Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter & co. - just write what could have been.

AN: Reviews keep me going - please leave your comments, thoughts, etc.! :) hearing your thoughts!

I know, I know, late as always. My personal life - school, govt issues, etc. - has been kicking my butt, so apologies! This is the end, my friends! Gracias a todos por leer :] Thank you to everyone who followed & made comments - you're the best!

Shout out to my beta, A.

Final Chapter

The Malfoy mausoleum was charmed to only show the most recently departed members of the Malfoy family. It was also charmed with an extension spell, so it appeared modest from the outside, but the confides of the inside were eerily big. The mausoleum itself was nearby the rose gardens that Narcissa tended to so lovingly and Hermione couldn't help to think it was because of the departed themselves that drove Narcissa's devotion. What better way to honor the dead then to have beautiful living plants around them? The entry way was made of a canopy of ivy, the graves all different stones. Lucius Malfoy's tomb appeared clean and new in a row of old graves. There was already one single, white rose laid on it. Lucius' tomb was made of a dark type of rock that Hermione didn't bother to inspect more closely. Even though it was barely autumn, she was cold. Hermione wore a simple black dress to the previous Malfoy Lord's intimate funeral. The cotton dress stopped right above her knees and was long-sleeved, but even then, Hermione casted a warming spell on her person. There was a peter pan collar but also black, it blended with the rest of the plain dress. She paired it off with black stockings and her unused, matching black, mary janes. She couldn't be bothered this morning to tame her curls especially after a terrible sleep, so she opted to let her hair free. Her brown hair was everywhere, with a lone, black headband to keep her hair from her face. Even then, some riotous curls framed her face. If she wasn't a funeral, Hermione would have remarked she was an extra from the Addams family. Narcissa was to the far left of her, quietly crying in a white handkerchief. The witch was also dressed as plainly as Hermione had seen her, but still looked as chic as ever. Instead of witch's robes, Narcissa opted for high-waisted, black trousers with a loose, ruffled black blouse. She wore a long, veiled fascinator hat – the veil reaching her elbows – and black gloves. When Hermione had greeted all of them, she could feel the strain the family was going under; while Hermione knew funerals were a sad affair, she was surprised anyone could feel grief for Lucius Malfoy. Hermione could see Narcissa's blue eyes spotted red from her crying. This was the first time Hermione had felt bad for Lucius Malfoy; to see his family mourn him was a forlorn experience. Andromeda was to the left of her sister, and Hermione barely caught a glimpse from greeting her. She was quickly moved to Draco's side at the sight of his stoic expression. The older Black sister was dressed similarly to Hermione, but her dress was longer, and she wore black gloves as well. Blaise, Theo, and Pansy were already besides Draco, trying their best to be there for him. Blaise and Theo sported three-piece, black suits – all expensive looking like their usual attire was. Pansy was dressed in a large, almost triangle sized, dress that ended right above her black, five-inch heels. She also wore a fascinator, but the veil was quite short. Pansy also wore light makeup, maybe in fear she would ruin it with her tears, but Hermione found that it looked lovely on her face. She styled on black, mesh gloves that scarcely covered her knuckles. Hermione quickly greeted the trio, kissing their cheeks as she had become accustomed to their introductions, before setting her eyes on Draco. There wasn't anything different in his choice of outfit – customary, three-piece, posh, black suit – but Hermione could see a necklace and his signet ring. Besides that, he looked like he hadn't slept in days; his eyes had bags, his pupils red tinted, his lips chapped, and his face without colour. His hair was messy, which Hermione didn't mind but she knew Draco preferred a cleaner look. The trio murmured some words, Hermione couldn't quite catch, and left them alone so they could speak with the witches behind them. Hermione reached for Draco's hands. Even though he looked like he might fall over from sleep deprivation, he caught her hands hastily.

"I'm worried about you."

