Part II: Requite

Ron was at Quidditch practice when Hermione summoned everything she owned into a trunk and Disapparated for Hogsmeade. He'd come home to an empty apartment; Hermione didn't care to leave him a letter. She hadn't a clue what to say. She didn't want to say anything.

A sack of Galleons and her notoriety secured Hermione a flat above Scrivenshaft's within an hour. She tossed cleaning spells around and half-heartedly transfigured furniture until the place felt cozy. She jumped when an owl tapped on her window. It was Harry's barn owl, Wendelin.

"Hey, genius. In case you've forgotten, you're expecting Draco bloody Malfoy at 7."

Hermione smiled at Harry's teasing message. Yes, she was expecting Draco bloody Malfoy, indeed. Nothing in existence would pierce Ron's soul like seeing her on the arm of Draco Malfoy.

Steeping in the petty joy of causing Ron as much pain as he'd caused her, she bathed and dressed for the evening's event.

When Draco arrived, Hermione was hidden behind a wall of grief. She made small talk with the wizard and smiled when she should. They took the invitation-turned-Portkey to the party.

The stadium-sized tent glowed with white light in the forest; happy chatter and the clink of glasses emanated from within. Draco led Hermione to the queue and they waited their turn to enter, in silence.

Inside, Hermione searched the crowd for a particular face. Her gaze fixed on each ginger and dismissed them. She reasoned it would take Ron some time to comprehend the flat empty of her belongings and contact Harry.

"Would you like something to drink?"

Hermione shook her head; "Let's dance." Draco Malfoy was known to dance well; of course, any wizard was an improvement over clumsy Ron. Blinking back tears, Hermione placed her hand in his.

For a little while, it was easy to forget the life waiting when the party ended. Draco guided Hermione with effortless expertise through two songs before directing her to a stop and fetching drinks. Laughter was an unexpected release while they chatted. Draco left her to return their glasses to the bar and Hermione's head spun a bit. They were barely friends and she hadn't expected to enjoy his company.

The fantasy ended when Ron arrived.

"Hermione, what's going on?" he said, voice already low with anger.

"I should think it's obvious," Hermione replied in a deceptively soft tone. "We're through."

"What? Why?" Ron barked, reaching for Hermione.

She stepped out of his range, eyes flashing.

"Hermione?" Draco had joined her.

"I saw you," she hissed at Ron, feeling behind her. She found a hand; fingers laced through hers and gave an encouraging squeeze. Ron's face went white.

Hermione was turned and pulled towards the dance floor. "Dance with me," Draco said. The melody was a slow one. Hermione utterly lost control of her emotions as the wizard held and swayed with her. She hid her face and managed to keep her sobs silent as Draco's arms tightened around her. His hands were comforting as they moved slowly across her back.

Hermione didn't know how much time passed but she was out of tears. She lifted her face from Draco's chest and whispered an apology. Her hands had twined themselves into the front of his robes. They stood in a dimmer corner of the tent.

"Want to leave?" he asked, grey eyes obscured in the darkness.

Hermione nodded. She thought he might Apparate them away. Before that happened, though, something else happened. Draco lifted her chin and pressed her lips to his. The simple kiss stirred Hermione's confused emotions. She broke the connection with a gasp and they Disapparated.

Hermione stepped back from Draco, her hand going to her mouth.

"He was watching," Draco explained.

"Oh?"

"It's what you wanted, isn't it? To hurt him?"

Hermione nodded and pressed a hand to her eyes. They were utterly raw.

"Yes. Thank you," she said lamely.

"Will you be alright?" Draco asked.

Hermione realized that he'd brought her to her doorstep. "I'll be fine. Oh, dear. I cried all over you. …I owe you, don't I?"

Draco's smirk made Hermione's insides tighten in pleasant ways.

"Don't worry. When I collect, it'll be something you'll enjoy," he said. "Good night."

Part III: Strife

When Hermione left the Department of Mysteries for the day, she was pleasantly surprised to find Harry waiting for her.

"We need to talk," he said, robbing all joy from the meeting

"If this is about him, I don't want to hear it," she snapped.

"It's about another him," Harry mocked. "Want to discuss it in the corridor?"

"Don't you get shirty with me, Harry! I'll hex your fingers off," Hermione growled.

Harry laughed and held up his hands. "Hermione! Just get a drink with me!"

Ten minutes later, they walked into a small pub in Diagon Alley and took chairs at the bar.

Once they had drinks, Hermione turned an expectant glare on her best friend and took a sip from her mug.

"Draco Malfoy is in love with you," Harry said quietly.

Hermione sputtered and choked on her drink and Harry thumped her on the back. She hated that he was laughing.

"What the hell, Harry? That's not funny," Hermione coughed.

"I don't know how you've missed it, you horrible swot," Harry teased.

"You can't be serious."

Harry stared at her until she balked.

Hermione covered her face with her hands. She'd used Draco!

"I'll apologize to him," she said, peering at Harry through her fingers.

"No. I'm going to ask you to leave him alone."

"But-"

"No, he's been through enough. He'd curse me for telling you this but he's not a Gryffindor, Hermione, and he's only just put himself together."

Drink forgotten, Hermione could barely breathe.

"I'm serious. If you're not interested, leave him alone."

"He kissed me. I should have guessed," Hermione confessed, fingers subconsciously tracing her lips.

"He doesn't think you'll ever forgive him," Harry said, drinking deep from his mug.

"For?"

"Calling you that awful name, letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts. You know, everything."

"I already have," Hermione said, remembering her drink. She took a sip and frowned, mind spinning. She'd forgive Draco his sins upon his family's repentance, no matter that it came at the end.

"Incidentally, he never knows about this conversation."

"Alright, Harry," Hermione agreed.

Harry took his leave but Hermione stayed-on for another round.

Part IV: Amends

Hermione waited until the end of the day when she was certain to catch him at his desk, before making her way up to the Aurors' office. He didn't immediately spot her so she studied Draco with a critical eye as she walked towards him. There was a smudge of soot on his jaw and his hair was disheveled and his robes were open down the front. He'd had a long day. When he spotted her, a distinct glint lit his gaze.

"Draco," she said.

"Hermione," he replied, idly twirling his wand in one hand.

"I'd like to take you to dinner," Hermione said, aware that a few sets of eyes watched them with interest.

"I was kidding about owing me anything," he said and she almost believed him.

"Not as a thank you," she said, leaning casually on his desk.

"Then, why?" he asked.

She leaned close to him; "When you kissed me, it wasn't because Ron was watching."

His grey eyes widened just a hair, just enough for Hermione to know he understood. She closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.

Warning: Not Epilogue, Cursed Child, or Pottermore compliant

Beta: Pfft, right.

Started: November 29, 2016

A/N: Prompt totally stolen from Dramione's 'If the Prompt Fits' prompt fest. Prompt: After finding Ron cheating in her office at the Ministry, Hermione enlists Draco to make Ron jealous.