Epilogue Part 1
October/November 1998
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Department of Mind Healing
Tonks motioned to the office entrance.
"After you."
Draco eyed the beige door in front of him. The Mind Healer's name and credentials were carved on a brass plate attached at eye level. He placed his hand on the doorknob but couldn't make himself turn it. At his hesitancy, Tonks continued, "For obvious reasons, I haven't been able to see her this year when I would have needed her the most. But she helped me quite a lot when I was first sent into the field. She understands."
Draco's mouth went dry and his hand started to tremble. He knew he had to open the door. He knew he wouldn't get better if he didn't start seeing someone regularly. But the Mind Healer was a complete stranger. He could barely talk about the depths of his guilt and self-loathing with Hermione and Tonks.
"No judgement," Tonks whispered and laid a hand on his wrist, stilling his movements. "I promise."
Her gentle, encouraging touch gave him strength. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Draco pushed the door open to reveal an old woman with white hair in a bun, sitting at a desk. She was short with thick glasses perched on the edge of her nose, and reminded Draco of the museum docent at the National Gallery.
"Hello, Draco. And welcome." Unlike the museum docent's authoritative voice, hers was kinder and more patient. "Nymphadora has given me a brief explanation of what we may be dealing with. Have a seat."
She motioned to the chairs in front of her desk and they both sat down. "Thank you."
"You prefer to have Nymphadora sit with you? At least in the beginning?"
He eyed his cousin, who sent him a smile of encouragement, and he nodded wordlessly.
"So," she placed a parchment and quill on the desk in front of her. "How are you feeling today?"
It was a simple enough question, but his chest tightened and his throat closed around tears he didn't want to shed. 'Fine' was the expected answer. That's what people usually wanted to hear when they asked. Troubles were supposed to be easily solved with a hug, warm meal and a good night's sleep.
Despite the overwhelming compulsion making him want to crawl out of his skin, he didn't Occlude. Tonks told Draco he must immediately stop using Occlumency as a coping mechanism, so he forced an easy smile and replied, "I'm alright."
He didn't know this woman, and didn't trust her. Old habits die hard.
The Mind Healer tilted her head and, uneasily, he watched a Quick Quotes Quill make some notes on the parchment. She didn't buy it. Even he heard the shakiness in his voice, but she didn't press him, and Tonks said nothing.
After the scratching on the parchment stopped, the Mind Healer gave him a warm smile and asked, "I assume Nymphadora already discussed with you what treatment usually entails?"
Her eyes were encouraging but searching, and he felt uncomfortable under her scrutiny. Averting his gaze to his hands in his lap, he hummed to the affirmative.
"Excellent. I'll review what we try to achieve in these sessions anyway, and we'll need to perform some assessments…"
Her voice dissolved into the background as Draco remembered the tiny bodies of dead children that haunted his dreams at night, and the accusatory eyes of Fred Weasley and Luna Lovegood following him during the day.
He tried to swallow, but his throat was thick with tears threatening to burst forth.
"Does that sound alright, Draco?"
He looked up and cleared his throat. Her quill was still working furiously across the parchment.
"Yes."
"Does my quill make you nervous?"
He chuckled mirthlessly. "A bit."
Her quill also reminded him of Rita Skeeter, and how he'd always been such a prick.
"Would you prefer if I didn't use a Quick Quotes Quill? We won't cover as much ground in a session but I'd much rather you feel comfortable."
He raised his eyebrows gratefully. "Yes, thank you."
She placed it aside and continued writing on her own. While she worked, Draco recalled the nausea of indecision the night of the Paddington safe house raid, standing above Dedalus Diggle's unconscious body. Back then, he didn't know if his family would be tortured and killed for failure to capture a prisoner.
Even with the benefit of hindsight, he wasn't any wiser regarding what would have happened. But the result of that night had essentially been Draco slowly beating an Auror to death. He didn't know when Dedalus finally died from his wounds, but the inhuman shrieks from the end of Draco's wand, boot or fist lived on in Draco's memories.
The nausea from that night of the safe house raid returned full force. He swallowed bile, and then swallowed again, wincing at the sour taste in his mouth. His eyes burned from the beginnings of tears and he dug his fingers into his palms, trying to stop himself from vomiting, crying, or both.
