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"What is he doing?"

"I honestly have no idea."

"He looks silly."

"The big one or the little one?"

Draco, James, and Harry stood and watched as Blaise and Albus stared at each other. Blaise was sitting on the couch in Harry's living room, not really sure what to make of the small person as Albus bounced in his seat, sitting in the middle of a round plastic contraption that had all sorts of things to distract a baby. However, instead of being distracted by the colors and the spindles with rattling beads, he stared at Blaise, nearly mimicking the man's head tilt.

"It's so…I mean…what does it do?" Blaise ask, intently tilting his head to the other side ever so slightly.

"It's a baby," James said, rather indignantly for a four year old. "It doesn't do anything."

"How about we not call my son an 'it'?" Harry suggested. "He did come into this world with a name."

Blaise poked Albus lightly with his wand, causing the baby to giggle. Blaise poked him again, and Albus laughed harder. "Ha! He thinks it's a game!"

Draco swallowed a laugh, an arm crossed against his chest as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't let Ginny see you prodding her son with a wand."

"But it - I mean, he likes it," Blaise said enthusiastically, continuing to poke Albus. "See?"

James grabbed Draco's hand and pulled on it twice, pushing his glasses up on his small nose. "Uncle Draco…your friend, Mr. Blaise, is weird."

The men were left to their own devices that day, as Ginny and Hermione were treated to spa day from Draco. It was the fifth anniversary of the end of the Second Wizarding War, and there was a big event at the ministry that evening. Part of the event was a fundraiser for those still suffering from the effects of the war, part of the event was a celebration for the world they currently lived in today. Narcissa was vacationing in the south of France as she always did during this week, as it was easier to stay out of sight than to ignore the requests for interviews as there were still many out there - all entirely too interested in what the wife of a former right hand man to the Dark Lord thought. Hermione, Harry, and Ginny had been dreading the event all week, despite Kingsley's repeated remarks that tonight would be special. Draco on the other hand was pretty indifferent to it all, as he was every year. If he wasn't indifferent, the emotion of everything would overcome him, and he wasn't about to be paralyzed by his past when he'd accomplished so much to move forward.

Blaise and his comfort level around the Potters was slowly increasing over time as he began to accept more invitations to hang out with the uncanny crew. James of course still wasn't sure about Blaise, despite both Draco and Harry's explanations that he was a good guy…just a bit boorish at times. Of course, Draco was also convinced that if Ginny would be a little less hesitant around Blaise, James would follow suit. "I certainly didn't give you the benefit of the doubt overnight," Ginny reminded Draco after their first dinner all together after he asked her to be a little less…well, herself.

"I thought we were going to finish my tree house," James interjected.

Harry picked up James and nuzzled his nose, eliciting a laugh from his oldest child. "We are." He looked at Draco, who was watching Blaise. "If you grab the munchkin, we can put his jacket on and let him play in that walker outside."

Draco went to pick up Albus, but Blaise beat him to it. Carefully, he watched his friend put his large hands on Albus' waist and hoist him up as he stood to his feet. Albus kicked his feet as he babbled at Blaise. "Ha!" he exclaimed. "I'm holding a baby! Never done it before, but look! I'm good at it!"

Carefully, Draco took Albus from Blaise and gave him a humoring nod. "Brilliant, Blaise. Now let's go see how handy you are with a hammer."

The tree house was nearly finished. All it needed was the railing completed on the small wrap around deck Harry and Draco built and a good wood stain to protect it from the weather. The railing needed thick spindles nailed somewhat close together so that James and when he was bigger, Albus, could neither fall through them or get a head stuck - Ginny's distinct instructions before leaving the men to finish. Blaise stood on the ground, watching as Harry and Draco got to hammering the spindles. Blaise, as it turned out was not handy with any type of tools. "I don't understand this manual labor thing," he said.

"Will you push me, Mr. Blaise?" James asked, climbing into the tire swing attached to the same tree.

"Harry's a masochist," Draco explained as he hammered. "He likes to do things the hard way."

Harry paused his hammering, looking down at Blaise as he gave James a good hard push on the swing. "You can't possibly understand it, Blaise, but if you ever have kids, you will. I want my kids to know that I physically built this place for them to play. That I climbed a ladder and tied the rope for the swing around that branch. It will mean something to them when they're older - that I built them this instead of flicking a wand and just making it appear."

Blaise nodded. "I get it," he replied. "It's quite admirable in a sense."

"Thanks," Harry replied. "See Draco - he gets it."

"It's not that I don't get it," Draco scoffed. "I'm just emotionally stunted."

"It's true," Blaise agreed. "He is."

"How are you not as stunted?" Harry asked.

Blaise laughed. "I'd tell you what I am, but I don't have any galleons for the swear machine over here," he said, pointing to James. "Given what I've been doing over the past five years - I'd say I think it's pretty safe to stay that I'm somewhat stunted as well."

