Painting. That is what Hermione had brilliantly come up with to cure her sense of growing loneliness.

She sat behind the easel with brush in hand, contemplating what to do next. The trees looked like a child's art project and the sky looked like a grey haze of nothing. She just couldn't get the hang of it, no matter how many painting guides and manuals she read. Her mother had often painted when she was feeling emotional turmoil, but Hermione had always admired the beautiful masterpieces from afar, behind her books.

Her mother was the artist of the family- that much was clear. Painting was not meant to be her medium, but Hermione was slowly starting to learn something: The brush was not her friend, and the canvas was not her companion. She was alone, and no matter how many hours she spent behind the easel, that would not change.

"Hey Hermione, are you going to the gala at the Malfoy Manor tonight?"

Startled, Hermione turned around to see Abby standing behind her, wide eyed and hopeful. Hermione knew what this was about: ever since she started working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Abby would gush about how cool it must have been to know Harry Potter and that "sexy" Ron Weasley. She was guessing that Abby wanted her to introduce her to Ron, not knowing of their... awkward history.

"Sorry Abby, I think I'm going to go back to my flat and work on some paperwork. Thanks though."

Abby frowned. "Hermione, that is all you ever do, and how often do you think rich prats throw parties for Ministry employees? Even Jessica is going, and she probably hasn't seen the light of day in years."

She considered this. There were quite a bit of Ministry employees, so the likely-hood of running into Draco was small. She had seen him around Diagon Alley since the war ended, but she hadn't actually spoken to him since... well, that night in the Leaky Cauldron.

But even if she did go and happen to see him, it wasn't as if she was going to get in line to talk to the host.

"C'mon. Maybe you could even introduce me to your friends? And by friends, I mean Ron."

Hermione laughed. "Okay, i'm in."

"I shouldn't have come." Hermione looked around nervously at the swarm of people walking up the steps into the Manor.

"Oh, don't be melodramatic. You look great and I look great and- wait, isn't that Harry?"

Abby pointed over towards the entrance where, lo and behold, Harry and Ginny stood arm and arm, chatting with Kingsley.

Hermione smiled. She hadn't seen them in months. Truth be told, she hadn't really kept in touch with Ron or Harry. After she decided to go back to school to finish out her last year, they went on to work for the Ministry when they were offered positions as Aurors. She was too offered a position, but she decided to turn it down. She wanted to finish school and do things right.

So, while she continued her studies, Harry and Ron grew closer than ever doing what they loved best. Hermione wasn't mad or upset over this, but regretful if anything. She missed them, but she was doing her own thing now. She was content. Lonely nevertheless, but she kept telling herself that it was okay. She was a grown witch now. She could handle it.

Hermione rushed over to where her friends stood. "Harry!"

Harry turned around and a wide grin spread across his face. He met Hermione half way and she threw herself into his arms.

"I've missed you, Chosen One."

Harry laughed and untangled himself from their embrace. "I haven't seen you in what seems like forever! How have you been? How are things in Magical Creatures?"

Hermione smiled. "Oh, you know. Lots of paperwork. Nothing exciting like what you and Ron are doing." Hermione looked over her shoulder to see Abby standing meekly, waiting to be introduced. "Harry, this is Abby. She works in the same department as I do. "

"So your taking good care of Hermione then, yea?" Hermione spun around to see Ron grinning behind her, cross armed.

"Ron!" He held out his arms for a hug and she squeezed him tight.

"You nagging has been lacking in my life, 'Mione. What do you have to say for yourself?"

She laughed. "Oh, stop it." Remembering Abby, she turned and presented her. "Ron, this is my friend Abby."

Abby blushed and stepped forward, extending her arm for a hand shake. "Hello, i'm Abby." Ron ignored her hand and pulled her in for a hug.

"A friend of 'Mione's is a friend of mine, right Harry?" Harry and Hermione shared a knowing look. There went Ron again, flirting with anything he could possibly get his hands on.

Ginny cleared her throat. "Lets go in, shall we? I've always wanted to go to this arseholes house."

Harry looked at her confused. "Why?"

