A/N: Well, it took me three years, but it's finally completed! I hope you enjoy the conclusion.
Anything you recognize is from the film.
Massive thanks to BiscuitsForPotter for being the best alpha/beta ever!

"Well, it isn't what I expected." Sarena pursed her lips and set the article on her desktop.

Hermione's heart sank, preparing herself for a lecture. Sure, the article had turned out to be much more serious in subject matter than she'd originally planned, but it had felt important to be transparent about what had happened in her pursuit of journalistic inspiration.

But instead of a lecture, Sarena's lips twitched into a rare smile. "It's better."

Stunned, Hermione blinked at her boss.

Sarena gestured to the small stack of parchment before her. "This shows me that you're ready to be unleashed."

"Really?"

"From now on, feel free to write about anything you want."

Hermione grinned, barely able to contain her excitement. This was it. After everything she'd gone through – years of writing inane articles about the most mindless subjects, late nights of research, and now her heartache of everything that happened with Draco – she was finally going to get what she wanted most of all.

"Anything?" she confirmed breathlessly.

Sarena hummed with a nod.

"Even politics?"

Sarena's lips tightened and her brow furrowed. She hummed again, but this time it was much less reassuring. "Hmm… no. Not politics."

The smile slid off Hermione's face. "What about marginalised creatures? Prejudice? Government corruption?"

Nose wrinkling in distaste, Sarena shook her head. "I don't think so."

Hermione scoffed. "What can I write about?"

"Whatever you want!" Sarena insisted, obviously missing the point entirely. "Fashion. Glamour Charms. Spells to spice up the bedroom."

Hermione stared at her boss, realisation washing over her completely. As long as she worked at Witch Weekly, she would never be allowed to write about things that mattered. Despite her hard work and talent for writing, she had achieved all she could here. It seemed that the pinnacle of journalism at Witch Weekly came hand in hand with a heavy dose of heartbreak.

"Thank you, Sarena," she said, standing from her seat and stepping toward the door of the office. "For making it so easy for me to walk away."

Hermione then walked out of the office before Sarena's brain could catch up to her gaping mouth.

When Hermione returned to her desk, Ginny's head lifted, her blue eyes wide. "How'd she like it?"

"She thought it was great," Hermionie replied, pulling her beaded bag from the top drawer of her desk. "But I quit."

Ginny's double take was so comical that it nearly cheered Hermione up. "She– You– What?"

With a wave of her wand, Hermione's personal belongings began to levitate into the bag. "I quit."

Parvati appeared in the entrance to the cubicle, her eyes wide. "Why?"

"I've gotten as much as I possibly can from this job," Hermione said evenly, her resolve solidifying more and more with each passing second. Everyone else's shock just washed over.

"What are you going to do?" Ginny asked, eyebrows raised in a mix of shock and eager anticipation.

Hermione shrugged. "The Daily Prophet might have openings. I'll look into it."

"And if they don't?" Parvati prompted.

Brow furrowing, Hermione thought about how few periodicals there were in Britain. There were only a small handful of large name papers and magazines. And she certainly wasn't about to write for The Quibbler. "There are lots of options abroad."

Parvati's eyebrows lifted dramatically. "You would move out of Britain?"

"If I have to," Hermione answered. "It's not like there's that much keeping me here."

Ginny's eyes narrowed, her mouth tightening slightly. She seemed to struggle with her words for a moment before finally asking, "Is this about Malfoy?"

Stomach twisting, Hermione dropped her eyes to her bag, busying her fingers with the drawstring. "No," she said at once. Then, after a short pause, "Maybe."

The sudden shift in topic threw her off her guard, and out of seemingly nowhere, her eyes began to sting. But instead of having an emotional breakdown in front of a captive audience, she pushed the tears back and shook her head. "No, I don't think it is," she decided. "This is the only way I'll ever be able to write about things that matter."

It was true. This was the right move for her career, whether it took her across town to The Daily Prophet or across oceans to another publication. But there was a small part of her, loathe as she was to admit it even to herself, that felt relieved at the idea of being so far away from Draco that she would never need to worry about running into him. She wouldn't hear about him through a friend of a friend. She wouldn't see him in passing in Diagon Alley. She wouldn't even need to see him mentioned in the paper. The Malfoy family was extremely famous here, but she doubted anyone gave a fig about Britain's most wealthy wizarding family in other countries.

As much as uprooting her life and moving abroad frightened her, the idea of a fresh start was rather enticing.

