A/N: from the prompt dratomione 20 years later/epilogue trope where everyone is confused/bamboozled at how everything turned out.

Hermione hated this day. This celebration. The reminder. She'd avoided it the past four years but Harry had insisted she make an appearance this time.

"Five years Hermione. Don't you want to celebrate that? We deserve it. Please! You can even bring ferret-face."

"Don't call him that Harry. I see the pair of you together at work thick as thieves almost everyday. You can tell me you dislike him till you're blue in the face but I know you like him."

"Whatever," he said, waving his hand dismissively and pulling himself from the chair in front of her desk, "Just tell me you'll be there."

Hermione looked up from the stack of paperwork surrounding her and met his eye. The look he was giving her was her downfall - she'd never been able to refuse him anything when he looked at her like that. "Fine."

She should have stuck to her gun's. Disappeared with Draco like she had every year. Maybe if she had Harry wouldn't be screaming that Lord Voldemort had returned. The Great Hall wouldn't be shouting in delirious fear at his proclamation but looking around for the pale, scaly skinned, no nosed man. McGonagall wouldn't be lying in a crumpled heap beside her, faint from the sight and Draco wouldn't be chuckling quietly against her shoulder. Hermione tensed her jaw and glared at the man who'd just walked into the hall.

"I'm going to kill him," she murmured quietly to Draco who could only snort in response and squeezed her waist tighter with the arm he was holding her back with.

"You should have known he'd do this."

She flicked her eyes to him before she turned her attention back to a very young, good-looking, alive Tom Riddle, who was smirking at her like the cat who'd got the cream. "I'm still going to kill him."

"Granger. Granger get up," Draco hissed, heaving Hermione to her feet and clutching her tightly as he dragged her in the direction of the veil room. "Fucking deatheaters" he hissed under his breath as they traversed the department of mysteries and navigated their way through the mess. It had been a mistake, an accident that had found the pair of them stuck together like this in this situation. Draco wasn't even finished his auror training yet and Hermione was studying law in the DMLE for Merlin's sake. They shouldn't have been the ones stuck down here handling this, but they'd been in the lift together, arguing as usual, when it had shifted and dropped them down here to find Rosier, Rowle and Avery. They'd heard the words 'resurrection' 'pull from the veil' and 'The Dark Lord' and hadn't thought about the consequences. They'd set after them immediately, firing spell after spell in an attempt to stop them. "We have to-"

"I know Malfoy. We have to stop them. Merlin can you even imagine." She shuddered. Draco gulped. He could imagine actually. He dreaded to think what would happen if the Dark Lord returned. To her- a muggleborn. To him - a turncoat.

"Let's just stop them before we're too late."

"Oh but you are too late - NOW!"

They were thrown back against the floor, pinned down by the magic and watched in horror as it tightened around each of them, choking them into submission, melding into their skin. Hermione could feel Draco's fear. He could feel her terror. "I'm so sorry," he choked out.

"Now why on earth would you be sorry," a voice, a smooth velvety rich voice that gave Hermione goosebumps and sent a thrill up Draco's spine, said. The magic released them, though they could still feel each other and scrambled up, wands drawn to face whatever had joined them in the cavernous room. Their hands reached, automatically, for the other's.

"Oh fuck," Draco murmured when they touched and a bond, a soul bond flared to life between the two of them.

"Oh," Tom Riddle chuckled, crossing the room to join them and dispatching of the deatheaters who'd brought him back in the process. He reached a hand out and clasped their joined ones in his, bringing Hermione to her knees with the fulfillment of the bond his touch brought with it, "we will."

"We are so fucked," she managed to murmur, before Tom disapparated the three of them, Ministry wards be damned.

"You are so dead when we get home," she hissed out of the corner of her mouth. Tom only smirked.

"Hermione! Malfoy! What are you doing? Get out of the way. Merlin don't you know who that is?" Harry shouted, stalking towards her and Draco as they stood between him and Tom. The entire hall was watching them - their eyes bouncing between the two friends.

Hermione sighed iritably. "Murder you with my bare hands," she mumbled, "You can't Harry. If you hurt him you'll hurt me."

"What on ear-"

"He's our husband."

Silence.

"YOUR WHAT?" Ron shrieked, joining Harry and stalking towards the three of them.

"Bare hands," she hissed again.

Draco chuckled. Tom had the decency to look contrite.