Good morning everyone! So turns out I won't be able to post an update next week, my boyfriend called dibs on the laptop (rude) and I won't have access to my drafts. To make it up to you, I'll be posting two chapters as soon as I get back! Hope everyone has a Merry Christmas!

-..-

The next morning, Hermione had to push against the wave of emotions and disjointed thoughts that rushed forward at the sight of Draco Malfoy walking into her shop. The last thing she needed was for him to be aware of the turmoil her conscience was currently suffering through.

"Good morning, Draco." She winced internally at the hitch in her voice when she said his name.

Either he didn't notice, or he knew better than to point it out. "Good morning," he said with a barely-there smile.

She noticed he didn't say her name, but she couldn't say she was surprised. A small part of her was disappointed, but she pushed that even further back in her mind.

"Let me finish a few things here, and I'll meet you in my office."

Draco nodded and made his way to the back of the shop. While waiting for Hermione to join him, he perused her shelves admiring her pictures and books. He raised an eyebrow at the vast collection of Magical Law and Patenting books before his gaze zeroed in on the collection of pictures on her desk. He had missed those during his first visit.

There were five in total, each frame a different size but organized in a way that they framed the edges of the desk. It was such a Hermione thing, he thought, to carefully arrange photos on a desk.

Draco noted the two pictures of landscapes first. One was of a snowy mountain top with small figures in the background, so small they could be mistaken for dots of ink. The other was of a beach with a lone figure standing in the water, body encased in shadows thrown from the setting sun. Muggle pictures, he realized based on the lack of movement within the wooden frames. The other three, however, were distinctly magical. One was of the most hideous cat Draco had ever seen. It's orange, scrunched up face looked as if it had been hit one too many times with a door. The cat sat poised for the picture, and the only sign of movement was the swishing of its tail. The next picture was the picture of the Golden Trio that Draco had been expecting. Arms slung over each other's shoulder, the three laughed at a joke told just before the picture had been taken.

There was a small tug in Draco's chest at the unadulterated joy written across their features. Blinking quickly he moved his gaze to the final picture and frowned. Two people he didn't recognize walked hand-in-hand down a street, smiling at each other and seemingly oblivious of the camera.

"My parents."

Draco jumped back a step, wide-eyed and startled by Hermione's sudden voice from the doorway.

"It was our first visit to the Wizarding World," she said as she made her way over to the desk. She smiled softly in the direction of the picture and said, "Feels like forever ago."

Draco realized she was smiling the same smile he had seen when he had asked her about the muggle world: wistful and sad. Not feeling comfortable with pressing her further, Draco simply nodded and walked over to the couch he had sat on during his previous visit. He tossed his cloak over the back of the sofa and sank comfortably into the cushion with a quiet sigh.

Hermione sat on the couch opposite of him and asked, "How is your arm healing?"

He hesitated briefly, years of impulse telling him to hide his arm from her. Slowly rolling up his shirt sleeve, he held his arm out for her to examine. "I think it's healing well. There's no soreness or lingering pain."

She gently took his wrist and turned his arm this way and that, carefully examining the ink and skin underneath. "It looks like the tattoo covered the mark well. No extra charm work necessary, thank Merlin, which means we can jump straight into the next design." Lifting her sketchbook, Hermione tapped her lip with the end of her quill. "Any ideas?"

Draco cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, trying to keep his gaze from fixing on the tapping motion of the pencil. "I was hoping we could do something similar to the process you used last time?"

Hermione looked shocked at his suggestion and asked, "You want me to design your second tattoo?"

Unsure of himself, Draco looked down at his first tattoo and traced the snitch's wings with the tip of his finger. "Is that not customary? I assumed that was how you normally designed them."

"Not quite," Hermione said. "It's a huge compliment that you want me to design your tattoo again. Most people come in with a fairly set idea of what they want, and at most I get to tweak them."

"You did an impressive job last time, and your reputation for other original designs is glowing."

Hermione blushed faintly at the compliment and asked, "Which one did you see?"