Hermione whispered to him, looking up at his unnaturally pale face. She hadn't seen him in a few days, but he looked like he had been away for longer. After the soft launch of his and Blaise's club, Draco was busier than ever even more so handling his father's memorial service with his mother. Hermione assumed he didn't want to plan such a ceremony but couldn't leave his mother to do it by herself. Hermione also wondered about the Malfoy family magic and if that made him responsible for the managements of a member's death. A small smirk appeared on Draco's lips, but the action caused a crack on his dry lips and a small amount of blood leaked from them. Draco licked it away, the action not even causing a small flinch.

"I'm sorry to worry you."

He responded. Hermione frowned, letting go of his left hand to place her hand on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes as if she was his reprieve from the world. Maybe she was and that caused a small warmness in her chest.

"Come to my flat afterwards."

She told him. A normal reaction would have been a tease or a smile from her wizard, but he gave her nothing. After a few seconds of silence from him, the soft chatter of his family and friends behind him and the rustling ivy, Hermione added,

"Please."

Draco eventually nodded, opening his eyes as he pulled away.

"It's time."

He said at the same time his mother said,

"Let us begin."

The ceremony was hazy to Hermione; she heard Andromeda speak on Narcissa's behalf and saw some wand movement, but all Hermione could focus on was the uncanny way Draco stood still besides her. She knew he was dissociating – an understandable response to Draco's feelings about his father. Even if she didn't personally like him, or anyone else for that matter, that didn't mean his only son couldn't have complicated feelings toward him. Towards the end, Draco's hand tightened around Hermione's, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. Hermione squeezed his hand in response, her free hand reaching out to hold onto his arm. He could hear his mother's sniffles and his aunt's quiet reassurances. Blaise, Theo, and Pansy stood behind them, and all four of them stoic for they had no tears to shed for Lucius Malfoy.

Andromeda offered to host tea at her house where they followed via apparation. Andromeda was helping her sister as best as she could, knowing Narcissa was in no state to entertained even if they were in her home. Hermione hadn't visited Andromeda's in quite some time, but her home reminded her of an amalgam architectural style of muggle and magical. Her house was warm like Molly Weasley's home was and Hermione appreciated it; her heart ached from missing her own parents. She briefly wondered where Teddy was at but remembered Harry mentioning in a letter, he had started going to daycare a few days of the week to socialize. Andromeda had a quaint sunroom where they all sat around a wooden, metal rectangle table and an expensive, navy tea set placed in front of them, assorted biscuits, and jams as well. Hermione sipped her tea with honey, finding herself in one of the rare moments without having anything to say. The funeral had drained her energy, she was feeling cold and tired. She desperately missed her own parents, never allowing time to mourn them but losing them regardless.

"Is this a Black family heirloom?"

Theo asked, his index finger moving around the cup's handle. Hermione eyed the small bird engraved in the stone but didn't say anything. Her free hand was grasped in Draco's hand, his tea left cold, and his eyes glazed over. She didn't pull away, offering her best as she could.

"It is."

Narcissa answered with a small smile on her pale lips. Andromeda smirked at her younger sister but didn't respond verbally. The elder Black was making her tea very sweet with loads of honey and milk.

"I gave it to Meda as a wedding gift."

Narcissa said. Hermione perked up at the sound of Andromeda's nickname on Narcissa's lips, smiling gently at the sweetness the blonde sister said it. She was happy, even for a moment, that the sisters were getting along well and making up for lost time. They all had lost so much in the war.

"Even though there was no signature."

Andromeda stated a smirk still in place. Narcissa's small smile faded away and fresh tears appeared causing Hermione to quickly look away. Seeing Narcissa cry reminded her of Draco's unshed tears and that stung her too much to witness.

"I'm sorry, Andy."

She heard Narcissa whisper another forgotten nickname to her sister. Pansy cleared her throat, directing the quartet's attention to her.

"Let's go to the gardens."

