To my thousands of eager and supportive fans (yes, I know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, but there's a reason I'm so short) here it is: the FOURTH chapter. Now seriously, I would like to thank those of you who are reading my fan fiction. I sincerely hope you enjoy it, and that the often long waits (who am I kidding, there's always a long wait) between chapters are worth it. Oh and if you don't like this chapter, feel free to blame Halfling, since it was she who demanded (very annoyingly) that I persevere. After a prolonged mourning period after HBP, I finally feel like I'm ready to move forward and completely ignore the contents of book six. So go ahead, and enjoy (if you will) my newest chapter of this highly unlikely coupling. - Hobytlah

The Prodigal Son Returns

With their eyes firmly adhered to each other, Hermione was rather certain Harry and Ginny would not notice her hunting down one of their wedding guests. Yet no matter how hard she tried to make her way to the back of the Weasley's none-too-large garden she was continuously obstructed.

'Hello Hermione. What a pink dress robe you're wearing,' Luna Lovegood beamed at her, having suddenly popped up in front of Hermione. "I never really pictured you as wearing pink well. Ginny looks nice though, doesn't she?'

Hermione forced herself not to peer over Luna's shoulder for escape, and pasted on a smile.

'She does look beautiful, doesn't she?'

'Oh, and so happy too. I'm so glad she's happy. I've always liked Ginny… and Harry too.' Luna said, 'It's a pity she'll have to stop her quidditch coaching soon. I mean what with broom fumes being toxic for babies.'

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Luna. For all her airy-fairy ways she was certainly observant.

'Um…sorry Luna, but I've got to run. Loads to do, you know bridesmaid duties.'

'Yes, I hope you checked the bouquets for Snarkles.'

Hermione sidestepped Luna and squeezed through the mad throng of people to where she could still see his blond head. She could feel her already insipid smile start to slide of her face as she was furthered hampered by guests. Hermione tried to put on an air of needing to be somewhere in a hurry to account for her hasty smiles and hellos.

Finally, it seemed as if she had come to the outskirts of the enormous wedding party. Hermione could feel the material of her tight dress robe cutting into her ribs as she tried to catch her breath. She stopped where she stood and simply stared at him as her breathing returned to normal.

Draco Malfoy had not moved from underneath the apple tree from the time the ceremony began. As she stood there staring at his still figure, a niggling voice whispered at the back of her mind. 'He's standing there waiting for you, with every expectation that you will come to him. You're playing right into his hands.'

Hermione froze at the whisper of truth. Ten years, she had waited for this, waited for an explanation. But a lot had changed in the ten years of his absence. Hermione now knew that she didn't want to be one of those girls who kept going back. She wouldn't play Draco's game anymore. She knew he was watching her, seeing her hesitation. And she turned from him; knowing it wouldn't be easy to do but also believing herself to be strong enough to forget Draco and all the pain he still caused her.

She had not gone two steps when Hermione felt the wind knocked out of her. Her brain barely registered that she'd been tackled before she was being swung about.

'Weasley! Put me down!' Hermione screamed, closing her eyes against her swirling surroundings.

No matter the sorrow that Draco's mere presence brought her or the fact she felt like she was going to reveal the contents of her breakfast to the crowd, Hermione could not stop the laughter that bubbled from her. Hermione stumbled as the twirling suddenly stopped and was forced to grip the arms around her to prevent from collapsing to the ground.

'How did you know it was me?'

'I took a wild guess,' Hermione said, slowly opening her eyes to see, not Fred or George as she had expected, but Ron holding onto her. 'Ron! Are you drunk? What do you think you're doing swinging me around like a chandelier?'

'I thought you swung from chandeliers,' he laughed, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione smiled sardonically at him: a look Ron quickly recognized as trouble. And in an attempt to retreat, he pulled away from her. The loud tearing sound seemed to go on forever, followed by Hermione's squeal of shock. Ron's retreating figure froze at the sound. Hermione was staring at him, horrorstruck, her hands clutching at the back of her dress.

'Ron, look what you've done to my dress!'

'Me? I didn't do-.'

Ron looked down at the ornate buttons on the sleeve of his dress robe. They must have caught onto the dress as he pulled away.

'Um…don't worry about it. I'll fix it. I promise. Just turn around,' he said.

Hermione obliged (a crowd of guests had formed around them to investigate the commotion, so she couldn't give into the urge to give Ron a good thumping).

'Don't give me a tail,' she said over her shoulder in jest. Then she saw the mischievous grin that lit up Ron's face. 'Ronald Weasley, don't you dare!'

Not trusting the look of delight on his face, Hermione turned to the only person she knew to save her, 'Mrs Weasley. Mrs Weasley, I need your help.'

Ron paled, hastily putting his wand away and trying to blend into the crowd to escape blame for this mishap. As Mrs Weasley bustled over with a little gasp, Hermione gratefully gave over to her machinations.

Amidst the head shaking, dress repairs and dirty looks sent in Ron's direction, Hermione was able to forget a certain blond interloper. She allowed herself to be bundled into the ministry car set towards the Potter-Weasley reception, for further celebration of this joyous day.

