A/N: And here's the epilogue! Thank you all for going on this journey with me! It's been such fun!

Epilogue

One year later

Hermione smiled fondly at Draco, where he sat across the room from her. In his arms, he held their beautiful daughter, who they'd affectionately named Carina Rose (Carina to honor the Black family tradition of naming their children after constellations and stars, and Rose because Hermione had always loved the name). Their daughter had a head full of blonde curls and enchanting grey eyes, just like her father's. Hermione didn't think she could love two people more than she loved her little family.

She and Draco had stayed in the safe house for the remainder of her pregnancy. It was just easier to be out of the public eye for a while longer. Fortunately, Narcissa had warmed up considerably after she heard about the baby, and tension in the house eased immensely. When Hermione was eight months along, she finally sent a letter to her parents detailing the last year of her life. They were understandably hurt that she hadn't told them sooner, but they were also overjoyed about being grandparents. They even insisted on meeting Narcissa—which was a tense affair, to say the least. Still, Hermione's life had fallen into place, more than she'd ever dreamed it would.

But now that the baby was here and the war was over, they had left the safe house behind—permanently, she hoped. Draco had purchased them a small cottage overlooking the ocean. It was perfect, really. Hermione couldn't have been happier. She spent her days loving and nurturing Carina while Draco was off at Quidditch practice with the Appleby Arrows (he was Seeker, of course). At night, she and Draco would study for their NEWTs after Carina was asleep. For the time being, it was perfect for her.

Harry had joined the Kenmare Kestrels as their Seeker, and often played against Draco. It made Hermione laugh to see them still such bitter rivals on the Quidditch pitch. Fortunately for her sanity, Draco won a good amount of the matches they played against each other, so he didn't come home complaining all the time that "Potter cheated," or "Potter got lucky this time."

Ron was preparing to return to Hogwarts in a few months, oddly enough. Hermione was happy for him. He had done a lot of growing up over the summer, but he still had a ways to go. Perhaps he would find fulfillment at school and be able to stand on his own two feet for the first time in his life. She hoped he would.

Of course, it was still hard to believe just how many people had been lost in the war. A lot of the people were nameless, faceless, but Hermione had known a few. Aside from Percy, Colin Creevey, Professor Snape, Amelia Bones, Lavender Brown, and Michael Corner had died. Hermione had made sure to attend each funeral, if only to support their loved ones.

As for the Death Eaters that died, Hermione had to admit that she didn't much care about them. They had sided with a madman and were so full of their own anger and prejudice that they deserved what they got. The rest of the Death Eaters were rounded up within a few months and sent to Azkaban where they belonged.

Life was peaceful for the first time Hermione could remember since she turned eleven. She chuckled at the thought, and Draco looked up at her. He tilted his head questioningly. She smiled at the picture of her boyfriend and daughter.

"I'm just thinking about how life is peaceful for the first time since I turned eleven," she said quietly.

Draco fought back a laugh. He clearly didn't want to wake Carina from her nap. "It's peaceful for the first time ever for me," he whispered.

Hermione nodded. She knew that. His childhood had not been great, and his father had blocked out any happiness through most of his teen years. Draco hadn't found anything worth living for until they got together. Hermione took a lot of pride in knowing that she had turned his life around.

After a moment, Draco stood up and placed Carina in the bassinet. He jerked his head in the direction of the front door, and Hermione followed him. Once on the front porch, they both just gazed out at the sun setting over the ocean. It was beautiful. Hermione slipped her hand into Draco's, waiting patiently for him to say what he clearly needed to say. It took a good ten minutes before he tore his eyes from the water to look at her. She had never seen such vulnerability on his face, even with all they had gone through.

"What's wrong?" she asked him worriedly.

Draco mustered a halfhearted grin. "Nothing's wrong. I just . . . I wanted to talk," he finished lamely.

Hermione scrutinized his face. "What about?"

He took a deep breath. "Us, I suppose."

"What?" Hermione's chest was filling with dread. It weighed heavily on her, like it would drag her through the porch and into the ground.

"Nothing bad, I promise," he said when he noticed her expression.

"O-okay," she stuttered. "Don't scare me like that."

He chuckled nervously and ran his hand through his hair. "The thing is, I'm not great with words. I think you know that."

She shook her head. "I can think of several times you've been rather . . . eloquent," she teased, smirking.

Draco snorted. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, okay. Please continue."

He nodded and looked at his feet. "Like I said, I'm not great with words. I was raised to never feel emotion, let alone show it. You've helped me get past that so much in the last year. And I love you."

When several moments went by without him speaking, Hermione said, "I love you too, you know."

He looked back at her. "I know. I guess I just . . . My mother said it would be better if . . ." He sighed, appearing angry with himself.

"Draco, just spit it out already," Hermione said. She knew he needed a bit of a push if he was going to get to it any time soon.

"I want to marry you!" he nearly shouted. "Damn it, that was supposed to be so much better."

Hermione took a step closer and cupped his face in her hands. "Draco, I don't care if you recite poetry or sing or shower the floor in rose petals. I love you more than life itself. Of course I'll marry you."

A look of relief washed over him, and he pulled her into a kiss. "I love you," he murmured against her lips. "I love you so much."

She tucked herself into his arms. Life was good.