My heart was racing and my stomach was churning, threatening to reject the meagre amount of toast and tea I'd managed to swallow before reality had crashed down on me once more.

The Prophet was open to the society pages on my kitchen table and I watched as Draco leaned in and kissed Astoria on the cheek while they were out shopping, celebrating their anniversary in Paris.

Had they taken a photographer along with them, like they had for the fucking maternity photos? Or had Lucius tipped someone off?

It was the first time Draco had really been seen in public since his 'accident' and I was sure the press had been contacting him for interviews since he'd woken up.

His hand was on Astoria's waist, his arm looped around her as they walked. It was the same way we'd used to walk together when we'd get away for a weekend. Even though he was with a different woman, his mannerisms were the same.

However, it was the second picture that sent me into a spin. They were standing across the street from the hotel where we'd spent Valentine's Day last year. Our hotel. Our place. And they were fucking kissing like they'd been in love for years. Astoria's arms moved up around his neck, and I saw her tongue work its way into his mouth over and over again, prompting him to angle his hips towards her.

He was aroused. He was happy.

I hadn't been special in any way. He didn't need me. Lucius had been right — I was the problem between them. As soon as I was out of the picture, he had fallen in love with her.

It had been six months. Six fucking months and it wasn't any easier. My heart was still beating for him. Why wasn't it going away? I hadn't even seen him, for Merlin's sake. In that moment, I felt exactly the same as I had on the day I'd returned home after erasing his memories. As I watched the photos of Draco and Astoria on a loop, The utter hopelessness came back. He was still fucking perfect, looking as gorgeous as ever, and she was, too. Her long blonde hair was straight and smooth and her tall body was still slim, even post-pregnancy. After he kissed her cheek, she smiled, her blue eyes sparkling with happiness.

Jumping up from my chair, I started pacing, taking a moment to close my Floo off. If Harry and Blaise were around, I was sure they would make their way here after they saw the paper, and I didn't want to see them. I needed to be alone, to grieve.

I hated Astoria. I truly hated her because she was happy and I was miserable. I had given her Draco and, unintentionally, all of my happiness. In my mind, I berated her for being a manipulative cow over and over.

How dare she take everything away from me!

How dare he look at her like that, the way he used to look at me!

How could this have happened?

How had he fallen in love with her?

Slowly, my belligerent ramblings came to an end, my logical mind making an appearance.

I had made this decision. I chose to give Draco back to Astoria fully — he had never really been mine in the first place. I chose to sacrifice my happiness for his family. When I really thought about it, I had made him fall in love with her, planting the seeds in his mind. Clearly, they had taken root, growing into something real.

We were never supposed to be together. Our worlds would never mesh like theirs did, especially because his parents would never accept me. Lucius' disdain over our affair had made that clear.

Accepting my fate, I slumped down, my back against the wall. I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried on the floor. I hated Draco and Astoria and Lucius, but it would never measure up to how much I fucking hated myself in that moment.

Dear Draco,

It was your anniversary yesterday. I made it through almost the whole day without realising it. Isn't that amazing?

However, this morning, your picture was splashed across the society pages. Apparently, you and Astoria went to Paris yesterday. It's only the second time I've seen a recent photo of you, and you look as wonderful as ever. I'm so jealous that she gets to call you her husband. I suppose I've always been jealous of that.

Yesterday marked two years since the first time we slept together, and six months since the last time. I can still remember the way you taste, the way your hands somehow managed to skim over every inch of my skin when we made love.

I haven't been with anyone else yet. I'm not ready, and I know that no one will ever compare to you, especially in that department.

I keep trying to blame your father or Astoria, or on my worst days, you for this whole situation. It's ridiculous. I know that it's all my fault. I chose to do this, to send you away. Over and over, I keep repeating that it was for the best. You have a son. You have a wife. You don't even know what you're missing, what I'm missing. Lucius will kill my parents if I don't stay away from you.

I just can't stop obsessing. Every time I feel like I've made progress, it all comes crashing down. Sometimes, I get frustrated with myself, especially when other people tell me I need to let you go and try again with someone new, but even the thought of another man touching me is just… repulsive. I just can't do it.

I don't know how I'm supposed to move on when my brain is completely stuck on you.

Just know that I miss you, and I regret the decision I made every fucking day. I especially regret today since I saw the love in your eyes when you looked at Astoria in the photo. Good Godric, that fucking hurt.

I love you. Always.

