A/N: I was listening to the song "Whenever You're Ready" by Ashley Price when I wrote the last bit of this chapter and I strongly recommend doing so while/after you read it. That's all.

oOoOoOo

"I'm going to break an ankle," Hermione whined at Ginny when they flooed through to George and Angelina's flat with Harry in tow, carrying the gifts.

"No, you aren't, I put a stabilizing charm on your boots," the redhead replied with a smug smirk before rushing over to greet Hannah, who was positioned near the food table with Ron. Being pregnant, her appetite actually gave him a run for his money these days.

"And if you do, I'll cause a distraction so no one notices," Harry whispered to her from behind, giving her a playful nudge with his shoulder before going to set their exchange gifts under the tree. She shot him a grateful smile.

"I'm so glad you came," Angelina gushed, spotting Hermione across the room and hurrying over. "You look fantastic!"

The witch was wearing a red jumper with opposing white reindeer and text in the middle right over her bump that said, 'I was naughty this year.'

"So do you," Hermione laughed, reaching around to give her a hug. "Should you be on your feet?"

"Oh hush, I'm fine; George overreacted. I tried to tell him, every witch I've ever spoken to has described the pains of childbirth in vivid detail to me at this point. I don't expect I'll miss it when it happens."

Hermione took a cursory glance around the room and noted that, in addition to many people she didn't recognize, pretty much everyone she knew in 'their generation' was there. Draco and Luna were chatting with Neville and Theo by the punch bowl; Bill and Fleur were cuddled up on the sofa together talking to Charlie; even Percy had showed, his arm looped through that of Blaise Zabini, who looked mildly uncomfortable but was clearly making an effort. No sign of Fred or Verity though.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to go talk to Draco," Hermione said, giving Angie's arm a squeeze and threading her way through the crowd. She wanted to get this taken care of before the eggnog and punch really started flowing.

"Hello Hermione," Luna said, the first of their group to spot her. She bounded over and gave Hermione a warm hug, barely allowing her time to register that Luna was wearing what appeared to be footie pajamas with a reindeer hood, complete with antlers. "Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas Luna," Hermione responded with a smile. She greeted Neville and Theo in kind before turning back to the blonde. "Would you mind if I borrow your boyfriend for a moment?"

"Not at all," Luna replied, drifting away to get another drink.

"Happy Christmas Hermione," Draco greeted formally, awkwardly extending his hand. He hadn't adhered to the dress code either, clad in a perfectly tailored emerald suit. His tie had dancing snowflakes on it though, which Hermione suspected was Luna's handiwork.

"Oh, don't be a tosser," Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes before pulling him into a hug, which he returned after a second of stiff uncertainty. "Step on the balcony for a moment?"

"Of course," he said, looking curiously at her as he pulled back. They ducked through the glass doors and onto the magically warmed terrace, the sounds within the flat muffling as they swung shut behind them. "What can I do for you?"

"I want to adopt Charlotte," Hermione said quickly, the words leaving her mouth in a huff. A feeling of rightness settled over her as she sucked in a breath and plowed onward. "I know that I'm single and I work a lot and I don't have any experience being a mum, but I love that little girl and I really think that I-"

"Granger, breathe," Draco commanded, cutting her off. She was relieved to see his lips were twisting into a smirk. "You don't have anything to prove to me; she's going to be ecstatic."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely. When she's not reading, all she does is babble about you and your class. I can start the paperwork on Monday, and you'll be able to take her home before the new year."

"Thank you, Draco," Hermione said sincerely, pulling him in for another hug, one that he was prepared for this time and properly returned. She spoke into this shoulder, the smell of his cologne and peppermint clinging to his jacket, "You really aren't such a terrible git anymore, you know that?"

"Want me to insult your hair?"

"Just try it; my right hook has only improved with age."

She released him, brushing an errant tear from her cheek; after going over a few more details pertaining to the paperwork, he opened the door and the pair ducked back into the teeming room.

"Hey 'Mione," Ron said, appearing at her side with a plate full of food. Draco, tolerant as he had become in many ways, still had little patience for Ronald and peeled off back toward Luna as quickly as possible.

"Hi Ron," Hermione said, giving him a half-hug. His waistband had grown a bit since their schooldays, but he was still as warm and welcoming as ever. "I caught up with Hannah the other day when she picked up Rose. How've you been?"

"Tired," he said, a slightly vacant look crossing his face for a moment. "Two kids. Two kids are a lot. And now a third on the way… I don't know how my mum did it."

"I suspect there was more firewhiskey involved than you were probably aware of," Hermione joked.

"There had to have been – I've nearly gone 'round the twist as it is."

Just then, though the party was riddled with them, Hermione spotted an unmistakable ginger head to her left and, much to her dismay, a familiar blonde head next to it. Ginny had been right, of course. She'd always been better at predicting the motives and actions of other women.