"Well, you have my support," Ginny said, placing a gentle hand on Hermione's arm.

"Thanks," Hermione murmured, eyeing the magical orchid on her desk. It was dead. Much worse than it had been at any point since she'd given it to Draco. Even on the worst days, after her most ridiculous antics, it had never looked this bad. It had wilted, yes. Even drooped horribly as if dying, but this…

It had lost most of its petals, and the ones that remained were shrivelled and blackened. The stem curved severely toward the ground, looking brittle and dry.

She doubted there was any coming back from this, but seeing the visual representation of Draco's feelings toward her was a twist of the proverbial knife.

"Cheer up, Hermione," Parvati sang softly. "I learned a lot from your notes these past few days."

Blinking away from the orchid, Hermione looked at her friend.

"And I know there were special circumstances that had Draco staying around, but I think I had a realisation while reading about everything you did."

"Oh?"

Parvati nodded. "You did some manic things, yes. Things that would send nearly every man you met running. But if you'd been doing those things for real, there's bound to be someone out there who would actually like all of those things. Like for me… I know I fall hard and fast, and maybe I'm too… available. I Floo and owl too often. But I don't want to hide parts of myself away from the men I date. I'd rather be myself and chase away ninety-nine percent of the blokes I go out with."

Parvati seemed to be standing taller, speaking louder and more confidently. She shared a broad smile. "Because if they're not going to like that, they're not the men for me. And I bet there's a man out there who won't find those things off putting at all. I bet there's a man who would actually like it, along with every other part of me. And I'm happy to chase a few guys away until I find the one who'll stay."

Overwhelmed, Hermione threw her arms around her friend. "I'm so proud of you. You're right, of course."

Knowing that her article, even in a roundabout way, had helped her friend gain confidence and assurance in herself did make her feel better.

Realising that Parvati's words might help other readers, Hermione pulled away and wiped her eyes. "I think I need to make a few changes to my last column."

Draco opened the top drawer of his desk and located his emergency stash of Pepper Up Potion. He'd been nursing a headache all morning, and the barrage of information he'd just received about the Frosted Phantom case he was taking on certainly wasn't helping.

It had been three days since the Ministry gala and he still hadn't gotten a good night's sleep. Whether it was preparations for going undercover or vivid images of Hermione's tearful eyes as she shouted at him, his mind was just too busy to allow him to rest.

After he downed the contents of the vial, he flopped into his chair and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and willing the potion to act quickly.

He didn't want to return to the conference room. He didn't feel like being here at all. He'd gotten his promotion, but now that it was his and he was facing the prospect of going undercover for an extended period of time, he couldn't be less excited. It felt wrong — being so disenchanted with this case. Perhaps it was just because of what he'd had to do to get here, but it didn't feel like it had been worth it at all.

Something dropped into his lap, and he opened his eyes to see a magazine. Theo stood before him, a pointed look in his eye.

Draco picked up the magazine, grimacing as he realised it was this month's edition of Witch Weekly. The cover sported the cover of the article he'd been most dreading in glimmering gold letters. Hermione Granger reveals: How to Lose a Wizard in 10 Days!

"You should read it," Theo said directly.

Standing up, Draco shoved the magazine into Theo's chest. "Yeah. No thank you." He brushed past Theo and started making his way back to the conference room, where his ten minute break likely still had eight minutes remaining. He suddenly didn't care if he didn't get his full break though, as long as it got him away from talking about Hermione.

"'I lost a wizard, and I don't know why,'" came Theo's voice as he trailed after Draco. "'What went wrong?'"

Draco's feet slowed as he listened to his friend read Hermione's words.

"'When I started writing this month's column, I wanted to commit those silly dating faux pas that keep many women from being able to form deep connections with men. What I didn't realise, however, was that I was making the biggest mistake of all.'" Theo's eyebrows lifted as Draco turned to him. "Just trust me," he said, handing the magazine out.

Hesitantly, Draco took it, his eyes falling upon the tiny photo of Hermione next to the headline. His eyes skimmed the article, certain sentences standing out in the story of their brief and tumultuous courtship.

You see, while I was writing this article, I lost a guy. Not just any guy, but what could have been the one.

I never dreamed that it would break my heart to lose him in the end.

I played a game and I played it too well. When all was said and done, I lost the only guy I've ever fallen for.

This will be my last column for Witch Weekly.