"Theo showed me his the night he got it." He frowned slightly and said, "I suppose I should have asked Luna to see hers. She had an appointment with you yesterday, didn't she?"

"She did, we were working on a ring of runes around her left wrist."

"Runes? Are they decorative or do they actually —"

"They do," Hermione exclaimed, accidentally cutting him off in her excitement. "They actually work. She was the one to help me figure them out, but after a lot of research and testing we finally managed to figure out a way to incorporate their magical properties onto skin." Hermione straightened her shoulders in a way that was all too familiar. "The most difficult part was keeping the magic contained in the skin for an extended period of time and not letting it bleed throughout the skin cells as that would imbalance and disrupt the runes."

He wasn't sure what skin cells were, but he didn't want to seem foolish for asking. Instead he asked, "Are there any new projects you're working on that are similar?"

"Well, Luna has this idea," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes that showed just how much faith she had in said idea. "She wants to ink the moon phases down her spine and have them glow with the corresponding moon phase currently in the sky, but I honestly don't know how we could get the ink to recognize it."

Draco turned the idea over in his head for a few moments before tentatively suggesting, "Could you use magic similar to the Great Hall's ceiling that, rather than telling the time, mirrors what is currently in the sky?"

Hermione's eyes widened comically as the wheels in her head began spinning madly with the idea. Draco startled in his seat when she leapt up from the couch and dashed to her desk.

"That's brilliant, Draco!" She riffled through her drawers for spare parchment and jotted down the idea before she forgot it. "I can't believe I missed something so obvious. Absolutely brilliant." She turned a brilliantly white smile in his direction that caused his stomach to do somersaults. She bounced back into her seat with a spring in her step and an enthusiasm that was contagious.

Settling back into her seat with her sketchbook in her lap, Hermione straightened her posture and was instantly all business, although the twinkle in her eye still lingered. "Now then, if we are going to use the same method as last time, I will need to ask you a few more personal questions if that's alright with you."

Draco nodded and tried to ignore that quiet but panicked voice in the back of his mind.

"What is your biggest fear?"

He swallowed thickly at the question as images of the War, Voldemort, and Death Eaters flashed through his mind.

Hermione noticed his eyes begin to glaze over and his fists clench at his side, so she quickly rephrased her question. "Better yet," she amended, "tell me a fear you had as a child that is still present today."

Relaxing minutely Draco thought back over his childhood. "It's somewhat of a cliché," he said hesitantly, "but I was always afraid of being alone. Not physically, but in life. I held my friends very close and rarely spent any time apart from them. I feared losing them or my mother; I feared walking through life alone and still do."

She nodded in understanding and began sketching as he talked. The sound of her pencil scratching against parchment filled the room as she asked, "And your friends, can you tell me a little about them?"

Draco smiled as he continued his trek through his memories. "There were four of us that ran together as kids. Theo, Blaise, Pansy, and myself. It was just the three of us boys until Pansy came along, but she held her own." He chuckled at memories of Pansy keeping the three of them in line. "We were little hellions growing up. Theo was the brains, Blaise the wild ambition, Pansy the smooth talker, and I was the ringleader. I couldn't have asked for a better family." Shaking his head fondly, Draco looked up and met Hermione's warm gaze.

She was smiling as well, warmth exuding from her as she drank in the happy picture he painted. For the first time in a long time, she felt as though she had finally seen Draco with a few less walls up. He was a bit more human, and she was honored to see it. Sketching a few more details, she took a deep breath before turning the sketchbook around.

This design was simpler than the previous one. Building on his first tattoo, the sketch she made would run from his elbow to his shoulder, filling the skin with twining plants. There were large oak leaves shadowing small pink flowers and other plants he didn't recognize. They flowed seamlessly into the flowers on his forearm and build one complete tattoo.

Before he could say anything, Hermione began her explanation. "I've incorporated three plants into the design. The oak leaves, which represent strength, are obvious and take up the majority of the skin. The smaller bundles are mignonette which represent worth, and are mixed with the little pink flowers. Those are laurel which in ancient Greece and Rome were symbols of ambition and victory." She chewed on her lip for a second before saying, "I know pink flowers aren't very manly, but I was trying to incorporate some of the characteristics of your friends. Plus," she added with a soft chuckle, "what's a Slytherin without the flower of ambition?"