Meanwhile, over at a luxurious Muggle spa in London, Ginny and Hermione walked into the steam room, clad only in fluffy towels as they sat across from each other on the wooden benches. They both sighed, letting the heat release the tension they'd been carrying all week out of their muscles. Neither one of them was looking forward to this evening, but eventually, this anniversary would become nothing more than a memory on a day, instead of a day that was still pretty raw with emotion.

"This was a brilliant idea on Draco's part," Ginny replied, stretching her arms above her head.

"He has his moments," Hermione agreed with a cheeky grin. "Ugh…I'm just not in the mood for this evening, you know?"

Ginny nodded. "I do. Poor James wants to come so bad, but he's just too little to understand it all. He worries enough already without adding to it. Jori babysitting, however, softened the blow a bit. Apparently she makes the world's best peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

"She does make a good sandwich," Hermione admitted. "I feel like tonight is going to be the night where I am just bombarded with everything. I don't know why…I just do."

"You've gotten off pretty easy with the paparazzi lately, considering your engagement and all. If ever there was a night that would have everyone buzzing about it - tonight would indeed be that night. But you never know."

Groaning, Hermione held her face in her hands. "Bloody hell."

"You sound like Ron," Ginny teased. "Speaking of, you want to know what piece of interesting advice he claims to have received from your fiancé?" Hermione shrugged, allowing Ginny to continue. "When Mum and Dad asked him if he was going to 'do the right thing' and marry Lavender Brown - and believe me when I say that the sheer thought of her as an in law makes me want to vomit - he said that he didn't think it'd 'be the right thing' to marry her solely because she was carrying his child. Advice, he claims, he received from Draco."

She thought about it long and hard, trying to figure out when and where he could have possibly had a conversation with Ron - if in fact he was telling the truth. Sure, he worked at the Ministry now, but she rarely crossed paths with him, so she couldn't imagine when Draco would and if they did - the two of them actually conversing. Then she remembered the day of Harry's accident, and later that evening, Draco telling her how he accidentally let it slip that Lavender was pregnant. She told Ginny of what she knew about the conversation. "Regardless of Draco saying it or not, I mean, Ron has a point."

"I'm not saying he doesn't," Ginny argued. "My mum, on the other hand, believes otherwise."

"Ronald can certainly do the responsible thing without marrying her."

"Mum and Dad think that he's shrugging his responsibility as a man by not marrying her."

"What does Ronald think about all of this?" Hermione asked.

Ginny flipped a hand in the air. "He doesn't know what to do. Of course, the longer he waits to decide, the more hysterical Lavender becomes. Bloody lunatic - that one. I can't believe, I mean, I can believe he shagged her…but I can't believe he shagged her!"

Hermione didn't pretend to understand his logic when it came to Lavender Brown. She didn't understand it when they were sixteen and she didn't understand it now. But what was done was done. "Ron will figure it out," she said definitively. "In the end, he figures it out. He just has to unfortunately do it in his own time."

"Mum may kill him before he gets to figuring it out," Ginny stated. "Of course, she's excited about another grandchild. Not all that wild about the mother that comes with it - but you know Mum and grandkids. She's already badgering me for the next one, for Merlin's sake!"

"Has Harry talked to him?"

"Some," Ginny admitted. "But you know Harry - he'll support whatever Ron wants to do."

Sighing, Hermione adjusted the top of her towel discreetly. "Maybe I can talk to him."

"You're going to tell him to marry Lavender Brown. Maybe we should leave the steam room. I think the heat is going to your head."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, but I know Ron. Ron knows what he wants to do but he doesn't know how to communicate it. So I'll let him ramble like I've done in the past, figure out what he's saying, and then tell him exactly what he wants."

"Interesting idea," Ginny mused. "In all seriousness though - can we please leave the steam room? This hot sticky feeling is grossing me out."

"Of course," laughed Hermione. "Come on - we can go see if we can have our massages started early."

Hermione came home from the spa completely refreshed with her hair trimmed, styled, and face meticulously done up in a way that was light and airy on the magnificently sunny day in May. In the past five years, it was as if the universe - or at least the part over Britain - knew what the day was, and instead of rearing its usual spring gloom and rain, it instead showered the skies with sunshine. Hermione found her gown for the evening in her closet - a orange and yellow, printed chiffon dress, strapless with an empire waist. She stood in her bedroom, wearing a pair of nude lace knickers with a matching strapless bra, awkwardly balancing on one foot while she fastened the buckle on her strappy orange heels. A whistle was heard behind her, causing her to grin.

"Blaise, you know we can't do this," she mocked, turning around to find Draco leaning against the doorway, arms crossed against his chest.

His eyes grew wide. "That's not even funny!"

"It was a little bit funny," giggled Hermione.

"I beg to differ." He walked into the room, grabbing her gown hanging on the edge of the crown molding over the entrance from the bedroom to the bathroom. "You ready for tonight?" he asked, taking the dress off the hanger and handing it to Hermione. "I reckon I should get ready for this thing."

