June 2009
It was only for a brief moment, but Hermione had the strangest sensation, akin to an out-of-body experience. For just a minute, she allowed her mind to wander away; carried along on a thread until she felt as if she viewed the scene around her as an outsider. Draco and she hosted a dinner party for his recent birthday with some of their friends and only half of them were pureblood.
She'd only acquiesced to leaving Harry, Ron, and the rest out for tonight because she already knew that the dinner at the Burrow the next evening would include a birthday cake made by Molly Weasley herself, just for Draco. Let him try and refuse that woman's determination to lavish him with maternal affection and criminally delicious chocolate gateau.
Draco had allowed Hermione to plan a simple get-together with the restricted guest list of Theo, Sasha, Astoria, and Dennis. He resolutely refused to allow any Potters or Weasleys on his property for his birthday.
"I'd rather not spend the evening fighting the urge to stab Weasley over his abominable table manners and for the last time, all I asked for this year was to shag you in the Transfiguration section of my library." She'd already delivered that present this morning.
Hermione knew he'd meant the shagging quip as a throwaway joke, but she hadn't forgotten his confession about his Amortentia scent being partly made up of her in his library. Earlier, as Draco sat at his desk answering a few letters, Hermione wandered down a row and around the corner, out of his line of sight.
"Malfoy?" she called after a few minutes. "I need a few of these titles from the top shelf and I've left my wand in your room."
She had not left her wand in his room.
"Would you be so kind as to reach them for me?"
Hermione heard a sigh and the scraping of the chair legs on the floor as he pushed back from the desk. The click of his shoes drew closer.
"Granger, honestly, how do you go through life this vertically-challenged?"
He rounded the corner. "And really, leaving your wand, I mean—"
He stopped when he saw her at the end of the row. She wore nothing but sheer, blush-colored knickers.
"Happy birthday," she said with a grin.
"Indeed," Draco exhaled and stalked towards her. He backed her into the nearest shelf and pinned her there with his hips. For a few frantic minutes, he kissed her breathless with his hands buried in her hair.
Hermione felt him grow hard against her and trailed her hands down to his belt buckle, but Draco intercepted her. He took both her hands in his and held them above her head, pressing their bodies even closer together. He interlaced their fingers and ground into her, the friction against her barely-covered core making her writhe desperately in search of relief.
Draco kissed along her jaw, down her neck, then sucked the skin of her collarbone. He could perform that same pleasant journey as many times as he liked, and at varying speeds, and it never failed to make her whimper.
Gods how she wanted to touch him; to grab, caress, and clutch at him in a manic display of pure need.
She flexed her hands but he tightened his hold.
"Can I trust you to behave and keep your hands up here? Or do I need to restrain you with magic, since I do have my wand on me?"
He increased the intensity of his grinding against her pelvis and she understood the implication perfectly: any disobedience and he'd stop all delicious contact.
"I'll behave."
"Good girl, see that you do."
He tested her resolve immediately; releasing her hands and palming her breasts with practiced brushes of his thumbs over her nipples. His lips and tongue followed his touch, and she arched into his mouth, nonsensical pleas tumbling out of her in an unstoppable stream. But her hands stayed put.
"So good for me," he murmured as he kissed down to her navel, tugging her knickers off as he went.
Draco knelt before her and gently lifted her leg and rested it over his shoulder. Now the torture commenced along the skin of her inner thigh with open-mouthed kisses and nips and Merlin, how she wanted to grab him by the hair and shove his face between her legs, but it wasn't her birthday. And Draco always rewarded her patience.
He finally licked at her center, dragging his tongue up her slit and circling her clit, and the pressure building within her boiled over embarrassingly quickly. Only Draco could make her forget that she was pressed stark naked against a library shelf, sweating and shaking all over precious first-edition tomes that could fetch a disturbing number of Galleons at an auction. He splayed his large hands across her hips bones and kept up an eager assault with his tongue until her lower body thrashed and her cries filled the cavernous room.
Draco sweetly pecked her thigh then lowered her leg back to the floor and stood, towering over her. His eyes gleamed with a clear intent to please and be pleased.
"Turn round for me and place your hands on the shelf in front of you."
She faced the stacks and heard the clink of his belt buckle, the unzipping of his trousers, then his voice in her ear.
"On your toes."
Hermione stood as tall as she could and it took a few attempts before Draco could fully sheath himself within her.
