A family portrait
Hermione (age 23)
Five years later
A soft smile curved her lips as the familiar sound of his footsteps echoed from the dark rippling hallway. It bloomed into a wide grin the moment he stepped through their archway, his presence radiating warmth and comfort.
"Draco, what are you doing here?" she laughed, her voice laced with surprise.
"I missed you already," he confessed. His eyes, pools of molten silver, held a tenderness that made her heart melt.
"Why didn't you just wake me up?" she asked, tilting her head playfully.
"You looked so sweet," he murmured, stepping closer. "Sleeping soundly next to me, your curls fanned across the pillow."
Warmth blossomed in her chest. "You could never disturb me," she whispered. She moved towards him, drawn in by an invisible force, and circled her arms around his waist, savoring the feeling of his strong arms enveloping her. "I love you so much," she breathed, burying her face in his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent.
"I love you more," he replied, his voice a husky whisper against her hair. He gently tilted her chin up, his gaze locking with hers, and kissed her softly. As she melted into his embrace, the world outside their haven ceased to exist.
*******
The Hogwarts classroom buzzed with anticipation as the end of the day approached. It was Friday and everyone was eager to begin their weekend.
"Quiet down class, we still have fifteen minutes." The professor chastised, her voice clear and confident.
A few lingering whispers rippled through the room until the class finally settled. The students respected their Arithmancy Professor, her reputation as a brilliant and powerful witch preceded her. Not to mention her involvement in defeating Lord Voldemort and saving the world.
She gestured towards the chalkboard, where a series of intricate charts and diagrams were already drawn. "Today, we will be exploring the significance of these numerological charts and their applications."
A student eagerly raised their hand. "Professor Granger, is it true that Arithmancy can be used to predict the outcome of Quidditch matches?"
She chuckled. "Indeed it can. By analyzing the numerological values associated with each team and player, we can calculate the probability of different outcomes. However," she added with a twinkle in her eye, "it's important to remember that free will and unpredictable factors can always influence the final result."
She moved through the rows of desks, observing her students as they worked through their last assignment.
As the class drew to a close, she addressed them once more. "Remember, Arithmancy is not just about calculations and predictions. It is a tool for understanding the world around us, for delving deeper into the mysteries of magic. Embrace its challenges, and it will reward you with knowledge and wisdom."
The students filed out of the classroom, Hermione watched them go, a sense of satisfaction filling her. Sometimes, amidst the bustle of the classroom or the quiet solitude of her office, a wave of disbelief would wash over her. Could this truly be her life? Hermione Granger, the young witch once denied her magic and freedom was now... Professor Granger, Arithmancy instructor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
It felt surreal. She, who had never stepped foot inside Hogwarts as a student, now walked its halls every day. The castle, once a distant dream, was now her second home. She knew its secrets, its hidden passageways, and the ghosts that roamed its corridors by name.
The irony wasn't lost on her. A Muggle-born witch whose very presence at Hogwarts was forbidden only a few short years ago, now taught a classroom of diverse students – witches and wizards of all backgrounds, pure-bloods and Muggle-borns alike, all eager to learn together.
She turned back to her desk, the parchment crackling softly under her hand as she collected the stack of student assignments. A thrill of anticipation danced through her as her thoughts drifted to the evening ahead.
"Professor Granger?" a familiar drawl echoed from the doorway, sending a flutter through her stomach. She turned towards the voice, a smile blooming on her face as she saw him leaning against the doorframe, a playful grin splitting his face. He looked undeniably handsome in a crisp white button down shirt and black dress pants, his jacket slung casually over his shoulder. His silver eyes roved over her with an appreciative warmth that sent a blush creeping up her neck.
"Mr. Malfoy," she greeted him, her voice carrying a hint of playful formality, "what a lovely surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?" She walked towards him, her heels clicking softly on the stone floor.
"Professor," he began, straightening up and pushing away from the doorframe, "I was hoping to have the honor of escorting you to the gallery this evening." His smile widened, and a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes.
