Author's Note: I know…a month is far too long. I promise it won't happen again. In fact, there are only three chapters and an epilogue until this is finished, so I will do my very best to get it done quickly! Thank you for your continued support and reading! I now have a writer page on Facebook: DustNight Fanfiction so feel free to check that out. Also, I have lovely new cover art thanks to the magnificent Freya Ishtar! When you're finished reading and reviewing, you should hop over to her profile and check out her Loki/Hermione/Bucky triad fic entitled, "Bewitched By You". Damn. It's fantastic. And, as always, a huge shout out to Tina, I don't know what I would do without her as a beta reader on this project! Anyways, sorry for hitting you with the feels last chapter and leaving you hanging…Enjoy some more! ;)

Disclaimer: All non-original characters, plot points, and information belongs to those at Marvel Studios, Warner Brothers, or J.K. Rowling. The title, "Wolves without Teeth" comes from the song of the same title by the fantastic Of Monsters and Men. The cover photo was created for me by the lovely Freya Ishtar. The story plot and dialogue belongs to me. I do not write for profit.

Full Summary: In the age old fight of good versus evil, two souls converge in a battle to stop the end of all worlds. With the universe crumbling around them, Loki and Hermione find themselves connected by more than just their magical abilities. A myth becomes reality when an old foe comes tearing through the realms seeking revenge upon those who wronged him. What will happen when Loki and Hermione discover there's much more to their connection than meets the eye? Will they be forced to sacrifice everything they've ever wanted in order to save the nine realms or will love prevail?

Wolves without Teeth
Pairing: Hermione Granger/Loki Laufeyson
Rating: M (Rated Mature for adult language, violence, and sexual situations)
Part Fifteen: Repercussions
Song Recommendations: "Human" by Christina Perri, "Hurricane" by Thirty Seconds to Mars, "Say Something" by A Great Big World, and "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap

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"Our fate lies in the hands of things we love,

and sometimes the things we love are the things

that lead us to the destruction of ourselves."
— r.m. drake
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Repercussions

The fireplace burst to life, igniting the small living room with green light. Ron Weasley stepped out of the flames. A strong feeling of déjà-vu overtook him as he strode over to the couch where Hermione lie curled on her side. Her legs were pulled up to her chest, and a crumpled newspaper was clutched in her hands. The witch stared straight ahead; her tangled curls fanned out on the cushion behind her head. Eyeing her carefully, Ron slid an empty teacup out of the way before sitting down on the sturdy coffee table.

Hermione's eyes briefly flickered to his sad, blue ones before returning to where she'd been gazing before—the bookshelf. Relaxing her grip on the newspaper in her hand, she thrust it towards her ex and longtime best friend before curling further into herself to try to alleviate the pain she felt in her chest. She swallowed roughly, her throat feeling blocked by the heart that was threatening to tear its way out of her body.

Ron gave her another once over before dropping his gaze to read the headline on the front page of the Prophet.

"Draco Malfoy killed in battle! Fenrir has returned!"

Standing from the coffee table, Ron returned to the fireplace and tossed the treacherous newspaper into the flames, relishing at the crackle and pop the blasted thing made as it burned into nothingness. Then, he returned to the couch he and Hermione purchased when they first moved into the flat all those years ago.

"You need to get cleaned up, Hermione. The names have begun appearing on the list. Do you need help getting into the bathroom?"

Ron's heart clenched when she merely squeezed her eyes shut and nodded as if she were in pain, and she probably was. She'd had her fair share of heartache over the years. One would think she'd be able to cope by now, but he suspected this time was different. This time she'd not only lost Draco, someone who she'd loved for over a decade, but Loki as well; the one she was bound to, her supposed soulmate. As long as she didn't go spiraling off down into another bout of depression, they would be alright. They would be able to help her through this ordeal. If she succumbed to the darkness within, well, there was no telling what would happen this time.

Shuffling forward, Ron helped Hermione up from the couch, wrapping one arm around her waist and waiting until she was steady before letting go. Even then, he still kept his hand close to her lower back in case she collapsed. From his experience with Hermione's emotional benders, anything was possible. Luckily, it was still early stages, the battle having only been twenty hours ago at this point. With very few hours left until Draco's Will revealed itself, Ron had a lot to get done. He needed to make sure Hermione got cleaned up, dressed, and then he had to escort her to Malfoy Manor where they would await the reading of the Will. Hopefully, in that timeframe, he could convince her to eat something and open up about what was going on in her head. Getting her to open up was the hard part. She always held everything in until she either did something rash, or disappeared. He wasn't sure which one was worse.

Helping Hermione to the bathroom, he set her down on the closed toilet and then looked around. Finding a clean towel, he set it near the bathtub before turning the water on for the shower. Looking back at Hermione, he frowned, an ache in his chest. Still wearing her clothes from the day before, she was covered in dried blood and mud. Ron reached forward and squeezed her shoulder, trying not to flinch when her haunted eyes blinked at him.

"I'm going to leave you to it. I'll make some tea, okay?"

She nodded once so he left the room, closing the door behind him. He waited until he heard her moving around inside, undressing, before sighing with relief and heading back towards the kitchen. He immediately set about filling the kettle and getting it onto the stove. Then, he moved to her teacup cupboard (yes, she had that many), and faltered. Stepping backwards, Ron stared at the teacups on the shelves, trying to select two that wouldn't remind her too much of Draco. Finally deciding on two plain, white teacups, he set them on the counter and readied them with teabags. Then, turning to lean against the sturdy counter, he withdrew his phone from his back pocket and selected Harry's number. His friend answered on the second ring.

"Ron?"

"Yeah."

"It's bad, isn't it?"

"I haven't seen her like this in years, Harry. It was like walking back in time…only this time she was covered in blood." He rubbed a hand over his weary face, trying to get the images of the past twenty-four hours out of his head.

"How bad are we talking here, Ron?"

"Shit…," he sighed, glancing down at the white teacups waiting to be filled. "I'd say 2006 bad, but it's different, Harry. This time it's like she's dead inside, like something's broken."

"She just lost Draco and possibly Loki. I can't even begin to imagine how she's feeling." On the other end of the line, Harry answered a question Ron couldn't hear before saying, "Look, my name's been revealed on the list too, so I'm heading over to the Manor shortly. I'm going to take Albus and James with me so Scorpius has someone to play with while they wait until the reading of the Will. When are you going to bring her there?"

"She's in the shower now, so as soon as she's ready, and I force her to have some tea and a sandwich." Just as he finished saying this, the kettle began to whistle so he removed it from the stove and poured the hot water into the two cups.

"Good. That's—that's good. Look, our goal is to make sure she gets through this. We don't need her spiraling out of control like she did back then…that was a disaster and a half. She even admits it was her version of rock bottom, but Ron—I'm at a loss what to do this time."

