"Oh and I've invited a muggle to supper tomorrow." Draco choked so hard that milk hit the glass of the window. "Goodnight."

When Draco finally stopped trying to break her door down, which was at about three am, Hermione got into bed and pulled the pillows over her head. The walls were thick but her pride was such that she would not take any chances of Draco hearing her cry. It had been bad enough that Harry had ever heard her cry over Ron. She should have known when Ron left them that he was not good enough for her. She remembered when she found his book on 'How to charm witches'. Was it not quite a glaring clue, that he would need such a book? She had laughed when she read it, saying that some of this things in it were actually painfully obvious. Why had it not occurred to her then that it had not really been him she liked, but rather a book.

'How fitting.' she thought miserably.

But she had always loved Ron, even before his stupid brothers handed him the manual. She had loved him and Harry for years. Hermione thought hard; perhaps she had been confused by that. Perhaps what she felt was some sort of mix of Lust and Friendship.

'But... that's what true love should be like. Shouldn't it? Shouldn't your lover be your best-friend too?'

Apparently not.

Hermione eventually wore herself out with her tears and fell into a deep and miserable sleep when the first light began to appear through the sheer curtains. She did not wake until lunchtime.

When she eventually got out of bed, which took quite a large force of will, she removed the wards from her bedroom door and padded into the kitchen. She had a mind to spend the afternoon in bed, reading Draco's book about Merlic and eating 'Pygmy Puffs!' from the box. However, Draco's usual morning note was accompanied by a large pile of pink "Access Permission Slips". She looked at his note in the hope of some sort of explanation.

Hermione.
I am still furious.
DM.

Well that didn't exactly tell her anything she didn't already know. She looked at the clock, it was already half past two. Forcing her betrayal to the very bottom of her mind, Hermione went back to her bedroom to get dressed.

Meanwhile, Draco was making great headway at the Ministry. There was uproar over the missing register, which was the only complete record of every muggleborn in Britain. This allowed Draco the opportunity to walk around almost any part of the building, including the cells, as long as he kept a stern and stressed looking expression nobody bothered to question why he was there; people were rushing all over the place anyway. Armed with a clipboard and the glamoured mask, Draco walked up and down the cells, questioning the guards about the various wards.

"And what is the procedure here, in the event of a fire?"

The guard looked at him blankly. "Put it out?"

"Good God man! No. Get the prisoners to safety, they have important information! Why do you think they are not in Azkaban?"

"Errrr..."

"In the event of Fire, you are supposed to stun them and open the cells. Then they will be levitated our of harms way."

"Oh." said the guard, very relieved 'Yaxley' had come down to explain everything to him. "I'm the one who stuns them?"

"Well, usually, yes. But since the breach of security you are to await Draco Malfoy or his assistant."

"Who's his assistant?"

"I can't recall her name.... Jane or something. You'll know her when you see her. Very pretty little piece of skirt that one. I've a mind to try and hire her for myself actually... But keep that under your hat man."

The guard grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

"Right, now what hexes are on these doors, exactly..."

Draco was tempted to spend the evening at the Leaky Cauldron but decided in the end to take the Hippogriff by the wings and go home to Hermione... and her muggle guest. He didn't like to be away from Hermione for too long anyway.

When he reached the front door, he heard Hermione laughing with someone. If Draco didn't know better he'd have sworn the other voice was that mad old muggle from the fourth floor, the one that always seemed to be extolling the virtues of the milkman.

He fumbled with the lock. Turning the key back and forwards, trying to push it upwards to just the right degree. It took about a minute.

"Hermione? I'm home." he called. The sound of laughter faded, and Hermione's face appeared at the balcony door.

"Hello Draco." turning back to her guest she said, "I'll just be a moment Ethel."

Closing the door behind her gently Hermione pulled a very serious face.

"First thing you said to me?" she demanded.

"Oi Longbottom, I've found your toad." answered Draco a little cruelly. "What are you making, other than my life a misery."

Hermione's lip curled. "Quiche."

"I don't like Quiche."

"I know." said Hermione, "Now give me your wand."

"No!"

"Draco, we have guests. Give me your wand."

