Note: So, this is it - the last part of the story. I had a great time writing it, and I hope you'll have a great time reading it. As to the ending of last chapter, many people were confused by the spell. If you weren't or don't want an explanation, feel free to skip the rest of the note. Anyway, the spell was a dark one, illegal and complicated, thus Draco needing Narcissa's help to cast it. The spell itself doesn't really matter, just the fact that they were ready to use it to find Hermione, even if it meant an Azkaban sentence for them.

-----

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter going thrice. Sold!

-----

That Fateful Night, Part 3 of 3

The first thing Hermione felt upon waking up was warmth. But it was a different kind of warmth than the sun or a blanket. It was, in fact, someone's arms around her. She mentally frowned, thinking herself dreaming, before the previous events came back to her, and she snuggled closer.

"Mummy," she whispered, a sleepy smile on her face.

"She's fine," a familiar voice told her, and Hermione had almost fallen back asleep when she realized it was definitely not Narcissa's.

But it was definitely familiar, and recognition brought tears into her eyes once again. Oh, how she didn't want to cry anymore. But she did, and it robbed her of the option of feigning sleep.

"Shush, don't cry. Mother is having my head when she sees it."

"Where is she?" Hermione asked, relishing these few more moments before being pushed away.

"She's with her Healer to see whether she is fit to go home today," he replied, but didn't push her away like she had expected.

"Is it safe to release her so soon?" Hermione exclaimed, raising her head and even opening her eyes in worry. For all her concern for Narcissa, she still couldn't help noticing the fact that she was sitting on his lap on the bed, his arms around her waist and hers resting on his shoulders. She decided to keep the position, since it was warm and pleasant and something she had dreamed about for the last two weeks.

"If it's not, they won't let her."

"But the Prophetsaid her condition was critical..."

"The Prophet has said a lot of things lately, and only a few have been true," he snorted.

"I wouldn't know," she whispered sadly. "That was the first issue I read since..."

She couldn't bring herself to finish, and she didn't have to. The lime green curtains at the window were drawn shut but they fluttered in a silent breeze as she kept staring at them, unable to look him in the eye.

"I missed you," Hermione suddenly stated, still staring at the curtains, her tears flowing freely.

He didn't return the statement, but at least he said something, and she didn't have to bear the repressing silence around them.

"Where were you?"

"Crete."

"Our house in Crete?" he asked in surprise similar to Narcissa's.

"Your house in Crete," she confirmed.

"Not a very good hiding place, is it?"

"On the contrary. You never found me."

Draco had to agree to that, and couldn't help thinking of the irony of the situation, had they used the dark spell to locate her, and found her from their very own house. Luckily for them, though, she had returned on her own before they had the chance to perform it.

"You?" she inquired, to stop the silence from falling upon them once again.

"Switzerland."

She nodded, then frowned as an idea suddenly hit her.

"Not the cabin in the Alps?"

"The very same."

"But you hate it there!" Hermione exclaimed, in her surprise forgetting the reason of her intent stare at the curtains and turning her face towards him.

If she hadn't been crying already, the look in his eyes would have definitely made her, as well as the fact that he hid his feelings so quickly that she started to doubt what she had witnessed. She could also feel him tense, and knowing what was to come next, she prevented his actions by leaping off him, and practically running to the window, where she pulled away one of the lime green curtains giving herself something better to pretend to be looking at.

Stupid, she scolded herself, thinking that if only she hadn't turned her head, she would still be sitting on his lap with his arms around her, instead of standing by the window and shivering not because of the cool breeze but for her loss.

"You'll catch a cold there," he spoke, obviously noticing her shiver.

"Why were you in the Alps?" she questioned, not stepping away from the window. "You hate it there."

She thought she could guess his answer, she thought he had picked the place exactly because everyone knew he didn't like it there, she thought he would tell her it was a good hiding place.

She thought wrong.

"But you love it there," he said instead, almost too quietly for her to catch. But she heard it, and felt herself breaking once again.

"Just like you love Crete," she forced herself to answer, as her voice refused to co-operate, her knees trembled, and the edges of her vision darkened.

"Hermione!" someone cried. "What are you doing at the window! You'll catch a cold. Look at you, you are trembling! And your face is white as snow! Draco, I told you to look after her!"

Hermione didn't know whether it was Narcissa or her son who helped her to the bed, and forced her to sit down on it. But when she recovered from her fatigue, it was Narcissa fussing around her, and Draco standing a few steps away, his gaze on the two of them.

It took her a while to convince Narcissa that she was all right, and that she didn't need to see a Healer, and that everything was fine, and that it would be best for Narcissa to calm down, since everything was fine.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" she exclaimed. "You would have hit the floor had I not returned in time."

"I doubt it."

"I don't. You were trembling, dear, and cold and pale and..."

"You misunderstood me," Hermione stopped her, staring at the floor, "I might have fainted, I admit, but that's because I've had a long day. Or more like many long days. But I wouldn't have hit the floor."

Narcissa started to protest, but before she managed to utter a word, the truth hit her, and she fell silent. No one said a word for a while, and Hermione wondered what had made her say this in the first place, and whether it was a bad thing that she had. At least Narcissa seemed to have calmed down, and that was good, but she didn't know her expression, or her son's, and she was more than a little reluctant to raise her eyes and look. Last time such action had been catastrophic.

"Well," Narcissa spoke at last. "If you are certain that you are all right, we should go home. I was released, and it's a better place for you to rest. And that's what you're going to do, even if I have to lock you in your room."

Hermione forced a small smile at that and nodded, then stood up and gave Narcissa a brief hug.

"Let's go then," she said, refusing to look at Draco. She was still fighting her wish to only take a small peek at him when they were walking first down the hallway and then descending the stairs, Narcissa having placed herself between the two of them, probably to slip away at the most convenient of moments. But before that moment arrived, something else happened, something that also managed to save Hermione from her inner struggle.

Suddenly there was a flash of light before them, and when Hermione regained her vision, she keenly wished she hadn't because there in front of them was standing one of the last people she wanted to see.

"Miss Granger, so nice to have you back. It is still Miss Granger, isn't it? I'm truly sorry about what happened at your wedding, but now that we're already talking about it, perhaps you could lighten us about it? The Wizarding world is dying to know the truth, and since we haven't been able to find you for two weeks, all we had to satisfy our curiosity were a few theories, some of them better, others not so good. But now that you are finally here, perhaps you can point out the correct one? Let me guess, you are secretly married to Ronald Weasley? Yes, that's what we thought, poor Miss Abbott, you really crushed her hopes. Or perhaps you lied yourself pregnant to make the marriage happen in the first place, and now the truth came out? Or perhaps you really are pregnant, only from the wrong man? Or perhaps..."

"Or perhaps this is none of your business," Hermione growled, "And if you don't leave us alone, I will hex you, Skeeter."

"Ooh, so violent, are we?" Rita grinned maliciously. "That can only mean one thing – I must be close to the truth. So whose baby is it really, tell me, Miss Granger? Colin Creevey's, isn't it? Isn't it?"

