I Love(d) You (Once)

Chapter Twenty-seven: It's Cool


Nearly three months since breaking up with her long-time boyfriend –although she and Ron weren't the ones counting—Hermione placed the last pair of knife and fork onto the Potter's dining table. She admired her handiwork: silverware aligned perfectly on top of the finest linen which covered the table. A succulent odour drifted from the kitchen and Hermione's stomach growled.

Behind her, Ginny yawned and played with her hair. The timer on the oven rang and she wrinkled her nose, appreciating the smell of fresh, crisp pork. "Help me take it out of the oven, will you?"

A loud, clanking noise came from the fireplace and Ron appeared with a girl by his side. He lifted her brunette locks and helped dust the soot and Floo powder off her shoulders and back. He stood in full view of a wide-mouthed Ginny. "Are you an idiot?" Ginny whispered, storming towards Ron.

"I just wanted to introduce everyone to her," Ron defended himself. "This is Cecile. She works at the coffee shop next to the joke shop. We got talking and…"

"Hermione's here, you muppet!"

"So what? We broke up, so I'm never allowed to bring the person I'm dating over?"

"You should've given me some warning!" Ginny insisted. She turned to smile and nod to Cecile. "I am sorry about that. Pleased to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too, I've heard quite a lot about you, Harry and Hermione," Cecile said carefully. She had the look suitable to play the heroine in a romantic comedy, as had Ron owned the archetype of the fumbling, awkward but kind boy-next-door. Soot still dusted her light blonde hair, and as she patted off its last remains, she grinned at Ginny.

"You told her about Hermione?" Ginny scolded her brother, her guard up high to protect her friend.

"Of course! More like, who didn't know about me and Hermione? We were in every newspaper after The War. Plus, there's nothing to hide." Ron smacked his forehead with his palm. "Why are you treating me like a fugitive? I've done nothing wrong."

"That is true," Ginny conceded. "But you should've given me a prior warning, Hermione will…

"No matter what time it is, it'll be awkward to introduce someone to her, I might as well get it over and done with and tell her myself so she doesn't find out through someone else." Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "I figured… this was the best time to bring her."

"But she's my best friend! I'm happy that you found someone that looks like a really nice person," Ginny gave a nod to Cecile again who smiled, "but I have to feel a bit angry for Hermione, don't you think?"

"I'm glad that you do," Hermione called out, having heard most of the conversation from the kitchen, "but it's fine."

Ginny cursed the open concept of her home. It was something she designed especially because she hated being left out of the conversation in the living room while she fixed meals.

"Hermione," said Ron, turning to face her and giving her a wave. "You look marvellous."

"Thank you," she said. She patted her hair that had gotten much less frizzy since she decided to pay more attention to how her appearance. There were people she wanted to impress that cared about a tidy appearance… clients. "You look pretty flash yourself."

"I'm Cecile," the dark-haired girl said, extending her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Hermione flashed a dazzling smile and she shook her hand. "Nice to meet you too. I had a feeling Ron would be introducing someone to us soon. I'll prepare an extra plate."

"Please let me help," she said. Cecile and Hermione disappeared into the kitchen together.

Ron raised an eyebrow and Ginny mirrored his expression. "That was much less awkward than I thought it would be." Ginny placed her hands on her hips. "I thought there would be more drama and glares or something."

Ron shook his head. "Hermione's not that kind of person. And neither is Cecile. I for one have good taste. That's why I knew it would turn out all right. The ones I choose are always nice to people."

"Still, she's taking it better than I thought. She's completely cool with it," Ginny pointed out. Or maybe she's keeping it in. She rushed into the kitchen. Harry yelped and his forearm knocked over the sauces and condiments on the kitchen countertop as Ginny shoved him out of her way.

"Hey! I was holding a knife!"

"Hermione! I need you to come with me right now. It's an emergency!" Ginny dragged her friend out of the kitchen by the arm.