"You and me both, mate. You and me both." Canting his head, Ron determined that the shower had turned off. "It sounds like she's done in the shower, so I'm going to go. I'll see you at the Manor in an hour or so."

"Okay. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

When Harry hung up, Ron pocketed his phone and set about removing the tea bags from the cups. He was just about to add a bit of milk and sugar to Hermione's when he heard the bathroom door open. He didn't hear anything else for a tick and then there was a sob. Immediately dropping the spoon onto the counter, he turned and exited the small kitchen, starting down the hall to find Hermione standing in front of the bathroom door. She was wrapped in the towel he left for her, but her hair was dripping wet, and she was sobbing, arms clutching at her waist.

"Ro-n." His name came out fractured, and he found his feet moving of their own accord until he was standing in front of his long-time friend. He grabbed her bare shoulders, smoothing his thumbs over her damp skin to try to soothe her. He hated to see her cry—it broke his heart.

"Hermione—what is it? What's wrong?"

"I can't—"

"You can't what? I need more than that."

"I don't have anything to wear, and I can't go in my room…we…he and I…I told him…in there."

"What," he started to question again, but decided against it as she broke down crying, her body shaking from the force behind her tears. "Never mind, Hermione. You wait here okay. I'll be right back."

Leaving her standing there, Ron hurried to her room and glanced around. The bed was in disarray, and he couldn't stop to think what happened there yesterday. Despite being fully committed to Pansy, the thought of Hermione with another man still irked him. Taking a deep breath, Ron made quick work of grabbing a pair of jeans, a grey jumper, socks, and undergarments from Hermione's dresser before exiting the room once more. He shut the door behind him, hoping she'd feel better not having to look inside. He found her sitting on the toilet again, silent tears rolling down her flushed cheeks.

"Here," he muttered, setting the clothing on the bathroom counter. "Go ahead and get dressed. I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready." She nodded silently, so he returned to the kitchen.

Deciding a sandwich was probably never going to get eaten by her, he popped two pieces of bread into the toaster and then went back to preparing her tea. A quick wave of his wand warmed the cooling liquid just as Hermione entered the kitchen and sat herself down at the small table. She'd managed to dry her hair, and it hung limply about her shoulders as she stared wide-eyed up at him. He said nothing as he set the tea in front of her, hoping she wouldn't start crying again. She smiled softly before picking up the cup and taking a sip. Ron let out a sigh of relief, almost jumping when the toaster popped.

"I made you some toast, Hermione." He glanced over his shoulder at her as he pulled the hot bread out of the Muggle appliance. "Do you want butter and jam?" She nodded so he went about making it just the way he remembered her liking it. Finally ready, he grabbed his cup of tea and the plate before sliding into the chair across from her. He pushed the plate towards her, praying she wouldn't fight him on eating. Luckily, she set aside her tea and gently picked up a slice of the jam slathered bread.

"Thank you, Ron—for everything. Not just the tea and toast." She bit into her meal, hating the way her chest ached, but knowing she had to eat or Ron would worry.

"You know I'd do anything for you." Rubbing his hands over his face, Ron sighed heavily. "What a mess this is, right?"

"It is."

"I don't want to ask, but I feel like I have to, you know?" She simply lifted an eyebrow at that, so taking a deep breath; he inquired, "Are you alright? How bad is it?" His mind couldn't help flashing back to how she was after her break from Draco. It'd been a long time, but there was still a chance she could relapse into old habits. He couldn't imagine her being able to come back from it all this time. The disappearances, the forgetting to eat, to sleep, the destructive behavior and relationships. He had to know what they were dealing with. Would he have to move back in with her? Would she have to move in with him and Pansy or Harry and Ginny?

"I can tell you're worried about me, Ron; however, I'll be fine." Ron opened his mouth to reply, but she held up her hand, not quite finished yet. "I'm overwhelmed, of course. That I can't deny, but I'll manage. I'm not going to do anything rash. This time, it's different—this time there's nothing to go back to. Draco is gone and Loki…he's…" Her breath hitched and Hermione found she was unable to go on. Instead, she glanced away to hide the tears in her eyes.

It hurt to think about Loki, about the love that she still felt for him even after what he'd done to Draco. She knew now that it was all the working of the Rime Diamonds. It just had to be. She knew there was no way she could love someone who murdered her friends without a second thought. There was no way she could love someone who betrayed her trust and her heart. Draco was dead. He was gone, and Loki was to blame. The anguish and sadness she felt currently was both a mixture of mourning for her ex-lover and punishment from the Rime Diamonds for severing her ties with Loki. Unconsciously, she reached up to wrap a hand around the ring at her throat, annoyed to find it still warmed to her touch, and angry to find that she still fucking cared so damn much.

"Never mind about Loki, Ron. I'll find a way to get through this."

Ron nodded and gestured for her to finish her tea and toast. Struggling, she somehow managed to do just that, and then sat silently as he cleared the table. Her anxiety began to increase as she watched Ron wash their cups and her plate. When he finished, she knew they would have to leave—have to head to the Manor for the reading of the Will. She wasn't sure she was quite ready for that yet. Her heart ached for the loss of her friend and ex-lover, and she didn't know when, if ever, she would be ready to face the reality of it all, but there was no hiding from this. No, this time there was no running away from her feelings. When Ron finally finished cleaning up, he walked back to her side and held out his hand. Looking at it for a moment, she slid her palm against her friend's and allowed him to pull her up.

Silently, they made their way to the fireplace where Ron grabbed a handful of floo-powder and waited for Hermione to get inside. Once they were both situated, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, threw down the powder, and shouted, "Malfoy Manor!" In a swirl of green flames, they disappeared, swept off to learn the final wishes of their longtime friend, Draco Malfoy.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Arriving in the study of Malfoy Manor, Hermione cringed, echoes of past events in this room making it difficult to breathe. As if knowing this, Ron wrapped his hand around her wrist and guided her out into the hall, away from it all. Keeping her eyes cast downwards, she let him lead her through the halls until they arrived at the library. Stopping in the open doorway, Ron dropped her hand, so she wrapped her arms around herself to try to keep from falling apart. In the middle of the large space, Harry stood talking quietly with Astoria. Lady Malfoy looked just as elegant as she always did, even though her husband was just barely twenty-four hours dead. Already she was wearing all black in mourning from the blouse and slacks she donned to the gems that adorned her necklace.

Sitting off to the side by the fireplace, Narcissa Malfoy was in much the same sort of attire. She sipped a tumbler of whiskey as she watched the flames in the grate. The elder Lady Malfoy took no notice of the new arrivals, but Astoria did. Her eyes flashed first in irritation and then empathetically as they rested on Hermione's face. Unsure what to do, Hermione walked forward to meet the woman halfway at the same time Harry and Ron wandered off. The two stood staring at one another for a brief moment before Hermione took a shuddering breath.

