Harry took a decision towards the end of their morning meeting. He was watching his team intently, as they were drafting the report on their last intervention together, still having not come to an agreement as for who would replace Hermione. Dean was still acting oddly anytime her work was missed or mentioned, Ron was killing himself at work and refused any day off, Neville looked so exhausted it was painful to see, Zabini seemed to be trying to cheer everyone up when clearly he was the one who needed the jokes, Malfoy was scowling constantly – which wasn't so out of character but Harry knew something was bothering him now - Kingsley was so busy they had no idea how he was, Lee had cleared their offices and sent notes instead of coming since the Malfoy incident, and finally Lavender was the only one who seemed to only feel irritated by the heavy ambience. They needed closure. They weren't going to be on intervention until the next week so Harry decided to impose something. He cleared his throat loudly, getting everyone's attention and then started:

"Colin would you mind taking the shift Saturday with the trainees?"

"Oh, no, not at all Harry."

"Great thanks, then the rest of you have Saturday off BUT tomorrow night I want everyone at my place at eight. No exception, it's an order."

"Why?" Asked Ron, question everyone seemed to be wondering about except maybe for Lavender who was nodding approvingly.

"Because it seems that we need to discuss what happened as a team. All of us. I'll make sure Kingsley's there too."

No one had the time to protest or comment that a patronus ran in the room. Ginny's horse. Harry's heart started beating furiously in terror as he abruptly stood from his chair.

Don't worry, just tell Neville to answer his bloody floo calls already! Hermione's parents are finally getting treatment, and her completely NORMAL response to that was to put the kitchen on FIRE. It took two sodding hours to put down! She refuses to understand and I SWEAR Harry that if I have to bear with her for another minute there's going to be a murder.

Harry sank back down on his chair as Zabini chuckled.

"Does a patronus howler exist?" He extolled. Harry snorted in response but his attention was taken by Malfoy who half stood in worry as Neville left the room sighing. Harry watched the ferret with curiosity as he clearly hesitated whether to follow or not. He finally glared at everyone watching him and left the room too. Ron's frown was quite the sight and a worrying sign. Lavender and Zabini shared a knowing look then, that the last turned to Harry just after. Great. Hermione was a wreck, Malfoy her saviour and Ron would murder someone soon. AND his kitchen had been on fire.

"Tomorrow night. No fucking exception." He said.

Draco watched with worry as Longbottom kneeled down Potter's office fireplace to call Grimmaud. His head disappeared through the flames and he stayed like that way too long. Draco stopped wringing his fingers to start pacing around the office he'd occupied for some time instead. She'd set the kitchen on fire. That couldn't be good. Draco had never imagined that this news could have such effect on her. He'd thought she'd be happy.

Thinking back, he remembered that the night she'd told him about her parents, she'd been in pain, so much pain that she'd cried in front of him when they'd been nothing more but old enemies. Draco had never heard her speak a word about her parents apart form that night, and clearly remembered thinking she'd lost all hopes for them. She'd said so herself.

Longbottom finally lifted himself up, out of the fireplace and cocked an eyebrow questioningly but didn't say anything while dusting his robes. Draco waited about two seconds before sighing and asking, shoving his pride aside:

"How is she? I should have told Lovegood to… " Draco winced at his own words. Damn! Shortbottom was smirking and the sight was still oddly alien.

"I knew it. You're the donator aren't you?" He jubilated.

"I swear if you tell her …"

"I won't." He cut right away and he seemed sincere, which popped Draco's starting anger right away, but not his impatience though.

"So?"

"She's calmed down and apologised about a hundred times for Harry's kitchen. She was fixing it when I called. She's fine Malfoy." He said with a small relieved smile to replace his precedent frown.

"You sure?"

"Positive. It's Hermione. She snaps and then …"

"She recovers." Longbottom nodded at Draco's complement. Then he passed him to go back to the meeting room, patting his shoulder on his way. Draco followed, not entirely relieved. She'd recovered, as always, as that morning after her awful nightmare, like every other time Draco had needed longer to gather himself. But she'd snapped badly, worse than any other time and Draco had a stiff gut feeling that something was off.

