Welcome back, everyone! Thank you for your patience with the chapter delay. I had some dental work done and needed a break. PLUS! This chapter is going to be longer and wonderful. So there's a nice treat for you guys for waiting! Enjoy!

TheMissMegan

Everyone's heads quickly flashed to the pompous voice coming from the kitchen. Draco was leaning against the counter next to Molly and George, his arms crossed over his chest; he looked comfortable like he belonged there. He wore a dark blue sweater with a large D sewn on the front. It appeared as if he'd slipped it on over a dress shirt because he had a crisp, white collar sticking out of the top.

Hermione's pulse hammered in her veins. She wasn't sure what to even say to him; her emotions were all over the place. This was the last place she expected to ever run into him.

And even though the anger she felt towards him for having betrayed her trust was at the forefront of her mind, she also felt the lonely absence of having him around the house just as strongly. But the mere thought of missing him seemed preposterous. She grew a bit frustrated at herself for even daring to think of it. She let her anger eclipse the hurt. She had to if she wanted to get through this dinner.

When his gray eyes wouldn't leave hers, as if having an unannounced staring contest, she decided to be the bigger person and look away first. It might seem like a sign of weakness but she didn't care, she couldn't look at him any longer for fear her resolve would slip.

"Why don't we all have a seat?" Molly suggested, looking fidgety. The tension in the room was felt by most as they greeted George and Malfoy. But the children helped break it with their loud chatter.

"Auntie 'Mione? Sit next to me?" Dominique asked, tugging at Hermione's sleeve. She looked down at the little girl with her ocean eyes and nodded.

"Sure, darling." She chose a spot and Dominique plopped down in the seat next to her.

Never in a million years did Hermione imagine Draco coming back to the Burrow. Especially of his own volition. George must have invited him. How unfortunate considering Hermione had decided to never see him again. Was she in for weekly viewings of him now that he was friends with most of her family? Even Molly seemed to like him if the Weasley sweater was any indication. It irritated her to no end. She was so looking forward to things going back to how they used to be...

She became irritated when he took the seat directly opposite of her. She had a feeling he did it on purpose. Probably to make her uncomfortable or wary. It was working. And it was pissing her off.

"I want to sit with Aunt Hermione, too!" Teddy demanded. Harry smiled at his Godson and shrugged.

"I'll move down a chair from her if you're polite about it," Harry suggested.

"Please, Harry? I never see her anymore." Teddy begged as he held his folded hands in front of his face, stuck out his lower lip and make puppy-dog eyes. Hermione's heart swelled at seeing him vie for her attention. Harry laughed and moved down a chair.

"Teddy, I presume?" Draco asked. Teddy looked at the man addressing him and smiled.

"Yes. And you're my cousin, Draco." He said chipperly. Draco's head shot back in surprise that the child seemed to know who he was.

"Who told you that, Teddy?" Hermione asked.

"Andromeda has tons of family albums," Harry mentioned.

"I'm in her family albums?" Draco asked, disbelief still apparent.

"Of course, dear. You're her nephew. She has many photos of you and your whole family throughout your life. It wasn't her idea that she not have contact with you," Molly said, trying to sound polite. "Being a Black sister, it'd be strange if she didn't keep extensive family albums."

"Grandma Andy said you were a good boy," Teddy said and smiled cheesily. Hermione snorted but kept her mouth shut. Draco glanced at her warily.

"Can I have tater tots?" Dominique asked randomly, pushing her plate filled with pot roast away. Hermione shook her head.

"Grandma made pot roast. We have boiled potatoes, though, would you like some?"

"Nope. I only eat tater tots. I don't like Grandma's potatoes." The little girl insisted. The muggle food was something she and Harry had introduced the children to a few years prior when they'd stayed at Harry's house for a weekend. Now they always wanted something or other that was muggle food related.

"Dominique," Bill warned. Fluer eyed the girl as well. Dominique withered a little under her mothers stare.

"It's alright, love," Molly said, looking at Dominique. "I made you some tots from scratch. They're at this end of the table."