"Are you in labour?" Ron jumped out of his seat and rushed to his sister. She shoved him away with her elbow and made a face at him.

"She's not due anytime soon," Harry piped out from the kitchen.

"I swear, you're looking forward to the day I'm in pain aren't you? I still have months left," she said as she dragged Hermione up to the second storey. At the top of the staircase, she sat down on the ground. She took a long, deep breath. The climb up the staircase took a lot out of her. She pulled Hermione by the arm again. Hermione obliged her and sat down cross-legged beside her at the top of the stairwell. They looked down at the living room. Ron and Cecile were placing some glasses on the table. Harry, wearing two blue oven mittens over his hands, brought out the roast. They didn't have long to talk. Ginny placed two hands on Hermione's shoulders and gave her a quite look over.

She looked amused but slightly vexed, Ginny observed. But aside from that… nothing? "You're fine with everything? You're okay that Ron has someone? Have you found someone else?"

"No Ginny, I haven't found somebody else. You forget before Ron was my boyfriend he was also my best friend," said Hermione. She looked down to see Ron pulling a chair out for Cecile and she shrugged. "It was a bit rough right after we broke up, but we're good now. Right now I am happy that my best friend found someone that looks like a really nice person." Hermione gave Ginny a mischievous look. "

"You sure you're okay with this?" Ginny leaned over the staircase railing to peep downstairs. She pressed her face against the bannisters to have a better look at Ron and Cecile.

"Yes," Hermione said. "We broke up months ago, and he's always been eager to start a family. Of course he would be looking! Not to mention last week we caught him writing love poems and sighing at the moon!"

"Hmph," Ginny said and she pulled her friend into a quick hug. "Then that's fine. Come on, let's go down."

"Ah, they return," said Harry as he took a seat at the table. "So how've you been, Hermione? I haven't seen you for a long time."

"I've been… busy," Hermione said, sitting down on her own spot. "You know, work. And so on."

Ron sat adjacent to her and when they looked at each other, he gave her a nervous smile – and she could see an apology at the tip of his tongue and she smiled back, showing that she really was okay with everything and appreciated that he was paying special attention and care to how she was reacting.

Was there jealousy? No, that implied she was still somewhat beholden to him. Yet, their romance fizzled out months before their separation.

Was there resentment? No, they had parted on decent terms—as amiable as a break up could get. No. She was happy for Ron, as long as he could be happy for her when the time came and she introduced him to her new boyfriend. Hermione smiled wider at Ron at she realised this, and he also grinned back at her, knowing what she was feeling.

"Uh-oh, there seems to be too much smiling going on," said Ginny. "If you two are going to fight, please leave my plates and silverware alone, they're terribly expensive."

Ron burst out laughing. "No, no. We're not going to fight." He froze and looked at Hermione. "We're not, right?"

Hermione shook her head and threw her head back in laughter. "No, we're not. So the two of you, stop tip-toeing around me or I really will explode."

"Someone pick a new subject!" Harry pretended to panic.

Everyone around the table laughed and they began to eat. Even though in stories, situations such as this dictated tension or a hard glint on the surface of light and bubbles, life, for this group of Gryffindor at least, proved the contrary. And for that Hermione was very thankful for.


"DRACO!" Blaise shouted across the bar and a few heads turned. He scowled and as soon as he got close enough to the man, Draco smacked him on the head for making a scene.

"You will not believe this," Blaise exclaimed. "Prepare for yourself for the surprise of the century. You would have never imagined this."

"Believe me, my imagination is killer," Draco said wryly, thinking back to his little incident in Hullyton a few weeks prior. "What's up?"

"Draco!"

Pansy.

That was normal. And not particularly a cause for Blaise to rush to him in hysterics. Perhaps she was feeling excitable since it was the first time this month he'd seen Draco. Slowly, Draco swivelled around to the direction of her voice and promptly fell out of his chair in surprise.

"Hi, Draco," a new male voice said.

