A walk in the park

It had been a long and tiring week for Hermione. At the Ministry, she had been constantly debating, overseeing and approving things, but that's the way she liked it. It was good to be able to get back to work after the previous week's distraction by Draco's presence. While Hermione hadn't seen him recently, she was well informed of his movements. Harry had been diligent with his reports to Hermione about their newest Auror recruit.

It seemed that Draco's return was impeccably timed; He was proving an invaluable asset to Harry's team. When Harry had defeated Voldemort in a climactic show-down ten years ago, most of the wizarding world had believed that all evil was gone forever. As such, very few witches and wizards saw the need to train as Aurors, believing the positions to be redundant.

However, contrary to popular belief, evil was not gone, and could never truly be banished. While their leader was well and truly defeated, many of Voldemort's supporters still remained. Although they lacked the power and the resources to cause real mayhem, many were content to wreak silent havoc in the background. Over the years the Ministry had had to contend with numerous incidents of muggle and mudblood baiting, from petty pranks to serious acts of rape and brutality. Though the issue was no where near the scale of Voldemort's reign, it was nonetheless still a problem. Hermione's controversial appointment as Minister of Magic two years ago had not eased matters in any way.

Now the Ministry was facing a dilemma of a shortage of Aurors when the older generation were forced to retire. It was amazing what a difference just one extra wizard (in the form of Draco Malfoy) was making in the Auror division. His mysterious mercenary training and skills had assisted in an improved number of investigations leading to arrests. Draco certainly had a knack for being in the right place at the right time.

Despite her previous misgivings, Hermione was sincerely glad that Draco was proving himself admirably. From Harry's tone at each of the daily reports, it was clear that he too was impressed with the work of their recruit.

After Harry had left Hermione's office that day, she had signed the last of her approvals and then gotten ready to make her way home. At the last minute she forwent her usual apparition home and decided to walk. Although she only lived approximately twenty minutes from the Ministry, Hermione always apparated to and from work. It gave her more time to spend at the office. But this evening she yearned for some fresh air and exercise.

As she stepped out onto the London streets, Hermione was glad she had worn her pant suit combo today. She often exchanged her work robes for muggle suits. She liked to think of it as dressing in traditional garb, as was done at primary school for multi-cultural day. She still wore a black cloak, though, to ward off the chill. But between the Lord of the Rings craze and the London Goths, it was almost odd for a person not to wear one.

Hermione smiled at the opportunity to stretch out her legs and work off a week's worth of kinks. She was slightly disappointed when she saw her flat up ahead, so she made a promise to herself to do this at least once a week.

Hermione froze when she reached the flat. When she saw the door was ajar, she knew something was wrong. She pushed the door open with a frown as she reached for her wand. Although night was quickly falling outside, there was still enough light for Hermione to see that her place had been completely trashed. All her belongings were sprawled on the floor as if a hurricane had swept across her flat. She walked through the house quietly though she knew that the culprit was no longer there. No room had been left untouched. Hermione trembled, still clutching at her wand. It wasn't that she was afraid. She had faced much worse than this before. Rather, she was overwhelmed by a sense of violation, the feeling that comes when one's home is invaded and befouled.

Hermione knew that it could all be cleaned up and repaired with a flick of the wand. But as she stood in the mess of her flat, she felt absolutely drained. Nothing like this had ever happened when Ginny was here. Theirs was a reportedly safe wizarding community with only a few reclusive muggle residents. Still feeling shocked, she walked robotically towards her study.

Here too, there were books and papers everywhere. Automatically she bent down to pick up her precious books, but stopped, with a frown, as she noticed a flash of silver on her desk. Sweeping papers aside, Hermione saw that the mobile phone Greg had given her still lay there, precisely where she had left it that morning. She picked up the phone and walked out of the room again. She marched through her house, eyes searching out anything that might be of value. It was all still there: her wireless, her antique vases, her money bag. What in blue blazes was going on? Why on earth would anybody break into her house and not take anything?

Hermione continued into her bedroom but froze when she saw that the drawers of her bedside table had been overturned. She reached under her blouse for the ring attached to her necklace. For some inexplicable reason she was again profoundly glad that she had kept the ring with her.

