Chapter 54 - Aftermath

Afterwards, Harry explained what he thought had happened.

"It answered to somebody else," he told Ron, Hermione, Draco, Luna, Neville, and Ginny once they all met together at the broken bridge outside of Hogwarts. "When he killed Snape, or thought he did, it was because he thought that Snape was the wand's master, and so by killing him, it would become his. But...the wand never belonged to Snape."

Harry turned to Draco. "It was you who disarmed Dumbledore, that night on the Astronomy Tower. From that moment on, the wand answered to you."

"But then...when I gave you my wand, back then at Shell Cottage..." Draco finished for him. "From then on, you were the Elder Wand's true master."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. It's mine."

"Woah!" Ron gasped, looking excited despite himself. "So, what'll we do with it?"

"We?!" Hermione and Ginny echoed incredulously.

"I'm just saying!" Ron argued defensively, holding up his hands. "That's the Elder Wand, after all, the most powerful wand in the world. With that, Harry, you'd be invincible."

"I don't know..." Neville muttered, looking very worn out as he leaned against Luna for support. "Seems to me the only thing that wand's good for is damage. I mean, think of the story, Harry: wizard after wizard has been hunted down for it, right from the first eldest brother who had it in the story. I mean, it's only a matter of time until—"

"Yeah, but everyone who's ever been or ever is going to be after Harry is either dead or won't stand a chance now!" Ron said. "I mean, my mum killed Bellatrix Lestrange, there in the Great Hall, Voldemort's dead, and so are most of the other death eaters out there." He glanced at Draco, who was too tired to even take offense anymore at the obvious reference to his family. "And for those who aren't, I mean, it's not like they'd dare try, and even if they do...there's just no winning against that thing. You'd be the most powerful wizard in the world, Harry."

But Harry just sighed and shook his head. "I agree with Neville. This wand may be powerful, but all it's ever been used for has brought death and sorrow to its user. Voldemort...Grigorovich, Grindelwald...even Dumbledore. Even he could have done so much with this wand once he had it, but he didn't. He didn't save my parents...or yours, Neville. He didn't save so many people he could have—not even himself. All he did was save me, and it was because he knew I had to die by Voldemort's hand and fulfill the prophecy. The wand may have given him power, but it didn't help him in any way.

"I don't want it."

Everyone stared at him in silence for a minute, until finally Draco asked, "So what happens now?"

Harry took the wand in both hands and deftly snapped it in half. Ron gasped in surprise and regret, as did Ginny and even Hermione, but Luna and Draco watched on in grim satisfaction as the Chosen One took both pieces of the wand and threw them off the bridge, into the abyss.

"Now...we see where we go from here," he said.

In the days following the Battle of Hogwarts, the reporters and photographers of every Wizarding World newspaper sought out Harry Potter, his friends, and all students of Hogwarts relentlessly. While the Ministry was scrambling to bring itself to order now that Voldemort's established government was deposed, and while Aurors were sent off left and right to search for the remaining death eaters that lurked in the shadows, it was only in brief moments that the survivors of the battle had any respite.

Professor McGonagall had taken over as headmistress of Hogwarts, seeing to the repairs and rebuilding, hoping to have the school reopen again that autumn—even if they had to postpone the year for a late start.

The seventh year students never got a graduation, though their degrees were conferred on all of them accordingly—Harry, Hermione, and Ron's included, despite the fact that they had technically never finished out their education. Professor McGonagall overrode that usual consideration though, and professed them all wizards of the highest order in terms of how powerful their magic was and how ready they were to enter the world as adults.

Harry was once again hailed as a hero to the world, photographed relentlessly and asked any number of questions—most of them about what he would do next—but during all interviews he was strangely quiet. Some, like Rita Skeeter, dubbed Harry a "mysterious" and almost "mythical" figure as a result, but Harry himself didn't pay much attention to the publicity he was receiving.

The only true interview he gave was to Luna, to have printed in the Quibbler, which for once saw an unprecedented spike in sales as a result. In the article, Harry very honestly spoke to how he wasn't the hero of the war, or really even a hero at all—that title should go to all those who had passed away during the Third Wizarding War. Lupin and Tonks, both survivors of the war who retreated to a quiet home life with their son, praised him for his words to all those departed, knowing that he was thinking particularly of people like Sirius and Mad-Eye Moody when he spoke.

In the article, there was one controversial statement of Harry's that everyone picked up on, and which shocked the world so greatly that Harry was called upon as a witness in court later on to testify on the person's behalf:

His very honest statement that Severus Snape, who had recovered from his wounds and from Nagini's venom, was the biggest hero of all, and the bravest man that Harry had ever known.