Hermione, already having drawn her wand, suddenly stopped, and turned her face towards the woman, full in shock.

"Aha!" Rita Skeeter exclaimed. "Thought we wouldn't figure it out, didn't you? Well, we are smarter than you might think, and no secret will escape our expert eyes and ears."

Hermione stared at her for a moment longer, then suddenly burst out laughing. Rita looked most insulted.

"Colin Creevey," she gasped at last, breathless from the laughter. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've heard in a long time. And yet I have to thank you for that, Miss Skeeter. I was a bit reluctant to face the media after my two-week absence, and I was afraid I might say too much under the pressure, but now as I see you are all just as silly and ridiculous as you have always been, I feel rather invigorated by the knowledge that no sane person will ever believe a word of your articles. Have a good day, Miss Skeeter."

They had left the speechless woman behind them, but as Rita Skeeter was still Rita Skeeter, she didn't let herself be silenced for long, and after a moment she had caught up with them again, shooting now all three with questions and the most probable answers to them. Hermione thought she might die of laughter at the idea of Draco having a secret relationship with Ron, and she was still giggling over that as they stepped out of the fireplace at the Malfoy Manor.

"It's not that funny," he growled, watching her lean on a table to keep her balance.

"Yes, it is," she argued, and burst into a new fit of laughter.

"Sorry," she said, once she had managed to calm down. "It's just that I haven't laughed for a while now, and it feels great."

Narcissa looked horrified at that, but she chose not to comment or cause another fuss about it, thinking she had a better solution for all of them.

"I think you should have your rest now, darling," she spoke kindly. "Let me take you to your room."

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, surprised at the vehemence of her own voice. "I mean, not yet. I have some business to take care of."

And without another word of explanation she walked back to the hearth, took a handful of Floo powder, and would have left just like that, had Narcissa not stopped her.

"Where are you going?" she cried, a small dose of hysteria back in her voice.

"I have to see Harry and Ron. I promised to tell them everything," she said.

"You don't have to," Narcissa replied, a bit calmer now. "They already know."

"What?" Hermione wheeled around to face her. "They know? But how?"

"You are forgetting, Hermione," Draco spoke up serenely, "that you were not the only one who knew the truth."

"Oh."

Then, after a long pause, she tried again, her voice timid and fearful,

"What did they say?"

"They were all on your side, dear," Narcissa reassured her with a kind smile. "Ginny even screamed in your defense, so loud that they were thrown out of the room."

"Oh," she repeated, although now obviously relieved. "Well, I'll just go and let them see that I'm alive and all right."

"You should," Narcissa agreed, trying a different tactics. "But not right now. We will owl them with the good news, and you will visit them right after your little nap. When you are looking fresh and invigorated. They might faint of shock seeing you like this."

Hermione looked down upon her appearance and smirked,

"That bad, huh?"

"Dreadful," Draco commented dryly, and she smiled at his teasing.

And even though half of her mind forced her to action right away, Hermione let herself be persuaded this time, and allowed Narcissa to lead her to her room.

---

It was always wise to listen to your mother, Hermione realized upon waking. She had fallen asleep exhausted and miserable, but waken up with new strength, new determination, and most important of all, with a new idea. She knew what she had to do, and she was going to do it.

First, of course, she was going to take a nice long shower, and then make herself presentable. So that her friends wouldn't faint of shock at her dreadful appearance.

Once that part of the mission was complete, and she didn't feel like screaming when looking into the mirror, Hermione left for the parlor's fireplace. She could have opened the Floo connection in her own room, but wanted to tell Narcissa about her leaving first, so that she would not go hysterical at discovering her gone.

She didn't find Narcissa, but Draco was sitting in front of the fireplace, looking like he had been ordered there to watch it should she attempt to leave unnoticed. Which, despite sounding very much like a thing his mother would do, probably wasn't the case, for if she wanted to go, she could have easily Apparated from the hallway.

"I'm going now," she informed him calmly, walking towards the hearth without sparing him a glance. But once she had retrieved the powder and was ready to go, she did turn around to face him.

Perhaps it was the casual aura around him or her own rest, but for the first time since the revelation of her secret, she didn't start crying when looking at him. She did feel a jolt of pain pierce her heart, but now she could control her emotions and stop her tears. Perhaps it was because of her plan, and the hope it gave her.

"How do I look?" she inquired, tilting her head to the right, and smirking slyly. "Still dreadful? Inspiring people to faint of shock at seeing me?"

She could read his answer from his look, but she was curious to hear it, as well.

"Beautiful," he said simply, but with meaning. "Are you coming back?"

"In a couple of hours," Hermione replied, gave him a small wave, and stepped into the flames.

It took her two seconds to realize that he hadn't asked her when she was coming back.

---

"Hermione!"

"Harry!"

"Hermione!"

"Ginny!"

"Hermione!"

"Ron!"

"You can let go of me now," Hermione told them after a while. "I'm sure I don't really need to breathe, but you're crushing me as well."

In another moment her friends complied, and she was able to breathe again, and look around at the three relieved faces around her.

"Where's Hannah?"

"Doing something or other with Susan," Ron told her. "But, Hermione! You are here! You are well! You are unhurt! How are you doing?"

"I'm here, well, and unhurt, as you already observed," she smiled. "I'm fine, really. No need to worry about me. How are you doing?"

"Worrying about you most of the time," Ginny replied.

"No need for that any longer," she declared, perching herself on the edge of table, and looking from one friendly face to another. Friendly faces that were still full of concern and doubting her words.

"Hermione," Harry spoke at last. "Malfoy told us what happened."

"Really?" Hermione looked up, surprised. "I thought it was Narcissa."

"Erm, no," he said and paused, looking lost at what to say next.

"Anyway," Ginny continued, "we know it all. Or at least we know the main point. Not the details. You can tell us that if you want. But you don't have to if you would rather not. Your call, really. But we support you. We won't judge you, or anything, if that's what you're afraid of."

"Thanks," Hermione smiled, and hugged the other girl. "And I will tell you everything you want to know."

She did, and upon finding out why she had been in such a terrible need of money that fateful night, all three broke out with indignant cries of why she hadn't asked their help, but Hermione managed to calm them down eventually. Fortunately for her, they were so happy and relieved at her being fine and back, that they were ready to forgive her almost anything.

After talking about her three friends' doings during the last two weeks, and a humorous account of the chaos Hermione had left behind, Ginny finally dared to come to the more serious topic.

"So, what now, Hermione?" she started with a question vague enough, but its true meaning was clear to everybody.

"Now I'm going to be bombarded with tons of questions from everybody, chased by Skeeter and every other reporter in the country, and if I'm lucky enough, someone else will do something rather scandalous in the future, and they will forget all about me. Speaking of that, Ron, when are you finally going to propose to Hannah?"

Ron's ears turned crimson and he muttered something incomprehensible under his breath, but the other two, especially Ginny, were not going to let her go that easily.

"Yes, I don't envy you for that. But what I meant was..."

