A/N: Helloooo loves! After struggling for such a time over further chapter ideas, I am now on a roll! Many thanks to both Chalice13 and buddybuddy96 for leaving some amazing ideas in the comments - you'll notice a couple of them featured in this one-shot.

Thanks for reading - tell me what you think! xoxoxo

I do not own Harry Potter or any of the many wonderful characters therein...

It was an anniversary, but not one that was particularly enjoyable for her to celebrate. She knew the day was coming - there was no need to mark it on the calendar - the date was permanently etched in her subconscious. Her feelings about it were too much to process, so she did what she normally did when emotions threatened to burst her at the seams: she ignored them. She threw herself into her work. She took on extra cases, working long hours - anything to keep her blissfully busy and distracted.

But try as she might, she could still feel it coming - like a shadow looming in the corner that threatened to envelope her at any moment.

When the day finally came, she opted to stay home from work. This was not something she really wanted to do - she wanted to continue her present course of mind-numbing work. But given her frayed nerves of late and the fact that she had been snapping angrily at literally everyone (she nearly brought the witch at the beverage cart to tears yesterday morning), it seemed like the safest plan. Not to mention the fact that her boss was also aware of what this day meant for her and all but demanded that she not come in.

..

When Draco appeared at her door at ten, tea and scones in hand, he was surprised to find her office locked and apparently empty. Hmm...that's strange.

It was at that moment that the receptionist reappeared at her desk with her own midmorning caffeine. "Is Miss Granger in a meeting?"

"No, dear. Miss Granger isn't in today." The elderly lady replied as she sipped her coffee. "She's taking a personal day."

Leaving her the bagged treats (she was a lovely woman, after all), he thanked her and headed back to his office. He had never known Granger to take a personal day in the two years he'd been working with her. He had noticed her increasing snappiness over the last week and thought that perhaps her workload was starting to get to her, which was why he thought he'd surprise her with tea and scones - he also wanted to tell her about a particularly fascinating case he and Potter were working on that was certain to spark her interest (she loved that sort of thing).

But she wasn't there. He couldn't help but feel a little bit lost. Her presence was something he was starting to take for granted - and now that he thought about it, she was literally the only person in this place that he actually enjoyed taking a break with.

Returning to his office - still carrying two teas - he found Potter at his desk with an uncharacteristically somber redhead seated across from him.

"Hey, Red. Would you like some tea? I've got an extra. Apparently Granger isn't in today."

Ginny looked up at him and now he could see the tears in her eyes as she forced herself to smile and accepted the cup from him.

"Am I…interrupting something?" Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, he started backing toward the door.

The seated couple shared a knowing glance before Harry spoke. "Not at all, Malfoy. There's actually something I think you should know."

Draco couldn't hide the worry from creasing his forehead as he took a seat at his desk. An awkward silence hung heavy in the room - a silence that made his insides vibrate. "Can someone please tell me what is going on?"

Harry exchanged another look with his wife before he spoke. "What has Hermione shared with you about her parents?"

Racking his brain, Draco could only come up with one instance when the subject of her parents had come up, and that was only a brief mention of something her father had said. Remembering the 'was' that she had spoken in reference to him and the sadness in her eyes, he had assumed it was a topic that would not bring her any joy, so he never asked.

"Nothing."

Harry ploughed on, visibly uncomfortable with the topic but finding it necessary to fill him in. "A year ago today, her parents were killed in a car crash." Draco's eyes went wide and he sat in silence as Harry told the story of Hermione erasing their memories before the war and sending them to Australia.

Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, he stared at his hands clenched in front of him, not knowing what to say.

Ginny spoke. "When the war was over, she found them and tried to restore their memories," she paused, sniffing back her own tears, "but she wasn't able to reverse it."

Overcome with emotion, Ginny looked up at Harry and he continued. "She kept tabs on them, but then the crash…" he paused, "they died not knowing they had a daughter."

So many feelings were swirling inside him: overwhelming sadness for her, anger at those muggle death traps (he had never thought automobiles were a good idea), crippling guilt that she had to send them away because of the actions of the noseless psychopath who once resided in his childhood home - a psychopath that he himself had been helping to further his atrocities on muggles - muggles like Granger and her parents.