Draco watched all this with a harsh attempt at a smile on his lips. He did not want to be here. And if there had been any other way he would not have returned. Draco was never one to lie to himself. He knew that Hermione still had a hold over him. He just hoped that Hermione would be prepared for what that hold would cost her.

'You must be relieved to get out of this,' Hermione said wistfully as she helped Ginny out of her wedding gown. They were standing in a small room above the ballroom where the reception was being held. As Ginny pulled on her silvery blue dress robe, she stared at Hermione from the mirror.

As she smoothed out her robe she whispered, 'I'm sorry.'

Hermione looked up and their gaze met in the mirror. There was no need for clarification and Hermione knew she would not convince Ginny that she was blameless.

'I knew he was back anyway, Gin. I knew and I didn't tell you. So I guess we're even.'

'But you didn't know he was coming to the wedding... I didn't know how to tell you.'

Ginny turned to look at Hermione with worry in her eyes. Hermione shook her head and clasped Ginny's hand in her own.

'I don't blame you. You were probably worried I was going to back out of the wedding, you stupid cow. Now come on, everyone's waiting for you.'

Ginny gave Hermione a light shove on the shoulder for the bovine comment and got a wink in return.

Hermione shrugged, 'Besides, it's over. He came, I saw and it's over.'

She pulled open the door and walked headlong into a rather solid human chest. She stepped aside before Ginny could barrel ahead as well.

'I'm sorry. I didn't –.' Hermione stopped when she saw it was Draco. Her heart suddenly seemed to thump loudly. 'What are you doing here?'

He didn't even deign to reply. Draco wasn't even looking at her. Rather, he looked beyond Hermione towards Ginny.

'I wondered if I might have the pleasure of escorting the bride downstairs.' Draco drawled lazily.

Hermione glared at him through narrowed eyes for a tense few seconds. Without a word she released Ginny's hand, and bounded down the stairs before blending in with the crowd on the dance floor.

'Shall we?'

Draco gallantly offered Ginny his arm and she silently wrapped a hand around it. As they began to descend the stairs, Ginny broke the heavy silence.

'I never knew you to be such a charmer, Malfoy.'

'There's a lot you don't know about me, Ginevra.'

'I know you've saved my husband's life on numerous occasions. And for that I am ever grateful. I know that's why he believes he can trust you. I also know that I wouldn't trust you as far as Hermione could fly.'

Draco gave a sharp laugh. The harsh bark made Ginny look at him and she saw that the laughter failed to reach his eyes.

'You always were a clever one, Weasley.'

'It's Potter now.'

They had reached the ballroom landing and Ginny calculated that she had approximately ten seconds before everyone's eyes were on her. With that in mind, she quickly dug her heel into Draco's foot. The expression on his face didn't change at all to indicate the excruciating pain he must be experiencing.

'That was for Hermione. If you do anything, anything at all to hurt her…' Ginny lowered her voice, 'Just know that I'll be watching you, Malfoy.'

Having pushed through the crowd, Harry took his new bride's hand from Draco's arm. He lowered his head until his lips were brushing against Ginny's ear.

'You can take your foot off Draco's now,' he whispered. Ginny beamed at him, before obeying.

'You're a lucky man, Potter,' Draco said seriously.

'You could have been too,' Harry said, his voice barely audible, 'You need to talk to Hermione, Malfoy.'

'Don't you worry. It's on my to-do list.'

'I mean it, Draco. You have to speak to Hermione. That's something I'm not going to do for you.'

Simultaneously, the three of them turned to watch as Hermione tried to furtively escape into the gardens outside.

'And here's your chance,' Ginny smiled, before leading Harry towards the dance floor.

Draco ignored the stares he was getting from fellow guests; particularly the menacing ones he was receiving from certain red-haired males, and retraced Hermione's steps out into the cold night.

Hermione felt relieved to feel the crisp air against her cheeks after the crush inside. It had been a very long day, and her feet were aching like there was no tomorrow. With a relieved sigh, she slipped out of her beautiful but pain inducing high heels. She held onto the stone railing as her feet became accustomed to being free again. Hermione forced herself to focus on the cold breeze on her skin, the smooth concrete beneath her feet, anything to stop the anger and hurt brought to mind by Draco. She should have known he wouldn't have simply left after the wedding. No, that was just too damn considerate for him. And then for him to ignore her as he did; that was petty. As much as Hermione hated to admit it to herself, it had hurt. She shook her head and reiterated to herself that she was not going to go down that road again.

'What? No weeping welcome at my sudden resurrection?'

Hermione stiffened at the sound of the drawling voice behind her. The callousness of his tone hit her hard. She didn't need this now. In fact she didn't need this: full stop.

'For a grieving girlfriend, you don't seem to be very surprised that I've returned from the dead.'

Draco had expected a reaction from her; had in fact been planning to coax the feisty Hermione he once knew so well, out for a round. But the sight of her clinging to the balustrade as if to absorb its strength, made his jaw tighten. He strode forward and reached out for Hermione.

