Lover of the Light

Chapter Seventeen: Alternate Perfection

"Well, you're certainly all smiles."

Looking up from her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, Hermione met the eyes of her only roommate. She hadn't noticed when the latter had come in or—as she now paid attention to her surroundings—when the few others studying in the classroom had left. She just remembered sitting down, getting a quick greeting from a few of her classmates, and then time had stopped existing when she lost herself in her mind.

"I'm happy," informed Hermione to Parvati with a smile as she closed her textbook. "Is that so odd?"

The Gryffindor Patil twin grinned, putting her hands on her hips and looking all-knowingly at the brunette. "Yeah, it sort of is," she said truthfully. "You've been in such a disastrous mood for weeks, Hermione. I was close to asking McGonagall for a dormitory change."

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, I wasn't that bad."

"You were," advocated the other girl. "But whatever happened to you recently, thank Merlin for it. I don't think I've seen you smile this way since Ron and Lavender broke up back in Sixth Year."

A glint of grief crossed Parvati's dark eyes at the mention of the deceased Lavender Brown. It truly pained Hermione to know that Parvati had lost her best friend in the war. Regardless of how annoying both girls were together, they were a symbol of true friendship and loyalty. If things would've ended bad, if Harry nor Ron had made it out of the war intact, Hermione knows that she'd never get over their loss and the hole they would've left. She sympathized with Parvati. And even though in previous years she'd never shared a proper conversation with the girl, she was glad that she got the chance to do that now. And both, despite of the past, shared the mourning over Lavender like all those they lost.

"It's a boy thing, isn't it?" Bringing Hermione back into the focus, away from the memories of war, Parvati kept that grin despite her brief sadness. "Did Nott finally do something right?"

Hermione coughed distractedly, picking up her schoolbag from the ground and putting it on her desk. "Why does Theo have to be involved?"

"Well, he is your boyfriend." Parvati didn't bother to hide the bewilderment in her voice or in her facial features. She removed her hands from her hips and crossed her arms over her chest. "Piss poor excuse of a boyfriend, if you ask me. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to get involved in your personal life or start rumours—"

"That's rich,"

"—but I really don't see why you're with him. I mean, he's a slimy Slytherin. And...You've not been happy once since you came out of the relationship-closet with him." A frown creased the dark-skinned girl's forehead. "Being in love with a boy, Hermione, is all butterflies and happiness and laughter."

Hermione stopped organizing the things inside her schoolbag. She felt a bolt of a realization kickstart her heart, but she forced herself to pull it down. She slowly turned to her roommate. "Love sometimes hurts, Parvati." It was a whisper that echoed throughout the lonely classroom. "Love is sometimes having to let go, even when you don't want to. Love is sometimes tears and pain and...Sometimes love is forbidden. It can't all be good."

Parvati gave a nod. "That may be so, but you're forgetting one important thing."

"And that is?"

"Fate," replied the other girl instantly, loudly. "Though I'm a preacher that love should always be magnificent and like a fairytale, I can't ignore that sometimes there's struggles to overcome. But you know what, Hermione? Love is fated. When two people are meant to be, despite the hardships, they'll be together. Even if you have to let go, if it's meant to be it'll come back and happen. There's no true tragedy there, is there?"

The brunette swallowed a knot of emotion. "The tragedy is that the loves that last forever are the ones that are impossible," she said quietly. "I think...The truth is that not many people get their happy ending."

"That's terribly gloomy," Parvati muttered, uncrossing her arms slowly. "If you think that way why are you still walking around holding Nott's hand? If he makes you that miserable I'd call it quits and tell the bloke an 'hasta luego', you know."

Despite the sudden miserable atmosphere, Hermione pushed herself through it to laugh. Choosing to stay there, Hermione shook her brown curls and refused to tell her fellow Gryffindor that it wasn't that simple; that her and Theo were going to be tied for life. But there wasn't a reason why she couldn't give her a hint of why that smile wouldn't come off her face for three days now. "What if I say it is a boy thing, but Theo has nothing to do with it? What would you think?"

"I'd think Hermione Granger has juicy gossip!" Parvati laughed. She was clapping her hands, looking completely eager and curious. "Whatever it is—whoever it is—he's certainly something if he can make you glow the way you've been glowing these past couple of days."

Hermione smiled automatically.

"Just like that." Parvati sighed, her enthusiasm suddenly disappearing. "I'm dying to know who it is, alas I did promise Padma I'd stop pestering people for delicious information. So, I'm going to resist asking you—it's a new thing I'm trying."

"It's working wonders for you, Parv."

The Gryffindor stuck her tongue out at her roommate. "Anyway," she huffed with feigned disdain, "I was going to ask if you knew where my sister went off to, but I can see you were completely lost in your thoughts about Mystery Boy to even remember if she was in here."

Hermione flushed slightly. "I may have heard her talking with Seamus about checking out a book for a project they're working on. You might find them at the library."

"Maybe I'll just meet her tomorrow morning. I'm sure she's enjoying her one on one time with Finnegan." Waving a hand and winking an eye at her, Parvati quickly turned on her heels and headed out of the classroom with a round of giggles following after her.