Nodding, Hermione took the dress, unzipping the back and stepping into the dress. Holding it to her chest, she turned around and Draco zipped her up. "People are probably going to be a bit more…forward than they have been since you and I became you and I," she said quietly.

Draco's hands found her bare shoulders and gave them a squeeze. "I'm assuming as much. We got off a bit too easy at the Ministry party on New Year's."

"It was a private party," Hermione added, shrugging into his fingers as he continued to lightly massage them. "It's been five years. Sometimes I feel like it's been an eternity since it was over…other times I feel like it was yesterday."

"I know what you mean," Draco replied. "Are you going to be ok tonight?"

"Are you?"

"I asked first."

Hermione turned around, loosely wrapping her arms around Draco's waist. "I have you - I'll be perfectly fine."

He cracked a wry smile. "And when some ignorant reporter asks what you're doing with the likes of a reformed death eater?"

She batted her mascara-laced eyelashes at him playfully. "I'll tell them that I'm madly in love with you - and that you're the kindest, most thoughtful, and adoring fiancé a girl could ask for."

Pressing a chaste kiss to her lips as to not mess up her make-up, he gave her a small wink. "What if that doesn't work?"

"If that doesn't work, I'm not above adding in a hex for good measure."

He laughed. "I'm going to hop in the shower. Can you pull me something to wear? I honestly haven't given it much thought."

She nodded, kissing his cheek. Brushing away the lip stain with her thumb, she smiled. "I love you. Thank you for my spa day."

He nodded, squeezing her hand before retreating to the bathroom. Hermione went into his side of the walk in closet and picked out a nice, khaki colored suit that would compliment her outfit nicely. Grabbing one of his starched white collared shirts, she also snagged him a pair of brown shoes and tan socks. Laying his outfit out on the bed, she made sure it draped in a way that it wouldn't wrinkle. Hermione walked into the bathroom towards her side of the vanity, rummaging through her jewelry box before finding her diamond studs and matching necklace. She fastened an earring in each ear as the shower stopped.

Draco never showered longer than ten minutes - unless of course he was in there with her. He pulled the towel from the side of the glass door and wrapped it firmly around his waist before walking out, seeing Hermione fiddling with the clasp of her necklace. He could see the faint pink scars on the inside of her left arm as she finally managed to fasten her necklace in place. Sometimes, the thought of the scars on her arm physically hurt him worse than his own. Muttering his concealment charm, the faded dark mark temporarily disappeared. He grabbed another towel from the rack, vigorously drying off his hair while Hermione watched. "What?" he asked, walking towards her.

"Nothing," she replied, crossing her delicate arms against her chest. "Just admiring what's mine."

He smirked. "Fair enough."

She sighed contently. "I wish we could just stay in."

"You're going to have a gazillion people fawning all over you this evening," Draco told her, drying off the upper parts of his body with the now damp towel. "It's better than the alternative."

He had a point, which Hermione acknowledged with a heartfelt touch of her hand to his arm. "Your clothes are on the bed."

She left the bathroom first, stopping in her closet briefly to pull out a tropical green colored clutch to use that evening. She tucked her wand, her wallet in case of an emergency, and her lip-gloss inside and clasped it shut. Draco emerged from the bathroom with his hair styled in a sexy, mussed up way in a pair of boxer shorts. "You didn't grab me a tie?"

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to wear one," she replied.

"I'll feel naked without one," Draco stated.

She disappeared into his closet and found a solid, yellow-orange satin tie that Draco swore to her he'd never have any reason to wear when she bought it a few weeks ago and emerged back into the bedroom. "Hmm…I think this will do."

He looked at the tie and made a face. "Seriously?"

"It matches my dress rather perfectly," Hermione stated.

"You're really not kidding." He stuffed his shirt into his pants before zipping them up, looping his brown belt through the loops.

"It does appear that I am in fact, not kidding." She popped his collar and draped the tie around his neck, staring into his grey eyes as she fashioned him a Windsor knot. Cinching the finished knot where it belonged, she folded his collar back down and grinned. "You look gorgeous."

Draco attempted to make a sour face, for no other reason than he was wearing clothing outside of his normal color palate, but if it made her happy, it was hard to stay miffed for long. Not that he was going to admit it out loud, but the tie did in fact, match Hermione's dress, and he supposed she planned it that way. "You look gorgeous," he repeated her words to her, kissing her cheek. He retrieved a set of cufflinks and gave them to Hermione, who quickly snapped them into place. Draco slipped his arms into his suit jacket and good a look at himself in the mirror. He wasn't used to himself in such cheery colored clothing, but if there was ever a day for it, this was it. Her arms slipped around him from behind as she rested her cheek against his arm. "Hi," he said to her reflection in the mirror.

"Hi," she replied. "I feel like you're more nervous about tonight than you're willing to admit."

"It's really indifference," Draco reassured her. "People are going to say whatever they want. As much as you think you're used to it, sometimes you realize you're not."

"You think that's going to happen tonight." It was a statement more than a question.