"Oh, Astoria…I'm so very sorry for your loss." She couldn't stop the tears that formed in her eyes, so she merely wiped messily at them with the back of her hand. To her surprise, Astoria grabbed her hands in her own cold ones.

"Hermione…thank you. Harry told me everything, and I appreciate what you did." She squeezed Hermione's hands lightly. "He told me how you tried to stop the bleeding, and then—and then how you fought Loki for what he'd done."

"I'm just so sorry, Astoria. I didn't know he was a—that he'd been bitten. If I'd known beforehand. If he and Loki just told me going in—"

"I lived with him all that time and never knew, so how could any of you? Thank you for standing up for him. He would have appreciated that, you know."

Staring at Astoria, Hermione's heart broke all over again. Here was this woman thanking her for what she'd done after Loki killed her husband, when she was the entire reason he was dead. If Draco hadn't still loved her as much as he did, if he'd only just loved Astoria the way in which a husband was meant to love a wife, then maybe he'd still be here. This entire fiasco was Hermione's fault. She should have let him go years ago, and now Draco was dead and everything was in shambles. Before Hermione had a chance to respond, Harry and Ron returned with Scorpius in tow.

The young boy wasn't even eleven yet, wouldn't start Hogwarts until the fall, and already he had so much on his plate. How horrible for him to lose his father before one of the most significant events of his life? The four adults watched as he wandered over to stand by the windows that overlooked the apple orchards. He placed one hand on the glass; head bowed as he mourned the loss of his father. Astoria didn't even bother to scold him about leaving fingerprints of the pristine surface. Having to look away, Hermione was startled to find Blaise Zabini waiting in the doorway.

The dark-skinned Italian sauntered into the library, his briefcase in hand and a somber look upon his normally cheerful face. He spoke quietly to Ron and Harry before moving more fully into the room where Hermione still stood with Astoria. Placing a hand on the widow's shoulder, he sighed heavily, the gesture appearing to take a lot out of the man.

"Astoria, I am truly very sorry. Draco was like a brother to me; he will be sorely missed."

"Thank you, Blaise."

Nodding she excused herself to go over and talk quietly with Narcissa, leaving Blaise alone with Hermione. The two of them stood silently, both unsure what exactly to say next. Hermione had forgotten that Blaise became the Malfoy Solicitor at some point over the past seven years. Breaking the silence, Hermione tucked a stray curl behind her ear before peering at his face.

"Blaise. It's been quite some time. I hope you're well."

Dropping his professionalism momentarily, he pulled her in for a one-armed hug, his chin resting on top of her head. "Hermione, il mio amore. You must be feeling terribly." Blaise placed a kiss upon her curls before letting her go so he could stare down into her face, so full of sadness. Whispering, his voice dropped so that only she would hear, "I am terribly sorry about your loss, as well. I can't even begin to fathom what you're going through right now. I know just how much Draco meant to you, even after all this time."

Unable to speak from holding back her tears, Hermione merely bit her lip and nodded in reply. Taking the time she needed, she managed to get herself under some semblance of control before replying to her dear friend. After a deep breath, and a mental check on exactly who was in the room here with her, Hermione was finally able to speak.

"Thank you so much, Blaise. That means a lot, coming from you." Stepping back from Hermione, he sighed, a sad smile gracing his lips as he recalled their past. After all, it was Hermione's love for Draco that eventually led to their break-up back in the day. Not wanting to dwell upon the past, Hermione decided to ask about another of her old flames. "How is Theo? Has he heard?"

"He's heard, yes. He's devastated like the rest of us, but trying to be brave. So, of course he's taken off to Egypt for a few days to clear his head." Running a hand over his short hair, Blaise sighed. "I expect he'll be back for the funeral, though."

Knowing the end to a conversation when she heard it, Hermione allowed Blaise to make his way away from her and towards the desk in the middle of the room. Scattered around the desk were a myriad of chairs and two small sofas. Narcissa remained on her chair by the fire while Astoria sat on the sofa next to her. Harry moved past Hermione to sit in a chair close to the desk. Stepping up to her, Ron placed his hand at the small the small of Hermione's back before guiding her towards the other sofa. He joined her as she gingerly sat down, her eyes on the magical briefcase Blaise set on the desk. She could feel the magic radiating outwards from the documents inside. Draco's final Will and Testament was held within, and she knew it was time to face whatever he left for all of them.

Clearing his throat, Blaise asked, "Are we ready to begin?"

"Scorpius, love?" Astoria called out to her son, and they all watched as his small shoulders sagged. His hand dropped from the window as he turned and made his way to sit by his mother. Suddenly, Hermione was struck by just how much Scorpius looked like Draco at that age. It was like looking back in time; only in this case, instead of a sneer, the boy wore a deep frown. Hermione averted her eyes as he passed by, unconsciously reaching out to intertwine her hand with Ron's.

"Right then," Blaise began, unclipping the front the briefcase. Hermione winced from the sound, both anticipating and dreading what was to come. "We're gathered here today for the reading of Draco Lucius Malfoy's last Will and Testament. Each of your names has been called forth because Draco has left something for you after his passing. I must admit; I was a bit surprised when Draco came to me last week wanting to change parts of his Will, but after what has come to pass, it all makes sense."

Sharing a side-glance with Ron, Hermione pursed her lips, wondering why exactly Draco had wanted to change his Will. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain Narcissa could hear it above the crackling of the fire, but she tried to remain calm. It would not do well to lose her composure. When she tuned back in, Blaise was already reading through the legalities of the process. When he was finished explaining these, he swallowed and nodded once, withdrawing a rolled scroll of parchment from inside the case. Hermione's mouth went dry—this was it.

"I will now read from this scroll, which was written by Draco and notarized by myself. Are there any questions before I begin?" When no one spoke up, Blaise proceeded.

"First and foremost, I would like to apologize to each and every one of you for lying—for keeping such a large secret from you. As you know, by now, I was bitten by Fenrir Greyback, the Great Wolf, and transformed into a werewolf. I won't bore you with the details, but I used this opportunity to the best of my ability in order to save you. I am unsure whether or not I was successful, but I can only hope that the future does not look so bleak anymore. Most importantly, I want you to know that my death was no accident, and it was most certainly not murder. It was calculated, and it was planned. I asked for death to take me so I would not be a burden, a danger, to anyone anymore. I have extracted my memories of the agreement that was made and encased them in this phial if anyone ever wishes to observe them."

