AN: Happy Thursday, darlings! I don't know why, but I woke up in a fantastic mood this morning. I loved reading all of your reviews this week! Poor Draco, poor Hermione. Blaise really did have good intentions (I think). But time to handle the fallout! I hope you all have an amazing week, stay safe out there, and I'll see you again next week!

-..-

Hermione packed a bag blindly. Tears clouded her vision and glitter fell down on her clothes as she shoved them into her overnight bag. Her throat ached and tightened as she clenched her jaw to try and keep from crying. The weight of her mortification was causing her shoulders to sag, and it seemed like the only thing her mind was capable of doing was replaying the horrifying incident on a ceaseless loop.

Doves. The damned fool had charmed doves, and glitter, and rose petals, and everything else that Hermione could have possibly hated. And she had been in the middle of the Ministry of Magic, of all places.

A wordless cry of frustration escaped her lips as she threw a pair of jeans in the general direction of her bag.

She was a fool. A fool for believing Draco Malfoy had actually been sincere, that he would care enough to get to know her, to get to know the things she liked and disliked. If he had cared to have a single conversation with her, she could have told him she had allergies, and dentist parents, and a severe aversion to public displays of lunacy.

Her breathing was ragged, but she couldn't force herself to calm down. Thoughts traveling a mile a minute, Hermione shoved the rest of her toiletries into her bag. She cast her usual stream of locking and protection charms on her flat and checked to make sure she had everything she needed. With a steadying breath, Hermione apparated to the one place she knew she could find peace and quiet.

Just the fresh air of the quiet muggle street was enough to calm her erratic heartbeat. She checked to make sure there was no one to observe her sudden appearance and swiftly crossed the street. Overnight bag slung over her shoulder, Hermione allowed herself a small smile as the door bell announced her presence throughout White Wolf Designs as she pushed in the front door. The smell of incense filled her senses and brought a sensation she hadn't felt in a long time. She was home.

"Hermione!" A flash of yellow appearing from Hermione's right was the only warning she got before she was body slammed and brought to the floor.

Wheezing with laughter, Hermione wrapped her arms around her assailant. "Miranda! How are you?"

The so-named Miranda popped her head up and sent Hermione a dazzling smile. "I've been wonderful. But oh how I've missed you, darling!" She stood and offered Hermione a hand, allowing the witch to get a good look at her friend.

Miranda was a small woman standing at only 5'1", but what she lacked in height she more than made up for in personality. She was sporting a vibrant yellow tank top that perfectly fit her sunny disposition. Tattooed arms on display, the colorful ink designs offset her mocha skin beautifully. After Hermione stood upright again, Miranda held her at arms length and gave her a once over.

"Hermione, you are practically glowing! Shop ownership looks good on you." Miranda winked and pulled Hermione in for a hug. "White Wolf has been far too quiet without you, though. How long are you here for?"

Hermione returned the hug gratefully. "I haven't really decided yet. I sort of left on a whim; just needed to clear my head for a bit."

Miranda gave her a skeptical look that promised future interrogation on the subject. "Heartbreak or stress?"

"Heartbreak is a bit of a strong word," Hermione answered tentatively knowing how protective Miranda could be.

"I'll kill him for you."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

"They'll never find the body."

"Mo, honestly."

"Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. You know my guest room is always ready for you if you need an escape. And if you do end up needing my services, just let me know. I know a guy." The smile Miranda gave her made Hermione wonder if she did in fact know a guy.

Hermione smiled appreciatively. "You're the most wonderful friend, Miranda. What would I do without you?"

"You'd be a lonely secretary at some boring, colorless business firm in the middle of nowhere dying from the lack of excitement in your life."

Joy filling her heart, Hermione laughed along with Miranda at the truth of the statement. Not for the first time she wished Miranda were a witch so they could see each other more often. The division between the muggle and wizarding worlds was one Hermione seemed destined to struggle with. Not allowing herself to dwell on the thought, Hermione asked, "Is Jacob in?"

Before Miranda could answer the door to the back office opened, and Hermione smiled.

"Hello, Jacob."

—..—

Draco was growing very tired of standing on doorsteps ready to apologize. Granted, this time was hardly his fault, but he still felt the need to beg for her forgiveness. He had missed whatever horrors Blaise had planned and only witnessed their aftermath, but even that had been enough to fill him with overwhelming dread and leave a bad taste in his mouth. The look Hermione had given him before she left…

He would apologize to Hermione and then find and eviscerate Blaise.

