Good evening! And I say that with a big smile because this is a long chapter I've been waiting to share for a while. Also because your reviews for the last chapter were amazing. Really, I thank you guys so much for the time you put into reviewing and the fact that your reviews were so positive (I would've taken critiques, too, but let's be real: nice reviews make writers smile!).

I HAVE to give a shoutout to two reviewers: buddybuddy96, who wrote this chapter better than I ever could have ;), and to Lindsay, who said this is their favorite fic of all time. I don't know if I deserve that praise because there are some seriously good Dramiones out there, but thank you! That means a lot :')

Love,

Cherry

P.S. I describe Hermione's robes for the gala in this chapter, and I know it would've been impossible for me to describe the jumpsuit it was based on and do it justice, SO if you want a better picture of what Hermione wore, Google "Elie Saab red jumpsuit" and it's the runway pic of the girl with the giant red glasses (which Hermione didn't wear because "fashion is impractical" (aka why would she wear giant sunglasses to a nighttime event?)). I want to own this jumpsuit, but I'm short and have no galas to go to. Disappointing.


With Ginny's approval, Hermione left the classroom and took her time to cross the grounds, enjoying the youthful nature that filled the buildings. The students Hermione passed were so wrapped up in their conversations and friends that they hardly noticed the adult wearing jeans as she passed them, and when Hermione made it outside, she made a detour and crossed the pathways toward the Herbology classrooms, popping her head in and out of the greenhouses, finally finding the person she was looking for in greenhouse number four.

Neville Longbottom had aged well, though he was slightly thinner than he'd been during school, and his love for Herbology had clearly eased the nervousness he'd exhibited during his time at Hogwarts. Now, working with several students to carefully pick Sopophorous beans, Neville looked right at home explaining the intricacies of the plant, his students listening with great interest as he detailed the cautions one must take when handling such a powerful potion ingredient.

Hermione leaned against the door frame and watched the interaction, a warm feeling of familiarity rooting itself in her chest. Neville represented all that was good with magic; his selflessness, his passion for spreading knowledge, his caring nature despite times when the world hadn't been so caring toward him. Hermione was proud to call him a friend.

As Neville finished his lesson, he glanced up and saw Hermione, a smile spreading across his face and he waved at her enthusiastically. Hermione reciprocated, albeit with less ardor. Neville explained to his students that they should continue working without him, and he approached Hermione, swallowing her in a hug.

"You know, I knew you were coming today but it's a happy surprise nonetheless." He gushed, retracting his gangly form.

"It's lovely to see you too, Neville. How's Hannah?"

"She's well, thanks." Neville bobbed his head. "She planned to come tonight, but a party of Romanian gypsies Flooed in this morning. She's trying to solve the rooming issue but her Extension Charm keeps retracting on her." Hannah was the landlady for the Leaky Cauldron, and while Hermione had been pleased at the thought of seeing Hannah, she understood that work came first, especially when it came to running an entire inn by oneself.

"Ah." Hermione responded, knowing the charm nearly inside and out. "You might suggest that she flick her wand instead of slowly curve it. I've always found the snap of the wrist seems to produce stable walls, while the curve caused a slight wobbliness and fragility to the structure."

"Brilliant." Neville grinned. "Thanks for the tip. We spoke over the Floo and she seemed ready to pull her hair out over the situation."

"Happy to oblige." Hermione mirrored Neville's expression, glancing over his shoulder at the students who seemed torn between picking beans and watching their professor and his new friend. "Are those our new Herbologists in training?" Hermione asked, nodding her head at the students. Neville glanced over his shoulder, causing the students' eyes to fly back to the plants in front of them.

"They are." He proudly stated, puffing his chest up a little bit. Neville was impressed by his students' eagerness to learn, and the idea that he had passed something along to a future generation was something he was quite proud of. While many had attempted to convince him that he had already passed something along with his display of strength and courage during his seventh year, Neville disagreed; he did what was necessary given the circumstances, not in an attempt to educate the younger students about how to deal with bullies and corrupt circumstances.

"Well they couldn't have a more passionate teacher, eh? I don't remember Professor Sprout ever spending her free time teaching us anything of use." Hermione nudged Neville's arm and he blushed, though Hermione followed suit rather quickly when she heard a disgruntled sigh from behind her, Professor Sprout walking by with a student in tow. Both former students were silent until Professor Sprout had disappeared before bursting into a fit of giggles. Neville's students watched curiously as their Professor acted much like they did when they were caught doing something naughty.

"If your one day visit ruins my relationship with a fellow professor, Hermione," Neville warned and Hermione held her hands up.