At this, Blaise extracted said phial from inside the case. Hermione watched as the memory inside swirled and twisted, reflecting the firelight and making her wonder exactly what memory it was. Was it from the day he came and asked to talk to Loki alone? Was Loki telling the truth about everything? If so, why wouldn't he come to her for help? Glancing over at Harry, she found the spectacled man already peering at her, his head tipped to the side as if he too were asking himself the same questions. Idly, she remembered from years before, Professor Dumbledore asking Snape to do just the same—murder him for the sake of the War they were fighting. Placing a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob, Hermione slumped back into the couch knowing she could never watch that memory.

Blaise continued, beginning to read what Draco left for each of them.

"For my mother, I am leaving the deeds for the chateau in Paris, the townhouse in Berlin, and the beachside cabin in Biarritz. I have also included a handwritten letter expressing my sentiments and good-byes."

Blaise withdrew these items from the case and walked them over to Narcissa. She accepted them with poise, setting aside her tumbler of whiskey before standing. Instead of sitting down in her seat when Blaise returned to the desk, she tucked the papers inside her robes and sniffed haughtily.

"Am I needed any longer?" When Blaise simply shook his head, she nodded once before turning and promptly vacating the room, her black robes billowing out behind her. Astoria and Blaise shared a glance before he picked the scroll back up.

"To my wife, Astoria, I leave a quarter of the estate and my inheritance. I am also leaving the deeds to the London townhouse and the villa in Venice. If, in the future, Astoria wishes to remarry, I ask that she chooses one of these two locations to relocate to, for obvious reasons. In the hope that she will one day forgive me, I have written her a letter as well."

Blaise set about handing over the designated documents and envelopes to Astoria, who, at the moment, looked like she'd been smacked across the face. Hermione refrained from staring, as she too was rather shocked at what Draco left to the woman who was his wife all these years. She expected Astoria would have gotten much more, but it seemed Draco did not see it fit to do so.

"To my son, Scorpius, I leave fifty percent of the estate and my inheritance. His own inheritance will come into effect on his eleventh birthday, and this new one will become available when he turns seventeen. I am also leaving him the deeds to the manse in Moscow, the townhouse in Copenhagen, and of course, Malfoy Manor. All responsibilities and duties that come with maintaining the upkeep and protocol of the Manor will become Scorpius's come his graduation from Hogwarts. Until then, these duties will be performed by the staff of the Manor, his mother, and my Solicitor. Scorpius will also receive an envelope today, as well as on each significant day his future holds."

Instead of waiting for Blaise to come to him, young little Scorpius, with his head held high, stood from the sofa where he sat next to his mother and walked forward to accept his papers. He mumbled a quiet thank you before returning to his seat, and Hermione found she couldn't keep her tears at bay any longer. Draco would be so very proud of his son at that moment, taking his responsibly and future so seriously and with the trademark Malfoy pride. With the current Malfoy's business taken care of, that left Harry, Ron, and herself. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. Blaise took up the scroll once more.

"For Mr. Ronald Weasley, I leave ten percent of my estate and inheritance so that he may further expand Weasley's Wizard Wheezes with his brother, George Weasley, and to pay for a wedding most extravagant for Ms. Pansy Parkinson and himself. Instructions and other information are provided in an envelope. I ask that he reads this immediately."

Ron lurched up from the sofa, shock evident on his face, as well as everyone else's in the room. No one in their right mind ever expected Draco Malfoy to leave anything for Ronald Weasley of all people. Meeting Blaise's wide eyes, Ron accepted his envelope before settling in on the sofa once more. Hermione looked away as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying unsuccessfully to hide the tears that formed in his eyes. After a quiet moment, Ron opened the envelope and pulled out the letter from within and began to read his instructions. As he did this, Blaise read out what was left for Harry.

"For Mr. Harry Potter, I am leaving the files of research I compiled on the Great Wolf and the Ragnarok prophecy. Instructions are in an envelope that must also be read immediately."

Harry was up out of his seat before Blaise finished speaking, taking the pile of folders from the desk and then the envelope as well. He returned to his seat and began to read, ignoring the curious stares of both Astoria and Hermione. Hermione was so absorbed in the research sitting on Harry's lap that she nearly missed Blaise reading out her name.

"—Hermione Granger, I leave the deed to the newly renovated flat in New York City, the Cherrywood desk in my office, all the books on the shelf by the fireplace in my study, and a small gift box with accompanying envelope. The books will be boxed up and delivered to her flat no later than forty-eight hours after my death. The gift box and envelope should be opened immediately."

She didn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. In the end, it was Ron who stepped forward and brought her items to her. She sat staring at the box and envelope on her lap like they were going to eat her, just swallow her whole and consume her very being. How silly that she went face to face with Fenrir, and then Loki, just the previous evening, but she was more afraid of opening these two items that she was of fighting those two beings. She was only half listening as Blaise read the final bits of Draco's will.

"Finally, I leave the remaining fifteen percent of my estate and inheritance towards the study for a cure for Lycanthropy. I hope that one day people won't have to suffer and hide from the world because of this ailment. Thank you for coming today, for being such large parts of my life. I wish you only happiness and love, and that you'll remember me not for who I was in the past, or what I became these past few weeks, but as the man I grew to be through the love and friendship you've shown me over the years since the end of the war. I will miss you; I love you, and I hope that we shall meet again someday."

With his task finished, Blaise packed up his briefcase, left the scroll and memory phial on the desk, and walked right out of the library. He made no eye contact as he went, and Hermione suspected he was just as inconsolable as the rest of them. She had no idea how he managed to keep his composure during the entire ordeal. Scorpius and Astoria were the next to leave, quietly shuffling from the room as Hermione continued to stare at the box on her lap. When the Golden Trio was alone, Harry moved from his chair to stand with his two friends. Glancing up, Hermione met his eyes not quite sure what to say.

"What do you think it is," Harry wondered aloud. Sighing, she shook her head.

"I have no idea, to be honest. It could be anything," she breathed, afraid to speak too loudly for some reason.

"Well, are you going to open it," Ron, the ever impatient one questioned.

Tucking her envelope aside, for the time being, Hermione unwrapped the midnight blue paper, revealing a plain brown box. Giving her two friends a curious look, she untucked the top and lifted it open, swallowing before peering inside. Her breath left her in a rush, the room beginning to spin. Shoving the box away, she grabbed for her envelope before standing. Luckily, Harry caught the box before it went crashing onto the floor.

"No." She shook her head, hair whipping from side to side as she did so. "No. I can't do this. I absolutely cannot do any of this."

Harry, wanting to know what upset Hermione so much, looked down at what he held, and blanched. Wordlessly, he passed the box to Ron, who had a similar reaction, only instead of losing it; he set the box aside and moved to encircle Hermione with his arms as she began to cry in earnest.

