A huge thank you to my beta CourtingInsanity for her skilled eye and ongoing feedback 3

"Hello, Granger."

Hermione looked at the blond man in disbelief as he greeted her. Draco sodding Malfoy. Arrogant, cruel, cowardly, one-time ferret, and all-around prat, Malfoy. The boy who had teased and despised her throughout their school years, who had let himself be controlled by Voldemort and his followers, whose actions had contributed to the death of Albus Dumbledore and allowed Death Eaters to invade the school.

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you think you're doing here?"

He looked flustered, unsure, and trapped. She was surprised, but remained on her guard. "I-" Draco glanced around, trying to think of an explanation. "I came here to enjoy the music."

Hermione scoffed. "You? Here, at a mu-" she caught herself just in time, conscious that they might be overheard "-at this kind of club? It really doesn't seem like your scene, Malfoy."

Despite being initially intimidated, Draco felt slightly indignant at this accusation. "How do you know what is and isn't my scene, Granger?" he asked tightly.

"I'd say six years of hell at school would leave me fairly well disposed to make an educated guess. And I'm afraid to say, this environment-" she gestured to the room at large with one arm "-is not the type I would expect you to be likely to come anywhere near, let alone enter willingly."

Draco sighed. Despite his annoyance at her quick judgement, she was right. And he had already known he should not expect a warm greeting or an open mind from the witch who he had so cruelly bullied during their years at Hogwarts. "I understand why you would think that." She looked at him with one eyebrow raised, hands on her hips. "I truly do. I've been coming here for several weeks now, to hear you sing."

Hermine let out a cynical laugh. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"

"Because you have an enchanting voice." He said simply. At her baffled expression, he said, "Please, won't you sit down? Can I buy you a drink?"

His offer reminded her why she had ventured into the crowd to begin with.

"Buy me a drink…? Haven't you bought me enough?" At his guarded expression, she confirmed, "It was you sending me things, was it not?" He nodded mutely. "No, I don't think I will sit down. And I don't require a drink." Shaking her head, she continued. "I simply don't understand how you came to find this club, or why you have been sending me gifts." She realised she sounded a bit rude, and although she despised the ferret, she could not abide rudeness. "I-I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound ungrateful. They have all been lovely. It's just a bit of a shock to realise they were from you, given our history."

"Believe me, I'm just as surprised as you," Draco replied, finally finding his voice. "But as hard as it may be to believe, I'm not the same prat I was in school." He huffed deprecatingly. "Well, I'm still a prat. Just not the same prat." Her mouth twitched slightly upwards at his quip. Feeling encouraged, he continued. "I'm sorry if I overstepped my bounds with the gifts. Were they inappropriate?"

Hermione looked down at her feet, and then up again. Shifting uncomfortably, she said, "The dress. It was-"

"Too much?" he finished, looking downcast and regretful. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause offense. I just thought it would look lovely on you."

She didn't know what to make of this new Draco. He seemed nervous, intimidated, unsure of himself. It was so out of character compared with the Draco Malfoy she had known previously that it discomfited her. Even during the trials following the battle of Hogwarts, when he and his family had been before the Wizengamot, the blond wizard had maintained his cold, confident exterior.

Is it all an act? her suspicious mind wondered. Part of some elaborate prank?

She couldn't think of any reason why he would have an ulterior motive or poor intentions, but regardless, she could not help but be suspicious of his presence.

"How did you even know my size?" she asked. "Surely you didn't just guess? In my experience, most men aren't particularly knowledgeable when it comes to women's clothing."

She thought back to Ron and Harry and their complete lack of understanding regarding women's fashion. She and Ginny had tried to take the boys shopping with them once. It had been quite disastrous. Ron had pointed out awful dresses which would not have been at all flattering, and were definitely the right colour, and when she tried to explain shades and cuts to him, he had shrugged and said, "I dunno, 'Mione. They all look the same to me." Harry, meanwhile, had made Ginny extremely cross when he declared every item she tried on to be "nice."