"Draco. Nymphadora." He blinked and glanced up as his cousin turned to the Mind Healer in surprise. "I want you both to know that people like you are why I first chose to specialize in the effects of dark magic on the mind."
"What?" Draco asked, taken aback from the shift in subject.
"What?" Tonks repeated.
"The two of you sinned so that we may be free." She paused and bowed her head slightly, "Thank you for your service."
Draco's sucked in a breath. He couldn't bear being treated like a hero, but her gratitude soothed the stiff ache in his limbs like Hermione's comforting hands. Unable to contain his contradictory emotions any longer, he dropped his head into his hands, and sobbed until he had no more tears.
Courtroom Number Seven, Ministry of Magic
Draco sat in the defendant's chair for three days. The trial wasn't easy, but he needed it. Hearing the long list of his sins debated as if he weren't even present made him feel like his body was scrubbed raw. Harsh and rough, but new skin exposed underneath.
He shifted to ease the pain in his back from sitting on the hard wood for so long. The Independent Oversight Committee made no attempt to make him comfortable, and he supposed he preferred it that way.
It was a long, exhausting three days in which a string of witnesses attested to his selflessness and the purity of his motivations. Kingsley, Tonks (whose trial would start shortly after his concluded), Cho Chang, Severus (who had been acquitted the previous week, just like he had been during the First Wizarding War), the Chosen One and his Weasel.
And Hermione.
The trial was closed door, and his mother not permitted entry. It was for the best. She had enough worries with his father sitting in Azkaban awaiting his own trial. But as the main witness, Hermione was present throughout, and he suspected she was informing his mother of each day's events.
Draco's heart swelled as he listened to Hermione defend his actions over the war with a loud, clear voice that echoed throughout the chamber. Any attempt by the prosecutor to undermine her testimony was met with a clipped, authoritative tone that reminded Draco of McGonagall. With grief twisting his stomach, he remembered his ex-Transfiguration teacher with her arms held up, single handedly shielding the castle entrance as they scrambled to safety.
"And where was the IOC during that battle? Throughout the entire damn war?" He recalled Hermione's righteous indignation in the days leading up to his trial. Unlike Draco, she disagreed vehemently with everything going on here, but played her part to ensure his freedom.
The prosecutor, nearly three times Hermione's age, raised a skeptical eyebrow after she finished speaking. "Your relationship with the defendant would compromise your testimony, wouldn't it?"
Before Draco's solicitor could object, Hermione replied calmly, "On the contrary. It's solid evidence he's abandoned blood supremacist beliefs long ago. Is this a trial or fodder for Witch Weekly?"
The titters in the courtroom and blush creeping across the older man's face shut down that line of questioning immediately. Draco smiled in pride as he watched Hermione pull a classic Shacklebolt move, using her opponent's argument against him.
Clearly put off his game, the prosecutor asked a few more innocuous questions before Hermione returned to her seat and the next witness was called up.
Sitting as an observer while others spoke, she held Draco's gaze, silently conveying her love and support through her eyes as his sins were hung out like dirty laundry for others to inspect. But when Hermione heard the retelling of Dedalus' capture, torture and death, she looked like she'd been slapped. Draco knew that she understood his moral and ethical quandaries, and how terrified he'd been. It was the same situation as sixth year. But something about the incident with Dedalus momentarily contorted her face with shock and horror.
He didn't know why.
Everyone was sent out while the IOC discussed his case, and after an hour Draco was brought back alone to stand before them and receive their judgement.
"Sentenced to three years without magic. The Ministry will safe guard your wand until such time has passed."
Draco was awash in such a confusing mixture of relief and disappointment. Despite his recent sessions with the Mind Healer, part of him still wanted to be sent to Azkaban. He was learning to identify the lingering effects of Unforgivable usage, and tried to focus on the relief.
His Mind Healer repeated some of what Tonks told him after the battle. There were other ways to repent and seek forgiveness. He would be useless in Azkaban. There was so much good he could do in the world to atone, if that's what he truly wanted.
