Author's note: Well, I guess that's it. The end. It took me long enough to get here and, looking back on this whole thing, I must have been insane to start it in the first place. Thanks to all of you who have read this story, either silently or by letting me know through reviews and PM's. I've enjoyed talking to all of you, getting to know some of the people behind the names. This story has been my longest project ever and it's literally cost me blood, sweat and tears and probably a tantrum or two as well.

Thanks for reading, reviewing, favouriting, following or just silently watching this story unfold. A writer is nothing without an audience. Thank you all. x

Chapter 18

Love Never Dies

Hermione stared out of the window of her London home. The Victorian townhouse looked out over a quiet suburban street where mainly Muggles lived. Throughout the day it was quiet. The only time you really saw people out on the streets was during the morning and evening commute when everybody was rushing their way down ti the nearest tube station to get into the City for work. She enjoyed watching them. It was strange how watching other people brought back a sense of normality to her life.

Normal. She would never have thought that her life would in any way go back to normal. Some would say it hadn't but to her it felt like it, or at least the closest thing to it.

It was late afternoon and the August sun was still high in the sky. The back door leading to the garden was wide open, allowing in the fresh air. It blew through the dining room, the kitchen and into the living room. The house was everything she could ever have dreamed off and some days, as she walked from room to room, she could barely believe that it was real. The sound of her own footsteps on the hard wooden floor still sounded unfamiliar even though she had been living here for almost a year.

A year. 365 days.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that Andromeda found her at the cemetery in Godric's Hollow, whispering softly into her ear that finally things had come to an end. The battle had finally come to an end. Every so often she would relive that moment, the moment where she looked up into Andromeda's eyes and found the answer to the question of which path destiny wanted her to follow. However, there were still plenty of times where she would turn around and see Andromeda walk into a room, only to see a flash of the other woman. She would still see Bellatrix when she looked at her. She'd see her in Andromeda's eyes or hear Narcissa in her voice. She knew that she'd never truly be without them. She'd never be alone.

The world had healed. Wounds had closed and now only scars were left behind. Over time they too would fade. Nothing in this world was left to remind anyone of what happened other than the crowded cells in Azkaban prison and Falcon Island. The cell where Bellatrix had been kept was destroyed the night the Flames of Destiny chose who survived. The Ministry had tried to rebuild it but somehow whatever magic they used was no match. No building would stand in its place. A silent reminder of what had happened there, the night Bellatrix Lestrange had died.

Up till this day people spoke of Bellatrix's miraculous escape. No one had managed before but now they spoke in quiet admiration as well as fear about what she had done. When the Ministry finally issued a statement that confirmed that she was dead but her body had been buried in an unknown location, Britain no longer held its breath in fear. Now it was over for them too. All that remained was what would happen to the sole surviving member of the Cores. The same sole surviving member of the Golden Trio; friend of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley and lover of Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. For a long time the Ministry did not know what to do with Hermione Granger.

She spoke openly in court about what had happened. Hours passed as she told members of the Wizengamot about the day she found out the true meaning of her wand, her life and the devotion that followed. She explained how a spell had been placed upon her that was broken the night she was attacked and she shared with them the paths she had travelled that led to the deaths of many. She never cried as she knew no tears could ever undo what had been done. She spoke for herself, in all honesty, and didn't avoid the parts that made her look like the monster she became.

To her surprise people had spoken in her defence. Not just Andromeda, who had been there all the way through, but also Nymphadora Tonks and even Molly Weasley. Their words more than anything convinced the Ministry not to send Hermione to Falcon Island or lock her up in St Mungo's. Instead she was told to live her life as a Muggle, without a wand, for the remainder of her life. If she were to ever obtain a wand and use it, she would be sent to Falcon Island. It was a sacrifice she would gladly make.

Her parents were glad to see her live without magic. They had never quite understood the life she led at Hogwarts and how magic had changed her but they got to see their little girl again. They visited every few weeks and had slowly come to terms with what had happened. Hermione had insisted it wasn't their fault but she knew that her mother would always feel responsible. Nothing she did would ever be able to change that.

What had changed was her relationship with Molly and Arthur Weasley. She still did not understand how they had found it in their hearts to forgive her but they had. She didn't see them often, mainly because her own guilt didn't allow her too, but when she did, there wasn't a hint of resentment there, Perhaps they, out of everyone, understood best what had happened and although Hermione blamed herself, Molly and Arthur blamed the circumstances.

Nymphadora on the other hand had needed more time to really accept that this was the way things were. She struggled to grasp her mother's ability to love the person who was responsible for the deaths of their friends and for several weeks she did not speak to either of them. Instead she'd focused on her job, working long hours and ignoring her mother's letters. But one night in March she'd suddenly turned up outside their door. Since them it seemed they had found a mutual balance. When Tonks was around nobody spoke about the war.

Hermione looked up when she recognised the sound of a key in the front door. A couple of minutes later Andromeda walked into the living room, dressed in a pair of black trousers and a short sleeved burgundy coloured shirt. Her brown hair fell wavy down her shoulders and she dropped her handbag in the arm chair nearest the window. Her eyes rested on Hermione.

"I thought you were supposed to be at work today?"

Work was a small bookshop in the middle of Camden. It was hidden in a small side street and quite popular. It was right across the street from Hermione's favourite coffee bar and a short tube ride back to home. She'd been working there for the past five months. Nobody in the Muggle world knew who she was. To them she was just Hermione; the one thing she had never really been.

"I took the day off," Hermione answered and let her eyes trail over Andromeda's frame. She'd gotten used to seeing her in Muggle clothing. She preferred it, actually. Andromeda had made a great effort to blend in to normal London life and although she had a job at the Ministry working alongside her daughter, she still chose to wear Muggle clothes instead of robes.