Draco smiled wryly. "Actually, I did guess. I grew up being regularly instructed in contemporary fashion," he said. "I learnt about how to choose the right clothing for the right occasion, for both men and women. As a result, I have become adept at correctly selecting items of clothing which would fit and flatter any wit- any woman." He looked around guiltily. It was much harder pretending to be just another muggle when he was in a public place where others might overhear.

Hermione pretended not to notice his slip. His explanation seemed credible enough; from what she knew of Pureblood Wizarding families and their traditions, she could imagine all of the children being subjected to trivialities such as "...the right clothing for the right occasion.".Still, it was a bit much. "I'm not sure I can accept it," she said hesitantly.

Happy that she seemed to accept his explanation, Draco countered, "Please. Keep it. Unless-" his face fell. "Was it not to your taste? Inappropriateness aside, I mean?"

"N-no, it was- it is- lovely. I'm just not sure I can accept such an extravagant dress." She suddenly remembered the footwear. "You even got me shoes to go with it. It's too much."

"If you like them, keep them. Please." She continued to look unsure. "I'm afraid the style wouldn't suit me as well as it would you, and the shoes won't do at all," he joked.

That little twitch at the corners of her mouth, again. He found it strangely endearing.

"I-I'll think about it." She looked down at her hands, then back up at Draco. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"You're welcome. You don't mind if I keep coming?" he asked, worry evident in his eyes. "If you're uncomfortable with me sending you gifts, I'll stop." When she didn't say anything, he hurried on. "I truly didn't mean to cause offence. I knew if you knew that it was me you wouldn't accept them. I simply wanted to compliment you in the only way I could without revealing myself."

"As much as I appreciate your thoughts, perhaps that would be for the best." She sighed. "You're right, I do find it uncomfortable, given the circumstances."

"But you don't object to me coming to hear you?"

She sighed again. "It's not really my place to stop you."

"Thank you," he replied, quietly. "Can I talk to you again?"

He looked hopeful, but Hermione simply couldn't bring herself to say yes. Fidgeting and uneasy, she replied, "I-I don't think that would be wise." She felt a pang at his crestfallen, slightly hurt expression, and her resolve momentarily wavered. Could she-? No. She didn't think she could. Her previous experiences of him would make any encounters uncomfortable at best, and acrimonious at worst. Best just to avoid interacting with him altogether.

An uncomfortable silence passed between them.

After a few moments, Hermione remembered she was still in her stage clothes. "Um-well. Thank you for the gifts. Please excuse me, I need to get changed."

He nodded. "It's about time for me to leave, anyway." He stood up. "Well… goodnight, Granger." Without another word, he turned and walked toward the exit, leaving a confused and still slightly miffed Hermione standing in his wake.

Draco left the club as quickly as he could without raising suspicion, the last of his nerve gone. With a backward wave of his hand to Larry and John at the door, he walked down the street and round the corner to a secluded area where he could safely disapparate.

He apparated home, arriving in the foyer of Malfoy Manor and went straight upstairs to his study. Bursting through the door, he almost ran to the liquor cabinet in the corner. He snatched up a bottle, poured a generous amount of firewhiskey into a tumbler and lifted it to his lips, his hands shaking, before swallowing the contents in one go. Shuddering at the feel of the alcohol burning its way down into his stomach, he poured another.

Setting the bottle down roughly, he walked over to the fireplace opposite his desk. Above the mantel hung a large mirror, and he stared contemplatively at his reflection as he held the tumbler in his hand. The mirror-Draco was pale, much paler than usual, and his eyes were haunted, sad, and defeated. The expression on his face was one of dejection. After a few moments, the mirror-Draco curled his lip in a sneer.

"What were you thinking, you bloody fool? That she'd just accept your being there and agree to talk to you, like you were a normal person? You're worthless to her. Less than worthless. She looks at you with disgust and hatred, just like everybody else. Why even go back? She doesn't want you there."

