Christmas at the Burrow was much like it always was. There were far too many in the house, Weasleys coming out of every nook and cranny. The kitchen was always full of people and food and the living room was loud with laughter and occasionally an explosion or two. Usually, Hermione loved it there. It smelt and tasted like home to her in a way that she relished. For a few days, the Burrow always cheered her up, soothed her, cleared her mind.

This Christmas, everything that she usually loved was rubbing her the wrong way. It was too noisy and there was no place to go, to hide. Ginny had arrived without Draco, claiming that he was with his mother and neither of them had, rightfully, wanted to spend the holiday together. Hermione's stomach dropped when the redhead had arrived alone, but she wasn't sure whether it was in relief or in sadness.

And now, everyone was sitting around in post-dinner bliss, lounging by the fire, wearing their Weasley sweaters. Harry and Ginny had slipped away for the second time that day, and Hermione had decided she couldn't stand it anymore. It felt suffocating.

Pushing open the back door, she gasped in cold air, doubling over and inhaling deeply, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt the tears well up. Swallowing the sob that bubbled up through her chest, she dropped down onto the step, wrapping her arms around her knees and placing her face on top of them. Her shoulders heaved as she sobbed and she decided not to hold it in anymore.

After what felt like hours, Hermione finally took a deep breath and lifted a hand to wipe at her tears, propping her chin on her knee so that she could scan her eyes over the back garden, watching as a gnome tried to dart across without being too obvious.

Truthfully, Hermione wasn't entirely sure what she was crying about. The injustice of it all, maybe. The reminder that Draco had been sixteen when he had been forced to heel and branded by a psychopath. The conflicting emotions of wanting someone - desperately wanting someone - who was not entirely a good person. Not that anyone was truly a good person, not really, but there was something more to Draco. A darkness that she wasn't used to. An intensity that scared her.

There was also the worry that she would never be able to look at him, to look at his mark, and not panic. That he would take it the wrong way, as if it were something about him rather than the fact that she saw that mark in her worst nightmares, had stared directly at it during her most difficult experience.

And how could you love someone who was on the other side of a war? Who, whatever their reasons, had done things that you considered unimaginable? Unforgivable? Beyond that, she wasn't even sure what her feelings really meant. Hermione was attracted to him, no doubts there. He was intoxicating. When she stopped thinking about them and only thought about him, in front of her, his hands on her skin, Hermione couldn't help but feel it so painfully she wasn't sure how it was possible. How it was possible to sit with this need and this longing and not burst at the seams.

How could she long for him when something that was a part of him terrified her? How could she reconcile the man who she saw laughing in the sunlight with the man who could tell her, without hesitation, that he would kill for her?

Hermione's brain was running in circles, and she was jolted out of it when the door beside her creaked open and a familiar figure dropped down onto the stoop beside her. Hermione smiled over at the newcomer, taking in her flushed face and wide-eyed expression.

"The first Weasley Christmas is definitely an experience." Hermione commiserated, smiling at Win the best that she could manage.

"Right you are, Hermione. They're a wild lot, this one." But her voice was warm and she smiled, dazed and happy as she said it. "How are you doing? You've been out here a while."

Hermione shrugged, awkwardly, stretching her legs out and flexing her fingers against the cold. "I've been better, I think."

Win turned her body slightly towards Hermione, pulling out her wand and casting a quick warming charm around them - just enough to take the bite off. "Want to talk about it?"

Hermione sighed, fidgeting. "I don't know. It's really rather complicated, actually." Win was looking at her though, in that same way full of curiosity and softness that made Hermione want to open up. "Do you remember Draco Malfoy? From school? I mean, beyond the fact that he's married to Ginny."

"Oh, who could forget the little bugger? 'Wait till my father hears about this!' Thought he owned the whole bloody school. Stuck up prejudiced little brat." Win paused, remembering the rumors - remembering the truth. "He let them into Hogwarts."

