Chapter 11: Distance

It had been two weeks since Draco had confessed how he felt to Granger. Two painfully long, agonizingly quiet weeks. After she had left the library with Weaselette, Draco had remained up, waiting for Granger to get back to their dorm. He had wanted to know what she wanted to talk about. Part of him had been convinced she was going to tell him the past couple of months had been a mistake, but there was a small part of him, a hopeful part of him that still clung to the chance she may reciprocate his feelings. After midnight when he still hadn't heard her come in. Eventually he had drifted off to sleep. When the sun began shining into his bed chamber, he had woken up, immediately concerned with her whereabouts.

He had begun making a list of all the reasons why she would have stayed out so late, starting with the most ridiculous one his sleep-deprived brain could think up: She had dropped out and gone off to marry Weasley. Doubtful. Granger would never leave schoolwork unfinished, especially being Head Girl. He had also considered the fact that she was too embarrassed to speak to him, so she had remained out until she suspected he had gone to bed. Dubbing that the most realistic of his current options, he had gotten dressed and headed down to the Great Hall. He had spotted the Head Girl pacing outside the doors.

Granger had looked rather disheveled. Her eyes had been rimmed red, a clear indication she hadn't slept well either. He had contemplated trying to convince the Headmistress to let them both off for the day due to a contagious sickness. His self-serving intention in that being that he wanted them to pick up where they left off in the library the night before. Without the distraction of classes, friends, or Head duties they could have a real conversation. Perhaps that real conversation would lead to more meaningful matters.

It had not.

She had apologized for using him after the break-up with Weasley and then had proceeded to ask him to take a break from their one on one lessons. He hadn't been expecting that. Both statements had caught him off guard. Regardless of how things were between them, he had not seen a reason for them to stop meeting. Granger had always been concerned about her grades. It was her top priority. He was baffled by her choice to halt the sessions. Still, out of respect for her and somewhat selfish hope for himself, he agreed to her wishes.

The tension between them had grown since that moment. Being the top two students of their year and the Heads, they were often together for rounds, planning meetings, and partnered up for various assignments. That was when they spoke. It was often short dialogue, centered around the topic at hand with a passing comment on the weather or how the patrol scheduled had been shifted to accommodate the approaching holidays. One morning in Herbology, Granger had asked him how he was, while reaching for a pruning shear. He almost gave himself whiplash in order to give her his undivided attention, but when he turned to reply, she already had her nose buried in the class text. His words died in his throat and he proceeded without responding.

Later that same week, they both found themselves in the library studying. Without meaning to, he had followed her into the section on Ancient Runes. They had both busied themselves searching for their respective texts, working hard to ignore one another. Draco had felt heat work its way all up his body. He had had luck in the past with using his charm and physical traits to get him what he wanted. Surprising a witch with a strong kiss usually got him the desired result. However, he was positive that would earn him a bat-boogey hex from Weaselette and another punch from Granger, so he kept his desires to himself. Watching her move through the enclosed space made him remember how he had wanted to push her up against those shelves and snog her senseless. He still did. Talking or not talking. Friends or not, he still wanted her. His feelings remained unwavering as the days went by. He briefly wondered if she felt it too.

As he had moved to leave the aisle, she had been trying to sneak past him unnoticed. They collided, causing them both to jump apart at the shock of touching each other for the first time in over a week. Granger had been the first to speak.

"I'm sorry."

"No, it was my fault," he had quickly stated.

There was hesitation in both of their eyes, as they tried to avoid the sudden awkwardness between them. He noticed she was chewing on her lower lip. She appeared to be fighting herself on something, internally battling over a decision. When she began to reach out towards him, he felt his hand flinch in her direction, eager for the contact. As swiftly as she had started to come forward, she backed up, nearly scrapping the back of her legs on the bookshelf behind her. There was another elongated pause as the tension resume.

"How is Muggle Studies?" she finally asked.

"Good. How is Flying?"

"Good."

His whole body thrummed with a deep need to be with her. He missed her laughter, missed having someone to talk to, missed having an excuse to brush hands with her or hold onto her. The longer they remained in this unlabeled state, the harder it was for him to deny his attraction for her. He felt as if he was constantly being pulled in her direction. No matter where they were, classes, the Great Hall, rounds - he always knew where she was, what she was wearing, how she had done her hair that day. No detail went unnoticed, no movement, not matter how minute, went examined. He had never felt this way before. He had never been obsessed. He felt as if he was going mad with want.