Draco swallowed the second glass of firewhiskey in one swift motion, then went back to retrive the bottle. Picking it up, he considered the tumbler in his hand for a moment before placing it back on the shelf and carrying the bottle over to his desk. All he could think of was escaping into the darkness, something he considered a friend.

Sitting down in the leather chair, he swigged directly from the bottle. He regarded the mirror-Draco bitterly, and the mirror-Draco regarded bitterly him in return.

Malfoy Manor, Sunday morning

Theo Flooed into the Manor. They had arranged to meet for lunch and to discuss the upcoming quarterly St Mungo's shareholders meeting, as Theo had newly been appointed to the board. He had managed to keep his reputation fairly intact after the war due to his neutrality, and with Nott Sr dead, leaving Theo the only surviving heir, the younger Nott had spent considerable time and money working to improve and expand St Mungos and its services. One of the older board members had retired several months ago, and in thanks for his efforts, he had been offered and subsequently accepted the vacant seat.

"Draco…? Draco!" He sensed no movement and received no response, causing him to frown in concern. "Pria!" he called.

With a small pop, a house-elf appeared beside him. She was wearing a floral pillowcase and a small white pinny. "Good morning, Master Nott. You is here to see Master Malfoy?"

Theo nodded. "Is he here? We were supposed to meet for lunch and to go over a meeting agenda."

Pria looked uncomfortable. "Master Malfoy is in his study. He sleeps."

"Sleeps?" Theo felt his stomach drop. "Has he been drinking all night?"

Pria nodded sadly.

"What happened? He's been doing really well lately." It was true - since Draco had been granted re-entry to the club where Hermione sang, he had cut back drastically on the drinking. Although he still drank heavily during the week, he had not been blackout drunk since then, as had been his regular custom prior.

The elf shook her head. "Pria does not know, sir. Master Malfoy came home last night, most distraught. He went straight to his study and did not come out again."

Sighing, Theo turned towards the stairs. "I'd better go in and see to him. Can you bring a hangover potion, please? Extra strength, if you have it."

"Pria will bring." With another small pop, the elf disappeared, and Theo headed upstairs.

"Draco! Draco, wake up!"

"Huh?" Draco could feel someone shaking him and calling his name. The shaking was rattling his brain most unpleasantly. "Gerroff, will you?" he mumbled.

He slowly sat up, wincing at the pain in his head and grimacing at the taste in his mouth. Squinting, he saw Theo looking at him in concern. Suddenly, he remembered. "Shit. Sorry Theo, I completely forgot."

Sending movement to his right, he gingerly turned his head to see Pria holding a hangover potion out to him. "Thank you, Pria," he said gratefully, taking the vial from the elf. Uncorking it, he quickly swallowed the contents.

"Will Master Malfoy be requiring anything else?"

"Just some water for me please, Pria. And whatever Theo would like."

The elf looked expectantly at Theo.

"Tea will be fine, thank you Pria."

She nodded and snapped her fingers. A tray holding tea, milk, sugar, a cup and saucer, a decanter of water and a tall glass appeared on the desk.

"Thank you, Pria. That will be all for now."

She nodded at the dismissal and disappeared again, leaving the two men alone.

Theo sat down heavily in the chair opposite the desk, and appraised his friend. An almost-empty bottle of firewhisky sat to one side. He observed the lack of a glass, and knew it must have been serious.

He prepared his tea and picked up the cup and saucer before speaking. "What happened last night, Draco?"

"She found out it was me sending the gifts."

"I see. I take it this revelation wasn't well received?"

Draco laughed humorlessly. "You might say that. Although, I suppose it could have been worse. She didn't expressly forbid me from going back."

Theo said nothing, simply waiting for him to continue.

Draco debated not saying anything more, then ended up retelling the previous night's events anyway.

