The Bachelor Chapter 15
One month had passed since the show. The thought randomly popped into Hermione's mind as she slaved over a new potion that she had thrown herself into shortly after her return.
Exhausted, she looked around the comfortable lab. Around her, employees and co-workers scuttled around busily, tending to all the different potions that were being developed. Hermione briefly wondered if Professor Snape had ever considered a career in a potions lab. Now normally, Hermione was the one sitting in the office tending to business aspects, but today she'd decided to do some much needed work in the lab.
Namely, she wanted to get her thoughts off the past and focused into tasks in front of her. It had been an entire month, and still, every single day, she would remember at least three things about him.
"Hermione," someone called, pulling her out of her silly little reverie.
"Hmm?" she looked up. Edel Voss, her junior assistant, was sending her an odd look.
"It's two o' clock, Saturday afternoon. You know we close early on Saturdays. And you never come to work on Saturday anyway! Why have you been throwing yourself into all of this lately?"
Lucky for her Edel didn't watch television. "Oh right," Hermione grinned sheepishly, deciding to evade his question. "I'll just pack up and go on home. Have a good one, Edel. Say hi to the wife for me, okay? And tell little Jennifer that as promised, I will give her a tour of the potions lab…umm, next week should be good."
"Will do," Edel smiled back at her.
As promised, Hermione packed up, slowly, methodically, because her thoughts were once again wrapped around a blonde haired Slytherin—not literally, mind you. She hadn't heard from him since the show, and she supposed that that was the best approach anyhow.
She'd tried the rebound.
She really had. She'd agreed to set-ups at the hands of Harry and Ron, something she never wanted to experience again. It was like a repeat performance of the dates of pre-Bachelor era. After going through countless chews-with-his-mouth-opens, too-full-of-himselves, smells-like-he's-been-eating-cow-dungs, and many, many more, Hermione had had enough. She'd politely declined any of Harry and Ron's future attempts at finding her a mate, pointing out that they should be spending more time on their own love lives.
Speaking of, they were actually both doing very well in that area. Ron was engaged to Luna Lovegood, something unexpected but at the same time quite brilliant. They were obviously so very much in love…and it was just as lovely as…Hermione frowned as jealousy ran its horrid little course through her.
It wasn't as if she wanted to be in love and engaged and having the time of her life.
She didn't want that at all.
Not one little bit.
Harry had been dating on and off, and just a few weeks ago had bumped into Ron's younger sister Ginny. The two of them had hit it off immediately and Hermione was fairly sure that Harry was done dating on and off. He'd found The One.
And in her mind, The One was always capital.
Everyone had a "The One" somewhere. It took a lot of searching, but in the end, The One was always found.
Draco had just been a minor deterrence from her hunt for The One.
But if that was true, why did she keep thinking about him? And not in a negative way, either?
As she packed up the lab, she delved into the memory of coming home. Harry and Ron had been absolutely shocked when they'd seen the episode, which had been broadcasted live.
When she had returned home, both Harry and Ron had been waiting for her in her immaculate flat. In shock she had dropped her bags and screamed.
"It's just us, Hermione," Ron said very gently, as if she was so fragile that a loud voice could break her.
"Boys, listen," she'd begun; not really wanting to discuss what she knew was on the agenda.
"No, Hermione, we have to talk about this," Harry had stated firmly. "Just remember we love you very, very much and that you are a very…er, worthy girl, and just because that scumbag didn't choose you, doesn't mean that another man won't."
"You're very pretty and you are too good for him," Ron had added as an afterthought.
Her mouth was agape from surprise. "Please don't tell me you two are attempting a heart-to-heart girl talk with me."
Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged. "Er, we thought you might want one," Ron finally admitted. "And honestly, we were just so shocked when he didn't pick you…"
"I honestly don't want to talk about this," Hermione repeated, slouching down onto her sofa, hoping some of its comfort would sooth her frayed nerves (and heart, although she wouldn't admit it).
"Hermione, when the cameras interviewed him before the night, he said he was very, very sure in the girl he was going to pick," Harry explained earnestly.
"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" she'd grumbled. "So he led me on the whole time. I can't believe I ever fancied him! What an awful, awful, awful man!" She had brushed her eyes quickly, not wanting to cry in front of Harry and Ron.
"I wholeheartedly agree," Ron sympathized. "We'll kill him. We promise."
