Hogwarts Class of 2026

"Hogwarts Class of 2026"

+Malfoy Manor: Week Later: Five Am: Gardens+

     Roxanne walked out into the cold winter air watching the tall figure who sat on the bench surrounded by roses. It always amazed her how magic could keep a garden green in the dead of winter, and it was a beautiful sight, with roses and tulips surrounded by snow. She watched the broad-shouldered figure run his fingers through his hair as he stared up into the early morning sky. She had heard him pace the entire night and hadn't been surprised when she rose from her uneasy slumber to find him missing from his bed.

       The week since they had found the diary had been a strange one for him, finding out the entire truth of his mother's tale hadn't been easy. Watching him grieve hadn't been so easy either. It seemed the more he discovered the more he could grieve for his loss, a loss that his younger brother Andreas refuses to believe, a loss that could destroy the very foundation of their family.

       Roxanne had noticed the change in the entire family and had agreed with Brayton when he whispered to her 'that it was time to alter the present course'. Of course, on the initial encounter that those words had with her ears she had no idea what they meant but now, as she witnessed the breakdown of someone so near, she understood what he meant.

       "You know, you do not have to watch me anymore, I'm not a child," he said, just loud enough for her to hear.

       She gave a small smile as she tightened her robe around her, the cold air still stung her cheeks as she mumbled a warming spell and made her way over to the bench. "I used to watch you when I was a child."

       "I used to believe that she survived this . . ." Marsilio mumbled, shaking his head.

       "You have to have faith that your mother is still alive, wherever she may be," Roxanne replied, suppressing an urge to touch him.

       Marsilio sighed loudly as he sat back. "La foi croit ce qui semble impossible, as my grandmother always says."

       "Believe her, Malfoy, I doubt she'll ever steer you wrong."

       "It seems," he began, turning toward her, "that the impossible is that my mother is -- my mother is -- alive."

       "Well," Roxanne began slowly, "that means its time to have faith that she is alive and well."

       At that moment, Marsilio smiled, a smile that she hadn't seen in much too long; a smile that made her long of the days before Hogwarts, before Ryan, and before all this complicated mess. He reached out to take her hand, her eyes followed his every moment carefully, and she struggled not to tremble as he spoke.

       "You are the best friend a person could have, Potter. I wouldn't give you up for all the wealth in the world. You are more valuable than my last breath."

       Roxanne's eyes widened in surprise, she struggled to find her voice when she spoke. "Malfoy, I --"

       "No," Marsilio interrupted, "I understand the love that my mother and Uncle Harry share, it's too deep to even explain."

       He didn't know it but his words broke her heart, she knew the relationship between Harry and Hermione. It was nowhere near how she felt about Marsilio, nowhere close. She could do nothing but nod as she fought tears.

       "Promise you won't leave my side that you will always be my best friend, even after we marry and have our own kids. Please?" he asked, still holding her hand.

       The more he spoke the more she felt the need to curl up and cry, he loved her but not how she loved him, and it hurt to think of him marrying some other woman. Sure they were only sixteen but she, like all girls, dreamed of marrying her first love.

       His voice broke through her reverie. "Please?"

       "I," her voice broke as she opened her mouth and a single tear fell, "pr-promise."

       "What?" Marsilio asked, wiping the tear before it reached her chin.

       "Nothing," she lied.

       "Potter," he said, looking into her eyes seriously, "you do not cry much, why the tears?"

       Roxanne struggled to find a suitable lie. "I just got caught up in thinking about our . . . friendship."

       "Oh," Marsilio chuckled, "that's a lot to think of, we're teenagers now, next year we'll be graduating, next year we'll be -- Potter, what will you do once you graduate?"

       "I do not know," she whispered, "I used to want to be a mediwizard, when I was a little girl, but the stories dad used to tell always made me want to fight for all that is innocent and right in the world. Mum always said dad is far too optimistic for his own good but I see what he sees."

       "Only you can see good in this godforsaken place," he mumbled, "so Magical Law Enforcement or, like your dear old dad, become an Auror."

       "Or," she corrected, "get married young and have my own brood of children like Brayton's grandmother. Sometimes she seems to be the happiest woman in the world with her seven kids and endless grandchildren."

       "I never thought that was an option for the strong-willed girl I grew up with."

       Roxanne managed a playful smile. "Well, I spent my entire childhood being reckless and mischievous, I think I'll spend my adult years smiling at my husband and marveling at my kids."