It certainly helped that he had so many sharing in his relief with him. Between Hermione and his mother, the tangle of female arms grabbing at his face and shoulders, tears wetting his shirt, and lips pressing against his cheeks, his disappointment was easily overcome. Their happiness was so infectious; he'd completely forgotten to ask Hermione what bothered her so much about Dedalus Diggle.
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Janus Thickey Ward
"Oh! Hermione! There you are!" her father called out. "We've been so worried!"
Draco wasn't prepared, and he stood helpless, heart aching while he watched the Granger family reunion. He hadn't been allowed to leave the country prior to his trial with the IOC, and so Potter and the Weasleys went to Australia with her to bring Hermione's parents back. He felt awful for not being able to go, but Draco had accompanied her to St. Mungo's every day since as the Healers slowly returned her parents' memories under sedation. It would be a several month long road to recovery. Today was the first day they were awake.
"Mum! Dad!" were the broken cries that left her lips as her face crumpled.
Hermione threw herself into their arms, almost immediately dissolving into gut wrenching sobs. Hot tears pricked his eyes as she clung to her parents, and he stood in the doorway, awkwardly watching them. Both Draco and Hermione lost the safety and security of their childhood that came from familial structure. He was grateful she was getting hers back.
"It's alright!" her mother soothed her, rubbing her back. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and pushed harsh wheezing sounds through her teeth. "Hermione, love, it's alright!" She repeated, surprised by the intensity of Hermione's anguish. "The doctor explained there would be memory lapses from our concussions, but we'll be alright!"
It wasn't recommended that Hermione tell them the truth of their condition until they were fully recovered. An automobile accident was the story for now. But Draco would be with Hermione when she told them the truth.
If she wanted.
Her father stroked her hair while her shoulders shook, heaving with each sob.
Draco hadn't internalized just how much Hermione was holding inside throughout the war until that day, and how much it depleted from her. When she and Draco returned to one of the Order safe houses later that afternoon, she slept clear until mid-morning the next day while he held her.
In the weeks that followed, Draco's heart broke to see the agonizing struggle with her parents. Sometimes they remembered their daughter, but more often than not, they didn't. Not like the first day when woken from sedation. Occasionally one of her parents would recognize her and the other not, making for a heartbreakingly awkward conversation. Sometimes they'd have vague recollections of memories of her childhood, and that often hurt Hermione more than when they didn't remember anything.
It was a long process fraught with ups and downs, not a linear recovery. Sometimes Potter came with them. Sometimes the Weasel, or his parents, sometimes his sister, who now had a permanent limp.
Draco didn't know what he dreaded more. The hopeful expression on Hermione's face before entering their room, or the utter defeat crippling her body on a day when she was on the receiving end of a polite smile for the lovely young man and woman who came to visit them daily.
"It's alright, love," her father reassured her, giving the back of her neck a squeeze. "It'll be okay." Looking up, he met Draco's eyes and smiled. "Is this a friend of yours from…" he craned his neck to peep around Draco's form blocking the hallway, "from Hogwarts?" he finished with a whisper.
Hermione released a shuddering sigh and turned around. She wiped the tears and snot from her face, wetting her curls and blinked, perhaps having forgotten he was there. With red cheeks and puffy eyes, she explained in a trembling voice, "That's Draco Malfoy. He's much more than a friend."
Her mother reached out a warm hand and Draco clasped it. Her lips spread in a smile that instantly made him feel close to them. "He must be if he came with you here."
Azkaban
Draco was completely taken aback by Hermione's insistence that she accompany him on his bi-weekly visits to Azkaban where his father awaited trial. He went with her every afternoon to St. Mungo's, but coming to Azkaban wasn't the same. She was walking directly into her nightmares, and reliving her torture every single time.
Just like him, Hermione was supposed to stop Occluding, and to train her mind and body to rely on physical means to ground herself if a panic attack ensued. Draco feared their visits to his father would set her recovery backwards, but she explained that facing her fears in a controlled environment would actually help.
And she'd be damned if his aunt prevented her from standing by his side.
Draco wondered what could possibly withstand the sheer force of her will.
He smiled. Probably nothing.
