first meetings and second glances

2003

Hermione Granger doubts that Harry 'the Chosen One' Potter can ever finish his report in time, what with the wedding coming up and all. She has never understood the hassle of weddings, considering that she's never tried to plan one. Still, she can be empathic when she needs to be—and seeing Harry looking absolutely knackered in his office is enough for her to offer her help with the reports.

"We're in different departments, Hermione; you can't just do my work and let me take credit for them." Harry had replied with a tired smile.

"They wouldn't know!" Hermione had hotly protested.

"Hermione," Harry then prompted, giving her a sharp look that clearly said: 'I can handle this on my own.' With that, he ended the conversation and she went back to her desk, fuming at how ungrateful he was.

Unbelievable, she growls in her mind, they've copied off of me their entire life in Hogwarts and suddenly they're too good for it!

She pours her anger by finishing the rest of her paperwork, letting her quill fill in the measly pages. It's not unlike Harry to care about his work, considering that it was his dream to become an Auror when they were young. Maybe she shouldn't have reacted so aggressively towards his response. She'll apologize later or maybe not at all. Fights between her and Harry never seem to last forever.

"Ah, Miss Granger? You have a meeting with the Minister in ten. He requested for your presence in Courtroom Ten," she hears a faint high voice from the doorway. She looks up to find her rather timid assistant whose bright orange hair did not match her personality at all.

"Thanks, Amanda. I'll be going then." Hermione replies politely as she fetches her robes with a flick of her wand. She stands up from her desk and gives one last look at her office, noting how her quill is still writing the reports and how the stack of papers at the edge of her desk are organizing themselves to the compartments she assigned. She gives her wand another flick and everything comes to a stop.

She walks out of her office, and is greeted outside with different wizards and witches scurrying along the hallway. Although it doesn't seem like it, the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has always been a busy department. When Hermione first entered the Ministry after officially graduating at Hogwarts, she fell in love with the smooth wooden floors and the high bricked walls. However, her passion for S.P.E.W. is what truly motivated her to pick this department. Her choice clearly shook the Wizarding World but, then again, any of her choices no matter how simple rattles the common minds that read Rita Skeeter.

She quickly maneuvers her way to the lift, squeezing in with the other folks too busy with their work to notice anyone.

Once the lift reaches Level Eight, most of the passengers come pouring out, leaving only her and a wizard from the Department of Mysteries. Another person climbs on the lift, clearly annoyed at the absent-minded wizards that pushed him on their way out.

Except, Hermione realizes, this person is not just another random wizard.

She recognizes that scowl. She also recognizes the pale complexion, the sharp features, the cold dark gaze, and the platinum-blonde hair. She'd recognize him from afar, considering she's spent seven years of her life trying to tune out his bloody insufferable insults.

"M-malfoy?" Hermione hates that she stuttered at that.

At this, Draco Malfoy turns around in surprise. Hermione then sees in close quarters why many witches find him attractive. His jaw line grew to be sharp, and his chin long with a generous cleft chin. His lips are fuller, definitely thicker, and rosier than last time she saw him. His nose is still pointed, but is now facing downwards instead of the haughty way Malfoy used to face it up. The main difference is his blonde hair, now long enough for him to make a loose ponytail right above his neck. What makes Hermione take a sharp intake of breath is the way his grey eyes pierce right through her. She feels as if he's a teacher, about to scold her for doing something wrong.

"Granger," he greets curtly. He turns again, ignoring her for the time being.

She feels as if her tongue is too dry. But, being the curious witch that she is, manages to ask, "What are you doing here?"

"That's really none of your business, is it?" he replies coldly, refusing to look back at her.

Well, she fumes in her mind. She shoots daggers at his back, hoping that it can somehow burn a hole through his skin.

"Stop that." Malfoy demands. It's only when he speaks that she realizes she has left a small hole on his robes because of her glare. She squeaks with embarrassment, her facing exploding into embers.

The lift reaches Level Nine and all three of the passengers get out.

"But, seriously, Malfoy," Hermione starts again as she watches the other passenger walk inside the large door to the Department of Mysteries without hesitation, leaving the two of them alone, "what are you doing here?"

