EXIT

Epilogue

A/N: For the perfect reading experience, I strongly recommend re-reading the prologue beforehand. You will not regret it! ♡

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Epilogue

How do you know you're still alive?

Perhaps because the balmy breeze carries the sweet scent of summer into your nostrils and golden rays of sunshine peek through the treetops, caressing your skin and making you squint as you look up at the azure sky.

Or because every step you take on the lush green meadow feels light, for your whole body is rested, completely relaxed thanks to the little nap you took in the red-white striped hammock.

Maybe because the laughter of your friends is louder than the chirping of the birds, which in turn tells you where to look for them and makes you climb the stairs to the large terrace where they seem to have gathered.

No doubt because Hermione Granger is wearing a colorful, floral sundress as she steps through the patio door, followed closely by Ginny Weasley, who is balancing a baking tray in her hands and beaming from ear to ear. And because there's a flickering candle on the Slytherin green cake that you'll probably have to blow out.

I run a hand through my hair, abashed, insecure.

For the first time in ten years my birthday is being celebrated and I don't know how to act.

Today I turn twenty-seven. Almost two years ago I defected to the Resistance. Nine months later we defeated Tom Marvolo Riddle. It's been over a year now and I've never been occluded since.

I let my gaze wander over those present, all of whom are looking at me expectantly. Harry and Pansy, Ginny and Blaise, Luna and Neville, Ron and Theo. And Granger, of course.

She takes my hand and pulls me over to the table. As feared, she asks me to blow out the candle and make a wish. Basically it's pointless because I already have everything I've ever dreamed of. Fate was kind to me. Luck was on my side. I lean forward anyway and oblige her. Maybe there is a wish after all. Just a small, last, humble one?

The others applaud as the flame goes out. I only have eyes for her, though, and how could I not? She looks absolutely stunning.

Granger's skin is sun-kissed and covered in freckles. No longer because she has to be on watch so often, but because we spend every nice day in the gardens of the Manor. Her hair is curly, not as wild as it was in our school days, but it has regained some of its bounce. These days it's honey-blonde, bleached by the sun or maybe thanks to her magic, I'm not sure.

And she smiles. With her mouth and her pink lips, but also with her eyes, light brown and warm. She stands on tiptoe and kisses me.

"Happy Birthday, Malfoy."

I tighten my grip on her waist like she might vanish into thin air if I don't hold on for dear life. Most days, being with her still feels like a dream to me. She squeezes my hand reassuringly, as if she knows what's on my mind.

"Fancy a walk?" I ask as the others dig into Ginny's cake.

And Granger nods.

Side by side, we stroll down the marble stairs and into the wildflower garden we laid out this spring. It's a paradise of colors, scents and honeybees. A little oasis. A sanctuary. I think the garden becomes the Manor quite well. Even my mother praised it on her last visit.

Why the Manor of all places? Well, you could call it a coping strategy of sorts. Or an act of rebellion. Proof of how resistant we are. But there are also practical reasons. As a matter of fact, it's the only place where there's enough room for all of us. Everyone has their own wing, but nobody has to be alone unless they want to be. It was Granger's idea. Naturally.