It went on to mention the importance of not just looking for any man, but the right man. Then it concluded with her thanking her readers and a heartfelt goodbye.

Draco's heart pounded in his chest. If the words before him were true, it changed everything. If it was true, then perhaps there was hope for them yet.

"Draco?"

Looking up, he saw Pansy at the entrance to the conference room, one dark eyebrow lifted curiously.

"Are you coming?"

Draco's eyes flickered back to the article.

He and Hermione had both made mistakes over the past week and a half, but Draco had a feeling deep in his stomach that going undercover for half a year would be his biggest mistake of all.

"No," said Draco, looking up at Pansy.

Pansy stared at him incredulously. "What the hell do you mean, 'no'?"

He stepped closer to her, acutely aware of the racing of his heart. "The case is all yours, Parkinson."

Mouth dropping open in shock, Pansy gaped at him.

With a smirk, Draco placed the case file in her hands. "Try not to fuck it up."

Then, without a word to anyone else, he turned and raced from the Auror Department, his thoughts set on a curly haired witch.

Draco hurried through the lobby of Witch Weekly magazine and toward the cubicle desks. There were witches and wizards bustling about, but he didn't see Hermione. Each desk bore a name, and after a bit of searching, he found hers. The desk was clean and empty, the walls of the cubicle completely devoid of photos and personal items. The only thing that remained was the sad remains of their once blossoming love orchid.

He picked it up, examining the wilted, brittle petals. But upon closer inspection, he saw a fresh sprout emerging from the soil, a tiny pink bud at the top.

Hope.

He had to find Hermione. He left her abandoned desk. "Excuse me," he said, tapping a dark haired woman on the shoulder.

She turned, her eyes going wide at the sight of him.

He recognised her as one of the twins from his year at Hogwarts, but he wasn't sure which one she was. "I'm looking for Hermione Granger."

The Patil girl spluttered. "She's not here."

"Where is she?"

"She quit," came a voice from behind him.

Turning, he saw Ginny Weasley approaching him.

"She has an interview," the twin said.

"The Prophet?" Draco guessed.

Ginny shook her head. "It's in New York. Her Portkey leaves at noon."

Draco looked at his watch. It was already half eleven. "Thanks," he said, hurrying toward the exit, orchid in hand.

It would be a miracle if he managed to catch her before her Portkey left. The Department of Magical Transportation was on Level six of the Ministry. And if Draco knew Hermione at all, he'd wager that she was already there. He raced down the stairs and out onto the streets of Diagon Alley. Holding the potted orchid tight to his chest, he spun on the spot and Disapparated.

The Ministry Atrium was as busy as he'd ever seen it. Lunchtime was always chaotic, and Draco had to brush past the hoards of people as he tried to make his way to the lifts.

"Malfoy!"

He looked up sharply, finding Warren in the crowd. His boss looked livid, his face red and his jaw tight as he made his way quickly toward Draco.

"Sir," Draco greeted, his heart pounding.

"What's this Parkinson tells me about you giving up your position on this case?"

Draco glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes until Hermione left. "I'm sorry, sir, but can we discuss this later?"

Warren's eyes narrowed. "You earned this promotion, Malfoy, and now you're telling me you don't want it?"

Draco cleared his throat, wondering what he could say to end this conversation as quickly as possible. "Parkinson is better suited for it, I think. She's the right person for the job."

"You are not the one to make those decisions, Malfoy. I am in charge of case assignments. I decide, do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"So I expect you back in that conference room in five minutes."

Draco swallowed, his heart pounding. "No, sir."

Warren's face purpled. "No?"

"I don't want it, sir."

"Don't want— Do you have any idea how difficult it will be to change the plan of attack at this late juncture? This may set us back weeks in our investigation. Now, I don't have time for your insubordination, Malfoy. You're an Auror, dammit. This is your fucking job."

Sixteen minutes. "I have to go, sir. I'm sorry." He stepped backward away from his boss, hoping that he wasn't ruining his career by doing so, but unwilling to lose Hermione forever because of all of this.

"Malfoy!" Warren barked, his voice echoing through the crowded Atrium. "If you walk away now, you'll be on desk duty for a month. Do you hear me?"

Draco didn't stop. He turned and hurried for the lifts, not bothering to look back when he heard Warren shout, "Two months!"

The trip to the sixth floor was slow. The lift was packed and it stopped at each level on the way to drop people and memos off and let others on. Draco shifted his weight anxiously, his impatience making him fidgety. When at last the lift doors opened to level six, Draco pushed past the people in front of him and took off toward the Portkey Office.

