Don't own Harry Potter or make any money off this fic. All rights belong to J.K. and her publishers/franchisers. (Is that even a word?)
AN: There's this one and then the epilogue. Enjoy. It's been a pleasure, y'all.
Over the next year, Draco's letter to Hermione became increasingly illegible, as it carried more than a few sweat and tear stains, was torn and patched back together, tattered along the edges, and occasionally soaked in blood. But Hermione didn't care. She kept it by her heart, always, and its words- now memorized- gave her the strength she needed to make it through that year. To not count all the hardships she faced, and to stand proudly by Harry's side, while Ron stood loyally with her.
He never abandoned them, even after Hermione made it clear that she would never care for him the same way again, and that the last year had changed everything. Even though his eyes told her she deserved more than a measly letter. Still, she didn't care.
Hermione only ever got the one, because not long after that Harry made his crash landing at the Tonks home and the Malfoys had to be moved again. Of course, his run in with Voldemort that night also set the Dark Lord off on his quest to possess the Elder Wand, and it didn't take Harry long, with Hermione and Ron's help, to realize that Draco was the actual master of the wand.
Which in turn meant that Draco's being utterly off the grid was even more imperative, although Voldemort didn't exactly jump to the same conclusion.
Fortunately, one good thing came from the trio's capture, seclusion, and then escape from Malfoy Manor: Harry ended up snatching Draco's abandoned wand, making himself the master of the wand. It took him a bit longer to realize it, however, as he'd taken the wand off a now dead Macnair.
When Voldemort decided to kill him just hours before the Battle of Hogwarts began, Snape had to restrain his glee while pointing out there was no way he could be the wand's master, and thus his death would be pointless.
Which of course meant that when Voldemort needed someone to make sure that Potter was dead, Severus was alive and on hand to readily lie to his face…which meant that Harry was able to sneak back into the castle and kill the bastard in a final, strangely anticlimactic duel.
The remaining Death Eaters were, on the whole, easier to beat than anyone expected, but then again, the Order had Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy in their ranks: two adults who had no compunctions against fighting fire with fire. And of course, the Death Eaters' best duelist was already dead, so there was that.
And there was Draco, too. He helped a bit.
He was just kneeling in the Great Hall, checking the binds of a fellow Slytherin who hadn't made the right choices, when Hermione spotted his blonde head, hair sticking to his brow with the sweat from battle.
She stumbled, one hand clutched over her heart, crumpling the letter beneath her jumper, wanting to run to him, to call his name, to do anything but just stand there like an idiot…and yet she couldn't move. Ron saw her distress and walked up beside her.
"Well?" he asked gruffly. "What are you waiting for?"
She shook her head slightly and turned towards the sound of his voice, but couldn't tear her eyes from Draco.
"How…how is Fred?" she asked breathlessly. Ron raised a brow.
"Alive. Making jokes about the matching holes in their heads. Mum is ready to kill him herself. George too, I think," he added thoughtfully, then looked across to Draco again. He leaned towards Hermione.
"Go on, then," he whispered.
Again, Hermione shook her head.
"Why not?"
"I don't…" I don't know why I'm even talking about this with you right now, here, for god's sake, she wanted to say, but didn't. "I don't even know how he feels about me now. I don't know how I feel."
"The way you've cried over that letter every night for the last year I'd say you bloody well know how you feel. Blimey, Hermione. Just get over there, will you? I already feel like enough of a jerk, standing here sticking up for my own bloody rival."
Hermione turned her face to his finally and her eyes were bright with tears. Impulsively she threw her arms about his neck and hugged him tightly. Ron held her back as closely and buried his face in her neck.
"But just so you know…if he doesn't want you, he's an idiot. And I'll be here as long as you want me to."
Hermione finally pulled away and he let her go, a wry smile on his face.
"I already told you not to wait for me," she murmured softly.
"It's the least I can do," he said. "To make up for-"
"You stood by us all year. Even when it hurt," she replied. "You were there when he wasn't. You did your job."
"He couldn't be there," Ron pointed out, wondering why in hell he was still sticking up for Draco. He shook his head. "But I reckon I'll wait until he puts a ring on your finger," he said stoutly. "And that's that. Now go on, will you?"
Hermione bit her lip and glanced from Ron to Draco and back again. Then she reached up, kissed his cheek, and started away.
Ginny watched all this from a distance, and felt Harry beside her, putting an arm about her shoulders.
"So they're really over," he murmured and Ginny looked up at him.
"They never really started," she said and Harry sighed.
"But they could've. This last year…Ron was brilliant," he said softly. "He did everything right with her, this time around."
"And she needed that, and he's not a complete ape," Ginny said. "She lost everything last June and she buried it all away as best she could to be with you two. And Ron knew that."