Snape's trial was set to the end of summer for his crimes against the Wizarding World, with charges ranging from treason to murder, and just about everything inbetween. Until then, he was being held in prison though, along with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, who had both given themselves up shortly after the Battle at Hogwarts had ended. As a result, their own trials had taken place much sooner, with Lucius sentenced to five years in prison—minimum—and Narcissa on parole for a year, to be confined to her home and what was left of the grounds at Malfoy Manor.

At his father's trial, which took place about a fortnight after the battle, Lucius wouldn't even look at Draco, who stood by along with Hermione and watched the proceedings. Although Narcissa had testified for her husband, there hadn't been much to say, and Draco himself wasn't called up to the stand at all.

It might have been because Draco wasn't listed by his parents as a viable witness—their relationship of course making his testimony biased—but in truth it was because Draco himself had barely gotten off scot-free. For some of his supposed crimes, like becoming a death eater and helping in the demise of Dumbledore, he had not been charged, as he had been underage at the time. As for the torture of his fellow students at Hogwarts, surprisingly it was McGonagall's testimony that excused him for this, overstating the pressures of his position and how he likely would have been killed himself if he hadn't done what he was told.

Draco honestly thought that the same thing might have been said of Severus, for whom he insisted on being a witness, but it didn't matter. Draco was still young enough to escape without a sentence—though the Ministry would be keeping tabs on him and set up a weekly meeting with a private counsellor that he would have to attend—but Lucius and Severus just weren't. His family was only receiving the punishment that they might well have expected.

Throughout everything, Hermione had been by Draco's side, though he could well have spared her that, given how exhausted she was. At his trial—unofficial, and certainly not as grandiose as his father's—she hadn't been allowed to testify though, as she and Draco had been recognized as being together—and yes, Rita Skeeter made big headlines with that—and therefore Hermione wasn't a reliable witness. With Harry Potter as a witness though, all of the gaps had been filled in regardless, and Draco had been branded a "victim of circumstance". Other than his friends though, no one much cheered when it came out that he got off with as light a punishment as possible, one that practically meant nothing.

Contrary to expectations though, Draco did not join his mother at Malfoy Manor, though she pleaded with him to come and see her. The truth was that he simply couldn't go back there ever again, and certainly couldn't ever think of it as his home.

Instead, he went back to his lakehouse, where he and Hermione had first met. He set up housekeeping there and, about a month after his father's trial (one month before Severus's), once things had died down, he apparated to Hermione's temporary apartment in Diagon Alley to ask her to come live with him.

As it was, Draco was extremely nervous making this request, for personal reasons as well as practical ones. Unlike him, who had sort of faded into the background after his father's trial, Hermione was still the center of attention along with Harry and Ron, and therefore had an image to maintain as...well, as a hero. And though that term was applied ready enough to the rest of Harry's friends, so far no one had named Draco as heroic in the least, apart from Harry in his Quibbler interview.

The stark difference, and his separation from Hermione, made it clear to Draco just how different from them he still was and, even after all that happened, his old doubts were starting to creep back into his mind.

And it was for this reason, as much as to see Hermione again, that he came to her now.

It was Friday night, about as quiet as it could get in Diagon Alley. Hermione's apartment was one of many in the boarding houses there, impersonal and, though homey enough, not really fit for her. And though Draco couldn't see how she could make a much better home with him amongst his elitist surroundings at the lakehouse, he had to at least try asking her, for his own peace of mind.

Hermione answered at his first knock, looking at first exhausted when she answered the door, then brightening up once she saw it was him. They had been keeping in contact via patronus messages every night, but this was the first time in a week that they had seen each other face-to-face—at Draco's insistence. It was no wonder that she was surprised to see him now.

"Draco!" she breathed, drawing him in for an immediate hug.

She held onto him so tightly as she pulled him into her room that for a moment Draco wondered if she meant to crack his ribs; but then he noticed that he was hanging on to her just as tightly. Easing up just a bit, he pulled back to look down at her, doubly surprised when she tilted her head back and pressed her lips to hers.

He couldn't help his reaction, though this was not what he had come for—not initially, anyway. Bringing his arms around her again, Draco kissed her ravenously, as though he couldn't get enough of her, couldn't taste enough of her to ever be satisfied.

"Hemione," he sighed, once they finally needed to pull back to breathe. "Merlin, I've missed you."