"Why would he do that? Why would he leave me that of all the things in the world!?" She threw her hands in the air; her envelope still held firmly in her hand.

"He probably didn't mean to make you feel upset, Hermione." Harry tried to speak calmly in an attempt to soothe his friend.

"Didn't mean to upset me!? Draco, of all people, knows the significance of that!" She pointed at the treacherous box, glaring through her tears. Raising his eyebrows, Ron communicated nonverbally with Harry before things got even worse.

"Alright, look…he wrote you a letter too, and after reading mine, I think you should open your own and read it before you come to any more conclusions." Picking up the folders of research Draco left for him, Harry made his way toward the door, only stopping to add, "I'm going to take James and Albus home, but I hope to see you later, or tomorrow."

Ron and Hermione didn't bother to say goodbye, both a bit too worked up over everything. Instead, Hermione stared at the letter in her hand and then over at the box on the desk. Drawing herself up to her full height, she grabbed the box, shoved the envelope inside and marched toward the library door. Ron called out to her just before she reached the hallway.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." Keeping her back towards Ron, she closed her eyes, the ache inside her chest making it difficult to breathe. "I need to be alone when I do this."

Watching her go, Ron plopped down on the chair Harry sat in earlier, a hand coming to scrub at his weary face. Draco bloody Malfoy, he thought. Didn't he understand just how dangerous the repercussions of his actions really were? With one last look at the letter clutched in his own hand, he shook his head and decided he'd better go and tell Pansy she could start planning the wedding of her dreams. After she was done with the mourning process, that is.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Will you stop that insipid pacing?"

Thor rolled his eyes at Loki's request, continuing his back and forth movement across the basement laboratory. It was his turn guarding the Frost Giant, but what he really wanted to be doing was planning their next move. Fenrir had been gone for twenty-four hours now, and they still hadn't gone after him. They were waiting on news from Draco's Will, to see if Loki was indeed telling the truth about the so-called agreement they made. Thor was certain it was all a ruse, set up by Loki so he could kill Hermione's ex-lover, but Wanda seemed to believe the story. And so here they were, waiting for word from Harry or another of the witches and wizards they'd aligned with, while Loki remained chained up on the floor of the lab.

"Brother? Did you hear me? You're driving me mad."

"Shut up, Loki."

"Being crass will not make news of my truth travel any more quickly." Loki adjusted himself on the hard floor, his body aching from both the battle and being handcuffed for an entire day now. When Thor still made no attempt to stop pacing, Loki decided to try another tactic. "I suspect that you've been given guard duty as your allies venture back from whence they came." When Thor stopped and rounded on him, he smirked, his dry lips cracking ever so slightly.

"Not that it is any of your business, but Coulson and Daisy had to get back to the states for an important mission of their own. They could not wait around for useless information about the likes of you." Huffing, Thor resumed the pacing, this time with Mjolnir in hand. Trying to free his wrists for the umpteenth time, without luck, Loki ignored Thor's attempt to shut him up.

"How awful? What will we ever do without them," Loki drawled sarcastically, causing his brother to shoot him an annoyed glare. "I take it Iron Knickers, Green Guy, and Wanda will be leaving soon as well?" With a sigh, Thor stopped and came to sit upon a stool near where Loki was sprawled.

"Stark and Wanda, yes, but Banner will remain. He is still in hiding after what happened in South Africa, and with the government heating up against super humans, it's best he stays here for now."

"Lovely," scoffed Loki. "Just what I need, an around the clock babysitter."

"You brought this upon yourself, Loki." Pointing at him with his hammer, Thor chastised the Jotun, "You promised not to betray all of us, and you've gone back on your word. You will be lucky if you ever see the light of day again in your long, long life. You have also condemned Hermione to a life of imprisonment for your own selfish ways, or have you forgotten the vow she made so that you could accompany us here?"

Slumping back against the wall, Loki swallowed roughly. Indeed, in the heat of the battle, he had forgotten what his beloved promised before they returned to Midgard. If Draco didn't follow through with his end of the agreement, Loki would have to make sure Hermione didn't end up in her wizarding prison. She did not deserve such a fate. In truth, neither of them did, but until Draco's Will was revealed, there was no way to be certain he wouldn't remain a prisoner.

"I have not forgotten…" he lied easily. Thor shook his head, obviously not believing him.

"Tell me, Loki. Why did you do it? Why did you kill him?"

"Because," he sighed. "He was going to kill her. You were there. You saw what was going to happen. Even if Draco hadn't made me vow, I would have killed him to save her anyway." Glancing away from his brother's piercing blue eyes, he breathed, "And I would do it all over again, because—I love her."

"Damn."

"Indeed." Attempting to get comfortable, the chains around his wrists and feet clanked loudly. "No matter what happens with Draco's Will, I will never forget the look of terror upon her face, nor will I regret what I have done so that she could remain living. I may have given up my freedom, my future, but I refused to allow her precious life to be abruptly cut short."

The two brothers were quiet for a time, until a commotion broke out upstairs. This was it; Loki was sure of that. Whoever walked down those stairs held his future in their hands. He prayed it was Hermione, but somehow knew it would not be. His assumptions were confirmed when Harry stepped into view, a crinkled piece of parchment held in his hand. He glanced at Loki for a brief second before turning his full attention to Thor. Thor rose from the stool to stand across from the wizard—Loki held his breath.

"You bring news; I presume?" Thor's voice was uncertain, wary of what he was about to hear.

"Yes," Harry muttered, tossing another glance Loki's way. He fidgeted with the parchment in his hands, giving it a thorough once over before sighing and running his freehand through his floppy mess of dark hair. Thor's movements stilled as he watched the Midgardian wizard, disbelief forming on his face.

"He was telling the truth."

Loki smirked despite the insurmountable relief that flooded through his body. Draco had come through after all, his name was cleared and Hermione would no doubt see what he'd done was all for her and the future of the universe. Remaining calm, he continued to watch the exchange before him.

"He is." Harry handed over the paper for Thor to read himself. "He left me that letter along with a large amount of research. I gave the research to Jane and Darcy to examine. Hermione's a right mess, and I can't imagine she wants anything to do with research at the moment."

"I can imagine." After finishing the letter, Thor handed it back to Harry, who pocketed it. Seeing the troubled look still on the wizard's face, Thor crossed his arms and asked, "There's more?"

"Yes, actually."

"Out with it then."

"I've discussed the situation with Kingsley, the Minister, before coming here. He and I are in agreement with what should be done with him." Gesturing with his head, Harry refused to face the Jotun who'd killed one of his closest friends and ruined his best friend's life. Narrowing his eyes at Harry, Loki found he could no longer keep his tongue.

"Ah yes. What do the mere mortals wish to do to me? Forget that I saved Hermione, let's just throw Loki to the wolves, shall we?"

