A/N:Everything, except the stuff you don't recognize, belongs to JK Rowling and her utter genius.

A/N: Well, my avid readers…welcome to part two.

Chapter Twelve: Letters

Part II

Six Years Later

Hermione sat in her office at the Ministry of Magic. Considering that it was her last day there, any young witch would have loved to be in her shoes. Unfortunately, that was the last thing on her mind. Morosely she looked at the picture on her desk taken five years earlier at her graduation from Hogwarts. Three smiling graduates waved at her from the frame and she smiled at them sadly. She hadn't seen her friends in five years.

It had been the very same day that picture had been taken. Malfoy, who had somehow managed to escape from Snape and aid the good side, had made a last ditch attempt to beg for her forgiveness…

Hermione smiled brightly at what had to be the tenth camera and put her face next to Ron's. After all they'd been through they were finally graduating. Since their joint efforts to finally defeat Voldemort, everyone wanted to take their picture. She could remember very few times when she'd been this happy, so smiling so much came easily. Besides, she knew there were many more happy times to come now that they were finally free of Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

In fact, all was well with the world. Snape had lost his soul when he'd been caught, rightfully so after all he'd done, and most of the Death Eaters were safely housed in Azkaban's finest cells. There were only about twenty that were successfully evading the authorities, Narcissa Malfoy among them. Malfoy…

Her smile dimmed at the thought of that name. He'd been plaguing her and her thoughts all year. True, she'd done her fair share of tormenting him like everyone else for the past year, but he'd tormented her without even knowing it. He'd betrayed her, hadn't he? Betrayed her trust, her love? She'd asked herself the question too many times, and, yet, she had no answer.

Then there he was, almost out of nowhere, two meters away. Their eyes locked and Hermione's pulsed began to race. Don't come over hear, her mind yelled at him, not now when I'm almost rid of you. But he moved toward her. She turned in the opposite direction; she had to get away from him.

"Hermione!" he yelled after her; she continued to walk. But he apparently wasn't giving up that easily. "Hermione, stop!"

Hermione stopped, closed her eyes and inhaled. Everyone was looking at them now, and she couldn't stop him. But she would try. "Malfoy, don't do this, please," she pleaded in a low whisper.

He stepped closer in an effort to give them a semblance of privacy. "Stop lying to yourself, Hermione, that's all I ask."

Over her shoulder she could see Ron look at Harry and ask, "Since when did hecall her Hermione?" They walked closer and Ron spoke. "What're you playing at Malfoy?"

"Hermione, you know you're just dating him to hurt me. I love you!" He yelled desperately.

If everyone hadn't been listening before, they were listening after that. Ron and Harry looked at her simultaneously with astonishment and agony in their eyes. "Hermione?"

A tear ran down her cheek, she knew it was the end. It was then that she lost everything…

He'd caused it, every succeeding argument and event had been his fault. Maybe if he'd asked in private she might have considered it, but he'd done it in front of everyone. Her darkest secret laid out for all to know.

All the proud Slytherin had gotten was a black eye and a severely bruised ego, but Hermione had lost everything. Harry and Ron found out about her sordid affair and realized that she alone could have prevented Dumblebore's death if only she would have gotten information from Malfoy, something Draco had almost wanted in the first place. At that point, she hadn't even tried to defend herself. She doubted they could have understood.

After that she hadn't spoken to any of them. With the exception of the twins, the Weasley family, including Harry since his marriage to Ginny, had made it very clear that they wanted nothing to do with her. Harry even worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which was three floors above hers, as an Auror, but the few times they'd passed each other in the halls, he'd completely ignored her. She knew she was dead to them.

But that was the past. The walls of her office were covered with awards and achievements that she'd gained on her own…without them.

The door to her office opened and Zofia came through, holding a letter in her hand. "This was in your tray," she explained. "I though I'd fetch it for you."

"Cheers," she smiled, taking the letter. Zofia was her only remaining friend from Hogwarts, not that she'd had many to begin with, but everyone else had sided with their beloved hero. Their hero who would have died many times over was it not for me, she thought.

As she opened the letter absentmindedly, she immediately recognized the handwriting and the almost indiscernible signature. "Malfoy," she spat.

Zofia arched a ginger eyebrow at her. "It's that time again?"

After five years she knew she should be used to it, but somehow the inconspicuous letter always seemed to quicken her pulse. "I've got to stop this," she decided firmly.

"How exactly do you plan on doing that? I mean, you really think he'll stop after five years?" Zofia pointed out skeptically.

Hermione looked down bashfully. "I've never actually told him to stop. I've always just ignored him, hoping he'd give up someday," she admitted. The truth was she was afraid of what would happen if he said the things he wrote to her face.

"Hmm, he's sent you those letters religiously every two months for the past five years and you thought he was going to just up and quit?"

Hermione stood up and defended herself; "I don't want to see him, alright?"

Zofia sighed and gave her a sympathetic smile. "I don't think you have a choice, Love"

"Might as well do it now," sighed Hermione as she walked out of her office. The Department of Magical Games and Sports was on the seventh level, a level Hermione had always found best to avoid. Today, though, it was her destination. She figured that since they'd no longer be working in the same building, today was the most ideal day to confront him. Whether or not that was true was still to be seen.

