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Hermione glanced at the group gathered around her. After the war, she would have cried from happiness at being surrounded by the friends she loved dearly, but now the feelings had mellowed to a pleasant warmth that radiated from her heart. The firewhiskey created a warm haze through which everything seemed amazing. She hugged Ginny, clinking their glasses once they pulled apart.
“Alright there, Hermione?” Ginny asked softly.
“Never better. It’s been awhile since we’ve all been together, and I’m just happy to be here with everyone.”
Ginny stared a moment longer, seeming to debate whether or not to counter that statement. She chose to smile instead and the conversation drifted to other topics throughout the night. The conversations ebbed and flowed as easily as the liquor while the fire kept them warm. Hermione settled into her chair with a blanket in her lap. She watched as Ginny pressed herself into Harry’s embrace while sitting on his lap. A sharp pang of jealousy spiked through her at the sight; not because she wanted Harry, but because she wanted to do those same displays of affection.
After an hour, Ginny came back over to her. “So...what’s the deal with your new wardrobe?”
“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, “this is what I always wear!”
Ginny’s expression clearly said she doubted that statement. “That might’ve been believable when we were in school, but I know enough about fashion to see that you’ve been buying higher quality clothes than what you used to buy. I saw your sweater in the spring! It was merino wool, and your blouses are acromantula silk.”
“I just figured it was time to take care of my appearance. Plus, once I felt how comfortable everything was, I can’t go back.”
“You’re wearing more jewelry than normal.”
“My tastes have evolved.”
The back and forth continued until Ginny let out a groan of frustration. They lapsed into companionable silence before sharing one last drink and going back into their tent. Luckily, Hermione had planned ahead and fully unpacked her bag and made her bed. She quickly changed into her pajamas before snuggling into bed, buried under the plush blanket.
An hour later, the hair raising on the back of her neck caused her to open her eyes. Slight movement from the corner of the room caught her attention. She smiled, and moved back to the edge of the bed and lifted the covers. The bed dented before familiar platinum hair greeted her.
“You’re late, Draco” she whispered, pressing against him.
He wrapped an arm around her, “sorry, the team just got settled.”
They chatted about their day in whispers as Hermione grew drowsy while listening to his heartbeat. It thudded smooth and strong in her ear as his chest rose and fell. His hand absentmindedly traced idle patterns against her hair. In the past, he would touched her hair derisively, but now, he touched it reverently as if it was the finest silk.
“I’ve thought about what you said, Granger. I want celebrate with you after the Quidditch World Cup, and I want to show my girlfriend all the sights in Nice while we’re here. You took a couple extra days off, right?”
She turned to look up at her; a smile beginning to form on her face. The tiredness she felt disappearing as she propped herself up on her elbows. “I did. You really mean it? When do you want to do it?”
“How about after the World Cup? You can introduce me as your boyfriend to all your friends.”
Instead of replying, Hermione smiled as she leaned up to kiss him. His fingers lightly ran over her scalp as they spent the night talking in whispers. Her heart leapt at the thought that they would finally go public, and if she were honest with herself, she also wanted him to take her around Nice. He had told her many stories of summers in France, and Nice had always been his favorite place to go to escape the colder and dreary weather of England.
*****
Hermione, Harry, and Ron sat in the front row of the VIP box for the quidditch match. The most important game was about to happen. The Holyhead Harpies were facing off against the Falmouth Falcons, which left Hermione divided between the two teams. Of course part of her wanted one of her best friends to win, but a much larger part of her wanted Draco to win. Either way, she knew she would celebrate the outcome with Draco by her side.
The game was well underway when Ron turned to her, “hey Hermione. You don’t really like quidditch, would you be able to get us more drinks?”
She rolled her eyes, but agreed. After all, she was actually bored out of her mind. Her main source of entertainment was tracking Draco as he drifted around looking for the snitch. The Mediterranean sun loved him, and bathed him in a warm glow.
As she was walking back to the stands, a pair of hands grabbed the cups that she holding. She turned and found Cormac McLaggen holding her drinks with a smile. He immediately started to talk about how the Holyhead Harpies were the best, and she had to grit her teeth when he started to explain the rules of quidditch as if she were a first-year. She inwardly scoffed at the idea that she wouldn’t have a basic understanding of the game considering her closest friends. As if they would allow her to be so ignorant as an adult.
“Thanks for helping me carry the drinks, Cormac,” she said, resisting the urge to add that she was a witch and easily could’ve just levitated the drinks if it was too hard to carry.
“It’s nice to see you outside of the Ministry, and out of those drab robes.”
She grimaced, “thanks, Cormac.”
She handed Harry and Ron their drinks, and they went back to watching the game. She could still feel Cormac’s presence behind her and held back a growl. A couple deep breaths later, and she was reasonably sure that she wouldn’t hex him into the ground if he annoyed her too much. Ever since that mistake at the Slug Club party, he’s been convinced she was simply playing hard to get. Every single formal event, he would ask her to go with him, and she would tell him off.
