This is the last chapter, guys!

Western shore of the Black Lake; early afternoon
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Saturday, December 20, 1997

The biting cold of the mid-December wind sunk viciously between the layers of his heavy cloak and coat, the chill seeping down to his bones. Draco pulled his clothing tighter around him. Despite his anxiousness for their little meeting to get underway, he couldn't help but utterly loathe Hermione in that moment for her questionable choice in venue, or lack thereof.

He took a seat upon a wide, flat rock that sat close to the shore, picking at the loose stones within the weathered cracks to toss into the still, murky depths. There was a disturbance beneath the water some distance out, and he wondered quite unrepentantly to himself if he had perhaps managed to hit the Giant Squid, or possibly even a Merperson.

The ripples on the water faded into nothingness, and Draco felt thoroughly underwhelmed.

Thankfully though, Granger didn't keep him waiting long.

Their kiss last night had haunted him. In all their years of acquaintance, that kiss felt like the only right thing that had ever passed between them. Never had another set of lips felt so sodding perfect against his. Even now, as she approached him, looking ridiculously adorable in her pink and white knitted hat, adorned with a fluffy ball on top, his eyes were immediately drawn to her mouth, enticingly bright and reddened from the cold against her pale skin. He felt the incredible urge to kiss her again at that moment, if only under the ridiculously flimsy pretext of keeping her lips warm.

Perhaps there was the slightest modicum of truth in Blaise's accusation.

"Granger," he said in greeting as she stopped in front of him.

"Malfoy," she returned coolly. "I think we ought to talk this whole mirror business out properly, don't you?"

He nodded, cordial. Of course they wouldn't be discussing the kiss anytime soon. "I think you're right." He shuffled along the stone to make room for her. "Join me?"

She stared at the small space afforded to her for a moment before sighing and sitting down. Her shoulder pressed firmly against his, and her hands twisted in her lap. Draco leaned down and picked up a handful of smooth rocks and began skimming them across the glassy surface of the Black Lake, one by one, as he waited for her to speak.

"Draco," she ventured after a moment of silence shattered only by the sound of the stones breaking the water. "Why do you want the mirror so badly?"

He kept his face impassive and shrugged. "On principle, I suppose. I should have won."

"Don't lie to me," Hermione sharply replied. "We both know you wouldn't have gone to the lengths that you have just for a stupid mirror from a Ministry competition."

He turned his neck and fixed her with a glare. "You don't know what I would have done for that mirror, Granger, or what I might still do."

She sighed and pulled her coat tighter around her. "What sort of charm did you create for the competition, Draco?"

Draco paused for a moment and focused his gaze out to the water. "Did you know that it isn't entirely unheard of, even now, for pure-blood children to be beaten and even die at the hands of abusive parents?"

Confused - and more than a little shocked at the abrupt shift in conversational topics - Hermione stuttered out, "Um… no. No, I wasn't aware of that."

He sniffed in dry amusement. "No, I don't suppose a Muggle-born would know about that. It's covered up quite well," he continued in a tone tight with feigned nonchalance. "With all the inbreeding that occurs within the older families, it's easy for a family to claim the child has become sick, and to hide them until the injuries that they sustained have healed. That is, until the parents decide to do it again. Nobody bats an eyelash, and everyone goes on about their lives as though nothing out of the ordinary has happened. The children assume it's perfectly normal." He fixed her with a look of such intensity that she flinched. "It's fucking wrong, Granger, and it needs to stop."

"As heartbreaking as that is," she carefully prodded, "why bring it up?"

"You wanted to know what my charm was for, didn't you?"

"You constructed a charm to protect children?" Hermione asked in wonderment.

"Nobody else was doing anything about it!" he spat. "The Ministry, the Aurors, the families – no one was helping the children! My charm gave them the means to help themselves."

"What did it do?" she asked, shifting slightly closer so their arms and thighs were pressed together.

He drew a deep breath. "It was a way of incapacitating the attacker. I don't know how it happened with you, but the first manifestations of magic in small children most often occur in times of high emotion, and are usually incredibly powerful. Imagine being attacked, screaming for all you're worth. If you were a magical child, being attacked would likely trigger a magical outburst, yes? This charm… it was a means of focusing that outburst into something that would allow them to get away."

"But how would you know which children would need it the most?"

"That was the problem," he replied, a bitter smile about his lips. "It's too difficult to implement. 'Noble in its intent, but impossible in its application', I believe were the exact words the Ministry used. Unless you knew for sure which children were most at risk, there wasn't any real point. And applying it to all children simply wouldn't be productive."