'Don't!' Hermione's voice shook with emotion. As she turned to face him, the tears streaming down her face glinted in the moonlight. 'Don't touch me. Don't come near me.' Once she began, Hermione knew she couldn't stop. All the emotions she had kept pent up inside herself came rushing forward, 'What? Did you think you could just waltz back in here like the freaking prodigal son, and I'd welcome you back with open arms? Well, I'm not going to welcome you back from the dead, Draco. I knew you weren't dead! You left me to think you died but for ten years I knew you weren't dead. If you had died, Draco, a part of me would have died as well and I would have felt it. I would have known.'

Hermione hated that she was crying in front of him; hated that she couldn't pretend that his return had no effect on her what-so-ever.

'So don't come back here with your snide comments and playing your stupid little games, expecting…' Hermione broke off, sobbing. She covered her face with her hands, trying to hide the tears that wouldn't stop.

With both his hands now stuffed into his pockets, Draco forced himself to watch Hermione's tears fall. He hated to see her like this. But Draco knew Hermione. He knew how she worked and he knew how to fix this.

'In the name of Salazar, Granger, I never knew my leaving would make you so bitter,' Draco drawled.

At that, Hermione felt every nerve ending in her body stiffen. She swept her tears away and stared at Draco incredulously, dumbfounded by his arrogance. It didn't take long for Hermione to feel the anger burning within her.

'Don't, for even one moment think you had any part in making me who I am today. If I'm bitter, it's because I made myself that way. Don't you dare assume you had any effect on me what-so-ever.'

Draco laughed, now this was the Hermione he knew.

'Oh come on Hermione, who do you think you're kidding? If I had no effect on you what-so-ever, you wouldn't be trembling,' He stepped towards her, reaching up to cup her cheek, 'Trembling at the mere thought of me touching you.'

Hermione guffawed loudly in his face and slapped his hand away. This not being precisely the reaction Draco had anticipated, the arrogant grin on his face slipped.

'Trembling at the mere thought of your touching me?' Hermione mocked. Fluttering her eyelashes, she continued in a sickly sweet voice, 'Oh Draco, don't you come any closer lest you be forced to use your spindly arms to catch me as I swoon because of your mere presence.'

Draco's ridiculous comments had served to shake Hermione out of her momentary emotional lapse, and she knew she had to get as far away from him as possible. With a final derisive glare, she pushed past him roughly to re-enter the ballroom.

'Stay away from me, Draco.'

Inside, the celebrations were still in full swing. After her round with Draco, and full-ranged mood swing, all Hermione wished to do was go home, take a long, hot bath and go to bed. As they were still clinging to each other like limpets, Hermione was fairly certain that Ginny and Harry wouldn't notice her premature departure. Impatiently, she summoned her cloak and strode towards the exit. Someone grabbed her arm, and Hermione spun around, ready to sucker-punch Draco.

'You're not leaving, are you?' Hermione's fiancé, Greg, grinned, 'I just got here.'

He failed to notice her livid expression and Hermione could only frown at him in surprise.

'Greg, what are you doing here? I thought you said you had work.'

'Everything fell through at the last minute, so I just thought I might as well join in the celebrations. Are you alright, Hermione? You're looking a bit peaky.'

Hermione didn't respond, simply set her eyes on her fiancé's features. A look of concern marred his brow. He had strong, defined cheekbones, friendly, tortoise-brown eyes and fine golden brown hair. His tanned skin looked almost golden, set against the black of the smart tuxedo he was wearing. Nevertheless, the sharp face of a pale blond memory, intruded on her thoughts. Hermione shook the image away.

'I'm fine. I'm just ready for bed.'

Greg gathered her to his side and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

'Um…Hermione, is there a reason you're not wearing any shoes?'

Hermione looked down at her feet and realized she had left her shoes out on the balcony. There was absolutely no way she was going back to get them.

'Excuse me.'

Greg turned at the sound of the voice, spinning Hermione with him. Hermione turned her face from Draco, who stood before them holding her shoes.

'Hermione left these behind. I thought she might need them.'

'Very Cinderella of you, Hermione,' Greg chuckled, not sensing her unease.

'I'm certainly no Prince Charming,' Draco said quietly

Hermione frowned at Draco's knowledge of the muggle fairy tale. Draco merely raised an eyebrow as he offered his right hand to Greg.

'I'm Draco Malfoy.'

'Greg Johnson. I'm Hermione's fiancé.'

Hermione saw Draco's gaze narrow and his jaw tighten for the merest of seconds before he swept his gaze over her.

'Well…Congratulations. I must say, that is a very unusual engagement ring,' he said, staring at her left hand.

'Um well, no actually. We haven't yet gone ring shopping. Can't seem to find the time,' Greg looked at Draco in confusion.

'Ah…my mistake,' Draco declared, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

Hermione was no longer listening to the conversation. She looked down at her left hand and stared at the steel band on her wedding finger. The ring that she had slipped on ten years before, in a moment of grief, and promptly forgotten about…

Disclaimer: All characters (except the insipid Greg) belong to Ms J.K Rowling.