The October air in Hogsmeade carried a crisp bite, the kind that hinted at early snow. The village bustled with students darting between Honeydukes, Zonko's, and the Three Broomsticks. Among them, Mia had hurried off to a Gryffindor house party, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Hermione watched her daughter vanish into the crowd of friends with a soft smile.
Draco slipped his hand into hers. "I believe that's our cue to make ourselves scarce."
Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Afraid we'll cramp her style?"
Draco smirked. "We're ancient in her eyes. I'm surprised she still lets us be seen in public with her."
They strolled past the crowd, heading down a quieter lane that wound toward the outskirts of the village. The shops gave way to quiet cottages and autumn trees whose golden leaves drifted lazily in the wind.
They found themselves outside Madam Puddifoot's, the tea shop infamous for its lacy décor and syrupy atmosphere. Draco gave the door a skeptical glance.
Hermione laughed. "Not your style?"
"Let's say I prefer a less… frilly environment." He tilted his head toward a small, tucked-away coffeehouse called The Silver Thistle, its ivy-draped windows glowing with warm light. "How about there?"
Inside, the Thistle was quiet, the only patrons an elderly couple by the fireplace and a few off-duty professors. They chose a corner booth, settling into the soft leather seats as the waitress brought over steaming mugs of spiced chai.
For a while, they simply sat in comfortable silence, hands entwined over the table.
"You know," Hermione said softly, "it's strange. We spend every day together at the castle — teaching, raising Mia — but this feels... different."
Draco met her eyes, his expression open, unguarded. "Because this is just us. Not Professor Granger and Professor Malfoy. Not Mum and Dad. Just Hermione and Draco."
She smiled, feeling her heart warm in a way that still surprised her after all these years. "I missed this."
"So did I." He reached out, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Though I admit… I didn't expect us to end up here. Back at Hogwarts. Raising a daughter who somehow turned out better than both of us."
Hermione shook her head, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. "I hoped for it. And I fought for it. But I never imagined I'd get to do it with you."
Draco leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Hermione… I may never stop being amazed that you said yes."
"You never stop saying that," she teased.
"And I never will." His eyes softened, the usual sarcasm fading into raw sincerity. "Because it still feels like I'm dreaming."
Hermione leaned across the table, her lips brushing his gently. The kiss was soft, unhurried — not the desperate passion of their early days, but something deeper.
When they pulled apart, Draco rested his forehead against hers. "You know, I could sit here all evening and be perfectly content."
"Me too." Hermione smiled against his skin. "But I did promise you a stop at Honeydukes… I believe someone wanted to stock up on dark chocolate cauldrons?"
Draco laughed under his breath. "Caught."
They left the Thistle hand in hand, strolling back toward the village lights. As they walked past the party hall where the Gryffindors' laughter echoed, Draco gave her hand a squeeze.
"She's going to be fine, you know," he said softly.
Hermione nodded, her heart full. "I know. We both are."
And under the soft glow of the Hogsmeade lanterns, they walked on — two souls who had once been enemies, now building a life full of love, trust, and quiet moments like this. Moments where the past no longer held power, and the future felt limitless.