Running his fingers through his hair, and taking in a deep breath he could only think of one thing: her.

"Where is she?" he spoke softly.

"Not sure, but probably at home."

"Probably? You don't know where she is?" He hadn't intended to, but his tone came as an angry growl.

"Malfoy, she swore to us that she wanted to be alone today." Harry could sense where this was going. "She may go visit her parents' old house, but I don't know for sure."

"She shouldn't be alone." He turned to Ginny. "You should go find her."

Ginny shook her head. "Draco, I can't, she made me promise."

Standing roughly and grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, he spoke briskly, trying to remain calm. He knew, first hand, the bad decisions that can creep in under the guise of overpowering grief. "Well, I didn't promise. I'm going over there."

If Harry had any misgivings about his actions, he didn't show it. Rising to grab his shoulder, Harry put a slip of paper in his hand as he spoke. "If she's not at her flat, this is the address of her folks."

Draco accepted it with a nod and stormed out the door.

…. .

As the green flames faded in her sitting room, he looked around for any sign of his curly-haired friend. Her flat was eerily quiet but for the television that was left on - normally, Draco would be distracted by the muggle device, but he was on a mission to find Granger.

Not finding her in the sitting room, the kitchen, or the bathroom, he ventured further down the hall to a closed door which could only be her bedroom. He'd been to her flat a handful of times, but normally with others and never had he set foot in her bedroom, but he just had to lay eyes on her and make certain she was alright.

Swinging the door open noiselessly and closing his eyes, he silently prayed she was both safe and fully clothed - he couldn't imagine what kind of wrath she would bestow on him if she caught him ogling.

The room was dark, despite it being late morning, and he could just make out her sleeping form, fluffy comforter tucked all the way to her chin. Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, he stepped close enough to see her face. She appeared calm, her brow relaxed, and he noted that she was in fact breathing. The vial of dreamless sleep on her bedside table (which was a larger, but still appropriate dose) explained why it was now near 11am and she was still sound asleep.

Backing slowly from the room and pulling the door to again, he headed back down the hall. He would call Harry to let him know where Granger was and that she was safe.

After a brief conversation with Potter on the mobile phone (those muggle contraptions were something he was grateful for) and coming to the mutual consensus that Potter would cover for him for the rest of the workday so he could stay until she was awake, Draco looked around to see what could be done. When he had first peeked into the kitchen earlier, he hadn't noticed what an absolute train wreck it was. The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes and there were empty takeaway boxes and a half-eaten carton of ice cream in the garbage. She had also apparently decided to drink some sort of muggle alcohol before bed, as evidenced by the near-empty bottle and glass tumbler on the counter.

Taking a deep breath and rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, he turned on the hot water and started in on the dishes. If anyone had told him five or so years ago that he would be touching let alone washing someone else's dishes he would have hexed them on the spot - the thought made him chuckle. But there was something somewhat therapeutic about cleaning things the muggle way - he actually found himself doing it at his own flat on occasion - especially if he was stressed or just had a lot on his mind. He was apparently completely lost in thought because he didn't hear Hermione standing in the doorway watching him until she spoke up.

"You're here." Her voice was small and thick with sleep.

He paused, plate and towel in hand, looking at her in silence for a moment before finishing with the dish and placing it in the rack in the sink. "I am."

"You're washing my dishes?" It was both a statement and a question.

"Yes." He stared at her now - he could see her tired eyes, puffy from crying, and he almost couldn't resist the urge to wrap her in his arms and comfort her. She moved toward him, almost cautiously, and looked him in the eyes.

"Why?"

He leaned back against the counter, bracing his hands on the edge to steady his nerves and trained his eyes down at the floor just past the toes of his loafers. "Granger, I... I know I can't bring them back, and I probably can't help you feel better...but I can wash your dishes."

Her face relaxed into a small, sad smile and a few tears fell from her lashes as his eyes met hers again. "Thank you." Her voice was barely a whisper and he felt more than saw her step into his space and wrap her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. He let his arms wrap easily around her and stuffed down the warmth he felt in his chest to have her so close. It could have been minutes or hours that they stood there like that in the quiet kitchen - Draco couldn't be sure - but at some point, she leaned back to stand on her own feet again, wiping her face with both hands.