Ever the spoiling grandmother, she came around and plopped some lumpy looking potatoes on each of the kids' plates. Hermione stifled a giggle at how unlike tater tots they actually looked. The kids didn't seem to mind, though, and started gobbling them up.

"You spoil them," Fleur voiced what Hermione was thinking. The beautiful witch didn't seem unhappy about that fact, though. Molly may be overbearing at times but she was a fierce family member. It had taken the women some time to become close, but Hermione knew Fleur adored her mother in law.

"It's a grandmothers job," Molly agreed.

They all dug into their meals. Polite chatter about everyone's lives and jobs and children kept up most of the conversation. Hermione only spoke when the children on either side talked to her about something or other. She still refused to acknowledge Malfoy or the looks he kept trying to sneak her way.

Halfway through dinner, George, the troublemaker that he was, spoke of the elephant in the room.

"So, are you two going to tell us why you're not speaking? Or why Malfoy had to come and stay with me?"

"No." Hermione said simply and took another bite of roast. It was delicious, as always.

"I'm not so sure she even knows the real reason," Malfoy said haughtily. Hermione glared at him, giving him eye contact for the first time during the meal. His tone spoke anger but his eyes looked simmered in comparison.

"I know exactly why." She said and looked away again.

"You only think you know. You really have no idea." He countered, sounding close to anger.

"William? Maybee eetz time to go 'ome?" Fleur said. Bill nodded, sensing the tension rising.

"Sorry Mum, we'll come around earlier next week," Bill said and picked up Louis from Molly's lap and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Please, don't leave on Malfoy's account," Hermione said angrily. "I hardly get to spend time with you guys these days."

"We'll see you again next week." Bill insisted. After the war, Fleur hated being around any type of quarrel. She also preferred the children not be present when anyone was having a row. She and Bill dreamed of the kids growing up without the same animosity they had to endure and did everything they could to teach them how to problem solve in a kind, respectful manner. Hermione respected the hell out of them for it but it sometimes made family functions a little shorter than usual.

Molly levitated a container with leftovers into Fleur's hands and kissed the children goodbye. The kids all made their goodbyes to Hermione and their Uncles and the little family exited out the back door into the night.

Hermione flashed a cold look at Malfoy, hating him for cutting her time short with her family.

"What is wrong with you?" She demanded. Malfoy didn't say anything. His glare didn't hold as much fervor as hers did.

"Now, Hermione, you don't have to be so brash," Molly said.

"Me? He's the one who made this dinner uncomfortable!" She said. "Why did you come here?" She demanded Malfoy to tell her, shaking her head.

"I wanted to talk to you," He said coolly. "I don't like where we left things."

"It's because of you that we're not friends anymore!" She insisted. Teddy stood up.

"What did you do to my Aunt Hermione?" He asked, his hair turning fire engine red. Malfoy held up his hands in a submissive gesture.

"I didn't do anything to your Hermione, I promise. We just had a slight disagreement, that's all." He said to the boy. Harry put a hand on Teddy's arm to calm him and sent him upstairs. He went grudgingly, his hair was still a magenta color before he disappeared.

"Slight disagreement? You practically called my novel trash! Those notes were horrendous, Malfoy!" Hermione accused once Teddy was well out of earshot.

"They weren't even my notes!" Malfoy raised his voice, the frustration seeping off of him. She paused.

"What?" Hermione asked, sounding as confused as everyone else looked. Malfoy shook his head slightly, looking down at his abandoned roast.

"The copy of your book with the red pen marks? That was your first draft. Those were Charlotte's notes. I had them sent to me for comparison." He said, seeming to reign in his temper.

"Charlotte's notes?" Hermione felt confused. And then she felt thoroughly embarrassed when Malfoy nodded in confirmation. She stood up, wiped her face on her napkin, and excused herself, unable to make eye contact with anyone.

Hermione fled to the backyard. The evening had darkened the skies. The clouds were a dark purple color that seemed to reflect her mood.

When she tried to recall going into Malfoy's room that day, she remembered being so set on the notes she found that she didn't even notice how different the book seemed. All she could see was red. Literally.

