"Well done, Malfoy!" Goldenrod nodded her approval as she examined a man's healed arm. "You're rather proficient at healing breaks now."

The man said his thanks as Goldenrod ushered him towards the lobby. "No problem, sir. All in a day's work." She waved goodbye.

Draco dipped his quill into the ink and finished up the chart. "It wasn't too hard to fix, but I don't think he's going to try riding two brooms at once again."

In spite of himself, Draco was in rather a good mood. His tests with the salamander skin was coming along, Goldenrod had solved the problem of the skin sliding off by suggesting Rowan sap. He felt he was a few tweaks away from a completed product, from being able to give it to Hermione. His internship was drawing to a close and his skills with healing had been noticeable getting better, Goldenrod encouraging him along like a hovering mother bird. He also had managed to get the ghoul out of the attic and was sleeping better. The nightmares were still frequent but he found he was able to fall asleep eventually after them.

"You look cheery." Goldenrod narrowed her eyes at him as they walked back to the waiting room for another patient. "Is it a girl?"

"Hm, what? No, no." Draco stammered. "Just a good day."

"Hm, well, good for you." She said with a curt nod. "You look less ghostly." She peeked into the room they would use. "Why don't you go ahead and get the patient, I'll go prep the room, I think there may be some feathers in here still."

Draco nodded taking the clipboard from here and pushing the door open with his foot. The waiting room was half full of people holding various injuries. Draco glanced down at the parchment. "Zacharias Smith."

A young blonde man stood up and then stopped as he caught sight of Draco. "I'm not going anywhere with you." He declared in a loud voice. "Snake."

Draco looked at him over the chart he was holding. "Excuse me?"

The man drew himself up, cringing slightly and cradling a badly burnt arm. "You heard me, Slytherin."

"You must have been in Gryffindor." Draco drawled dryly.

"Hufflepuff." Zacharias sniffed. "But I know who you are, you're one of them! I wouldn't let you touch me even it meant my arm would fall off. There's no way I'm letting a Death Eater like you near me!" He was talking so loudly the whole room was turning to watch.

Draco felt hot fury wash over him all at once. "If you are uncomfortable with your healer-" He started, keeping his voice calm despite the urge to yank out his wand.

"What are you even doing here? You, a healer?! Trying to finish off muggle-borns, I bet. Still trying to finish your dead master's work?!" Zacharias's voice was rising in volume and pitch. "A death eater is always a death eater, murderer!"

There was a deadly silence in the room. Draco's impassive face and Zacharias's furious one faced each other across the room. "You killed my friends." Zacharias finished in an angry whisper that carried across the room.

"What is going on here?!" Goldenrod burst into the room behind Draco. "Who is disturbing the whole hospital?!"

Draco's eyes flickered around the room. Some people looked confused and alarmed, but he could see others. They were looking back at him with hardened eyes. "A Malfoy." He heard someone mutter. One mother drew her daughter closer to her side, eyeing Draco with fear. They hadn't forgotten. Draco's good mood evaporated into vapor, replaced with a cold, empty pit in his stomach. He could feel his left arm burning so much he thought his sleeve might catch fire.

"Why don't you go, Draco." Goldenrod whispered in his ear. "I'll take care of this."

Draco nodded, handed over the clipboard, turned on his heels and disappeared back down the hall without a backwards glance.

He spent the rest of the shift restocking the supply closet, numbness spreading through his fingers. Goldenrod came to find him after a while, but didn't say anything except that he was free to leave. And leave he did.

Draco held the glass loosely in one hand, head leaned back over the back of the couch, feet sprawled in front of him. There was a trail of a coat, shoes, socks and briefcase that lead from the back door to the library where he sat. He hadn't taken a drink, he had pulled out the bottle he saved for the darker moments, had poured it and left it, staring at the colorless liquid dancing with the firelight. He couldn't blame them, He really couldn't hold it against them, as much as he wanted to loosen their teeth when they hissed insults in his direction, they were right. He may hate them for it, resent the people who brought it up, but he was a death eater. He shifted his attention back up the family portrait, his mother smiled back down at him. The only reason he wasn't in Azkaban with his father was because his mother had appealed to the courts for him. He was underaged for half of the war and for the rest, she claimed, he did nothing except be in the wrong company. Draco sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, this was the way his life had been, this was the way his life would be, except for…

There was a loud banging on the front door. Draco growled with annoyance, what now? The banging stopped and a few seconds later, the back door opened.

"Draco?!"

Draco slouched lower on the couch. Of course it was her, when he wanted to yell and scream and abuse someone, the one person to find him was the one he couldn't win an argument with. He wished Crabbe and Goyle were still around, they had been great punching bags.

There were footsteps along the hall and Hermione appeared, breathing hard, hair flying around the doorway. "You're here!"

"What is it?" He asked in a bored tone.

She looked a little stung at his cold greeting. "I….I wanted to make sure you were ok. George told me what happened."

"Oh?" He asked flatly.

