This is it. This is the last instalment of Hogwarts: Summer Camp. It's my hope that you have enjoyed it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I wish I had more to say, but thank you for following, commenting, and making this such an enjoyable experience. I'll see you at the end.

"I'm not fooling around with you while there are kids on the other side of this wall. It makes me feel gross." Hermione smacked his wandering hands away, wiggling free of where he held her against him. "Draco," she snapped, exasperated.

"Well, that's not what you were saying a few weeks—"

She glared at him. "I mean while there are children that are still awake."

"That's a relief. So, after they go to sleep—"

Hermione ate in relative silence, grinning at the scene before her. Lisa was at her side, Padma tucked into her other side as they ate breakfast. "So, how long do you give him before he snaps?" Hermione murmured.

Padma snorted. "Not very long. I think Oliver is asking about Harry just to irritate him now." The dark-haired witch wasn't wrong.

"I mean—" Oliver waved his hands for emphasis, his eyes wide with mirth. "—is it really true that Harry Potter cast a corporeal Patronus at age—"

Hermione covered her mouth, sniggering to herself. She watched Draco's reaction, noticing the way his cheeks were flushed while everyone assaulted him with questions. She froze in place as she realised she'd never asked Draco if his attempts to cast a Patronus had been successful.

The possibility was dizzying.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, heavily sighing. "Yes, yes, he cast the bloody Patronus, but I suspect that you already knew that."

Oliver rocked back on his heels, his laughter contagious as it bubbled up on his lips. "Definitely not," he said.

Owls swept into the camp, dropping parcels into the laps of all of the campers. In an instant, the playfulness of the morning evaporated as everyone turned over the letters in the laps. Hermione sat frozen in place, her own emotions welling up as there was a familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Henry sat cross legged in the dirt, grass stains spread across his pants. He fingered the parcel tentatively, turning it over and reading his name written across the front. And then he raised his head, looking to Draco, to Hermione, and all of the campers between them. The beginnings of tears had surfaced, his eyes misty under the bright morning sun. "Do we have to go back?"

She moved before she thought about it, slid out from her spot between her two friends, and hurried over to Henry. "We'll still be at Hogwarts together." She murmured. Her own letter was still gripped tightly in her hand, crinkling beneath the weight of her own crippling sadness. If she didn't believe her own words, she wasn't sure how anyone else could be expected to.

Everyone—everyone, including Leanne, who had left her letter where it landed—came closer, sitting in a large circle in the middle of the camp. As Hermione looked around, not everyone was overcome with the onset of tears, but there was no mistaking the overwhelming sadness. She noticed Isobel taking Henry's hand from the other side of him, lacing their fingers together.

"We won't really be together," Isobel said slowly. Her voice was still rough, but Healers at St Mungos said her voice would return to normal through regular speaking. Though she'd developed a sort of speech impediment, presumably from a stray curse that rebounded against a mirror while Isobel's older sister was cursed by Death Eaters. "We'll be in the same castle, but...it's a big castle."

Michael cleared his throat. "We can still—"

Adelaide fidgeted in her spot, untangling her braid. "No, it's not the same. And we might as well say what everyone here is thinking. This is—this is family. It has been for a while now, and I can't stand the thought of not eating breakfast with everyone." She stared at the ground.

Hermione's throat threatened to close as she tried to form any words at all.

Draco's arm brushed hers. "We're returning to Hogwarts, all of us, but it doesn't mean that our family is breaking up."

"Most of us are in separate years," Oliver muttered, running a hand through his hair. His older sister rubbed his back from her spot beside him.

She wasn't sure what to say, but in the end, no one else knew either. She supposed she could have pulled a whimsical piece of advice out of the air, but the silence was fitting. Even though sharp pains stuck in her chest.

Hermione ripped open the letter away from everyone else, her eyes scanning the typically penned letter. However, another letter had been delivered later in the day as she watched everyone in the lake, with Draco at her side.

She recognised Harry's scrawl the moment she looked at the front of it. Swallowing, she unfolded it.

Dear Hermione,

I meant to write sooner. I swear I did, but the Ministry is speeding up the levels of our clearance, and I haven't been in the same place for more than one night in a week. I couldn't send a letter in the case it was intercepted. Though you probably already figured that out for yourself.

I'm sorry Ron was a prick. He won't apologise so I'll do it for him. He didn't have any right to barge in and question your relationship. (Even though it's still strange to me, but I'm working on it. I'll get past it.) On that note, he didn't have the right to try and force you to choose. Friends don't do that.