And it was that thought that brought her to the realization that Draco had been right: she had been looking for any excuse not to trust him. In her heart, she felt her stubbornness lift a little. She knew she had to apologize but... how could she ever make amends? She had treated him exactly how he used to treat her in school; she doubted his character and judged him for something he couldn't quite control.

He had been a child when he had called her a mudblood and tormented her.

She was a full grown adult who knew better.

Her mistrust led her down a totally avoidable path.

"Hey," His voice said softly behind her a few moments later. It might be for the best that he had come to find her. She had a feeling her apology would be hard enough without an audience.

"Why did you come here?" She asked harshly.

"I needed to talk with you, you came outside-"

"No, I mean here, at the Burrow?" She turned towards him, confusion colored her features as she frowned and put her hands on her hips. The porch light framed his silhouette in light, making him look like a dark angel. It also made it harder to make out his face as it was cast in shadow.

"I told you, I didn't like how we left things." He said, stepping forward. She took a step back.

"I behaved poorly. You shouldn't want anything to do with me. So why do you?" She asked uncertainly. Draco sighed and looked towards the ground, jamming his hands in his pockets.

"We've both acted terribly to one another, Hermione. Ever since we first met. I don't want that to happen any longer." He kicked up a little tuft of grass with his boot.

"I know I... I'm sorry for how I behaved." She said slowly. "When I went into your room... I wasn't looking for trouble, honest-"

"I doubt that very much," He argued.

"It's true I... I was actually looking for a book."

"A book?" He asked incredulously. "What book?"

"I had a hankering for Jane Austen," She shrugged, smiling weakly. His silhouette stiffened.

"Oh. Well, you wouldn't have found it anyways. I took it to work with me." He said. "It's sitting on my desk."

"I see. I suppose that would have been problematic. I should really get my own copy." They made awkward, polite chitchat for a few more minutes, neither really knowing how to move along the conversation in a meaningful way.

"Listen... about what you said back at my house-" Hermione began.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does. Please let me say this," She fidgeted with her sleeve before continuing. "You were right, Draco. I think, subconsciously, I was looking for a reason not to trust you. Instead, I just gave you a reason not to trust me. I'm ashamed by how I treated you. All you've been is kind to me since you came back into my life. You're decent to my family, you get along with my friends... I should've been more welcoming."

"I think it's hard to overcome the past sometimes. And I don't blame you. I was a real prat." Draco said and Hermione chuckled.

"You were. But you've apologized. So I need to move on and accept it like I said I did." She said and smiled. "Sorry again. There's really no excuse but if there were... I'd blame it on my book." Draco nodded.

"I could see that. Charlotte's notes were incredibly brutal. But you have to understand, she's an extremely meticulous editor. And those notes weren't meant to be seen by you. Think about it... did she ever give you any sort of indication that you were an incompetent writer? Had she ever mentioned any of those notes to you before?"

"Not in that way," She said slowly, thinking back on it.

"Exactly. She probably gave you a more upbeat critique because she knows you respond better to positivity. Editor and publisher notes are usually only meant for business purposes. The notes always sound cold and unfeeling because we try not to put any of ourselves into the work. We want you to figure out how to make it better on your own terms so the work remains purely you." Draco said. "And you've truly accomplished that. Your book-I mean, I shouldn't even be saying this without a formal meeting with Charlotte, but-it's brilliant. I couldn't put it down." He said. "I actually read it all in one night, if I'm being honest. That's how good it was."

Hermione's breath hitched.

She'd spent the last week thinking he hated her book. And her, by extension. To think that it was the complete opposite was like mental whiplash; she felt confused but extremely relieved.

Maybe all her work hadn't been for nothing, after all...

"You read it in one go? How'd you manage?" She asked.

"I actually read it the night of the party. After you pissed me off, I retreated into the guest room but couldn't sleep. Like I mentioned before, I'm usually up pretty late for work and such. But the only thing I had to work on, seeing as how I'd just gone back to work, was your book. So I read. And read. And read some more." He admitted, looking away from her to hide his smirk. His profile was backlit and she could make out his jaw clenching and unclenching.