"I see," Andromeda smiled as she leant in and kissed Hermione's forehead. She then caught the brunette's gaze. "I know what day it is, Hermione."

She sadly smiled. Today was the anniversary of the night she had first crossed paths with Bellatrix. That night was what had started it all. It was what had led to her leaving with Bellatrix during Bill and Fleur's wedding. That night in Diagon Alley had changed her life. It felt like a lifetime ago and as she stood in her living room Hermione found it difficult to even remember that it had once been real. Most days it felt like a nightmare, one that would come back again and again and again.

"Have you made any progress finding the graves yet?" Hermione asked as she followed Andromeda into the kitchen.

Andromeda shook her head. "Nothing yet. Nymphadora thinks it may be wise to try and talk to some of the former Death Eaters who survived everything. Some of them may be able to tell us anything."

Hermione leant against the kitchen counter. The Ministry was trying to find the bodies of those who had been killed during the battles but who had not been found. She knew Molly hoped every day that Ron's body would be discovered. Hermione had given Andromeda every possible suggestion she could think of but so far they'd found nothing. The same went for Narcissa's body. Nobody knew what had happened to it and deep down Hermione suspected that there was a good chance that they would never know.

Andromeda gave Hermione a sideways glance. Every day she was surprised to see how well she had coped with the changes in her life. She seemed to enjoy the fact that she was no longer surrounded by magic. It was because of that happiness that Andromeda had decided to change the clothes she wore. She moved about the house without magic. Everything they did was done the Muggle way and she could see how the absence of magic had changed Hermione. It was as if magic carried a reminder of her old life. Now that she lived without it she seemed happier although she did often see the shadows in her eyes. She knew that not everything was truly gone. It never would be.

She and Hermione tried to make the best out of their lives. Their home in London was nice. They enjoyed every moment they spent together and Andromeda realised that as more time passed, she kept discovering sides to Hermione she'd never got to see before. The first time she came home to find Hermione curled up on the sofa with a book was a milestone. People had often told her that Hermione liked to read but until then she'd never seen her do it. They were small things that anybody else would have taken for granted. Andromeda had learnt to cherish them instead.

"Do you think about her sometimes?" Hermione asked unexpectedly.

Andromeda looked up. "About whom?"

"Bellatrix."

She put down the knife she'd pick up to cut her apple into pieces and stared down at her hands. "Yes I do," she confessed without looking at Hermione. "I think about her a lot."

"Do you miss her?"

Hermione's eyes were fixed on something on the wall.

Andromeda swallowed hard. "Yes," she answered and she realised with a shock that as she said it, she suddenly felt empty inside. "I do." Slowly she turned to she could look at Hermione. "Do you?"

"I miss her," Hermione whispered and her hand slowly crept across her chest to her heart. The steady heartbeat under her fingers was a sharp reminder of where she was in her life now as opposed to where she had been. Tears glistened in her eyes. "I miss them both."

"I'm afraid that pain will never really go away," Andromeda whispered into Hermione's ear as she slipped her arms around the younger witch's waist. "We just learn to live with it. It doesn't get any less; we just learn how to cope better." Soft lips caressed the back of Hermione's neck. "I loved them both very much and I know you loved them even more. Love never dies, Hermione. Never."

Hermione turned around, still in Andromeda's arms. Their lips found each other and she kissed her passionately. Sometimes the darker side of her would come out in moments like these. Andromeda had accepted that. She accepted that there were some things Hermione could not always control. Her feelings and emotions were one of them. When she didn't feel the brunette's fingers creep up along inside of her thigh she realised this wasn't one of those moments.

When they parted Hermione looked up into Andromeda's eyes. She always got lost in them, even after all this time. Sometimes she'd look at her and remember the moment that had brought them here. The middle of a war and they were trapped inside Hogwarts. A promise she'd made to Bellatrix to deceive her sister had resulted in her finding the one thing she'd always craved the most; love.

"I love you," Hermione murmured against Andromeda's lips before slipping out of the embrace and walking through the kitchen back into the living room. She felt her lover's eyes in her back.

She picked up the silver photo frame that stood on the fireplace. She'd looked at it more times than she could remember but the first time she'd seen it still lay fresh in her memory. Andromeda's cottage, the night she and the others had spent there as the men enjoyed their drinks before the wedding. She'd crept into the living room to get away from the noise and Andromeda found her there. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that even back then, in that moment, there had been something between them. Looking back it was when their hands had touched. Some things couldn't be denied.

Hermione looked down at the picture. The three almost identical looking sisters sat in the grass and looked up at the camera. Their smiles were genuine and Hermione's fingers softly caressed the glass, drawing figures across Bellatrix's and Narcissa's face. She missed their smiles. She missed everything they had once been to her.

"There is no shame in it, you know," Andromeda whispered behind her and Hermione looked up. Her hand cupped the brunette's cheek and she smiled. "To admit that you still see them when you look at me."

"Isn't there?" Hermione whispered, looking back at the photo.

"No," Andromeda reassured her. "Because I see them every time I look into the mirror too."

Hermione sadly smiled and put the picture frame back on the mantel piece. Her eyes drifted around the living room. Decorated with earth tones as well as cream and white, the house had truly become a home. She could imagine herself growing old between these walls, with the memories of the past fading further and deeper into the darkness.

"Are you happy?"

Andromeda's question came as a surprise and Hermione turned around. When she saw her lover's face she knew that Andromeda really wanted to know the answer. She'd been keeping that question quiet for far too long and Hermione realised that maybe, just maybe, she hadn't shown or told Andromeda enough about how she felt. That would change.

"Yes," she answered as she closed the distance between them and rested her head against Andromeda's chest. She could her hear her heart beat, felt it against her skin. "Yes, I'm happy."

It was the truth.

End.