A/N: here it is, folks – the final chapter. And, no – there aren't any lemons. I'm all lemoned out after chapter 19!

There's a long A/N at the end… lots of people to thank!

Hermione kept her word and moved into Draco's stunning city flat after she'd given her notice at her Vancouver law office and organised the movers.

She expected to feel nostalgic about leaving the country she'd known all her life. But when she was sitting in First Class on the plane back to the UK, a surprising tear splashed onto her book. It was joined by another, then another. The more she tried to stop them, the harder they fell.

The First Class cabin crew were noted for their professionalism as well as their impeccable customer service standards. Jill, the attendant assigned to Hermione's area, kept an eye on the young lady who was trying to discreetly stifle her sobs, knowing that most people preferred to grieve in private.

Soon, Hermione stood up and headed blindly to the bathroom, where she collapsed onto the seat by the vanity mirror and sobbed.

On the flight deck, the entry buzzer went off. First Officer Zabini glanced at the monitor. 'It's Jill,' he said. He checked his watch and let her in. 'Is it morning tea time already?'

'You and your never-ending stomach,' Captain Malfoy snorted.

'I'm a growing boy,' Blaise grinned.

Jill entered the flight deck. To Blaise's disappointment, she was empty-handed.

'Captain Malfoy,' she said, 'your friend in 3A seems very distressed. I wasn't sure whether' –

Draco and Blaise exchanged looks. 'Go,' Blaise urged.

Draco pulled himself out of his seat and grabbed his hat. 'Thanks, Jill,' he said, following her out the door.

Hermione was still in the bathroom some minutes later. She'd almost stopped crying, but she still felt miserably homesick. And stupid.

She jumped when there was a discreet knock on the door, and frantically tried to tidy up her appearance.

'Hermione?' a low voice asked on the other side of the door. 'It's me.'

Hand trembling, she opened the door. Draco stood there in his undisguised pilot's uniform, his concern plain to see.

Looking at her tear-stained face, he entered the spacious bathroom and shut the door, not caring who saw him. He drew her into his arms and held her tight, kissing the top of her hair and slowly stroking her back until her body stopped shaking.

He didn't have to say a word.

Draco's flat was, of course, stunning. Hermione traversed every single room with her mouth hanging open the first time he showed her around.

It was a loft conversion of an old brick building that overlooked the Thames and its permanent, if symbolic defender, the stout grey light cruiser HMS Belfast. The views from the balcony were so breathtaking that Hermione actually cried, watching the sun sink slowly over the horizon and the lights around the city's ancient, beautiful monuments wink into life.

Most of the flat was taken up by a massive central room, which contained the spacious kitchen – with inbuilt wine chiller, of course - living/dining area, access to a terrace and a library! Hermione's eyes popped when she saw it. One wall had been converted into floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, festooned with beautiful coffee-table books that Draco admitted he hadn't read. She couldn't wait for her belongings to arrive from Vancouver so she could populate the shelves with proper books.

She almost swooned when Draco (with a smirk) pressed one of the end shelves. There was a click, and the bookcase opened to reveal a set of stairs leading down. 'Emergency exit,' he explained unnecessarily – she wasn't listening to him. She was busy exploring the stairwell and figuring out how the latch worked.

The entire area glinted in the light from the spacious windows. The walls contained remnants of the building's original bricks, and the floors were polished wood. With underfloor heating, of course.

Exposed timber beams crossed the high ceiling. Hermione loved what looked like a doorway standing oddly on the floor near the library. It showed where the floor's original walls once stood. Draco said it was cursed – every time he turned around, he swore it had moved behind him, ready for him to smack into it.

The main and guest bedrooms were beautiful, each with doors leading onto the terrace. Hermione was a little cautious about the master bathroom, though. It contained the largest bath she'd ever seen, along with a massive walk-in shower, a feat of engineering surrounded only on two sides by opaque glass. These fixtures were lovely, but after she idly thought that the shiny white brick-sized tiles reminded her of a morgue in the time of Jack the Ripper, she couldn't get that feeling of unease out of her head, much to Draco's amusement.

It took some convincing to entice her into a shared bath. A little Dutch courage helped.