       "Delightful, reasoning, Potter," Marsilio retorted, smiling, holding back a yawn.

       She sighed loudly, concern filling her eyes. "I know you haven't slept in days."

       "Well, my family is a mess," he said looking down at her tiny fingers, "my dad is in pieces, my grandmother searches to aid us, Andreas is angry with the world, Cillian is locked up in his room talking only to your mum, and my poor Morgaine is alone. I can't find the energy to sleep."

       "I wish--I wish," she stuttered, "that I could help carry your burden."

       "I would never allow it, Potter," Marsilio snapped, "I would never allow you to go through this, never."

       "Stop trying to be my damn hero, Malfoy, stop this! You aren't out here to talk about me, or us, you are out here for your mum! Everyone is grieving for all to see, everyone except you! Damn you, Marsilio Malfoy, the only way I knew you were grieving was by your pacing, your endless footstep on the stone floor has kept me up all night. So stop avoiding the pain and cry, cry in your own special way," Roxanne demanded.

       "Potter, stop trying to understand!" Marsilio retorted, clearly angry. "This is a subject that you will be forever ignorant in! So stop trying to psychoanalyze my every movement!"

       Roxanne's face became hard. "Fine, you're right, I'll never understand how it feels and maybe I'm too stupid to try."

       "No," he groaned as she stood, "I--"

       "Yes, Malfoy, you were right I can't understand how it feels to hurt," she said loudly, the pain evident in her voice, "I'm going back to my room."

       "Roxanne --" Marsilio tried.

       "No, Malfoy, superior Wizards never accept ignorance, you know that," Roxanne interrupted before she entered the Manor and disappeared from his sight.

       Marsilio groaned loudly as he threw himself onto the bench again. "Potter, only Merlin knows what I'd do, only Merlin knows."

+Malfoy Manor: Later: East Wing: Master Bedroom+

     "Draco," Blaise said as he sat on the windowsill, "Harry has been working his ass off and all we can find is that this is not about you or your name."

       Blaise had flooed just to give his friend some news and some comfort, and Pansy had reported his latest battle with Whiskey. Blaise stared at his friend, who still laid in bed, his wife's picture on the bed next to him, and couldn't help but feel sympathy toward the heartbroken man.

       "Well," Draco sighed, "I knew that, she's done enough to make her own enemies."

       "Drake," Blaise began looking around the spacious room that he was sure Hermione put a lot into, "it's been weeks since she went missing, and though Harry will fight it tooth and nail, when the MLES or the Aurors finds something of hers left behind it will become a ' search and find' mission instead of 'rescuse'. You know the protocol, ICWB will take over to recover her body, Drake things could drastically change if anything we find belongs to her."

       "It's not that simple, Blaise, we thought she was dead for five years, but she wasn't, we found her then and we can find her now," he replied, insulted at the thought.

       Blaise shook his head, he wanted to agree with Draco but he couldn't, he knew his job. "Even Harry-freaking-Potter can't interfere with Protocol, this is different it was a War effort then, we had to find her, she was a veteran. However, now, it's different, she's just a victim, just another faceless victim."

       "Dammit, no she's not, she's only forty-five! She's still that feisty woman she was at twenty-seven and if she wants to survive, and you and I both know she does, she will. You ignorant wizards may do as you like but I give you my word, as a Malfoy, that she will return home." Draco said in a voice much like his father.

       "Draco, I know how much you love her --" Blaise began only to be stopped by his friend's Lucius like presence.

       "She's my wife, Blaise, I won't give in, I refuse any course of action that isn't rescue. My wife needs rescuing and dammit she will be rescued," he yelled loudly, his grey eyes blazing.

       "Draco--" he tried.

       "That's all I have to say, Zabini, take it or leave it!"

       "Fine," Blaise nodded, standing to his feet, "we will continue our search but when ICWB takes over do not say I didn't warn you."

       "Get out!" Draco growled, as Blaise caught a glimpse of Lucius in those eyes.

       "Whatever you wish, Draco," he replied sarcastically, as he sauntered out of the room. "What the hell you wish."

       "Dammit," he sighed loudly as his head hit the headboard, "Hermione, where are you?"

+Malfoy Manor: Later: West Wing: Parlor+

     "You know," began Roxanne's ten-year-old sister, Laura, "things make more sense when you give them time to settle among your other thoughts."

