This one's a bit longer; I wanted to give you some more Dramione and maybe some plot progression. The bad news is that I'm going away in a week and a half so I might not realistically be updating again until mid-May. Boo. Thanks always for your kind words; I always appreciate them. And there's warning for some sexy scenes at the end of this chapter – just letting ya'll know! Enjoy.

LCailan

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

The music that played throughout the huge room was soft enough to encourage conversation between everyone who was in attendance of the gala. As Hermione spun around the dance floor in Neville's arms as gracefully as possible given his two left feet, she nearly stopped when the double doors opened and Blaise Zabini entered with Lavender on his arm.

It had been ages since Hermione had last seen her former classmate. The last time had been the night of the horrific alienage fire – a night Hermione had desperately prayed to forget even though all her prayers had been in vain. Although she had attended many functions on Neville's arm since he had become the Minister, Blaise had always come alone. It was odd, Hermione knew, but then again, she was not sure about Blaise or his intentions.

Lavender looked different. She wore a full formal gown of a royal blue which was fitted around the waist and fell to a full skirt that brushed the tips of shoes that had been clearly made to match the sparkling, flowing material of her dress. Her golden hair gleamed under the lights in the room and it was adorned with a number of sparkling combs.

Her face was fuller now, brighter, and had lost the hard, hungry edge that Hermione could still remember from the first night Lavender had arrived at the alienage. For a moment she couldn't look away and when she finally did, Hermione offered up a prayer in hopes that Lavender had found happiness.

She wanted to go over to her, to say hello, but each time she attempted to break away from Neville, he would be surrounded by his familiars and other officials and she knew that he hated to face them alone and so she stayed, hoping that she would eventually have a moment to speak with Lavender. As Hermione waited for an opportune moment she found herself watching the couple closely. They were lovely together, she realized. Blaise Zabini was a man that demanded attention even though he did not seek it. Something about him was intrinsically captivating – she could easily understand how Lavender had found herself in love with him.

He stood tall and regal and his posture was stiff as if he wanted to stand above those around him. He wore a simple black suit; it was the same suit she had seen him in at all the formal events. It had a stiff, crisp collar and his trousers were neatly pressed. She had noticed that the man always appeared as if he was hiding something and she wondered if that were so.

Hermione had no reason to dislike Zabini. After all, he had been pivotal in the freedom of all those she had loved at the alienage. He had helped Muggle borns escape throughout the war. And not only that but Draco had trusted him. And yet there was something…unnerving about the man. She thought he looked too suspicious, his dark, glittering eyes predatory in a stern, shadowed face. He rarely spoke and smiled even less. Though unquestionably handsome, he had grown too austere and cold.

It was odd then that despite the coldness he exuded, Blaise's eyes were feverish – always vigilant.

It's as if he's still…hunting. What is he looking for?

Hermione found herself curling closer to Neville and looking away from Blaise who stood on the outskirts of the crowd. She thought of Pansy and the others – the ones she was now protecting – and wondered what Commander Zabini would think. She smiled dryly to herself, shaking her head. It was best he never find out.

Neville had seemed to read Hermione's emotions and when they were alone for a brief moment he glanced back towards where Blaise stood.

"Odd bloke," he muttered glancing down at her. She could only nod.

'Odd' seemed a mild word.

It was only an hour later when Hermione was standing near a table laden with all manner of luscious desserts that she ran into Lavender.

Both women had reached for the same chocolate éclair and when Hermione looked up to see who was standing in front of her she held back a gasp. The first thing she noticed was that from far away, Lavender had seemed the picture of happiness. It was different up close.

"Lavender!"

Hermione wondered why it was difficult to smile.

"Hermione."

There was an odd sort of pause as Hermione struggled to find something to say. She was incredibly overwhelmed at seeing Lavender again after so long but it did not appear that the blond woman felt the same way. In fact, she was disturbingly unemotional.

"It's…b-been so long," Hermione began in a weak voice. Then, taking a huge breath, she commented on the obvious.

"You look beautiful."

Lavender's blue eyes flickered up towards Hermione face as she opened her mouth to speak.

"So do you."

Her words, just as her expression, were lackluster. Hermione wondered for a second if perhaps she was going crazy because she detected an undercurrent of resentment that lingered in Lavender's tone.

Feeling more nervous than she ought to have, Hermione began to speak again.

