Draco woke to find the sun beaming through his bedroom window. When he rolled over he was unsurprised, yet still irked, to find his bed empty. With a growl, he fell onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He wasn't so much upset with Hermione as he was with himself for caring about her leaving every morning.

She had been right the other day about him being the one that always does the leaving. He never brought women back to his flat. He had learned that lesson the first time. He had to all but shove the nosey witch out of his flat. After that, Draco always let women do the inviting and he soon was able to suss which ones couldn't care less where he went the next day, and which ones would be overly clingy come sunrise. For the latter, he'd feign sleep and sneak out as soon as possible.

Why were things different with Hermione Granger? Simple, he told himself. She didn't have a flat to take him back to. And while he truly didn't care that Harry and Ginny knew about them sleeping together, he wasn't too keen to shag her when their best friends were in the next room.

While he was trying to make up an excuse for why he hated that she snuck out on him, he heard the front door open and then click shut. Draco bolted out of bed, threw on his boxers, grabbed his wand, and dashed out of the bedroom. He almost ran straight into Hermione, who holding a paper bag and coffee carrier.

"What are you doing here?" he asked quickly, lowering his wand.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and muttered, "I can't fucking win with you, can I?", before striding off to the kitchen.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, following at her heels.

She gave an irritated huff and tossed the bag on the table. "You want me to stick around in the morning, this is what me sticking around looks like- breakfast." And she pushed a cup of coffee into his hands. "I was going to cook something, but you have fuck all in, so I went to the shop across the street and got bagels. I wasn't sure how you like your coffee, so there's cream and sugar in the bag if you need it."

"Oh," Draco replied guiltily. He peeked into the bag and pulled out two packs of sugar and a poppy seed bagel. "Thank you. I usually don't eat breakfast."

"That's stupid," Hermione said, settling into a seat and smearing a glob of cream cheese onto an everything bagel. "Breakfast is the best. Pancakes, waffles, crepes, bacon…"

"Fair enough, but that requires cooking." He spread a thin layer of cream cheese onto his own bagel and took a bite. "I can't cook."

"Can't or don't? I hear there's a big difference."

"Can't. As inept as Potter in that skill set. If it's not toast or cereal, I don't bother."

"Then what do you do for food?"

"Mostly pubs or take-out. Ginny invites me over for dinner once a week usually, and sometimes my mother insists on me coming over for a meal." Hermione looked at him as though he had two heads. "We can't all be gourmet cooks, Granger. Put me in a potions lab and I'm good, but I have no idea what to do with a chicken."

"Pretty sure if you can concoct potions you could cook something." Hermione sipped her coffee and relaxed back into the chair.

They sat together in silence, each making their way through a second bagel. Draco wasn't sure what else to say. He wasn't great at small talk and it almost felt like he was forcing his company on Hermione. As much as he hated to admit it, it was nice that she hadn't slunk away during the early hours, but now he felt guilty for turning it into such a petty issue.

With a heavy sigh, Draco broke the silence. "If you want to leave, you can. Sorry I made such a big deal out of it the other times. You don't have to stick around if you'd rather ditch the scene."

Hermione didn't answer right away. She watched him, unblinking, until he grew uncomfortable and looked down at his empty coffee cup.

"Do you always have to have such control over everything?" she finally asked.

Draco let out a morose laugh and said, "That's a bit hypocritical isn't it? If I remember correctly, you've never been the laid back, go with the flow type."

"I've since been hit with the harsh reality that there are a million things that are beyond my control." She stood up and tossed her cup into the trash bin. "I liked sticking around today. It was nice to sleep in and not have to try and go all Mission Impossible getting out the door." Draco gave her a blank look, not understanding her reference. "Nevermind, Muggle thing."

"Right." Draco stood and started clearing the rest of the trash. "Big plans for the day?"

"Eh, nothing too exciting. I'm going to go visit my parents and then go over plans for Friday's hen night. I can't believe this wedding is just over a week away." She waved her wand over the table, siphoning up the crumbs. "This trip feels like it's going by so quickly."

"Won't be long and you'll be back when mini Potter comes along."

"Yeah, I'll be back for the baby," Hermione said, her face falling slightly.

"And that's a good thing, right?"