Okay, okay, now he understood why Blaise had this kind of reaction. His sometime sister and sometime-sort of brother were next to each other. A freckled and lean man had his muscular arm snaking around Pansy's waist.

"Adrian. It's nice to see you." He shifted uncomfortably. Since Adrian's father had become his patron and was considered his son, it made Adrian and him somewhat brothers though they hadn't hung around each other much. Adrian was the type to never leave his laboratory. Or so he thought, because… somehow, he was dating Pansy? How did they even meet? "How are you doing?"

"Good, good!" he said, taking the seat beside him. "We're on our way to our next break-through. I suspect you'll be able to read it in the papers soon enough. But you must've heard this all from Pansy."

"No, actually I haven't seen Pansy for almost a month," Draco said. It was true. "I've been busy… with work." That was less true.

"Yeah, dear Draco has been busy with work." Pansy grinned.

"Hm?" Adrian asked her.

"Oh, nothing."

"What is it?" Blaise pouted, not wanting to be left out of fun.

Draco inwardly cringed and hoped Pansy wouldn't say anything more. Somehow within ten seconds of interacting with him, she had guessed something was up.

"Well—" Pansy began. Draco grabbed her by the arm, unable to mask his desperation.

"I'll stretch this priceless piece of silk if you don't shut up right now."

Pansy giggled deliriously and Adrian, who seemed to have caught onto something, gave him a foxy grin. Draco decided he didn't really like just how well the blond-haired man got along with Pansy. It was scary. Pansy was already a force of nature by herself. Adrian was just the right amount of diabolical and daring to exacerbate the Pansy Effect into a national-scale catastrophe.

Adrian winked. "Don't worry, Draco." He put up his hand and placed it against his breast. "I'm always going to be on your side."

"Even if it's up against me?" Pansy batted her eyelashes at him.

"You didn't rescue me from a life of sitting behind a desk and taking over a company I have no interest in," he said, squeezing her cheeks.

"Makeup, my make up!" Pansy batted his hands away before he smudged anymore of her foundation off. "Not in public."

"If you guys don't tell me what's going on, I'm going to leave." Blaise pouted and crossed his arms.

"Yes, yes," Draco said, waving his hand. "Leave if you know what's good for you."

"It's old news," Pansy said as she took a seat next to Blaise. "Just Draco and his tortured soul."

"You mean you're still hung up about Astoria dumping your sorry ass? Isn't that old news already?"

"To set the record straight, I'm the one who dumped her. And I've been over her for quite a long time."

Blaise smirked. "That's not the word in town."

"You trust the word in town over your best friend?"

Pansy rolled her eyes at them and laced her fingers with Adrian's. "This is what I put up with all the time. If I hadn't known both of them since we were in diapers, I would've never given them a second glance. No one should fight unless they're fighting over me!"

Blaise and Draco rolled their eyes at exactly the same time, enemies turned comrades in face of Pansy's narcissism.

"Go back to older news," Pansy suggested.

"Oh, oh."

"How did you know?" Draco asked her, aghast at his privacy being invaded.

Pansy cackled. "You just confirmed it. You put the dumb in wisdom, dear boy."

"No one say a single word about this," Draco cautioned and glared, despite the stupid grin he could feel forming on his face. He straightened his face. "It could mean nothing."

"Oh yeah, for some people it means nothing to eat dinner together pretty much every day for a month," said Pansy with an all-knowing smirk.

"I'm sure you having dinner with someone pretty, well-liked around the company and smart for a whole month could mean nothing," added Blaise.

Draco scowled, not liking how Blaise attempted to define her with those three features. They were accurate descriptions. But there was just so much more to her. Pretty? That word didn't serve her any justice. Love poems could be dedicated to her face. Well-liked? That was like saying he was moderately wealthy. And smart? Hermione Granger was the sharpest woman he'd ever had the fortune and misfortune to meet.

"Draco likes to drag his relationships," Blaise explained to Adrian, waving his hand. "Thinks half the fun is the thrill of the chase."

