It was close to midnight by the time the concert ended, and Harry and Ginny led the group back out of the stadium so they could go to a nearby pub. Hermione would be tied up for a while yet, and he hadn't been able to get a message to her to invite her along for afters anyway. She'd been incredibly busy with rehearsals and appearances for the muggles. They'd been able to meet up two or three times since she arrived in the country, but it had always been brief and low-key, and neither had mentioned the proverbial D-Day.

Ron and Lavender had left with Percy and Penelope after the third song, and Molly had gone with them. Harry understood, and he knew Hermione would too. Percy was extremely uptight - always had been - and his wife wouldn't have stayed without him. Ron might've been able to push through after he realized the second song was about him, if it wasn't for the following one being about money. It was difficult to tell which topic bothered him more. Harry couldn't deny being glad that Ron hadn't stayed long enough to hear Hermione sing 'Traitor'.

Arthur waved the group on as he slipped away in the crowd to find a safe place to disapparate. He was sweaty and flushed from the show - he'd had the time of his life! He knew his Mollywobbles would be on the warpath and would try to head her off before their children arrived on Sunday for lunch. He wasn't sure he'd have much luck, but the gentle man had always cared for Hermione and would do his best, if not for her than for Harry and Ginny. His daughter had surprised him by knowing some of the words to the songs! She had told him between numbers that she'd heard the new album before (it was Harry's - and didn't that make so much sense to her now!) and had enjoyed it so much that she listened to it regularly without ever knowing that Hermione and 'Denim' were the same person!

The remaining wizards and witches still made an impressive group as they trailed out of the venue grounds, all chattering loudly about the show.

"That was brilliant!"

"I can't believe that was Hermione Granger!"

"D'you reckon she wrote all those songs?"

"I can't believe she didn't tell us! How'd she keep it so secret?"

"I need a pair of those boots."

"Of all the things we thought she'd do after school, I'd never have guessed this!"

"I wonder if we can get tickets again for tomorrow?"

"I still can't believe it!"

"I really need a pair of those boots!"

By the time Harry had located a busy pub filled with other concert goers, it was really only the Gryffindors of their year remaining, plus Ginny of course, and Draco with his three Slytherin friends. The rest of the old DA had been invited but had peeled off somewhere along the way.

Fleur was pregnant again and Bill had quit drinking in solidarity so they had gone home, as did Luna, although she insisted Neville stay out with the others. With the rest of the adults, well, the older adults gone, Lucius and Narcissa took their leave too. Only after ensuring that Draco would join them for breakfast the following morning, of course.

They piled in around a small table in the back, yelling out drink orders, squashed against one another until they could snag a second table that vacated shortly after their arrival. Shoving the two tables together and pinching some abandoned barstools they managed to put together a comfortable enough space for everyone to pile in, with jugs of beer and shots being shared about. For a while there was just noise, until some of the muggles moved on to more popular clubs. Seamus left with a wink and a pretty muggle girl, and Padma raced off to the Daily Prophet offices to get a new headline printed for tomorrow's paper. Harry had hoped she would - he would rather Padma print the article instead of Rita Skeeter, and he knew Hermione would agree. The Ravenclaw alumni deserved a big break after years of being left with the less important articles.

It was almost half-one before they could hear each other speak without yelling, and Malfoy turned to Harry. "So Potter, how long have you known?"

"Since the beginning," he mumbled around the rim of his drink. He knew the questions would come, but he'd been hoping to handle it with Hermione, instead of for her.

"Which was...?" Everyone quieted down, listening closely now.

"After graduation," he paused. "1999."

The table was struck dumb for a moment as they looked around at each other, wondering what to ask and where to begin. It was Neville of all people, who downed the rest of his drink and raised a hand to the barman to signal another round and then turned to address Harry: "Tell us everything."

So he did.

Over several more rounds, he told them about her background - something that shocked everyone except for Draco and Ginny, as Hermione had told Draco herself during their fling and Harry had told Gin the night before. He told them about the real reason behind Hermione's move to the USA (No, she wasn't studying at a muggle university. Yes, she did plenty of travelling though). He told them how even he hadn't heard all of her songs yet, and had never seen her perform until tonight. She'd sent him a few demos from The Phoenix but he'd never heard it in full, although he listened to The Dragon regularly thanks to Ginny's ignorant enjoyment.