       Roxanne raised her eyebrows, she knew Laura was intelligent but not a genius. "Where did you hear that?"

       "Aunt Hermione," she replied simply, "I've heard her tell Morgaine the very same thing millions of times."

       "Aunt Hermione," Roxanne sighed, her eyelids fluttering softly.

       "Daddy, is really busy trying to find her. It's been a while since I've seen him," Laura commented, her green eyes surveying her cards, wishing that she could be as good as her sister.

       Roxanne nodded, laying down a card. "I miss him too, but he has work to do. Everyone really misses her and her family needs her, there is no reason why we can't sacrifice daddy for a few weeks so the Malfoy's can be whole again."

       Laura scoffed at her sister's words. "You mean so 'Marsilio will be whole again'. We need daddy, mum needs daddy, I miss him terribly and so do you and James! Why is it when the great Malfoy family is in misery we all have to be miserable?"

       "You know what they say, Laura," Harry James Potter Jr. announced as he sauntered into the room looking more like his Uncle Ron than he ever had, "misery loves company."

       "You two need to stop being so selfish!" Roxanne scolded. "They need help and daddy is doing what he does best, helping them in their time of need."

       "Their time of need, huh?" James mumbled as he sat on the couch. "When granddad was admitted to St. Mungo's how long were they miserable? Not long enough, if you ask me."

       "That's different, James," Roxanne argued, sitting her cards on the table, turning toward her brother, "it's our granddad who has cancer, ours and Brayton's, not Marsilio's. It's so different, it hurt us deeply, they didn't grow up sitting in his lap and listening to all his stories, they didn't grow up loving him. You can't expect them to be miserable about a man they hardly know."

       "Well, mum is being miserable for them in their time of need, what is so different about it?" Laura questioned, laying her cards down.

       "Shut up! Just shut up, both of you! Neither of you is being very compassionate," Roxanne exclaimed, exasperated.

       "Oh stop being Miss perfect, Anne," James countered, "we all know how close you are to Marsilio but that doesn't mean he should take precedence over your family."

       "He doesn't, James," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

       "I'm surprised at all of you," came a stern voice from the doorway and all three faces lit up in surprise.

       "Daddy!" Laura gasped as Harry Potter walked into the room, shutting up all three of his children.

       "All three of you should be ashamed--," Harry began but stopped abruptly as he looked at his youngest daughter. "You know what, I love you, all of you and I know these Holidays haven't been the best but you shouldn't argue with each other, you should be keeping each other happy."

       "But daddy, they are being selfish and acting like children!" Roxanne whined.

       Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Selfish in your eyes, worried in mine, they miss our family being together, as both your mother and I do."

       "So you are saying that they have the right to act so childish about this and everything else?" she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

       Harry stared at his oldest daughter, noticing the lines on her forehead, the pout on the lips, and her, obvious, habit of biting her lip. He hadn't loved her and raised her for sixteen years not to know when something was wrong. "James, Laura, why do not you give Roxanne and me a little privacy."

       "Yes, sir," James replied jumping up and tapping his dad on the arm before leaving room.

       Laura followed suit, except she stopped to rap her arms around her father before following her brother out of the room.

       "Why do we need to talk daddy?" she asked as Harry took Laura's previous seat.

       "You are just like your mother, Roxanne," he said, looking at the little girl he used to watch play dolls for hours on end.

       "You've never told me that," Roxanne whispered, not looking up at her father.

       Harry smiled, reminiscing on his Hogwarts days, to a little red-haired girl who loved him more than he could understand. "When you love, you love with more of you than you thought you had. When you are angry you do not stay that way long. When you are sad you feel it within the depths of your heart, for all to see. And when you are hurt, Roxanne, you are hurt deeply and it takes more than a word to mend. Maybe you never see it, darling, but you're just like your mother."

       "I do not see it," she replied simply.

       "But I do," Harry replied, quickly, noticing her countenance, "and like her you are extremely intense when it comes to your opinions."

       Roxanne sighed, finally looking at her father who was aging gracefully. His unruly brown hair was starting to have traces of gray, his eyes had fine lines, and his voice, even now, seemed to have deepened in maturity. The first man in her life was still one of the best looking and she couldn't think of any man better than her father. "I see where this is going."

       "Do you?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

       "Yes," she said, nodding her head, "you are going to ask to be more understanding of my siblings opinions . . . no matter if they are stupid and unfounded."

