Author's Note: **In case you missed it, I uploaded a surprise extra chapter yesterday, so if you came here tonight and dived right in to this final chapter, you may want to make sure you read the one before this!**
As promised, here we are :) Without any further delay, let's see how this ends...
"Sad, Daddy?"
Scorpius held Draco's hand as they walked home from the park.
"Not sad," Draco answered. "Just thinking."
While it had still been an enjoyable afternoon with Scorpius, Draco couldn't shake the feeling that there was something Granger wasn't telling him.
Each week, their interactions at the bookstore had grown more amicable. Gone were the sneers and ridicule. She smiled. She laughed. She treated him like someone she wanted to spend more time with.
The animosity that had tainted their previous interactions felt like a distant memory while the line between former adversary and pen pal had blurred. And yet, he still hadn't told her.
But dear Merlin, was he ready to.
The plan had been perfect. They would have gone trick-or-treating together, and then Draco would have invited her back to the townhouse. Nothing improper. A drink. An opportunity to talk as two adults for longer than a handful of minutes in the middle of her workday. And once Scorpius had gone to bed, he would show her the letters.
Except, Draco hadn't considered Potter. Of course Potter would want to be with one of his closest friends on the anniversary of his parents' death. Did he always have to ruin Draco's plans? Surely the Weasleys could prove useful for once.
Though that wasn't what bothered Draco the most.
Something was off. While it was different than seeing it in writing, Draco liked to think he knew Granger well enough to tell when something was bothering her. It was more than just paperwork that prevented her from joining them for ice cream. There was something else that she needed to tell him. Something that she had only considered after he had invited her trick-or-treating.
Draco drew in a breath. He hoped he hadn't pushed things too far by trying to take their friendship beyond the walls of her bookstore and the metal of a park bench. For as much as he appreciated being friends with her, Draco wasn't sure he could keep pretending that his feelings didn't run deeper than that.
Scorpius skipped as they proceeded down the pavement, continuing to hold on to Draco's hand. They were only a few townhouses away when Scorpius gasped, then broke into a sprint.
"Scorpius!" Draco shouted after him, but Scorpius didn't slow.
"Look, Daddy!" he cried.
Draco ran to catch up, which was thankfully not too hard when Scorpius' legs were still so short. It took no more than thirty seconds to have Scorpius in his hold again.
"In Granger's bookstore is one thing, but you can't keep running off all the time," Draco chided, though it didn't seem like Scorpius was fully listening.
He stared back with wide, innocent eyes. "But spaceship."
Draco scrunched his brow, uncertain what Scorpius was getting at, but when he looked to where Scorpius was pointing, his stomach sank.
A parchment aeroplane was knocking its tip into their front door.
Scorpius wiggled his way out of Draco's grip and ran the rest of the way up the steps. He jumped to catch the parchment aeroplane, but Draco snatched it from above Scorpius' outstretched hands.
Draco hadn't thought to leave his office window cracked before they left. Granger never wrote him mid-day. Especially not on Saturdays.
The wave of uncertainty crashed inside his stomach. He wasn't sure what to make of it.
Not waiting to step inside, Draco unfolded the parchment. He held it tight as he began to read.
Most cherished friend,
I have always been honest with you and must be honest with you now as well. For the greater part of the past six years, you have been a pillar in my life. Over that time, my feelings for you developed. To what, I wasn't sure, but I knew that I cared for you. Very much. I had hoped that when we met last month, I would figure out what that meant for us and see if you felt the same. But as you already know, that night didn't go as I — or you — envisioned.
"What does spaceship say?"
Draco shooed Scorpius away. "Shh. Daddy's still reading."
The hammering of his heartbeat escalated as he moved to the next paragraph.
I am endlessly grateful that we have maintained our correspondence these past few weeks since then. I continue to look forward to every word you write. But I have also started spending time with someone. Someone who I am interested in getting to know better. His and my past may complicate things at times, but there's something about him that makes me tingle with anticipation whenever we interact. The only other person who has ever made me feel that way is you.
