So life is hectic and crazy right? I've been trying to write this chapter for so long and I hate that it's taken me this much time to crank it out, but I haven't given up on this story so don't worry about potential abandonment! It won't happen, especially with all of your feedback, wink wink, nod nod.

Not much to say, but I hope to keep chugging along! There's a section I really want to flesh out coming soon so I'm ready to get there! Are you ready too?

Love,

Cherry


The next morning, Hermione showered then ate cold soup for breakfast, noting that the chicken she'd left out for Spes had been nearly completely devoured at some point during the night. Spes, of course, gave no indication that she'd eaten anything at all, and when Hermione tied the cleaned and shrunken basket to her leg along with a thank you note for Draco (and a specific note to thank Thrump for his hard work), she flew out the window into the morning sky like nothing had happened. Hermione wasn't insulted by the bird's arrogance, but rather pleased that she'd managed to begin chipping away at whatever walls the animal had put up. Much like Draco, she mused, as she finished getting ready for work. The changes in his behavior toward her had been largely subtle, but waking up that morning with a fresh mind allowed her to think about his actions the night prior. He was worried about her, and Hermione found it endearing and almost sweet, though she'd never thought of using the word to describe Draco Malfoy before that moment.

Hermione Flooed to work, aware that something felt different as she walked to her station, but she couldn't quite put her finger on the feeling. It couldn't have been contentment - after all who could be content after suggesting a break with one's partner of eight years - like she thought it felt, but maybe it was something akin to that. As she settled into her work, Hermione let the curious feeling take her over, secretly thrilled to feel something other than bleakness for the first time in months. There were moments where she wondered if she should feel guilty for feeling so good, but she refused to dwell on them, at least for now.

Just after ten, a Ministry owl flew to Hermione's office window, and she opened it, receiving the letter attached to its foot.

Hermione,

It feels like it's been ages since we last got together. Do you have time for lunch with me today?

Harry

Hermione smiled happily, having felt the same. She'd been so preoccupied with Ron's feelings and Draco's treatment that she missed her friend. She hastily wrote out her reply.

Harry,

It does feel that way, doesn't it? Of course I have time for lunch. I can meet you at the cafe across from the Ministry if you're busy with cases.

Hermione paused her writing, realising that little cafe was a common place to eat for the Aurors - she'd found out about it in the first place when she'd gone to lunch with Harry and Ron one day - which meant it was more than likely Ron would also be there for lunch, given that he didn't know how to make anything more complex than a bowl of cereal. She crumpled up the note and began a new one.

Harry,

I'd love to have lunch with you. Shall we meet at that Italian place on Bethnal at noon?

Love,

Hermione

She secured the note to the owl before it flew off again, only to return some twenty minutes later with Harry's confirmation. She fed the bird a treat before it left and returned to her work, letting the next hour and a half fly by in the form of patients and paperwork. When it was nearing twelve o'clock, Hermione hung up her robes in her office, running her hands down her shirt and trousers to smooth them before leaving St. Mungo's and walking the several blocks it took to get from the hospital to the restaurant. Harry met her outside and they hugged briefly before they headed in, taking a table by the window. After they ordered, pork chop for Harry and minestrone soup for Hermione, Harry ran a hand through his messy hair and grimaced at Hermione.

"I've got to admit, this lunch isn't entirely just to catch up." He said, glancing between his glass of water and Hermione awkwardly. While her mood dropped significantly at the admitting, she nodded.

"I should've known just as much. You work with Ron, I imagine it's the first thing he told you this morning."

Harry shook his head. "He actually didn't want to tell me, it's just that he looked a mess so I knew something was off." He fiddled with his hands. "I'm not going to judge you for it, you know?" He asked, looking at Hermione for confirmation. "I mean, I wish it hadn't happened, and Merlin knows why of all the blokes you could've had, you'd choose Malfoy, but-"

"Wait." Hermione put her hand up to stop Harry, her brow furrowed. "What is it that Ron told you?"

"That he caught you and Malfoy together at your flat." Harry spoke slowly, trying to put together the pieces. "That he was half dressed and when Ron confronted you about it, you told him you needed space. Is that...is that not what happened?" Harry's green eyes darted about the place, more than a little confused.