"The thing is, she never expected to become so successful at it," he shook his head as he spun yet another empty glass around. "She refused her Dad's help on it since she didn't want special treatment and I think it really took her by surprise when she got signed from her first real demo. 'Mione told me that she promised her parents she'd give the whole music thing a go as a condition of her being allowed to go to Hogwarts. I guess she'd always been around it and they paid for instrument and singing lessons when she was a kid, but I don't think she really thought she could do it until it happened. That's why she developed that rune you saw in the photo. She thought if she kept her muggle life separate to the magical one then she could succeed or fail in private. The Prophet was following our every move then -"

"They still do," added Neville, while the others nodded in agreement.

"- and the last thing she wanted was to be watched as she tried to "make it" in the muggle world. Plus, she's known as the bloody Brightest Witch of Her Age! Do you really think the wizarding world would have understood her taking off to be a muggle pop star? No, it was easier to keep it hidden. So, she used the rune and told everyone she was studying and travelling in America."

"It's pretty clever," said Dean Thomas, drawing attention to the other end of the table. "Classic Hermione, really. I spend heaps of time with muggles and I've heard all about Denim. I've read magazines that she's in and seen TV interviews and I never made the connection."

"Yeah but then why tell everyone now?" slurred Parvati. She was leaning quite heavily into Dean now, having well surpassed her usual three drink limit over the course of the night.

"Because she couldn't keep refusing gigs in the UK. It was starting to look strange - an English artist refusing to play in her home country? No. Apparently people were already starting to ask questions. And honestly I don't know if she would've been able to keep it up much longer anyway. Her first tour was completely sold out - they had to add more shows to keep her fans happy. And she's already received awards for some of her music which is supposedly unheard of for someone as new to it as she is," Harry looked to Dean to back him up.

Dean obliged. "Yeah she's pretty big over there. Way bigger than here but with this tour that'll change for sure. One of her songs from The Phoenix got something like 36 million hits in one night!" Nobody else at the table understood what that meant, aside from Harry, but it sounded impressive nonetheless. He continued, "It would only be a matter of time before someone uncovered it, now that she's back in the country. If the rune is the key, it would only take one witch or wizard to see it and then go tattling to the media."

"Exactly. She wanted to have some control over it though, which is why she had me send out all these tickets. She didn't want you lot to hear about it through the papers," finished Harry. They all knew that he was talking about the Weasleys and the old DA gang. The Slytherins had been quiet throughout the telling, until now.

"So why are we here then?" demanded Pansy, looking between Potter and Draco as she gestured to herself, Blaise and Theo. "You I understand Draco, since you work with scarhead over there -"

"Oi!" Harry laughed, knowing it was said in jest now, after so many years. They saw each other semi-regularly now after all, and got along surprisingly well for childhood enemies.

"- but we all know Granger wouldn't give two figs about us finding out from the press." She looked at Harry, but it was Draco who answered.

"Actually, she doesn't know you were there tonight because your tickets were originally for me and my parents - Potter gave them to me, but she sent another set right before the show so I gave the extras to you three."

There was quiet for a moment as they all thought about that, before Parvati slipped off her seat and onto the floor. The table burst into laughter and movement as Dean and Neville helped her up from the floor, with Dean saying their goodbyes and promising he'd see her home safely.

"I'd better head off too," Neville chuckled, pushing his chair in. "I've got plants to harvest at dawn and I need to sober up before then," he sighed, checking his watch. It was just past 3am now. "I'll just have to sleep after I guess!"

Neville took his leave then, which just left Harry and Ginny (who had remained uncharacteristically quiet after the show), Draco, Blaise and the Notts.

They ordered some hot chips and a jug of water for the table in an effort to sober up themselves. The pub would be closing soon and they'd have to be stable enough to apparate.

"So why did Granger send you tickets?" Blaise asked Draco as he poured himself some water.