"Fuck," he muttered. "You're all I've ever wanted."
She could no longer make sense of any of the written words in the titles of the books inches from her face. Draco had thoroughly obliterated her ability to perform basic reading comprehension.
His vocalizations pitched lower as he thrust harder and faster while hers pitched higher.
"I... Draco... don't stop... love you... Draco!"
It had been the perfect start to the day.
Now, she sat out on Draco's verandah, overlooking the lush acreage behind the estate, in the midst of pleasant dessert course conversation with Astoria. The younger woman chattered away rapidly about newlywed life, enthusiastic in her burgeoning relationship with her new Muggle in-laws, and paused only to take dainty sips of tea or another delicate forkful of the sumptuous tiramisu made by Sasha.
Sasha had joined the men for this course; their group a polite distance away so they could smoke the cigars brought by Theo. Though Hermione loathed the smell of cigar smoke, she couldn't deny that Draco looked rather dashing as he brought it away from his lips to puff out a gentle stream of smoke. She also rather admired the way his long, deft fingers firmly held the cigar in his hand; a man confident in his status. Gods, she was hopeless.
"She's really something, isn't she?" Astoria's light voice was amused as they watched Sasha blow some impressive smoke rings, easily outdoing the men.
Hermione chuckled and turned back to Astoria, shoving her lust for Draco aside for the time being. They'd only just made love in the bath not an hour before their guests arrived and yet Hermione already wanted to drag him back to his bedroom.
"And her desserts!" gushed Astoria, taking another bite off her plate. "You'd think Theo would be a stone or two heavier by now!"
Hermione laughed, having had the same thought herself after being treated to several of the wondrous confections made by Sasha.
"How is Daphne's wedding planning coming along?" Hermione asked.
Astoria's face fell. "Oh, fine I suppose. We haven't..." she put down her tea cup and fiddled with her hands in her lap. "We haven't seen each other since my marriage to Dennis," she confessed sadly.
"I'm so sorry."
Astoria waved her apology away. "No, it's all right, I understand, I do." She met Hermione's eyes earnestly. "It's not because of Dennis or his blood. She's mad that I kept this from her... that I didn't come to her for help... that I didn't have faith that she would have tried to intervene with my parents on my behalf. She feels like she's failed as my older sister."
Hermione reached over and laid a comforting hand on her knee. "She's accepting your letters at least?"
"Yes," Astoria nodded. "We've been writing to each other. It will take some time, I'm sure, to build that trust again, but it's more than I can say for my parents. Her wedding will be in December, so perhaps by then..." she trailed off and looked out over the grounds.
Hermione retracted her hand and waited for Astoria to gather her thoughts.
"I did want to speak to you on another matter entirely," said Astoria suddenly, her tone now brisk and excited.
"Oh?"
"Yes. About your fund for students of non-magical parents. I'd like to help!"
Hermione beamed. "That's wonderful! I'd been meaning to ask you for some time now but I'm just so busy with work these days. There are a number of volunteer positions open and—"
"No Hermione, I'm not looking to volunteer. I want you to hire me."
Hermione blinked in surprise. "Hire you?"
"Yes," Astoria affirmed. "I think I'm right in assuming you've got far too much on your plate and this fund is much too important to our world for you to not give it more attention day to day."
Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times, unsure if she should be affronted or ashamed.
"Hermione, listen to me," Astoria continued, taking advantage of Hermione's speechlessness. "I meant no offense. Your ideas are the foundation of this entire movement. Your legacy is what will drive it forward. You yourself exist as a living inspiration to Muggleborn witches and wizards and I'm now also telling you that this wonderful vision of yours will not succeed unless you have dedicated help. Let me be that dedicated help. And Dennis, too, actually, he'd like to be involved as well."
"I..." Hermione faltered unsure of how to proceed. This fund of hers had been a long-time dream come true. A program she'd wished desperately for as a young witch, new to the world of magic. She'd closely guarded these ideas and hopes for so long, never thinking they'd see the light of day.
Then along came Draco, supporting her greatest ambition to try and create a more equitable magical society. And he hadn't mocked or scorned her or accused her of naïve idealism. If Hermione had learned anything from the genesis of her eponymous charity, it was that only with the kind assistance of passionate people would it succeed and sustain momentum for years to come. She owed it to future generations of magical families to swallow her own pride here.
