Charming

Chapter Twelve – The Next Chapter

~oOo~

Disclaimer: I don't own anything I'm writing about, more's the pity. Also, brace yourselves: really long chapter ahead! (I may have accidentally lied last time about the next chapter being short. Whoops.)

~oOo~

The next few days were a blur, somehow both exciting and quiet at the same time.

The light had faded by the time they left the cold Charms classroom on Friday, hand in hand because it seemed only logical after everything they'd admitted. They made it up to the eighth-year dorms without meeting anyone but Mrs Norris, who glared at them briefly before slinking off (presumably in search of a warm fire away from the frigid corridors). They'd lingered in the hallway outside the old painting of Merlin for a minute, unspeaking. Then Hermione had stood on the tips of her toes and kissed Draco softly. It was brief and warm and quiet and perfect, until the portrait chuckled and asked whether he ought to leave them alone for a while.

Saturday was spent in the quietest corner of the library, in the History section where other students rarely came. Two Transfiguration essays lay largely unfinished on the table while their would-be authors sat side by side against a bookshelf, their fingers intertwined as they talked in muted tones. Hermione spoke about her parents and what it was like finding out that she was a witch all those years ago. Draco spoke about his parents and what it was like now that they were both gone forever. He ended up curled against Hermione's shoulder again, but she kissed his brow and didn't mind.

On Sunday they wore their thickest fur-trimmed cloaks and walked around the Lake, gloved hands stuffed deep inside their pockets. Until Draco threw something that exploded in a cloud of white powder against Hermione's shoulder and they were screeching and running and pelting snowballs at each other. It ended in very warm kisses with very cold lips under a very snowy tree, which would have unburdened itself on top of them if it wasn't for a well-timed push from Draco that landed them in the next snowdrift. Hermione laughed and asked how falling in the snow was any better than being covered in it; Draco just smiled, shrugged and kissed her again.

~oOo~

Monday brought an end to the dreamlike haze that encompassed the weekend. Suddenly there were classes to attend and secrets to keep.

Harry and Ron complained Hermione hadn't helped them with their Transfiguration essay at all; she replied smartly that she had better things to do than babysit them in their N.E.W.T. year. Draco got no questions from anyone, and sat at the back of the class as though nothing had changed. He had just resigned himself to a joyless and solitary day when Hermione shot him a small smile behind her friends' backs. They would have been shocked at his answering grin.

It was clear from the beginning that their newfound trust and... well, whatever else it was, should remain secret. Neither of them felt prepared to face the scrutiny and inevitable disapproval of the rest of the school – much less that of close friends, in Hermione's case – especially in the fragile first weeks after Draco's confessions in the Charms classroom.

Ginny was the only one to raise her eyebrows when Hermione said she was going to the library at 9 o' clock in the evening for the third time in a week; Harry and Ron were too busy applying themselves to their study to notice or care. Hermione still refused to give them anything but minimal help, and looked over their homework only occasionally.

To be fair, they're doing quite well without me, she mused on her way out the portrait hole. Maybe I've been babying them too much in the past. Instead of going to the library, she directed her steps to the fourth floor, where she knew a certain quiet blonde boy was waiting for her.

They'd taken to meeting after dinner in deserted rooms, where they'd spend several hours huddled in front of roaring fireplaces, talking, laughing, doing their homework together... and kissing. They would often sit together past midnight doing one or several of these things, until one of them would come to the realisation that it was very, very past curfew. Then they'd sneak back to their tower on tip-toes, sometimes breaking into a run if they thought they'd heard Filch or Mrs Norris.

The truth of it was, they enjoyed each other's company. The only thing they never talked about was their relationship, and what exactly it was. It felt safer not to label it, as though it was too fragile to bear a title.

~oOo~

A few weeks later, it was Christmas Eve. The feast had ended about an hour since, and most students were socialising in their commonrooms. Hermione, however, was not.

She was waiting somewhat impatiently in an alcove on the fifth floor, not too far from their dorms in the West Tower, which she'd surreptitiously escaped almost half an hour ago. While the corridors ought to be fairly safe on account of almost everyone enjoying Christmastime festivities together with their friends, that same fact also made it very difficult to get out into the corridors in the first place.

It was another ten minutes before Hermione heard footsteps, but then Draco squeezed into the alcove beside her and wrapped her in his arms, and she had no choice but to let her annoyance fall away.

"You took a while," she murmured against his chest.