Draco chuckled along with her. "That makes perfect sense to me. I love it."

Hermione clapped her hands together and grinned. "Brilliant! Then let's get started."

In a rare moment of impulsive bravery, Draco stopped her. "Actually, I was hoping this time I could see one of your tattoos before I get mine instead of after."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but a slow smile worked its way onto her lips. "Is that so?"

Whatever response he had was lost as she began lifting the hem of her shirt. She raised it to just above her ribs and glanced at the ink on her side. In small black script were names etched across her ribs. As Draco watched the ink flowed and changed, a new name on her side every few seconds. He recognized a few of them as he saw Fred change into Albus which then changed into Sirius. He tried to regain his breathing - when had he stopped breathing - as Hermione dropped her shirt back down.

"They're the names of everyone I lost in the War. I've spelled the ink to change so everyone's names could fit. There were too many for me to…" Her voice trailed off and grew tight as tears gathered in her eyes.

Not sure how to comfort her, Draco gently rested his hand on her knee. She placed her hand on top of his and gave him a watery smile. They sat that way for several moments before Hermione cleared her throat, swiped at her eyes, and stood.

"Let's get started on your new tattoo. I'm eager to stab you with my wand again," she said with a wink.

Draco was about to try and say something comforting but was interrupted by the sound of the front door of the shop distantly opening and slamming shut. Hermione frowned softly in confusion, but the look quickly turned into shock when the office door opened and Ron Weasley came barging in.

He didn't give Hermione so much as a second to breath before the words came tumbling from his mouth in a loud rush. "I hope you don't mind that I let myself in, Mione. Ginny told me where your store was and that you'd probably be in the office which was in the back. I wanted to come by sooner but didn't realize you were in town until a little while ago, what with being caught up with playing for the Chudley Cannons and all. You understand. And I was waiting for you to reach out first anyway and ask how to season was going, but when you didn't I —"

Ron paused in his monologue when he finally looked past Hermione and found Draco sitting across from her. His face began to turn red in a way that was far too familiar. His face twisted into an ugly grimace as he demanded, "What in the bloody hell is he doing here?"

Hermione had sat patiently during Ron's verbal diarrhea, her posture straight and her hands folded carefully in her lap to hid her fidgeting fingers. "Ron," she said calmly. "I appreciate you coming by, but I would have appreciated it more if you had owled me first. I do run a business here, after all, and Draco had an appointment scheduled."

"Oh so it's Draco now," Ron interrupted her indignantly.

Draco, realizing that his presence was only going to make matters worse, rose to excuse himself. "I think it would be best if I left, Hermione." He made a point to use her first name and was rewarded with a new shade of red on Weasley's ears. "We can meet later today."

Hermione nodded at him with an apologetic yet grateful smile.

Ron spluttered angrily but allowed Draco to pass him easily as he left the office.

Draco made it halfway down the hall before he heard muffled shouting coming from the office. He stood still and silently debated the moral ramifications of listening in before he quietly made his way back towards the office. Knowing the Weasley temper as well as he did, he leaned against the wall next to the office door and waited to see if Weasley took it too far.

"We all lost people, Hermione. That doesn't mean you can abandon everyone for some vacation in the muggle world." Ron's voice rang clearly through the door and made it virtually impossible for Draco not to eavesdrop.

"I know everyone lost people, Ron, but I lost my entire family." Hermione's voice was clear but broke slightly at the end of her sentence. "Everywhere I looked there was death and heartbreak, and I felt so empty." Draco frowned at how broken and vulnerable Hermione sounded. "I needed to escape it all. Everyone heals in different ways, and I couldn't do that here surrounded by all of that."

"Do you have any idea how selfish that sounds," Ron yelled back. "You left us when we needed you most. When I needed you most!"

