After the war, Draco had left the Wizarding World to settle in London. He had wanted to escape everything, to escape the looks of disgust, the ruins, the Manor where so much horror had taken place, the reminders of his fuck-ups, and more so, the reminders of his friends' deaths. His friends had never been perfect, hell, he wasn't a good definition of perfect either, but they were still his friends, and loss was loss. Even the death of his father pained him, but not as much as it pained his mother. He had noticed that when his mother looked at him, she had a small smile and would sometimes whisper, "You look more and more like him every day". That was probably the reason she decided to leave for a small village in France where they owned a house on a hill. He didn't blame her, there were times when he couldn't face his reflection, too scared to find his own father looking back at him.

He had left the Wizarding World and crossed to Muggle London on December 25th, 1998. Everyone was too busy and too happy to be bothered with what a former Death Eater was up to. It had been the perfect day to go. He had settled in a small apartment, just above an old hair salon that he hope he could transform into a bakery. He had always been good at cooking, he found it was very much like potions.

Now, four years after he had moved out, Draco had a somewhat successful bakery, and every afternoon, he would leave for the school just a few streets away. The headmistress – an old woman who reminded him of McGonagall – was one of his clients, and one day she had asked him if he would be interested in teaching young children how to bake. He was delighted to be given a chance like that and had requested he do it for free. The mere thought of him being near children would've probably raised an uproar in the Wizarding World but here, he was given another chance and just for that, he was grateful.

"No, Emily, you can't put a full pack of sugar in that bowl", he said with a smile, "your parents would most probably kill me."

All the children had a bowl in front of them, and Draco was giving them instructions. They all seemed very concentrated, except for one in the back who was having way more fun by simply throwing flour on his friends. He couldn't really blame him. When Draco was five, he wasn't the well-behaved child he could've been either.

"Alright, now you should all have an almost liquid mixture in front of you." He shot a playful look at the kid with flour on his face and nothing in his bowl. "If you like vanilla, you can add 1 teaspoon of this bottle I'm gonna give you. Then, we'll be done for today and I'll bring all of you your brownies tomorrow !"

Once everyone was done and had given him their bowl to bring back to his bakery, he decided to clean the mess his students had left behind. As he was about to get his wand out, he heard someone behind him. He turned around and saw one of his students, Rose, dragging her mom behind her. He was surprised to see who exactly the mother was. He had never hoped to run into anyone he knew when he settled in the Muggle World, and definitely not Hermione Granger.

She hadn't set eyes on him yet, she was eyeing the floor with precaution so as not to step on flour or milk. Rose said gleefully, "See mommy, I told you he was still here. Mister Baker, this is my mommy!"

At that exact moment he was relieved the kids still called him "Mister Baker" and not his given name, he doubted Hermione Granger would be standing in front of him had Rose called him "Draco".

"Well, I finally meet the man my daughter talks so mu-". She cut herself when she realised who he was. There was no mistaking it, his hair, his nose, the tattoo on his left arm. It was definitely Draco fucking Malfoy. "Talks so much about." She finished. After a minute of silence, she turned to her daughter and said, "Uhm, Rose, why don't you go wait in the hall? Mister Baker and I have to talk."

The girl nodded and smiled at Draco, "Goodbye Mister Baker."

"Goodbye Rose, take care."

When the little girl had left, Draco sighed, "Look, I'd understand if you don't want me to be around your kid or -"

"Can you teach me how to bake?"

Draco blinked. Once. Twice. "Wait, what?"

"Can you teach me how to bake? Rose loves it when you come to the school to teach them, and now she wants me to bake with her. I'm absolutely rubbish at baking though.. at cooking too, mind you."

"Uhm, I, yes, of course. When would be the best time for you?"

"Could you come over this weekend, say, Saturday at 10am? Rose wants to bake cookies. We don't live too far, I could text you the address."

"That would work fine by me." They exchanged phone number and she texted him the address. Holding his phone, he still couldn't believe that the name "Hermione" was there, with a text under it. A text for him. From Hermione Granger.

"It was a pleasure seeing you again, Draco. I'm glad you've changed for the better."

And with that she was gone. Hermione Granger. Wow.

He was standing in front of his mirror now. The clock on his dresser said 9:15am. He had spent 30 minutes on choosing an outfit. Salazar, I'm actually going to Granger's house. He couldn't believe this wasn't a dream. Seeing her, after all this time. He couldn't believe it. Hermione Granger.

When he had gone home that night, he had had a panic attack. Every memory from the war had come crushing back on him. But the more vivid ones were of her, in the Manor, with his aunt on top of her. He drew in a sharp breath to stop his train of thought. If he could help it, he'd rather not have another panic attack just before going to her house.

He went to the bathroom, splashed his face with some fresh water, and looked at his reflection. He looked scared. Come on now, it's just Granger. No need to be scared. You're gonna bake cookies. Not duel. He smiled at himself and to reassure himself, gave his reflection two thumbs up.

He ringed the doorbell, half expecting a perfect stranger to open the door and tell him that no Granger had ever lived here. Something that would prove he was dreaming. This couldn't be real, could it? He couldn't possibly be going to Granger's house, could he?

Just when he thought he probably shouldn't have come, the door opened to reveal the one and only War heroine. And yet, it looked like the war never happened. She still looked young, and beautiful, and happy. She smiled at him and ushered him in.

"Rose has been jumping around the house every since she woke up. She's really happy that you're going to bake with us today."

How does she do it? How is she acting like we're friends? "Granger, I'm really sorry."

She looked confused at first. "What are you sorry about? You just got here! And please, call me Hermione."

"About everything, I'm sorry about everything."