She said, standing up to have them follow her. The gardens were hardly grand or populated like the Malfoy gardens, but they wanted to give the sisters privacy. Narcissa had buried her husband, but she still had family to focus on. Hermione nodded but Draco didn't budge and when she tried to get up to trail after the trio, he held her hand down. Hermione looked back quizzically at her boyfriend before she noticed that the Black sisters also left. She just managed to catch a glimpse of their backs retreating into the house.

"Draco?"

She asked him. He turned to her, at the sound of voice, and looked at her; he had a look of fierce determination in his eyes and some color finally back on his cheeks.

"I love you, Hermione."

He declared. Hermione's heart swooped, her blood rushing to her face, and her eyes widened. This was not something she expected right after the funeral of his father. Logically, Hermione knew that intense emotions would surface, but she didn't think of this.

"Wh-what?"

She stammered.

"I know it's sudden to you, but after today, you support me despite everything solidifying my feelings for you."

Hermione watched his profile light up and couldn't help the warmth she was feeling.

"I love you, Hermione."

He said louder and leaned into her. Draco stopped holding her hand and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. She inhaled his scent – the scent that had become so familiar to her it made her miss him on the days she didn't see him. She hugged him back.

"You don't need to say it back because I know it's sudden, but I wanted you to know."

He whispered in her ear.

"You're it for me, Granger."

He said as he pulled away, tucking a loose strand from her face away. She let her arms fall back into her lap. His gray eyes looked into hers, a smile on his now pink lips, his rosy cheeks showing the sign of life that was not their previously.

"Just let me know if I'm too serious for you then I can stop professing my feelings, but they're there."

Draco finally said to her. For the second time today, Hermione was mute. Her heart was racing. Jumble thoughts popped into her head faster than she, she, Hermione Jean Granger, could comprehend them.

"You love me?"

She asked, the whisper barely there. The only thought that formulated clearly in her head enough to come out of her mouth. He nodded.

"You barely know me, Draco."

She said. He rolled his eyes at her, leaning away, and for a brief second, Hermione was terrorized that she had pushed him away.

"I've watched you all my childhood, pined for you for most of my adolescence. I don't want to go into my life without you by my side, Granger. I'm yours."

He replied, his tone growing softer. Draco leaned back in, placing his forehead on hers, closing his eyes so Hermione could stare at the almost translucent eyelashes.

"I'll wait for you however long it takes for you to reciprocate my feelings, but I'm not going anywhere Hermione."

He said gently.

"Thank you."

She whispered back, finally closing her eyes, feeling like she found something she never thought she could. Home, she couldn't help but to think.

.

.

.

Fall and winter passed, the holidays spent with the people Hermione loved the most. She spent Halloween with Harry and Ron at Hogwarts, after classes were done to avoid the stares and whispers that followed the three. She spent Samhain with Draco and Pansy and learned a lot of old rituals and chants; magic never ceased to amaze her. She watched Pansy help Draco learn a necromancy ritual, but one that only communicated with the dead, if he so wanted to speak with his father later in life. While necromancy was most definitely outlawed and thought as a dark art, Hermione could not see the harm in having closure. Who was she to judge how some people found closure and she secretly made a mental note to ask George if he wanted to learn it. She spent Yule with the Weasleys and Harry then the pair went to Andromeda's for she had invited them along with her sister, nephew, and their friends. She spent New Year's Eve with Draco and her friends, having a party at his and Blaise's club. They didn't celebrate Valentine's Day, but only because Hermione was out of the country with her boss to negotiate werewolf lands that they needed. Now Hermione was helping Narcissa prepare for Ostara, looking at the Black family tomes for rituals to make this year a smoother one than last. The pair of witches were in Narcissa's study room, but the older witch had excused herself to check on dinner. Hermione rubbed her eyes gently, yawning; they had spent the better part of the afternoon making sure the rituals chosen were for blessings and happiness opposed to wealth or fame, which were a lot in the Black tome. Then the rest of the written rituals were for fertility which Narcissa made a quiet joke about that had Hermione choking on her tea. That earned a smirk from the Malfoy matriarch from the younger, blushing witch. Hermione decided it was time for a break and stood up, turning around into one Draco Malfoy. He smiled down at her gently as she mirrored him, looking up at his handsome face. They were reaching a year of being together and Hermione was falling for him every day. He still stunned Hermione in his aristocratic handsomeness, in his simple colored dress shirts and trousers. He still preferred dark colors opposed to light, but Hermione knew he dressed in white and blue for her and Narcissa. Today he was wearing a white dress shirt with dark brown trousers. Draco reached for her in some way every time they had a moment to themselves; this time he placed his left hand on the side of her neck, putting pressure on it. Hermione leaned into him, enjoying his ministrations.