Hermione

When I didn't show up to work on Monday, Harry took down my wards. He broke into my house and scooped me out of bed, shaking me slightly.

"This isn't you, Hermione! You don't just shut everyone out and not show up to work. I covered for you, but I won't keep doing it!" Harry roared at me, his inner lion making itself known.

I nodded at him, tears filling my eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. Harry, I can't — I just can't. I don't know how to keep going," I cried, not knowing what else to do.

Deep down, I knew I was a mess and making horrible decisions, that losing a man was not supposed to make me feel this way. The tenuous control I'd held over my life since January had snapped when I saw the photos of Draco and Astoria in the paper. While I had known I shouldn't be on my own, I didn't call anyone to come stay with me. Blaise was away on a mission, and Harry had Pansy and the boys to care for. Ron was just not an option, and Ginny was already off at a training camp for the Harpies.

Ultimately, I was making excuses. I had consciously decided to shut myself away and not ask for help.

"I should've come when I saw the paper," Harry said, running his hand through his hair. "Good Godric, I fucked up again. I convinced myself you'd come to Grimmauld Place if you needed me. Fuck, I should've known."

Feeling horrible, I grabbed Harry's face. "This is not your fault. I thought I had it all under control, but I realise now that I've just been pretending."

"Hermione, I knew you didn't have things under control, and I've been so wrapped up in my own life that I didn't bother to check in on you. When I saw those pictures in the paper, I knew that you'd be upset. I'm a selfish arsehole," Harry stated, his voice firm.

I took a deep breath, knowing this was going to be hard for me to admit. "I think I need help again. I… think it would be best if you took me back to the hospital for a while. You're absolutely right; I'm still not coping well. I've not left the bed except to use the loo since Saturday morning."

Seeing the tears in Harry's eyes, I pulled him into an embrace. "Of course I will, but is that really what you want? You could come and stay at ours. You know we have the space."

After a minute or so, I shook my head. "I won't do that, Harry. I don't want to upset Pansy or the boys. I just don't think it's a good idea for me to be on my own right now."

He was conflicted — so worried about me, so frustrated with me — but at the same time, he didn't want me to be alone in the hospital. If I refused to stay with him, he'd want me to stay with a friend — someone who he knew and could contact — but I wouldn't impose on anyone. It was bad enough that I had already done that at Christmas, letting both him and Ron sit there with no acknowledgement. When Blaise got home, he would be furious that I'd readmitted myself rather than staying with a friend, but I couldn't think about him right now. I had to do what was right for me, and I knew I was going to be a bitch to whoever was in charge of caring for me. I'd rather have Penelope Clearwater hate me than Harry, Pansy, or Blaise.

"Hermione, you wouldn't upset Pansy, and the boys are much too young to realise there's anything wrong. Please come and stay with us. If you feel suffocated, or like it's not working, you can choose to go to St. Mungo's or to Zabini's or wherever you'd like," Harry pleaded, trying to make his case.

He seemed so earnest, like he actually wanted me at his house, wanted to take care of me and help me get back to normal. I looked into the green eyes of my best friend, the man who I'd stood by through thick and thin as a teenager, and I realised he needed to do this for me. Harry always wanted things to be equal and I knew he likely viewed this as an opportunity to make things up to me, even though I had never — and would never — ask him to. Thinking about all the people that Harry had loved and lost, I admitted that he likely thought he was in danger of losing me, too. Remembering how he'd reacted to Blaise taking me away for Christmas Eve, I knew the fear was double-edged — he feared losing me to Blaise and losing me altogether, either through death or insanity.

I let out a sigh. "I'll come to Grimmauld and talk to Pansy, but I'm not promising anything, Harry. I know I'm going to be a shrew until I'm back on track again."

Harry laughed. "And you think Pansy can't handle that? Have you met her? She's ten times worse than you are on your worst day!"

"That's an awful thing to say about your wife!" I scolded. "Even if it's true."

Looking sheepish, Harry said, "You may want to clean up. You know, take a shower and all that, before we go. Like I said, Pansy is definitely worse than you could ever dream of being and you're kind of a mess right now."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Like Pansy hasn't made fun of my hair and my clothes my whole life."

"She'd take it to a whole new level today. Trust me." With that, he grabbed my hands and pulled me out of bed. "You're much too light. We're going to have to fatten you up."

I nodded, trying to convey that I'd be fine with that, when really I was terrified of having food forced on me from all angles.

