Disclaimer: As usual, nothing you recognize belongs to me. I'm just borrowing them to play for a while.

Blaise yawned as he walked into the kitchen to start the coffee maker, tiredly rubbing the back of his neck. He was just reaching into a cupboard to grab a mug when he heard the faint sound of the fireplace activating and someone stepping into the townhouse, signaling the arrival of someone via floo. Unconcerned, he leaned back on the counter to wait for the coffee to finish brewing, knowing that anyone able to enter uninvited had been keyed into the wards.

"Blaise!" came the shout from the sitting room. "Dammit Zabini, are you home?"

The tall Italian wizard started at the voice in incredulity and walked out of the kitchen. "Malfoy? What are you doing here, at," he checked the clock on the mantle, "seven in the morning? I thought you were in France."

"Obviously not." He strode into the kitchen, leaving Blaise standing bemused before the fireplace. "Is that coffee I smell?" he called over his shoulder.

"Of course, you know I always have coffee in the morning. Keep it down, would you?"

"Why? You're clearly already awake." Suddenly the blond smirked, noting the second cup that his friend had placed on the granite counter. "Have company, do you?"

Blaise sighed. "Something like that. Not what you think, though."

"Mmm hm. Sure it's not."

"No, really, it's not –"

"Whatever mate," Draco said, waving him off. "Not like I care about your conquests. I just thought I'd let you know I'm moving back to England this week."

"You're – what?" Blaise shook his head a little, the previous subject temporarily forgotten. "When was this decided? I thought you had planned to stay in Bordeaux."

"No, mother planned to stay there. I was never a huge fan of the idea, but I wasn't about to leave mother alone after the war." He faltered, remembering the state Narcissa had been in after his father's death. "Anyway, I'm staying at the manor for now, but I thought I'd let you know what was going on."

"At seven in the morning? After no contact with wizarding Britain for three years?"

"Merlin, has it really been so long?" Draco pondered.

"I think Pansy was the last of us to hear from you, and that was only you RSVPing no for her wedding."

"Ah," he winced. "Did she take it badly?"

"You know Pans. She ranted about hexing you for a day or two, then got caught up in a wedding crisis and forgot about you. Something about ribbons for the bouquets, I think."

"Ribbons?"

"Who knows," Blaise said wryly as he poured coffee into his mug. "In any case, you're coming back?"

"Yes, now that things have settled. Mother is doing much better, especially now that she has re-established herself in the social circles there, and I finally found a competent manager for the French branch of Malfoy Holdings." Draco grabbed another mug from the cabinet and poured coffee for himself. "I thought it was time to come back."

"You're staying, then?" Blaise asked, staring at the blond as he sipped his coffee. "Permanently, I mean."

Draco nodded. "It'll be good to be home," he mused. "France is fine, but I never felt like I belonged there, even when I was amongst family. I grew up here, all my friends are here. I suppose I just wanted to be back where everything is familiar."

"Not everything is going to be familiar," Blaise muttered, frowning slightly.

Draco shot him a curious look. "What?"

"Look," sighed the Italian wizard, putting down his cup of coffee. "You've been away for a long time, and haven't kept in touch. A lot of things have changed since you left."

"Well, I left right after the end of a war. I hardly expected things to be in the same state when I returned."

"That's not what I mean." Blaise ran a hand through his dark curls and glanced towards the marble stairs that led to the upper floors of the townhome. "I'm not talking about society in general, although of course the wizarding world has changed since the end of the war. What I meant is that people have changed, things aren't the same as you might expect."

"Okay. . ." Draco furrowed his brow, not sure what his old friend was getting at. He was about to ask him to explain, when a sleepy feminine voice called down from the direction of the stairs.

"Blaise? Are you down here?"

Draco smirked as a slender woman made her way down the steps, apparently clad in only a men's oxford shirt that reached to mid thigh, her face obscured by her hand raking back her brunette curls. He turned briefly to waggle his eyebrows at Blaise, whose posture had tensed at the sound of the woman's voice. He turned back towards the woman, surprised when he heard her say his name, and nearly dropped his cup of coffee when he got a clear look at her.

"Malfoy?"

"Granger?" he choked out.

He stared at her in shock, absently wondering when the schoolgirl he remembered had transformed into the woman before him. It was only when Blaise stepped forward and snapped his fingers in front of his face that Draco managed to school his features into a neutral mask.

Blaise laughed as his friend pulled his gaze away from Hermione, who was currently fidgeting with the shirt she wore even though it covered more of her legs than some skirts would. "You still in there, Malfoy?"

"Of course," he snapped, his irritation at being caught off guard coming through in his next words. "So, Granger was your conquest? I didn't realize you had lowered your standards that much, Zabini."

If Draco had been paying closer attention, he would have noticed Hermione flinch at his comment. As it was he was only aware of Blaise narrowing his eyes, the smile dropping off his face as he moved to stand beside the former Head Girl to wrap an arm around her protectively. "You don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy. I advise you not to say anything else on the matter," he said, his voice dangerously calm.

"What is this?" Draco exclaimed. "I leave for a few years and you start consorting with mudbloods?"

Hermione glared at him. "Haven't you anything better to do than be offensive first thing in the morning?" She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, tugging at the bottom of the shirt again as Blaise drew her closer to her side.

"He doesn't mean it, cara," he assured her, looking at Draco pointedly. "Do you?"

Truthfully, he didn't mean it, using the term from careless force of habit rather than any actual intention to insult her. They had come to a truce of sorts during their seventh year at Hogwarts when she and Blaise had been co-Heads sharing a dorm. Draco had visited their common room frequently to hang out with Blaise, which by extension meant that he spent a lot of time around Hermione. After a month of putting up with their fighting, usually instigated by Draco, Blaise had grown exasperated and threatened to throw him out. The two enemies grudgingly agreed to be civil to each other, but they never truly became friends.

"No, I suppose I don't," he admitted reluctantly. "But I do confess I am astonished to find you here, Granger. Can't blame you for moving on from the Weasel, though I daresay Blaise here is as much out of your league as you were out of the Weasel's. Any Slytherin would be, really."

This time Draco did catch her sharp intake of breath at his words, her posture instantly stiffening, though she said nothing. This reaction puzzled him. He had come to expect a verbal rally whenever he made such barbed comments, and for some reason her quiet acceptance of his words did not sit well with him.

Blaise leveled a hard look at him before speaking to the witch at his side. "Mia," he said softly. "You know that's not true. We've talked about this. You shouldn't feel like this anymore."

Draco was flabbergasted when her brown eyes, always so expressive, slowly filled with tears. After years of tormenting her in school, calling her filthy names and taunting her friends, this was what reduced her to crying?

Blaise sighed and gathered her into his embrace, allowing her to duck her head into his chest. Draco looked on in confusion as his friend soothed her, holding her gently and rubbing her back with one hand. After several minutes of quiet crying, Hermione's sobs subsided, and she pulled back slightly, wiping her eyes. "I'm going to go back upstairs," she murmured. Blaise nodded and kissed her forehead before letting her go, watching as she made her way to the curving staircase, never looking back at Draco.

Silence reigned for a few moments before Draco was no longer able to hold his tongue. "What on earth was that about?" he demanded. "I've never known Granger to be so weepy."

Blaise closed his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You never did know when to keep your mouth shut. I told you mate, things have changed." He held up a hand to forestall the question he knew was coming. "Not now. You can stay if you want, help yourself to food or more coffee, but right now I need to go make sure Mia is okay."

And with that, he too retreated up the stairs. A bewildered Draco was left gaping after him, wondering what exactly had just happened.