"I know what you meant," Hermione interrupted, turning solemn. "I don't know. There's not much I can do. Well, there is this one idea that I'm going to execute, but that's more like making amends than... I don't know. We'll see."

Ginny opened her mouth to say something else, but her friend's look was so final that she decided to drop that subject for now.

Instead they chatted some more about trivial and light-hearted things, teased Ron a bit about his girlfriend, and then Hermione announced it was her time to leave, promising to visit them all very soon again, and do something fun together. Like hunt down Rita Skeeter, Ron had suggested, in serious dislike of one of her brilliant theories. Hermione was sure she knew which one, and they laughed, or in Ron's case, cursed and blushed, over it for a while longer.

---

"When did she say she would return?" Narcissa demanded for the seventh time. In last two minutes.

"In a couple of hours," Draco answered with a sigh, watching his mother walking up and down the living-room carpet, ranting about his stupidity at letting her leave just like that.

"She went to see Potter and Weasley. You can call on them if you think she is not there."

"Of course not!" Narcissa exclaimed angrily. "I'm not going to do that. But I would never be in such a situation if you hadn't let her go in the first place."

"What was I to do? Stupefy her?" he retorted, growing tired of arguing with his mother, who was not listening to anything he said.

"You should have asked her!"

"And you think it would have helped?"

"Of course it would have," Narcissa stated. "Of course she would have stayed had you asked her to."

Draco decided to step out of this quarrel right now, partly because he was tired of it, and partly because she was right. And partly because he was afraid she might have been right about everything else as well, and he had made a mistake letting her leave like that. They had already managed to lose her once, and he didn't want it to repeat.

"Draco! Say something!"

"I'm sure she will be back any..." he started, when the flames turned green, and a second later Hermione stepped out of them.

"Honey!" Narcissa exclaimed happily, while her son finished his sentence,

"... moment now."

Hermione smiled, but stepped away when Narcissa tried to hug her.

"What's wrong, darling?"

"Nothing," she replied, still smiling. "I brought you something."

"What is it?" Narcissa inquired, reaching for the bag Hermione was holding out for her.

"That's three thousand Galleons," she answered simply.

With a gasp Narcissa sharply drew her hand back, as if burnt.

"Take it," Hermione insisted. "I told you I was going to pay it back. And now I am."

"And I told you that you didn't need to," the other woman declared. "You are one of the family, and money has no business here."

"It has nothing to do with family," Hermione stated with resolution. "It has nothing to do with business, or even money. It's all about me promising to pay it back, and now living up to my word. Because I do keep my promises."

"And I told you," Narcissa answered with equal determination, "that you don't have to. Those were my words, and I'm not going to take them back."

The two women glared at each other, both unyielding in their decisions, and waiting for the other to give up. But neither was willing to compromise, and without interference they might have continued staring at each other till the end of time, or at least for the rest of their lives.

"Take the money, Mother."

Reluctantly, Narcissa obeyed. Although in truth her unwillingness to yield was more of an act than her real feeling. Because there had been only one reason, other than her characteristic defiance, to object to it in the first place, and that was to gauge Draco's reaction. Now that she had got her wish, she took the offered money.

"It's ridiculous, though," she couldn't help but comment, "to take money from one account just to put it back to the same."

"You're right," Hermione agreed, still tense from the exchange, "it would be ridiculous. That's why I drew it from my own account."

Narcissa frowned at that.

"But you don't have that anymore. You closed it yourself last month, after transmitting all your money to our family account."

Hermione sent her another glare. She was quite aware that she no more had a bank account other than the one she shared with Narcissa and her son, but she had hoped to get away without that explanation. Now, however, it seemed she wouldn't be that lucky, and judging by the expression on the other woman's face, she had no other choice but to tell the truth.

"Fine," she gritted her teeth. "I sold my Hogwarts, A History. Happy?"

"But you loved that book!" Narcissa exclaimed. "You told me it was your most precious possession because you always kept it, that it reminded you of the happiest times of your life, and helped you survive the worst. You said it was priceless to you, and you would never part from it."

"Are you trying to say that someone paid you three thousand Galleons for some old book?" Draco asked incredulously.

At some other times he would have got a nice juicy piece of her mind, plus an indignant slap, for calling her most precious possession 'some old book'. Now Hermione only felt relief for an excuse to ignore Narcissa's exclamation.

"Unbelievable, isn't it?" she gave a sly smile. "But if you find the right buyer, anything is possible. When we were away on our Horcrux hunt, Harry used the book for writing down a few notes, doodles, and some strategies. I was a bit angry with him at the time, but thanks to this Harry Potter's Official Fanclub was ready to pay me almost anything for it. Funny how things work out, isn't it?"

"But you loved that book!" Narcissa was not to be ignored.

"Potter has an official fanclub?" Draco sounded shocked and repulsed.

"I know," Hermione nodded knowingly. "You should have seen Harry's face when he heard about it. He looked like a Christmas decoration – turning from white to green to red to white again."

Draco couldn't help but smirk at that, but his mother couldn't have cared less about the hue of Harry's skin at receiving those news.

"But you loved that book!" she shouted again.

"It was just a book," Hermione replied, looking around the room nervously, avoiding both gazes directed at her.

"But all your memories, and reminders of good times, and..."

"And I still have those memories safe in my head. As to good times, I hope there are still those to come."

"But your parents gave it to you!" Narcissa turned to her last resort of an argument, although as soon as she had said it, she wished to take it back. There were some things they rather didn't talk about, and Hermione's parents happened to be one of them. This was a topic better left alone, since it caused pain to both parties. Because there was one thing connecting Narcissa and Draco to the murder of Hermione's parents. Namely, Lucius Malfoy.

Presently, Hermione gave Narcissa a long look, but she knew better than to raise another ghost of the past. She had never blamed either of them for the death of her parents, at least, not after their truce, but she suspected they had both known and approved of it at that time. Yet past was past, and they had both changed, and nothing good would come of pondering too long over something that had happened long ago, in another world at another time, as it sometimes seemed.

"I don't need some old book to remember my parents. They are always going to be with me, in my thoughts and heart. But as cliché as it may sound, I thought it was time to let go of the past for real, to put the war and its terrors behind me, and move on to a new era, full of peace and hope and happiness. And I truly hope I wasn't quoting Rita Skeeter with these words."

Hermione smiled, but Narcissa did the exact opposite, first with a small sob, and then breaking out in tears.

"Oh, honey, that was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," she said, and run to embrace the girl.

"You're turning into Hannah," Hermione commented, but nonetheless returned the hug.

"Only those with no heart can remain untouched by such words," Narcissa defended herself, sending a sharp glare at her son at the same time. She was still glaring at him when the two women finally drew apart, and her silent message was so obvious that Draco wasn't the only one who caught it.

"Narcissa, don't..." Hermione started, fully aware of what was to come next.

"I'm going to leave now," the woman stated, "It's time you two talked this thing out. And if you know what's good for you, neither of you is leaving this room before you have done exactly that."

"And you better have good news for me the next time I see you!" she threatened, closing the door behind her.