I respect if you're still not ready to meet. But I also care for you too much to not give us the proper chance we deserve.
The parchment dropped to his side as Draco's knees gave out and he fell against the door.
His head felt light as he tried to process. Granger liked her pen pal. While Draco already knew that, it was different seeing that confirmation, in her handwriting, purposefully telling him. Yet she was debating those feelings with what she felt for someone else. Someone she had recently started spending time with. Someone she wanted to get to know better. Someone she had felt inclined to tell her pen pal about right after he had invited her trick-or-treating.
Was that what she had been trying to tell Draco that afternoon? That she had feelings for someone else? But she didn't. She had feelings for him.
Merlin's fucking beard, she had feelings for him. Not just him, her pen pal; him, Draco Malfoy.
A laugh broke free from Draco's chest, mere puffs of air still grappling the discovery. He read the parchment again. A third time. He still couldn't quite believe it.
"Daddy happy now?"
Draco picked up Scorpius and swung him high in the air, letting the ripples of Scorpius' giggles mix with Draco's elation.
"Yes, Daddy is very happy now."
After he set Scorpius down and unlocked the door to let him inside, Draco took a few more minutes to himself. He lifted the parchment and read it once more, a display of fireworks igniting with every sentence.
Resting his back against the townhouse's exterior, Draco closed his eyes and imagined his pen pal. Imagined her. For so long, she had been a brunette blur. Now he could picture her clearly, curly hair and warm brown eyes, dipping her quill into an inkwell while she wrote to him in her shop's office.
He couldn't wait until Halloween. He needed to tell her sooner. Tomorrow.
A new plan instantly sparked.
Back in his office, Draco pulled out a parchment and wrote her one last letter.
We've come too far in the past six years for me not to feel the same about you. Though I sometimes wonder if "care" is the best word to describe it. I can only hope that when we meet, you'll still see me the same way.
The attached Portkey will activate tomorrow night at nine. I'll be waiting for you at the destination. I promise.
As soon as he sent the letter, Draco reached into his top left desk drawer and pulled out the worn letter he cherished so deeply. His fingertips brushed over its creases as he read those long-ago memorised words. A hopeful smile spread across his lips.
Tomorrow.
...
The day had been torturous. Never before had Draco believed time to move so slow. The sluggish speed of sand trickling through an hourglass seemed to drip from Draco's heart into his stomach, leaving his stomach heavier with every second that passed.
Narcissa came just before dinner, and Scorpius didn't argue when only she put him to bed. On the next floor up, Draco adjusted his tie in the mirror, feeling the accumulation of sand shift inside him as he checked his reflection one final time. Then, when there was nothing more Draco could do to delay, he snatched the box off the corner of his bed and Disapparated.
It was already dark when Draco arrived, save the moonlight overhead. The park had a peaceful stillness to it when it wasn't filled with the delighted shouts of young witches and wizards. In the faint distance, Draco could hear the nearby jostle of the stores on Diagon Alley closing for the night. He checked his watch. He still had a half-hour to prepare.
One by one, he removed the letters from the box and levitated them into space. He started with the ones from October 1998. How lonely Draco had been back then, the horrors of the war still fresh. Then came the letters from that subsequent spring, when the thin friendship they had maintained started to sincerely develop. That summer when he wrote her every day despite his mother's insistence that he spend more time getting to know other witches. That December when his mother had grown sick and she had helped him through it. That March when he knew the end was coming.
In the darkness, he constructed their timeline, the story of them. The letters formed a parchment passageway, starting on one side and twisting until it reached the end where Draco would stand. Every letter she had ever written lined the walls — all, except for one. Once the letters were in position, Draco cast a spell so twinkling lights illuminated the entire space. The muted glow of a thousand balls of light radiated throughout the park.
Now, all Draco had to do was wait.
