AN: The temptation to call the café "Espresso Patronum" was so real... Anyway, here's another chapter. I hope you all had a wonderful weekend!

-..-

When Hermione finally woke the second time, she wanted to go right back to sleep. Or remove her head from her body, whichever was easiest, because the migraine that she woke up to was absolutely skull-splitting. Groaning and pulling the blankets over her head, Hermione considered staying in bed for the rest of the day, but the growl of her stomach made the kitchen sound a bit more appealing. A hangover potion and breakfast, she decided, was exactly what she needed.

She sat up and tried not to move too quickly. The room around her began to spin, and she closed her eyes until her nausea eased. Merlin, her mouth tasted terrible. Had she eaten an entire box of cotton balls? Shoving her hair out of her face and immediately deciding it was a lost cause. Stripping out of her clothes from the night before, she basked in the feeling of the cool sheets on her feverish skin. She was never letting a drunk Harry plan their outings again. Finally giving in to her appetite, she wrapped the sheet around herself and slid to the edge of the bed. Hermione finally caught sight of the note and flower on the side table.

Draco's romantic side was something that had surprised her. She knew he was a gentleman, he had made that much very clear during the beginning of their relationship, but he was slowly revealing a romantic side to her that she greatly enjoyed seeing. A rose on the nightstand was so at odds with his playboy reputation from Hogwarts, but it made Hermione's heart flutter.

"Such a melt." She smiled and held the rose to her nose as she read over the note he'd left her. It was fairly short, just telling her he had to step out for a meeting and would hopefully be back before she woke up. Setting the rose and note back on the nightstand, Hermione shuffled out of the bedroom in search of breakfast.

She stepped out into the living room and felt a hand touch her shoulder.

"Sweet Morgana!" Hermione scrambled not to drop her sheet and immediately reached for a wand that wasn't there. Spinning around, she found the intruder was none other than a very confused Theo. Smacking his hand away, she shouted, "Fuck's sake, Theo! You scared me half to death!"

Theo tried to look apologetic, but it was difficult when he was laughing so hard. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to startle you."

"How could that not startle me?" She pulled the sheet more securely around her and demanded, "What are you even doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Theo glanced toward the bedroom and smiled knowingly. "But I think we both know the answer to that is pretty obvious."

Hermione glared at him. "And yet, I'm still wondering why you would be in Draco's flat when he's not here."

Theo held up a book she hadn't realized he was holding. "I needed to return a book I borrowed."

"You could have just owled it."

"I could have," Theo slid the book onto the shelf and smiled at her, "if Draco knew I had borrowed it."

Hermione watched him pluck another book from the shelf and shook her head. "Slytherins."

"It's not theft if you return it."

"Sure it's not." Hermione walked into the kitchenette and was disappointed to find there was no coffee nor a coffee maker. "It's a little bold of you to just waltz into his flat without knowing if he was here."

"I knew he wouldn't be." Theo motioned to her disheveled appearance and said, "You lot partied pretty hard last night, so I assumed he would either be out in search of the nearest caffeine source or completely unconscious and dead to the world."

Hermione closed the cabinet she had been digging through and frowned at him. "How do you know we were partying last night?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "You weren't the most discreet group. That many war heroes and celebrities were bound to be noticed." He shrugged. "And I was at the same restaurant last night."

"I didn't even see you there." Hermione felt a bit guilty that she hadn't even thought of inviting Theo to go out with them. If must of shown on her face because he immediately waved her off.

"Don't look at me like that, Hermione. We both know drunk quidditch is far less appealing to me than a quiet night in with a book."

"You and me both," she grumbled. "I'm never doing that again."

Theo smirked at her. "Whatever you say, love."

Having checked every single inch of the kitchen while they were talking, Hermione finally decided there was not a speck of coffee in Draco's flat. She sighed at the thought of having to get dressed, go home, and make coffee there. Maybe she could buy a coffee maker for him? That thought gave her pause. Was she wanting to put a coffee maker in his flat because she was planning on waking up there often enough to need it?

