Author's Notes:

Slight changes to this ending from the original fest piece. If you've read the other version, let me know what you think of the added material.

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"What is it that makes us human?

It's the strength of the human heart.

It's love."

– Marcus Wright, "Terminator: Salvation"

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Cursing the bad weather, Hermione patted her wet hair down with one hand and then slipped inside The Magic Touch, getting out of the rain. The small, golden bell above the door chimed a greeting as she came in.

"Be right with you," Malfoy called out from a back office.

She set her box of old Muggle photos on the counter and quickly tried to fix her hair. She'd just had it cut the day before in anticipation of this appointment today, but the rain had made a mess of it now. Figures.

"Hey," Draco said, casually lounging against the doorway of his employee office. "You came. Colour me pleasantly surprised, Granger."

Dropping her hands, not wanting to be seen as being vain, she plastered a smile on her face and patted the box instead. "Hi. Um, they're all here, as I explained in the Owl. Can you take a look and see if they're salvageable?"

"Sure."

He crossed over to her, his pretentious swagger long gone, replaced with a quiet, understated confidence. Opening the box, he began looking through the photos, determining whether their faded colouring could be touched up and sharpened by magic or not. She took those silent moments to examine him.

A decade since they'd last seen each other before last week's accidental run-in, but if anything, Draco looked better than he had in his youth. He'd grown into his looks and out of his arrogance. And gads, was he big! Somewhere between Ron and Harry's heights, but built like the Auror he'd been, before retiring and opening his own shoppe here in Diagon Alley last year. He looked good for single and twenty-eight. She patted at her messy, damp hair again. Whereas she...well, she'd added two dress sizes since leaving Hogwarts, but then, she'd been juggling PTSD, a stressful Ministry job, and being married for six years to Ron before they'd not-so-amicably split the year before. Still, her figure was good, and her new haircut had really looked fabulous, according to Ginny.

Would it be enough to capture Malfoy's attention, though?

When she'd dropped him off at Shell Cottage after that night, years ago, she'd thought it best at the time not to look back. He'd been in love with an alternate version of herself, and that had been awkward enough, but being so close to him again had also done things to her that had left her conflicted over her feelings for Ron. In the end, she'd decided to stay the course, rather than go back for 'what ifs', letting the whole thing die on the vine. As Draco had no memory of that other Hermione, it had made it easy for her to simply walk away and leave him to his fate.

Of course she hadn't taken the Forgetfulness potion, either. When it had come down to it, her curiosity had gotten the better of her. Knowing something was special about Dumbledore's wand, however, had allowed them to put together the pieces of the Deathly Hallows and to determine the wand's true identity. That information had given them the advantage. They'd gotten to the wand before Voldemort, and within a matter of months, had defeated him with it.

Now, ten years later, with a war, a recovery, and a bad marriage behind her, here she was internally debating her feelings for this wizard once more.

"You ever find out what happened to Umbridge?" she asked, trying to make small talk. She knew Malfoy had been assigned to track down rogue Death Eaters left over from the war during his tenure in the Auror's office.

"No, and no one's really looking too hard," he said, holding one photo up to the light and frowning at it. "Her wand was found at the foot of the Dark Archway, though, so the consensus is she fell in."

"How awful," Hermione said, not really meaning it. There were very few people she reserved her utter disdain for, and Dolores Umbridge was one of that lucky group.

Draco's lips curled with wry amusement. "Why, Granger, I didn't realise you were so ruthless."

She shrugged, and then noticed he was still gazing at the same picture. "Which one is that?" she asked, reaching for it.

Faster than she could blink, the photo was whipped out of her reach.

"Wha-? Let me see, Malfoy."

He was staring at her with an expression she'd never seen on his face before. "It's nothing," he quickly said. "A bad shot."

She frowned up at him. "How do you know?"

"It just is," he insisted, moving it away as she went to swipe it from him a second time.

Growling, she glared at him and held her hand out. "It's my picture. Give it to me."

Hesitating, he seemed torn, but in the end, he handed her the photograph.

It was her and her mother at King's Cross. She was heading off to school and looked to be about seventeen in the photo, which would put it at the beginning of sixth year.

Over her photo image's left shoulder, something white caught her attention. She looked more closely.

It was Draco...and he was looking at her.

Her eyes widened. "Oh." She glanced up at Malfoy. He was looking down at her box of photos, clearly embarrassed. "Why didn't you want me to see this?"

He shuffled through the photos quickly, randomly. "It's a bad shot, as I said. Background's too...noisy. You should toss it."

"Oh?" She glanced at it again, specifically at the expression on his younger face. His interest was obvious to her now that she knew about his feelings for her alternate self...but wait, this photo had been taken before the other Hermione had shown up, hadn't it? "Oh!" she said again, as she realised what that meant.

His cheeks flushed with blood.

"Well, I like it," she confessed. "Especially the background."

He seemed surprised by that. "You do?"

"Mmm. It's a keeper."

Putting the photo in her purse, she made sure it received prominent placement within her wallet.

Draco cleared his throat, clearly nervous. "You know, the storm looks like it could last all afternoon," he said, and glanced out the window. When he looked back at her, he cast her a hesitant, but flirty smirk, "and going through the whole box could take hours. That's a lot of standing for a lady in heels."

Her heart skipped a beat in excitement at his implication. "Is that so?" she coyly asked, playing along. "Well, my feet certainly wouldn't like that. I don't suppose you have some place for us to sit and...get more comfortable?"

His grin was slow and sexy. "Office in the back. And I've got tea I could put on."

She gathered up her box under one arm. "Sounds divine. Lead the way."

Before he did, however, he reached out and ran his fingers through her new short, layered strands. "I like this better. It suits a grown-up you."

He'd willingly touched her! That settled it; she was going for it. Two years after the Restricted Section incident and an additional ten on top of that post-war was long enough to wonder if there was something between them worth pursuing.

She reached for his hand and took it in her own, running her finger over his family's signet ring. It gleamed in the shoppe's dim light. She wondered what spells it had upon it... "Since today's meeting was my inspiration for a massive make-over," she said, "it sounds like I chose the right cut."

His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Or it could have been fate you picked it since I have a serious thing for witches with short hair."

That she recalled from having met her 'other' self and heard first hand how desperately he'd loved her. "So, destiny versus desire, hmm? Which is it, I wonder."

His gaze grew heated. "In our case, Granger, I think it's clear that it's always been a little bit of both."

"Good things come in twos, then," she stated, feeling a bit breathless from the look he was giving her.

He, literally, growled then, and the sound shot through her core like fire.

"You have no idea," he told her.

She opened her mouth to ask him what he meant by that, but he smoothly cut her off with a wave at the shoppe's front door to lock it and to turn the sign over to "CLOSED".

"Shall we take this debate into my office, along with the photos?" he offered.

She smiled at his charming Slytherin sensibilities. "Absolutely. You know I love a good fight, Malfoy."

He chuckled. "That I do, Granger. That I do."

Following him into his private office, Hermione looked forward to what came next, feeling a painful but exciting hope once more throb to life inside her fast-beating heart.

Her future, it seemed, was about to become a whole lot more interesting.

~FIN~

Author's Final Notes:

Yes, in case the hinting throughout the piece wasn't clear, Draco's family ring has a special spell on it, just as Crabbe's had. I left it vague enough, but I think from the way Draco's behaving in this chapter we can all infer that it's a charm to nullify any Memory spells cast against him.

Oh, and we all know what he's really leading her into the back room for, don't we - a thorough ravishing!

Please review & let me know what you thought of the story! I am so thankful if you hung in until the end!

XOXO,

- RZZMG