"Honestly," I don't know what I think is going to happen tonight." He didn't want to admit it out loud, but as the day went on, he did feel himself get a bit more nervous about the evening. It was the first time he was going to attend the anniversary event in the five years since the war.

She gave him a reassuring hug as he maneuvered an arm around her. "It doesn't matter what they say," she spoke softly. "Not today…not ever."

Draco agreed, breaking eye contact with her through the mirror to stare at her directly. "Let's get this show on the road."

The Ministry had clearly outdone themselves with the event, essentially turning Diagon Alley into a gigantic block party of sorts for those who wished to pay their respects, to celebrate their world as they lived it today, or to do both. Photographers from various wizarding countries bombarded Hermione and Draco the moment they arrived. Clutching his upper arm with a hand as she linked her arm with his, she put on a smile as Draco kept a somewhat stoic look while they walked past, ignoring most questions as they passed. They saw Harry and Ginny up ahead in the crowd, standing with Ron. Surprisingly enough, Blaise was standing next to Harry with Pansy, who looked thoroughly unamused at the large mass of people shuffling around the alley.

Harry wore a dapper grey suit, sans tie, while Ginny stood next to him in a black and white maxi dress and a pair of flats so that she wouldn't be taller than him. Her red hair was blown out, perfectly straight which was how Harry loved it, according to Ginny as she instructed the hairdresser earlier that day at the salon. "Who knew khaki was in your color wheel?" Ginny asked, kissing Draco's cheek as he gave her a hug.

"Funny, Red," Draco half laughed. "You look brilliant."

"Right back at you," Ginny replied.

"Granger," Blaise said, dragging out the first syllable in her last name before embracing her. "Your stunning, just as I imagined."

Draco gave Blaise a glare. "Stop imagining my fiancée."

"Can't help it," Blaise teased.

Laughing, Hermione gave Blaise a swat on the chest. Dressed in all black, as usual, Hermione noticed Pansy, looking everywhere but at the group of people she was with as she stood in flowy, hunter green dress. "Pansy - you look lovely this evening."

"Um, thanks," Pansy replied nervously.

"She's right," Ron said, somewhat timidly as he looked at Pansy. "You uh, look very pretty."

Hermione made a mental note of Ron's compliment - something she thought he was entirely incapable of dong, and filed it away in her memory bank for later. She held onto Draco's hand, noticing he had an unusually tighter hold on her dainty fingers than usual as pictures were taken and stares were given. "Relax," she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze.

An aid for the Minister appeared, requesting Harry, Ron, and Hermione's presence towards the stage near Ollivander's. Hermione was reluctant to leave Draco, but Ginny locked an arm with his and gave her a nod. "I'll take good care of him," she promised Hermione.

Hermione let go of his hand and gave him a soft kiss. "Merlin only knows what Kingsley wants."

He gave her a nod, watching as she disappeared between Harry and Ron, maneuvering through the crowds. Arm linked with Ginny's, he nodded towards Blaise and Pansy as they slowly shifted towards the center of the crowd so they could see what Kingsley had in store. "How's your Mum?" Draco asked as he and Ginny walked.

"Ok I reckon," Ginny replied. "Sad, but of course, she's always sad today. She and George are at the Burrow, like they are on this day every year."

"And you?"

Ginny gave his arm a soft pat. "I don't miss Fred today. I miss him on days when my children are at their funniest because I know Fred would be the one to egg them on, just as George does. Of course, I can't imagine I'd have much sanity left if James was left with George and Fred for a period of time, but then again, I guess I'll never know, either."

Draco nodded as they stopped, watching one of the various event planners clearing his throat into the microphone rather obnoxiously to get the massive crowd's attention. Harry, Hermione, and Ron stood off to the side, as did Neville Longbottom, not even resembling the bumbling, awkward dolt Draco remembered him to be in school. He was taller, leaner, and was nervously grinning towards someone in the audience. Standing on his toes, Draco looked towards the crowd and smirked when he saw Luna Lovegood, having not changed a bit, standing in an eccentric pink and purple outfit, her wild blond curls blowing softly in the breeze. He nudged Ginny and pointed in Luna's direction, laughing as her eyes lit up at the sight of her friend. "Where's she been?" he asked.

"It's Luna. Merlin only knows," Ginny replied with a laugh. She caught Harry's attention on stage and both her and Draco motioned with their heads in Luna's direction. Harry caught on, whispering to Hermione and Ron as they gave her a small wave from the stage.

"Welcome Everyone!" Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice boomed through the crowd as everyone looked to the Minister. "Five years ago, blanket of terror that had plagued our world for decades finally came to a close. Sacrifices were made - not a person here walked away from this day, five years ago, without suffering a loss of some kind. We expected too much of our children at that time, though they continued on with great resolve." Kingsley looked over to Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville with a grateful nod. "It is the decision of the Ministry to effectively declare today, May 2nd, an official day of remembrance - a holiday if you will."