Hermione laughed too as she heard her roommate's footsteps become lighter against the corridor floor. She turned back to her desk and her belongings. Opening the latch of her schoolbag once again, she absentmindedly began to organize her things to make room for her textbook and that smile—that smile that apparently was making her glow—came back on.

It was almost ironic that for the past few weeks she'd felt nothing short of miserable, seeing no way out of that life-sucking abyss she fell into by choice, but then she'd found a silver-lining in piercing, molten-metal eyes. Draco Malfoy's eyes to be exact. But not just his eyes, his everything too.

Being wrapped up in his arms was definitely the place to be. It was the place where she felt free—and she couldn't remember when was the last time something made her feel exactly that.

The Slytherin Prince was far from being the cuddly type, even she knew that, but she was left speechless for an hour when he did nothing but stroke her spine with gentle fingertips and her head laid on his chest. The silence had been deafening, but not uncomfortable while it lasted. They took those minutes and stretched them out to cover all the ones they'd lost over the past weeks. They enjoyed just feeling the other there, relishing in the moment that she was his and no one else's. Wrapped around each other became their favorite place to be.

She never thought she'd find that sort of comfort in Draco Malfoy, but she realized in that moment, when his hand left her back to run his fingers through her hair, that she was glad she made that discovery. She was elated that they allowed themselves that night...

A night that might be the only one they'll ever have.

They didn't get into the obvious fact that Hermione never mentioned absolving the acceptance of the betrothal and glue her determination on finding a way out of it. They never once brought up the fact that Theodore Nott was definitely the factor keeping them apart. It was the evident elephant in the room, one that was not easily ignored, but Hermione appreciated it to no end that Malfoy tried his best to pretend like it wasn't there. It wasn't fair of her to do that to him, but she let herself be completely selfish for that night. She wanted to only exist with him inside the curtains of his four-poster—nothing outside of that mattered.

Picking up her schoolbag and pulling the strap onto her shoulder, Hermione lost her smile for a moment. That night she refused to acknowledge that she was engaged, but in that moment she couldn't ignore it. During class hours she didn't wear the ring on her finger—she didn't want to start rumours that would be proven true in the long run—but instead she wore it on a silver chain around her neck. It was currently adding pressure to her chest, the weight of the problem she was carrying, and she couldn't help but to agree with what she'd told Parvati: some people don't get their happy ending.

So, she would marry. She would marry Theo and, best case scenario, he becomes a best friend that she spends the rest of her life with. She'll be secluded to him, the walls of a home they'd have to create with each other, and eventually start a family by force. They'd have a respectable marriage, friendly and affectionate, but not a loving one. Neither one of them would ever know true love and romance.

What happens to Malfoy then?

She was selfish enough that night to let him embrace her, to let herself have him, but she could not make him wait a lifetime. There was no way out of the betrothal anyway, not until death parted her and Theo after the vows were said. The gruesome reality was that Malfoy was going to have to move on with his life. And what if he fell in love? What if he fell in love, got married and had children? What if he got his happy ending and she remained destined to suffer him from afar?

Tears welled in her eyes as she exited the classroom. Before she could shed them, however, she was grabbed by the waist and practically slammed onto the corridor wall. Her schoolbag fell and thudded against the ground, her arms pinned to her sides, forbidding her from grabbing her wand from her robe-pocket. Screaming was her only option, and she was going to take it. But the second it took to part her lips, her body halted itself from the fight-or-flight instincts.

If the stormy eyes looking into her coffee-colored ones weren't anything to go by, her skin tingling with wonderful sensations and her heart, her blood vessels, and every atom of her being jolting alive with a certain electrical current that only one person created was enough to sedate her.

"You can't do that," berated the brunette with a weak whisper.

He smirked tauntingly, nudging her need to always be right. "I can do anything I want."

She had to gulp, pausing for a second to catch her breath. He was so close to her—pressed tightly into her that she could feel his heartbeat against her own chest. His arms were caging her in, his silver eyes glancing down at her, and his breath tickled her nose.

How could she even attempt to form any sentence with his proximity?

Removing his right palm from the corridor wall behind her, Malfoy used his fingers to caress the side of her face. He didn't speak, he just smirked with the clear indication that he knew how much he unsettled her. No one in history could claim that they could leave the Brightest Witch of the Age speechless, and as long as he had the chance, he would pride himself in it.

Dragging his index finger from her cheek, tracing her bottom lip, pulling it lightly down her chin, feathering a trail down her neck, the moment broke when he stopped at the chain around her neck.

She had been frozen with delight, appreciating the murmurs of desire he caused, but was yanked away from them when her heart abruptly stopped its drumming. "Malfoy," her low voice highlighted the pain she felt in that second.

He ignored her. His thumb and index finger worked to pull the necklace and expose the silver engagement ring Nott had given her. He knew it was there, he'd seen her fiddle with it on occasions when she thought no one was looking, but it still felt like a hex when he was that close to it. It was the symbol, despite her claims and his memory of her in his bed, that she wasn't his. The ring was the barricading block along the road of their progression as Draco and Hermione.