Hermione sighed, rubbing at her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Yeah. He hated me. I mean, it was certainly mutual. He was a pureblood blood-purist. Thought I was scum of the earth, and told me so regularly."

Win nodded. "I can't believe he got matched up with Gin. She's feisty, I know she can hold her own against him. It just seems odd. That whatever this compatibility measure is seemed to decide that they were right for each other. It just, it seems wrong. But," Win paused, glancing down at her hand where her wedding ring sparkled in the winter sunlight. "George and I… I couldn't have imagined or asked for someone better suited to me. We understand each other on a level I didn't think was really possible. And from the sounds of it he's happier than he's been in years. So, why were we so lucky, when others weren't?"

Hermione groaned, shaking her head. "I've got no idea, Win. I've been trying to research from the last time this happened. But the records are terrible, really horrendous. But," she paused, looking back out towards the gnome who was now crawling across a particularly large and empty stretch of grass. "But the problem I'm having right now is… it's more, uh..." Hermione groaned and dropped her face into her hands. "I have some form of feelings for Draco Malfoy; I'm not sure what to do with them or where they came from and I don't know what to do anymore."

Win didn't respond for a long moment and Hermione was worried, waiting for the woman to tell her that she was being an idiot and needed to stop right then and there. "Feelings aren't actually things we have that much control over, Hermione."

Pulling her hands from her face, Hermione turned her head slightly so that she could see Win's reactions. But Win looked just the same as she had a minute ago. No malice or distrust in her expression.

"I know, but... We just have such an awful history. And I don't know how to separate the boy who was so atrocious from this brilliant man who quotes Hamlet and Nietzsche and laughs with his whole body and does everything he can to suppress his emotions because he hurts." Hermione sighed. "And now I sound like a nutter."

"No!" Win reached out, grabbing one of Hermione's hands. "No, you're not. And, maybe you don't need to separate those people. He's still himself, but I think you're a pretty brilliant person, Hermione. I don't think you'd be feeling these things if you didn't know that he's changed. That he's taken those bad things about himself and actively worked to change them. Everyone hurts, after what we've all been through. I can't imagine having the added knowledge that you were on the wrong side."

Hermione nodded, eyes trained on the gnome who was now taking small steps, freezing completely between them, trying to pretend he was not actually moving closer to the flowerbed. "Maybe. He's still scary, sometimes. He's been through things I can't understand, and can't comprehend. And I'm worried… that he's going to pull me down with him."

"That will never happen." Win sounded so clear, so sure of it that Hermione turned to look at her. "You have so many people who love you, who support you, who are holding on to you. If you start to go down, we're all going to pull back."

Hermione sighed, but smiled at the girl beside her. "I'm glad you ended up part of our wild family, Win."

"Me too, Hermione."

As they stood up to go back inside, Hermione couldn't help but feel relieved. Talking to someone who had a negative opinion of Draco - but not to the same degree as Harry and Ron did - who didn't immediately say that it was the stupidest thing she'd ever done was reassuring. It didn't solve her dilemma, but it definitely didn't hurt either.

"Hermione!"

Footsteps pounded up the stairs of Grimmauld Place and Hermione looked up from her book just in time to see Harry skid over the wood floor at the top of the stairs. He rounded the corner into the library and leaned against the doorframe, taking a deep breath.

"Harry?" Hermione sat up straighter at the sight of him. His cheeks were flushed and some of his hair was sticking literally straight up. "Harry, what's wrong?"

Harry waved his hands, excitedly. "Come on, Hermione, we have to go! We have to go to St. Mungo's!"

Hermione shot up out of her chair, immediately crossing the room to Harry. "Harry what's wrong? Are you alright? Is someone injured?" She paused, gasped. "Is Ginny okay?"

Harry nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and grabbed her hand to try and pull her off the chair. When she didn't move immediately, he dropped it and went straight over to the fire, tossed in a pinch of floo powder, and stepped in.