"Stop worrying, it's not the first time she reacts like this." Assured Longbottom over his shoulder as they reached the meeting room again. Draco didn't answer. He didn't care how many times she'd put something on fire, or blew something up. His only worry was that she might cry again. He didn't want her to cry again, at least not on her own.

Entering the meeting room again he crossed eyes with the weasel, who opened his offended mouth right away. There, not offering to go for a drink any more apparently. Draco decided to ignore him, and pretended the others weren't about to ask too. It was none of their business anyway. He scoffed at the very thought, except the weasel and maybe Thomas, he was sure they all knew what was going on already.

Hermione transfigured the last cloth she'd found into a new chair, and placed it at the table with a swift of her wand, next to her transfigured wooden bench. The kitchen looked pretty much the same as it had before, but it was already six o'clock. She'd spent her whole day repairing and refurnishing the damn room. The only good thing about her monstrous snap was that she'd burnt the ugly perpetually glued wallpaper. Now the walls were a light cream colour Harry would surely appreciate more that the disgusting maroon tapestry they'd tried countless times to tear off the walls.

She was drenched though and her leg hurt so badly she even had trouble sitting down. Rubbing her face with both hands, and getting them tangled in the nest that was her hair, she groaned. Ginny had lost patience about right after they'd managed to put the fire down, and had strode angrily upstairs, banging every door on her way up. She hadn't made another appearance the entire day. It seemed as though Hermione had hurt her feelings asking for Neville. But everyone knew he was the only one to understand what she'd been going through with her parents, and he also was the only one who could translate Luna's words to her.

Thinking about it, it wasn't true. First, Ginny had no idea she'd talked about it with Neville, and second, she'd confided in Draco about them too. Right, good time to think about him. As if the confusion wasn't strong enough in her brain right now. Shaking the thoughts away she stood and, thinking she now understood Zabini a bit better, went slowly to the cupboard to retrieve a bottle of firewhiskey and a glass. She poured herself a drink and settled back on the chair.

The first gulp was atrocious. It burned her throat so bad it reminded her of Luna's potion when she'd woken up at Mungo's. She coughed a few times and tried another. It was just slightly better, still horrific. Scowling she pushed the glass away.

She was about to grab it again when her thigh grew hot. On the left. Wincing and scratching her now almost healed wound, she realised it was her parchment. She found herself eagerly flattening it on the table to read its content.

- Didn't you promise something this morning? Aren't Gryffindors supposed to keep their word?

A reminder that he'd been sincere, that he was there, and an attempt at making her smile. He'd succeeded, even if her smile was small. She summoned her quill and ink pot from her bedroom and answered.

- Sorry, I was fixing the kitchen. But I guess you already know what happened in that room.

- Everybody does. Are you all right?

- I am. Almost died murdered by Ginny though.

- She mentioned it in her patronus. Do you want to talk about it?

What would she say? She didn't even really understand what had happened exactly.

- I can't explain what happened even to myself. I just lost it. I guess that I was a bit on edge this morning. Nothing to worry about though, it's good news.

- It is. You'll soon have your family back. Aren't you happy?

Happy? Was she happy? When she couldn't even produce a patronus any more? And she'd tried!

- I have no idea. I can't believe this is happening.

- It is Hermione. You're going to have your parents back.

She was. Her mum and dad were going to be cured.

- Yes.

- Are you all right?

- No.

Somehow she wasn't. Her throat clenched at the honesty of her response, she'd written without thinking. And she didn't care that he knew the truth, she was even glad he did. Because he wouldn't judge her. He wouldn't judge her the way Ginny had when she hadn't reacted the way people expected her to. She knew she was supposed to be happy, she knew she should be jumping in joy. But she wasn't, she felt guilty. Guilty for having wasted four years of her parents' lives, for having thrown away four long years she could have spent with them, sharing and loving. Draco knew guilt. He wouldn't judge her.

