Draco was just beginning to get engrossed in the finer points of using half a stewed mandrake and fourteen lionfish spines instead of one stewed mandrake and ten lionfish spines to brew the Wiggenweld potion when the doorbell rang. Naturally, it had to be Potter, for the man had been annoyingly persistent in persuading Draco to join him and Weasley for drinks.
Draco sighed as he swung open the door and opened his mouth. "Look, Potter-"
Then he shut his mouth abruptly. And blinked.
For the person in front of him was not Potter at all.
The person had long, curly brown hair flecked with snow from standing outside in the cold too long and dimpled cheeks flushed pink when he opened the door. The person had warm brown eyes that told a thousand stories but shone with hope and affection when they focused on him.
And the person stood awkwardly in the door for a moment before lunging at him and hugging him tightly.
Definitely not Potter, then.
The scent of her, like old books and jasmine, invaded his senses, and the only words he could possibly say in that moment was "Hermione- it's really you- you're finally back-"