Draco shifted in his seat and Harry grinned, wishing he had a camera to catch the reactions he was sure to see with Malfoy's next sentence.

"Because we're dating." The water came out of Blaise's nose. "Well, we were dating."

Zabini was coughing now, holding a napkin to his face. Pansy was as still as a statue - in shock, probably. Theo whooshed out a strangled, disbelieving laugh, and leaned back in his seat, reaching around statue-Pansy to pound his friend on the back.

"What?" Zabini croaked.

"I - we -" he cleared his throat once, twice. "We had a - a thing. In secret. For about a year actually."

"A year!?" That was Pansy.

Draco nodded once. "Yes. We got together in 2002 - or 2003 maybe? It was New Year's Eve."

"So -" Blaise tried to ask something, but Pansy was just getting into it now, and there would be no stopping her until she had all of the information.

"And why did I not know about this!? Better yet, who did know about this?" Her arms were crossed now. This wasn't a good sign.

"Nobody knew Pans. Not even Red-Pot over here," Draco jerked his head at Ginny who scowled in response, still feeling hurt over that fact.

"I knew." Five heads turned to Harry.

"Only because we work together and you're a nosey bastard." Five heads turned back to Draco.

"Still knew though, didn't I?" He was smug now.

"Yes, you did, and I'm still waiting on an explanation as to why you didn't tell me!" Not so smug anymore - Ginny was mad.

Malfoy continued before the Potters had a chance to get into it in the middle of the now mostly empty pub. "It doesn't matter! Granger and I didn't tell anyone for the same reason I'm guessing she kept this whole Denim thing a secret. We wanted to just figure things out ourselves - it was hard enough with her living in a different bloody country! We only got to see one another every few weeks for a day or two, and even then it didn't always line up with our schedules. Hell, she came back one weekend and I was out on a bloody overnighter with this idiot," he pointed a chip at Potter, ignoring his mock-hurt look. "And when I wanted to go public with our relationship and make a real go of it, she said no." Great. Now he felt depressed. "It's been almost seven months since we've seen or even spoken to each other."

It was Ginny, surprisingly, who broke the silence. "And what about now?"

She and Draco stared at one another for a long moment, ignoring the rest of their table mates. When he spoke, he sounded so determined it almost brought Ginny Potter to tears.

"Now, I'm going to show her that I support her and still want to be with her anyway."

At four in the morning the pub owner officially kicked them out. It was a good thing too, since most of their party was yawning constantly by that point. It had been a big night.

Zabini bailed first. He couldn't deny being disappointed that Granger and Draco had a thing going on. It was part of the bro-code. Rule number one really - never date the same woman. So even if it didn't work out between them, Blaise would never feel comfortable with trying his luck. He didn't have many friends after the war (hell, he hadn't had many before it either), so he wasn't about to risk one of his most treasured friendships for a bird. Not that he'd ever tell Draco Malfoy that he treasured their friendship. It just wasn't the Slytherin way.

Theo and Pansy were the next to go, with promises to catch up with Draco at the manor later that week, and polite nods to the Potters.

The final three strolled along the Thames for a while, each stuck in their own minds. The sun would be rising soon and they were all ready for bed after such a long night. Draco stopped them after a while.

"My parents wanted to have breakfast. I'd best be heading back to Wiltshire."

"Will you be going to see Hermione at some point?" asked Ginny quietly.

"I don't know wh-"

Harry cut him off. "Officially, she's renting a room at The Rosewood in Holborn, but she's actually staying at her family home. She just apparates back and forth when she needs to." He looked at Draco and gestured to his eyes, giving his partner permission to look into his mind for the location.

Draco nodded in thanks and continued after a moment. "Well I guess I'll meet my parents and get some sleep then. See what happens." He felt suddenly vulnerable, and he looked it too. His closest friends now knew his feelings. If she turned him away again he'd have even less privacy to lick his wounds, which had been hard enough the first time. His parents knew about their dalliance, although he'd only told them after the fact. He was sure there'd be plenty of interesting conversation over breakfast to say the least.

