Author's Note: Surprise! Since I'm so incredibly ~thankful~ for all of you lovely readers, I've decided to surprise you all with an extra chapter of this story today :) Yes, that means this story will now have six chapters in total (What can I say? Y'all make me want to keep writing more!), but it ALSO means that you'll still be getting the *actual* final chapter tomorrow at 8:30 pm Eastern.

Love as always to mcal for her support and additional thanks to mightbewriting for enabling this decision and giving the 1 am go-ahead.

The above-head chime tinkled, and Draco immediately second-guessed his decision.

Once should have been enough. He didn't need to submit to Scorpius' pleading two Saturdays in a row. Yet here he was again, stepping into her bookstore. And there she was, unpacking books from a new shipment and doing absolutely nothing special while somehow managing to make Draco's entire world narrow to just her.

Scorpius didn't wait for permission before scampering off to greet Granger, just as he hadn't last week. It was times like these that Draco saw glimpses of Astoria in him, kind and welcoming in a way his father wasn't. Draco didn't even know what to say to the witch who had been on his mind every second of every hour of every day since he'd last left this very same place. While the words continued to flow out of the tip of his quill, his tongue remained knotted.

The space between them felt like a canyon as Draco watched her interact with Scorpius. She had never treated Scorpius with anything short of adoration, like Draco imagined Astoria would have if the universe had given her the chance. He just hoped Scorpius wasn't getting any ideas. It had been complicated enough when Draco had considered the potential of one day introducing his pen pal to his son; it was another thing entirely when Scorpius had already grown fond of Granger, while Draco himself still didn't know how to proceed.

Scorpius was babbling about something — most likely naming all the planets, as was his new favourite thing to do — when Granger's gaze fell off him and landed on Draco. He counted two skips of his heartbeat as she blinked at him before the barest trace of a smile appeared on the right corner of her lips. An instinctive tug pulled Draco's lips into a similar countenance. It didn't hurt to be polite.

She returned her attention to Scorpius, then pointed to the front corner of the store where a crowd of children had gathered cross-legged on the floor in front of a witch wearing a pointed gold hat with stars, a crescent moon, and pale pink fabric flowing from its tip. In her hands was a book, face forward for the children to see before she began reading it. Scorpius bounced on his toes then scurried to join the other children and listen to the story, once again running off without asking Draco first.

A small, involuntary chuckle escaped Draco while he gently shook his head. One day, that boy was going to cause him endless headaches.

With Scorpius occupied by the read aloud, Draco let his vision fall back to Granger. She had already moved the box of books and was reorganising a display to make room for the new additions. Draco stepped back and pretended to skim the titles of the books in whatever section he was in. Nerves jumped inside his veins, and Draco cursed himself for it. It was bloody ridiculous that he was hiding behind a bookshelf and stealing glances at a witch he had known for over half his life. But he also recognised how precarious their situation was. He had somehow managed to keep her as a pen pal as he bought himself time to figure out what to do next. Lingering tension seemed to lace together her written words, but at least it meant they still had a chance.

Something was better than nothing. That was what he had come to accept during the darkening hours in the aftermath of last week's revelation. Yet his heart yearned for more. His feelings had been impossible to squash, especially after she had reignited his hope that Hermione Granger could see beyond their past and believe him to be the man he had become.

But Draco couldn't rush it. If he fed the fire too quickly, it could burn bright and die fast, leaving them with nothing except the charred ashes of what could have been. He had waited six long years for this. A few more weeks wouldn't kill him, right?

The ardent pounding in his chest didn't seem to agree. Nor did the movement of his feet. Before Draco's logic caught up, his legs had already led him next to her. His lips and tongue moved by their own accord as well.

"I have a problem."

An infinitesimal jolt seemed to ripple through Granger. The brown of her irises slimmed as she turned to meet his gaze.

"Can I help you with something?"

No malice. Just a question. Almost as if he was any other customer. Almost. Except, there was a glimmer of something he couldn't name hidden behind her stare that kept his feet rooted and his heart buzzing.

"Actually, you can," Draco answered. "My son. He won't stop talking about space." He used every ounce of mental strength to keep his tone even, yet that still wasn't enough to let one taunting remark break loose. "And it's entirely your fault."

She set aside the book in her hand as a hesitant smile appeared across her lips. "Seems like you're partially responsible, too. I wasn't the one who introduced him to constellations."