"Of course. How can a new baby be bad?" She summoned her purse and started for the door. "I'm going to head out, so I can grab a quick shower. See you tomorrow night."

"See ya," Draco called, as the door closed behind her.

He sat back in his chair and covered his face with his hands. What was his problem? This girl wasn't any different from the others, so why was he letting her into his life like this? Why was he encouraging her to stick around? Loud knocking interrupted his musings.

"Use your bloody key!" Draco yelled. A second knock sounded and Draco groaned. He pulled himself out of the chair and stalked to the door. "I gave you a key for a reason, you daffy-"

He wrenched the door open and stopped mid sentence when he saw his mother on the other side.

"You have yet to give me a key, darling," Narcissa Malfoy greeted. She kissed his cheek and then breezed past him, making her way to the kitchen. "Who, pray tell, have you given a key to?" she asked, as she put the kettle on the stove.

"I've never given you a key because you always use the floo," Draco said, avoiding her question. "You know I don't have any tea here except that chamomile shit you gave me."

"Language," she scolded, pulling mugs from the cupboard and a tin of tea bags from her purse. "I'm quite aware of what your kitchen lacks. I've brought my own this time."

"What are you doing here so early, Mother?" Draco asked, summoning a t-shirt from the bedroom.

"I was in the area, doing some shopping, and thought I would drop in to visit my favorite son. What has you so surly today? Or surlier than usual, I should say."

Draco rolled his eyes at his mother's back as she heated the kettle, instantly bringing it to a boil, and pouring out two cups. She placed the tea on the table and conjured up a little carrier of cream and sugar cubes. "It's been a weird morning. Since when do you make your own tea?" he asked, sitting down in front of a cup and dropping two cubes of sugar into it.

"For heaven's sake, Draco. I'm almost fifty years old. You don't think I'm capable of brewing a simple cup of tea?" Draco started to open his mouth to reply, but Narcissa held up her hand. "Nevermind. I don't want to hear whatever smart arse retort you have ready." She added a generous amount of cream to her cup and one sugar cube. "Now, your morning has been weird. How so, dear?"

"Just a minor female problem," Draco answered, sipping his tea.

"You gave your key to a girl?" His mother's eyes lit up. "Who is she? How did you meet? When's the wedding?" Draco glared and Narcissa immediately apologized. "Sorry, that last one slipped out. I'm just so happy you're actually dating again, instead of shagging anything that bats her eyes at you."

"I am not dating anyone. The key symbolizes nothing more than convenience."

"How many times then?"

"Mother…" Draco sighed and shook his head. "Three. I've been with her three times now."

"And are you planning on seeing her again?"

"Well, yeah, she's part of the wedding so it's hard to avoid her."

"Who is it? Someone you went to school with?" Narcissa pressed.

"If you must know every detail, it's Hermione Granger. Would you like to know exactly what I do to her also?"

Pretending she didn't hear the last question, Narcissa asked, with a thoughtful look, "Granger….the name sounds familiar. Have I met her before?"

"Well, Aunt Bellatrix did torture her in the middle of our formal dining room. You may remember her from that?" Draco answered, pushing his cup away.

"Dammit Draco, do you have to be so callous about these things?"

"It's better than pussy footing around the subject, pretending it never happened!" Draco cried. "Sorry, but I like to speak the truth rather than spare feelings. Like father, like son."

"Leave your father out of this."

"I prefer to leave Lucious out of most of my life." Narcissa pursed her lips and fell silent as Draco stared at her. After a minute's silence, Draco relaxed back into his chair and said, "So, to answer your question, yes, you have met her before. But no, we're not dating, just-"

"I get the point, Draco," she interrupted, quickly standing and taking her mug to the sink. "You know, it isn't your fault, what happened with-"

"Mother, please. She's the last person I want to talk about. This has nothing to do with her."

"But it's all because of her- the sleeping around, not letting anyone get close You're sabotaging your own happiness, darling, and it hurts to watch you do so."

Draco snorted and shook his head. "Why do you care so much? Does it really matter if I spend the rest of my life shagging every witch in Britain? Cause, to be honest, I'm quite happy with that thought."

"No, you're not," Narcissa said softly, smiling warily. "And I care so much because you're my son. All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy, whether you believe it or not. I would love to see you open up your heart again to a woman, or a man for that matter." Draco rolled his eyes again, but she continued, "Anyone that could help you find that happiness." His mother kissed the top of his head and patted his cheek. "You should come for dinner next week."