Would they understand that I needed to build back up to a normal diet again? Would they give me space to just stay in bed if I needed to rest? Would Pansy berate me over what I'd done to Draco? Would she tell me it was time to get over it? It had been six months, after all.

Would they treat me like I was going to break at any moment?

These thoughts plagued me as I walked into the bathroom and started the shower. I heard Harry's heavy footsteps moving down the stairs and then the Floo activated. Like I'd assumed he would, Harry had snuck back home, likely to talk to Pansy and warn her that I was in a state. Tears flowing, I undressed, though I carefully avoided looking at my reflection in the mirror. Hopefully, I'd look a little more alive after standing under the hot water and washing.

When I got out of the shower, I lightly towel-dried my hair and ran a comb through it before securing it on the back of my head with a clip. Slipping on my dressing gown, I walked back into my bedroom. Thankfully, Harry was not there — he was either still at Grimmauld Place, trying to convince Pansy to let a complete nutter into her home, or he was waiting for me downstairs. I rummaged through my dresser, pulling out clean knickers, a bra, a pair of jeans, and a grey jumper. Dressing quickly, I slipped my feet into comfortable sheepskin boots.

After that, it was time to face the music — I looked in the mirror and hated what I saw. My skin was pale and there were dark circles under my puffy, red eyes. Hollow cheeks and thin, pale lips did nothing to make me look any better.

If Draco saw me now, he wouldn't want me, I thought to myself. Where did Hermione Granger go?

It was honestly like I'd Obliviated myself, too — or I'd at least undergone a radical personality transplant. I was not the same person that I'd been six months ago, or a year ago, or even two years ago. Yes, two years ago, I'd been lonely and felt left behind by Harry and Ron, but I didn't let it affect my health. I still went to work and took care of myself every day, eating, exercising, and sleeping properly. This loneliness was a whole new kind and I didn't know how to handle it.

Before Draco, I hadn't really known what it was like to be half of a whole, to be so entwined with another person that you're inexorably linked. When I Obliviated him, I had forcibly torn us apart at the seams and I'd lost pieces of myself. I somehow hadn't anticipated that those parts would stay with him forever.

I wondered if he could feel them, the missing pieces of me that had clung to him. He may not remember what we had, but he still carried parts of my heart and my — Spirit? Soul? — I wasn't really sure of the appropriate word to use. Meanwhile, I had the memories. I was sure he felt those pieces missing, but I wondered when it really struck him. When did he sense the absence? Did his brain try to make connections only to find a large gap?

I had finally admitted that I loved him on Valentine's Day, nearly a year after the first time we'd slept together, and eight months after we'd started the affair. Had Astoria told him she loved him on Valentine's Day? Had he made love to her? Did she feel the same kind of devotion and focus that I had the previous year? Had I done a thorough enough job that he was capable of feeling that way for her when he hadn't before?

I let out a frustrated groan, my mind not willing to accept that I was replaced that easily. Even though I'd thought it when I saw the photos in the paper, I still didn't want to believe it. It was better — easier — if I just imagined both of us living life incomplete, shattered sections of a former whole unit. I had chosen that life for us.

And I had to learn how to live with it. I had to figure out how to move on.

When I stepped through the Floo into Grimmauld Place, Pansy was sitting on the couch with baby Severus in her arms. James, it appeared, had already been put to bed. Pansy held a finger to her lips as she stood, walking slowly while rocking the baby. I watched as she carried him up the stairs, trying her hardest not to jostle and wake him. I took her vacated seat and Harry sat beside me, showing solidarity. We waited for Pansy to return in silence. When she walked back down the stairs, she eyed me sceptically.

"Granger, what the fuck is wrong with you?" she spat. "I don't get it. You're in love with Draco and then you Obliviate him and cut him out of your life. You're going to work normally, and then you have a full mental breakdown at Christmas, pulling my husband and Luna's husband into your shite and not talking to them when they come to see you—"

"Pansy, that's enough," Harry stated.

She shook her head at him. "Oh, give me a break, Potter! She needs to face the facts and it's clear that none of you are being blunt with her!" She turned to me. "You need to get your fire back, Granger. I don't know how you maintained it before, but depression isn't a good look on you."

I nearly fell over and Harry looked like he might actually murder his own wife. Of all the horrid, insensitive things I'd ever heard in my life, this had to top the list. She was actually making light of my mental health issues. I wanted to slap her, or punch her, or hex her. I felt my anger rising and my magic crackled in my veins.

