Hey, hey, hey! This is the new version that I mentioned in my last update. Please be kind and review. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Tell me if you like this one better, or if you would like for me to continue on with the old version. Thanks for taking your time to give this a chance!

My Favorite Mistake
By: Fanfictoobsesso

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Summary: WARNING! HBP SPOILERS! It's been six years since Dumbledore's death and five since Ron's death and Harry's defeat of Voldemort. Hermione is now ready to start the beginning of a somewhat normal life with a new apartment and a new, boring desk job...just as she liked it. But when Draco Malfoy, who has been missing since he botched his one and only task from the Dark Lord, shows up at her door, her ho-hum life suddenly gets a little bit more interesting.

Listen to: My Favorite Mistake - Sheryl Crow

Chapter 1
Hermione's Prologue


Everything happens for a reason.

I know that.

We're supposed to learn from our mistakes, but I have yet to learn my lesson. Even though I'm a witch, I'm still human. Humans are imperfect…capable of being wrong. And, boy, was I ever wrong. I don't know what I ever saw in that cruel, loathsome, pompous, evil, little…

Anyway, you get what I mean. Making mistakes is hard enough. Admitting that you made one…that's even harder. It took me six months to admit my biggest one. Remember, though, I'm only human.

I suppose you'd like to hear the tale of how Hermione Granger – Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes, one part of the Golden Trio, brightest witch of my year – finally screwed herself over, correct? Well, I guess I'll begin with this:

There is a song by an American Muggle by the name of Sheryl Crow who once sang a song about her "favorite mistake." Well, although this story is about my biggest mistake, it is also about my favorite.

My favorite mistake.

Draco Malfoy.

Hermione was running. It was all she ever did anymore. For the past five years since they had left the – ahem – comfort of the Dursleys home the moment Harry became of age and was, therefore, released from the spell his mother had left on him when he was a year old, she and Ron were on the run right along with him.

She made a sharp turn to her left into a thick forest, narrowly escaping a beam of green light coming from behind her. She didn't stop running, though. She continued even though her lungs begged for air and her legs burned and tingled with exhaustion. Finally, she saw that she was deep enough into the forest and collapsed behind a particularly thick bush.

As she caught her breath, she began to think, not for the first time, about how life was before she decided that she would stay by Harry's side until the very end. She still had her fair share of adventures, yes, but not like this. Merlin, never like this. She peeked around the bush to see if the coast was clear and saw that it, indeed, was. But she stayed low and waited for a bit longer, just in case. Constant vigilance! she thought wryly. But she found that it paid off, for not two seconds later, someone came staggering through the trees, his (or her) face hidden by a black hood. Of course, that only indicated one thing for sure – this person was a Death Eater. Hermione stayed low and pulled out her wand, quickly thinking, Petrificus Totalus. Immediately, the shadowed figure went rigid and stiff, falling over, face first, onto the forest floor. Hermione waited a while longer to see if this one had any back-up with him. After seeing that he (or she, Hermione hastily added to herself) was just as alone as she was, she came out of her hiding place and walked over to the rigid body flipping it over.

"Malfoy," she spat, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. Surely, after what Harry had told her about Draco Malfoy failing his "master" and leaving the murder of Dumbledore to Snape (at this memory, Hermione felt herself choking up for a second, as she often did when thinking about Dumbledore and his tragic death), Malfoy surely would have been – er – disposed of. Apparently not.

Hermione stared in contempt into the cold, grey eyes of the boy who had made the lives of her friends, in addition to her own, a living hell for as long as they had gone to school together. The last she had heard of him, he had fled Hogwarts with Snape after the murder of Dumbledore back in her sixth year. From what she had heard from Ginny, with whom she and Ron corresponded with on occasion still, Draco had not returned for his seventh year, not surprisingly. In fact, many had not returned, including the Golden Trio, even though the school remained, albeit reluctantly on the governors' part, open until the battle just before the winter holiday. Of course, after that, they had no choice but to send everyone home.

Hermione pulled Malfoy's wand from his pocket and, because she felt compelled to do so, waved her wand so that only his head was not petrified. The rest of his body from the neck down was still rigid. Immediately, Malfoy's expression formed into his too familiar sneer.

"What are you doing here?" they both asked at the same time.

"I think, Malfoy," Hermione began, "that since you seem to be the vulnerable one in this situation…" she punctuated her statement by holding both wands firmly pointed at his chest. He, at least, had the decency to look a bit frightened.

