Draco's expression rippled, and he reached towards her.
Hermione stood up sharply to avoid his touch, pressing her hand against her sternum. “Is this not enough for you? Is having a life so dissatisfying that revenge is worth all that risk?” Her eyes were burning. “In a few years, we're going to have to tell Aurore. She's going to go to school and hear about the war in her classes, unable to say anything. They're going to talk about you. They're going to tell her all the things you did.”
Draco's jaw clenched.
Hermione drew a ragged breath. “It's going to shatter her whole world — even if she hears it from you first. We don't get to have all the things we want in this life, Draco. You were the one who told me that. You said, there was a point when I had to realise I wasn't going to get everything I wanted, and that I had to choose something and let it be enough. I chose you. Always. I always chose you.”
Her lungs started spasming so violently it caused a strained whimpering sound in her throat. She pressed her hands over her mouth. Draco flinched visibly and reached for her again.
Hermione glared at him. “If this isn't what you want to choose any longer, you owe it to me to at least tell me first.”
“Granger, it wasn't like that,” he said, his voice tense as he approached her slowly.
She stepped back. “Really? You just happened to come across her while you were an entire continent away from where you said you'd be? You've been looking for her this whole time, haven't you?”
He nodded reluctantly, but his eyes were still unapologetic. “She deserved to die after what she did to you. I couldn't leave her once I knew where she was hiding.”
Hermione's mouth twisted and she looked away. “Then you shouldn't have looked. You should have left it alone.” She gave a quiet sob. “The worst part is — I'm so glad she's dead. I'm glad she suffered. I just didn't want it to be you — why is it always you?”
Draco took two rapid steps across the room and caught her by the arm before she could back away.
Hermione wavered for a moment before burying herself in his arms. “I hated her. I hated her so much. I hated her.”
“I know,” he said, cradling her face and pressing their foreheads together as she fought to breathe. “I know.”
She gave a low sob.
“I swear, I'm done now. Please breathe.” He held her tightly in his arms. “There won't be anyone else.”
Ten years later.
Hermione stood in the Wellington Central Station watching the green flames of a large fireplace die away.
“It's just the two of us now,” she said in a wistful voice.
Draco was silent as he stood beside her. His hand slipped around her waist, warm and possessive.
She rested her head against his shoulder. “You realise why she's going, don't you?”
There was a pause before Draco gave a pained sounding sigh. “Yes...”
A smile played at the corner of her mouth. “I suppose it was almost inevitable.”
She looked up at Draco, who was still staring at the fireplace; an expression of both bitterness and resignation was on his face. He looked down and met her gaze.
His features were hidden behind glamours, but his eyes were always the same. No matter how long she studied them, there always seemed to be nuances in the way the colour shifted that she had yet to discover. He felt things so intensely but privately. They were alike in that regard.
As he stared down at her, his eyes were molten silver.
The world around them faded away.
Her heartbeat quickened. “What do we do now?”
The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile that had only ever been for her. “Anything you want, for as long as you want to.”
Chapter End Notes
Illustrations by Avendell, follow her on tumblr and instagram
Additional Illustrations:
Aurore on Draco's shoulders by dragonly art.
Draco and Aurore by iam_rosetta_
Draco and Aurore sketch by animusdiscidium.
Ginny by bookloverdream.
Draco and Aurore by flyora.
Draco and Aurore reading by Flyora.
Possessive by klawdee.
Hermione and Aurore by abrilas.
Draco meeting Aurore by keeferonies-art.
Draco and Aurore by Abrilas.
Ginny kills Voldemort gifset by ectoheart.
Life on the island gifset by ectoheart.
Epilogue 3
August 2024
A fireplace in the British Ministry of Magic's international floo network flared suddenly to life, and a young woman appeared inside it, a small suitcase in hand. Her large, silver eyes were wide as the green flames died away, and she stepped out of the fireplace, taking in the high, vaulting ceiling of Ministry Atrium before looking into the crowd of wizards and witches bustling through.
“Aurore!” called a voice.
Several people turned to see Ginny Weasley hurrying across the room with her son, James Potter, a few steps behind her. Ginny crushed the young woman in a hug that lasted for several minutes before stepping back and studying Aurore.
“Look at you. Look at you! It's been so many years. I was afraid I wouldn't recognize you, but you look just so much like your mum,” Ginny said, looking as though she were on the verge of tears.
Aurore smiled. “Yes,” she said in a voice that hinted a slight New Zealand accent, “Father always says that.”
Ginny shook her head in disbelief. “I still can't believe they finally let you come. I was sure you'd stay in New Zealand or maybe end up in Australia. Your mum wrote that you had offers pouring in after you aced all the exams—”
Aurore's cheeks reddened, and she looked down awkwardly at her shoes.
Ginny chuckled. “Don't blush. We all knew you were brilliant. But here you are in Britain, after all these years.”
Aurore gave a smirk that was not reminiscent of her mother at all. “Well, they knew I'd always wanted to visit, but finding out I'd applied and gotten an offer from Gringotts was a surprise for them.”
Ginny reached back and grabbed hold of James, pulling him forward into the conversation. Aurore and James' eyes met for a moment before dropping away.
“I still wish you'd gone to school at Hogwarts like James. I tried to convince your mum to let you, but New Zealand was about as far as either of your parents would consider when you were eleven. I know the two of you write constantly, but your studious qualities really failed to rub off intercontinentally. I'm sure you remember how James barely scraped by with the OWLs he needed to become an auror. I nearly died of shame. Professor of DADA, and my own son barely got an A.”
James turned bright red and ran a hand awkwardly through his wild hair. “Mum! I got serious about grades for my NEWTs. You can't keep bringing up something from fours years ago.”