"So that's that." Draco shrugged as he concluded the tale. "She knows who I am, and she's not happy. She doesn't want anything to do with me and would rather I wasn't there at all."

"What are you going to do now? Will you go back next week?"

"No. I don't think so. If I'm there, it will just make her uncomfortable, and I don't want to do that. I'll… I'll find something else to occupy my time."

Theo worried about what that 'something else' might be. He strongly suspected it would involve several long conversations between Draco and numerous bottles of liquor. His friend was lost, and he didn't want to see him get swallowed by the darkness again. Not just when it looked like he might find his way out.

"Just give it time, yeah? Don't give up just yet." He looked at Draco pleadingly.

Draco didn't fail to notice the double meaning behind his friend's words. He read the concern on his face. Still, he wondered, why shouldn't he give up? What had he to look forward to now? What motivation had he to try and do something other than sink below the surface of a bottle?

The Wizarding world cared not a jot for Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater and sometimes-blood traitor.

Realising that his dark thoughts were consuming him again, but not wanting to upset Theo further, he nodded and tried to smile. It came out more like a grimace of pain, as if the very act hurt him. Still, Theo seemed to relax slightly.

I can keep up appearances for a few hours, he thought to himself.

Outwardly, he brought his hands together. "Right. Shall we discuss the upcoming meeting? What is on the agenda that you want to address?"

Theo looked startled, as if he had momentarily forgotten why he had come, but then he reached into his robes and pulled out a roll of parchment. "I want to focus on point five, which covers the upcoming budget allocations. I want to try and convince the other shareholders we need to invest further in research."

Draco nodded. "An area that always seems to be overlooked." He reached for the parchment and began to read. After several minutes he placed it down, feeling a purpose and drive which he was thankful for. He was glad for this distraction, any distraction, which would keep the dark thoughts from seeping in and threatening to overwhelm him.

The Blue Jazzist, the following Saturday, ten fifty-five pm

"Hey Larry, John. You lads seen Draco tonight?"

"Nah, he hasn't been in, Rog," Larry replied.

"It's not like 'im to not show up at all. D'ya think 'e's ill?" John wondered.

Over the time Draco had been visiting the club, he had built up a rapport with everyone, even John - who had at first been convinced he would never like the blond man and that sooner or later he would end up causing more trouble. But after several weeks had gone by without incident, and with Draco making what was clearly a sincere effort to be cordial to everyone, his opinion had thawed. He had been bemused to see the friendship between Draco and Roger grow, but John had figured it was a good sign and left it at that.

Now he could see Roger was worried, although he tried not to show it.

"Ahh, it's one weekend," Larry said, trying to be reassuring. "Maybe he's just taking some time out, giving Hermione some space."

After Hermione had confronted Draco the previous weekend, she had confronted Roger regarding his involvement. It had been awkward. Somehow it had all come out that the two had stuck up a friendship, and she had struggled to accept this. Nevertheless, Roger meant a great deal to her and she did not wish to alienate him, however strongly she disliked the ferret.

Roger tried and failed to look nonchalant. "You're right. I'm sure he's just caught up with something else this weekend." He turned and walked slowly back into the club.

Larry and John were getting ready to close the doors. The last of the patrons had been escorted out and most of the staff had finished the cleaning and gone home, leaving only Lloyd behind the bar and Roger dealing with the night's take.

Hearing footsteps, Larry turned to see a group of half a dozen men walking towards them. "Sorry gents, we're closed. Come back next week, yeah?" The group kept advancing and he glanced at John, who was already alert. "Rog," Larry spoke quickly into his radio. "I think we've got trou-" He was unable to finish his sentence as the group suddenly rushed him, knocking him down before he could react.

Malfoy Manor, the next day

"Draco? Draco!"