The ring meant that he was losing.

"Let's leave." Engulfing his palm around the offending object, squeezing tightly like he hoped his strength could turn it into dust and release her from her tie to it, Draco kept his penetrating gaze on her. "Let's run away together, Hermione, and never come back."

She was always the eloquent one, she spoke with words that were high and respected, filled with knowledge and fact—she just couldn't find them in that moment. Her jaw slackened, eyes widening and looking up at the Slytherin with surprised confusion.

Malfoy continued, stepping over her silence. "We can disappear forever, just you and I. We can find a remote location at the edge of the fucking planet and never think about any of this. You don't have to go through this—let's run away."

If that wasn't a concept that led to fairytale endings, Hermione didn't know what else could be. There he was, her Slytherin in Shining Armour, ready to rescue her from a lifetime of imprisonment and forced relationships and misery; ready to fly off with her into the setting sun to live on love and promises.

How she craved it. Quickly and blindly her feelings for him occurred—they were overriding everything logical and coherent. All she wanted was to allow herself to take his hand, throw caution to the wind, and see how far they could go without killing each other. All she wanted was to see how much they could feel without exploding; how long the passion and affection living in their bones for one another could keep them alive.

"...And then what?" But she was Hermione Granger and the side of her brain that was dominated by that part could not forget reality. And reality was that there was a magical contract that bound her to its context.

Managing to snake her right arm around his neck and using her left hand to cup his cheek, Hermione stared sadly at him. "How do we live? How do we get to be together if we can't...I can't kiss you. I can't do anything the clauses in the contract considers cheating. I will never be able to touch you. And the sooner the...the wedding date approaches, I'm not going to be able to be more than a few days away from Nott without feeling like I'm being tortured."

His hand went to clutch the one she had on his face. "Am I supposed to give you up, then?" He gripped her harshly, practically sinking his fingernails into her skin. "Am I just supposed to fucking forget the way I..."

Easily, like it was a talent, tears blurred him out of focus when he abruptly stopped.

The truth was yes—that was the answer to both his questions. He was supposed to give her up, and yes, he was supposed to forget the way he felt. They both did.

"I hate you."

After he broke the momentary silence, she followed to crush it by letting out a fragile, humorless chuckle at his frustration. "I know," she patted his cheek, "I would too."

Breathing in deeply, Malfoy squared off his shoulders and something tilted in his silvery gaze. They'd been dark before, like a brewing storm in the middle of an opaque day, but now they were bright; like the moon on a perfect night.

"You keep calling me Hermione," she muttered to him as he took his time to just gaze at her, both his hands resting on her waist now. "It's strange."

"It's your name, isn't it?"

She frowned a little at his condescending tone. "I'm just curious as to why I stopped being Granger."

A struggle to become blank took over his expression. "If I stick to last-name basis I'd have to call you Nott one day. Hermione is eternal. That'll never change."

Her eyes closed, fighting off the tears that wanted to fall and trace down her cheeks. Like he'd done previously, she took a deep breath and tried to collect herself from the powerful emotions that were trying to break her at the same time they were trying to inspire her with blissful new chances.

Resting her forehead against his chest, waiting as his arms went to embrace her, she inhaled him in. "'All my heart is yours, sir'," she murmured, hoping he'd realized what she was quoting and how sincere it was. "'It belongs to you; and with you it would remain were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever.'"

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It was an addiction.

It was a bloody addiction and he didn't care that he was hooked. He didn't care that there was no letting go, that he was going to keep coming back for more and more, or that sooner rather than later his entire being was going to depend on it and nothing else was going to satisfy his hunger for it. He didn't care that he shouldn't be, that it was bad for him, that it was going to destroy him and cut him up. He didn't care that it was forbidden, that it was a sin for consuming something that had the capacity of being lethal and that wasn't his.

He didn't care that he was damned—Granger was worth the addiction and the corruption of his previously withdrawn soul.

He knew that he needed to stay away from her. He knew that there was no changing her mind, that she refused to take off the fucking engagement ring, but Draco could not stop himself from gravitating towards her. She was light and he'd spent too much time in the darkness to go back to the shadows once he got a taste of the sun. He needed her magnitude, her radiance, and he was going to bathe in it every second that it presented itself to him.

When Saturday morning came, all eligible students hurrying off to escape the castle and head to Hogsmeade for a change of scenery, both Draco and Hermione found themselves—coincidentally, if anyone was to ask—the only two students on the last carriage ride and steep pathway towards the village. After they'd gotten off, finding the road secluded, their hands had clasped automatically and they'd proceeded to walk like the world was at their disposal; like they could conquer it together.

Mindless chatter happened between the two, finding that their pace was uncharacteristically slow and sluggish. There hadn't been a reason to voice the obvious; they were determined to make their time together last as much as possible. They just wanted to appraise the sensations of growing more attached, of feeling high, and of things being in the place they needed to be for another moment of stolen time. Happiness came like powerful waves in the way they bickered—Divination was a foolish subject, and no, she didn't preach that because her crystal balls held nothing but fog—in the way they laughed—it was hysterical that Cho Chang's little sister punched Blaise on the face—and in the way their sides molded into each other and connected like puzzle pieces.