"I know," he replied ruefully. "Potter and Weas— sorry, Harry and Ginny – left a quarter of an hour after you to get sweets from the kitchens. I had to wait longer after that, it would have looked suspicious. Come on..."

He extracted himself from the cramped niche with some difficulty. Hermione followed, and he took her hand as they headed down the corridor.

He sighed. "So where would you like to go? I thought we could have gotten something hot from the kitchens, but if we're going to run into—" He broke off as Hermione put her hand on his chest. "What—?"

"Look up."

They'd stopped by a high arched window, snowflakes falling thick and fast beyond the cold glass panes. And there, growing magically from the stone arch and spreading across the ceiling, was a tangled bunch of green leaves and red berries.

"Mistletoe," he smiled. "The regular kind this time!"

"Makes a nice change, doesn't it?" she laughed back at him.

Draco chuckled and reached his arms around her waist. Brown eyes met grey and Draco took a moment to savour just how lucky he was. I still can't believe I really have her, he thought. Just a few months ago I'd never have believed anyone could ever stand being around me again. Now... This is the happiest I've been since I started school. Since I can remember.

"Hermione," he said quietly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smiled and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could—

"—I love you."

There was a moment's silence and Draco's heart sank into the region of his stomach. Oh Salazar, I've said it too soon – I've made a complete hash of it – why did I have to open my stupid mouth and just blurt it at her, I should have—

"I love you too, Draco."

She said it so simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world, though there was a slightly breathless note in her voice that perhaps said otherwise. Draco's heart rocketed back to its usual position and did its best to swell out of his chest. He let out an involuntary half-laugh of relief before pulling her closer and kissing her soundly. It feels good to know you're in love.

They stood there for several long moments in the middle of the corridor, wrapped in each other's embrace under the mistletoe, their lips speaking with more than words.

And that was how Harry and Ginny found them.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Harry's voice echoed through the corridor, and Hermione and Draco sprung apart as though electrocuted.

"It – it was the – the Mistletoe Charm!" gasped Draco, looking suddenly very pale. The joy that had filled him just moments before had disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving blind fear and panic in its place.

"Forgive me if I don't believe you, Malfoy," Harry snarled sarcastically. His wand was drawn and pointing at the other boy's chest. "I didn't see the telltale sparkling mistletoe, so try again."

"It – it had just vanished!" Draco spluttered.

"Oh yeah?" said Harry angrily. "It looked like more than a quick curse-breaking peck to me! What kind of hex have you hit Hermione with?"

"Oh, Harry!" cried Ginny from just behind him. She was grinning all over her face and looked as though she might combust from happiness any moment. "Isn't it obvious what's going on?"

"No," replied Harry menacingly, "but I was hoping Malfoy was about to fill me in."

"I highly doubt he'd tell you now, knowing you're ready to jinx him," Ginny said in exasperation. "Haven't you been wondering why Hermione's never around after dinner anymore? They're together, can't you tell?"

Harry blinked. "Are you mad? Malfoy must have cursed you too!"

"What does it matter if they're in love, Harry?" gushed Ginny, still smiling. "Isn't a little more love in the world a good thing after everything we've all been through?"

Hermione had remained silent so far, but spoke up then. "Harry... doesn't Ginny maybe have a point?" she said quietly. "What if we are in love?"

"You've been hexed. He's done something to you, you're not acting normal. You don't know what you're saying!"

"I have not been hexed, I know almost every counter-curse in the book!" Hermione cried. She took Draco's hand and gave a small smile. "If anything, I've been charmed."

Ginny made a small squeal of appreciation but fell silent under Harry's stare. "Hermione," he said, "listen to what you're telling me—"

"I wish you'd listen!" she burst out. "I didn't want to tell you like this, I knew this would be your reaction! Please believe me when I say I am in love with Draco. Your disbelief won't change anything, so can you please just accept that this is the truth?" She was still holding Draco's hand tightly and here was a determined fire blazing in her eyes as she accosted her friend.

"But – but – it's Malfoy!" Harry suddenly seemed less sure that Hermione was indeed under the influence of a spell.

"So?" spoke Ginny. "It's Hermione, too – doesn't her happiness count for anything?"

"Yes – but – he's –" Harry struggled. "This is Malfoy we're talking about. The same person that's been my enemy since first year! He tried to kill Dumbledore – he's a Death Eater!"

Hermione interjected swiftly. "He was, but not anymore. Draco's been through as much as any of us have, Harry. He's just as human as you are! Isn't he allowed to learn from his mistakes and move on?"