Draco slowly regained consciousness, groaning at the pain in his head and the brightness in the room. Following his confrontation with Granger the previous weekend, he had slipped back into his old habit of drinking himself to sleep most nights. He had not been back to the club, unable to bear the thought that she would be disapproving of and uncomfortable with his presence.

"Draco? Where the bloody hell are you?" He heard the voice getting closer, accompanied by growing footsteps.

Theo poked his head around the door of the study. "Do you ever sleep in your room any more? Or have you moved in here?" A twinkle caught his eye and he looked in that direction to observe glass all over the rug in front of the fireplace. Looking up, he saw the mirror which hung above the mantel was broken. "Mirror, mirror, on the wall..." he quipped.

Draco frowned in confusion. "What?"

"Never mind. It's from a Muggle book Hannah showed me. Did you have a disagreement with the mirror?"

He had, in fact. He had become altogether sick of mirror-Draco sneering and glaring at him, and had ended up throwing the tumbler in his hand at the glass so he would not have to look at himself any more. Instead of admitting this, however, he glanced at the clock above the door. "It's a bit early for a visit, isn't it?"

Sweeping his eyes over his desk, he was relieved to see a hangover potion already sitting to the side. Once its effects had kicked in, he looked back at his friend and was immediately concerned by the grim expression he wore. "Theo. What's wrong?"

"You'd better read this, mate." Theo handed him a folded over newspaper.

Draco picked it up, observing it was a Muggle edition.

"Violent armed robbery at jazz club in London

A jazz club in central London became the subject of a vicious armed robbery in the early hours of this morning.

The Blue Jazzist was about to close for the night when an unidentified group of men forced their way into the premises after attacking the two bouncers on the door.

The bouncers were viciously beaten and both have been admitted to hospital where they remain in a serious condition.

The group appeared to have been after money and alcohol, and took large quantities of both after threatening the barman and owner, who were the only two people remaining inside the building.

The total financial losses have not been disclosed, but it is thought to be a considerable sum."

Draco looked up, his eyes burning with anger. "Can you find out who they were?"

Theo shrugged. "I can try, but there's no guarantee."

Draco got up and began to pace. "The article says only the owner and barman were inside. Hermione must have left already, Thank Merlin." He went to a set of robes hanging from a hook beside the door, where he retrieved his money bag. "I'm going to try and help."

"Draco!"

He turned impatiently in the doorway.

"Make sure you exchange your galleons for muggle money."

Draco looked down at the pouch in his hand. "Oh. Erm. Right. Thanks, Theo." Without another word, he rushed down to the foyer and apparated away.

The Blue Jazzist, late Sunday morning

Draco arrived at the entrance to the club to find a lone muggle policeman standing in front of the door, who immediately moved forward to block his path.

"I'm sorry sir, this is a crime scene and you'll need to move along."

"I'm hoping to speak with the owner, please?"

"He isn't giving any more statements to the media. Move along, please."

Media? What's that? Draco wondered.

"No, he's a friend of mine." The policeman looked at him distrustfully, clearly not believing him. "Please…I heard of the robbery and I'm worried about him. My name is Draco Malfoy. He'll confirm our connection."

The policeman looked like he was going to say no, and Draco considered using a quick bit of magic to push him along. After a minute, however, he said, "Wait here, Mr Malfoy."

He walked back to the door, opened it, and stuck his head in. "Mathers!" He paused a moment. "Come out here a minute." The policeman stepped back from the door again, allowing a second to step through. He gestured to Draco and said, "This gentleman says he knows the owner. Go and ask him if he's familiar with a Mr Draco Malfoy, will you?"

The second policeman nodded and went back inside, leaving Draco waiting anxiously. The first policeman watched him closely the entire time.

After several minutes, the door opened and Roger stepped out. "Draco! Where have you been this last week?" He moved over to Draco to clap him on the shoulder in greeting.

"I'm terribly sorry, Roger. I had… other business I needed to attend to." He looked down momentarily before meeting the owner's eyes. "Never mind me, though. I'm more concerned about you. I read about the robbery."