"No." Hermione breathed, shaking her head. "No, that's not what happened. Malfoy came over for treatment and I completely forgot that I was supposed to meet Ron, and when he came to check up on me, he blew up about the situation." Hermione explained. "I told him it was entirely innocent but he accused me of picking Malfoy over him, and it was all so confusing and messy that I told him I needed to take a break." Hermione left out that she accused Ron of having not matured since he was a teenager, saving both herself the embarrassment of having to admit the childish insult, as well as saving Ron from telling his best mate what he'd said.

"Oh." Harry blinked, his nerves calming. "That makes more sense. No offence, Mione, but I could hardly imagine you turning to Malfoy for comfort." Harry laughed, though Hermione didn't, all too aware that while Harry meant comfort in a different sense, she really had turned to Malfoy when she'd had no one else.

"He's a real wreck, Hermione." Harry continued, noting how serious her expression was. "I don't think he slept a single bit last night."

"Yes, well, his sleeping habits aren't my primary concern anymore." Hermione answered heatedly. "We've had that fight countless times, and I'm not certain I want to have it again, so unless something changes, we're not getting back together."

"You'll at least be civil, won't you?" Harry pleaded. "I don't want to run between the two of you like I had to when Ron was dating Lavender."

"Of course I'll be civil, Harry, we're all adults." Hermione relaxed her tone and set her hand on Harry's reassuringly. "I love Ron and I want this all to work out for the best, and if that means we get back together, I would be thrilled, but no matter what happens, I want him to be a part of my life. You know that I would never put you in the middle, right?"

"'Course not." Harry smiled and nodded. "Though I'll probably be quite disappointed if I have to start inviting Malfoy to our monthly dinners. Gin might get a kick out of it." He chuckled and Hermione quietly laughed along with him in what she hoped was a convincing manner.

"We hardly even speak outside of his treatment sessions, so there's nothing for you to worry about." Hermione neglected to explain that they did plenty of speaking just before and after those sessions, enough so that she was beginning to think she knew him better than he wanted her to. Even during the silence of their treatments, Hermione would catch herself watching Draco, noting that when he didn't think anyone was looking, he'd allow his eyebrows to knit together, a small frown tugging at his lips. And it didn't escape her notice that when he took off his shirt, he always kept his left sleeve on. Shame, for the decisions he'd made as a child, grief, for the loss of his parents, and determination, that which Hermione couldn't place, but he didn't seem to plan on giving that up to her any time soon.

Their meals arrived with little time left for further discussion of Ron, so the conversation turned toward James and Albus, as well as the unofficial Quidditch league the Ministry had. Harry was thrilled to discuss the sport, so Hermione nodded along, happy to entertain the topic if it meant making her friend happy. She also appreciated that the topic meant Harry was so occupied with explaining the specifications of the newest broom - the Hypersonic 800 - he planned to buy the moment it came out that he didn't notice Hermione's thoughts straying from the discussion and back to a certain blond.

When they finished eating, Hermione quickly snatched up the bill and paid for their meal, insisting Harry could pay for the next when they went somewhere more expensive. That made Harry laugh, and by the time they walked outside, it was clear that whatever worries Harry had had when he walked into the meal were now gone.

"You know I'm going to have to give Ron a good talking to now, right?" Harry asked as they walked together, heading in the same direction.

"Harry James Potter, don't you dare." Hermione gasped, gripping Harry's arm with surprising force. "I will not have you causing any trouble in this whole mess."

"He's got it all twisted around, Hermione!" Harry argued. "If you two were on the same page, I'd have no issues letting it work itself out, but how will you even get to a point where you can if he's under the impression you're shagging Malfoy?"

Hermione's words caught in her throat and she pointed sharply at Harry. "Harry, even if that were the case, never put it into words." She shook her head much like Molly Weasley did she was disappointed in one of her children. It made Harry grin.

"Fine, then. You'll just have to talk to him yourself since you've already got the Weasley matriarch lecture down. That can't go to waste in another family. Unless it goes to use in the Malfoy family because you're shagging the new head."

"Not another word, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, turning the corner as she stalked toward St. Mungo's Harry's laughter fading as he crossed the street to go back to the Ministry.

That evening, Hermione received a letter from Ginny, who had clearly spoken to Harry, apologising for her brother's stupidity and offering to knock some sense into him. When Hermione turned down the offer, Ginny showed up at her door, box of chocolate frogs in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other.

"The chocolate frogs were all we had laying around." Ginny explained as she went to the cabinet to find a corkscrew. "You'd think I was married to a ten year old, the way Harry goes through those things." She muttered, uncorking the red wine.

