Author's Note: Apologies for the delay in this final chapter - the world is a bit crazy right now.

One final thank you to LightofEvoluton who was a real superhero this week and a massive downpour of love to HeartofAspen.

And to all you wonderful readers, thank you for your patience and for reading. I hope you enjoy this final chapter!

The crunching of autumn leaves and fallen branches were all that filled Draco's ears as they crossed the threshold into the Forbidden Forest. His eyes were in constant motion, on the lookout for anything significant. Yes, he was searching for a unicorn, but he was also mindful of anything that may be of alarm or concern. Now more than ever, he wished his wand was functional. Werewolves, centaurs, hags. There was no telling what could attack them.

The trees grew increasingly denser, the farther in Granger and he got. Rough bark lined their exterior, weathered from the hundreds of years they'd been growing. A canopy of thick leaves blocked the moonlight, so the only source of light was from the tip of Granger's wand.

Draco didn't like it. It made him feel trapped. Lost. And the surrounding howls and other distant noises weren't making it any better.

"Are you considering a career in wand-making?" Draco asked, needing the conversation to take his mind off their surroundings.

"Not particularly," she returned. Her attention was just as focused elsewhere, though she didn't appear half as concerned as he was to be in the Forbidden Forest so late at night. "It's an interesting subject, but there isn't much need for another wandmaker when we already have Ollivander."

"Erm, right."

Their words fell away, once more replaced by the sound of snapping twigs, until Granger spoke again.

"How about you? Do you know what you want to do?"

Draco shrugged. "Haven't decided. Potentially a position in potions or—"

Something rustled in the nearby foliage, and Draco jolted. He impulsively reached for his wand — though he knew it wouldn't do much good — and aimed it squarely at the source of the disturbance. Adrenaline propelling through his veins, Draco poised to attack as best he could when the threat revealed itself, yet all that peeked out through the overgrown knotgrass was a harmless Bowtruckle.

As Draco fumbled to regain his composure, Granger did a foul attempt at muffling her snicker. "Scared that Bowtruckle may mistake you for a tree and try to make a home in your shirt pocket?"

Draco was not amused. "For all we knew, it could have been a baby Acromantula," he snapped, frazzled nerves only now starting to wither.

"Oh, please," Granger instantly dismissed. "From what Ron and Harry told me, the Acromantulas are much deeper in the forest."

His agitation resurfaced. Just what Draco wanted. Another mention of the almighty Harry Potter and his bloody adventures.

"Let's move on," Draco settled with a gruff rumble. "The sooner we find a unicorn, the better."

He continued his trek through the forest, and while Granger quickly followed, it appeared she hadn't caught onto the literal and figurative meaning behind his insistence that they 'move on.'

"What has you so tightly wound? It's not like this is your first time here," she said as her shorter legs hustled to keep pace with his longer strides. "You survived a war, yet you're scared of some trees?"

He was beginning to regret agreeing to her help. She had already pushed her way into his personal business with his wand. Was she not satisfied? Yet as much as Draco didn't want to answer the question, he was also fully aware of how insufferable she'd be if he didn't.

"It's not the trees I'm scared of," he tightly responded, his focus remaining locked forward on their surroundings. "It's what lurks between them."

"You made it out just fine last time."

"Only after I was attacked by a half-alive parasitic version of Lord Voldemort!" Draco briskly retorted. "Unlike you and your reckless friends, I don't make a habit of intentionally putting myself in life-threatening situations."

Granger let out a soft snort. "Honestly, we would have preferred to stay out of half of those situations as well!" she said, the beginning traces of a smile inching up her lips. "Just admit it, Malfoy. When it comes to the Forbidden Forest, you're as much of a scaredy-cat as you were when we were first years," she taunted with a grin. "To think I actually wanted to be your partner that night!"

Draco felt the heat rush to his cheeks. "Excuse you, but I have perfectly valid—"

The impulse to defend himself promptly died on his tongue when his brain finished processing everything else she had said.

"Wait." He stopped his moving again, forehead wrinkled as he turned to Granger. "In what warped version of the past did you want to be my detention partner?"