"Harry wait! Harry what's going on?!" Hermione called, rushing forward before he disappeared.

"Luna!" Harry cried, excitedly. And then, with a shout of "St. Mungo's" he was gone.

Hermione threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. What was that even supposed to mean? She quickly accio'd her purse and tossed her book in, as well as the one that Harry had been reading the last she'd seen him. As she tossed her own powder into the fire she counted backwards. Luna would have gotten pregnant around the middle of April. Which meant that she wasn't technically due till probably closer to the middle of January. So this visit could really be anything.

When she stepped out at the other end, Hermione was reminded of exactly what day it was.

New Years was not a day you wanted to be in the hospital. The waiting room was full of people who'd drank far too much, people who'd burned themselves on fireworks and sparkler charms gone awry, and it was just generally chaotic. She'd barely moved away from the fireplace when Harry had her hand and was tugging her down the hallway.

"Harry, is Luna alright? Has something gone wrong or is she in labour? You're really not giving me much to go on here!"

As he pulled her into the elevator, Harry finally took a breath and realized he hadn't explained anything. "Nothing's wrong, Hermione, I just got a Patronus from Gin, said we had to get here as soon as possible but not to worry. She was at practice with the Harpies so she'll be here soon, but wanted us to get here right away."

Hermione sighed. For all they knew, Luna had only just started her labour. She was very glad she'd remembered to bring a book for the both of them then. The elevator dinged and they stepped out onto the quiet and peaceful maternity ward. Harry checked in with the nurse and they were directed down a hallway.

"That's it, fourteen." Harry gestured to the door and Hermione nodded, moving to knock softly on it. She wasn't going to barge in if Luna was in the middle of, well, birthing a child.

"Come in!" A soft voice had responded and Hermione looked over to Harry, and then opened the door.

Hermione's heart swelled with pride as they entered the room. In an armchair right up next to the bed were Dean and Seamus, curled around one another with a tiny bundle in their arms. They were both utterly captivated, looking down and whispering sweet nothings to each other and the bundle in their arms, Dean running a finger over his baby's tiny face.

Luna and Pansy were in a similar position. Pansy was on the bed, Luna in between her legs, leaning back. Luna looked exhausted and radiant. Her hair was a sweaty mess but Pansy had obviously pulled it back into a french braid to keep it mostly out of her way. Her skin was flushed but she was glowing and the smile on her face could have lit up the whole room. Pansy had her chin rested on Luna's shoulder. One of her arms was supporting Luna with holding their daughter, and the other one was on Luna's lap with her fingers tangled through Luna's free ones. She didn't even look up at the extra Gryffindors in the room, fixated wholly on the bundle in Luna's arms.

"Hermione, Harry, hello." Luna beamed up at them, waving them in with the hand that Pansy was clearly not letting go of. "How wonderful to see you both. What excellent timing. The healers have just left to give us some space."

As they passed over the threshold Hermione felt the telltale cleaning charms wash over her and she shuddered, but slid out of her coat and dropped it and her bag on a chair near the door. Harry had done the same. Making her way over to the bed, Hermione sat tentatively on the edge of it, peering at the small wrinkled face that she could see peeking out the deep green blanket.

"Oh Luna," Hermione whispered, voice soft. "She's absolutely beautiful." Luna's grin could have split her whole face and she nodded.

"Yes. I did a rather good job, don't you think? We've named her Bryony; she's going to grow and climb and sprout just as beautifully as any other vine."

Harry had gone over to Dean and Seamus, and was crouching in front of their chair, looking at the little girl they held wrapped in red. She was obviously not Luna's child by blood. Her skin was much darker, a more even blend of her two fathers. Her face was different as well, but she was no less precious.

"Thanks for coming, mate." Seamus mumbled, finally tearing his eyes away from his daughter to look up at Harry. "We really appreciate it." Harry nodded enthusiastically at his friends.

"Of course! We wouldn't miss this for the world."