"Is that why you were so tired and edgy on Saturday?" She asked.

"Yeah. I try to sleep in on weekends due to the lack of sleep from my work week. But you just had to get your-or should I say my-apology out of the way first thing in the morning..." He said in mock annoyance. Hermione tried to stifle a giggle and failed, making Draco's head abruptly turn.

"I like that sound," He said.

"What sound?" She asked.

"The sound of your laugh. It doesn't happen very often."

"Oh." She couldn't think of anything else to say. He'd given her a compliment-sort of. Thinking of how he would like something as simple as her laugh was boggling but she tried not to question it. Far be it for her to try to figure out Draco Malfoy. "Maybe we should go back inside?" She suggested.

"No, we still have a few matters to discuss." He said and gestured he towards the lawn chairs next to the makeshift pitch.

Hermione strode over, Draco on her heels, and plopped down in one of the wooden chairs. The newly mown grass under her feet was slightly damp from the rain earlier and moistened the hem of her jeans, causing a small amount of water to get into her socks. She shivered at how cold it was. Draco took off his Weasley jumper and draped it over her shoulders before sitting down himself.

She had been right earlier, he was wearing a white, long-sleeved, button-up underneath. She wrapped the sweater tightly around herself and could faintly smell something pleasant waft up from the material. It reminded her of something familiar. Like parchment and mint of some kind. That combined with the dewy grass scent rising up from the lawn seemed to lighten her mood somehow. She grinned slightly to herself.

"You were inducted into the family, I see." She mused. Draco cocked his head to the side. "The sweater. Once Molly makes you one of these, you're in." She said. Draco raised a brow.

"Really, is that how it works?" Draco touched the sleeve of her sweater, rubbing the material between his fingers. "I thought Mrs. Weasley might just be going barmy."

"Hmmm... maybe you're right. You must have hexed her or something." Hermione joked.

"Of course, that must be it. It couldn't be the fact that all her children seem to think I'm an okay bloke or anything."

"Unfathomable." She smiled and he almost did, too.

"Hermione? I want to come back." He said after a pregnant pause.

"To my house?"

"Yeah." He nodded once. She could barely see the movement, it was slight in the darkness of the evening.

"Okay." She agreed.

"You're sure?" He sputtered, obviously not thinking it would be so easy.

"Yes. You must be making it quite difficult for George to get any action at his place." Hermione joked-but not really. George dated quite a bit. The term, 'date,' was used loosely, though. He mainly just met women at the clubs he'd frequent and then sleep with them. She could only imagine how hard it was having a live-in cock block.

"Well, that aside... I like being at your place." He admitted.

"I doubt that. With its female décor and annoying inhabitant, I wouldn't think you'd find it very appealing." She said sarcastically.

"Don't do that,"

"Do what?"

"Be so self-deprecating," He sighed, sounding suddenly exhausted. "You're an adequate flatmate." He insisted.

"Adequate? I think I prefer my self-deprecation, thank you very much." She said.

"Let's move on to another matter." He quickly changed the subject. "Charlotte has been writing you for a meeting all week. I understood you were angry with me when you thought what you did about me but that doesn't explain your dismissal of her. Why wouldn't you respond? I thought you two were good friends. Or was I misled?"

"No, I..." Hermione thought about the unopened letters she had received. "I didn't read her letters."

"Why the bloody hell not? That woman has been driving me up a wall all week. Even made me go out trolling with her on Friday night..." He shuddered and Hermione made an amused chirp.

"She did not!" She lightly swatted his arm in humored disbelief and he kept up the mock-horror when he saw her enjoyment at the thought.

"That woman is a nutter! She went home with a man younger than me!" He admitted. Hermione snorted.

"Charlotte and I used to go out every single weekend. She'd always try to set me up."

"Any winners?" He asked.

"Definitely not. But she could usually find herself a worthy companion. Even if only for a night. The nights she didn't were almost worse, though."

"Why's that?" He asked.

