I wrote this two shot for the Dramione remix and since the authors were revealed I decided to post it. I hope you enjoy it, be sure to review, I'll post the second half tomorrow, if I have time and if not it'll probably be on Saturday.

Title: Life Lessons
Chapter: Early Twenties
Author atlashands13
Rating: T
Original Couple: Dexter and Emma (One Day)
Word Count:about 11,000
Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling and David Nicholls, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work.
Summary: Follow Draco and Hermione on one day before Christmas for the next 14 years.
Warnings: Language on both sides, quite a lot of swearing!
Author's Note: This is my first remix ever and I'm quite proud of it. This is my first posted Dramione story too, I never dared to put it in the open, afraid people would not like it, but when I saw Dramione Remix doing another round, I decided to go for it. I'd like to thank the people of Dramione remix for organizing this fest and my beta, Sam.

Update 27/08/2013: I was in a silly mood and wanted to reread my fic for some reason and I found so many typos and such that I have just decided to edit it and polish it up a bit.


December 24th, 2002 - Wildshire, England:

Hermione Granger awakes with an arm slung around her waist. She groans, her head aching. She tries to open her eyes, but the light is too bright. She snaps them close immediately. She groans again, wondering what in Merlin's name happened yesterday night, that she now awakens with a heavy arm gripping her waist and a massive headache. All she can remember is going to Lavender's house, her University roommate. Lavender had invited her to her lovely mansion in Bath. She had exclaimed that first term of their last year in Uni was over and that surely needed to be celebrated. Hermione's original plan was to stay in her small condo in Central London, enjoy a book and a lovely mug of hot chocolate. But Lavender of course objected. She called Hermione the Queen of Dull and was convinced soon Hermione was going to die because she was so dull, too dull. So Hermione went, not appreciating the fact that he roommate called her the Queen of Dull.

A groan snaps her out of her train of thoughts. She turns, curious of who the person she has slept with looks. Her face hits his broad chest and it's her turn to groan. Her eyes snap open, meeting a too familiar colour of grey. She looks at him, it could be for a second, a minute, maybe for an hour, but then she laughs. This is bloody ridiculous, Hermione then decides. Of all people to sleep with, to shag, to bring home, it of course is Mr. Prestige Of Purebloods. She roars out in laughter and she bets she sounds like a maniac, but she can't seem to care. This whole scenario is just too absurd! How on earth did this happen? What in Godric's name did Lavender's put in the butterbeers and firewhiskey? It surely was strong since she actually now was sharing a bed with Draco bloody Malfoy!

"Of all people..." she hears him murmur and she agrees with him, for once. Never in her life has she had a one night stand. This was her first one - and her last one - but never had she expected Malfoy would be the one that she would have a one night stand with. Hell, she never even planned on having a one night stand, not that those things were meant to be planned, but it was just unlike Hermione to sleep with random blokes. Though, Draco Malfoy wasn't really a random bloke, now was he?

She sits up, quickly gathering the blanket together to cover her body. This really is one of the most embarrassing moments in her life, waking up beside Malfoy. She bets she looks like a banshee too, her hair must look like a birds nest and of course she is naked! He probably woke up next to bloody models all the time. She had nothing on them.

She stands up then, pulling the thick blanket with her. A tad too embarrassed that she's naked. She feels nauseated too and decides today can't get any worse. That is until she turns to Malfoy and comes somewhat face to face with his manly bits. She screams and runs out of the room.

"Get your pale arse back here, Granger! It's December! I'm bloody going to sue you if I catch a cold!" he roars from the other side of the room. Merlin, she can already hear him smirking.

"Get out of my bed, you oaf!"

Hermione hears him barking out a laugh. "Your bed, Granger?" he replies. "Look around! Does this look like your house?"

And it doesn't, she notices. She can't believe she's actually in Malfoy Manor. How did she not notice? This was border line embarrassing! She is making a complete fool out of herself! Standing in the hallway with only a blanket wrapped around her naked body. This experience definitely is going to scar her.

