Author's Note: Hello and happy Friday! As promised, here is the final chapter. Unfortunately, unlike as promised, the next chapter of Somewhere Down the Line will not be out today. I tried as best as I could to get it done, but it's not quite ready yet and will need just a bit more time. But that's a whole different story! Hope you enjoy chapter three :)

Draco brushed his index finger over his lower lip as he watched longingly at Hermione's distancing figure. He inhaled a deep breath when she reached the edge of his family's property, mentally preparing himself for what he knew would come next. And then, just like that, she was gone.

It was over.

The pebbled stones crunched under his feet as he slowly walked back to the house, softly smiling to himself despite the emptiness that was starting to burrow itself into his heart. At least it had been a quality day. They never managed to have those pancakes she had initially been so set on, the notion far escaping her mind once he returned from the kitchen and dragged her into the shower where they did far more than just wash the batter off. But while he'd never forget the way her back arched against those white tiled walls or the feel of her wet body pressed up against his as she cried out his name one final time, that wasn't even close to what he'd miss the most.

He'd miss her sharp tongue and how she'd have an opinion about anything and everything. He'd miss her finding it absolutely necessary to correct even his slightest grammatical error, even if he had purposefully made it just to enjoy her doing so. He'd miss them lying in bed together and not saying a single word, silently acknowledging that each other's presence was enough.

He'd miss every piece of it - all those small moments that seemed so insignificant on the surface but were the reason he smiled the brightest.

Most of all, he'd miss her.

And if that final kiss was any indication, he was fairly certain she was going to miss him as well.

For a brief moment, he considered going back on this whole Hogwarts professorship thing and chasing after her - wherever it is she just went - and telling her that leaving was a mistake, but that foolish thought quickly dissipated. This job was his ticket back into the good graces of British wizarding society, and he was actually looking forward to sharing what he had learned in Paris with a new generation of students. So as much as he wanted to be with Hermione, he had to accept reality and make peace with the fact that he had made the decision to prioritise his career instead.

It may not be his ideal situation, but he had been preparing himself for this moment ever since he had realised that he had actually grown to like her. He had savoured every day that he had been able to call that witch his, and he refused to now ruin those precious memories by mourning that there wouldn't be any new ones to add to his collection. He may not be able to physically take her with him to Hogwarts, but she'd always have a place in his heart.

As he walked down the corridor, he ran his fingers along the painting lined walls, the framed pictures now adorned with stray splashes of batter. Draco chuckled to himself, already reminiscing about the events of earlier that day. If he was lucky, the sound of her infectious laughter would continue to echo in his mind for the next month, giving him a small piece of her to hold onto as he transitioned into his new job, his new home, his new life.

It may not be as good as the real thing, but at least it was something.

He should probably head to Hogwarts soon, McGonagall almost certainly already awaiting his arrival, but he wanted a few more minutes to soak in the remnants of her presence. Reminders of her were everywhere. The couch she used to read on. The flowers she had picked from the surrounding forest. The vase she had shattered into a million pieces after accidentally knocking it over and then apologised profusely about even though she had already reassembled it like new.

What hit him the hardest, though, was reentering the kitchen, their mess from earlier left untouched, her pancake recipe card still laying out on the counter. They hadn't bothered to leave the bedroom after finishing their shower, meals no longer seeming important when they could lazily lie in bed instead, so he hadn't made it back there until now. He was tempted to leave it as is, keep it as yet another reminder of their week together at the lake, but his father would never let him step foot in that house again if Draco didn't leave it completely spotless. Not that Draco ever intended on coming back there - he'd much rather his final memories of the place be of her there with him.

The sun was now starting to disappear beyond the horizon, and he really couldn't delay leaving any longer. Students would be arriving in less than twenty-four hours, so it was time he bid farewell to summer and let the whole experience remain a series of happy memories for him to resort to when the stress of being a first year professor started to get to him.

He tucked the recipe card into his pocket and then drew his wand out of his pocket, slowly waving it through the kitchen and the rest of the house, until just like that, it was as if he and Hermione had never even stepped foot in there.

...

Draco scanned his eyes over every inch of the Entrance Hall, a chill going straight down his back. Even though he had previously returned to the castle for his interview, it still felt strange being back inside those walls. It would take a lot of getting used to, but given time, the new memories would slowly but surely replace the old ones.

He continued to wait patiently, and soon enough, he heard the echoes of footsteps travelling in his direction and the Headmistress came into sight, wearing essentially the same emerald robes he remembered from his first year.

"I apologise for the delay," McGonagall remarked once she was reasonably close enough. "I had just finished showing another faculty member her living quarters when Filch told me you had arrived. But right this way, and I'll take you to your chambers and then leave you with the key to your classroom so you can get settled."

She led Draco up a vaguely familiar staircase and then turned down a corridor he had seldom frequented during his tenure at the school, stopping in front of the third door on the left. When he stepped inside, he looked around at the modest accommodations. The room was practically a quarter of the size of his flat in London, but he hadn't been expecting much. At least there was a separate kitchen, sitting area, and bedroom. He placed his trunk on top of the Hogwarts provided kitchen table and unlatched the top.