"And Blaise likes to blurt out rubbish," countered Draco.

"How cute," Adrian cooed.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Say that again and you'll be the heir to Pucey's company."

Adrian stuck out his tongue. "You've worked too hard for to just give up like that."

"What's so great about being a scientist anyway?" Blaise yawned. "Even though I'm grateful for all the Muggle technology and all that."

"Because it's interesting to figure out how stuff works?"

"What? How's that interesting?" Blaise made a face and shook his head at Pansy. "I can't believe out of all the bachelors around you chose him."

"Hey!"


(the next night)

"I made too much to eat this all by myself."

Draco gave her a sweet smile and she heard a choir behind him. She handed her casserole to Draco as she took off her shoes at the entrance of Draco's door. Things were getting ridiculous. The excuses she made to meet up with him! She couldn't place a date on exactly when the routine started; it started as a non-regular casual thing. They'd share a meal together and she did this for a truthful reason half the time: they had work to finish off afterwards.

On one of the nights she had hung out with Pansy, the Slytherin had asked with a shit-eating grin about their 'dinner dates' and whether she had started going out with Draco. Hermione had answered no but that didn't stop Pansy from making ridiculous stories about Draco and Hermione being together.

Pansy with her sweetly terrible smiles suggested that obviously there was something going on. It made no sense to be sharing meals with each other so frequently if they weren't anything, she had said. And need she go into the history of how Draco had a flaming crush on her for the longest time?

But then there was Astoria, Hermione had argued.

Pansy had brushed off her counterargument with a wave of her hand. There was Astoria, and there was and is you.

Still, they weren't like that… probably. Yet, Pansy's smiles and words had an obvious effect. Because she would not stop thinking about what she had said about Draco. And Draco himself. Mainly the latter.

When Hermione entered his house, she glanced at her surroundings. The first time she came over, she had noticed not a single cushion across his sofa was out of place. Gradually, though, the house looked more and more like it was being occupied by a human being.

This time, everything was just as it was the last time she had visited: three days ago. As always, Draco's home always had a clean but comfortable smell, just the way a house would smell if it were only ever cleaned with magic.

"What?" Draco asked, not looking up as he rummaged through the first drawer of his kitchen bench.

"Nothing," she said. She turned her head away. Hermione couldn't have helped but stare, something she caught herself doing much too often. Her heart itched and she covered her reaction by looking at the ground. If he caught her staring, he'd been an even more of an arrogant prick than he was.

"Just looking at your new book collection," she said.

"What about it?" His eyes swept across the room and their eyes connected for three, graceless heartbeats. He looked down again, concentrating on gathering their knives and forks as though the sentience of men depended on it.

They'd been having these awkward moments more often than she could count, and their occurrence increased at an exponential rate. It scared her because at first it was confined to their nightly interactions, but now they started popping up during the daytime, while they were at work. She gave him a smile as she took a seat at the dining table.

He swallowed and stared at her. "What was that smile for?"

"I feel a strange connection with," she said. She paused, trying to gather her words and not sound creepy. "Your selection of books."

"Well," he said, letting out a slight laugh. "You are what you read."

Hermione nodded in response and poured herself a glass of wine. Some days they preferred to be formal and eat on the dining table (and what she deemed with class and manner, sipping red wine) while other times—often at Hermione's suggestion, they took their dinner by his coffee table, watching some terrible soap opera that was more addicting than both of them wanted to admit.

She watched Draco take a sip from his own glass. There were times when she didn't know how to behave around him. When she forgot how she acted around him before, before all this. Whatever this was. She made a face, wondering if it would be weird to lean just a bit closer.

"What's eating you up?" Draco asked when he saw the torn expression on her face. "Something driving you crazy?"

(YOU ARE) "It's the Pansy Effect," she replied. She shot out of her chair and paced around the room. She grabbed her hair between her fingers and tugged. Then, she let out a loud sigh that expelled all the air in her lungs. "I'm going insane. I can't take this anymore."