"You'll have to go somewhere else for coffee."

Hermione looked at Theo and said, "Thank you for pointing out the obvious."

"Draco's a coffee snob, so he doesn't even bother trying to make it at home." Theo seemed to debate with himself for several moments before he finally said, "Go get coffee at your usual haunt, and I'll send Draco to meet you whenever he gets home."

She looked surprised that Theo knew of her coffee shop. He wasn't usually in the shop when she went. Did she really go so often that even Theo knew about it? "I could definitely go for a hot cup of coffee right now. My body feels like it got hit by the Hogwarts Express." She chewed on the inside of her cheek. The thought of inviting Draco there made her nervous for some reason, but the call of caffeine was too tempting to resist. "I'll go home and change first. It'll give him a little extra time to get back from his meeting." Theo made himself comfortable in an armchair by the fireplace, and Hermione couldn't help but comment, "Are you planning to wait for him here?"

"Might as well." Theo pulled out the book he'd nicked and flipped it open. "I've got a date with his witch for a peace offering when he gets here."

"Couldn't you just ask to borrow his books?"

Theo gave her a look that showed just how little he liked that idea, and shooed her from the room.

Hermione went back into the bedroom to collect her things, including the rose and note on the bedside table, and apparated to her own flat.

—..—

"So you think my father was using that shadow creature as some sort of messenger?"

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose and grumbled, "I honestly don't know what to think. We aren't even sure what it is, so any ideas on what he was using for are merely speculation."

Draco crossed his arms over his chest and stared off in thought. He'd never heard of a creature like the one Potter was describing. And his father was speaking to it? That meant the creature had some level of intelligence, but that barely narrowed down the list of possibilities. His knowledge on magical creatures was too limited. And what did that have to do with Lucius's goal of reestablishing the old families? His thoughts spun as he tried to figure out how it all pieced together.

"I think the best course of action would be figuring out what the creature is. It was either unable to speak or chose not to, so we weren't able to gather any information from it. Your father was hardly forthcoming with such information; however," Harry pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Draco, "one of our creature experts at the Ministry says there's a woman in Ireland who might be able to help us. She's supposed to be some sort of expert in old magic and, what did she call it? The 'creatures of the forgotten world' or something like that."

"That's a bit dramatic," Draco said as he read the name on the note. "Aoibheann?"

"Yes, apparently she can be difficult to find. There's an old woman named Maeve who is supposed to know where to find her, and she's supposed to be at a pub in London with a white horse hanging on the outside."

Draco gave him a skeptical look.

Harry held his hands up defensively. "I know how it sounds, but that's all they could tell me. The intel I get isn't always the easiest to work with."

"A white horse outside of a pub," Draco said skeptically. "That hardly counts as intel. That's a vague hint at best. This is sounding like some sort of wild goose chase for women who may or may not exist."

"Well, it's all I've got."

Looking entirely unconvinced, Draco asked, "And you think she's our best chance to identify that thing?"

"I do."

Draco sighed and tucked the piece of parchment into his pocket. "Well, Potter, I guess we're going on a pub crawl."

Harry shook his head firmly to the negative. "Not right now, we're not. I'm running on nothing but pepper up potions and two hours of sleep. I need coffee and a shower before we even think about searching for that pub."

Relieved that he wasn't the only one struggling to make it through the morning, Draco nodded in agreement. The sun had barely started to rise outside the office windows. "It would probably be best to wait until the day has fully started. The pub will be easier to find if it's open." His logic sounded flawed even to his own ears, but he refused to admit that he was just as hungover as Potter. "We can meet again this afternoon."

"Excellent." Harry grabbed his coat and motioned for Draco to leave ahead of him. "I'll walk you out."

—..—

"Can I get a large chai tea latte, please?"