Pansy smirked. "There she is. You're still in there somewhere, Hermione," she began. "Think about Lucius. Think about Astoria. Think about how fucking horrible they are for manipulating you into doing this to Draco. But, most of all, think about what they've done to you. Since when does Hermione Granger skip work or let herself go?"

I understood what Pansy was doing, but it didn't make her any less insensitive. I leaned forward, my bony elbows jabbing into the flesh of my thighs, and rested my face in my hands. When Harry stood, I quickly looked up, not wanting him to fight with Pansy on my behalf.

"Listen, Pansy. I know you're trying to help and I'm grateful for that. Merlin knows that I only have a few people who are really in my corner at the moment. But please don't pretend like you understand what I'm going through. I think that's the problem — no one can truly understand these feelings. Harry, Blaise, Ron, Luna, Ginny, you — none of you have been through this. I don't know anyone who has," I explained.

She rolled her eyes at me. "Obviously we haven't been through it. But you need to remember that we've all lost people, and isn't that what it boils down to? You lost Draco, and you're feeling lonelier than you ever imagined possible."

"Don't tell me this is how you felt when you and Draco broke up, Pansy. I swear to Merlin I will hex you so fucking fast—"

Pansy strode over to an armchair and sat down gracefully, her anger not overriding her manners. "Of course I wasn't going to say that. That was infatuation or puppy love or, well, I don't even know. I thought he'd be the best match I could make. I have no practical experience in what you're going through, but we all lost people in the war. You know as well as I do that life goes on whether you're ready or not."

Even though I understood what she was trying to say, I didn't feel like I could start living normally again. My guilt and sorrow were holding me back and I was reluctant to change my circumstances in any way. And yes, I'd lost Draco in a way similar to him being killed, but I'd had a choice. I essentially chose to kill him, to kill our relationship…

And, for that, I deserved to be miserable. I deserved to be alone.

Sensing my downward spiral, Pansy spoke again. "Listen, maybe that was a shitty comparison, but you've likely been in bed since you saw that Prophet article and you didn't even owl the Ministry today. That's not like you, Granger. I may not know you well, but I know enough to see that your behavior is not normal. You're not really living. You're just sort of… existing. I can see you've lost all the weight you put back on after Christmas, and your eyes look like they've been punched."

I knew Pansy would be harsh about my appearance, so I wasn't offended by her commentary on that subject. However, I was still upset about the way she'd trivialized my depression and then told me to use rage to claw my way out.

While I knew I could hate Lucius and Astoria for hatching the whole scheme with my parents, deep down, I knew that I had been the one to make the choice. My wand was the one that had removed Draco's memories.

And the horrible part? I hadn't even stopped to consider the alternative. I just decided to let go of Draco, to kill the version of him that I knew, and I did it as quickly as possible. I let my guilt over the affair and my concern for my parents outweigh my normal overthinking nature. I didn't look at both sides of everything, and I suddenly realized that was what I couldn't cope with. I hated myself for what I did to Draco, but more than that, I hated myself for just making a snap decision and sticking to it. That was completely out of character for me.

I let myself get lost in my own thoughts, blocking Harry and Pansy out completely. How had I not looked for every alternative before I turned my wand on Draco? I'd not really discussed things with Harry or Blaise or, hell, even Draco. He was a strong enough Occlumens that he could've hidden our conversations from his father. Surely Harry and I could've found a way to discreetly relocate my parents before Lucius could act. We'd overcome worse odds when we were teenagers without the full might of the Ministry behind us.

Looking back, I don't know how this thought had never struck me before. I'd gone through various stages of anger with myself and with others, waves of crushing sadness, and short periods of recovery. Not once had I ever realized I'd just basically said fuck it without giving it a second thought. In a way, since the day Draco had told me about the pregnancy, I'd been distancing myself. Thinking back, I was also angry with him — so fucking angry that he'd slept with Astoria, that he'd gotten her pregnant, as twisted as that was. And I had also been angry with myself — I was all for empowering women, but I had been sleeping with another woman's husband. For the love of Merlin, just to be with him, I'd changed my core values. But I knew I wouldn't be able to give him up as long as we were in close proximity. If he kept pursuing me, I'd relent, just like I had at the beginning of everything.

I could feel the tears streaming down my face, but I didn't care. I was so deep in my self-loathing, a darkness the likes of which I'd never felt overwhelming me. My brain was repeating the facts on a loop.