The crowd erupted into cheers, Draco and Ginny politely clapping alongside Blaise and Pansy. Draco noticed the slightly sour look on Pansy's face as she half-heartedly clapped along. Nudging Blaise, he leaned towards him. "What's with the look on Pansy's face?"

Blaise glanced over, laughed, and turned back to Draco. "It's her regular face. She's nearly back to normal." Draco choked back at laugh as the clapping died down.

"As it is the five year anniversary of the end of the Second Wizarding War, the Ministry felt it was only appropriate to formally induct its newest members into the Order of Merlin," Kingsley announced, much to the surprise of everyone. "On this stage, we have Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom. Harry, Hermione, and Ron searched for the pieces of dark magic created by Voldermort - Horcruxes - determined to destroy them all despite not knowing where they were or how to destroy them. Their friendship was tested to the outer most limits and in the end, they prevailed."

The crowd clapped politely as Kingsley paused his speech. "Then we have Neville Longbottom - many of which who aren't aware of his deeds during the war. The unofficial leaders of the Gryffindor house had gone off on a wild goose chase, and somehow through the chaos, Mr. Longbottom rallied the troops - reorganized Dumbledore's Army - and helped create a safe haven for students within the castle. He also, proving the legend of the Sword of Gryffindor, pulled it straight from the sorting hat and destroyed the final horcrux, thus directly contributing to the fall of Voldermort himself."

Neville blushed, and the crowd cheered. Hermione reached across Ron and gave Neville's hand a squeeze.

"It is with great honor, that I introduce to you this year's inductees to the Order of Merlin - First Class," Kingley's voice thundered with pride. Each of them were donned with a heavy pentagon pendant, Merlin himself engraved into the heavy piece of metal, held around their neck with a bright blue ribbon. Photographers snapped pictures on stage as the four classmates stood together, each of them smiling politely for the cluster of camera flashes strobing as dusk began to settle. "I also," Kingsley said into the microphone as the crowds began to die down once again. "Have another award for this evening, and I'd like for Mr. Potter to come and do the honors."

Draco and Ginny watched curiously as Harry took the podium. "What is this?" Draco asked.

"I have no idea," Ginny replied. "I didn't even know this was happening."

"Right then," Harry said into the microphone. "I guess, on behalf of myself, 'Mione, Ron, and Neville, I should express our thanks for this extraordinary award, though I think I speak for everyone when I say that we don't consider our actions extraordinary - we just…did what we had to do. It's funny, considering I knew about what I was going to do tonight but had no idea about this," he played with the medal around his neck with his fingers. "Should've probably put two and two together. But that just goes to show you how much I really pay attention - something my wife can most certainly attest to."

The crowd laughed as Harry smirked, a hand braced on the edge of the podium. "I was asked to present the Order of Merlin - Second Class - tonight to a recipient tonight who I am most certain is deserving of it, even though he'll never believe otherwise." Draco felt Harry lock eyes with him, and a nervous lump crept up into his throat. Ginny held onto Draco's arm, beaming back at her husband. "I am proud to give this award tonight to a man who has truly risen above and become someone his entire upbringing went against. He now works tirelessly as a lawyer, promoting equality with his job at the Ministry and giving help to anyone who needs it. He is someone who takes pride in what he accomplishes, and truly carries the desire to do good for our wizarding world and has been, unbeknownst to all of you here."

"I'm going to kill your husband," Draco said under his breath to Ginny, who merely laughed.

"This is your moment, Draco," Ginny whispered. "Whether you want it or not."

"On a personal note - this man has become a dear friend of mine. My children adore him and I would trust him with their lives. He's been there for my wife when I haven't been able to be..." Harry's voice began to throttle with emotion as he did his best to swallow it. "He's become an honorable man that I am incredibly proud to call my friend. Please join me in congratulating this years inductee of the Order of Merlin - Second Class, to Draco Malfoy."

The crowd gasped, clapping coming from those on stage, from Blaise, Pansy, and Ginny as others slowly joined in applause. With a loud wolf whistle from Blaise and a nudge from Ginny, Draco made his way towards the stage as the applause grew louder. Cautiously walking up the stage, Neville extended his hand to shake his, which he returned before shaking Ron's as well. Hermione stood next to Harry, wringing her hands together as Harry placed the medal around Draco's neck. They gave each other a strong handshake before pulling each other into a hug, causing the photographers and reporters to spin off in a frenzy.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this," Draco said as they let go.

"I knew you wouldn't have come," Harry replied.

Draco looked to Hermione, who was beaming with pride. "Did you know about this?"

She shook her head no. Summoning her Gryffindor courage, Hermione flashed him a wicked grin before she grabbed a hold of his tie, playfully yanked him towards her. Her free arm found its way around his neck as he leaned into her, their lips catching each other. Stunned, he quickly rebounded, his hands pressed into her back as he dipped her backwards, kissing her as if there was no one else watching. The pair were completely deaf to the crowd that was currently going wild with whistles, applause, and cheers, blind to the incessant flashes of bulbs from the photographers who would be plastering the photo on the front pages of their newspaper for weeks to come.