The familiar sounds and smells of the True Brews Café brought a warm comfort to Hermione and eased the headache. The shop was located on the same section of Diagon Alley that her tattoo shop was on, so she stopped by almost every morning on her way to open Virago. It was her retreat when she was working on the latest tattoo development or patent; it was a good space for thinking. Most of the baristas knew her by name, as embarrassing as it was, and always made her feel at home when she stopped in.

Accepting her coffee from Holly, Hermione inhaled the wonderful cinnamon scent while making her way over to her table. It was a small circle of stained wood positioned next to one of the windows and gave her the perfect view of the bustling Alley outside. She enjoyed people watching while she worked; it was a great source of inspiration for new designs and drawings. Taking her seat, she sipped her drink and waited for Draco.

When Theo had told him to meet Hermione at a tiny and not very well-known coffee shop, Draco had been completely unsurprised and a little thankful. He'd been miffed to find the man in his flat, lounging like he owned the place, but the prospect of seeing Hermione alleviated his irritation. His hangover was still persisting and the meeting with Potter hadn't helped at all. It would be a pleasant reprieve to sit somewhere quiet and ingest enough caffeine to drown his nausea.

Walking into the True Brews Café was like stepping into the personification of Hermione's personality. Warm, quiet, and peaceful with soft lighting and gentle music; the cozy atmosphere was so fitting. He ordered his drink from the friendly barista and began looking for Hermione among the tables situation next to the windows. Ever the people watcher, she was too predictable for her own good. He took a moment to admire her from afar while waiting for his coffee.

The warm lighting of the café bathed Hermione is a golden light that illuminated her skin. The olive sweater she wore hung off her shoulder allowing just a hint of the swirling colors of her tattoos to peak out. Her curls fell gracefully around her and framed her beautiful face. A faint sprinkle of freckles decorated the bridge of her nose which wrinkled in the most adorable way as she cast silent judgments on the people walking by. Delicate fingers cradled an equally delicate coffee cup that rested gently against her lips. He smiled faintly at the memory of how those lips felt against his and had to look away before his thoughts could run away from him.

Draco accepted his coffee from the woman behind the counter and made his way over to Hermione. He kissed the top of her head gently, a small smile on his face. "Good morning, love."

A light blush colored her cheeks at the endearment. "Good morning, Draco. Did you sleep well?"

"Very," Draco sighed as he sat down in the plush arm chair across from her. "Last night seemed to never end."

"And who's fault was that," she mused. "I distinctly remember someone trying to say the midnight quidditch match was a bad idea."

He smirked at her and said, "That person sounds like a wet blanket."

"Maybe, but they probably could have saved you from your hangover."

"You're just disappointed I didn't win against Potter."

She rolled her eyes at him and sipped at her coffee. "How is your mother?"

Draco ignored her obvious change of subject, just this once. "She's doing well; already planning our Yule festivities of course." He rolled his eyes but there was obvious amusement in his voice. "It's her biggest event of the year, and somehow she gets joy from decorating."

Hermione smiled softly and asked, "Does your family celebrate Yule together?"

"Usually." Draco sipped his coffee and was pleasantly surprised by the quality. It was nothing compared to the place he and Blaise frequented in Italy, but he would definitely have to come back after this. "We spend the morning of as family, but the night before Mother always throws a big party for all of her friends and their families. It's quite the headache if you ask me."

"It sounds like fun," she said wistfully, her eyes holding a far off look.

Draco frowned. He'd seen that same look in her eyes before, but where? An image of Hermione's office desk flitted across his mind. The muggle photograph; Hermione had the same distant look in her eyes when he had asked about it. She looked sad but not overwhelmingly so; as if it was something in the past that still brought her a sense of sadness. What had happened that could cause such sadness to linger?

Hermione delicately cleared her throat. The sadness vanished from her eyes, and if he hadn't already seen it he wouldn't know it had been there. It was so fleeting but deeply unsettled him, as well as the fact that he couldn't seem to find any safe topics of conversation today. He opened his mouth to ask what was bothering her, but she beat him to it.

"Do you have any plans for the rest of your day?"

