Hermione counted another minute down since Narcissa had bid her good-bye and left the Hospital Wing. She still wasn't sure if it was the fact she had advised her to be careful and that the Ministry was surely watching her every move now, or if her surprise came from the fact that that same motherly and warm smile Narcissa departed with was directed towards her.

Lying back beneath the covers of her bed, Hermione began mulling over and trying to unjumble her own whirring thoughts.

The Death Eater's and Ministry officials in support of Voldemort were now keeping a close watch on her. That seemed like an obvious thing the more she repeated the words in her head. Before now, she, Ron and Harry had been under a close eye anyway. Now, there would be no time to attempt a secret letter exchange or hold any sort of meeting with the rest of the Order.

Every owl that would come through the windows in Grimmauld Place would now be under a heavy surveillance. Every galleon she spent would most likely be recorded or documented somewhere to see what exactly she was planning next. Every newspaper against the Order would spew some sort of new gossip about the Mudblood friend to Harry Potter who had managed to survive the Hunger Games with the help of Draco Malfoy -

Fate was clearly on or against her side today as no more had his name slipped through her thoughts, the blonde in question slipped in through the door and quietly shut it behind him, unaware of the wide brown eyes boring into the back of his head.

Despite looking physically fine, and without a single cut or scratch in sight, Draco rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand, fighting off what looked to be the start of some sort of terrible headache. He made his way over to his bed and sank down onto the covers, flopping back with a heavy sigh.

It took Hermione a second to find her voice again over the rising relief flooding her chest.

"I do suppose that is one way to make an entrance" Hermione chuckled.

Upon hearing the broken silence, Draco swiveled his head towards her. Gone were the deep gashes and multitude of marks he had gotten during the games, seemingly with the help of some sort of glamor charm. It was odd not to see the pink lines of scars running down his face, though now that she saw it again, she was internally debating whether or not they really had made him more handsome.

She refused to acknowledge that thought and scolded herself for such a thing.

The previous look of exhaustion and worry across his features was replaced by a warm relief that she couldn't help but smile at. Adjusting his body so that he was facing her through the ends of the metal frame at the end of his bed, Draco returned her smile with his own grin.

"I've always known how to make an entrance," the blonde replied. "It does help that I've got good looks going with it."

Hermione rolled her eyes as he added a wink in afterwards. "That, along with an ego the size of Hogwarts. I wonder how you managed to fit through the doorways at school."

Draco chuckled as he shook his head. "I do try my best, Granger."

With nothing but silence soon dividing the room with the dimming sun, Draco's expression fell from amused to serious, though that same soft glint behind his eyes remained. She tilted her head as she watched him internally debate with himself over something he wanted to or meant to say. When nothing came from his side of the room, Hermione fidgeted with the corner of her blanket and cleared her throat.

"I trust your wounds have healed alright?" she asked, trying to find some way to break the now tentative silence. Draco absentmindedly ran a hand down his cheek and sighed.

"I suppose there wasn't anything too broken or bruised," he replied. "They charmed a few of the scars and gave me a couple of potions to take to speed up the process, but it's nothing I haven't already done before. What about you? Seems the sleeping beauty finally woke up and the first thing I see is a busted lip…"

Ignoring his comment that he had technically complimented her, Hermione tried to quickly cover the cut with her hand as if to only wipe a crumb off her face. Draco's eyes stayed trained to the spot as his brow furrowed. Pushing himself off the mattress, he stood from his bed and crossed the room in a matter of seconds. Settling himself in the chair Narcissa had occupied only a few minutes before, he eyed the cut with suspicion as Hermione adjusted the covers around her bandages.

"It's nothing a simple charm can't fix," Hermione shrugged. "I had a, erm...small run-in with one of the guards earlier this afternoon. He wasn't in a great mood, I suppose."

Draco said nothing and only nodded, though he averted his gaze as he wrung his hands out in front of him. Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, he sighed and flickered his gaze from her and back to the floor.

"At least you didn't have to deal with Yaxley," he muttered. "If I hadn't thought he wasn't a bit of a nutter before, there's no doubt he is now."