Technically, that was Grandma Malfoy's doing. But he wouldn't correct her now. They were talking, and by Merlin, he wasn't going to squander the moment.

"Details," he dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Regardless, my problem remains. I require more books on the topic, for as precocious as my son is, I'm afraid he isn't quite ready for my personal collection of astronomy volumes."

A small laugh left her body, and that flicker of hope refuelled inside his chest. Surely this wasn't the first time he had made her laugh, but it was the first time he had gotten to witness it. The sound was delicate, no more than a few puffs of amused air, yet it stirred a sensation inside Draco he had to battle from becoming visible.

Not now. Not yet.

He followed Granger to a different section of the store where she began introducing him to a variety of books, presumably about space. His mind was in such a cloud, she could have selected books about hippogriffs and Draco still would have bought them. Slowly, the layers of animosity were beginning to peel. The optimism Draco had never believed in as a child still felt foreign, but he latched onto that feeling.

When the story ended, Scorpius came barrelling over, eager to see what books Draco had hidden in the bag.

"They're a surprise," Draco said, trying not to pay too much mind to the fact that Granger was next to him, listening to every word. He scooped Scorpius into his arms. "Storytime tonight?"

"Yes, please."

Draco planted a kiss against his sandy blond hair. "Tonight it is. Now say thank you to Miss Granger for the books. She picked them out."

"Thank you," Scorpius beamed at Granger. His eyes were still sparkling when he turned back to Draco expectantly. "We get ice cream now?"

Draco gave Scorpius a gentle bounce. "Don't we always?"

"With Book Lady?"

The bouncing stopped.

"Miss Granger has to stay here," Draco stated. He had to try even harder now not to glance over to see her reaction. "She's working."

Scorpius scrunched his little forehead. "But ice cream. Thank you?"

"Saying thank you was enough," Draco said after sucking in a breath. "We needn't invite her to ice cream too."

Scorpius' disappointment was immediate, and it gripped Draco's heart. All he ever wanted was to make his son happy. Over everything else in the world. But he couldn't do this. A half-hour in her bookstore was testing enough.

"Actually, my lunch break is just about to begin."

All other thoughts tumbled out of Draco's brain as he shifted to face Granger.

"You needn't feel obligated," Draco said, heart frozen behind his ribcage.

Granger blinked. "No, I—" She paused for several agonising moments until a faint smile curled the edges of her mouth. "Just let me grab my cloak."

...

"Three… two… one… Blast off!"

Squeals poured out of Scorpius as Draco lifted him off the ground and raised him above his shoulders. He then tossed Scorpius a few inches higher and used his wand to keep him suspended mid-air before bringing him back to Earth.

"Again, again, again!" Scorpius said the moment his feet safely landed.

He stretched out his arms for Draco to take hold, but Draco only laughed. "Five times is plenty."

"Please?"

"Later," Draco promised. "Time to go play."

Scorpius ran to the playground, once again leaving Draco alone with Granger.

"Blast off?" she asked as she handed him back his cup of ice cream.

Draco huffed, though it came out more amused than cynical. "I repeat, this is your fault."

"I'll happily accept responsibility for that," she said. "It's cute." He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes and caught a hint of red adorning her cheeks. "You're a good father."

They settled on the bench, leaving considerable space between themselves, and Draco released a sigh.

"It hasn't been easy," he confessed, staring out to watch Scorpius run around the play equipment. "Particularly when I didn't have the best example."

A nervous flicker of his gaze flashed her way when silence descended between them. Draco swallowed. Even alluding to his father was risky. He recognised that. Their history was plenty complicated without inserting his parents into the conversation.

She poked her spoon into the scoop of ice cream. "Being a single parent is already hard enough," she said just above a whisper. The spoon stuck sideways as Granger tilted her head in his direction. "Are they also back in England?"

"Still in France," Draco answered. "They'll visit every now and again, holidays and birthdays and such, but for the most part, it's just me and Scorpius."

"Then why'd you return?"

Draco stared straight into her eyes, but that didn't stop the memories from obstructing his vision. It had been a year and a half ago, just after the fifth anniversary of the final battle and the Malfoy family's decision to near-immediately leave for France. That was never a good time of year for Draco. Regret was a terrible emotion that didn't seem to wane with time — especially when it felt like he was still hiding from confronting any of that part of his past.

