Hindsight

by floorcoaster

It's a New Year and Hermione decides it's time for some changes.

9. September

Dear Reader: As you might have noticed, it's the LAST day of September. I am truly sorry that this took so long to finish. A REAL LIFE obligation sprang up that required all of my attention for a few days, and I've tried sneaking in moments of writing and editing over the past few days, but it's not been at all consistent or what I would have liked. BUT, nevertheless, in my time zone at least, it's still the last day of September, and so here I am with this chapter!

The challenge for this month was a word find, and I had to use the first 3 words I saw out of the 15 possible. My words were: flower, Legilimancy, and broomstick. I hope you enjoy this month's chapter!

Many endless thanks, as always, to my betas, dreamsofdramione and dormiensa!

ooo

Friday, 1 SEPTEMBER

Hermione hesitated to turn the page in her planner. It was Friday, she was at work, and there was an extremely prominent date circled the very next week.

Friday, 8 September, she and the solicitor would be filing the papers with the Wizengamot to expose and attempt to prevent what was in the works. She had no idea what would happen next, but she had a strange feeling that if someone saw the miniscule star she'd drawn in the box they would somehow know what it meant.

It was silly, of course; none of her co-workers had ever so much as looked in her planner and would certainly have no suspicions about a tiny gold star.

She had already sent Harry a note saying she wouldn't be able to meet him for lunch. Jenkins had sent her a note requesting a meeting as soon as possible, and lunch was the best option since the meeting would certainly not be for work.

The day flew by and her nerves steadily mounted as the lunch hour neared. When the minute hand reached the nine, she jumped up, grabbed her bag, and made her way to the atrium.

She arrived in Jenkins' office with two minutes to spare, rapped on the door, and nearly fainted when the knocker spoke to her.

"Name?" The voice was exactly what she'd have expected from a brass door knocker: metallic and slightly melodious, as if a trumpet could speak.

"Hermione Granger. I've an appointment at noon."

"You may enter." The door swung open, and she went through, startling when the door slammed shut behind her.

Although the space seemed more like her grandmother's living room than a law office. Three old, floral chairs sat around a coffee table positioned by a small fireplace. A tea service and biscuits were on the table, all ready to go. There was what she assumed was a desk in a corner, though she couldn't see an inch of wood because of all the books and rolls of parchment scattered on it, around it, and behind it.

After looking around the room, she still hadn't seen an actual person. "Mr. Jenkins?"

"Oh, good, you're here."

Hermione spun round and saw a secret doorway slide shut, Abram Jenkins had clearly just entered through it.

"Pardon me, I had to use the facilities. I should have known you'd be right on time, though." He smiled congenially. "Have a seat. Tea?" He motioned toward the chairs near the fire, and Hermione nodded and sat down. "I thought we should chat." Jenkins began to pour the tea, then Hermione prepared hers how she liked it.

"I'll admit, I'm a little anxious about why you called me here." The tea was excellent, and Hermione helped herself to a biscuit.

Jenkins sighed. "I've been working diligently on this since we met a few weeks ago, Miss Granger. I've spoken to a lot of people, probably many of the same people you spoke to. Nobody was terribly helpful, and some were downright rude." He stirred a lump of sugar into his tea. "There was one particularly nasty comment that sounded suspiciously like a threat. Something to the effect that you should keep your nose out of places where it doesn't belong, or you might not be employed much longer."

"I've wondered about that." Hermione bit her lip. "I know they've tolerated me through all of this, likely because of who I am, but once I take this to the Wizengamot… I can't imagine my boss will like that. Nor will the Minister."

"You should probably prepare yourself to make that decision." Jenkins peered at her intently over the rim of his spectacles. "What will you do if you must choose between continuing down this path and your job?"

"I'll consider it carefully. Thank you. Was that all you wanted to discuss?"

Jenkins shook his head. "I thought we should go through what I've learned. It's not much, since nobody was terribly helpful, but we might find something of note if we both look over everything together."

Hermione nodded. "All right. Let's do it."

Saturday, 2 SEPTEMBER

"I'm glad that's over with." Pansy flicked an errant feather off her coat as they exited the bridal shop.

Hermione looked away so she could roll her eyes. They'd been at the shop for nearly four hours, and in the end Pansy chose the fifth dress she'd tried on the very first time they came, the one everyone in the shop had grown quiet over. It was now nearly seven, and Hermione was hungry.