The magnitude of her gesture did not go unnoticed, nor unappreciated by his mother.
Draco and Narcissa took turns entering the controlled visiting area to talk with his father while the other sat with Hermione in the waiting area. Each time his mother exited so Draco could take his turn, she appeared to age slightly. White strands appeared in her blond hair, and the small lines of her face began to deepen into wrinkles. He didn't think it was possible to feel any guiltier about his actions during the war, but watching his father deteriorate in a solitary cell, knowing Lucius chose to do so to protect Draco and his mother, brought on a fresh wave of grief.
He asked Hermione what she and his mother spoke about while waiting for him, and she explained that even though things were awkward at first, they gradually warmed up to each other. She didn't elaborate further.
His mother still said repugnant things about Hermione's heritage out of habit, but Hermione knew she was trying. Much like Draco had over a year ago, she viewed Hermione as one of the 'proper ones'. An exception to Muggle-born inferiority just like her brother-in-law and Potter's mother. Ingrained prejudice didn't go away easily, and Hermione knew it would be a struggle. But it was a struggle she was willing to go through with him.
One day, he exited his father's cell to see his mother sitting next to Hermione in the visitor's area with the color returned to her sallow cheeks. Every visit since, he noticed the same pattern. His mother would exit the area where she spoke with Lucius, unnaturally pale and a haunted look in her blue eyes. But when Draco rejoined her and Hermione, she'd returned to herself, despite the overarching presence of Dementors in the building.
He loved Hermione, she was a wonderful woman, but even she couldn't have that kind of effect on his mother. Draco wondered what they were doing.
One day the three stood on the shore of Azkaban ready to Apparate home. It was cold, biting mid-November weather but his mother's eyes were bright with mischief. She raised a conspiratorial eyebrow towards Hermione, who smirked in return.
Draco eyed the two of them, suddenly feeling uneasy. "What's going on?"
His mother turned to face him. "Hermione has made these visits much easier on me."
"I've noticed," Draco replied, still wary. "We're lucky she insists on coming."
"Maybe one day she'll come to formally meet Lucius?"
His mother sounded hopeful, but he noticed the reluctant downturn of Hermione's mouth.
"Let's wait until they relax security measures. More than one person can see him at a time, then."
He didn't miss the gratitude in Hermione's eyes. She was already doing enough; he didn't want to push her into something she wasn't ready for.
"Very well," his mother was disappointed, but accepted his answer. She held up her wand and looked back towards Hermione, who nodded in encouragement, and she readied herself to cast something.
"What are you doing?"
Narcissa inhaled a deep breath, closed her eyes, and spread her mouth in a small smile of contentment. Her voice was strong and steady as she spoke. "Expecto patronum."
Draco's lips parted as a large, graceful lioness leapt out of her wand in a shimmery display of magic, brightening their cold, grey surroundings. He looked up at the elation in his mother's face, and shifted his gaze to the love reflected in Hermione's. She taught his mother, but she did it for him. He reached out with his pinky and curled it around hers. Hermione's fingers laced in his, and she squeezed. Draco's throat was thick with emotion as he watched the silver animal stalk in a circle around them, infusing the air with hope and a contented closeness.
A lion.
Draco chuckled. "So you're a Gryffindor, mother? Is that it?"
She scoffed, leading her Patronus around the tall grass of the island. "I taught you better than to use foul language."
Hermione snorted.
Despite her joking, his mother was clearly pleased with the corporeal form her Patronus took.
"Female lions lie quietly in wait for the right moment to strike," Hermione replied, with a pleased expression of her own.
"Yes, they do," his mother replied.
Hermione's smile widened as she turned to his mother. "They're especially deadly if there's a threat to their cubs."
His mother shared a knowing glance with Hermione, and then returned to making the lion crouch down, rear back and leap.
Hermione whispered to him as his mother proudly led her lioness around. "I have a day-trip planned for us tomorrow."
He raised his eyebrows as a thrill of excitement rushed through him, almost making him forget the hollow expression on his father's face.
"Where to?"
"It's a surprise."
She had the same shit-eating grin as the day she had taken him to the National Space Centre.
"Does England have another space museum?"
"Much better than that."
