No, your eyes aren't deceiving you, it is a Draconian update! Double update because it's 6th Feb, my birthday! For you readers — that story is officially done! (Which you can read in full for free, you know, if you just watch ads to earn coins...)

What this means is great news for you Draconian readers, because updates will now be ! I usually like to update on Fridays/weekends (today is a one-off), so please feel free to give me a little nudge if I forget. And after this will be the long-anticipated — which will feature all major characters from this story. Whoever's still alive, that is.

Also really — I've received some messages from people concerned that I'm not writing any of my original fiction anymore. I appreciate the concern, but there's no need to worry. I've spent years writing for comments and approval. It's been a difficult habit to kick, so lately I've been trying this thing where I write offline, for myself, and post a new story only when I'm done with it.

Well, I'm almost 3/4 through my next project, and trust me, it's a big one. It's something many of you have been waiting for a long time.

xNoelle

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Slashes target.

Ron were the last to return that night. Neville excused himself, saying that he had to report back to let Shacklebolt know he was fine. After Neville apparated off, Draco headed into the kitchen to treat his wounds.

Ron followed him, begrudging respect on his face as he surveyed Draco. "I still think you're a prick, by the way," he said. "But what you did for Neville tonight - I really appreciate that."

"Save it, Weasel, McGonagall sent us on the mission," Draco returned, frowning at the way the sleeve of his jacket was matted to the dried blood on his arm. "Diffindo." The sleeve ripped to shreds, and he tugged it off, before running his arm under the tap.

"Yeah, but you could've died protecting Neville. Most of the curses those Death-Eaters used were lethal ones." Ron paused, dragging a lengthy sigh out before looking back up again. "You think I could be a part of your team?"

Draco's lips twitched. "Why, Weasel - "

"Don't be a prick about it, Malfoy."

"Force of habit." Draco smirked, reaching over to the shelf to grab several phials of blood-replenishing potions, tossing one to Ron. "How do I know if I can trust you?"

Ron shrugged and reached into the pocket of his jacket. Leaning over, he placed something on the kitchen counter. When he drew back, Draco saw the Resurrection Stone sitting on the counter, the familiar shard of silver glinting under the dim ceiling light.

"I don't know if I can trust you either," Ron replied evenly. "But Hermione seems to, and that's good enough for me."

Draco paused. He couldn't sworn he heard a faint rustle somewhere close, but he couldn't be entirely sure. Turning back to Ron, he gave a short nod. "Okay."

"Really?"

"Don't look so bloody hopeful, Weasel, it's not like I agreed to marry you."

"I'm already regretting this." Ron rolled his eyes and began to head out of the kitchen.

"Weasley."

Ron turned; evidently surprised by the fact that Draco had called him by his surname instead of his general diminutive nickname.

"Granger seems to think very highly of you, regardless of how much she can remember," Draco said quietly. "She'll be glad to know that you're on her side."

Ron blinked. And blinked again. And blinked several more times.

"For Salazar's sake, if you fucking cry - "

"You couldn't stay nice for ten seconds? Bloody bipolar ferret." Ron scowled, glancing away and dragging the sleeve of his jacket roughly across his eyes. "See you tomorrow, Malfoy."

"Don't you dare return - "

But Ron had already apparated off and Draco was left alone in the kitchen.

Or perhaps not completely alone.

He leaned back against the counter, tilting his head as he studied the kitchen counter carefully. Crossing the kitchen in three strides, he reached out, fingers gripping tightly around the fabric that he felt just inches above the kitchen counter. He dragged the Cloak away, tossing it to the side, and Hermione blinked. She'd barely caught a glimpse of his tousled blond hair and flashing silver eyes before his lips were on hers.

Her eyes fell shut, and then he was kissing her fervently, nipping at her lips again and again and again until she could barely keep count. His fingers carded through her tangled brown locks and she heard the low, satisfied hum deep in his throat when she snapped out of her surprise and began to kiss him back eagerly, sliding her tongue lightly against his when his lips parted.

But he was pulling back all too soon, their breaths clashing as a hairsbreadth separated them. "I'm sorry," he said, almost brokenly, and she felt her chest clench at his voice. "You have no idea how fucking sorry I am, Hermione."

