Thank you for reading my story. JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me.

Chapter One

There was only one way for Hermione to avoid talking to Fleur Weasley, who was a lovely and quite charming witch, but also incredibly boring and intimidating, and that way was for her to duck out under the tent, and cross to the gnome garden infront of the Weasley's house, where she could sit and relax in peace behind the wall and let her migraine pass. So that is what she did, with a quick, swift dive, she was out from under the white tarpaulin and strolling across the Weasley's garden.

It was Harry's' 19th birthday, and had planned a surprise party for him at the Burrow. It had been a wonderful day, she had caught up with Bill and Charlie, danced endlessly with her boyfriend Ron, whom she absolutely adored, and got a chance to talk to all the people she hadn't seen for a while. But now Ron was with his friends, and Hermione, tired, had resigned to sitting at the bar alone, before she noticed Fleur making her way towards her and pulled a Houdini like escape stunt.

It wasn't that Hermione didn't like parties, she just felt like and quiet time, alone.

The air was muggy and scented as she walked into the small gnome inhabited garden, hoping to sit in the shade under the wall.

But someone was already sitting there. Draco Malfoy.

She didn't remember anyone telling her he had been invited. Or even seeing him in the tents. He must have been hiding out.

Draco Malfoy looked rough. His eyes were black and his hair line was visibly starting to recede even at the ripe age of twenty. Hermione frowned; he wasn't someone she particularly looked forward to bumping into. In fact, after the war she would have been glad to never see the blond git's face ever again. But there he was infront of her, and as his hate filled eyes snapped onto hers she knew she couldn't just quietly escape.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and scowled at her, "What are you doing here Granger?"

Hermione scoffed, "Excuse me Malfoy, but in case you hadn't noticed, this is my best friend's birthday party."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed in a dark scowl and he looked away.

Hermione stood watching him, her feet on the brink of turning and walking away, Malfoy's retort having re-assured her it wouldn't be the rudest thing she could do.

"Sit down Granger, I don't fucking bite." He muttered.

Her eyebrows flew up, but she sat down where she stood, the grass slightly damp with dew on her bare legs. His eyes were away from her.

"Why are you here Malfoy?" she asked, her voice accusing and stressed.

His grey eyes dragged across to meet her brown ones lazily.

"Because, Granger, I was invited."

Her arms wrapped around her small frame, she tried to lock in the remaining heat in the air that was slowly being dragged away by the breeze. She was watching Malfoy, the question burning on her tongue of who had invited him. He didn't say anything.

He was staring at the yellow flowers opposite him, not a care in the world showing on his pale face. But Hermione, even without being the smartest witch of her age, could tell there was obviously some problem, otherwise he wouldn't be hiding out in the garden. She guessed it was probably the awkwardness of the whole situation; whoever had invited him probably did it to be polite and didn't actually expect him to show up.

It was common knowledge that after the war the Malfoy's broke away from the dark side. Draco, Hermione learned, had moved away from home and into London. His parents hadn't been seen in public for weeks. Her eyes fell to his left arm, where she knew the dark mark lay under the thin grey material of his shirt, the same one that lay on his aunt's forearm, his aunt who had tortured her, and left a scar of a different kind on Hermione's pale forearm.

Her throat tightened at the memory, and she looked away. There was no need to go back there in her thoughts. Today was a happy day, and she had never been happier than she was now, with the war over and Ron as her boyfriend. Everything was falling into place like a perfect jigsaw. Hermione found herself hoping the pieces were falling reasonably for Malfoy too. She wanted to put the past behind her.

Draco Malfoy wondered why he was even here. Ginny Weasley, the youngest of the ginger weasels that he hated all through school, had sent him an owl inviting him to come. He knew she was dating Potter now, and in the letter she had explained how much she wanted Harry to be able to live normally now, and the fact she didn't want him to have any bad-blood with his old nemesis. The war, the fighting, the hatred… it was time for it to end.