"Because alcohol acts as a truth serum for her. She talks a good game but under all the pink feathers and drama, she's just a lonely woman who craves romance." She admitted a little wistfully and sighed. "I hated seeing her like that."

"I can't imagine her that way." He said.

"Yes, well... I suppose we all get that way from time to time. She'll find someone who won't just want her for one night and she'll be crossed in love someday."

"Merlin help the bloke that attaches himself to her." Draco joked.

"Yeah..."

"You sound like you miss her." He mentioned.

"I do."

"Then why ignore her post?"

"Because I'd had enough. I figured if my book really wasn't any good I may as well sever all ties with anyone who had a hand in it and that included her. I thought she'd been lying to me about my writing quality. It was just easier not to deal with her as she was a reminder that I had failed at something." Hermione fiddled with a loose thread on the inside of her sleeve. Draco snorted.

"Avoidance. I'm familiar with that notion." He murmured. "Just make up with her, Granger. We have work to do." Hermione hesitated, looking at him. He seemed a little detached like he usually did when he wasn't being completely honest. A thought registered.

"Is that your motive for coming here and making faux amends? You need me to make up with her so I can help with your bottom line? Feeling a little pressure at work, are you?" She sneered. This conversation had her emotions all over the place. One minute they were talking about him moving back in and the next they were back to discussing work matters.

"The only pressure I feel is from myself. Your novel needs work still, Granger. Once we tweak it a bit-"

"More edits? You were just raving about how good it was a moment ago-"

"Let me finish!"

"No!" Hermione stood and scoffed, throwing the sweater back at him. He barely managed to catch it before it fell to the ground. "I am sorry for how I treated you about everything the other day, Malfoy. But at this point, I'm not even sure I want to continue working with Olympus."

"With Olympus or me?" He asked angrily, getting to his feet and setting the sweater on his abandoned chair. Hermione looked away.

"I don't know." She crossed her arms. "Maybe both." Draco ran a hand wildly through his hair, frustration seeping off his body again. He took a stiff stance and glared at her.

"Well, you better make up your mind, Granger!" He growled. "Do you know how much work and resources have gone into this novel of yours so far?" His voice raised a bit louder.

"I have no idea, seeing as how most of the wonderful people at Olympus enjoy deceiving me on a daily basis!" She yelled, equaling the intensity of his signature glare.

"That's not true!" He countered.

"It's absolutely true! Why would I continue to work for a company that doesn't really care about my work or—"

"Of course we care! I care! If I didn't I wouldn't suggest the edits!"

"What edits could I possibly give it at this point that would make it better or more complete? Charlotte and I have been roving over it for a year already, Malfoy! She told me it was practically perfect or she wouldn't have said it was ready to be reviewed by you." She poked him in the chest and he grabbed her hand, holding it firmly as she tried to pull it away.

"Practically perfect." He reiterated. "But not absolutely perfect. I don't publish anything that I don't deem one hundred percent immaculate. There are a few things that need tending to," He lowered his voice a bit so he was no longer yelling at her.

"Which part needs further attention? If I rewrite it any more it will turn into another story completely-" She tried to loosen his grip, to no avail.

"The romance, Granger!" Draco said through clenched teeth and closed eyes as if it pained him to say it. He squeezed her hand so tightly. It barely didn't hurt. Hermione felt like she had been punched in the gut.

"The—what?" Her anger faltered.

The book itself was a work of romantic fiction. Had he really just told her all the romance in it needed to be rewritten?

"There are certain parts..." He paused and opened his eyes, glancing down at her. "Some of it is just... missing something." He finished.

"Missing what?" She asked, her brows were knit together harshly. Her cheeks felt warmer than they should have in the cold of the night. Draco loosened his grip on her hand. She curled and retracted her fingers a couple times. They ached a bit where he held them. His hand smoothed her fingers out and curled in the spaces between.

