AN- Thanks once again to everyone for reviewing and adding the story to your favourites and alerts. I get a warm fuzzy feeling every time I get an email and it inspires me to write more.

I sadly still don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters and it looks like I wont any time in the near future. In the mean time I'm going to occasionally borrow them and make them do my bidding.

Chapter Four- Hermione's Point of view.

It was decided in the end that Malfoy was in fact innocent. However, due to his shady background and upbringing, he had to attend several appointments at the ministry to ensure that he was behaving and sticking to the right path.

It surprised me that often during these meetings, he would come and visit me in my office. We still bickered every time we met, shooting insults at each time. Over time, however, they gradually became more playful.

I think he had become lonely as a lot of his former schoolmates were either locked up or under some sort of curfew.

I was on my lunch break when I bumped into him coming out of one of the lifts.

"Granger, I was just coming to see you," he said, running his hand through his hair and giving me his trademark smirk.

"I was just off out for lunch, what do you want?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to go for a drink tonight?"

"What?" I asked, thinking I hadn't heard him correctly. I could feel a blush creeping up my neck. Draco Malfoy asking me out? It's official. The world has finally gone mad.

He must have noticed my flabbergasted look because he smirked and said "I meant just as friends, Granger. Though if you wanted…" he trailed off, still smirking and shot me a wink.

"No. That's not what I want," I said, trying my best to figure out whether or not he was being serious.

"It was a joke, Granger. You're not really my type," I saw a slight pinkish tinge appear on his cheeks.

"I wasn't joking about going as friends though. I thought it might be nice for some of us to have some company,"

I thought about it. I didn't see much of anyone since I had left The Burrow. Harry and Ginny had visited me once or twice and sent a couple of letters but that was about it.

"I think I'd like that,"

I decided to make an effort with my appearance that night. I knew that I wouldn't be able to tame my hair much, so I pulled it into a ponytail and left a couple of ringlets hand down at the front. I put on a knee length dress that showed a little bit of flesh, but not too much. I thought I looked fairly presentable but I didn't want to try too hard and give Malfoy the wrong impression.

He arrived outside my flat at five past eight. Typical of him to be late, but it didn't bother me. To my surprise, when I opened the door, I saw he was dressed in muggle clothing rather than wizard robes.

He smirked at my poorly concealed surprise at him appearance, and like usual invited himself in.

"I thought you could show me a muggle night out," he suggested.

I raised an eyebrow sceptically. "Are you sure you're really Draco Malfoy?" I asking, giving a small smile.

He chuckled. "I'm meant to be reforming, aren't I?" he said.

"Alright then, I'll just grab my jacket" I tucked my wand and purse into my small beaded bag and grabbed a leather jacket from the hook on the back of the door.

We apperated into an alley way beside a number of clubs and pubs in the middle of the city.

"We'll start in here," I told him, dragging him into a small pub on the corner named The Rusty Horseshoe. I noticed him wrinkle his nose, but he passed no comment. I supposed her was trying to be polite.

Malfoy was right to be slightly disgusted; it was not the cleanest of places. The stench of stale ale filled the air and our feet stuck to the floor. Obviously drinks had been spilled and had not been mopped up.

"Perhaps we should try somewhere else," I suggested. Malfoy nodded and wasted no time in leaving the pub.

Eventually we found a little pub down the street that was less offensive to our noses and settled in there. I ordered myself and Malfoy a drink each and paid as Malfoy watched apprehensively over my shoulder.

We sat in a corner away from everyone else to begin with. Malfoy eyed the pint of larger that I had bought him suspiciously before taking a small sip. It seemed to meet his approval as he didn't complain or pull any faces.

To begin with, conversation was sparse. I couldn't think of much to say to my former enemy and I was guessing he felt the same. It wasn't all that bad though; the silence between us was comfortable.

After a few drinks, we moved on to another pub. Outside this one was a blackboard that advertised that it was karaoke night. Malfoy wrinkled his brow as he read the sign.

"Do you know any muggle songs?" I asked him, smiling.

"Not really," he replied.

"You don't know what you're missing out on," I pulled him inside and plonked him down at a table as I ordered more drinks.

As I returned back to the table, I smiled to myself as I had a sudden image of Malfoy singing 'It's raining men' by The Weather Girls on the karaoke though I doubted I'd ever manage to get him up there. Perhaps when he'd had a few more drinks.

The night passed pleasantly. We got more than a little tipsy and by closing time, we were both leaning on each other for support.

"Thanks for a fun night," I said to him as we stumbled down the street.

"I'll see you back home safely," he said.

"Oh, my night in shining armour," I joked.

"Well, it's thanks to you that I'm not in Azkaban right now,"

We lapsed into silence as we continued down the street and towards the alley way where we would be apperating back to my flat.

As we got closer to the corner, we saw a hunched figure sat on the pavement, head in its hands. I dug in my purse to see if I had any spare change to offer the homeless man, but I has spent up.

I carried on walking past him, but Malfoy stopped in his tracks.

"What's up Malfoy?" I asked. His eyes were trained on the man sat on the pavement and his mouth hung open.

"Is that one of the Weasleys?" he asked me in a whisper.

For the first time, my eyes focussed properly on the man in front of us. From the faint light cast by a nearby streetlamp, I could make out vivid red hair poking through the fingers that clutched his head and a few faint freckles on his hands. As absurd as it was, my first though was Fred, but I knew it couldn't be.

"George, is that you?" I said finally.

The man sat on the floor lifted his head. "Hermione?"