Malfoy sighs as he finally looks back at her. This time, his eyes are not as piercing and intimidating, but annoyed. He says, "If I tell you, will you please shut up?"

"Sure," Hermione replies breezily.

"Today is Lucius Malfoy's trial."

She turns pale, but not as pale as Malfoy is (if she's being honest, no one can be paler than Malfoy). Did the fact that today is the older Malfoy's trial slip past her? Surely the current Minister, the ever-so graceful Kingsley Shacklebot, would have told her yesterday when he informed her about this meeting. But, as she rattles her brain to remember the exact events, she realizes that Kingsley seemed unable to concentrate that day. Maybe that's why he's forgotten to tell her such important information.

Hermione wants to ask Malfoy again (what exactly is he going to do whilst at the trial?), but remembers that she has a promise to honor and Gryffindors honor their promises.

They start to descend the stairs on the left. She notes how grim the dark stone walls are, wondering if the Ministry designed this so that the person on trial will understand how precise and efficient his punishment will be if ever found guilty. The old lanterns that hang on the walls look especially ghastly.

When they reach the end of the staircase, Hermione is relieved to see Kingsley himself in his dark robes, waiting quite impatiently with his arms crossed over his chest. Relief also dominated his features once he sees Hermione skip over the last few steps of the staircase.

"I'm glad you're here, Miss Granger," Kingsley greets. He looks over to Malfoy who's clearly disinterested to see the Minister. With a small smile, Kingsley greets the man, "You too, Mr. Malfoy. I believe you are needed inside immediately, yes?"

At Kingsley's rhetorical question, the large wooden door in front of them opens slowly.

Malfoy, although looking grim and distant, manages to say politely, "Yes, thank you, Minister."

He swiftly walks inside the courtroom without another glance, and the door shuts firmly once he's fully inside.

"I didn't know this was Lucius Malfoy's trial," Hermione whispers immediately, shock written all over her face.

"I forgot to mention that part," Kingsley says with regret. "But, yes, we will be watching his trial. It's part of your training."

"Then why is Malfoy here?"

"Family member. And, also, he's a witness."

Hermione registers the drop of her stomach, unable to reply to her superior. For the second time that day, her empathy resurfaces and she feels pity for Malfoy. Even if he was a nasty bully, Draco Malfoy is still human. For him to be part of the trial to decide whether your father rots in Azkaban or not… well, Hermione will be freaking out if she is in his shoes.

Kingsley gives her an understanding glance. Being part of the Ministry surely has its downsides.

They walk inside Courtroom Ten, and settle at the back, leaning against the cold dark stone walls. The courtroom itself is like an amphitheater, with the wizard on trial sitting wrapped with chains on what's supposed to be the stage. The entire Wizengamot, with their plum-colored robes, sit at the high benches, looking down at the person they're supposed to judge.

Hermione stifles a gasp from her mouth as she looks at the wizard on trial. Lucius Malfoy looks horrible. His blonde hair looks as if it has been stepped on plenty of times, and is now completely frizzy. His usually stern gaze is broken, as if he's given up, while his face is battered. He's donning a simple dark robe, the only thing that prevents him from looking anymore pitiful than he is now.

"He was mistakenly dragged to Azkaban two weeks ago. We've only realized now that he hasn't gone through a formal hearing yet." Kingsley explains, noticing her stifled gasp.

"That's outrageous!" Hermione bursts out, immediately covering her hands over her mouth after the words leave her lips. A few of the Wizengamot glance (well, glare) back at her, one even shushed her rather rudely.

"Yes," Kingsley agrees ominously. He doesn't say anything more, and Hermione decides it's not the best time to ask.