Hermione and Harry had been with the happy parents nearly an hour when there was another soft knock on the door.

"Come in!" Called Luna. Hermione was now sitting in a chair next to Dean and Seamus, cuddling their little girl. Harry was next to Luna and Pansy, watching as his friend and her wife melted over their new daughter. Pansy Parkinson was not someone that would ever be called soft, but if there was ever a time to apply the word, now was probably it.

The door swung open and Ginny entered, flashing a smile at Harry. Draco was right behind her, and Hermione glanced up just as he scanned the room. Their eyes met and she shivered involuntarily under his gaze.

Ginny seemed like she wanted to go to Luna, but Draco was headed over there and rather than crowd the new mother she instead turned to Dean and Seamus. "Hello little one," she mumbled, over the bundle that Hermione was holding. "What's her name?" She asked then, looking back at the proud fathers.

"Kyra." Seamus supplied, with a smile. "Dean was nice enough to indulge my roots. Little dark one. We both thought it fit pretty well."

Ginny nodded enthusiastically, and Hermione stood up, letting Ginny take the seat and then passing her the bundle. And then she turned and her eyes landed on something she had never imagined before.

Draco Malfoy was sitting in an armchair, leaned back, with the bundle of baby in his arms. His face had broken into a soft smile and he was brushing his finger over the child's forehead. He looked awestruck, and domestic, and all of the thoughts that Hermione had had over the past week of him being dangerous slipped immediately from her mind.

"Granger." Hermione turned her head to the voice, immediately bracing herself. Pansy Parkinson didn't often speak to her, but when she did it wasn't usually for a good reason. "I need coffee. You're not holding a baby. Let's go."

Hermione glanced around to see if anyone would rescue her, but Luna looked half-asleep, and Ginny was holding Kyra with Harry crouched next to them, hearts in his eyes. Draco was too caught up with Bryony, and so, it was just her. "Sure, Parkinson." At this point, what else did she have to lose? Besides, if Luna liked her she couldn't be that bad.

The walk to the hospital cafeteria was tense and awkward. Pansy got coffee for herself, Dean and Seamus, and an herbal tea for Luna (and made Hermione help carry them). As they headed back, Hermione was about to say something when Pansy abruptly stopped walking. They were in an empty corridor and Hermione had the thought that even if she needed her wand, she wouldn't be able to grab it due to the coffee in her hands. Then again, Pansy wouldn't either. It still wasn't a comforting thought.

"Look, Granger. I don't know what your deal is. Everybody looks at you like the bloody sun shines out your arse, and frankly, I don't see it." Hermione frowned, but Pansy pressed on. "I get that you don't like me. Not many people do these days. But look. I'm not sure what game you and Draco are playing."

"We're not-" Hermione had started to speak but Pansy shot her a withering look and she closed her mouth.

"Don't even try to deny it. Draco is my best friend. Don't think he didn't come to me, after what happened between you two. He puts on a strong face, Granger, but he's struggling. And the last thing I need is for you to waltz in, hold his hand and tell him it's okay, and then stomp on his heart when you decide that you're too good for him."

"I'm not-"

"Did I look like I was done talking?" Pansy snapped. "Granger, I know you're smart. So I know that you know what it means that I was in Slytherin. I protect my own, and Draco is the closest to my own that I will ever have, and the only other people in this fucked up world that I hold in such high regard are Luna and Bryony and Kyra. I guess those two bloody Gryffindors now, seeing as they're the fathers of my daughter's sister. If you fuck with him, play your little game, follow whatever fancy is in your head and then crack him open and don't like what's inside…" Pansy paused, turning her head away. Hermione thought she saw the Slytherin sniffle. "It will kill him." When Pansy turned back, the look she was sending at Hermione almost made her step backwards. "And if it kills him, I will make the rest of your life miserable."