"I-I had wondered what happened to you…after-after the alienage," she nearly whispered now.

Somehow in light of the new world and her new life, she hated to even think of the alienage let alone speak of it. "I'm glad to see that you…found your family again."

Lavender looked towards her husband who stood in the same place he had been standing in for over an hour and her face grew dark.

"Yes."

This time the words held an unmistakable hardness. Her eyes had iced over.

"You know what they say, Hermione. Be careful what you wish for."

Hermione was struck speechless at the sudden bitterness in Lavender's icy words. But it didn't matter because Lavender continued to speak.

"I suppose you don't understand how that feels though, do you?"

Hermione stiffened feeling suddenly defensive.

"I'm not sure what you're trying to say."

Lavender offered a tiny smile.

"Oh, no matter. Why are we talking about me anyway?" she continued infusing her voice with a brightness that made the tension between the two women even more obvious.

"Look at you!" she exclaimed. "The wife of the Minister! I never imagined that! Did you?"

Lavender's eyes bore into Hermione's with such intensity that the brunette had to look away, feeling self-conscious.

"Never," she admitted though she still felt uneasy in Lavender's presence. "Neville and I…we crossed paths again long before he took the post."

"I see."

Lavender took a step closer, cocking her head for a second.

"What about Draco?"

Her voice was low now and Hermione was glad for it.

"What about him?"

"Did he abandon you?"

Lavender's tone held a touch of mock concern and now Hermione knew that the contempt she had sensed before was really there. She felt herself pale.

"He died."

The lie came naturally for there were warning bells going off in Hermione's head now.

Don't tell her anything. Whatever you do, say nothing.

Lavender's blue eyes scrutinized Hermione's face for a moment before she spoke.

"Such a shame. When love dies like that, no?"

Hermione felt scrutinized; she felt as if Lavender could not only understand her expression but read her very mind. She battled with the foreign feeling of paranoia that was threatening her.

Instead, she lifted her chin, nodding.

"It is. In spite of the fact that we haven't always gotten on so well I'm glad that you were spared such a fate."

Lavender's eyes narrowed a fraction and Hermione watched her jaw moving as if the other woman was gritting her teeth. For a moment there was only tense silence and then the blond woman forced a smile.

"It is a good thing that fate spared us both such a fate then? You have clearly moved on from Draco's death."

Her intense blue eyes had left Hermione's face and lingered on Neville for a moment though no one could hazard a guess to what she was thinking. Hermione chose to remain calm in spite of the feeling of anxiousness that was nibbling at the edges of her consciousness now.

"Yes."

"You have a son?"

Hermione took a breath realizing that being the wife of the Minister meant that others would know her family situation whether she liked it or not.

"Yes. Leo."

Lavender offered another smile that never reached her eyes.

"We're both mothers now, Hermione. It's…"

She paused in what could only be called a calculating fashion.

"It's rather amazing though isn't it?" she asked, her eyes moving back towards Hermione slyly.

"What is?"

"You and I…where we are now? Considering where we were only years ago."

Hermione began to grow cold from a heavy, oily feeling that was filling her belly. Thinking about the past was still often paralyzing if not always a source of despair.

"We only did what we had to, Lavender. None of those things in our past really matter now."

She stepped closer to the blond woman because her first instinct was to make sure that no one overheard the conversation. Lavender offered a gleeful laugh.

"No?"

Then her face melted into a smile.

"Neville must know then, yes? After all, if those things we did back then don't matter now…?"

She cocked her head.

"Blaise knows what I was," she finished. "Does Neville know that you whored yourself out to a Death Eater?"

The question wasn't threatening; Hermione found that it was quite casual and watched with horror as Lavender ran her fingers along the dessert table, contemplating what she would have.

"I apologize for putting you on the spot," she continued obviously rather glad that she had finally hit upon something to make Hermione feel awful about. "But Blaise and I have discussed it for ages and I suppose I just forget that…well, that others might like to hide that part of their lives. You know, the dirtiness associated with being a Mudblood whore."

Her eyes gleamed as she chose a small chocolate confection.

"But surely, Neville understands? He's a good man."

Hermione stared at Lavender with disbelief.

"Are you threatening me?" she countered, her posture stiffening.

Lavender blinked an innocent expression on her features.

"Why would I do that?"

Hermione felt anger surge through her as she glared at Lavender.