The terrace was one big, long rectangle that ran the length of the two bedrooms and the living room, but massive boxes of planters had been installed to create three partitions. They also afforded privacy from nearby buildings and people motoring up and down the Thames.

On Hermione's first night in the city, she stood on the terrace, leaning against the large timber picnic table, marvelling at the beautiful evening lights. Draco came up to her with two glasses of chilled champagne. He handed her one, and they clinked their glasses together.

'To our new life,' Draco said softly.

She took his free hand. 'Our new life,' she smiled.

She sipped the champagne slowly, adjusting to the sights and sounds of the populous city.

'You know, most of the time you can't see the sun at all,' Draco said, deadpan.

She bared her teeth. 'I'd shove you, but you might spill your drink, and it's too lovely to waste.'

'Too kind,' he murmured.

Draco brought the champagne – sitting in its ice bucket - outside, and they curled up together on a timber lounger, overlaid with a fitted, waterproof cushion.

'You know,' Draco said thoughtfully, 'we've got all these rooms to christen, now.'

Hermione laughed into his chest. 'I'm beginning to think you're sex-crazed.'

He stuck his nose up in the air. 'I prefer to be known as a connoisseur.'

Idly, she undid the buttons to his shirt. 'Does the terrace count as a room?' she asked idly.

He hardened immediately.

'I think it should, for thoroughness.'

He ghosted his hand along her thigh and beneath her sundress. He smiled when he discovered that she wasn't wearing panties. He approved.

He kissed her gently on her lips. 'It can get quite drafty in London, sometimes,' he murmured. 'As much as I enjoy this' – he grasped her bottom and kneaded it – 'I don't think London's public are quite ready to receive an eyeful of your beauty on a windy day.'

She slowly undid his belt. 'Admit it. You don't want anyone else to see what I have beneath my skirt.'

Suddenly, he ground his erection against her body. She let out a breath.

'That too,' he admitted. 'Especially that. You know why?' He put down his wine glass, and took hers, too.

She shook her head, her eyes wide. Her curls bounced.

His blue eyes glittered. 'Because you're mine,' he growled.

His kiss was possessive.

The sun had set, but the terrace was lit from the city lights and the lamps they'd left on in the main room. Hermione unzipped her dress and Draco feverishly pulled it down, revealing her breasts. He lifted his hips and she tugged his jeans and underwear down.

She straddled his body, grinding along his hard length, coating it with her wetness.

'Hermione' – he growled.

She understood. She raised herself up and guided his cock underneath her pussy, aching for him –

- and engulfed him in one brutal stroke.

Draco's cry of exultation set the nearby pigeons fluttering off in all directions.

Hermione had control this time. She teased him with her pert breasts and pink nipples, and he took the bait, dragging them into his mouth with his tongue, sucking and pulling and driving her crazy.

Her movements became jerky and she threw her head back, riding him hard. He took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately, thrusting his hips up to meet her.

'I can't believe how lucky I am to be with you,' he whispered –

She orgasmed. Just like that.

Moving up and down on his cock, she whispered 'I love you so much…'

He ejaculated into her body, burying his face in her shoulder. So he could hide his emotions.

Hermione sailed through her Qualified Lawyers Transfer Test, and soon found an opportunity in that hallowed legal haven called Chancery Lane, just a fifteen-minute bus ride from the flat.

Of course, the flat was convenient for Draco when heading to and from Heathrow, so they spent more of their time in London than they did the country…

…which made it quite a conundrum for the couple, figuring out who got to move in with whom six months later.

However, when Draco's London landlord, much encouraged by his best client's return to the building, offered him the floor underneath the flat for 'expansion' (this said while he wiggled his eyebrows at Hermione's tummy in a way she didn't like), they decided to spend the majority of their time in London and all the weekends they could at the vineyard.

If my Vancouver friends could see me now! Hermione laughed to herself. A city flat and a country 'estate!'

She felt like a Beverly Hillbilly – at least until she watched Draco enter the room, with his effortless grace and leonine movements. And sexy smile.

And then she felt very, very lucky.

Six months later

Draco and Hermione hosted a Christmas party in the London flat for their friends.

Glen and Izzy came over early – in the vineyard's brand new four-wheel drive - to help prep food, fire up the barbeque, and – most importantly – chill the drinks. Izzy deftly mixed a couple of gin and tonics and brought them over to Hermione, who was sniggering at Draco's Christmas playlist on his laptop in the living room.