She takes a deep breath and re-enters the room. Malfoy luckily covered his manly bits with a pillow, but she can't help but notice his naked torso. She quickly looks away, taking in the messy desk of his. His room smells nice, she notices. Like pineapple, unlike her own condo, that smells like rotten meat. How in the world did she think this was her condo? This room is the size of her whole condo and this is only Malfoy's bedroom. Life's unfair. That, and karma's a bitch. And she still has no idea how she ended up in here. What in the world had she done to deserve this? She had fought the darkest wizard of all time for fuck's sakes, wasn't that enough?

"Get your skinny arse over here, Granger," Malfoy demands. "I'm cold."

"You sure you want to share your bed and blanket with a low Mudblood?"

He gapes at her, not expecting to throw the word Mudblood around like it's nothing. After the war, the word has become a taboo. No one dares to say it anymore, but Hermione doesn't care. She likes how surprised and baffled Malfoy looks. It brings out his features and even though he's a prick, she can't deny that he's handsome. Especially when he has just woken up and his hair is tousled.

"Why did you use that word?"

"It isn't like you haven't used it!" she snarls back. Hurt seems so flash in his eyes, but then they harden.

"Fine by me. You can leave, or sleep on the floor. Whatever suits you," he replies and transfigures the pillow he was holding in front of his anatomy into a blanket. He groans and lies back down.

So there she stands. A blanket wrapped around her body, while gaping at the indifferent Malfoy. It's weird and she wants to leave, but she has no idea where she is. She could very well be in Malfoy Manor, but she has no idea where Malfoy Manor is, so Apparation doesn't seem to be a great plan.

Malfoy sits up again and stares at her. "I can hear you thinking, just come here. Just last night we had bloody sex, you seemed to be enjoying it immensely, so please, Merlin forbid, get over here and join me in this luscious and warm bed, instead of pondering whether you can Apparate the hell from here, because you can't."

"Did you use Legilimens on me?"

"No, but I can read you like an open book. It's good you were on Potter's side in the war; you never would've survived if you lived among the Death Eaters. I bet you're a horrid liar too."

She ignores him, instead, she joins him in the king size bed and sighs in content. This bed is ten times better than her own bed. She now begins to wonder why she loves her condo so much, isn't this much better? A massive bed with fluffy pillows and an amazing smelling bloke to share all of it with? Even though she hates that bloke with a passion.

He wraps an arm around her naked torso again and she stiffens. She tries to lift his arm of off her awkwardly, but he only tightens his grip, nuzzling his nose in her neck. She feels herself turning red and has to force herself to breathe calmly, which proves to be incredibly hard when she feels something poking at her side.

She yelps out. Malfoy opens one eye and smirks. She feels herself getting hot, not in a provocative way, but more in an awkward way.

"So, Granger," Malfoy murmurs casually in her hair, as if his manly bits aren't poking uncomfortably in her side, making her scoot away awkwardly. Without success, may she add. "What are you going to do with your life?"

In one way or another people have asked her this forever; professors, he parents, friends at seven in the morning. Is Malfoy even considered a friend? Even if he is, the question never seems this pressing and still she is no nearer to an answer. The whole mood changes in an instant.

"I don't know," she decides on replying.

He snorts. Hermione looks at him, raising her eyebrow.

"And you then?"

"Maybe travel around. China, India, Paris. Who knows? I have the time and money. Or maybe Nott and I will start a new company, potions," he smirks. "But I'd rather travel."

She feels uncomfortable, lying next to Draco Malfoy, naked. It's strange, but nice. It's nice yes, weird, but in a very fascinating way.

24th of December, 2003 - Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam:

Draco Malfoy feels weird. The sun is shining, it is twenty-five degrees Celsius in Vietnam and almost Christmas. He is used to snow. He likes snow, but instead he's in a club called 'Bo Mo Den', translated as 'The Black Cow'. It is a strange bar, with many tourists. If Granger saw this, she would've laughed her arse off. Laughing at the absurd name and people that visited the club.