He knew then and there that he'd follow her anywhere. He knew then and there that he wanted nothing more than to have her. He wanted to fight for her, keep her for the rest of his days.

There never was a time when he thought he'd get to feel those cliche feelings he and the Slytherins mocked the other openly-affectionate Houses of experiencing and showing. He knew he was going to share his life with somebody, all distinguished pureblood heirs had a betrothed before birth, but he'd known that he would never get romance. He'd have a wife to pop out children, to continue the legacy, and that was it. But then Granger—Hermione—reappeared in his life and she made him see that anything was possible. She made him think that those cliche endings in nauseating romance novels weren't so terrible.

She made him want them.

If he had to succumb himself in opening his heart, sharing his life with someone by will, he wanted it to be with her. Draco didn't trust anyone, didn't allow anyone a glimpse inside to see the truly vulnerable angles to him, but he knew that Hermione was the best vault in the world to deposit those vulnerabilities. If he had to be weak, he'd be weak with her; she'd be the only one strong enough to build him up again. She was the only one willing to see the light in him despite of the wrong he'd done.

He honestly didn't know how he was going to let her go...

After walking several yards, stretching them like they'd been miles, their hands had released when they entered the busy village and they were forced to be nothing in front of the public.

The previous night, when they'd hid from the world inside the castle, she'd informed him of Allegra's request to meet in Hogsmeade. He'd just nodded impassively when she spoke, too concentrated on playing with one of her curls, but she'd smacked him roughly on the chest and demanded to know if he was willing to accompany her or not. Shamefully, for how fast he responded, Draco jumped on board in order to have her for another moment.

It'd seemed like a good plan then, sneaking around to share some time together, holding hands, just having her close, but then the good plan was throttled by something unexpected. They had been on their way to the Three Broomsticks, the entrance so close, but the Gryffindor had spotted a redhead before they got to their destination.

The look of utter happiness that broke out across her face just added weight to the dread Draco was feeling. He approached with her, too proud to run, yet too much of a coward to do so also. And when two distinct pair of eyes—both haunting for different reasons—looked up at him and Hermione, Draco felt like he'd been punched across the face repeatedly.

"George!" Hermione squealed with delight. "What are you doing here?" She left Malfoy's side, practically skipping over to hug the tall redhead.

A little put off, like people were used to seeing him since the war ended, George Weasley managed to put on a smile for the brunette and return her embrace. "Lovely seeing you here, Hermione. I figured you'd take the chance of a quiet castle to do some coursework."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the redhead and turned to the person next to him. With a smile, she knelt down and became eye-level with his company. "Hello, love."

With a glittering smile, one that was immediate, Teddy Lupin pulled his hand away from George's and opened his arms to Hermione. He made loud noises of approval, showing that he'd made the connection of who she was.

In one swift movement, Hermione swooped Teddy into her arms and lifted him up from his tiny feet. She hugged him tightly and then proceeded to press kisses on his chubby cheeks.

Baby giggles broke out between the little group as one year-old Teddy Lupin was lovingly attacked by the Gryffindor Princess. Both George and Malfoy stared at her with a certain awe; both a little enthralled by the way a glow wrapped around her and the infant. It was like they were source of light, like love existed and the grey day was shut away from them.

It's what innocence looked like.

"Why are you with Teddy?" Halting her spread of kisses on Teddy's face, Hermione turned to the redhead. "You're not the babysitting type—nor are you the babysitter anyone would consider leaving their kids with."

George stuck his tongue out at the brunette. "Mum was supposed to take care of the little lad, but Fleur had an appointment with a Healer today and Mum invited herself along. She's betting that Fleur's pregnant, but we keep telling her it was the casserole Muriel brought over for Christmas dinner that has her nauseated."

"That doesn't explain why you're here. Did you not open the shop today?"

The older wizard frowned. "What's with the questions, Granger? Can't a bloke come to Hogsmeade?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, lifting a brow.

Knowing perfectly well that nothing ever got over her, George sighed in resignation. "Okay, okay. I came to find Harry so he can take care of Teddy for a few hours. I've got a...I'm supposed to meet up with Angelina and there's things I don't want to discuss in front of a baby."

"You've got a date with Angelina Johnson? That's great, George!"

George almost face-palmed himself. "Shut it," he huffed. He knew people would jump to that conclusion, but Angelina and him shared the same mourning. They just understood each other. "Anyway, if I don't find Harry I won't be—"

"I can take him."

With unamused eyes, the redhead shifted them between Hermione, Teddy, to the momentarily-ignored Slytherin standing beside her. "I don't think that's a good idea, Hermione."

"Why not?" A scowl dented the girl's expression.

Sighing, George let it go. There was no need to bring up the very obvious fact that little Teddy and Malfoy were related and that the latter had a history of condemning those not of pureblood descent. Then again, if his memory served him, Ginny had gone on and on during the holidays about Ferret Boy being surprisingly neutral about everything nowadays.