- Are you crying?

Apparently she was. Tears had fallen on the parchment, making small uneven circles on the blank surface. Another fell as she wiped them off her eyes with her sleeve, smudging his perfectly cursive handwriting. She watched the sentence disappear but didn't answer. After only a few seconds where she tried to put herself back together enough to answer, he added:

- Do you want me to come back home?

Home? What time was it? Surely his day wasn't over yet. No! She wouldn't ask of him to come back there when he had better things to do. It had been selfish enough of her to stay in his arms that long this morning, she wouldn't impose her feelings on him.

- No, I'm all right, finish your work.

- No you're not.

This statement was strangely reminiscent of another he'd made some time prior, no you don't, he'd known back then and he'd been right. Of course he was right now too. She wasn't all right. But she couldn't be that selfish with him, especially after all he'd done for her.

But then she remembered the regular thudding of his heartbeat, her face buried somewhere against his chest. She remembered his warmth, and the tightness of his embrace, the faded smell of his cologne, the way he'd soothed her, the way he'd decidedly took her hand.

- I'm still in the kitchen.

His answer only took a few seconds to appear.

- I'll be there in a minute.

Draco didn't think twice. After ignoring the weasel's questions for another two hours, fighting against his urge to apparate straight to Grimmaud, he'd given up. Her silence had been unbearable so he'd written. Whether she'd needed him or not, his own need to make sure she was okay had been stronger. Longbottom had been wrong, she wasn't all right. The news had come as a shock. She always seemed to recover but Draco now understood something as she confided in him for the second time, she didn't recover, her friends were idiots and he'd been fooled too. She just forbade herself to think about it and tried to forget. Hence the so intense nightmares. Hence the snaps at every mention of something that could remind her of Bellatrix. She was strong, but she'd pushed herself so much over the years that the first happy news had been the drop. And now he knew that she needed him. Whether it hurt or not, he would be there.

He stood from his desk, snatched his cloak from the back of his chair, retrieved his wand from his pocket and, while tucking the parchment back where it belonged, ran to the lift.

He'd never been back to Grimmaud this fast, his only halt was in the hall, and then he pushed the door to the kitchen open and before he knew it, she was in his arms again. Crying her heart out as he was certain she'd never done before. Draco held her tightly, his arms wrapped around her shaking shoulders, her tears wetting his robes. But he didn't care, for she smelt of shampoo and flowers, and her hair was soft against his chin, and every time he whispered her name and tried to soothe her, her cries lowered.

Exactly as it had happened that morning, the more time she spent in his arms, the calmer she became. Her breathing slowed, her cries became sobs and then sniffs. Her shoulders stopped shaking, but her hold of his robes didn't loosen. This time he didn't say anything. He just waited, making soothing sounds in her hair, until she was ready to let go. Which could be never as long as she didn't cry.

Her bony hands kept fisting the fabric against his chest, but eventually she slowly lifted her face from his arms, and looked at him straight in the eyes. His heartbeat was crazy again, and something swelled up in his chest as he repressed an urge to grab her rosy and freckled face in his hands, wipe the tears from her cheeks, and kiss her mouth to make her smile again. He couldn't do all that as a friend, but what kept him from doing it the most, were her eyes.

Her whiskey orbs were moving, shining from the tears, but determinedly examining. She was watching him with puzzlement, as if he was an enigma she was trying to solve. He couldn't tear his eyes off of her gaze, and for the first time, he caught a tiny spark of emerald in her irises. Just around the pupil. They were beautiful.

And less than two month prior, he'd been thinking they were just brown. Plain boring brown. As he'd thought she was, plain and boring. But no, she was the exact opposite of everything he'd ever assumed about her. She was so beautiful.

For the second time the thought couldn't be repressed and it warmed his heart to tell himself that he loved her.