Roger looked grim. "Come on inside, son. I'll fill you in on the details." He looked over at the policeman. "He's with me, alright?"

The policeman nodded before making eye contact with Draco. "Please refrain from touching anything and don't get in the way of the officer inside," he warned. Draco nodded in assent before following Roger into the building.

They made their way to Roger's office and sat down.

"Tell me exactly what happened," Draco said fiercely.

Roger sighed. "There were six of them. They waited until we were closing and jumped Larry and John before they could react, then rushed in to the main bar and threatened Lloyd. Four of them kept him pinned down while the other two found my office, forced their way in and demanded all the money I had in the safe." He stopped and looked at his hands. "What could I do? There were two of them and it was just me. I didn't have anything to fend them off with. I had to let them take it. Once they had the money, they were off back into the bar to clear us out of booze. All of them had weapons under their jackets and were carrying backpacks, there was nothing we could do to stop them."

"Were either of you hurt?" Draco asked.

"No, Lloyd and I were unharmed. It was Larry and John who copped it."

"And how are they doing?" he enquired.

Roger looked defeated. "Larry has a broken jaw, three cracked ribs and a broken arm. John has a dislocated shoulder, two black eyes, a broken nose and his leg is broken in two places."

"Their recovery time?"

"The doctors say Larry will be out of action for at least six weeks. John is looking at closer to two months, depending on how his shoulder and leg heal."

Draco was horrified. How the hell do muggles get along without magic? he wondered.

Of course, he couldn't very well ask this question of Roger. Instead, he said simply, "I want to help."

Roger smiled sadly. "That's kind of you, Draco, but I don't think there's much you can do."

"Please. You've been a good friend to me, and I don't want to see your business suffer." He took a deep breath. "I hope you don't think me too impertinent if I ask you what the financial impact of this robbery will be on the club?"

Roger shook his head. "You don't mince your words, I'll give you that." He looked down at a piece of paper in in front of him, then back up at Draco. "The take was for the whole weekend, about two and a half thousand pounds in total. They made off with three or four bottles of top shelf liquor each, worth about eight hundred pounds. If I want to stay open, I'll need to find a couple of good blokes to cover the door, but I can't afford to pay temps what I pay the boys. I just don't have the budget."

Draco nodded. "Let me help you with your costs. Please."

"I couldn't ask that of you. Besides, I have insurance. Hopefully, they'll cover some of it, minus the excess."

That didn't sound good enough for Draco. He tried again. "Please Roger, I insist. Let me replace the alcohol and your take. I can't do much about what happened, but I can do this." He thought for a moment. "And I have some friends who may be willing to help you on the door until Larry and John come back. If I ask them, I'm sure they'll agree to help."

Roger shook his head. "I'll manage. It just wouldn't be right to take advantage like that."

"You wouldn't be taking advantage. I want to help. You've been a good friend to me, and in the last few years I've learned that good friends are few and far between." He reached into his coat pocket and drew out a fold of bills, which he laid on Roger's desk. "There's four thousand pounds here. Take it."

Roger tried to hide the emotion he felt at the gesture. Nodding, he reached out to pick up the money. "Thank you," he said quietly. "But only a loan, you understand? I'll pay you back once I get back on track."

"No." Draco was firm. "It's a gift. If you try and pay me back, I shall be insulted." His lips quirked in a small smile. "You don't want to upset the toff, do you?"

Snorting back laughter at the quip, Roger looked at Draco and smiled. "Thank you again, Draco. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"It's the least I can do. I'll talk to my friends and organise some cover for you. Don't concern yourself with paying them. I'll take care of that." Moving to stand, Draco asked, "Where can I find Larry and John? I'd like to check on them."

Roger gave him the hospital and room number, and Draco nodded his thanks before farewelling his friend and leaving the club.

Oh dear... Draco didn't take Hermione's rejection too well, did he?