Within seconds, Harry withdrew his wand and pointed into the sneering face he'd so carefully avoided just a moment ago. Loki lifted his head defiantly, just willing the wizard to do his worst. Harry stared down the length of his wand, anger glinting behind his glasses and making his own green eyes flash dangerously.

"I am no mere mortal, Loki. I may not know as many spells and hexes as Hermione does, but I know enough to maim you if I so feel like it." Sticking the tip of his wand into the soft spot under Loki's chin, he relished when the man finally flinched before pulling back ever so slightly, his wand still remaining in his hand. "You're to return to the dungeons on Asgard where you'll remain until your last breath leaves you."

"I see nothing wrong with that," Thor acknowledged, placing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "What will happen to Hermione?"

"I do not want her to go to that Wizarding prison," Loki spoke up from the floor, his eyes darting to the side so the other two would not see his shame. "She does not deserve such a fate."

"Don't be daft." Shaking his head, Harry scoffed. "I never had any intention of forcing her to fulfill that, and I am sure Thor didn't either."

"I did not. It was noble of her to offer such a fate for herself though. She is a very brave witch with a large heart." Clearing his throat, Thor gestured for Harry to follow him upstairs. "Is there anything else your Minister has asked of us?"

"He would like for you to leave as soon as possible." They began to ascend the stairs, leaving Loki alone.

"This will not be a problem. We can depart for Asgard first thing in the morning."

"Good. I will inform him of your plans."

Before they could get too much further out of sight, Loki decided he'd better act now. If they were to leave in the morning, certainly that meant Hermione would remain behind, especially if they had yet to plan Draco's funeral. Besides, he feared she would not want to plan a future with him after all that happened. He needed to at least hear it from her mouth.

"Potter!"

Stopping, Thor and Harry turned to stare down at Loki, who was still sat against the wall. Gripping the railing tightly in his hand, Harry quirked an eyebrow. "What do you want, Loki? The terms of this agreement are not going to be negotiated. Despite the fact that you killed Draco to save Hermione, you still murdered a prominent wizard, and we do not take lightly to that sort of thing."

"I am not asking for negotiations. I understand what I have done and the repercussions that have come because of it." He tossed his head, his long hair falling back over his shoulders, out of his face.

"Then what is it you want?"

"I wish to see her. One last time, before I go."

Clenching his jaw, Harry shared a glance with Thor, who nodded. Turning towards Loki, he closed his eyes momentarily before opening them again to see Loki staring back hopefully.

"I'll see what I can do."

With that said, Loki was left alone as his brother, and the wizard, returned upstairs. He collapsed against the wall just as the basement went dark. It would be a long time before sleep came to him this night. There was far too much to worry about, and too many emotions rushing through his body to be calm enough to rest. Pain, anguish, sorrow, regret, and just a hint of despair flooded through his veins and there was no way to discern if Loki was feeling his own emotions or Hermione's. With one final prayer to whoever opted to listen that Hermione would agree to see him, he decided to attempt sleep.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Lying on her couch, Hermione stared hatefully at the small cardboard box on her coffee table. She despised what was inside. She wanted to smash it to pieces with her fists until blood dripped from her skin. And yet, at the same time, she wanted to hold it to her chest and cry and thank Draco for this one final gift. It was a gift that he knew meant so very much to her. The thought of Draco painstakingly picking this present for her, all the while knowing his days were limited, took her breath away and brought tears to her eyes. How had he managed to keep this secret for so long? How did he manage to make it through each day leading up to the battle knowing they were his last?

Wrapping her arms around herself tighter, Hermione whimpered as another wave of grief overwhelmed her senses. She'd yet to open his letter and read what he had to say. In fact, the envelope was currently rather crinkled and tear stained as it was gripped tightly in her hand. She'd told Ron she needed to be alone for this part, the final part, but she couldn't bring herself to go through with it at all. It was too final. It was too big of a farewell. Hell, if she couldn't even handle this part, how was she going to survive the funeral? After returning home, she'd planted herself on the couch, fully intending to read the letter and find her closure.

That didn't happen.

Instead, she'd peered inside the box again and fallen to pieces. It brought back too many memories of a past and future forgotten. She'd sat and cried over the little box for hours until finally falling into a fitful sleep sometime around three in the morning. Now, just after seven she found herself still unable to move forward. She was stuck in some sort of emotional limbo—afraid of what her future held. A future without Draco, and now, without Loki as well. Reading the letter would only solidify this fact, and Hermione knew that she would find herself whirling out of control. Perhaps it was best to ignore the letter completely and disappear far away from here.

Wiping her tears with her forearm, Hermione was unsurprised to see her fireplace flicker to life, green flames indicating the arrival of one of her friends. She was surprised; however, to find it was Harry to step out of the fireplace. Normally, it would be Ron to come to her rescue when she was having an emotional crisis. Attempting to sit up, she gulped back a fresh wave of tears as her longtime friend sat down on the couch next to her, his gaze fixated on the box on the coffee table.

"Where's Ron?"

"He thought maybe it was best if I came to see you instead."

She nodded. Ron was always the one to comfort her, while Harry tended to be her voice of reason. If Ron had come, he would have told her just to put away the letter and gift to deal with later. With a defeated sigh, Hermione realized Harry was here to force her to confront her demons and get the hell on with it. There was no getting around it then, so she set aside her crumpled letter and reached for the small box. Inserting her shaking hand inside, she extracted the beautiful gift and placed it on the coffee table, so they could both take a proper look at it.

"A teacup."

"Yes." Closing her eyes, Hermione took a deep breath. "One final teacup for the collection I started back when he and I were forced to separate."

"It's really quite lovely," Harry spoke softly, reaching out tentatively to trace a single finger around the brim.

"It is," she had to agree, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms around them to place her chin on her knees. She smiled gloomily at the teacup which was painted with various flowers and trimmed with silver. It'd been years since she'd added to her collection, and now, well now, she knew she would never add another. This would be her final teacup. "I suppose you're here to make sure I read my letter."

"He did say for you to read it right away, and you haven't."

"I'm afraid."

Wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into a side embrace, Harry mumbled, "There's no reason to be. I imagine he wrote you a beautiful letter with everything he could never tell you before…and a few things that you need to understand about what happened."

"What did your letter say," she asked shyly, peering up at him. He merely shook his head and frowned at her query.

"Exactly what I needed to hear, Hermione. Exactly what I needed to hear." Untangling his arm from around her, Harry reached for her discarded letter and held it within her grasp. "Here, read this while I go and make some tea. I'll be right in the kitchen if you need me, I promise."