He had agreed to come for one reason, to show everyone he too was normal now. He didn't really care what the goody two shoes ex-Gryffindors thought of him, if he was honest, but he was a Malfoy, he was to be respected. And he wanted to start a new life. Never did it cross his mind that Potter and he would become friends, but if going to some lousy party would prove to everyone that he, Draco Malfoy, was just as normal now as the rest of them, and then he would go. And go he had.

He didn't however, foresee the extreme awkwardness he faced when arriving. Harry, with a grunt under his breath at Ginny, had gritted his teeth and shaken his hand.

He exchanged hellos with a few of his old school mates and hightailed it to the bar at the back of the tent, where he had a few fire whiskeys, avoiding eye contact and staying quiet.

When he could no longer take the piteous looks being cast at him without a vicious insulting remark falling from his tongue, he snook out, for a few deep breaths, to the small garden. The last person he expected to see arriving after him was a blushing Granger. He cursed under his breath when he saw her, wearing a blue frilly dress and peering at him with the same look in her eyes that everyone else held when they saw him, anxiousness, pity, and an old resurfacing hatred.

Not that he actually cared, at all. In fact Draco Malfoy found himself wondering why the fuck he hadn't just apparated back to his one bedroom settee by now; it wasn't as if staying was doing any good. Her frowned at the annoying girl standing across the small garden,

"What are you doing here Granger?" he drawled, it was almost a habit, at this stage, to question the Gryffindor whenever she willingly wandered into a place he was clearly inhabiting.

"Excuse me Malfoy, but in-case you hadn't noticed, this is my best friend's birthday party." Her voice cut through the heavy air and brought him back to his school days.

He frowned, that wasn't what he had meant. He knew she was here for Potter's fucking birthday; everyone was here for the golden boy. What he wanted to know was why the golden girl was sneaking out to the back garden, on her own, in the middle of fiesta de la Potter.

"Sit down Granger I don't fucking bite." He muttered, his grey eyes wandering to the flower beds across the garden, where a gnome was hiding, grumbling under its breath.

"Why are you here Malfoy?" she asked, her voice accusing and stressed.

His grey eyes dragged across to meet her brown ones lazily, she was sitting now. He didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. Good that Granger was comfortable enough with him now to make light, vomit-inducing annoying conversation with him. Bad, because now Granger was apparently comfortable enough with him to make light, vomit-inducing annoying conversation.

"Because, Granger, I was invited." He snapped.

Why the fuck else did she think he had come?

Silence fell between them. He wanted to ask her again why she was hiding out here, with her feet bare in the wet grass and her arms wrapped around herself to stay warm, but she didn't ask him anything else about why he was here, and he realised she didn't care. He decided he didn't care either. It wasn't like sitting with someone he had spent 6 years of school with, enemies or not. It felt like sitting across from a complete stranger.

She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back against the hard stone wall, little bits of her escaped hair catching on the glittering granite. She wondered absently if Ron had noticed her leaving, and wished she had thought of asking him to accompany her out here.

He crossed his ankles as his legs stretched out infront of him, glancing at the snobby witch across from him to see her eyelids flutter closed. He wondered why he hadn't been smart enough to bring someone he knew along with him… Pansy perhaps. At least then he wouldn't be alone right now. He should leave, no one would notice.

Hermione couldn't rid her brain of fast racing thoughts. She should go back into the tent; it was rude to leave without telling anyone. But maybe she would just stay a bit longer… until Ron noticed and came to get her. No one else would notice, surely.

Draco stood and brushed off his trousers. His hair falling in his eyes, he shoved it back roughly. Granger's eyes flashed open and caught him as he started to walk towards the gate.

"Malfoy? Why are you leaving?" she asked him, frowning. His eyes pierced hers and she winced.

"I'm going home Granger, there's no point in sitting here all night." He spat.

She wouldn't let him talk to her like a dog anymore.

"Draco Malfoy what the fuck is you're problem?" she stood up, hands balling into fists in her skirt.

"Calm down Granger. I don't have a problem. Go back to your drunken troll of a boyfriend… if he's even noticed you've left-"

"How dare you?! How dare you call Ron a troll! After all this time I figured maybe you had grown up a bit, but no! You're always going to be an evil little gargoyle aren't you Malfoy?" Fury lit up in her brown eyes. She was done taking shit from Malfoy.