I can't wait to see you at the end of the summer. I won't be able to visit long, but I'd like to see you off at the platform. Let me know if that's okay, would you?

If this comes off as rude, I didn't mean for it to. I've rewritten this part of the letter so many times that I may be overthinking it. Are you sure you know what you're doing? I don't doubt you, or your feelings, but I want to ask directly if Malfoy is what you want. It's bizarre thinking of the two of you together, but I thought there was something there when Lestrange attacked you.

I heard about it because I'm an Auror in training, but the entire world heard about it after the Wizengamot hearing. When they said you were alone with Malfoy, I thought the worst. I thought he left you, but he saved your life. The Ministry may not agree with the methods, and I may not agree either, but it is what it is. He defended you in the best way he knew how.

This is a long letter. What I wanted to say is that I'm sorry for Ron, and I'm trying to make him see this differently. I'm happy for you if you're happy. And you are, from what I saw anyway. Watching you run to him in the atrium that night was like stepping into an alternate reality, but I could see it.

No matter who makes you happy, I'll always be your best friend. God, that was cheesy.

See you soon hopefully,

Harry.

Hermione read the letter twice more that night while sitting in Draco's room. Her staying in his cabin was the worst kept secret in the camp, but after the first few times, she knew she slept better when he was there. Just like she knew it was the same for him. It might have also had something to do with all of the beginnings of a new relationship, the chemistry, them being unable to keep their hands to themselves for one second.

While sitting in the middle of his bed while Draco showered, Hermione thought that it hadn't been like this with Ron. She didn't compare Ron to Draco, she never would, because it wasn't fair. Draco had already decimated every part of her previous relationship, replacing it with his own actions that left her gasping for breath.

She folded and unfolded Harry's letter, deciding to let Draco read it. She'd come to a decision; Hermione wanted to be open with Draco, no matter the subject matter, even if it seemed like a silly thing to share. Still, she was thrilled that at least one of her friends would support her, even though it meant putting a strain on his own friendships.

Draco exited the shower, but he'd already dressed this time. Still not wearing a shirt since he didn't wear one to bed, a pair of silk pyjama bottoms were slung low on his hips. Hermione smiled to herself, biting her lower lip as she looked him over. His hair was still damp, water dripping off the ends and to the floor.

"What's that?"

She handed over the long piece of parchment. "Letter from Harry. You can read it if you like."

Arching an eyebrow, Draco read it quickly. "He's supportive. A little surprising." He laid the letter on the nightstand, crawling onto the bed to sit in front of her. "I assumed that my killing Rodolphus would end up in the Daily Prophet, but I didn't expect for them to publish that it was for you."

Her eyes widened. "Well, we don't know that they said that."

He shook his head. "I'm sure they did. People will say terrible things to you for it."

"I've never cared about what people say." She said harshly. "They judge you for who you were, and I'm afraid they'll never see you for who you've become."

"What's been bothering you all day?" Draco asked, his voice soft as he looked down at her. "Did you think I wouldn't notice you? I could rattle off an entire list of your tells."

"Do it."

He smiled. "If I did that, you wouldn't do them anymore because you'd be paying attention."

The candle at the bedside flickered, casting shadows across his face. "I don't like that summer is ending."

"Ah,"

"For the first time in my life, returning to Hogwarts doesn't make me happy. I can't mention in front of anyone else because I'm not supposed to be scared, but,"

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Who says you can't be scared?"

She swallowed. "I just don't want them to see me cry. I want to make it better for them." Hermione whispered. "They're so afraid the group we've created will disband as soon as the term starts, and I can't stand the thought of that."

Draco pulled her into his lap, watching as she laid her head in the crook of his neck. "The summer is ending, not us. I mean that as a family," His fingers gently brushed the skin over her rib cage. "And as us. You and me, Hermione."

She liked the sound of it. "You and me."

Shopping for supplies is Diagon Ally was an event in itself, one that Hermione seriously rethinking her childhood dream of having three children.

It wasn't a nightmare, far from it, but she never wanted to wrangle so many children through their school supply lists ever again. She didn't know how Mrs Weasley did it, and for so many years, but she swore in an instant that it would never be her in that place. Draco caught her eye as she watched Henry, Isobel, Adelaide, and Olivia raid a shop full of treats, emptying all the money they had on bags of sweets.

Her parents would have been horrified. Draco was horrified, but only because he'd split eight galleons among all of them. Two per head at the camp, actually, and they had spent all of their money on sweets.