Hermione pulled back, lifting her palm up to rest against his bruised cheek. "What're you apologising for?"

"For the Cruciatus you took earlier. I should've been there, I shouldn't have bloody apparated off and I should've fucking killed that bastard before he - "

She raised her other hand to his other cheek, lifting his head so that his gaze was locked on hers. "Draco," she said softly, "it wasn't your fault."

"But - "

"I mean it. I know you want to keep me safe and I appreciate that. I want to keep you safe too and, frankly, if I could, never let you out of my sight. I'd portkey the both of us out of here to some place far away, where nothing, no hex, no curse, no spell can ever harm us again." She reached for one of his hands, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles, the same way she'd done so long ago, before meeting his eyes. "But it's a war. It's a war and sometimes you're going to come back with bruises and sometimes I'm going to come back with scars. Getting hurt is just an occupational hazard."

"You're throwing my words back at me." His eyes narrowed when he remembered what he'd once said to her months ago.

"I am."

He was silent for a long moment. And then he exhaled, his forehead resting against hers as he shut his eyes. "You know I can't lose you again," he mumbled, his voice low and almost inaudible.

"Never. I'm here," she reached up to sift her fingers through his blond hair, before pressing her other palm against his chest, right above his heart, "and here," she promised, leaning forward, her lips ghosting a kiss on his. "Always."

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Andromeda returned the next morning, looking equal parts exhausted and worried. Neville was with her, the dark circles around his eyes suggesting that he hadn't slept all night. Ron, on the other hand, looked refreshed and alert.

Hermione, who was an early riser, greeted them cheerfully before getting up to boil a pot of tea for them. "Is the Order alright?" She inquired, after hugging Andromeda. The older woman seemed relieved to see her, and returned the hug with equal force.

"They're fine, for the time being," said Andromeda. "Shacklebolt's busy recruiting as many people as he can. And Neville's due to make a public speech sometime this afternoon."

"Really, Neville?" Hermione smiled at her friend, who looked embarrassed.

"Well - I'm not a fan of public speeches, but I couldn't say no."

"It's inevitable because he's the face of the Order," Andromeda explained, reaching across the table to pat Neville's arm. "Just read the cue cards that Arthur made for you and you'll be fine."

Hermione's ears perked up at the familiar name, and she turned to Ron. "Your father?"

Ron grinned. "Yeah, he's one of the leaders of the Order."

"How is he?"

"He's well, Hermione, he and the rest of the family. I told him that you probably wouldn't like to see too many people at once, so he and my Mum have been delaying coming over to visit."

Hermione gave Ron a grateful nod. She did want to see the rest of the Weasleys, but it was already difficult trying to reconnect with so many of her old friends. Harry had been easy to talk to, and she'd warmed up to Luna. But Ginny, Ron and Neville were still three jumbled puzzles that she had to sort through, seven years of forgotten friendships that she had to catch up with.

"...so will you be coming?"

Hermione looked blankly at Neville, belatedly realising that he was talking to her. "What?"

Neville grinned. "I was asking if you wanted to come hear my speech. It's just at one of the other bases. The whole Order will be there. Harry and Ginny already agreed to go."

"I'll be going too," interjected Ron.

"Oh." Hermione faltered, wondering if she could get Draco and the other Slytherins to come along with her. "Um - "

"It'd be nice to have support. I'm very nervous in front of big crowds."

When put that way, how could she possibly say no? "Okay."

"Great," Neville's eyes lit up and he got to his feet. "I should probably get going. Have to practice in front of the mirror."

"You could practice in front of Teddy and Grus," Andromeda offered.

"Oh, great, that works too." And Neville immediately went to find the two of them, with Andromeda in tow as she led him to the sitting room. Moments later, his voice was echoing through the hallway as he delivered an enthusiastic, passionate speech to Andromeda, the toddler and the house-elf in one of the rooms.

Ron and Hermione exchanged amused looks. Then Ron sighed; his previously cheery look faltering rapidly and Hermione raised her eyebrows in concern, watching him with keen perceptiveness. "Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?" She asked.