"Give me your wand."

Hermione huffed. "Fine, but if I see it at all this evening I'll shut you out on the balcony until the morning. Go get changed, you look like a priest."

Draco stormed out of the kitchen and into his bedroom, where he tugged off his blue robes and dressed himself in jeans and a bottle green jumper.

"I think I should apologise for him in advance." Hermione told their guest. "He's not very good with company at the best of times and I think he's having quite a hard time at work at the moment. We've had a bit of a fight as well actually."

Ethel laughed. "Yes... I heard quite a lot of shouting late last night."

"Oh gosh I'm so sorry, I didn't realise anyone could hear!"

"Not to worry, I tend to stay up quite late anyway. May I ask what it was about?"

"Draco... told my boyfr- my ex-boyfriend something he shouldn't and... we've broken up as a result."

"Oh dear."

"Yes. I was fairly angry with him."

"Was? Are you no longer angry?"

"... not really. Draco wasn't exactly lying to Ron."

"I see." Ethel looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and said, "Draco doesn't look like a man you could stay angry with for long."

"Mmmmm... Between you and me," began Hermione, before she was interrupted by the opening of the balcony door. "Oh, hello Draco."

"Hello." said Ethel brightly.

"Draco, this is Ethel, she helped me home last night when I got lost."

"Yes. We've met once or twice on the stairs. I believe we discussed the milkman." said Draco, Hermione laughed. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. Aren't you going to sit down?" Draco complied, taking the seat between the two women, where he would have a good view of Hermione.

"Ethel and I were discussing that Peter Pan statue that you and I saw."

"Oh?

"I was telling Hermione JM Barry put it up secretly overnight. It's supposed to be the spot Peter landed on when he first arrived in London."

"You do know Peter Pan isn't real."

"Draco!" Hermione was appalled, but Ethel seemed to find his behaviour quite amusing.

"Hermione said you didn't actually know who Peter Pan was until Sunday my boy. Those in glass houses." she retorted with a smile.

"What about them?"

"...They ... they shouldn't throw stones..." Ethel told him. "Have you never heard that expression before?"

"Draco grew up abroad." Hermione told her quickly. "There seem to be quite a few things he doesn't know about."

"Hmmph." said Draco.

Ethel nodded, "I see." she said. "My own husband grew up in Africa. It was always a source of amusement whenever he tried to do something perfectly usual to you or I, but which he had never really had any experience in."

Despite himself, Draco's mouth twisted into a small smile at the sight of Hermione's. "You will have to tell us a bit more about that." she said. "But I think supper will be ready by now. Let's go inside."

Draco did not move as the two ladies rose from their seats. Hermione looked at him expectantly. "Come on Malfoy."

"I don't like quiche."

"I didn't really make quiche you twit, come inside."

Draco followed after her and sat down at the table, resisting the urge to sit next to Hermione's seat.

"So where is your husband tonight?" asked Draco.

"Oh, he passed away a few years ago." Ethel told him. "During a war."

"Oh." said Draco, without a hint of sympathy. "Which one?"

"Pardon?"

"Which war?" he repeated. Ethel made no reply other than to look slightly confused. Giving up the line of questioning- the old woman was clearly senile- he changed tack. "Has my charming Hermione told you what she did to me on Sunday?"

"I'm sure Ethel doesn't really want to hear about it Draco." said Hermione. As she put a plate of goulash in front of him. He scowled at her.

"Yes, well, I didn't really want to get harrassed in the park!"

"Harrassed? What happened? Oh this is delicious Hermione!"

"Better than quiche anyway." Hermione glared. "She 'forgot' to warn me about that silence thing you mugl -ahem must do every year. The Poppy thing."

"I see... were you not...quiet?" Ethel tried very hard not to smile.

"No." said Draco crossly. "I was running after her and shouting."

"Well, at least you made a thorough job of it." said Ethel.

"Quite a respectable looking man nearly beat him up." giggled Hermione. "Oh Draco, you know I didn't mean for that to happen. I said I was sorry."

Draco shrugged. Ethel watched the pair of them closely. Despite her current loneliness, she had always enjoyed being around people. She found them fascinating. She liked to try and unravel what was going on between them.

