DISCLAIMER: not mine.

Hermione, still burying her face in Harry's shoulder, smiled.

Harry opened the letter, some muggle pictures fell out. He immediately saw that it was Hermione's neat handwriting.

Dear Harry,

Surprise! But I think you already saw me through. Yes, I am in France. Yes, the south of France. Yes, the Provence. It's like I've always dreamed it. Like I and Draco dreamed it.

It's even the house we've always dreamed of! But I don't live here alone. It's some sort of Spanish Hacienda, but we relied on Draco's heritage to buy it. Now I've got a housemate.

Her name's Sharon, she's a muggle from the Netherlands, but I told her about the magic stuff. She thinks it's 'wicked'. Remember how Ron used to say that? How is he? I'm not sending him a letter, because he would tottaly freak out when I told him I'm in France. When he asks, tell him that I'm okay and that he'll soon hear from me. When he asks.

Along with this letter, I'm sending you some pictures Sharon and I took. They're muggle pictures. I haven't got a wizard camera, and of course Sharon neither. I wanted to show you the house. You are such a good friend. Thank you for everything; everything you've ever done for me.

Well, when you've got any questions, feel free to ask! And you can come anytime you want (read: as soon as possible!.) I'm sure you would like Sharon. Thank you again, for everything.

From France with love,

Hermione

Harry smiled and took up the pictures. Hermione on a balcony, in a kitchen, in a living room,... The last one was a picture of Hermione and a good-looking girl with long, black hair and dark eyes, standing in front of lavenderfield, the hair of the girl's floating on the wind.

Maybe he would go to visit them next month. Suddenly, he took up one of the pictures.

It was a picture of Hermione, standing in a hall. Sharon, with the camera, could be seen in a mirror on Hermione's left. And on her rigth... Harry held the picture in the bright sunlight.

Next to Hermione stood a man, of her age. His blond hair fell over his grey eyes, and he had his arm around Hermione's waist. He saw something silver on the ring finger. He took a quick peek at the other pictures. On every picture, he could see the... was it a ghost? No. It was a memory.

Harry smiled, Hermione and Draco, finally together.

The memories are so alive...

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