"Something with guns?"
"Infinitely more powerful."
Draco wanted to ask, but knew Hermione wouldn't tell. He felt like he had springs in his heels, and started bouncing in anticipation.
His mother dissolved the lion and looked up at the two of them, face alight from the rush of Patronus magic. "Ready to leave?"
"What memory did you use?" Draco asked, now curious.
She approached him and tenderly tucked a longer lock of his fringe behind his ear. Her blue eyes were clear and full of happiness, but a tear made its way down her cheek nonetheless.
"You."
Baikonur Cosmodrome, Kazakhstan
Draco held Hermione's hand tighter and tensed his legs. The ground rumbled softly as the roar of fuel combustion sounded in the distance. The shaking intensified until they nearly fell over despite standing over a mile away. Hermione laughed out loud as they stumbled against each other, trying to remain upright. Grinning from ear to ear, he supported her and she supported him. Somehow they remained on their feet, clinging to each other while they staggered on the unstable ground.
There was a huge burst of light and flame, and smoke quickly followed, billowing up, out and around, obscuring much of the Proton rocket and Zarya – the first module of the International Space Station to be sent into orbit. The rocket launched, rapidly rising into the air, propelling the module up, fighting against the Earth's gravitational field.
They heard gasps from the crowd of on-lookers and Draco wrapped his arms around Hermione, holding her flush against his body as the ground gradually stopped shaking.
Eyes wide in wonder, they watched as the rocket fought to free itself of the Earth's control. Draco's lips parted in amazement at the streak of smoke left in its wake across the sky. He couldn't believe the wizarding world had no idea this was going on. The rocket slowly made its way upward and they squinted until they were no longer able to see anything.
In two weeks, the Americans would send up their module, and another one a few years later. Europe and Japan were next, slated to attach their own laboratories several years after. Over the next several years, a space station would be built where astronauts could perform experiments unrestrained by the laws of gravity.
"You're free," she whispered.
He was. The Independent Oversight Committee more or less acquitted him, just like Tonks had predicted. He still had the pardon if he wanted his wand back, but he chose not to use it.
At least, for now.
Draco tightened his grip around her waist, and rested his chin atop her head as they stared at the plumes of dust and smoke settling in the distance from the launch site.
Tonks' trial was currently underway, and it appeared that she'd serve a several month stint in Azkaban. The IOC was much harsher on Tonks than on him. Aside from charging her with violating the Auror Rules of Engagement, which she had ensured everyone else adhered to, Draco suspected they had an aversion to the introduction of Muggle weapons and their potential devastation on Wizarding society.
Tonks had blown a door open, so to speak, and it would never be closed again. They wanted to make an example of her.
He didn't think it would work.
Nevertheless, Draco was grateful Tonks spared Hermione their scrutiny.
"Hermione?"
"Mmmmm?"
"What did Tonks cover up?"
She glanced back at him and her eyes watered.
"Oh." She bit her lip in thought. "It was my idea to blow up the safe houses."
They had already talked about why she hadn't warned him earlier, and he knew the Order was right. He likely would have sabotaged the explosions and endangered himself, his friends and family with his need to warn them.
"But there's something else. Isn't there? You told me you murdered people, too."
She blinked up at him, and laced her fingers through his. "Draco," her lip trembled. "I don't think I should tell you yet."
Seeing a Mind Healer regularly was helping him come to terms with his actions. The darkness would always be there, but he was learning to forgive himself, slowly, and to focus on the future. He knew that Hermione's time in Azkaban still haunted her, as did some of the things she did during the war. But she was recovering faster than him, and was better able to justify her own actions during the war. Not only that, but Bellatrix was rapidly becoming a distant memory as she looked forward to the challenges ahead.
Did she kill one of his friends? He could hardly blame her for that.
"Are you afraid I'll be mad at you? Is that why?"
She shook her head and a tear fell. "No, not this time. If it were only me you'd be angry with, I would have told you already."
It must be related to something he did.
"That answer worries me more."
She rubbed the vein on the underside of his wrist with her thumb and studied his eyes. Hermione assured him they hadn't gone dark since the final battle, but he still worried they would.
