As promised, something new! Let me know what you think. Also, I still own nothing.

Chapter 1

It began in Australia a year after the war ended. Though Draco Malfoy was mostly exonerated for his crimes, the Ministry saw fit to sentence him to community service. It was his idea, upon learning of Hermione Granger's parents. He offered her money and his services in tracking them down. Though reluctant to accept his help, she knew she needed it. He was smart, and that intelligence could come in handy. Days after his trial ended, they were in Australia.

"You didn't have to do this," Hermione commented as she unpacked her few belongings.

Draco shrugged as he copied her actions. "Sure I did," he replied, his old mocking tone gone. "The community believed I needed to be of service, and this seemed like a better use of my time than trash pick up in Diagon Alley. At least here I can use my brain."

"Well, deciding which is trash and which would be recyclable could require a little brain power," she remarked, receiving a surprising chuckle from the cold blond. "Um, I am happy to have help. I really appreciate this, Malfoy."

He nodded and sat down on his bed when he finished his task. "Why did you choose Australia?" he wondered. "Why not someplace more specific?"

"My dad always wanted to go to the Sydney Opera House," she said fondly. "Even if he's not really himself, at least this way he's safe and might get to see it."

"I think that's nice," Draco decided. "All I did to protect my parents was take the Dark Mark. At least your strategy was effective."

Pushing her suitcase beneath the other bed, Hermione took a seat beside him. For possibly the first time in her life, she didn't know what to say, and so they sat in silence. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but neither moved. Unable to stand the silence any longer, she said, "I'm hungry."

Draco chuckled. "You've been a Weasley too long," he joked. He glanced at her, fearful that what he said angered her. Instead, she laughed.

"No, I haven't yet picked up the habit of talking with my mouth full," she replied. "When I do, that's when I've been around them too long."

He shifted uncomfortably beside her. "So, um, why didn't they come?" he wondered. He didn't really want an answer, but the question had been gnawing at him since they're departure from England.

Hermione scowled, her lips pursing. "Oh, they offered," she muttered, lying back on the bed. "Told me they'd join us to protect me from you. Like I can't take care of myself. Of the three of us, which one has managed to take you down?"

"That would be you," Draco replied, rubbing his jaw as if it still hurt five years later. "You don't seem worried. Not that I'd do anything. One toe out of line and I'll end up in Azkaban. Not that...not that, um, that's not the reason I wouldn't do anything. I'm not that boy anymore, Hermione."

"I know," she murmured with a smile as he hesitantly laid down beside her. "You wouldn't be here if you were. Well, I guess you might have if the Ministry mandated this for your community service, but it was your all idea, wasn't it?"

Draco shrugged as he stared at the ceiling. "I liked the idea of getting away," he told her. "Away from the people who hated me, the places that now terrify me, the memories of every horrible thing I've done."

"My mum always used to say that you can't outrun your memories," she told him. Beside her, Draco nodded in agreement. "But maybe it'll be easier without the constant reminders. At least, I hope it will be." Her own dreams were often plagued by the events of the previous year. She saw death, destruction, and her own torture by the hands of Draco's deranged Aunt Bellatrix. Days would pass without sleep until Hermione finally broke down and took dreamless sleep potion. Fearing an addiction to the stuff, she took it only when it was absolutely necessary.

"I feel different here," he confessed, pulling her from upsetting thoughts. "Safer."

Sighing, she closed her eyes and murmured a soft agreement. Soon, the pair was asleep, side by side. For the first time since the war ended, she slept through the night. With the rising sun, she awoke, squinting against the new light. Beside her, Draco snored softly as he held her waist loosely. He began to stir, attempting to bury his face in his arm to keep the sun out of his eyes. Hermione stared at his arm, wondering if he would move it from her waist. Instead, he tightened his hold on her. "Go back to sleep," he mumbled.

Try as she might to fall asleep again, she found it odd that she had spent the night in Draco Malfoy's arms. "I can't," she finally told him, attempting to sit up.

His grip loosened as he opened his eyes. A gentle blush colored his cheeks when he realized he had been holding onto her. "Sorry," he murmured, letting go to sit up and stretch. "I, um, I'm sorry for being improper."

Hermione vacated the bed to gather her clothes for the day. "I didn't interpret it that way," she assured him, before slipping into the bathroom. "So, um, how are your tracking charms? I brought a few of my parents' belongings that I'm hoping will help in locating them. You are able to do spells like that, right?"

The shower turned on, and Draco stood by the bathroom door. "With any luck, we can find them today," he replied. "The tricky part will be reversing the memory spell. I've never attempted that before."

There was silence on the other side, and minutes later the water turned off. Hermione opened the door with a towel wrapped around her still wet body. "I hadn't thought of that," she admitted. "I mean, I have, but I'm not sure how to do it either. I did read that the Cruciatus has been known to reverse them, but I can't do that to my parents."

"We'll figure out a way," he promised, placing his hands on her damp shoulders. "I know we will."