Hermione POV

The sun shone brilliantly today. I found myself unable to remain in the apothecary for very long, and just placed the order and said I'd pick it up in an hour. I roamed the streets just enjoying the sunshine. After my eighth year at Hogwarts, the press got bored with me. They still hounded Harry from time to time, and Ron had made it clear long ago that he wanted nothing to do with the Daily Prophet, having said that it had spat too many lies through the years, he wouldn't have anything he said misprinted. We had all seen how awful the Prophet could be. It had been in my fourth year that it had been directed at me.

My mind seemed to be wandering a lot lately, at least today. It was the day after school started for the young witches and wizards, so Diagon Alley was pretty quiet. Although, I still managed to run into someone outside of Madam Malkin's dress shop.

Draco POV

Someone ran into me with a huff, and fell backwards. I rolled my eyes readying my retort, when I realized just who's bushy brown hair was sitting on the ground in front of me, brown eyes wide in disbelief.

"Granger," I greeted, only halfway sarcastically.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered, moving to stand, and I held my hand out to her. She blinked at me once, and then raised her hand slowly to take mine. I could tell that she didn't trust me, and I would never admit it out loud, but I wished I could kill my aunt a second time to make up for what she had done to Hermione.

When Hermione was on her feet again, she brushed the dust from the street off of her clothes nervously, refusing to make eye contact.

"Thank you...Malfoy," she whispered again.

"Whispering to someone who has just helped you up off of the street isn't the way to make me believe your thanks." I retorted. It was only halfhearted, but I couldn't show her the soft side I wanted to, she was another man's wife. "Although...I think I should be calling you Weasley, shouldn't I?"

She looked up at me with confusion. "Why would my last name be Weasley?" she asked.

"Did you not marry the younger Weasley prat?"

"Well...I did, but it didn't exactly work out. And be nice, we may not be in a relationship, but he is still my friend."

"I wasn't aware I was ever nice to either of you." I knew I was being rude, but inside I was jumping for joy. She isn't his. But a sobering thought came to mind, 'but she'll never be yours either, she'll never trust you.'

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to say anything." I loved her spark. I was debating whether or not I should bait her, but decided on something else instead.

"Well, I was just heading to Flourish and Blott's while I wait for my mother to be done refilling her closet, if you are still a book worm, and a know-it-all, you are welcome to join me." I stepped around her without waiting for an answer, knowing that she'll either follow me, or make an excuse not to.

"How about you accompany me to the apothecary so I can pick up my order, and then we can go to Flourish and Blott's together?" she suggested to my surprise.

"I don't see why not." She almost beamed at me. I could see a flicker of it behind her small satisfied smile. And I couldn't help but wonder why she would be happy for me to walk with her.