"I told everyone I would want to be alone today... but I'm really glad you're here." She smiled in spite of herself. "It turns out I don't make great decisions when I'm sad and alone."

"I'm glad I broke in then." He chuckled. "You should get stronger wards."

She shook her head and waved him off. "I added you to my wards ages ago."

He swallowed hard and tried very hard not to make that gesture a big deal (except to him it totally was a big deal). To say that you trust someone is one thing, but to allow them access to your home is something else entirely.

"Do you have to get back?" She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned a hip on the counter beside him.

He shook his head. "Not today. Potter said it's alright as long as I'm keeping an eye on you."

She looked down, twisting the hem of her oversized t-shirt between her fingers as she spoke. "I need a shower."

"I wasn't going to say anything." He smirked when she rolled her eyes at him and swatted his chest.

"Prat!" She spat with a playful smile.

"There's my girl." He held his breath for a beat, silently kicking himself for not keeping that little comment inside...but her resulting blush was delicious.

"I was going to say..." she continued with an emphatic tone, "that I need to take a shower and if you would be so kind as to wait for me, perhaps we could go out and grab some lunch."

He smiled warmly back at her. "That sounds wonderful." More wonderful than he could admit to himself and certainly not out loud to her this time.

"Great." She was nearly to the hall before she turned to face him. "But no more cleaning!"

Draco raised his hands in surrender with a laugh. "No more cleaning. I promise."

...

While Hermione was showering and getting herself ready, Draco drifted into the sitting room to watch the television. The device was fascinating to him, no matter what was playing on it. Currently there was a weather report followed by a piece done by the local news about an area dog shelter. The moving pictures were mesmerizing and he found himself getting far too sucked in so he shut off the telly and walked around the room.

When he had been in her home on previous occasions, he never really took the time to look around. The walls of the sitting room were covered in tall oak bookshelves and were - naturally - full of books. He walked slowly from shelf to shelf perusing titles - there were many that he recognized, but far more that he did not. He had just picked up a thick volume by someone named Tolstoy when Hermione cleared her throat from a few steps away.

"I'm ready if you are."

Her voice startled him but he smiled when he saw her. Dressed in a grey jumper and jeans, she was dressed much more relaxed than the office attire he was accustomed to seeing her in. Despite looking fresh and awake, she still carried an air of sadness in her eyes that couldn't be ignored.

"Granger, if you'd rather stay home, I can just run out and get you something…"

"No." She cut him off and forced a smile. "Out is better. I need to get out."

"Alright then, out you shall have, Granger. I've got an idea... Can I surprise you?"

She looked at him with narrowed eyes and a wary smile before agreeing.

"Brilliant. Where is your coat?" Shaking her head at him, she attempted to wave him off. "I'm sure I'll be fine in this."

Glancing upwards, apparently toward the heavens for help, Draco refused to relent. "Nonsense, woman! We are going out in the November air of London - I insist you wear a proper coat."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh as she walked to her closet in the front hall. "Fine, fine, fine…" Fetching her woolen peacoat and putting it on, she held her arms out to her sides and gave a spin in the doorway when she returned. "Is this adequate, sir?" She snapped with mock indignation.

His smile was warm as he glanced up at her, slipping his arms into his overcoat.

"Excellent, darling."

Clearing his throat and attempting to not appear like the lovesick puppy he was, he stepped toward her offering his elbow. "Ready?"

Her hands slipped around his arm with ease and she gave him a little smile. "Ready."

Turning on the spot, the pair apparated to an alley in London on a quest for food. They walked, still arm in arm, out in the bright fall sunshine and stopped in a little diner for burgers and chips.

As they tucked in to their lunch, she bit back a laugh as they sat across from each other in vinyl booths - they'd been friends for quite a while, but sharing chips in a restaurant with Draco Malfoy, surrounded by muggles was a bit too much.

Noticing her smile, he raised a pale brow as he swallowed a bit of burger and wiped his fingers clean on his napkin. "Something you'd care to share with the class, Granger?"

Her cheeks flushed when she realized she'd been caught. "This is just…" Her heart was full and she couldn't seem to find the words. "I thought today was going to be a really bad day."

"And it's not?" He smiled.

