It's amazing what the will to avoid my homework can do for my writing. Behold, I have produced a long chapter! Enjoy!

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Aftershock

Part Six

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Draco began the next day by kicking himself. Hermione was avoiding him, though she was being very polite about it. She still spoke to him in the corridors, but there wasn't another impromptu visit that day, and her eyes kept darting away from him, as if she couldn't look at him for very long. He had scared her off by revealing what a monster he was, had been, and now would forever be in her eyes. He would probably never get close enough to smell her perfume again.

On the second day, Draco walked into his office, read through his tasks for the day and swore. Damning himself, and cursing his poor judgment, Draco stormed back out of the office. He had a reporter to track down, her use of a questionable artifact having "suddenly" caught his attention. In truth, he'd be glad to have someone to get angry at. He needed to vent his emotions, and yelling at Hermione was not and option.

As he strode past her desk, he gave Hermione a short passing glance. She had her hair pulled back today, exposing a slender neck and the concentrated furrow of her brow. He nearly sighed, from admiration and frustration in equal measure. "Have a good day Hermione." It was out of his mouth before he could stop it, so he sped his departure, hoping that she hadn't heard.

He was passed, and nearly to the door when he caught her looking at him from the corner of his eye. Her face was holding an expression that he didn't recognize, and he didn't have the time to analyze it. He was out the door with a shrug, trying to get his mind back to business.

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Hermione didn't know what to make of her own behavior. She hadn't decided to avoid him, but every time she thought about walking back into his office, just to chat again, something inside her cringed. She was so terrified of giving her emotions away. She had never been very good at hiding them, and he had always been a keen observer, picking up the slightest hint of weakness. She was suddenly afraid that, once he had discovered a weakness in her, the old, mean, snotty Draco would come back. And she really couldn't look him in the eye until she stopped think of him as if he had split personalities. It was confusing, and she didn't want to deal with it.

The second day she justified the avoidance by telling herself that she had too much work to do. Socializing with Draco could wait until her reports were finished. The project was important, and her specialty in magically enhanced tomes was invaluable to it success. She really should be concentrating on the reproduction of the 6th century manuscript containing an account of Arabian Wizards as written by a rare Wizarding Crusader that was currently sitting on her desk. Instead she was doodling on her parchment as she tried to figure out what a Wizard would be doing with Muggle Crusaders. Looking at the account, she supposed that it had been curiosity, and the great fun of putting memory charms on them after significant battles. She would have to consult her father's old history text from his school days to figure out just how much damage this one Wizard had ended up doing to Muggle history...

"Have a good day Hermione." His voice was soft, and the surprise of hearing it sent a thrill down her spine. By the time she looked up, he was already down the hall, obviously leaving. She took a moment to appreciate his grace, that oft-emphasized upper-class quality in his movements. All the uncertainty from his revelations came crashing back on her, and she didn't know whether to reply, run after him like some silly heroine, or quickly look back down at her desk before he caught her staring. His exit saved her from the decision, and left her feeling bereft.

Hermione sighed, mentally shook herself, and got back to the idiot who ensured that she'd never know who had actually won any of the battles around Jerusalem.

~*~

Hermione had gotten a room at the Leaky Cauldron for the duration of her project, and she missed home terribly. Her flat wasn't much, but it was in Oxford, and she loved the city. The Muggle University was an amazing place, even when she knew so many things that the students there never would. She enjoyed the atmosphere of learning and party that coexisted in nearly every building. Sitting on her rented bed, listening to the faint sounds from downstairs, she suddenly felt terribly homesick.

She was too far away to get to Oxford and back comfortably, even if she hadn't rented the place to Ginny for the month. She had deemed that staying near the Ministry would be easiest, and hadn't expected to miss her flat quite so much. Though, if she was being honest, she had to acknowledge that she hadn't seen her flat in quite a while, which is why she rented it out at all. She trusted Ginny to take care of it, and then it wouldn't feel so abandoned when she finally did make it back.