"You don't have to do this, Ginny, I'm quite all right, I promise." Hermione confirmed, folding her arms across her chest. She was all right, at least when she didn't think about how her and Ron's fight had gone. Those were the moments she felt weak and scared again.

"Yeah, strangely all right, I'd say. Not that I didn't see it coming, course." Ginny continued. "You two have seemed distant for quite some time now. It's been a slow downhill progression for a while, hasn't it?" Ginny poured two glasses and took them over to the couch, sitting at one end while Hermione relented and took the other, accepting the glass filled far too much for just sipping. "So what really caused all this?"

Hermione explained it all to Ginny, going into more detail than she'd planned on sharing. She told her of their slowly decaying relationship, how she wanted so much more for them, how what Ron expected of her didn't align with what she wanted for herself, and how Draco's reappearance in her life had made Ron insecure, and how it scared her that he'd handled it no differently than he would have when he was a child.

"It's my fault." Hermione admitted. "I should've known what I was agreeing to when we began dating, and I think on some level, I've known since the beginning that things wouldn't work if they didn't change. I just didn't want to let go. I still don't want to let go." Hermione snorted and took a drink. She'd begun to wonder if her choosing to prolong the relationship as it was was an attempt to keep from disrupting any more constants in her life than she had to, and it was the longing for things to return to normal that made her think she was on the right track.

"And you might not." Ginny noted. "But I don't think you should get your hopes up that Ron will improve at all. That oaf has been the same wanker since he was five."

"Ginny, that's your brother." Hermione chided, though she had to admit Ron hadn't changed at all since she'd met him.

"And?" Ginny took a long drink of her wine. "That doesn't make it any less true." When she saw the unease on Hermione's face, she slowed her insults. "He might make some improvements now that he knows you're sincere." Ginny said thoughtfully. "This is the first time you've broken up, I would imagine that makes it a little more serious. He loves you and if he wants to get you back, he'd be daft not to understand that it'll take some effort."

Hermione hummed thoughtfully and shrugged, taking another drink. "One can only hope." Her response was quiet, and with nothing left to reassure her friend, Ginny tore open a chocolate frog, shoving it into Herimone's free hand. She smiled and took a bite of the overly sweet chocolate.

"Harry mentioned a Quidditch league at the Ministry." Hermione changed the subject knowing that if there was anything that would get Ginny to forget what she'd come there for, it would be Quidditch. It worked, just as she had hoped, and for the next hour, Hermione listened to Ginny's stories from her years she spent playing professionally, as well as the time the Auror department was down a player so she filled in. Hermione noted that Ginny was just as thrilled at Harry to discuss the sport, and when Ginny made a comment about having preordered Harry's birthday gift, a Hypersonic 800 broom, Hermione knew that there wasn't a match better made than Harry and Ginny. They were so in sync with each other, and it made Hermione grow jealous to know that they had found each other so perfectly and so young. It must've been nice, to know someone so well and to be happy to know each other so well. She couldn't imagine the feeling.

"You all right?" Ginny asked hesitantly, resting her hand on Hermione's knee. Ginny liked to think of Hermione as one of her closest friends, and the expression on her friend's face was one she wasn't familiar with, but she could assume that the somber look was indicative of something deeper.

"Yes." Hermione answered. "Just tired is all." In far more ways than one, Hermione thought sourly.

"Well it is getting late." Ginny conceded, looking at the clock on Hermione's mantle. "I suppose I should return home and free Harry from Albus' incessant requests for bedtime stories when he should already be asleep." Ginny forced herself off the couch and stretched her arms above her head. "You'll keep me up to date on how things are going with Ron, yes?" Ginny looked at Hermione expectantly and Hermione nodded agreeably, though she had no intention of keeping Ginny in the loop. No matter what Ginny said, Ron was her brother, and Hermione refused to even possibly drive a wedge between the two. It might not have been an issue for Ginny, but Ron would likely take great offence to her words if he knew of them. Hermione didn't want Ginny to risk her relationship with Ron too.

There was the familiar tapping of an owl at the window and Hermione had a funny feeling is was a certain pompous bird that belonged to a similar owner. Ginny looked to the dark window and Hermione placed her hands on Ginny's shoulders and guided her toward the Floo.

"Take the Floo home. You've had too much to drink to Apparate safely."

Ginny snorted comically. "Says the girl who Apparated to Ron's flat in the middle of the night far from sober just a month ago. Besides, I prefer Apparating." She adjusted her coat and glanced again at the owl, who was tapping again, quite impatiently. "You should get that. Could be work." Ginny said, though her expression indicated that she didn't particularly think that was a St. Mungo's owl.