He raised an eyebrow at her to show her obvious change of subject wasn't missed but responded, "I have a meeting at the ministry later today."

"With Harry?" The question came out innocent enough, but Draco caught the edge to her voice. She probably remembered the patronus from that morning. Not that he had been planning to outright lie to her, of course, just skirt the truth a bit.

"Yes, Potter sent a patronus to my flat before dawn asking to meet with me. It was nothing to worry you with, so I let you sleep in."

Hermione's brows furrowed slightly, but he couldn't tell if it was more out of concern or frustration. "Does it have to do with your father," she asked quietly.

Too clever for her own good, Draco though fondly. "Yes, it does."

She frowned even more, and he could almost hear the gears in her genius mind spinning to start solving the problem. "I understand if you aren't comfortable talking about it, and I won't push you. I just want you to know I am here if you need to talk." Hermione reached across the table to take his hand in hers and squeezed it. "I'm here to help."

Draco looked down at their hands and nodded. He hated having this type of conversation in public, but Hermione was very much the "now or never" type of witch. The thought of asking for help made his skin crawl, especially with a family matter. "Thank you," he said. "I'm still not ready to talk about it, but I will come to you when I'm ready."

Hermione smiled at him, but he could tell she was still disappointed.

"So tell me about Virago." He knew the change is subject was obvious and slightly desperate, but he could feel his discomfort suffocating him. "Have you tattooed half of Wizarding Britain yet?"

She looked like she wanted to argue, but eventually she sighed and relented. Hermione pulled her hand away from his and put it back on her coffee mug. "Actually, no. I only have four or five clients a day on busy days."

"I find that surprising. I was sure you would have people lined up and down Diagon Alley hoping for the blessing of your art on their bodies."

"Unfortunately not," she said with a dejected smile. "Tattoos are too muggle for most magical people. Although it isn't quite taboo in the Wizarding World, it certainly isn't widely accepted, especially by the older generation. And now that I've started combining magic with my art, I don't really want to go back to the non-magical customers and way of doing things."

He bumped his foot against hers and smiled reassuringly when she looked up at him. "I guess you'll just have to settle for covering every inch of your friends then."

"I suppose so." She returned his smile, this time with more light behind it. "Luna seems determined to reach such a goal. She came in just the other day for yet another tattoo, not that I'm complaining."

"Have you told her you might have found a way to produce her glowing moon phases?"

"Oh, no, I completely forgot." She frowned at her mug of coffee as if her drink had somehow offended her. "I got caught up in everything else that was happening, and it must have slipped my mind."

Draco couldn't help but chuckle and say, "I'm sure Luna of all people will be able to understand being forgetful."

Hermione laughed with him. Luna really was the most forgetful person she had even met. "It isn't like anyone else can give her that tattoo, either." Her tone conveyed some of her pride as did her smile. "I've been sure to patent everything with the Ministry as I worked so that I'll be the only shop open for some time. Everyone was so sure I would fail that they didn't question any of the paperwork I gave them."

Draco felt his chest swell with pride. "Then they were all fools. Anyone with half a mind would know the great Hermione Granger accepts nothing less than success. Do you plan on remaining the only magical tattoo shop in all of Britain?"

"Why? Did you plan on getting a tattoo from someone else?"

"No, I believe," he drawled, "I think I have found the ideal artist for me. You see, she's clever, charming, and wonderfully creative. I don't believe I would ever forgive myself if I allowed another artist the opportunity to sully the masterpieces I already have."

Hermione blushed prettily at the compliment and muttered something into her mug.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" He leaned forward with a hand cupped to his ear and a shit-eating grin. "I couldn't quite hear you."

"I said they're hardly masterpieces," she mumbled only slightly louder.

"You're right," he conceded. "They're not. They are more than a masterpiece, but I am afraid they are so beautiful and of such perfection that mere words were not enough, and though you could put any artist to shame I had to settle on the inadequate description of mere masterpieces. Forgive me."