Panting, he skidded to a halt in front of the reception desk, where a mousy-haired receptionist looked up at him from wide eyes behind thick glasses. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes," he gasped. "I'm looking for—"

"Draco?"

Heart seizing, Draco turned to see her standing in the doorway leading to a small waiting area. Hermione.

She looked… tired. Dark circles under her eyes made her lovely face look drawn. Her hair was pulled back into a tame and professional twist to match her crisp blouse and pencil skirt.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her hands clutching her beaded bag tightly.

Draco approached her, magazine in one hand and orchid in the other. "Is this true?" he asked, holding up the magazine.

"What—?"

"Is. It. True?" He repeated, eyes narrowing. "Or were you just trying to sell magazines?"

She shifted her weight between her feet, her eyes darting around the room. "I meant every word."

The tiny flicker of hope he'd felt when he read the article caught, igniting a flame within him. "So, where are you going?"

Her brow furrowed. "I have an interview."

"In New York," said Draco. "Yeah, I know."

He swallowed, taking a step toward her. "Where are you going?"

Hermione sighed, throwing her arms down in a huff. "Draco, it's the only place I can go and write what I want to write."

He shook his head. "I don't buy that. The Daily Prophet is here. And I'd bet they'd be thrilled to have you. I think you're running away."

Eyes narrowing dangerously, Hermione leaned in. "Why don't you save your bets for your next conquest. I am not running away."

They stared at each other, quite close. Draco could see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes and the smattering of freckles on her nose. "Bullshit," he breathed.

Hermione straightened up, taking a half step back from him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he challenged as he invaded her space again. "Bullshit."

"Hermione Granger?"

Both their heads followed the sound to a middle-aged man standing in the doorway to one of the international Portkey rooms. It was time for her to go.

"Yes, just a moment," Hermione peeped, her cheeks red. Looking back to Draco, her mouth opened and closed several times. "Are you calling my bluff?" Her lips upturned, her voice lilting and sweet.

Draco grinned at her. "You bet I am."

He wasn't sure who leaned in first, but their lips met fiercely, passionately. His hands cradled her face as she slanted her mouth against his.

"Three minutes, Miss Granger."

They broke apart, and Draco's heart splintered as she stepped back from him with wide eyes. "I have to go," she murmured. Her eyes dropped, falling on the orchid for the first time. Brows lifting, her lips parted in surprise. "Is that?"

Draco smiled and held the potted plant up, showing off the small green sprout. "Our love orchid."

Pink bloomed on her cheeks as she took in the tiny blossom of his affection for her. Then she smiled at him, and he wondered if he'd ever seen such a genuine and unguarded expression from her. It was breathtaking.

And she was leaving.

Draco reminded himself that it was just an interview, and that he owed it to her to encourage her dreams. "When do you get back?"

"Tomorrow afternoon," she replied.

Thank Merlin for Portkey travel. Draco grinned. "Have dinner with me. Tomorrow night. Anywhere you want."

"Okay," she breathed with a nod.

Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him again, this time softly and delicately. Then, she stepped past him and disappeared with the middle-aged man into the International Portkey room.

Draco stared at the closed door, hoping for a moment that she might change her mind and decide not to go. But as the minutes passed, it was clear that she'd gone after all. He left the Department of Magical Transportation and returned to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

He returned to his desk, knowing that he could expect the reaming of a lifetime from Warren before the day was out. But he didn't care. He had a scheduled date with Hermione to look forward to, and if things worked out with her, he could face the consequences.

The following afternoon, Draco found himself buried under a mountain of paperwork. It seemed that Warren had told all of the other Aurors that Draco would be responsible for their busy work for the next two months. It was a cruel punishment, but every time his eyes fell upon the blooming orchid that now sat on his desk, he couldn't be arsed to mind the inane tasks.

A letter dropped onto his desk, a welcome break from the monotony of his day so far.

His heart leapt as he recognised Hermione's tidy handwriting, and he tore open the envelope without delay.

Draco,

I just got back. Meet me at Il Piacere at seven.

Yours,
Hermione

Il Piacere. It was where they'd gone the night all this began. It seemed fitting that they begin anew there. Perhaps that's why she'd chosen it.

At seven, he was seated at the restaurant, anxiously straightening and re-straightening his cuffs.