"Neville doesn't know. He doesn't need to and I intend to keep the past where it belongs."

As she spoke Hermione felt guilt needling at her. She had kept the truth from Neville because of her selfishness and fear. What if he didn't understand? What if they found out about Draco? She couldn't imagine it.

Lavender was nodding as if she understood.

"Of course, you're right," she soothed. "If Blaise didn't already know I probably wouldn't tell him either."

The sympathy reeked of insincerity and suddenly Hermione wished she had never run into Lavender Zabini.

"In your situation it's even more delicate, you know," she continued softly, stepping closer to Hermione. They were only inches apart and the sweet scent of lilacs that clung to Lavender's hair made Hermione's stomach roil.

"Your husband is the Minister for Magic!" she exclaimed with a vapid titter. "Imagine what people would think if they knew his wife had at one time whored herself out to a Death Eater! What would the public think of him then? And what about your son? Would he understand?"

Hermione's eyes suddenly burned with unshed, scalding tears of shame and she took a step away, swallowing back a sob.

"You loathsome bitch," she hissed through clenched teeth. "Why don't you let the past well enough alone?"

Lavender smirked.

"Look in the mirror, Hermione. At least I don't make pretenses for what I am. I've accepted my lot in life a long time ago and I'm not trying to cover up my dirty past with nice things, a new family and my good deeds for the new Ministry!"

Hermione grew defensive.

"I'm trying to help!"

"You're trying to make up for everything you've done in the past! Well, guess what? That sort of thing doesn't go away!"

"Leave me alone!"

"Don't you worry about that, Hermione, I plan on it."

She stepped away a nasty expression on her face.

"Just remember. Secrets don't stay hidden forever."

There was a horrible, tense silence before Lavender offered a smile that was as innocent as a baby.

"It was lovely to see you again, Hermione. I wish you well; we both deserve it after the hell that we went through during the war."

Hermione was left standing by the dessert table watching Lavender move through the crowd to find her husband. As hard as she tried, there was no way to erase Lavender's words or knowing, cold look lingering in her eyes.

And later that night, Neville could not understand why Hermione refused to sleep in their bedroom, opting instead to curl up on a chaise near Leo's bed and not emerging in the morning, not even to see him off to work.

On the following day, Hermione and Leo stood at the crest of the grass covered hill leading up to the brick house – the house Draco was hiding in – as she tried for the thousandth time to shake off the anxiety that had settled on her soul after her run-in with Lavender.

The sun shone down brightly from a clear, blue sky.

"Mama, its gonna be a hot one, isn't it?"

Hermione glanced down at Leo to find him gazing up at her.

"Who says so?"

"Daddy does."

She held back a choked sound. 'Daddy' coming from Leo's lips meant so much to Hermione but she also knew that she was allowing her son to live a lie. In fact, she was leaving no one a choice. Blinking away a sudden heat behind her eyes she took a breath.

Neville had set off that morning for a two day trip in honor of the groundbreaking in Ireland. She had decided that it was now or never; Draco deserved to at least know what his own child was like just in case he never got the chance to meet him. Therein lay the biggest problem for Hermione. How could she risk her child's life? In this new world she and Draco had even less of a chance than they had in the previous.

Did we ever have a chance at all?

Not even the thought of Lavender and Blaise having made it through the war together warmed Hermione now. She knew whatever was between that couple was not enough to sustain joy; she had seen nothing but despair in the depths of Lavender's eyes.

Would it eventually have been the same for Draco and me? Perhaps we did the right thing?

She stared down at her son's hand in hers, Neville's wedding ring gleaming on her ring finger. The longing in her heart began to weep. How could it be the right thing if so much of her heart lay with the man hiding in the house before her?

She missed Ron; her love for her first husband had been uncomplicated in the light of everything that had come after. She missed the innocence of childhood, of her school days. She missed her friends and her parents. She missed Luna.

I miss the peace that the ending of the war should have brought.

Leo pulled on her hand with insistence.

"Mama, what are we doin' here?"

Hermione knelt by Leo's feet and offered her son a smile.

"You learned how to fly here! I thought we could have a picnic and practice on that broom again. Would you like that?"

Leo looked from his mother to the large house standing atop the hill.

"That house is scary, Mama. Kinda like its ahaunted."