She seemed to stagger slightly before she, too, came to a stop. "Don't think too much of it, Malfoy," she said, her eyes not completely meeting his as she brushed away a few loose curls. "The choice was between you, Harry, and Neville, and you seemed to be the one most knowledgeable about the forest, even if you were scared. That's all."

Granger made to keep walking, but something felt off.

He caught her hand and pulled her back. "Bloody codswallop."

It took several silent seconds for Draco to realise he hadn't yet dropped his hold on her, and only a splinter after that to see the faint pink flush now tainting her cheeks.

"Seriously, Malfoy," she insisted, her voice slightly breaking as she yanked her hand free. "It was nothing." She turned her back to him and resumed walking. "Like you said, let's move on. We need to find a unicorn before they go to sleep."

The distance between them widened, but Draco remained rooted to his spot, eyes never leaving her form. His mind flashed back to that night so many years back, the first time they'd been in the Forbidden Forest.

The most frightened of them had been, without a doubt, Longbottom, but Granger hadn't exactly shown her Gryffindor colours, either. If memory served Draco right — which he was absolutely certain it did — the witch had been terrified silent their entire journey into the woods. Her feelings towards roaming amongst the darkened trees may have shifted since then, but the fact that the Forbidden Forest had once made the proud Hermione Granger fearful had not. And he was supposed to believe she had wanted him to be the one by her side as they navigated into the dangerous unknown?

She was hiding something. As a master of secrets himself, he could sense it.

Granger didn't want to partner with him because of his knowledge about the Forbidden Forest; she wanted to partner with him because she wanted an excuse for them to be alone.

His mind scrambled to make sense of it, come up with an explanation as to why that could be.

An idea clicked.

"Did you... fancy me?"

An indescribable wave pulsed through him when he heard how ridiculous the question sounded out loud. Of course that couldn't be the reason. He had been an utter prat to her since the moment they'd met. Under what circumstances could this be the case? And yet, he didn't entirely hate the notion…

A bark of laughter echoed through the trees. "Not a chance, Malfoy!"

Draco stiffened as Granger let out another sharp laugh. "You don't have to sound so opposed," he said with a huff. He took a single step towards her, arms now folded across his chest. "But if that's not the reason, then why did you really want to be my partner that night?"

The question hung in the air, the surrounding sounds of the Forbidden Forest once more becoming evident. Draco tuned it out. The forest was no longer his main concern. He needed an answer.

She crossed her arms against her chest as though they'd serve as some sort of shield to his approaching footsteps. She did her best to maintain a steely expression, but the closer he got, the more it broke, until he was close enough to see the flash of pink that had returned across her cheeks.

With only a single pace left between them, Draco stopped to look at her, but she wouldn't meet his gaze.

"If you didn't want me to know, then you shouldn't have brought it up," he said, his voice now gruff. "You know my secret. It's time to fess up yours."

She snapped her head up to look at him, her gaze finally connecting with his. "Because I was curious about you, okay?"

It wasn't enough. "Curious how ?"

Granger huffed before she peered off into the distance. Her vision lingered there for several seconds until she let out a long sigh and the tension in her shoulders slightly slackened.

"I didn't like Harry and Ron very much when I first met them," she began to explain, her words milder than before, but still holding a small edge to them. "I found them immature and reckless and overly full of themselves."

Draco snorted. "Ahh, something we can agree upon."

She shot him a sidelong glare. "Do you want my answer or not?" she challenged, and Draco didn't interrupt again. "No, I didn't like Harry and Ron very much at the beginning, but as I actually got to know them, they became my best friends. And let me repeat — just in case it wasn't clear the first time — that I, in no way, had 'fancied' you," she said with a huff, arms now firmly folded across her chest. "I merely recognised your talent and intelligence and thought there was a chance that if you and I had the opportunity to spend time alone outside of your constant attempts to irritate Ron and Harry, we could find common ground. I wanted to believe there was more to you than your pompous, prattish ways." She sighed. "And I held on hope for a bit. But I gave up at the beginning of second year."

A heavy lump formed in his gut. "After I called you a—"

"Mudblood."