You slept with him, knowing he was getting married the next day. When he got back from his honeymoon, you let him chase you for a month, all over London and the office, and then you gave in. Shagging him became your first priority that summer — you skipped out on all your friends, all your plans. Blaise warned you that none of it would end well.

Harry's hands were on my shoulders — he was kneeling in front of me, trying to get me to respond to him, but I couldn't. I just fucking couldn't stop the tirade my brain had begun.

And then you let him take you away for your birthday. It was an affair, something fun to pass the time, and Draco was willing to make the time for you. Harry and Ron were still busy, still new parents, wrapped up in their perfect fucking lives.

"Hermione! What's going on? You need to answer me!" Harry's voice was raised, not quite at a shout, but still loud.

Pansy walked over into my line of sight, but I didn't acknowledge her either. "Harry, she can't be here if she's like this. Can you imagine how terrifying it will be for James?!" she hissed, and I couldn't even muster the strength to refute what she said, especially since I agreed with her. I didn't want James to see me like this.

Christmas Eve in France, Valentine's Day in Paris… It was obsession, infatuation, and you encouraged it. Over time, his guilt started to fall away, and he started spending even more of his time with you. Astoria probably noticed, was at home feeling just as abandoned and neglected as you once had, and you let it continue.

Every time you tried to walk away, you caved. You didn't want to hurt him, even if it meant continuing to hurt Astoria and yourself. When he was gone, at home where he should've been all along, you were hurting, but then he'd come back, and you'd be flying high again. The relationship was bipolar — the lowest of lows, the highest of highs — rarely a steady, comfortable thing. You were both so wrapped up in each other, completely co-dependent. It wasn't healthy…

Harry's hand cupped my cheek, and I met his emerald eyes. "I'm sorry," I cried. "I'm sorry. I'll go. I'll take care of myself. Pansy's right. I'm not fit to be around children right now. I don't want to scare James."

"Hermione, I won't let you do this alone. Please, let me help you. You've always been there for me, through everything—"

Losing control of myself, I let out a roar. "You don't owe me anything for that, Harry! And, if you did, it would've been nice if maybe you'd repaid it long before now! Maybe before I got sucked into the twisted relationship with Draco in the first place!"

With a look of despair frozen on his face, Harry stood up and stepped back. "What are you talking about, Hermione?"

"Haven't you ever wondered why this whole thing with Draco started? Do I normally strike you as the type to have an affair with a married man?"

Pansy's hands were on her hips, her eyes narrowed at me. Harry just looked at me, the guilt already consuming him. I knew what these words would do to him, but I couldn't stop them.

"Ron and I broke up, and then you and Ginny, and I know that was partially my fault. I know I wasn't supposed to end up with Ron, but I was still hurting. I was hurting, and I had Ginny, but then she left, too. All I wanted was my best friend and you wouldn't even look at me. What happened that night — we were drunk, Harry! It didn't mean anything," I said, begging him to understand. "And after that, you and I basically only ever spoke at work and Ron still wasn't speaking to me at all."

"Hermione, what you did—" Harry began.

I shook my head and interrupted him. "I know. It was wrong and you were upset with me. But three years later, I would've thought that our friendship would've been repaired! After everything we'd been through together, I mean, I know you were busy falling in love and Ron was, too, but I was alone! That night, at Draco's stag party, I was so drunk and you didn't even realise I was there! You didn't speak to me the whole bloody night!"

At this, he looked ashamed.

"I'm not blaming you, so don't take it that way. I'm trying to explain to you that I was alone and Draco gave me everything he could. He made time for me and opened up to me. I hadn't had that kind of emotional intimacy with anyone in years." I took a deep breath. "You and I grew apart. That was probably good for us in some ways. We became our own people, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt, that I didn't miss you and Ron. We were a trio, or at least a duo, for so long, and then it was gone. I didn't know how to be alone."

"So it's everyone's fault but your own, Granger?" Pansy snapped.

I glared at her. "No, it's most definitely my fault. But I've never told him how his actions affected me and he's trying to fix me when he barely knows me anymore, Pansy!"

"Hermione," Harry began. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If I'd known you were struggling, I would've helped you. Why didn't you tell me?"

"It doesn't matter," I stated. "I'm going to go now. I'll send Kingsley an owl and get checked in again. Please, let's just drop it."

He stared at me and I could see the pain in his eyes. I'd lashed out and caused that.