The kiss they had shared in the library, brief as it was, had unlocked something inside of him. Draco's emotions had already been borderline erratic. The instant their lips met, he had felt the tether cement around his heart. He was connected to her. Whether she felt the same was irrelevant. He was hers.

"I should be getting back," she said, lowering her eyes to the floor.

"Yeah," he heard himself respond, "Me too." His voice sounded as if he was one hundred miles away, as if he was watching someone else's life play out before his eyes - a person who was unable to have the girl he wanted.

"What is wrong with you?" Ginny asked.

Hermione felt her friend watching her, as she had done for the past two weeks at every meal. Ginny and Romilda had been annoyingly attentive since she had walked out on them in the Gryffindor Tower. Harry had written more frequently as well, though Ron continued to ignore her. Their constant contact and conversation should have warmed her. After all, it was what she had felt she was missing all semester. Unfortunately, it did little to dull the pain of Malfoy's absence.

She had grown used to their banter. Having studied alone her entire life, it was nice to find someone who shared her level of interest on multiple subjects. It was especially nice to have someone who was as driven and internally motivated as he was. He was challenging, but in a way that caused her to rise to the occasion. She was better at flying because of him. Their class rivalry kept her on her toes, pushing her to achieve better results and delve deeper into her subjects. He made her better. And she missed him.

The affect of his absence must have been illustrated on her face, because Romilda scoffed. "Honestly," she started, "It's not like you two snogged or anything." Hermione felt her face turn three shades of red. "Right?" Romilda pressed, immediately noticing the color. Her fork dropped with a loud clang, as she turned on the bench to face the Head Girl.

"Hermione Jean Granger," Ginny hissed between her teeth, her hand latching around Hermione's arm. She yanked her friend towards her, whispering in her ear. "I am only going to ask this once. Did you or did you not snog Draco Malfoy?" Hermione nodded. Ginny was down-right terrifying when she wanted to be. "When?" Ginny's grip tightened around her arm.

"In the library."

The red-headed witch paused for a moment, then her grip loosened until Hermione's arm fell out of her reach. "No," Ginny began shaking her head, as the realization came to her. "When I walked up to you two?" Hermione nodded again. Ginny's indignation vanished. "Hermione," she began, reaching for her again. Her voice had softened considerably. She was sending off a strong pity vibe that repulsed Hermione. She didn't want to be pitied. She didn't need anyone feeling bad for her.

"It's fine, Gin."

"Like hell it is," Romilda snapped.

"It was stupid of me."

"If it was so stupid, why do you care so much?" Ginny pointed out.

"I don't," Hermione stated quickly. Too quickly.

Ginny and Romilda both rolled their eyes. "We have to teach you to lie better."

Hermione sighed, barely hearing them as they got into another round of 'how-to-help-Hermione'. She risked sneaking a peak across the Great Hall to the Slytherin table where Malfoy was seated at the end. He had his head down, hunched over his food, as he normally did these days. She sighed again, feeling a pressure in her chest. As the days went by, sluggishly, they reminded her of the friend she had lost more and more. She thought of Rita less and less. The article seemed to have carried no weight with either the Ministry or those at Hogwarts, for which she was thankful. However the only person's opinion she cared about was the blonde across the room.

Having fought in the war and been tortured by a Death Eater, Hermione feared very little. Still, she couldn't get up the courage to confront Malfoy about the article. She was terrified of the truth. It was a fifty-fifty shot. Either it bothered him or it didn't. It should have been easy to ask him. They had talked about far more controversial subjects over the last few months. None of those compared to what she needed to ask him now. Perhaps part of her dread stemmed from the fact that his parents were still unreachable and more than likely not pleased with the results of the article. Even if the majority of the wizarding world didn't have stock in Rita's words, the Prophet was still read. Falsehoods or not, Hermione couldn't imagine a world where Lucius Malfoy would approve of her spending time with his only son.

As if sensing her gaze, Draco glanced up. Their eyes locked across the room. Hermione froze. His gaze was so intense, so filled with all that remained unsaid between them. She unconsciously touched her fingers to her lips, recalling the sensation of him against her mouth. Merlin, he had stolen away her breath with that kiss. It had been quick. Brevity aside, she had felt more from that singular moment when they joined together than she had in the last year with Ron. And that proved to her what Ginny had said before: She did care.

She cared more than she was willing to admit to anyone, including herself. It had been building. She had felt it building over the last few months. The animosity had developed into companions, into friendship, and finally into-

Love.