       "How is missing your family 'stupid and unfounded'?" Harry questioned, almost angry.

       Roxanne shrugged, looking down at her fingers. "I do not know, daddy, I do not know."

       "They aren't what's bothering you," he began, watching the emotions run across her young face, "it's something else. Care to tell me what it is?'

       "Not really, I do not think I could talk coherently about it right now," she replied, her voice in a whisper.

       "Would it kill you to try?" Harry pushed.

       "Yes," Roxanne answered, her eyes connecting with his, "and I'm too young to die."

+Just Outside of Yorkshire+

     "Why do men feel they can justify death? Is it arrogance?" Hermione asked as she laid her head back against the cave wall.

       "It's a show of power," her captor replied.

       "Beautiful," the voice called as Adelard into a peaceful slumber.

       "What?" she answered, sounding annoyed.

       "They're falling apart," the voice announced, knowing that Hermione understood.

       "Do you only come to bring horrid news?"

       The voice tried to chuckle but the sound was so mangled it was barely a grunt. "You know, it's dirty business doing one's duty . . . but just occasionally it's a real pleasure. "

       "Hm," Hermione snorted, "I'm sure you enjoy torturing me."

       "No," the voice disagreed, "I would really hate to see you being tortured, I do not think I could bare it."

       "Why?" she questioned. "It's not like you honestly care about me."

       "So little you do know, beautiful, Vous vous êtes en tenu à mon coeur il y a des années."

+Malfoy Manor: South Wing: Library: Meanwhile+

     "Mother," Marsilio said aloud, "there is so little that I know, I wish you were here to explain it all."

       Again as he opened the Diary, his mother's smooth voice filled the library and he read to himself as her words filled the room.

          March 31, 2008

                                           Hermione Granger-Malfoy

                                                 Things are really starting to get hectic around here, everyone wants to talk to us, interview us, or want exclusive pictures of Marsilio's birth. I never thought coming home would be like this, I never envisioned this type of life as the first muggle-born Malfoy, I never thought it would bring such a feeling to the Wizardng world. It's such a whirlwind.

       I was thinking about the first time I ever heard Draco tell me he liked me, we were sixth years in a Muggle Studies Class, it's one of my favorite memories. The memory of one of our first scandals.

             Draco had walked over to our table, sat his books down, and just stared at me. He had been contemplating a decision for a couple of months now, and he still wasn't quite sure but he knew he didn't have time to sit on it any longer.

             I looked up from my book, "Victorian Muggle Society,” with a smile, "Why are you staring at me?"

             "Because," he replied vaguely, his decision, or rather the lack of one, was looming over his head.

             I stuck a finger in my book, "Because what?"

             "Because I'm thinking about you," Draco whispered catching me off guard, he rarely said things like that but I was starting to get used to them.

             "Why?" I asked, the smile had fallen off my face, even after the kiss we had shared a couple of weeks earlier I still didn't know what to think of him.

                                 

                                  "Can't I think about the girl I like?" he asked smirking as he saw my face pale.

             I blinked rapidly looking back at the book, "You know I found something perfect for our presentation. It's about the variety of social circles in the Victorian days of the Muggle world."

             "Do not do that," Draco whispered, if Draco hated one thing, it was someone changing the subject. He always hated being ignored, and changing the subject was part of it. He always believed it made, already uncomfortable, situations into even more uncomfortable situations.

             "They were very extensive, like Mediwizards who studied only on the Killing Curses usually stayed together. Well, Muggle Doctors who specified in Heart surgery or Cardiology usually made rounds in the same social circles," I continued, ignoring his obvious displeasure.

             Draco flinched, "Stop changing the subject. Please, Hermione, I do not care whom dead Muggles considered their friends. I only care about whom you are intending to take to the Christmas Ball."

             "No one. I wasn't planning on attending," I replied, finally looking back up into the gray eyes that were glued to me.

             "Well, then you will accompany me to the Ball. Won't you?" Draco asked, really he didn't ask, but he was so nervous and I was so shocked that neither of us noticed.

             I looked at him quietly, "Are you serious?"

             "As serious as I can be," he replied biting on his bottom lip nervously.

             "Sure, it'll be fun," I whispered, as a small smile appeared.

       I think that was the beginning of our relationship. The beginning of my life as it is and as I love it. Draco, my Draco, he will never age for me, nor fade, nor die. We have been through so much, I've seen others inflict pain upon my husband but I don’t think I've ever witnessed him hurt as much as the day I told him the truth.