"Yes, it would," Granger argued firmly. "How could you dispute that it wouldn't?"

"Not all children are going to be abused, but all children will experience states of heightened emotion either way, won't they?" he patiently explained. "We can't have every kid focusing his or her magic to maim when they're only throwing tantrums because Mummy won't take them to Fortescue's."

"That doesn't mean the charm couldn't be refined, though," Hermione considered, thoughtful. "And it truly is something this world needs."

Draco's lips curled into a wry smirk. "It was probably a little too close to my heart to attempt either way."

She looked at him oddly then, as though she had absolutely no idea what to say.

"It's alright, Granger," he assured her quietly. "It happened a long time ago."

She shocked him when he felt her hand reach over and wrap around his, squeezing.

"It's not alright!" she fiercely whispered. "No child should have had to grow up the way you did."

"No, they shouldn't," Draco agreed. "Voldemort may be gone, but believe me when I tell you, Granger, the beliefs he espoused have not, and many pure-blood families want to keep it that way. As long as those ideals exist, children who have fathers like mine are going to pay for it."

"All the more reason your charm should be refined then," she refuted. "Imagine all the children you could help."

"But it doesn't really tackle the issue at hand, does it? Shouldn't the focus be on stamping those beliefs out, preventing it from happening in the first place?"

"I don't think a charm made for a Ministry competition was ever going to stamp out the racism and bigotry that is so prolific in this world. As wonderful as the thought is, I doubt it will ever happen."

"Come now, Granger. If anyone can show the world that half-bloods and Muggle-borns such as Potter and yourself deserve your place in this world, it's you."

She smiled brightly at the compliment. His chest gave an odd twinge.

"But you still haven't explained why."

He weakly chuckled. "Must you have an answer for everything?"

"The charm you created is only half the story," Hermione pointed out. "I can't believe that you'd resort to theft just because you didn't win a competition, regardless of the nature of your entry. I doubt even you are that petty."

Draco sighed and leaned back on the stone, resting his folded arms behind his head. "I wanted it for my mother."

"Your mother wants the mirror?" she asked, surprised.

"No, I want to watch her in it."

"That sounds… bizarrely Oedipal."

He laughed at her scrunched-up face. "Don't be crass, Granger, it's unbecoming." He paused and closed his eyes. "My mother… she isn't well. She hasn't been well since my father was sentenced and I came back here."

"Is she lonely at the manor now?"

Draco snorted. "'Lonely' is one word for it. Blitzed-out-of-her-mind on Firewhisky and Dreamless Sleep would be more accurate, though. Even though I don't understand it in the slightest, she misses Father dearly, and my not being there to distract her doesn't help matters."

"That's terrible," Granger murmured sympathetically. "So, you want to watch your mother…?"

"And make sure she doesn't do anything stupid, yes. She wouldn't hear of it when I offered to stay with her instead of coming back here." He let out a deep breath and cracked one eye open, giving her a wry smile. "So, now you know the whole, sordid tale, Granger. That is why I've been such an arse to you these past few weeks."

"I'm glad you told me," she said, worrying her lip between her teeth.

Never before had Draco felt such unexplainable jealously towards a person's teeth, even if he had been exactly where those teeth were just the night prior.

"And I suppose you do have more of an immediate need for the mirror than I do," she went on.

"May I ask who you've taken to watching in it?"

"Sometimes my parents, just to see how they're getting along," she admitted, a pretty pink blush lighting up her cheeks. "Sometimes the mean girls I went to boarding school with before I found out I was a witch, and a few times, purely for curiosity's sake, a couple of Muggle celebrities."

Draco laughed. "Muggle celebrities? My, my, Granger, you really were scraping the bottom of the proverbial barrel, weren't you?"

"The idea of spying on someone doesn't exactly sit as comfortably with me as it might for someone like Harry or Ron, or apparently even you," she defended herself with a small shudder. "I can't even say I was ever too comfortable using Harry's Invisibility Cloak, either."

"I take back what I said about you being a Slytherin. You're far too soft. You should have been a Hufflepuff."

"There are worse things to be, you know," Hermione chastised. "I'll never understand why you Slytherins seem so content to regard being a 'Hufflepuff' as something one should be ashamed of, as though it's an expletive of some kind."

"Slytherins aren't the only ones," he pointed out with a smirk. "I've heard your two faithful sidekicks throw a taunt or two themselves, and not just on the Quidditch pitch. Besides, their colour is yellow and their animal is a badger. How much less threatening can you get?"