She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, dropping her fingers away from her face, at the thought of the word. It was startling. Yet, there it was, as true as the desire she saw reflected in his eyes as he remained locked in her gaze.

What had she done?

The screaming pierced through the night. Draco heard the terribly tortured cries of agony and sat up, awake, with beads of sweat on his brow. He looked around him, realizing he was within his chambers at Hogwarts. He wasn't at the Manor. The Dark Lord was dead. His father was under constant guard. The war was over. He needed to remind himself of those facts daily. The screaming had all been in his head. The nightmares came often. The frequency never made them less painful or realistic. Closing his eyes, he laid back down, attempting to push it from his mind in order to get some rest.

Another scream rung out. Draco realized with dread that this time the sound was not in his head. He jumped out of bed, grabbing his wand. His first concern was Hogwarts being attacked. He knew there were still some Dark Lord supporters on the loose. If they were radical to the level of his Aunt Bellatrix, he could see them launching an assault on the historical institution. It would certainly make the papers. The sound echoed through the chamber and he ran out.

The wailing was coming from Granger's room. He reached her door, cursing when he discovered she had locking charms in place. The shrieking became louder and he muttered incantations until the door swung open. Draco frantically searched the room for an intruder. Though it was dark, he didn't see a soul. No one was there. He crossed the room where he found her in bed.

She was writhing about, limbs twitching in unnatural positions. He gripped her upper arms, raising her off her mattress and shaking her back and forth gently. Her breathing was ragged. He could feel her pulse was rapid and her skin was hot to the touch.

"Granger! Granger! Wake up!"

His shouting paired with his touch forced her out of the nightmare. Her eyes opened, unfocused at first. Immediately, she began beating her fists against his chest and kicking out her legs. He held onto her wrists to stop her, but winced when she landed a kick against his shin.

"Damn it, Granger! Granger, knock it off, it's me!"

As the post-dream haze lifted, her eyes centered on his face and her breathing slowed down.

"It was a dream. It wasn't real."

"Malfoy?"

Granger was staring up at him, searching his face, as if trying to determine whether or not he was really here. Then, she glanced down to where his hands were still wrapped around her wrists.

He released her instantly, taking a step back. "You were screaming."

She sat there in silence, not looking at him. He could tell she was remembering what had caused her cries. She bit back her lip, as if she was contemplating something internally. Her hands balled up into fists in her lap, then released. He noticed how her skin was rippled with Goosebumps. He figured she had to be cold. In all the commotion, Granger's sheets had fallen from her to reveal she had been sleeping in her bra and panties.

Draco wouldn't have pegged her for the type. Being as uptight as she was, he assumed she slept in pajamas. Seeing her smooth skin encased in the matching set made him rethink that. In spite of himself and the situation, he found himself scanning her up and down. The soft curves of her body caused something within him to twist. He felt a heat spreading throughout his body as he took her in. Her ample breasts were heavy up and down, as she tried to control her breathing. Her flat stomach led to her lower half, where he noted her hip bones were sticking out slightly before they came to the edge of her bikini cut underwear. He licked his lips, reminding himself to breathe.

"Thank you. I'm sorry I woke you."

Her voice halted his look over. He needed to get out of her room and away from her before she noticed how he was staring at her. She wasn't a meal. She was Hermione Granger, for Merlin's sake. If she saw the lustful hunger in his eyes right now, she would surely hex him into oblivion. Perhaps that was what he needed. She could put him out of his misery right here and right now. It would be far better than the awkward limbo they had been stuck in the past two weeks.

He gave her a curt nod and began to walk out, when a thought occurred to him. He didn't have to be the only one lusting after their roommate. He had seen the way she was looking at him at dinner this evening. She had even touched her mouth. It had been increasingly difficult to sit there after that. He had needed several minutes to clear his mind before he could safely leave the table. Still, it could work to his advantage now. After all, there was no better way to forget a nightmare than by replacing it with a fantasy. Perhaps it was the tension finally getting the best of him, or perhaps he truly did have a death wish. Either way, he decided to go for it. He stalled in the doorway.

"Nice lace." Even in the dark, he could see the color that rose to her cheeks. She instantly pulled the sheets up around herself. Draco smirked. "And black too." He let out a whistle.