"Draco, I... Well, I never expected an apology about.. everything. But thank you. I'm sorry too."

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Sorry? What could you possibly be sorry for."

"For not helping you when you needed it. For not helping before you stood in front of Dumbledore. For... everything?" She smiled tentatively at him but he couldn't comprehend the situation. Hermione Granger. Apologising. To me. This has to be a dream.

When he didn't answer, she turned towards the kitchen and said, "Well, now that that's out of the way, Rose is probably waiting for us. Shall we?"

He followed her, and sure enough, Rose was in the kitchen, sitting on the floor with a cat on her lap. When she heard Draco and Hermione come in the room, she beamed at both of them and pushed the cat away gently so that she could stand up. She rushed to give Draco a hug while yelling "Mister Baker!" Draco smiled down at the child hugging his legs and said "Hello Rose, ready to teach your mom how to bake cookies?"

Rose let go of Draco's legs to jump around in the kitchen. Hermione giggled and Draco couldn't help but smile fondly at the view. This feels nice.

They had spent the whole morning baking cookies. Hermione had called for pizza since they didn't have time to prepare a correct meal after all the baking. Draco had only accepted to eat take out if he could make it up by helping cook dinner tonight, a request that made Rose jump around in the kitchen again, and that made Hermione smile.

Rose had insisted after the pizza that they all watch movies on the telly until it was time to make dinner. She had settled on the sofa with Draco on her left side, and her mother on her right side. She hugged Draco's right arm and Hermione's left arm tightly and only let go of her grip when she fell asleep. Draco removed his arm as gently as he could before standing up. He showed Hermione the kitchen in a silent request to talk to her there, and the witch silently nodded before following him.

They cooked silently, with only the radio playing soft jazz melodies in the background. Hermione had propped herself on one of the kitchen counters and was humming along with the radio, while Draco cooked a sauce for the pasta, with a hint of a smile on his face. He liked this. No, he loved this. It felt good and it filled him with a warmth he had never felt. It felt right. Yet there was still something lingering in the air, something that needed to be addressed, even though it didn't seem Hermione felt it. With his eyes fixed to the sauce he said:

"Hermione, about earlier. I don't think, I don't think it was enough. I don't understand how you could accept an apology as short as "I'm sorry", or how you don't even seem to need me to say "I'm sorry" to let me back in your life. I was a git, an absolute arse all throughout Hogwarts, and I never properly apologised. There is not justifying what I made you go through, all those years of bullying. I'm ashamed of who I was, hell, I'm still not sure I like myself today. And then there's the.. the war. Merlin, there isn't a day that goes by where I wish I hadn't done half of the things I did, all of the things I did. Or the things I didn't do. I'm sorry I didn't help you when you were... when, you know. Look, I'm just sorry, and it feels like all of this should be harder, it should be harder for me to be in your apartment, it should be harder for me to have a nice conversation with you, but you're just... you're just handing it over. Like we're friends."

He finally looked up and met her eyes. He wished he could read people's faces like they do in the books, to just have an idea what she was thinking. And then she smiled softly before looking down at her hands. Draco wondered if she had heard his monologue or if he had just been mumbling and now she didn't want to risk asking him what he had said. But she looked up again and said in a soft voice, as he was the only one who she would ever tell this.

"I never expected an apology because I had already forgiven you. You see, after the war, I was a mess. I couldn't really live with myself, I was full of anger, but I was also tired. We had won the war, but it still felt like it wasn't over, and it wasn't, you know? Just because Vold... You-Know-Who was dead, it didn't mean all the hatred in the world had disappeared. And I kept asking myself, why? Why do people hate, how can they truly believe that some people are inferior? And it consumed me, it was killing me, it took so much energy from me. And, I realised I couldn't keep being so angry at everyone and everything. We were all kids back then, and to some extent we're still young. And people change, you know? So I decided to take a break from the Wizarding World to just, find myself I guess. Along the way, I realised the best way to live as happy as I could was to forgive as many people as I could. And for some reason, you were the easiest to forgive. I never doubted there was good in you. And I'm glad you proved me right."

His eyes had gone back to the sauce along the middle of her speech. She was always so full of knowledge, she always had the answer to everything it seemed. Brightest witch of our fucking year. And I'm cooking for her. Fuck.

He turned off the hotplate before turning back to her. He looked into her eyes, and he wished he had something to say to her but his mind was just one sentence on repeat. She's amazing. He looked away when she smiled at him, but she took his chin in her hand and turned his head to meet his eyes again. And then she kissed him.

It felt wonderful. The warmth he had felt before increased ten times. He raised his hand to lay it on the back of her neck. She felt soft against his fingers, and she felt soft against his lips. When he felt her smile against his lips, he backed away and looked at her with confusion. She was smiling the biggest smile he'd seen her smile. It made her look younger. He tried a smile of his own before asking her. "What got you smiling like that?"

"I've wanted to do this for a while. And it's even better than I thought it would be."

She cupped his face and brought her face close to him. She hesitated and kissed his cheek first, and then when she looked into his eyes, Draco brought their lips together again. She was everything he didn't know he needed.

He had placed his hands on her hips and was kissing her deeply when they heard a giggle. Draco took a step away from Hermione and shoved his hands in his pockets before guiltily looking at the door. Rose was looking at them, half-hidden behind the wall. "Are you gonna be my new daddy?"

Hermione grinned at Draco. "Will you be her new daddy?"

Realising Hermione fucking Granger had just asked him out, he breathed in before answering with a very Malfoy smirk. "Well, I do have a lot of cooking to teach you, don't I?"

He felt like himself again. For that he had Granger to thank, and he could think of more than one way to show her how grateful he was.