'He's all moved in, then?' she asked, handing the drink to Hermione.

'Yep,' she grinned.

Izzy pouted. 'I'm so pissed you didn't make the vineyard your home,' she sulked.

'No, you're not. Now you have a place to base yourself when you come in to shop!' Hermione laughed.

'True,' Izzy giggled.

'Is Luca coming?'

'Hmm…' Izzy tapped her finger against her chin. 'We don't have that sort of relationship.'

'You don't?' Hermione asked.

Izzy smiled, just like a cat. 'He's good for fucking, but not much else,' she whispered.

Hermione's lips quirked. 'I daresay you're right.'

'Did you tell Draco about Luca's proposal to paint you?'

Hermione smiled. 'Oh, yes.'

'And?'

'Oh, no!'

The both sniggered and rolled their eyes at the possessiveness of their man-in-common.

'How do you communicate when he's away?' Izzy asked softly.

Hermione's ears turned pink. 'We Skype,' she murmured.

Izzy's delicate eyebrows shot to the ceiling.

'Not every night,' Hermione continued. 'It's good to have alone time, too. And trust each other.'

Izzy hugged her impulsively. 'You're a gem,' she said sincerely.

'So!' Izzy said brightly. 'Any unattached ladies attending this party? I have a certain brother who keeps stubbornly staying single.'

The flat's lift doors pinged open. 'Let's see what we've got,' Hermione suggested. Izzy scooped up a tray of filled champagne glasses, and they headed to the entryway.

Harry, his professional hockey-star wife Ginny and their little cherub James arrived first, looking slightly apologetic, but social events where they could bring their boisterous baby along were rare.

Izzy looked alarmed at the tiny vocal child, but Hermione scooped him into her arms, tickled his belly and welcomed his parents into the flat. 'The spare room is yours if you need private time with James,' she told Ginny, who deposited her flotilla of baby equipment there.

'Wonderful!' she said happily. She grabbed a filled bottle out of a bag with thousands of pockets. 'Show me the microwave, then the G&Ts!'

James turned out to be the hit of the party. He sat in a well-cushioned space in the living room, playing with this and tossing around that, happily succumbing to the coos of the ladies who flocked around him like a rock star and went crazy when he held up a toy for them to inspect. Harry and Ginny couldn't remember the last time they attended a party with so many babysitters.

'You're sure I can't tempt you to the airline?' Harry smiled, standing next to Hermione out on the sunny terrace.

She blushed. 'I think I should put my feet under this desk first,' she admitted.

He sighed dramatically, but smiled all the same. 'I'll try again in a year,' he promised.

She smiled. 'You know where I live.'

Blaise and Astoria arrived, late, of course. Each happily blamed the other for their tardiness, but everyone could tell from their glowing faces that it was a joint activity that kept both from arriving on time.

Blaise wrapped Hermione in a bear hug that took her breath away. 'How are you, love?' he beamed. 'You're still a long way from the East End, but I'm sure I can convert you!'

'It's hard enough just trying to be a Londoner!' she gasped.

He kissed her cheek. 'Just keep being you,' he said fondly.

Draco hadn't seen Astoria in months, and marvelled at the change in her appearance. She was no longer a brassy blonde, and now sported rich, long, shiny dark brown hair.

'My mum insisted that being blonde was the only way to live, but obviously it isn't,' Astoria confessed as Hermione made her a lemon-lime iced water. 'And peroxide's so bloody unhealthy!'

Hermione laughed. 'You look like a movie star,' she said sincerely. 'So, what are you up to now?'

Astoria blushed. 'Harry offered me a job in Human Resources after I resigned,' she said. 'He's dead keen on changing the airline's culture, and he liked my 'direct' method of correspondence.'

Hermione hugged her impulsively. 'You're enjoying the job?'

'Oh, definitely.'

'And… you're enjoying Blaise?'

Astoria turned beet red. 'Well…'

They both burst out laughing.

Draco and Blaise looked over at the two women. 'I'm sure there's a saying that warns men to beware of hysterically happy women,' Blaise murmured.