"Ron!" Harry had silenced. "Hermione," he tried again, "he was going to pick you. Everything pointed to it. He wouldn't say anything, of course, since it's bastard Malfoy after all, but honestly, he didn't like Hannah. He was really going to pick you, right up till the end. Then I suppose he fucked up."
Hermione laughed bitterly. "And that he did," she agreed. "I never want to see him again. Never. In fact I'm glad he ended it where he ended it. It would've been worse if I'd actually let myself feel for him…even love him. I'm glad I didn't."
Harry and Ron exchanged looks that Hermione could only interpret as dubious. Glaring at them she ushered them out. "I'm tired," she excused herself, "and I've had a long, miserable six weeks. I'd like some peace and quiet."
Now, Hermione realized, it had been an entire month since that conversation. In that month, she had suffered through countless blind dates, a bruised ego, and a lot of dreams about him. But slowly, surely, and oddly, the anger she had originally felt towards him had ebbed.
It didn't mean that she was suddenly all okay with being rejected on national television and stuck into the wizard tabloids, with headlines proclaiming, "Brains over Beauty? Not for Draco Malfoy".
That had hurt, especially since she'd only begun to appreciate him because of the way he provided some intellectual stimulation. But she'd ignored rumors in her years at Hogwarts, purposefully ignored nay-sayers when she proved that as a Muggleborn she was just as talented as any other wizard, if not more so, and she would do it now. Nobody would see her hurt. Nobody.
She unlocked her flat and entered the neat home, sighing. Dropping her things unceremoniously on a counter top, Hermione walked into her bedroom and changed into a more comfortable outfit—ironically, one of the robes she had purchased for the show. A flowing, so-light-it-was-nearly-white pink robe that she had once thought was uncomfortable had grown on her so much that it had become one of the most comfortable clothing items that she owned.There had been other changes too. Hermione had spent a little bit more time on her looks so her features were always accentuated in the best way possible. It was minimal, but as proved the old adage, "less is more".
She supposed it was just impossible to have lived with twenty-five superficial girls and come away from it unscathed.
There was nothing she had to do today, now that she'd been shoved out of her own workplace. Ginny had tried to set her up tonight, but she'd declined, pointing out that none of her previous attempts had worked and there was a high chance this wouldn't either. "I'll do this on my own," Hermione had said resolutely. "I brought myself into this warped situation and I will take myself out."
Hermione flipped on her television, which in the last four years had already become a staple in wizard homes. Granted, it was slightly different, emitting a soft green light (magical aura), so that the people in it had a greenish tinge, but that was all right. Wizard Broadcasting was by far the most watched channel. Then again, there were only three channels total—Daily Prophet Network, more commonly known as DPN, which offered the latest news, Quidditch Extra, popular with most members of the wizarding male species (especially as it offered such shows such as Extreme Quidditch and Quidditch Idol), and then of course Wizard Broadcasting, which appealed to all ages with shows ranging from Harry Potter Adventures, popular with the under-twelve set, and Steamy Spells, which really appealed to those who had, er, vivid imaginations.
And then of course, there was The Bachelor, Wizard Broadcasting's most popular show, but Hermione didn't want to think about it.
An announcement on Wizard Broadcasting caught her attention and brought her back to the present. "And now, a WizTV first! Yes, the event that we've all been looking forward to…the much-awaited wedding of our Bachelor couple, televised for you all to see! Draco Malfoy, son of the influential Lucius Malfoy and social butterfly Narcissa Malfoy marries Hannah Abbott, a beautiful high-class debutante, daughter of the prominent Ellen Abbott and her husband, Daniel Abbott…"
Hermione froze. Her hand gripped the remote so tightly that she was afraid it would crack. They were getting married?!
Of course they were getting married. For the first two weeks after she'd returned, Hermione had refused to even think about what Draco and Hannah's future was, but slowly she'd let herself imagine it. She just hadn't expected it to be so soon.
As she stared at the scene in front of her, the wedding preparations were being made. Up came an interview with Hannah. "I'm just thrilled," Hannah squealed, looking pretty in a soft yellow bathrobe (she had just stepped out of the shower and was about to don her bride gear). "It was a bit rough at first," she admitted, "but now it's lovely. Our parents approve of the match and we are just so delighted!"
Something hot and fiery raced through Hermione's veins. Some distant, logical part of her brain pinpointed it as jealousy, but right now her emotions were controlling her.
