I don't know if I want to giggle because you guys are just so awesome and supportive, or cry because this is the end. Either way, I want to sincerely thank all of you who have shown your support and enthusiasm throughout this very dramatic, emotional, angsty, fluffy adventure of mine. It means so much to me that everyone seems to have enjoyed reading this story just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

When I started this, I honestly wasn't sure what kind of a reaction I would get. I don't know exactly what I was expecting, but this is much, much better. I'm just glad you guys understand what I call my Dramione Imagination, and I'm especially glad that I got the chance to share this with you.

Anyway, that's enough of my babbling. This next part is incredibly short compared to the others. I decided to make it short and sweet and incredibly fluffy. This is the end! But it's not really the end, is it? Because there's no real end to Draco and Hermione – especially in my world.

So without further ado, because I just don't want to wait anymore, here's the final installment!

Enjoy

[Epilogue: Another Beginning]

Six Months Later
August 18

Hermione Grangeris all tanned skin, shoulder length curly hair and yellow sun dress as she steps off the elevator on her floor. She's carrying her purse over her right shoulder while lugging her suitcase behind her. Her flight landed just half an hour ago; she'd taken a taxi from the airport. She could've just apparated straight to her flat from her parent's home in Australia but she needed the time to calm her jumbled nerves. Although, it seems, neither the flight or the car ride has provided her with enough time to calm the aching feeling in the pit of her stomach.

And despite the familiar knots taking residence there, she feels like a new woman. Confident. Independent. Healthy. Fearless. She's found herself again. And for the first time since falling into that wild, tumultuous, emotional roller coaster of an affair, she knows exactly who she is.

And whether He decides he's still interested or not, she is determined to find happiness.

As she walks down the hallway towards her apartment, she finds herself reflecting on what she's coming home to.

Harry has just been made Head Auror.

Ginny is finallypregnant after several months of trial and error.

Ron has proposed to Lavender, who is currently driving him mad with wedding preparations.

Terry Boot is dating Pansy Parkinson – go figure.

Neville finally worked up the courage to ask Luna out last weekend, before losing it all over the floor.

Luna still plans to go on the date.

And Astoria has found love, in Paris, with a muggle.

As for Draco, well-

-her breath hitches in her throat as she rounds the corner. She stares, frozen at the sight before her. It's nothing, really, just a man in a tuxedo, leaning against her door with a goofy grin and playful, passionate grey eyes. His blond hair is longer – but not by much, he's grown some light stubble across his jaw and has he always been that tall? That wide? That...handsome?

Her vision begins to blur from unshed tears. She sniffs them back, walking on shaky legs towards him.
He pushes himself away from the door and only then does she notice the bouquet of flowers in his arms. Her heart soars, beating wildly in her chest; she can hear it in her ears.

Only one thought comes to mind. He's interested. And suddenly it doesn't matter that she hasn't spoken to or heard from him in four months. It doesn't matter that she spent her whole flight chewing apart her lip and playing with her hair like a ridiculous teenager. It doesn't matter that while a part of her was determined to move on completely, she was ready to throw herself into a ball on her bed and let her heart break just one more time.

She stops halfway down the hall because the air keeps choking her and her legs are threatening to fail her and, quite frankly, she just doesn't know to do with herself.

He's the first to break his silence and his voice is like gold.

"This is probably lame, I know," he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "But I did some research – and by research I mean I watched some of those disgustingly romantic muggle movies and in about 95 per cent of them there were men in suits with flowers – and this is all I could come up with." He grins cheekily, his eyes shining with mirth. And then, all at once, his demeanor is serious. Tentative. "I don't know how to do this, Granger. I don't know to ask you out without making it all about how charming and good looking I am. I don't know how ask you to give me another chance without making it sound like I'm trying to manipulate you. I don't know how a guy like me can end up so completely infatuated and smitten by a woman like you, who is so perfect and brilliant and so far above me. I don't know how to tell you that even though cheating on my wife was stupid and selfish and reckless, it was the best thing I ever did because I found you. I don't know how to convince you that I'm interested – that I will always be interested, because I'm in love you – but I'm really hoping I don't have to try for much longer because this suit is suffocating me. I'm hot, I'm sweating, I've been here for hours, waiting, because I was paranoid that you would be early and my opportunity would be gone and-"

Whatever he was about to say – whatever he had planned to keep saying – is lost on him the moment her lips and body collide with his. She throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist – not caring that she's only wearing a dress. Her lips are soft and delicious, moving perfectly against his. His body remains rigid at first, shocked and confused, but then she moans. And he's like putty in her hands, his body curling around hers, supporting her weight as he pushes her against her front door. He groans against her lips, his tongue begging for permission into her warm mouth. She tastes like peppermint toothpaste, chocolate milk and home.

She pulls away, panting, and he let' his face fall into the crook of her neck, pressing himself against her. She strokes his hair, resting her head back against the wall. A happy, lazy, playful smile plays on her lips as she brings them to his ear. "You've got to stop stalking me, Malfoy," she rasps, breathless.

He smirks against her neck before pressing a soft kiss to her sun-kissed skin. "Only if you stop running."

She giggles, then, only to be silenced by his hungry, desperate, loving lips.

Fin!

[I just wanted to add, in case any of you faithful readers have been waiting/looking for it, that I haven't given a clear reason as to why our Draco pursued the affair in the first place. Mostly because sometimes there just isn't a reason; because sometimes things just happen. I wanted to make it mysterious and more about the attraction and the relationship between lovers, than about the circumstance itself. Anyway, thank you guys again!]