A/N: Here's the ninth chapter. Fun fun, Hermione is back. Looks like everything may be all right for Draco, but if you think so, you obviously haven't read much of my stuff. Here's the most boring it'll be, I promise. Onward and toward--and review! (I'm a review whore… don't hate me for it.)

Chapter 9

At seven in the morning on August 1st, Draco stood in front of the mansion. It was huge. Even compared to Malfoy Manor. Draco stared up at it.

"Ron wasn't kidding about the salary." He looked down, ahead at the door. He knocked. Here was to hoping, if she was asleep, that she was somewhere in the behemoth of a building that she could hear it.

He could hear a muffled sound. Good. Perhaps she was awake. He knocked again. "Hermione?"

There was a pause in the sound. The sound of footsteps followed. Draco stared blankly at the door. Eventually it opened, and Hermione was standing there. It looked like she'd been crying for at least a half hour nonstop.

The look of surprise on her face amused him greatly.

"Draco Malfoy," she said. She must've realized that her face was tear-streaked and her hair a mess, because she quickly attempted to remedy all that and failed. "Why are you...?"

"It's a bit difficult to explain. May I come in?" He examined her face blandly. Eventually she nodded and stepped out of the way.

Draco stepped in. It was a rich house. He'd never thought he'd see a Mudblood--a Muggleborn living in such a rich place. He glanced up at Hermione.

He'd seen her last at their graduation. In four years she'd grown rather taller, and her hair had calmed down at bit. She was a handsome woman, disregarding the depressed puffiness of her face and the lines of overwork under her eyes.

She closed the door, took a deep breath and turned to him. "Now. Follow me." She cleared her throat, and began walking down a long corridor. Draco peered about like your average tourist.

They stopped in a large room with a few chairs and lounging couches. A large box sat at the end of a room. It appeared to have dark glass inlaid inside of it. Draco stared. Hermione noticed and said offhand, "That's just my television, pay it no mind. I haven't watched it in months anyway. Sit!"

Draco obediently sat in a large leather chair. It was like his father's chair. He winced at the thought, but figured in the spirit of rebellion, he'd sit in it anyway. He cleared his throat. "I'll assume you know about what happened two days ago."

Hermione sniffed and nodded. "Was all that true? About you and Harry?" she said indistinctly.

"Yes. Except for the love triangle thing." He smiled vaguely. "Did you suspect?"

She considered. "Maybe unconsciously or something. I never considered it outright." She smiled, sniffed again. "It's just... unfair, I found out yesterday. It was the only way, though."

Draco froze. "Really? I mean, I thought a final stand and all, but suicide?"

"It's the only way to truly hurt someone with a matching wand core," Hermione said. "And since You-Know-Who was connected to Harry through the scar, it was twice the power and killed him. He begged me for research and I gave it to him."

Draco was staring at her, hard. "What?" she said.

"You knew."

She floundered. "I had a good idea, yes."

"You let him."

"It was his choice--"

Draco cut her off. "All right," he said. "All right. Please--" he broke off, looked away from her. "I came here to ask you something."

Hermione clutched what appeared to be a large book in her hands. Draco was hardly surprised. "What?"

"Can I stay here with you?"

The look on Hermione's face was similar to Ron's, except with a little less fury, more disbelief. "To think," she said. "If someone had told me that Draco Malfoy was madly in love with Harry and that he would ask to stay at my house after Harry died.. I would never have believed them."

Draco stared at his once-impeccably polished shoes, now rimmed with mud. "My father threw me out of the manor, and I'm cut off of all financial support. Ron is offering me a job, but.. I need somewhere to stay in the meantime, I can't even afford the Leaky Cauldron for much longer."

"Will you pay rent eventually?" When he looked up at her, Hermione had a faint grin on her face. "Because this house costs quite a bit, even though there's quite a lot of extra space. Don't know what to do with all that space, fill it with books maybe?" Draco felt a faint hint of a smile crawl onto his face. "And it does get very lonely in such a big house all alone."

Even though it was obvious what she was getting at, Draco had to have clarification. "So what you're saying is..."

Hermione had a strange grin twisted in sadness. "Sure. As long as you don't hex me in my sleep, I'm fine. Do you snore?"

A smile twitched onto his face. "Not that I know of."

"Fine, then," she said. She stood and considered. "You can have pretty much any room you want, the place is huge. I recommend the other master bedroom, other than mine. It's really nice, posh." She laughed. "It's very Malfoy."

His smile faltered and broke. She noticed and switched tracks. "I'll show you to it, give you a tour of the place. Come on."

She isn't all that bad. Not really. Not as half as bad as I thought she was. Draco followed her as she swished about in her too-large navy blue Unspeakable robes.

He isn't all that bad. Not really, Hermione thought. Not half as bad as I thought he could be.

Harry would have been proud.