"I suggest it wise to tend to your personal chambers later seeing as you have an entire classroom that requires your attention before classes begin on Monday," the Headmistress more commanded than suggested like she so claimed. She paced towards him and handed him two keys. "The larger one will open the Potions classroom. I trust that you'll be able to figure out how to get down there yourself?"

Draco nodded. He couldn't guarantee that there wouldn't be at least a few snags along his way, provided all the changing staircases and his memory of their movement schedule a bit fuzzy, but even fifty years away from the castle could affect his memory so badly that he'd completely forget how to get there.

"Oh, and one more thing. There will be a staff meeting tomorrow morning at nine o'clock sharp. And I do not permit tardiness under any circumstances, even from professors," she advised as she started to make her way out the door but then stopped when she reached the frame to look back at him and give him a subtle nod of approval. "It's a pleasure to have you on staff, Mr Malfoy."

Draco returned the favour. "It's a pleasure to be here."

After only a slight few mishaps finding his way downstairs, Draco spent the next few hours in the dungeons, assessing his new classroom and decorating it so that it was his own. Most of the simple stuff like organising the tables into groups of four and hanging the informational posters of which cauldrons to use for what potions and charts detailing the proper cutting techniques were easy enough to do with the swish of his wand, but other tasks he preferred to do himself. He spent nearly two hours alone rearranging his personal reference library in his office, and taking inventory of the ingredients was taking infinitely longer than he anticipated, but both of those tasks were absolutely necessary. One could hardly expect a Potions professor to be successful if he didn't have a clear idea of what he was doing and what resources he had to do it with!

Draco was in the middle of counting how many bat spleens were in the stock cupboard when he heard the distant ringing of the midnight bells, letting him know that it was officially September 1st.

August was over.

The heartache he had been avoiding since the moment Hermione had left flooded his system, infiltrating every fibre of his being. Suddenly, his heart turned heavy, his stomach crashed down to his feet, and his brain refused to do any more work. He tried to fight it, remind himself that there was no use being sad about a decision that had already been made, but his heart had taken control, and it became painfully evident that he wasn't going to get anything else accomplished that evening.

Admitting defeat, Draco trudged his way up the stairs to his quarters and closed the door behind him with a frustrated groan. He had been foolish to believe that moving on would be as easy as letting his memories of her remain tokens of previous affection that he kept close to his heart. The mere memory of her wasn't enough; it hadn't even been six hours, and he already desperately missed the real thing.

He looked around at the dull room. Maybe he'd feel better if he made this place feel a bit more like home. Then he might stand a chance of reverting his focus back to work like he had intended.

He flicked his wand and the contents of his trunk came flying out, the room that had been barren only minutes prior now filled with his belongings. Hanging on the wall was his Certificate of Extraordinary Excellence from his apprenticeship with the Parisian Potions Master. Draped at the foot of his bed was the old worn blanket that had been his absolute favourite for as long as he could remember. Off in the corner was his broomstick, positively itching to be used again on a Quidditch Pitch.

And yet, the room still felt empty, and he knew exactly what - or rather, who - was missing.

He imagined her in that room with him, and even just the thought of that made him feel better. Maybe she could visit on weekends. Merlin knew the witch wouldn't be opposed to returning to the school. She probably wouldn't even mind helping him with his lesson plans. Or grading students' exams. Or researching things to add to the curriculum. Or his unlimited access to the restricted section. That last one alone would likely convince her!

This could work.

Not wasting a single second more, he used a few quick Summoning Charms so that a roll of parchment, a quill, and an inkwell flew into his hands and then pulled out the pancake recipe card from his robes pocket. Enough with making excuses for why they couldn't be together. He liked her, and he still wanted to be with her - even if that meant making some sacrifices.

As he had learned from the war heroine herself, some things were worth fighting for.

...

Draco rushed through the corridors, his letter to Hermione tightly gripped in his hand as he practically ran to the Great Hall. Today was not the morning for him to oversleep! Although, he did only have himself to blame. He had stayed up until nearly two in the morning, drafting, editing, and redrafting the perfect combination of words to write to her until he was finally satisfied with the results. He had intended to wake up with enough time to stop by the owlery before the start of the staff meeting so that he could get his letter out, but when he woke up all alone in his bed at a quarter 'til, he barely had time to place a quick Scourgify spell on himself and throw on a fresh set of robes before darting out the door so that he'd still make it to the meeting on time.

He only slowed his pace when he entered the Great Hall and saw that McGonagall wasn't anywhere in sight. Phew. That had been a close one.

The rest of the faculty was standing around the room mingling with each other, but Draco had barely had the chance to look around before he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw McGonagall beside him.

"You were nearly late, Professor Malfoy," she said sternly. "But I require a word with you before we begin." This time, she didn't even try to disguise her command as a suggestion. From her tone alone, it was obvious that whatever she had to say to him was important.

