Thank you to all the people who continue to review and encourage me. Thank you also to the people who have consistently reviewed since the very beginning. You advice, support, critique and comments have made this do-able and kept me writing. This is the epilogue I promised so long ago. This story is officially complete, my first on ! Champagne if you please!

1991: Hermione's 1st year at Hogwarts

Hermione peered cautiously along the corridor. According to 'Hogwarts: A History' if she went along to the end and turned right, then right again and waited for the third rotation of the staircases then she would find the…

Her eyes fell on the portrait that hung a little way along the corridor and she hurried towards it; her freshly ironed robes flapping behind her like excited birds. The man was painted with a proud stature and flaming scarlet robes. A sword with a ruby handle glittered at his hip. Hermione stared up at the portrait in awe.

"Yes, yes I am Godric Gryffindor." The man said tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Now run along little Ravenclaw".

"I'm not a Ravenclaw!" Hermione huffed, crossing her arms.

"Interesting, they are normally the ones to stare." Godric drawled, turning his gaze to her. His eyes narrowed as if he was concentrating and Hermione felt herself grow hot under his scrutiny. She pushed her bushy hair behind her ears. When Godric spoke again, there was a slight break in his voice. Hermione assumed it was despair at one of the most recent recruits to his house.

"Not in my house surely? You look more like a mouse than a lion…or a hedgehog." He added, eyes crinkling into a twinkle.

Hermione bristled "Well I thought you would be more interested in a person's mind than their appearance. My hair has nothing to do with how brave I am".

"Spoken like a true Ravenclaw, little mouse. Gryffindors deal more with the strength of the heart than the mind."

"My name is Hermione!"

"Hermione. Hermione." He repeated, looking slightly dazed. "So it is you."

"And furthermore, courage is about making decisions despite what you might be feeling. That is to do with the mind."

Godric seemed to recover and smiled "Ah yes, a valid argument little mouse."

Hermione huffed and pushed herself up on the alcove opposite his portrait.

"Have you ever heard the muggle story about the lion and the mouse Professor Gryffindor?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "A lion and a mouse you say? No, I have not. It sounds like a story I would enjoy immensely."

1993: Hermione's 3rd year at Hogwarts

The class swarmed out of the Potions dungeon in a steady stream. Justin Finch-Fletchley could be heard loudly moaning to anyone who would listen about the obscene amount of homework Snape had just set them. Hermione grimaced as Harry and Ron pushed their way out without a single glance her way. Boys really could be the most obnoxious beings at times; all over a broomstick of all things. Biting back a lip wobble, she shoved books and quills hastily into her bag. It was lunch time; and one of the precious moments she didn't need to rewind to attend another lesson. She glanced back at the door and immediately lost her appetite. The thought of sitting on her own again was not appealing in the slightest. She briefly considered visiting Hagrid but quickly dismissed the idea. Some strange creatures that had hatched from alarmingly neon eggs had left rather a stench in his hut and she wasn't sure she could stomach it today.

Sighing far too heavily for a teenage girl, she arched her back and wiggled her shoulders before slinging her bag across them. She would go for a walk; finish her charms essay. Her face brightened slightly as she determined her destination and her footsteps were surprisingly light as she wound her way up the staircases to a corridor on the fifth floor. She dropped her bag and slumped in the alcove. The portrait opposite shifted as Godric bowed solemly to the weary third year.

"Hello Professor Gryffindor".

"Hermione. It has been so long since you came to see me." The man in the portrait gazed at her hungrily and she shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry – I suppose, well I have friends now and I'm so busy this year."

Portrait Gryffindor quirked an eyebrow and stared at her intently.

"You are working too hard little lion. Your eyes are circled with the shadows of too little slumber. These friends of yours need to take better care of you." He spat out 'friends' like it pained him to do so.

"I'm fine." Hermione lied swiftly, but her lip was wobbling again and soon the tears spilt on to her cheeks messily. "I'm – I'm sorry," She hiccupped. "It's just Harry and – and Ron are so angry with me and I'm so t-tired." Scrubbing furiously at her face with her sleeve, she didn't see Godric's gaze darken. "You- you must think I'm a disgrace to you. A b-big blot on the name of Gryffindor house."

"No. No Hermione. You are just what a Gryffindor should be." The portrait said solemnly. "You are brave and good. You are the very best of me."

1998: After the Second Wizarding War

Hermione padded softly along the corridor. Her school robes felt strange and out of place after everything she had been through. She alone of the trio had decided to return to Hogwarts to complete her NEWTS, despite much teasing from Ron that she had already taken them – just a few centuries too early.

After the war was over, the remaining Hogwarts professors had worked tirelessly to restore the castle to its former glory, but there were still a few places they had missed.

"Reparo." Shards of glass flew from the floor back into the window pane and Hermione stared at her reflection in the glass for a few seconds before moving on to the next window. A Head Girl badge glinted unfamiliarly on her robes, and a freshly made promise shone on her left hand.

"Little mouse?"

Hermione fixed her eyes on the window she had just restored, suddenly doubting herself. There had been no need to come here, she told herself crossly. No need to make it worse than it was.

"Hermione, please?"

Jaw clenched, she turned slowly to look at him. There he was, in the scarlet robes he had worn at the ball; the warmth of his coffee eyes not quite captured in the paint.

Looking at her, he sighed with relief.

"I was – that is I thought you may not – ah. I am glad you were able to return safely to your time Hermione."

"Thank you," she said stiffly.

He smiled bleakly. "How long have you been back?"

"A couple of months." Her voice sounded unnaturally high to her ears and she swallowed hard. "I came back to do my NEWTs. Harry and-and Ron didn't want to but I did. They know. They know everything that happened."

"Ah."

"How – how long has it been for you?"

"A while. It has been strange watching you grow from a child into the witch I met all those centuries ago."

"I can imagine."

"You were worth the wait." His voice swelled with unexpected feeling, breaking the stiltedness of their conversation.

"Don't Godric, please." Hermione made her way to the alcove opposite his portrait and shuffled onto the edge. "I didn't come here for-for..don't make this harder than it needs to be."

He simply stared at her, his face such an open book that she could read the unspoken words in his heart.

She cleared her throat. "How is –er, how was Rowena once I left?"

"Hermione."

"Did-did she have her baby?"

"Hermione-"

"And Helga, how is, I mean how was-"

"HERMIONE!" He finally roared, and she burst into tears, finally undone.

Hours later, she shuffled to her feet with nothing left to say. A tangerine glow from the setting sun filtered through the windows she had fixed earlier, bathing the portrait in light. She finally succumbed to her aching fingers, and let them sweep the paint of his cheek. Godric closed his eyes, like he could feel her touch if he concentrated hard enough.

"I won't come back." She meant to sound certain, but her voice came out as a whisper.

"I know."

The honeyed light faded off the portrait, leaving the founder in darkness. His eyes stayed closed, a pained smile playing on his lips as he remembered swirls of scarlet and gold.