I'm taking a break from my studies to post my story from the charity. For all those that participated in the charity, I just want to say my own thanks and also to any of the authors, they were so excellent. I'm so honored to be included with you guys.

As for my readers please bear with me, its a little different than my other stories.

Love to hear what you guys think though! Also promise that it is already finished, will post next and last part tomorrow, so it won't be another year before I complete it.

But on that hand, I will hopefully be updating a few times this break! So if you can wait a little longer, I promise that it will be worth it.

Without further ado this is When Roses Bloom Again...

Dear Ms. Hermione Granger,

My name is Rosalind but my daddy calls me Ro. I like it better, don't you?

I hopes you become the minister. Your my favorite because you smile pretty and kind. My daddy says you will be a good one because your strong and smart. I know hes right. I hope I get to be meet you one day so I can learn to be as smart and strong as you.

Ro

It was a race for the history books. The first single woman was running for Minister against the war veteran, Caleb Bagnold, who was carrying on the legacy of his great grandmother, Millicent Bagnold, the Minister at the time of Lord Voldemort's first demise.

Yet Hermione Granger hadn't been intimidated, as her third party had been. She'd fought the same Dark Wizard Bagnold's legacy was built on and had survived, with many scars at that. Scars both on her soul and physical being, like so many others. Her same scars reminded her of why she was running.

Kingsley was going to take a term off in order to rebuild the Auror's Department. Too much corruption had occurred since his absence and try as Harry might – he was the Boy-Who-Lived – he was only one person with little training in the position of leadership, a task that he was not keen on in the first place. Harry, still to this day, did not believe that he was a good leader, no matter how often they told him otherwise.

Not only the Auror's department, but Kinglsey also, had to try to practically build the Department of Mysteries back from scratch. While he had tried to do this as Minister, too much else – 'Too much politics,' he would murmur in his deep tenor – had disrupted him. At last it had driven him crazy, how dysfunctional everything was, and if they were to rebuild and stay they needed a foundation, a solid foundation. Too many fundraisers, dinners, and travelling to the rest of the world preoccupied his time. He had to assure the wizarding nation that the British Ministry was up and running again; that they were trustworthy and not made of Death Eaters all in cahoots with Dark Lords. Hence he had asked Hermione to step up, his piercing eyes the color of the darkest coals, though not unkind.

Hermione had been hesitant – she had only gotten her promotion in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement months ago after nearly five years, having come to work for the Ministry right after finishing her education at Hogwarts – but Kingsley had told her all the reasons that he was nominating her. Many of them reminded her of all the things being fought for during the war that took so many lives from them. Equality for all creatures was still not equal by any means. It just wasn't. Not even the thousands of deaths that occurred at the hands of a man so prejudiced and evil could convince the masses to change their way of thinking that had plagued them for eons. Kingsley also wanted Hermione to run because she wasn't thirsty for power, whereas the gleam in Caleb Bagnold's eyes said just so. A man like that, inflated with the power of being Minister, would not be good news for anyone. It would be a whole new kind of terror – possibly worse than Pius or Fudge ever were.

Thus Hermione Granger had run, campaigned day in and out, earning herself insomnia that wouldn't release its hold, and had barely won. So many people had helped – Harry, Kingsley, and even, to her shock, Draco Malfoy had checked in on her campaign. He had never said a word to her, their eyes only meeting for a moment. His were so full of sorrow and tempests that she never did get to say anything, only capable of being taken aback by his grey eyes full of emotions she was unable to read… or was it, unable to relate?

Looking around the crisp blue office, Hermione gently took off her heeled shoes. As no one else was there with her, she found no reason for the formality of heels. It was almost four in the morning now and the celebrations had winded down around two, everyone departing at three. Leaving just her. Hermione's bare feet brushed the edges of the large Oriental rug as they took her to the edge of her office, where a large one-way glass window overlooked the whole bottom floor of the ministry. Lightly placing her palm before her, Hermione overlooked the dark emptiness of the Ministry of Magic, in a slight disbelief that she was now Minister. Her. She who had been brought to this literally magical word thirteen years ago was now going to lead the Magical community.