"I'm sorry, Ron, I really am. I know you needed me, that Harry needed me, but I can't help my friends when the person you need is no longer there. I was a hollow version of myself. There was no way I could help anyone in the shape I was in, and it took me years to put myself back together. Do you understand that? Years. Sometimes you have to be selfish, Ronald, it's the only way I could save myself."

"But I love you, Hermione. I could have saved you just like before."

Draco clenched his fists at his sides and had to focus carefully on his breathing to keep himself from going in the room.

"I thought we were going to be together after the Battle at Hogwarts, but I turned around one day and you were just gone."

"Ron, we've talked about this," Hermione said wearily. "I love you and Harry more than most, but you're both family. I'm sorry, but you and I don't have that kind of future together."

"You're just confused, Mione." Ron tried to reason with her, but Draco thought he sounded far too condescending. "If you'll just leave this silly art stuff and come back to the Burrow with me, everything can go back to the way it was."

Draco's eyes widened slightly. Weasley was a damn fool if he thought Hermione would take any of that well.

"This isn't just silly art stuff, Ronald. This is my life. I find pride in what I do here, and if you can't understand that —"

"I don't understand it!"

Ron's angry outburst caused Draco to swiftly stand from his position against the wall and grab hold of the door handle. He froze, fingers wrapped tightly around the metal, and waited with baited breath.

"I don't understand any of it," Ron bellowed. "You took a vacation without telling anyone, and then you suddenly come back and expect everything to be fine? You come back to cover people in these stupid drawings and befriend Slytherins of all people?"

"Damn it, Ronald. Can't you move past those ridiculous prejudices already? Be an adult. How can you still hold such a grudge after everything we went through?"

"Because they're horrible people, Hermione. I mean, Malfoy? He's the worst of them all, and you had him sitting in your office like an old chum!"

Deciding he had heard enough and that Hermione had the situation under control, Draco slowly began to make his way back to the front entrance of the shop. Most of the yelling had died down, and he could barely hear their conversation. He had almost made it through the door when he heard a loud crash followed by Hermione's muffled shouting. He rushed back to the office, took a steadying breath, and carefully opened the door.

Hermione was standing behind her desk with Weasley across the room at the fireplace. There was a broken lamp in pieces by the door which alerted Draco to what the crash had been. The pair looked at Draco as he entered the room, Hermione in honest curiosity and Weasley in abject fury.

Draco raised an unconcerned eyebrow at Weasley and said, "I forgot my cloak." As he approached the couch where he had left his cloak, he caught sight of Hermione wiping quickly at her cheeks. Realizing she was wiping away tears, Draco's stomach twisted as a surprisingly large bubble of anger burst in his chest. He willed himself to be calm when he asked, "Is everything alright in here?"

"We're fine," Ron spat. "Just get your cloak and leave, ferret."

"I was asking her," Draco said coldly, and his eyes never left Hermione.

Angry at being snubbed, Ron sneered at him. "Get out, Malfoy, no one wants you here."

"That's hardly the case," Draco drawled as he finally fixed his steely gaze on Weasley. "In fact, I was invited here. Can you say the same for yourself?"

Ron snarled and stormed up to Draco until they were nose to nose. "You're a fool if you think Hermione wants a death eater spawn like you here. Last I checked, no one wanted your family anywhere near England." Ron's mouth twisted into a nasty smile. "In fact, last I heard, your deadbeat father was shipped off to Azkaban and your bitch mother left you behind to flee for Paris. So really, you're the last one we have to get rid of. Packed your bags yet?"

Draco kept his cool, and he really could have remained calm long enough to convince Weasley to leave until his mother was mentioned. At that point, his calm demeanor flew out the window consequences be damned. "It's true, my mother did leave," he hissed. "But at least I'm not a drunken layabout who can't amount to anything because you're too busy playing for a shoddy team and sulking over a girl you'll never get. Face it, Weasley, how could a girl like her ever love a lazy nobody like you?"

He knew he had gone a step too far.

Ron's eyes flashed with pure hatred and, before Draco could blink, Ron cocked back his arm and punched Draco square in the face.