"That will most certainly give people something to talk about," Hermione said, out of breath as the two broke away.

Draco gently pulled her upright, still holding on to her. "I love you."

She rubbed her lip-gloss from his lips with her thumb. "I love you more."

"I've told you, that's entirely not possible."

Laughing, Hermione stared at the man she couldn't wait to marry and playfully pushed a finger into his chest. "I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree."

"For now, anyway," Draco replied with a cheeky grin.

The group on stage posed with Kingsley for several group shots before retreating from the stage. Congratulations came from everyone in the crowd, willingly shaking Draco's hand, along with everyone else as the crowd became to dissipate through out the street to enjoy the rest of the party throughout the evening. Draco felt himself becoming overwhelmed by all of the people, mostly their support as there wasn't a sneer in sight. They found their friends in the crowd, and the large group stood together as the crowds continued to meander about instead of tightly congregating in the streets.

"Luna!" Hermione exclaimed. "How have you been!"

"Oh, I'm good," she said, her voice light and airy. "Just continuing my search for a crumple-horned snorkack. They're slippery creatures to find, you know. They always seem to know when someone is coming."

Hermione laughed, looking over at Neville who shrugged his shoulders. "McGonagall offered her a teaching position at Hogwarts next year regarding magical creatures," Neville said. "Me too - I'm going to be the new Herbology teacher."

"Neville that's fantastic!" Ginny exclaimed. "Good on you!"

"Thanks," Neville said, his pale cheeks blushing at the praise.

Draco looked at Neville and gave him a polite nod. "I'm sure you will do well."

"Uh, thanks, Malfoy," Neville replied. "Congratulations by the way - on the engagement and all."

Hermione beamed at Draco before returning the grin to Neville. "Thanks, Neville."

"Are we seriously going to stand around and talk or can we go and get pissed?" Pansy interjected in a brassy manner.

Draco laughed. Blaise was right - old Pansy, for the most part, was back. Ron threw his head down towards the Three Broomsticks. "I'm all for getting pissed," Ron stated.

"Here here!" Blaise chimed in, clapping a hand on Draco's shoulder. "You in?"

Draco looked to Hermione, who looked to Harry and Ginny. "Well?" Hermione asked.

"Why not?" Harry said.

"Let's go then!" Pansy exclaimed with a scoff, grabbing Ron's arm to get the group moving.

Moving through the crowd, Hermione lazily linked her arm with Draco's as they walked behind everyone else. Pansy and Ron were leading the group, heatedly arguing about who knows what. Blaise already announced that the first two rounds of fire whiskey were on him, to which Neville was heard mumbling that he didn't know if he could survive one round - let alone two. Harry and Ginny held hands whispering in each other's ears as they said hello to passersby who called out to them. Luna was Luna - wandering aimlessly yet managed to keep up with the group as they entered The Three Broomsticks.

"What do you think about that?" Draco asked, pointing to Pansy and Ron as they perched themselves next to each other a large round table to accommodate them all.

Hermione shrugged. "I guess it depends on what he decides to do with Lavender. What do you think about it?"

"I don't hate it," Draco said begrudgingly. "But you know how I feel about Weasley."

"Remove me from the equation," Hermione instructed. "Just look at the two of them and nothing else."

Draco huffed, but did as he told while the others clamored around the table. "I guess don't hate it as much as I did before."

"Honestly, Draco."

"Pansy needs someone to boss around," Draco interjected before Hermione could lecture him. "In some odd way, it could have potential."

Smiling, Hermione pinched his chin with her thumb and forefinger. "Was that so hard?"

"Excruciating," Draco replied, channeling his inner Severus Snape.

Hermione rolled her eyes, pulling on his hand as they approached the group. Blaise and a waitress appeared with shots of fire whiskey for everyone, passing them around the table. "Alright then - what are we toasting to?"

"New friends?" Ron asked, stealing a glance at Pansy before she could notice.

"New lives?" Neville proposed.

"I imagine there's a lot of wrackspurts floating around in here," Luna commented.

Harry looked at her inquisitively, shaking his head with a smile before hosting his shot in the air. "To life."

"And love," Ginny added.

"And friendship," Hermione interjected.

"Fuckin' hell - cut the sentimental crap and throw back!" Pansy exclaimed, tossing the fire whiskey down her throat and slamming the glass down on the table as she called the waitress back. Everyone laughed, following suit as the glasses clapped back down on the table. Hermione made a bitter face as she swallowed, just as Ginny did. The boys didn't seem to phased by it, but that didn't shock the girls. Luna's shot still sat in front of her, untouched. "Luna - drink up," Pansy instructed.

"No thank you," Luna replied. "It creates more wrackspurts."

"What the fuck is this wrackspurt thing you keep mentioning?" Pansy asked.

"Don't get her started," Ron replied. "Just keep drinking."

