Notes: Sorry that this took so long, and is so short, but Draco and Hermione are just not cooperating. Maybe they'll be a little nicer to me for the next parts. Until then, enjoy this bit and share your thoughts, either by reviewing or sending me a note at fate@unseelie.zzn.com

Thanks!

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Aftershock: Part 3

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"So, what do you guys have to talk about?" Hermione was standing in the doorway to Draco's office the next morning, a small smile on her face. Draco shook his head and continued putting his desk in order for the day. He and Harry had talked until the wee hours of the morning, mostly about life in their respective worlds, and how much they wished for the uncomplicated-but-terrifying life they had lead before. It had been so much simpler hiding from Voldemort than it was putting their lives back together in a peaceful world. It was an irony that both appreciated, just as their status during the war had been a bonding force.

"You know, guy stuff." Draco smiled, trying to guess what the phrase meant to her. Quiddich probably. It was strange, they had been bitter enemies during school, and in some ways they were closer than brothers now. In others, they were still strangers. Draco's expression darkened. There were still some things that he wasn't willing to share, that Famous Harry Potter just wouldn't understand.

Hermione was next to him before he saw her move, he must have spaced out. Her hand was on his shoulder, and he could smell the subtle flower perfume and old paper smell of her. It reminded him of the library at Hogwarts in the spring, and that made him smile.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yes. Just memories. I was thinking that there are some things about Famous Harry Potter that I wouldn't understand either." He smiled, a little sadly up at her, and she gave him a puzzled look in return. Then she stepped back from him, and took a seat in the chair on the other side of his desk. With a flick of her wand she closed the door, and made herself comfortable. Draco had a sinking feeling in his stomach, just knowing that this was going to be a serious conversation.

"So... how did you two end up burying the hatchet?"

In Voldemort's back, actually. Draco thought to himself, and the mental image was pleasing. The actual event had been so much more difficult, bloody and painful than that.

"We plotted the assassination of the Death Eaters together... after what happened at my initiation..." Draco trailed off, knowing that Hermione would understand. He had flown all the way to Hogsmead that night, with Potter at his side fending off the Death Eaters. Harry had also been there when Draco told Dumbledor what had happened, and the rage in those green eyes had been real, and for Draco. It had been a balm to his soul, Draco thought, that an enemy had felt empathy with his situation. And after all the teasing that he'd put Potter through...

"Potter forgave me, I tried to make it up to him anyway, and together we got our vengence. Nothing like a spot of violence to induce male bonding." Draco drawled, looking into Hermione's eyes. They were wide and sympathetic, and then they sparked just before she chuckled at his quip. She had a warm chuckle, funny how he'd never appreciated that while he was evesdropping during school. It was so much more fun spying when your targets were pleasant to listen to.

"Well, if Harry can do it, so can I. Though violence may not be a good idea at this point." She was still smiling at him, and Draco smiled back hesitantly. Hermione, forgiving him? He supposed that she wouldn't have bothered with him if she hadn't, but...

"It's unexpected." Draco paused, trying to convey his gratitude at such an event. "Thank you," he ended, lame but sincere.

"You're welcome Draco. I'll see you after work?" She paused just before opening the door.

"Yes. I believe that I owe you an obsene amount of ice cream after this week."

"Yes you do... though I think ice cream will cover the years at Hogwarts too." He must have paled because she laughed, an open and happy sound. "Just for future reference." she called, walking into the busy hallway and shutting the door behind her.

Draco leaned back in his chair and smiled at the empty room. Him, joking with Hermione Granger... it had been a most interesting couple of days. He hoped that it was the kind of interesting that lasted.

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Draco woke with a languid smile on his face, and noticed that it was still early. He could still smell the flowers and old paper smell of her, and reached across the bed to run his fingers through her unruly hair.

His bed was empty except for himself. He staired up at the ceiling, trying to deny what his fingers had told him. He wasn't alone after a very satisfying dream about Hermione, she just happened to be ... elsewhere.

Her own bed, you pathetic fool.

Draco's mind was ever helpful, and he closed his eyes, swallowing around the sudden, painful lump in his throat. After all, it was Hermione Granger, why would she even be in his subconscious bed, let alone the real thing. He flung an arm over his eyes and tried to block out his own thoughts, even as the dream-memories faded.

For a few moments he had known what it was like to hold a loved-one close, and been able to inhale the sweet and musty scent of the only woman to smile at him in months. That wasn't it though. He had been dreaming about her at school too, more often about publicly humilitaing her to be sure, but occasionally something a little more hormone driven.

This hadn't been one of those either, but closer. He had dreamt that they were in love, making love and sleeping safely in each others arms. The ache in his chest was nearly enough to make him cry, so he got up for some cocoa. He left the empty bed behind him, trying not to look at it.

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To Be Continued

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me, they belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm just speculating the "Happily Ever After", and not making any money off of it.