"Hello, you look alone," a girl with a thick Vietnamese accent says. She is clothed like a slag and he is almost positive the girl isn't enjoying her job, assuming her job was chatting up men and making money of them.

The girl was petite, just as short as Granger. Her hair was dyed brown and she was wearing high heels. Draco had to admit she had a pretty face.

"Do you want me go accompany you?" she screams in his ear when he doesn't reply. She grazes his cheek with her nails.

Hell, why not? I haven't shagged anyone in months!

So he agrees and lets the pretty Vietnamese girl lead him out of the club. Later he learns her name is Mai Linh. She just turned twenty and likes his pale blonde hair. They shag and he's pretty sure he cries out Granger's name when he orgasms. When he leaves, he feels pretty guilty. He is drunk and alone, one of those pathetic blokes. And he just shagged a girl who probably is forced to shag him. It's pathetic, but he doesn't care. He likes girls. He likes shagging them. And in a very superficial and arsehole way he actually is helping the twenty years old Mai Linh.

Dear Granger,
Vietnam is great. Food is great. Everything is just bloody great, you know. You'd love it here, I'm pretty sure you'd think is great. It is great. God, it would be great if we were to be in Vietnam together. Malfoy and Granger, Granger and Malfoy. It just sounds bloody great. It's just great. We are great. This country is great. Everything is just bloody fucking great!

Hermione is introduced to a new co-worker. His name is Michael Corner and she's quite sure he was in the same year as her in Hogwarts. When he sees her, he shakes her hand. His hands are sweaty and sticky. She wants to pull away, but knows it's impolite to do so.

"You've grown up, Granger. You look great!" he booms. She smiles politely as she awkwardly wipes his sweat on her pencil skirt.

"Same goes for you," she replies, lying. She can't remember him when he was in Hogwarts. And maybe he looks the fucking same, she has no idea. She frankly doesn't care. Michael Corner just doesn't seem interesting.

"You think? Well, Herms," she winces at the horrible nickname. Herms sounds like a bloody disease. Herms is awful. "I like you. I like your frizzy hair. You look great! I swear, you do!"

She again smiles politely and then shows him the kitchen of the bistro in Diagon Alley that was build seven months ago.

I think I'm drunk, Granger. And Fuck me, I'm going to regret writing this letter to you, but I miss you, you know. It was always just fucking great when we were together. Not as a couple. Just as friends. We are a great pair of friends. Aren't we, Granger? You're going to hate me after you've read this so I apologize in advance. I just am so stupid, consuming drink after drink. I know you hate that I drink and now without you keeping me in check. I just keep bloody drinking. Firewhiskey is great though. The images of the war disappear for a bit. Fucking great. Now they're back though, fucking hitting me like a bus. I know what it means now, Granger. A bus, it's a bloody vehicle. Dangerous if you ask me, but they think it's fucking great. They just go everywhere with it. A bus. Just great, you know? It's fucking great!

"So Herms..." Corner says. She winces at the nickname once again. It sounds horrible and she wants to grab him by his collar and scream that her name is Hermione and not Herms.

"Yes, Corner?"

"Michael, remember. Not Corner. We're friends!" he exclaims. "So, what're you doing tonight, Herms?"

Panic strikes her as she realizes he wants to take her out. She is not ready to be called Herms. Not that she ever will be ready for that, but this is all too soon. She wants to tell Corner he can bloody sod off with his awful abbreviations. They're ridiculous and Draco would've laughed at him in his face and call him a hopeless pile of shit. She'd scold him and laugh despite the fact it was just really, really rude and inappropriate.

I am reading the book you send me, you know? It's great! Sappy, but fucking great! It takes me awhile to finish it though, quite a heavy book. I've been busy too, here in Vietnam, not a lot time to read. How is the bistro going? Is it still a fucking pile of shit? Do you still live in that smelly condo of yours? You're ought to get a new place. Your condo smells like dead bodies and rotten meat. Every time I visit you I just want to puke!

