They let a few days pass, taking turns in hiding under the invisibility cloak in front of the obscene and opulent mansion inside which Dolores Umbridge was serving her house arrest, in the hope that soon she would be sent to Azkaban.
After only a few days they had accumulated several photographs showing council members entering and leaving Umbridge's home. It was not enough evidence to send them all into the arms of the dementors, but it would be enough for a public humiliation they could not ignore.
When 'The Quibbler' finally published the incriminating article, Hermione felt as light and excited as she had in months.
Although she had no idea what would become of her future, she was finally happy.
Maybe for the first time in her life, she just felt like enjoying the moment and seeing what would happen.
She watched the crowded entrance to the ministry the day after the article came out. Journalists from all over Britain crowded outside the main entrance. The small strikes and protests that had been going on from department to department in recent days had turned into a much larger phenomenon. A crowd of protesters, most of them employees whom Hermione recognized, were now outside.
The thing that had managed to animate the spirits and unite the magical society so much was the hatred for a common enemy. Draco, at her side, seemed to think as she did, and smiled at her with an amused air.
The first offer to get her old job back had come in the mail to Hermione's house after the first week of protests. She and Draco had a fat laugh and tossed the letter into the fireplace as they reviewed the details regarding the plan for Muggleborns at Hogwarts.
"With McGonagall's support we might actually succeed within this year," gasped Hermione as she looked at the numbers that had come in regarding letters being sent to muggleborns children.
"Ah, remind me again about her visit to your house."
"It was horrible," Hermione rolled her eyes. "My parents almost had a heart attack, and they even called the police. The muggle world needs this"
Draco returned her smile. "Not just the muggle one."
Hermione's expression was thoughtful as she looked at the second letter that had arrived from the ministry, in which along with her old job she was being offered a pay raise.
She threw it into the fireplace. "I think I should take a sabbatical, stop for a while," she said, the words spoken quickly one after another.
Draco looked up from those number-filled sheets that were giving him a headache and focused on her. He raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you are physically capable of doing it?"
Hermione tapped him on the shoulder with a bundle of paperwork. "I'm not going to do nothing. I'd like to focus on this project," she continued, pointing to what they were working on, "and then maybe find some investors."
"I am your investor."
Hermione gave him a look that soon silenced him. "I know that," she sighed. "But with a little help I could apply this idea not only to muggleborns cause. We could help so many other categories, run campaigns to raise public opinion and force it to pay attention to certain issues."
"I would say we're quite good at raising public opinion."
Hermione smiled. "I realized that change in the ministry cannot start unless there is a push from outside first. I would like to be that push."
"Let me help you with that, then, Hermione Granger."
Another week passed when Hermione had to go to trial to testify against Pritchett and the rest of the fake healers and nurses who had kept her at St. Mungo's.
She feared that the trial would bring up doubts and questions about her particular condition, but David had been of the opinion that neither the judge nor any of the jury would mention the real reason why they had detained her. They would focus only on the political side of the story.
The trial had been open to the public, and more people than the large ministry courtroom was capable of accommodating had actually shown up that day.
Of course, Cameron was also present. Her small, dark eyes darted with disdain between Hermione, who returned her gaze defiantly, and her brother sitting in the dock, who had spilled the beans in hopes of keeping himself away from Azkaban.
"Don't worry," David whispered in her ear. "After this confession, an investigation will be opened on her, she will pay for what she did to you."
The man's screams filled the courtroom, plunging it into silence as he was handed over to the dementors and escorted to the prison in which he would spend the next five years.
"I'm not supposed to say this," David then continued. "But I have filed a request for an investigation against Umbridge for interference with the ministry, and given her precarious condition under house arrest I think there is a good chance that her sentence will also be reevaluated."
Hermione felt an additional weight lift from her chest. Everything was coming back into place, and justice would finally take its course.
Six years later
As she tried to fit yet another sweater into her already overflowing suitcase, it took all the goodwill Hermione could find within herself to convince her not to give in to Draco's suggestion.
On the other side of the room, sitting on top of another equally full suitcase, Draco huffed. "Remind me why we decided not to use the unrecognizable extensive spell, Granger, because I'm having a really hard time keeping it in mind."
"Ah, I'm Granger again now?"
Those blue irises glowered at her defiantly, lips bent in a smirk. "You're Granger every time I remember that time we were forced to spend the whole night at the airport."
She rolled her eyes, finally relinquishing that last sweater and tossing it on the bed with little delicacy. "It's been three years, Malfoy."
Draco's eyes lit up.
Malfoy, mmhh?
Hermione looked one last time in the mirror, running her hands over her disheveled curls, then stared at the watch.
