A/N: Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you enjoy! Oh, and I still don't own anything in the Harry Potter universe!

Chapter 2: The meeting

Hermione looked into the mirror and sighed. It was a sticky hot day in early July and her hair was such a bushy mess that even Aaragog would have run away screaming. Despite her frustration, she giggled a little at the thought and made a mental not to use that comparison next time she saw Ron. After a few more failed attempts to tame it she settled on a messy bun. With not much hope of doing much else, that would have to do.

"Morning Crookshanks," she crooned at her pet, scratching him lightly behind the ear. "Sorry, no time for our morning read today. I'm filling in for Oliver at the bookstore," she said, spreading marmalade on her toast. The orange cat gave her a disdainful look and stalked off into the bedroom. Hermione watched him go and shrugged to herself. He'll get over it.

"Sorry!" She called again as she hurriedly threw on her shoes and crammed the last bit of toast in her mouth.

Outside she breathed in some much needed fresh air. She did need to fill in for her coworker, but more than that she needed to be out of her flat. Lately it had seemed suffocating. It was as if her nightmares were permeating out of the night and into every nook and cranny of her living space. At least outside she could breathe. And working at Flourish and Blotts allowed her to escape into the world of knowledge that had always been her safe haven. Hermione knew that she didn't want to work there forever, but for the moment it provided her with the comfort and escape she needed to figure out her next step.

After the war there had been so many people in need of medical assistance that she thought her time was best spent at St. Mungo's. Before she had left with Harry and Ron to hunt horcruxes, she had studied up on healing spells and became fairly proficient. So it seemed only natural to offer her services. They were so in need of healers that anyone showing an aptitude was given an abbreviated training course and immediately joined the ranks. After a few years, however, the need dwindled. People were recovering and moving on or being transferred to the long care wards. With most of the Death Eaters rounded up, fewer and fewer new patients were coming in. Many of the more temporary healers were being let go, and only the ones that were highly skilled were kept on. Hermione was offered a full time position, but she politely declined. Her heart was not in it. The work was rewarding enough, she had just never fancied a career in medicine. And if she were honest, she hoped leaving there would get rid of the nightmares. Inside St. Mungo's were constant reminders of the horrors she lived through. She was hopeful taking a step back from that would at least lessen her sleep troubles.

It hadn't. She had been working at Flourish and Blotts for six months now and they hadn't eased a bit. During quiet times at the store she had even researched different methods known to eliminate nightmares to no avail. At least she had time there to ponder her next career step.

A few minutes later she was letting herself in the front door of her favorite store. Hermione smiled brightly, gazing around at all the books. Even after a restless night, this place always made her happy.

Draco stood nervously in an alley near the Leaky Cauldron. He was crazy. He knew it. Oh who was he kidding, he had officially stepped off the crazy train and gone completely and totally mental. What was he thinking? Did he really expect the girl he bullied through school and watched get tortured walk up to him with a smile and say "Lovely to see you again Draco. I hope we can put your murderous aunt behind us and be friends. Care to catch a drink?"

He should leave. Just give up on this hairbrained idea and flee back to the solitude of the country house he now called home. So what if he had nightmares? He deserved them. He could live with the lack of sleep, he should just leave. He would be fine. He was fine. But was she?

The question echoed through his head for the millionth time. When he first decided to find her, he thought perhaps just seeing her would be enough. Possibly just seeing her across the street as she left her job would put his mind at ease. But he was startled to say the least when he tracked her down and found that she was working at Flourish and Blotts. What was the brightest witch in his class doing working at a bookstore? He expected her to find her working in the ministry, or perhaps and important research position. Hell, even Hogwarts, but no the bookstore. It made him uneasy. It gave him the creeping sensation that she may well be as trapped in the Manor as he was. He just needed one interaction to see that she was fine.

Draco began to pace, trying to shake off his nerves. It was almost 5:00. In a few minutes Hermione Granger would walk out into the street, and he needed to make sure he wasn't a complete numbing idiot when she did. Squaring his shoulders he began slowly strolling down the street.

Running his hands through his shock of blonde hair, he tried in vain to keep his mind blank. He may as well have tried to spontaneously sprout gurdyroot from his ears, he would have had as much luck. Part of him had no idea why he was so nervous. He supposed part of it had to do with the lack of social interaction he had had over the last couple of years. He deliberately went out as little as possible, and it certainly wasn't like he had people knocking down his door to see if he was alright. His family was gone, and all of his so called friends had scattered after the war. Ex-Death Eaters were not exactly welcomed with open arms.

As for the other reasons for his nervousness, well he wasn't sure if he could exactly pinpoint it. Or if he wanted to. There was guilt there he knew. But what else? Could it possibly be-

"Malfoy?"

Draco stopped in his tracks. He hadn't even noticed he had passed by the bookstore. Slowly he turned, and there in front of him stood the very person he had been dreaming about for years in the flesh.

"Granger," he replied coolly, silently thanking his father for the first time in years for teaching him to keep stoic at all times.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione blurted out.

"Correct me if I'm, wrong Granger, but I believe this is a shopping district," he said, giving her a small smirk.

"Yes of course," she said a bit flustered. "I just meant-it's just that, well, no one has seen you since the war. I assumed you had fled, or-" She stopped, suddenly looking down.

He quirked and eyebrow. "Or what?"

She flushed slightly before looking up. "Or killed."

Draco blinked, slightly taken aback. "Wishful thinking Granger?" She said nothing, but he noticed her hand reach up to rub her forearm. "Well I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am very much alive."

Hermione started straight ahead and nodded, still absently rubbing her arm.

"I'm not keeping you am I?" He drawled.

That seemed to break her out of her trance. "What?" She asked confused.

He motioned to Flourish and Blotts. "Were you going in?"

"Oh." She flushed slightly. "No. I just finished my shift."

His eyebrows shot up. Feigning ignorance he said "You work here?"

Her brown eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" He didn't even manage to give and answer before she continued. "Yes I work here. Quite enjoy it actually. Is that a problem for you?"

Once again Draco was somewhat taken aback. "No. I just expected you to be doing something more...intellectual."

A flash of anger showed in her eyes as she took a step towards him. "For your information Malfoy," she said his name as though it was an insult. And to her it probably was. "I started working here after leaving St. Mungo's. Is that intellectual enough for you? But I decided I needed a break from healing the people your little colleagues put in there."

Once again grateful for his ability to remain his composure, he reigned in the look of hurt and shame quickly. "Well, that does seem to fit better with your hero complex."

With a look that would have frightened Voldemort himself Hermione took one step closer. It took all his will power to stand his ground.

"My hero complex helped stop the war. Now why don't you go play dress up with your mask wearing friends and stop bothering me."

Draco nodded. "Friends," he said softly. He gave her a sad smile. "You know, for such a clever witch you can be awfully thick." He slowly turned and walked away, not seeing the suddenly disheartened girl behind him.

He shook his head. Well that went well.