Just as she was about to say goodbye to Pansy, the other witch looped her arm through hers. "Time for dinner. What sounds good?"

"Oh, Pansy, I—"

"Don't say a single word. I know I've put you through an ordeal with this dress, but I'm so glad it's finally sorted. We're going to dinner, my treat, and that's final."

Hermione had learned when it was wise to simply go along with Pansy, and truly, she loved the idea of ending the evening with her friend. Maybe she'd even hear some news of Draco.

"Three Broomsticks?" Hermione suggested.

Pansy scrunched up her nose. "Not exactly what I was thinking. Come on."

The short walk was pleasant, and within five minutes, Pansy had given her name to the maître de at Hogsmeade's finest restaurant and they were waiting for a table.

"Are you sure?" Hermione felt distinctly underdressed, but Pansy dismissed her with a wave.

"Of course. I just bought my wedding dress, and I want a decent glass of wine."

Hermione laughed, acknowledging to herself that a glass of wine sounded lovely.

"Miss Parkinson?" the host called. "Right this way."

They were shown to a table and Hermione ended up with her back to the door. They started looking at their menus, but Hermione hadn't even made it past the wine selection when Pansy set her menu down, beaming at something over Hermione's shoulder and motioning for whoever it was to come over.

"What is it?" Hermione started to turn but there was no need.

In seconds, Draco had appeared, causing Hermione's heart to start pounding uncomfortably.

Pansy stood and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, then sat back down. "So good to see you, Draco! Would you like to join us?" She motioned to one of the empty chairs.

Hermione's eyes went wide; did Pansy not remember what had happened last time? Not to mention the witch knew she and Draco had yet to patch things up! Her cheeks began to burn, and she stared down at the table, trying to decide what to do.

"Thank you, Pansy, but no. I'd like to speak to you, Hermione, if you'll let me."

"Oh, um, all right. If that's okay with you, Pansy." She looked to her friend, torn between hoping that Pansy would object but also curious to see what he wanted to say.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I'm not your mother, of course. Go on. I might eat without you."

Draco chuckled, glancing nervously toward Hermione.

Slightly exasperated and ridiculously nervous, she stood, setting her napkin down very deliberately and following him through the restaurant. He led her outside, and they walked away from the busy entrance. Hermione had her arms folded across her chest; she wished she'd brought her coat. September in Scotland was chilly.

Without a word between them, Draco removed his outer cloak, which he hadn't taken off upon entering the restaurant, and wrapped it around her shoulders. It smelled like him, and she fought the urge to take a deep breath.

They walked a little down the street, neither speaking at first. Then Draco sighed. "Listen, Hermione. I'm really sorry for what I said the last time I saw you. It was completely uncalled for and I've regretted it ever since."

She clenched her teeth. "You regretted it so much that you're only now apologizing? Upon happening to see me?" Although a little niggling voice in the back of her mind casually suggested that perhaps it wasn't all that much of a coincidence; she wouldn't put it past Pansy to have orchestrated the whole thing.

He grimaced. "I know. I should've owled. After I left you and Pansy, I went back to the castle, and just as I got to work, there was a major setback with misordered supplies that required all of our attention. It took a full week to sort out what we'd found, and I can count on one hand the number of hours of sleep I got per night. When it was all finally over, we were so far behind on our schedule that nobody had a moment to spare." He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Besides, it wasn't something I could say in a letter. It needed to be done in person." He stopped walking and turned to face her. "I'm truly sorry."

Part of her wanted to stay mad at him. It had been easier for her to ignore her feelings in the weeks since their rift; of course, his behavior toward her had helped with that, as well. But of course there was the part of her that had missed him terribly in the months leading up to their fight. "Well, thank you for saying that."

They resumed their slow walk. "The truth is," he said, "of course I know what you're doing, and why. But it's… hard to see you suffer when I could very likely have helped—I wanted to." Then he frowned. "Though, you made it quite clear you didn't want my help, on more than one occasion."

"I am sorry for what I said as well. About not wanting 'your kind of help.'" She threw up her hands apologetically. "I'm sure that you took it as some sort of attack on your past, and I probably wanted you to think that, but all I really meant was that I didn't want you to swoop in and throw money at anyone in order to move things forward. It had nothing to do with any shady dealings or dark magic."

Draco stopped, dragging a hand through his hair. "This… this is the only way I know how to help. I have money, I use it. Is it so wrong to use what I've got for a good cause?"

