"Um, so what's with the fish thing?" Draco asked.

"It's a... thing," Hermione laughed. "It's from this book my dad and I like; The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Very silly. Very British. I'll loan it to you sometime; remind me when we get back, okay?"

They walked outside and stopped at the sidewalk. "I didn't think about how we were going to get there," Hermione confessed. "I would usually drive, but we're going to Apparate back..." she looked around, unsure of what to do.

"How far is it?" Draco asked.

"Not far, actually. Three miles, tops?"

He shrugged. "We could walk it. It's a nice enough night, and if we're quick about it, we'll make it there before close."

"Yeah, I guess so."

They walked in mostly silence for a good ten minutes, both thinking about the day. It was Draco who spoke first. "I'm glad we came."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"Wait, you thought it would be bad?" she asked.

"Well, it's just that it's my first time out of the house in... well, you know. And I was pretty sure your parents would hate me. But I don't have to worry about people knowing me here, so there's a certain sense of freedom about it. And your parents, they're really nice people. You're dad is a bit strange, but in a good way."

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, you could say that."

"You're very... relaxed around them. Like you're friends, or something."

She smiled. "Well, we are, in a way. I mean, I'm their kid, and they drive me barmy sometimes, but we love each other. And we get along."

He nodded. "And what's that like?"

"It's nice. It wasn't like that with your parents, was it?"

"No, not exactly. Not all all, actually. I was the only son of two pureblood, aristocratic bloodlines. There were rules," he said dryly.

"You don't talk about them."

"No, I don't. There's not a whole lot to say that people wouldn't guess for themselves. They were public people; the way you saw them behave out of the home was very much like the way they behaved inside the home. I mean, they loved me; at least I know Mother did. She didn't grow up knowing how to love; it wasn't something she learned at home, but she did her best with me. Still, the way you are with your parents... it would be seen as improper to the extreme." He waved her away. "Anyway, I had a good time with your parents. And you?"

She smiled. "Yeah, I had a good time. I feel better after seeing Mum and Dad; more settled, like I'd hoped. Grimmauld Place isn't far from here, not really. But it seems like a different world sometimes." She sighed. "Even still... I don't know if I can just leave it all behind again and come home."

"Then don't," Draco muttered.

"It's not that easy," she argued. "I don't have a place in that world. If I'm not a witch, then what am I doing there? If you haven't noticed, Squibs aren't exactly welcomed with open arms."

He stopped in his tracks. "Did you just compare yourself to a sodding squib?"

"Well, you know what I mean." She waved him off.

"No, I don't know what you mean. A squib... shit. A squid isn't capable of magic, Hermione. I'm sure they'd love to have the kind of power we have, but they can't. It's just not in them. But you... you're a witch, whether you like it or not. You can ignore it, you can push it away, but it's still inside you. And as long as you're breathing, it's going to be there. If you continue to fight it, it will devour you from the inside, just like it did before. You have a choice to make, it's true, but it's not whether to be a Muggle or a fucking squib." He walked ahead, much faster than he'd been walking before.

"You're right."

He stopped again. "Pardon me?"

"You're right." She held up her hands. "But I don't know if it changes anything."

He stepped closer towards her until he was looking down into her eyes. "It changes everything. You did magic today for the first time in years, Granger. You were afraid, but you did it. And look, I'm not stuck in that bloody old house. That was you, understand? I wouldn't have left on my own. Whether or not you use it, you have power over things, and people. It's a part of you, and it will show itself one way or another."

She stared up at him, holding her breath. Was he going to kiss her again? There was a certain tension in the air, and she waited, not willing to move.

He broke their gaze and the mood when he turned away and said, "So where's this fancy coffee you promised me?"

"Just around the block."

