Draco nodded slowly. His hand was gripping Hermione's, but his eyes were intently watching Aurore as she went bolting down the beach after James, dragging a long piece of kelp behind her.
Ginny returned before James' sixth birthday. The reunion was joyful. She had brought back old pictures that had been recovered, photos of Harry, Ron, and Hermione at school.
James was overjoyed to see his mother, but Ginny was not there to stay. She was going to take James back to Britain. They were going to live in the rebuilt Hogsmeade village and help with reconstruction before the Hogwarts School was reopened the following year.
“Come back with me, Hermione,” Ginny said while Draco was away checking the wards. “You should come back. Everything I'm saying and doing are all your ideas. I'm just repeating them. You'd be better at this than me. All the ways you used to want to change the wizarding world — you could do most of it if you come back. People should know you're the reason it was even possible to kill Voldemort.”
Hermione's chest tightened, but she forced herself to give a small laugh. “I think you and Draco had something to do with it too. How exactly would that work? Would I bring Aurore with me and have her there while I try to clear Draco's name, or just leave them both behind?”
Ginny's expression grew strained, and she looked away. “You can't clear his name. I know you think he's a tragic hero, but that's not how anyone else will ever see him, even if you explain why he did what he did. I've worked with the aurors and lawyers. I've seen the records. Hermione, do you know how many people he's killed? The lists are so long—”
“I know,” Hermione cut her off.
Ginny crossed her arms tightly. “He's like Voldemort was when we were kids. People whisper when they say High Reeve. No one even says Malfoy if they can help it. His signature is all over the trial records. It's not like Voldemort signed anything. The way the regime's records come across, you'd think he was the one actually in power post-war. Everything that happened, he was at least informed about.”
Hermione's stomach twisted but her jaw grew tense. “It's hard to destabilise a regime without being informed,” she said in a dry voice.
Ginny gave a resigned sigh and looked away again.
Hermione looked at her from the corner of her eye. “I'm not going to leave him, Ginny. There's no version of me surviving the war without Draco. Believing in the other person is the only reason either of us survived. I'm too tired to try to rebuild the wizarding world based on a lie about how I managed to live through it.”
Ginny stared at Hermione, and her lips twitched as though she were debating something.
“Hermione—” She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Hermione, I know I said I wouldn't say anything else, but I have to say all this at least once before I go and leave you here.” Her throat dipped as she swallowed. Her scar had reddened and stood out starkly the way it always did when she was upset. “You're all the family I have left besides James. You're more important to me than just about anyone else in the world. I owe you my life and I love you, and Harry and Ron loved you; so I have to say this once. I know you love Draco. I just — I don't think you realise how inhumanly cold he is to anyone who isn't you and Aurore. The rest of the world could burn, and he'd barely care. It's not like it was some simple spell he used to kill all those people. You have to mean the Killing Curse—”
“I know what he's like, Ginny.” Hermione cut her off. “It's the reason you and I are alive.”
Frustration flashed across Ginny's face, and she started to open her mouth again. Hermione stared at her.
“What did you think about — when you used the Killing Curse on Voldemort?” Hermione asked.
Ginny's jaw snapped shut, and she stiffened as she stared at Hermione, eyes wide. Then she pressed her lips tightly together until her expression twisted and grew anguished.
“Oh god. It was Harry,” she finally said, her voice wracked with grief, knuckles turning white as she clenched her hands into shaking fists. “I was thinking about everything he did to Harry.”
Hermione nodded, unsurprised.
She looked down at the onyx ring on her hand for several seconds before she spoke. “Love isn't always as pretty or pure as people like to think. There's a darkness in it sometimes. Draco and I go hand-in-hand. I made him who he is. I knew what his runes meant when I saved him. If he's a monster, then I'm his creator. What did you think was the source of all his rage?”
When Aurore realised Ginny was going to take James away, she was initially uncomprehending and then, as they prepared to leave, hysterical. “He's mine! He's mine! He's my best friend! You can't take him away!”
She didn't want to be comforted by Draco or Hermione. She clung to James and refused to let go. James was painfully conflicted about leaving, although he didn't let go of Ginny's hand for a moment.
“She can come with us,” he said, “I'll take care of her.”
“No. No. Aurore has to stay with me and her father until she's older,” Hermione said as she tried to pull Aurore off James.
“I want to go too!” Aurore said as Hermione pried her fingers off of James' robes. “I want to live in Britain too. Why can't we go too?”
“I'm sorry, Aurore, we can't.”
“Why?” Aurore collapsed onto the ground and tried to crawl back to James before Hermione could pick her up.
Hermione pulled her up off the floor and held her tightly. “It's not safe for us to go there. That's why we live on this island instead of in the city with the shops, remember? Mum would get headaches there, and the healers told Mum that she can't go places that give her headaches.”
“But James is my best friend. We stick together. Best friends are supposed to,” Aurore sobbed into Hermione's shoulder.
Draco stood by, looking completely at a loss; his fingers were spasming.
James let go of Ginny's hand and went over to Aurore.
“Rory, you have to stay with your mum and dad. It's not safe at Britain.”
“I can go. I'm a Gryffindor too,” Aurore said in a broken voice.
Draco winced.
“Yeah,” James said slowly, and his expression grew pained. “But you can't come because you have to take care of Padfoot. It's not safe there for a puppy. He doesn't come when we tell him too, and he barks too much.”
Aurore's head popped up from Hermione's shoulder. “Really?” she said in a trembling voice.
“Yes.” James nodded seriously. “It's not safe for a puppy. You need to take care of him. Uncle Draco doesn't like him, and Aunt Miney doesn't go outside very much. He needs walks every day, so you have to do it.” James was gripping Padfoot's leash tightly. “He's still my dog though.”
Aurore nodded slowly, and James gave her Padfoot's leash.
After Ginny and James portkeyed away, Aurore sat on the veranda, hugging Padfoot and crying.
Four years later.
Aurore ran in the lab and clambered onto Hermione's lap, a piece of paper gripped in her fingers.
“Mummy. Mummy look. Father took me to the market, and there was a lady — she had these on strings, and she let me have one.” Aurore unfurled her fingers, and there in her palm was clutched a small, crumpled origami crane.
Hermione gave a small gasp, and her heart clenching as she stared at it.
“Oh, Aurore, that's lovely.”
“She said if I make a thousand, I get a wish.” Aurore stared at the crane with her silver eyes alight, then the light faded as she deflated. “But — wishes are just imaginary.”