When he arrived at Virago's storefront, he was surprised to find all the store lights were off and the sign in the window read "Closed". Draco's brow furrowed as he cast a tempus charm and confirmed that the shop should have been open by now.

"Good morning, Draco."

Glancing to his side, Draco flashed a smile at the pair of witches approaching him. "Luna, Weasley, good morning."

"Were you waiting for us?" Ginny strode to the front of the shop and tossed him a smirk over her shoulder as she unlocked the door. "You shouldn't have."

Draco opened his mouth to say something snide but was cut off by Luna. "Hush, Gin. He's obviously here to see Hermione."

His instinct told him to deny it, but he was sure that Hermione had already told her friends what had happened. Draco nodded and said, "I was hoping to stop in before she had any appointments so I could speak with her."

Ginny motioned for him to follow her into the shop as she bustled around to open for the day. "Unfortunately for you, our favorite artist is off on a sabbatical."

Draco leaned against the front desk so he could stay out of her way while Luna wandered into the back of the store while mumbling something about a nargel infestation in the office.

"What do you mean sabbatical?"

"She's taking a break," Ginny yelled from one of the other rooms she had gone into. "Got an owl last night asking me to run the shop for the next few days, field appointments, reschedule until she comes back."

"Back from where," he all but demanded.

Ginny stepped back into the room with a fierce frown on her face. "From wherever she pleases. Some arsehole publicly humiliated her, so she decided to take a vacation."

Draco felt his heart clench and his stomach churn with regret. "I tried to stop it," he said quietly. "It was Blaise, and I…"

"Oh, I'm sure." Ginny gave him a look that was so similar to Pansy's 'I'm disappointed in you' look that it caused a shiver to run down his spine. "I'm sure you had every intention of learning what she liked, how to properly romance her, and this was all just a misunderstanding. But you didn't. And now my best friend is hurting, and the one who hurt her is standing before me entirely defenseless."

Draco became acutely aware of the space, or lack there of, between himself and the most notorious temper in all his years at Hogwarts. Weighing his odds of winning a fight against the Ginevra Weasley and finding them less than desirable, he held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Weasley, I promise, hurting her was the last thing I wanted to do."

Ginny barked a laugh and thumped his chest with her fist. "Calm down, Malfoy, I'm not going to hurt you. That's for Hermione to do. I'm sure you didn't intend to hurt her, but the matter still stands that you did. You'll have to make amends with her somehow, and that's for you to sort out on your own."

Releasing a small breath of relief and rubbing lightly at the spot she had punched, Draco smiled at Ginny. "Thank you. Any advice for a dead man walking?"

"Run."

The serious expression on Ginny's face and cold tone of her voice caused Draco's blood to turn to ice. His complexion turned impossibly pale as his mind scrambled for purchase.

"You're scaring him, Ginevra." Draco jumped at Luna's sudden reappearance behind him and sent her a pleading look.

Ginny laughed again at the few moments of terror she had managed to inflict. "Merlin, Draco, you make it too easy!"

Draco rolled his eyes at her and huffed. "This is why I can't be friends with you Weasleys. You try my nearly nonexistent patience."

"It's a true gift." Ginny winked and sauntered off behind the counter.

Taking pity on the poor man, Luna finally offered an explanation. "Hermione has returned to her pack."

He frowned. "Her pack?"

"The White Wolf became her home after the War, her place of healing and rebuilding, especially after familial tragedies. You can find her there."

Draco stared at her, uncomprehending. "Pack?" He shook his head and asked, "What White Wolf? I'm lost, Luna."

Luna patted him on the arm and said, "Let's go to brunch. I'll explain more over tea."

They both walked down to Black Dragon Brews together and snagged their usual table by the fireplace. Luna ordered her usual earl grey tea with a dash of cream and comfort and a sweet honey scone. Draco stared blankly at the menu and tried to decide what he needed for the day.

"A black coffee with a dash of hope?" The waitress smiled kindly at him, a dicta-quill poised and ready over her shoulder.

"Chai tea with clarity, please."

The waitress nodded as though this were an excellent choice and left to get their drinks.

"You didn't order your usual," Luna said. She was looking at him thoughtfully, as though she already knew why but wanted him to say it.

Draco resisted the urge to fidget. "Hope is always nice, but clarity will be a bit more helpful today."

Luna hummed but said nothing. Her eyes roamed the room, observing the people sitting around them and carefully avoiding the question burning inside Draco.

"The White Wolf," he blurted. "What is it?"

Her smile was sweet, but he could see the underlying mischief. "The White Wolf is in the muggle world. It holds her second family."