"I'm afraid I'm very busy these coming weeks," she replies. A lie. Biggest lie ever. All she does lately is sit in her room. Eat a bucket of vanilla ice cream and then fall asleep on the couch. It's pathetic. Hermione Granger has become a pathetic old lady.

"What're you going to do then? Maybe we can do it together," he smiles. He thinks his idea is bloody marvellous. It's not.

"No, it's something I have to do alone I'm afraid. And you know, with all the Christmas celebrations going on. We'll see after New Year's, how about that?"

"Sounds marvellous to me, Herms!"

"Hermione, Corner. My name is Hermione."

He ignores her correction, instead he says: "What about next Tuesday? The planning said you were free then."

"You looked at the planning so you could find out I was free then?"

"No, it was just a mere observation," he replies as his face is turning red. It reminds her of Ron. When he was caught in a lie of sorts, he'd turn red too. The same shade as his hair, bloody ridiculous.

"So, what do you say Herms?"

"Hermione," she snaps.

"Yes, of course, Hermione..." he mumbles and then looks up again. Smiling that bizarre smile. Like a Cheshire Cat. "What about next Tuesday. Maybe we could go to the Leaky Cauldron!"

"Oh no, Tuesday won't do. On Tuesdays I always wash my hair."

She regrets saying it right after she says it. It's the most stupid thing that ever escaped her mouth. If Draco were to be here he'd laughed his face off. Ask her what the fuck that meant, because it was stupid, just awfully stupid. It really was. She wasn't the Brightest Witch of her Age for nothing, and then bullshit like that escaped her mouth. It's embarrassing and she can already hear Draco laughing, even though Draco isn't here. Even though the arse is in bloody Asia, living the amazing life. It's unfair, Hermione decides. She has to work in a horrible bistro with a moron called Michael Corner and lives in a smelly condo. It really is pathetic.

"Need to wash your hair?" he asks. He raises his eyebrow. It looks like he has some fit, eyebrow raising doesn't fit him.

"Oh you know, washing my hair. Doing my nails. The whole shebang!"

"And that takes you the whole day?"

"I'm going with Lavender. You know her! Very prissy! Clothes, nails, shoes, everything. She wants her old roommate with her. Can't very well cancel on her now. Just a lovely ladies night out."

"Yes, Lavender Brown... I know her," he states awkwardly.

Hermione wonders if he's lying, but maybe he does know her. Lavender did shag every bloody tosser between the ages of eleven and eighteen with something dangling between his legs. It wouldn't surprise her if Lavender shagged Corner too. Anyhow, she was blessed she knew Lavender, because it really was how Lavender was and if Corner did know Lavender, he wouldn't think she was lying.

I'm tired, Granger. My firewhiskey bottle is almost empty. I should go to bed, but I miss you. Fuck, if only we could be together mow. Celebrate the coming festivities together. That would be great, don't you think it would be great? I added a necklace to this, I hope you like it. I wasn't sure what to get you for Christmas. Merry Christmas, okay Granger?

I just miss you, Granger. So fucking much. Wish you and your bossy attitude were here. Come visit me soon, okay?

I love you. You're great! We all are!
Love from your friend,
Draco

He seals the envelope and heads out the door. He feels dizzy but keeps on walking. Taking long strides to the closest post office in Ho Chi Minh City. He feels weird, fuzzy from the inside. He feels great too.

24th of December, 2004 - Diagon Alley, England:

Hermione has a busy day at the Bistro. A lot of people have decided to eat at the Bistro just before Christmas. She wonders why. Food here is the most foul tasting she has ever tasted, but maybe she is just being biased because she hates this place so much. Maybe a bit too much.

"Hey, Herms, Malfoy arrived, again. He's asking for you," Corner says as he moves some dirty plates to the kitchen.