Draco snorted. 'Whatever mess you've gotten yourself into, you can get yourself out of it.'

Izzy and Pansy, birds of a feather, got on famously. Eventually, Izzy introduced Pansy to Glen, who, until that time, was tethered to the barbeque. A sharp look from Izzy had Theo and Marcus hurriedly taking over meat-charring duties outside in the cold, and Pansy and Glen were left to get to know each other.

At length, the food was consumed, drinks were poured, stories were told and a baby slept like the dead from all the entertaining he did.

It was time for toasts.

Draco went first. 'I'd love to raise a toast to Hermione, who is incredibly special to me' – he smiled at her, and she blushed – 'but she wouldn't want the fuss. So instead, I'd like to raise a toast to Christmas, friends, and family.'

'To Christmas, friends, and family,' they chorused.

Harry stood up next. 'I'd like to thank Hermione and Draco for putting on this amazing party, and to hope for a successful new year.' He raised his glass.

'A successful new year!'

Blaise stood up, a little self-consciously, which was unusual for him. 'It's been an eventful year,' he started, smiling lopsidedly. 'For me, it was a year of an amazing down – but also, an amazing up. I've met a beautiful woman who's happy to tolerate me and my ways' –

Everyone laughed, and Astoria blushed.

'and' – he took a breath – 'will be the mother of our child' –

'Omigod!' Pansy screamed and rushed over to Astoria, who turned as pink as the bowl of beetroot on the table. They hugged fiercely, and Hermione joined in. Astoria tried, but couldn't keep tears of happiness from sliding down her face. And from poking her tongue out at her partner.

Draco, Theo and Marcus vigorously shook a blushing Blaise's hand. 'You old dog!' Marcus crowed.

More sedately, Theo clapped Blaise on the back. 'Well done, son,' he laughed.

Draco hugged Blaise fiercely, and Blaise did the same. 'You know what this calls for?' Draco asked.

Blaise laughed. 'I've got no idea what goes on in your head.'

'Come on.'

Draco headed to the table and called for everyone's attention. 'This is something that's long overdue on my part,' he confessed. 'But I think now's a good time to make the gesture.'

Marcus was at sea. 'What are you on about?' he demanded.

Draco pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and looked at Hermione. 'I, Draco Malfoy, hereby delete my Tinder profile from my phone.'

The airline component of the party gasped. So did Hermione and Izzy.

Then Blaise held up his phone, followed by Astoria. Pansy turned pale, but gamely held up her phone, blushing at Glen's smile. Theo and Marcus rolled their eyes, but brought their phones out, too.

'Never bloody worked for me anyway,' muttered Marcus.

'On the count of three… one, two…'

Lives were changed. For the better.

The End.

A/N: Haha! I lied! There was a hidden lemon! You'll never trust me again!

Well, this wasn't the easiest fic to write; I'm more comfortable with romantic (okay, smutty) comedy. At times, it was a struggle, but your reviews galvanised me into action, knowing there were so many of you waiting to read what happens next! It's been so humbling, reading your reviews and seeing how many of you really got into the series. Thank you so much!

Thank you, many times over, to the Anonymous Airline Personnel for your stories/recollections, technical info and draft reviews. Your accomplishment probably isn't something you can put on your CVs, but you're definitely entitled to smirk knowingly. I'm indebted.

Special thanks to LaBelladone X, coyg81 and LightofEvolution for your support, encouragement and fistfuls of laughs! La Belladone X and coyg81 attended LeakyCon 2017 in Dublin (lucky things) and talked to a certain Harry Potter actor who'd read the story. Finding that out was a high point in my fanfiction career, for sure!

While I'm here… Dear certain Harry Potter actor from LeakyCon 2017: thanks for reading! If I ever meet you, you'll know why I won't be able to look you in the eye without blushing.

Last but not least, thanks to the readers who offered suggestions for the plot along the way, including ones for the future! I'm very grateful for your help.

I'm not planning a third Stopover at this time. I won't say never, I've left a couple of doors open - but I need a breather.

At some point I'll tidy both Stopover parts up, change the names and publish them as a novella online. I'll probably call it Stopover, haha.

And now (drum roll) … back to Treacherous Affairs Two! Hold tight, readers…

Noho ora mai (Stay well)

NeverNik xx