Hermione twisted a lock of her hair around her finger as she stared at the sheets, suddenly in rapture at their simplicity. Draco noted her lack of comment and turned his gaze back up towards her. His easy-self and amusement from just minutes before was gone, replaced by the sudden cold she had seen in Narcissa.

"Unless he said something to you, too," Draco suggested. Hermione carefully darted her eyes to the side to see him studying her face for any sign of the truth. She already knew he had picked up on her easy lie, not that it was a great one to start with.

"I suspect he told you the same thing he told me," Hermione started, her hand falling up towards the ceiling on the blanket. Draco followed the movement with his eyes but said nothing. "The conversation in his office stays there, unless we want consequences. Put on a smile for the public and then get back to the way things were. Nothing more, nothing less."

A delicate shift in the mattress next to her hand startled her away from staring into her lap. Draco's hand rested next to hers, almost asking for permission if their fingers could touch. She refrained from letting the flush crawling into her cheeks show, and when she made no move to remove her hand from his side, Draco carefully intertwined their two fingers together.

Aside from the brief hug they had shared during the finale of the Games, the two hadn't shared much contact between one another. Still, she couldn't deny that seeing his pale fingers wrapped into hers, his mark barely visible beneath his white-buttoned cuff, wasn't something that scared her away, nor did his cool touch even make her flinch. The first few moments were shared in an awkward hold, but as she felt him relax in the chair beside her, she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of her own.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Draco took a moment to respond, his eyes locked on their intertwined hands. "The only thing we can do for the time being is go along with whatever Yaxley needs us to do."

"And then?"

For a moment, Hermione wondered if he knew what she was really asking him. His family hadn't been involved with anything the Order was planning during the time of the Death Eaters uprising, nor had they done anything to partake in their rise to power either. From what she had seen during the past few weeks, and during the Reaping itself, she couldn't help but think back now and wonder if they had thought they were fighting on the wrong side from the start. That, or if they intended to erase the past they had built and start off a-new.

Draco chuckled, his eyes finally daring to move up and meet her gaze, snapping her out of the sudden crash of thoughts in her head. "Aren't you supposed to be the one who has the extraordinary plan to save the day? Or did Potter and Weasley really manage to stay alive all by themselves?"

Hermione couldn't help but both laugh and scoff at him for his comment. On one hand, she knew his comment was supposed to be a hard jab towards her two closest friends. On the other…

She and the blonde soon fell into their normal routine of falling into light conversation, an easy and rather amusing way to distract themselves from the dangers lurking just outside the door; this time, quite literally.

It wasn't twenty minutes later Draco was sitting on the edge of her bed, listening with great intent to her, Harry and Ron's great adventure of their winter in the Forest of Dean. She had just reached the part where Ron had nearly gotten frostbite to refuse the coat she had transfigured for him claiming it was much too "girly" when a jumble of conversation echoed outside the hall.

Both teen's heads swiveled to the door as the distant chatter amongst what sounded to be a group of people continued to approach. Hermione barely had time to register if she looked acceptable in her hospital gown before the large oak doors burst open. The first face she recognized with piercing green eyes and a crooked pair of glasses almost came barreling towards and nearly tripped over his own two feet in the process.

"Hermione!" Harry cried, pulling her into a bone-crushing squeeze the moment he got to her bedside. Still trying to understand it was Harry who had thrown his arms around her, Hermione quickly tightened her hold as a broad grin broke across her face.

She didn't have time to take in the full comfort of his embrace or the scratchy material of his hand-made Weasley sweater before he was pulling back to get a better look at her.

"Oh thank Merlin you're alright!" Harry beamed. She hadn't seen a smile like that from her best friend for many years, and it seemed like an eternity since she had seen the same joy radiating off of the red-head who soon joined him.

"Oh, Hermione! I knew you could do it!" Ginny squealed as Hermione was burrowed in a head of red hair. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as the two girls simply held each other for a few moments, before of course the next line of Weasley's came along. Hermione nearly broke down into hysterical sobs when Mrs. Weasley approached her, delicately holding her face as if she were a china doll.

