XXXVII.
Luna had put out an impressive issue of the Quibbler following the events of the new year. The news broke the next day, and Luna promised readers she’d be following the case and conviction of Shacklebolt and Crespo as well.
“You could press charges against Potter and Weasley,” Smith told her as she sat up in her hospital bed.
Draco sat in the chair at her bedside and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“I don’t want to do that,” Hermione said. “The public is already reeling from the betrayal of their Minister. Adding those two to the mix would make things worse.”
“Any chance you’d consider a career with the Aurors?” Smith asked.
“No,” Hermione and Draco responded in tandem.
Smith snorted a laugh.
“I figured,” he shrugged. “Thought I’d give it a try, though.”
“I really should talk to them,” Hermione said when Smith left.
Draco’s jaw tightened. She traced her fingers along his jaw. He took them and brought her hand to his mouth. She still wore Pansy’s bracelet. Hermione doubted he’d ever let her take it off. Nott was trying to convince her to create a few magical items for him to sell at the shop.
“It was your Patronus, wasn’t it?” he asked her as his thumb traced over the snake.
Hermione beamed.
“Yes,” she said. “Wasn’t it spectacular?”
“You didn’t tell me it was a cobra.”
“It wasn’t,” she smiled. “It was an otter before. When I cast it this time, and the cobra came out, I almost fell over.”
“I’ve heard Patronus forms can change,” Draco said. “You found happy thoughts again.”
“You,” she said. “The family you’ve given me. The second chance at life. It’s exactly what I needed.”
He pressed his lips to her temple.
“Did Theo bring the potion to the Ministry?”
Draco’s mouth hardened into a line.
“You’re supposed to be recovering.”
“I am,” she argued. “I also have some thoughts about healing properties with the Patronus.”
He sighed and gave her an exhausted look. She ignored it and leaned forward.
“What if that’s the light that we need to remove dark magic?” she said.
She looked down at the Dark Mark that was visible below his rolled sleeves. When Healer Netty had been in early and discussed their progress, it made Hermione think. Draco said his Patronus had rendered Crespo unconscious. A Patronus was needed for the Inferi potion. What if a Patronus wasn’t just a way to get rid of Dementors? What if they’d been wrong all these years? What if it was something more?
She watched as Draco’s eyes narrowed in concentration. She would love to see inside his mind when he really focused on something.
“I think Netty’s still on shift for another thirty minutes,” Hermione suggested lightly.
He hesitated, but she shoved his arm.
“Go!”
He kissed her head.
“I love that enormous brain,” he said.
Once Draco was gone, Hermione tossed off her blankets and headed toward the door.
“Hi, Dean,” she smiled.
He jolted and turned to face her.
“Granger! You should be in bed! Malfoy will kill me.”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Would you mind getting Harry and Ron over here for me? I’d like to talk to them now.”
Dean grimaced.
“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” he said. “They haven’t been cleared yet, and Draco…”
“You can bring them to me,” she said. “Or I’ll go find them.”
Dean cursed and took out his wand. His Patronus, a giant grizzly bear, ambled down the hallway.
“Thank you,” she smiled. “I won’t let Draco kill you.”
Dean snorted in disbelief.
***
“Mione.”
Relief rolled off Harry. Ron uncomfortably shuffled beside him as Harry walked forward and hugged her. She felt herself sigh too. She didn’t hate Harry or Ron. Nothing about her would ever hate them. She had just outgrown them. They’d been her entire identity for so long.
“I don’t understand,” Ron mumbled behind them.
“I tried to tell you,” she shrugged. “You wouldn’t help me.”
“So you just leave? You disappeared for years, Hermione. My mum… Ginny. We’ve already lost so much.”
Hermione recoiled.
“I gave so many signs. I didn’t want to go.”
“So it’s our fault for not finding you, then?”
“Ron,” Harry interjected.
“Oh, come on,” Ron laughed sardonically.
“Hermione, we looked,” Harry said. “We followed every lead we got.”
“What’s my favorite musical?”
Harry and Ron exchanged confused looks. Hermione continued.
“I had a keychain on my bookbag. What was it?”
Ron gave her a bewildered look. Hermione sighed.
“You didn't remember those little details about me,” she said. “Three of my safe places were places we camped during seventh year. All you would have had to do was go back there.”
“We camped hundreds of places,” Ron snorted.
Harry looked at his feet, though.
“Ginny suggested that,” he whispered. “We blew her off.”
Hermione watched as Ron’s defensive stance remained unwavering. Harry was reflective, but he’d always been that way. Ron was the one with the temper. He was the one to hold a grudge.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said, reaching his hand toward her.
“I’m not angry,” Hermione said, taking his hand in hers.
“Just disappointed, right?” Ron said.
Hermione gave him a sad smile. This is why they’d never be able to maintain a friendship. Ron had the emotional maturity of a toddler. And that was fine for Harry. He didn’t want to get deep or emotional. And when he did, he had Ginny. But Ron had always repressed feelings and emotions. They couldn’t talk about anything without him becoming defensive or childish.