Draco Malfoy has taken a liking in coming to her bistro every now and then with a pureblood slag on his arms. It's rather tiring in her opinion, but Draco loves them. Though Draco loves anything with a chest and a bum nowadays. She growls as she watched the girl of the week sit on his lap and nip at his neck, while he's caressing her bum in a very provoking way. A way which is fine in the bedroom, but in no way in a bistro, which children running around.

She strides over to the pair and coughs to announce her presence. Draco looks up, a wicked smile on his face. She wonders who this slag is. Last week it was Daphne Greengrass, before that Millicent Bulstrode, and before Millicent there was Marietta Edgecombe.

"Hey, Granger," he says smiling, while the girl is still nipping at his neck. "Can I get a firewhiskey and a butterbeer for the lady?"

"Sure," she replies and quickly leaves to get his order.

She hates this Draco. The Draco that brings a slag to her bistro and almost fucks her in everyone's presence. She knows her co-workers talk about Draco. Maybe about her and Draco. She once overheard one of the girls say that she was probably sleeping with Draco. She knows everyone hates him too, especially Michael Corner. Not that she cares about Michael Corner, he's okay. Still calls her Herms. She wonders when he will stop, probably never. When Draco feels like annoying her he calls her Herms. She hates Herms and still thinks it sounds like a disease. A STD or something close to that.

She brings the drinks to Draco's table. The girl finally looks up and is shocked to find out it's Susan Bones. Poor girl has fallen into the arms of Draco Malfoy and will be dumped in a day or two. She remembers how Draco told her he would never shag a Hufflepuff and if she wasn't mistaken, Susan Bones was a Hufflepuff. She wanted to call him out, but didn't.

"Join us, Granger!"

"I'm working, Draco."

"So? I will pay for your drink. Get yourself some Butterbeer and join me and Sue."

"I said no, Malfoy!" she replies huffing. He knows she isn't allowed to sit or hang around when she is working. If her boss would come in now, he'd fire her for even talking to him. It's busy and she doesn't want to drink something with Draco and 'Sue'.

"Fine, spoil sport. Be that way. Sue and I will be going then."

"You haven't even drank something from your drinks!"

Draco whispers something in Susan's ear. The girl nods and then heads for the door. Hermione looks at Draco with a raised eyebrow. He walks up to her and gives her a hug.

"How much was it?" he whispers.

Hermione sighs and lays her head on his shoulder. She inhales his scent. She likes him like this. Soft and sweet Draco, who'll hold her when she's tired or sad. Who will make her laugh when she's down. She doesn't like the Draco who's bringing slags into her bistro and fucks them right there too. She hates that Draco that drinks litres of Ogden's Finest a day.

"Two galleons."

He puts a pouch in her hand. "This should cover it."

"Are you mad? That's more than two galleons!" she replies.

"It's a tip."

Then Hermione gets angry, because she loathes this Draco. The arse that throws around money and feels the need to give her money too. Ickle Hermione is so poor and has no money, let's tip her. He could choke in his money for all she cared. How dare he give her money, like she was some common slag? She doesn't need his money.

"Bugger off, Malfoy and keep your bloody tip," she screeches and literally pushes him out of the bistro. "Merry Christmas, you arse!"

24th of December, 2005 - Hermione Granger's cottage, England

There are many things Hermione Granger has to do today. One of them is cleaning her house. It's one day before Christmas and like every year she will be celebrating the festive at The Burrow. Even though things between her and Ron have been over for a while, Molly still adores her and tells her that every chance she gets. It seems that Molly just can't accept the fact that Hermione and Ron will never get back together.

She is excited to spend some time with The Weasleys though, she never really sees them. She barely even sees Harry who used to be her best friend. Her two old best friends decided to neglect her, because life goes on. Harry had to marry the girl he had been waiting so long to marry. And she and Ron, they never really were compatible. Then she found Draco Malfoy, the light in the dark tunnel. She adored him. Her best friend. Her too snarky best friend, who is going to Greece in a few hours with Pansy.