"He gave himself unstoppable hiccups testing a new joke, he was in the waiting room and saw it happen." She said breathlessly.

"Well, I'm fine." Draco drawled. "No need to break into my house."

"The back door was open." She walked into the room, scrutinizing him. "I thought, I thought you would be more upset."

Draco looked up at her as she approached. "Sorry to disappoint you." He looked back at the fire. "It's not an uncommon occurrence, you get use to it." He said lightly.

"What?" Hermione gasped. "How often does that happen?!"

Draco shrugged. "Well, people don't stand up and scream 'Death Eater' at me but the looks, the cold shoulders, crossing to the other side of the road... Probably about once per outing."

Hermione looked horrified, her mouth slightly open. Draco gave a snort of laughter. "Really, you shouldn't be so surprised. You thought people would just kiss and makeup because the war was over?" He set down his untouched glass and rubbed his stinging left arm. "People don't forget, people don't forgive."

Hermione stood silently for a minute, watching him in disbelief before sinking to sit down next to him on the couch. "They can." She said quietly. "We can."

Draco tried to not look like he was inching away from her on the couch, trying to put distance between them.

"You already apologized to me, and I already accept your apology. It can happen."

Draco rubbed his cheek as he remembered. "I wasn't sure that was sincere, it felt a little backhanded." He muttered.

Hermione managed a small smile. "It was sincere. Harry was the one to bring it up. After the war, he changed quite a lot, I noticed. He was much less like his rash teenage self and more... more like Dumbledore was. Calm and peaceful. He felt that reaching out to you after everything that happened, might help everyone mend. I think he sensed regret in you, he told us what happened on the Astronomy tower. Harry believed you could be brought around. He was the one who told Teddy about you and made Teddy want to meet you." She said quietly.

Draco felt slightly shocked, but it wore away after he thought back to his conversation with Potter in the study, he supposed it made sense. Still, it was odd feeling, knowing all the changes that had happened to him since Teddy's birthday had been because of Harry. "You…." Draco folded his hands and examined the pattern on the carpet. "The lot of you, are the exception." He said finally. "For some reason, you seem able to...to look past my actions before." He glanced up at the portrait. "The world is not the same. They see me for what I am, a death eater, a criminal."

Hermione suddenly smacked him over the head with a book nearby.

"Ow!" Draco rubbed his head glaring at her sourly. "What was that for you-"

"I always restrained myself from hitting Harry over the head when he would wallow in his own misery. I couldn't resist this once." She smiled slightly, running her hands over the letters on the cover. "You were a death eater, Draco. You were a horrible classmate, you were selfish, you were a bigot, you were a bully, you were conceited, you thought far too highly of your looks-"

"Hey!"

"-You were an arrogant little bastard of a pureblood." She finished the insults with a flourish.

"I'll have you write my eulogy." Draco growled darkly, his pale eyes spitting fire.

"But you're not anymore." Hermione reached over and put her hand over his. "You've changed a lot in the past year. you've started accepting people who reach out to you, you've become a healer, you beat someone half to death for insulting a muggleborn, you've befriended a werewolf's baby and your bitterest rival. Just because the world hasn't been around to see those changes doesn't mean they haven't happened." She paused, flushing a little. "You wouldn't have let me touch you a year ago, you would have yelled something about a filthy mudblood and set me on fire."

Draco's mouth twitched upwards slightly.

She withdrew her hand, fiddling with the book again. "The world may not have moved on, but you have, and there are people who know it. And, well, we're here for you when you need us." She finished quickly, turning even pinker.

Draco felt several feelings cluttering together in his chest, embarrassment for her praise, pleasure that she had been keeping an eye on him, disbelief that she thought that much of him, annoyance that he had been compared to a moody teeanger, and curiosity of why she looked so flustered.

While he was still sorting through the tangled threads of thought, he saw her pick the drink up and toss it back before he could stop her. "Wait!" Was out of his mouth three seconds too late.

She looked alarmed and confused. "What was that?"

"Absinthe." Draco said numbly, his jaw on the floor.

She looked suddenly horrified. "I thought it was water!"

"Didn't you taste it?!" He said incredulously.

"I drank it so fast." She said, her eyes widening. "Oh, no."

Draco stood quickly, the tangle of feelings forgotten. "We should get you home, before it kicks in."

"Isn't there a potion to counteract alcohol?" She asked. From the expression on her face you would have thought she had drank a deadly poison.

"Not that I have on hand, it also takes a week to brew." Draco collected up his coat. "Come on, you don't want to try to apparate while drunk, it's not fun and usually ends in splicing."

They apparated into an alley nearby her flat, after a minute, it was clear the alcohol was taking affect on her lightweight tolerance. She giggled as they were climbing the stairs to her flat. "Stairs are so funny, why do they always have such big holes, you could fall right through it." She slipped slightly, Draco steadied her by the elbow and ushered her upwards, trying not to enjoy himself too much; at least she wasn't a belligerent drunk, it hurt when she hit.

