Preserved

Once Harry had gone to bed, Dumbledore said, "It is getting a bit too late to be flying home tonight. May I offer you a room?"

"Yes, please, sir," Hermione answered.

"Well, I do believe you remember the way to your quarters?"

"Aren't the Head Boy and Head Girl using it?" Draco asked.

"No," Dumbledore said. "Using that room was only necessary for you two, since you could not get along. But in time every Head Boy and Girl start dating. I think the only exception was with Percy Weasley, but that's a different story."

Hermione had a feeling deep down in her stomach, telling her that she did not want to hear the story.

"So, off you go," Dumbledore said, motioning at the door.

Hermione grabbed Draco's hand and they hurried off to the room they had once called their home for a year.

Hermione lay down on the bed. She felt as though she had just used a time-turner to go back eleven years.

Draco lay down next to her. "I love you," he whispered in her ear.

But Hermione wasn't listening. All she heard was what Harry had said.

I will leave when people let go. Not only you, but everyone.

"Draco, if I tell you something, do you promise you won't laugh?" Hermione asked.

"Of course."

"I think I'm going insane," Hermione said, staring at the ceiling.

"Why? What's wrong?" Draco asked, sitting up in bed and staring at her.

"I'm seeing... someone," Hermione said, not quite sure how to explain it.

"Is it Harry?"

"How did you know?" Hermione asked, immediately looking at him.

"I saw him tonight, down by the lake," Draco admitted.

"But, then, that means that -"

"I haven't let go either, Hermione," Draco said, finishing her statement.

"But why?"

"I just feel responsible," Draco told her. "I feel like you can't be happy with me because you still love Harry."

Hermione could feel warm tears running down her face. "Draco, I love you so much, but you have to realize that some of my heart will always belong to Harry," she whispered. "And you have to realize that you were not responsible for Harry's death. You heard about the prophecy; it was Harry's fate. None of us could stop it."

"But I should have done something."

"Draco, you couldn't do anything about it," Hermione said forcefully.

"What about you?" Draco asked. "Why don't you let go of Harry?"

"I did, tonight," Hermione said, wiping tears from her face. "But I guess I just never got to tell him I was sorry for getting mad at him."

"It's okay," Draco whispered soothingly.

"I never even told him that I loved him."

"You didn't?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think I ever felt like I love him, not like I feel when I'm with you. But now that he's gone, I just wish I could have told him that."

"Who else do you think has seen Harry?" Draco asked.

"I dunno..." Hermione muttered absentmindedly.

That's when she realized it.

"Harry..." she whispered.

"What?" Draco said.

"Harry must have seen him," Hermione said.

"How did you come up with that?" Draco asked.

"Do you remember when Dumbledore told Harry that he was a lot like his father?" - Draco nodded - "Well, Harry had an interesting reaction, and it just must have meant that he had seen his father."

Harry had finally seen his father, met him, even if it was just a... a memory preserved in Hogwarts.