Verity was clad in a skin-tight green sweaterdress that cut off mid-thigh and a pair of black stiletto boots that came up above the knee. Her hair fell in golden ringlets down her back and there was a Santa hat cocked sideways on top of her head. She looked like a fucking advert and Hermione wanted to wring her neck.

"Excuse me Ron, I need to grab a drink," Hermione said, inadvertently cutting off his rant about Hugo's refusal to eat anything green. "And just charm the broccoli a different color, you're a wizard for Merlin's sake."

His jaw dropped in awe as she quickly made her way to the drink table. She grabbed a glass and filled it generously with punch, sucking that down hastily and topping it off again.

Hermione really thought she would be fine after Ginny's pep talk, but seeing Fred here with Verity after last night stung in a way that honestly couldn't be accounted for. It had to have been a fluke; they worked together all week and he thought he wanted something he didn't. He was probably grateful the Patronus had interrupted after finding out Angelina was okay.

She looked around the room and noted that she wasn't the only one having a rough night. Though most of the party was cheerfully chatting and drinking, Neville and Theo were off to the side in the midst of what appeared to be a relatively heated argument. Hermione was just contemplating making sure that everything was alright when she heard a bubbly laugh and looked back at Fred and Verity.

They were talking to a woman she didn't recognize, and Fred's arms were around Verity's waist; he was smiling and she was giggling and they looked perfect together and something in Hermione's chest splintered. She felt tears start to sting her eyes and her breath came in shallow gasps. It was all simply too much; the room was too warm, the lights too bright, the people too loud. Even the fabric of her silky blouse suddenly felt abrasive against her skin.

She set her empty glass of punch on the edge of the table and made a break for the balcony again, distantly hearing George announce that they would be starting the gift exchange in ten minutes. Luna looked at her from across the room with a concerned expression, but Hermione just shook her head before opening the doors and stepping into the fresh air, noting distantly that it had started to snow.

She debated apparating but her vision was blurry and the punch had gone to her head, so instead she walked to the edge of the terrace and began to carefully climb the wrought-iron spiral staircase that started near the back corner of the building and led up and onto the roof.

Though the balcony was charmed to stay warm, the roof was not, and the frigid December air made the streaks of tears on her face sting as she finished her ascent. She spotted an overturned wooden crate near the edge of the rooftop and sank onto it, putting her head in her hands and finally letting herself break.

It was stupid. It was juvenile and stupid, and she was about to be a mother, and Fred was still her friend, and none of that made the chasm in her chest hurt any less. She cast a warming charm on her immediate vicinity, dulling the cold, and moved her hands from her face up to her head, fingers raking through her curls to brutally rip out the pins Ginny had so skillfully placed several hours earlier. They made little pinging sounds as they hit the stone beneath her feet.

She was just about to conjure a glass and fill it with water in an attempt to sober up before heading home when there was a metallic creak behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fred's head appear over the top of the roof and quickly turned away, wiping at the tears on her face with the sleeve of her blouse, thankful that she has used waterproof mascara.

"Hermione?"

"Go away Fred," she said, voice thick. "Go back to the party."

"What's wrong?" he asked, sounding immediately alarmed and concerned. She had never spoken to him like that before. Ron, yes, Harry, on occasion, but not Fred. Never Fred.

"It's nothing. I just don't feel much in the mood to celebrate tonight."

Which was so fucking stupid because not an hour earlier she had been crying tears of joy at the prospect of bringing her daughter home. She just shook her head.

"I saw you leave and I… it's not Charlotte, is it? You were talking to Malfoy and then you ran off and I thought maybe…"

"No, everything is fine with Charlotte."

Merlin damn him for still being so unwaveringly fucking sweet in a moment where she wanted nothing more than to put a continent between them.

"Please just talk to me."

He stopped behind her and placed a hand gently on her shoulder; she squeezed her eyes shut and wondered briefly if it was possible to apparate by sheer force of will.

"I can't talk to you Fred," she finally snapped as she got up and spun to face him. "I can't talk to you because there's nothing that I can say that changes anything! Because I feel like I am fucking dying watching you here with her after… when I… and I don't know how to cope with that!"

She shouted the last through tears and he swayed backward, shocked by the venom in her tone, watching as her hair swirled wildly around her face in the wind. She looked like some fort of ethereal being; a goddess of anger and heartache. And in three strides he closed the gap between them.

Hermione sucked in a startled breath, nearly stumbling backward in surprise when he reached out a hand and caught her around the waist, pulling her tight against his warm, firm chest. The wind kicked up again, a flurry of snow drifting around them in a cyclone, and there was a pause. A single second in which everything stopped. Warm, brown eyes met deep blue and their chests rose and fell in unison.

And then, all at once, his lips crashed into hers.

And he was kissing her.

And it was everything.