Ginny shrugged. "To accidentally tip over an expensive vase or two."

Harry laughed and shook his head. "I should have guessed."

As they all walked in, they marveled at how truly beautiful the Malfoy Manor was. It had an icy elegance with twinkling lights hanging from the high ceiling that could have only been achieved with magic. The tile floor in the ballroom sparkled and the deep grey walls were laden with decorations. It wasn't warm or inviting, but rather something along the lines of art, and art needed not to make you feel safe or comfortable. It needed to make you feel off balance, like looking at that piece of art changed everything about anything you ever knew. It truly was a sight to behold.

Abby tittered with excitement. "This is amazing! This reminds me of the Yule ball, only much much better." Ron readily agreed with her (to nobodies surprise), but Hermione stayed silent. She was scoping the room for the very person she was avoiding. Her group of friends continued to chat, but Hermione tuned them out as she scanned each person with a head of white-blonde hair.

"Hermione? Hello?" Hermione turned back around to Abby's bewildered face. "You okay?"

Hermione nodded. "Yea, just zoned out for a second. Whats up?"

Ron interjected before Abby could say a word. "Well I was going to take Abby to get something to drink."

"And I think Harry and I are going to join them. Do you want to come along?" Ginny gave Hermione as inviting of a look as she could muster. Hermione smiled and shook her head.

"I think i'm okay, you all go ahead. I'll meet up with you guys later."

The group said their temporary goodbyes and Hermione returned to keeping her eyes out for Draco. A few Ministry employees that recognized her came up to her to chat, but they could tell that she was preoccupied and ended up leaving her be. After awhile though, Hermione settled into a more comfortable state- she hadn't seen Draco all night. She was in the clear.

Walking around a bit, Hermione kept her eyes peeled for Harry, Ron, Ginny, or even Abby, but since the house was so large and crowded, she found little luck. Starting to feel like an outcast, she returned to her original thought when she first arrived: She shouldn't have come.

She wandered around a bit and found herself distant from the party, following a dark hallway that led deeper into the house. Some of the doors were open, and some were closed. None of them looked particularly interesting though, until she passed by a room that had its door slightly cracked. She looked behind her shoulder and peeked inside.

Inside was a gallery/workplace of some sort. There were painting of all different colours and sizes hanging from the walls, leaning against the window, lying on the floor, etc. In the middle of the room was what she was guessing was an easel standing under a canvas sheet. She hesitantly stepped inside and walked over to the sheet, curious to see what was under it.

As she grabbed the sheet, a voice came from behind her.

"Enjoying yourself, Granger?" Hermione spun around, half startled out of her skin. Draco stood against the doorway, smirking and dressed inexplicably well. It bothered her that she noticed everything about him, down to the minute change in his hair. It wasn't slicked back, but rather loosely swept to the side.

She put a hand to her heart. "God, it's just you."

Draco snorted and hypnotically swished the drink in the crystal glass cup he was holding. "That is no way to treat your host."

Hermione stiffened her back held held her nose high. "And that is no way to treat your guest."

"Well my guests aren't supposed to be snooping throughout closed off areas of the house, now are they?"

Hermione scoffed. "It wasn't exactly closed off. The door was open." She looked at him, waiting for a response. When he continued to return her gaze without an answer, she looked away and around the room. "What i'm curious about is why you threw this party in the first place. It isn't as if you actually care about the efforts to clean up the damage of the war. Why throw a party and use that excuse?"

Draco took a step forward; a slow meander till he was but a foot from Hermione. She held her ground.

"This what people with power and wealth do Granger." She stood silent, waiting for more explanation. Draco rolled his eyes and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "We throw parties for other people with wealth and power. Not that you would know anything about that, though."

"Yes, but why-"

"All you need to know is that I would like to be on the Ministry good side. This is what I know how to do."

Draco took a swig of the auburn coloured drink from his glass. "And I do it well, don't you agree?" he smirked at her.

At the increasingly close proximity they were at, she could smell the fire whiskey on his breath. Flashbacks from that night in the Leaky Cauldron came rushing back and she shuttered. This was the reason she didn't want to come to the party in the first place.