When Hermione walked in, Draco felt the air rush from his lungs. She wore a simple navy dress of satin that flowed over her body like water. Chestnut curls fell around her shoulders, and her eyes lit up when she spotted him.

Standing, Draco stepped around the table to pull out her chair for her.

Cheeks tinged pink, she kissed him on the cheek and thanked him before sinking into her seat.

"How was your interview?" he asked as he sat down again.

Hermione's eyes were down as she unfurled her napkin and placed it in her lap. "It was great. I— er— I got the job."

"Oh," he said lamely, his heart sinking. She'd gotten a job in New York. She was going to move an ocean away from him. "That's wonderful," he said woodenly. "Congratulations."

She cleared her throat, shifting in her seat. "Thank you. But I'm not going to take it."

"No?"

Hermione took a sip of her water. "Yeah, I never really wanted to move to New York to begin with. I interviewed with The Daily Prophet the day before last and they owled this morning and offered me a position. A great position, really. I'll finally be able to write pieces I care about."

"So you're not moving?"

She shook her head, her lips curling into a soft smile. "No. I'm not."

Draco couldn't help the grin that took over his face.

The waitress arrived and took their orders. Draco did his best to focus on the food and drink he'd selected, but it was difficult when he was nearly giddy with the news that Hermione wouldn't be leaving the country.

As the waitress left, Hermione's smile faltered. "Draco, I'm — I'm so sorry. About the article, I mean."

Heart sinking, Draco shifted in his seat. He'd known this conversation was coming. As unpleasant as he was sure it was going to be, it was better for them to get it out rather than push it aside and ignore it only for it to bubble up again later on.

"My boss told me that if I impressed her with the article, she'd let me write whatever I wanted. As it turned out, that wasn't true. Even though she ended up loving what I wrote, she was only interested in me writing the same old drivel. That's why I quit. But I feel awful about what I put you through for the sake of it all."

Draco swallowed, and braced himself with a sip of his water. "Why did you pick me? Was I your plan all along? Some sort of revenge for everything I put you through in school?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed as she looked down at her hands anxiously. "It wasn't the plan all along, no. But once you approached me, I'll admit that the idea of irking you for a few days was rather enticing. But that was before—" Her mouth snapped shut as her eyes went wide.

Before she'd fallen for him. It was all in the article, and he believed her when she said it was all real.

"Why did you choose me?" she asked, her brow furrowed hesitantly, like she was afraid of the answer.

"I didn't, actually," he said honestly. "It was Pansy's idea. The promotion would have required me to get close to a female criminal we've been tracking. Pansy suggested that earning your trust would be the ultimate test of my skills."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "I saw her at Witch Weekly that afternoon. My boss told her about the article I was writing."

Draco closed his eyes and shook his head. Pansy had known. She'd been told about the article and chose Hermione for the bet knowing that Draco's life would be made miserable because of it. Perhaps he should have been livid. But all that bubbled out of him was a dry laugh.

"Figures. She always was ruthless when it came to getting her way. That almost makes me sorry I stepped down and gave her the job."

Honey eyes widened. "You what?"

Draco cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "Erm… yeah. Warren offered me the job after the gala. But after I read your piece, I gave it to Pansy."

"Why would you do that?"

Draco took a sip of his water and lowered his voice. "It was an undercover position that would have taken me into the field and kept me out of contact with anyone in my life for several months. They estimated it would be at least a six month mission." He leaned forward slightly, casting his eyes around the restaurant for anyone who appeared to be listening. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them. "I couldn't do that after…"

Eyes glistening, Hermione's lips curled up slightly. "That was foolish, Draco."

Her tone was chastising, but she was smiling at him so sweetly.

"And your boss was alright with the switch?"

Laughing, Draco shook his head miserably. "He was decidedly not alright at all. I've got two months of desk duty to look forward to as punishment."

She looked aghast, but Draco just shrugged. "It's fine. It was worth it."

Blushing, Hermione smiled down at her hands, twisting anxiously in her lap.

"Besides," he pressed on, drawing her eyes back to him. "It means I'll have lots of time to see this girl I fancy. Take her on some real dates."

"How do you know you really fancy her?" Hermione asked, her cheeks pink and her brow furrowed with concern. "If she's been pretending to be someone else recently."

Draco chuckled. "Sure, she was mad for a lot of the time, but she had her moments." He sent her a good-natured smirk. "Moments I'm fairly certain were genuine."

"A few may have been," she replied cryptically before sipping her water.