As the game progressed, the rest of the world started to fall away as she watched. That is until she felt an arm drape across her shoulders. She turned to send a glare at Cormac. He was facing the game as if staring intently at the proceedings, yet she could see him watching her from the corner of her eyes. The stadium erupted into cheers, and she took the moment to send a strong stinging jinx at his exposed side.
“The next one will be to your face if you try that again,” she hissed, resting the tip of her wand between his eyes before she quickly put it away as if nothing had happened.
She could see Draco holding his hand in the air as the announcer congratulated the Falcons and said they would move up to the finals. He flew over the stands, reveling in the cheers. Periodically, he’d wave at people, making them cheer louder.
She smiled as she watched him. He had worked so hard to get to this moment. Before he had joined, he had spent years working on his reputation and penance. It took a while for the general population to be comfortable enough with him, but when he wanted to be he was incredibly charismatic, and now without the burdens of Voldemort, he was finally able to show everyone that he was truly a good man who wanted to do good too. Hermione hated to admit it, but he was right to wait to go public with their relationship until people realized who he really was. She just wished she could celebrate with him in this moment, especially as she watched the other teammates’ partners be swept off their feet for a victory lap.
Draco flew over to their stand and stopped at the front, basking for a moment in the praise before his eyes searched for her. He smirked before looking at Cormac, who was still nursing the sting on his arm. He flew closer and and jabbed a finger at him.
“Don’t touch my girlfriend, McLaggen. She’s dueled Death Eaters, imagine what she’ll do to you if you bother her again!” he said as the crowd fell silent. Turning to her, he smiled and held out a hand, “care to join me, Granger?”
She stared at him, with wide eyes as she her body answered for her. Before she could even start to worry about the brooms, she reached for his hand, and he pulled her onto his broom in front of him, sitting sidesaddle. Camera shutters clicked around them, and she heard the photographers and journalists shouting their names. Harry and Ron gaped at her, while Ginny was shouting at her in mock outrage.
“We’ve been dating for the past few years!” she called to the press as Draco took off to fly around.
An hour later, Hermione found herself at a restaurant with all her friends and Draco. They all stared at her expectantly as as she sat hand-in-hand with Draco. She cleared her throat as she looked to Draco for help, but he seemed content to let her flounder. Luckily Ginny broke the silence for her.
“I can’t believe you kept this from us! Did you think we’d judge you? Because now I’m judging you for the secrecy!” she said, but the grin on her face said she was anything but angry.
“It started as a way to hide from the press, but I guess it just never came up. We started dating shortly after our eighth year, and tensions were still high with…”
“Me being a former Death Eater,” Draco said softly, “it took a while for me to get to the point where people would no longer spit on me. I debated simply leaving England for one of the properties here, but Granger convinced me to stay and work on showing people I was reformed.”
Together they informed her friends about the course of their relationship. They started with the night they reconnected at one of Narcissa’s charity events. It was the night that Hermione discovered that Draco could be charming when he wanted to be, and he discovered that she had a sense of humor and kept him on his toes. That led into a retelling about how he nearly stuttered and tripped over himself as he asked her to lunch the next day where he spent an inordinate amount of time apologizing to her and ensuring that he was no longer the bigoted youth he used to be. From there, she had said she’d like to meet up again, and then their relationship had bloomed in full.
Ginny reached out to put her hand on Hermione’s, “you know you owe me now, Hermione.”
“I’m sure some time at the wizarding section of the Promenade des Anglais will help pay off some of your debt,” Draco teased.
Ron perked up, “I wouldn’t turn down some fun if Malfoy funds it!” He laughed until Hermione urged him to finish chewing before joining the conversation.
“You know we’re happy you, Hermione. I didn’t understand it this afternoon, but I think I can see why you like him. He’s good for you.”
Hermione beamed at him as she looked at everyone present at the table. Everything finally felt settled, with no more secrets. Now she could finally take up Draco’s offer to enjoy the sights of Nice and visit the Malfoy property nearby. Maybe she would bring back the tradition of Malfoys wintering in the Mediterranean since the weather and sights seemed perfect compared to the bleak, brutal winters back in England.
True to his word, even those said in jest, Draco led their group through the sights of the wizarding side of Nice. Ron found some inspiration to bring back to the shop while Hermione continued to add to her library, and Ginny dragged Harry off for a romantic lunch overlooking the beautiful turquoise ocean. Ron had wandered off, leaving Hermione and Draco by themselves to find a cafe where they all eventually met up again. Her younger self would’ve been shocked to see this group happily getting along with each other, but as an adult, it made sense. If things had been different in school, Draco could’ve been a part of their friend group, especially with how well he got on with Harry, and he easily got along with Ginny and Ron by discussing quidditch.