He couldn't help himself. They hadn't bantered in their normal competitive way in weeks. This time he was going to win in their little back and forth baiting game. If he was going to win, he was going to win big. He would go down in the flames of glory...though he hoped not literal flames, if Granger took it badly. Then again, if there was one thing Draco Malfoy was good at, it was being a charmer. He hadn't been coined the Prince of Slytherin for just picking on Gryffindors. Seduction was practically his hobby before the war. He could undoubtedly fluster Granger. Knowing Potter and Weasel, they had never even told her she was pretty. Risque compliments would definitely get her.

"I could say the same for you," she retorted suddenly, surprising him. Though her voice wavered a bit, she didn't break eye contact with him. "Nice boxers. Satin?"

He chuckled, turning in her direction to lean against the door frame. Oh, you want to play little girl? Let's play, he thought with a satisfied grin. He was rather pleased she had supplied him with a retort. "Not sure. You could come over here to check, if you want." For added effect, he ran his thumb along the inside of the boxer's hem.

She didn't respond.

"Maybe another time, then." He turned to leave, pausing as he closed the door half way.

"Anything else?"

"Yeah," he purred. "I don't lock my door, in case you ever feel the need to barge into my bedroom. Open invitation, Granger."

The color on her cheeks deepened at his suggestion. She dropped her gaze, focused on her crimson sheets. She had no come back and he knew he had won this round. He walked out, leaving it at that. He was finally going to get the last word in with the witch. All of his plans had backfired on him when it came to her, but not this time. This time he had managed to make her speechless, as predicted. It was so much more satisfying than angering her. That look on her face had been worth it. At the very least, he had distracted her from her fear of the nightmare. Perhaps now she could resume her rest.

Let her think about that while she goes to sleep, he thought smugly.

"Draco?" He halted at the proximity of her voice. Suddenly, she was standing next to him. "Could you...would you maybe...stay with me tonight?" Her voice had lost all confidence. There was no more teasing, no more joking. He noticed how her hands shook ever so slightly. She couldn't look at him. Her eyes were focused on the floor, and as she struggled to still her hands, she started to twist them together nervously in front of her. Even in her disheveled state she was beautiful. Instantly, he regretted provoking her. Part of him had done it to get her mind off of her fear, the other part had done it because he wanted her. Neither was a good enough reason, he decided, as he realized just how terrified she was.

"Come here," he pulled her in a hug. Her skin was cold to the touch and covered in Goosebumps. She gave a little shake. "You're shivering." She nodded, burying her face in his chest. "Let's get you back under the covers." He led her back to bed, allowing her scoot over to make room for him. He tugged the covers up around them both, savoring the moment when she snuggled up against him, laying an over over him. She didn't flinch when he wrapped his arms around her. Instead, she nestled her head on his chest.

"Can we be friends again?" she asked.

"We were always friends."

She was silent for a minute. Then, she shifted to look up at him, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Granger." She gave a little smile and resumed her prior position.

"Did I scare you away in the library?" he asked, holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

"No." She sounded surprised to hear him question it. "I thought you were upset with me."

"Why would I be upset with you?"

"Because of the article."

"Article?"

"The one Rita Skeeter wrote about me."

Draco vaguely recalled Astoria trying to get him to read something in the Prophet. She may or may not have mentioned it had something to do with Hermione, but Draco hadn't been paying attention. He had been so focused on his pain, on how to get back into the Head Girl's good graces that he had overlooked perhaps the one thing that would have cleared up the entire incident.

"What did she say?"

"You didn't read it?"

"Should I have?"

"I thought it would upset you...and your parents."

She filled him in on the highlights. Though he felt for her, hearing the rubbish the author had published, he also felt relief. It had never been about his confession. It had never been about how he felt for her. Over the last two weeks, he had been worried he had hurt her too much, cut her too deeply in the past. He had never considered she would feel the same way in regards to him. Hearing her speak about it now was almost comical. She was oblivious to how defeated he had been. She had been too concerned about how the article would affect their relationship and his relationship with his parents, because she knew how much they meant to him. That was Hermione. She was always worried about others, always trying to help everyone else.

"I don't care what she wrote," he told her, giving her a squeeze. "I stand by what I said in the library. I want you to be mine."

"Even if they label you my next victim."

"I'd be happy to serve," he smirked.

Hermione was quiet for some time. He could feel her mulling over his words. Concerned she might over think things, he opted to return to his jokes. Teasing her was common ground, comfortable territory for the both of them.

"That was smooth, you know," he told her. "Anything to get me in bed with you, huh?" She jabbed him. "Ow!" She laughed. It was a real laugh. Her body had stopped shaking and there was a smile on her face. He took it as a good sign. Maybe he hadn't been wrong to tease her. It suddenly seemed to be working. "I couldn't have planned it better myself."