"I will accept all responsibility and find a way to employ you." Hermione agreed, but Neville shook his head.

"No, you'll have to find a way to employ Hannah."

"Ah, yes, that's right. She does wish to be a Healer, doesn't she?" Hermione questioned, vaguely aware of her friend's wife's aspirations. "All right, well, admittedly, I'm not here solely to say hello, so perhaps we can strike up a deal."

Neville raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, though the groan he produced was clear he was less than thrilled at her statement. "I'm going to get roped into another Golden Trio project, aren't I?"

"No, no you will not, I promise." Hermione rejected his worry. "It's a pet project of mine. Harry and Ron don't even know about it. Do you have an office, or somewhere more private?" She asked and Neville bobbed his head, gesturing to a door at the back of the room.

"It's a storage room, but my office is in the castle, so it'll do?" He asked and Hermione agreed, taking the lead.

"Absolutely, I hope not to take up too much of your time. Ginny has a comb with my name on it, so I don't suppose I can go missing for too long anyway."

Neville snickered at the thought. "Has she enchanted it to come chase you down if you take too long?"

"It's possible, this is Ginny we're talking about." Hermione jested and Neville acknowledged how very right she was. Ginny could be one of the kindest people Hermione knew, but she was also one of the most controlling should she be given any power. Letting Ginny do Hermione's hair and makeup meant Hermione no longer had a say when or how it was all done; Ginny made the decisions for her.

"Then I hope for your sake, you'll be quick." Neville gestured to an overstuffed armchair, taking a wooden one for himself. "Now what are you up to that requires my help?"

"Well, as you know, I've been searching for years for a cure to cursed blade wounds."

"Have you found a cure?" Neville blinked, his eyes wide. "What is it comprised of?"

"Not a cure, unfortunately." Hermione shrugged. "That still seems to evade me, but I'm working on a product that will temporarily vanish the wound. Enough so that it might go undetected for however long I can make it last." She watched as Neville processed what she was saying, clearly trying to determine where he fell in all of this.

"And you'd like to know if I have any...Witch's Ganglion?" He guessed correctly, though he sounded awfully uncertain.

"I knew you would be the one to ask." Hermione grinned, always impressed with Neville's knowledge of plants, especially the rare ones.

"The one to ask only if you wish to confirm I know it exists." Neville argued, aware he couldn't satisfy his friend's request. "I've never even seen Witch's Ganglion before, just read of it."

"But you know of it." Hermione retorted, knowing that while it would've been nice if Neville grew it in his garden, her request wouldn't likely be so simple. No, this situation required more. "And you know where it grows. I sent a letter to Mahoutokoro and it was rejected because they believe I'm pursuing this as a medicine due to my position as a Healer. They've told me their work solely academic and they would like to keep it as such, and that unless I become a professor here, they won't share their knowledge with me."

"So let me understand what it is you'd like from me." Neville clasped his hands together and lifted them to his chin. "You would like me to get in contact with other academics and make a request of them, knowing fully well they've denied the request before due to who was requesting it, therefore breaching their trust and the code we follow as educators."

"Yes."

"No."

"Why not?" Hermione whinged. "It's for a legitimate purpose, Neville! Something I could create to benefit more than just me."

"And if you try it and fail, and anyone finds out, they'll know who you got it from and my position as a professor could be compromised. I'd become a traitor and a joke in my field. No one would want to work with me ever again."

"You know, there was a time where you were willing to stand up for anything you believed in, even if it meant going against your friends. You were creative, and resourceful, and wanted nothing more than to make things right and fair just because you knew that there were things more important than what existed within your scope of the world. This is one of those moments, Neville. To participate in something greater than yourself to benefit the whole."

"Covering up a little scar isn't something that will benefit the whole, Hermione." Neville hated to say it. He'd never known Hermione to be vain, and to witness it now - her desire to cover up a small line on her throat that no one ever noticed but her - he didn't like it. And he didn't like that she was asking him to risk his career for it.

Hermione knew that Neville didn't know of the driving force behind her research. She knew that he didn't know about the slur carved into her arm as the only people that had seen it were those who were at Malfoy manor that day and Ginny, who had stumbled upon it one morning after she'd spent the night at Hermione's, and Hermione intended to keep that circle very small; which is why she knew that Neville thought her conceited, wishing to cover up a small scar on her neck from when Bellatrix had threatened to slit her throat when Harry and Ron got free. But despite knowing Neville's comments weren't coming from a place of ill will, she felt hurt and judged as less than worthy of his support.

"It's not only me that would benefit should I be successful." Hermione stated in a low voice, willing herself not to get angry. "This war has left many of us broken and wanting, and others have wounds and afflictions that cause them strife too. Things that can't be covered up with magic. I'd like to help them, too."

