Surprise! I haven't written anything in a while, but I was inspired after finding out one of my favorite stories has vanished, so here it is!


It wasn't as if either of them had expected it to happen. True, the war was over, and as Head Boy and Girl they were expected to get along. However, other than their necessary collaborations, they rarely talked, and when they did, it was only pleasant chatter. They didn't talk about the past; it wasn't necessary. After Draco had saved Harry and by extension Hermione and Ron by lying to his aunt that night, Hermione eventually found it in her heart to forgive him after seeing his genuine attempt to be a better person while at school, even if at times all he could manage was keeping his mouth shut, but that was something. Sharing a common room in the Heads' Dorm was not as awkward as they had first thought, and eventually any unease faded into a comfortable silence. They were cordial, but they were not exactly friends.

He was there for the break up. Halfway through the year Ron and Hermione had ended things. They loved each other, sure, but the passion, without the adrenaline and desperation that comes with war, fizzled and burned out as quickly as it had come. It was mutual, but that didn't mean there was no sting on both ends. Draco comforted her that night after finding her curled up and crying in their Common Room, at first awkwardly hugging her to his chest there in the middle of the space they shared as she cried into his shoulder. Eventually he sat with her, him on an end of the couch and her back against him with her legs folded up into something of a fetal position. They just sat. No talking. He just held her and squeezed tighter when she cried, soon enough gathering the courage to carefully run his fingers through her hair enough to sooth her and cautious enough to avoid tangling. Finally her tears faded into sleep, and she slumped against him. He did not move her. Instead, he drifted off to sleep as well. In the morning she hugged him one last quickly, whispered thank you, and retreated to her room. She never cried again. At least not in front of him. That moment was quite they'd ever gotten and the closest they ever did.

The year had passed quickly, and before any of them knew it, end of year exams had been completed. There was still a week until Graduation, so the night before was spent in celebration for the eighth and seventh years preparing to step out unleashed into the wizarding world on the following day. It was a grand time. She found him resting his back against a wall in a corner of the Great Hall as the ball dragged on, clutching his glass of fire whiskey like a lifeline. Having divulged in a bit of drink herself, Hermione felt obligated to make sure his last night in the castle was more memorable than watching from the sidelines. She made her way to him, removed his drink, and replaced it with her hand, leading him to the dance floor. There they danced together and with friends. By the end of the night they'd found each other again, both far too drunk to notice how close their bodies were drawn. It was then that they'd somehow found themselves in the Room of Requirement, the high from dancing all night mixed with the fire whiskey in their blood left passion running thick in their veins, passion that overflowed in and around the other as they kissed. Consumed by lust and fueled with fervent desire, they found each other one last time that night, and in a room hidden away on the seventh floor, above the dancing and the noise, they gave the other a piece of the most hidden part of themselves over and over again.

The next day was one of commotion, everyone wishing their last good-byes to each other and the school, promising to keep in touch while they pursued their careers. Gathering up last minute things was on almost everyone's to-do list, as many of them had neglected to pack up the night before due to the ball. She tried to find him amidst all the chaos that day. Of course, they both had had minds enough to know that what transpired in the Room of Requirement was nothing more than a fling, a one-night stand. She only meant to wish him luck, as no one really knew what he'd planned to do. In the end she only found Blaise who explained that Draco had just left off. To travel, he said. Nothing more. Hermione thanked Blaise and wished him well, and just a little disappointed, she boarded the Hogwarts Expressed for the last time, headed for London. Hermione watched as the castle faded off into the distance, and as it slowly disappeared, she prepared to let go of school, her life there, and their secret encounter.

*Five Years Later*

Hermione woke to being poked in the face by a very determined little boy.

"Mummy, mummy, it's time to get up," he told her as he continued to squish his little finger against her cheek repeatedly, "You said you'd take me to Diagon Alley for ice cream today!"

Hermione finally stirred, prying her eyes open to lovingly glare at the five-year old, "When did I mention anything about ice cream?"

The little boy gave his mother an evil little grin, "I knew that'd wake you. Come on!" he exclaimed, giving her hand a tug before running ahead of her, "We've gotta meet Uncle George!"

Hermione smiled to herself as she stepped smoothly down the hall after the child, muttering to herself, "Cheeky little five-year old."

She entered the kitchen to find the boy climbing into a chair at the end of the table. Hermione smiled even wider. He was such a bundle of energy. She moved to the cabinets to pull a quick breakfast. Oatmeal and apple slices would suffice for today. Hermione quickly set to work slicing apples and heating the oatmeal. After sprinkling it with sugar and cinnamon, she placed the food and a small cup of orange juice in front of the boy before setting herself and her portion at the place next to him. He quickly tucked in. It amused Hermione to no end, how it was her little man was in such a hurry and pretended that he hadn't been watching her, chin perched upon his hands with elbows thrown on the table with a sleepy smile and grey eyes brightly shining.

Soon after, they were dressed and moving toward the door. Hermione did not mind apparating with her child, but she know her son loved the train, and she lived close enough to King's Cross in order to walk to Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron. Stepping out the door, the boy slipped his hand into his mother's. Before they could continue, however, Hermione felt a tug on her hand and looked down to see her little boy deep in thought.

"What is it, Scorpius?" Hermione asked him.

Scorpius lifted his eyes to meet hers and tilted his head, "I don't know, Mummy," he told her with a shrug, "It just feels…a good day."

Scorpius's bright smile was enough to melt Hermione's heart, "That it is, love," she responded.

With that they moved on, Hermione's smile as bright as her little boy's, without another thought to the boy's strange prediction. Neither knew just what a day it would by as they walked hand in hand in the bright summer sun, light glinting off the little boy's white blond hair.