A small gray-haired man confidently takes the podium at the front. He clears his throat and formally starts the hearing, "Today is the fifteenth of September. Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, resident at the Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire, is to be put on trial for suspicion of being a Death Eater and actively participating within that group. Interrogators: Elphias Bret Doge, Chief Warlock; Pamela Bristol O'Brien, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement…"

Hermione watches as Elphias Doge lists off the members of the court. Her gaze, however, quickly turns to the people down below. At the back of Lucius Malfoy is his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, dabbing on her eyes a soft pink handkerchief. Narcissa Malfoy has clearly aged: her wrinkles show when she moves even the tiniest muscle, her blue eyes seem so dim and old from where Hermione is standing, and her long blonde hair has noticeable gray strands scattered about. Beside her is Draco Malfoy, his face stoic at the whole ordeal, but his pursed lips suggests that even he is pressured with all this.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy," Elphias Doge cuts through the air. He looks down at the wizard on trial with hard eyes, and asks, "What do you have to say?"

Lucius closes his eyes and clearly mutters, but his voice, despite raspy, is heard throughout the whole courtroom, "I do not wish to deny the court their charges against me. I accept any punishment."

"Oh, Lucius!" Narcissa Malfoy wails at the background. She dramatically leans on his son who, in return, wraps his arms around his frail mother. Meanwhile, the rest of the court all burst out in whispers. Surely, Lucius Malfoy must be mad? He will not put up a fight, despite knowing that his name still has some hold in the Wizarding World?

Hermione alarmingly glances at Kingsley who can only look down in reply, as if expecting this outcome.

Elphias clears his throat, even he is thrown off at Lucius Malfoy's statement, so that the court may keep calm and asks warily, "Are you sure of this, Mr. Malfoy? You have witnesses on the stand willing to defend you against these charges."

"I am sure, Chief Warlock."

The entire court breaks into another bout of whispers yet again. Elphias joins the whispers, glancing at each apprehensive look on the Wizengamot. Hermione can only land her gaze on Lucius Malfoy, who shows no emotion in his face except… defeat?

Hermione is able to reach Draco Malfoy just moments before he reaches the Apparition Point in Level One.

"Malfoy, wait!" she calls, a bit out of breath from running.

He turns around and gives her a look of annoyance before asking, "What is it, Granger?"

"I... well," she finds that all her words are gone.

"It's his decision," Malfoy starts, clearly knowing what she wants to say, "and I have no choice but to go with it."

"B-but…"

"You can't do anything about it, Granger. I distinctly remember that you're in a completely different department."

To which Hermione finally manages to reply a coherent sentence, "I'm training to be part of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement!"

Malfoy actually smirks at this, turning his usual blank face into one of amusement. He tells her sarcastically, "Should I offer my congratulations or condolences?"

"What— oh, you're such an insufferable arse!" Hermione huffs, her cheeks flaming. She's glaring at him with her arms crossed over her chest and her usual bright face turned into a scowl.

He chuckles, a weird sound coming from someone who never does that. It's deep and a bit rough with not much humor in it, but it's still a chuckle. He replies, "Well, I'm glad that you haven't forgotten that."

Before Hermione can say another word, Malfoy quickly cuts her off and bids his goodbye, "It's been nice talking to you and all, Granger, but I have somewhere else to be. Have a nice day."

He leaves Hermione frozen in her spot and obviously flabbergasted because did Malfoy just tell her to have a nice day?

"I'm telling you, Gin, he did say that!" Hermione exclaims, with wide eyes. She's watching her best friend cook in the quite large kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Pots and pans all levitate to help Ginny Weasley with her cooking. Hermione herself has never learned to cook, and probably will never try again after the disaster last Christmas.

"And I don't doubt you, Hermione," Ginny replies as she flicks her wand firmly and without hesitation at all. She continues, "Maybe Malfoy isn't as bad now as he was when we were kids."

"It's strange, though," Hermione says with a frown. She looks back at her steaming tea and the biscuits on the side. Her appetite seems to vanish in thin air.

"Oh, would you set the table please? Ron and Susan are on their way now." Ginny reminds her, turning around to gesture to the dining room beside the kitchen, separated only by a huge wooden arch.

"Do you think Ron's serious about her?" Hermione asks as she stands up from her seat from the counter and walks to the dining room area. She raises her wand and ceremoniously waves it, causing the dinnerware to come out from their hiding place and placing themselves neatly on the huge dining table. She remembers that this is the same dining table where the Order of the Phoenix once sat and discussed their meetings. She can only be glad that that's not the case today.