Maybe he'd give the Slytherin the benefit of the doubt.

"Meet me in Zonko's in two hours, then," George told Hermione.

As the familiars exchanged their goodbyes, Draco kept his gaze focused on the toddler glued to Hermione's hip. He'd felt slightly uneasy with George Weasley, seeing as the poor bastard had lost his twin brother in the war, that he had the right to hate him for being a part of the group that killed his twin, but that hadn't been the worst part. The worst part had been looking directly into the grey eyes of Teddy Lupin and knowing that his short life was already clouded by tragedy. A tragedy he was a part of.

That little boy was Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin's son—he was Draco's family. And even though he was a child, even though he didn't expect him to connect the complicated dots, Draco knew that he'd never really know that they were related. They shared blood, they shared ancestors, history, and yet they were still strangers. They would always be.

Draco's guts twisted with shame, with guilt, with repentance and with sympathy. He looked at the little boy and couldn't help but to feel a sense of responsibility. His conscience woke from the slumber he forced it to go into so he didn't have to think of the loose ends that still needed fixing and now it was screaming at him. It demanded action.

"Malfoy?" Giving his head a slight shake, Draco blinked a few times and found Hermione staring at him quizzically. "Are you okay?"

They were inside the Three Broomsticks now. He hadn't noticed when they'd begun to move, but his senses were now buzzing with the chatter inside the pub, the smell of food and Butterbeer, and he could see the people in the background.

At his silence, a frown appeared on Hermione's face. "You're not bothered by Teddy, are you?"

Draco was not given a chance to answer when he heard their names being called from a table a few yards from them. Taking the chance, since he really didn't know how he was going to begin to explain what he was feeling over the presence of his dead cousin's son, he proceeded to place a hand on the small of her back and silently lead her towards the table.

"Ciao, tesoro." With a bright smile, Allegra Zabini stood from her chair. She looked ready to embrace her daughter, but she paused when she noticed the child in her arms. "Oh, and who's this?"

As Hermione presented a suddenly shy Teddy to Mrs. Zabini, Draco's attention went to his mother. The woman had had a polite smile on her face when she saw them approach, but when she had noticed the baby she went rigid. Her slightly warm exterior went blank, and Draco knew perfectly well that she was hiding her emotions. She would've succeeded in passing as indifferent—but there was a glimmer in her eyes that was almost similar to the remorse he was feeling.

"That bambino brings out a sparkle from you, Hermione," commented Allegra with a smile as they all settled into their seats.

Hermione smiled in return, carefully bouncing Teddy on her lap. "You think so?"

Mrs. Zabini nodded at her daughter. "It means you'll be an excellent mother one day."

Draco automatically tensed and his hands balled into fists underneath the table. For the moment he forgot about his family-oriented demons and instead let the addicted monster in him rage and thrash inside his chest. She wasn't his—how could he forget that? How could he forget that she was destined for another and with that obligation came the entire package of a life he wanted with her.

Hermione would one day make a fantastic mother, everyone was bloody sure of that by the way she coddled and protected—the devastation was that she was going to be the mother to Theodore Nott's children. And that, that he couldn't be around to see.

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She didn't know about the exterior, but Hermione could feel herself glowing from the inside.

Tingles of utter joy ran up and down like streams from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She felt light, like she was walking on clouds and about to set off in a flight towards the sky. There was a smile on her face that'd been stretching her lips for the past hour and a half; making her remember what it was to be that delighted with life.

Though she'd made peace about being a Zabini weeks ago, Hermione never really thought that she'd ever sit down with Mrs. Zabini and actually enjoy the time spent together. She found herself smiling when the woman spoke, laughing when something comical came up in conversation, and Hermione found a longing to finally get to know Allegra as a maternal figure and a person.

Allegra had sparkled like a diamond as well, true happiness stretching every millimeter of her gorgeous face when she saw the clear acceptance and comfort from Hermione's part; and she wasn't the only one captivated by the light wrapping around them.

More controlled and less expressive, Mrs. Malfoy had also exchanged smiles and pleasant conversation with the brunette. She interacted in the conversation when she thought was appropriate and answered the questions Hermione had. And though there was a wall of history keeping those two apart—a somewhat flimsy one now—Narcissa felt pride in calling the girl her goddaughter. There could be, if worked and treated carefully, a road to a friendly relationship between the two in the time to come.

Being the keen observer that she was, Hermione noticed Malfoy withdraw into himself and all his walls of defense come up to block him throughout the start of the interaction. There hadn't been much she found that she could do to knock on one of the walls and hope that he'd come out from behind them without giving their mothers an insight of what was really going on between them. As slyly as she could, at a point during the conversation of Blaise being attacked by a Third Year earlier that week, Hermione slithered her hand underneath the table and clutched onto Malfoy's left fist.

After a few minutes, he expanded his palm and their fingers had twined together. It didn't take long after that for a dim smile to appear at the corner of his mouth and for him to add to the conversation.