Though the fund may have her name across the top of it, it wasn't about her. Not anymore. Hermione stuffed her ego down and smiled at Astoria.
"What did you have in mind?"
Astoria had done her homework. From inside her purse she pulled out a shrunken copy of the funding agreement that had been publicly filed with the Ministry, the Board of Directors list, and the charter and bylaws recently put into place by Hermione herself.
She took a deep breath and then confidently looked Hermione in the eye. "I had excellent NEWT scores and those accomplishments have been gathering dust in a drawer in my parents' home since the day I received them. I have never had to work for a living, nor would it have been expected of me to pursue a career. Obviously I was meant for marriage to some pureblood wizard and then my purpose in life would eventually shift to mother."
Astoria shook her head. "What my parents never knew was that from the time I was a young girl and they'd instilled in me that I would one day enter an arranged marriage, I began an extensive study of betrothal contracts. I wanted to know exactly what awaited me. What I found and read was horrifying, I'm sure you can imagine. Witches hardly gained much through marriage, and I knew when the eventual day came that I'd be approached by suitors, I would be prepared. I would exploit any and every contractual loophole if I wasn't pleased with my parents' choice for me."
"Fortunately, that day never came," she shot a smile in the direction of Dennis. "So what I am telling you is that you are looking at a woman with endless amounts of spare time, who achieved good marks at Hogwarts, who is familiar with contracts and fund agreements, who sat at her mother's knee and learned to plan society events, and who recently married a Muggleborn and understands the struggle he, his brother, and his father went through in coming into our world."
She gestured to the table. "I've looked through the funding documents and I've seen the official amount of Galleons collected. Hermione, you have more than enough to hire a full-time staff of at least five. You're going to need at least that if this program is to be executed properly. And I'd like to put myself forward as your first permanent hire."
She thrust a copy of her NEWT scores and then a separate parchment on which was written an extremely thorough job description into Hermione's hands. But what caught Hermione's eye (besides the impressive level of detail Astoria had thought to include) was the title of the job itself: Administrative Assistant.
Hermione quickly read through Astoria's job proposal then looked up at her with a small frown. "Astoria I cannot hire you as an administrative assistant."
"Oh," her features fell in disappointment and Hermione shook her head.
"I cannot hire you for that position because the duties and responsibilities you've outlined so thoroughly here are akin to that of... well I'd say the title of Associate Director. You're talking about taking over the day to day running of this entire program... Astoria, I'll need to hire you an admin."
Her cheekbones flushed a light pink. "Oh, well, that's really unnecessary, I don't care about the title—"
"Astoria if you are to work for me in this capacity you need to accept the proper title for the job duties you perform." Hermione's eyes scanned the job pitch again. "As well as the proper wage. You're rather underselling yourself here."
"Hermione, I certainly don't need the money."
"It's not about need, it's about what's right. I will take another look at the budget for the upcoming year and make a final determination from that number to give you the correct salary. But based on what I can quickly estimate in my head, I'd say you were off by about 7,000 Galleons at least."
"I couldn't possibly—"
"Astoria, stop. You've come this far and if you are to be successful in your career as a witch then you need to learn to negotiate for what you are owed."
Astoria regarded her thoughtfully for a minute then a slow grin overtook her face. "Thank you for the advice. Have I successfully bullied you into taking me on?"
Hermione laughed and extended her hand for Astoria to shake. "You've got my endorsement, but I will of course write to the Board of Directors tonight. They'll need to officially vote on anything I decide, though I do have final say, I prefer this fund to run as democratically as possible."
"Thank you," Astoria murmured and her eyes glistened briefly before she cleared her throat and pressed on. "Now, I've been thinking about the inaugural orientation that's approaching in August and—"
Hermione lost track of time as she sat with Astoria and hashed out a proper schedule of events for the first-ever families to benefit from the fund that would be visiting Hogwarts in a month and a half.
She didn't notice Draco approaching until he playfully drawled, "And what are you ladies gossiping about?"
Hermione scowled up at him. "We are not gossiping."
Draco frowned as he looked over the table now littered with parchment. "Granger are you seriously working at my birthday party?"
"Hush, Draco, we're in the middle of a staff meeting," clipped Astoria. "Fetch Dennis for me, would you? We need to discuss his role in the organization."
Draco raised an eyebrow at her dismissal and did as she bade as petulantly as possible. "Creevey!" he called across the way. "Your cheeky brat of a wife requires your presence!"