"With Susan? I think so. Ron told me he's picking out a ring," Ginny replies from the kitchen. After a pause, she accuses, "You're not jealous, are you?"

"Not of Susan, no." Hermione quickly clears up, "It's just that I haven't been in a relationship for so long. I find it hard to look at all the happy couples around me."

"Do you want me to set you up?" asks Ginny sneakily. "I heard that Theodore Nott is looking for someone that you fit perfectly."

"Nott?" Hermione says in surprise, "You're still talking to Nott?"

"Well, it's kind of hard not to, considering he's also part of the Daily Prophet."

"I don't fancy going on a date with a person who once teased me for being a Muggle-born."

"Then why are you so keen on Draco Malfoy?"

"Oh, Gin, I just knew you were going to say that!"

Ginny laughs goodheartedly.

Harry walks in the kitchen just in time to see his fiancé stop her laughter. As usual, his black hair is up in a mess and his round glasses lay skewed on the bridge of his nose. A bit groggy, Hermione guesses it's because he just woke up, he greets the two ladies, "G'morning."

"It's still night," Ginny tells him. "Ron and Susan are coming so best prepare."

"I heard you mention Draco Malfoy. It was his father's trial today, you know," Harry says, stretching his arms upwards in attempt to shake his sleepiness away.

"I was there. Kingsley made me watch," says Hermione. She frowns and relays the final decision of the Wizengamot, "Lucius Malfoy was sentenced to life in Azkaban."

"Now that I didn't know," Harry muses. He sits down on the counter Hermione was previously on and grabbed one of the biscuits intended for her. "I feel sort of bad for Malfoy."

Ginny's eyes twinkle as she looks back at Hermione who comes back to the kitchen, having finished her task in the dining room. Ginny proclaims, "Oh, I bet Hermione does too."

Hermione glares at her friend before taking her place next to Harry. Before she can reply anything, Harry continues his earlier statement, "I mean, the Malfoy Manor was already seized from him and his mother is in detention."

"That seems such a harsh punishment," Hermione comments, furrowing her eyebrows together.

Harry shrugs as he takes a large bite from the biscuit. In between chews, he adds, "Still, I don't think he's too bothered by it since he's deemed as one of the best healers in St. Mungo's."

Ginny gasps with excitement, whilst Hermione gasps with surprise. The former immediately exclaims, "Malfoy is a healer?!"

Harry stares at the two strangely before nodding. "Yeah? Ever since he graduated Hogwarts. I'd thought Hermione would know this."

At the mention of her name, Hermione heats up and shakes her head furiously. During their time in Hogwarts, Hermione and Malfoy weren't exactly great friends and they certainly did not tell each other what they wanted to do after Hogwarts.

"Well," Ginny starts, grinning at Hermione all the while, "who knew Malfoy is such a respectable person?"

"Oh, hush, Gin," Hermione bites back, a blush overtaking her solid features.

2003 (Winter)

"Ginny, I love you and all, but the dress you picked out for me is absolutely ridiculous!" Hermione remarks as she ruffles the ends of the dress pointlessly. The dress, a pastel pink color that Hermione just loves, is long and outrageously puffy at the end which makes it hard to move freely without knocking a drink off a table.

"Oh, but you look amazing!" Ginny giggles. She's wearing her wedding dress: a beautiful white ensemble with an illusion neckline and laced sleeves. Unlike her bridesmaids, Ginny's dress is straight, extending at the end which makes her look like a mermaid. When Hermione first saw her, she immediately cried with joy.

Hermione scowls as she runs a hand through her hair. For this special occasion, Ginny had forced Hermione to use Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to turn her bushy brown hair straight. While she's quite glad that she's able to comb her hair easily, Hermione finds herself missing her bushy hair terribly.

"The ceremony is about to start, Ginny," Luna Lovegood reminds. She's also wearing the same puffy dress Hermione has on. As usual, she's sporting a dreamy look on her face, which Hermione is glad to have remained, considering everything they went through.

"Thanks Luna." Ginny grins.