Suddenly the feeling of loss invaded him as she withdrew from his arms. He felt out of air only half a second though, then he saw her smile. She was smiling at him, her freckles revived. She didn't say anything but her gaze drifted to his mouth a fraction of a second and he realised he'd been smiling too. She made him smile. The very sight of her made him smile and she hadn't pushed him away. She'd just taken a step back to sit. And she was smiling at him, only him. He made her smile too.

A twinge of something he hadn't felt in years pinched his heart, this long forgotten feeling called hope.

A sudden bubble of courage gripped his core then, so he moved forward. His left hand drew up to her face and his breathing fastened. She didn't move as he reached her cheek. He traced her jawline with his thumb and she inhaled deeply. His chest tightened, she didn't flinch at his touch nor reject it. She kept smiling a small smile, her eyes on him. All reasons not to lean forward were forgotten as he saw that tiny freckle at the right corner of her nose. So he did.

The door clicked open and they jolted apart as children caught doing something wrong. Hermione realised what had almost happened only once Lavender had helped her sit down next to her.

He'd been about to kiss her. And she hadn't done anything to prevent it, she'd even leaned in his touch, as the tip of his long fingers had brushed her cheek. His lips had been curled in a small anticipatory smile, and when his thumb had traced her jawline he'd leaned in and her whole body had warmed.

Now he had his back to her as he rummaged through the cupboard, supposedly looking for something to drink. The bottle of firewhiskey was already on the table though, and after assuring Lavender twice that she was all right in a strained voice, Hermione called:

"Draco?" He turned around and his gaze had returned to avoiding her eyes. She showed the bottle with a hand and he nodded, returned to the cupboard and retrieved two more glasses. Then he went to sit at the end of the table, poured himself a drink and watched the amber liquid swirl as he nursed the glass.

"So, when are you going to see them?"

"In less than a week I guess." Hermione answered, tearing her eyes off of him to try to focus on Lavender's blue gaze.

"I'll come with you. Except if you'd prefer to go with Neville …"

"No. It'd be too hard on him. Thank you though but I … I don't know I might just …"

"Go alone? I don't think so." She decided. "Or I'll take you wand. No way you're burning down Saint Mungo's too." She chuckled and nudged Hermione on the arm. Who grimaced before confessing quietly:

"I didn't have my wand this morning." Draco's eyes were on her right away.

"You wandlessly put the kitchen on fire?" He inquired, his gaze a mix of awe and astonishment.

"Err … yes." He muttered something under his breath and Lavender shook her head:

"I should have guessed. Then I'll go with you and no arguing."

"All right." Hermione conceded, there was no point in arguing with her anyway, she would come whether Hermione wanted her to or not.

The door clicked open again, as Draco returned his attention to his glass, his eyes wide and his frown deep. Blaise and Harry came in, the last unbuttoning his robes that he threw on the first chair.

"How are you Mione?" He asked inspecting the room, an eyebrow cocked in confusion. "Something's odd."

"Wallpaper's off. And I'm just fine."

"Oh." He said, scouring a hand along the wall above the sink. "Nice job. Anyway, show me that letter." His face became serious again as he returned his attention to her.

"Err …" Hermione rubbed her face with both hands. "It burned." She mumbled behind them. It barely took a second for Blaise and Lavender to laugh. Harry rolled his eyes, and Hermione saw Draco's upper lip curl before flattening again.

"Right. I'll just ask Luna then. I'm still taking Ginny out tonight, except if you …"

"No, go. She'll need it. I haven't seen her all day."

"Not even for lunch?" He asked his eyes widening in sudden … fright?

"No, why?"

"Oh my … Godric …" He winced, to Blaise's greatest pleasure apparently.

"She can't be than angry Harry."

"Oh trust me she can. She's Molly's daughter, in worse." He sank down on the chair he'd thrown his robes on, and grabbed her full glass of firewhiskey which he emptied quickly.