Hermione shrugged Draco off and went to walk out of the room without so much as a goodbye.

"Granger?"

Hermione sighed, closing her eyes and stopping in her tracks. "Yea?"

Draco cleared his throat. "Out of all the rooms you could have snooped in, why this one?" Hermione hesitantly turned around and shrugged. "It looked interesting. I was curious."

Draco gave her a charming, sardonic smile. "Well do me a favour and try not to get curious about any of my other rooms. I know you Gryffindors do love shoving your noses in everything, but I highly suggest you repress the urge. The rest of my home is off limits... especially to the glorious Golden Trio."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to get in a last minute insult to make him feel superior, even though their encounter was far from an argument. "Don't worry Malfoy. I think i'll be going home now anyways."

Before she turned, she caught a glimpse of him holding out his empty glass in a mocking salute-like manner. "Don't let the floo powder stain that pretty dress of yours on the way out. I would hate to see you tarnished more than you already are."

Hermione's hand instinctively went rub the now scarred markings on her forearm that Bellatrix gifted her with, but she put it down the second she realized what she was doing. She hoped that Draco had not noticed, but upon looking up at him, she could tell he had from the interested look he gave her and her forearm.

In a flash of anger, Hermione marched over towards Draco and grabbed his tie, yanking him down to her level. She did not know where this irrational burst of anger had come from- she thought she did not care about blood purity comments anymore, but his words had such an effect it scared her. Flashbacks from years ago when she punched him in the face arose in her mind, almost making her laugh.

Almost.

"I see time has not changed your pathetic attitude."

Draco smirked in attempts to look in control, but she could see the sadness in his eyes. "On the contrary love. I've changed in more ways than you could even know. You especially should know that."

Hermione's eyes widened. She had not expected him to actually bring it up. She expected him to pretend that night in the Leaky Cauldron had never happened, just as she was trying to do.

In a flush of embarrassment and anger and sadness and about a million other emotions Hermione could not describe, she spun away and huffed out of the room.

She had to get out of there.

The next day Hermione came into the office late for the first time. She had trouble falling asleep and when she finally did, she slept straight through all 3 of her alarms.

Throwing her bag down on her desk, she sank into her chair and took a sip of her tea. It was her first moment of relaxation for the day. Or so she thought, until Abby came skipping over.

"Hermione! There you are!" Hermione mustered a smile and sat her tea down.

"Hey, how was the party?"

Abby leaned against Hermione's desk and gushed about her fantastic night. "It was wonderful, and Ron was the perfect gentleman, and we are going out for lunch today! Thank you so much for introducing us by the way."

"No problem, it was my pleasure."

Abby frowned. "Speaking of the party, where were you? We tried looking for you but couldn't find you anywhere."

Hermione shrugged. "I was tired so I left early. Nothing big."

"Ah, I see. Oh! By the way, something came for you. Here, I kept it at my desk for safekeeping." Abby went over to her desk to retrieve the package and came running back moments later, hands full with a large package.

What could the package be? Hermione did not remember ordering any packages, and she couldn't think of anyone that would send her random gifts when it wasn't a holiday or her birthday. So, out of curiosity, she opened the box right then and to her surprise found an exquisite painting. It was of a dark forest with white trees and a lone white figure, looking up at the stars. It was simply beautiful, and with it came a note.

"Remember next time that curiosity killed that cat."

It was left unsigned, but she had a feeling that she knew exactly what it was: the painting under the canvas sheet. He gave her the bloody painting that she was trying to snoop at.

Hermione groaned. Things had just become 100x's more complicated.

"Oh my god, that's beautiful! Who is it from?" Abby gasped, startling Hermione. She had forgotten she was there.

That was a good question though: Who was it from? A friend? She could hardly call Draco a friend. An enemy? They weren't quite that either. The only thing she could come up with was a sympathizer. Somebody who understood something about her on a deeper level (whatever that meant.)

Abby gave her a suggestive look. "Well?"

Hermione shrugged. "Oh, nobody really."

Nobody for now, at least.