What the bloody hell was she thinking? She had so much she would have to prove. She had won the race but not by much…

Dear Ms. Hermione Granger!

I knew you could win. I made to galleons because my cousin douted you, but I knew you could win. #1 fan. You will be wonderfull.

Ro

Looking at the letter in her hand though, a companion to the first letter, arriving just hours after she had won the tight race. They were the sweetest letters that she had ever had the honor of receiving, it not even mattering that they were written in child's scrawl. Hermione sighed softly. If a little girl could have that much faith in her, why couldn't she? With that Hermione gently looked up once more, catching her own reflection in the glass pane this time. Smiling, she nodded to herself. Think of it as another adventure…

Another adventure it was going to be. Just one with more word games, political gestures, and dinners… many dinners and balls. And it would be a challenge but who was she not to take challenges head on.

!

Dear Ms. Granger,

How I detaste my cousin. He pushed me down the stairs and now I am back in the icky place. I do not like this place. It smells and rarely do people smile. My doctor is not smiling making my daddy not smile. I am scared that I bruise again.

Ro

Reading the latest letter, Hermione brought her hand up to cup her chin, lightly resting it on her palm. Her eyes peered at the letter, brows furrowing in worry and thought. Getting out of her seat, Hermione crossed the space of her lush carpet, opening the door to talk to her secretary.

"June?"

"Yes Minister, ma'am," June replied, attempting to catch flying notes, which were headed her way – all of them either requesting a visit to the Minister or a visit from her. However she missed, causing one to become caught in her hair.

Hermione let out a small smile as she watched the flying yellow notes approach continuously in a frighteningly steady stream. How she loved magic, notes that could literally fly… However, back to the task at hand.

"June, do you have the address of the last letter from Ro that I received?"

"Yes ma'am, the letter was simply marked from St. Mungos," she answered, swiping the paper from her hair.

Hermione bit on her bottom lip. "Do I have any time today to-"

"No, sorry ma'am," June interrupted her apologetically. "Your schedule is completely full. In three minutes, three employees from the Magical Creatures department will be arriving to discuss new Unicorn protection laws."

Closing her eyes, Hermione sighed. "Thank you, June," she said before shutting the door once more. Work… but she knew what she was signing up for when she told Kingsley yes.

Crossing her office, Hermione stopped right in the middle and looked up at her ceiling, a ceiling enchanted to show the sky, currently stormy at the moment. For a brief moment, Hermione stared regretfully at the tumultuous clouds, but shaking her head, Hermione cleared all wandering thoughts from her mind. Getting behind her desk, Hermione once more slipped into her heels, no longer able to go barefoot in company.

!

To Hermione's surprise and delight, June had forwarded her an owl, knowing just how special the letters from her littlest fan were to her, all the way to her German hotel.

Dear Minister Granger,

Is that too formal? I do not know. I'm very tired though but I had to write you. Waiting for Sirgiry, Daddy told me stories all about you. I best like the story where you fly with a haneus creature that turns out to be good. He was just misunderstood like my daddy.

I am scared.

Ro

Hermione gasped upon finishing the short letter. Her hand shook as she took out her own pen to respond, a nervousness and anxiety taking hold of her. However, a knock at her door halted her process.

"Minister? The Minister of Germany is here to welcome you to our country."

Closing her eyes, Hermione swallowed the biting words she wanted to say.

!

Presently, Hermione Granger – British Minister of Magic, 2004 – was sitting at the table, dining with the current German Minister of Magic, a rather robust, grandfatherly-looking man. His beard, much like the one once seen on Otto von Bismark, seemed to move as the man laughed, his whole body shaking.

"Wienerschnitzel," the man repeated with another laugh as a fellow guest asked him to say the name of his plate once more.

"And that is?" the guest was urging him on about what exactly Weinersnitzel meant, when the doors of the main dining room opened grandly. The guard at the door looked straight ahead as he introduced the name of the newest guest to join their party.