They picked up the pace and walked into the door of the cafe just seven minutes before close. When they both had a drink in hand, Hermione led them to her store. She was so excited to see Marek and Edwin, she'd completely forgotten. "Erm, Malfoy. Speaking of squibs... I sort of let something slip my mind, something you probably need to know. Marek, he's one of my bosses, well... he's a squib. He lives as a Muggle, but there's a possibility that he may know who you are."

Draco just stared at her, silent.

"I mean, he won't do anything, or say anything. His partner, Edwin, doesn't even know that magic exists. And Mare, he's very open-minded. But I thought you should know. If you want to turn back, or wait outside, I'll understand."

"Are you sure he won't do anything? Sell a story to the Prophet, or stone me, or anything like that?" She shook her head no. "Well, then lead on, Granger, before they close."

The bell above the door rang and Edwin looked up in surprise. "No. It can't be." He looked to the back of the store and called, "Mare! It's our prodigal daughter!"

Marek walked as quickly as possible up to the front without running (because such a thing was decidedly uncouth, Hermione was sure). "You!" he cried, and hugged her tightly. "You little devil, leaving us like that! Where the bloody hell have you been, love?"

"I got help." She shrugged, and Marek nodded knowingly.

"So everything is... normal?" he asked.

"As normal as my life can be," she said.

He smiled and hugged her tight again, and then Edwin pulled her into an embrace. "We're just glad you're feeling like yourself again, love." His grip on her tightened and she laughed at exuberance shown by both men.

"Me too, Eddy. Oh! And this..." she looked around. "Um, did you see someone come in with me?"

"Tall, blonde and handsome?" Edwin teased. "He's lost among the racks, I'm afraid."

Hermione followed his gesture to the middle of the store where Draco was hurriedly scanning the shelves. "I told him the store closes soon; I think he wants to browse a bit."

Edwin squeezed her shoulder. "Oh come now, angel. You know we'd stay open late for you. Now I need to start on the deposit, but make yourself comfortable."

She frowned. "Could you wait a few minutes until we've looked around? I could really use some new reading material, and Dra... my friend will probably buy something as well. We'll be quick about it, I promise."

He shooed her away. "Your money's no good here, love, and same goes for your handsome friend. And you will tell me more about him later."

"Nothing to tell, Eddy."

"Mmmhmm. Tell that to your face; that smile's bigger than I've seen it for months." Hermione just shook her head and headed back towards the stacks.

Marek followed her and pulled her into a far corner. "Your friend, that's Draco Malfoy, isn't it? I recognize him from the Prophet."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Yes, it is.

"What on earth are you doing with him?" he hissed.

"He's been helping me with my little problem," she said. "He lives with Ron and Harry, and Elizabeth, too. You remember her."

"Wait, your friend who visits, Elizabeth? I don't understand."

"Elizabeth's real name is Astoria," Hermione explained, "and she's sort of Draco's adopted sister. They both live with Ron and Harry; have been for two years now. And Malfoy... he's a good guy, Mare, I promise. He's not his father, and he's not a Dark wizard. I wouldn't trust him if Harry didn't."

"You trust him? Completely?"

Hermione bit her lip and then nodded. "Yeah, I do."

"Well I suppose that's good enough for me. Just be careful, love."

"I will," she vowed.

Between looking at books and talking to both Marek and Edwin, they had spent over an hour and a half at the store. It was getting close to 10pm, and they walked out of the small shop weighed down by a very large stack of books. Hermione suggested that Draco shrink them down so they'd be easier to carry (as he'd done with her clothes and some trinkets from her room), but he just smiled and shook his head. "I don't mind carrying them." He ran his finger along the bindings. His very own Muggle books. He'd found one on magical history and lore (he was curious as to the Muggle view of such things), one similar to Hermione's humanities text (but less dull), two books on art, and then an assortment of literature.

Hermione suggested a location that would be best for Apparating; it was largely unpopulated and had many trees to hide behind. They were halfway there when Draco stopped to rearrange the books in his arms.

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry some of those?" she asked.