       That I had been involved with -- Merlin this still isn't easy -- Antonius Rosier. I remember it just as if it was this morning. Draco had just arrived back from England and I had greeted him at the door, looking my best because I was so anxious to see him again. He was telling me that the men that hunted me like an animal for years weren't to be executed . . . .

                         Draco looked up, the look of disappointment etched on his face, "I'm sorry."

                                 I stood up, walked over to him, and took his hand, "Do not be, you were always the one to keep me safe."

                                 That made him smile, I wasn't ever dependant on anyone that he knew, "Hermione we need to talk."

                                  I looked away abruptly, making my robes turn with me, "About what?"

                                 "What's next," he replied still leaning against the door frame.

                                     I sighed loudly and turned back to him, "I can't talk about what's next until I tell you the truth."

                                     "The truth?" Draco asked, standing up straight, the thought of me lying to him made his eyebrows furrow.

                                     "The truth about my knowledge of those men," I said, walking further away from him to stand right in front of the unused fireplace.

                                     "Hermione what are you trying to say?" he asked, warning me in his voice that he wasn't ready for disappointment.

                                     "I'm trying to say, my relationship with one of the men was more than prey and hunter," I replied, my eyes were still focused on the mantle before me.

                                     Draco's mouth was dry, when I disappeared we were engaged, "Are you saying you were ---"

                                      My eyes squeezed shut, all the work I had done to push myself away from him just so he wouldn't get hurt was going down the drain, "I'm saying Draco that I ran for your life but I also ran because he didn't want to us to stop seeing each other."

                                     "What?" he asked, trying his best to keep his expression set in stone.

                                     "Draco, I cheated on you long before the war was over. Draco, I didn't want to do it but he was going to blackmail me. He thought I was weak, he thought I couldn't sacrifice myself for you, and when he finally figured out that I would do anything for you and Harry he was already too deep," I replied, turning to look at him, I forced back the flood of emotion that begged to be released, I could see the pain in his eyes.

                                     "Slow down, Hermione, now who is he?" Draco whispered, clenching his fist at his side.

                                     "Antonius Rosier," I whispered, flinching at the sound of his name.

                                      "What could he, Pansy's cousin, blackmail you with?" he asked, sitting in the recliner with a dazed look, he could remember many memories from the Pensieve where Rosier would whisper 'I'm sorry'.

 . . . .

                                     "Merlin, what have I done?" I whispered, closing my eyes briefly, as a single tear rolled down mycheek.

                                     "You have ruined any chance we had, Hermione," Draco whispered as the contempt disappated from his eyes.

                                     "Draco don’t say that, you -- we have hoped for so long," I pleaded as another tear treaded down the other cheek.

                                     He slammed his fist on the chair's arm, "Dammit I need a drink."

                                     "Draco a drink won't solve anything, it seems to be the root of our problems here," I whispered, sitting on the edge of the coffee table with a sigh.

                                     Draco gave a deep dark chuckle that seemed to come from down further than his throat, "If only you could see the problems Whiskey helped me forget five years ago. Somehow, this time, I'm hoping for far worse than alcohol poisoning this time."

                                     "What are you talking about?" I asked, my eyes wide with fright.

                                     He chuckled again, this time he looked at me with something akin to loathing, "Five years ago you died in the Wizarding world, Hermione, and I was determined to follow you. I know you remember my fascination with the Muggle drink Whiskey. I told you in our Common room Seventh year. Do you remember the night I told how when I was three or four, Lucius would allow me to sit in his lap and drink his favorite drink, Whiskey? I never realized the irony of it all until it was almost too late you know. I remember wanting so much to be like Lucius, I wanted to have a part of him, and so I learned to take Whiskey over all other things. My father's demon followed him throughout his life, sometimes I'm sure Whiskey was his only friend."

                                     I struggled to regulate my breathing as he sneered at nothing in-particular, "Draco --"

                                     Draco interrupted me, "So you die on me, my salvation, my redemption is gone. So I pick up my bottle and drown my sorrows. Not so blatantly that everyone could see a Malfoy's one weakness but to the point where my private indulgence almost took me to my resting place. In the end my father's demon comforted me when no one else understood my pain. That demon took the pain so far away that I almost felt like a bird that I could fly anywhere you never existed, as long as I had my good friend, Whiskey. Yet, there came a moment when I almost died from my freedom and with the insistence of so many I cut back on seeing my friend. Now we only visit when I feel it can get no worse.”