The time that followed ran in a smooth course: they ordered food and drinks, ate while laughing, Allegra and Draco toasted over Blaise finally getting put into his place for running his mouth, Hermione had been invited over to Malfoy Manor to see the Hawthorn tree Narcissa planted, Teddy had gotten tired of being on Hermione's lap and went from one person to another, the matriarchs of the Zabini and Malfoy clans proposed that both families went to Greece for the Easter holidays, and a few personal anecdotes were shared.

By the time Allegra and Narcissa bid their farewells, everything felt like they were inside an alternate universe. Everything was bright, glittering, and felt like marshmallow at the fingertips. It was like they slipped into a dream.

And what had made it better, though she reckoned she wasn't meant to see that bit, was Mrs. Malfoy's nostalgic and secretive embrace she'd given the baby in the group while she thought no one was looking. It had warmed Hermione's heart as much as it had filled her with hope for the Malfoy family as a whole.

"More! More!"

With the beautifully jubilant atmosphere surrounding the village, Hermione laughed wholeheartedly and added to the lively wind as she looked at little Teddy demanding another piece of Chocolate Frog. Both sat on a bench outside of Honeydukes, Malfoy squatting before them as he held the bag of sweets they'd gotten from the shop. All purchased by the Slytherin, three galleons worth, and more than half for Teddy—all except for the package of Licorice Wands he'd gotten for Hermione. (That almost made her snog him senseless in the middle of the shop.)

"You're going to be on an extreme sugar-rush, kid," said Malfoy with a crooked grin as he tore off a leg from the Chocolate Frog. "Don't blame me after."

Cooing happily at the chocolate piece, Teddy stuffed it into his mouth and began his process of first sucking on it, making it melt and rim his mouth messily, and then chewing on what remained solid.

If she ever snorted in distaste at the witches that stared at their crushes with unashamed doting eyes, Hermione was certainly a hypocrite then and there. She watched the interaction between the two, and every time her gaze landed on Malfoy she could feel the affection she felt for him shooting out and calling for his attention. It was on display, out in the open for the world to see, and she wasn't apologetic of it. There was something beautiful about him, and not just those profound silver eyes, sharp features, tousled white-blonde hair and toned body, but what was inside of him.

She knew he didn't think much about himself, that he still continued to live in the guilt and regrets of who he was pre-war, and she wanted nothing more than to tell him he was wrong. Who he was—that arrogant, prejudice bastard—was nothing to who he was becoming and the potential of who he could be. Once he dropped the venomous notions, once he saw that all blood soaked red and no race was mightier than the latter, Hope followed after him like a shadow with promises of a better future. If he worked hard at it, if he allowed the dreary light from within him to shine to its maximum capacity, then he would see miracles happen.

Teddy was going to be the starting-point of that process.

"You're good with him," whispered Hermione as Malfoy was blackmailed by the toddler's giggles for another piece of chocolate.

Looking away from the blue-haired boy, the blonde eyed the brunette carefully. "Anyone that can control someone else with chocolate seems good. The stuff's addicting."

He was trying to fight away the sincerity of the subject at hand, but Hermione never gave up on a challenge without pushing it to its limit. "What do you feel when you look at him?" She asked him with a steady voice, determination in her gaze. "Because I see hope in you, Malfoy."

Draco was ready to dismiss the topic, he didn't want to get into touchy matters in the middle of the busy Hogsmeade street, but he also knew his Gryffindor. She'd pester and demand until he gave in. The day was going perfectly to ruin it with his automatic need to shut the world away.

"Aside from my parents," he began in a hushed tone, a little cold for his defense, "Teddy and my Aunt Andromeda are the only family I've got left. And the fact that we're separated by decades of hate, that despite our blood-ties we're strangers...that's pretty grim."

She extended a hand out to him, waiting almost half a minute before he decided to extend his own and for both to clasp around each other. "It's terrible," she whispered in response, "but not broken. Don't think for a second that Andromeda isn't aware that the Malfoys are her only family. If...If there was an opportunity, a sincere chance to make things right, you'd be surprised of the outcome."

"You have high hopes in the world and in me, Hermione." Despite the blank gaze he had on her, Malfoy squeezed Hermione's fingers. "What if you're wrong?"

Not caring that she was in public, not caring that she had an image to uphold, Hermione did the only thing she was allowed to do without getting shocked by the obligations of a marriage contract. She rose their clasped hands to her mouth and pressed two kisses over his knuckles. "My judgment is unquestionable, Malfoy. I know because I know."

If it hadn't been for the same reasons that held her back from capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, Draco knew he would've forgoed the passing people and just snogged her until she was putty in his hands. He gave her a smile, dropping his barriers, and exposed the genuine affection and admiration he felt for her.

"—Oi!"

Intruding into the bubble of perfect fantasy that had formed around Draco and Hermione, both were equally as surprised when a group of six headed their way: two with smiles, Ginny and Luna; one with conflict burning in his gaze, Harry; two with neutral expressions, Ron and Pansy; and one very annoyed Blaise.

"Where the hell were you?! We were supposed to meet with Allegra in the Three Broomsticks twenty minutes ago!"