"You spent all of it on treats?" He gaped in the middle of the street. "Are you shitting me right now?"

He was met with four smiles, but Hermione caught the ugly glares cast by a cluster of middle-class witches standing across the street. She took Draco's hand, whispering, "Shh, you'll cause a scene."

Draco turned his head quick enough that he caught her lips with his own. She could feel his smile as he kissed her slowly. It was enough to make a scene of its own.

"Gross!" Henry yelled, and when they parted he was covering his eyes. "How do I purify my eyes. Where's the apothecary? That was gross."

Isobel cocked her head to the side. "You'll say that until you snog a girl."

There were only four days left. Four days to soak up the remaining days of summer that seemed like vanish each time she blinked. Hermione sighed in the bathroom, gripping the sink as she glared at her reflection.

Hermione found Draco reading on the bed, a pair of glasses on his face. She didn't comment on them but found they were very cute on him. "I have a question."

"Alright." He tucked a scrap piece of parchment into the book, marking its place, and snapped it shut. "What is it?"

She shuffled before him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "First of all, I have to admit that I spied on you earlier this summer while you were with Padma. I'm sorry for invading your privacy, but I couldn't help myself."

He chuckled. "Now that I believe. You're nosy. What is it?"

"I saw you practising, or trying to cast a Patronus," Hermione said quickly, her words slurring together. "I was wondering if you ever achieved it."

The humour vanished from his face, his face draining of colour. "I haven't tried since I killed Lestrange. The Patronus Charm is Light magic. Surely I don't have to remind you of that."

"But—"

He held a hand up. "I know that you see the best in me. It's one of the things I love about you, but I'm not able to cast it."

She stared at the floor. "Could I convince you to try, just once?"

Draco sighed, which was how she knew she had him. He donned his slippers, glaring her way as he snatched his wand and held the door open for her. "You're the worst. You just stare at me with those wide brown eyes, and pout because you know I'll do whatever you want if you do."

She followed him before he changed his mind. "I don't pout."

He rolled his eyes, grabbing her hand and all but dragging her through the forest. "It's even worse that you don't notice when you do it." Draco led her to the same clearing where he'd practised with Padma.

Raising his wand, he moved it through the motions of the triangle, and spoke clearly, "Expecto Patronum." There was a wispy trail of magic, but no more than that. "I told you. Can we please go back to bed now?"

Hermione frowned, grabbing his arm and stopping him. "You didn't try."

His eyebrows shot up.

"You didn't really try, Draco. You're going through the motions, but I know you didn't focus. Focus, on the happiest memory you have, and try again. Please." She smiled up at him, and he grumbled under his breath.

"Alright, alright, fine. Whatever you want."

Hermione took two steps backward, her back brushing against the tree that was on the very edge of the clearing. She waited impatiently, chewing her nails.

Draco planted his feet, staring several moments before raising his wand. She counted the breaths he took. One, two, three. "Expecto Patronum." A bright light filled the clearing, a large creature shooting free of his wand and tearing across the open patch of forest where the trees caged it in.

Wide eyes, her heart lodged snugly in her throat, Hermione lowered her arms as she took it all in. "Oh, my God." Trotting directly to her was a lion easily three times the size of her, it's mane just as wild as hers. She raised a trembling hand, her fingers passing through it's head as she made the silly attempt to pet it.

It vanished into nothing, the night returning to the former darkness. Draco was standing across from her, his lips parted in shock. His first words were, "I didn't know that was going to happen."

A giggle came from her, her knees shaking as she stared at him. "I did. I always knew you would—a lion? I don't understand."

He closed the gap between them, cupping her face and gazing down at her. "It's you, it's been you, it's going to be you." He choked on a strained, semi-awkward laugh. "No pressure."

Hermione held either side of his face, stretching up on her tiptoes, and pressing her lips to his. In the same movement, a move they had practised several times by that point, his hands caught the backs of her knees, lifting her against him. "The memory," she murmured between kisses. "Can I ask?"

"You sprinting to me in the atrium, crashing into me while the whole bloody world is watching. While Weasley is open-mouthed because of the way you threw your hands around my neck. Fuck, it's you. How could it not be?"

Her fingers sunk into his hair, tugging harshly. "Draco, I—"

A branch snapped.

She laughed breathlessly as Draco hissed, "Are you shitting me right now? Can I ground them? I'm grounding them until the end of the bloody summer, and I'm putting a sticking charm in their beds."