Draco promptly followed her down the length of the Great Hall and was alarmed when she led him into the side room adjacent to the High Table. As he entered, he kept his head down, his mind reeling with the possibilities of what was so important that she had to speak with him in private. It wasn't like he had done anything that could get himself fired before term even started! Unless news had somehow gotten out about his hiring and the reactions were even worse than they had anticipated. But that wasn't possible! He hadn't even told -

Hermione.

Draco's heart stopped. Or maybe it was beating so fast, he couldn't even detect a heartbeat anymore. He shook his head to make sure he wasn't imagining it again, but it had to be her. The distinct curl of her hair. The floral scent of her body wash. The complete obliviousness to everything else around her as she read the book held tight between her hands. There was only one witch like that, and she was currently standing right in front of him.

And yet, he still didn't understand what she was doing here.

McGonagall closed the door behind her, and Hermione finally looked up and saw him standing there, the same look of complete and utter bewilderment washing over her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Me?! I could ask you the same thing!"

"Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy," McGonagall interrupted before either one of them could answer the other. "As you both are individually aware, I had made your hiring at Hogwarts this year secret so that there would be a low possibility of press involvement, but also because I did not want either of you to turn down the position because of the hiring of the other."

Draco and Hermione's eyes met. Did she just say 'the hiring of the other?'

"I require the best for my faculty and you two are both prime candidates for your positions, and therefore, I will not permit unresolved disagreements from years past to influence staffing decisions. Now, I expect the both of you to treat each other with the utmost respect and for the students to be none the wiser about your past relationship with one another. Do I make myself clear?"

Draco and Hermione continued to blankly stare at each other, both of them apparently having an equally difficult time processing what they had just been told.

"I also expect an answer when I ask a question," the Headmistress not-so-gently pressed.

They both nodded.

"Good," she resolved. "Then if that's settled, we may now proceed with the staff meeting."

McGonagall turned for the door, but Draco finally found his voice. "Do you mind if Hermi- Miss Granger and I have a moment to - catch up - before we return to the staff? I believe she and I have a couple things to discuss."

The Headmistress looked at Hermione for approval, and when she nodded her agreement, McGonagall submitted to his request. "You two have five minutes. And I expect the castle to still be standing by the end of that time!"

The door closed behind her, and both of them started rambling over each other, their thoughts flowing so fast, it sounded like two separate conversations overlapping.

"I thought you were working at St. Mungo's!"

"What happened to taking a break now that you were back in England?"

"I quit three weeks ago when I got the job here."

"I wasn't exactly going to turn down an offer at a steady, reputable school."

"I just assumed you'd never want to return to this place!"

"So that's how you could take all that time off work? I knew that was suspicious!"

"Is that what you were doing in Hogsmeade that night?"

Draco cleared his throat after Hermione's most recent question, the conversation converging to one topic. "Yes," he finally admitted.

"And I take it you're teaching Potions?"

"Naturally. And you're the new matron, I presume?"

"Naturally."

"Good," Draco said with the beginning traces of a smirk starting to creep up his lips. "Then perhaps you can help me out with something."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Did you somehow manage to fall deathly ill in the past twelve hours or so?"

"Not exactly," he said, taking a step closer to her. "But you see, I did wake up with a bit of a broken heart, and I'm fairly certain you're the only one who can fix it."

Hermione folded her arms against her chest and glared at him. "You really expect me to fall for that?"

Draco chuckled. "Don't lie to yourself. You and I both know we already fell for each other weeks ago." She continued to simply glare at him, but he could already start to see the cracks in her facade developing. He took another step forward, closing the gap between them. "Admit it," he near whispered as he brushed a strand of hair out of her face just so he had an excuse to touch her. "You already missed me."

Hermione shot him another look, but this one was softer, and he knew he was right.

"Fine," she eventually surrendered, dropping her hands to her side. She hung her head slightly as she shook it back it forth. "It absolutely gutted me to leave last night."

Draco lifted her chin up with a curved finger so that he could stare right into her eyes, letting himself get swept away in them. "And it absolutely gutted me to watch you leave, which is why I wrote you this." He dug into his robes pocket and retrieved the note he had written the night before.

She looked down at it curiously, but then slowly unrolled it and started to read.

Hermione,

We've made a mistake. You can't put a strict deadline on a relationship, just like how you can't put a strict ingredient list on a recipe. Things change and adapt according to need and situation, so nothing can be set in stone.

I never told you, and I have my reasons, but I'll be back at Hogwarts this year as the Potions Master. If you're willing to admit that we were wrong, the first Hogsmeade trip of the year will be the first weekend of October. What do you say to starting this all over again right where we began?

Draco

P.S. My secret ingredient is an extra teaspoon of baking powder.

Hermione lowered the note, and she didn't have to say a single word for him to know that she was just as much his and he was hers.

He had a good feeling about this school year.

Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know what you think! If you liked my writing and would like to check out more of my stories, I *will* be uploading a new chapter of Somewhere Down the Line relatively soon, but I also have a full length piece called Incomplete or a few other shorter stories. Again, thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed :)