley but he was selfish enough to take whatever she was offering.

"But then he threw everything away," she added, breaking his musing. There was bitterness in her words and hurt. "He cut me off from his life as if I didn't matter at all, and went on his way to earn his name and fame. Perhaps I lost my selfless Ron sometime during the war?" she choked as if remembering something, "Or perhaps, I never had him at all?" she added with difficulty. She remained lost in thought and spoke after a while, attempting to hide the melancholy with a chuckle that sounded rather sad. "Maybe I saw more than there was, maybe it was all just in my head."

She paused again and bit her lower lip as she struggled to find words.

"He was my first in more ways than one," she said in a small voice and although Draco had always assumed it anyway, hearing it was like a punch in the gut. "I can't change my past but I can promise you my future. Will that be enough for you?"

Could he live with that?

He looked at the girl who had taught him to live without looking down at others, who had made him a better person, the one who had taught him to love, to live. All these years he had feared the time when Ron Weasley would be back. He had always feared the tremors Weasley could cause in Hermione's life- tremors which would eventually trickle down into Draco's relationship with her. But now, even with Weasley in the picture, she had chosen Draco. Could he live knowing that she had been someone else's? Maybe not, but he could live with the thought that she would be his forever.

He looked into those deep brown orbs that were searching for answers in his eyes.

"More than enough, Hermione," he smiled.

…..