He was getting married to Hannah. One of the easiest ways to get over him had been to think that, well, at least she hadn't really been bested by Hannah. She knew he'd proposed, but some part of her just kept waiting to hear of their break-up.
It was not going to happen.
Hermione felt stinging tears in her eyes and brushed them away. Why was she so upset over this? She'd shed things over many trivial matters, but… somehow this seemed important.
How could he affect her so badly? She'd never expected her to fall so badly for a boy… and there was only one explanation. She didn't just fancy him.
She wanted him to be happy. If marrying Hannah was going to make him happy, then that was the way it was going to be.
She would be strong. She would be Hermione Granger. It was for the better, anyway, that they weren't together. He was right. It simply wouldn't work. He was Draco Malfoy and she was Hermione Granger.
And even if the rest of the world fell away, he was still Draco and she was Hermione. Hermione Malfoy even sounded strange (a lie. She thought it sounded lovely).
The truth was, she loved him, and she wanted him to be happy.
"Well," Hermione mumbled to herself, "I suppose everyone has a first love. But not everyone gets to be with him… I'll find number two," she promised herself.
Turning her attention back to the television, Hermione debated whether or not she should continue watching. It was simply emotional torture to see the man you loved wed someone else on primetime WizTV. And, not to mention, it was a long show, with the ceremony not even starting until six p.m. Right now, it was only three-thirty.
Soon she realized that she hadn't even seen a glimpse of the groom-to-be. He simply hadn't been mentioned since that moment that their wedding plans had been announced. The camera was focused on Hannah getting ready and excitedly telling the bridesmaids that the ceremony was going to be absolutely perfect.
Hermione recognized one of the bridesmaids, Eloise Midgen. She remembered that Eloise had been on the show, too, at the very beginning. Eloise didn't look sad in the least.
Then again, Eloise hadn't made it past the first round. Eloise wasn't in love with the groom. Eloise didn't have to see someone else marry him.
Grimly, Hermione turned off the television.
She didn't need to subject herself to this. Picking up her wizmobile, she slowly dialed the digits of Harry's mobile. "Hello?" he picked up.Hermione kept silent for a moment, and then as if in slow motion hung up. She didn't know why. At first she thought an afternoon out with her friends would cure her of this melancholy, but after hearing Harry's cheery hello Hermione had suddenly decided that she couldn't see anyone today.
She'd suffer alone.
She glanced outside and her gaze met clear blue skies. Deciding that the only way to shake the blues off was to walk in perfect weather, Hermione smiled and put on a brave face, and then stepped out, drenching herself in the warm sunshine.
Draco Malfoy sat outside in one of the expensive chairs placed on the lawns. The sprawling grounds belonged to a famous wizard park just outside of Hogsmeade Village. Hannah had proclaimed it utterly perfect and beautiful and "the most romantic place we could ever get married".
In all honesty, he couldn't care less. It wasn't as if Hannah was a bad match. She was quite pretty, vivacious, and friendly. His parents liked her, and although Narcissa had been very surprised when he'd picked her, she'd quickly swallowed any feelings of unease and thrown herself into wedding preparations. His father, he knew, didn't really care who he picked, so it was alright from that angle as well.
But there was one little thing that niggled constantly at the back of Draco's mind. The thought plagued him day after day, every day, and he just couldn't stop thinking about it.
She wasn't Hermione.
Hannah was great, but she wasn't Hermione. Hermione was different. Hermione was inexplicable. He hadn't let himself think about Hermione since that night…but, he decided; now he could. Draco didn't quite know how he felt for her, but judging by the fact that he thought about her everyday and regretted quite completely his last-minute decision, the feelings were strong.
He had meant to pick her. When she'd walked down that red carpet towards him, he'd felt nervous—something he'd never, in all his life, felt towards a girl (excluding pre-teen years. They just didn't count. And he'd had a very, very mild case of acne, something he would not mention even under wandpoint).
She had looked beautiful.
Even at that point, he was all for asking her. And then he'd started and he had remembered everything that had seemed to melt into the background during the show. The simple fact that he was Draco Malfoy and she was Hermione Granger. He had disliked her immensely at school, and even after, he hadn't thought about her very much (save a few times when she'd received awards and he'd felt something akin to jealousy).
There was just so much history behind them. What would the rest of the people in his life say? Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Sally Anne Perks, all the Malfoy relatives, even to some extent, his parents? What would they all say to her? Would they treat her the way she deserved to be treated?