"Who said I didn't plan it?" He glanced down to see a coy smile played on her lips. Maybe his teasing wasn't working as well as he thought. She seemed to be catching on rather quickly. Once again, he had underestimated Granger. If she kept this up, he wasn't sure how he was going to keep himself off of her. He could feel his arousal starting up again. He tried to imagine Filch skinny-dipping in the Black Lake. Anything to still his lecherous thoughts. He didn't want to give Granger a reason to shoo him out of her room.

Then he saw her staring at her arm. She hadn't bared her mark to anyone. He was fairly certain the only reason he had seen it was because he had been there when she received it. That had not been one of his finer moments. Now, laying next to her, he could see the detail clearly. The red scars had healed over somewhat, but the word was still legible. He understood why she would be uneasy about allowing others to see it. He was self-concious about the Dark Mark and he had had a say in that. She had not been given a chance before she was branded.

"It doesn't mean anything," he said, softly.

She scooted up, so she was seated, reaching over to take his arm in her hands gently. Carefully, she rotated it over, revealing his Dark Mark. He sucked in a breath of air, as her fingers traced over the winding serpent. "It doesn't," she agreed. Her voice was strong. It had it's normal 'no-nonsense' attitude. "This isn't who you are." She lowered her eyes to meet his. "You never were that person, Draco."

The sincerity of her words hit him. He had been holding his breath, watching her examine the mark, waiting for her to recoil or ask him to leave. He had half-expected her to flinch when he mentioned her wound. She had only showed him before out of spite and to make a point. This time was different, this time she was baring more than flesh to him. She was showing him her, the raw, torn-down, Hermione Granger. And she was even more beautiful than he had ever imagined.

He sat up, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her over his left leg to sit in front of him. He enveloped her in a hug, needing to hold onto her. He felt as if he was about to break. All other impulses faded into the background. The simple truth was he loved her. It was a foreign concept, but there it was. He had been fighting it for years, he knew, but now there was no where to run, no where to hide. The woman in his arms was a warrior, a braniac, a complete train-wreck at times and he loved her completely. She was all he wanted in the world, the only person he would ever need to get through the day. It all came down to one word.

Love.

Draco was hers. He had been hers longer than he realized. And now she was his.

She slipped back down to her original position, resting her head against his chest. "Goodnight, Malfoy.

He kissed the top of her head, allowing one hand to nest in her hair, playing with it lightly, while the other began rubbing her back. "Night, Granger."

After several minutes, her breathing slowed and she had fallen asleep. Draco remained up for a few minutes, his mind filled with thoughts of the witch in his arms, but soon he too succumbed to sleep.

Hermione woke to a warmth radiating from behind her. She slowly opened her eyes, glancing down her body to where Malfoy's hand was cupped around her hip bone. She had rolled over onto her left side at some point in the night and he had moved to stay tucked alongside her. Once again, he had kept to his word. He had only slept with her all through the night. And her nightmares had not returned.

Realizing she was still in only her bra and panties, she slipped out from under his arm to get dressed. She shuffled into her bathroom, careful to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake him. They had used the word 'friends' last night. Hermione thought they were anything but. After weeks of building tension, they had finally gotten back to a place where they were comfortable being together. She realized how comfortable it was when she had spent the entire night in his arms without any panic or uncertainty. No, she had found only compassion from him, with a few snarky side comments in true Malfoy form.

Even those comments though were consoling. She knew that while there was underlying truth in his taunts, his goal had been to keep her mind on easier, happier things and away from the terror that had been inflicted on her flesh over a year ago. The old Draco Malfoy wouldn't have cared if she was crying in her bed, having nightmares, let alone come to check on her. This man, this wizard in her bed, was altered. He had grown beyond the scared bully she had been confronted with years before. She finished dressing and exited the bathroom.

"Morning," he greeted her, laying half-covered in her bed. He had his head propped up with one arm, the other playing with the edge of his boxers.

"You look like you belong on the front of PlayWitch," she commented, quickly turning to her wardrobe to shield her face. She began rummaging around searching for her tie.

"And how does the Head Girl know what PlayWitch looks like, might I ask?"

"Contrary to what people think about me, Malfoy, I do not only ready for academic purposes." She found her tie, straightening up so she could use the mirror to put it on. "I also read for pleasure."