"What's wrong?" he said, jumping out of his seat.

"I hate being like this, I don't know if you're used to it or something, but I hate being manipulated by her. I can't get her words out of my head."

"Uh-oh, what did Pansy do?"

"YOU!"

"I assure you, Pansy Parkinson has not done me for a very very very long time," Draco said with a laugh. She was quite a sight when she worked herself up in a rage.

She glared at him and scowled. "You know what I mean."

"I'm trying to understand," he said, his voice sincere.

"Okay." She veered towards him. Each footfall grew louder than its previous one until she was almost stomping at his feet. Hermione grabbed him by the shoulders. Draco flinched at the sudden contact and looked up at Hermione, who was staring him down.

"Because where we are right now," Hermione said, "is driving me nuts. You know I'm the type that has to keep moving forward. I need progress and I need to know where I am standing to make that progress. I'm the shark remember? If I don't swim forward, I can't breathe. I die."

"All right…" Draco said softly and relaxed in her tight grip.

She paused to look away and she loosened her grip on his shoulder. She took a few steps back before continuing, "I mean, I'm not saying you're leading me on or anything, but I just… have you ever thought of us, do you think since everything is so different than before..." She pursed her lips and started again. "Have you ever thought about us? Do you think we have a chance?"

An involuntary smile started to creep up Draco face, but he tried to keep it down. His next words had to be careful.

"And to be honest, you've noticed, right? I'm not even remotely interested in making food, but I have been making dinner all the time."

"I can make it from now on," Draco offered.

"Yeah, that would be nice. I'm sure you are better at cooking than I am," said Hermione. "The point is, I have been doing all these things that I wouldn't have normally done. And I don't think I would have done these things if it hadn't been for you. So what are your thoughts? I realise I haven't given you a chance to respond yet."

Draco leaned back in his seat and considered his next words. They were going to be very important. He knew how he felt, and a few years ago he would have only imagined Hermione saying what she just said to him in the sweetest of his dreams.

Yet, because this was real, and because it was happening he would have to think clearly and rationally about this. Yes, he had feelings for Hermione. And while for some people, that was probably enough because, in their world, love conquered all, Draco Malfoy wasn't that sort. He was too jaded from his life choices to jump into something again just because he felt something was right.

No, what he needed was to think about this carefully. "We have a lot of history and although a lot has changed between us. Would we be suitable?" Draco asked Hermione. "I mean you just came out of a long-term relationship, not long ago."

"You're not a substitute for Ron, you know that. And I pride myself to be smart enough to properly get over someone before starting something new."

"I trust that you have gotten over Ron if you say you have," said Draco. He nodded his head. "I think I am over Astoria too. But how can we guarantee that this isn't just some rush of emotions of being lonely or something like that?"

"I get what you mean and have considered this," Hermione said, crossing her arms. She pulled a chair out from the under the table so that she know sat beside Draco. Close, but not so close that their knees would touch. "Do you like me?" she asked quickly.

"I mean, obviously," said Draco. "I am attracted to you. It would be ridiculous to invite you or have you come over for dinner nearly every day and go "whoops" I didn't know how that would be interpreted."

"That gives me some hope. And I have considered the fact that we do work together," Hermione said. "How it might affect our dynamics and all."

"And your risk analysis of this situation is?"

"Worth a shot. I suppose this is why we are having a conversation." Hermione had always been the greater risk taker. After all, she was the more courageous one of the two.

Draco nodded. If it had been anyone else, that might've been a deal breaker. And even when they fought there really was only that one incidence where they failed to work properly together as a team. If it was the two of them, it could work out. But… there was a greater concern for him. "Even though you don't know me in the real sense?"

Hermione frowned. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about? I know we haven't been friends for long, but I would like to think I have a better handle on your personality than most."