Hermione startled for a second wondering if Leo had seen the rustling of a curtain or a set of gray eyes watching them from the inside.

"Haunted? What do you mean?" she questioned mildly, lifting up the small picnic basket she had packed and handing Leo his broom to hold.

"You know, Mama," he explained with self-importance. "Like ghosts! Albus tells me stories."

"Well, Albus should know better than to tell you ghost stories. You're too young."

"I am not too young! I like them!"

Hermione led Leo up the small hill.

"You know they're just stories, don't you, Leo?"

Leo looked thoughtful for a moment and Hermione found a place under one of the trees by the house where she put down their basket. Using her wand she quickly spread a blanket upon the grass and turned to her little boy.

He was watching the house with a strange look.

"I believes in ghosts, Mama."

Hermione, too, glanced at the house. She saw nothing but the fine, brick masonry and clear, tall glass windows. That's when she noticed the far left one, the one nearest their picnic spot, was wide open.

Draco, can you hear us?

Shivering a bit, Hermione concentrated her focus on Leo once more.

"Ghosts don't scare you?"

"No. Ghosts can be good. James says his daddy he was born from is a ghost."

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she sank down on the grass to listen to her son. She was forever fascinated by his brilliant mind even at such a young age.

"Really?"

"Yes, Mama! Ghosts are just people who have dieded already."

He was watching the house again and Hermione took a moment to admire her son. He looked more and more like his father every day in his words and mannerisms and especially in that moment, when he was 'teaching' someone something he didn't know they already knew. His eyes always lit up and there were beginnings of a self-confident smirk on his lips.

That, more than anything, was just like Draco.

"Albus says that good ghosts watch over people like me and you. He says that Dumbdoor watches him."

Hermione tried not to giggle as Leo continued.

"That other one watches us too, Serve…"

"Severus?"

"Yes, him."

Hermione smiled.

"Maybe."

She began to pull out the fixings for their lunches as Leo continued to watch the house curiously.

"Lily says that my real daddy that dieded watches me."

Hermione felt her breathing grow shallow and she nearly dropped the small loaf of bread she had packed. She glanced up at Leo with masked sympathy and sadness.

Oh, Leo. Your real daddy is watching! And he's not as dead as you think! If only we hadn't been separated! If only we could be a family!

"He definitely is watching you, Leo."

Her words were a bit shaky with grief and regret but Leo didn't seem to notice.

"Lily says that her Mama's Wheeze family watches them too."

This time, Hermione giggled.

"I think they are," she replied as she began to work on their sandwiches.

"What's funny?"

Leo sat down on his knees to watch his mother make their food.

"Nothing, love."

Hermione set aside the food and opened her arms wanting to hold her son.

"Can you give your Mama a hug and kiss?"

Leo did so willingly, always an affectionate boy.

"Only 'cause you're my Mama and not 'cause you're a girl. Girls are gross."

His expression was so much like Draco's that Hermione nearly wept.

"You'll change your mind someday, Leo."

"I won't!" he said with confidence.

But he hugged and kissed her and Hermione held on for a few seconds, running her fingers through his auburn curls. Then she pulled away and pointed towards their sandwiches.

"Do you want to eat first and then fly?" she suggested.

Leo shook his head and scrambled to his feet.

"Let's fly first! I wanna show those ghosts how good I am!"

Hermione rolled her eyes affectionately but allowed Leo to grab his broom and run ahead of her towards the crest of the hill. Then she watched and cheered him on as he attempted to levitate himself on the broom. Each time he did so he would clap his hands together with delight. When he grew tired of the game, he ran across to where his mother had sat down to watch him.

"Mama, I think I'm so good I can go to Hogwurtz."

Hermione laughed.

"You're good, Leo. But I think you have to wait to learn magic. You've got a few years yet," she reminded him, her heart clenching for a moment at the thought of having to let her little boy go someday.

"I wanna go now! James says that Hogwurtz fell down 'cause people were in the war for too long and stopped caring about other stuffs."

Hermione sighed.

"It didn't fall down, Leo. It's just that with the war there was no time for school and things like that."

"Those no good Defeater-"

Hermione cut her son off in the midst of his sullen diatribe, pained as she always was at the words that fell from his lips. Words he didn't even understand the meaning of.

"Leo Frederick Etamin!"

"Sorry, Mama," came his reply.