"Everything at your parents' house, yes?" Draco pried hopefully.

Her eyes snapped to his, wide and shining. Deep pools of honey that Draco wanted to drown in. "Yes," she breathed.

Draco grinned. "In that case, I see no reason why I shouldn't court you properly."

"Court me?" Hermione chuckled. "What century is this?"

"It's the twenty-first century and I intend to court you like it's the nineteenth. Expect the works, Granger. Flowers, gifts, poetry."

With a good-natured wave of her hand, Hermione laughed. "I don't need any of that."

"Then what, pray, do you require, milady?"

Sobering, Hermione regarded him earnestly. "Honesty."

He nodded at once. "You'll have it. From this day forward. No more lies. I promise."

Reaching across the table, he grasped her hand in his.

"No more lies from me either," she vowed. "And I'll never write about you or our relationship again." A pause, then she chuckled lightly. "Not that it would be very likely now that I'll be writing political pieces, but the promise stands."

"I don't expect this will be easy for us," he mused as she turned her hand over in his.

Lips twitching, she entwined her fingers with his. "No, I don't expect it will be. But I still want to try if you do."

They'd promised to take it slowly. To take the time to truly get to know each other before becoming too physical. And with Hermione starting her new job, it was nice to temporarily put the pressure of sex in her new relationship on hold until she felt more settled.

At the same time, she knew that Draco would have welcomed the distraction from the monotony of his desk duty. Guilt gnawed at her each time he asked her about her day and she gushed about the exciting pieces she was working on. And while she knew that Draco hadn't exactly been demoted, the fact that his career had been put on hold as a result of their relationship while hers had progressed left her stomach churning.

But Draco didn't seem to mind in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to revel in her success. Each day he saw her, he asked her what she was working on, and seemed genuinely interested in even the most minute details of her research.

After a month of dating, Hermione's new job took her to Switzerland for three days to cover an international conference on magical cooperation. It was an opportunity she hadn't expected to receive after such a short time with The Daily Prophet, but was thrilled to have the chance to prove herself on such a topic.

When she arrived home in the evening, tired but buzzing with excitement, she was stunned to find Draco in her living room with a bottle of champagne and a hot meal prepared on her dining table.

"What's all this?" she asked, kicking her shoes off and setting her beaded bag on the coffee table.

He rose from the couch and placed a glass of champagne in her hand. "Did you really think I'd pass up the opportunity to hear all about the conference? And congratulate you on your success of course." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Welcome home."

"Thank you," she peeped, sipping from the glass. "You could have waited until tomorrow, you know."

He sighed. "Sadly, no. I have to work."

"But it's Sunday tomorrow!" Hermione protested.

"I know, but it's one of the perks of desk duty, I'm afraid. Rotating weekends. A glowing opportunity for me to do more paperwork."

Hermione frowned, guilt once again bubbling within her. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he insisted, waving his hand. "In a month, I'll be back in the field. I haven't regretted my choice for a minute."

He crossed to the table and gestured broadly. "We have roast chicken, potatoes, and a vegetable medley. No elf labour involved. All prepared by yours truly. And I'm rather pleased with how it turned out, I'll admit."

Affection bloomed in Hermione's chest. She joined him at the table, but didn't pay much mind for the food. Setting her glass down, she reached up and pulled Draco in for a kiss.

"Thank you," she murmured against his lips. Doubling her efforts, she kissed him harder, her hands dragging over his neck to his chest where she flicked open the top button of his shirt.

"What about dinner?" he asked softly, catching on to her intentions immediately.

Humming, Hermione released another button. "A stasis charm will keep it warm for us."

"I thought you wanted to wait," he reminded, his throat bobbing as she kissed along his jaw.

"It's been a month," she replied, standing on tiptoe so that her mouth could reach the spot just below his ear. "That seems long enough to wait to me. Unless you're opposed?"

With a choked laugh, Draco pulled away an inch, his grey eyes searching hers. Then, he waved his wand, keeping his dinner in stasis before he scooped her up and carried her to her bedroom.

As he set her on the bed and began to remove his shirt, Hermione's eyes fell upon the orchid in her window.

In full bloom.

Fin

A/N: There you have it! I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to comment if you're so inclined. I have a few other fics in the works that I'm hoping to begin posing later this fall or early in the spring. I don't know if they'll be posted here, but they will be posted on AO3. You can find links to my profile there and my socials on my twitter (GLfanfic) or my tumblr (graceful-lioness).