A/N: Yeah, I know, it's been a long time. I had finals and then I was sick virtually my entire winter break and, most importantly, my muses were decidedly uninspired until I was on my way to work today. I'm still sick, but I figured it had been way too long for me to just ignore my muses.

Disclaimer: You know this by now. If you recognize it, it isn't mine. Plot only!

"I thought you were done with this whole 'going in to work' business."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Malfoy, who had been waiting outside her door. "I can't just stop going in altogether. I actually like it there. How long have been standing here?"

"A good twenty minutes. Very uncomfortable."

"Put that out," Hermione motioned towards his cigarette. "I don't want you smoking those in my flat anymore."

"Just let me finish this one and I'll stop," he muttered irritably.

"Bad day?" Hermione asked as she unlocked her door.

"You could say that," he sighed, following her in. "My mother sent me an owl. She wants me to go visit my father with her this weekend."

"I take it you don't want to go?"

"Not particularly," Malfoy replied, leaning back against the door. "Apparently he's ill."

"Don't you think you should go then?"

Malfoy snorted. "I'm sure my father can manage a cold without the help of his son."

"But-"

"Drop it," Malfoy said airily. "Don't get that bushy head of yours in a twist about my father's dire case of the sniffles."

Hermione rolled her eyes, self-consciously patting her hair. It wasn't that bushy anymore. "Whatever. Don't get too comfortable, I'm leaving again shortly."

"Where to?"

"Hogsmeade. Routine check on my store there, that sort of thing."

Malfoy scowled around his cigarette.

"You could come-"

"No."

"You have to go back sometime."

"I know, but it's just…" he trailed off, leaning his head against the door.

"The excuses run out eventually, Draco," she said gently.

"I don't know if I'm ready," he replied softly. "Everyone from that world – our world…they all despise me now. They look at me and all they see is a Death Eater who's no different than his father."

"Well, then you'll just have to prove them all wrong, won't you?"

"You're sickeningly optimistic," he sighed.

"I just believe in you, that's all," she said, stepping up to him.

Malfoy blinked down at her. "That's even more sickeningly optimistic."

"Come on," she said, holding out her hand.

He eyed her hand cautiously. "It won't be long?"

"Not very long, no."

"You sure?"

"Just trust me, okay?" Hermione flashed back the fight with Ron, which had happened over a week ago.

With a deep, bracing sigh, Malfoy took her hand in his. "Alright, hurry up before I change my mind."

Hermione gave him a brief smile before briskly turning on the spot, throwing them both into the unpleasantness that was Apparition.

After a few moments, they found themselves standing just outside the Hogsmeade train station. Hermione took a deep breath, admiring the scene around her. She never tired of the village. With the backdrop of mountains and, most importantly, Hogwarts, the village had always seemed like a dream escape to her.

"Charming," Malfoy said sarcastically, dropping Hermione's hand. "It's as if she's never seen the place before – oh wait, she has."

Hermione glared at him.

"You said this would be quick," he snapped.

"Are you going to be foul the entire time we're here?"

"Yes," he said blankly. "And you're stupid if you expected anything else."

"Look, I don't have the patience for this today, so unless you have something nice to say then just shut up until we leave, okay?" Hermione snapped at him, brandishing her wand threateningly.

Malfoy glared right back at her, and Hermione could tell from his expression that he was restraining from throwing a few choice obscenities at her. "Fine," he ground out evententually.

Hermione tucked her wand back into it's pocket and marched off towards her store without another word. She didn't check to make sure he was following her – he wouldn't get anywhere without a wand, so he either had to follow her or sit petulantly outside the train station to wait for her.

As she made her way into the heart of the village, Hermione felt her anger start to ebb away. It was hard for her to be in a bad mood here – there were too many pleasant memories she had of the place, and it was such a cheerful environment that she often came to Hogsmeade whenever she needed a good cheering up. It was also quite a pleasant day, warm but not quite warm enough to make you break out in a sweat. Perfect weather to get a Butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks and find a nice place outside to enjoy it – unless, of course, you had a sulky Malfoy to pacify.