Astoria ignored him.
As Dennis joined their impromptu planning session, Hermione was quickly reminded of why she liked him, and how his affable personality would make him a perfect fit for the role she and Astoria envisioned.
"Dennis, which title do you like better, Family Outreach Coordinator or Outreach Liaison?"
"Oh! Well I think it's important to have the word 'family' in the name, yeah?" he threw out and grinned. The cheery and outgoing Dennis had been languishing away in the Ministry at a dead-end job in the Department of Magical Transportation, and he was desperate for a career switch that would allow him to interact with people again as opposed to repairing and securing Floo networks.
Plus, being the younger sibling of another Muggleborn student gave Dennis a unique perspective. Before he'd received is own Hogwarts letter, he was just along for the ride as Colin went through this monumental change. How many other siblings of Muggleborn witches and wizards suddenly found themselves embroiled in this new reality; simultaneously fighting jealousy and wonder at their sibling's newfound abilities?
Though Dennis eventually got his own chance to flourish in the magical world, how many other siblings existed like Harry's Aunt Petunia; bitter and afraid of this new disruption to their family life? Dennis's ultimate goal was to make sure the whole family felt accepted by the magical world, and Hermione marveled at the thought of a future where instead of causing strife, the reveal of the world of magic would inspire closer bonding.
By the end of the evening, they'd settled on the new positions to be created: an administrative assistant specific to Astoria, an admin for the charity as a whole, a volunteer coordinator, and full-time treasurer. For now, Astoria was content to conduct business by owl, or via Floo. She'd also be presenting Hermione with a list of prospective candidates once the Board approved their plan and the job listings posted in the Daily Prophet. As if that weren't enough, the woman had already taken the liberty of thinking about the future physical headquarters.
"I confess before tonight I did some preliminary research and looked into leasing office space in Hogsmeade. We can get a discounted rate as a non-profit organization, and I think we'd want to be headquartered there rather than Diagon, given the proximity to the school."
When their guests had left and Hermione regaled Draco with the momentous turn in the running of her school fund, Draco eyed her with surprise-tinged pride.
"That must have been difficult for you. I know you want to have your hand in everything, but you were going to run yourself ragged, love. I'm glad you've let them help you," he said sincerely.
Sometimes, Hermione mused, ceding of control didn't necessarily need to be a bad thing. With everything that she'd been taking on her shoulders lately, having Astoria and Dennis carry some of the weight would free up some of her time to dedicate to her other passion projects. When was the last time she'd researched freedom for house elves?
And isn't that the lesson she constantly tried to instill in Draco? That it was perfectly all right, and healthy in fact, to need other people?
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July 2009
Normally, Hermione would have made a polite excuse to not attend Padma's bridal robe fitting, but as she was in the wedding party, such tasks were not so easily avoided. To be fair, this was less about Padma and more that attending wedding planning related events with her friend also meant tolerating the less palatable presence of her twin, Parvati.
Parvati had yet to make a snide, passive aggressive comment about Hermione's relationship with Draco, but she knew it would only be a matter of time. The afternoon thus far had actually turned out rather pleasant, given the surprise reveal of Padma's robe designer. Hermione knew Parvati had pulled some strings via her position at Witch Weekly to have the illustrious Anjana Nehru agree to design and fit her sister's two wedding outfits. The young witch was not only a rising star in the fashion world, but had made a name for herself by ensuring the bulk of her pieces were worn by Muggleborn men and women (like herself) or couples of mixed magical heritage.
"Oh, goodness, you're Hermione Granger," gushed the other woman and stuck her hand out to shake.
"I've admired your designs for years," Hermione gushed right back, shaking her hand warmly.
"Oh, that's mind-boggling coming from you, thank you!"
Mrs. Patil broke up the bonding as she cheerfully ushered Anjana into Padma's bedroom to have the bride-to-be try on her ceremony outfit.
"Hermione, I have very little doubt that woman is going to convince you to wear a piece of hers at your next gala with Malfoy," commented Ginny with a grin.
"I'd be honored," Hermione replied immediately. "But something from her is most likely not in my budget, even if it's a few seasons old."
"Hermione, that's not how this works," huffed Parvati, impatiently. "You wouldn't be paying her for the robes. You're famous and she makes money off you merely mentioning to the press that you're wearing her designs. Besides," Parvati inspected her nails, "I'm sure you could put some of that Malfoy gold to good use."