Hermione Granger, though, paid no mind to the name because she already knew exactly who it was the moment they stepped in the room.

"I apologize for being late, Guggenmater," Draco Malfoy said, tipping his head slightly in an apologetic manner. A tired and restrained smile graced his pale, chapped lips as the German minister welcomed him with another grand laugh.

"No matter, no matter," he said, waving it off. "Sit, sit, sit, dear boy. You look like you haven't slept in days."

Indeed it did look that way, as dark, heavy rings of a bruise-like purple surrounded his weary grey eyes.

"How is the Mrs.?" Finley Gold asked, causing Guggenmater to whip his head fiercely around.

"Finley," he hollered with an exasperated sigh, much to Hermione's confusion. "How many times must I tell you?!"

"I believe she is fine. We have been estranged for nearly two years now and I believe she is settling in the French Chateau at the moment, rather contentedly," Draco answered evenly, lacking emotion as Gold's lukewarm blue eyes widened, before he looked down in embarrassment.

Guggenmater shook his head at his friend. "Now Draco, I believe that you may recognize one of your seat mates," he said, trying to shift the conversation elsewhere.

It was only then that Draco looked around him until his grey eyes connected with his Minister of Magic. "Minister," he said in slight shock, his eyes widening ever so slightly.

Hermione gulped, unsure of this unprecedented event. She hadn't been expecting Malfor of all people to appear. She also couldn't help but wonder, though, just how Draco Malfoy knew, and was close enough to, the German Minister as to be invited to a private dinner. "Hello," Hermione managed, almost squeak-like. Even though her face was expressionless Hermione Granger was cringing on the inside. Did she really just squeak? Dear, Merlin. Coughing to compose herself, Hermione tried again, more formally this time. "Good Evening."

Despite this though, Draco Malfoy's eyes had a certain glint to them, a glint of amusement at the knowledge that his presence could make the all formidable, and history-making, Minister of Magic squeak. Pressing a glass of water to his lips briefly, Draco hid a small – very small – smile as he nodded in acknowledgement. "And to you, Minister Granger," he replied after putting his glass down. How his daughter would be angry, maybe even enough to throw a temper tantrum, despite her normally calm demeanor, when she was to find out that he had dinner with the Hermione Granger without her.

For some odd reason, one that 'Minister Granger' could not comprehend, she could feel a slight blush spread over her cheeks as her former childhood nemesis quirked a grin at her, a grin – not the smirk that had once seemed permanently etched into his features when they were young. Blinking, Hermione also couldn't help but really take a second look at Draco Malfoy. His hair was still so delicately blonde, the locks utterly soft and smooth like swan feathers, framing his face in an aristocratic and clean cut – whereas her hair was still untamable on many days.

Since starting her job at the Ministry, she had taken a liking to wearing her hair up with a long clip, the clip a practical coppery color that matched many outfits despite Ginny Potter's protests. She had lost count of how many times she had to replace it because Ginny would mysteriously lose it.

While the rings under his eyes pronounced exhaustion, they didn't dilute the unique shade of stormy grey… that was now missing the haughtiness of his early years. Instead, his eyes contained a sadness and understanding – an understanding for what, she was unsure. Still, there was an allure to them. Dear Merlin, Fleur Weasley was right! She did need to have some romance in her life because she was apparently desperate enough to find Draco Malfoy very attractive at the moment!

"And Draco," Guggenmater said, his German accent deepening Draco's name to stress the 'a'. "How is the Little Miss?"

!

At last, dinner had ended nearly four hours later. If nothing else, Germans, especially the German Minister himself, quite enjoyed their beer and stories.

"Thank you so much for hosting this wonderful dinner. I am very glad to hear that our Departments of Magical Law Enforcement are working together to catch these new 'Death Crawlers', as they call themselves," Hermione said to Guggenmater.