Biting her lip, she took the offered envelope and watched as Harry stood and disappeared into her small kitchen, leaving her alone to do what she should have done hours ago—read her letter. Taking a deep breath, she used her finger to open the top, the sound of ripping paper making her heart beat faster. Sliding the parchment out from inside, she set the envelope down and slowly unfolded the letter, swallowing thickly as her vision clouded with tears. Blinking to clear away her sadness, she inhaled deeply, and began to read.

Hermione,

I imagine my death has come as quite a shock to you, and for that I am sorry. In all honesty, I should have come to you from the beginning. I wanted so desperately to tell you about what I was to become, but I was a coward. A coward like always. I know you must be thinking the worst about this, but please, do not worry. I was ready for death to come. I knew what would happen if Fenrir took control over my mind and body. I prepared ahead of time, and I had a plan. If my plan succeeded, please make sure to thank him for me. Loki, I mean. Without him, we would have been doomed.

I would also like to apologize for the hell I put you through over the years. When we were forced to separate, my world imploded. I didn't know how to react. We made some mistakes, but I don't regret a single one of them. I think my biggest regret is not coming back to you when it was all said and done. I had my chance, and chose to ignore it. Again, like the coward I've always been, I left you alone after you suffered to free me from the constraints of the contract I was forced to adhere to. I hope that someday you will be able to forgive me for that. I want you to know it had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me, as cliché as that may sound.

With my passing, I hope that you find yourself free—free from the hold we had on one another. I want you to be happy, Hermione. I want you to finally move on with your life and find the love you so desperately deserve. Right now, I imagine you are feeling heartbroken, not only by my death, but because Loki had a role in my demise. Know this, my love—he did what he had to because I asked it of him. He sacrificed me so that you could live, so you could help save the universe. He loves you. He might not have told you yet, but I know that he does. Find it within your heart to forgive him, just like I know you will forgive me for lying to you.

I love you, Hermione. I have always loved you, and I don't want you to forget that. But, it's time for you to move on. There is someone else who deserves your love now. Your love will save him, and his, you. Together, your love—your love will be powerful enough to save the universe. Conquer worlds together. Travel across the galaxy together. Bring Fenrir to his knees. Go to him, Hermione. Don't cast him aside just because I asked him to do something horrid. Goodbye, my love.

Always,

Draco

Struggling to her feet, Hermione gasped for breath, fighting back the sobs that wracked her small frame. Harry was right—Draco had given her exactly what she needed to hear, but he also gave her so much more to think about. Stumbling as her feet tangled in the blanket on the couch, she lurched towards the kitchen where she could hear Harry keeping busy. The letter crinkled in her fist as she clutched Draco's last words close to her chest, to her heart. Finally finding herself standing in the doorway to the kitchen, she breathed heavily, chest heaving with each inhale and exhale.

"Harry—"

She couldn't say anything else over the influx of emotions attacking her currently. Harry met her in the doorway, his hands coming out to grip her quaking shoulders and keep her from falling to her knees. His worried eyes raked over her form, trying to discern just exactly how bad this was going to get. Swallowing, he decided to tell her what had been asked of him.

"He wants to see you before they leave."

"When?" The question came out garbled, full of tears and pain. Wild, brown eyes wet with unshed tears gazed frantically at him, urging him to answer her quickly.

"They leave at eight."

With one final glance at Harry, Hermione's sights set on the clock on the wall. A strangled sound left her throat upon seeing it was ten to. Without further discussion, Hermione ran back to the couch and grabbed her wand from where it sat on the coffee table next to the teacup. Closing her eyes, she imagined her destination and disappeared with a 'pop'. Harry, knowing exactly where she was going, waited two minutes, and then followed her there.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Standing in the yard, Loki watched as Wanda and Stark said their goodbyes to everyone. How utterly sentimental of them. Glaring, he huffed and leaned into the tree, wishing they would all get a move on. They might as well hurry up and get back to Asgard, where his cell was far more comfortable than the laboratory floor he'd slept on the past two nights. Banner would be staying behind while Jane, Darcy, Hogun, and Thor traveled back to Asgard in the hope of finding and destroying Fenrir once and for all. Wanda walked over to where he stood, a resigned look in her blue eyes. She glanced at her watch once before meeting his troubled gaze.

"I'm sorry, Loki. It appears, she isn't coming."

"It doesn't matter," he lied, glancing away and trying to ignore the pang of hurt that radiated throughout his chest. "It's better this way."

"I don't believe you, but I'm sure it feels better to tell yourself that, nonetheless." She placed a gentle hand on his cuffed wrist, the gesture more than he deserved, he was certain.

"You should come with us."

"I am needed elsewhere. Steve has a mission he will need my help with." Removing her hand, she crossed her arms to stave off the chilly morning air. "I suspect we will meet again someday. Behave yourself, will you?"

Smirking, he bowed his head in reply, glad to see her smile once more before wandering off towards Stark and Thor. He would miss the Scarlet Witch much more than he cared to admit. He truly hoped they would meet again someday, perhaps on the same side and not against each other. Watching as the others finished talking, Loki exhaled heavily. It appeared Hermione truly was not going to show. He wondered if Potter had even bothered to tell her his request. Even if she did not forgive him, he still longed to see her one last time before being locked away forever worlds apart. Their connection would ensure their continued anguish over the years, but he hoped that seeing her before departing Midgard would give him enough to endure that endless torture.

As Thor began making his way over towards Loki, the Jotun's stomach dropped knowing it was over. She wasn't coming. Shoving away from the tree, Loki was about to make some snarky comment about being late for his future in the dungeons when there was a loud 'pop' to his left. Everyone in the vicinity whipped around to see who it was, a collective sigh sounding when it was Hermione who appeared and not Fenrir. She stood there in the yard, wiping frantically at her tearstained face for a moment before Jane and Darcy scurried towards her. Loki couldn't hear what was being said, but eventually they cleared a path for her. It was at this time Harry also appeared, apprehension clouding his face. Everyone looked on as Hermione made her way for Loki, her eyes watching her feet as they moved through the damp grass.

When she stopped in front of him, he could smell her tears like rain. The wind began to blow, her hair whipping across her face as she lifted her gaze to meet his. Relaxing his stance, Loki waited patiently for her to speak, but it was evident she was unsure of what to say. Quietly, he broke the silence for the both of them.

"You came."

"I was told you wanted to see me."

"I must admit; I do not know quite what to say now that you're here in front of me," he admitted, sounding just as surprised as he suddenly felt. Hermione tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, nodding after he said this. When she said nothing in reply, he tried again. "I want to apologize for the way things panned out. It was not my intention to hurt you so."

"Hah!" Loki flinched at her harsh bark of laughter. "Not your intention to hurt me? Really, Loki? How do you think I was going to react to the death of the man I loved for over a decade?" She ran both hands through her tangled hair, eyes full of unshed tears.