"We'll see," Draco muttered, not meeting his mother's eyes.

"I'll send an owl." With that, Narcissa Malfoy made her way to the door and was gone.

"She's wrong," Draco told himself bitterly, as he stalked to the bathroom. "That future sounds fucking fantastic."

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At lunchtime, Hermione apparated to the back garden of her childhood home. Very little had changed since she was a kid. A clothesline ran the length of the yard, along the neighboring fence. Growing up, the line was often filled with an assortment of Hermione's dressup clothes- doctor, princess, astronaut, and various animals. Today white linens flapped lazily in the breeze, wafting their clean scent across the yard.

The thick, old oak tree, that occupied the most space, still hosted her old swing. She loved getting herself up to the highest point and jumping off, pretending that for a few precious seconds she could fly, never imagining that in just a few short years she'd actually be able to. Her obsession with jumping off the swing came to an abrupt end when she was eight, though. She had a particularly nasty landing, resulting in a broken ankle and a summer spent on crutches, with an itchy cast.

On the east side of the house there was a small addition that had been added shortly after Hermione was born. Her parents had it built so that they could open up their own dentistry office, while staying close to home. After having their memories restored, they returned from Australia and reopened the practice as if no time had passed.

Hermione let herself in the back door and found her mom at the counter, arranging a plate of sandwiches.

"Hi, mum," she greeted, kissing her mother on the cheek and stealing a pickle from the condiment tray.

"Hello, darling. How's your day been so far?" Katherine Granger asked. She set the plate on the table and went to the sink to wash up.

"It's been….weird," Hermione sighed, falling into her usual seat at the round kitchen table. It was her favorite seat because it overlooked the back garden and she had a perfect view of her mother's bird feeder. "Where's dad?"

"Finishing up a root canal. He should be finishing up for lunch soon." Her mother set the tray of condiments on the table and motioned for her daughter to help herself. "What's been weird about your morning?" she asked, taking the seat across from Hermione. "Everything okay with Harry and Ginny?"

"Oh yeah, they're fine. Counting down the minutes until the big day." Hermione grabbed a turkey sandwich and started piling on lettuce, pickles, and tomatoes. "I'm just struggling a bit with being back home."

"Ron?"

After a moment's hesitation, Hermione answered, "Part of it's Ron. It's hard for us to be in the same room together and not have it filled with unspoken tension."

"That's understandable. You two didn't part on the greatest of terms."

Hermione pursed her lips, remembering the last night she had seen Ron, before leaving for New York. It had been a surreal evening; they fought, they fucked, they fought some more, and ended with Hermione storming out of the flat with the last of her possessions.

"So, then what's the other part of your dilemma?" Katherine asked, setting a glass of lemonade in front of Hermione.

"It's another guy that I've sort of started hooking up with since I got here."

"Hooking up? As in having sex with?" her mother pressed. The bluntness made Hermione choked on her drink and all she could do was nod. "Then there's no 'sort of' about it, dear. You're either doing it or you're not." She passed a napkin across the table to Hermione.

"Fair point," Hermione rasped, mopping lemonade from her chin.

"You like this boy?"

Hermione refrained from giggling at how primary schoolish that question sounded. Instead, she answered, "That's part of the problem. I don't quite know if I really like him. I mean, I really like what we do together."

"Oh, honey, that's a given," her mother laughed. "How many parts to this problem are there exactly?"

Hermione took a deep breath and launched into her and Draco's mutual past dislike and their various encounters since her arrival back in England. She had always had a great relationship with her mother, but openly talking about her sex life was unexplored territory. Her mother knew she had one, and that was where her knowledge began and ended. But sitting there, in the middle of the kitchen, sharing things she never expected to, it felt almost liberating and helpful in clearing out some of the haziness of the situation. When she had finished, she sat and quietly waited for her mother's response.

"Is this man hurting you?" Katherine asked.

"No!" At least not in a bad way, Hermione thought.

"Is he pressuring you to do something you don't want to?"

"Mum! No, it's not like that."