It was growing steadily darker, but Hermione didn't bother with any lighting; nor did she start to clean up. She was feeling far too shaky and confused to do anything, even a simple tidying spell. What she truly wished for at that moment was some company. Ginny's calming presence would have been ideal, but Hermione wasn't going to be the one to interrupt the newlyweds' honeymoon. Remembering the phone she had in her hand, she quickly flipped it open and dialled the only number stored in its memory. Greg's phone rang and rang but he didn't pick up. Though this was not overly unusual, since Greg often became immersed in his work, Hermione couldn't help feeling a little upset. When the call was directed to voicemail, she hung up and sank to the floor. She leant against her bed and pulled her knees up to her chest. Leaning her chin on her knees, Hermione felt starkly alone. The house was now in complete darkness, but still she didn't get up to right her things. She didn't bother to contact the Ministry and report the burglary. The media would have a field day over the Minister's lack of security. After a while, she dimly registered the sound of a voice coming from her front door.

'Hello,' the voice called, 'Anyone here?'

Hermione stiffened; then admonished herself for doing so. Whoever had broken into her house was unlikely to call out. 'Besides, I can protect myself,' she thought, gripping her wand.

She could hear footsteps now. Whoever-it-was was now inside her house and coming closer. At the last minute she reached down to grab her mobile, just in case. Hermione slipped out of her room and tiptoed down the hallway. All was silent now. She had just reached the living room archway, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Hermione reacted instinctively, turning a kick into her assailant's side and throwing out her left hand. She stepped back ready to make the next move, only to see her mobile phone bounce off Draco Malfoy's head.

'I suppose I should know better than to sneak up on you,' Draco muttered, with one hand rubbing at his waist and the other at his head, 'But your missile certainly caught me by surprise.' He gave the phone a tap with his foot where it lay on the carpet.

'Good,' she said unfeelingly.

'What the hell happened here, Hermione?'

Hermione shook her head at him. 'What the hell are you doing here, Draco? What makes you think you can just wander into my house without an invitation?' Though she would rather eat a vat full of fish eyes than admit it, she was glad Draco was here. Snapping at him distracted her from her self-pity.

Draco scowled at her. 'Your door was open. I thought something might be wrong so I wanted to check to see if you were alright. Clearly I was mistaken.'

'And you just happened to be taking a stroll passed my house, were you?'

'No, I came here to speak with you,' Draco paused, eyes narrowing, 'Wait… You think I did this, don't you?'

They glared at each other for a long moment before Hermione finally shook her head. 'Even you aren't dumb enough to return to the scene of the crime.'

She sighed. After her momentary adrenaline rush, she was once again feeling drained. 'What do you want, Draco?' she asked quietly.

'You don't want me to help you clean this up first?' Draco was looking around her living room, but Hermione got the feeling he was trying to put off talking, despite the fact he was the one to come to her.

'No. If you want to talk; then let's go for a walk. I just want to get out of here.'

'Fine.'

Hermione walked out of the house without waiting for Draco. She felt rather stupid when he clicked the door shut and gave the handle a tap with his wand to lock it. He probably thought she was a careless idiot, and deserved to have her house broken into. Hermione frowned. It didn't matter what Draco thought of her, she told herself. He joined her and the two started down the sidewalk.

'Are you alright?' Draco asked, his voice unusually quiet.

'I'm fine.' Hermione wasn't fine. She was physically and emotionally drained. But she had no wish to return to her flat only to be left alone with a mess to clean up, so she lied. 'What was it you wanted to speak to me about?'

'I just wanted to thank you for the job.'

Hermione could only stare at him in disbelief.

'I know how much it would have tested your need for control. And I'm glad you were able to put aside your anger–.'

'I'm tired of being angry, Draco. I've been angry at you for ten years and now I'm just tired.'