The door to the lift opened and her courage almost failed. The last two people in the world she wanted to see stood there smiling, hand in hand. Harry's smile dimmed as she stepped in beside them. She could tell by the look on their faces that she only confirmed their suspicions when she designated the seventh floor as her destination. It figured, the first time she'd gone to confront Malfoy and they had to be in the lift with her. Luckily, she was only going down two floors, so the tense ride was short.

When the door reopened, she was so focused on leaving that she ran straight into someone waiting to get on. Someone with the palest hair she'd ever seen. "Malfoy," she nearly spat when she registered who it was.

He, on the other hand, softly breathed her name, "Hermione…?"

"I need to talk to you," she explained with forced civility, "privately."

Hope flashed in his eyes, but only for an instant. Her voice might have been even enough, but he could recognize the cold glint in her eyes. "We can talk in my office," he told her discreetly. "Follow me."

As she followed him through the department, some of her determination was eroded away by the submissive manner in which he led her. Just by the small interaction they'd had, she could tell he'd changed since graduation. No doubt it had to do with the utter contempt that the Malfoy name now invoked in everyone. Considering that Narcissa was still a renegade Death Eater and Lucius was forever in Azkaban, there wasn't a free soul in the Wizarding world that looked up to the Malfoys as the ideal family now.

Malfoy's office was exactly the same as hers, official and void of personal touches. Closing the door behind her, he sat on the edge of his desk and looked at her expectantly. "So?"

"You've got to stop," she commanded bluntly.

"What're you—"

"Don't be thick, Malfoy," she cut him off. "Stop sending me letters. I have felt nothing but the deepest loathing for you for the past six years."

He didn't say anything. He just sat there on the edge of his desk and bore into her with his turbulent eyes. She hadn't felt so transparent in a very long time.

Six years, Draco thought as he looked at her. He hadn't held her in his arms, or completely caught her off guard by kissing her in six years. In fact, the last time they'd had any physical contact he'd ended up with a black eye for two weeks. But as he watched her begin to shift uncomfortably under his intense gaze, he began to understand the real reason she'd remained aloof. "Really?" he asked purposefully.

Her response was delayed and defensive, "Yes,"

"Uh huh,"

A new fervor lit her eyes as she stared at him with flared nostrils. "Just stop!" she yelled and left his office, slamming the door in her wake.

"DAMNIT!" he yelled and kicked a huge hole in the front of his desk. Through the window of his office he could see Hermione stop and wince. Strike two.

* * * *

Hermione ran her hands over the smooth leather of her new office chair. Inhaling deeply, she breathed in the scent of her new establishment. She was the boss now. The store was hers to do with as she'd pleased. She couldn't stop smiling.

She had been at the store in Hogsmeade since daybreak. When she'd apparated outside of the store, she'd been thrilled to find the storeroom filled with the books she'd ordered to fill the shelves.

It was nearly one o'clock in the afternoon and the front room had been arranged and rearranged until it was perfect. She sat in her office behind the counter and just smiled. For the first time in maybe six years she was truly happy.

As she sat there in her daydreams, she began to hear a hollow tapping. When she left her office she saw a tiny owl furiously pecking on her window. Hermione opened the door, but the tiny owl continued to peck the window until she took hold of it. After she untied its equally tiny burden, she was surprised to see it fly back to the Hogsmeade post office. Even more curiously, though, was that the bit of parchment was blank.

When she turned back to her shop her heart nearly leapt out of her chest with fright. Leaning against the building, a clever smirk playing at his lips, was Malfoy. "Good afternoon, Hermione."

She replied tersely, "Well, it was."

Hermione turned on her heels and walked back into her store, Malfoy following silently in her wake. She'd never invited him in, but at that time he didn't really care.

"How did you know I was here?" she questioned tensely as she pretended to rearrange a display.

"There was an advertisement in my tray."

"I meant now."

"Uh," he hesitated. "I knew you'd be here now because you over prepare for everything."

She couldn't disagree with that. Again, she felt extremely transparent, even though her back was turned. "What do you want?"

He scoffed. "After six years, I'd think you'd know."

Inhaling deeply, she summoned up the courage to face him. "What will it take for you to stop?"

He considered her question. In truth, he'd almost been hoping she'd ask that kind of question because he knew exactly what it would take. "A date," he answered after a few moments.

She snorted, "A date?"

"Yes," he nodded. "You go on one date with me and I will stop…if you want," he added.

"I will," she assured him quickly. "If I go on one date with you, you'll stop?"

"That's the proposition."

She looked him over with a sour expression. "Fine, but only one," she stressed.

Draco worked to contain his excitement and managed to simply give her a curt nod. "I'll pick you up at ten tomorrow morning."

Her mouth fell open in horror. "Ten in the morning?" she screeched. "That's not a date!"

"Yes, it is," he combated calmly. "It's an all day date."

Crossing her arms defiantly, "I refuse," was the only thing she could spit out.

"Good, see you at ten." He flashed a smile and swept out the door. He was going to be there promptly at ten if she was ready or not. He'd finally gotten the chance he'd been waiting for, and somehow he knew one chance was all he needed.