It was obvious that the pale young man was very taken with Hermione. He stared at her most of the time, almost as though he were angry with her. Though Ethel suspected that might in part be true, she could not miss the way his mouth twisted contentedly whenever Hermione laughed. Ethel wondered if the young woman noticed, if she found it disconcerting. Most girls would shrink under his steely gaze, but she seemed to hold up to it well. If anything she simply ignored it. She could not help but wonder how the two of the became friends, or why Hermione was currently staying with him. Why would she put herself in the path of a man so keen on her, if she was already seeing somebody else? Or stay with him after he had been partly to blame for them then breaking it off.

"So, how did you two become friends?" asked Ethel.

"We went to school together." answered Hermione.

"Ah. it's so nice to have old friends isn't it?"

"We weren't friends at school."

"Well, no-" interrupted Draco, "But only because... I mean you were always with Potter. And... the other thing."

Ethel restrained herself from asking more about the 'other thing'. Some things people needed to tell you in their own time. "Was Potter your boyfriend?" she asked Hermione.

"No, Harry was just a friend of mine. He's getting married to Ron's sister now-

"You didn't tell me that!" said Draco.

"You didn't tell me you to used to um... to see each other."

"You didn't ask."

"Well nor did you."

"Bloody Potter. He always get everything he wants." muttered Draco into his wine.

"So do you." she pointed out. "well... you used to anyway. And you probably will again when the war's over."

"War?" asked Ethel.

"Oh.... this work problem of his. It's very nasty at the moment. That's why I've come to stay for a while, to look after him while he tries to sort it out."

This confused Ethel even more. "To look after him?" she asked. Perhaps the man was ill. He was certainly gaunt. "Does he need it?"

"No." said Draco. "She just likes to boss people around."

"Don't we all." said Ethel.

Draco frowned at her.

"So, if you were not friends at school, which cannot have been that long ago by the looks of you, how did you become so?"

"Hermione was very kind to me when my mother died."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realise. When did it happen?"

"Tuesday." he answered.

"Oh... and you became friends after that... and she moved in?"

Draco shrugged and stared at his plate.

"Pudding I think." said Hemione after a pause.

Ethel helped Hermione to clear the table.

"Oh no, don't worry. I can manage."

"Come now my dear, you must allow me to help a little."

"Draco, how much do you want?" asked Hermione, having first helped their guest to a generously sized bowlful of Rhubarb crumble.

"I don't really want any." he said. "I don't really like sweet things."

"Oh... you used to." said Hermione reproachfully. "not a week went by at school when your owl didn't come in weighed down by half a pound of toffee."

"His... owl?"

Hermione stuttered, but Draco interrupted her.

"It's what we called the younger ones." he said. smoothly. "I used to make one from my school house fetch my letters for me."

"I can imagine you being quite a terror at school Draco. Always were you shouldn't be and always an excuse."

"That was Potter."

"Ah. What were you like then?"

"He was a terrible bully." said Hermione.

"Well you were a shrill know-it-all!" said Draco not meeting her eyes.

"I think everybody wishes the had done things differently at school." said Ethel. "I wish I had not been particularly cruel to my teachers. Unfortunately I was quite a tear-away myself, we all were. Teachers used to draw lots to not teach our class."

Hermione laughed. "But you're so good-tempered!"

"Ah, we all grow into ourselves. I'm sure Draco is no longer a bully just as you are far from being a 'shrill know-it-all'."

Hermione was silent.

"You see." said Draco. "Even the muggle likes me."

"What did you just call me young man?"

"Oh fuck it."

"I think I should be getting going." said Ethel. "I've left George alone for far too long. He'll be missing me. Or at least I would like to think he has been missing me."

"Oh." said Hermione. "Well it was lovely to see you. You should pop by again sometime. I don't really know anybody here. It would be so nice to see a friendly face."

Ethel smiled from ear to ear. " I've had a lovely evening... er- gosh. Do you know, I can't remember a thing about this evening."

"You... can't?"

"...No."

"We had goulash, remember? Draco told you that story about playing cricket for his school team."