She fumbled for the key in her pocket. "I think it turned into dust." She said with a snort of laughter.

Draco pulled his wand out of his pocket. "Accio key." a silver key flew out of her pocket and he barely caught it before it disappeared over the landing.

"You caught the snitch!" She laughed. "Harry would be so proud."

"Yeah, you keep laughing, Granger. You'll sing a different song in the morning." Draco muttered as he unlocked the door.

He helped her to the couch, filled a mug from the sink and thrust it into her hands. "Drink, you'll need some water in your system."

He felt suddenly cold, something wanted to hurt him. He spun around to find Crookshanks sitting on the counter, glaring at Draco with malice, a growl issuing from his furry throat.

"It wasn't my fault!" Draco snapped. "I didn't think she would drink it."

Crookshanks only stared at Draco with accusatory eyes.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione dragged her cat off the counter and into her arms. "You're so fluffy." She buried her face in the fur. "Why can't men be fluffy like you?"

Draco thought briefly of Hagrid, he thought the giant fit the description nicely. He looked around the kitchen. "Where do you keep your potion ingredients?" He asked opening a cupboard.

"A chest in the corner of my room." She said absentmindedly. "Why is Ravenclaw's mascot an eagle and not a raven? It seems an obvious oversight, I wonder if anyone else noticed."

Draco cracked a small smile as he walked over to the bedroom, he burst out laughing when he opened the door. It was just as he had imagined, books neatly stacked around the headboard and the foot the bed, it looked like there was only a gap where she climbed into bed.

"What?" Hermione jumped up and skidded to a halt next to him. "Did I forget to pick up?"

Draco caught her before she hit the wall next to them. "Careful. No, it just, you must like your nighttime reading." He spotted the ingredients chest in the corner, he rummaged around until he found the ones he was looking for. He had become quite experienced in a few hangover cures in the past couple years.

He turned back to the door, Hermione was looking at him with an odd expression.

"What?"

"You laughed."

Draco blinked. "Yeah, so?"

"I don't think I've ever heard you laugh, well, laugh nicely. You laughed meanly a lot at school."

Draco felt his neck heat up and his heart squirmed painfully, he realized the whole room smelled like cinnamon. He brushed past her into the kitchen. "Well, there you go." He muttered hastily.

He mixed together the potion on her stove, Hermione sat on a stool asking random questions, making odd comments and laughing at her own words frequently. It wasn't the worst drinking experience someone could have, Draco thought. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he turned off the heat. She looked flushed and her hair was flying in all directions, but she looked happy. The Slytherin in him wanted to convince her to go downstairs and try out all the joke boxes, he had a feeling it would be entertainment to last a lifetime. The healer in him tut-tutted the idea and reminded him of the wrath and fury that was sure to follow such an abusement of trust. His eyes slid over her face and down to her leggings. The Slytherin in him said this was a perfect time to make a move; something scaly purred in his chest at the idea. There was always the memory charm, she didn't have to remember a thing. Draco slammed the door on the thought forcefully, panicked he had even thought about it. He quickly looked back down at the blueish potion forcing his mind back to reality.

"Thanks." He said suddenly.

"Hm?" Hermione smiled. "What for?"

"For what you said earlier." Draco said quietly.

She looked alarmed. "What did I say? Was it nice?"

Draco smiled and laughed quietly. "Yeah, it was nice."

"Oh, good." She laughed with relief. She yawned.

Draco poured the potion into an empty bottle and capped it. "Right, I think you should lie down, you'll probably be out till tomorrow morning." He placed the bottle on her bed stand and wrote a quick note telling her what it was.

She followed, rubbing her eyes. "Thanks for your help." She mumbled. Before Draco could block her, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "You're nice sometimes."

Draco froze and then hastily pulled her off. "Um, thanks, I guess." He backed out of the room quickly and closed the door. He groaned silently and leaned against the door, he was starting to lose it. He quietly cleaned the mess he had made in the kitchen, watched by the malevolent cat. He was finished and pulling on his coat when something on the couch caught his eye. It was the book she had gotten from Ginny for Christmas. He glanced at the closed bedroom door. He had behaved himself, he deserved a little snooping, just to see what had embarrassed her so much at Christmas, if it was still in the book. He slipped over to the couch and flicked open the book, she was using something square as a bookmark, he turned it over.

The picture didn't register at first, he stared at it for several seconds before he realized he was looking at himself. Draco felt the blood in his body freeze and change directions. It was him, smiling down at James in his arms, the picture Ginny had taken at breakfast. Draco thought about moving, but the nerves in his legs had abandoned post and were residing in his pounding heart. Why did she have this? Why had Ginny given it to her? Why…..why…..no….no. He blinked. The scaly thing in his chest was clawing at his ribs and roaring something he couldn't understand. He couldn't understand it, he didn't get it. But. He looked back down at the picture. But, there it was. He glanced back at the bedroom door and then back at the photo. She couldn't…...