"Her second family?" He wanted to ask what had happened to her first, but he knew that was a question better saved for Hermione herself.

"The alpha," Luna said. Her voice took on a serious tone he had never heard her use before. "He became her family when she lost everything and fled. But the beta is the one that saved her, the one you should be wary of."

Draco stared at the witch with a baffled expression. Alphas and betas? "Is she with werewolves?" He all but shouted the question, awareness of the crowd around them being the only thing keeping his voice at an acceptable level. The thought of Hermione with werewolves terrified him after having seen the damage they had done during the Battle. "Hermione is with werewolves?"

Luna cocked her head to the side, not phased by the fear in his voice. "Of course not. She is with her old mentor, Jacob."

The only sign Draco had heard her was the faintest twitch of his right eye. He looked lost, like his brain had halted mid-thought and left him stalling. Luna resisted the urge to smile as she watched his mind finally grasp onto what she had said and panic. Draco had spent far too much time relying on other people and needed to learn to trust himself, trust his own instincts and abilities. The fastest way to do that, in her opinion, was to unleash his competitive side.

"Who's Jacob," he asked with deceptive calm.

"The muggle that gave Hermione her first tattoo. He taught her everything she knows and helped her heal after the battle." Luna accepted her tea from the waitress with a smile and murmured thanks, and she grinned into her tea cup as she watched Draco lose himself in his thoughts.

A small frown was working its way into the crease of his brows.

"I haven't met him, but Hermione has wonderful things to say about him." More fuel on the fire. She could see the fire sparking in his eyes, so she added, "She talks about him all the time; I'm surprised she never mentioned him."

"Where?"

Luna hid her triumphant grin behind another sip of tea. "Where what?"

Draco took a slow sip of his tea. It was taking most of his self-control not to shake the answers out of Luna. "Where is she?"

"If you promise to behave," she said, even though she hoped he wouldn't, "I can apparate you there. Hermione took me once."

Despite the still steaming contents, Draco drained the rest of his tea cup and stood from his chair.

"Oh," Luna said with wide eyes. "You mean now?"

Draco nodded stiffly. He could feel some sort of territorial rage building inside him, one he wasn't entitled to feel but it lurked there in the darkness inside him. "Now, please."

Luna set a few coins on the table, promising herself Draco would pay next time, and followed him out of the coffee shop. They apparated to the alley across the street from White Wolf Designs. She kept her arm linked through his as she studied the small building.

"Luna?"

"Are you sure?" She looked up at him, her eyes measuring and uncertain. "Are you sure you don't want to give her a few days?"

Draco sighed. "She didn't appreciate me waiting to apologize last time, and I'm not a patient man. I want to speak with her, need to speak with her."

Luna nodded and tried to smile reassuringly at him. "Just remember," she said softly, "the lip is less painful than the nose. Try not to be too impulsive."

He blinked at her several times and filed her warning - or advice? - away for later analysis. "Thank you, Luna."

"Don't thank me until after you've spoken with her," she said with a wink.

Draco shook his head as she apparated away. Luna and her vague warnings. So foreboding, he thought with a fond smile. He shoved his hands in his pockets so he could ignore the tremor in his fingers.

The street was quiet. There were no muggles anywhere in sight, and yet he remained hidden by the shadows of the alley. He watched the shop across the street for several moments, unsure of what he was looking for. No one came or went, the curtains over the windows remained drawn, and for all intents and purposes the place looked closed.

He took a step forward towards the possibly empty shop, but as his weight landed on his heel, he turned and apparated away.

His breath left him in a weary sigh as he walked up the cobblestone path to the sprawling French villa. The pale walls glowed in the afternoon sun, and the tall trees swayed gently in the ocean breeze. The sharp clip of his steps against the path made him feel almost guilty for disrupting the peaceful quiet.

Draco knocked exactly once on the door before it popped open.

"Draco," Narcissa Malfoy said with a gentle smile, "what a pleasant surprise."

"Mother." He stepped into the foyer and hugged his mother. "I apologize for not visiting sooner."

"As you should. Come," she said and rested her hand on his forearm, "tell me why you look so lost."

Draco told her everything as they made their way onto the veranda and waited for a house elf to bring them tea. From the tattoos to Hermione's new shop to the fiasco that caused her to run away. He told her everything except his visit with his father. Lucius' arrest and fractures personality had left his Mother a mere shadow of herself. Now that Narcissa was finally regaining her former strength, he wasn't willing to risk upsetting her.

"Your first mistake was not speaking with me first."