"Right. I'll talk to you soon. Night, Gin."

"Night." Ginny waved before Apparating with a loud crack, leaving Hermione to rush to the window.

"So sorry, Spes." She apologised to the owl, who swooped in and perched on the back of a chair, letter tied to her ankle. Spes stuck her leg out angrily and Hermione hurried to untie it, though admittedly, some of her hurrying stemmed from curiosity. What did Draco want now? They still had a week before their next meeting.

Granger,

I've passed your message along to Thrump, though he didn't seem to fully appreciate the gravity of receiving a thank you from the Hermione Granger. Instead, he started muttering some rather gauche commentary about your heritage. It looks as though some of my father's teachings haven't left this world yet. You'll be very impressed to know that another house-elf that works (yes, you read correctly) for me, Mimmy, admonished him quite thoroughly. Mimmy likes to read the Daily Prophet, and whenever she sees your name, her ears wiggle back and forth like she's preparing to take off in flight. I suspect she remembers you from your first visit to the Manor.

Hermione paused, knowing that Draco was referring to a visit she desperately tried to forget, and tried to remember the presence of any house-elf during the time she'd been there. Of course, trying to remember such a detail was clouded by hours upon hours of torture, which seemed to be the only memory of the day she could bring to the forefront of her mind. Closing her eyes tightly for a moment, Hermione breathed in and out slowly before returning to the letter.

On a separate note, this morning, Spes returned to me and practically demanded that I feed her all the food on my plate. She squawked and hollered until I relented and let her have a bit of bacon, only to nip at my hand when she realised she wasn't getting any more. I must ask that in the future, you refrain from overindulging my owl, as I sense it will grow to be my burden when the damn bird retires. Besides, all Spes requires is a statement of approval for her work, not a treat.

Please return Spes tonight to me as clearly letting her spend the night at your disposal will earn me a spoilt owl.

Draco Malfoy

Hermione looked over at Spes, who was preening her feathers, but when she felt a set of brown eyes settle on her, Spes eyed Hermione, blinking once.

"Thank you for delivering this post, Spes. You've done a good job." Hermione tried Draco's method of complimenting the owl, and Spes did seem to appreciate the words, craning her neck as she adjusted her body further onto the back of the chair. Hermione stood and walked to the kitchen, fishing around her cabinets for some owl treats, tossing several in a bowl. When Hermione turned back to the table, she saw that Spes had turned her head nearly backwards to see what the commotion was. Spes' eyes darted to the dish in Hermione's hands and adjusted her claws in anticipation. Hermione set the dish down on the table and sat down, writing her reply to Draco.

Malfoy,

It titillates me to hear you employ at least one of your house-elves. Will you introduce me to her when I come to the Manor next Tuesday? Mimmy sounds to be a brilliant example of her species, though I think her interest in me is misplaced. While S.P.E.W was my first project of pride, I fear that I've abandoned those practices since beginning work at St. Mungo's. I hope Mimmy won't be too disappointed in me.

There was a rustling and Hermione glanced up at Spes, who had her face shoved into the bowl, snagging a beak full of treats before flying off the chair and into Hermione's bedroom, clearly looking for privacy to eat her snack. Hermione smirked and returned to writing.

As for Spes, you indicated that she doesn't like to travel at night, so despite your demand I return her, I'll be letting her make that call. As such, this letter might find you merely minutes after I've written it or in the morning. We'll let Spes decide.

Hermione Granger

Hermione folded the note, addressed it to Draco, and called out to Spes, who flew back into the living room. Hermione explained the situation to the eagle owl, who listened attentively before sticking her foot out, ready for her return home. Hermione obliged the owl but insisted she take one more treat for the road, and Spes acted as though it was a burden, but Hermione was beginning to understand the act Spes put on, and nearly begged the bird to take one treat, Spes nearly rolling her eyes before swallowing up two more before flying out the open window.

With a smile on her face, Hermione walked into her bedroom and grinned at the small pile of crumbs in the doorway to her bathroom, picking up the remnants and tossing them into the bin before changing for bed. She climbed in under her comforter and closed her eyes, sleep finding her much quicker than it usually did.


"Mimmy saw Miss Hermione that day," the spindly house-elf wrung her hands, her ears pointed back and downward. "Miss Hermione is braver than anyone Mimmy knows."