Hermione stood up, and paced her room restlessly. Wanderlust had gotten hold of her, and she wasn't sure what to do about it. Usually she could just request another project abroad from her supervisor at Gringotts, but she wasn't finished with her project at the Ministry yet. What an inconvenient time for the bug to bite!

She shuffled through the papers on her desk randomly, trying to think of something to do to get rid of this urge. Her eyes lit on the atrocious handwriting that meant Harry Potter had been in a hurry. The note had been scribbled at the end of one of his (more legible) letters, and at the time she hadn't known what to make of it. Now she understood why Harry had asked her to keep an eye on Draco, to see if he was happy in his new situation. There had also been an address at the bottom of the page.

She had Draco Malfoy's home address.

Without thinking it through, knowing that she'd talk herself out of it easily, Hermione changed into Muggle clothing, and dashed out of the Leaky Cauldron and into Muggle London. Once she was in the taxi, she knew that she couldn't change her mind.

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Draco nearly spilled his cocoa all over himself when someone rang his doorbell. The whole time he had been living here, the blasted thing had never been used. Until that moment, avoiding scalding liquid, he hadn't even been sure that it worked. He set the cocoa down on the table, and walked wearily to the door. What if it was one of his neighbors suddenly trying to be "friendly." He shuddered, having made the mistake of buying a house next to a woman that Harry had described as "Aunt Petunia –lite." As if she were a bag of cookies or something!

Opening the door, fully prepared to make whoever it was go away and mind their own business, he chocked on his breath as he saw Hermione's slightly apologetic and very nervous face. His mind froze, and years of ingrained good manners came to his rescue. His mother had taught him something useful after all. Even if she wouldn't approve of who he was being polite to.

"Hermione... please come in."

"Thank you. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time." She chewed her lower lip briefly, then seemed to realize that she was doing it, and stopped. Pity. Draco shook the thought away.

"No, your not. I was just indulging my sweet tooth." He lead her to the kitchen, checking his own perceptions to see if he was hallucinating. No, even the water ring on the hall table where he had put a water glass down in his first week as a Muggle was still there.

Hermione Granger is in my house! The thought was awed and terrified and utterly childish. Draco barely recognized it as one of his own. Once in the kitchen, he noticed that he had left all the lights out, and hurriedly turned them on.

"Would you like some hot chocolate?" He was already reaching for another mug as he saw her smile. It made his stomach tighten and he felt an answering smile tugging at his own lips.

"Yes please." She sat down opposite his accustomed chair. Draco's smile widened, and he noticed that hers hadn't faded as she looked around. When she spoke again, it was almost to herself, "Cocoa seems to be our indulgence of choice."

"It is a pleasant drink, and you don't have a nasty headache the next morning. What's not to love?" He tried to make his tone light, but just that word, spoken in a room where Hermione was present, made his throat go tight. He set the cocoa in front of her and wiped his own with a damp cloth to get it clean before sitting down across from her.

There was silence as they sipped and stared out his big kitchen windows, though there wasn't much to see with their reflections in the way. Draco too the opportunity to look at her, noticing the slight twitchiness to her, as if it were difficult to sit still. It was so unlike the bookish woman he had thought her to be: able to sit reading for hours on end. He decided to brave conversation.

"So, what brings you here?"

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Hermione looked around Draco's Muggle house, and found it absolutely charming, if a little sterile. Still, it wasn't like he had been able to put up paintings of his favorite wizards, or ancestors, on the walls for the last few years. Maybe he just hadn't gotten around to it yet. The house was spacious, and she felt a little of the antsy-ness fade from her, also noting that it wasn't in the least bit drafty or dank, like the older Wizard houses.

Perfect for a library The thought came unbidden, and the whole train came skidding to halt at it. What was she doing? She couldn't just go through Draco Malfoy's house and categorize it as if she were looking to buy it. By all accounts he was happy living here. She'd never know if her books would benefit from the conditions in his living room. Though they were perfect, she mused.

Snap out of it Hermione! She gave herself a mental shake and followed him into the kitchen. Where it was dark. She was startled for a moment, then her attention was drawn to the large windows opposite the doorway. Moving a little closer, she noticed a good view of the night sky through them, and then Draco hit the light switch.