"Yes, Granger. We're late, in case you were wondering."
But you look stunning in that dress.
Hermione allowed herself an extra second in front of the mirror to admire the emerald green dress Draco had gifted her. She had been very skeptical about wearing it on this particular occasion, but for Merlin if looked good on her.
She then took one more second to look at him, taking in the sight of the dark tie and elegant suit that perfectly swathed every inch of his figure.
Draco followed her into the living room and then to the front of the fireplace.
"Don't forget the present," Hermione said as she grabbed the bag of floo powder.
"Like they'll ever notice it's missing," he rolled his eyes. Hermione poked him with her elbow as the flames enveloped them.
The Parkinson Family Manor was the most elegant place Hermione had ever set foot in. The various guests for the engagement party had already flocked in large numbers and the hall was teeming with people Hermione had never seen.
She knew that David and the former Slytherin were definitely socialites, yet she would never have imagined the true extent of their friendships.
After all, although she had been initially surprised, Hermione had finally been forced to admit that the two were perfect for each other.
Draco took her hand as they made their way through the crowd. If Hermione had thought she was overdressed, as she wandered through the crowd of guests now she was almost beginning to feel too casual.
Relax, Hermione. You are the hottest person in the room.
"You always exaggerate," she murmured under her breath for only him to hear.
'I'm not exaggerating at all, but if you don't believe me let's go home and
His hand slid imperceptibly downward over her bare back.
I will offer you a demonstration
Hermione swallowed, letting go a cry of relief when she caught sight of Ginny's long red hair in the distance. She dragged Draco with her, trying to ignore the sensation his words caused her every time he communicated like that in her mind.
"Oh, thank God," she sighed, hugging her friend.
Ginny wore a long blue dress and had her hair down her muscular shoulders.
"Congratulations, Weasley," Draco murmured with a nod.
The redhead raised her glass of champagne in thanks.
Although Hermione didn't love quidditch, she had to admit that the last game of the championship had been a thrill. When Ginny had scored the final goal, carrying the Holidays Harpies to victory, even Draco let go of his icy façade of indifference and cheered like Hermione had never seen him do.
Harry joined them a second later, having dismissed an elderly man who seemed unwilling to stop congratulating him on one of his final missions. He proudly wrapped an arm around Ginny's waist. "It's going to be a long night," he muttered.
The redhead took another sip from her glass. "I don't mind getting compliments."
"Of course not," replied Harry, a big smile on his lips, then turned his attention to Hermione and Draco. "Ready to go?"
Hermione could not help but think back to the chaos in her apartment. "Ready."
Are you sure, Granger?
She gave Draco a shrug as he grabbed two elegant glasses from a passing waiter. In a few hours they would be on a flight to Australia for their annual visit to her parents.
It was a tradition that had been going on for five years now, and had started almost by accident. It had been Draco's idea, and Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins were now used to the two annual visitors from London.
"But weren't you supposed to be in charge of a new campaign this very week?" asked Harry, intrigued.
Hermione's hand tightened around the glass, and Draco stroked her back in slow movements, reminding her of their conversation a few days ago.
"We've delegated," she finally replied, seeing Draco barely bend his lips in amusement. "Dean will take care of it, alone this time."
"Really alone," finished the blond for her.
Ginny smiled. "Good Herm, because even though you've dressed up, it remains clear that you need a vacation."
Hermione feigned offense, but in reality she was dying to indulge in the sun and salt water that awaited them in just a few hours. The resort her parents had opened was incredible....
Her mother had always told her about this dream she had since she was a child, which involved marine biology. Eventually, however, her family had brought her down to earth and forced her to choose a more practical job such as dentistry. If nothing else, Hermione had tried to partially fulfill this desire. The first time they had visited them, she felt the wound in her chest begin to heal when seeing the light in her mother's eyes, now Monica Wilkins', who was leading tourists on underwater excursions along the reef. She was really looking forward to the trip now. The past weeks had been exhausting.
Theodore Nott joined them, looking a little less groomed than usual. Although his usual self, Hermione had to admit, was becoming increasingly unkempt of late.
"You're working too hard, man," sighed Draco. The inclination of his voice suggested to Hermione that they had been through this specific conversation more than once.
Theo smiled. "Well, I broke the record, though."
"What record?"
Theo looked toward Harry, who in turn kept his gaze fixed toward the floor in an unnaturally rigid way.
Draco shook his head. "You know what? I don't think I want to know."
Theo put a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry if we're not all so hard-pressed gracing old rich ladies to fund our association. No offense, Granger".
Hermione smiled. "None taken."
"By the way, what is your latest project now?"