France had never felt like home. It was the Malfoys' refuge when they had been the ones inciting danger to others. That thought had never sat well with Draco. And now, that home was laden with memories of a wife he lost too young, too soon.

He needed a new beginning.

The Malfoy Corporation was still operating in Britain, so Draco made the decision to return. It wasn't what he had expected to do with his life. Potions had always been more his passion. But a tainted past had closed the doors to any respectable apprenticeship that even money couldn't re-open.

Yet it was a different night that pushed its way to Draco's forefront. Less than a month later, the first week of June. His twenty-third birthday.

He had drunk himself into a near stupor that night. It had always been incredibly lonely being Draco Malfoy, but it felt worse that year. Everyone had made sure to be there for his first birthday without Astoria, but not as much the second. Boxes lined his office as Draco drank another glass of whisky from the half-empty bottle, but only one box mattered to him — the one sitting in the centre of his desk. In the packing process, he had found it hidden in a rarely used cupboard. He had long ago blocked those memories, thinking he had made his decision and destroyed that possibility. But that night, after over two years of silence and one vial of Sobering Potion, he read through every last one of her letters, until finally, he picked up a quill and prayed she'd respond.

He would never be able to properly describe the waterfall of relief he had felt that very next morning when the tap of a parchment aeroplane against his office window startled him awake.

But Draco kept that story locked inside and pulled himself back to the present.

"Business," came his answer instead.

She didn't press for more of an explanation, and Draco didn't supply one.

They both stared forward where Scorpius continued to run around and play with the other young witches and wizards. Draco took a spoonful of ice cream but set it down before taking a bite. Eating didn't interest him. Even in silence, all he could think about was the witch by his side. He strained to think of what to say next. They could write about anything and everything, but it wasn't as though Draco could jump into heartfelt conversations without the context of their pen pal correspondence. He should be sufficiently satisfied that they were being civil, that she had even agreed to spend her lunch break with him, but Draco desired more, even when his brain screamed to remind him of the delicacy of their relationship — however one chose to define that word right now.

Yet Draco had never been good at not going for what he wanted. So he pushed, taking whatever measly nugget he could get.

"I never asked how your date was the other week." Granger's attention immediately whipped his way, and his heart jumped into his throat, knowing just how risky the topic was. "Not another redhead, I hope."

She seemed startled by the comment. Was it that unbelievable that Draco would ask her something about her life? After all, she had asked him about his.

He strained to maintain a facade of casualness as he awaited her response.

"He, um, he didn't show," she eventually answered, the tinge of red reappearing across her cheeks.

Draco lifted an eyebrow while his heart threatened to beat out of his ribcage. "Someone dared stand up Hermione Granger and you haven't hunted him down to hex off his balls?"

"Depends. Are you volunteering to help?"

Draco couldn't help but chuckle. Absolutely not.

But her teasing reaction didn't last long. She shrugged, then looked back down at her melting ice cream. "It's more complicated than that."

Merlin, it was, but oh, how Draco wished it wasn't.

"I'm sorry," he choked. "Not just that your date didn't show. For a lot of things."

He could feel Granger's intent stare as he peered down at his buttoned sleeve, covering the angry skin that still bore the faded red outline of a terrible mistake.

"I hope this goes without saying, but I don't believe in any of that anymore," he said, eyes still averted away. "Haven't in a long time. Not once have I tried to instil those beliefs in Scorpius, nor will I ever. It wasn't what either Astoria or I wanted for him. We both wanted to put that ideology behind us, even if we did submit to our parents' pressures to marry and start a family so young."

The walls of his throat were tight and his tongue felt heavy, but Draco pushed the words out anyway. "I should have owled you. Told you I was wrong for all the pain I caused you for so long. You didn't deserve any of it."

He set his forgotten ice cream between them on the bench and met her glossed over gaze.

"If I hadn't been such a pureblooded bigot, do you think—" The question died away, fearful of her answer, but Draco forced himself to finish asking. "Do you think we would have gotten along?"

His skin prickled in anxious anticipation.

"As children, I'm not sure," she said, nothing but honesty reflecting in her expression. "But we're not children anymore. We're getting along just fine now, aren't we?"

A light appeared at the end of the dark labyrinth Draco had spent the last eight days navigating.

