Draco would always remember the looks he and Hermione got when they walked into the Great Hall for breakfast the day after they left the medical ward. The rumour about them being an item had clearly spread during the time he had spent sitting by Hermione's sickbed, and everyone seemed quite anxious for some proof. The look Hermione gave him clearly stated she was thinking the same thing he was: 'let's give them some proof'.

If Hogwarts had a yearbook, that proof would have gone in it as 'most passionate public display of affection of the year'.

People cried (like Pansy), people smiled (like Ginny), people gagged (like Snape), people fell out of their chairs (like Neville) and some people just ogled while hoping that their food wouldn't fall out of their mouths (like the Creevy brothers).

Now Draco was on his own and loose from manipulation from his father, several other Slytherins seemed less frightful of cutting loose themselves. Turning away ones family isn't easy, but it helps if you can do it with support of others who are going through the same.

Draco had to admit, it was a lot easier having his relationship with Hermione out in the open. Sure, most of the Slytherins kept giving him 'What were you thinking?'-looks, but he didn't care. Now he could at least snog her in the hallways without fear of being jumped by some angry overprotecting Gryffindor. And no one would ask them any questions when they totally wouldn't immerge from their rooms on a day off.

Partially because they probably didn't want to know the answers.

Potter and Weasley were actually quite supportive about their relationship. Draco supposed that most of it was because he saved their hides and had shown where his loyalties lied by standing up to his father. They had actually chosen never to tell anyone about the Crusciatus-curse he had performed on Harry, which he was very grateful for. It was catalogued and filed as 'desperate measure under extreme circumstances' and got never spoken of again. Before the end of the year Draco stood next to them in the final battle which permanently marked Voldemorts defeat. That same night was also the night Draco that faced down his father. Let's just say that he won't be a bother to anyone anymore.

At the end of the year Draco was kind of sad to leave Quidditch behind. Whenever he wasn't playing against Gryffindor he actually excelled at the game. And there was the other thing; after the first Slytherin game of the season he had found himself tackled by Hermione and dragged behind a nearby bush not to reappear for 10 minutes. Apparently the Quidditch gear made the girl lose her marbles. She said it had something to do with the leather.

Not that he was complaining.

And he had made damn sure to nick the uniform home with him.

After graduation both Draco and Hermione went into Auror training while they shared an apartment in the centre of London. Draco had been appalled when Hermione absolutely refused to get a House-Elf. She didn't even want a maid. And because she had more feminist-speeches up her sleeve than anyone he had ever known, he was forced to do his share of the housework.

Bossy wench!

He quickly came to the conclusion that he hated doing dishes, but didn't object to cooking. Sure, his provisions mostly did consist of pre-cooked meals, but food is food.

After a while he had actually gotten back in touch with his mother. After being freed from his father, it seemed like she herself had been liberated from her personal cage. She and Draco had met up for dinner one evening and had tried talking things trough. Their relationship was still rather uneasy, but it was developing. Narcissa had never even openly objected to Draco living with a Muggle born.  He was sure that it wasn't an easy thing for her to digest. He'd never see her becoming very close to Hermione, but at least she was trying.

A year after Auror training he and Hermione got married. When he had popped the question she had been stunned to say the least. After a half an hour of shocked silence (it felt that long at least) she actually asked him to repeat the question for her. The girl couldn't believe her ears; Draco Malfoy popping the question, wanting to tie himself down to one girl for the rest of his life. Sounds crazy when you put it that way, doesn't it? Well, when Draco realised that he really couldn't imagine himself to be with anyone else than Hermione, it didn't sound all that crazy to him. Luckily she said 'yes' and agreed to be Misses Malfoy (in a matter of speaking, since after the initial engagement-buzz she had made it quite clear that she was keeping her own name). 

It rained on their wedding day off course, which was quite typical but not surprising since they lived in England after all. Hermione had a bit of a fit before the ceremony because she'd be needing an extra flagon of hair-straightner because the humidity was making her hair extra frizzy. It took a slight delay of thirty minutes, but it was worth it. Draco thought that she looked like one of those little people on the wedding cake. It came as a surprise to many, but Draco had actually asked the Weasel (as he still liked to call him to get a rise out of him for sport) to be his best man at the ceremony.  He sort of figured that it was the decent thing to do, having nicked Hermione from under his nose in the first place. Draco had informed Hermione long ago that Ron had asked her out while he was in her body and she seemed to have been quite relieved that Draco had been the one to deal with the awkward situation.  Apparently she wasn't only a bossy, but also a lazy wench.

For their honeymoon they went a month in Thailand. The first two weeks they had spent travelling through the country and the other two they had spend on a tiny little tropical island (which they barely even saw since they spend most of their time in their room). Draco still couldn't get over the fact that people freely ate bugs. Fried or alive, it was disgusting to him either way. And whenever they went outside Hermione kept making fun of him because he insisted on fully covering himself with sun block every two minutes.  Draco kept persisting that he had pale and sensitive skin so it was necessary.  If she was expecting him to start sporting freckles she had another thing coming.

Draco still didn't like the idea of Hermione getting herself in danger which, with being an Auror and all, wasn't all that uncommon. There still was a lot of cleaning up to do after Voldemorts defeat. There were still quite a few Rogue Death Eaters to catch and Draco, with his past connections, had been quite a helping hand in that task. He had actually been partnered up with Potter who had chosen to become an Auror himself. Quite the bickering team they made, but a good one regardless. He supposed it was a good thing not to have his wife as a partner, since he probably would me more preoccupied with her safety than with the task at hand. Though he figured that Hermione having been teamed up with Weasley was about the second best thing to having her followed by a guard dog. At least as long as Weasley decided to keep his paws to himself, or Draco would see himself forced to go Old Yeller on him.

And now -three years after their marriage, both at the age of 24- Draco was watching Hermione sleep as he lovingly ran his hand over her swollen tummy. Their firstborn was expected somewhere around the end of August. Draco had been quite surprised to realise that –having been cut loose from the burden of supplying a Malfoy heir- he actually still wanted a child. Hermione had been quite peeved that she was on forced inactivity and had been restricted to paperwork. But, as usual, that was another job she excelled in, as much as she didn't like sitting on her bum all day.

Draco didn't really care if it would become a boy or a girl. If it was a boy and he would go to Hogwarts, Draco hoped he would become Head Boy so he would be able to share the experiences he had and perhaps find the girl of his dreams.

And if it were a girl, he'd make damn sure she wasn't going to become Head girl, because he'd be damned if some raunchy teenager was going to put his filthy hands on his daughters body.

And no matter how hard Hermione would try to counterargument; Draco had made silent pact with himself to wholeheartedly refuse to see the irony of this very statement.

"Damn teenage pervs!" he mumbled as cuddled himself closer to Hermione, gave her a light but affectionate kiss on the forehead and went to try and get some sleep himself.

The End

That's all folks. I hope you liked the ending. Please Review and I hope to see you all again when posting my next fic, whenever that'll be. 


Padfoot the Marauder.