The door to Hermione’s room swung open, and Draco stood there, a lethal expression on his face. His eyes focused on Hermione’s hand in Harry’s, and she watched his Occlumency walls rise.
“Relax, would you? Mione invited us,” Ron immediately defended.
“I did,” she said.
She squeezed Harry’s hand and let it fall.
“I just wanted you both to know that I’m okay,” she said. “I don’t expect we’ll be spending great amounts of time together moving forward.”
“Because of him?” Ron asked.
“No, because of me,” she said.
“Mione,” Harry whispered.
“It’s all right,” she said. “This is for the best. We’ll always be connected. But my future is finally my own.”
Ron snorted. Hermione ignored him and looked directly at Harry.
“He knew every safehouse, Harry,” she said. “He found me. He loves me.”
“His family tortured you,” Ron spat. “He called you mudblood!”
“I love him,” she said to Harry, ignoring Ron’s rant. “I choose him. He’s my safe house.”
Ron cursed beside them, but Hermione didn’t take her eyes off Harry. She knew she was getting through to him. The old Harry was there; she could feel it. He nodded his head.
“No!” Ron said. “You’re not going to fuck some bloody Death Eater-”
Draco stepped forward, his fist balling up.
“Let’s go, Ron,” Harry said and turned back to Hermione. “Ginny will want to see you, yeah?”
She smiled and nodded. Ron’s face was full of disgust as Harry shoved him out of the room. She looked over at Draco and saw his eyes still filled with Occlumency.
“Stop,” she told him. “Whatever stupid, self-deprecating thing you’re thinking. Just stop.”
He blinked a few times.
“Was I right? About the Patronus?”
His resolve softened. He smirked and walked forward toward her open arms. He sat on the edge of her bed and sank against her.
“Of course it did,” he said. “Clever witch.”
He slid up his sleeve and revealed the fading Dark Mark. Hermione gasped as she brought it closer. Her fingers skimmed over it and marveled as it lightened before her eyes.
“Draco,” she breathed.
“I know,” he whispered. “I never thought…”
She smiled and kissed him passionately.
“We could start trials on you tomorrow,” he said. “If you want.”
“I want you to do it,” she said. “It has to be you.”
“Anything,” he promised. “Whatever you want. It’s yours.”
***
“It’s so good to have you home,” Narcissa said.
“It’s good to be home,” Hermione said.
The two of them walked arm in arm through the garden. It was a cool April morning, but the fresh air felt nice. The trials had gone well, and according to Draco’s constant diagnostics, Hermione was showing incredible improvements. She had another session scheduled for next week.
She also agreed to see another Healer to help with the trauma of the last few years. It felt nice to be honest with someone other than her close inner circle.
“Luna has been doing research about the strengthening properties of Dragon scales,” Narcissa mentioned.
Hermione grinned. Narcissa’s interest in potions and alchemy had Luna begging her to become a featured writer in the Quibbler. Luna told her that she had a voice worth hearing. Narcissa’s first article was on Hermione’s recent book, Unearthing the Power of the Patronus. It’d been Luna’s highest-selling issue yet. Luna featured a large photograph on the front of Hermione’s cobra and Draco’s dragon. Hermione had the photo framed and placed in Draco’s new office.
Smith had done more than his fair share of reconciliation for the Ministry’s errors. Draco was released from his position as an Auror. Healer Netty was more than willing to hire him full-time, and he graciously accepted. He was treating former Death Eaters and helping them remove their Dark Marks. No more danger. No more forced sessions of Legilimens. His debt was paid.
The two women walked around the last hedge, and the huge fountain came into view. Hermione smiled at the dragon. But something new caught her eye. She looked and saw a giant cobra, mirroring her own, with its tail wrapped tightly around the apple tree. It reared back, hood extended, as it protected those behind it. Hermione gasped as she approached it.
“He wasn’t the only one trying to protect everyone,” Narcissa said.
“It’s beautiful.”
“She is, isn’t she?”
Hermione spun at hearing Draco’s voice.
“I thought you were at work,” she smiled.
He stood casually behind her. His cashmere sweater pushed up to his elbows and slacks, elongating his lean physique. His hands were in his pockets. Narcissa disappeared from her side, and he knelt before her. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. He withdrew his hands and held a velvet green box.
“What do you say, Granger?” he asked. “Should we make things permanent?”
Tears pooled in her eyes. She chewed her lip and nodded enthusiastically.
She practically choked when she saw the ring in the box. The large emerald-cut solitaire diamond sparkled against the morning sun. He slid the signet ring off her left hand and placed it on her right finger. The new ring slid into place over her left ring finger. She dove forward and locked her hands around his neck, trapping him in a passionate kiss. He laughed against her and stood up, lifting her with him.
“We’ll have to hurry things along,” Draco said between kisses. “Can’t have Nott beating me to the alter.”
Hermione threaded her fingers through his hair. Gratitude surrounded her. Finally safe. Finally home.
THE END.