"Actually - yes," he admitted. His gaze flickered up and locked on hers. "But before you say anything, just let me get it all out, because I don't know if I'll ever have the courage to repeat myself. Honestly, I'm just so terribly sorry about what I did - "

"Ron." She reached across the table to still his hands, where his fingers were drumming an erratic beat on the table. "You can tell me anything."

He took a deep breath and told her. Everything. From the moment the war was lost, to the moment he lost her. From the first spell that knocked her off the broom to the spell that knocked her life off its course. His words were interspersed with awkward coughs and shaky breaths and clammy hands as he reached over to grasp her fingers, blue eyes wide and pleading for her to understand. His guilt was palpable, the remorse crushing and by the end of it, he was just a shaking, haggard mess struggling to breathe.

She smiled when he was done. Her eyes were teary at his confession, but there wasn't an ounce of anger as she laced her fingers with his. "Ron - "

"Hey, Red, what's for breakfast - "

Hermione's head snapped up. Theo had just entered the kitchen with Draco following at a more leisurely pace some distance behind him. She didn't miss the way Theo's mouth fell open in surprise, or the way Draco froze by the doorway.

"What's going on?" Theo all but demanded, his eyes quickly dipping down to her fingers that were intertwined with Ron's. "Red, what the hell are you doing?"

"Not now, Theo," she said calmly, as Ron turned away in embarrassment. He tried to pull away from her grasp but she kept a firm hold on him. In spite of the fact that she'd forgotten Ron, she knew that he was one of the most important in her life, and therefore took precedence in a situation such as this. "Come back in fifteen minutes."

"But Red - "

"Not now, Theo, please."

Her voice gave no leeway for arguments, and Theo exited the room with an annoyed huff. She met Draco's gaze and, to her surprise, he didn't seem angry at all - simply curious. His silver-eyed gaze sharpened, a silent look exchanged between them, and she knew all at once that he was perfectly aware of what Ron had just told her.

"Fifteen minutes," she repeated, and he nodded before leaving the kitchen. Picking up her wand, she cast a quick Muffliato before turning back to the subdued wizard sitting opposite her. "Ron - the truth is," she paused, worrying her lip lightly before she continued, "I know."

Ron's eyes flew to hers. "What?"

"I know. Well, suspected it, really, but when am I ever wrong?" She grinned, before straightening her face again and pressing on. "I guessed it when I was going through Draco's library some months ago - reading up about memory charms and such. I figured it had to be a poorly-performed Obliviate charm, only I didn't know who did it."

"Merlin, how are you not mad at me?"

She looked startled. "Am I supposed to be?"

"Preferably not. Though I wouldn't blame you if you were," he added.

"Well, no," she mused thoughtfully, "I'm honestly not. Look, I understand why you did it. You wanted to keep me safe. I would've done it to myself too. It was the most rational solution at that point."

Ron seemed overwhelmed all of a sudden, and he ducked his head down, swallowing hard. "Thanks, 'Mione."

With a chuckle, she went around the table and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. With the rest of the D.A., it had been awkward - but somehow, with Ron and Harry, affectionate gestures like these were easier. "We're okay," she said, smiling when he returned the hug tightly.

After awhile, she pulled back and took a step away, but he stopped her unexpectedly. "There's something else." When she turned around to face him, he faltered for a moment before gathering his courage. "If you hadn't lost your memories - or if you had regained your memories of me, us, sooner...do you ever think you could have - we could have..."

His sentence remained unfinished but the implications were clear. Hermione's gaze instinctively drifted over to the living room, honing in on the blonde wizard who was chatting with Theo. Theo had probably made one of his witty remarks again, and she watched as an amused smirk bloomed on Draco's face, his silver eyes glinting in good humour and his posture relaxed.

"I think I know your answer," Ron said quietly, following the line of Hermione's vision. She shot him an apologetic look and he shook his head, shrugging good-naturedly. "It's alright, 'Mione, it's been three years and I'm over it. But a subconscious part of me had always wondered, you know?"