No one knew Draco Malfoy was back in Britain. He had communicated with very few people over the course of the past five years. Of course, he'd sent notes and post cards to his mother every few months to let her know he was alive and well. His other contact had been Blaise. A few years into his travel, Draco had a remarkable idea. Through finding himself and who he wanted to be, Draco had travelled to countless wizarding communities and even some muggle communities, many of which were now associates of his and partners who donated rare goods, money, and even customs to his business. In his journeys, Draco had – with the help of Blaise – arranged plans to transform Malfoy Investments into a business more multi-faceted than ever before. Draco had just come from a meeting with Blaise to discuss the first steps needed to implement their plans. They'd discussed over a lovely breakfast at a small and well-renowned café and restaurant in Diagon Alley that opened up shop just after the conclusion of the war. It seemed that the Wizarding World Draco had known growing up had gone through a restoring transformation all over, everything repaired to beyond its former glory and some. In the excitement of it all and since the day was still fairly young, Draco decided to do a bit of exploring to satisfy a bit of his new-found curiosity. He could run some errands along the way.

Draco stopped first at Madame Maulkin's thinking he would better invest in some newly tailored robes now that he was back and about to rejoin formal Wizarding Britain. After, he purchased a new Eagle Owl he decided to call Tuga as a shortened version of the name Oyetuga, belonging to Nigerian royalty of whom he had met in his travels. The Nigerians were fierce wizards adept at battle magic and ancient healing spells. Awunmi Oyetuga, the reigning prince of the wizarding and muggle community alike, was a beast of a man that Draco recalled fondly at the sight of the regal and elegant bird. He justified his sentimental purchase by reminding himself that he'd need a new means of communication now that he was back. Draco smirked to himself as he realized that even though he had returned that it would take him a while to stop living in his other worlds.

Draco was so lost in thought he almost ran over a petite young woman exiting a shop, the front of which he was passing. The near collision startled the young woman enough so that she lost her footing, but Draco reached out to catch her just in time.

After steadying the girl, Draco offered an apology with an outstretched hand, "My apologies. I'm afraid I didn't see you there. I'm Draco Malfoy."

The young woman looked up at him with a friendly smile and shook his hand firmly before greeting him in an accent that seemed mildly Scottish, "So you're that mysterious fellow who disappeared all those years ago. I see you're back now. I assume it hasn't been for long though by the looks of it. Forgive my clumsiness. I'm Tillie Vanders."

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Vanders. I beg your pardon, but you seem to know quite a bit about someone whose been gone for some time now. If I may be so bold, how is that?" Draco questioned her curiously.

Tillie gave a chuckle, "I know many things about a lot of people. One hears quite a bit when you run a shop like this." She gestured to the shop behind her.

It was then that Draco realized where he was standing: outside the window front of Ollivander's Wand Shop. Subsequently, he noticed the stark whiteness of Tillie's hair and the peculiar twinkle in her bright, blue-green eyes. It was baffling, truly that Tillie resembled her predecessor who was so assumed to have no living relatives. Tillie noticed the surprised look on Draco's face.

Tillie giggled, "Close your mouth or you'll catch a fly. I may be young, but I know very much about wands. Fascinating things, they are. I will neither confirm nor deny your presumptions of me. However…" Tillie gave him a small, curious smile, "it would do you well to remember that some things truly are as they appear although not so simply understood or explained."

Draco thought he saw her twinkling eyes shoot a pointed look in another direction, but they were back on him before he could follow their path.

"It was a pleasure to finally meet you, but I'm afraid I've been holding you up for long enough. I'm sure we've both things to attend to today. Good day to you," she told him with the same smile.

Draco nodded his well wishes and started to continue on his path when she called him from the door, "Oh, and by the way, Call me Tillie! Mr. Malfoy…" she overemphasized his name before disappearing inside the shop with a laugh, her knee-length white curls the last thing he saw of her.

Finally continuing on his way, Draco noticed the direction he was traveling was the same one he was sure the young witch had looked when she'd given him strange advice. Not that it bothered Draco; he was no stranger to strange advice after his life experiences in the past five years. He decided he'd accept it with an open mind as he passed the Weasley's joke shop thinking he'd have to give that shop a look on another day. What harm could come from good advice anyway?

Once again lost in his reverie, Draco had stopped paying attention as he approached the restaurant where he was to meet Pansy, Theo, and Daphne for lunch. For the second time that day, Draco collided with someone exiting a shop, except this time it was with a young woman and the child she had in her arms, both of whom seemed equally as oblivious to the approach of another as they laughed over ice cream. Just as they had exited the shop, the young woman turned his way and collided with Draco. Quickly, Draco righted them and himself, apologizing profusely even before looking up.

"I am so sorry, please forgive me…I must be all out of sorts walking among civilization again. Honestly, I really am…" Draco paused as he met the gaze of the young woman. "Granger?" Just as quickly, his gaze was drawn to the child in her arms. Instantly, he froze, shocked, taking in the white blond hair and grey eyes and small hands that held tightly to his mother's shoulder and the ice cream cone she had so recently purchased for him. It was a shuddering, brief moment as Draco took in the situation. It was as if he was looking into the past – his past – as he stared at the boy. His heart dropped as his gaze slid back to Granger. Her hair was wild, cheeks flushed, and her bright eyes were wide with the same shock he was feeling. He felt as if he should say something. It was an impossibly possible moment as that was all it was – a moment. It was only a moment and then, as Draco opened his mouth to try and find his voice, Granger snapped out of her shocked state and gave a tiny gasp of fright before vanishing into thin air. Draco stood stunned for a minute more, staring at the spot where Granger had stood only seconds ago with all the answers, and now all he had to assure him of what he'd seen was the small ice cream cone that had fallen and splattered against the sidewalk just as he was sure his heart would once he found out the truth.