"I suppose that would be alright," she replied, a playful smile tugging at her lips. She reached out and absently toyed with one of the buttons on his shirt, enjoying the way his eyes darkened slightly at her touch.
"Shall we?" he offered, extending his arm towards her.
She looped her arm through his, and they strolled down the hallway towards her office. "I need to change first," she said, "but it won't take long."
"Take all the time you need, Professor," he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.
Her office was small but cozy, overflowing with books, scrolls, and research papers. A framed photograph of her and Draco, taken during Christmas last year, sat prominently on her desk. She set her things down, feeling Draco's presence close behind her. His hands gently traced up and down her sides, sending a wave of warmth through her, and he dipped his head to nuzzle the crook of her neck. She turned to face him, her heart fluttering in her chest.
His eyes sparkled with mischief, an expression she adored. Without a word, he lifted her onto the desk, his hands lingering on her waist. He began to unbutton her blouse, his touch sending ripples of anticipation down her spine.
"Draco..." she giggled, her voice breathless, "we are going to be late..."
He silenced her with a kiss, his lips warm and demanding against hers. She melted into him, her mind going blank.
"I'll send a patronus," he murmured against her lips, pulling away just enough to reach for his wand.
With a flick of his wrist and the familiar incantation, silvery mist erupted from his wand, swirling and taking the form of a small fox. The fox scampered out the office door and disappeared down the hallway.
Draco turned back to her, his eyes filled with intensity. "Now, where were we?" he whispered, his lips curving into her favorite smile.
He dropped to his knees before her, and she felt his hot mouth on her inner thigh. She let her head fall back, her eyes closing. Her legs were shaking as they dangled from her desk, her chest heaving as she propped herself up on her elbows. He pushed her skirt up to her waist and slowly pulled her underwear down her legs.His hands dug into her backside as he traced his tongue up and down her inner thighs. She watched him through lowered eyes, his blonde hair was neat but a few strands had fallen over his forehead. She ran her fingers through it as he continued to tease her. His finger traced up and down through her wet folds. Her back arched off the desk, and she felt him smile against her skin as she writhed and shook beneath him. She could feel the heat of his breath on her clit as he drug his fingers lower, slowly tracing her entrance. He began sucking on her clit at the same time he pushed his fingers inside of her. He slowly licked her sensitive spot, taking his time, as his fingers pumped in and out of her. She moaned and writhed beneath his mouth as the beginnings of an orgasm bloomed within her core.
She gently pulled his hair and he lifted his head. His eyes were molten silver, his mouth glistening, as he stared at her. The love shining in his eyes still took her breath away.
“Kiss me.” She begged.
He obeyed.
His lips crashed into hers as he lifted her from the desk. He carried her to the nearest chair and gracefully took a seat, positioning her on top of him. She didn’t break their kiss as she unfastened his belt and pants, nearly breaking his zipper in her eagerness.He smiled against her lips as he shimmied his pants down his thighs. She ground into his erection. He deftly unbuttoned the remaining buttons of her blouse and unclasped her bra. He took both of her breasts in his hands and took turns circling and nipping at each of her nipples. She was dripping with need, frantic moans escaping from her mouth as she continued to slide against his cock. He reached for his wand and cast a quick silencing charm around the room. Their mouths reconnected and she pulled his cock through her wetness to her core. She leaned away from him to watch his face contort with pleasure as she slowly lowered herself, enveloping him in her wetness. They swallowed each other’s moans as she began to move on top of him. His head rolled back against the chair, his mouth falling open, and the most beautiful, desperate sound slipped from his lips. She let her hands wander to the sides of his face, and pulled his head up to look at her. She quickened her movements, and he dug his fingers into her hair. His eyes returned to her chest and he leaned forward and began kissing and licking her breasts. She grabbed the armrests of the chair and used them to roll and maneuver her body on top of him, her clit rubbing against him as she moved.
“Fuuuuuuck.” He groaned as he leaned back, his fingers losing their grip on her breasts and falling on top of hers on the armrests. She loved watching him come undone.