Misery loves company and Merlin knows you're a miserable fucking shrew these days.

"I shouldn't have come here. I'm making a wreck of everything lately, and I was upset so I lashed out at you," I rambled. "I love you, Harry. I always have and I always will. None of this is your fault. It's mine and no one else's."

"We need to talk about this! We don't just — we shouldn't just let it fester. You know me. You know I'm not going to think of anything else until we talk about it. I just… I can't believe you've never told me any of this." Standing from the couch, I got dizzy and almost fell. Harry caught me and held on tightly. "You're not going anywhere until you've had some water and eaten something. I might not have been there before, Hermione, but I am sure as hell here now. I won't let you suffer on your own. I'll do whatever you need me to."

Pansy was silent, watching us as her husband took me into his arms and hugged me like I was on the verge of vanishing. I knew she was holding back; she wanted to tear me to shreds for upsetting Harry. In my absence, she'd become his fiercest protector.

I felt my tears starting again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

He shushed me. "No, you definitely should've. A long time ago. Avoiding each other outside of work was wrong. You're like my sister. I love you, no matter what. I hate seeing you like this. I hate that I didn't realise what was going on. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

We swayed in place, Harry holding onto me and trying to cheer me up. It reminded me of the Horcrux hunt, of when we were on our own, and he swept me into a dance to try to make me feel better. All those nights spent in the tent, some of which we didn't utter two words during, comfortably sharing the silence. Lashing out at him was wrong on so many levels. Growing apart was a part of growing up, and it was something that needed to happen. He'd found Pansy once I wasn't around and they were so well-suited. She'd given him James and Severus. In a way, she'd given me children, too. I loved my godsons more than anything at this point in time.

Sheepishly, I looked up at her. "I'm sorry, Pansy. I keep disrupting your life, and it's wrong. I'm a grown woman and I made bad choices. I should be able to fix this on my own."

She let out a sigh. "Bloody fucking Gryffindors. Honestly, Granger, you need to stop trying to be so fucking brave. You need to let people help you right now. You're a total fuck up on your own, and you're not going to get any better if you keep pretending you don't need anyone."

Those words were essentially the equivalent of an invitation to stay at Grimmauld Place, Pansy never being one to readily open herself and her home up to others.

"Stay, Hermione," Harry said. "We can arrange something with Penelope where you can go in for appointments or something. Please don't push me away. We need to fix this. Just… stay with us. The boys will make you feel better, too."

I sniffled. "Now that's just manipulative, Harry. You know I can't resist those two little boys."

He pulled back and smiled at me. "I've always known how to get what I want. Especially when it comes to you."

Smacking his chest, I almost smiled. I felt my lips quirking up a bit, but they didn't quite make it all the way. I knew there was so much more I'd have to tell Harry; he wouldn't drop what I'd said to him until he felt sure that things were fine between us.

And, if I was being honest, part of fixing myself was going to require fixing my relationship with Harry. After I'd started sleeping with Draco, I'd pushed my best friend even further away, and that had been wrong. I needed him back in my life. I planned on talking to Penelope about my feelings of abandonment, so maybe she would be able to help me repair things with Harry.

A moment later, Pansy said, "If you two are done hugging it out or whatever the fuck that was, we can go down to the kitchen. I'll make you something to eat, Granger. You look like a walking skeleton in a skin suit." Harry shot her a look and she smiled at him. "Don't start with me, Potter. She's fine with the way I am. She knows what I'm like now. I'm not all warm and fuzzy. I express love through sarcasm."

I watched as Harry bit the inside of his cheek, likely holding back a comment about the other ways his wife expressed love. He turned and slung an arm around my shoulders, guiding me down the stairs in Pansy's wake.

"She's right, you know," I told him. "I do understand her. I really don't get offended by anything she says anymore."

Harry just nodded. "Thank Godric, because I think a fight between the two of you would likely tear this bloody house down."

Author's Note: Just a quick note - my team is incredible. I slashed this chapter to bits on Thursday and rewrote parts of it. They all took the time to look it over again, and I'm incredibly grateful.

Also, while we're on the subject of gratitude... Every Part of Me won the "When Life Gives You Lemons" category for Granger Enchanted 2020! Thank you so much to everyone who voted. It means a lot to me that my first story got that little bit of recognition.

If you're a part of Dramione Fanfiction Forum on Facebook, they're doing a book club for Guarding the Dragon over the next couple of weeks. Pop in if you'd like!