POST WAR DRACO, THEO, BLAISE + MORE
He says, "Oh, baby girl, don't get cut on my edges. I'm the king of everything and oh, my tongue is a weapon. There's a light in the crack that's separating your thighs.. 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙤...
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A cold, bitter winter was in full force in the outskirts of Ottery St Catchpole in Devon, England. Snow was falling harshly onto the hard, wet ground for several days now. Accumulating in piles of soft, white fluff that was perfect for throwing snowballs like the innocent adolescent we all once were.
I am somewhat ashamed to admit that I had a great time at the Weasley's house for the holidays. Molly made every overly cautious attempt to welcome me into the family. Neville was here often- even before our parents got hurt. And while Nev was here most holidays, I spent with Daphne and Astoria or with Gran when she wasn't working.
I think it took me only a few days to understand that everyone here didn't feel hostility toward me. I wasn't one-sixth of the Slytherin Six. Now five. I wasn't the girl who fought on the wrong side of the war. I wasn't the girl who ruined her family dynamic by choosing the side of darkness.
To the Weasley family, I was Hermione Granger's girlfriend. Neville Longbottom's twin sister. I was Lydia Longbottom, and that was it. It felt odd—a comforting type of strange that made me feel warm and whole.
Granger has been slowly accepting being out as a lesbian. For sure, she could take all the time she needed to adjust to whatever situation she was put in. Everyone around us was beyond accommodating and accepting of her new identity. Including Ron, whom I have been getting along with. Surprisingly.
Hermione didn't hold my hand around the others until the second day. It wasn't until the third day that she sat next to me at the table during meals.
I was used to this version of her. The stolen glances in the full Hogwarts corridors as classes changed or the subtle smile she would give me the library when we both didn't want anyone to know about us.
We both were far too used to this. I wasn't sure how to break her out of her shell besides reminding her that it was alright. It just proved that even the bravest of them all still struggled with self-identity post-war.
The space at the Weasley's house was minimal, but somehow they all made do with what little they had. The burrow was an overcrowded, cluttered, haphazard house held together with the wizarding equivalent of baling wire and bubble gum, and there is a genuine shortage of money shown by the need to "make do." But, the capacity in the house was semi-vacant since the war had been over.
A few years ago, Nagini attacked Arthur Weasley after looking over the Department of Mysteries for the Order of the Phoenix. His recovery time was extensive and he's just now getting back to his full self post-war. Molly and Authur moved their room to the main level so that he wouldn't have to move up the stairs so often.