She smiled at him. "Never too late to try?"

"Not at all."

It was a fresh start with her. Again. Only this time, she was choosing to be friends with him, Draco Malfoy, not an anonymous person behind a quill.

The flicker of hope sprouted into a healthy flame.

They didn't have much longer after that, and far too soon, Granger had to return to her store.

"Thank you for inviting me, Scorpius," she said to the young wizard. "My ice cream was yummy."

Draco withheld a snort. As if he hadn't just seen her throw out half a cup of butter pecan.

"And it was nice talking with you, Malfoy."

A contented smile spread across his lips. "You as well."

Their eyes locked on one another, and Draco couldn't help but feel like the afternoon had been a success.

The moment broke when Granger looked down to where Scorpius was tugging on her skirt.

"Why call Daddy Malfoy?" He tugged again. "Am I also Malfoy?"

Granger's lips parted but no words came out.

"That's what some people call me," Draco attempted to explain. "Grandma and Grandpa call me Draco, you call me Daddy, and Granger calls me Malfoy. Different names from different people."

"But why?"

Draco didn't know how to answer without opening the nightmare he had so far concealed from his son. He was too young to know about the war. About his father's role in it. About the baseless belief that the Malfoy name made him superior, and thus Draco had wanted everyone to refer to him as such.

But times had changed. As had Draco.

"It does seem silly, doesn't it?" he said to Scorpius. He lifted an eyebrow Granger's way. "Perhaps it's time you start calling me Draco?"

He expected Granger to protest, or at least react in some sort of way, but all she did was get on her knees to meet Scorpius at eye level.

"I'll make you a deal, okay? I'll call your daddy by his given name if you start calling me by mine."

Scorpius rocked on the balls of his feet. "Okay!"

"Can you say Hermione?"

"Huh- may- nee."

"Her- my- oh- nee."

"Huh- mo- nee."

Amused laughter filled the air and Granger looked up at Draco to roll her eyes.

"Apparently, I have two Malfoys incapable of calling me Hermione," she remarked, an edge of amusement in her tone as well. She turned back to Scorpius. "How about this? Can you say Granger?"

Scorpius' face lit up. "Granger!"

His r's came out more like w's, but it seemed to satisfy her.

"Like father, like son, I suppose," she said as she stood back upright. "Will you remember that the next time you see me?"

She lifted out a pinky, and Scorpius put his whole hand around it.

"Granger, Granger, Granger!"

Granger lowered her head and shook it back and forth, but Draco saw her smile clear and bright. There were no words to properly capture the feeling blossoming in his chest. All he knew was that he didn't want that feeling to fade.

Draco cleared his throat and took the plunge. They were too close for him not to seize the chance.

"I guess we'll see you next Saturday then."

Granger looked at him in surprise. "Pardon?"

"We've seen you now four Saturdays in a row," he said, straightening himself to give off more confidence than he felt. "Seems only fitting to continue next week as well."

Granger briefly huffed, but from the slight movements of her lips, he could tell she was suppressing yet another smile. "Well, I'm not one to turn away paying customers."

"Just as long as I don't plan on buying your entire bookshop, right?"

She snickered. "Then it's a good thing it's not for sale," she remarked before fastening the clasp of her cloak, smile no longer hidden. "Goodbye, Scorpius. Goodbye, Draco."

His heart fucking fluttered.

Once she was a few feet away, Draco picked up Scorpius.

"I like Granger," Scorpius beamed.

Draco looked at her departing form. Merlin help him, Draco did too.

...

Floating jack-o-lanterns bobbed in the front window while enchanted toy bats flapped their wings around the shop's perimeter. October had passed in a blur, and Hermione couldn't believe that Halloween was just over a week away.

The sound of the door chime's tinkle pulled Hermione's attention away from the decorating, but she was met with disappointment. Still not them. Yet that didn't concern her. She knew they'd show up; Draco and Scorpius had yet to miss a storybook hour all month.

Hermione stepped off the ladder and got more Weasleys' Wicked Webs from her box of decorations. When the chime tinkled again, Scorpius darted through the door and ran straight to Hermione.

"Hi, Granger," he said, hugging her legs in greeting. When he backed away, she noticed a parchment in his hands. He held it out proudly. "I made this."

Hermione took the parchment and admired the scribbled drawing of what she could only guess was his attempt to draw a vampire.