"Hermione, my dear, I'm so proud of you," she cried, her own thick tears streaming down her cheeks. Arthur quickly joined them as he wrapped his arms around both his wife and the brunette sitting on the bed. The lump in the back of her throat hadn't subsided one bit before George kneeled down to her height and gave her a tight squeeze.

"No limbs lost, I reckon," he exclaimed. "Like Harry over there, packing it all together since day one. Least you've got the looks for it, though."

Hermione burst out into a fit of giggles as George pulled her in for another tight hug even with Harry's muttered defiance to the Weasley twin's claim.

She wasn't sure if she just hadn't noticed everyone who had come in all together, or if the crowd was simply growing by the second. Charlie and Percy were quick but sincere with their reacquaintance, and Bill was joined by Fluer as she gave her a quick peck on the cheek and a warm smile that had never been directed towards her before. Still, Hermione could see the brokenness behind Fluer's eyes, and the two had held each other longer than any other member in the group.

Neville, Luna, the Patil twins, Dean, Seamus, and what seemed to be nearly the rest of her friends she had managed to stay in contact with were there to offer both their congratulations and condolences in regards to the Games. Hermione accepted them gratefully, though she soon found the room to be a bit crowded. Besides, there was still one wizard she hadn't yet gotten the chance to speak to.

Squeezing her way through the groups as chatter broke out amongst her friends, Hermione spotted a head of red hair against the wall nearest to the exit of her wing of the hospital. In his usual attire of a signature Weasley sweater and his hair amuse and rumpled as usual, Ron waited for her arrival with an easy smile and his hands stuffed into his pockets.

Opening her arms as she approached, Hermione wrapped them around his neck and she settled herself into his embrace. Neither said anything as the distant chatter of the crowd seemed to disappear behind them. It was only when Ron finally removed his chin from the top of her head did Hermione look up into his freckled face and find both relief and nerves flooding his features.

Understanding widened her eyes, and in a matter of seconds, Hermione found her own nerves soaring at whatever it was he was going to say; and what exactly she was going to say in return.

"You did it, Mione," he started, removing his arms from around her and shoving them back into his pockets. "You really did it."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Hermione replied with a nervous chuckle. She wasn't sure whether it was her or the conversation growing more tense as the seconds ticked by. Ron seemed to have the same idea, and quickly cleared his throat.

"Well, erm, I think there might be something that I need to talk to you about," Ron started sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Look, Ron I - "

"Hermione, I think - "

Both stopped and simply stared at the other for a moment. She could feel her cheeks growing red with embarrassment, and Ron seemingly didn't think this was the way he envisioned the conversation either as he shifted from one foot to the other.

"You can go first if you'd like," Hermione grinned, though she knew he saw it as strained.

"Alright then," he said, clearing his throat. "Erm, as you might remember, before you left for the Games, I came to visit you in the waiting area, and before you left I told you a few things. About how I felt. And how I wondered if you would be willing to accept those feelings that I have for you."

"Ron, I - "

"When you left, I thought I'd never be able to get the chance to really tell you how I felt. During the last few years of school, and even during our time at Godric's Hollow, I always saw you as more than just my best friend. I thought if I was able to get it off my chest before you went in, there might have been a chance that you could come back from it..."

"I think - "

"I only want what's best for you, and I thought that to have someone to share that love with could potentially be me, and one day we would make it work. But the truth is, the only thing I really want for you, Hermione, is for you to be happy - "

"I know but - "

"And the thing is - "

"Ron, I need to tell you - "

"That's why I know you won't be able to find that happiness with me."

Hermione clamped her mouth shut as she stared up at him, her eyes wide, her mouth nearly falling slack. Feeling as though both a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and someone had dropped an anvil in her stomach, she found herself looking past the fun-loving boy she had grown to love as their years progressed into what she once hoped to be more than friendship. Now, she saw a man with freckles along his nose and fierce red hair who was dunked in nerves with a light sadness strewn across his features, but a distant relief hiding in his eyes.