Hermione was saved from addressing Parvati's presumptive rudeness that she'd be willing to frivolously spend Draco's money by the arrival of Padma in her first wedding look. The women ooh and aahed appropriately and Hermione, for one, didn't have to fake it. Padma looked breathtaking in the bejeweled, bright red garment; a combination of wedding saree and witches' robes. Both Mrs. Patil and Anjana held the train and let it flutter delicately to the floor as the other women circled Padma to admire all the intricate detailing and beading.
Hermione beamed at her friend, Ron's future wife, grateful that they'd found each other. Though he whinged day and night to her and Harry about the extravaganza that would be the Patil-Weasley nuptials attended by hundreds of guests in India, Hermione knew deep down he couldn't be more pleased with his choice of bride and the hoopla surrounding the wedding made Ron feel special.
Padma smiled reverently at the robes draping her body and ran her hands down her sides. "I'd love for my future daughter to wear this one day. Or at least use the fabric."
Ginny's eyes widened. "Padma are you saying you're...?"
"Oh gods no!" She laughed. "But no more Contraceptive Charms the night of this wedding. I want to give James some cousins!"
Ginny chuckled. "Don't let Harry hear you talking about babies. He's already angling for a second one so James can have a sibling."
Though Hermione was beyond excited for her friends becoming parents, the talk of children always had her feeling like a passive observer in the conversation.
"You and Draco would have the prettiest babies, Hermione," blurted Padma suddenly.
"Oh!" Hermione flushed, completely caught off guard and more than a little uncomfortable. "Thank you, but we're umm... that's not something... we're not..." she took a steadying breath. "We've not discussed anything like that," she finished lamely.
She knew Padma meant well, meant to compliment her, but there's nothing she loathed more than people commenting on the current or future state of her womb.
"How long have you been together?" asked Parvati and Hermione was surprised by her sudden interest in her relationship. Whenever they were all out in their large group of Hogwarts friends, Parvati seemed more than content to pretend Draco did not exist.
"Since last April, so about a year and four months now."
Parvati raised an eyebrow. "Odd he hasn't broached the whole children subject, don't you think? I'm sure there's some old Malfoy doctrine decreeing the provision of heirs with white-blond hair by a certain age for him."
"Odd that you feel it's your place to broach the subject at all," chimed in Ginny with a frosty glare at Parvati. But the other woman remained unbothered in her blatant nosiness.
"Pureblood men like him don't often casually date for so long. There's usually a betrothal contract by now. Wonder what his mother has to say about that."
Hermione bristled at the way she'd reduced her relationship with Draco to "casual."
"Yes well, we're a somewhat unconventional couple and he's rather uninterested in following those outdated customs," said Hermione evenly.
"I just find it interesting is all," sniffed Parvati. "He seems the type to demand those customs be followed."
"That's enough Parvati," snapped Padma. "Draco's my friend too. Now stop pestering Hermione and help Anjana with the bustle, I'll need your help before the reception."
Ginny shot Hermione a look that quite clearly asked, "Would you like me to hex her for you?" But Hermione only repressed a snort and shook her head. She'd handled worse comments about her relationship with Draco and she knew there'd be plenty more for as long as they were together.
"How's your research paper coming along?" chirped Ginny, changing the subject. "And did Paulo send you any more of that wine?"
The distraction tactic deployed by her friend worked, and Hermione talked enthusiastically about her recent collaborative effort with the celebrated Mermish scholar she'd met in Venice, Paulo Pescaro. Ginny did her the courtesy of listening attentively to the central points of their joint paper based on Hermione's previous presentation building on Paulo's decades of discoveries on the ancient mermaid colonies in the Mediterranean.
It was an extracurricular activity outside of her day job at the Ministry, but to have this published in a peer-reviewed journal could potentially do wonders for Hermione if she ever wanted to secure funding for any future private research. Hermione then rewarded her patient friend by divulging that yes, her kind and insightful co-author had in fact shipped her several bottles of Italian wine from one of his son's vineyards. Ginny promptly invited her and Draco over for dinner the following weekend.
Hermione soldiered through the rest of the afternoon, even delightedly accepting a business card from Anjana with a whispered, "owl me, please, for any formal events on your social calendar," before she Flooed home.