"So," Hermione said after the silence had reigned for far too long. She didn't dare to look at him, staring instead at the door Narcissa had closed behind her, thinking about her parting words.

Good news. She wanted to bring back good news more than anything. But now that the moment was here, she had to think realistically, and prepare herself. And although bringing back good news was something she wanted more than anything else at the moment, she knew it was a vain hope. But a vain hope was better than no hope at all, and miracles do happen, don't they?

Hermione was in the middle of assuring herself that they really did, when she was suddenly pulled backwards, and before she could react or protest in any way, emerald flames twirled around her, and a moment later she tumbled onto white rug.

It was thick and soft and familiar. Sitting on the carpet, Hermione looked around, and it took her only a couple of seconds to identify the place. After all, she did love it.

"Mother will not be very happy with us leaving the room," she commented. "Or the country."

"Too bad because I'm not going to have her eavesdrop on us behind the door," Draco replied from the sofa behind her, closing off the fireplace against any Floo connection.

Hermione was about to protest, but then she remembered that they were talking about Narcissa, and there was no way she was going to miss the option of listening in on their conversation. Still, she felt the need to say something, if only for prolonging the coming of terrible news.

"Can't blame her – I would do exactly same in her place. And so would you, I'm sure."

She knew he was going to object to that even without seeing his expression, so she quickly continued.

"You can deny it now, but once we have a son or daughter in a similar situation, you will most certainly be the first to claim the door."

Hermione smiled at that idea, but then suddenly frowned. Had she just said 'we'? She knew that she was thinking 'we', but she had had every intention to speak out 'you' instead; yet the more she thought back to her sentence, the surer she became of saying not the intended word. Draco was silent, and as she sat with her back to him, she couldn't find the answer from him. And she couldn't correct herself either in case she had actually said 'you' already. And to think about it, there was nothing wrong with her saying 'we' in the first place; after all, it was what she had been thinking about.

That problem solved, she wondered whether this was another try from her mind to postpone thinking about the serious topics, and decided that it most definitely had been, and for a while it had worked as well.

But now...

"Mother told us to bring back good news," Draco opened the conversation, the one that was supposed to change their lives for ever, and probably break some hearts in the process as well.

Realizing the disadvantage of her position, as she couldn't make a hasty exit if necessary, now that the Floo was down, Hermione finally stood up, but instead of taking a seat by his side, she moved to another window, and gazed at the scenery outside.

And oh what a beautiful scenery it was. Pure, white, untouched. Mountains and forests and land, all so white, and so pretty, and so sinless. White, cold, and frosty was the view that opened up to her, and this time it was no ice-cream. The majestic peaks of the Alps stood proud against the bluish grey sky, hiding the little cabin from all the curious looks of the world and from all the popular ski resorts, at the same time granting them a most special winter wonderland of their very own, reserved and made solely for their admiration and pleasure.

Hermione couldn't help thinking back to the happier times, but she quickly shook those thoughts off, for no matter how amusing was the memory of teaching Draco to ski, the present was too important for not paying attention to it.

But there was still something about the endless fields of snow that gave her peace; not determination, not hope, not strength, but peace. They also called out to her, but she resisted their invitation. Perhaps later she would be able to go for a walk between the magnificent peaks reaching into the sky, the immense woods stretching their arms protectively around them, and the eternal blanket of snow covering everything, giving them all the look and feel of innocence and infinity.

Perhaps she would laugh and play in the snow, or perhaps she would sit down under a fir tree, close her eyes, and become one with the nature. For ever.

That half-happy half-tragic thought made her smile, and somehow she found the strength to turn around and look at him.

Draco had stood up from the sofa himself, and was now standing in the middle of the room, looking at her. He had obviously been waiting for her to face him because now that she did, he went on with his talk.

"As I said, Mother expects us back any moment now with good news," he repeated. "I'm afraid that this time, however, she won't get what she wants. Because I have thought long and hard over this, and I've finally reached a conclusion. Hermione, I can't..."

"NO!"

The word had burst from her mouth without any conscious thought of saying it, but once it was out, it was followed by a feeling so intense that at first she was unable to decipher it herself. Her knees were trembling again, and her vision had lost some of its clarity, but she could hardly notice any of it, for there seemed to be an invisible hand clenching her heart, and an unearthly force rendering her immobile.

And after a moment, she recognized the feeling.

Fear.

Pure, undiluted, omnipotent. Hermione couldn't even remember the last time she had been so afraid, but it must have been sometimes during the war. She had been almost constantly scared at that time, but such gripping all-powerful fear she had only felt on a couple of occasions.

So intent it burned her like fire, so intent that the moment she found herself capable of motion, there was just one single thought in her mind.

She had to get away before it would demolish her entirely, combust her, destroy her, burn her to ashes.

"I can't," she spoke hurriedly, more for herself than anyone else, taking small inconspicuous steps towards the veranda door. "I can't. I can't hear it. I can't. I'm not strong enough. I thought I was, but I'm not. I can't take it. I can't. I'm sorry but I can't. I'm not strong enough. I'm not ready. I thought I was prepared, but I'm not. I know it's inevitable, but I can't hear it. I can't. I can't. I can't. I'm sorry. I can't. Because I can't. Because I thought I was strong, but I'm not. Because..."

Her searching hands found the door behind her and pushed it open.

"Because I'm still broken," she explained, stepping outside into the snow. The door fell shut and she was alone in the eternal whiteness, innocence, and peace. But the relief was momentarily, and she knew it. Despite her gripping fear, despite the blinding brightness and the biting cold, she heard his steps as he ran to the door, and without a second thought she rushed to the stairs.

It would have been so much easier to pull out her wand and Apparate, but that idea had failed to cross her mind. Instead she headed towards the white eternity, the white comfort, the white oblivion around her, intent on fulfilling at least one of her earlier thoughts. But as her luck had it, she made it no further than the first step of the staircase. The world made a sharp tilt as she slipped on the snow-covered ice, and then everything around her turned from white to black.

---

It was green. She stared at it, trying to figure out what it was. Not snow, apparently, but it could have been ice-cream. Apple or almond or peppermint flavour. Yet there were so many other green things in the world. Grass, and cucumbers, and frogs. She frowned and decided it was not a frog, then after a moment realized she was being ridiculous, and sat up on the bed.

It was a strange bed, as blue as the ceiling had been green. The room was large and spacious, the only other furniture besides the bed she was occupying a wardrobe to her left, and a small round table at the opposite wall. The windows were high and with stained glass, the sunlight shining through them creating colourful patches on the white carpet.

Hermione stayed in the room for a little longer, looking around in wonder and trying to figure out where exactly she was. It might have been another of the many houses Draco had all over the world, but if so, then this was one she had never been to before. And for some reason she found the idea doubtful; as beautiful as the room was, it didn't have the Malfoyish aura about it, the feeling of grandeur and extravagance. Not that they were tastelessly lavish, but she got the notion that there was something missing here. For example, a magnificent painting in gold frame. Or at least an adorned mirror. So much empty wall space would have been a great waste for them. Not that she minded it though; she often found the paintings the better part of all those houses. Except for the bedroom, of course, as Draco was very keen on proving to her.