The thought of chocolate immediately helped her nerves as she sat down. His kitchen looked like he actually used it, which amazed her. It wasn't cluttered, but had all the important things, like pots, pans and various sizes of wooden spoon. She smiled a little sadly when he handed her the cocoa. It looks more lived in than mine. Somehow this wasn't what she had expected from a comparison of their lives. Draco Malfoy settled somewhere and living comfortably without having something to do with the balance of world power. And her, she hadn't expected to be a woman who lived alone when she did get to see home, which wasn't often, and purely about business when she was abroad. Despite many people having shown an interest, her only friends were still the ones she'd made at Hogwarts, and her romances had failed when the man realized that she wasn't going to drop everything and play "house".

"So, what brings you here?" Draco's voice stopped that bitter train of thought, and she was grateful. Some things weren't worth dwelling on.

"To be honest, I got homesick. Harry gave me your address, and I wanted to see a friendly face." It was nearly honest, and she was proud that her voice hadn't squeaked or otherwise embarrassed her. The surprise on his face was worth any embarrassment though, especially when he gave her a wide, pleased smile. It was an honest expression, and she knew that she was one of a very few people to ever see it.

"What do you miss from home?" He looked at her, genuine curiosity in his gray eyes.

She thought about it, trying to pin down that feeling among the hoard of others that just being around him evoked. "Nothing specific. It's more the idea of home. I miss being somewhere that feels familiar, that doesn't require that I eat out for every meal, or have a map to get around. Although that last one isn't a problem here." She smiled, though her answer didn't quite satisfy her. There was also the feeling of homesickness that she got while she was home. The feeling that something was missing. Sometimes she wondered how, even with her work, and her friends, she had ended up lonely.

"You sound like I did, last year." His voice was wistful, and she had to listen carefully to catch the last bit. It didn't seem like he was going to continue, for a moment. Then: "Before I was allowed back, I felt like I was trapped, no matter where I was, or how much control I had over my situation. It wasn't enough. Though I still feel trapped some days, it's not so much anymore." He paused again, then laughed bitterly. "What's really funny is that I may not feel as trapped any more, but I'm more trapped than I was, not being able to travel anywhere without the Ministry's permission. I'm a Malfoy after all." His face contorted, and if he'd eaten something rotten, and he wouldn't look at her.

Hermione felt something in her twist. She had known that the Ministry wouldn't trust anyone from a family that had been confirmed collaborators with Voldemort, but she had thought it was what they deserved. Listening to Draco, she felt ashamed of herself. The Ministry wouldn't give him permission to go anywhere for at least another two years.

If I go home, I won't get to see him. The thought came to her in a mix of panic and sorrow. She wasn't sure what to do with it, but knew that she couldn't just shove it away.

"You may be a Malfoy, but your Draco Malfoy. Someday the Ministry will realize that not every human weakness is hereditary. If that were the case, than a Muggle-born like me wouldn't have made it into Hogwarts, and the whole issue would have been moot."

For just a second, she saw something in his eyes as he looked at her. She couldn't identify it, but it made her realize that he must have only one or two people he could talk to. That were willing to look past the name and reputation. He may have been a pain in the ass during school, but she and Harry had gotten to know Draco as a person rather than an extension of his father. She hadn't thought about what a difference that made in her perception of the beautiful man sitting across from her.

And hadn't she promised not to let her mind wander in that direction?

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Draco was amazed at himself. Opening up like that to Hermione was just asking to get kicked in the teeth. What had possessed him to tell her about the claustrophobia-like feeling he got every time he had thought about his enforced Muggle existence. He had been denied magic, denied spells, but had been allowed to travel the globe, should the whim take him. Now he had magic back, but couldn't leave London without permission. They probably wouldn't let him anywhere near Hogwarts for decades.

And then Hermione had to go and equate being evil to getting magic from Muggle parents. If she could be a Muggle-born Witch, then apparently he could be a righteous Malfoy. And why was she here talking to him anyway. From the way she had been behaving, he had thought he'd scared her away with his revelations about why he'd turned on Voldemort. If he was being honest with himself, which wasn't often, he had to admit that his reasons for turning scared him too.

