A/n: WE DID IT! Only took almost two years, but we did it. I'm proud of us. Thank you so, so, so much for your support throughout this writing of this story. It has been such a joy for me to share it with you. I've loved reading your comments and I hope you'll continue to show it love even now that it's finished. A very special thank you to my alpha reader: LaDeeDaa and my beta reader: astrangefan without whom I could not have finished.

Epilogue

Almost one year later…

Draco threw the paper onto the kitchen island and rubbed his temples.

Death Eater responsible for the breach of Hogwarts to be made free at midnight

He didn't bother to read the rest. Over the year of his probation, he'd watched the narrative take shape and the sides formed. Just as nearly everyone with half a brain predicted, the Wizengamot was facing a mounting backlash from a vocal minority of people who felt they were a little too sympathetic towards the 'bad guys'. Nevermind that Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger - the three responsible for saving them from the bad guys - had all of a sudden become lumped together with the likes of Death Eaters merely for believing in human rights.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. It was hard for people to call out Potter as a traitor. The respect for him ran deep. Draco could understand that. They'd been deifying the guy since he was in diapers. Not many wanted to attack Weasley on account of his family and their good standing in the community. Which left Hermione to receive the brunt of the attacks as far as the Golden Trio were concerned. Draco wasn't surprised at all by that. Strike one, she was a woman. Strike two, she was muggleborn. Strike three, she was better than all of them by orders of magnitude and jealousy was a powerful drug.

It didn't stop him from wanting to use his newish wand and burn down the Daily Prophet as well as the 'Mothers for a Safe Society' headquarters. Yes, they'd even given themselves an insufferable name. The MSS was formed by a particularly irritating bunch of pearl clutchers who caught wind of McGonagall trying to update the House System. Their grievances were varied and absurd, and Draco was just pleased that none of them were on the Board at Hogwarts - yet.

All of that said, there was finally a legitimate competitive paper to The Daily Prophet. After some consideration, Luna Lovegood decided that The Quibbler was not the vehicle for serious journalism. She continued to produce it, but she'd expanded to open a new publishing house and along with it, The Evening Stargazer, which was the best produced counter to the bullshite The Prophet produced daily. Luna had a decent staff and the paper was becoming increasingly popular.

Internal polls suggested that there was a 60/40 split in his favour on whether or not Draco had received a fair punishment. The 40 were just much more motivated to crow about it. To tell the truth, he couldn't wait to get out of Britain.

Hermione visited nearly every weekend - except when she had pressing business - and that had been the thing that kept him going these long months. Considering all the things he'd had to do to rectify his estate, set up his mother's accounts, and ready her for her big move to San Tropez - not to mention his many mind healer appointments and Theo and Pansy being generally intrusive - he barely had time to miss Hermione through the week, but when she arrived everything else fell away. Merlin, he had no idea how he'd survived without her.

As he got better, as his mind healed more and he got a better handle on his inner demons, as his mother became healthier and more self-sufficient, and as Theo and Pansy made plans to move to Paris, his nights grew lonelier and longer. Sodding Harry Potter knew it, and he made himself a nuisance occasionally, stopping over to bring his mother warm dishes that the prettier Patil made, lingering to ask Draco how he was and if he needed anything.

Annoying twat.

But all of that was nearly over. One night. One more night in the old mansion that had been the beginning of his life with Hermione, then he'd be free. His portkey was already set.

He looked around. He would miss the place. There were so many memories tied to this house - good and bad. He hoped he could talk Hermione into keeping it - at least for a while. He wasn't sure he was ready to let it go, even if they did live in Switzerland.

Looking out the kitchen window he could see Theo's flowers growing like mad. Beautiful blooms of pink, blue, purple, white, and green brought the once desolate garden to life. Theo still came over to cultivate them multiple times a week. He wondered idly how his best friend would manage without access to a large bit of land like this when he moved to Paris. Yet another reason to keep the house.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Draco let out a long sigh and turned toward the French doors that led to the back garden. There was Potter's owl. He rolled his eyes but let the bird in. It flew to the island countertop, dropped a letter there, and then quickly flew to the kitchen window where a box of treats sat. Nibbling a few pellets, the bird flew back out the open door without so much as a backward look. Apparently, the Annoying One didn't need a response.

Draco opened the letter and skimmed it.

Malfoy,

Congratulations on the end of your probation. I know you said you didn't need any help preparing for the portkey, but if that changes, I'm but a Floo call away. Tell Hermione we love and miss her. And don't let her think that because you have moved to Switzerland, she doesn't need to come back home nearly as often as before.

Take care of her.

Harry

It was annoyingly sentimental. Take care of her. That was an oath that Draco intended to hold himself to until he breathed his last breath. Reluctantly, Draco could admit that he sort of liked Potter. The guy knew when to step in and when to leave something alone. He was Gryffindor through and through, but he had some ability to 'read the room' and adjust accordingly.

The same could not be said for Hermione's other best friend. He'd thank Weasley every day for the rest of his life for his role in keeping Hermione safe throughout the course of their lives, but he'd never be friends with Ronald Weasley. He was loud, uncouth, and had no sense of decorum or social awareness. It set Draco's teeth on edge. Theo'd said it was what made Ron special. Draco just rolled his eyes.