Draco lowered her to the ground, the heated moment certainly not forgotten. He sprinted through the Forbidden Forest, following the hurried "Shite, shite, shite. He's going to murder us all." "It's been a nice life." "Oh, my God, did you hear those lines. Draco's smooth as fuck."

Hermione was far too busy to keep up with them, her pace slowing to a walk. By the time she exited the forest, Draco was giving a scolding that any mother could have appreciated.

The ones that referred to themselves as 'Team Summer Camp Romance' consisted of Henry, Adelaide, Olivia, and Isobel. Every single one of them was staring at the ground as they took their verbal lashing.

"—any of you is caught outside after curfew in the next four days, so help me Merlin. I don't know what I'm going to do, but it won't be pleasant!"

Henry looked up. "We were curious..."

"Henry wasn't curious anymore when you started snogging against the tree." Olivia retorted. "Which we didn't mean to see." She paused. "Which, also, we should have expected. It's the middle of the night. What else are you doing in the middle of the Forbidden Forest?"

Henry interupted. "I just don't understand. Why not do it in a bed? I know her bed is broken, but yours isn't!"

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth as the bed Ron had broken was mentioned.

"It's called exhibitionism." Olivia rolled her eyes. "What? My mum used to keep all sorts of books around."

Draco let his hands fall into his hands. "No more sneaking out, or I'll put you in your beds with permanent sticking charms."

Isobel snorted. "Okay, Dad."

Draco cast a look back at Hermione, shooting a wry grin at her as he shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you wouldn't want to see Mum when she's angry either."

On the last day of summer, which was filled with tears, more laughs that had been shared over the entire summer, and embarrassing stories, two letters arrived. Hermione looked at Draco, blinking, but tore hers open.

Dear Miss Granger,

I apologise this letter finds you on the last day of summer. I hope your summer hols have been splendidly spent. Typically we would send these with your Hogwarts letter, but there was some extra deliberation this year. You've been selected as the Head Girl of Hogwarts for the academic year of 1998-1999. Attached is your pin. I look forward to seeing you at the feast.

P.S. From what I've been told, I suspect that you will work very well with the Head Boy.

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The enamel pin fell from the parcel, the scarlet glistening under the sun. Her newly minted title was scrawled across it, and Hermione held it up in disbelief.

"This is a hard fuck no!" Draco yelled.

She finally looked at him, her heart coming to a sudden stop in her chest. In his hand, twinkling in the warm sunlight just like hers, was the twin of her Head Girl badge. She stared at him, unable to think of anything to say at the moment. '...work very well with the Head Boy…'

"You're Head Boy." Hermione shrieked, throwing her arms around his neck.

"No, no, no. I'm definitely not Head Boy." Draco insisted.

"We're going to get away with so much!" Henry shouted, fist pumping the air.

She turned her head, kissing his cheek before leaned forward.

"How much do you think Mum and Dad will let us get away with?" Olivia asked.

Dennis snorted. "Hopefully everything."

"What if other students are cruel to Draco?" Oliver worried.

Silence fell, and someone cleared their throat. "It's pretty simple." Leanne drawled, looking to Malfoy. "I won't call you Dad, but I'll hex the shite out of anyone who even looks at you wrong."

Draco's mouth fell open. "What? Katie—"

Leanne waved her hand. "Water on the bridge, Malfoy. Let me know who needs hexing. Hufflepuffs are good at hiding things too, you know."

"Like what?" Henry asked.

Isobel cracked her knuckles, nodding to her housemate, Leanne. "Bodies, obviously."

"Wait a minute," Draco choked. "I can't even accept this. I don't—"

Hermione whispered in his ear, "Did you forget the Head Boy and Head Girl share a common room. We could still share a bedroom."

He clamped his mouth shut. "Alright, I'll do it."

I wrote all of this tonight, so if there were errors, I do apologise. As always, I'm keen to hear your thoughts, any you may want to pass on.

Announcement: As a rule for myself, I really hate sequels. Truly. I always think that no story I have to tell needs to continue. However, I'm breaking my rule. It will not be soon, as I have at least four things to write, but by late Fall, or Winter, there will be a sequel. It's tentatively (read: cheesily) titled Hogwarts: Eighth Year. I'll plot accordingly later this year, but there were some readers who requested a sequel, which is honestly one of the highest compliments you could give me, so there you are.

Till next time! If you enjoy my writing, I'm currently posting another dramione. It's a magical AU titled Kismet if you would like to give it a go.