"Money should never be involved in policy, Draco. That's exactly why the pixies are being disenfranchised as we speak. The Quidditch League has the money to push their agenda. If the Ministry turns a blind eye to this, what's to keep everyone with money from supporting other causes they want to see forwarded? Who decides which policies are enacted in that instance? I'll tell you who: the people with the most money." She balled both her hands into fists. "And they aren't usually interested in what's the best policy for the moment, only in what they want. Surely you can understand that."

After a long moment, he nodded. "Yes." The confession seemed to leave him bereft. "But if I don't have my money, my resources, what do I have?"

"You are a wonderful man, Draco. And you're using what you have in the best possible way. You throw lavish parties and ask people to donate to causes that have been chosen and vetted by not just you, but a whole team of people dedicated to changing the world for the better. You don't really want to sneak around, buying off politicians and manipulating people into doing what you want. That system will crumble as soon as someone else comes along with a better offer than yours."

"You're right, of course." His smile was thin but genuine. "As you so often are."

"And, while I'm on the subject, you're selling yourself short saying that your money is all you have to offer. The way you connected with Tabitha and worked for her—"

"Using my money, remember?" He kicked a rock on the ground.

"Yes, but it's your connection with her that she will always remember, far more than the money. Your financial contribution only told her you were a rich man. The way you befriended her, listened to her, really took the time to get to know her? That tells her you are a good man." Her heart felt so very full and she desperately wanted to touch him, to put her hand on his arm, link her arm through his, even put her palm to his cheek. She truly admired so much about him.

He shifted and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly unaccustomed to such praise. "Well, thanks, Hermione. That… that means a lot."

They resumed walking, crossing the street when they reached the end of it and heading back toward the restaurant. She wanted to keep talking to him; she'd missed him so much over the past few months. "How did things at Hogwarts wrap up? Everything finished? What about your special project? Did you complete it?"

He chuckled. "I did manage it, barely, though. I hardly slept those last two weeks, less every successive night. And then once it was done, I don't think I left my bed for two days. Minerva wanted me to be there for the Sorting Feast yesterday so she could say nice things about me I don't deserve. It was a lot of fun despite that, but I think I crawled out of bed about an hour before it started."

Hermione laughed. "That's wonderful. And I'm certain you completely deserved every nice word she said. I'm dying to know, was Tabitha Sorted into Slytherin?"

"Yes! Quickly." He smiled to himself, likely reliving the memory. "Probably almost as quickly as I was."

"I know the Sorting Hat had barely touched the top of your head before it shouted 'Slytherin!'" She nudged him playfully.

He puffed out his chest with pride. "Unapologetically Slytherin through and though."

Hermione smiled, thinking back to her own Sorting experience and the how difficult it was for the Hat to place her. "Are you back at work on Monday? Harry misses you something dreadful."

Draco chuckled. "He kept me regularly informed about the incompetence of everyone around him. Though, to be fair, his complaints have seemed mostly rote lately. I think he's getting used to me not being there."

Something in his phrasing caught Hermione off guard. "Will you not be going back?"

He looked at her sharply. "I absolutely will. Did you think I would be quitting the Ministry?"

"You seem to be having such a grand time up here, I just wondered if you'd go back." She noted the tinge of bitterness in her own voice and hoped he didn't catch it.

"No. I miss my work as an Auror. This project has been good for so many reasons, and I feel that I've truly made a difference, but being an Auror is a challenge unlike any other." He smirked. "Not least of which is getting Potter to write a decent report now and again."

Hermione laughed. "Oh, Harry. He's absolute rubbish at them, isn't he?"

They neared the restaurant, and Hermione sighed with the realization that she'd have no reason to continue walking and talking with Draco. Light spilled from the windows and door, bathing the street in streaks of gold. Now and then, laughter could be heard bursting forth, and she knew how cozy it was inside. Movement at the edge of her vision drew her gaze, and she saw Suzanne headed their way.

"Oh, there's your neighbor."

Draco followed her gaze, then grabbed her wrist and quickly pulled her into the nearest alley, much to Hermione's amusement. He peered around the corner once, then pressed himself against the brick wall.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

He didn't speak at first, then sighed. "I did something stupid."

Her blood froze. There was only one thing she could think of that he might have done and then, coupled with him avoiding the woman, call it stupid. "What?"

He closed his eyes and groaned. "I kissed her."