Hermione did know. Because Draco had wondered the same thing previously, so it wasn't too far-fetched a notion. But the notion was quickly obliterated when Draco, as though sensing someone's gaze on him, randomly turned his head in their direction. His eyes locked on hers and his lips twitched in a tiny smile before he turned back to Theo.

And she realised, then, that there was no more room for what-ifs or could've-beens. All that mattered now was the present and, perhaps, the future - which, in spite of the devastating war, now glittered brighter than ever with Draco Malfoy in the spotlight.

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"Granger, I'm not sure how Muggle relationships work, but I'd like a breakup - assuming that's the correct term for it?"

Hermione turned to Draco, her lips twitching in amusement. He'd been more than indifferent about going to Neville's speech and had ignored all her passionate speeches about how supporting their friends were important. Finally, Hermione had threatened to go with Ron instead.

Draco had caved. Immediately.

After Harry and Ginny had arrived, the eight of them joined the crowd that was making their way to the public square just a short distance from the Order's base. There were random citizens eager to aid the Order, but Draco remained unenthusiastic throughout.

"That is the correct term for it," Hermione humoured him now, trying to keep a straight face. "And might I ask why?"

"For using the Weasel as a scare tactic. Although, I have to admit that that was a very Slytherin move," he added, after a pause.

"Well, I learnt from the best. Still want a breakup?"

"To hell with it," he shook his head. "I'm going nowhere."

She smiled. "Good."

The two of them soon caught up with the others. The Order members were welcoming Harry, Ginny and Luna with open arms. It was clear to see that Harry, despite having lost the war, was still some sort of hero in their eyes, and he was quickly accosted by his friends. Ginny and Luna were also quickly lost within the crowd, leaving the four Slytherins and Hermione standing at the back of the square, looking rather out of place.

Draco was aware of the many suspicious glances cast their way, and he met each stare evenly with his stone-cold grey eyes. Some of the D.A. members were waving Hermione over and he nudged her. "You can go if you want to, Granger."

"Who said I wanted to go anywhere?" She returned indignantly, sounding every bit like the stubborn, fiery-tempered witch back during her Hogwarts days. "I'm staying right here with you." She dragged his arm around her waist firmly, ignoring the blatant stares of surprise from the people around them.

"Oh, look, they're making Harry go up there." Pansy pointed to the makeshift podium up ahead, where Hagrid was pushing Harry up.

Harry's presence brought a resounding cheer to the crowd as he reluctantly took his place next to Ron, who seemed to be on guard to the right of the stage. Shacklebolt and Mundungus Fletcher were standing on opposite sides of Neville. Once the place was silent, Shacklebolt began to introduce Neville, whose face was white as a sheet.

Theo surveyed the proceedings with a mischievous grin on his face. "Do you think it'd be entirely inappropriate if I shot Longbottom with a Tarantellegra?"

Hermione pulled Theo's hand down when he began to lift his wand. "Theo!"

"Aw, Red, you're ruining my fun," Theo whined, only to be shushed by Blaise as Neville began his speech.

Neville cleared his throat, looking out at the hundred over faces that stared expectantly back at him. He cast a Sonorous spell on his throat so that his voice was amplified across the square, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Today is a very special day," Neville began, looking more confident now. "We're gathered here for a common cause. For the past three years, we've lived in fear, wondering if each day would be our last. But today, I say: no more hiding - "

Theo rolled his eyes. "Are my ears bleeding? Because I think - "

"Theo, shut up for a bit," Draco said, causing the others to look at him. He'd been staring up at the sky for almost half a minute now, a frown on his face and a sudden stiffness to his posture. Something was different. The air was unusually still, the perfect calm before a terrifying storm.

Blaise took out his wand, and the others quickly followed. But as Hermione reached into her satchel to make sure her Cloak was there, she noticed something that made her gasp. "Draco! Look at your Mark!"

True enough, Draco's Mark had darkened to a shade of the most sinister black. And then, mere seconds later, Draco felt a sharp, searing pain through his arm. "Fuck," he gasped, grasping onto Theo beside him. Hermione quickly gave him a numbing potion, along with a blood-replenishing one.