"Of course, my dear. Of course," he laughed as he personally helped Hermione put her coat on, such an informal, friendly gesture showing his respect and support for her as the new British Minister of Magic. "This is a time of peace. We do not need hooligans, believing they are superior to everyone, out there," he said gravely, not a trace of laughter in his words. "Speaking of them, I do not feel comfortable letting you leave my home without an escort." He shook his head grandfatherly as Hermione opened her mouth to protest. "No arguing. Draco!"

!

So it was, despite Hermione's personal Aurors that stuck with her like glue outside of the vicinity of her home, that Draco Malfoy was escorting Hermione to her hotel room. They were traveling in Guggenmater's carriage – a very plain and rather austere oak carriage that spoke volumes of Guggenmater's Prussian heritage.

The sounds of the horse's trotting filled the carriage as it rolled on, Hermione's two Auror guards sitting alert in the front and back of the carriage, on the lookout. This left the two Hogwarts' graduates to silently not acknowledge each other.

No acknowledgement equaled no tension, just empty space, however, that empty space was starting to make Hermione, the second youngest Minister of Magic ever, squirm. She had nothing else to do, but look out the window or look at her companion – her very companion that she had found very attractive earlier in the evening for reasons she did not understand, nor wanted to. Some things were better left untouched, which definitely included any attraction she felt for the silent, well-mannered man that had taken over the body of a boy she had once greatly disliked.

When the carriage arrived at her hotel, Hermione nearly jumped out of the open door, only to have the belt of her coat lodge between the seats, trapping her halfway. No one said a thing as the British Minister of Magic turned a bright red, her eyes closing in mortification while Draco Malfoy silently released the belt of her coat from its confinement.

"Thank you," Hermione tried to say evenly as she stepped out.

"Night Granger," Draco said, omitting her formal title this time because after a lapse like that, if he said so, it would only make it seem like he was mocking her. Mocking Hermione Granger was far from his mind when he was silently laughing inside and preparing to retell the events of the evening to his daughter.

!

Escaping her room, Hermione fastened her hat over her hair, which had been loosely magicked to appear a darker shade – almost pitch black like Harry's. Her guards were completely unaware, both believing that she was taking a long, languid bath with rose petals and a sweet wine, both of which she had ordered as a decoy. They would probably find out in an hour or so and Harry would more than likely be absolutely livid with her because of the threat of Death Crawlers, but she wasn't unarmed, nor was she defenseless. She could most certainly hold her own and Harry Potter would just have to deal with her need for independence when it called.

Glancing sideways, Hermione Granger tried to see if anyone had noticed her. Luckily, it seemed everyone else was too preoccupied with their own lives, so she crossed the threshold to muggle Munich without trouble.

The first thing Hermione Granger did when she stepped into muggle Munich was take a deep breath. The smell of freedom was so sweet. She understood the necessity for all of the safety precautions, Harry had even handpicked her guards himself, but she needed time every now and then. She had always been rather unmanageable in some ways and needed her space to roam – a 'wild spirit deep within that needs to be free,' her father had often said before he kissed the top of her head.

Just thinking about him… Hermione closed her eyes and smiled. Her father had always been a fan of German chocolate…

Hermione suddenly bumped into another person as they both entered the Alois Dallmayr, one of the oldest sweet and chocolate shops in the city, at the same time. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Hermione apologized.

"As am I."

At the awfully familiar voice, Hermione looked up and was met by stormy grey eyes. "Malfoy," his name escaped her lips before she could help herself.

How did the stranger know his name? Draco's head tilted up as he looked closer at the woman he had run into. Seeing wide-set brown eyes, just lighter than chocolate, with a smattering of barely-visible freckles on the top of her nose and cheeks lightly painted with the same freckles, he realized that it wasn't a stranger who he had bumped into, but Hermione Granger. Now the question was, why was she in muggle Munich?

"What are you doing here?"

But it seemed that she was always one step ahead of him. "I could ask the same of you," Draco peered at her. "Minister Granger," he whispered lowly so only they could hear, unknowingly causing a slight shiver to go down Hermione's back. It wasn't a bad feeling, but her previous concern for him rose with it.