They continued to walk in a companionable silence. The chill night air was beginning to make Hermione's skin tingle, but still she did not want to return to her flat. As if sensing her discomfort, Draco slipped off his own heavier cloak and wrapped it around Hermione's shoulders. She murmured a quiet thank you. Hermione didn't know what to make of this new Draco. So unexpectedly, the sullen drawling Draco she had become accustomed to in the previous weeks was gone. Now he was coming over for a chat, and offering to help her clean up a mess. It was almost like the past decade had not occurred, and she had her old boyfriend back. Before she could stop her train of thought, the words she had yearned to ask flew from her mouth.

'Why did you leave Draco?'

Draco didn't look at her, but Hermione knew he had heard her. It was clear that he had been expecting this question from her. Maybe that was why he'd been so reluctant to talk to her.

'You don't need to know why,' he paused as Hermione puffed up with indignation at being told what she might or mightn't need. 'What I mean is: even if I do tell you why I left, it's not going to change anything. It was ten years ago, Hermione. Everything has changed since. You've got Greg now and why I left ten years ago just doesn't matter anymore.'

Hermione wanted to disagree but she knew that Draco had made up his mind and would not be swayed. In refusing her question, he had simply fuelled her burning need for answers. But Draco was right. The past lay firmly in the past and dredging it up would not change anything. It would only bring back those painful memories. She may want to know his reasons for leaving, but she certainly didn't need to. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself quiet, and contemplated the bitterness in Draco's tone instead. They walked through the children's park, which was rather eerie in the night.

'I didn't come back here expecting things to go back to the way they were. But to tell you the truth I didn't expect that so much would've changed,' he admitted.

'Why did you come back?'

That familiar sardonic grin reappeared. 'They say that there's no place like home, right?'

Hermione wrinkled her nose at him, though he probably couldn't see her in the dark, the Wizard of Oz reference had to be a coincidence.

'You know, Potter was the one who put me up to this; demanded I talk to you. And I'm glad I did.'

'You did what Harry told you to?'

'Gods, no. He wanted me to explain everything to you, and I haven't done that.'

Hermione had to laugh at his stubbornness. She supposed it was because Draco reminded her of herself in that sense. The comfortable silence fell again between them. It was an unusually still night, with the many trees littering the park, casting shadows but standing motionless.

"I'm not stupid enough to think that we'll ever be friends, Hermione,' Draco mumbled after a while. 'But I'd like to know that you didn't hate me anymore for what I put you through.'

'I never hated you, Draco,' Hermione shook her head, feeling rather sad, 'I never understood why you did it, but I never hated you for doing it.'

Draco stopped suddenly. She thought he was going to say something in reply but instead he shoved her behind him, drawing out his wand. She shoved him back to indicate what she thought of his actions, but nonetheless stayed behind him, sensing his tension. In the tranquil darkness it should have been easy to spot unwanted company, but they were both surprised when a rock was flung from the shadows, hitting Draco on his temple. Hermione yelled as he crumpled to the ground. She would have reached down to check on him, but a hand reached out and grasped her by her forearm. Another came over her mouth and Hermione was pulled up against a hard body and dragged away from Draco's unmoving form. She struggled to reach for her wand but was entangled within Draco's cloak. It was dark and she could no longer see Draco. Though she knew it would be futile, Hermione tried to call out. She couldn't manage a sound, as her jaw was effectively clamped shut. She kicked and elbowed as hard as she could but it seemed to have no effect on her assailant. A gloved hand was pulling fruitlessly at her fingers. A chilling sensation spread through Hermione as she remembered the ring around her neck.

Hermione stopped kicking. She collapsed in her attacker's arms. Unprepared for her sudden dead weight, his grip loosened. She stood up once more and threw her head back. It connected with a painful thud and she heard a hiss of pain. Hermione was just about to step away when she was roughly shoved to the ground. She saw a flash of blond and realised that Draco had joined the foray. Her heart thumped in relief that he was alright.

Hermione's head was already pounding and she didn't realise she had groaned out loud until Draco turned to look at her. In that moment of distraction, Hermione's masked attacker took the opportunity to slam his fist across Draco's jaw, before running away. Thrown to the ground by the force of the punch, Draco stood up to see his opponent sprinting off. He wanted to go after him but Hermione was groaning on the grass and he knew she would need attention.