"And I present to you our national hero, the boy who lived twice, the survivor, the main piece of the golden trio, the brave Gryffindor …"

"Shut the fuck up Zabini." They all laughed and Harry arboured a cornered smile assuring that he wasn't really angry.

"I'm sorry about the kitchen."

"Err … I don't really care. Did you burn Kreature too?"

"Harry!" She reprimanded and his fake guilty smile was only proof he'd been trying to lift the mood.

The door opened then, as it kept doing apparently, interrupting everything all evening, and Ginny stayed at the door frame, her stare hard, her frown still angry. Harry'd been right she could be that angry.

Draco watched the angry weaslette attentively. She only had eyes for her golden boy and was staring at him angrily and expectantly.

"Did anyone else got almost murdered or is the beast calmed down?" She asked.

"Ginny … I'm sorry …" Hermione's face was discomposing at the second. She stood and started to her redhead girl friend, who resolutely kept looking at Potter.

"Harry?"

"Ginny please, you know she didn't …" He started.

"I don't care. Are we still going or are you planning on consoling her all evening while I rot in this Godric forsaken house?"

Hermione gasped, and sat back down. Potter was completely taken aback and useless, but Brown reacted before anyone could really process what she'd said.

"Hey! Careful what you say Ginny! She didn't do it on purpose!"

"Right. Maybe. 'Cause it's a perfectly rational way to answer good news. Burn your friend's house to ashes and be an inch from killing her." Then she turned to Potter and Draco saw it in her dark brown eyes, the venom that would next leave her mouth:

"You said it was over Harry. I asked you to stop taking care of everyone's issues, that we weren't some kind of charity. She needs help and I won't bear with broken people my entire life." Draco caught the trembling of Hermione's lips from where he sat, and his fists clenched around his glass. Brown again took her defence.

"You have no right to speak like that! You have no idea what she's …"

"Exactly! I have no idea since no one's made the effort to explain! My best friend almost wandlessly killed me by accident! OVER FUCKING GOOD NEWS! And then guess what? She asked for Neville and refused to explain herself! But right! Take her defence Lavender! Be on her side too! For NO one gives a shit about what I've been through for the past three years! I haven't seen much of the lot of you and been kept in the dark when apparently you risked your lives daily! She almost fucking died and the ferret saved her! I didn't even know he worked for the ministry and now he's living in Harry's bloody house with that troll over there and suddenly we have to leave Teddy to Meda and come back here to take care of her!"

"Ginny … please listen …" Tears started dripping on Hermione's face as she watched her friend's anger spill everywhere.

"NO Hermione! No! You had a chance to explain yourself this morning and all you kept mumbling about was them!" She pointed a finger to Draco and Blaise strangely. "I thought we were friends but clearly I've been mistaken!"

"Ginny please stop …" The red-haired bint opened her mouth again but Draco couldn't take it any more.

"She's in shock you bint! Yelling at her won't help! Treating her like shit neither!"

"SEE! When the FUCK did that happen?" The resemblance with her brother was uncanny at that moment and Draco felt a sudden bout of hate radiate from him.

"When you were enjoying your little broom rides!" He spat with matching venom.

"ENOUGH!" Potter had stood up and lifted a hand to Draco's face as he realised he'd stood too in his anger.

"Harry I'm going back to Meda's tonight. With or without you." Were her final words before she strode out the room, banging the door. Potter's face was blank, devoid of emotions, exactly like when he gave them firm orders at work. He didn't move, as if waiting for something. Draco felt his anger vanish at Potter's serious face, and didn't dare move.

"Go get her Harry, it's all right." Potter finally turned to Hermione and his gaze softened significantly, his apologies written all over his worried frown.

"She had no right … We talked this through …" She cut him, wiping her tears with a sleeve.

"She has. She has no idea what we've been doing since I joined … Harry go get her or she'll never come around."

The next gesture between the two thirds of the golden trio made Draco's guts twist in something ugly called jealousy, but it was only a reminder of the extent of their friendship. Scarhead went around the table as she stood, quickly hugged her around the shoulders and pecked her forehead.

