Hermione had always been the smart one. Books and Cleverness, that was her. In her second year she spent most of her spare time in the library, trying to figure out what could be attacking all the Muggle-Borns. In her third year, she managed to figure out what Lupin was by only looking at when he got 'ill'. Hermione was a miracle witch on legs. But after the Second Wizarding War, the loss of many of her friends, and the death of Lord Voldemort, Hermione's life went on. With all of her memories, and obviously her best friends Harry and Ron, she moved out of her parents home and got her own house, just up the road from 12 Grimmauld Place, where Harry lived. Her life was perfect to her. She didn't need to be rich, or have love, she was fine wirth her friends. She had matured, and so had Harry. (Not sure about Ron though... he was still an idiot sometimes.) Harry had proposed to Ginny eventually, and had got married, and George had taken the Joke Shop up a notch in memory of his twin brother Fred.
Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, was the the bullying idiot Hermione had thought him the be. He still considered her to be a 'dirty little Mudblood' and still hated Harry. After allt hese years, you would've thought he had got over that. He had moved out aswell, though, to across the road to Hermione, which was annoying in a way. Sometimes she caught him staring at her window. But she figured he wasn't staring at her. Most of the time his curtains were open, though, and Hermione couldn't help but peek once in a while. Mostly he was lounging on his sofa, playing with his wand if he had nothing else to do. She had also figured that Narcissa visited much too often. Every morning, except the weekend, she would come knocking at around 7:30pm. Hermione found it highly amusing watching Draco shoo his mother down the garden in his pyjamas. But Draco was nothing more than that to her.
Well that's what she thought anyway...