But there were no pictures on these walls. Not that there was any need of it, though – the stained glass of the windows was the highlight of the room, and no more ornaments were necessary. Leaving the bed behind, she walked up to them to look more closely at the mosaic they displayed. She almost expected something religious, as such things were usually found in churches. But the first window depicted a tree in full blossom in the middle of a garden, the second a fountain surrounded by tiny yellow flowers. She stood there for a while, admiring their beauty, then stepped closer to take a peek outside, hoping to get some clue about her location. But the sunlight combined with all the colours were too bright for her eyes to take a glimpse of anything else.

So it seemed she had no other option but to leave this room, and if not find a hint to her surroundings, then perhaps someone who could tell her that much. Stopping at the door, she first took a deep breath. Not because she was afraid, no. At least not of the place, or any outward dangers. For there was only one plausible reason of her getting here, and he would have never taken her anywhere unsafe. But she couldn't deny being a bit apprehensive of the reasons of being here, or what still needed to be spoken to her.

Outside the room there was a short hallway that ended with a staircase going only down. Descending the steps, for what else could she do, Hermione ended up in another room, which size made the previous seem like a broom closet. It wasn't just that though. The room, or rather hall was round and roofed with a cupola, made of stained glass, just like the windows in the upstairs room, picturing another garden. Or perhaps the same because this too had a tree in blossoms and a fountain. But in contrast to the windows, this one moved. Not too much since Hermione only noticed it after a few moments, but the water in the fountain was in motion, and the leaves of the trees quivered as if in light breeze. Looking more closely, she noticed a bird hopping from one bough to another, and a few butterflies fluttering around.

After she had marvelled enough at the cupola above, Hermione lowered her head and eyes to take a good look of the hall. Here she managed to notice a huge fireplace and a settee in front of it, before something made her turn sharply and gasp. At the table by the French windows, a man was sitting and writing something.

He looked rather young and had light brown hair, and by his behaviour he hadn't noticed her yet. But now that she had she could look more closely, and it didn't take her long to realize she had never seen him before. He seemed in deep concentration and Hermione didn't want to disturb him. Yet the only way out of the room was the one by his side, and she hoped he could give her some of the answers she wanted.

"Excuse me," she spoke out, taking a few steps towards the stranger. He still didn't hear her, and only when she was standing right beside the table and repeating her words, did he look up from the parchment.

He looked kind and handsome, and there was something oddly familiar about his face, although she was more than certain now that she had never seen him before.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you," she said, "but I was wondering perhaps you could tell me..."

The stranger didn't let her finish.

"The garden looks especially beautiful today," he spoke, pointing to the French windows in front of him.

"Yes, I'd love to see it," Hermione said politely once she had recovered from her momentarily surprise at such an answer. "But perhaps you could tell me first..."

"And I find it very relaxing to walk through it."

"I believe you, but..."

"Go on and explore," the man said, standing up from the table and opening the doors for her, "it's not very big, but it might hold a few pleasant surprises."

Hermione briefly considered staying put and arguing, but the warm breeze was carrying some delightful fragrances to her, and a walk in the garden suddenly sounded as a good idea.

Thanking him with a smile, she stepped through the door into the garden, taking the path that started from there and led her into greenness. There were trees and bushes around her, and flowers growing in the grass on both sides of the trail. There was the bird song, and warm wind, and an exotic palette of sweet and spicy scents. She stopped from time to time to look closer at some plant or smell some flower, or simply stand and look around, or close her eyes and take a deep breath.

The man in the house had been right – the garden was very beautiful today, and there was definitely something calm and relaxing about it. To put it short, she felt better than she had for the last two weeks, and she couldn't help but wonder whether her recovery would have taken just as long if she had done it here.

The longer she walked, the more certain she became, but only when she found the fountain did she know for sure that this had been the very garden the cupola of the hall had portrayed.

It was in the middle of a small opening, surrounded by a circle of trees, hiding the house and everything else from the view. There were a few tiny yellow flowers growing in the grass, but other than that it looked rather bare compared to the rest of the garden.

Still, there was something about it that made it perfect just the way it was, and as she sat down at the edge of the fountain, Hermione couldn't help but sense something sacred about this place.

She gazed at the trees around her, then at the merrily glittering water in the fountain. She reached for the latter, getting her fingertips wet, and drawing patterns onto its surface.

If Draco did own this house, she made a mental note to come here far more often. But now that she had seen the stranger, she was rather sure all this belonged to him. Perhaps she could visit him from time to time. He didn't seem very sociable, but she wouldn't have to bother him, just walk through the garden after another long day and feel all her troubles fade away.

"Troubles," she spoke quietly, her hand still playing with the water. "Oh, the poor dear troubled life I'm living once again."

Here, in this garden, thinking those morose thoughts didn't seem as devastating at all as elsewhere. She even managed a smile at this.

"Then again, what kind of life would it be without all its problems and worries..."

"To keep it interesting," someone else finished her thought and sentence. "Boring, that's what."

"I didn't hear you come," Hermione said, not turning her head away from the fountain and its glittering water.

"I was silent," he replied, walking up to the fountain and by that also into her line of vision. "And you were deep in thought."

She looked at him and nodded. Once again the moment had arrived, and once again she prepared herself for what was to come. But this time she felt she could actually take it without breaking apart and running away. It was because of this place, she decided. There was some magical healing effect to it, something that even the ever-white snow had failed to give her.

"What is this place?" she asked, not to prolong the inevitable, but because she really wished to know.

"A garden," he replied curtly.

"I can tell that much," she smiled, "but where is this garden?"

"In Tibet."

Hermione raised her brows and looked around in wonder. Seemed that there was more magic to this place than its healing effect.

"Not what I expected Tibet to look like," she commented, and was happy to see him smirk at that.

"Who's that man I saw inside?" she questioned again, since he didn't seem in a rush to break the awful news to her, and get this over and done with.

"That was Eleseus. He owns this place," Draco explained, leaning against the edge of the fountain, never taking his eyes off her.

"I figured as much," Hermione replied, not turning her gaze away either. "Who is he?"

"He calls himself an eremite," he shrugged.

"Eremite?" she frowned. "Shouldn't they be living in some cave in the middle of a desert in solitude and poverty?"

He laughed at that.

"I'd like to see you make it clear to him. He'll only say that he is already living in desolation, and it's his business what to do with his money."

"Now that's a spirit you don't see often in an eremite," Hermione smiled again. In his place, she would have preferred the house and garden to some desert cave at any moment.

"Oh, I can't say," he replied half-jokingly. "He's the only eremite I know."

"How do you know him?" Hermione wondered, almost managing to forget the fact that they had a serious conversation ahead of them.

"He's a distant relative of mine," Draco replied casually, like it was no big deal. Hermione, however, had to disagree.

"He's a Malfoy?" she exclaimed in surprise. "But how come we have never heard of him? And neither you nor Narcissa have ever mentioned his name."

Draco shrugged again.

