"Diagon Alley"

Hermione felt the familiar sensation in her stomach as she spun round and round, surrounded by dancing green flames. She winced as her elbow scraped against something and pulled her arms closer to her body.

She clumsily landed in a fireplace. Other people in other fireplaces that filled the hallway landed neatly and dusted off their robes. Hermione blushed, feeling like a fool.

Trying to clean herself up best she could, she stumbled out of the hallway, through a doorway, down some stairs, through a wide corridor, through another, larger, doorway, into a little girl with pointed ears, and finally out the main entrance. She half-ran out, slightly panting. Looking up at the huge stone building that she almost felt just spat her out, Hermione read in prominent orangey-reddish letters: Diagon Alley Floo Network

Ever so slightly shaking her head, Hermione silently walked down the street in the direction of Harry's shop.

As she pushed the door open, a bell rang and a head popped up from beneath the counter.

"Hermione!" said the familiar voice. The girl in question smiled and walked over. Harry gave her a quick embrace and ducked down underneath the counter once again. Hermione could hear him rummaging through papers and boxes and what sounded like…ducks?

"Um, ah…Harry?" Hermione said curiously, "What's with the ducks?"

Harry chuckled and emerged with a quacking and shaking cardboard box, securely shut with spell-o-tape.

"Handle polishers, actually. A pair of our favorite twins thought it would be funny to charm them to waddle and quack. I actually wouldn't have minded if they had done it after I opened the shop instead of right after I closed it-the polishers had plenty of time to leave droppings everywhere."

Hermione smirked. Typical Fred and George.

She walked around the shop, giggling as one of the handle polishers waddled behind her. It really hadn't changed much-Harry could manage to make any space unbearably messy or cramped and had succeeded in doing so even with the huge shop he owned. Broomsticks lined the walls, really in no particular order, and sitting on shelves was a mess of random items. "Harry's" had been a hit. It was a wizard's paradise: Quidditch supplies, Firewhiskey, and the latest Quidditch games seen the old fashioned way- magivision. Nothing like seeing your favorite players zooming around as holographic-type figures.

This was somewhat comforting to Hermione. It was nice to know that something in her life was normal and understandable.

Hermione sat on one of the stools at the bar- since it was near closing time only one cloaked figure accompanied her. No, that wasn't really the word for it. Avoided was more like it. Before she sat down he was already six seats away, as she sat she neatly crossed her ankles and folded her hands, nodding and muttering, "Good day to you, sir." The man's head lifted a little and the light from a candle reflected in his eyes. It was odd, the two eyes glittering like diamonds in that sea of darkness beneath the hood. He ordered a drink and moved down another seat.

Hermione ignored him after that, thinking him to be rude and unfriendly. But still, those shining eyes were branded into her mind.

Later on, Hermione found herself laughing with Harry in front of a hearty fire, sinking into a worn overstuffed chair. It was so easy to talk to him, the months apart made no difference.

As the loud joking and laughter died down, a short silence filled the air. Hermione was the first to talk.

"Harry, why can't you tell me anything about your daughter?" All of a sudden the once comfortable silence turned tense.

"Can't answer that, Hermione. This isn't my place to talk."

"Wha-…Whaddya mean? Harry, I don't understand matters concerning your daughter being 'not your place to talk'."

"In a way that's the point."

Hermione looked confusedly into those green, green eyes. Harry was hiding something, Hermione knew him too well. Trying to distract herself, she checked her watch.

"It's really late, Harry, I've got to go." The two shared a hug and Hermione left, leaving with a smile and wave.

As the bell's jingling slowed and stopped, the cloaked figure rose from the chair and came towards Harry. He glided across the floor in a dementor-ish way…in a friendly dementor-ish way, if there is such a thing…

He stoop and let the hood fall. And there he was, blonde hair and all, the boy Harry had hated for six years. Hermione had so much to discover, so much to find out. She'd hated Draco almost as much as Harry had. But everything had changed after th-…

"Harry?" Draco said sternly. Harry groaned and turned, walking away and falling into the armchair Hermione had been in moments before.

"Harry." Draco put his mouth to one side and bit the inside of his right cheek. "You didn't tell her, did you? We came here, she was ready, I was ready…It was all for nothing."

"How could I!" Harry threw up his hands and shook his head, still facing away from his former nemesis that was on the verge of monologue. "And, no, Dray, I don't think she was ready. And if I told her it would just be, I dunno, weird. You should be the one."

"How can I. Harry, she won't believe me, she'll go berserk, she won't forgive me…or you, for that matter." The last bit struck Harry with something else to ponder.

"Dray, I just can't be the one, and that's final. But you're going to tell her. If you care for her at all, you'll tell her."

"What did I say about calling me 'Dray'? It was alright back when we were seventeen, but…ugh, we're getting off the topic. Harry, that's exactly why I can't tell her. You know what, it's late. I've got to go, too."

Harry finally turned. "Hey," he called, "tell her."

Draco closed his eyes, took a breath, and looked back. "Tell her," he repeated.

"Tell her," Harry sang.

"Gonna tell her," Draco sang in reply.

"Tell, tell, tell!" Harry called with a hand cupped around his mouth. Draco put his hand to the door. "Tell, tell, tell!"

"You better," came Harry's voice faintly. Draco turned and saw the black hair hiding behind the couch. Harry reached for the magivision control and Draco gave a slight smile that was a strange mixture of anger, sadness, and sarcasm as Viktor Krum's hologram went whizzing past him.

"Psh. Tell, tell, tell-no way in hell!" But the murmer wasn't audible and Draco left.

A/N: Woah, haven't updated since forever! Well, sorry to return with such a disappointing chapter, but, hey, I'm back!

I left so long, AARRGGHH! So much story to catch up on! I was TOTALLY busy writing my next few chapters and not stuffing my face with pizza and blueberry chocolate cake.(..scratch that...)

Thanks to all who reviewed. Love you all! And tell me if I didn't review a story of yours, I think I reviewed most of you guys', though…

Well, Happy Writing to all!

Noelle Andrews

p.s. And I hope you all watched the new Will & Grace episode-love that show:)