As if summoned by thought, Draco heard the fireplace roar to life and Theo's voice called out from the main room. He sighed and made his way to the Floo. There in the orange-blue flames was Theo's head, his black curls momentarily red from the glint of the firelight.

"Theo," Draco greeted.

"Just checking in on you, mate," Theo said with a small smile.

"I'm perfectly capable of spending the night alone in this house. I've done it countless times," Draco replied tiredly. Everyone in his life was a mother hen all of a sudden.

Theo rolled his eyes. "I'm checking in on you before you move off to a new country to be with the love of your life, Draco, not making sure you don't get scared of ghosts in the night."

It was Draco's turn to roll his eyes. "I'll be fine. Everything I plan to take has been sent ahead and I'd leave at midnight if I could have gotten an early portkey."

"Okay, well, I also wanted to let you know that we checked in with your mother this evening and she's doing very well. The sun is agreeing with her. She's beginning to look like her old self," Theo reported.

That made Draco truly smile. "Thank you, Theo." He'd be forever grateful to Theo Nott Jr. for many things, but mostly that he'd taken Narcissa as a surrogate mother of his own and had made the move to France and his separation from his mother as pain free for both of them as possible. Magical transportation aside, it had been hard for Draco to let his mother go - especially after everything they'd been through. However, she was still a relatively young witch and she deserved to live a full life. Her mind healer thought that a program in San Tropez might be exactly what she needed and that was all Draco needed to hear to make arrangements for it.

Luckily, there still was some Malfoy money to be had, just significantly less than before. It was plenty for his mother to live a comfortable life and set aside a decent savings as well. Draco hadn't yet decided what he wanted to do with his professional life, so dipping into that savings might come sooner rather than later. He hoped not.

Not that Hermione wasn't obscenely rich on her own, but Draco hated to think of her supporting him forever. Part of his journey to recovery and self-acceptance was creating his own independence and autonomy as a person - he'd never really had any. First it was his father, then The Dark Lord, then Hermione. And while Hermione would never take advantage of his unyielding allegiance, he had to be able to survive on his own - at least economically.

"It's no problem," Theo assured him, breaking him from his thoughts. "Pansy is sending the swatches for your Name Day robes for when the baby is born. They should be there when you arrive." The fact that Pansy had gotten pregnant mere months after their wedding had shocked Draco. He'd never known her to have any interest at all in mothering. Things, apparently, had changed, and pregnancy suited her. She was bossier than ever, but he'd never seen her happier. Theo was over the moon.

"Sure," Draco nodded.

"Be quick about it!" he heard Pansy yell from some place behind Theo's shoulder and he snickered.

"Okay, I'm off," Theo declared. "Hermione is going to insist you get one of these mobile devices when you get up there," he added. "Embrace it, Draco. It's so much faster than the Floo or Owls."

"We'll see," Draco said, pursing his lips. She'd tried before and failed. The bloody thing was tiny and fiddly. He'd broken the first one in 6 hours.

Theo shut off the floo and Draco returned to the kitchen, cleaning the last of the dishes before making his way back up to the room he used to share with Hermione. He double checked his travelling case for all the things he needed and, from the top drawer of his bedside table, pulled out a beat up copy of For Whom the Bell Tolls that he'd been reading. . He was asleep by the fourth paragraph.

Draco's heart hammered in his chest and he took a deep breath before picking up the thimble that he'd carefully placed on Hermione's vanity the night before. Immediately he felt the jarring sensation of a hook pulling his middle as he was squeezed through the portal.

After a handful of seconds, he was deposited unceremoniously onto deep brown hardwood floors laid in a charming herringbone pattern.

"DRACO!" he heard her voice before he saw her, still trying to get his bearings and not throw up his dinner from the night before as Hermione lunged into his arms.

He pulled her close and held onto her for dear life as he breathed in her scent, her hair tickling his nose as he centred himself. "Hermione," he breathed, barely audible.

She squeezed him tighter almost so that it hurt, but he had no complaints. He just breathed her in for what seemed like ten minutes before she loosened her grip and he leaned back to look at her. She was smiling, tears in the corner of her eyes, her hair wild just like he loved it. "I'm so glad you are here," she said, her voice cracking slightly.

"Me too," he replied. "Though, I admit, I might need some tea to settle my stomach."

"Oh!" she cried, unhanding him at once. "Sometimes I forget that not everyone takes portkeys multiple times a week," she said with a chuckle. "Come," she took him by the hand and led him through what he assumed was the foyer of her apartment. It was well decorated, and Draco noted as she pulled him through a hallway past a living room that it was well appointed, with luxurious furnishings that he knew very well Hermione didn't pick out for herself. He smiled at the thought. She was being well cared for in Switzerland. He was glad to see it.

When they entered the kitchen Hermione started the kettle and Draco took the moment as her back was turned to pull out the trinket that had been weighing on him for months. Placing it upon the kitchen table at the centre of the room he let out a shaky breath.

