Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters

Surely enough on Monday morning the front page of the Daily Prophet featured a full color picture of Hermione and Ron with a large x through it. The article gave all the details, though nobody seemed to know how the paper had gotten them. In his office Draco sipped his coffee as he slowly read through the article.

Across town Hermione sat with one of her patients and contemplated Draco Malfoy. A year into the war he had walked into headquarters tossed a ream of papers onto the table and simply told them to finish it. As the months went by he passed them more information but very rarely involved himself any further. The day Voldemort was destroyed he had been there, but he had done little other than fight people off. The next day he had taken what he needed and disappeared. No one had seen him since. Hermione still couldn't figure out how he'd managed not to be seen for five years, but that didn't really matter in the long run. He was back now, and he seemed a changed man. Yes the sarcasm and that smirk were still there, but now he was funny and charming where he once had been cruel and off putting. As her patient woke with a cry Hermione shook herself from her thoughts and went about her work.

At the end of the day Hermione walked with Harry to his flat. She was staying there until she and Ron sorted out their flat.

"All I'm saying is that you may have broken it off too quickly," Harry said.

"Harry, I know you're in an awkward position seeing as Ron is one of your best friends, but the man was living in the stone-age. He wanted things that I simply couldn't live with and I did what I needed to do, for myself."

Harry shook his head and sighed. "I know Hermione; I just wish it could have worked out differently."

"I know Harry, but this is the way it has to be."

Hermione stopped to look at something in the window and before she knew it she was careening into someone on the street. She swore as she hit the ground.

"Excuse moi, damn, I mean excuse me. I wasn't paying attention."

Hermione looked up and realized the hand she was being offered was attached to Draco.

"Hello Draco, its fine." She took the offered hand and allowed him to help her up.

"Well if it isn't Harry Potter, la garcon qui a vecu," Draco drawled.

"Harry, I'm sure you remember Draco Malfoy."

"How could I forget?" Harry said wryly as he shook Draco's hand. "Welcome back, Hermione tells me you've been in Paris."

"Oui, I mean yes. When you speak French for five years straight it's difficult to get out of the habit."

"I imagine so. It seems Hermione was right, you seem to have changed a great deal Malfoy."

Draco shrugged. "I simply saw the error of my ways. The old me is still here, just toned down I suppose."

"I suppose," Harry said wearily.

Draco's mobile began to ring and he sighed. "Excuse me you two." He put the phone to his ear. "Malfoy. Oui. Non, non absolument pas. Jen e soigné pas de la difference de prix, j'ai demande le satin pas en polyester. Cet home est-il idiot? Il ne sait pas la difference entre le satin de qualite superieure et le polyester de sourcil bas? Non, non, non si j'ai voulu le polyester j'irais a un magasin d'economie et recycle les vieux process de loisir! Excuse Moi? Qui est le patron? Oui, cela est correct, je suis. Maintenant m'obtenir le satin!" Draco slammed the phone shut quite violently. " Stupide, ennuyer, ridicule, vaciller wanker!"

"Well I understood that last part," Harry whispered to Hermione as Draco opened the phone again and babbled in French. When the call was finished he turned back to them.

"I'm sorry, a bit of a mix up with some fabric for Blaise's latest creation, but that's all taken care of. Anyway, I was sorry to see the story on the front page this morning."

Hermione sighed. "It's really alright. We both knew from the start that's what would happen."

"Hermione I'll be back in a minute, I want to look at something in the bookstore."

Harry left the two of them alone and Draco took the spare moment for all it was worth.

"Have dinner with me Hermione," he requested quietly.

"Why?"

"Would you like the honest answer or the smooth answer?"

She smiled at him. "The honest answer."

He reached out and brushed a lock of hair from her face and felt a little thrill of triumph when her skin heated at the touch. "You intrigue me, probably more than you should."

"That certainly is honest. The truth is that you fascinate me as well. I'd love to, but I don't know. It's only been a couple of days."

"Come to my place tomorrow night. I'll cook, and that way no one will see you and make a fuss."

"That sounds wonderful, shall we say around seven then?

"See you then."

Hermione went to find Harry and Draco headed for home.

The next night Hermione found herself sitting through a lecture from Harry as she prepared for dinner with Draco.

"I'm just saying that you should be careful Hermione. This is Draco Malfoy we're talking about. He's only been back for a week and this whole happy Frenchman thing could be an act."

"And what, pray tell would he gain from said act when it comes to me?" Hermione asked as she swept on mascara. Harry simply raised an eyebrow. "Have a little faith in me Harry. I'm not going to jump into bed with him on the first date."

"So this won't be the last date then?" he asked with a frown.

"Not if I have my way." She turned from the mirror and patted her best friend on the shoulder. "I'm attracted to him Harry, he's attracted to me, and that's all there is to it. I'll be careful though, just to make you happy."

Harry forced down a smile. "Fine, go have a good time."

"Thanks dad," Hermione said with a grin. "Tell Ginny I say hi."

When Draco opened the door to his apartment he had that jaw dropping problem again. Hermione was dressed simply in a pair of jeans, fitted sweater and ballet flats, but something about the combination was striking. Just the wild hair falling loose around her shoulders had him itching to touch.

"Bonjour." He frowned. "Sorry, hello."