Shooting Blaise a fearing scowl, Hermione said, "watch your language, Blaise. Secondly, the meeting with Allegra was almost two hours ago. You were late—as usual."

"Of course I was bloody late! I had an entire pack of Ravenclaws to hex to restore my reputation! I couldn't just show up to Hogsmeade after that girl punched me on the face, could I?"

Smack.

"Maybe if you didn't open your mouth and spew exaggerations, Zabini, you wouldn't have gotten punched," snapped Ginny, though there was a glimmer of smugness in her brown orbs. "And watch your mouth, there's a baby present."

Throwing Ginny a grateful smile for the hit she gave her half-brother on the head, Hermione and the others became silent as Malfoy stood in his full height and Harry approached the bench. Her best friend extended his arms forward, the air filling with laughter and squeals when the baby recognized Harry, and he gathered his godson into his arms.

Tension was high as Harry and Malfoy eyed each other, expressions void of any revealing emotion, both momentarily ignoring the happily squirmy boy caught in the middle of the stance. A long moment passed where one could assume that Harry was about to protest the Slytherin's closeness to Teddy or that Malfoy was going to fight back, but none of that came. Forming more of that alternate universe Hermione was sure she was in, Harry handed Teddy over to Malfoy so he could stick a hand in his left pocket.

"He's a messy eater," stated Harry with a casualness that made Hermione, Ginny and Ron gape at each other, "and you'll be surprised how fast that sticks to him." Pulling out a napkin, focusing his emerald gaze on it, thinking of a nonverbal to dampen it, he handed it to his childhood nemesis.

As Malfoy gave Harry a nod, proceeding to wipe the chocolate off of Teddy's cheeks and chin, Hermione felt her contagious smile spread on her lips and pass on to Ginny and Luna.

"We're supposed to take him to Zonko's," she explained. "George said he was going to pick him up there. Care to join us?"

"He didn't really hex any Ravenclaws, you know," Luna informed Hermione in her whimsical voice as she and the others proceeded in the direction of the joke shop. "He tried dueling Michael Corner, but I saved him after he got turned into a rat."

"Shut it, Loony," snapped Blaise at the girl as Ginny, Ron, and Pansy snickered at his expense.

Ginny scowled at the dark-skinned Slytherin now. "Oi, watch it. You owe her your life, Zabini. The Ravenclaws were ready to feed you to the Hippogriffs."

"When the hell did Ravenclaws become so sadistic?" Ignoring the She-Weasel, Blaise frowned at his half-sister as he expected her to have an answer. "That entire House is out to murder me, Hermione!"

"You shouldn't have told the entire castle that you slept with Cho Chang!"

"I never said I shagged Chang!"

After the exchange between brother and sister, Pansy huffed. "You wrote it on the wall of the boys' lavatory, Zabini. Ron told me."

"Don't look at me like that," Blaise hissed at his sister as she scowled in her parental attitude, "they read it wrong! I clearly wrote that I snogged her! And, you—" he turned to his house-mate and the Gryffindor Sidekick, "since when is the Weasel Ron? Are you two lovers now?"

Pansy raised her chin, focusing her gaze on the road ahead while Ron coughed lightly, looking at his shoes as he hoped he didn't look nervous.

"We're not talking about Parkinson and Ron," began Ginny, "we're talking about how you're going to end up hanging from a post by your knickers, Zabini. If you don't apologize to Cho, the rest of the year is going to be painful for you."

Groaning, Blaise tossed an arm around Luna's shoulder and leaned his head against the top of hers. "Lovegood," he whined, "can't you make it go away? I'll hold you in high regards if you do. I'll even throw in one of my famous snogs, free of charge."

As Luna wrapped her arm around her brother's waist, Hermione found herself looking at the side of her where Malfoy, Harry and Teddy were. Her heart leaped as she saw both Slytherin Prince and the Chosen One struggling to clean Teddy's face. If there was anything good, anything new and pure that could make those two find a territory of neutrality to coexist without the shadowings of their loathsome past, it was in the child. He was Harry's love and loyalty, his grief for the lost Tonks and Remus, and he was Malfoy's chance to turn things around.

Three feet away from Zonko's, Hermione stopped in her path when she noticed a crack in her alternate universe.

With crossed arms, hands shaking at his sides, Theodore Nott clenched his jaw at the two Hufflepuffs impeding his path. Susan Bones was holding on to Zacharias Smith's hand, trying to pull him away from the danger zone, but the latter kept shouting; deep-rooted resentment in his blue eyes as they looked at the Slytherin.

Hermione couldn't tell what they were arguing about, just that it was a fraction of a time from turning physical. She could see the pain written all over Theo's face, but she saw the equal amount of restraint it was taking him not to smash one of his fists onto the Hufflepuff's face. Susan looked thoroughly terrified, yet sympathetic and outraged all in one.

She wanted to step forward, walk to them, they were so near, but she knew if she would she'd lose all the magic her day had held. She didn't want to cross the line back to the reality. She loved the parallel universe she created in Malfoy's company: she enjoyed watching his light, seeing him interact with her biological mother, his mother accepting her, their friends getting on—she didn't want to quit that. Just like she'd given herself that night in Malfoy's arms, she wanted to give herself that entire day where everything began and ended perfectly.