"I'll have you know that badgers are quite fierce," Granger primly stated. "They live quietly and peacefully until they are attacked or provoked, in which case they become quite dangerous, hence they are often underestimated by their larger and supposedly more fearsome foes. Did you know some species of badger have even been known to hunt, kill, and eat venomous snakes?"

"Fascinating," Draco drawled.

She shrugged. "I just think you ought to be more careful. You never know who may turn around and bite you."

"Yes, you've proven that theory quite well yourself these past few weeks, even without the need for badger reinforcement."

"It helps my case when you constantly underestimate me. I thought you would have learned not to cross me after your first attempts to do so failed so dismally. Quite brave of you to push on, really." She shot him a cheeky grin. "Perhaps you're far more Gryffindor than you give yourself credit for, charging on heedlessly regardless of the consequences."

Draco snorted. "I doubt I would have been so reckless if I hadn't believed the stakes to be so high."

"So, will you be charging heedlessly on again?" she asked, removing the mirror from the satchel bag hanging at her side and holding it out flat in front of them both. "Granted, I have very nearly run out of ideas for revenge, but the Weasley twins will always help me if I tell them it's for you."

Draco stared at the mirror and eventually shook his head. "This time, I think I might just ask you."

"Isn't that a novel idea?"

"Don't get smart, Granger. I have been so sickening forthright with you today that I might not have the patience to properly deal with you for much longer." He took a deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and asked with great difficulty, "May I occasionally borrow your mirror to watch over my mother?"

She smiled prettily, and he swore his heart stopped.

"Was that so difficult, Draco?"

"Yes," he proclaimed, clutching a hand to his chest and groaning with mock pain. "Incredibly so."

Hermione laughed and held the mirror out to him. "You were right, you know," she said, sobering. "You probably did deserve to win, and in either case, I think you need the mirror far more than I do anyway. If nothing else, I'm more than willing to share."

Draco closed his eyes and hummed, contented with the outcome. "Hermione Granger just admitted that I was right. This is certainly a moment for the Pensieve."

She playfully scowled and pulled the mirror away. "I can take the mirror back just as easily, you know."

"You wouldn't dare," he said, confident of that fact as he reached over her to take the mirror from her outstretched hand.

She laughed and held the mirror further out of his reach, taunting him with it until he stretched too far and fell completely off the stone to the cold, damp ground, bringing her with him for the ride. She landed sprawled across his chest, winding him slightly, but her smile was blinding and her laughter was loud and infectious, and he couldn't find it within himself to be at all irritated. Instead, he laughed with her at the ridiculousness of the situation and the position they were now in, idly running a hand up and down her back.

Their laughter petered out into small puffs of breath that warmed his face, her beautiful, coffee-coloured eyes boring into his grey ones with a familiar sort of determined intensity that he recognised from the night before. Once more, the heady scent of roses was all-consuming, and the only sounds that filled the world were that of the water lapping at the shore, and the quiet hitching of her breath on each exhale. The distance between their bodies was non-existent, and he was incredibly aware of the softness of her breasts pressing into his chest through their many layers of clothing, and his hard, insistent length that was making itself known against her thigh.

Judging by her wide eyes and awed expression, Granger was very aware of those things, too.

It was as though he was watching through someone else's eyes when Draco saw his hand come up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He continued to watch as his fingers traced the smooth slope of her cheek, the bridge of her nose and down over her lips, her breath hitching as she watched him intently. He still wasn't even a hundred percent certain that it was truly him when he lifted his head to kiss her once again.

The kiss was soft, tentative, sweet, warm, and above all else, chaste. It was a stark contrast to the passion and urgency that had overtaken them the night before.

Their closed lips moved together gently before Granger sighed above him and gripped his shoulders in a tighter hold. His hand around her back reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair, while the other wrapped around her waist, holding her tight to him. He parted his lips and deepened the kiss with a bold stroke of his tongue over hers.

A loud splash in the lake shattered the moment. Draco pulled away and turned his head quickly to find the source of the splash, but found nothing more than concentric ripples spreading further and further outwards, the culprit gone for now.

Draco turned back and pressed his forehead against hers and let out a long, shuddering breath. Opening his eyes, he felt gratified to see she looked just as disappointed as him. He carefully pushed her up with gentle pressure to her shoulders and moved out from underneath her, moving instead to sit cross-legged beside her on the ground.

Just as slowly, Granger pushed herself upright, picking up the mirror from where she had dropped it behind her. Another cold breeze chilled the air and they both shivered, unconsciously pressing closer together.