Hermione smiled, leading him over to her temporary bed to sit down. "It was you who insisted we needed to keep our distance for a while, though I'm glad to see you're regretting that now. I was beginning to wonder if it was hard on you at all, or if it was just me."

"It's always been hard for me to be away from you," Draco confessed, putting an arm around her and drawing her close. He buried his face his her wild curls, unwilling to let her see his face just then. "I thought you knew that."

"Always?" Hermione teased, slipping her hand into his.

"Always," Draco repeated. "Ever since I first realized that I was in love with you, it's been the foremost thing on my mind—how long until I see you again, how long could I keep you by my side, what I'd have to do to make sure you never left me. And I was convinced you'd leave me, right up until the very end."

Hermione turned to look at him, but was held in place as he refused to let her see his expression. "Even during the battle—even after all we've been through?"

"Even then, and even now, just before I came in," Draco said. "I can't help it, though I am trying to. A part of me will always think that though, and realize that you have better options, better men to be with."

Hermione snorted incredulously. "Like who?"

Draco sniffed. "Weasley, for one."

"I don't love him like that, Draco," Hermione cut in before he could continue.

"Maybe not, but he loves you that way," Draco said. "You can see it every time he looks at you, and it's only been knowing that you care for him as a friend that's stopped me hexing him every time he looks at you like a lovesick owl or something. But yes, he'd be a better option for you, one among many. At least you can walk beside him on the street and people wouldn't point at you and wonder what the hell you were thinking."

Hermione shook her head. "It's no one's business but our own, anyway," she said, a hint of bitterness in her voice. "And someday, people will stop wondering about you as well. They'll see how you've helped us win this war—truly, they will. It just...takes time, and right now the wounds of everyone are still too fresh."

Draco could speak well to that. After all, he'd received countless death threats and worse from some of the parents of the students he'd tortured before. As it was, though McGonagall had conferred his degree and even testified for him at his trial, Draco noted how she hadn't invited him to the Battle of Hogwarts mass funeral that she'd hosted a while back. Draco supposed he couldn't blame her, though—his presence would only have served as an unpleasant reminder of certain things at what was already bound to be a depressing ceremony.

Hermione had missed him there though, and amidst getting her own life together, supporting her friends—Ron in particular with his family and the passing of Fred, as well as Harry, who was all alone and for now had retired to 12 Grimmauld Place—and of course avoiding the press, she hadn't had time to think as much of her own wants and needs. If she could though, then seeing Draco would have been at the top of that list, despite knowing the difficulties that were ahead for them now that their relationship had been exposed to the public.

She wouldn't have changed a thing though—not about their past, not about him. Ultimately, they were together now, and that's all that mattered.

"Maybe," Draco murmured in temporary agreement to her previous statement. "Until then though, we'll have to keep ourselves to ourselves, I suppose." It helped that he wasn't the biggest fan of PDA anyway, though he wondered if Hermione was. She didn't seem like it, but then again, she was a bold Gryffindor...

"That's not a bad idea," Hermione said, snuggling closer to him and cutting off his train of thought. "By the way, what made you come tonight anyway? Knowing you, it can't just be that you missed me?"

Draco snorted, pulling back at last to look at her. "And why not, Granger?" he teased.

"Because, Malfoy, you're a Slytherin, and there's always more than one reason to everything you do—and that reason isn't usually emotional. So, let's have it."

Draco smirked. "Think you know me that well, do you?"

"Draco..."

"As it so happens, I am here with a proposition for you, Hermione."

"Oh?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow, intrigued and looking characteristically like herself for the first time in a long while. "And what would that be?"

If Draco was the type of man to blush, he would have as he realized just how inappropriate it must have sounded, but fortunately he was a master at hiding his emotions. "I took a good look at this room in the few minutes I've been here. I came to investigate at first, but, seeing this and how you're living, I think it's my duty to bring you out of the miserable poverty they call a 'house'. I've decided that just about anywhere's better for you than here, and that includes my lakehouse."

Though masked behind his usual snarkiness and round-the-bush logic, Hermione recognized his invitation for that it was.

"You...you're asking me to come live with you?" she asked, because of course she knew that Draco had made his residence there instead of at Malfoy Manor.

Draco once again avoided looking at her. "It's the best option I have to offer now, though once some files are processed and I finally get ahold of that family fortune that's coming my way—"

But he didn't get to finish, for Hermione had once again wrapped her arms around him, flinging him backward on the bed in her enthusiasm.

"Yes, Draco. Yes," she breathed, the certainty in her words once again breaking down all of the walls that Draco had put around himself since the time they had been apart. Over and over again, she somehow managed to do it, and each time Draco found himself profoundly grateful that she had. Unreservedly, he embraced her back, then wrapped his arm around her neck and brought her down for another kiss.