He swallowed thickly at her voicing of the word. It'd be a lie to say he hadn't heard it since the end of the war. Hell, he'd heard whispers of it in the Slytherin Common Room only a few days ago. The war was over, but so many opinions had yet to change. But his had.

"I'm sorry for that," he croaked. "I was young."

"And the rest of us weren't?"

"No, we all were, so I suppose that's just an excuse," he weakly returned. He released a slow, heavy breath and stared down at his shoes. "I too blindly listened to what I had been told and didn't understand until I was too far deep. My age wasn't to blame; it was my naivety. I wanted to stand my ground, defend what I'd been taught, but it all came falling apart after sixth year. And when we started taking prisoners at the Manor… and I saw what Voldemort did to Professor Burbage…" He sucked in a deep breath. "No one deserves that fate."

He looked back up and found her eyes, a softness now glossing over them that he'd never seen directed at him before.

"So is that why you didn't identify us?"

Draco nodded. "As I said, no one deserves that fate, not even Potter and Weasley."

"Then what about me?"

His heart was in his throat. Memory of her being tortured on his drawing room floor was muddled by the blow in his chest at the resurgence of the raw pain he had felt witnessing it. He had felt hopeless, wanting to stop it, but not knowing how.

Suddenly, Draco understood why she was the person he wanted to prove himself a changed man the most to.

"I have never liked Potter and Weasley and likely never will," he carefully began, "but you're a brilliant witch, and it was my own ignorance that prevented me from ever saying that to you earlier." He emitted a soft chuckle before staring deep into her eyes. "For as much as my younger self never wanted to admit it, I now recognise your talent and intelligence as well."

With one single confession, the overwhelming burden of guilt began to lift off his chest. It could never undo what he had done — nothing ever could — but the recognition of his errors was a start.

He didn't expect anything in return from Granger. He wasn't sure he deserved it. Yet when he continued to stare at her, he felt a shift between them. As if this was what she had been hoping for since their first night in the forest — simple recognition of her as his equal.

The moment promptly ended, though, when Draco caught sight of something approaching from the shadows. Amongst the sea of black appeared a brilliant white presence brighter than fresh powder snow on a sunlit morning. Even with minimal illumination from above, its horn glistened and sparkled like the most flawless gem in the Malfoy Gringotts vault. And there, beside the grown unicorn, shone the golden coat of its child.

Nothing but shortened breathing escaped him and Granger as the pair of unicorns slowly trotted towards them. The sight of a unicorn was never less than stunning. But it wasn't the full-grown unicorn that garnered most of Draco's attention; it was the baby. Based on its small stature, the young unicorn couldn't have been more than a couple months old, too young to know about the battle that had waged just beyond the forest it now considered its home. Where was the baby's other parent? Had it been another undeserving victim in the final hours of the war? Draco didn't want to know.

Beside him, Granger had retrieved Ollivander's book she had previously shrunk into her robes pocket. She once more turned to the page about the Rebonding Ritual.

"You need to wait for the unicorn to approach you," Granger whispered in instruction. "The ritual won't work if the unicorn isn't here on its own accord."

Draco nodded his understanding, though his mouth instantly ran dry. He wasn't sure what he would do if this didn't work.

The pair of unicorns was still several feet away when the adult one stopped. Momentary fear trickled through Draco that this meant that the baby would stop as well, but it continued its path straight towards Draco.

"This is a good start," Granger continued to whisper. "Baby unicorns are much more trustworthy and receptive to male touch."

Draco remembered that detail from Grubbly-Plank's lessons, but he didn't bother to say as much. He was too transfixed by the fact that the unicorn was actually approaching him, until finally, it paused right in front of Draco's feet.

Mild relief began to sprout inside him. "It's beautiful," Draco marvelled. "Can I touch it?"

"As long as you're respectful," Granger advised. "If it moves away, pins its ears, or raises its head, pull back. We don't want it to run away."

With tentative fingers, Draco slowly reached out to touch the baby unicorn's golden coat. It was like touching the finest silk robes at Madam Malkin's. Flawless. And to Draco's great relief, the unicorn didn't back away. He even lowered his head and stepped closer.

"I think it likes you," he heard Granger say.

"Thank Merlin," he returned, eyes still locked on the magical creature leaning into his touch. But he wasn't here to make a new friend. "So what's next?"

