This is my first story so I hope you enjoy! It takes place when Hermione and Draco are both twenty two, after the war. I do not own any of the characters, blah blah blah. Enjoy! Please review and tell me what you think!

It had been one week since she had gotten the news.

It was all her fault. If she hadn't erased their memories, then maybe they wouldn't be dead. The last sentence she ever said to them hung on her tongue, bitter and sharp tasting. She repeated it over and over, hoping that if she said it enough, it would lose its meaning.

"Obliviate."

She rolled over in her bed, glaring at the sunlight that dared to leak in through her window. Her alarm chose this moment to go off, and she moaned as a muggle musician shrieked out lyrics to what was considered music. For a moment she considered skipping work, but then she remembered the pile of bills on her counter, and swung her feet out of bed, wincing at the cold floor. That's how everything felt now. Cold.

She had been eating dinner when the owl had arrived. It informed her that Lucius Malfoy had found her parents, that he had murdered them, that he had been caught and his trial was in two weeks. It might have said more, but at that point all her composure was gone. She had run to the bathroom, throwing up as she realized the truth. Her parents had died without knowing her. They didn't think of her at all, and they never would again. Now, a week later, she was still a mess. She picked up the Daily Prophet and saw his sneering face on the front cover, being dragged away by multiple aurors. Hate bubbled in her chest as she stared into his dark, hateful eyes.

An hour later Hermione was out the door, a cup of coffee in hand. The cold wind caused her to narrow her eyes and, as a result, she walked straight into a man walking nearby. Her bag split open and scattered all over the sidewalk. After mumbling a quick "sorry", she bent down to pick it up. She was vaguely aware of the mysterious man beside her, collecting the multiple books that now littered the pavement.

She stood up to tell him thanks and froze, dropping everything she had just picked up. Stormy grey eyes met chocolaty brown ones, and a smirk appeared on the very familiar face in front of her. Hermione, however, couldn't breathe. Those haunting eyes had appeared in the newspaper for the past week, had been the last ones that her parents had ever seen.

"Take a picture, Granger. It'll last longer." She blinked, and realized that it wasn't Lucius Malfoy standing in front of her, but Draco. He had stopped smirking, and she could see another emotion dawn on him. Realization. He understood why she was acting so skittish.

"Look Granger, I'm not my fa-" She flinched visibly and turned on her heel, sprinting away before he could even finish his sentence. He grabbed her elbow but she whipped around before he could say anything.

"I don't need your pity!" She spat at him, enunciating every syllable and injecting every word with poison so he wouldn't miss the hostility behind the words. He stepped back and she took that as an opportunity to escape, ducking under his outstretched arm and towards the coffee shop that she worked at, one of four different jobs.

Out of all her jobs, the coffee shop was her favorite. Maybe it was the smell, or the friendly customers, or the warm feeling she got when she was in there, but she loved it. She found that the scent of coffee beans seemed to cling to her, infecting her pores and seeping into her clothes, even after she left the café.

Once she got to work, she managed to calm down some. It's not like I'll ever see him again, she thought, tying her wild curls into a knot at the back of her head. At that moment, the bells above the door jingled as another customer walked in. She looked up to send them a warm smile but it froze on her flushed features as she realized who it was.

"What do you want?" She snarled at him.

"I would like a caramel mocha with – "

"That's not what I meant and you know it!"

He looked at her and narrowed his eyes. "What happened? You used to be so forgiving and kind. I used to call you-"he stopped and choked a little on the word. "…Mudblood and all these other horrible things, but you never reacted this way." Something in his words defeated her, and she sighed.

"I'm sorry. It's just-"

"My eyes."

"Come again?"

"I have my father's eyes. Don't I? That's why you can't look at me." True to his words, she had been very careful not to look directly at him since he walked in. Hermione chewed at her lip but didn't answer, deciding whether he was trustworthy or not. She thought about everything he had done and said at Hogwarts, and the obvious answer was clear – no. But here he was, acting like a normal human being, and it shocked her.

"I, however, am still waiting for my mocha." She snarled at him and went to work.

"Haven't changed a bit," she grumbled under her breath, looking up just in time to see the signature Malfoy smirk directed at her as the manager of the café chose this moment to walk in. Hermione cursed and pasted a fake smile on her face.

"What was that, Granger?"

"Nothing!" she said in the happiest voice she could muster. Practically shoving the drink in his hands, she grimaced and said, "Have a good day!"

"Will you be here tomorrow, Granger?"

"No," she said even though, in reality, she was here every day of the week except for Sundays.

"Well, I will. At eight A.M. You should come."

"No," she said again, relief washing over her. She didn't have work until night.

"Please, Granger. You can't resist my charm any more than every other woman can."

"What charm?" she sneered at him, her muddled brain unable to form a better comeback. Draco's smile just grew wider.

"Have a nice day, Granger." She shot him a glare, determined not to give him the satisfaction of aggravating her.

"A response is usually customary." His smirk reappeared and she resisted the urge to smack it off his face.

"Have a nice day, ferret!" she practically sang, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Sarcasm is not attractive," Draco goaded.

"Whoever said that was just jealous that they couldn't do it properly." A smile tugged at the corner of Draco's mouth.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I really must go." Bells jingled at the front of the shop and Hermione shot him one last suspicious glare before turning away to attend to the new customer.

As Draco headed out into the cold, a lazy smile appeared on his face. She was witty, and fun to be around, even if she hated him. The grin disappeared, however, when he remembered exactly what his father had done to her family. He didn't use the name of Malfoy anymore – he avoided telling anyone his last name. His family tree was tainted, and not in the way that his father and mother and aunt always believed. The name "Malfoy" was no longer something to be proud of.