"Perhaps this is what his status of an eremite means – that people never talk about him. The family wasn't very happy about his choice either, and in their shame they kept quiet about it. I mean, what a waste of a son it would be, if he decided at one moment to get away from everyone he knew and go live in some faraway desolated place."

At least he didn't marry a Muggle-born, Hermione almost said, but managed to keep herself back.

"If he's an eremite," she asked instead, "then what are we doing here? I thought they wouldn't let anyone visit them."

"He's not very keen on company either," Draco smirked. "But I convinced him to make an exception for us."

"Why?" As much as Hermione loved and appreciated this place, she couldn't realize the reason behind them being here. There was no need, was there? Except for the healing and relaxing aura of the garden perhaps. Wait a second, could that have been the reason? Had he brought her here because he knew that it would be easier for her to hear the things he had to tell her in a place like this?

"Because of the garden?" she suggested, feeling the need to keep back her tears despite the atmosphere. Merlin knows how much trouble he had to go through to persuade an eremite to let them use his garden so that it would be easier for her! It meant that he still cared for her, and although that idea made her happier, it made her sadder as well. Because if he cared then this was going to be rather hard for him, too, and she didn't want to cause him more pain than she already had.

"Garden?" he repeated, as if the idea had surprised him. "We are certainly going to use the garden as well, but that was not the main reason. The main reason why I brought you here is..."

Damn him and his dramatic pauses!

"What?" she prompted with a mix of apprehension and curiosity.

But he kept quiet and tortured her for a long moment, staring deeply into her eyes with an unfathomable look.

"The main reason why I brought you here," he continued at last, smirking at her impatience, "is that in addition to an eremite, Eleseus is also a Mage."

His smirk turned into a little cryptic smile now, and he was looking at her as if some realization was going to hit her any moment now.

Hermione waited for it, but nothing came. Eleseus was a Mage. They were here because Eleseus was a Mage. She pondered about the piece of news, giving it a look from every possible angle, but still her brain made no connection whatsoever. Eleseus was a Mage. So what?

She said as much, and had him laugh at her. Which wasn't so bad at all, especially when compared to that emotionless cold voice he had used on her when she had told him the truth; and it was also better than the unbearable awkward silence they managed to create these days. But now she was curious, impatient, and didn't really appreciate him laughing at her, when he could give her the explanation she craved for instead.

Although, it did feel good to hear him laugh.

"What? I don't get it," she spoke at last, when he was done with his laughter and was giving her that look again.

"Think about it, Hermione. What does a Mage do?"

"A Mage conducts ceremonies," she replied at once. "All kinds of Wizarding ceremonies, like funerals, and weddings, and... and..."

And then the realization hit. For a moment she stared at him in shock, rather certain that she had misunderstood, and searching for any clue from his eyes that would tell her that. Yet she found none, at least not those contradicting her. There were those confirming her, though. But she was still unable to believe. Because... because... Because, damn it! Because it simply couldn't be. Because all the signs had been against it. His behaviour in the hospital, and his words in the little cabin in the Alps, and everything. This simply couldn't be. It simply could not be.

Hermione sharply turned her head. It didn't help, though – all the ideas and thoughts and realizations were still there in her mind. So she jumped to her feet and took a few steps away from the fountain. She didn't know why she thought that would help, but this was all she could do, short from running away. And there was no way she was going to run away this time.

"No," she said suddenly, and in her frazzled state of mind completely missed his sharp intake of breath. But before he managed to throw all his pride to the wind and start begging, which he would have done because this was much more important than anything else, including his pride, she opened her mouth again to add, "You can't mean it."

Draco, realizing that he had mistook her rejection, couldn't help a sigh of relief, and leaving his place by the fountain as well, went to stand behind her, close but not touching, giving her the room he thought she needed.

"You didn't let me finish back at the cabin," he spoke. "You thought you knew what I was going to say, and perhaps I should have worded it better for not to cause you any more distress, but..."

"Say it, say it now," Hermione whispered, not noticing the tears running down her cheeks.

"Would you look at me?" he implored, and she complied without hesitation because this was the moment, and he was going to tell her, and she was ready. Whether her earlier realization had been correct or not, she was ready. She was there, and he was there, and this time she was not going to run away.

Seeing the tears on her cheeks he now reached out to brush them off, and even when it was done he didn't remove his hands from her face. She was looking him straight in the eye, and he could read everything she was feeling at the moment from her expression or from her eyes. There was pain, there was hope, there was fear, and there was, of course, love. And he couldn't keep her in the dark for any longer, dramatic pauses be damned!

"Hermione," he spoke, "I can't deny that you did hurt me, but neither can I deny that there are some things much more painful than what you did to me. And one of them would be living without you. And I don't want that to happen, not when I can stop it. Because you are my life, Hermione, my world, my everything. Because I love you, and couldn't live without you."

For one long moment she stared at him, motionless, and for one long moment he feared that perhaps he had gone too far this time and lost her for good. But then she smiled, and then she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, and suddenly he had to repress his own tears.

Hermione, however, was done with repressing anything, not that she would have been able to, even if she wanted. But she didn't want because the tears she cried now were of pure happiness. Because all of her bad feelings had been suddenly replaced with good ones; because she was happy and overjoyed and happy. Because all her dreams had suddenly become true, and all of a sudden she had everything she could ever wish for. Because she had him, and she was never ever ever going to let him go.

"Will you forgive me?" she whispered, warm and safe and happier than ever before standing in his embrace.

"I already have," he replied, kissing her forehead lightly. "Will you forgive me? For putting you through all this, for leaving you in the first place, for not finding you afterwards?"

"There's nothing to forgive," she smiled through her tears of happiness. "I love you."

"And I love you."

For a while they stood in silence, but it was a good silence, the best there could be. She could faintly hear the water of the fountain over the beating of his heart, faintly recognize the breeze on her face over his warm breath, faintly smell the thousand exotic scents over the one that was purely him. Faintly feel anything else but him, and her love for him, and his love for her. And her joy. Her endless boundless overflowing joy.

Yes, the garden was especially beautiful today.

He broke the silence first.

"Will you marry me?"

"You have already asked me this," she chuckled.

"I know. Will you?"

"Yes."

"That's good," he smiled. "I'll get Eleseus." But he made no attempt to let go of her, and so they stood there for a little longer.

"Mother is going to have both of our heads if we do this without her," Hermione said at last.

"We don't have to, you know. We can go back and we can have everything we had in the first place. All our friends, and ice sculptures, and a lot of people, and the media, although it might be hard to convince everyone that this time we are going to do it for real."

She laughed at that.

"No. Let's do it here and now. This place is perfect, and I have got everything I need."

"If that's what you want," he concurred.

"All I want is you," she said, looking him in the eye. "Can I have you?"

"But you already do," he replied, and kissed her.

---

Narcissa was that close to a nervous breakdown, and she knew it. But she was not going to cross that border before finding at least one of them. She knew she should have warded the room before leaving, but she hadn't, and now they were both gone. Again.