"Oh... oh yes- of course. Now I remember. A little too much wine perhaps."

"...Would you like me to see you upstairs?"

***

All in all, thought Draco, it had not been as bad as he had been expecting. The old woman didn't talk much. She just seemed to listen. Very carefully. When she did talk it was usually to say something witty. He actually quite liked her, for a muggle at least. Although he had once or twice remembered what Hermione had told him about muggle women being... barbed, and was barely able to repress a laugh or a shudder.

Hermione returned with a very serious look on her face. "Draco." she said sternly.

"What?" he asked. "What did I do?"

"Not only," began Hermione, as she collapsed on the sofa next to him, "Not only did you call her a muggle four or five times, accio a bottle of wine in front of her and cheat at whist -which by the way I find seriously disturbing-"

"Why?"

"Because for someone who had never even heard of it, you cheated very well."

"That's not disturbing."

"It bloody well is. It's not natural for someone to be so good at deceiving people. Anyway! Not only did you do all of these things-"

"I modified her memory, stop worrying about it. She thinks she had a wonderful time with the charming young couple from downstairs." Draco stretched out on the sofa and put his head in her lap. He was very quickly ejected.

"Draco she can barely remember a bloody thing and we are not a couple!"

"I found something while I was poking round in her head by the way." he answered.

"What?" huffed Hermione.

"I found out which war her husband died in."

"Tell me what happened at work today." she answered.

Draco pouted and shifted to lie against the arm of the sofa, looking at her with sleepy and reproachful eyes.

"Don't look at me like that." She snapped. "What are those pink slips you left on the side?"

His face brightened. "Oh wait until you hear how clever I am."

"Tell me."

"There access permission slips-"

"I know that."

"They mean we can get into pretty much any part of the ministry. They are the Government equivalent of a note from your mother. Are you asleep?"

Hermione had put her own back to the opposite arm of the sofa to face him, and had closed her tired eyes. "No. I'm just tired. I didn't really sleep much last night."

"Nor did I. Do you want to go to bed? We can talk about this tomorrow."

Hermione pulled her eyes open and sat up straight. "No, I'm fine. I shouldn't be sleeping when there are so many people in those awful cells."

"Ah, my little Gryffindor; always so selfless."

"I am not your Gryffindor." muttered Hermione. "Tell me what else you found out."

"The wards on the doors are actually pretty ineffectual. They seem to be relying on the security of the Ministry itself."

"How easy would it be for us to get passed the other security then?"

"Well, you and I managed to get out fairly easily last time. That put outer of yours is pretty powerful. They still have no idea how you escaped."

"Right. Well... how long before you and I can put whatever we come up with into action? What's that face for?"

"Nothing. The next few days."

"So soon? But Draco that's wonderful! Why do you look so miserable?"

He didn't answer. Hermione opened one eye and regarded him suspiciously. "Draco?"

"We'll have to go to your head-quarters."

Hermione yawned. "So?"

"I like things how they are now. Will you stop falling asleep? You're always bloody asleep!"

"I am not! You're just always awake."

"Come on, let's go get into bed. Then I'll finish telling you about my plan."

"I'm not sharing a bed with you."

"Merlin, I'm not going to do anything to you! I just don't want to have to try and wake you up once you've fallen asleep. It's too hard."

"If you'd stop berating me for being sleepy and just tell me the plan we could be done by now!" her eyes were still closed.

"...Fine. Well-"

Draco spoke to her in the most soothing voice he could manage.

Hermione awoke, hot but comfortable, in a pitch black room. She wasn't entirely sure where she was at first, until she felt a body next to her shift slightly. Last thing she remembered was Draco's voice murmuring as she fell asleep. The bastard had tricked her! She tried to sit up, to get away and back to the cool empty bed she had grown used to.

"Stop trying to escape." Draco muttered in her ear. His breath tickled. "It's comfortable."

Hermione had to admit she was indeed very comfortable. Draco's body was much more inviting than 'Luna the Spooner's'. His scent filled her nose. It was such a familiar smell. She wondered how that could be.

"Draco, get off me."

"No!"

"My arms gone numb."

"We've all got problems."

Despite herself, Hermione laughed a little.