Neville hesitated. He wanted to help his friend, he really did, but to risk his livelihood for what he felt was simply a narcissism fueled goal? He wasn't so certain. "I'll think about it." He offered, willing to sleep on the idea. He knew she was right, that there were other people left with scars magic wouldn't heal, but he wasn't so certain where he fell in all of it. Not now that he had a wife to consider, too. He couldn't make brash decisions without her input.

"All right." Hermione conceded, figuring it was better than him flat out denying her. "That's fair. I've had several months to consider this, I should afford you the same luxury." She smiled at Neville to reassure him that she was okay with how their meeting went, and stood up, hugging him once more. "I'll see you tonight?"

"You will." Neville nodded, offering Hermione a smile in reciprocation. "I'll be the one in the Bouncing Bulb boutonniere."

"Is that safe?" Hermione knew Bouncing Bulbs to be very...well, bouncy, so it hardly seemed like a smart choice to wear one at all, let alone in a crowded room.

"It can be." Neville explained. "So long as you know where to tickle them." He winked and Hermione was both amused and a little worried Neville was just a few ideas away from becoming the plant version of Hagrid.

"Then I'm sure I'll see you. Whether it'll be because you're the life of the party or because everyone's avoiding you, time will tell." Hermione walked herself out of the greenhouse and down to Hagrid's hut, promising herself it would only be a short visit.

It wasn't, as one would expect of any interaction with Hagrid, but Hermione enjoyed it nonetheless. She'd never had the attachment to the groundskeeper Harry had, but Hagrid was a kind-hearted friend who would protect those he cared about even if it killed him. It was a beautiful thing to witness and an even better thing to be on the receiving end of.

Hagrid showered Hermione with rock cakes and tea, and told her stories of his latest students now that he'd been reinstated as a professor of Care of Magical Creatures. McGonagall ensured that he only taught classes for sixth and seventh year students (as a means of protecting the youngest from his well meaning but poorly thought out decisions), but Hagrid preferred it this way, knowing his students were interested in learning and respected the animals they came in contact with. Hagrid was especially keen to tell the story of a protege of his; a Ravenclaw boy named Pewter, who had caught a flight of Nazzle Mumphs without the use of magic, a feat Hagrid had never before witnessed.

When there was a knock on the door, Hagrid paused his speech about the importance of providing your Flitterby's with a warm home, going to see who was interrupting his quality time with Hermione. He was more than thrilled to see it was Harry, who very quickly pulled Hermione aside while Hagrid prepared some treacle toffee and tea for his new guest.

"Ginny told me to come looking for you." Harry explained. "Said you'd need time to get ready and that Hagrid could wait."

"Lovely." Hermione sighed, knowing that part of her was thrilled for the relief, but the other part was aware that meant she was about to be subjected to something akin to torture. "Okay, well thanks." She turned her attention to Hagrid, who was turning to hand Harry is plate and cup. "Bye Hagrid. I'll see you at the party."

"Leavin' so soon, Hermione?" He asked in that gruff voice, a little disappointed he'd be losing an audience member. "I'll see you tonight, then."

"Count on it." Hermione smiled politely at the half-giant before giving a thankful look at Harry, who had already begun devouring the treacle toffee like it was a bar of chocolate. He waved with sticky hands and immediately began asking Hagrid about Buckbeak, who had gone to live with his original owner when Ginny demanded Harry find a suitable home for the large creature.

Hermione walked back up to the castle and through the corridors, which were now practically devoid of students as the chill of the early evening crept in. When she entered the room prepared for guests of the gala, Hermione was greeted by not only Ginny, but Luna, Pavarti, Padma, and Cho, though only Ginny was close enough to being ready that she acknowledged Hermione's arrival.

"There you are!" Ginny stood from the vanity and slapped away the fluffy brush that followed her in an attempt to finish applying her blush. "Come sit down, we need to get started on your hair." She led Hermione by the shoulders to the vanity she'd been sitting at and picked up her wand, redirecting the brushes and makeup from her own face to Hermione's. She picked up a wide tooth comb and spray bottle, wetting the majority of Hermione's unruly hair. "You know, when I wished for a sister so we could do each other's hair, I always imagined it would be done using magic." Ginny noted as she carefully applied Sleekeazy's Hair potion to Hermione's locks to smooth them out.

"Sorry." Hermione apologised, knowing her hair required careful attention and magic only mussed it all up like it had been when she was a child. "It's not like I'd be the fun sister anyway. You like your hair a very certain way." Hermione watched Ginny work in the mirror, noting that Ginny's hair was smooth, shiny, and straight as a board, just like it had been for as long as Hermione had known her. It had been long and it had been short, but it had always been straight, and only when she was playing Quidditch did she put it up.