Hermione started to look over her shoulder to check for said sulky Malfoy, and gave a little jump when she saw that he had been walking right next to her.

Her scare seemed to cheer him up a little. "Thought I'd be sitting it out at the station, huh?" he asked with a slight smirk.

"Maybe," she hedged.

"You did," he said with a sort of self-satisfied certainty.

"Okay, yeah, I did," Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Can you blame me?"

"Considering all your mushy talk about 'believing in me' and all that shit, I find myself insulted," he said gravely. Hermione glanced back over at him to glare, only to have him laugh at her. "You take things way too seriously sometimes, Granger."

"Whatever, we're here," Hermione sighed, stopping to gesture to her store.

"What, this place?" He eyed the storefront. It was much larger than her store in muggle London, though it wasn't showy or loud like some of the other large stores in Hogsmeade.

Without replying, Hermione pushed the door open and felt an overwhelming sense of contentment as soon as she entered. The store was large, usually manned by 20 or so workers at time. Every section had it's own employee to oversee, ensuring there was always help available to customers throughout the store. The bookshelves were high and wide, with sliding ladders that were primarily used by children to reach the upper shelves – most adult wizards simply summoned any high books with a spell, but as kids weren't allowed to use magic (and because Hermione had really, really wanted sliding ladders to fulfill her own childhood fantasies), they gladly made use of them, even if they didn't really need a book and just wanted to play. There were plenty of armchairs scattered about, and Hermione even had a small, self-serve stand where customers could purchase tea or coffee (something Harry had deemed "overkill").

"Damn," Malfoy let out a low whistle. "It's like a Granger wet-dream."

Hermione was about to pull out her wand and put a Silencing Spell on him when the Head Manager distracted her.

"Hermione, how are you?" It was Anya, a confident muggle-born witch a few years older than Hermione who had studied business and finance at a muggle university at the urging of her parents. Hiring her to run the main branch of her chain, a job which also entailed supervising the managers at the others stores, had been a no-brainer.

"Great! How's everything here?"

Hermione dutifully listened as Anya gave her a run-down on how everything was running perfectly, but her attention started to drift when she noticed Malfoy had wandered over the Potions section. He studied the books on one of the shelves for a minute or two before grabbing a heavy volume and sinking into an armchair to look through it.

Hermione thought back to Hogwarts – Malfoy had been in most of her Potions classes, and he had been pretty good at the subject. She hadn't paid enough attention to him to know if he was as good as her – he was better than Harry and Ron, and he had gotten into N.E.W.T. level Potions, even if he stopped paying much attention that year. Sitting the armchair and pouring through that book, Hermione had to wonder if he perhaps regretted slacking off in all those classes that year.

"Those books on the Salem trials have been flying off the shelves so we'll probably need to restock – Hermione, are you listening?"

"What? Yeah! I mean, what were you saying?" Hermione flushed with embarrassment.

Anya glanced over to where Hermione had been staying. "Who is that?"

"Oh, just a friend," Hermione stammered, shuffling her feet.

"Just a friend?" Anya replied with raised eyebrows. "He's quite an attractive friend."

"Let's go over those inventory papers," Hermione said quickly, pretending to adjust her watch to hide her continued embarrassment. After one more glance over at Malfoy, Hermione hurried after Anya.

Hermione cleared her throat, causing Malfoy to start a little.

"About time," he grumbled, quickly recovering.

"It was less than half an hour," Hermione replied haughtily, adjusting her stack of papers. "And you seemed occupied enough."

Malfoy looked down at the book he'd been immersed in. "Yeah, well, I needed something to do."

"Do you want that?" Hermione asked, gesturing at the book.

Malfoy stared at the book for a moment. "This ruddy book? I don't think so," he scoffed, slamming the book shut. "It was nice to make fun of for a bit."

Hermione eyed him as he stood up, not buying his insolence. "Ready to go then?"

With a nod, Malfoy brushed past her to put the book on the shelf, hesitating a bit before sliding it back into place and staring at it for a few moments.