"Here," Hermione softly offered, tapping the mirror with her wand and holding it out to him. "Use it. I know you've been waiting for this."

Tentatively, he reached over and took the mirror from her hands, raised it to his face and whispered, "Show me Narcissa Malfoy."

He held his breath as the fog parted, revealing his mother sitting on a bench in the middle of her rose garden. A basket sat beside her, filled with gardening tools and a small bundle of trimmed blooms in a rainbow of colours that only magic could achieve. She opened her mouth and an elf appeared at her side. Words were silently exchanged before the elf disappeared briefly, reappearing moments later with a tray holding a teacup and a piece of cake.

"She's outside," Draco murmured, his eyes firmly fixed on the image of his mother. "She hasn't tended to her garden since before father was arrested." He absolutely loved that rose garden, as it represented happiness, comfort and everything that was good in the world. Even at the height of Voldemort's reign inside his home, his mother had never once wavered with the upkeep of her roses; the garden had bloomed on magnificently, a silent, private sanctuary away from everything.

"That's a good thing, yes?" Hermione asked as she pressed closer to his side to watch over his shoulder.

"I'd be more confident in saying so if I knew for sure what was in the teacup. It could be potions laced with Firewhisky for all I know, but yes, I think it is." Draco watched as his mother sipped daintily at her tea and nibbled at her cake, her shoulders relaxing with a silent sigh. His eyes widened comically when his mother set her tray down, readjusted her wide-brimmed hat, and set about pruning her flowers with a happy, contented smile upon her face.

"Finite," he whispered. He set the mirror down and looked out over the lake. "She's going to be alright," he said, a little hazily.

An incredulous little laugh escaped his lips and impulsively, he seized Hermione by the shoulders and pressed a quick, hard kiss to her warm, soft lips. "She's going to be alright, Granger," he fervently whispered, not quite believing the words himself.

She blushed and readjusted her knit hat. "I'm happy for you," she said sincerely. "Will you be going back home for Christmas then?"

"I wasn't going to," Draco admitted, sheepishly. "I wanted to, but there's only so much arguing one can do via owl before it becomes utterly redundant. Mother said my grades had slipped too much, and that I was to stay here and study. But now"—he cast another happy glance at the mirror—"now I think I probably should."

"I think she'd like that," Hermione agreed with a warm smile. "So, you're happy, I'm happy. Are we even now?"

"Oh, I don't know about that," Draco countered with a smirk. "You've been quite the mean-spirited cow these past few weeks, Granger. Positively Grinch-like. I don't feel like I've had proper retribution at all. Negotiating use of your mirror doesn't entirely make up for being subjected to your devilish whims."

She snorted and bumped him with her shoulder. "Pardon me for having misgivings regarding your intentions. Had you said from the start that you wanted the mirror to watch over your mother I may have been more forthcoming."

"I have a certain image to maintain, you know."

She moved to take his hand in hers, resting them both on top of her thigh. "You know I would never have viewed your love for your mother as a sign of weakness, right?"

He looked at her with a surprised expression that he quickly schooled into one of nonchalance. That not-quite-love thing was catching up with him fast. "I know you wouldn't," he softly said.

"And you know I never would have kissed you if I didn't know that your so-called image was a load of tripe either?"

"We were trapped under that mistletoe, Granger," he pointed out. "It was either kiss or stay under there forever."

"Even when the mistletoe was gone, Draco, I made no move to pull away. I let you kiss me again just now, too." She gave him a shy smile. "To be completely honest, I've wanted to kiss you like that for a while."

"Good to know," he said with a pleased smirk. "I think I've wanted to kiss you like that for quite a while, too."

"Good to know," she repeated with a grin. "So. What do we do now?"

"What exactly do you want to do, Granger?"

"I would think that you could call me 'Hermione' now, don't you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine, Hermione. What do you think we should do now?"

Hermione hesitated for a split second before standing and extending a hand, which he took, to help him to his feet. "If you still plan on going home then you should probably go and pack. The train to Hogsmeade Station leaves later this afternoon."

Draco brushed the grass from his cloak and regarded her with a raised brow. "We both know that's not what you were really going to say."

Hermione lifted a shoulder and gave a small smile. "Perhaps not, but what I want to say can wait until you've seen your mother and verified for yourself that she's actually alright." She took hold of his hand again and weaved her fingers through his, a task made tricky by their thick gloves, and led him back to the castle. "You should probably send your mother an owl to let her know you'll be returning home after all, before she has a chance to argue with you," she added as they walked.