Hermione just finishes piling up some old books when she hears Ron's voice calling from the Floo. She puts them down on the table and runs to the living room.

"Ron! Something wrong?"

"No," he murmured. "Just... Hermione, do you remember Ivy?"

No, she does not. How in the world can she when she barely talks to Ron. Especially about the girls he's dating.

"Yes, Ivy. You mentioned her once or twice."

"She's coming tomorrow."

"Okay."

"No, you don't understand. If she comes, I'm afraid, 'Mione, that you can't. Ivy just isn't comfortable with you, my ex-girlfriend , being there too."

It always has irked her how he keeps calling her 'Mione. Hermione isn't that hard to pronounce. It's just one extra sodding syllable, but Ron Weasley had always been a lazy arse. Even when it came to pronouncing her name correctly.

"I- okay," she sighed in defeat. "Just tell Molly will you, that I'm not coming."

"Can you please tell her? She'll loathe Ivy if she knows you're not coming because Ivy doesn't want you there. You know how mum is. She just simply adores you."

"You tell her, Ronald. I'm not going to hurt Molly like that," and with that she stands up and slumps to the Cheshire chair.

Today's just great. First Draco and her were going to spend the day together, having a pre-Christmas party with the two of them. She was looking forward to that until Pansy had surprised him with tickets to bloody Greece. Who even goes to Greece in December? Hermione considers snow to be one of the best things in December. And ice skating, she had actually planned to take Draco today. Draco hates anything Muggle, but Hermione had thought he would've liked it. She won't know soon though, since Draco will be away for about two or three weeks. Whatever he and Pansy fancy.

Hermione does not understand what Draco sees in Pansy. Back in the days, when they were still in Hogwarts the girl had always seemed too clingy. Draco didn't seem to like it then, since he always wore that horrible expression on his face. The one where he looked like he was about to vomit. But Pansy and Draco have been together for about five months now, which honestly is a record for Draco. He seemstruly happy though, so Hermione isn't going to stop him from going on a romantic trip with his loving, but a bit too clingy girlfriend. Who may she add, also has a sort of pug face. Pug face Pansy, oh yes, she likes that.

An owl puts a halt on her train of thoughts. She quickly opens the window and unties the note from what seems to be Draco's owl.

"Thank you for bringing it, Beatle," she said and gives him a treat. Hermione quickly unrolls the note with a very surprising message from her dear friend.

Dear Granger,
I know you're going to the Weasels tomorrow, but if you'd like to skip that (which I understand, since it's bloody awful there. Would you like to join me on a lovely trip to Greece? Pansy caught the flu and said she looked horrid when she was having it so suggested that I should go and take you. I thought it was a marvellous idea, so join me Granger!
- Draco

The offer is very tempting. And maybe she should go. Maybe she'll love it. She always had been very interested in Greek gods and though she'd miss the snow and possibly New Year's eve. She needs it though and she's so pale, so maybe Greece really is a good idea. Hermione finds herself a pen and a piece of paper and quickly scribbles her friend a reply. She ties the note to Beatle's leg and gives him a treat before he flies away.

24th of December, 2006 - Wiltshire, England:

Draco Malfoy is reeking of alcohol when he enters his manor. He swears at himself, this isn't how it's supposed to go.

His father greets him. His eyes stare at him suspiciously. Maybe he notices that Draco is drunk, stupidly sodding drunk. His father looks old. He looks pathetic and tired, and Draco can't help but feel not sorry for him. The old man deserves it. He deserves walking with that awful cane and he deserves to walk around like a ghost. Then he wonders how the hell he must look. Probably stupid, reeking of alcohol, and Lucius must be disappointed in him. Somehow, Draco feels joy in that.

"Your mother is in the study. She has been waiting for you all morning."

"How is she?" he asks. Perhaps his father will say 'much better'.

"Go and see. I'll have a house elf put the kettle on."

Draco nods at his father and enters the study where his mother is sitting in front of it, staring absentmindedly.