After the whole ceremony, everyone transferred to the Burrow for the reception. Much like Fleur and Bill's wedding; a huge tent is propped up right beside the house. Harry and Ginny only wanted to invite their close friends and family. There's a strict attendance in which no journalist (especially Rita Skeeter) is allowed entry.

Ron approaches her with pumpkin juice in his hand. He's wearing an expensive set of velvet green dress robes. His red hair is slicked back, making him look older than he really is. He gives her a crooked grin and remarks, "You look like you need a drink."

"I'm not getting plastered here, Ron." Hermione replies with a roll of her eyes.

"I said one drink, 'Mione, not the whole bloody bar."

They talk for a while about the wedding ("Did you see the size of their cake?") and the guests ("I can't believe Great-Aunt Muriel is still kicking."), before Ron gags and undergoes a coughing fit.

"Ron? What's wrong?" Hermione asks with worried eyes as she rubs circles on the back of her best friend.

He stops coughing and points at the farthest corner of the tent. With animosity, he grunts, "What is the ferret doing here?"

Hermione follows his gaze and finds Draco Malfoy at the end of it. He's drinking wine from his glass, looking disinterested at the conversation he's currently in. She notices Theodore Nott, a bit shorter than Malfoy but still just as regal and formal, beside him. Both are currently talking to the unmistakable Professor Slughorn.

"Ginny must have invited Theodore Nott." Hermione answers, knowing full well that Ginny proclaimed to her the week before that most of her co-workers said yes to the invitation.

"And the git invited the ferret?" Ron finishes, and then rolls his eyes. "Just when you thought nothing would go wrong."

"Well, they haven't done anything bad yet, have they?" Hermione says, surprising even herself that she's defending the two Slytherins. "What I mean is that we shouldn't focus too much on them."

Ron eyes her suspiciously, but is not able to voice it out as The Weird Sisters take the stage. They loudly introduce themselves before starting their opening song: a strong rock ballad dedicated to the lovely couple.

Susan Bones comes tumbling towards them, wearing a short simple cerulean blue dress which mirrors her own eyes. Beaming at her significant other, she exclaims through the loud speakers, "This is my favorite song!"

Ron lovingly gives Susan a small smile, the same smile that was once reserved for Hermione a long time ago. The couple excuse themselves to Hermione who lets them go willingly. She watches the two excitedly dance right in front of the band, along with the other fans of the band.

"Touching, isn't it, Granger?"

She turns her head to find Malfoy, dressed in his own deadly black dress robes. He looks exactly the same as when Hermione saw him in the Ministry's lift: pale, cold, and certainly just as attractive.

"Good evening, Malfoy. I didn't know you were invited here."

Malfoy shrugs, taking a sip from his wine glass. He replies after, "I'm Theo's plus one, no matter how sad that sounds. Plus, the Chosen One owes me for the countless times I healed him free of charge."

Hermione rolls her eyes, but a small smile appears on her lips. She reminds him, "St. Mungo's does not demand payment."

"Still, he should be grateful that I do not sneak dung in his potions," Malfoy replies.

"How very noble of you, Malfoy," Hermione sarcastically praises him.

"Not surprising, considering who I am." Malfoy boasts with mock pride, but Hermione can hear the tiniest bit of bitterness in the statement.

She looks at him with worried eyes and Malfoy over to her with blank eyes.

"No wonder you're friends with Potter," he muses. While his eyes remain blank, she can see how it softens. Instead of the cold dark grey she's used to, he surprises her by showing off such a warm bright grey. It reminds her of the skies after the rain has fallen, but the clouds have not yet cleared.

"What do you mean?" she breathes out, fascinated by the clouds in his eyes.

"You wear your heart on your sleeve," he replies with indifference. He's so indifferent about everything that it becomes unsettling to talk to him.

Still, she feels as if she doesn't want to stop talking to him. With fake confidence, she huffs out, "Do I?"

He smiles. Not a smirk, not even a smug grin. Just a simple smile to show his happiness and it causes Hermione's heart to flutter like a lost butterfly. He looks back at the guests, erasing that brief break of his character, and replies a bit more distant this time, "It's not necessarily a bad thing to have."