Draco sighed and leaned his forehead against his clasped hands. "My sincerest apologies." He could feel a headache coming on. "I didn't realize I was supposed to come to you for romantic advice, Mother."

Narcissa raised her brows skeptically and asked, "Do you honestly think your father was the one to take the lead in that aspect of our relationship?"

"No, I try not to consider your relationship at all if I can help it."

"Maybe you should have considered it before you failed so miserably that she ran away."

Draco lifted his head from his hands and frowned at her. "Don't you think that's a little harsh?"

"On the contrary." Narcissa carefully poured herself a cup of tea seemingly oblivious to her son's bruised ego. "I would almost think you hadn't considered the young witch at all before coming up with your hair-brained schemes. It would appear as if you ran into the situation blindly and treated her like one of those faceless witches you ran through in school. But that's absurd because I raised you better, did I not, Draco?"

Looking properly chastised, Draco accepted a cup of tea from her and offered her the small tray of milk and sugar. "I did try to consider her, but I was caught up in all the ideas Blaise and Pansy were coming up with."

"Draco," she interrupted sternly. "Why would you take advice of any kind from those two? They are hardly experienced when it comes to taking relationships seriously."

"They are my friends, Mother."

"They are children, and their ideas are only ever halfway thought through at the best of times."

"Pansy had decent suggestions," he mumbled.

"Dearest Theodore should have been the one you went to for advice," she argued. "He is the only on between the four of you that thinks things through."

Draco rolled his eyes even though he knew Narcissa would scold him for it. "Theo has hardly any experience in the realm of romance. Therefore, he was my last choice."

"And yet." Narcissa eyed him over the rim of her tea cup with a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "Here we are."

"Here we are," he agreed miserably.

They sat in silence for a while, silently sipping their tea. Draco glanced at Narcissa several times, but she gave nothing away and pointedly ignored his gaze. She was looking out at the garden around them and appeared to be taking in the beauty of the fully blooming plants around them.

Finally, he caved. "Will you help me, please?"

The smile Narcissa gave him was warm, and he could see the myriad of ideas already swirling through her mind. "I thought you would never ask." She set down her tea cup and daintily wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

Draco leaned forward in his seat, anticipating whatever great scheme his mother had managed to cook up.

"Invite her to dinner."

"You want me to ask her to dinner?" Draco asked slowly, his disbelief written clearly on his face. He slowly leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "Mother, did you not listen to a single thing I was saying?"

"Do not take that tone with me, Draco. I can hear you just fine." Narcissa rose from the tea table and waited for her son to join her, lightly taking his arm as he led her through the garden. "A quiet dinner in that shoe box you call a home will be a good starting place for the both of you. No outside interference, no bad memories attached, just the two of you together."

Ignoring the insult towards his living conditions, Draco protested, "After everything that has happened, she won't agree to it."

"Who?"

"You know exactly who."

"Say her name," Narcissa said sternly. "If you have any hope of gaining her forgiveness and affections, you must be able to say her name."

Draco swallowed thickly, eyes fixed on their feet as they walked. "Hermione," he whispered. "Her name is Hermione."

Narcissa stopped walking and gently grasped his chin to turn his face towards hers. When his eyes met hers, she smiled at him and stroked her thumb against his chin. "My sweet son. You have a heart that is so good and so precious; the woman you give it to will be receiving the greatest gift in the world. When you apologize, and you will have to apologize, do not forget your own worth. Admit you were wrong, but do not lose sight of incredible man you have become. Because that is who she should fall in love with. Not the boy who fought in a War that wasn't his, not the man who hides behind paperwork and drinking, but the man who defended his home and his family with more honor than his father could ever dream of having." She blinked back against the tears beginning to gather and whispered fiercely, "You are my son, and I will always be here for you."

Draco cleared his throat and blinked back the tears that may or may not have been building behind his eyes.

"Now then," Narcissa said without any signs of the emotional moment that had just passed between them. "Tell me what you plan on cooking for her."

They walked slowly through the garden, talking about Draco's sub par cooking abilities and the latest gossip amongst Narcissa's friends. He realized he should have come to visit his mother sooner. She always had a way of calming the storm inside him, of helping him find the right perspective and logical solutions. He missed having her in England, but she had recovered so well in France that he didn't dare ask her to return until she was ready.

When they found their way back to the veranda, Narcissa asked, "Do you plan on seeing Hermione today?"

"No," he said and shook his head. "Not today. She needs space, that's why she left. Let her have a few days to herself, and then I will go find her."

Narcissa nodded approvingly. "There may be hope for you yet."