"I didn't think—"

"That's exactly it! You didn't think! This entire fiasco could have been prevented! No one had to die…" She trailed off as a single tear escaped her eye and ran down her flushed cheek. Swiping it away angrily, she figured she might as well get this over with. "I've come to say goodbye, Loki."

"Goodbye?" Disbelief crept into his voice, making it waver ever so slightly. He chose to ignore the flair of panic that made his lungs feel like he was drowning.

"Yes, goodbye." Taking a steadying breath, Hermione shook her head. "But first I need to ask you something."

"Anything. You may ask me anything, you know that." Loki's words felt thick on his tongue as dread settled into the pit of his stomach.

"Why did you do it? Why did you agree to kill Draco?"

Because I love you.

Closing his eyes, Loki knew that's what she wanted to hear. He knew in his stone-cold heart that's what he needed to say, but he just couldn't. Not now. Not like this. She deserved so much more than this. So much more than him and what he could offer her. So, steeling himself, Loki opened his eyes and lied to her.

"Because he asked me to, and it felt good, Hermione. It felt good to save you like that."

The words tumbled from his lips easily even as they broke his heart into a million tiny shards of despair. He expected her to blanch, to shy away from him, but she didn't. She was strong. Stronger than he gave her credit for. Instead of lashing out, she simply nodded once, and then twice before biting her lip in thoughtfulness.

"Right." She choked out, voice laden with emotion, "Okay." Backing away, she shook her head slowly. "I would have followed you anywhere, Loki. I could have loved you forever."

Bowing his head shamefully, Loki tried to speak but found himself unable to utter a single word. He'd never known what heartbreak felt like, but he was fairly confident this was it. As she continued to speak, it was like he was the one who was dying from a spear to the chest.

"I thought that my love could save you—could make you see the difference between right and wrong. I need you to say something, Loki. I need to hear you say it."

Taking a deep breath, Loki lifted his head, knowing full and well he would regret this for the rest of his life. Staring into her sad, brown eyes, he squared his shoulders and finished it.

"Farewell, Hermione."

This time she did flinch backwards, her face showing nothing but agony and astonishment. Watching as tears flooded her eyes, he maintained a stoic persona. She clutched at the necklace round her neck, and he shook his head once, indicating he did not want it back. As the tears began to leak from her eyes, she struggled to speak. It took her a moment, but he braced himself for her final words, surprised when they were not harsh, but simple and to the point.

"This really is goodbye then, Loki. I truly hope someday you can realize that there is good in your heart, and if you just let love in, you might wind up happy." Giving a brief, watery smile, she shrugged one shoulder and turned away. She made quick work of saying goodbye to the others, and then she was gone, without a second glance.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hours later, Harry found her sitting in the middle of her bed; the quilt pulled up around her body. She was no longer crying, having run out of tears long ago. He stood within the doorway for a moment, the light from the setting sun illuminating her from behind. Clearing his throat, Harry made his presence known to his friend. She tipped her head up to stare at him, a blank look upon her face. He walked forward to sit at the edge of the bed, reaching out to hold her hand.

"What are you doing here, Harry?"

"I had to come and make sure you were alright, of course."

"I'll be fine," she murmured tucking a loose curl behind an ear and throwing him a half smile. "You should be home with Ginny and the kids; they need you just as much."

"Don't be silly, Hermione. We both know you need a friend right now."

Sighing heavily, she shrugged, the quilt shifting on her body. "Thank you for being there for me, Harry."

He chose not to reply to that, knowing she didn't expect a response. Instead, he glanced about the room, taking in the space. From what Ron had told him, this was where she'd admitted to Loki she loved him the day before of the battle. He was surprised she could be here without falling to pieces. Thinking back to earlier that morning, Harry wondered if he should share what happened after she'd left Jane's.

"What are you going to do now," he asked instead, wanting to gauge her mental state before filling her in on the morning's events.

"I don't really know," Hermione admitted. "I suppose I'll finish my work in astrophysics with Bruce at the lab and then either travel to conduct more research regarding that—or I'll just go back to the way things were before…working at the Ministry and living life day by day."

Even to his own ears, the latter sounded horribly dull. Knowing he was going to regret this somehow, Harry heaved a sigh and decided he couldn't allow Hermione to go through life loveless and miserable. She deserved much more than that, and fuck; she deserved to know the truth. She deserved the love Loki held in his heart for her. Whatever repercussions came from his revelation, he knew Hermione would survive somehow. That's what she always did—she was a survivor. She survived being tortured by Bellatrix, and then the Battle of Hogwarts. She survived losing her and Ron's baby, and she even survived losing Draco to Astoria. She would survive this too. She would pull through the grief of Draco's death, because she would have Loki's love.

"Hermione," Harry began, his voice wavered slightly. "You should know what happened after you left this morning." Her eyebrows drew together in query, so he continued. "As they were preparing to leave, Loki made a break for it. He tried to get to me—he demanded I bring you back, that he made a mistake."

"A mistake?"

"I said he lied to you. He told me he—he…"

"He what, Harry?" Hermione implored, grabbing his wrist almost painfully. Green eyes flickered back and forth between her distraught face and the hand that was gripping onto him with a surprising amount of strength. He shook his head, knowing how crazy this was going to sound, but knowing he had to do it anyway.

"It will be better if you let him tell you himself."

"Wh—what?" Hermione stammered, dropping his wrist and moving to stand by the bed where she could stare down into his face. "What are you trying to tell me, Harry?"

Harry stood as well, taking both her hands in his own, and smiling despite everything that transpired, and that was bound to happen from this point forward. Her frantic eyes met his as every good reason left him, and he just went with his gut for the first time in decades.

"Go to Asgard, Hermione. Go to Asgard and ask Loki again. Ask him to tell you the real reason he agreed to kill Draco. This time, I don't think he'll lie to you. This time I think you'll hear exactly what you've been waiting for all this time. Go to Asgard."

Harry gazed at Hermione, feeling her hands tremble in his own as she contemplated what he'd just said to her. Watching as the wheels turned in her mind, he grinned as a look of determination appeared on her round face. Letting go of her hands, he allowed Hermione to step backwards, away from him as she decided what to do next. He knew what she was going to say before the words left her mouth. It was going to be hard to say goodbye to her, after all they'd been friends since he and Ron saved her from a troll all those years ago. Ignoring the sadness in his own heart, he tried to look happy for her as she finally responded, a smile of her own gracing her lips.

"To Asgard."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

End Notes: Thanks for reading! Please leave a quick review, or a long one, and make sure to check out my writer page and group over on Facebook. Links are in my profile! Also, check out the prequels for this story if you're interested. The order in which they should be read is also on my profile! Much love! xxDustNight