She had started laughing halfway through his speech, and her blush had become even more prominent across her cheeks. He enjoyed being able to make her smile so much and with such ease. To him there was no better sound than her laughter.

They moved on to more inconsequential topics, from Ginny's latest conquest to Theo's attempts to become Hermione's apprentice. They were laughing over a creative insult Pansy had thrown at Blaise - something elaborate involving his hair and a peacock - when a new arrival at their café caught their attention.

Pansy Parkinson, looking entirely out of place in the tiny café, made her way over to their table. She looked at the mismatched chairs with a look of distaste and said, "Good morning, Draco, Hermione. I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Not at all." Hermione smiled and offered for her to join them, an offer that was very firmly shot down.

"I actually came to steal you away," Pansy told her. "I hate to cut your date short, but it's nearly lunch time, and I would like for Hermione to join me."

Draco finished his coffee and stood from the table. "That works well since I have a meeting to get to." He kissed Hermione on the cheek and said, "Thank you for this morning. I'll see you later tonight?"

Hermione smiled coyly at him. "We'll see how lunch with Pansy goes."

"Are you saying I have a chance?" Pansy linked her arm through Hermione's and winked at Draco. "Look out, lover boy. They don't call me the Expert for nothing."

"Have her home by nine."

Pansy began steering Hermione towards the door and called back, "Sure thing, father. Whatever you say."

Hermione waved at Holly as they left and then grinned at Pansy. "To what do I owe the pleasure of a lunch with the Expert?"

"If you must know," Pansy said, looking somewhat uncomfortable, "I need to discuss a very poor life decision, and I would prefer a witch's perspective much more than a wizard's."

"Ah, so I was the default choice."

Pansy pursed her lips at her. "Considering my only friends are you, Draco, Theo, and Blaise, I thought you would be the obvious choice."

Hermione gasped and put a hand to her chest. "You finally added me to your list of friends? Pansy, I'm touched."

"You're insufferable."

Pansy led her to a restaurant further down the Alley that Hermione had never been to. It was a bit too posh for her liking, and she felt distinctly under dressed, but Pansy hadn't given her much choice in the matter. They had been seated as soon as they walked through the door. Pansy ordered their wine without looking at the menu and immediately fixed Hermione with a piercing stare.

Hermione tried not to shift uncomfortably in her seat.

"Hermione, I have a very personal question to ask you. I normally would never think to discuss such things over the lunch table, but I am in desperate need of advice." Pansy looked across the room at their waiter, probably begging him with her eyes to bring their wine a bit faster, and asked, "Have you ever gone out for a night of drinking and accidentally brought a wizard home with you?"

Staring at her, open mouthed and absolutely baffled, Hermione couldn't think of a proper answer.

The waiter saved her by coming back with their wine glasses and taking their food orders. Hermione took a generous sip of her wine and tried to sort through her thoughts for a proper answer.

"No, Pansy, I can't say that I have."

"Of course not." Pansy took a sip of her wine and pursed her lips. "I sometimes forget that you were the Golden Girl."

Hermione sipped her wine and waited for Pansy to explain the sudden question, but the witch seemed content to sit in uncomfortable silence while they waited on their food. The longer they sat, the more uncomfortable Hermione became. She didn't consider Pansy a good enough friend to pry into her situation, but she was absolutely dying to know what had happened. Had Pansy drank that much the night before? She hadn't seen her leave the pitch since Draco had most of her attention.

Pansy sighed and set down her wine glass. She looked pained at whatever she was going to say, and that made Hermione all the more nervous. "I need this conversation to be kept between us, Hermione. I am not at all proud of my actions, but I need to know what I should do next."

"Of course, Pansy. I would never share your private business."

Pansy nodded her thanks and took a long sip of wine, long enough that Hermione wondered if she was planning on getting drunk again just to deal with whatever horrible decision she had made.

Hermione frowned at her and said, "You're starting to worry me, Pansy. What's going on?"

"I slept with Charlie Weasley."

Hermione choked on her wine.