She didn't want Theodore Nott and their betrothal to exist in that hour.

Every moment was golden; she knew that just as much as she knew that enchantment could easily be broken by an unexpected occurrence. And the break to her blissful fantasy didn't come from assisting her future husband in the brawl he was in, but instead it came in the form of a jet of light skimming her shoulder and blasting one of the windows of a nearby shop.

Aria.

No attention was given to the sting in her shoulder. Hermione spun around as the people of the village froze and met the eyes of the hooded figure that had not forgotten about her all this time.

Aria.

The voice penetrating her mind echoed in painful waves; tempting her to clutch onto her head and scream at the discomfort. She would've done so, she would've given into the pain, but another jet of light shot out from her attacker's wand and she barely managed to duck and evade it.

Panic broke out in the street of Hogsmeade.

"Stupefy!" Jumping back to full height, Hermione shot her own curse and didn't wait to see if the hooded figure got hit by it. She turned as quickly as she could, ignoring the throbbing of the invasion going on in her head and ran.

Ginny, Blaise, Luna and Parkinson turned in the moment that people started shouting, shuffling, and the street became chaotic. Ginny's eyes widened, Blaise looked utterly terrified, Luna looked up to the sky, and Parkinson fumbled for her wand inside the bag hanging from her shoulder. Any of the four would've been ideal to stop the single attacker that was after Hermione—but one hooded figure had turned into a dozen.

In a flash of red light, Parkinson flew back and into a group of their classmates; Luna shot out a Shield Charm to the attacker apparating from the sky, making him bounce off the roof of a shop; Ginny ducked and missed the curse heading her way; and Blaise's emerald eyes darkened in color and he charged forward to duel his way towards his sister.

"Reducto!"

Hermione fell onto her hands and knees when the wall of a shop exploded and shards of brick and glass flew out in different directions.

Spinning into an angle, Hermione pointed her wand to a hooded figure and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

The spell was easily deflected.

Scurrying back onto her feet, Hermione ran forward; forgetting about the attacks from behind her as she managed to get a glimpse through the herd of people of Blaise getting disarmed. She knew of too many cases that ended in death with that action and she was not going to let her brother become one.

With an excellent stunning spell, Luna turned right on time to see Zabini land on his side. A hooded figure had his wand pointed at his face and the tell-tale sign of a green light was ready to spew out from the attacker's wand. "—Confringo!"

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when Luna saved Blaise from being murdered. She managed to see the Ravenclaw extend her hand out to the Slytherin, him taking it, and both standing back by back and ready to defend and fight.

Aria.

Cringing at that haunting voice booming in her eardrums, Hermione sagged slightly in her run when she finally caught sight of Harry, Ron and Malfoy exiting Zonko's. Confusion, fear, and panic was spread equally among the three.

"—Stupefy!"

"It took you bloody long enough!" Jumping back onto her feet as her attacker flew yards away and through a window, Ginny looked murderously at her boyfriend after he saved her life.

"Pansy!" Squinting through the running people, Ron called out for the Slytherin witch. "Where's Pansy?!"

It was all hectic. It was all fast, dizzying, and at the same time painfully slow. Hermione dodged out of the way of streams of spells, flying fragments of glass and shards of walls, and didn't give in to the horrid voice banging at the walls of her head. She met the silver eyes of Draco Malfoy, instant relief filling them when he saw her running to him—but then she was on fire.

A gut-wrenching shriek passed her lips when her insides went ablaze and the intruding voice in her mind mixed to give her an outrageous amount of agony. She landed on her front, but by the flames that were consuming her from the inside, she tossed herself in a single jerk onto her back. She arched upwards, screaming at the fire, screaming at the voice, and by the spear of glass that punctured the middle of her back.

Aria.

Purple light, purple light, purple light. That's what was setting her on fire, what was turning up the heat of the flames and turning her bones into ash.

Screams. Screams. Screams.

She tried to turn herself over; she tried to find her palms and knees through the flames and crawl her way out of it. She only managed to roll over onto her stomach. Another booming sob escaped her lips when another chunk of glass stabbed her hip.

Ginny and Harry were dueling three hooded figures; Blaise was on an attacker's back, his fist banging on his head; Luna was secluded to a corner, Protego Charm up to bounce off the hexes being thrown at her; Ron was nowhere in sight; and Malfoy was roaring as he shot out curse after curse, trying with desperation to get to her.

You're time is up, Aria.

Through her tears, just as the Slytherin Prince managed to get several yards closer to her after hexing his opponent, their eyes met for a single moment of time. His grey eyes were filled with mortification, agony, and rage; tears glazing them over with fear.

He was beautiful and human—she couldn't help but to think that in that second.

Their connection broke when fingers snaked into her brown curls and pulled her up.

"HERMIONE!"

"DRACO!"

Their voices were the last thing they heard from one another when a crack hauntingly echoed through the village and she felt the sensations of side-along apparition take her far away from him and the perfect world they had created for a day.