Two Years Later

Spring came early that year, and Hermione relaxed on the grass in the Malfoy Manor graveyard. Lucius had been buried in the far corner, beneath a willow tree. There was space around him for his wife and children, which was why Narcissa had picked that particular spot.

"I got my official pardon last Friday," She said to the tombstone. "Kingsley delivered it himself to Mother, I think he's biding his time before he courts her." She said the last with a snort, and plucked a blade of grass from beside her.

"I can officially reintegrate with society," she twirled the grass between her fingers. "Bellatrix is pretending to be pleased, but I think she's secretly jealous." Hermione rolled over, ignoring the fact that her yellow robes might be stained. "She says she's lucky to have received lifelong house-arrest instead of prison-" she lowered her voice in imitation of Kingsley's, "as an official gesture of thanks from the Ministry." She laughed and threw the grass down. "We're going to expand Thistledown so that it includes a small woodland for Bellatrix to run in. And she's agreed to work with the Auror training program to help educate them on the finer mechanisms of combat magic. She's been working with a construction crew to add a new level with a training room so that they can come to the house."

She sighed, and reached up to clear away some of the dirt on the tombstone, "Mother's doing better," she said. "She's been given an Order of Merlin, First Class, for her involvement with the Patroni. Apparently they had a smuggling operation that saved more than two thousand Muggleborns. They all went to Brittany." She smiled, "She's accepted a teaching position at Hogwarts. She'll teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. It's good for her, I think," she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "She hasn't been back to the Manor since the wedding, so she spends all her time at Forest Cottage or with us or Aunt Andy. I think she could use the distraction. Poor Coram definitely could." She laughed, "He's been a good sport about letting her obsess over his studies and such. He's shaping up to be a good wizard, I think you'd be proud."

The sun poked through the clouds, and warmed her skin. She held her hand up and watched her wedding ring sparkle in the sun. "Draco made it back for the wedding," she said, "He walked me down the aisle. He's been busy travelling the world. Right now he's in Africa, he's on the hunt to find miniature dragons. Charlie Weasley put him up to it, they've been getting close since Draco stayed with him last year." She smiled fondly, "Mother is horrified. I think she was secretly hoping that he and Harry would make a go of it."

The smile faded, and Hermione sighed. "I wish you were here. Kingsley found me a position in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I started on Monday." She narrowed her eyes. "They call me Murderess Malfoy when they think I'm not listening, and no one has invited me to their weekly lunch date," she tore up another handful of grass, and let it filter through her fingers. "Mother says to ignore them, and Bellatrix thinks I should hex them to make them afraid of me." She looked sideways at the tombstone, "You'd understand."

She closed her eyes, and for a moment the ache in her chest was just as painful as it had been in the weeks after her father died. "I miss you, Papa." She choked.

There was no answer. He would never answer her again.

Blinking, Hermione forced a smile. "I have to go. I promised Bella I wouldn't wallow." She waved her wand, and conjured a wreath of white roses. It covered most of the tombstone, but allowed the words, Lucius Malfoy, Beloved father and husband, to show.

Malfoy Manor was quiet and dark. Hermione's skin prickled uncomfortably as she walked through the empty corridors. The elves had all gone to live at the Forest Cottage with her mother. The furniture was covered in white drapes, and her footsteps echoed.

Her father had left it equally to her and Draco, but neither of them could stand being in their old home. Draco had been adamant that she inherit all of it. "I couldn't ever live there," he had said.

Truth be told, neither could Hermione. Perhaps one day her children would make use of it. She certainly hoped so, she couldn't bear to have it fall into disrepair. Nor could she sell it. The Manor stood as a memorial to what the Malfoy family had been in its prime.

She found the library, and quickly found the books her mother had asked her to fetch. A few others caught her eye, and she slid them into her bag to house in the Thistledown library. Then her eye caught on the family journals.

It was a long shelf full of the private diaries of all the Lord and Lady Malfoys, spanning back to the Norman Conquest. Hermione ran her fingers over the spine of the most recent journal, and her fingers traced the silver embossed L.M.

For a moment, she hesitated. Technically, the journals should have gone to Draco. But Draco had made it abundantly clear in the last few years that he wanted nothing to do with the Malfoy legacy.

Before she could deliberate further, Hermione shrunk the lot of them, and directed them into her bag. I am Heir Argent, she reasoned. And she had insisted that Bellatrix take the Malfoy name in order to ensure that the family magic stayed active.

Draco had been dropping hints that he would rather be a Weasley, after all.

Hermione stopped in her father's study before she left, and took his watch from the desk. Carefully, she slid it into her pocket. It was cold and heavy against her hip.