There was a quiet pause as Hermione gathered her thoughts.

"One day soon, Hogwarts will re-open. Now that the war is over people can live their lives again. You'll see. James, Albus and Lily will go to school. So will Luna's boys. And when you get old enough, you will too."

The answer and Hermione's firmness seemed to mollify the small boy who nodded back towards his discarded broomstick.

"Can I fly again?"

"Why don't we eat first?" she suggested softly, getting back to her feet as Leo ran a few feet away to claim his abandoned broom. Although it was evident he did not want to eat, he knew better than to argue with his mother and so they headed back towards the grove of trees where their lunch awaited.

Hermione glanced back at the house just in time to see a rustling from the open window and a flash of white-blond hair.

Draco.

Hermione had allowed Leo to join Neville for the ceremony later that evening and after her son had taken the Floo from their home she was left alone. At first the curiosity over what Draco had thought of his son was a dull ache but by an hour's time the pull was irresistible and Hermione found herself standing before the house again, this time alone.

She let herself in using her wand and then stood in the dark confines of the cool, dusty house. There was no sound and for a moment she listened to the rattling beat of her heart before walking down the empty hallway into the room where she had found him the first time.

He was there again, facing away from her, the cool evening air coming through the still open window, and did nothing to acknowledge her presence.

"Did you see him?" she whispered.

Hermione watched Draco as he turned from his place by the window and suddenly, in one graceful movement, he stood and violently shoved the chair he had been sitting in.

"I fucking hate this!"

Hermione backed away, wincing at Draco's tone, a shudder of fear running through her. She hadn't seen such a dark look on his face in ages.

"What-?"

"This whole time, Hermione? This whole time you've let another man love MY SON!"

Hermione was overwhelmed by his emotion unable to comprehend what he was trying to say because it made no sense.

Draco was pacing back and forth, oblivious to the bout of pain that he had just caused Hermione. She gasped for air as her eyes burned with tears of pain and anger.

"How could you say something like that?" she whispered brokenly. "After everything I've been through?"

Her voice began to tremble with suppressed rage.

"Do you really think I've spent the last five years wondering what it was I could do to make you hurt the most? Do you think I believed you were alive?"

She stalked across the room, shoving aside the chair and raising her wand against him. Draco's eyes widened as she jabbed him in the chest almost viciously. He had no wand to protect himself and Hermione realized how the tables had turned.

"You loathsome prat!" she raged.

Draco stumbled back against the open window his face twisted in rage and jealousy.

"Leo is my son!"

His cry was hoarse and broken.

"My blood Hermione! Mine and yours and he's home now probably telling another man he loves him! It's so fucking unfair!"

Hermione saw tears glittering in his eyes.

"He'll hug my son and tell him he loves him and get to spend every waking moment watching him grow, change and become a man! Don't you understand? Do you have any inkling of how that makes me feel, Hermione?"

Though she knew that he was deserving of the anger with which he had lashed out at her, Hermione was too angry to think straight.

"You bastard!" she screamed, launching herself at him and clawing down his shirt viciously. For a moment she had trouble gripping the solid muscle of his body but she found purchase within moments and began to pound against him with her small fists.

"I hate you!" she sobbed, tears streaming down her face in burning streaks. "I hate you! I hate you!"

Each word fell from her lips with more and more venom. Hermione took pleasure from the feeling of her fists connecting with his flesh.

"You spew your selfish garbage and you haven't an inkling of how I FEEL!" she screamed at him tearfully. "The things I've endured after you ABANDONED me!"

She was growing tired but Hermione wanted to remain strong and angry even as she was weeping in rage.

"How could you have left me?"

Draco grabbed onto her failing hands to try and keep her from going for his face.

"Hermione! I did it for you! Because I knew what was coming and I knew that you deserved a better-"

One of her hands broke free and she smacked him hard.

"Don't you dare say anything! Don't you dare spew you lies about why you abandoned me, you coward! You made me love you! You made me understand how much I loved you and then you left me! And now you had the nerve to be upset that someone else is raising your son? Do you know how difficult it was for me to move on?"

Her body had gone limp against his now, and she was awakened by the feel of him against her, the heat of his body pressing against her flesh.

"I know!" he exclaimed angrily. "I know it was hard for you but it was better for you in the end!"

Hermione pulled away from him, her face paling.