"Sorry," He muttered, looking down at their entwined fingers. "I don't want to ever hurt you. Physically or emotionally it's just that..." He shook his head, unable to make eye contact. "The few scenes in your book where the main characters... connect..." He paused, seeming embarrassed. "There's no passion. The encounters feel forced or inexperienced or... I don't know. It's just missing something that would allow the reader to feel it believable. There's no spark."

Hermione pulled her hand slowly away from his own. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears. Whether it was from embarrassment, disappointment or something else... she wasn't quite sure. Being this close to him usually came with strange results at times but nothing like this. She couldn't catch her breath or stop the tingly feeling from crawling up her arm from where he'd held her hand. Draco regarded her carefully, not saying anything.

"Oh," Was all she could muster.

"A meeting with Charlotte to talk about this would have gone better." He said matter-of-factly. "Why do you make it your mission to squeeze every ounce of dignity from me when we discuss serious things?" He asked suddenly.

"I'm a Gryffindor, Malfoy. It's my mission to seek out the truth, no matter the cost to myself. Or others, sometimes." She said in a small voice, peaking up at him through her eyelashes. He wore that wary expression he often donned.

"What am I to do about that?" He asked. Hermione sighed.

"There's nothing to be done about it. You've known me since we were eleven. You should know by now that my inquiring mind won't be denied."

Malfoy looked amused by what she said. Hermione liked the smile he gave her. His genuine smile was something she'd rarely seen growing up. It was a wonder to behold all these years later. It made him look his age, which was rare these days.

"I can't write it better." She blurted out.

"Your book? Why not?" He asked, his smile falling. Hermione took a couple steps back and turned away from him. She began walking toward the house.

"Hemione, wait up," He called after her. She turned but continued walking backward as he caught up.

"Tell me why you can't write it?"

"I'm no good at it." She said simply and faced forward again once he was by her side. Draco rushed past, effectively stopping her before she could open the back door. The dim, yellow lantern above illuminated the porch. Her hand was on the doorknob but she made no move to turn it.

"Not good at what?" He insisted.

"All of it." She said vaguely, not really wanting to admit anything.

"All of what?" His insistence won out.

"The romance stuff." She threw up her hands in defeat. "That's probably why it's not good. Nothing I could write would make it any more believable because intimacy is the one subject I don't seem to excel at," She said, trying to convince him that it didn't bother her. But it definitely did. And the look of confusion on Draco's face made her feel worse. That was all she needed, was him thinking she was some sort of pariah that couldn't even romance properly. She huffed in frustration as she tried to move around him but he wouldn't budge.

"I don't believe it for one second, Granger," He said firmly.

"Believe what you want, Malfoy, I don't-" She started but was interrupted by a set of firm hands grabbing her waist and pulling her forward. Her protest was silenced by his lips crashing down on hers. It was a firm kiss; urgent and full of something he couldn't express. Maybe it was a need to prove his point about her kissing abilities. She couldn't voice her speculation when he was kissing her as if his life depended on it, though.

She wanted to ask him what he thought he was doing. Her brain yelled at her that this shouldn't continue... but the little voice in her head told her brain to shut the hell up as she closed her eyes and succumbed to the feeling of his lips against her own. She grabbed a hold of the front of his shirt and held fast. She felt him smile and heard a soft hum come from the back of his throat.

Draco deepened the kiss once the initial shock wore off. He slowed his lips against hers like they had all the time in the world. His hands, which had been firmly on her waist, slid up her body slowly before reaching their destination to cup her face. He pulled back momentarily, grinning at her, then went in for a final, gentle kiss before leaning away, leaving her feeling adrift.

Her eyes opened slowly, lids heavy like she'd been asleep, and her body felt feverish where he'd held her. His eyes searched hers for a reaction. Both of their chests rose and fell quickly. She wanted to ask why he'd done it when the back door suddenly popped open. Hermione and Draco jumped apart, startled, and looked to the ginger-haired man with the deepest scowl on his face standing in the doorway.

"You need to come inside," Ron said firmly.

"In a minute, Weasley-" Draco said, sounding agitated by the interruption.

"Now! Something's happened!" Ron barked and held the door open expectantly. Hermione looked down at her feet and rushed past the men into the house.