Then, feeling as if she was leaving a tomb, she returned to the fresh air. Vercingetorix was in his old stall, still wearing his tack, and she led him from the stable.

"Just one stop before we go home," Hermione told the pegasus. She cast a quick warming spell (the air was much colder up there) and held on tightly as Vercingetorix took off.

They touched down on the soft soil near the Forest Cottage, and Hermione leapt from his back. "Thank you," she called to the elf who came to tend the pegasus.

It had been so long since she had been to Forest Cottage. Nearly two years of house arrest made leaving the house seem like an impossible task. Kingsley had been apologetic, but he explained that the other, more notorious Death Eaters needed to have their trials first.

"The sooner we get them into Azkaban, the better."

Most of the inner circle and the worst of the snatchers had been rounded up. Harry was leading a team that aimed to catch the remaining members. Goyle Senior was rumored to have fled to the forests of Finland, and Zabini Senor had been spotted in Mexico. Both of Terence's uncles were caught a few months earlier, but Hermione was secretly pleased that Terence was still missing.

She had received mysterious gifts on her birthdays that she suspected came from him. They had been signed "T". Bellatrix had sniffed at the expensive jewelry, but Hermione remembered how important he had been to her in the loneliest days of her life, and she treasured the gifts.

"Mother!" She called, pushing her way into the cottage.

"Hermione!" Her mother's voice called from inside the living room. "Come in, darling, we were just talking to you."

Hermione followed her voice, and grinned when she saw a second figure dressed in black. "Uncle Sev!" She launched herself at the man and kissed his cheek.

"What have I told you about unnecessary displays of affection?" Severus growled, but he patted her gently on the back. He had been one of the handful of people besides her mother to visit her during her house arrest. They had a weekly luncheon on Saturdays to discuss books. "I see they let you out early today."

"I finished all the work they assigned to me," she didn't add that they seemed to assign her more work than the other man in her position, "So my supervisor told me to leave. Did you close the shop early?"

"I hired a second assistant," her uncle sniffed.

"Darling, will you stay for dinner?" Her mother set her teacup down on the coffee table. "Severus is staying."

"I can't," Hermione apologized. "Bellatrix is making dinner at home to celebrate the end of my first week." She shifted from foot to foot, "I just came by to drop off the books."

"The books!" Her mother stood up at once, "We can put them in my study."

Hermione gave her uncle a grin, and followed her mother up the stairs.

Narcissa Malfoy was as beautiful as ever. She had been featured many times in the Prophet in the last two years. The Ministry liked to show her as an example of how Pureblooded society could integrate and adapt to the changing societal climate. Her mother helped bring back the muggleborns who fled during the war, and spent much of her time volunteering to help the families who suffered. After Lucius died, she took to wearing black robes exclusively. It gave her an elegant haunted look that Rita Skeeter applauded.

Hermione worried about her mother. She threaded her arm through Narcissa's as they entered the study. "You will come over for brunch on Sunday, won't you?"

Narcissa patted her hand, "Of course I will." She stepped away, and cleared off the desk, "Minerva wants to go over my lesson plans for the first years next week. If she approves, I'll start immediately at the end of the month."

Hermione set her bag on the desk, and began unloading the books her mother requested. "When did you become so close with McGonagall?"

Her mother gave her a look, "Minerva and I have spent quite a bit of time together." She began stacking the books into three separate towers. "You know… she asks after you frequently. It wouldn't hurt you to send her a letter."

Hermione looked down, and picked up a crimson quill. She twirled it in her hands. "I wouldn't know what to say."

"Oh, Hermione," her mother sighed. "No one blames you, darling. We're all so proud of you."

Hermione thought of her coworkers, "Not everyone."

Her mother stepped forward, and put her hands on both of Hermione's shoulders. "This will pass, Hermione. In a few years something else will happen and our world will fill the gossip rags with that instead. People will stop thinking about who you were during the war, and they'll start judging you by who you really are." She stepped closer, and wrapped her arms around Hermione, "This will pass, my darling."

Her mother was warm, and Hermione closed her eyes. The smell of orange blossoms was fainter now, almost buried in the smell of books and parchment. But it was still there. She squeezed her mother, and sighed. "I wish he was here."

Her mother inhaled sharply, and Hermione instantly wished she hadn't said anything.

"I wish he were here too," Narcissa said finally. "I know he'd be proud of you." She ran her hand over Hermione's curls, "I know I am."

Hermione felt a thrill of pleasure at the words, and pulled back. "I'm only an administrative assistant," she shrugged.