Draco sighed with mock resignation. "I suppose it wouldn't do to have her die of fright, of all things, especially after everything she's been through."

She snorted. "Such a considerate son you are."

They trekked the remaining distance in silence broken only by the curious whispers of onlookers meandering through the halls who stared pointedly at their entwined fingers and spoke in hushed tones to their friends about how Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were holding hands. Draco glared indiscriminately at them, but reveled inwardly at the way they shrank back before him. He tugged Hermione behind him as he started to walk faster. Merlin help him if Blaise or Potter spotted them. Then he'd never hear the end of it!

"Where's the fire?"

He stopped and whirled around, his eyes darting wildly to and fro as he pushed Granger into an alcove that was shrouded from view by a large hanging tapestry of the Ravenclaw banner. "What fire? Where?" He sniffed the air. "I don't smell smoke."

She rolled her eyes at him. "There's no actual fire, you numpty! It's a Muggle figure of speech."

"Muggles say the most ridiculous things," Draco grumbled.

"It asks why you're in such a hurry, or what you're running from," she clarified. "I give out detentions for far less than speeding through the halls, you know."

"I'm not running," he denied. "I just don't particularly enjoy being the butt of gossip in this place."

Her face fell and he felt her hand loosen around his and try to tug away; he immediately tightened his grip to keep her there.

"I don't care, Granger," he stated. "Everyone will get over my holding your hand like they have everything else we do."

She gave his hand a brief squeeze before they set off again, coming to another stop all too soon in front of the Head's Dormitory, where Sirs Lawrence and Stephen stared at them intently.

"Have a lovely Christmas, Granger," he bade her with a smirk. "I apologise in advance. I do have a present for you, but I envisioned giving it to you on the day, so I don't have it on me at the moment."

"Your present!" she squeaked. She wrenched her hand from his grip and turned to whisper the password to the portrait. It flung open and she stepped inside. "Wait here," she said before flinging the door shut.

He stood for a moment in amused silence, Sir Lawrence eyeing him disdainfully from his place on his horse, before the door spread open once more. Hermione stepped out into the hallway and closed the door again, her hands holding a small, green, wrapped parcel. "You can't open it before Christmas," she told him, holding it out for him to take. "I've made sure you can't."

"Spoilt-sport," he said, with no real heat. "What will happen if I try?"

She shot him an impish little grin. "Do you really want to know?"

Recalling the events of the past month, Draco shook his head with a shudder and placed the small package into his pocket. "I'll take your word for it."

Hermione stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug that he quickly reciprocated. He wound one arm around her waist and the other around her shoulders, pulling her close enough to him so he could bury his nose in her intoxicating, rose scented hair while his fingers drew little circles across her back.

"Have a wonderful Christmas and New Year, Draco," she said, sounding happy and content. "I do hope your mother is feeling better soon."

"Merry Christmas, Hermione," he murmured, placing a small kiss on her temple. "Thank you for the present."

She stood on her tip-toes to press a lingering kiss to his lips, capping it off with a sneaky lick and nibble before quickly pulling out of his embrace and doubling back. He watched, annoyed, as she whispered the password to the portrait without him hearing.

Draco scowled deeply at Sir Lawrence, who wasn't even bothering to hide his delight at Hermione's proximity, the painting even going so far as to give her a lecherous wink in congratulations when it was decided that her password was correct, as though it had been a trial of some sort for her to recall it regardless of the fact that she had done so not even two minutes earlier!

"And, Malfoy?" she called back as she leaned against the doorway, breaking Draco out of his irrational hatred for the lines and swirls of animated paint on canvas. "When you return, please bring back my green teddy. Something tells me I might need it in the near future." She offered him a mischievous smile and closed the door, leaving him standing there, grinning like a mad fool before proudly strutting off to the Owlery.

He scrawled a note in a crude imitation of his usually flawless penmanship and called his eagle owl down from the rafters. He tied the missive to its legs and sent it out the window to his mother, watching as it became a mere speck on the horizon. Then, he headed down to his shared dorm in the dungeons to pack for the holidays.

For the very first time in Draco's life, he felt he could smile in the face of the future. After all, who else but Draco Malfoy could score a kiss, a win, and an implied promise of future sex all from Hermione Granger and learn that their mother was on the upswing, all in the same day?

AN: Hope you enjoyed this one; I certainly enjoyed writing it. There will be no continuation of this story; I like it as it stands. Please leave a review if you feel so inclined, and I'll be back with more Dramione, and a few other pairings, soon :)