With Astoria and Dennis officially hired and the young married couple off and running with their agreed-upon ideas for her Hogwarts fund, Hermione now had more time on her hands to pursue her varied passion projects, social commitments, and Ministry workload.
She'd intended to respond to Paulo's most recent correspondence, as she was left to her own devices for the evening, but concentration failed to ensnare her. Draco was working tonight; attending the Wasps match against the Falmouth Falcons (his favorite match of the season, as he'd grown up a supporter of the Falcons), and without him or her work to distract her, Hermione couldn't help but dwell on the impertinent conversation with Parvati.
She and Draco didn't owe anyone an explanation for the progression of their relationship; Hermione was secure enough in their affection for each other. But Parvati's harsh view of Draco, while misinformed and a little cruel, unfortunately conjured several questions in Hermione's mind.
Did Draco want to marry her?
Did he want to have a child or children with her?
She remembered well that night in December after the mortifying debacle that was her parents' holiday party.
"Every version of my future includes you. I'm yours in whatever capacity you'll have me."
While yes, that memory of his words caused a happy sigh to leave her lips, what did it actually mean for their future? Would they just continue on as they were, indefinitely? Happy and in love, to be sure, but in separate homes?
She'd once reached this point long ago with Ron, except they'd actually taken the step of moving in together. But every time they'd discussed marriage or children, one of them would demur and suggest punting the discussion to a future date. Hermione would always feel a knot of tension release in her chest whenever they would, once again, successfully avoid speaking seriously about committing to an engagement.
But with Draco...
He'd become the comfort and familiarity that she sought in relationships while maintaining a spark of excitement and passion that kept her craving his presence in her life.
The difference between the Draco she'd befriended at the café and the Draco she currently waited on to arrive back from a long night of work was night and day. He'd stomped (literally) back into her life a closed off, self-loathing man treading water; one who didn't think he deserved love or happiness. Draco had emotionally developed leaps and bounds beyond that melancholic persona over the course of their friendship and subsequent relationship. Earning his trust and ultimately his love and showing him that yes, you can be vulnerable and still be worthy of these good things in life was a privilege.
And he'd had a profound effect on her, too. She'd also been content to glide through life, stalled in her career, languishing in the familiar comfort of old friendships, uninspired to put herself out there without a concrete direction. Draco reminded her of all the ambitions she'd cloaked behind layers of casual acceptance of the world around her. No one was really interested in Mermish runes so why bother? No one would ever support house elf freedom so why bother? A Hogwarts introductory curriculum for Muggleborn children would never be instituted, so why bother?
You should bother, he'd essentially said. You care about this, so either make it happen or put your all into at least attempting to make it happen.
He challenged her ideas, because gods that man loved an argument with her, and because he knew she could rise to the challenge. His unwavering and honest support of her ambitions and ideals, though at times perhaps at odds with his own personal world view, was everything she'd ever imagined in a life partner.
This was all before even mentioning the sex. Good lord, she could write several tomes-worth on how fantastic the sex was with him and it wouldn't be long enough to describe all the ways Draco made her feel adored and empowered in the bedroom.
Hermione closed her eyes and told herself to take a step back, to filter out all the societal expectations on women her age, all the familial expectations from Draco's mother, and all the invasively rude assumptions from everyone else. What did she want?
In her heart of hearts, what did forever look like with Draco?
When Hermione opened her eyes, her fireplace lit up green and the man himself stepped out of the flames. Draco looked tired; his eyes strained from peering through omnioculars for hours on end, but the second he spotted her on the couch his whole face brightened.
"Hello," he approached and pecked her lips. "The Falcons won and I had to pretend to be upset." He gestured her near empty mug of tea. "I could do with some of that, any left?"
Hermione shook her head and moved to get up. "No, I just made one for myself, let me go and—"
But Draco waved her off and went through to the kitchen. "I've got it, love. If I put on a full kettle will you take some more?"
Hermione sank back down into the cushions. "Yes," she replied, dazedly.
When he later returned with a mug of his own and a fresh one for her, he kissed the top of her head and settled down next to her.
"How was Padma's robe fitting?" he asked her.
Hermione grinned and gave him a brief re-telling of her afternoon with the rest of the bridal party all the while a joyous thought ran in a continuous stream through her mind.
I think forever could look like this.
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A/N: Thanks for reading! Find me on tumblr: @heyjude19-writing.