This time, their lips lingered in passion over one another's, their breaths mingling as each one paused as though to say something, but then never did. Then, when Draco bit Hermione's lip playfully, she moaned in response, and they each pulled back in surprise as they realized where this was going—where it was bound to go, now that everything was over with and they were no longer fearing for their lives.

It had happened: the war had ended and they were both still alive, they were allowed to be together. Most people might disapprove, Draco's father included, but ultimately it was their choice, and there was no one to stop them.

They could truly start being together, and living together was just the first step.

Incentivized by this, Draco leaned forward to continue what they had started, when suddenly Hermione placed a hand on Draco's chest, stopping him.

"Wait, Draco," she said.

For a moment, Draco's world plummeted. Did that mean that she didn't...that he'd misunderstood, that...

Seeming to read his thoughts, Hermione quickly kissed him again, leaving no doubt that she wanted this as much as he did. "Not yet, Draco, not here. I'd rather wait and make it special—it'll, um, be my first time, after all." And she blushed, looking more desirable than ever before.

Swallowing back the lump in his throat and trying to hold himself back, Draco slid her off of him gently, until she lay beside him. "And you think at my lakehouse would be better? With the Slytherin memorabilia everywhere, and the reminder of how we come from different worlds?"

Hermione smiled, bringing herself closer to him in the crook of his arm. "I no longer associate those things with what I used to. Now, they just make up part of who you are, the same way as being a Gryffindor makes up part of who I am. But nothing about us that would have kept us apart before makes any difference now. I love you, Draco, and I want it to be you, to be together with you in every way. U-unless you think that's going too far, that..."

But she didn't have to say any more for Draco to realize what she meant, where her own hesitation lay.

Cupping her chin, Draco gazed into her eyes and let down his guard entirely, let her see all of what he felt. "I'm not like my family, Hermione," he murmured. "And I haven't thought that way about you once ever since we started this, except of course to hate myself for being such an idiot all those years and treating you like you were less, when really I was just jealous of you and let my upbringing get the better of me.

"I want you in that way, Hermione, in every way. I want to please you and make love to you and..." He cursed under his breath. "Damn, it's my first time too, only a man doesn't think as much about making it 'special'!"

Hermione blinked in surprise. "Wait, you never—"

"I spent my teenage years a little too busy getting traumatized," Draco snorted. "I didn't exactly have time to—"

"No, I mean...Pansy? Not anyone ever...?"

"Quite a few girls in my house offered, Pansy more than most," Draco admitted. "But I couldn't take any of them seriously, and now I'm glad I didn't."

Hermione blushed beet red. "I...oh. Wow. B-but, um, why couldn't you?"

"They were obviously more interested in whatever 'status' they thought I had as the Dark Lord's 'chosen one,'" Draco said, shuddering a little as he mentioned the dark wizard. "None of them ever really knew me though, not even Pansy. She as good as admitted it herself the last time we spoke."

Hermione stiffened. "Oh. Yeah. Any idea what happened to her, though?"

Draco sighed. "She ran away, I think, though it's good we're talking about her now."

"Why?"

He smirked. "Because it completely killed the mood, and now I can get myself out of here before we do something we'll both regret here."

Just as Hermione was about to protest, Draco placed a finger on her lips, effectively shushing her. "Not that we'll regret it at the lakehouse, though. I'll be back tomorrow morning to help you move in, alright?"

And Hermione, blushing as she realized how smooth and charming Draco Malfoy could be when he put his mind to it, could only nod and let him leave without another word.

Fat chance of her getting a good night's sleep in the meantime, though.

A/N: Aaaand la-dee-DONE! Whew! Okay, so clearly more of a lovey-dovey chapter here, but I think we need more of those after war scene after war scene after war scene. Putting in enough of a time gap between the end of the war and this conversation also helps make it clear that Draco and Hermione won't just be getting together at the end of the battle in order to relieve tension or anything like that. I wanted to get them to start their life together under reasonable circumstances, in order to give them both time to heal just a bit.

For those who may at this time be wondering what comes next in terms of events, now that we've gotten through the canon of all of J.K. Rowling's events, basically, as I mentioned waaaay at the beginning of the story, there is a post-Hogwarts/war arc in this. That will mostly involve tying up some lose ends, and basically just reimagining the ending of the story the way I want it to happen, with Dramione as our main pairing.

Stay tuned for more updates soon, and in the meantime, please review, follow, and favourite, as always!