In two strides he crossed the lawn and caught her arm in his.

"Don't you talk to me like that! Filthy little-"

"Mudblood?"Her voice cracked, she held his gaze.

His eyes widened. He had almost said it, again. He had vowed never to say it to anyone again. He had tried to change, to fix his old ways. But Granger, Granger and her annoying whining words had snapped something in him, and whatever it was apparently controlled the part of his brain that held his new found manners. His face looked pained.

Tears welled in her eyes as she yanked her arm out of his grip. The war was over, she was safe, she knew that. But to some people she would always be just a filthy little Mudblood. There was always going to be people who thought like Malfoy.

"Granger… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to talk like that." He muttered. She shook her head, brown eyes meeting his again.
"Don't apologize Malfoy. That's how you think of me. I can accept that. Just don't act like you care, or bother pretending you're ever going to change."

She knew her words were harsh, and they hit him like a ton of bricks.

Was he never going to change? Was it impossible? No. He decided in that split second that Hermione fucking Granger wasn't going to dictate to him how he lived his life, and whether or not he was a new man

"Hermione, look at me. I am sorry. Honestly. I am changing, everyday. I don't want to live like that anymore, like a death eater. It's just… coming here, to a party…. Trying to fit in yet being judged by people who can't even tell I know I'm being judged, people who have given me a chance and then proven they didn't think I was man enough to accept it. I know it's my fault. I know all of the looks and glares and whispers behind my back are my entire fault. But I don't want it. I don't want to be Draco Malfoy anymore. I want to be…. New. Different. God-damn it Hermione I want a fucking life."

His eyes lightened as he talked, his face becoming more and more vulnerable looking before he snapped a scowl back into place. Hermione breathed out. She didn't think Malfoy had ever talked to her so long, with a civil tongue. And never, not once, could she remember him calling her Hermione. She was lost for words as she stared into his eyes. He was serious, she realised, and he actually was trying. And even if he looked like he was about to hex her right here and now, Hermione knew it was only because he was devastated at the fact he had been so open about his feeling with her, and that he'd actually admitted to having feelings.

He started at her, her lips parted and eyes wide. He had shocked her, fucking hell Hermione granger the know-it-all had finally been silenced by him. He scowled at himself.

Why in hell had he told her about his plan, his failing plan, to change? He hadn't even realised himself why he was so depressed about this bloody party, until the words had tumbled form his mouth in a fast paced blur. Now it was out there, hanging lifeless in the air between him and the girl he had religiously despised for six years.

Hermione touched his arm, her eyes warm. She had certainly never expected Malfoy to trust her with his problems like that, but she was more like Molly Weasley than even she knew. When his guard fell, when the hardened mask he wore cracked and she saw the man underneath was crying out for help, when his voice broke and his lips tremered and he told her he wanted a new life, she knew she had to help him.

"Malfoy, Draco, I – thank you for apologizing." She mumbled.

He looked at her, thinking how she was till the most annoying, stubborn and infuriating witch he had ever met. But now, and it was once again only his fault, she had become his lifeline. A lifeline to a new life. Surely to god she could help him change, if anyone could. Despite despising her, he knew she could be trusted. Her eyes glowed golden brown and made him feel….hopeful. Maybe it wasn't a waste coming to this party after all. He suddenly thought it would be quite a good idea to get on talking terms with Hermione at least, then possibly Potter and Weasley. He smiled at her, a small, crooked smile that involved his left check raising and his lips pulling up awkwardly. She smiled back at him, a proper smile that made her eyes crinkle and her dimples appear like magic.

"Hermione… will you help me? Please?" he asked.

She nodded, "Malfoy… Draco, I'm sure I can try helping you. We can come to some arrangement."

His stiffed back relaxed, and his smile came more naturally. "Thanks…. Hermione. Maybe now we won't have to be strangers anymore."

She grinned, a smile that was wiped clean from her face as a redhead stormed across the yard towards them.

"Ron-" she started, but he cut her off.

"Mione! Where'd you go for?" he slurred. "What the fuck did this twat do to you?!"

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