Author's Note: Took a little longer than I thought, but here's the next chapter. I'm hoping to turn an eye back on The Professor this week, and maybe update that on Friday or Saturday, and if all goes well another chapter of Mugglefied early next week. My whole head is abuzz with plots and I promise I'm trying to avoid starting 6 new stories at once. And…I took the plunge I've been thinking about since I got back into writing fan fiction a few years ago. At the suggestion of many, many people over the last ten years, I've finally changed my user name. Is it weird? I wanted to find a way to still include the old user name in case people were still searching for my stories under that name, and this was the best I came up with, so I hope it's okay. I wish FFN would have let me include parenthesis in it like Facebook does with maiden names. C'est la vie, right?

Chapter 36: Solutions

Draco woke up curled up around Hermione, his arm around her midsection, his fingers against her skin where her shirt had ridden up. If a person had to wake up, this was a very good way to do it. He breathed deeply. His eyes opened gradually, and he looked at the witch beside him.

He knew he was lucky to have her in his life. Salazar. Some days he worried she might wake up and realize that she was too good for him. All he could do was try to live up to what she did deserve. To be fair to himself, he didn't think he'd been doing a terrible job so far. He'd planned some romantic dates. He did his share of the dishes and cooking and tried to take care of her as much as she took care of him.

Bloody McGonagall. She'd thought sending Hermione to plead her case in addition to the letter would have helped. He hadn't read the letter, but if McGonagall thought asking Hermione to plead her case for her was going to persuade him…he would have shaken his head if he wasn't worried about waking Hermione. He looked at her, half under the duvet, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

The thought of going back to Hogwarts made him feel like the walls were going to close in on him, and that those walls were stained with blood. He took a deep, steadying breath.

Hermione's eyelids fluttered open and she smiled at him sleepily. "How are you?"

"Better than yesterday," he said quietly.

The pair of them lay in bed and twined their fingers together on top of the duvet. "You don't have to go. I don't know where McGonagall got the nerve to even ask—"

"She asked because she had to. What if she's right? What if something I say might stop someone else from doing what I did?" His chest felt tight at the thought of going, but Salazar. He couldn't live with anymore damn guilt.

Hermione reached out and stroked the side of his face. "You don't have to decide now." She could practically hear his heart racing.

His breath was shallow, but he met her eyes and slowly managed to draw deeper breaths. His heart rate slowed. He started to lean over to kiss her and raised his eyebrow when he saw her turn her head aside and offer her cheek.

"I have morning breath," she muttered.

"Doesn't matter," he said, leaning toward her again.

She dodged, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "And what if I'm afraid of your morning breath?"

Draco stared at her for half a moment, and then chuckled. "Well, tough." He leaned in again and this time they kissed.

"Are you ready for breakfast?" she asked, as they pulled apart.

They left the comfort of Draco's bed and went into the kitchen. Hermione attempted to straighten out the clothes she'd been wearing for over a day. They'd gotten all tangled while she slept. While Draco turned on the coffeemaker, Hermione opened the fridge and pulled out eggs and sausages to start cooking.

They didn't speak much as they got breakfast ready, but there were the sounds and smells of the kitchen, and the comfort of knowing someone else was there. The pair of them were perfectly content to spend the day in Draco's flat, pretending the outside world didn't exist. They could keep themselves entertained.

However, there was a knock on the door about mid-afternoon. Draco and Hermione stared at the door a little uncertainly. They'd been curled up on the couch, only half paying attention to what was on television.

"Who is that?" Hermione asked.

Draco stared, baffled. "I don't know. You and the Aurors are the only ones that ever come over, and they're not due again for weeks.

Someone knocked again.

"You may as well go see who it is," Hermione said, nudging him in the ribs.

Reluctantly, Draco eased himself off the couch and opened the door. To his utter shock, George Weasley was standing there, looking like he probably hadn't changed his robes or shaved in a couple of days.

"Hermione's on the couch," Draco said, standing aside to let the wizard in.

"Actually, I'm here to talk to you." The redhead ran his fingers through his hair and looked from Draco to Hermione. "I just finished reading your notes. It works. It all works. At least, I think it will. You said Draco came up with this?" he asked, looking at the witch on the couch.

Draco shut the door. "What did I come up with?"

George was too excited to sit down and paced back and forward as he spoke. Just watching him made Draco exhausted and he rejoined Hermione on the couch, raising an eyebrow at her. Evidently, after their discussion of the mirror spell the other night, Hermione had made detailed notes on things to try that she just hadn't had a chance to yet. Well, George had finally read over the notes she left with him. The mirror spell should work. There was no reason why they couldn't all have the wizarding equivalent of mobile phones, and no reason why Weasley's Wizard Wheezes couldn't have the whole market.

Eventually, George did sit down as the three of them got deeper into the discussion of exactly what had been going wrong with the mirror and how they were going to make it right. George admitted, "I didn't know you were any good at this sort of thing, Malfoy."