"I would have rather died in your arms while trying to run away from the Ministry than to have spent the last five years without you!"

Draco looked crestfallen as he reached for her.

"Don't touch me," she growled but till she watched as he reach to pin her against the wall by the window.

Her face felt too hot as the night breeze ruffled the curtains and as his body came to rest against hers she felt a whisper of need stir in her belly. A need that he had created in her years ago. She felt herself melt against him even as she struggled against the feeling. It was wrong; she couldn't. She wasn't with Draco any longer; she had married someone else. She had moved on with her life and she couldn't-

"I was so afraid, Hermione," he whispered.

She felt the smoothness of his face against hers now, his whisper making her shiver.

"I was terrified that I would destroy you and that my choices would put you in danger. I'm a Death Eater for Merlin's sake!"

His fingers tightened on her flesh making it impossible for Hermione to pull away now.

"I only wanted to see you for a moment, to glimpse you and know you were all right! I never wanted to hurt you or our son!"

Hermione stopped struggling now and reached up to run her fingers along his skin just as she had wanted to do again from the moment they had been reunited.

"Draco…"

"I thought I was strong. I thought I could resist you but…oh, God, Hermione!"

His lips pressed against the messy curls that fell around her shoulders and found their way across her forehead and her flushed cheeks, raining along her chin before finally finding home against her own.

"I love you," he muttered against her lips. "I love you to the point that it drives me mad. I want to be with you, to marry you to make love to you! I want to spend the rest of my life at your side and-"

He choked on a sob as his lips moved against hers over and over again with more and more determination.

"Oh, God, Hermione," he whispered over and over between passionate kisses. "This thing between us is bigger than we are."

Hermione felt his hands along her thighs and she welcomed his touches, leaning against him and then when he shifted, wrapping her legs around his waist so that she could pull closer against him. Draco struggled to hold her up with one hand as he reached for his trousers with trembling fingers. She grew moist instantly knowing that after all this time..

Oh, God.

She knew after all this time everything she had dreamed of would once again be a reality.

Neville was forgotten; her guilt was gone. She knew only that once again she would be his just as she had been for so long.

"I can't stay away from you, Draco," she rasped, kissing his chin and his jaw, wanting him more and more with each passing second. His touch had awakened all that she had thought was dormant forever.

"Don't," he muttered against her heated mouth. "Don't ever stay away. I wouldn't be able to bear it."

Hermione thought he'd make her wait but there were only a few agonizing seconds before she felt his body against her and the feeling of being joined with him in one, quick thrust.

She groaned, pressing her face against his burning neck. His name was on her lips over and over as he gripped her tightly.

For a moment they were still, neither moving, neither daring to breathe. The only sound was the pounding of hearts. Draco stood still, feeling her quiver around his thick member relishing the moment of being one with her again lest it be the only and last time it would ever happen.

Hermione moved her face and dared to gaze up into the eyes of the man she loved. In that moment she knew her world was right once again. It didn't matter that Lavender had threatened her, that she was lying to her family and that the world was no closer to peace than it had been during the war. No, none of that mattered.

What mattered was that after years of unrest, Hermione had found peace again in the arms of Draco Malfoy and nothing would be the same again. She had been lost in a world that she hadn't understood and with one touch of his hand she had been found again. There was no other explanation and no other truth.

"Please, Draco. Move."

Her whisper of need spurred him on and Draco began to thrust into her slowly and evenly and Hermione felt her body respond in turn as mewling sounds of pleasure escaped her. As he moved she felt the tension building up within her and she whispered his name in her need once again.

"Forgive me," he moaned against her mouth thrusting against her.

"Yes," she replied.

Yes. Yes. She had forgiven him. She had never had any other choice. As he moved faster, Hermione succumbed to him completely; he had taken her over. And his words repeated over and over in her mind.

This thing between us is bigger than we are.

She knew it was true. It was a horrible thing. It was a beautiful thing. It was a selfish thing and yet a completing thing. A evil thing while at the same time a saving thing. It was too overwhelming and too strong to deny. But most of all it was true because Hermione would never love anyone as true as she did Draco.

He tensed in orgasm and she felt him press her against the cold wall in his release and she moaned as she crashed over the edge of her own pleasure holding onto him for dear life. She held him closely, not willing to let him go just yet, to allow the moment to end because it was too real and perfect. She was home again; she had found her peace.