She had every intention to hex the first to return into the next century. At least as long as the first one to return was Draco. Oh, she was really going to show him this time. Show him what happened to boys who didn't listen to their mother and didn't marry the girl she was determined to have as her daughter-in-law, and the mother of her grandchildren. Oh, she was going to show him.

She had even got herself some back-up, in case he felt like disappearing again at the sight of his very, very, very angry mother. Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hannah were doing all they could at the moment to calm Narcissa down, although Hannah was getting almost as hysterical as Mrs. Malfoy now, and had to be calmed down herself. Yet the rest of them did their best, even though it was no help at all. Narcissa was determined to be hysterical, and show her son exactly what she thought of his behaviour the moment he decided to return. She was so angry at him that even Ron felt a bit sorry for Malfoy. Of course, most of his attention went to calming down his own girlfriend, giving him little time to worry about anyone else.

"I'm sure they are going to come back very soon," Ginny said for the thousandth time, forcing her voice calm and soothing, even though she was getting rather irritated by the situation herself. It wasn't only that they had to calm down someone who was determined not to calm down, but it was getting harder and harder to remain calm and optimistic themselves while the woman went on describing just how fragile and broken Hermione had been before leaving.

"She looked rather fine to me," Harry tried to argue, even though the note of doubt was audible in his voice.

"Of course she looked fine to you!" Narcissa exclaimed. "That's because I forced her to take a rest before coming to visit you! If only you could have seen her before – so tired, so exhausted, so desperate. You should have seen the way she looked in the hospital – cried herself to sleep in my arms. I'm sure she might have looked fine to you, but I can tell when she is fine, or just trying with all her might not to break apart. I can tell the difference, and I can tell you she was not fine!!!"

"Erm," was the only reply Harry managed to give, taking a backwards step, and looking around the room for the quickest way of escape. Ron and Hannah had already slipped away somewhere, and he couldn't but think how fortunate they were because of it.

"I'm sure they'll come back soon," Ginny spoke, grabbing Harry's arm at the same time to stop him from escaping and leaving her all alone with a hysterical Narcissa Malfoy. "I'm sure they just went to someplace they could be alone, someplace they could talk to each other without any interruptions."

"They could have talked here!" she screeched, sounding much like a banshee. "And even so, they really should be back already. They have been gone for hours. Hours!"

"They have much to talk about."

"No, they don't. He either gets his wits around and apologizes to her, or he will continue acting like a total idiot and push her even further away. Either case, it's the matter of minutes, not hours."

"Perhaps," Ginny said and thought fast, "perhaps they just need a moment together alone. Or perhaps they are discussing some other things that need to be discussed with their decision."

"Like what?" Narcissa snapped at her.

"Like... their future. Arrangements of all sorts. And things like that."

"Arrangements?" Narcissa's voice was dangerous. "Like living arrangements?"

"Maybe..."

"If he does not apologize to her and take her back like he ought to, I am going to show him. But if he thinks, even for the briefest of moments, that he can kick her out of the house just because he is the greatest fool in the world, there is going to be some serious kicking and kicking out for him, and him alone!"

"Threatening me once again, Mother?" an amused voice asked, and as all three turned around in surprise, they could see the flames at the fireplace burning emerald, and Draco stepping out of them.

There was a moment of silence when everyone tried to adjust to what their eyes were seeing, and Harry tried to slip out of the room unnoticed, a great plan which didn't work because Ginny was still holding on to him, and refusing to move.

"That's right, Draco," Narcissa advanced on her son, looking as ominous as she could manage. "And this time I am going through with every little threat I have ever bestowed upon you."

"And why would you do that, Mother?" he inquired with nonchalance, as if there was nothing frightening about the situation or the woman seething with rage in front of him.

"Don't you dare play games with me," she warned. "I specifically forbid you to leave this room before you have talked your things out. And what did you do? You left me for hours to worry on my own! You didn't tell me where you were going, or when you would come back, or anything else! You just left without saying a word! You are a devilish little boy, and you will be punished for it. This time for real."

Harry would have laughed at such words had he been seeing this from some faraway place, or hearing someone tell the story. But now and here, there was nothing funny about it. Nothing funny whatsoever. Of course, it could have been worse. As it was probably going to get, once Mrs. Malfoy decided to introduce them as her back-up. Right now, neither mother nor son were paying any attention to them, and Harry dearly hoped it would stay that way until he could manage to convince Ginny that the only thing they should do at the moment was to run for their lives.

"I'm sure you are right and we have been naughty, naughty children," Draco began with a smirk.

"But perhaps," Hermione continued, emerging from the fireplace as well, "you might consider doing it after we have delivered the good news."

"Good news?" Narcissa frowned.

"Yes, Mother," Draco nodded. "Remember, you ordered us to bring back good news. So in fact it's actually your fault we were gone for so long. I suppose we could have come back earlier, or never left at all, but there was the issue of those good news we needed, so we had to go and get them."

Narcissa was still frowning, suspicious that he was saying all this only to calm her down. But Hermione was there as well, and looking rather fine, and this time not only looking rather fine. She really seemed to be all right, so perhaps...

"Let's hear your good news then," she said at last, her tone and expression very clearly ending the sentence with 'and let's see what it's worth of'.

"Well, the thing is," Hermione began, but didn't quite get to finish.

"Wait!" Ginny exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention to her. But she didn't seem to mind it.

"Hold that thought for a moment," she hastily explained to her friend. "I'll go and find Ron and Hannah. Merlin knows they need some good news right now."

When she had rushed out of the room, Hermione gave Harry a questioning look, and either finding encouragement from her expression or thinking himself doomed in any case, he told her the truth about his presence.

"We were sort of a back-up," he told her. "In case Mrs. Malfoy really needed to show her son for good."

He was half-afraid Draco might curse him at that, but he did the exact opposite by bursting into joyful laugher.

"You brought Potter and his friends here to kick my ass, Mother? You really outdid yourself this time."

It was said with good humour and amusement, but Narcissa still felt the need to be insulted. Or at least pretend to be insulted.

"I simply needed to be sure you wouldn't be making another hasty exit," she shot at him coldly, turning her head sharply away as if she couldn't bear the sight of him at the moment.

But Draco, who knew his mother well enough to realize when she was being sincere and when pretending, only laughed at this, and winked at the baffled Harry, who got even more confused by that.

Hermione looked from one person to another, trying to figure out what she should say, and who she should say it to. In the end she picked Harry, and moved closer to him.

"I'm really glad you are here," she said, and smiled happily.

"I'm glad you are here, too," he answered after a moment, and gave a small smile back to her.

"I'm really glad you are here!" Hermione exclaimed at that, and engulfed him into a hug, which he did return, despite his growing confusion.

Both Narcissa and her son were staring at the pair now, the former rather surprised, and the latter smirking in amusement. This lasted until Hermione finally let Harry go, and a second later Ginny re-entered the room, her face a bit redder than it should have been from her running around the Manor.

Harry noticed this just like everybody else.

"What's wrong?" he asked in concern, stepping closer to his wife. "Where are Ron and Hannah?"