"Can you trust me on this?" she asked, her voice lilting upwards in hope. "We'll talk about it when the time is right. I promise."
"I don't like that answer."
"I know. But we're dealing with a lot right now, and there's no rush. Can it wait?"
It was true. They both felt somewhat adrift without the security of the family structure they'd grown up with as children. Instinctively, he wanted to know what she wasn't telling him, but his heart warmed at her words.
But we're dealing with a lot right now…
We're…
We.
His problems were hers, and her problems were his. That's what it meant to face the future together with someone you loved.
"Alright," he swallowed, and couldn't help but feel somewhat weak in that she didn't think he could handle whatever it was that she knew. He wanted to make things easier on her, too. "You don't have to go with me to Azkaban, you know."
"You're helping me too, Draco," Hermione seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. "You're there with me every day with my parents, you came to Fred and Charlie's memorials and I know what that cost you. You've attended every single Order funeral despite Oliver, Eloise and Hannah being there. And even though I know how important it is to you, you've never once asked that I talk with your father or your friends awaiting trial. And you shield me from your mother when she hints at it."
Draco's chest expanded with a sudden rush of love. "I am a decent catch, aren't I?"
Her lips twitched, but her throat constricted as she swallowed. "Very much so."
"On the subject of friends, we could bring them to the next launch."
Hermione stiffened in his arms, and he knew what she was thinking. So many of those she would have brought weren't here anymore to enjoy it. He recalled the Weasley twins' antics in school and knew Fred would have appreciated the rocket launch. A controlled explosion larger and more powerful than any wizard or witch could imagine.
He still saw Fred bloody, beaten and laughing on the floor.
Would George still enjoy the rocket launch alone?
Luna would have been fascinated.
He thought of his cousin bringing Teddy, forever fatherless. Or maybe his Aunt Andromeda would have to bring him if he would be motherless too, depending on how long Tonks stayed in Azkaban.
Draco's Adam's apple bobbed.
If Daphne and Vince had lived, would being exposed to Muggle science rid them of their hatred? And what of Tracey? He would never know.
Hermione turned around to gaze up at him. Her eyes were now glassy with tears, but she replied hopefully, "We could petition to have it worked in to the class. The Aurors are supposed to accompany them on outings as part of their Muggle Studies course anyway."
An excursion into the Muggle world would also enable him to see his father outside of his holding cell. Everyone associated with Voldemort's Army, even tangentially, was slated to undergo a several month long Muggle Studies course immediately, even those still awaiting trial. The Ministry was trying to punish and simultaneously reform the parts of society that supported the Dark Lord and his war.
"Do you think it'll work?" Draco asked, running his nose across her forehead. The thought of seeing his father and friends outside in the open air brightened his mood. "What the Ministry is trying to do?"
"Perhaps not right away, but with time, yes. Take the example of the International Space Station."
Lecturing him always made her feel better, and he listened patiently. Hermione briefly recounted the bloody wars fought between all these countries, with some rivalries existing for several centuries. All that death and destruction made the First and Seconding Wizarding wars seem insignificant. But while there were still grievances, these countries now worked together to push the boundaries of what was humanly possible.
And Draco and Hermione were witnessing it.
She'd told some of this to him before at the National Space Centre, but Draco didn't mind. He watched her face brighten and become increasingly expressive as she spoke.
"I never pegged you as an optimist," he replied, nuzzling her cheek.
"I never pegged you," she teased, and tenderly kissed the tip of his nose. "Period."
"Hmmm…" he replied with a smirk. "I'm not averse to it."
She grinned wider.
"You know," he said, returning his gaze to the place the rocket had disappeared. "Portkeys and Apparition would slash the cost of making these trips." He still couldn't believe the cost of the American shuttle program, and the projected cost of the International Space Station.
Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "Portkeys would be the better approach. We can't even Apparate very far on Earth, let alone to a moving target in orbit."
Draco shielded his eyes with his hand, trying to make out any hint of the rocket at the end of the smoky wisps disintegrating in the bright blue sky. "That would be some complicated Arithmancy."
"Muggles already solved the non-magical part of those equations," she replied, unable to hide her excitement. "We'd have a head start."