"Hey ferret," Ginny smirked, "look on the bright side." She moved to give him a fierce hug. "She wrote an entire album about you. That's gotta mean something."

She pulled away with her hands on his shoulders, looking up into his face as he finally registered the apparent significance of The Dragon being named as such. Was it really?

She leaned into his ear: "Thirty-four, thirty-five, huh?" Her wicked smile and Harry's grimace stayed with him long after they'd apparated away.

He had some research to do.

Draco made two stops before breakfast. First to a record store, where he bought both of the Denim albums. He paid extra for the Deluxe versions. Second, to a place called Currys, that didn't actually sell curry but electronics, where he bought a laptop computer. He was familiar with computers, having been intimately involved with a muggleborn, but he hadn't bothered to get his own until now. Arriving at the manor, Draco had a quick shower and changed into some lounge clothes that his mother hated and his father secretly wore when she wasn't around. After dropping his purchases onto his desk for later examination, he made his way to the solarium for breakfast.

"Well, well," drawled his father, looking him up and down. "Look who finally decided to come home. Big night?" It was said with a smirk - it seemed to be a genetic trait.

"I'm not late!"

"Oh hush, darling," chided Narcissa. "You know he's just trying to rile you up. He gets more out of you that way." A smirk from her, too. Yes, it was definitely genetic.

"It won't work," Draco warned.

They stared at him in silence, taking synchronized bites of their breakfast, chewing slowly without blinking.

Draco sighed heavily, caving embarrassingly fast. "Okay so my..." Nope, that wouldn't work. "So Granger is apparently quite famous."

"Yes, we had worked that much out for ourselves, funnily enough." That was his father.

"And she's allegedly named her newest album for me, according to Red-Pot, er, Ginny Weas-Potter."

"Yes, we knew that too." His mother this time. Great. They were tag-teaming him.

"Okay so what do you want from me then!?" he exclaimed, flopping back in his chair, flapping his arms childishly.

"Posture, Draco. You didn't know then?" asked Narcissa as she shared an amused look with her husband.

Despite being twenty-four years old and perfectly capable of ignoring his mother, he didn't dare do so and sat up straight before answering. "No. I knew she could sing - kind of. But not like that."

It was Lucius' turn to speak again. "Kind of?"

"She sings in the shower," he mumbled around a bite, a light flush diffusing his cheeks.

"Manners, Draco! Goodness me, what has gotten into you?"

"Well Cissa, it seems our son is a little, shall we say, discombobulated."

"I'm not discombobulated Father. I will admit to being slightly -"

"Overwhelmed?" Another smirk.

"No."

"Over-stimulated?" A small grin this time.

"No!"

"How about overcome?" Now it was a full out smile! A big, unsettling grin!

"No, goddamnit!"

"Draco!"

"Did Miss Granger teach you that one?" Lucius laughed, genuinely amused at the situation.

"Father I swear -"

"Oh relax, son, I'm just teasing," Lucius waved a hand carelessly. "I told you months ago that she was an interesting witch, although I certainly didn't anticipate how interesting."

"And you certainly didn't mean it as a complement either, Father."

Lucius hummed noncommittally. "Perhaps not, no," he conceded. "Although since then, I've had plenty of time to come to terms with the idea of a relationship between the two of you if that is what you wish."

There was a moment of silence, only broken by the gentle scraping of cutlery on fine china and the clink of a teacup meeting it's saucer.

"Do you mean that?" asked Draco quietly. He had told himself since the war that he didn't care about his father's approval anymore, although he knew deep down he'd always crave it.

Narcissa remained silent, knowing that her husband needed this moment with his son, and her son needed it even more.

"Yes, Draco." His father's voice was clear, his tone serious. "If she is who you want, your mother and I will support you fully and welcome her with open arms." He met his son's eye. "Your happiness is what matters." What should have mattered all along, remains unsaid. But Draco understood what his father was saying and not saying at the same time and he felt his eyes burning.

"Well now I'm a little overwhelmed."

The atmosphere turned from serious to lighthearted in an instant, and breakfast continued. But Draco made sure to hug his father tightly before he retired to bed. After all, it had been a big night.