She paused in her thoughts, why was it Draco Malfoy that was making her feel troubled? The emotion in his eyes had bothered her from the moment he had appeared at the headquarters for her campaign, looking so pained – as if he were losing everything he cared for.

!

As expected of one of the oldest and best chocolate shops in Munich, it was utterly crowded. So crowded it was hard for anybody to move without brushing against another. "Darf ich mal vorbe," one young woman said, passing quickly by. Doing so, she knocked Malfoy off balance so that he ended up almost knocking Hermione into the shelf behind her. However as another person tried to get past, they ended up hitting the shelf, causing the wrapped truffle chocolates to shower the two of them.

"Is that?" Hermione barely asked before she closed her eyes on pure instinct, just missing when the person before her put his arms up to shield the two of them as best he could.

Slowing opening her eyes, Hermione glanced up just to see Draco Malfoy looking amused. An almost smile on his lips while his left brow slightly arched before he reached towards her hair.

"What are you?!" Hermione asked in surprise when it felt like as if Malfoy was trying to pull her hair only to stare when she saw that actually he had plucked a stray truffle that had nestled into her hair.

"Relax…" Draco said with a quirk to his lips before stopping mid sentence. His pale pink toned lips parted but nothing came out.

Hermione cocked her head to the side. "Malfoy?"

"I don't know what to call you," Draco confessed, looking at her straight in the eye, never minding that he was still slightly leaning towards her.

"Huh?" Hermione said automatically, a little tongue tied by their close proximity. Grey eyes stared back at her, observing her. But grey, wasn't an appropriate description as she could almost see every detail at the moment and they were so much more beautiful, almost beautifully tragic. Round set eyes, with a blur of grays, blues, even the slightest hint of white swirled, the rim slightly darker near the iris, like a storm of summer. That was the color of Malfoy's eyes. A summer storm…

"Granger," Malfoy said breaking Hermione from her reverie. "Or do I call you," He leant even closer, his lips mere centimeters from her ear. "Minister?" he whispered, sending shivers up her spine.

Swallowing, Hermione coughed to get her bearings together. "Hermione Granger is just fine," she said in her nonsense manner, fighting the blush his proximity had unleashed. "Please don't mess with me Malfoy, I'm no longer that girl from our school days." She placed her hands on her hips, standing firmly upright.

"Of course," He said, sounding almost mocking but that was the last of it as a store worker came around, fussing at the candies littering the ground.

Malfoy stepped away, to let the worker clean up, secretly keeping the truffle he had rescued from Granger's locks.

"Wait," He felt a tugging on the sleeve of his jacket when he tried to move on. Looking back, Malfoy's brows furrowed when he found that it was Hermione Granger, again. "Can I just ask what you're doing here? My curiosity really is killing me… this is," She bit her lip, not wanting to say the word muggle.

"I'm here for my daughter Granger, she loves the chocolates, especially the ones from here. I've changed but not that much, enough to venture to these parts for no reason. Don't worry, I'm still somewhat the boy you went to school with so don't look at me like I'm some kind of enigma you need to study and fix." He said before nodding at her and going his own way.

Hermione simply watched him go, because really, what could she say? But still she wondered why he thought she needed to fix him? Shaking her head, Hermione just shook the thought of Malfoy away to continue her task at hand so that she could return before a huge ruckus was made about her disappearance.

!

Packaging up the chocolate for her father, Hermione's thoughts began to drift back to the store. She had found out just the other night that Draco had a daughter, but now she knew said daughter also had a sweet tooth, one that only delicious chocolate could satiate. Apparently Malfoy could bear through muggle Munich and one of its most famous chocolatiers to get his daughter her favorite chocolate.

"I wonder," Hermione whispered, wondering just what Draco Malfoy's daughter would be like. Was she anything like Malfoy had been in their early school years? Or was she like her Ro?

Happy Holidays everyone!

My finals are over as of tomorrow and I will put up part two tomorrow after the last exam!

I know its a little different than some of my other stories, but hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.