"Hermione," he waited for her to turn, and when she did he watched as the inquisitive look fell from her face as her eyes zeroed in on the ring lying there and he could see her calculate the weight of its meaning as she looked up at him, back down at the ring, and up at him again.

"Draco…" she breathed, looking back up at him.

"I know it's not romantic. I'd had a million plans to take you to the finest restaurant, or ask you this when we were in Paris next to the Eiffel Tower, but to be honest, I think we've waited long enough, don't you?" he asked, locking eyes with her as she stared back at him.

"Hermione, I love you. I want to be with you forever. This ring is for you - it was made for you," he finished leaving the implied question hanging between them.

He watched her slowly move toward the table and pick up the ring. She examined it for a moment before a smile spread across her lips and he felt his heartbeat louder in his ears. "Of course, I love you too. Let's plan a wedding."

Draco dropped into the chair next to him, his legs finally giving out from the adrenaline he'd been running on, and Hermione moved to his side, settling in his lap and handing over the ring so he could slip it on her finger. He kissed her knuckles as he did. "You're free, Draco. What will we do now?" He didn't care as long as she was with him.

Ten Years Later…

"It is with great honour that I introduce you to the next Minister of Magic - Mr. Harry Potter!"

The crowd cheered and Harry and Parvati stood, smiling and waving, on the dais with their two little boys hiding behind their mother's robes. Draco clapped along with the crowd, though, he wasn't quite as effusive as his wife. Hermione was on her tiptoes - a wonder she didn't fall over at nearly eight months pregnant - and hollered her excitement at the news of the newest elected Minister of Magic.

If you'd told Draco even five years prior that Potter would run for and win the position as the head of the British Ministry, he'd have told you that you were barmy. But after a particularly rough half decade since he'd left the island for Switzerland and a new life, Britain has been through major upheaval - political unrest that required international intervention as well as a special, incorruptible leader. Potter did fit the bill.

The tolerant Wizengamot was viciously attacked over and over, terrorist attacks, attempted coups, and violence in the streets erupted over the new Death Eater trials as well as the new reforms to help Britain stay relevant and connected to the continent. Hermione had worked hard to integrate Britain into international and European Union accords that were initially seen as anti-sovereignty 'globalist' attempts to force Britons to adhere to the standards of an entity of elites far off in Geneva.

After a particularly bloody overtaking of the Ministry by armed militants where hundreds of people were killed, the International Criminal Courts stepped in, though, at that point, the violent mob had overstayed their limited welcome with the people who were more and more inclined toward progressive reforms over holding on to old grievances. Under Shacklebolt, Britain signed the European Unity and Wizarding Rights Accords - partially written by Hermione herself. He stepped down not long after leaving a vacancy that everyone with a brain knew had to be filled with the right person. Potter was the natural choice.

He'd fought it at first. Hermione and Harry had argued endlessly about it for weeks. He enjoyed his job, and besides, he didn't know anything about leading a government. Hermione reminded him he'd been leading his entire life and politics can be learned. Finally, Parvati was the one who convinced her husband to go for it. 'Think of the boys' future, Harry. You don't want them to leave Britain at the first chance, do you?' Harry had finally been convinced.

It was this huge victory that had Draco and Hermione considering a move back to Britain. For his part, Draco didn't care if they ever returned, but he knew his wife missed it desperately. She spent a small fortune on portkeys back and forth and the unrest had deeply disturbed her. She worked so hard to fix Britain and he wanted her to be able to enjoy the fruits of her labour.

Theo wanted to return too, but Pansy was an absolute Parisian at this point. In the end, Theo would be 'at home' wherever Pansy and their two girls were. Draco was happy for them. If anyone deserved to be happy it was Theo. He smiled thinking of how happy Theo was in his life, how he now owned enough land to have a garden of his own. Last time they'd been in France, he'd spent hours just watching Theo teach his daughters to tend to it, grow beautiful flowers, and pick berries from their very own patch.

Now that he and Hermione were expecting, he envisioned such happiness for himself. They'd waited a long time to come to the decision to even have a family. Initially, Hermione was unsure. Draco was in no position to press the issue. He didn't know if he even had it in him to be a good father, as his own hadn't been a great example.

Just as she was finishing up the Accords and it became more and more obvious that Harry would take on the role of Minister in the new political era, Hermione seemed to change her mind on having kids overnight. Draco had felt the urge to bring it up countless times in the year leading up to her revelation that she was thinking of starting a family but he didn't want to push the issue. She'd been very busy and her career was so important not only to her, but to millions of people. But he'd have been lying if he didn't say he'd been elated when she brought it up. Three months later, Hermione was pregnant with their first child.

Now, nearly eight months later they were back in Great Britain. They'd decided to live in her parents' old house - happy she'd held onto it all these years. In spite of all the years he lived in Malfoy Manor, that beautiful English Tudor in Surrey was the only place that ever felt like home. He'd raise his son in the same house Hermione had grown up in, he'd swing on the same old tire that hung from the massive oak tree in their garden and look out at the colourful flowers his uncle Theo tended every few months. He'd never wonder if he was loved. He'd be safe, loved, and this was the legacy Draco and Hermione would leave for him. A free, fair, good world.