"Look, Parkinson." Hermione wanted to cross her arms, to protect herself. The coffee she was carrying prevented that. She felt vulnerable and exposed and she suspected it was because Pansy had hit her worries right on the nose. That she would crack him open and be horrified by what was exposed. "I don't know what we're doing. Draco and I. I don't… I don't think he does either. But, I don't think of myself as better than him, not now. We were both in a really terrible position and we both did what we needed to do to survive and," Hermione paused, realization setting into her bones, so true she could nearly taste it and she couldn't help but wonder why she had never placed words to this feeling before. "And I forgive him, wholly and wholeheartedly for that. And if we decide that whatever is happening is not the right thing for either of us, it won't be because he scares me off. And I won't leave him broken."

Pansy opened her mouth to speak, but it was Hermione who cut her off this time. "Trust me, Parkinson. You don't have to like me - I don't like you - but that's not the type of person that I am. I wouldn't let that happen."

Pansy eyed her carefully, looking closely at the woman in front of her. Finally, she nodded. "Fine. But my threat still stands, Granger. Don't fuck this up."

Hermione nodded in response, and they walked back to the rest of the room in silence. Hermione's brain caught up in Pansy's words, and in the way that she had realized, all at once, that she did forgive Draco. She wasn't entirely sure why, and she certainly wasn't sure it was a good idea. But for now, perhaps, it was time to put that aside and for once, trust her gut instead of her brain.

Draco dipped out of the room shortly after Hermione and Pansy returned with the hot beverages. Hermione had been talking softly to Luna about who she was choosing to be godparents. Harry was clearly a frontrunner, though Dean and Seamus were planning on asking Neville and Ginny. Luna wanted to ask nearly everyone she considered a friend, and she was telling Hermione about Pansy's insistence that no, she couldn't have seven godparents (eight, if you counted the fact that Pansy had already asked Draco), but Luna didn't seem to mind much what Pansy said at all.

Hermione suspected it was part of why their relationship worked so well.

Noticing that Draco had left the room, Hermione passed Bryony back over to her mother, and glanced around to make sure that no one noticed she was going as well. Then, she too slipped out of the room, and made her way down the hallway. She paused as she passed a door that led to one of St. Mungo's small balconies, typically there so that patients could get a breath of fresh air, and opened it. Her hunch was correct, and Draco was standing at the edge, leaning with his forearms against the railing and looking out over the street.

Hermione took a breath for courage and stepped up beside him, leaning against the railing next to him. They stood in silence for a long moment, both taking in the cool night air and gathering their thoughts.

"Granger," Draco began, clearly uncomfortable.

"Not today." Hermione interjected, suddenly not wanting to get into it. She was still equal parts embarrassed and upset about what had happened in the dining room, and she wanted to just enjoy the moment with him, without bringing it up. "It's New Years. And today is for Luna and Pansy and Dean and Seamus. And Bryony and Kyra."

Draco closed his mouth and nodded once, but she could tell that he still wanted to bring it up again. "I heard about an interesting muggle tradition, once."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and turned her body to face his, inspecting his face for clues. He was stoic, holding his expression very neutral. Then he turned and lifted a hand to cup her jaw, peering down into her eyes. "What's that?" Hermione asked, suddenly breathless with his closeness.

"According to muggles," Draco began, grinning down at her. "On New Year's, you're supposed to kiss."

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes up at him. "When the clock strikes midnight, you're supposed to kiss. It's nearly half four-"

And then Draco cut her off, leaning down towards her and pressing his lips against hers. Hermione swallowed the rest of her comment and let herself enjoy the feeling, pushing all thoughts of Death Eaters and marks and his particular brand of intensity to the back of her mind.

Draco pulled back slowly, and then stepped away from her. "Happy New Year, Granger."

He was gone before she had a chance to respond, and Hermione slowly lifted a hand to her lips. "You too." She whispered, and then followed him back into the building.

A/N: Thank you for all of your support so far - it means so much to me! 3 Make sure to subscribe or follow my tumblr (same username as here) so you don't miss any updates. :)