He looked down into her hazel eyes, bright with the endless possibility of a wide open future. Loving, encouraging, admiring, Hermione would support him in anything he wanted to do. As he would her. It was their own future to craft as they liked.
"Honestly," he said, still unbelieving that she was his and standing with him right here, right now, in this place, after all that had happened. His heart swelled with love. "The Statute of Secrecy would be the biggest impediment. Not the Arithmancy."
"Oh," she raised her eyebrows. "You want to go head to head with the Minister of Magic?"
"I'd much rather watch you do it."
Hermione had Kingsley by the balls for life. He wouldn't be blackmailed, but apparently the Slytherin had a conscience and could be guilted over certain issues. Hermione had absolutely no scruples in using that against him.
Draco's cock twitched. Hermione must have felt it, because she turned around to face him.
"What are you thinking about now?" her lips spread in a saucy grin. "Pegging?"
Draco had only just stopped Hermione from Imperiusing Kingsley after the battle. Once Draco explained that he did indeed have a pardon, and it had been available to him all along, Hermione released a half-growl, half-shriek. Rather than calming down, she was even more outraged than before. Not chancing a public incident that would put Hermione at risk with the IOC, Tonks disarmed her before she could hex him.
But it took four separate Episkey charms to fix Kingsley's nose, and even today, one and a half months later, his face still appeared misaligned.
Draco's cock grew as his blood rushed south, and he ground himself into her. Pulling Hermione in close, he kissed her, and grinned against her lips.
Anything was possible, so long as he was with her.
Hermione tilted her head up to look at him, and lowered her lids in anticipation. "Well?" she asked, her voice husky. "What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
"Your right hook. It's improved quite a lot since third year."
Next chapter: Another Muggle outing. With everyone!
Chapter end notes:
This launch actually did happen on November 20, 1998. The timeline works. J
If you are unfamiliar, the International Space Station really is a success story. Not just for the feats of science and engineering, but for the international cooperation. It's also the most expensive item in the world! Since the advent of social media, astronauts have been able to connect with the average person with ease. My daughters and I have eagerly watched videos which vary in content from the complex science experiments being performed to small details of everyday anti-gravity life, such as how to shampoo long blond hair. Lavender would approve.
.gov/mission_
The remaining launch dates after the one in November were:
December 4, 1998 – the US space shuttle launches the US component
February 7, 2001 - Destiny, the U.S. Laboratory module, becomes part of the station. Destiny continues to be the primary research laboratory for U.S. payloads.
February 7, 2008 The European Space Agency's Columbus Laboratory becomes part of the station.
March 11, 2008 The first Japanese Kibo laboratory module becomes part of the station.
I know after I post the final chapter that I'll get a bunch of new readers, but I wanted to extend a special thanks you to all of you, my very own pandemic book club, that have been with me throughout. I first started posting this story in March, and some of you read my earlier stuff too, posted last fall. Regardless of when you joined, everyone here has been so encouraging, and many times your comments and reactions, whether expressed in emojis or essays, have made me rethink the characters as each chapter went up. One comment is worth 1000 kudos to me, and this comment section right here has really been the best part of writing. It has been absolutely insane and I love all of you for it. Because of your input, I've added dialogue and extended scenes many times throughout the story. Not to belittle Bek's and slytherdor99's massive efforts in any way (they were a phenomenal alphas/betas), but I really do consider you all to be part of the alpha/beta process. I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed writing and posting chapters with all of you with me. It's been a hugely collaborative project while I learned how to write (and am still learning). J
In thanks, I'm opening up requests for the second epilogue. It's the only chapter in a long while that I didn't have written prior. I have a vague idea of what I want to do, and there are snippets of dialogue, so I'm sending out an open call. What would you like to see?
To set the scene, yes, it's a Muggle outing. I've made it possible for the entire ensemble to be there (the ones left alive anyway). The tone is comedic but with somber undertones. Someone in the comments mentioned earlier that they'd like Tonks to give a smackdown to Lucius.
I already know how I'm going to work that in.
I'm not promising to include everything, but I'll see what's possible.
We're all going to have fun in this last epilogue. Much love to you all!