Her mother smirked, "But you're also my daughter," she reminded Hermione, "And one day they'll all forget. And then you'll rise."

Hermione grinned at her.

The clock chimed, and Hermione jumped. "I have to go home," she said reluctantly. "Bella's-"

"Oh, she's told me all about her adventures in culinary arts," Narcissa said. She leaned forward and kissed Hermione's cheek. "I love you darling, fly safely."

Her mother walked her out, and her uncle called a quick goodbye.

Vercingetorix whinied as soon as they touched down in the back garden of Thistledown. A stable elf appeared immediately to take Vercingetorix, and Hermione gave the pegasus a long scratch before he was lead to the small stable in the back corner.

Turnip met her at the door, and she stepped out of her shoes before petting him. The wubble had returned to his normal sky blue color. He wasn't quite as bright as he had been before the war, and his ears were permanently black now, but he wagged his tail and rolled over to beg for belly rubs.

"Who's a good boy?" Hermione asked, bending to kiss his nose. Turnip licked her chin as thanks.

A clanging sound got her attention, and Hermione rose and made her way to the kitchen. When she got to the doorway she smothered a laugh.

Bellatrix was surrounded by pots with varying degrees of burnt food stuck to them. She stirred something furiously, banging the pot up and down every other stir. Winky and Dobby sat on the counter nearest to her, the former offering bits of advice, the latter looking thoroughly pleased.

"Gentle stirs, madam," said Winky, who looked as if she were tasked with soothing a wild animal. "Gentle!"

Dobby, who had asked for a position as their house elf after the war, let out a cackle and said, "Mistress Bellatrix is showing it who's boss!" He had slowly taken on the role of Bellatrix's personal elf, the way Winky tended to Hermione, and Hermione was never quite sure that introducing Dobby to Bellatrix was a good idea. They seemed to feed off of each other.

"Dobby," Bellatrix called over the sound of the pot banging into the stove, "get me the pepper flakes!"

"Maybe madam should-" Winky began, but Dobby was already rushing across the counter with a basket of spice canisters.

"Red pepper flakes for Mistress," he crowed, shaking a healthy amount over the kitchen as he dug out the canister and passed it to Bellatrix.

Bellatrix stirred a generous amount in, and then sought out the spoon on the counter next to her. The floor was littered with used spoons, and Hermione wondered how many dishes had to die before Bellatrix settled on this one.

Bellatrix tasted whatever she was making, and let out a victorious, "Ha!" She passed the spoon to Dobby, "Hermione'll like that!"

Dobby nodded so quickly that his ears flopped. "Miss Hermione will love it! Dobby loves it!"

At that moment, Hermione chose to make herself known. "I'm sure I will."

The elves squeaked, and Bellatrix set the pot down. A moment later she had crossed the room, and kissed Hermione's cheek. "Is it after five already?" She smelled like chlorine from the pool they had put in a year ago.

Nodding, Hermione sighed. "And I have a whole weekend before I have to see anyone at the Ministry again."

Bellatrix frowned, and cupped Hermione's cheeks in her hand. "Say the word and I will hunt them down and make them wish they were nicer to you."

Hermione wrapped an arm around Bellatrix's waist. "As lovely as that sounds, I don't really want to go through another trial."

"Why not? The first one was exciting." Bellatrix pointed out. She turned back to their oven and pulled out something that looked like a charred brick covered in dried cranberries.

"Much better!" Dobby said, clapping.

Winky and Hermione exchanged a glance, and the elf slid down from the counter. "Winky will make a cake," she chirped, "to celebrate Mistress' first week of work!"

Luckily for Hermione's stomach, Bellatrix agreed to this. She threw her apron down among the spoons, and said to Dobby, "You'll serve, won't you Dobs?" The elf said yes.

Hermione watched her wife while they ate in the kitchen nook. Bellatrix spoke animatedly about the progress on the training room, and about how Harry himself had approved of the design.

"You missed him this morning," Bellatrix said, "He stopped by for the monthly inspection. You'll be happy to know that they did not find the dark artifacts-"

"Bella!" Hermione groaned. "Tell me you didn't say that to Harry!"

"He found it funny!" Bellatrix defended. "And, he promised to get me a copy of Rita Skeeter's new book. It's about how she survived the war as a spy for the Order! Harry says it's trash, but-" she broke off, and her brow furrowed. "Dove, what's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Bella… are you happy?"

"Of course I'm happy," Bellatrix still looked confused. She speared a charred piece of broccoli on her fork, and waved it about in the air, "Why?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "It's just… this isn't the life we envisioned for ourselves. Sometimes I wonder if we should have chosen the exile instead." She pushed the gloppy sauce around on her plate. "I don't want you to resent me."