After all, marriage was permanent.
When he asked Hannah to marry him, he thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting Hermione from the possible wrath of those who still believed in pureblood supremacy, those who still counted the fact that she was once a Gryffindor, those who would hold Potter and Weasley against her.
And he wasn't quite sure he wasn't one of them. He wasn't quite sure if he could forget her heritage, her family, her friends. Marriage wasn't just a joining of two people, it was a joining of two lives.
Their lives would undoubtedly clash.
A month ago, he hadn't thought about the possibility that maybe their lives would adapt. Maybe their lives would mold.
One month ago, he realized suddenly, he had been a coward. His father would sneer in disgust at the thought. Draco had rejected the girl he felt nervous around, the girl he couldn't stop thinking about, the girl that gave him a sick swoop in his stomach…because he wasn't sure he could handle it.
Now when he looked back on it, Draco felt sick that he could even do something like that.
"We'd appreciate if you gave an interview, Mr. Malfoy," someone interrupted his thoughts.
He glanced up in surprise and was unreservedly puzzled when a cameraman looked back at him steadily. "You know, for the wedding," the cameraman explained.
"Oh, right, that," Draco, who had for the first time properly allowed himself to think of Hermione, had in the process completely forgotten about the important upcoming event.
"Yes?" the cameraman prompted, positioning the camera on him.
"You know," Draco suddenly said, "I'm not getting married. I'll be right back."
Abruptly, he stood up, leaving behind a bewildered cameraman. He didn't know where Hannah was, and telling her that the wedding was off was something he was a little apprehensive about, but he wasn't going to choose the spineless, cowardly, gutless way out again. This time he would be strong.
This time he would listen to his instincts.
He combed the lawns in desperation, but there was no sign of Hannah. Suddenly he heard a familiar voice behind him. "Draco!"
He spun around. "Mother," he acknowledged.
"Why in the name of Merlin are you not getting ready? Your wedding is in a scant hour and a half! There is just so much to do. And with all these reporters around, it just makes it more difficult. These are the times I wish we weren't a high-profile family," she chuckled.
"Mother." Draco hadn't heard a word of what his mother had said. His thoughts were wrapped (quite literally) around Hermione. Hermione was the one girl he hadn't really done anything with on the show.
Sexist as it was, he couldn't help but think, save the best for the last.
And now he'd lost her. He'd lost the only one he had remotely cared about. He had to get her back. Even if it meant pulling the hero stunt like that blasted Potter.
"Draco? Have you been listening to me?" his mother suddenly demanded.
"No," he replied honestly, "not a word."
She looked taken aback. "What in the world are you thinking about?"
He took a deep breath. He might as well spit the truth. "Hermione."
His mother's look was one of astonishment and admonishment mixed. "Well," she frowned, "now is hardly the time to be thinking of her. You had the choice, Draco, and you picked Hannah. Please don't tell me you aren't happy with your decision."
"I'm not happy with my decision," Draco muttered. It was at times like these that he felt he truly was the spoiled brat that everyone accused him of being.
But it was different now, wasn't it? He'd realized his mistake. That was the first step, wasn't it?
His mother didn't seem to think so. "Draco," she shook her head, "You chose Hannah over Hermione. You must live with the consequences. And you know a marriage is permanent. I'd suggest you learn to like it, and forget about past mistakes."
"This is the mistake," Draco unexpectedly decided he was indeed going to go through with something, although it wasn't the marriage. "And I'm off to tell Hannah that it's not going to happen. I'm going to correct it."
He left his mother looking aghast behind him, not even waiting for a response.
Draco felt reckless as he barged into the dressing rooms. Hannah was standing there instructing some other women he didn't know on how exactly she'd like her make-up done.
Draco pitied her, but mostly, he cursed himself for doing what he was about to do. And that was breaking two women's hearts.
Hermione came back from her brisk walk in the warm weather feeling refreshed. It had cleared her thoughts and temporarily taken her mind off of him. She'd even bumped into her neighbor, Sam, walking his dog and the two of them had chatted for a few moments.
Sam was single. Who knew what could happen? Maybe Sam was The One.
She'd spent one month pining after Draco. It was definitely time to move on, and time to grow some courage. In fact she spontaneously settled, she would ask Sam on a date tomorrow.
With these thoughts in mind, Hermione was completely unprepared for the sight in front of her when she walked into her flat. Standing in front of her was the man she was about to forget. The man she was about to erase from her memories.