Hermione feels her cheeks heat. She turns away from him to hide her blush somehow.

The first song is almost over, and The Weird Sisters announces their next song they'll play, 'This Is The Night.' She watches as the some people retire from the dance floor, while twice the amount of people replaces them.

"Do you want to dance?" Malfoy asks, nudging her arm softly with his elbow.

She looks back at him with an incredulous look on her face, "With you?"

"No, with the hippogriff." Malfoy replies sarcastically, before sighing, "Yes, with me, Granger. Unless you're too repulsed to be seen with me."

"N-no, that's not it," Hermione softly protests. Still, as she glances at his patient eyes, she eventually gives in and dances with him for a song.

That one song turns into two, three, four… Hermione does not remember, but she does remember his kind eyes and their childish banter as they swerve on the dance floor, forgetful of the world for that moment.

2004

Ginny's twice as big as she was a month ago. Hermione has enough tact to not mention that fact, but apparently Ron does not.

"He's a bloody idiot!" Ginny growls as she batters the cream on the bowl harshly. Hermione knows that when Ginny has resorted to doing chores without magic, she's definitely angry. The redhead snorts, "As if he isn't getting fat also! I can see his bloody gut when he's wearing a shirt!"

Hermione wants to give Ron a piece of her mind as well for leaving Ginny this emotional with Hermione all alone. Harry, as usual, is busy with his Auror duties. Being an Auror meant sacrificing Saturdays if needed to.

"Maybe Ron's just nervous that's why he took it out on you," Hermione suggests as she quietly washes the dishes. She knows that this can be finished quicker with magic, but she feels that washing the dishes by hand will be cleaner.

"Just because that bloody idiot's going to propose today, I'll let him insult me like that! He's getting g a Bat-Bogey Hex when he gets home." Ginny huffs as she finishes battering the bowl.

Hermione finishes hanging the last plate. She looks back at her small golden watch and reads the time: 9:58. She needs to get going if she wants to arrive precisely on time.

As if noticing her predicament, Ginny looks over to Hermione and remarks, "Got a date with your new boyfriend?"

Hermione's cheeks burn as she quickly denies, "He's not my boyfriend!"

"You spend your Saturdays together, 'Mione. If that's not what boyfriends do, you can hex me." Ginny says, crossing her arms above her belly.

"I'm not hexing a pregnant woman, Gin."

"You don't have to because it's clear you two are dating."

"I need to go, Gin." Hermione replies instead, because they're certainly not having this conversation again. She quickly walks towards the front door. Before opening it, she shouts, "Love you!"

"Say that to Malfoy, not me!" Ginny shouts back immediately.

Hermione brightly watches the snow fall down from the heavens. She snuggles closer to her knitted gray scarf, courtesy of Molly Weasley, that's wrapped around her neck. Her bright red-and-white sweater is also knitted by Molly Weasley, albeit originally meant for Ron. She had stolen it after one of their nights in, when they were still together of course. She tried to give it back, but Ron simply laughed and said she can keep it.

She's glad that it's still hers because it's the comfiest sweater she owns.

Crack!

"Oh, Granger, you're early."

Hermione looks at the person next to him. Even Draco 'the Pure-blood' Malfoy gets cold, shown in his choice of clothing. He's wearing a dark wool overcoat, buttoned up to the top which prevents anyone to see what's inside, and black trousers. Malfoy is sporting Timberlands boots on his feet. As expected, he's fashionable.

"You're late." Hermione corrects.

Malfoy grins. He seems to do that a lot lately whenever they go out. It's been sort of a tradition for them to meet each other during Saturdays. Ever since Harry and Ginny's wedding, in fact, when Malfoy asked her to accompany him to The National Gallery (his exact words: "I've been meaning to find a tour guide, Granger. Care to be one?"). Soon enough, they've spend more time with each other more than they care enough to admit.

"Where to, Granger?" he asks.

"I've been meaning to buy some more books, so…" Hermione trails off, knowing that Malfoy has already gotten the picture.

"Well, there is a bookstore around the corner."

They start to walk.