She leveraged her knees on either side of him to take him deeper. She bit her lip as she watched his chest heave and his body tremble. He gritted his teeth and placed his hands on her hips to help her move. Gold shimmered around them as they both approached release. He reached his hands around to grip her ass, forcing her hips up and down, back and forth.
He reached his hand between them and began circling her clit. She was so close, and he felt it, quickening his pace and moving deeper. Each thrust pushed her closer and closer. He mouthed a silent ‘I love you’ as he watched her slowly unravel. She kissed him hard as she felt the orgasm explode through her. She crumbled, her body shattering and pulsating around him. He quickened his pace, his hips snapping into her, and followed her over the edge.
Afterward, they held each other for a long time, their breathing slowing, the shimmering gold that had enveloped them slowly fading. She pulled back, her breath catching in her throat as she met his gaze. His eyes were shimmering with an intensity that stole her breath away. They held a depth of emotion that mirrored her own, a love so profound it threatened to overwhelm her. A wave of awe washed over her; she wondered if he would always look at her this way, like she was the only star in his universe, the most precious thing he had ever beheld.
"I love you, Draco," she whispered, the words escaping her lips like a sigh.
“I love you too,” he said, pulling her into a deep kiss.
*******
"Harry!" Hermione's voice, filled with delight, cut through the murmur of the gallery as her eyes landed on her friend. A wave of warmth washed over her, and she broke into a run, a wide smile illuminating her face. She pulled him into a tight embrace.
"It's so good to see you!" Harry exclaimed, returning the hug with equal excitement. "It's been too long." He pulled back, beaming at her. "And you look fantastic, Hermione."
"Thank you, Harry. You haven't changed a bit either," she replied, though his slightly more squared jaw and the determined set of his shoulders hinted at the responsibilities he now carried. "Congratulations on your recent promotion to Head Auror, by the way. I can't think of anyone better suited."
"Thank you," he said, a touch of pride in his voice. "You know, if you ever decide to make a career change, there's always a spot for you in the Auror office as well. We could use a witch with your brains and talent."
She laughed, touched by his offer. "Thanks, Harry, I appreciate that.”
Her gaze swept over the small group gathered nearby, and her heart swelled. Luna, radiating an ethereal glow in a shimmering robe; Ginny, her fiery hair as vibrant as ever; Ron, his freckled face etched with a familiar grin; and Neville, with his quiet strength and kind eyes.
"I'm so happy you could all make it." she said, pulling each of them into individual hugs.
As she stepped back, Draco materialized at her side, his hand finding its familiar place at the small of her back. Her friends greeted him warmly, the old animosity a distant memory replaced by a shared respect.
She took a moment to truly appreciate her surroundings. The art gallery buzzed with excited energy, witches and wizards mingling amongst each other. Soft light illuminated the intricate paintings adorning the walls.
"Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy," a deep voice boomed from her left, "it's so wonderful to see you both."
Kingsley Shacklebolt, the newly appointed Minister of Magic, approached them with a broad smile. He exuded an air of authority, but his dark eyes twinkled with genuine warmth.
Hermione inclined her head in greeting, while Draco offered a slight bow.
"I haven't had the opportunity to congratulate you both on your Order of Merlin," Kingsley continued, his gaze sweeping over them with admiration. "First Class, no less. Well deserved, I must say."
"Thank you, Minister," Hermione replied.
"Thank you, sir," Draco echoed.
Kingsley's warm smile deepened as he engaged them in conversation, his initial pleasantries giving way to genuine curiosity about their respective endeavors.
"Mr. Malfoy," Kingsley began, "I've heard whispers of a rather remarkable initiative you've undertaken recently.”
Draco nodded, "Indeed, Minister. It’s a foundation dedicated to assisting Muggle-born witches and wizards who suffered... difficulties... during the war. It provides resources and support for those who were persecuted, imprisoned, or otherwise traumatized. We offer healing potions, therapy sessions with trained Mind Healers, and even assistance with reintegrating into the wizarding world after extended periods of isolation."