The swoosh of her Portkey swirled through the air, and Draco felt his breathing catch. Just as he had designed, she seemed to have landed on the opposite end of the passage. He listened closely, straining to hear any noise she made, regardless of how small. The faint sound of her initial gasp sent a jolt straight to Draco's heart. She was there, and in a few minutes, she'd see him.
Any other thoughts felt unreachable other than the witch headed his way. Draco counted the seconds. He imagined her strolling through the passageway, jaw agape as she saw all the words she had written him over the past several years. Knowing her, she would probably pause to read a few of them, capturing snippets of memories that had led them to this very moment and were now leading her to him.
Padded footsteps grew closer, and Draco prepared himself. Any second now, she'd turn the final curve and discover Draco Malfoy at the end. Him. The wizard who had so relentlessly bullied her. Believed her to be beneath him. Stood on the sidelines while she was tortured in his home. But he was no longer that wizard. Somehow, in the past several weeks, he had convinced her to see that.
A shadow appeared on the grass. First just a sliver, then the silhouette of a head and a torso, until finally, standing no more than ten feet away, he saw her.
The glisten of tears streaked down her cheeks, but hell if she wasn't the most captivating thing Draco had ever seen. Her lips were parted, seeming to struggle to find words as she shook her head back and forth. When she brought her lips back together, she caught the bottom with a nip of her teeth before a choked laugh escaped her.
Relief flooded through Draco, drenching him with pure euphoria in the process.
He paced forward. "One thousand three hundred and forty-seven," he said, unable to take his focus off of her. "That's how many letters you sent me." Draco reached into his pocket and lifted the worn parchment. "But none of them meant more to me than this one."
His eyes never left hers as he recited the line. "I don't think anyone's incapable of change. Sometimes they just need—"
"The right motivator to help them get on that path." Her smile was infectious. "I know exactly what I said."
The light's glow glimmered in her gaze, wide and bright as she stared up at him, and in that moment, nothing else mattered other than the two of them.
"Granger," Draco said, closing the space between them so her chin near touched the edge of his chest. He swept away the lingering wetness on her cheeks. "Hermione."
The simplest touch made his pulse race. In all the ways he had pictured this scene, he had never imagined it would be this easy. But something with her just felt natural. Like they both knew that they were meant to end up in each other's arms.
Then again, it had almost been too easy. She hadn't even looked surprised to see him.
Suddenly, it all clicked.
Draco hung his head and snorted. When he returned his gaze to hers, he had a newfound smile on his face. "How long have you known?"
"As long as you have," Hermione confessed, her own smile dancing on the corners of her mouth. She reached into her bag and revealed an elegant quill. Her smile broke free. "I think you may have forgotten something outside the cafe."
Draco thread his fingers through her hair and laughed. "You brilliant, beautiful witch."
He didn't wait any longer after that. When his lips found hers, he could no longer picture a world in which he hadn't kissed Hermione Granger. His hand slipped to the back of her neck, and he felt her melt into him. Nothing else had ever felt so simple. So perfect.
The softness of her lips consumed his thoughts, and Draco lost himself in the actualisation of so many years of built-up feelings. He could have stayed like that for hours, revelling in the pure bliss of her kiss, but before Draco let himself get too carried away, he pulled back.
Hermione bit the bottom of her lip while the tingle of their kiss lingered on his. She cupped her hand against his jaw and peered up at him with a yearning look.
"So what do we do now?"
"Whatever you want," Draco answered. "As I already told you, I'm not going anywhere. So long as you still want me, of course."
Hermione brushed her thumb across his cheek. "I've wanted you for years, Draco, and I have no intention of that changing."
That was all Draco needed to hear.
His lips crashed back into hers with no plan to pull away again. His fingers tangled into her curls, keeping Hermione firmly in place as the gentle caress of her tongue swept over his. Every inch of Draco's skin felt like it was burning, desperate to be cooled by her tender touch. It had been ages since he had so much as kissed someone, yet it had never felt like this. Never this fire. Never this ardent need. He couldn't imagine kissing anyone different ever again.