"I'm just trying to actually figure out what the problem is, Hermione. It's perfectly natural for people to change as they grow out of their teenage years and it seems as though this Draco has been working to make amends for his past. It doesn't sound like he is looking for anything serious, just like you. Your friends have no problem with it." Katherine paused and studied Hermione's face. "Do your feelings of guilt have anything to do with, perchance, how Ron will react if he finds out?"

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but found she couldn't, and instead chewed on her bottom lip. Damn that motherly intuition!

"Ahh, I see. You still care for him."

"Yes, but not in that way!" Hermione defended.

"I never said you were still in love with him, darling. But, you two were friends before anything else. It's natural that you would still care about hurting him."

"Ron and Draco still don't get along with each other," Hermione sighed, picking at the crust of her sandwich. "There's still a few unresolved things between Ron and I, and while I know I shouldn't, part of me feels bad sleeping with a guy I know he hates."

"Are you sleeping with Draco to get back at Ron for something?"

"If I'm being honest, it was part of the motivation the first time. Mainly, though, it's been a way to escape and let my mind focus on something else."

Her mother's face changed from curious to worried, and Hermione braced herself for the next question that she immediately knew she wouldn't truthfully answer.

"What are you trying to escape from?"

"A lot of stressful work stuff," Hermione lied. "I applied for a new position and have been nervous waiting for the reply."

Katherine gave her a scrutinizing look, but didn't press the subject any further. She placed her hand over Hermione's and gave it a squeeze. "Do you want my analysis and advice?"

"Even if I say no, you'll give it to me anyway," Hermione joked, giving her mum a weak smile.

"One day you'll have your own kids and know that the need to parent never goes away, whether they're one or twenty-three." She reached up and smoothed Hermione's hair. "All I want to tell you is go and enjoy yourself, sweetheart! You always get so hung up on what you should be doing or how something is going to look to people on the outside. Fuck what other people think."

"Mum!"

Katherine waved off Hermione's shock and continued, "You have one life, Hermione Jean. Experience all that it has to offer you. What other people think of you doesn't matter, even if you happen to have been married to one of them. Do what makes you happy! It's okay to go after what you want, instead of what's expected of you."

"You sound like Harry and Ginny," Hermione laughed.

"If three people are giving you the same advice, I'd say it's pretty sound."

"You're my mother though. Aren't you supposed to be telling me to only sleep with someone I love?"

Katherine threw her head back and laughed, causing Hermione's eyebrows to ascend into her hair. She hadn't meant for her statement to be funny.

"Oh, sweetheart! Do you think I've loved every man I went to bed with?"

"Yes, because you have only slept with dad and you guys will love each other until the end of time," Hermione asserted.

Another laugh and her mother shook her head. "If that's what makes you sleep better at night, then go ahead and tell yourself that."

"There seems to be only one thing that helps me sleep better at the moment, and it isn't thoughts about my parents' sex life," Hermione grumbled. She took a bite of her sandwich and sunk down in her chair, feeling as though she had opened up a Pandora's box. "Thank you for the affirming talk though, Mum. I know everything you...and Ginny...and Harry….are saying is right. It's just one of those things that's easier said than done for me."

"Can I give you one last nudge in the right direction?" Katherine asked, laying her hand on Hermione's arm.

"Of course."

"Talk to Ron, before you go back to New York. You deserve to put whatever is in your past to rest."

With a defeated smile, Hermione nodded. Before she could say anything else, the door to her parents' dental office swung open and her dad entered, throwing his white coat onto the adjacent hook.

"Ahh, there are my two favorites girls!" Michael Granger called, walking over and planting a kiss on the top of Hermione's head. "What have we been chatting about?"

"Women stuff," Katherine answered, airily. "How was Mrs. Roberts' root canal?"

As her parents started talking about dental intricacies, Hermione let herself zone out and ponder the last minutes of conversation. It was of course inevitable. She did have to talk to Ron, and it'd be preferable to do so before she returned to the States.

As for Draco, she was going to do her best to take her mum and friends' advice and kick her guilt to the curb. She was an adult woman. She had needs, just like everyone else dammit! Why shouldn't she allow casual, meaningless sex to be at the top of her list, if only for a few weeks? Lizzie's voice sounded in the back of her mind, cheering her on.

"What's that goofy grin about?" Michael asked, breaking into Hermione's thoughts.

"Nothing," Hermione laughed. "So, what's for dessert?"