"A noble endeavor, Mr. Malfoy. The scars of the war run deep, and many still struggle to find their footing in this new era of peace. Your foundation, I believe, will be instrumental in their healing." Kingsley responded, his eyes shining with respect.
"It also provides educational resources," Hermione added, eager to share the full scope of Draco’s work. “Tutoring programs, access to libraries and learning materials, and even scholarships to Hogwarts for those who wish to formalize their magical education."
"Remarkable," Kingsley whispered.
Draco had dedicated the past five years to the task of re-integrating the Ministry of Magic into wizarding society. It had been a long and challenging road, navigating the wreckage left by years of darkness, rebuilding trust, and dismantling the prejudices that had festered within society for far too long. He had worked tirelessly advocating for reform, pushing for equality, and ensuring that the Ministry truly served all witches and wizards, regardless of blood status or magical ability.
Now, with the basis of a more just and equitable wizarding world firmly in place, Draco found himself with the freedom to pursue a passion project that had been simmering within him for years. It was a deeply personal mission, fueled by a profound sense of responsibility and a yearning to use his privilege and influence for good. He poured his heart and soul into the foundation, meticulously overseeing every detail, from providing funding and recruiting skilled healers to designing personalized rehabilitation programs and establishing educational resources.This was where he found his true purpose, not power or status, but in the quiet satisfaction of helping others.
As the Minister moved on, his laughter echoing through the gallery, Hermione and Draco exchanged a knowing glance. With a subtle nod from Draco, she excused herself, leaving him to converse with their friends.
She drifted through the art gallery to take in the paintings, each step carrying her deeper into a world of vibrant colors and swirling emotions. A landscape in bold strokes of emerald and gold captured the wild beauty of the meadow surrounding their cottage, the longer she gazed at it, the more she could almost feel the soft grass beneath her feet and hear the gentle bird songs. Nearby, an abstract whirlwind of deep green and black, evoked the raw power of magic.
Further on, was a portrait of Narcissa and Lucius in the garden. They were bathed in the warm glow of a setting sun, hands clasped, their faces etched with a love that transcended even death. The mystery of the spell Lucius had cast lingered. They knew he had somehow woven Narcissa's dying tears, each one a drop of pure maternal devotion, into the fabric of the magic, but the exact incantation and its intricate workings remained elusive. Despite countless hours pouring over ancient texts and obscure spell books, the precise nature of that desperate act of love remained unknown.
But it was the final painting, tucked away in a quiet corner, that truly stole her breath and held her captive. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the image before her, and her hand instinctively flew to her chest. Time seemed to stand still as she admired the painting.
She felt his presence before she saw him, a warmth radiating beside her even as her eyes remained fixed on the canvas. A hand, gentle and familiar, enveloped hers, giving three gentle squeezes. She glanced down at his hand, at the paint staining his fingers, and smiled. A tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek, and she finally turned, her gaze meeting his. Piercing blue eyes, framed by a lock of dark hair, gazed down at her with a tender smile that mirrored the love and pride blooming in her own heart. He drew her close, his arm a comforting weight around her shoulders, and she leaned into him, her head finding a spot against his chest.
Immortalized on the canvas before them was a family portrait. Hermione, Draco, and Arys, their faces radiant with joy, stood hand in hand with Mippy and Dolly in front of the Manor. It was the culmination of their dreams, a life filled with the simple joys of family, of a love that had finally found its home.
A moment later, Draco appeared, his expression a mixture of awe and affection as he pulled his brother into a tight embrace. He pressed a kiss to Arys's forehead, whispered something quietly, and then he too was by her side, his hand finding hers.
Arys, Hermione, and Draco stood frozen in time, bathed in the soft glow of the gallery lights, their hearts overflowing with a love that had defied all odds. An unspoken vow hung between them, a silent promise etched in their souls, to forever cherish this fragile miracle. Their journey had been a trial by fire, forging an unbreakable connection, a love that had blossomed into something rare and beautiful. In this shared moment, surrounded by the echoes of their past and the promise of their future, they realized they had finally found peace. They were finally free.