"No, I've got it." He bent to arrange the books into a more balanced stack and stood again. "Hey, Granger, I wanted to thank you for today. It was good. A good day."

"I should be thanking you. I got to see my parents, eat one of my favorite meals, and see two of my favorite people. And look!" She pointed at the load in his arms, "More books!"

"That Mongolian beef was amazing, by the way. I wonder if I could replicate it at home." He'd said home again, like it was theirs. He wondered if she'd notice.

"I dunno, but it would be brilliant if you could. Story once told me that Mongolian beef is good for the soul, and I think she's right."

"She knew them, Marek and Edwin? And your parents?"

"Yeah. She was there for me when I really needed someone. She's a good friend; actually, make that a great friend."

"Granger, are we friends?"

The question took her by surprise. "I suppose..." she ventured.

"Good," he nodded. "I thought so. I was just checking."

Before she had a real chance to ponder his question further, they were there. Draco reached out his elbow and Hermione took it. He looked down at her and smiled, and then they were gone.


The moment they opened the door to Grimmauld Place (having landed on the front stoop), everything changed.

Voices were heard all around them; they echoed from the kitchens, from the living room, from remote places upstairs. And each of them called their names.

Astoria got to them first, her eyes wild with worry. "Where on earth have you BEEN?" she screeched, her voice like squealing tires.

Then there was Harry, asking if they were alright. And then Ron, asking if Malfoy had somehow coerced Hermione out of the house with him as some sort of dastardly, evil scheme. Neville just stood there with his hands in his pockets, a bemused look on his face.

Neither Hermione nor Draco knew how to respond to the onslaught. Finally, after assuring everyone that yes, she was fine, she held up a hand for silence. "Didn't anyone read my note?" she asked.

"Like a note isn't easily forged. Or forced," said Ron.

"It's just that it didn't make sense," said Astoria.

"What part of 'Malfoy and I are going to visit my mum and dad, back sometime after dinner,' didn't make sense?" Hermione asked.

"The part with you and Malfoy, for one," said Ron.

"And the whole leaving the house bit sort of threw us," said Neville. "I mean, there's not a lot of precedent there, mate," he said apologetically, looking at Draco.

"Granger promised me Mongolian Beef," said Draco, "not that it's anyone's business in the slightest where the hell I choose to spend my time." He turned and started to walk away, and then came back and stood in front of Ron. "Or who I choose to spend it with," he hissed. And with that, he took off upstairs and slammed the door, juggling his books all the way.

"Alright everyone, 'Mione seems to be safe and sound, you can all go about your business," Astoria said, shooing the rest of the boys away. She marched Hermione up the stairs to the attic, not making a sound until the door was closed. "So what the hell happened, then?"

"I already told you. I wanted to see my mum and Dad, and Draco volunteered to come with me. Or was coerced, or whatever. There was a bit of hysterics and the promise of good food involved." She avoided Astoria's gaze as best she could.

"So you two just, what, decided to take a stroll to Muggle London?"

"Well, no, we took the floo."

"WAIT! You did magic!"

"Just a little bit," said Hermione, holding her thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

"That's... well that's just..." Astoria was at a loss for words. It was great, wasn't it? It felt great.

"It doesn't mean anything, Story. I still feel the same way. It was just for today, understand? I wanted to see my parents, and I wanted to eat Chinese food, and sip mochas, and visit the bookstore. That's all it was."

"Wait." Astoria held up her hand. "So you were there all day? You and Draco. Together. Visiting your parents, eating Chinese food, sipping mochas and visiting the bookstore? You've got to be kidding me."

Hermione shrugged. "It was pretty fun, actually."

Astoria clapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes got wide. "Oh my gods. You went on a date with Draco Malfoy."

"I did not!"

"Yes, yes you did. You took him to meet your parents, you took him to dinner, and then dessert, and then to meet your friends and see where you worked. Oh Merlin, you went on a bloody DATE!"

