Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, one- I would not be here writing about it, and two- I would not have included the epilogue to completely screw up people's dreams of DMHG.
Setting: After Hogwarts and the war.
Summary: What might have happened after the war, if Draco and Hermione had chanced to meet. The epilogue in the 7th book is completely disregarded, and the characters are a bit OC.
Chapter 1: Ancient History
It was a bright sunny Friday, and Hermione decided that she might as well walk home from work and try to enjoy the weather. The road to her flat from the library took only about fifteen minutes to walk anyways, she thought, and now I can make plans for this evening. Her train of thought came to an abrupt halt, because absolutely no one will be there waiting for me. Her mind wandered over the past months she had spend with Ron, and then through the last couple of days she had spent alone.
She did not regret breaking off their relationship, she knew she could never find happiness through it; but she did regret giving him so much hope and time, and then crushing his dreams. While she was the center of his world, she had made herself believe that something good could come of it. Then of course the silver lining fades, and life gets in the way. Ron seemed to have less and less time for her, not because he cared any less, but because he grew complacent. The distance grew; she stopped trying as hard, and eventually realized that they would never work. He was like her brother. That was all. Of course, he had had other ideas and refused to accept anything less. Since that fateful night three days ago, neither had spoken a word to each other. Harry tried to help, but he took Ron's side (Hermione blamed the whole 'best mates for life' thing), he claimed that she did not give it enough time. Ginny was there too, but she was also obliged to help her brother out, talk to Harry (to whom she was engaged), and juggle a new job. All of these other responsibilities meant that, although she had good intentions, she had barely listened to Hermione for thirty minutes before rushing to a meeting with her new boss.
Before she knew it, Hermione arrived at her home. She trudged into the kitchen and looked around thinking, I could make spaghetti, Ron's favorite, umm… or I could make pizza, but I won't eat a whole one… what about… oh forget it… she gave up. This little problem was the final straw, and she was soon in bed, curled up with her favorite book.
The next morning, after a dreamless sleep, she awoke to her stomach growling, reminding her of her skipped meal. She quickly showered and changed and hurried to the kitchen. Having decided to make a harmless egg, she got out a frying pan and put some bread in the toaster. Right before she turned on the stove (she still cooked the muggle way out of habit and comfort), Harry apparated into her flat.
"It's polite to knock," she snapped, not in the mood to be told how to mend her broken relationship.
"I thought friends were always welcome," Harry responded a bit harshly, but she only bit back,
"Only when they act like friends." Their conversation quickly matured into a heated argument leading to Hermione apparating away from any further dispute. It was Saturday and she had weekends off, so she went to the first place she could think of, Diagon Alley. Although never really prone to drinking, she went to the Leaky Cauldron in hopes of escaping. She ordered some fire whiskey, disregarding the hour of day, figuring that one bottle would not hurt a bit. The door creaked open, and her eyes ventured around the room, falling on a certain blonde figure that had a very distinct part in her past. Draco apparently did not notice her and walked right up to the bar next to her to order his own fire whiskey. Soon he noticed her staring at him, and he glanced at her with weary eyes and stated,
"Never expected you to be one to drink, Granger."
She answered a bit unsteadily at first, "Well, I would have thought that you would never go near a public bar." Then she said, glaring, "It's filled with so many mudbloods."
"Look Granger," He practically shouted, "if you want to drag up ancient history, be my guest, but this is all on you!"
"Ancient history?!" She fired back, "The war ended less than a year ago, with you on the opposing side! Since when is that ancient history!"
Regret flickered across his face, but Hermione did not see it, then he said venomously, "Of course, since we all had a choice in which side we fought with!" He added, "Not that you would ever try to see someone else's side of things, when yours is always right!" This last statement struck a little too close to home with the arguments she had had with Ron through Harry. Her hunger, emotions, and stress all seemed to crash down on her at once. Suddenly she felt lightheaded, then spots of black clouded her vision. She tried to say something, but immediately fell into a blissful state of oblivion.