"Look, there are some things about me and if you find out, you wouldn't be able to handle it. If we become more than friends, hell, if you start meaning more to me than what you are now, and you leave… I don't know..."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What are you trying to say? I can't say I offer you unconditional companionship, but I can at least promise you that I would try to listen and understand. I'm Hermione Granger, I can handle it."

"I don't know if I can," Draco said, throwing up his hands. "It's just... how do I put this... I don't know who I am. I need to find myself first."

That sounded like a terrible excuse. The kind of answer to reject someone who you didn't really like, but didn't want to offend when a stranger asked you out on the street. Draco could do better than that. So he tried to explain himself again: "A relationship is about two people committing to each other. Agreed?"

"Yes, it is."

"And recently, it's become clearer and clearer to me. I want to make sure the other person, namely you, know what you are committing to. If I am lucky enough to have to express something similar to 'I love you' one day to me, I want to make sure that I am not misleading you into thinking I am something better than I am not."

Hermione realized this was not some evading tactic, and there was really something, something Draco was struggling with. "Everyone is trying to find out who they are," she said, more gently this time. "I don't think most people in the world know exactly who they are. It's the experiences and relationships with other people that shape his or her identities."

"Well," he said, looking away and one of his hands scratched the back of the neck. "Give me a moment. I'm not sure I can put it to words." Time stood still as Draco looked at her with some sick panic. Not the kind of expression one would have when declaring their undying love. Hermione leaned back in her chair and gave him a nervous smile.

"You're not dying from some terminal illness, right?" She joked, trying to break the tension.

"No, I'm not." Draco winced and looked away, trying to gather up the courage to tell Hermione of his worst fear... and he wondered how she would react. Could he handle the rejection from someone who with the slightest whisper would cause an avalanche in his heart?

"Draco, you're scaring me. If you want me to never bring up about dating again, I…"

Draco leaned forward to grab Hermione's hands in his. As Draco wove his fingers against hers, his palms were slick with sweat. Draco took a deep breath and exhaled, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"I don't know who I am... and it's not just only about my place in society... that I can handle. Just barely. But I think I think the Court might've made a mistake."

"What kind of mistake?" Hermione didn't need to ask further to know he was talking about the Death Eater Trials.

"My memory was patchy, and it was gone. From all the medical results and my mother's testimony, I was so sure everything is the way they told it was." Draco swallowed. "But, lately, I have been having recurring dreams. At first, I thought they were nightmares. Or some manifestation of post-trauma. But the thing is, I don't think they're part of my imagination. It's become clearer and clearer to me each day. I was only suspicious about it before, but I am almost certain now. After half a decade, the memory charm must be wearing off. Fragments of my repressed memory must be coming back. I see myself holding a wand. And my father is there. He's not fighting or anything. He's sitting. He's sitting and then there is a flash of green. Hermione, I think I killed my father."

"Oh…"

"I might've gotten away with murder. I have no idea what happened during my father's last moments, but before I let you commit yourself to me in any shape or form, I need to find out the truth. Bad boys are only attractive in fiction," he said. "Or would you consider dating a murderer?"

She shook her head violently. She squeezed Draco's hands in hers. "I-I don't believe it," she started. "I can't imagine you, even in your darkest hours would be capable of taking your father's life."

"Oh really." He pulled his hands away from hers. And crossed his arms defensively. "Because I was such an upstanding citizen back then. I've always been too much of a coward to ask, but do you think I was under the Imperius Curse? Didn't you find it strange that I can't even remember what happened for the two years during the war? How do you explain the fact that I couldn't kill Dumbledore if I had been commanded by the Imperius curse?"

"In cases of extreme cases of hesitation, when the command is so repugnant, the body may succumb to its natural desires—"

Doesn't my whole situation strike you as odd, implausible, and utter bullshit?"

"Do you think you've done it?" Hermione said, her eyes starting to feel hot with tears. She started to grab his hands again, but Draco recoiled from her as though she was the murder suspect.