Bellatrix gave her a quizzical look, and slowly put her fork down. "I could never resent you, Doveling. If I remember correctly, it was my choice to stay in Britain." She reached out and took Hermione's hand, "and we are living the life we dreamed of. You're in the Ministry, I'm going to help train the next generation of aurors-" she made a face, "alright, they're not exactly going to be the elite warriors of Britain, but Harry says that they try very hard to be!" She smiled, and squeezed Hermione's hand, "And, most importantly, we have each other. I could endure anything as long as I have you at my side."

Hermione felt better with Bellatrix's hand on her own. "And you don't mind that we can't leave Thistledown?"

Bellatrix's eyes lit up, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Technically, I'm not allowed to leave my property in Edinburgh." She leaned forward, "What do you say to buying the whole street?"

"The whole street!?" Hermione exclaimed. Dobby, who had come to check on their drinks, nodded his head excitedly and opened his mouth to say something. Winky popped out of the kitchen just in time and dragged him back inside the other room.

Bellatrix grinned at the elves, and turned back to Hermione. "It's not a very big street, Hermione. Most of the building owners are interested in selling-"

"Bella! When did you learn this?"

Bellatrix ignored her, "We could expand the street just a little, and build a sort of Diagon Alley of the North. I thought we could have a primary school for the witches and wizards who aren't lucky enough to have tutors," she ignored Hermione's eye roll, "and a bookshop, and at least two pubs, perhaps a coffeehouse." She got a faraway look in her eye, "and a park. A proper one. Then I can have a tiny slice of society."

The last part was said softly, but Hermione heard the ache in it.

"Oh, Bella."

"I wouldn't trade it for a life in exile," Bellatrix said quickly, "and it's much better than Azkaban. I have you, don't I?"

"Yes," Hermione said fiercely. "You have me."

They found a lighter topic for the rest of dinner, and made their way to the library.

"I'm glad it's the weekend," Bellatrix said as they sat on the leather couch. She laid down so that her head rested in Hermione's lap. "You've been gone too long." She waved her wand and lit a fire, and the toasty smell of burning wood surrounded them.

"Bella," Hermione giggled, "I've been home every night." She combed her fingers through Bellatrix's curls, and relaxed against the pillows.

"I still missed you," Bellatrix said stubbornly. She stifled a yawn. "I need a distraction. We should ask Hagrid if he has anymore of those baby creatures lying around."

"Not again," Hermione groaned, thinking of the baby nifflers they had nursed a few months earlier. Hagrid was a surprise visitor one night, and had sheepishly explained that he needed someone who was home all the time to care for the niffler kits.

"Then maybe we need a little witch or wizard running around," Bellatrix said with a gleam in her eye.

Hermione felt her pulse quicken at the idea, and Bellatrix's smirk grew.

"Cissy would love it," She purred, pushing herself up so that her face was only a few inches from Hermione's, "And Teddy is still young enough that the two could become friends."

"I need more sleep before we make that decision," Hermione warned. She was too exhausted to change their lives.

Bellatrix leaned forward, "We'll talk about it tomorrow then," she promised, kissing Hermione.

The fire was warm on her face, the pillows were soft, and Bellatrix was a comfortable weight across her side. Slowly, Hermione's eyes drifted shut.

"You are perfect, you know," Bellatrix's internal voice matched her external one these days.

Hermione opened her eyes wide enough to regard Bellatrix with amusement. That's not what you said when we were fighting over what trees to put in the garden last week.

"That was different. You know that fir trees are the best. Anyway, as I was saying, I'm glad we are who we are and where we are. I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm glad that we were accidentally bonded, and I'm glad Dumbledore chose you. I'm glad all of it happened."

Hermione reached down to stroke Bellatrix's cheek, "I'm glad too, Bella," she murmured. "I couldn't imagine my life without you."

Bellatrix turned her head, and kissed Hermione's palm. "And you never will, Doveling. I'm yours, and you are mine, forever."

Hermione felt Bellatrix's love surround her, and felt the familiar thrum seep into her bones, pulling her back into sleepiness. "Forever, my love." she whispered.

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story! I hope you enjoyed it. I know that I could not have made it this far without your reviews and your follows/favorites. I'm so, so grateful to you.

Please let me know what you thought. My brother's final verdict was, "I liked Time Heals All Wounds better." I know the epilogue wasn't nearly as long or as vivid as I would have liked, but if I included everything I wanted to include this story would likely have never been finished.

Anyway, love to you all! Thank you again!