Hermione didn't miss the slightly strained expression on Malfoy's face as he turned back to her. "Oh, for Merlin's sake," Hermione snapped, marching up to the shelf and tearing the book back off the shelf. "You're the biggest prat on the earth, I swear!"

Malfoy didn't reply, but he couldn't hide his satisfaction.

"Anya, I'm taking this copy of Potions for the Inquisitive and Easily Amused Wizard!" Hermione shouted as she stomped past the front counter, Malfoy at her heels.

"You!" Hermione whirled on Malfoy as soon as they were out the door. "Why do you have to be so difficult about everything?"

"You make it so much fun that I can't resist myself," he replied smoothly.

Hermione ignored him. "Come on, let's go back to the station."

"Why can't we just leave from here?"

"Because," Hermione said, adjusting the book and papers in her arms, struggling slightly to keep it all from falling. "I like to get a last look at Hogwarts before I leave."

Malfoy plucked the book out of her arms before replying. "So sentimental. Alright, if you insist."

Hermione couldn't help but feel a bit pleased as they walked back towards the train station. There hadn't been any meltdowns and Malfoy had only had a quick bout of temper at the beginning. Malfoy expressing interest in Potions had been a nice surprise as well. Hermione decided that she could officially mark the day a success.

"Hasn't changed much, has it?" Malfoy remarked as Hogwarts came into view. "The rebuilding went quite swimmingly, I heard."

"Yes, the repairs put everything back nearly exactly the same," Hermione answered, referring the post-battle reconstruction that she had helped with. "It was quite fun, really."

"You miss it?"

"All the time," Hermione sighed wistfully. "There were definitely some rough patches, but some of the best times of my life were at Hogwarts." With a pang Hermione thought of nights around the common room fire with Harry and Ron; though her life had been considerably more challenging while at Hogwarts, the memories of their friendship outweighed it all. That hadn't always been smooth sailing either, but they always came back together.

With another pang at the thought of the recent confrontation with Ron, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the days of unbreakable friendship were over.

Hermione sighed again before turning to Malfoy, who she realized had been watching her, and inexplicably sad expression covering his face.

"What?

"Nothing," he blinked, looking away from her. "You didn't have to get this book for me, you know."

"I figured it might help you do something other than sit around on my couch and play those blasted video games that you're so terrible at," Hermione said. After he had successfully hooked up the stupid console (aka, had Hermione use her wand to put it together), Malfoy had proceeded to be awful at every game he had purchased. Hermione, being familiar with muggle technology, had initially been amused by this, especially since Malfoy thought he was quite good at the games. Eventually, though, her amusement at his expense at turned to annoyed boredom.

"I'm not making any potions, Granger," Malfoy said seriously.

"Why not?"

Malfoy looked down at his feet, but he didn't reply.

"You think you won't be good at it or you still don't want to get back into magic?"

"A little of both, I guess," he answered, still looking at the ground.

"Well, you were afraid to come here and you did that," Hermione said gently. "Was it as bad as you thought it would be?"

Malfoy sighed, picking his head up to look at the castle behind her. "No, it wasn't," he said reluctantly. "Not that I'm not still mad at you for making me come," he added.

"You could have said no."

He didn't respond.

"Come on, it wasn't bad. And you don't really need magic to make potions anyway," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, maybe..."

"I'll do them with you, even. It'll be fun," Hermione said. "Unless, that is, you're afraid I'll be better at it than you?"

Malfoy actually smiled at her. "In your dreams, Granger."

A/N: So it was a borderline filler chapter, but it had to be there because I have a rule of not putting EVENT chapters two in a row. Unless it's the climax of the story, which this is not. But alas! That means the next chapter is an EVENT chapter! And, best of all, it's largely already written. In fact, I wrote the next chapter MONTHS ago, before I even started this chapter. So yeah, that means a quick update is in store. Bonus points go to whoever realized the manager Anya was named after the one and only Anya Jenkins of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (when in doubt of what to name people, I tend to resort to Buffyverse character names).

As always, reviews are mightily appreciated, even when used to simply express dissatisfaction with the pacing of updates.