"Draco, darling," she smiles.

He approaches his mother and kisses her on the cheek. She looks tired, even worse than the last time. Her cheek is taut and she looks skinny. He remembers how beautiful his mother used to be. When he was younger he used to tell her over and over how he'd find a wife when he was older, just as beautiful as she was. Now she's skinny and she looks tired and pale. A headband is tied around her head to hide her hair loss and fuck, if Draco wasn't this drunk he'd tell her how beautiful she looks, but the words 'you look horrible' or on his tongue, so instead, he bites the insides of his mouth to stop himself from exclaiming it.

"You're sweating."

"It's hot today," he replies as he tries to sit on the chair on the opposite side of his mother's. It's hard and it takes him awhile to sit down.

"It's December, Draco."

He laughs awkwardly, because it is December and it's bloody snowing outside. He wonders why he's soaked in sweat. She looks at him, confused. He forces himself to focus; he doesn't want to disappoint his mother.

"I have a present for you," he then says, keen on changing the subject. Before his mother notices he's stupidly drunk.

"Thank you, Draco!" she says, smiling.

"It's not from me, from Granger."

His mother frowns, but then puts up a smile. It's almost Christmas and he hasn't even brought his mother a present, while Granger has. While his mother used to hate Granger! He should've lied. Should've told her the present was his, so she'd smile.

"Books. How lovely."

"That's Granger."

"You're ought to call her Hermione."

"But her name is Granger."

His mother looks at him oddly and then turns away from him, preferring the view of the window over him. The view is better though, he has to admit. The view doesn't smell like Firewhiskey.

"Are you staying for the night? Tomorrow being Christmas..." his mother asks.

He could stay for the night, he thinks. It would make his mother happy, maybe that old sod of his father too. Maybe he could spend some time with his mother, before it's too late.

"Actually, no," he replies. "I'm taking Granger tonight to see a play. She loves plays and I kind of promised her. I'd skip it, but she really wants to go."

She nods, her head bopping tiredly up and down with a disappointed look on her face. He feels guilty, then, but being back in this house isn't something he wants.

"Draco, you'll have to excuse me, but I'm quite tired. Could you maybe help me upstairs?"

"Sure," he replies. "Should I call a house elf?"

His mother shakes her head. "I'm afraid I can't Apparate."

"Okay... Do you want me to...?"

He curses at himself for agreeing. With a pained expression on his face, he lifts his mother from the chair. Together they slowly walk towards the stairs.

"Draco, darling, I need you to help me up the stairs," she says. "I'm not heavy, not with everything going on."

He lifts her then, in his arms. She's not too heavy and he's blessing himself with the fact that he has done so much Quidditch. He takes the first step on the stairs, he feels his mother's hot breath against his neck and he's scared of looking at her. Undoubtedly she'll look weak.

Somehow he bumps her shoulder against the stair post. He feels his mother wince in his arms and he curses himself again, because he keeps fucking up. He can't even go up the stairs and help his mother. His ill mother.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs as he readjusts his mother in his arms and carefully climbs the stairs.

He finally reaches his mother's bedroom. He kicks open the door to the room and lays her on the bed. He kisses his mother on the forehead and turns to go downstairs, and possibly, hopefully leave.

"Thank Hermione for the presents, dear."

"Hermione?"

"You're going to see her tonight, aren't you?"

"Oh yes," he replies and closes the door behind. He descents the stairs and meets his father.

"Draco, if you ever come and see your mother in this state again, I will not let you in. I won't let you go through our door. I will close that door in your face. Do you understand me?"

He nods and then Apparates away from the Manor, not bothering to say goodbye to his father.

Hey, Granger... I got tickets for that play you really want to see. You there? Pick up if you are! Do you want to join me? I know you're going out with that tosser of a Corner tonight, but maybe you could cancel that and hang out with me? Just for old times' sake. You've been busy, I've been busy. Christmas is nearing, going to a play seems great. Just, if you're there, please pick up, okay... No? Well, if you hear this and it's not too late, just call me okay? Love you.