Granger placed a charm on the book and it drifted into the air. She pointed her finger mid-page and began to read.

"The Rebonding Ritual between a witch or wizard and their wand is a delicate process and must be completed in front of a living, willing unicorn. As the runic symbol of the number one, unicorns have a powerful presence that, when used appropriately, can repair a broken connection through a soul cleansing process. A hair from the unicorn must be carefully removed from the unicorn's tail and used to wrap around the wand owner's hand with the wand in their grip. A partner must then recite 'Munda meam' to activate the cleansing process. While anyone can do the spell, it is most likely to work when—" her words momentarily halted before she finished "—when completed by someone the wand and its owner have wronged."

Draco froze his petting of the unicorn, the full process of the ritual sinking in. "Then I suppose I'm lucky you're the one here with me," he darkly noted.

The book flipped closed. " Lucky? " Granger laughed — actually laughed — as she peered at Draco with mild disbelief. "You honestly think I didn't already know what this ritual entailed when I offered my help? I spent all of last week digging in here for potential answers about your failing wand. Of course I knew the benefit of me being the one to do the spell!" A cool night breeze brushed past them, and Granger pushed a few flyaway curls from her face. "I could have simply dismissed your issues or plainly handed you the ritual and had you figure out for yourself what to do with it, but I didn't." She tilted her head and offered him a half smile. "Because I think we all deserve a fresh start sometimes, don't you?"

A warmth blossomed in Draco's chest as a grin cracked his lips. "I'm certainly not opposed."

The preparations weren't difficult. All the spell required was a single unicorn hair, which the baby hardly noticed was taken from its tail. Draco then watched in silence as the cool touch of Granger's slender fingers gingerly bound the hair around his hand and wand, cautious of the possibility that the thin thread could break. As directed by the book's drawings, Granger looped the hair once around his hand gripping his wand to represent Draco, twisted it twice to represent the intertwined relationship between the wand and its owner, and then looped it around again to represent the wand itself. The remaining length, of which there wasn't much, dangled in the growing breeze.

Nerves danced inside Draco while the baby unicorn stood witness. He prayed to Merlin this would work. But with Granger performing the spell, he knew he was in good hands.

"You ready?"

Draco nodded.

"Close your eyes."

He caught a final glimpse of Granger's wand poised at the ready before he did what he was told.

"Hold still," she instructed. "And whatever happens, don't let go of your wand. It will be over soon."

The voicing of the spell didn't register in Draco's brain, too distracted by the blinding light that emitted from the tip of her wand and strained his vision. Like a jolt of lightning, something zapped at his wand hand, causing a surge of shock to ripple through his system. A blazing heat radiated up his arm, spread across his chest, and travelled to every extremity. Draco blinked, trying to bring his vision back to the forest, but all he found was a never-ending void of whiteness. Gone were the trees, the unicorn, Granger. He saw nothing.

The heat started to dwindle, and Draco latched onto hope that the worst of the ritual was complete. A veil of grey reappeared over his eyes, yet instead of his vision returning to the darkened landscape, he was confronted by a series of materialised memories.

Disarming Dumbledore, attempting to Crucio Potter, poisoning the mead, Imperio- ing Madam Rosmerta. The scenes came in flashes like repeated stabs to his morality. Petrifying Potter, spying on Dumbledore's Army, blasting a curse on Granger's teeth. He knew these moments; he had lived these moments. Enchanting the buttons, summoning that snake.

In each new flash of memory, Draco grew younger and the offence turned less extreme, but the blow in his chest was all the same. The moments were linked like breadcrumbs guiding a pathway in reverse — the trail of events that had shaped him into the wizard he had become, the one who had done so much wrong.

"I fucked up, I know!" he shouted at no one. "You think I don't already realise that?"

Suddenly, a searing pain scorched the palm gripping his wand, and Draco let out a scream. It was agony. Torture.

Retribution.

Wave after wave of harrowing torment seemed to penetrate every last cell in his system. He didn't know how much more he could take. But no matter how bad it hurt, not once did Draco loosen his hold on his wand.