"True." Ginny commented, barely paying attention to the conversation as she wrapped a lock of hair around a fancy muggle device she'd found called...hair wheels? Rolls? Well, she wasn't certain, but after experimenting with magic years ago, Hermione had suggested she try something muggle, and they'd found these lovely little cylinders that curled hair when exposed to heat.

Hermione could tell her friend was getting into the zone, so she called for a book from her bag by the window and picked up where she'd left off reading about the healing properties of Moondew, moving her book every so often when a brush needed to reach her eyes. Within a half hour or so, Ginny had finished putting the rollers into Hermione's hair and cast a heating charm over them, allowing the curls to form while she went and got herself dressed in the navy blue robes she'd purchased several months prior. She'd bought them a little small as encouragement to shed the baby weight she still bore from Albus, and it was with a sigh of relief that they fit when she pulled them on. She glanced over her appearance in the mirror, pleased with the smoky eyes to mirror the darkness of the dress. She felt beautiful, which was a nice change of pace when she compared it to her normal look, which was primarily comprised of jumpers, jeans, and baby spittle.

When Ginny returned to Hermione, she removed the rollers and coaxed the strands into a shiny wave of curls, tucking the fronts behind Hermione's ears so it all fell down her back. The makeup Ginny had set the brushes to do was less intense than her's, Hermione sporting brown eye shadow with gold sparkle in it, and - much to Ginny's chagrin - no lipstick because Hermione hated how it tasted. It didn't matter how many times Ginny told her not to eat the lipstick, Hermione still complained, so instead, she wore a thin layer of balm and with Ginny's approval, Herimone stood, receiving the garment bag from Ginny. With a bit of nervousness, Hermione retreated behind a room divider and opened the bag to reveal a set of deep red robes, but unlike Ginny's dress, which were sleeveless with a cape, these robes were a one-shoulder jumpsuit, the long sleeve designed to cover Hermione's left arm as she'd requested of Ginny. She pulled on the outfit, zipping herself all the way up, which was relatively easy as it zipped on the side with no sleeve, and deeper within the garment bag was a skirt to go over the trousers, cinched around the waist with a belt. Hermione fussed with this piece of the robe, uncertain as to how it would go on, when Ginny spoke up from the other side of the screen.

"How do they look?" She asked, waiting for a response.

"Good, I think?" Hermione answered. "I don't understand the skirt. What's the point of trousers if you wear a skirt over them?"

"Blimey, Hermione, is it that complicated?" Ginny asked, rounding the room divider. "Look, you just wrap it around from behind and buckle it in front. The skirt only comes around to your hips, so you look like you're wearing a dress from behind, trousers from the front. How did you manage to purchase such beautiful robes for the Yule Ball when you're so hopeless now?"

"My mum helped me." Hermione remembered fondly, Ginny's eyes flicking up from the belt to Hermione's face to make certain she hadn't offended her friend. Hermione never really spoke of her family; Ginny imagined it was still a sore subject, so she didn't want to force it.

"She loved clothing." Hermione smiled, fiddling with the shoulder of the robes. "Every Christmas, she would purchase me a dress for their company party, and as I grew older and developed an affinity for trousers, she began finding ways to incorporate the more masculine garment into feminine looks. Much like what you've done here." Hermione glanced down at the robes, knowing that they would be beautiful. Ginny smirked at the compliment and swatted Hermione's hand away from the sleeve, offering her a pair of matching red pumps from the bottom of the garment bag.

"You think they look good now, wait until you look in a mirror." Ginny spoke, guiding Hermione out to the large mirror leaning against the wall opposite the door. The two stood together, both staring at Hermione's robes, which radiated power and strength worthy only of someone who could stand and face a room filled with adversity, yet come out of all of it with knowledge and pride, having earned the respect of those who doubted her, and having defeated those who opposed her. She was the embodiment Gryffindor in this robe: courageous and determined, and no one could extinguish her.

"I'm starting to doubt myself." Ginny spoke first, looking between Hermione's dress and her own. "Why did I give you the cool robes when I have to stand next to you in all the photos?"

"Hello all! So lovely to see every-Hermione? Oh Hermione, how beautiful you look!"

Hermione and Ginny turned to see who had entered the room, though the giggly voice should have made it clear. Lavender had arrived.


"No one who looks so beautiful should look so miserable, Hermione Granger." He broke the silence, his soft words filling the space between them. "He's more of a fool than ever."