"Good evening."

He murmured. Before Hermione could respond, his lips were on hers. Soft, tender kisses morphed into deeper, adoring ones when Draco's right hand claimed her waist, pulling her close to him. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck in response, melding her body into his. Since their first night together, a month or so after they began dating, Hermione couldn't keep her hands to herself – much less body. They ended up snogging for longer than anticipated, bodies flushed from their joined want. Hermione couldn't say no to Draco's splattered kisses on her neck, his left hand reaching for her breast, his erection pressed against her belly. Hermione blushed at the fact that they were behaving so brazenly in his mother's private area. That snapped her back from her lust to present moment. Inhaling deeply, she lightly leaned away from her wizard. He nipped her neck, biting harder than Hermione expected before he sucked and licked. Hermione shivered, becoming puddy in his hands. Damn him, Hermione couldn't help but to think. Draco chuckled softly in her neck before sighing. He straightened himself up, hands falling to her waist, and she adjusted herself as well. This was the version that Hermione loved the most about her boyfriend. He was smiling, cheeks flushed with color, his pale lips pink and swollen. He's unearthly, Hermione swallowed. Sometimes the intense emotions she felt for Draco Malfoy scared her. She felt like she was falling more rapidly and felt this consuming fire for him. Isn't that love? A nagging voice asked her which she dismissed.

"I have a surprise for you, my love."

He whispered to her, a twinkle in his cloudy eyes. Draco often called her pet names in private, and Hermione was charmed by his constant affections. However, my love was new. Hermione smiled at him, curiosity filling her.

"What is it?"

She asked. Draco's right hand left her waist to reach in his trouser pocket, pulling out a piece of parchment paper. Hermione quizzically looked at him, dropping her arms from him to reach for it. Draco stood still, letting his left hand to fall from her as well. The tenseness in him made her nervous as she looked at the paper. It appeared to be a potion's ingredients list.

"Demiguise's nail clippings… Pickled sloth brain… Mixed in a non-working time turner's dust at the first light of the vernal equinox… Draco!"

Hermione gasped at the end of the list. Tears prickled her eyes as she looked back to him. He was still nervous, no smile or smirk in place, but his eyes searching her face as he closed his hands into fists.

"I believe I found a way to restore your parent's memories. My mother and aunt helped me along with Theo and Potter."

He whispered. Hermione's heart was at her throat, and she couldn't stop the tears from her falling. Shortly after their first coupling, Hermione spoke to Draco more about the decision to save her parents and how it haunted her still. Draco offered to help her research from the ancient Black and Malfoy tomes, but Hermione told him perhaps later when they both weren't so busy with their careers. It seemed he had done it on his own accord. With the help of her friends and his family. Hermione felt her tears fall quicker. Draco looked crestfallen for a second before she jumped into his arms, the pair falling on his mother's carpeted floor.

"I love you."

She said. His arms tightened around her, his cheek resting against her head.

"I'll always love you, Granger."

He replied. Hermione inhaled his scent, decorum no longer a pressing matter in her mind. She had found it; she had found her home.