Draco Malfoy himself.
She couldn't help it. She screamed.
He looked panicked. "Hermione, I didn't mean to upset you," he began.
The Hermione Granger of old came roaring back. "Oh, that's rich," she snarled at him. "Well, you are upsetting me right now. I'd suggest you leave if you want to rectify that."
He looked downcast, and then looked up to meet her eyes. Try as she might, she couldn't look away at first. It took her a good ten seconds to finally be able to pull away. "What do you want?" she finally ground out.
His answer was simple and unexpected. "You."
Her heart leapt at the word, but her mind was doubtful. She couldn't take him back. Not after what he had done to her ego. Not after a rejection on national television. "I'm not some property, Malfoy," she replied quietly, dangerously. Rapidly he had become Malfoy again. The Malfoy of old had risen in her eyes, just as the Hermione of old had leapt up within her. He was still that sodding nancy boy who cried for mummy and daddy when things didn't go his way. She was still the egotistical, uncompromising stubborn little girl who simply couldn't let defeat reach her.
He moved closer, and clasped her hands. She pulled away as if she were burned. "Don't touch me."
"Okay. I won't."
A part of her was surprised that he was agreeing so readily. She tried another tactic. "Get out."
In painful resignation she sat down on her couch silently, waiting for him to explain himself. He knelt on the floor in front of her and she couldn't help but think just how cheesy this whole thing was when she suddenly remembered—
"Aren't you supposed to be at your own wedding right now?!"
He looked uncomfortable. "Yes," he answered softly. "But…I called it off."
Out of all the things she possibly expected, this was not one of them. Mouth open in shock, Hermione switched on the television to confirm his story.
"We are the first to bring you this unexpected piece of news," a reporter was shouting into the television, "the wedding between Draco Malfoy and Hannah Abbott is off! Yes, that's right, the wedding is no more. And now let's switch to some comparisons that have been made with the muggle world…"
Another reporter leapt in. "Are wizards taking on a muggle trend? Many reality television couples break apart soon after they get together on their respective shows. The split between Draco and Hannah certainly seems to show that. Wizard Broadcasting has brought in a body language expert to tell us if the relationship was doomed from day one…"
Hermione turned it off and stared at Draco, still unable to say anything.
"I know," he began awkwardly, "that that's a bit unexpected…"
"You broke her heart," Hermione whispered, looking pained. "You broke her heart."
Draco's own heart swelled with appreciation for the woman in front of him. Her first thought wasn't about the two of them, it was about Hannah—and he knew that the two of them hadn't even gotten along that well.
Hermione was white. Draco Malfoy, heartbreaker. Not only had he turned her down, he'd strung Hannah along like a puppet for his sick plans. "I can't believe you."
"I didn't break her heart," Draco explained gently. "When I told her that I couldn't go through with this…she knew. While she was understandably upset, some part of her knew all along that…I didn't love her and she didn't love me."
"Of course she loved you!" Hermione cried. "You dolt! She spent so much time just moaning about you and talking about you and wanting to be with you…and she thought she was your soul mate and…"
"She was infatuated with me," Draco corrected. "That's not what love is about. Love…you have to work at love. And, Hermione, though it pains me to say this," he stopped to take a breath and Hermione's heartbeat inadvertently doubled, "I think that I…"
He trailed off. He wasn't ready to say it and she wasn't ready to hear it.
But they both knew it, and they both knew it was true. It was mutual.
"How did you get here anyway?" she changed the subject.
Draco grinned. "Through a friend of yours. He wasn't very willing to help me, though."
Hermione laughed. "Which friend?"
"A certain Harry Potter. He threatened to castrate me, or worse, call Weasley."
"Ron would kill you," Hermione agreed.
"With two crazy—I mean, protective—men like that around you, you are never going to get a boyfriend," Draco teased.
Hermione tensed. She had half-thought that Draco had come back here because he realized what an idiot he'd been and now he wanted to fix that. She was definitely not going to agree to the scheme, but what if said scheme wasn't even on his mind?
"Hermione," he soothed, as if sensing her distress, "I've come here to apologize. I never meant to…do that. I wanted to ask you."
"But you didn't," she reminded, not unkindly, her initial hatred towards him slowly seeping out. "Look, I'll get you something to eat, or drink, I feel like a bad hostess."
"I'm hardly a guest," he laughed bitterly, "I just Alohamora'd my way in."