"Well, a malfunctioning mirror, a broken vanishing cabinet…I can fix things," he said, without humor.

George nodded. "It's a knack. And it's damn useful. We should all get to the shop. I want to try this out."

Draco snorted, looking at the man in disbelief. "I'm not sure, but I'd rather assume that just walking into Diagon Alley violates my parole. I can theorize with you about these mirrors, but that's about it. No magic."

The Weasley man swore under his breath. "Hermione, are you coming?"

"Can't it wait 'til Monday?" she asked.

George looked briefly pained. "I have to know if this is going to work."

She glanced at Draco. "You can bring the supplies over to my flat. You and I could work there, and Draco can chime in if he sees something we need. If you want," she said, directing her last comment to Draco. "If you're just over at my flat and not doing any magic, I don't see how it could be a violation of your sentence."

As soon as George was outside the anti-Apparation wards on Draco's flat, he Disapparated. Hermione kissed Draco and they went their separate ways. They needed showers and fresh clothes before George got back.

Afternoon disappeared into evening and evening into late night by the time the three of them declared their victory, but a victory it was. George and Hermione had three working mirrors that could contact one another. Of course, Draco had performed no spells, but he'd clarified some of the notes Hermione had had on what he thought the original problem might be.

George leaned back in his chair, helping himself to one of the remaining slices of pizza from earlier. "We did it."

"We did," Hermione agreed, yawning.

The Weasley man looked at Draco. "I knew Hermione was brilliant, but I didn't know you could do something like this." He looked at him appraisingly. "Not tonight but…could I pick your brain over one or two other things sometime soon?"

Draco chuckled.

"What?"

"I just never thought you'd say those words to me." He took a sip of his drink.

George laughed. "Well, you're not exactly anybody I would have thought about going into business with, but…you've got the talent. If this isn't just a one-off stroke of brilliance for you, maybe I'll bring you on as an consultant."

Hermione smiled, looking between Draco and George. Maybe there was a place for Draco in the wizarding world when all was said and done after all. Not that she was going to force the idea.

The blonde scoffed. "If you think this was a one-off, you are sorely underestimating me. What else have you got?"

Hermione listened with one ear as George and Draco continued to chatter and she cleared up the dishes from earlier. "Well, you boys are welcome to do as you like, but some of us have to get up early for work. I think I've got to call it a night soon."

George pushed back from the table and ran his fingers through his hair. "I suppose I should go. I've got to be at the Ministry early tomorrow to file this. We did it." He grinned. Not wanting to splinch himself Apparating tired, he gathered up the mirrors and Flooed home.

Draco and Hermione looked at one another. "I suppose we should call it a night."

"We should," he agreed.

"Last night was nice." There was a pause for a moment, and then she asked, "Do you want to stay over?"

There was no hesitation. "Yes."

Hermione took him by the hand and they went into her bedroom.

Draco was checking in all the books that came in to the out of hours drop box almost automatically. He liked waking up with Hermione, even if she stole the covers. Though really, her bed was nowhere near as comfortable as his own. He would have thought a witch as bright as her might have come up with a decent charm for her mattress at some point, but evidently not.

He glanced up as a child—probably too young to be of Hogwarts age, though he was rubbish at telling that sort of thing—came in on her own. It was shortly after lunch time. She gave a cheery smile and went passed the desk. He couldn't help but wonder what she was doing alone. And shouldn't she be in school?

As Draco finished with the books and moved on to some of his other tasks for the day he glanced back in the direction of the girl who'd come in on her own. She was at the computer in the back. He shrugged. Theresa had never given him an age limit on unaccompanied minors and the girl wasn't causing him any problems.

Theresa approached the counter. "How is it going today, Draco?"

"The usual. Everything is scanned in. Anything else you need me to do?"

"Not yet." She leaned on the counter, in no apparent rush to go anywhere else. "When you first started volunteering here, you were writing. Are you still writing?"

"I've written what needed writing. Not that I'll do anything with it." Had it all been a waste of time?

Theresa nodded knowingly. "Some things need to be written just to be written and make sense of what's in your head. Other things need to be written to be read. Something to think about." She called out for one of the afternoon volunteers to take the cart of books and start shelving them and got Draco started on his next task for the afternoon.

The shop was quiet, though there was a suppressed buzz of excitement around George and Lee. They couldn't wait to start selling the mirrors and had already started creating a stock of them in secret now that the spell-work had all been proven sound and they'd been able to order a supply of the physical parts they needed.

Lee was minding the front of the shop at the moment while Hermione assisted George in the back. "Malfoy was shockingly brilliant in all this, wasn't he?" George asked, easing together the mirror and it's frame, with the necessary spell components between them.