Hermione strikes up another conversation, "Ginny's been driving me mad. I honestly don't know how Harry does it."

"It's the hormones, Granger. It's better for you to keep her company than leave her alone with her wits." Malfoy replies, shoving both hands in the pocket of his overcoat.

She glances at him and asks, "You've dealt with pregnant women before?"

Malfoy grunts. "More than you, I suppose. It was part of my training."

"I still can't believe you're a healer."

"Half of the Wizarding World still can't believe you chose Magical Creatures over Law, but I suppose we all can't satisfy the expectations of others."

"I suppose not," she replies cheekily, grinning up at the man.

They turn the corner. Malfoy points at the bookstore just across the street, along the slow London traffic. Since it is a Saturday, many of the people around are strolling leisurely along the sidewalks, and the small shops on the side have never been so full. Hermione finds herself loving the atmosphere: the snow that randomly falls, the sun shining brightly but not enough to pierce through the cold winds of winter, and the merry civilians that take their time walking around the city.

They cross the street and enter the bookstore.

The bookstore is a bit small and cramped, but that's only because of the towers of books beside the bookshelves. Many of the books are second-hand, but Hermione considers those kinds of books as the best. Feeling the crisp and certainly use pages brings about a certain exhilarating feeling within her. Plus, seeing scribbles of notes along the spaces helps her understand the previous owner, despite probably never seeing them. Still, Hermione cannot deny the fact that the smell and feel of new books causes her great happiness as well.

She trots over to the Non-Fiction section, as written on the board hanging from the whitewashed ceilings.

"I can never understand why you like secondhand books." Malfoy scowls as he grabs a book with its cover torn. "With all the money you make in the Ministry, I'd figure you'd buy newer books."

"I tolerate your obsession with broken antiques." Hermione points out as she pulls out a book with an interesting title.

Malfoy doesn't reply at that.

She fishes for three more books and they weave through the towers of books before reaching the counter. The man behind the counter is pudgy and looking bored out of his mind. An uneaten donut lay beside him, having put it down after seeing the two approach the counter. He quickly inputs the books on the till before announcing, "That'll be £4.30."

Hermione grabs her small brown satchel that's swung over her shoulder and tries to reach her wallet for Muggle money. Ever since the Golden Trio's quest to find the Horcruxes, she's been obsessed with charming each of her bags for bigger space. It doesn't help that most of the bags she's bought all have such small carrying capacity.

The man on the counter and even Malfoy look at her strangely. Since she's taking too long, Malfoy quickly whisks up £5 and pays the man. In a jiffy, the man on the counter hands Malfoy the exact change as well as the four secondhand books.

Once outside, Hermione looks at him sheepishly. She says, "Sorry about that."

"Accio wallet?" Malfoy offers as he gives her the books she (well, he) purchased. She simply grins sheepishly, not bothering to reply, and grabs the books, placing them in her small satchel.

"Anything else to buy?" Malfoy asks, as they walk among the shops.

"Well, I guess I need to buy Ron and Susan a present. He's proposing today," Hermione mutters, already thinking of what present to buy. She continues to monologue, "Something for their shared apartment maybe? Or maybe a simple bouquet of white roses? No, that seems too forward. What do you think?"

She looks back at Malfoy who's furrowing his eyebrows at her, a worried look on his usually blank face. His lips are pursed, and she knows exactly what he wants to say despite not opening his mouth.

"I'm all right, Malfoy. Ron and I—we've decided that we're no good for each other. It's been three years, you know. We both moved on." Hermione tells him, smiling softly at his reaction.

He coughs and looks away, a bit embarrassed at his reaction. He whispers, "Yeah."

"Thank you, Malfoy," she says.

She notices his rosy cheeks, but decides that it's probably due to the cold weather. They continue to stroll in modern day London, oblivious to the pouring snow above, to the curious glances from onlookers, and definitely to the feelings they pretend to not have.

quick author's note: i hate it when writers portray Ron as the stereotypical guy who cheats on Hermione. Ron's an amazing character and he definitely would never do that to one of his best friends. also, forgive me if i made Hermione and Draco a bit out of character. hopefully the next chapters will be better.