"None of your business, Granger," he spat, although not as vehemently as he would have if not in the position he found himself in. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I'm surprised you even remember my name, Malfoy, considering that the only thing you've ever called me since second year was 'Mudblood'." He scowled.

"Only because, as you said, I am the vulnerable one, here. And I'm not stupid, Granger. Although you are a Mudblood, you are still one of the cleverest witches I had ever come across." Hermione was flattered a bit by the compliment, however reluctantly it was given.

"Yes, that is true. Yet you still refuse to answer my question. Do you think that wise?" To her surprise, Malfoy laughed a bit…a cold, hard, bark of a laugh.

"What would you do, Granger…kill me?" The mocking tone in Malfoy's voice grated on her nerves. But she knew, as well as he did, that she wouldn't be able to kill him. She wasn't capable of such cruelty as to kill someone in such a vulnerable position. But then again…neither would he.

"Of course not," she said after a moment. Then, she couldn't help adding, "But you wouldn't do it, either, if you were in my place." It seemed that she had struck a nerve because as soon as the words left her mouth, Malfoy's eyes darkened with fury.

"Shut it, Mudblood. You don't know anything of it." At the end of his statement, his voice cracked and Hermione watched in wonderment and pity as tears leaked out of his eyes. Instinctively, the reached up and wiped away a single tear with her sleeve. His face made an expression that indicated flinching.

"Don't touch me! I don't want or need your pity." Hermione jerked her hand back as though she had been burned and her contempt for the pale boy returned full force. She scowled.

"Good. Because I'm not offering it." She, once again, placed the Full-Body Bind on Malfoy and left, throwing his wand into the bush she had been hiding behind earlier while on her way.

That was a year ago, to the day. For five years, Ron and I had stuck by Harry's side while he went on his quest to find a way to defeat Voldemort. Of course, he finally did, with very little help and plenty of motivation. I suppose after Dumbledore's death, Harry became obsessed with those Horcruxes and was just so determined to find them all. Of course, getting his revenge against Snape was just a little treat before fulfilling his life duty. Needless to say, although Snape was a teacher and I don't usually have bad things to say about them, I don't miss him one whit.

Anyway, on that particular day, the day I ran into Malfoy for the first time in five years, Harry, Ron and I found ourselves stopping for rest in a small town right outside of London. The town was so small, in fact, that even now, I cannot remember the name of it. But we were just passing through while on our mission to find the last Horcrux on our list and only planned on stopping for lunch and a nap. We had just left the town pub and began to look for an inn when we saw him…Wormtail. Harry had froze on the spot, realizing that where there is one, there could possibly be another. We quickly turned and ran…straight into another Death Eater whose face was obscured by the hood he had pulled over his head. So we ran. Then, incidentally, I ran into Malfoy, in a sense.

Of course, at the time, I was still with Ron. Ron…my first love. He perished shortly after that day in Harry's final battle against Voldemort. Harry won, of course, with nary a scratch. He was able to claim back his first (and only) love, Ginny Weasley. Funny how that turned out…each of us taking up with members of the same family. They are now happily married with a baby on the way and they couldn't be happier…except for the fact that Ron isn't here to share their happiness with them. Or with me for that matter. The painting of Ron which the Ministry had given to both the Weasleys and the Potters (along with a medal declaring that Ron had been honored with an Order of Merlin, first class) is, admittedly, somewhat consoling. But there is only so much a two dimensional portrait can do for a person.

But I digress.

The focal point of this story was how I ended up with Draco Malfoy. Well, it all started on the day which had just been described to you. For the first time in my life, I had seen Malfoy cry actual tears. It gave me some hope that maybe all was not lost and Draco was just a lost and scared man. But I didn't think of it again until a few months later, when I came face-to-face with him again after the final battle was over, but still fresh in everyone's mind. I had just been recently released from St. Mungo's and was finally settled in my newly acquired flat merely ten blocks from the Potter's residence.

Then he showed up at my door.

Hermione had just sat down to read when the buzzer went off. She sighed and padded over to the intercom located in the kitchen. Her bare feet hit the cold tile, reminding her that it was already well into October and she should be wearing socks. She pressed the button to speak into the intercom.

"Are you from the Chinese restaurant?" she asked absently, one hand still holder her book, from which she was still reading.

"Er, yes," a deep male voice replied, but not sounding a bit Chinese. Hermione didn't stop to register this in her brain and simply buzzed the man in. she had settled back down, but not a minute later, a knock came at the door. Once again, Hermione sighed irritably and got up to answer it. She threw it open and revealed the person on the other end.

"Ron…" she breathed before fainting dead away.