Hermione was inclined to agree. "But still, if you want anything…"
"No, I'm fine," Draco reassured her. "I've got to tell you the things on my mind. I mean, whether we're discussing something silly like, I dunno, bedspreads or something like magical botany or even…this, you've always been the perfect person to converse with. You're so intelligent."
She didn't say anything, and if he'd asked her to, she wouldn't know what exactly to say. How were you supposed to respond when the man who rejected you in front of a million people came back and told you that you were intelligent and he wanted you back?
That didn't happen in romance novels. In those novels, that man didn't reject you. He chose you and kissed you and made sweet love to you and your life was just heaven.
Real life, unfortunately, was a genuine disappointment after such fantasies.
"Hermione," Draco finally continued, letting his words sink in, "I made the stupidest mistake that night. I'm a right arse and I deserve to be castrated. See, I'm even agreeing with Potter," he joked half-heartedly.
She had to crack a smile.
"I was a coward," he said softly. "I wanted to tell you that night how I felt but I couldn't. I couldn't because I thought everyone else mattered. But in the end all that matters is who's involved, and nobody's involved in my affairs except well, me. And you."
"You're bordering on sappy," Hermione reminded him cheekily.
He pulled her up off the couch and grabbed her hand. "I can't believe this witch," he cried, "I tell her what's on my mind and she tells me I'm sappy?"
"Only kidding!" she laughed.
"Hermione," he took a deep breath, "I'm here to ask you, well, for a date. It won't be as fancy as a date from the Bachelor…unless you want it to be…and it won't be followed around by the cameras…but I just, I just want to…"
Hermione's betraying heart soared at the chance and cried for her to take it, but there was simply no way that her ego would let her. "I'm sorry, Draco," she sighed, "but I can't. I've moved on and I can't come back."
He looked resolute. "It took a lot of courage for me to come here. I knew I'd made the wrong decision, but I had the strength to correct my mistake. Hermione, I had to swallow my pride and come back to you. Imagine how that felt, crawling back to the girl that I had rejected. It was so humiliating, such a deep bruise on my ego, but…I did it because," he took a deep breath and rushed out with it, "I never thought I'd say it to any girl, but I love you. And so I let go, and I'm here now, and I'm actually begging—and this is also a first for me, hideous as it is—for you to forgive me."
He looked disgusted with himself.
Hermione had to stifle a giggle. "You said you loved me."
He blushed, a soft reddish tinge on his pale face. It was adorable.
"Say it again," she demanded.
"Why?" he looked reluctant.
"Because I need to hear it."
"You're a cruel, cruel woman," he scowled, "but if it means you'll forgive me, I will. I, er love you."
She knew he meant it, although he was reluctant to say it. It was just against his nature to admit something to close to his heart. Hermione realized that he had given up a lot to be with her, to rectify that night, and she couldn't just throw it back in her face.
Besides, she really did want to know how it felt like to be carried up the stairs by a roguish young man and thrown on a bed full of rose petals with soft candles lit all around (courtesy of romance novels).
"Okay," she squeezed his hand, "you're on."
And then she promptly experienced her first, proper, off-camera kiss. "Many more where that came from," he grinned snarkily, and Hermione had to resist the urge to hit him.
"I love you, you idiot," she grinned, getting the words off her chest. "And when people ask how we met…"
"We'll just tell them it was an awfully long story," he finished.
And that it was.
Final A/N: Okay, the real reasont that Draco didn't pick Hermione in the last chapter: I just had to, had to, had to make fun of the fact that reality show couples don't stay together. And of course, I didn't think that my characters were ready. Nothing like a painful seperation to make you realize things! I'm cruel, I know.
Yes! This chapter was very, very difficult to write and it took me a while. Still, I updated faster than I normally do, right?
This fic is now complete. There will probably not be a sequel, because there really isn't much left to say. I've been asked to do a The Bachelorette, but I'm not going to because I think it will be repetitive.
I'm very sad that this fic has come to an end! All of your reviews were just amazing, and if I could I'd give you all an individual thanks. I never expected such a brilliant response to my fic, and am amazed at the amount of reviews I have gotten. I love you all to bits and pieces!
I hope to see some of you in my other stories, both WIPs, "Rise and Die!" and "The Child's Atrocity". I'm also planning a short Draco/Hermione fic that I'm in the process of writing right now.
Once again, thank you. I appreciate it so much.