It was just so difficult to remember that there were still things that he couldn't tell her, especially when she was looking at him as if she had forgotten that the rest of the world existed. It was probably just the expression she got when she was focusing, but it was still elating. That she would give some of her time to him.

"The Ministry has too many things to worry about before they can get to the problem of Wizards Who Don't Warrant Azkaban, But Aren't To Be Trusted Either." She giggled at the title, and he had to smile. The whole thing was just so bureaucratic, and it had always been like that.

"Were you looking at the stars?" The question came out of the blue, taking him by surprise. He looked out his kitchen window, noting their reflections in the glass.

"Yes. No matter where I am, they're always there." His voice sounded throaty, even to him. He always got emotional and protective about his quirks.

"That's the great thing about them. Even if I'm on the other side of the world, I can still find the stars. It's comforting when I'm traveling."

Debating with himself, Draco reached for his wand, and pointed it at the light switch. Hermione nodded, and he flipped it to "off." The kitchen was very dark for a moment, but as his eyes adjusted, the view he had been admiring before returned. The stars were beautiful tonight, the sky clear and endlessly black. He heard Hermione sigh and lean back in her chair. He could just make out her profile, and she looked content, which was better than bored.

He looked back out at the stars, letting his mind wander, relaxing for the first time in years.

How could I not love her? The thought came and went without Draco really realizing what he had admitted to himself, being too busy soaking up the first true peace he'd known since Hogwarts. All he knew was that he had never felt so content in his life.

Of course it ended too soon, and Hermione was moving slowly through the kitchen, cleaning her mug, and collecting her jacket as Draco drifted out of his reverie. Instead of turning on the bright electric lights, he used his wand.

"Lumios." Hermione looked at him, startled. Their gazes met and held, and understanding passing between them that neither could have explained if they tried. The Draco turned away, to put his own mug in the sink. "Do you have a way back to where you're staying?"

"No, I need to call a cab." He looked at her questioningly. She shifted nervously, then: "I don't like flu powder."

He nodded, understanding the reluctance, and handed her the handset to his telephone and the little list of numbers that he'd depended on in his Muggle life. She smiled in thanks, and quickly went about getting herself transportation. Draco cursed his lack of foresight in not getting a driver's license, like Potter had, if only because then he'd have an excuse to spend more time with Hermione. Couldn't do anything about it now though.

"They'll be here in ten minutes." She set the phone and number list down on the counter, and turned to look at him. The room was still dim, in what would have been romantic lighting if he wasn't telling himself not to think like that. Hermione's eyes were dark and glittered slightly. She really was beautiful, Draco once again had to force himself to remain silent.

"Good. I hope I helped with the homesickness."

"You did. Thank you." They weren't looking at each other any more, and Draco no longer had an excuse to not turn on the overhead lights. So he did, and the sudden brightness felt as if it were washing away whatever intimacy had been in the moment. He felt grief, all the while telling himself to snap out of it.

The doorbell rang again, and Hermione turned to leave. He wasn't sure if he should walk her to the door or not, so he followed her slowly into the main hallway.

"Have a good night." He said softly as her hand reached for the doorknob. She paused, then turned and walked back towards him, and odd and determined look on her face. For a second, he thought she was going to hit him, and tried desperately to think of what he'd done.

She stopped right in front of him, and suddenly leaned up and kissed his cheek. "You have a good night too. And thank you Draco." She turned and nearly ran out the door, but he was too shocked to notice. Hermione had kissed him! A wide smile crossed his face as he savored the first truly kind touch he had recieved in five years.

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End Part Six

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Thanks To:

Jivanna: I'm glad that you like, and thanks for the compliment. The highest to award a writer, don't'cha know ^_^

Seeress: Welcome Back! And chocolate is a great way to begin anything, so I used it. I hope this section was up to par.

And thanks to everyone for reading! Now reaview so that I can thank you by name!