Pansy reached across the table and took Luna's shot, swallowing it in one gulp before sliding the empty glass with the rest of them in the middle of the table. "Who's up for another?"

Pansy, Blaise, and Ron stuck to fire whiskey while the others stuck to butterbeer. They stood around, visiting with each other until the bar became too crowded for Draco's comfort. With the party consuming the entire street, he took his butterbeer in its disposable cup and made his way out of the pub, Hermione following suit after telling Harry and Ginny where she was headed. Her fingers laced with his as she caught up with them, the air outside refreshing as the inside of the pub was warm from the crowd. Older kids zoomed through the streets holding sparklers, laughing as they played tag with each other. It was nearly nightfall, the spring breeze cool against Hermione's shoulders. Draco shed his jacket coat, draping it around Hermione as they walked.

"Such a gentleman," Hermione teased.

"Only to you," Draco promised. He sighed as he took her hand while they walked.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "When Harry said earlier that you'd done things for the world that no one was aware of…he wasn't just talking about your career, was he?"

Draco shook his head no. Finishing the last of his butterbeer, he tossed the cup into the nearest receptacle and motioned to the alley with his hand. "I fixed this."

"This…"

"Diagon Alley," Draco replied. "Or well, I financed it anyway. It was the first thing I did when the war was over. The alley was in disarray, Kingsley was talking about having a fundraiser of sorts to help rebuild areas that had been most damaged by the war…and I just wrote him a check."

Her eyes went wide. "Draco…I mean, wow."

"No one knows," he said quickly. "And I want it to stay that way. I also financed the repairs to the castle that weren't mendable with magic. I don't care if you know - obviously - but no one else knows and they don't need to."

Hermione nodded. Draco certainly didn't do it for the glory, which was very un-Malfoy like given his family history. "You're a good man, Draco Malfoy."

"You might be a bit biased," he teased.

"Either way - it's the truth," Hermione honestly replied.

They leisurely strolled down the alley, enjoying the company of each other and as they watched the people, most of which were watching them. They walked back up the alley when they ran into Harry and Ginny, giggling like children who shared a delicious secret. The four of them continued to stroll when a reporter, carrying a camera as a floating quill and paper scroll, approached them followed.

"Hi - I'm Ingrid Brownstone," the young girl said, pushing the thick-rimmed glasses she wore back on the bridge of her nose. "I've taken over the Rita Skeeter's column in The Daily Prophet. I was wondering if I could do a story on you."

"Who?" Harry asked.

"You," Ingrid replied, pointing to Hermione and Draco.

Hermione politely smiled. "I'm sorry, dear, but I don't do interviews."

"Oh I didn't want to interview you," Ingrid said quickly. "I was made well aware of the rules regarding you four and requesting interviews by my editor when I was hired. But I also didn't want to anger you if I wrote about you in the newspaper."

Ginny placed a hand on her hip. "A journalist with integrity from TheDailyProphet. You're a far cry from that hag, Skeeter."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Ingrid said timidly.

"You should," Harry replied.

Draco cleared his throat. "As long as it's not uh, blasphemous…I guess I don't see the harm."

Ingrid's blue eyes lit up. "Thank you so much, Mr. Malfoy. And I would of course, never write anything malicious."

"You sure about this?" Hermione asked Draco.

"She looks harmless enough," Draco replied. "You have my blessing, Ms. Brownstone." The young reporter - who looked barely old enough to be out of Hogwarts - thanked him again before scurrying off to write her story. Hermione still felt slightly uneasy about the entire idea, but Draco draped an arm around her shoulders and she reached up to hold his hand. "She isn't going to be the first to ask," he told her. "Mother mentioned maybe doing an interview before the wedding. If she does a decent job…maybe we could let her do it."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Who are you and what have you done with my fiancé?"

Harry and Ginny laughed. "It's probably the fire whiskey talking," Harry joked.

Draco chuckled. "Maybe. I guess we'll just have to wait and see in the morning."

Draco woke up first the next morning, his internal clock going off earlier than he would have liked. Lightly, he pressed a kiss to Hermione's temple before carefully scrawling out bed. Clad only in his boxers, he lumbered down the stairs, yawning so big his face hurt. His wand in hand, he flicked them at the drapery in the living room to block out the sunlight he wasn't ready for when he found Blaise passed out on his couch, face down, his wand on the coffee table. Z sat on the back of the couch, staring at the passed out drunk as if she was keeping watch over him, despite being clearly unimpressed by the situation. A loud snore came from Blaise, assuring Draco that he was in fact, still breathing.

He stumbled upon Jori in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee. "Mister Draco sees his friend on the couch?" Jori asked, about as impressed as the kneazle.

"Yeah, I saw him," Draco said through a yawn. "I didn't hear him come in, though."

"Jori doesn't know how Mister Draco didn't hear - Mister Draco's friend made ridiculous amounts of noise. Jori doesn't want Mister Draco and Missus Hermione to wake up of course, so Jori stunned him and levitated him to the couch. Too much fire whiskey, Jori assumes."