Draco strode forward to where Hermione sat. He didn't stop to chat, simply picked her up and held her close to his chest. He walked quickly and steadily as if Hermione wasn't a burden at all and soon they were back at her flat. Draco wouldn't let her down to open the door. He whispered unintelligibly and the door opened on its own accord. Hermione's head was spinning too much for her to contemplate this.

Kicking the door shut, Draco carried her into the living room. He used one foot to clear the mess before setting her down on the couch. She gave a grunt of thanks and closed her eyes against the pain in her head. Settling next to her, Draco gently laid a hand on her forehead and placed his other hand on the back of her skull. Hermione would have frowned but that made her head ache more, so she gave over to his touch. A soothing heat began to emanate from Draco's hands and the pounding in her head began to recede. She opened her eyes to see him staring down at her.

'Thank you.' Her voice sounded croaky and laced with sleep. 'What was that?'

Draco gently pulled his hands away from her and sat back against the couch. 'Reiki: The ancient art of healing. I learnt it when I was in India,' he said, tersely. Draco stood up suddenly, looking very angry.

'I can't believe I let this happen to you. I was right there and I let that bastard maul you.'

'Let him?' Hermione was incredulous. 'Draco, you were knocked out. Besides, it all happened in a matter of seconds. There was nothing you could've done.'

He growled as he looked down at her, then grasped her chin and turned it sideways so her cheek faced him.

'Look what that piece of filth did to you.'

'What do you mean?'

'He hit you.'

'No he didn't,' Hermione frowned as she recalled her assailant's grip, 'He grabbed me… but he never really tried to hurt me.' This night was becoming perplexing beyond belief. There were burglars who didn't steal things, and attackers who didn't attack. Feeling puzzled, Hermione stood up and looked at herself in the mirror above her mantelpiece. She stared at the pale woman that looked back at her, a mottled-purple bruise colouring her cheek. It looked a thousand fold worse than it felt. For the first time since she had returned to her flat, Hermione felt laughter bubbling up within her.

'He didn't do that, Draco,' she chuckled as she sat back down. 'You did.'

'What?' Draco glared at her angrily.

'You must have taken a swipe at me as you came flying to my rescue. Don't worry about it,' she said; then pointed at that mark that was blooming across his jaw, 'You've got a work of beauty of your own. Listen, if I heal yours will you return the favour?'

It seemed Draco had gone back to being subdued and he simply nodded. Hermione flicked her wand over his jaw, saying the spell quickly and Draco did the same for her. His hand followed to trace the wand's movement across her cheek.

'I'm sorry, Hermione.'

'Don't be.' She tried to ignore the sensation she felt at his caress. 'You got him off me in the end, and that's all that matters.' Hermione looked straight into his eyes, 'Thanks for being there for me, Draco.'

His jaw tightened and Hermione discerned a flash of pain and self-loathing in his eyes before he turned away from her. Despite the two cloaks she wore, Hermione unexpectedly felt cold.

'It's late. I better go,' Draco mumbled, already heading for the door.

Hermione stared around at her living room. It was still a complete mess. She still had to clean up her entire house before she could even contemplate going to bed… alone. She swallowed against a wave of self-pity.

'Draco, wait.' It came out as a sad little whisper but he turned back nonetheless. 'Don't go…not yet.'

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling (thank goodness she's kind enough to let us amuse ourselves by writing fanfics)

A/N: Yay… I updated… I know a lot of you (make that all of you readers) are shaking your head at me, but yay nonetheless. I hope you like this chappie. I've done an outline for the sequencing of this chapter but it all just got longer than I expected so the sequence has been split into two chapters (in case any of you are gnashing your teeth at the "cliff-hanger"). So stay tuned for more H/D (and co) action. A lot of my reviewers have asked for more H/D and I really hope I've gone someway to satisfy this craving. Keep in mind that D did just randomly disappear AND the fact that Hermione has a fiancé, so I couldn't have her simply running back to D. Anyway, enough of my dithering. Enjoy, be merry and don't feel shy about reviewing (wink wink) I thrive on constructive criticism. hObYtLaH ;0)