Hermione had just opened her mouth to speak when Ginny blocked her, taking her by the arm. "Uh-huh, enough work talk. We're here to have fun."
She began to drag her toward the center of the large room, under Draco's bewildered gaze.
"She'll be all yours for two whole weeks, Malfoy, these two hours are mine," she said behind her back as they walked away.
Hermione laughed.
Ginny dragged her from the opposite end of the room, and then to a corner where they had set up a table filled with desserts of all kinds. Hermione reached out to grab one, but Ginny jerked her wrist and dragged her even farther away.
"Ginny but what..."
"I need to talk to you. I want you to be the first to know," she said. "Except for Harry, of course. And George. But right after that it's you."
Hermione was confused, and now hungry, too. Her mind kept replaying that chocolate-covered pastry she had almost laid her fingers on only a second ago.
"Well?" asked Ginny of her.
She squinted her eyelids. "Well what?"
"Haven't you heard?"
Ginny, seeing her confusion, brought a finger to her temple, banging it several times.
"I'm not going to read your mind."
The redhead sighed, then looked around suspiciously and finally spoke softly. "I'm pregnant."
Hermione opened her mouth wide, certain that her eyebrows had gone up to her forehead. Then she folded her lips into a smile and approached Ginny, who motioned with a hand for her to remain silent.
She closed her mouth again, a mix of emotions stirring under her skin. Surprise, happiness, and even a little confusion.
"This is wonderful news, Gin," she said.
Her friend's eyes sparkled. "I know, and I need you. I would like to surprise my mother, and I really feel that this baby will be a girl, but ..."
Hermione closed her eyes, then stared at her friend in bewilderment. "Now?"
She did not need a verbal response; the look on Ginny's face was unmistakable.
Hermione was not sure it would work. With the previous pregnancy she had discovered by accident that she was able to sense the baby's thoughts all the way inside the womb. But it had happened at a fairly advanced stage.
"I'm not even sure it will work, Gin. How many weeks along are you?"
"Fourteen."
Hermione squinted, causing her eyes to dart to her friend's almost completely flat belly.
"Technically thirteen and a half," the redhead then continued. "But I'm in post-season form."
Hermione took a deep breath, and as she looked around the room to make sure no one was paying attention to them, she noticed the glass of champagne in the redhead's hand.
"Gi-"
"It's apple juice," her friend quickly blocked her. "I'm not that irresponsible."
Hermione relaxed her shoulders. "All right," she said finally, because she knew that if Ginny wanted something, then she would get it one way or another. There was no point in trying to talk her out of it.
She closed her eyes, lowering her barriers and allowing only Ginny's thoughts to pass through them. Then she slowly circled around them, descending deep into her power, and focused on the small indistinct sound she could barely hear.
It was as if there was a small voice calling to her, as if it had caught her intrusion.
Unlike what had happened with James, who had been grown up enough that his thoughts almost screamed to be heard, this was barely a whisper.
She moved closer, as if she was swimming underwater, pushing herself deeper and deeper. And the deeper she went, the more that pressure built, turning into a ringing in her ears. She just had to hear it, just to find out if...
She opened her eyes. Ginny stared at her hesitantly.
"You were right," she just said, before finding herself clutched between the muscular arms of her friend.
When, after several seconds, their embrace dissolved, they both had full view of the new, and perhaps last, arrivals at the party.
Ron was dressed in an elegant dark blue suit and on his arm was... Hermione had to blink several times.
"Cho Chang?" She asked to Ginny.
The redhead nodded. "He and Millicent broke up a few weeks ago."
Hermione laughed. Ron had apparently gotten his womanizing reputation off the ground, and he was now used to being seen at public events with several female escorts. Of course, the newspapers were writing story after story about it, and although at first both his friends and family were concerned about it, Ron was instead amused.
He turned a nod toward them, with a look that indicated he was fully aware that they were currently gossiping about his new girl.
Slowly, Ginny and Hermione returned to the others. The conversation they had engaged in was interrupted when the redhead grabbed Harry by the arm with all too much enthusiasm and whispered something in his ear.
Draco gave Hermione a questioning look, to which she responded by shaking her head.
Is this a secret? I guess I'll have fun extorting it later then....
She began to feel her cheeks turn red.
Lately Draco had been provoking her more and more, and the things he did afterwards... She really needed to stop thinking about it right now.
Don't think about it, Hermione. I'll do it for you...
The hours that followed, before finally returning home, were the sweetest of tortures.
***
Hermione hated airports: the endless lines at the check-in, her suitcase that never fit, Draco who somehow always ended up carrying something he shouldn't and made that horrible machine ring.