"Really?" His velvety voice purred from directly behind her. She jumped slightly, her breath hitching in her throat. "I thought you weren't afraid of me, Granger?"

"I-I'm not."

"Allow me." He took the tie out of her hands. He stepped closer, as he looped it around her neck, fastening it in its proper place. "There. All ready for the day."

"Thank you."

"Hmm," he ran a single finger down her cheek. "See you at breakfast."

He leaned forward, planting a kiss at the edge of her mouth. Hermione watched him saunter out of her room. Her body was still buzzing with electricity. It erupted across her flesh, like flames licking at the starter wood chips for a bonfire. She couldn't deny her attraction to Malfoy had been growing. Until the library, she hadn't been sure he felt the same.

She was conflicted. Though her relationship with Ron had been deteriorating before she had returned to Hogwarts, she felt guilty. Her attraction to Ron had grown over the years, mostly due to their constant presence in each other's lives. What she was experiencing now was different. It was hard to believe. She felt as if the last two weeks had been nothing but painful longing for her relationship with Draco and guilt over the longing for that relationship. It was a wonder she could still feel guilty. Hermione had spent time with Malfoy, but it was a matter of months versus a matter of years and her feelings for him felt stronger somehow, as if they had been building for longer and were now threatening to overthrow all other sensible thought in her mind.

Sensible or not, he did have a hold on her. Asking to be friends was when the door had opened to a greater possibility. This is crazy, she thought, as she put her Mary Janes on. There's no future for us. Despite her belief in Kingsley's campaign platform, she knew the entire Wizarding World would not approve of a Pureblood and Muggleborn relationship. If that wasn't enough of a deterrent, there was also the issue of Malfoy's parents. She could only imagine how Lucius Malfoy would react. His son, a DeathEater and a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, involved with a Muggle-born witch and a Gryffindor no less. He might have a stroke at the very thought of it. Narcissa Malfoy was a tricky one. After Harry had shared with Hermione what Narcissa had done, the young witch was unsure how the mother would react.

And how would her own family react? Granted, her parents were not around to pass judement, but she had her self-made family: Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Ron was Ron. He would overreact. It was his nature. His overreaction was certain to spur other reactions, namely Mrs. Weasley. Harry was hard to determine how he would handle the news. He had an open mind regarding who people were versus what they were. Andromeda Tonks had been part of that change. She may looked like her murderous sister, but she was one of the most caring and kind-hearted witches they had ever met. Considering his past history with Draco though, Harry would be a hard sell. Hermione thought Ginny was the best place to start.

Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself to update her best friend over breakfast.

A/N: This chapter was a struggle to write. I've rewritten it about three times now. And I'm not 100% pleased with it, but I wanted to post it and move forward with the story. In other news, I have to give a shout-out to lasvegasskye for her awesome new Instagram: dramioneismyotp. She has done dramione edits for her stories and is now doing edits for the posted chapters of "Then & Now." Check it out!

amy816 - Thanks, Amy. I think it would be interesting if J.K. ever wrote the books from the other character's perspectives. We only see the story through Harry's eyes. There is so much left unsaid or that he was unaware of at times.
Rayah19 -I appreciate your feedback on how I wrote Draco. I found a bit of myself in him with his struggles...not that I ever attempted to kill my headmaster or anything...metaphorically.
AsMomma -Thank you for the review. I enjoyed writing the last chapter far more than I thought I would. This one was far more challenging.
ZoeyOlivia - There had to be angst. It couldn't be too easy for them.
caprubia - I used to have my own mental image of all the characters but now I've seen the movie versions so often I can't help it.
priestessofeternity - This is only Part 1 of the story. Part 2 "Now" will be about what happens after "19 Years Later" from the books.
stacyyyy - They will be together soon. I promise.
pgoodrichboggs - Well we all know that Rita Skeeter is actually J.K. Rowling...kidding, kidding. I saw a meme about that somewhere.
Hedigisalive - Glad you feel it is authentic. I am trying to keep them in character.
lasvegasskye - Thank you for your lovely edits! I really love the pictures you've been using and which quotes you've been pulling.
Sage McMae - I would like to get rid of Rita, but I need to keep her around for a bit longer...mwahhahahaha!
Crayola91 - Agreed. I'm all about Dramione...not Harmione or Romione.
remythehuman - I'm not a Ron fan either. I don't understand Romione at all, but to each their own. I don't hate on other people's ships.
AnnaOxford - Thank you. Strange as it is, it was easier for me to write out Draco than it was for me to write out Hermione on the last chapter.