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It was perfect; they were perfect. It was a fairytale but there was no happily ever after. The war started and they were torn apart. They tried to see each other whenever they could but one night she had left him; without saying goodbye and without giving any explanation. She left a note. She wrote the note in English, trying to distance herself from what was theirs, no doubt.

Draco,

I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore. My friends need me now and your mother needs you to protect her. There's no way we can continue this. It's for the best. Please understand,

Hermione.

She had cried as she left. She cried after she left. She still cried. But she had learned to bury her feelings. And when Ron had confessed his love for her, after the war had ended, she had seen it as an opportunity. He was a good man, a kind one too. He wasn't him. But Ron could make her happy; he already had. Her scars had started to heal. They would never be gone completely but she could sleep through the night now, peacefully and without waking up in the middle of the night in a pool of sweat and regretting ever having left his side. Well, most of the time, at least.

And now he was here, at her and Ron's engagement party. He wanted to see her. That had to be the reason he was here, right? But…did she want to see him? It had taken a long time to get over him and, really, was dragging up the past again going to help either of them? She 

sighed. Perhaps he needed closure but what she really needed was to forget. At least that's what she hoped he wanted.

Maybe he wanted revenge. She had hurt him so now he was here to hurt her. Was that it? Was that the reason he had come?

She had to find out. The only way to do so would be to the lake and see him. Face to face. Only a short distance would be between them. But she could control herself. She had endured the tragedy of losing him. She was happy now.

She followed the path to the lake. Her mind was racing. He would be there. And right then it didn't matter about anyone else in the world. He was there, waiting for her. But she forced that thought from her head. Ron still existed and so did her family and friends. She wouldn't have been able to get through this without them.

She was anxious as she wandered light on her feet, through the trees. When she reached the lake-shore, butterflies in her stomach took control. They wouldn't cease. She moved the last few metres to the opening. She took a deep breath and using all the Gryffindor courage she possessed stepped forward to confront her past.

He was there. Just as he said he would be.

She glanced at his figure; doing her best to avoid his eyes. She could still feel them boring into her though. She had to try to distance herself. She couldn't let herself be taken over by memories. They were just memories now; nothing more. Her future was with Ron.

"Cad atá cearr leat?" he smirked.

("What's wrong with you?")

"Nothing" she replied; staring at the ground.

"As Gaeilge, Más é do thoil é." He ordered.

("In Irish, if you please")

"Faic" she translated through gritted teeth. What authority did he have to come to her Engagement Party and tell her what to do?

("Nothing")

"Bhuel, bhuel" he said looking directly at her "Ní fhaca mé le fhada tú"

("Well, well" he said looking directly at her "I haven't seen you in a long time")

Hermione blushed pink; keeping her eyes on the ground.

He chuckled. "Tá súil agam go bhfuil tú i mbarr na sláinte"

("I hope you're in the best of health")

She gazed up at him hesitatingly. After a few moments she replied quietly "Gurb amhlaidh duit"

("The same to you")

"Ta tú go háilinn anocht" he complimented while looking her up and down.

("You're beautiful tonight")

"Cén fath go raibh tú anseo?" she asked; ignoring his last sentence. She looked at the ground. She tried to ignore her pounding heart but there was no escaping the thud it was making in her chest. Faster and faster. Because of his presence.

("Why are you here?")

"Chun tú féin a fheiceáil. Chun eolas a thabhairt duit arís."

("To see you. To remind you.")

"De chén rud?" She questioned breathlessly; not daring to turn her head towards him. Just having him here was enough to make her heart race, she didn't think she could handle the memories, which she had so carefully buried deep in her heart, being dragged to the surface again.

("Of what?")

"An chuimhin leat?" He smirked; closing any distance left between their two bodies. "Nuair a bhíomar ag bualadh craicinn ar an urlár…nuair a bhi tú ag béiceadh in ard a cinn is a ghútha…ag béiceadh m'ainm" He ran a finger down her arm. He shivered. "An chuimhin leat é sin?"

("Do you remember?" He smirked; closing any distance between their two bodies. "When we were fucking on the floor…when you were screaming at the top of your voice…screaming my name" He ran a finger down her arm. She shivered. "Do you remember that?")

"Stad! Bhí cúig bliana agat ach thainig tú anocht?! Níl sé sin cóir nó cothrom." She had to stop him. He was angry. She could see that now. She had hurt him and he was here to make her pay for that. He just didn't know how much she had hurt herself by her actions, five years ago. Five years of sleepless nights, hot tears and bitter regrets and, now, he was here to make her feel worse?

(Stop! You had five years but you come tonight?! It's not right or fair.)

"Níl sé coir nó cothrom?" he repeated, aghast. "Níl tú in áit aon rud a rá."

("It's not right or fair?" he repeated, aghast. "You're in no place to talk.")

"Tá brón orm." She murmured.

("I'm sorry.")

And she meant it. She was sorry.

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