"Love you. I'll send a patronus."

"Love you too, now go."

When the door closed on his back Hermione sank down in her chair, her precedent tears of hurt vanished. She should have expected it. She knew Ginny and she should have seen that she wasn't all right with all this. But then she was right, they hadn't really seen each other since the war. Hermione grabbed her glass back, and emptied the bottle in it.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." She said for them all, before taking a large gulp at it. Lavender started, her voice blurred with the other's but Hermione didn't listen and cut them.

"No. Stop. She's right. She has been kept in the dark, for all I know she thought I was doing paperwork for Harry for the past years. From her point of view I have no excuse and I can't blame her for what she doesn't know." Lavender didn't argue, Blaise neither but it was clear that he, as much as Draco, didn't agree.

"Still, she sees you're in pain and yells at you …"

"And she's in pain too Draco. I didn't even see it." Hermione sipped at the acrid liquid again, finally feeling a bit of the numbness she'd been expecting and realising how quick it happened when you drank on a empty stomach.

"You haven't spent time with her in years Hermione, it's only logical …" Reassured Lavender, putting a hand on her arm to lower her glass.

"I know. I just hope we'll be able to make things public soon, she needs to understand."

"Next week. Harry wants us all here tomorrow night to discuss it." She explained.

"Good."

"Yes it's a good thing. I think we all need it." She eyed both men then, with a compassionate glance that Blaise didn't seem to appreciate at all.

"What's the point?" He asked rhetorically. "The reports have been sent already, we all know exactly what happened I fail to understand what we could discuss."

"I'm certain some of us have something to say. None of us is back to normal and you can't tell me that you didn't notice." Lavender said in a lecturing tone. Blaise shook his head and having probably noticed how she had pushed her glass away from her, snatched it and downed it whole in three large gulps, then he mumbled under his breath:

"Bloody Gryffindors, always want to talk …"

"You don't have to if you don't want to Blaise." Hermione intervened. "But I think you might change your mind."

"And what do you know book-worm?" He asked angrily. Hermione smiled, she'd been right, and his defensive tone was only proof he'd been joking around to hide his feelings. Already a bit numb, and not really feeling the taste of her drink any longer, she decided to show him what he looked like. She lifted her own glass to her lips again, took a deep breath, and downed it whole. It wasn't so bad really. Then she settled the glass back on the table and tried for a smile his way:

"I just know." She caught a glimpse of Draco's smile as Blaise couldn't hold his.

"Of course you know, you know-it-all. Be careful though or you'll end up dead drunk on the carpet. Firewhiskey's a bit strong for an old lady." She chuckled and they all followed. The mood had significantly lifted and as Lavender gave her a fond smile, she confessed:

"I already am a bit drunk actually." Draco's smile was quite the sight, even if he'd lowered his face to his glass. It quickly morphed though.

"One glass mate! That's all it takes! Told you she'd be an easy catch!" Blaise extolled jokingly to a discomposing Draco. The last gave him a death glare and Blaise suddenly seemed to realise what he'd said. He winced and Hermione could feel Draco's anger and mixed embarrassment from her seat. He stood and left the kitchen his fists and jaw clenched, his eyes drown to the floor. Blaise cursed irritably at himself and stood to follow.

"I'm the worst friend ever." He mumbled before he closed the door behind him.

Hermione groaned.

"He's going to avoid me for years now." She said.

"Probably." Said Lavender before wrinkling her nose.

"He was about to kiss me when you came in." The words had blurted out of her mouth without her consent. Lavender's grin was a happy one as she stood.

"Up, I think you have a lot to tell me." A lot was the century's understatement. She'd wanted to confide in Lavender in the morning, and with what had happened all evening they'd probably talk all night.

"I have a lot to say, we don't have to …"

"I have all my time and actually I have some to say myself." Before Hermione could start asking questions though, Lavender had taken her arm and spun on the spot.