"I love it," Hermione said after Scorpius explained every part of the drawing. "Should I add it to the collection?"

The hair atop his head flopped as he eagerly agreed.

Only then did Hermione let her gaze track to Malfoy, standing just behind his son and looking equally proud. Just one glance was enough to make her pulse quicken.

"Let's go look at the books, Scorpius," Draco said, attention downcast on his son. "I'll even let you pick two this week."

Scorpius' eyes grew wide. "Two?"

"Two. But only if we pick them out before the story starts."

That was all Scorpius needed to be told before he scurried off to explore the book selection. Yet Draco stayed behind. When he finally looked at Hermione, a slow smile spread across his face.

"Two books?" Hermione teased, pulse now racing. "Sure you're not spoiling him?"

Draco stepped forward, hands in pocket, and laughed. "Everything in moderation, Granger. Otherwise, his book collection will start rivalling this very store."

"I'd like to see that."

"I'm sure you would."

The prolonged length of his pewter gaze stirred a swarm of pixies in Hermione's stomach, so many words still left unspoken. A month had passed, and while so much had changed, the most important thing hadn't. So many times, it had danced on the tip of her tongue, yet the truth was never uttered. By either of them.

The swarm only stilled when he broke their contact to glance towards Scorpius.

"I better help him," Draco said. "But I'll be back in a few minutes?"

Hermione grinned. "You know where to find me."

When Draco left, Hermione went behind the counter and added Scorpius' latest drawing to her growing gallery of children's artwork. Other customers had also started to add their drawings to the collage, but Hermione's secret favourites were all the ones made by a particular blond.

"Surprise, surprise. Once again, Draco and Scorpius Malfoy are here for storybook hour." Penelope stood next to Hermione, eyebrow quirked and arms folded against her chest. "How many weeks in a row is this?"

"He's a loyal customer," Hermione defended, already feeling her skin start to flush.

"A loyal customer that you've taken your lunch break with the past four Saturdays?"

Hermione raised a rivalling eyebrow. "Didn't you just ask how many weeks it's been?"

"Didn't you just avoid answering my question?"

Blast, Penelope. She never let Hermione get away with letting questions go unanswered.

"What I do on my lunch breaks is my own business," Hermione plainly stated, willing her cheeks not to reveal anything more. "I happen to like his son and think he benefits by having another adult in his life."

Penelope didn't look convinced. "Really?" Her eyebrow lifted further. "Or have you found someone to replace your pen pal?"

"Oh, believe me, he is most certainly not replacing my pen pal," Hermione returned, affording herself a private smile. A boost of assuredness swelled inside her chest. "In fact, we're still in communication with each other. Fairly regularly, I might add."

Penelope blinked in startled surprise. "Even after he didn't show? I assumed it was done after that."

"He had his reasons," Hermione vaguely replied. "Now we're figuring things out."

"As friends, or as something more?"

Hermione glanced to where Draco stood. "Still to be decided."

When the time came, Penelope chose a book to read and sat on the stool in front of the crowd of waiting children. The story had barely begun when Draco appeared at the counter, two books in hand and ready for purchase. Just like every other Saturday that month, they began chatting about their weeks while Hermione rang up his total, both pretending as though they hadn't been sending letters to each other every day since the last time he'd been there.

They didn't stop talking even after she completed his checkout. Nor when she left the counter to finish hanging the spiderwebs. As long as Scorpius was occupied with the read aloud, they would continue talking. That was just the way it was.

"So what are your Halloween plans?" Draco asked as he handed her a wad of webs.

Hermione took it from him then stretched it out to cover the top of a bookcase. "Not sure yet. Harry usually wants to do something, but he hasn't told us what. It may be just him and Ginny this year." She cast a Sticking Charm on the corners to set the web in place while bewitched faux spiders crawled across the white threads. "How about you?"

"Scorpius is begging that we go trick-or-treating since someone thought it wise to tell him about that Muggle tradition."

Playful smugness reflected in his features as he held back the next wad of bundled web, but Hermione snatched it out of his grip.

"I thought you were trying to raise your son with a more well-rounded understanding of Muggle culture," she challenged.

"Needn't you worry," Draco stated. "That hasn't changed. I just didn't expect it meant I would have to go into Muggle London and find an astronaut costume so my son can go to strangers' doors and ask for candy."