                                     I turned away from him, so he could not spot the tears that refused to slow down. Nevertheless, I hid the emotion from my voice, "So you think this situation can't get any better?"

                                     "In my life when it rains, it pours," he snapped, running his fingers through his long white hair.

                                     Suddenly Istood up, my eye’s red and my voice loud, "Draco how could you love someone like me that much? How could you put me on a pedestal that NO ONE deserves? It's only natural that I fell and you were hurt beyond repair! It's your own fault, you put me up there with Dumbledore and Harry, somewhere I do not belong."

                                     "The ONLY pedestal I put you on was the one that my father vacated LONG ago. I have never in my life elevated Dumbledore or Potter, you were the only worthy of the view I used to have of my father. Merlin, Hermione you were so perfect once that no one, not even Potter, expected you to fall. We all have you on a pedestal, especially Potter and I, haven't you seen it yet?" Draco replied, his expression set but voice elevated with every syllable.

                                     I hated being, even the tiniest bit, incorrect on anything and so Draco's words did nothing but fuel my fire, "It doesn't matter what you thought you saw or what you thought you knew. How could you love me, Draco? You, a helpless soul in need of everything I knew NOTHING about! How could you love me? The girl who knew everything but love."

                                     I looked at the Malfoy seal on his ring that sat on his pinky before speaking, "It doesn't matter why I loved you, all that mattered was that I did."

                                     "Did? Did, as in you do not anymore? Was love the only thing that mattered that night at your mother's Social? The night when I realized that you needed protecting from me? You were a Rose in bloom and I was a weed. Was love all that mattered when you realized that I didn't belong along side people like Pansy, Blaise, or even Millicent Bullstrode?" I yelled as the tears found their way down my cheeks, this time refusing to hide.

                                     "Merlin, for the woman who destroyed my father you sure think much of his words. I never said, or thought, any of that, those were Lucius' words, words I stopped valuing long ago. Hermione, that was years ago, when are you women going to learn to let sleeping dogs lie?" Draco replied, looking up at me, who had just broken his heart for the thousandth time it seemed.

. . . .

                                     "Why must I be a liar? I looked ashamed because you were standing beside me and this supposedly cultured man, who was my father, was standing there insulting you like he had no training at all," he said flinching at the memory.

                                     I gasped in surprise, "Are you telling me that the source of my insecurities was wrong?"

                                     "Correct again Miss Granger," Draco nodded, sounding oddly enough like Snape. "Even Mother was mortified by my -- Lucius' behavior that night, I'm sure I had the privilege of being ashamed of that monster."

. . . .

                                     Draco moved onto the table beside me and whispered softly, "You never really understood us Malfoys, the dark ones or the light ones. You always used to see us in black and white because you spent most of your previous time seeing us in between shades of grey and obscenely bright colors."

                                     "I tried Draco, I really did, I thought I knew you," I whispered, my head still laying in my hands forlornly.

                                     "Lucius' hate was based on a want that he had to keep buried deep inside, and it was a well-known fact in our household. My love was based on a need that developed into something some in my status would call unhealthy and others would call pure truth. Hermione, I warned you long ago, you do not know the madness that grows in men's hearts," Draco whispered, feeling his face flush, he could remember that night well, it was Graduation.

                                     "Have I ruined it all? From my infidelity to my naivety, have I ruined what we worked so hard to keep all those years?" I asked, finally raising my head to face him.

                                     He bit his lip nervously, "I can't answer that Hermione, I honestly can't. Still, I have to ask . . . did you really not trust me at all? You kept so much from me, from your feelings about Mother's ball to Antonius Rosier. Or was it that you never loved me enough to trust me in the first place?"

                                     I turned to him completely, our knees were touching, "I trusted you and I trusted you because I loved so much I knew you wouldn't fail me. But I was proud too, I had so much confidence in what I had read that I forgot some things can't be learned in a book."

       There were so many things Draco was right about that night. I do not think I saw it then but our disaggrements were what kept us together, they are what brought us back to each other. Because every time we argued we figured out the right way to be.

       God, this boy is going to kick the life right out of me, I better go lay down. Goodnight.

       

                                                            Hermione Granger-Malfoy

       "Every time I open this I learn a little more," Marsilio whispered, as he closed the Diary, “now only if she could explain to me how to handle this situation with Potter.”