"As I watched you go through each task of the games, I realized there was a real chance you would come back out of the Games alive. Each day, I thought that there was a possibility that when you would come back, everything would be like some great love story as Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger take on the world together with nothing but each other."

"But, the more I watched each day go by, the more I saw something in you change. I do know there might have been a time when you felt the same way about me, and maybe there was a time where we could have made it work out together in the end. The thing is, though - I just don't think that I'm that guy anymore. The right one for you, I mean; I think you know it, too."

Hermione found her mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish out of water, her brow furrowed as she tried to find words. After all the two had been through, both before and during the war, she had envisioned this moment when Ron would finally tell her they would end up together in some happily ever after. When he had come and said those very words to her during the after-session of the Reaping, she knew there was a chance she wouldn't come back, and she wouldn't let another person he truly loved slip away from him again. Now, finally reunited after nearly a month's time, she found herself slightly confused.

She should have been crushed by his admittance, knowing the boy she had grown to love past friendship now didn't think he harbored the same feelings for her anymore.

But she wasn't.

"I know you did have feelings for me once," Ron started, a sad but easy smile taking over his features again. "And maybe if I hadn't been so dense then we could have tried together. Maybe I wouldn't have ever kissed Lavender or even went out with her in the first place. Maybe I could have summed up the courage to actually ask you to the Yule Ball. There are a lot more "maybe's" I could go through, but I know you've moved on. Whether or not you knew that for yourself is a bit of a different story."

When Hermione still couldn't find her voice to say something in return, Ron leaned down towards her and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"I'll always love you, Hermione. Even if it is just as friends," Ron exclaimed, pulling back up to his full height. "It might take me a little while, but you'll always be like a sister to me, and I hope you know that means I've always got your back, no matter what. As long as you're happy with whoever it is you choose, I can be happy for you as well."

Taking a few seconds to register his words, Hermione slowly nodded her head and dared to meet his eyes. While she could see the last remaining flecks of disappointment behind his gaze, she could see a new feeling of relief welling up inside, almost as if an enormous weight was finally lifted from his chest. Still confused as to why she felt the same way, Hermione finally cleared her throat and tucked her hands behind her back.

"I - well - I think I can agree with you, Ron," she replied. "While there might have been some time you and I could have made it work, I find it's for the best if we just stay friends. Like I told you before, I know you'll find the perfect girl some day and come in as her prince charming with a set of terrible pick-up lines. I'm sorry that that girl won't be me, but I will always love you Ron, and through all of this, I hope we can still stay close friends. You'll always be like my brother, but you'll also always be my best friend."

Ron's smile didn't hint at any signs of disappointment as he pulled her in for another hug. The two stayed wrapped in each other's embrace for what felt like hours. It was cut to an abrupt stop as a bubble of laughter burst forth from the guests standing in the center of the room, all with familiar smiles that seemed near lost until now.

"I suppose you should be getting back to your own reunion party," Ron chuckled, brushing a loose strand of red hair from his forehead. "Wouldn't want the new victor to miss out on all the fun."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione lightly swatted his shoulder as the two turned back towards the large group. Before she could fully turn her back on the two oak doors, she briefly spotted a head of blonde hair slink out the doorway and into the hall. For a moment, she could have sworn it was Luna or Fluer. But when she heard the Beauxbaton's airy chuckle and Luna's rather ill-timed comment on the subject of nargles, Hermione couldn't help but glance back to see if her partner was gone.

When there wasn't any sign of the door re-opening, Hermione was quickly distracted at her momentary disappointment before she was swept away into the crowd and her thoughts were preoccupied with reacquaintance rather than the uneasy and warm feeling growing in her chest.

Hello my lovely fellow readers!

Yes it is Saturday, but seeing as I am confining myself to the couch for the afternoon to write, I have decided to post an extra chapter this week for y'all, and, I hope you guys enjoyed!

I'm excited because next week will be the conclusion of "Harry Potter and the Reaping" with a TBA one-shot sequel about where Hermione and Draco are one year later...yay!

So, with nothing left to say, and as always, I hope you have a wonderful morning, afternoon, evening, or night!

-Summerwinds