Harry was spluttering a little incoherently by now. "Hermione – think – think of all the times he's been horrible to us in school, hexed us and – in third year you slapped him and—"

"—called me a foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach, I know." Draco spoke for the first time in minutes. His voice was quiet but steady. "I remember it well. Listen—" he cleared his throat "—as – as cliché as it sounds, I've... I've seen the error of my ways, and – I just want to live a normal life from now on, like everyone else. Is that so bad?"

"When was the last time Draco was 'horrible' to you, Harry?" Hermione added. "Has he even spoken to you since the start of this year?" She paused significantly before going on, "It's just old prejudices, that's all. You just refuse to see that Draco's not as bad as you think."

"I did kind of assume that some things were set in stone, yeah," said Harry unsteadily. "Like Malfoy being an evil Slytherin bastard forever, for one." There were a few seconds' silence in which everyone looked at him. "We're going to have some serious words about this, Hermione," he said gravely. Then he turned and marched off in the direction of the eighth-year dorms.

Hermione watched him go with trepidation, while Draco stood beside her looking very pale indeed.

Ginny, of course, didn't miss a beat. "Don't worry, he'll come around," she said confidently. "He just needs some time to get used to the idea that your new boyfriend could be a decent person after all."

Hermione regarded her with an expression of concern. She wasn't so sure. "What about Ron?" she asked worriedly.

"Well," replied Ginny, her smile slipping a little. "There is that. I might just head Harry off, try to catch up with him before he can, ah—"

"Drop the bombshell?" Draco offered blackly.

"...introduce the subject in a less-than-delicate way," finished Ginny carefully. "Don't go worrying, though," she added sternly. "I'm sure that even Ron can be made to see the light." She smiled at them both before directing her gaze at Hermione. "If anyone can convince him, it's probably me. I think I saw the good in him before you did."

And she began to jog away. She made it almost to the staircase before Hermione called out, "Wait, Ginny! Was it you with the suits of armour and the Mistletoe Charm? Outside the old Charms classroom a few weeks ago?"

The redhead only grinned at her and launched herself up the stairs.

"It was, wasn't it!" Hermione called after her. She turned to Draco, shaking her head. "Honestly."

"I think we need to talk to her about a few things," muttered the blonde.

"I think we'll probably be doing a lot of talking in the next few days," agreed Hermione somewhat grimly. "This isn't how I had it planned at all."

"You had plans about telling Potter you're spending time with a reformed Death Eater?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione laughed. "What, did you think I was going to take the secret with me to the grave?"

He smiled ruefully back and she continued, "Draco, I want to be able to hold your hand in public. I want to be able to kiss you where people can see. I didn't think it would happen this soon, but I want to be with you in the open. Loving you isn't illegal, and I don't want to treat it that way."

Draco only stared at her for a minute before muttering, "You're mad. You are utterly mad and I love you." Then he laughed and kissed her, hard.

"Well," he said breathlessly once they'd come up for air, "the coast should be clear now. Do you still want hot chocolate from the kitchens? I don't really want to go back to the West Tower at the moment."

Hermione blushed at the mention of that particular beverage, though of course Draco didn't know about the details of her daydreams. "Only if they have marshmallows in them," she answered with a smile, and led the way.

~oOo~

It was never going to be easy. They knew that and accepted it. Years later there were still people that wouldn't talk to them, but that was okay. The important ones got used to things after a few months, and the rest didn't matter.

It was never going to be perfect. They knew that and accepted it too. Draco still cried sometimes, but Hermione would sit with his head in her lap and stroke his hair and tell him that no, he was not worthless. It got better with time.

They didn't know whether or not they were going to get a fairytale ending. Nobody did. But they went on living and loving and hoping and dreaming. They dealt with the hurdles as best they could, and that was enough.

This is the story of how things got better after the war; the story of how what was broken began to heal.

This is the beginning of the next chapter.

~oOo~

Author's Note: Aaand, curtains! That's it, folks. The ending you've been waiting for, for over two and a half years. I started this story on January 16th, 2010, and I'd like to think I've come a fair way since then. It's been a great ride!

To my fans and my wonderful reviewers: thank you. For sticking with me, for your feedback and for your love of the Harry Potter fandom. I hope you all enjoyed my writing, and I hope you think Hermione and Draco got the ending they deserved.

THANK YOU, READERS. KEEP BEING WONDERFUL! :)