Hermione wants to cancel her date with Michael Corner so bad, but she simply can't. So with another look at the answering machine she leaves the house. It's her fourth date with Corner. The first three have failed miserably. He is nice enough, but he's just not it for her. He's been trying to court her for two years now though, so it's okay. She'll go out with him; maybe this will be the last time. Maybe he cancels, so she can go to Draco.

The restaurant he chose this time isn't that bad. No palm trees like last time, or awful seventies music playing on the background. No, this restaurant was quite extravagant for Michael's standard. He knows how much she hates those lousy eating cafés. She enjoys this more.

She's twenty minutes late, but Corner still is there. She had argued with herself for twenty minutes whether she should cancel on Michael or not, but in the end she chose the date. She enters the restaurant and Michael greets her with a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"You look marvellous," he says as his eyes stop for a second at her breasts.

"Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself," she replies and it's true. He is for the first time not wearing a t-shirt with an awful print. Instead, he's wearing a plain white T-Shirt and a black vest over it.

Hey Granger. I guess you're saying no to the play tickets. The play sucked anyways. Are you home already? If you are, please pick up okay... Fuck, I just tripped over a chair. Bloody chair isn't even supposed to fucking be here! Just, fuck me, call me when you're home okay? My wards are down for you, so you can come too. Love you.

"So I sat there with Cor, you know Cormac McLaggen and this thing with two wheels and a person just heads our way and we're bloody drunk. Had too much Firewhiskey, and we're screaming! Fuck, Herms, if you could see us then. We looked like nine year olds!" Michael says and roars out in laughter.

She coughs out an awkward laugh and she has no idea what to do. The past hour he has been trying to entertain her with 'lovely' stories of his mates 'Cor', 'Bran' and 'Nate'.

"It was bloody mental, Herms! Cor's a maniac!"

"I get it, Michael."

"You would love my mates. The lot of us should get some drinks sometime. Maybe you can bring some of your lady friends too."

"Maybe."

He smiles. That creepy grin, that makes her shiver. He just keeps on rattling about stuff that she doesn't care for. It's giving her a headache and Hermione feels incredibly sorry for herself.

"Hey, Michael?"

He doesn't seem to listen as he continues rattling on. "If you could see them, Herms! They looked like bloody monkeys. You would've loved it, I swear."

"Michael..."

Fuck Granger, where in Merlin's name are you? Are you still with that tosser? My bottle of Firewhiskey is empty. Please, tell me you're not still with that tosser? It's ten for fuck's sakes.

Mum thanks you for those books, by the way. She's doing fine... Who am I even kidding? She's doing bloody awful. She looks like a ghost and I hurt her. I'm a mess, Granger. Just come home will you?

"Will you please shut up for a second?" she roars.

He looks at her, shocked. The knife and fork drop with a hard clank on his plate. She covers her mouth in shock. She never is one to just drop something so impolite.

"I'm sorry, listen, Michael, I just - I don't care about your friends. I know McLaggen. I don't like him. I am here to talk to you, hear about you and not about what a mess Cormac made in Hogwarts."

"It's fine," he says, and continues eating again.

It's silent then. And Merlin, Hermione feels so sorry for telling him that he has to shut up. He tried so hard this time. He wore some clothes he knew she would like. He picked out a posh restaurant which she is more comfortable with, but it's not enough. He knows this, but yet he still tries so hard. She knows he has been in love with her for so long and though she thinks Corner is a nice enough bloke, she doesn't return those feelings.

Later that evening he Apparates her home. They stand in front of her door. She tells him she had a nice time.

"I had too," he replies as he raises his hand touches her cheek softly. He smiles then, not the creepy grin, but a fine smile.

He's going to kiss her, Hermione then realises. And this time she lets him, because he has put so much effort in making her happy. And even though he's an awful and sloppy kisser, she lets him, and maybe, just maybe she will love him in return someday.