Still, traveling as muggles was the safest way to do it. The Australian Ministry of Magic had very strict rules about intercontinental travel, and the checks they imposed on newcomers had made Hermione suspect that it would not be safe for an undercover legilimens to undergo them.
And, after all, traveling as muggles offered them something to talk about whenever they reached the resort and the man at the front desk, almost always her father Wendell, asked them 'So, how was your trip?'
The first year, a child had vomited on Draco's legs. Since then they had decided to book expensive business class tickets to avoid the crowds. The second year there had been such turbulence that it was Hermione who had vomited on the poor flight attendant. Draco hadn't stopped teasing her until the following year, when he had had the bright idea of bringing a jar of jam with him as a souvenir from Australia, which had held them up for hours at the checkpoints, so much so that they had eventually missed their flight and spent the night at the airport.
The next year they had forgotten their passports at home. Nothing that a quick apparation couldn't have solved, if only they hadn't risked breaking the secrecy and being arrested. Luckily, two of their best friends were in the police force and covered them up. And now they were about to miss their flight because they hadn't been able to keep their hands off each other after returning from the engagement party.
Oddly enough, this time fate seemed to be on their side. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she took her seat next to Draco on the plane. A few minutes after takeoff she fell deeply asleep on his shoulder.
Once they reached the resort they settled into their usual room and slept for another ten consecutive hours to recover from the jet lag before their vacation officially began.
Wendell and Monica used to spend some time with them during their stay when the resort wasn't at its fullest. The tourist season had yet to begin, and both she and Draco seemed to appreciate the quiet. The sun was hot on their skin but without burning too much when the Australian summer was just around the corner. Which was good considering that on their first year Draco ended up with second degree burns.
On the mornings following their arrival Hermione, as was her wont, went diving with Monica to admire the coral reef. The water was freezing, but a heavy suit and a small warming spell were enough to make her want to stay underwater as long as possible. Her mother, on the other hand, seemed to feel neither the cold, nor the tiredness.
In the evening, after a day spent diving and reading on the beach, she and Draco used to have dinner inside the resort or in small nearby restaurants. Draco, she knew well by now, loved Muggle cuisine, and he also had quite a refined palate.
They had drunk wine and eaten lobster that particular evening. First-class travel and fancy dinners were becoming more and more frequent lately, and Hermione was seriously beginning to wonder about the amount of money Draco had actually inherited, and also for how long they could go on like this.
Once they finished eating they walked barefoot on the beach in front of the resort. The full moon illuminated the sea, making almost all the stars invisible. The sand was damp and cool under her feet and the scent of saltiness filled her lungs, sweeping away any worries, anxiety or stress she had accumulated in recent weeks.
"Hermione, I know what you were thinking."
She looked toward Draco, her eyebrows raised.
"I was at gringotts just before we left. I wanted to take a look at my vault."
"Is something wrong?" Hermione wondered again about his seemingly infinite wealth. Perhaps there was a limit, after all. Or maybe his parents had seen what use he was making of their money, squandering it in the Muggle world and on causes they would never approve of, and had decided to cut him off.
"It's nothing like you think, Hermione. I can read the concern in your expression."
Hermione tried to relax the muscles in her face, sinking her toes even deeper into the sand as they slowed to a stop.
"Okay, I'm listening."
Draco took a deep breath, as he always did when he was nervous about something and tried to calm his voice before it betrayed him.
"I went to my vault. Since my mother left me the key, I thought I was the only one with access to it, but now I'm sure that's not the case."
"Oh my God Draco, did someone break in?"
Draco lowered his gaze, tightening his lips.
I'm doing it all wrong.
Hermione was growing more and more confused.
"I mean to say that I found an object, in my vault, that has belonged to my family for generations. I thought I had given it up after the war, after I left, and yet ... I think it's my mother's work."
He paused for a long moment, and Hermione saw his hand reach into the pocket of his pants. He pulled out a small velvet box and swallowed. Hermione caught a slight tremor in his fingers.
"I think there's a reason it ended up in my hands," he said as he slowly opened the small box.
Hermione brought her hands to her mouth.
I should be kneeling now cursed Draco mentally as he lowered himself in front of her.
Hermione paid no attention to it. She kept staring at the small, delicate emerald in front of her, reflecting the moonlight above their heads. She had no words.
It was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen, and she had seen many lately, gathering backers among wealthy magical families across Europe for their projects for Muggleborns and magical creatures.
"It's yours, Hermione."
She was speechless, yet she felt she had to say something. She opened her mouth, but nothing coherent came out.
"Draco-"
"As I've been for quite some time now".
He swallowed and Hermione did the same. They looked into each other's eyes, silent for a few more seconds, the only sound that of the waves crashing on the shoreline.
Will you marry me, Hermione?