Disclaimer: They're not mine.
I'm waking up again in Draco's flat. His arm is wrapped comfortably just behind my head and upper back, and I'm turned into him, my arm just draped over his upper chest. I sigh with what I realize soon after is content, burrowing my head a bit further into the curve of his shoulder.
He smiles without opening his eyes.
"Morning," he says quietly.
"Morning," I reply. This sweet comfort is becoming typical of our mornings spent together.
"So what's on the agenda today?" he asks, turning slightly to look down at me.
I lean up for that first kiss of the morning before responding.
"I'm actually not sure," I say. "As I said last night, I'm hoping my most recent project is as simple as the ones I've had so far."
"Think they'll ever get you back on muggle inventions instead of accidents?" He says it in a joking tone.
"No clue," I respond, stretching out and snuggling back down to him. His fingers start running in light little circles along my shoulder, and I'm just a bit dizzy. "I do what they tell me."
"I know the feeling," he says, and I can't help but notice his voice is a little less joking.
Soon enough, we're up and about.
"So do you suspect you'll start bringing some sleeping robes along with you?" he asks, hiding a smile as I adjust my robes.
I take out my wand and mutter a spell to take out the wrinkles. "See," I say, my tone playful, "if I were to do something like that, we might start assuming I'm staying here often."
"True," he says, pulling me to him and kissing me softly. "We can't have that."
I melt all over again in his arms, just catching myself wishing our nights were as comfortable as the mornings after.
I arrive at the office just barely on time, a rarity for me. I tend to be what Ron used to call "sickeningly early," but I suppose a few minutes later than my norm can't be all bad.
"Hermione," calls Mr. Weasley as I'm passing his office.
"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" I respond, turning on the spot and poking my head just a bit inside.
"Arthur, Hermione. Arthur," he reminds me, as he always does. It's just so awkward for me to say that.
"Of course," I say. "Arthur."
He motions for me to step in, and I do. He hands me a bit of parchment, which turns out to be a memo from the Accidental Magic Reversal Department.
As it happens, they'd like me to come work for them.
"See," he explains, "they say you've done such a great job on the past couple of assignments that they'd like to take you on as a full-time employee."
My eyes widen. "A real job at the Ministry?" I say.
He chuckles. "Yes," he says. "Unfortunately, my department isn't hiring, or I would've offered it to you months ago."
"And how do you feel about this?" I ask him cautiously, knowing some of his relations with the Ministry.
"I think it's fine work for you," he says sincerely. "It's just your cup of tea, and they'd love to have you."
I smile.
"Of course, we'll miss you around here," he concedes. "But I suppose we'll manage."
"As I'm sure you will," I reply. "So when would I start working over there?"
"As soon as you'd like," He responds. "I can have someone help you move your things immediately if you want."
I think about it for a moment. "How about tomorrow?" I ask.
He smiles. "Tomorrow sounds just fine with me."
"So how was your last day in Dad's department?"
I always wonder how Ginny knows things almost before I do.
"It was good," I reply. "Just more of the norm, but somehow more meaningful, since it was all the last time."
"I know what you mean," she says thoughtfully. "Life's sort of like that, isn't it?"
I nod, turning my attention to Crookshanks, who has been weaving in and out of my legs for the last few minutes.
"So how are things with Malfoy?" she asks, her tone much more knowing than last time we had this conversation.
"Pretty good," I say honestly.
"So does he hold your hand in public often?" Her eyes twinkle in that way only Ginny's can when she asks.
I feel the blush creeping into my cheeks. "We're not so much for public at all, really," I reply quietly.
"You know," she says in a fake thoughtful tone, "you two looked pretty much like a couple in there."
The blush is now uncomfortably warm and I direct my attentions more completely to the cat. He doesn't mind, after all. "I don't know what you're talking about," I mutter to Ginny.
"Of course you don't," she says.
A moment of silence passes, though I get the feeling it's a planned moment.
"So where did you sleep last night?"
That's another of those phrasings that stays suspended in the air for far too long after it's been stated. It's there, I've heard it, and it should just disappear immediately.
"I thought so," she says slyly without waiting for my reply.
I shrug. "Like I said," I reply, "things are pretty good."
She nods.
"It's weird, though," I add softly. I notice she comes a little closer to hear what I say next. "We're always so much more at ease with one another in the mornings. Does that make sense?"
She thinks for a moment. "Yes," she says. "Blaise and I were like that for quite a while in the very beginning."
"And now?"
She laughs in that mischievous way. "Now we just snog all the time, not only in the mornings."
I laugh along with her.
"So has there been any talk yet?" she says after a moment.
"Certainly not," I say quickly.
"It'll be soon enough, you know," she says wisely.
"Please don't tell me that..." I don't care that my voice sounds just a bit whiny.
"The more serious it gets, the closer that talk comes."
"Well that's good," I say firmly. "Because serious is most certainly something we are not."
It's not until I find myself yet again at Draco's flat, curled as comfortably as ever in his arms, that I begin to wonder anything different.