There would be a time for Hermione and him to talk more about what this meant for them, but they'd let nothing except words flow between them for far too long. Tonight, he just wanted to be with her.
Never breaking their kiss, Draco retrieved his wand from his pocket. With a single nonverbal spell, all the letters soared through the air and folded themselves back into the box. The warmth of their connection continued to spread through Draco like the delicious burn of Firewhisky, and Draco knew then that he could never have enough of this witch. Finding the space between her fingers, he laced their hands together. With one hand on the box and the other intertwined with hers, they Disapparated.
They landed in Draco's bedroom with a soft thud. The box dropped to the floor, and within a matter of heartbeats, he had her laid out on top of his bed. He leaned in to capture her with another kiss, growing more insistent with every breath that passed. Kiss after kiss, his need only grew more urgent. Draco knew how he felt about her, even if it was too soon to say a particular word. But one thing was certain: he would accept whatever she was willing to give.
Her fingers raked through the strands of his hair, pulling him closer so her body's curves pressed against him. Their hands were everywhere after that. The dip of her waist. The nape of his neck. The hem of her blouse.
Shallow breaths left their lungs as he paused to look at her. Her eyes were ablaze, fueled with the same desire that coursed through Draco.
"Are you okay with this?" He felt the answer in his heart but needed that confirmation.
Hermione nodded, yet something in her gaze grew cautious. "Are you? We don't have to rush into anything."
An honest laugh escaped Draco's lips. "Rush? We've waited six years for this. I'm not waiting any longer."
He dragged the blouse over her shoulders, revealing the creamy skin hidden underneath. Piece by piece, the rest of their clothing fell discarded on the ground until all they were left in was their underwear.
Her curls were splayed across the pillow as Draco slipped one hand under the fabric of her bra and filled his palm with her breast. Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's neck and pulled him in for a kiss, letting the sound of her moans hum against his lips.
Merlin, he wanted her. He wasn't sure he had ever wanted anything more in his life.
His touch explored every inch of her skin, while the pulse of his erection was becoming undeniable. When her fingers dipped beneath the elastic of his boxers and circled around his length, Draco knew he was done for. His sharp hiss cut through the air before he tightened his grip in her hair and smashed their lips together. Travelling down the smooth expanse of her torso, his own fingers reached the lace of her knickers and found the already slick folds waiting underneath. The heady bliss consumed him as he pushed two fingers inside, feeling her walls clench around him. Hermione broke their connection, head drawn back as she let out a strangled breath and arched off the mattress. Draco relished the sight, but his need wasn't yet sated.
With a craving tug, Draco pushed her knickers down the length of her bare legs. She kicked them to the ground while the heat of her gaze watched Draco discard himself of the final layer of fabric blocking his naked form. Surging desire rocketed through his veins, mixed with a tangle of knotted nerves. Few witches had seen him like this, none in many years. Yet nothing felt more right than this moment, right here, right now.
He stole one last kiss before poising his tip at her entrance. Slowly, he sank into her as Hermione's delectable gasp filled the room. She was tight and warm in the most blissful, overwhelming way. His movements started slow, savouring every inch that he filled her with, while the push of his hips pressed against her. After all these years, he was finally sleeping with his pen pal — with Hermione Granger — and he intended to make this last.
They chased each other's pleasure, sighs and moans passing between them with every thrust. He worshipped every part of her. Their bodies worked in perfect harmony, as if their magic intertwined and made them one. When the flutter of her climax clenched around him, Draco kissed her intently, soon following with his own release.
Spent and satisfied, Draco crashed onto the bed next to Hermione. She radiated in the aftermath and curled her body around his, resting her head against his chest.
"I'm never letting you go," Hermione said as she nestled closer.
Draco kissed the top of her curls. "I'm not going anywhere."
Together, they drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
...