Draco laughed, grabbing today's paper off of the counter. "Jori assumes correctly." He flipped through TheDailyProphetuntil he found what he was looking for. Blinking his eyes into focus, he sat down at the kitchen island and began to read.

The End of the Second Wizarding War: Five Years Later, a Fairytale Emerges

Commentary by: Ingrid Brownstone, The Daily Prophet Intern

When I was little, my father used to tell me what all fathers tell their daughters - fairytales. Being incredibly practical at a young age, I used to think these fairytales were unrealistic in reality. But my father would tell me to have a little faith - because sometimes all a person needs in life is love with a splash of luck on the side. Of course, my father's two sickles worth of advice isn't really worth anything to anyone but myself, but that's another story for another day.

Yesterday, my belief in fairytales was renewed as I watched Hermione Granger grab a hold of Draco Malfoy's tie with gusto before planting the most romantic kiss I'd ever witnessed in my life on a man she's decided to spend the rest of her life with. Everyone knows the history of Hermione Granger, along with her friends Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, and how when they weren't figuring out how to defeat Voldermort, they often clashed with Draco Malfoy, a pureblood wizard with pureblood beliefs. Watching the two of them last night almost made me feel as if I was an intruder, peeping through the windows of their guarded relationship. Yet as I watched, unable to tear my eyes away from the emotion I was witnessing, I realized that this was what my father was talking about. The most unlikely pair in the universe found their way to one another with a little bit of luck, and now they were surrounded by love. Love for each other, love from their friends, and everything else was but a distant memory.

It was hard not to watch the two the rest of the evening. How they looked at each other, how they held on to one another. It was if they were in their own little world, not caring who could see them because to them, no one else mattered. The pair may never give an interview about their life after the war, or their relationship. For a reporter who would die at the chance to interview them, I respect their decision if for no other reason than after what I witnessed, I realized they were the true definition of love conquering all. For those who read this newspaper, I implore all of you to join with me as I wish the two of them a sincere happily ever after.

"Did Mister Draco like the article written about him?"

Draco smiled. "It was cute. Hermione will like it."

"Of course," Jori replied, bringing Draco a cup of coffee. "Mister Draco must let the coffee cool so it doesn't - "

"Fuck!"

"…Burn his tongue," Jori timidly finished.

Draco set the coffee down and rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "It's not your fault, Jori."

"Jori tried to warn Mister Draco - "

"I know," he said, cutting her off with a gentle pat on her head. "It's my fault."

A popping sound echoed in the kitchen as Harry and James appeared, holding a box of muffins. "See - that wasn't so bad," Harry said to James, who looked a little pale. "I'm trying to get him used to side apparation."

James took a few deep breaths like Draco had seen Harry teach him, before breaking out into a grin. "I didn't throw up!" he exclaimed. Draco and Harry laughed as Harry set him down on top of the counter. "I can't wait to tell Mum!"

"She'll definitely be proud," Harry replied. "Did you see the Prophet?"

Draco held up the paper. "Just a puff piece, like I assumed."

"She seems to have potential," Harry stated.

"She does," Draco replied. A loud snore, echoed in the next room, catching the attention of Harry and James. "Blaise."

Harry laughed. "Interesting."

"Merlin knows why he's here," Draco said. "You should go wake him up, James."

A mischievous smirk crossing his face, James jumped down from the counter, tiptoeing into the living room to peer at the passed out Blaise. Picking up Blaise's wand, he gently poke him in the arm as he exhaled another snore. "Mister Blaise…" James sang quietly while Draco and Harry snickered quietly from the hallway. "Mister Blaise…" he sang louder, jabbing him harder with the wand.

Blaise grumbled, his eyes squeezed shut as he waived off whatever was touching him.

James looked at Draco and Harry, who encouraged him to keep going. Giggling, James put down Blaise's wand and got really close to Blaise's ear. "MISTER BLAISE!" he screeched.

Blaise leapt up off of the couch, completely disoriented as he wobbled on his feet. Draco was howling, while Harry laughed so hard he had to move his glasses to wipe away the tears. "What! Wait! What! I'm up!" he bumbled around, trying to gain his bearings. His eyes focused on James, who was smirking just like his father. "What are you doing? How did you get here?"

"How did you get here?" James questioned. "You don't live here."

Blaise saw Draco and Harry bowled over in laughter and scowled. Digging a hand into his pocket, he pulled out two galleons and shoved them into James' hands. "You two are fucking assholes."

Draco and Harry only laughed harder, Draco collapsing onto the floor as Hermione walked down the stairs in her pink nightdress. Hands perched on the banister halfway down the stairs; she took one look at the scene below her and retreated back to their room. "You people are ridiculous," she said.

"Sorry, dear!" Draco shouted between his laughter.

"Yeah, yeah," Hermione's voice trailed down to them. What they couldn't see was the smirk her tired face wore as she returned back to bed, curling up on Draco's side of the bed. This was her life - and it was more than she could have ever asked for.