A/N: Hullo. This is my come-back fic... I think I'm doing better~

THERE IS NO DANCING INVOLVED IN THIS FIC. Zilch. Notta. Nada et cetera et cetera (I can't dance and I can't even write properly so if you mix those two together...)

Cough. Enjoy! :D (or not since this may be angsty in the future? Mwahahaha)

Oh and, Epilogue? What epilogue?

Disclaimer: A Dance with Dragons is George R. R. Martin's. I haven't even reached that book yet. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter Everything. I only own the plot on this one. And ("spoiler") Starkid owns Pigfarts. :)

Edit: April 19, 2014. One year and a lot has changed, and wow I feel a bit embarrassed with this fic as it has a hint of my childishness hahahha. Just minor formatting and proofreading. The awkwardness is still visible - sorry!

A Dance with Dragons

Chapter 1

She starts with the series of questions Healer Ives gives to them before the head healer comes in the private rooms.

"Mr. Malfoy, how is your wife?"

"Dead," he replies with a smile whilst chewing a cookie.

With a face of bewilderment, Intern Eve jerks her head to Mrs. Malfoy on the corner.

Hermione smiles with slight pity at the new girl. "We were, I suppose, going to file a divorce..." she drifts off, and then turns back to mindlessly rearrange the flowers Draco got from his mother.

"She's as good as dead," Draco tells the cookie he is currently inspecting before eating. "Right, Ms. Her-mi-oh-knee?" He glances at the woman.

His wife sighs. "She is."

The intern looks between the couple then writes the exchange on the pad. "Your school, Mr. Malfoy?" He shakes his head and she stares at him patiently. After a minute, "Hogwarts, Durmstang, US schools...?" she coaxes.

Draco turns and waves a cookie at his wife, grabbing her attention. "Thanks for the cookies, Ms. Harmony." He grins.

She smiles sweetly at him. "No problem, Draco." He nods and continues to chew his cookie with a serious look.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

He turns his attention at the girl in front of him and raises his nose a little higher - a pure Malfoy signature.

"Pigfarts," he says seriously and dismissively at her. He reaches for another cookie on the table between him and the blank faced intern.

Hermione laughs, almost a bit maniacally than supposed to. She is used to this, and sometimes, finds it charming. She walks over to the couch and sits beside him. She passes him a glass of milk from the end of the table. He smiles, showing a few cookie bits on his teeth, making her chuckle. She reaches for his hand that holds the half eaten cookie and guides it, dipping it into the glass of milk in her hand. His face shows absolute interest at the action and taste.

The young woman in front of them stares at the two and sighs. Sometimes she wishes that she took her cooking internship instead of starting one with Healer Ives.

"Do you know where Pigfarts is, Ms. Eve?" Draco asks minutes later, dipping another cookie into the glass an amused Hermione still held in her hands.

"No, Mr. Malfoy. Where is it?" She sighs impatiently at his horrified look.

"And you're a doctor?!"

Hermione shakes her head slightly when Intern Eve huffs. "Where, Mister Malfoy? Mars?"

"Can you stay with me tonight, Ms. Granger?" he asks softly with a pout to match, making her heart flutter.

She walks fluidly to his king sized bed – their bed - and sits by his side. He stares blankly at her with his grey eyes as she says nothing - only taking his image in. If she stares longer, she can almost see his old self staring blankly at her. But when she's near to him, and a second later as expected, his eyes flash brown. He gives her that charming smile that she feels - is - unworthy for. His long fingers twirl a tendril on the side of her face as he speaks, "Don't look so sad, Ms. Hermy-onie."

She chuckles because, really, what can she say or do? She's supposed to be sad. "I can't stay with you tonight, Draco," she begins. "I can call your mother for you." She can never stay with him again on this bed.

He pouts. The idea of a grown man pouting – especially a tall and handsome man who capture Death Eaters and has a license to kill – is a weird thought. But with the Spell, the dim light in their old bedroom, and his angelic face of pure innocence - he's perfect. Hermione thinks she could fall in love again like this.

"But she's not you."

She smiles with played amusement so he won't comment on her 'sadness'. She takes a wrapped cookie from her pocket and gives it to him. Her eyes are mischievous at this moment, and his smile widens. She makes a shushing sound and passes it to him. "Don't tell your mother," she whispers for effect. He wouldn't, and Narcissa wouldn't really mind. "Never," he whispers back like it is their dirty little secret, and takes a bite.

He tackles her, after licking off the crumbs from the sides of his mouth, asking for more when she refuses to give him another. He continues to wrestle her and reach into her pockets in search for a cookie. The cream, silk sheets get messed like her brown hair, his pillows get scattered and they're both laughing like they're five again on their old bed. A nostalgic feeling comes to her. Yes, she thinks, she can fall in love like this again. She is still in love.

She's not used to the guest bedroom at the end of the hall. She's used to their bedroom three doors to the left. It is the nearest, though.

It is not really a perk to hear his screams, but that's what she has planned to hear since the new arrangement. Hermione runs.

They're alive, his eyes. Grey, alive, scared, angry, confused. He may act like a child most of the time, but his strength is another matter. Instead of her holding him, he's holding her arms tightly. "Hermione," he harshly whispers. His face scrunches and he looks older, anger flickers on his face, and his grip tightens.

Lucius and Narcissa come through the door and stops as the younger couple continue to stare at each other, unmoving. The air is thick and prepared. "Dray-co," Hermione says slowly. His eyes flash brown and his grey ones are the same old stone.

He immediately hugs her; she freezes but holds him back seconds later by instinct. "I had a nightmare," he tells her. His voice is like a child again. Soft, small, and scared.

Narcissa gently places her hand on her shoulder. The older woman tells her that they will handle it. Lucius is getting a Dreamless Sleep Potion. She needs to rest, her mother-in-law repeats and repeats. Draco says almost incoherent works into her ear - cookies, magic, bad men, wife, guns - they are rush but she still listens. All she hears is Draco's voice.

Narcissa taps her shoulder again gently - the pureblood woman's magic spark slightly from her fingers, making Hermione aware. This time she complies, letting Draco go, leaving him with the arms of his mother.

She walks almost dreamily back to her room. All she can hear is Draco's voice whispering, "She's not dead, the mean woman is not dead, she's shouting at me, she's pushing me, she's not dead Hermy-oh-knee, she wants me..."

She's not used to her new bed in the guestroom. This time she is thankful for it.

A/N: Ohh intrigue. The plot thickens. Hahaha :D

With this, I shall post the second chapter. :)

Anyone caught the AVPM/AVPS reference? Couldn't help it. "Your school, Mr. Malfoy?" "Pigfarts." That line started this whole shebang and my challenge to write again~ Tell me what you think? Corrections? Review please! :D