Hermione paused her decorating. "You bought him a costume?"

"I did."

Imagining Draco dressing up Scorpius for Halloween and guiding him around Muggle neighbourhoods did nothing to help Hermione's attempt to keep things between them artificially platonic.

"Will you be dressing up too?" she asked, already knowing she would regret voicing that question if the answer was yes. But his response was worse than she anticipated.

"Depends on if you can join us."

Hermione had to balance her hand on the top of a bookcase to prevent herself from slipping off the ladder. When she glanced down to look at Draco, a pleased grin was stretched across his lips.

She stepped off the ladder, no longer trusting herself at such heights. Erratic heartbeats echoed in her ears. "See, that's tricky, because I only see you on Saturdays, and Halloween's on a Sunday."

Draco wasn't fazed, letting his grin morph into a smirk. "I think we can make an exception."

His gaze gleamed with a glint of desire, and Hermione felt her whole body melt. Standing in front of him, with her blood thumping and her chest aching, it was growing increasingly difficult to maintain their charade and not succumb to the rousing tension hazing her logic.

She had always thought she'd feel an instant connection with her pen pal whenever they met in person. She thought the feelings from parchment would immediately translate to real life. But that wasn't the case. That had been a foolish belief, rooted in naivety and longing. Sparks didn't always fly the moment you met someone — even if the emotional connection was already there. But good Godric, did she feel them now.

She had never allowed herself to think it during school, but Draco Malfoy was an attractive wizard. He was tall and fit, and he carried himself with an air of confidence that made him all the more alluring. But that wasn't what drew her to him the most. She had fallen for the wizard beneath that exterior, and that was what made it so difficult to stand in front of him pretending as if they didn't share years of mutual feelings.

She wasn't sure she could pretend much longer.

Hermione stepped away, accidentally knocking into the ladder and causing it to wobble.

"Careful there, Granger," Draco said with a laugh. "Unlike these spiders, I promise I don't bite."

She tried to laugh with him, she honestly did, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She felt like she was Icarus, flying so close to the sun that it was becoming dangerous. They could only fly around it for so long before one of them got burned. She wanted to fall with Draco, but not like that.

She sucked in a shaky breath and gathered all the courage her house was famous for. "Draco, I need to tell you something."

Draco turned solemn, all levity faded from his expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she assured him, but his gaze remained dark and distant. "I just—"

Hermione searched for the words. The right thing to say to finally break the illusion they'd been hiding behind. Yet any words she tried to form fell flat on her tongue before she could make a sound.

She peered up at Draco, and her heart constricted. Concern glossed his eyes, glazed with worry that something was the matter. Her fingertips twitched by her side, wondering what it would be like to brush her fingers over his cheek in simple assurance. After hundreds of letters, they didn't need words when the care they held for each other could speak for itself.

But the moment wasn't right. Not here. Not now. Not while she was working, with his son so close, when they couldn't talk about it properly.

She released a resigned sigh, and the lioness inside her chest crawled back into the safety of its den. "I just... can't come to ice cream today."

The light in his eyes reappeared. "Merlin, Granger, that's it?" he said with audible relief. But when she didn't react for several silent beats, Draco added, "You sure everything's okay?"

A pit formed in Hermione's stomach as she gathered the unhung decorations. "Just some accounting paperwork I want to finish. That's all."

Draco remained no farther than two steps behind as she picked up the box and brought it to the office.

"Would you like assistance? I run a business, too, you know."

But Hermione shook her head. "I'll be fine. You and Scorpius have fun without me."

She set the box on the desk and turned to face Draco standing in the doorframe.

"Not sure if that's possible," Draco remarked, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Scorpius will miss you."

The aching in Hermione's chest tightened. "And you?"

He offered her a faint, heart-breaking smile. "Like father, like son."

Long after Draco and Scorpius left, Hermione's heart remained in knots. Once the number of store patrons sufficiently thinned, she returned to the office and closed the door. Except, instead of pulling out any accounting files, she retrieved a pen pal parchment. She may not have been able to voice the words, but she and Draco had always been better with a quill.

End Note: To everyone in America, I hope you have a safe and wonderful Thanksgiving! And to everyone else in the world, happy Thursday :)

*Actual* final chapter will be posted tomorrow at 8:30 pm Eastern.