Though why he knew that and why he was so close to the issue were things she couldn't tell Harry. Not that he hadn't guessed at some of it, in his heart of hearts. But he let the sleeping dog lie, because he realized it was what was best. Still, he ached a bit for what might have been, once upon a time.
And then they saw Draco standing and turning from his task and seeing Hermione, and the world stopped spinning for one second as they held their breath.
"Granger," Draco said, voice barely above a whisper in the crowded, noisy hall.
"Draco," she replied, and he swallowed hard. Her shoulders were back, her head held high. He wondered if she knew she was crying.
"Did you give them hell?" he asked, at a loss for words.
But it was apparently the right thing to say, because a second later she'd closed the space between them and had thrown her arms around him and was holding him tight, so tight. He barely had a chance to embrace her in return, though, before she'd pulled away and punched him solidly in the arm.
He was just glad it wasn't his face this time.
"I deserve that," he said and she shook her head, still crying, but just as joyfully unaware of it.
"You don't," she replied. "But I don't know if you'd rather I kissed you or not. And I really had to do something because I really, really wish I hated you, or didn't care at all about you, because then this last year wouldn't have been so hard-"
He shut her up with his mouth on hers and she folded her arms around him again, nestling herself into his return embrace this time.
When he pulled away, her face was glowing slightly and she'd stopped crying. He informed her of both facts and she blushed.
"I missed you," he said simply.
"Draco-"
"I'm sorry I didn't write more."
"Dra-"
"Would it shock you at all to know that my feelings haven't changed?"
"D-"
"I'm trying to tell you I still love you, Hermione Granger, so would you just shut up and listen to me for once? I had to deal with your know-it-all, bossy boots, non-stop chatter all last year, and then this year, when you weren't even around, when I hadn't seen you for months, you were still there, in my head, constantly. Telling me what I ought to be doing, or what I'd just done wrong, and about the most mundane, stupid, boring things, too, like the laundry, or the cooking, even bloody cleaning my room when I- do you know I didn't even have a room sometimes this last year? The entire last month we were in a bleeding treehouse, can you imagine, in some muggle's back yard. And still, you were in my head and you wouldn't just leave me in peace, for one lousy second, and I loved every snarky, bloody minute of it."
Hermione gaped at him and he smirked.
"That's better. Now, what was it you were going to say, Granger?"
She screwed up her mouth.
"You're a prat," she told him and he laughed.
"I know that," he said. "Anything else?"
"Ron said he'd have me back if you didn't want me," she replied, a sly smile on her face.
"He's probably better for you," Draco informed her and she rolled her eyes.
"Maybe."
"But I'd kill him as soon as you went back to him, so for his sake I think you'd better choose me."
"And what gives you the right?" she asked, enjoying their sparring after an entire year of silence and separation and finding little joy in the world around her.
"The fact that you're still wearing that tacky ring I gave you is a good sign, I'd say."
She frowned. "It's not tacky and I happen to love this ring and I heard that you spent quite a bit of money on it."
"And who told you that?" he asked, mimicking her frown. She fought to keep the grin off her face.
"Your mum."
"My-"
"You may not have been able to write, but your mum did."
His jaw dropped. "So you- this entire last year-"
"That's right. She's got lovely penmanship, by the way, and she had even lovelier things to say." She went on. "But I don't care what anyone else thinks, or says, or how psychologically scarred I supposedly am, or how mentally unstable all this makes either of us. When we're old enough, none of it will matter anyway. So, barring natural disaster, I'd say we've weathered all there is and I think we can stand a bit more."
"I suppose so," Draco agreed, slightly dazed.
"Then that's settled," Hermione said.
"Wait, what?"
"We still want to be together."
"I love you," he said fiercely and she laughed, and it was the most glorious thing he'd heard in months.
"I'm not sure if we love each other or not," she admitted. "Or if we've just come down to one another because we're all we have after everything else. But I think it'll do for now."
"I think you've gotten rather mercenary," Draco informed her seriously and she laughed again.
"Maybe. But I am going to marry into a family of Slytherins. I think it's rather necessary, don't you?"
Then she turned from him and, taking his hand, started to drag him over to where a celebration of sorts was starting to take place. Draco went after her, eyes wide and heart pounding like nothing else.
"Marry?"
Hermione turned her head, eyes shining, face free from fear and anxiety for the first time in months.
"Marry!" she shouted back to him and in the next minute, his excitement overtook his disbelief and he felt something akin to awe bubbling within him.
Above the din of the Great Hall, his laughter mingled with hers, and its infectious spirit joined everyone gathered in an expression of shared joy and relief so long in coming that it was nearly painful to feel.
The war was finally, truly over.