"Don't worry about it. You must be accustomed to speaking French, and I know a little, enough to probably gather if you slip up." She heard him shut the door behind her and settled at the kitchen island. "What's for dinner?"

"Hungry?" He walked past her and into the kitchen. "We're having Fettuccini Alfredo."

Draco handed her a glass of red wine and she tasted it experimentally. "Where did you learn how to cook?"

"In Paris, Blaise and I shared a studio apartment and the man can't cook worth a damn."

"Well I suppose that's a good a reason as any to learn to cook. Self preservation is a strong motivator."

"Exactly." He turned and held out the spoon. "Taste this."

Hermione let him feed her a bit of the sauce and groaned. "That's fabulous, when you learn how to do something you certainly learn how to do it right."

He smiled and turned back to the pots on the stove. "I'm glad you like it because it's ready. Grab the wine and head over to the table, I'll get everything else."

As promised, soon after she sat down Draco delivered the pasta along with sautéed green beans and garlic bread. Hermione didn't talk much through the meal, it was too fabulous. When she finished she sipped her wine and studied Draco.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm just trying to figure you out. It's hard to know what to make of you after all this change and all these years."

"I don't know what to tell you, honestly. I am what I am and that's all. I still have a bad temper, I'm just as sarcastic as ever, I'm still a Malfoy, I've just grown up."

She shook her head. "I know, it's still just so hard to grasp."

He picked up their plates and dropped them in the sink before returning to the table. "I understand. I was always the big bad Slytherin. It's hard to forget the persona."

Hermione laughed and went to look at the night view from his sky high apartment. "If you want to know the truth I always wished I was a Slytherin. Being the good little Gryffindor got old pretty quick. I always wanted to know what it was like to be the bad girl Slytherin."

"You wouldn't have been all that great at it," Draco said as he took a seat on the couch. "The lying and cheating and clandestine affairs would have gotten to you, it got to almost all of us."

Something in his tone of voice made Hermione turn from the window. "I never asked why you helped us."

He took a deep breath before answering, but his voice shook as he did. "After what happened with Dumbledore I thought I'd written my own death sentence, even though it wasn't my wand that killed him. I never wanted to do it, but my mother and the rest of my family were in danger. When Severus killed him I knew that even though I hadn't struck the fatal blow it was essentially my fault. We ran, and it took me a long time to be convinced that I should go to the Order. When Voldemort killed my mother and father it was the last straw. I pretended to be a loyal follower and leaked everything I knew to the Order."

"You've no idea how much you helped Draco," Hermione said as she sat down beside him.

"Probably not. I tried not to think about it. I felt guilty for betraying everything I'd been taught all my life. So Blaise and I went to Paris. I avoided being seen and dove into work. Somewhere in the process I managed to fix myself, and here I am."

"You've been through so much; it's unbelievable that you came out of it all unscathed."

He gave her a sad smile. "Not completely unscathed. There will always be scars, but I've moved on with my life. I'm successful and happy, and I'm having dinner with a beautiful woman. Life is good at the moment."

"I see your point. Do we get dessert?" she asked with a wicked smile.

"Oui madame, éclairs."

Hermione laughed. "Are these homemade too?"

"I'm not that ambitious, they're from the bakery down the street," he said with a laugh as he returned from the kitchen with two of the decadent desserts.

Hermione gladly accepted hers and turned to look out the window again. "I just can't get over the view, it's so beautiful."

"It's a large part of why I chose the flat. Of course I've been raised to expect the best so that had a great deal to do with it, but the view was what sealed the deal." He joined her at the window and sighed. "As much as I loved Paris, England has always been my home. I couldn't wait to get back here."

"I know what you mean. Despite all the faults that go with any place I don't know that I could ever leave here."

He smiled. "You've neglected the éclair you wanted so badly."

She laughed. "So I have." She took a bite and the cream went everywhere. " Oh and now I've made a mess of myself."

Draco tried to stifle a laugh as he retrieved a kitchen towel. Hermione cleaned her face and hands as best she could.

"You missed a little, just here…" He brushed his hand over his own cheek. Hermione brushed her hand in the same place but couldn't seem to find it. "Here."

Draco reached out and brushed the cream from her cheek and Hermione couldn't stop the shiver that ran through her. She had a moment to register his eyes darkening before his mouth was on hers. Almost of their own will Hermione's arms were around his neck. His hands fisted in her hair as he deepened the kiss. They broke apart gasping for breath.

"Now I've gotten the cream in your hair," Draco said quietly.

"It'll come out," she replied, damning her voice for shaking. "I should go, it's getting late." She turned towards the door and he caught her hand.

"Don't regret it Hermione."

"I don't regret it, and I won't. I'm not sure I trust myself and I made a promise."

He nodded as she opened the door. "Just one thing." She turned back as he crossed to her. He bent and captured her mouth once again. He stepped back from her and her eyes fluttered open. "Just to make sure you don't forget."

Author's Sidebar: Just for your information the general gist of Draco's mobile conversation is that he wanted satin and some idiot wanted to get polyester because it's cheaper. Draco makes it clear that he wants high quality satin not low brow polyester and that he's the boss. He then proceeds to call the man all sorts of names. Of course this is all loosely translated using an online translating service so forgive me if you're fluent and it's not right.

Draco also calls Harry The Boy Who Lived towards the beginning of the chapter. If you have any other questions I'd be happy to answer them as best I can.