"He's full of surprises," she agreed. She shook her head. "If you ever tell him this, I'll deny it, but…I think I've always had the sub-conscious assumption that someone who picked the wrong side in the war probably wasn't quite as smart as the rest of us. The right side was just so obvious, I couldn't understand how anyone could not see it. Except maybe Crabbe and Goyle. Knowing Draco a little better now…it's not that he was stupid. He made bad choices. He was raised differently. But not stupid. He's brilliant when he's got some motivation to apply himself, and he's got a knack for fixing magical objects."

George set the latest finished mirror into the pile. He was doing the first part of the casting and then Hermione would go through for the second part, and then they'd all get tested before getting boxed. "I meant what I said the other night about bringing him in to consult. I don't know if he and I could manage in here all day together—very different personalities—but I could use another hand for troubleshooting." He tilted his head to one side and looked at her. "I've rather gotten the impression that you're not sure how long you'll be able to stay."

Hermione was startled enough to stop in the middle of her wand movement on the spell. She grimaced and did an all-purpose cut off spell She'd have to start over on this one. "What makes you say that?"

He put down what he was working on and leaned his elbows on the counter. "I know you pretty well for one thing. You're enjoying this and it's fun, but it's not what you're passionate about. I know you've got bigger goals. And I've seen that your time here is kind of shrinking. And that's okay. Come when you can, and I'll manage when you can't." He let out a breath. "I've been putting it off, but Lee and I really need to hire at least one person, maybe two, to run things in the front of the shop so we can work on product development and keep the inventory up. Probably wouldn't hurt to bring someone in to package everything so we can do all the other stuff." He sat back in his chair and leaned it back on the two back legs.

"Don't do that. You'll break your neck," she said, almost automatically. She smiled at him fondly. "I have enjoyed this, but there are other things I'm probably going to start focusing on in the coming months. I've got my apprenticeship to see out, and I'm planning to start an organization to improve the lives of werewolves, but I haven't the faintest idea where to start. I thought the best place to start would be to make a potion, have it available for free and go from there, but—"

"—it's so much more complicated than that," he finished.

"It is. I don't even know how to get the message to them. If we still had Remus…" She shrugged and tried not to look too bitter.

George bit his lip and thought for a moment. "Percy could help. Not specifically with the werewolves I mean, but he's good at getting himself in with the right folks at the Ministry to make things happen. Dad has been there longer of course and knows a lot of the ins and outs, but Percy's got his own stamp of capability. You might talk to both of them about how to organize what you're doing."

Hermione blinked. "I hadn't thought of that. I don't know why…"

"You don't have to do everything on your own you know. You've got family." He swallowed once and squeezed her hand. In general in his life it wasn't often he cast aside humor in favor of being serious. Since Fred passed he'd been downright somber. But he was doing better. Every day was better.

"You have family too, George. I know she's not Fred, but have you thought about asking Ginny to help out in the shop?"

"She'd be good at it. She's got a wicked wand. I don't know if she'd do it though."

"You won't know unless you ask." She kissed him on the cheek. "I've got to head out for the night, but you've given me a lot to think on." She would have to write to Percy and Arthur. Or maybe visit them. She hadn't seen either of them since Christmas.

"You too. G'night." He watched her go.

Draco and Hermione were curled up together on her bed. They frequently switched between one flat and the other. Her kitchen was better stocked, but his mattress had better charms in it.

Something had been niggling at the back of her mind all week and she couldn't remember what it was, but it finally came to her. "Draco, did we ever reply to the letters your mother sent a couple weeks ago?"

It took him a moment to recall that there ever had been a letter. "About the homecoming party? Salazar no. I probably ought to."

"You should if you don't want to find yourself whisked away to a party with several dozen of your closest friends just after your meeting with the Wizengammot."

He shuddered. Hermione was really his only friend anymore. Did anyone else—who hadn't had contact with him in most of a year now—have the right to call themselves his friend? He supposed he and Potter had a truce these days. And he could tolerate the remaining Weasley twin. And Aunt Dromeda wasn't decent. He wondered what it would have been like to grow up in a family that didn't blast people off the family tree and disown them for marrying someone the family didn't like. He supposed he'd never know now. "I'll call write her back first thing tomorrow if you'll send the letter. Do we have plans with Potter tomorrow?" It sounded vaguely familiar, but he wasn't sure it was true.

"Yes, he and Andromeda are coming by with Teddy at 11. We haven't seen them in a while."

He nodded and wrapped his arms around her, his fingertips resting on her hip below her t-shirt. He kissed her neck. "I suppose we ought to sleep then. Family is exhausting."

Hermione tilted her head, exposing her neck to him. He was a tease sometimes. There were certain lines that hadn't been crossed yet. They didn't want to rush. But Merlin it was tempting sometimes. She made a soft sound, and yawned. "I suppose you're right. It'll be a long day." She kissed his cheek and rolled over, murmuring, "Good night." She was almost certain there was a sound of disappointment from him and she grinned. She rolled back over again. "Well, we could stay up for a few more minutes."

"Just a few," he agreed, leaning in to kiss her.