I have a feeling some people are gonna hate me. You'll see what I mean when you finish the chapter.

Chapter 11
The party was in full swing when Hermione and Draco arrived. Harry was the first to greet them, throwing his arms around Hermione then shaking Draco's hand. "Really glad you could make it," Harry told him. "Listen, we were talking about putting a pick up Quidditch game together. You interested? It could be just like the old days. Me catching the Snitch, you...not catching it."

"Harry!" Hermione admonished.

Whatever unease Draco felt melted away. "It's fine," he said. "I'm in. It'll give me a chance to redeem myself against the great Harry Potter."

Harry shrugged, a bemused grin on his face. "Whatever you say, Malfoy," he replied. "Anyhow, come on in, get a drink, eat something. Molly's been slaving away for a week despite the fact that I was perfectly content to get take away. So, yeah, there's plenty for all of England to eat."

"Thank you," Hermione murmured, squeezing his arm as she passed.

"I wouldn't thank me yet," Harry replied, stopping her in her tracks. "Ron's here."

She took the news with as little care as possible. "Well, he is your best friend," she said. "I would have expected he be here."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm just concerned about his reaction to seeing Draco here," he murmured, seeing his best friend approach. "And I reckon we'll find out sooner than later."

But if Draco's presence bothered Ron, he didn't let it show. In fact, he pretended the blond wasn't even there. He greeted Hermione with a kiss before dragging her away to see some of their old schoolmates. "No, I'm fine, Weasley," Draco said as he watched them walk away. "Really, everything's great. I'd like to know more about you though."

Harry laughed and clapped him on the back. "Yeah, you definitely need a drink," he decided. Together, the pair entered the crowded kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Molly Weasley, a short, plump, red haired woman, stood over a large pot on the stove. "So, we have firewhiskey, butterbeer, a few muggle liquors. Hermione turned me onto Jack and Coke. My uncle was more of a scotch man and my aunt was the type of woman who put ice cubes in her wine. But this was her dad's favorite. Want to try one?"

"Yeah, why not," Draco replied. He watched as Harry poured a small amount of a light brown liquor into a tumbler before adding the soda. Then he handed it over and waited for Draco to take a sip. After raising the glass to his lips, Draco winced as the concoction made its way down his throat. "Hermione actually drinks this stuff?" he asked, placing the glass down on the table.

"She's not a big drinker, but you knew that," he replied. "But yeah, once in awhile, this is her drink."

Draco nodded and joined Harry at the table. "The last time we drank together was after my trial," he shared. "I mean, we wrote letters in between, but that was the first time we actually saw each other outside of a courtroom or a holding cell. I honestly thought she would still hate me, that one good deed might not have been enough to make up for all the horrible things I'd done to her when we were younger.

"Anyhow, she started telling me all these stories about her parents," he continued. "By the way, she blames you for her first cavity. Bought out the candy trolley, did you?"

Harry grinned and nodded proudly. "It was the first time I'd ever had money," he stated. "What 11 year old wouldn't drop a couple hundred galleons on candy?"

"Can't say I blame you," Draco agreed. "Anyway, she was telling me about her trip to Australia to find them, and how she couldn't. I was sitting there all of five minutes when she started crying. Then, from what I could understand in the midst of the sobbing, she started talking about-" He glanced up to find Molly Weasley still there.

"Yeah," Harry replied, understanding to whom Draco referred.

Draco nodded, grateful that someone understood. "I don't know, she always seemed like she had this perfect life - great parents and friends who love her - but she said she felt more alone than ever," he said.

"Things were...different after the war," Harry admitted, taking a long swallow of his own drink. "I don't think I talked to anyone for three months. Hermione and Ron were together, but restoring her parents' memories was her first priority. Then she was going back to school. Then she was...I don't know, gonna be the youngest person to be named Minister of Magic. Ron and I had no idea what to do with ourselves. Going back to school wasn't an option, at least not for me. Not after everything that happened there. And no matter where we went there were cameras and journalists asking for a quote. Even in a sea of people, it's easy to feel alone. I'm glad she found you though. It seemed to really help her."

"It helped me too," he replied, staring into his glass.

Harry rose to refill his drink. "Sorry if it sounds rude, but I have to ask - do you have feelings for her?"

The living room was abuzz with excitement. Hermione looked around for any sign of Draco, guilty that they were separated and he was amongst unfriendly faces. Ron held her hand, leading her to the sofa. "I'm really glad you came," he told her. "Merlin, it feels like we haven't spent any time together in months."

"One month," Hermione corrected. "We saw each other a month ago. The last time you stormed out of my flat after trying to convince me to move back to the Burrow. And you haven't really spoken to me since then."

An embarrassed blush started at his neck and moved up his cheeks. "Sorry, Mione," he mumbled. "There's just...there's been a lot on my mind lately and sometimes I forget that I have to involve anyone else."

"So you haven't seen Harry in the last month?" she inquired.

The blush rose to his hairline. "Yeah, I have," he mumbled. "But we work together, Mione. I couldn't help it."

"You still could have made an effort," she said sadly. "I could have too. I'm sorry."

Ron held her hand and smiled. "I'm gonna make more of an effort to be better for you," he vowed. He rose from the couch, her hand still in his, and called for everyone's attention. "Harry, I need you to come in here too."

Seconds later, Harry appeared in the doorway with Draco behind him. Hermione shot him a curious, suspicious glance, but the Boy Who Lived merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Mione," Ron started nervously. "Hermione, you're my best friend. I've never loved anyone the way I love you. And, um, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"