A shock of bright white once more obscured his vision, and the pain promptly stopped. Draco fell to his knees, short breaths panting out his lips as he regained his senses. Both palms pressed flat against a smooth, blank floor, and a startling realisation struck him. His wand was gone.

Draco's eyes darted across the floor, searching for where he may have dropped it, but it was nowhere to be seen. His focus was pulled elsewhere, though, when he properly observed his surroundings, discovering that he was back inside another memory. Only this time, he wasn't witnessing it. He was reliving it.

Rows of narrow boxes precariously stacked on top of one another lined his periphery while directly in front of him stood a white-haired wizard with wide, pale eyes.

A voice boomed like an echo from all around.

"It's a rare thing for a wizard of your background to be selected by such a wand, Mr Malfoy. A rare thing, indeed. The purity of a unicorn tail wand is not to be taken lightly, and you'd be wise to remember that. We must never forget that the wand picks the wizard, and there must be a good reason that this one selected you."

A frail hand picked up a wand box and outstretched it to Draco. He removed the lid, revealing his Hawthorn wand, still in its pristine condition, years from being tainted by Draco's choices.

Staggering heartbeats jumped inside his chest as Draco reached for the wand. His fingers trembled before wrapping around the familiar smooth, black handle, and he felt the same warmth in his fingertips that he had experienced the first time he had picked up this wand. He raised it in the air, and a stream of sparks emitted from its tip. Yet these weren't meaningless sparks like the ones when he had tried to perform the nonverbal spells; they were sparks of celebration.

A shower of golden dancing lights illuminated the wand shop until they filled the space and blurred Draco's vision one last time. When they cleared, he was back in the Forbidden Forest.

Granger rushed towards him. "Are you alright?" Her hands braced his biceps as she checked him head to toe.

There was a short skip in his pulse that Draco quickly moved past. "I'm fine," he assured her. "A tad lightheaded is all."

Her gaze transferred to his wand, still in his hand from the memory at Ollivanders. "Did it work?"

Draco stilled his breathing. The wand worked in the memory. But would it work now?

He adjusted his grip on the handle and looked out at his surroundings. The unicorns were no longer there. A faint pit formed in his stomach. He hoped that wasn't a bad sign.

Lifting his chin up, Draco straightened himself out. No more stalling.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the spell. " Lumos. "

The tip of the Hawthorn wand immediately illuminated. No need for repetition or shouting. It simply listened.

A smile beamed across Draco's lips. He chuckled. Laughed. His wand worked.

Even Granger was smiling as Draco performed spell after spell. Nox. Aguamenti. Engorgio. Accio. He executed each one of them with perfect precision.

There was a lightness in his chest that he hadn't felt in ages, like the burden of the past few years had finally been taken off his shoulders. Yet a lingering question remained.

"Why do you think this wand chose me?"

Her head slightly canted. "You mean, why a wand with a unicorn tail core?"

His expression cast downward to the wand spinning between two fingers. "Yes."

He expected her to consider the question for several minutes, yet her response came immediately.

"Perhaps it sensed that you were going to be tempted by the Dark Arts but also saw the potential for good in you as well," she said before offering him a small grin. "After all, I couldn't be the only one who believed there was more to you than an overinflated ego and slicked back blond hair."

Draco lightly snorted. "That hair really was terrible, wasn't it?"

"Dreadful," she agreed, her grin growing ever brighter. "You're much cuter now."

His ears perked. Cute? She thought he was cute?

From the wide-eyed shock on her face, it appeared Granger was just as surprised by her own admission. The same pink-tinted flush that had adorned her cheeks earlier resurfaced. And Draco had to admit the look made her rather cute herself.

A smirk crept across Draco's lips as he raised one arm and slowly pushed his fingers through his hair, but Granger's sudden gasp stopped him before he could actually say anything.

Momentary concern washed over him, fearful that she had just now noticed something that had gone wrong with the ritual, but Granger's reaction was not one of horror. He hardly had time to process before Granger had tugged his wrist into her hold and yanked up his loose robes sleeve — the left sleeve — revealing an unmarked forearm.

All other thoughts fell from Draco's mind. "It's gone."

