A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of this little story. I know there are tons of time travelling stories out there, so thank you to all of those who read mine anyway. You've all showered me with your love in the reviews, and by following or adding this story to your favourites. It means so very much to me, especially since my work load and update schedule wasn't exactly reader friendly these past weeks. THANK YOU!

I have the greatest luck to call my beta my friend, and she's been with me through all the madness that comes with writing a story. In fact, I couldn't even have done this without her help, so give a huge shout-out to MrBenzedrine! THANK YOU so much, A.!

Hermione woke up in the position she had gone to sleep in: her head resting on Draco's arm, legs intertwined, her bum resting comfortably against his crotch. In the hazy moments between almost being awake and still half asleep, she traced the faint reminders of the Dark Mark on his forearm. It was ugly, yes, but they all had their scars from the War. The skull and the snake were Draco's most obvious, and he had worked so hard to smash the memories of the skull and kill the snake within him.

The arm under her fingers twitched. "It's still there," came a sleepy murmur from behind her.

"Yes, it is," Hermione confirmed, and both of them knew this meant more than the plain fact.

"Am I a bad person for secretly wishing that somehow, through our presence, we changed certain things? For example, the moment when it must have gone downhill with my father and his sick beliefs?" Draco spoke quietly, and she hadn't seen him so somber before. All his walls were lowered in her presence, and she was aware of what a precious gift that was.

She turned in his embrace, looking him square in the eyes. "No, you only show how much you've matured. Instead of acting on your wishes when we were in the past, you debated what was the reasonable way to go."

He hesitated. "About that…"

Her curls flew when she shook her head decisively. "I don't want to know. I see it in your eyes, Draco. Something horrible has happened that you haven't told me yet. And you kept it to yourself not because you mistrust me, but because you want to protect me. Tell me when you think we're both ready for it. I trust you."

"You're really smart." Smiling gratefully, he kissed her nose.

"I know."

She rested her head against his naked chest because they had simply shrugged their clothes off the previous evening, not really bothering to change into sleepwear. That had left Draco in his boxers and herself in her knickers and white undershirt. For some moments, she simply listened to his heartbeat, the silence between them comfortable and perfect.

"What will the others say? About us, I mean?" she asked.

His chest rumbled, chuckling. "I think Theo might cash in some money from Blaise. The git always suspected there was more behind our fighting than two great minds crashing into each other."

Hermione giggled, having suspected nothing less from his best friends. In turn, she thought of her not-time-travelling other best friend. "Ron might need some preparation, though."

"What?" There was an unmistaken edge in the blond's tone, and his heartbeat sped up slightly."Does he still harbour feeling for you?"

"No, not in the romantic sense." The heart rate went down again. "But when it comes to me and men…he's like Harry with an even worse temper."

"It's not the weasel I want to impress. It's you." Before she could come up with a witty response, Draco began to press soft kisses along her jawline. By the time he had reached the juncture of her neck, she had lost track of the conversation. "I think I might pay the Research Department visits in pursuing my goal, then." Straightening again, he traced her bottom lip with his tongue, pleading for entrance to her mouth. She granted him his wishes.

"Oh, you want to risk getting attacked again by some device I'm working on?" Hermione teased, increasingly breathless between kisses. She felt him smirking against her lips.

"No. This time, I'm going to attack you with my device." With a small movement, he bumped his rapidly growing erection against her hip. Something in the witch shifted, and she went from experiencing the pleasant warmth of a morning snog into the irrational heat of sexual foreplay. She lifted her leg and swung it over Draco's in order to pull him closer to her, much closer, in fact.

He, in turn, let one hand wander over her back and under her shirt. With the other, he cupped her breast, kneading and flicking the thumb over the sensitive peak. Hermione didn't even try to contain her moan, and the involuntary roll of her hips against his hardness caused him to hiss. Draco bent his neck, and, through the thin white fabric of her top, sucked at her nipples. She felt the dampness in her knickers spread, and her arousal reached an even higher level when he blew his hot breath over the wet spot.

Suddenly impatient, she hooked her fingers through the waistband of his underwear, fully intending to pull it down, when they were interrupted by the sound of the floo swishing downstairs. They hadn't bothered to lock it down the evening before, she remembered.

Draco, immediately snapping out of his lust filled daze, jumped out of the bed. "Who might that be? Do you have any appointments scheduled at work so they're coming for you?" he asked, tense. She shook her head. That was one of the perks of being the top researcher at the Ministry: she could practically come and go as she liked if she desired so.

"Me neither," the blond whispered, wand already in hand and clearly in Auror mode. Hermione didn't mention that someone looking for Draco clearly wouldn't come to her house. She wove her hand in his direction."Put that away. If someone has access to my Floo, I trust them." Throwing on a bathrobe, she padded down the stairs, even though she pocketed her own wand as precaution.

- And then she was greeted by the impeccably dressed Narcissa Malfoy, magically brushing off the soot from her forest green robes in the middle of her living room. Hermione was torn between pointing her wand at the intruder or laugh at the irony the situation presented. She decided for something in between: politeness.

"Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy. What can I do for you?"

Narcissa's face turned towards her as if indeed expecting Hermione to saunter down the stairs freshly out of bed.

"So formal, dear? Or are you in a funny mood?" Playfully, the older witch gave a little cough. "I'm here to abduct you for our scheduled breakfast, Miss Granger." The smile that followed was genuine and reminded her of that on the younger Narcissa's face before she assessed Hermione's dishevelled appearance and then tilted her head upstairs. As if caught doing something naughty (which was, technically, the truth), the brunette pulled her bathrobe closer around her body.

Narcissa raised her voice and spoke to the ceiling, "Draco, darling, you can come out now. I know you've spent the night here!" Some seconds later, Draco's head peeked around the corner.

"Good morning, Mother. How did you know I was here?" The blond was as flabbergasted as the woman he had spent the night with.

Narcissa smirked, clearly showing her Slytherin side. "Well, for once, who else would be responsible for Hermione's flushed and pleasantly unhinged sight but you? And, secondly, why should the previous night diverge from many in the past...what was it, three years?"

Draco and Hermione gulped, but Narcissa, oblivious of their reaction, turned to the brunette witch. "Really, I hope you two are planning on making this a proper legal arrangement within the next year! All this back and forth between Draco's cottage and here. Grandmother Winifred's ring has waited for you since ages, Hermione!"

While Draco's mother gracefully glided over to the kitchen and flicked her wand at the tea kettle as if she owned the place, Hermione and Draco looked at the living room in broad daylight for the first time.

It was the same as when she left it.

Mostly.

There was a picture of her grandparents, holding hands in front of a Christmas tree, as usual. There was a also a photo of the Golden Trio upon graduation, arms around each other, for once free from the pressures of the War. There was a throw pillow with the Gryffindor crest on the sofa, a present from Molly. So far, so good.

Then, Hermione's eyes spotted a picture of her and Draco, also holding hands in front of a Christmas tree. There was also one with Blaise, Theo, and Draco, the latter with a wildly smiling Albus Potter in a Slytherin onesie on his lap. And, over the back of the armchair in the corner, someone had thrown an Auror robe.

Uh-oh.

Draco and Hermione looked at each other, brown eyes staring into grey, one pair as disbelieving as the other. Things had changed. Apparently, their lives had changed with them, whenever, however. Not for the worse so far in their opinion, for sure, though unexpectedly.

And there was just one phrase rushing through Hermione's head this very moment, adequately describing their situation, and she spilled it out loudly now:

"Great Scott!"

A/N: Before you throw hexes at me, I'm aware that this ending is quite open, buuut...Back to the Future story, right?