Morning came too soon, but waking up was infinitely better with Hermione wrapped in his embrace. He swept his fingers through her hair, careful not to break her slumber. Even sleeping, she was the most beautiful witch he had ever seen.
Rays of early sun cast onto the bedspread, and Hermione started to stir. She hummed slightly, then peered up at Draco with an amber-glinted gaze.
"Morning."
Draco couldn't fight his smile, even if he wanted to. "Morning."
He traced mindless patterns on top of her bare skin, still in disbelief that he finally had her. Perhaps a little optimism wasn't the worst thing in the world.
From the other side of the door, Draco heard the gentle creak of footsteps on the staircase, and he knew Scorpius was awake. Every muscle in his body didn't want to move. The bed called to him with the temptation to stay there all day long. If he didn't know this would be far from the only time Hermione woke up in his arms, he likely would have given in. But Draco had other responsibilities, as did she.
"I have to make Scorpius breakfast," he said, fingertips still not leaving her skin.
She sighed. "And I have to get to the shop."
Draco glanced at the clock, not ready to let her go just yet. "Your store doesn't open for another hour. Think you have time to eat with us?"
Her tongue crossed the seam of her lips, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. "What about Scorpius?"
"He may be smart for his age, but he's still three. He won't suspect anything," Draco said, tilting her chin up as he gave her a reassuring smile. "We don't need to tell him just yet."
He leaned in to kiss her, the first of many morning kisses to come in the weeks, months, and hopefully years ahead.
It didn't take long for them to get ready for the day; all they needed were a few Freshen Up Charms to do the trick. When they headed downstairs, Draco could already hear noise from within the kitchen. He pushed open the door, prepared to discover a mess of cereal scattered across the tile floor, but that wasn't the case.
Draco froze, surprised to see his son not alone — almost as surprised as Narcissa seemed to see her son not alone.
Hermione stalled next to him.
"Granger!" Scorpius shouted, wobbling off his seat around the table to run and greet Hermione. "You eat breakfast with us?"
Neither Draco nor Hermione answered him, both too stricken by Narcissa seated next to where Scorpius had just been.
"Mother," Draco startled. "What are you still doing here?"
Narcissa set her teacup down on its saucer. "I thought I'd stay to have breakfast with my son and grandson before heading back to France," she said before tracking her gaze from Draco to Hermione. "I didn't realise we'd have company."
Draco hadn't told his mother the reason he had needed her to watch Scorpius last night. In the anticipation of the reveal, it was one less thing for him to concern himself over. But now, with Hermione firmly by his side, Draco grinned.
"I'd like you to meet my pen pal."
A second wave of surprise flashed across Narcissa's features, but once the initial shock wore off, she gave Hermione a polite smile. "A pleasure to see you again, Miss Granger."
Hermione did the same. "Likewise, Mrs Malfoy."
Scorpius pulled on Draco's trousers. "What's a pen pal?"
"I'll tell you when you're older," Draco answered, crouching down to look at Scorpius more directly. "But for now, it means Granger is going to be around a lot more. Is that okay?"
Scorpius nodded in rapid succession, then looked between Hermione and Draco expectantly. "Do I get more books?"
Draco laughed. "You can have as many books as you want."
When the excitement settled, Hermione and Draco joined Scorpius and Narcissa around the table. Underneath the table's top and blocked from everyone else's view, Draco reached out and laced his fingers with Hermione's, never wishing for anything more than this.
That late October morning, they ate breakfast together for the first time as a family. Eighteen months later, that family became official.
End Note: Thank you all so much for reading! All your lovely, wonderful comments have made this story such a joy to write and publish. I am forever grateful.
While this is the end of this tale, I have quite a few Dramione stories on the horizon including two (*fingers crossed*) one-shots coming out next month and a mid-length multi-chapter in early 2021 (probably mid to late January). In the meantime, I have plenty of other finished fics if you want to check out those as well.
Much love to all of you, and happy start to the holiday season! xx