"I don't know," he said, his voice breaking with the turmoil pulsing through his conscience. "That's what I have been asking myself every day since the trials. I see flashes... and they might be real, or they might just be a product of my imagination. I just know if I was a Death Eater out of my own will, then I would be the scum of the earth. That would mean I would have wanted to kill every non-pureblood. It's possible. I know I grew up like this. Merlin knows how I treated you before… I—I could have gotten so violent, twisted and evil, I could have killed my father. I'm going to take a look at my case file and see if I can uncover the truth. And until then… I don't know what to say. I like you, and I'm sorry to have been so thoughtless about my actions. I shouldn't have led you on."

He tried not to let his disappointment show and he kicked himself for not seriously thinking through his actions before he had acted on them. He pressed his forehead down onto the dining table. He couldn't bear to look at Hermione. What was he thinking, inviting her over and encouraging her to grow her feelings? So what if he liked her back?

Perhaps, it was better this way—she would leave and though he might have blown their chances of becoming something more, their friendship still might be salvaged after this ordeal.

"Draco…" Hermione said and Draco couldn't resist himself and he turned to face her, and was surprised with what he saw.

"W-Why are you crying?" But then he took a better look at her. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. Yet, she looked so determined. And it occurred to Draco there was no dichotomy between strength and tears. Although her face was twisted and tears dribbled down her chin, she refused to look away from him and there was a fire in her eyes that he had delighted in, and had fallen for.

"I'm crying because you're so stupid!" she yelled. "Are you an idiot?"

"What?" Too stunned to move away.

"I know you. I've seen you at your worst, but I know you would never kill someone." She was still sniffling as she barreled into him and hugged him so tightly, he felt as though she had cast a Body-bind jinx on him. "And I'm not saying this because I'm blind and have feelings for you. What's the first presumption of criminal law?"

And it was the most inopportune moment to indulge in Hermione pressing against him. "Oh, um, um," he said, still trying to clear his head.

"The presumption of innocence!" she said, squeezing him tighter. "Surprise pop quiz, what does that mean?"

"Innocent until proven guilty."

"And if the prosecutor can't prove anything beyond reasonable doubt—and you of all people must remember how hard they tried—then you deserve a full acquittal. The jury found you innocent and your case's closed. You're innocent in the legal sense and that is as good as it gets. Having something decided by a professional through a hugely inefficient process of fact-finding, witness testimonies, and medical examinations… that's plenty enough for me, and I'm a fanatic about small details. Why isn't it good enough for you? And you're supposed to be on your side, why are you trying to incriminate yourself even after the whole case is over? What makes you think you can find out the truth, when the whole government was trying to prove you were guilty? What happens when you don't come up with the definitive answer you're looking for?"

"But…" It was hard to stop Hermione once she started her tirade. She smelt blood and she kept attacking until she shred his unfortunate his argument) into pieces.

"I mean, have you tried going to a professional about your nightmares? Or gone to get a check-up?"

"No…" Draco said.

"I understand how you are feeling, and I am glad that you have shared this with me. But here's the thing, you don't have to deal with this all by yourself. If you are willing, I can help you and together we can work through this." She gave him a hug as though squashing his insides would convince him of her view.

"I take back what I said at the beginning of our conversation. And I am not rescinding my invitation to date because I don't like what I've learnt about you or anything. But you are correct, the timing isn't right for us to begin anything—for the wrong reasons though," Hermione said. "I know you didn't do it. The prosecutors were out for your blood, and they couldn't find anything to send you to prison. The media was eye-balling your trial to make sure the procedures were fair and even then, they couldn't find anything to throw at you aside from rumours and rubbish."

"But…"

"And more importantly, what matters is what you are now, not as what you were. But regardless, you obviously don't feel ready. Will you let me be part of this? Help you work through it?"

Well, when you put it that way. Perhaps this was the Hermione Effect. Her offer was very persuasive. Draco, a little part of him terrified, a large part of him besotted, gave The Woman a small nod when he realized something. Hermione Granger, Queen of Actualised Symbolism was physically refusing to let him go.