Draco held his breath as two of Granger's fingers brushed over the area where his faded Dark Mark had been mere minutes earlier. He had regretted getting it the moment it was forcibly seared into his skin. Never had he dreamed that it would ever be fully removed. And yet, somehow, the ritual had done that as well.

"A cleansing ritual that eradicates the Dark Magic from both your wand and your soul," she softly spoke, Draco now recalling those words from her initial description of the Rebonding Ritual. She looked up at him with wide, brown eyes and smiled. "The spell really did work."

A tingle fluttered in his chest. "This truly is a fresh start."

They walked back to the castle together, Draco now able to cast his own Disillusionment Charm. The spell was still a tad rusty, but it was infinitely better than the last time he had tried it. He accepted that some aspects of his wandwork were going to need practice. That would all improve with time, though. As for now, he was simply happy to have his bond with his wand back.

Careful not to make a loud enough noise for Filch or Mrs Norris to notice, Granger pulled open the castle doors, and they slipped back inside. No one crossed their paths as they proceeded to the Grand Staircases, the point where they would go their separate ways. They exchanged whispered goodnights, but when it came time for Draco to take the path down to the dungeons, he found he wasn't ready.

It had been an eventful evening, and despite his initial reservations, he was endlessly grateful for Granger's help. But it was more than just that. Once their barriers had crumbled, their lingering animosity had faded along with it. It seemed that Granger's intuition about them during first year had been right: there was common ground between them. He had just been too prejudiced to see it. But now that he had, he didn't want things to go back to the way they had been before.

He heard the sound of Granger's footsteps headed up one of the staircases, and Draco chased after her.

"Wait!"

It was harder to find her in a Disillusioned state but his hand found the curve of her shoulder just fine. He removed the spell on them both.

"Malfoy, what are you—"

"What if I had never been a pureblood prat?"

She wrinkled her forehead. "Excuse me?"

"What if I had never been a pureblood prat," he repeated, hoping she didn't notice the mild desperation in his tone, "and instead, you and I had gotten to properly know each other. Do you think things could have been… different between us?"

She released a gentle snicker. "Well, they certainly couldn't have been much worse," she cleverly retorted. "But as it turns out, when you're not trying to undermine my existence, you're not too terrible."

Newfound easiness lightened his muscles while a slow smirk crept up Draco's lips. "Not too terrible," he taunted, eyebrow now raised, "and perhaps not too bad looking either?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't let your ego reinflate over a single comment."

"Ah, but if I recall correctly, you also called me talented and intelligent, so that's actually three comments," Draco playfully toyed, a swell of confidence now brimming in his chest. "If you're not careful, Granger, you might have to amend your insistence that there's no chance that you'd fancy me."

Granger huffed, yet Draco caught a sense of pertness behind the dismissal. "So you're no longer a pureblood prat, just your typical pompous one."

He let out a laugh. "That's one way to put it," he accepted. "But as long as I'm a pompous prat that you wouldn't mind spending more time with in the future, I'll allow it."

With a parting wink, Draco turned from her, now satisfied with how he left things, but he only made it a few steps before Granger called after him.

"Would you like to study for the Charms exam together?"

Draco spun around, a tad concerned that his grin around her was growing permanent. "Shouldn't you be afraid that you won't get the highest score now that my wand is fully functioning again?"

He twirled his wand between his fingers, and Granger flashed a smile of her own as she shrugged. "Where's the fun in test taking if there isn't a bit of competition involved?"

Draco quite liked the sound of that.

"I'll be in the library tomorrow night at half past seven. You can find me…"

"Third table on the left next to the Transfiguration section." Draco smirked. "I know."

Granger gave him a nod, and he was positive the blush on her cheeks had returned. "I'll see you then."

As Draco finally made his way back to the Slytherin dormitory, he travelled down the steps with a lightness to his gait. Wand in his hand, he emitted a trail of celebratory sparks, not concerned in the slightest if he got caught. His bond with his wand was back, but with the study plan in place, he had a feeling that his bonding time with Granger was far from over.

Massive thank you to everyone for reading! I'd love to hear what you thought :) Also, feel free to check out my other stories as well. I hope you're all staying healthy. And remember to wash your hands! Until next time xx