"Nothing," Ginny answered too quickly and blushed even deeper. "They will be here any moment now. They just have to... erm... get dressed first."

"Get dressed?" Harry asked in puzzlement. "But why would they need to get dressed?"

Ginny only glared at him, while Hermione's smile widened with realization.

"Does this mean he finally proposed to her?" she inquired enthusiastically.

"I don't know. Probably," Ginny replied. "Although I didn't really got to ask because I was too busy covering my eyes and screaming. It seems that they weren't in as great of a need for good news as we thought, apparently."

Hermione laughed at that, and so did Draco; Harry looked like he would have been much happier without that knowledge, Ginny was still disturbed by what she had walked in on, and as happy as Narcissa was for those two, she was more concerned about the current situation of another couple. Especially the fact whether they could be called a couple any more.

It didn't take too long until Ron and Hannah made it into the room, and although Ron's ears were more crimson than ever before, Hannah seemed to have calmed down at last. There was also this little satisfied smile on her face, which in addition to Ron's blush would have made their previous activities clear to everybody even without Ginny's information.

"We're here," Ron announced. "We were just... erm..."

"Looking around the house!" Hannah exclaimed. "Yes, that's it. And it's a very beautiful house, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Thank you, dear," Narcissa nodded at her, thinking that a bit of good manners wouldn't hurt anyone in such a situation.

"Yes, the house is alright. But we are here now, and Ginny—" he blushed at the mention of his sister "—said you had something to tell us."

"We do," Hermione nodded, stepping closer to the newcomers. "But do you have something to tell us, as well?"

Both Ron and Hannah blushed at this, and though the latter fidgeted for a while longer, she simply couldn't keep such news to herself.

"We're engaged!" the girl exclaimed, jumped into the air, and gave Hermione a tight embrace, only to let go after a second, and run to do the same to everyone else in the room.

"That's fantastic!"

"Congratulations, Hannah. Ron."

"It was about time, too."

"Finally, Ron, finally!"

"I'm very happy for both of you. But I would be even happier if we could stop the hugging and screaming for a moment now so that Hermione and Draco could tell us their good news."

With a grin Hannah ran back to Hermione and hugged her again.

"Oh, you are back together! That's fabulous! I was going to ask you to be my bridesmaid, but this way we could have a double wedding! Wonderful idea, isn't it?"

Hermione received a mental image of two rows of ice-sculptures and a bunch of twittering and frazzled balls of nerves fussing around both her and Hannah, which gave her shudders.

She pulled away from the other girl and quickly shook her head.

"No double wedding."

"But..." Hannah started and then stopped, a look a horror cascading over her face. "But you are going to get married, aren't you?"

Hermione sent a quick look to Draco, who was standing a few steps behind them and smiling at her, then turned back to the girl.

"No, not really."

A moment of silence. And then...

"I am going to kill you, Draco Lucius Malfoy. This time you will not escape, this time I am really going to have your head!"

"Suit yourself, Mother," Draco replied with a smirk, as Narcissa was already waving her wand threateningly at him. "Kill me if you want your dear Hermione become a widow at such young age."

"You can talk and smirk all you want, Draco, but this time it is not going to save you from my... What?"

Narcissa halted in her words and movement, standing perfectly still for a moment and staring at her son, then turning around and looking to Hermione instead.

The girl smiled at her.

"Well, yes," she said. "We got married."

Another quiet moment before the storm.

"Hermione, dear!"

"You got married?"

"You got married without us???"

"Hannah, love, are you alright? You look a bit pale... aaah!"

Everybody had a lot to say, except for Hannah who had fainted, but luckily caught by her fiancé and now resting in his arms. When all the screaming had finally ended, although it took enough time for Hannah to recover and join in, all the congratulations given, all the questions asked and answered, and everyone's indignation expressed for not being invited to the ceremony, Hermione was finally able to make another announcement.

"Thanks for your warm wishes, everybody. I'm so happy you were here and could be happy with me and for me. Congratulations again to Ron and Hannah, you are perfect for each other! Well, we better get going now."

"Go? Where?" five people shouted at once.

"Where do you think?" Hermione smiled at them, while Draco wrapped his arms around her from behind, and rested his chin upon her shoulder, kissing her neck lightly.

"Honeymoon, of course," she answered her own questions and threw her head back to laugh, also giving him better access to her neck.

"Get a room!" Ron finally exclaimed, when the display was getting a bit too much for his comfort.

"Only not the one at the end of the left-hand hallway!" Hannah added, then blushed.

Narcissa simply stared at them, tears of happiness in her eyes.

"Erm, perhaps we should go?" Harry suggested.

"No way!" Ginny exclaimed. "You two better control your carnal urges for another couple of hours because we are going to throw you a party, whether you like it or not."

Saying that she jumped off the couch and started firing off instructions.

"Hannah, go tell Susan about this. Ron, you handle all our family and friends. Harry, come with me, we will summon everybody else. Narcissa, stay here and make sure that this time they will stay in this room. All right, people, time to act. Up-up-up, go-go-go, we don't have a moment to spare!"

---

"We really should have owled them, shouldn't we?" Draco asked, sitting on the living-room's couch with his wife in his arms, playing with her hair and placing soft kisses on her neck and cheeks.

This time Narcissa had taken all the precautions to keep them from leaving the room. She had shut down the Floo connection, modified the wards to block any kind of Apparition, closed all the windows and door with powerful spells, and taken both their wands away as well. This time they really had been locked in, and had no way of getting out on their own.

"How long do you think it will take them to get everything ready?" Hermione wondered. She didn't really mind the party, but she would have rather postponed it for about two weeks or so. Because as nice as it was to chat and drink and laugh with all her friends, there was something else she would have rather done at the moment.

There must have been something in her tone because Draco stopped his caresses and raised a brow at her.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked, and there was definitely something in his voice.

"Well," she said and smirked. "As everybody seems to have gone away and left us all alone, we should think out a way to entertain ourselves."

"And what would that be?" he inquired, eyes dark with desire.

"Oh, I'm sure we could come up with something."

And they did.

"You do realize," Draco said after a while, sounding slightly breathless, "that all our friends and family can walk into here any moment now."

But this was more of a statement than a warning because he made no attempt to stop what he was doing. Not that she wanted him to.

"Well," she forced herself to say and not scream it, "it's going to be their own fault for not knocking."

"I like the way you think," he breathed into her ear.

"And I like the way you feel, and taste, and..."

---

Removing herself from the door, Narcissa cast a quick Imperturbable Charm on it, then after a moment's though, added a Silencing Spell as well. With a smile on her face she went into the entrance hall, to wait and greet the first guests to arrive, and to take them into the back yard for the party. Once everybody was here and the party in full swing, she would go back and knock.

The End.

-----

Note #2: Ah, I wish I had that house with the magical garden. Speaking about that garden, I wanted to end the story right there and then, and I still think it would have been a beautiful ending, but for the love of Salazar, I simply couldn't leave hysterical Narcissa out of it. ;)

REVIEW :) :) :)