She shook her head emphatically and smiled despite the tears that were forming in her eyes. "It's really not."

When he had come to find her this morning to ensure her safety, he didn't think he would get to be the one to cheer her up on what could have arguably been her worst day in quite a while. The thought gave him a warm feeling he couldn't quite put into words. Struck by sudden inspiration, he slid out of the booth and back up to the counter quickly.

He was back a moment later with a chocolate malt and two spoons. As he handed one to the witch across from him, he spoke matter-of-factly. "Any day can be made even better with chocolate."

Hermione laughed out loud as she took the spoon. "That is definitely true." They enjoyed a few bites in silence before Draco grabbed one of the salty chips and dunked it nonchalantly into the malt before popping it into his mouth and licking the salt from his fingers. She stopped and looked at him, slack-jawed for a moment before he noticed.

"What? Have you never tried that?" He smirked.

Her face was pale in an instant and he noted her eyes looked glassy with tears again as she blinked at him silently.

"Alright there, Granger?"

Her voice was so quiet he could hardly hear her. "My mum used to do that."

Bugger. We were doing fine and I made her cry again.

But just as he started internally kicking himself, she did something unexpected: she smiled. It was a real smile this time, full of twinkling eyes with a mischievous glint. Sighing with relief and deciding to act before second-guessing himself, he picked up two chips from the near-empty plate and dunked them both in the frozen treat before handing one to Hermione.

"To mum." He bumped her chocolatey chip with his own before eating it.

She giggled as she did the same. "To mum," she returned.

Lunch completed, they meandered back out into the autumn sunshine enjoying conversation and a leisurely walk despite the cold temperature. After a brief lull, Hermione glanced out in the distance with a faraway look. "Draco?"

"Hmm?"

Her brow wrinkled with concern as she continued. "I'd planned to visit my parents' old home today."

"Alright. Would you like to go now?"

"No, it's just...today has been so nice. I kind of...don't want to ruin it." She looked at her feet. "Is that wrong of me?"

The irony of Hermione Granger asking former Death Eater Draco Malfoy a question of morality was not lost on him. He paused, rolling the question over in his mind before he decided on an answer. "Grief is a funny thing, Granger. It's a feeling, but just like any other emotion, no two people wear it the same." He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "For me it came in waves - coming and going without rhyme or reason - I would be fine one day and then crippled by it the next. But I think... I think you have to just let it be what it is - no one can tell you what to do with it or how you should feel." He paused their walking and turned to face her. "I'll go with you if you want to go, Granger, but don't let yourself feel guilty if you're not ready."

She seemed to ponder what he said for a moment before brightening and looking up at him. "Thank you, Draco."

They continued the rest of their stroll in comfortable silence to the alley where they apparated back to her flat. Collapsing on the couch with a heavy sigh upon their arrival, Hermione appeared to be completely exhausted and ready for a nap.

"Well, Granger, unless you need anything else, I think I'd better get going. Potter will be wanting a full report, no doubt." He spoke as he turned toward the floo to leave. "It looks like the fresh air did the trick."

Hermione stood to remove her coat and boats before stepping toward him. "The fresh air and the company." She smiled. "Thanks again, Draco. Today was much better than I anticipated." Without a moment's hesitation she reached out and hugged him tightly. With a heavy sigh, Draco allowed himself to hold her close. With his chin resting on her head he could smell her vanilla shampoo without being completely inappropriate. Closing his eyes as they stood there for a few moments, stuffing down the persistent question that kept popping into his brain: what if?...he felt her shift in his arms, turning her head to speak without taking her head from his chest. "Draco? Will you come with me...I mean when I'm ready to go?"

He couldn't help but smile and squeeze her close one more time before releasing her and stepping into the grate. "Anytime, love."

Wowzers, guys! This one really got away from me! I feel like I could have kept right on going - this could have been it's own standalone story. Thanks again for your wonderful ideas and for following along with this rabbit-trail of a story. Just a word of encouragement to any who have or are currently experiencing any kind of grief - don't allow others to dictate how you're supposed to feel or when you "get back to normal". Your grief is your own - allow yourself space and grace to heal in your own time!

Thanks for reading - leave me a review and be sure to follow so you don't miss any! xoxoxoxo