Draco heard Hermione's shriek of outrage before he stumbled back into her desk. He stood up to retaliate, the office swimming sickeningly around him, but was stopped when Hermione appeared at his side.

She grabbed hold of his face and forced his eyes to focus on her. "Oh Merlin, Draco, are you alright?" She used his chin to turn his face this way and that, her brown eyes darting all over his face looking for damage.

Ron starting yelling about her helping Draco which caused Hermione to level him with her chilling, angry gaze.

"Get out, Ronald."

He started to argue, but her expression showed she wouldn't budge on the issue, so he loudly huffed and stormed out.

Hermione looked back at Draco and flinched when she saw the bruise already forming on his right cheek. "Sit down on the couch," she said softly. "I'll get something for your cheek."

Draco followed her order gladly and sank into the couch. His eyes watched as she bustled around the room, and his cheek gave a painful throb every time he blinked. Knowing his comments to Weasley would undoubtedly come back to bite him, he quickly apologized, "I'm sorry for what I said about Weasley. I went too far."

Hermione sat down beside him with a soft cloth and tin of bruise relieving paste. "It was a cruel thing to say," she said with a nod of agreement. She dabbed the cloth gently into the paste. "But Ron was in the wrong as well, and he definitely shouldn't have hit you."

Draco reached for the cloth, but she smacked his hand away.

She grabbed his chin again and pulled his face closer to her. Draco hissed as the cold cloth touched his cheekbone which caused Hermione to tsk quietly and press it more firmly against his face. "You just had to play the hero, didn't you?"

Draco met her gaze and was relieved to find a small smile on her lips. "I'm sorry if I upset you by intervening," he said with another wince. "I know you can handle yourself; you've proved that several times over."

"Oh I'm not upset at you for that," she assured him. "I'm just frustrated with Ronald. He never understood why I left, and he's been angry with me ever since. I appreciated you coming to my rescue, even if I didn't need it." She quirked a smirk at him and said, "The cloak was a nice touch."

Despite the pain in his cheek, Draco grinned at his own cleverness. "You caught that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "It's not like it was very subtle." She blinked her eyes wide in mock surprise and reenacted dramatically, "Let me just fetch my cloak. What's this, a damsel in distress? I must save her!" Hermione giggled to herself at her own joke which caused Draco to smile.

He was pleased to notice the throbbing in his cheek had lessened considerably since she had first added the paste.

An odd sort of tension settled over the room. Hermione's gaze was fixed on his, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Those warm, brown eyes were so full of emotion that he could spend all day trying to discover their depths.

He thought back to the other night, to the party that had been one of the first enjoyable nights in a long time. To that cold night, and that sweet kiss, even if it was only on his cheek.

He reached up and gently covered her hand in his. "Have dinner with me," he said softly.

She blinked. "Dinner?" Her voice was just as hushed as his, as though not wanting to break the moment they found themselves in.

"Yes, dinner. Tomorrow night." He brushed his thumb over her fingers and was pleased to find a soft blush begin to dust her cheeks.

Hermione shyly tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. She smiled, nodded, and said, "Okay, tomorrow night." She reluctantly pulled her hand away from his and busied herself with cleaning up the healing supplies. Her long hair fell about her face effectively hiding her wide smile and darkening blush.

Draco snagged his cloak off the back of the catch and tucked his hands into his pockets.

"Are you leaving?" Hermione tried not to sound disappointed, but he could still hear it in her voice.

"I think we've both had enough excitement for one day." He draped his cloak across his shoulders and fastened it around his throat. "We can reschedule my appointment for another day when we're both a little less stressed."

Hermione's smile fell slightly. "I'm sorry about Ron."

He shook his head and said, "Don't apologize. He just gave me an excuse to see you again."

"Tomorrow night," she said with a pleased smile.

"Tomorrow night," he agreed. "Goodnight, Hermione."

She watched him leave. A bubble of exhilaration began to climb up inside her and burst in her chest with a wave of warmth. A large grin spread over her cheeks and surprised laughter followed. He had called her Hermione.