"No! It wasn't like that. I didn't take him to dinner, we got take-away and ate at home with Mum and Dad. And the coffee wasn't dessert, it was just on the way, and I wanted to see Marek and Edwin. I wasn't going to chain him up outside like a dog."

"No, no of course not." Astoria's eyes glittered with mischief. "Nothing at all like that. You just had him over to mummy and daddy's, where he sat and talked and ate dinner. And then you drove to work for a random social call, stopping for beverages on the way."

"Well, we walked, we didn't drive."

"Oh gods!" Astoria was squealing now. "Oh my bleeding, beautiful gods. You have no idea. None at all. Whether or not either of you admit it, that was definitely a date, 'Mione. What did you talk about?"

"Oh, you know. Books, Muggle things, our parents, the fact that my magic will eventually consume me if I don't start taking it seriously." She rolled her eyes at that last bit. "He was very into our microwave, and the grill Dad bought; he actually helped him set it up, can you believe that? And, oh my word, this was the best part: he quoted me poetry. Muggle poetry, can you imagine?"

Astoria bit her lip. This was much more serious than she had realized. If Draco was actually talking to Hermione instead of just insulting her... it meant something. Possibly more than either of them recognized. "'Mione, nothing... happened, did it? I mean, between you two?"

"No," the Gryffindor responded quickly.

"Okay." But she wasn't done. "Nothing at all? He didn't flirt with you, didn't give you any sort of signals? Like a boy does to a girl that he likes?"

Hermione's blush gave her away. "Well... I mean, he teased me a bit, like he usually does. And there was a moment, I suppose, that I thought..." She shook her head. "But he didn't kiss me again. I think it may have just been all in my head."

"AGAIN?" Astoria shrieked. "What the bloody hell do you mean 'again,' Granger? You tell me everything. Now."

So Hermione told her some things, just small things. Nothing that involved a scar on her stomach, nothing that revealed the moment earlier that day in her parents' kitchen, when things had felt suddenly clear and complicated at the same time. When she was done listing off Malfoy's taunts and had mentioned the small kiss he had given her, ("when I was really in a bad place," she explained) Astoria stood there with her mouth hanging open. "You'll catch flies, Story."

"I just... I can't believe it." She slid off the bed and landed on the ground. "How was this happening and I had no idea?"

"It's nothing," Hermione protested. "Seriously, don't make a big deal out of it."

"Do you like him?"

"Well, I don't hate him, if that's what you mean," she said defensively.

"If he tried to kiss you again, would you let him?"

"I..." Hermione started and then closed her eyes. She knew her hesitation had given her away.

"Oh!" Astoria squealed and stomped her feet. "I cannot believe this! I knew it! I so knew it. You're Elizabeth and he's Mr. Darcy. And he was all 'I'm so much better,' and you were all 'but you're a pompous twat,' and now you two..." she sighed. "Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked seriously.

"Bloody hell, Astoria, none of that is going to happen. I'm not Elizabeth and he's not Mr. Darcy and it's not like that at all. We just have... I dunno, chemistry, or whatever. It's just tension. It's the not knowing, I'm sure. I mean, I bet you if I just gave him a good snog, I'd get it out of my system once and for all." Actually, that wasn't a bad idea.

"If you say so," Astoria sang.

"I DO say so. Now get out of here, I need to get to sleep."

Astoria headed for the door, then looked over her shoulder at her friend. "I bet you're sleepy. Draco must have worn you out," she teased, and barely escaped the flung pillow carefully aimed at her head.

Hermione laid back on her bed, looking for answers on the ceiling. Maybe she did need to get it out of her system. Get HIM out of her system. Just a snog to clear the air. To clear her head, more like. Well, if it got down to that, then she'd deal with it, she decided. But for right now, all she wanted to do was dream of simple things. Yet when she closed her eyes all she saw was blonde hair, gray eyes, and that damn teasing grin.