It wasn't quite what she'd been expecting, but in some ways, it felt worse. A shag you regret was one thing; a kiss, in some ways, could be more intimate and indicate deeper feelings. But she forced a smile.

"I see. How long ago was this?" The words came out robotically, and only because she knew that she had to say something, as he was expecting it. Saying something was the friendly thing to do. And they were friends—only friends, always and forever friends.

"Night before last. It was after we put the finishing touches on all of the work and inspected it with Minerva and a few of the professors. I was in quite a good mood that night."

What would a good friend say? "Well, what's stupid about that? She seemed very nice when I met her."

He cringed. "The problem is that I'm not sure how I feel about her."

Hermione didn't have anything to say to that.

Draco leaned around the corner. "I don't see her." He didn't move, though, and she became instantly aware of how close they were—so close they were touching and she could feel the pressure of his arm against hers. Draco stayed pressed against the wall as though worried that Suzanne might still be lurking. Then he turned his head to look at her, and her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were mesmerizing, and enveloped in his cloak, surrounded by his scent, she couldn't help but think of kissing him. He looked torn, his expression wrenching into obvious pain, and he turned away.

Hermione shut her eyes and let out a shaky breath. It would have been stupid, to borrow his wording.

"Well, you've got lots of time to figure it out."

"Figure what out?" With one more glance out into the alleyway, Draco finally relaxed.

"How you feel about her."

His head spun around and he gave her an alarmed look.

"I should get back to Pansy." Hermione exited the alley and waited for him to join her. Together they crossed the street in silence. Outside the restaurant, standing in one of the golden, glowing patches of light, they paused. "Thank you for apologizing. I'm glad we can be friends again."

"Of course." His responding smile was strained. "I was a complete and utter arse, and I hate that it took me so long to be able to tell you so."

"You were busy, as you said."

Her reply must have been wrong because his frown deepened. "That's no excuse, though. You mean too much to me to risk ruining our friendship. I should have made time to come to you sooner."

"Well, it's done now." Hermione shrugged, biting her lip to keep from screaming. How many times had they clearly defined their relationship in the last five minutes? More than she wanted to hear for a lifetime. "We can move on."

"I'll be leaving tomorrow. I'd have done so already, but my landlady let me stay through the weekend so I could be here for the Feast. But I'm all packed and ready to go. During my two months here, the least on my flat ended, and I opted not to renew it. Everything's already been sent to the Manor. I'm not sure where I'll end up next, but I'm ready for a change. I'm sure I'll see you around the Ministry again next week."

She glanced into the restaurant, anxious about Pansy waiting. "Good luck," she said, distractedly, turning back to him. "Well, good night, then."

"Good night, Hermione." He leaned infinitesimally forward, paused, and then stepped all the way over to her and wrapped her in an embrace.

It wasn't something they did all that frequently. For Hermione, he'd always been very emotionally and intellectually available, but touching had felt off-limits from the beginning. He was physically reserved with everyone, so much so that when he'd guided Astoria through the tent in April, one hand on her lower back and the other on her arm, it had felt like a physical blow to her—and a wake-up call like nothing she'd ever experienced.

She stood with her arms straight down; he'd moved so quickly she hadn't been able to properly return the gesture. After half a second, though, she raised them to hug him back as best she could. Her mind was entirely blank. All she wanted to do was exist in the moment, to enjoy his arms around her, to memorize the feel of him so close, even through all of their clothing.

It ended far too soon.

Draco pulled away, grinning sheepishly. "Well, I'll leave you to it, then. Bye." He started to walk away and he'd made it half a block when she remembered his cloak.

"Oh, Draco!" She shrugged out of it, immediately missing its warmth, and held it out toward him. "You forgot this!"

He jogged back and took it from her, slipping his arms through the sleeves with practiced ease. "Thanks. I'd have missed this before too long." He gave a small wave and resumed his course.

Hermione wanted to watch until he disappeared but decided she'd better not risk it. What explanation could she give if he turned around and caught her staring? With a heavy sigh, she trudged inside to find Pansy watching her with a triumphant, mischievous expression on her face. Inwardly groaning, not sure how she could possibly rebuff Pansy's efforts at extracting a confession, Hermione steeled herself and plastered on a smile. The last thing she wanted to do, after hearing that Draco had just kissed his neighbor, was tell Pansy how she felt about him.

"Where have you two been?" Pansy asked, waggling her eyebrows. "I was beginning to think you'd ditched me for a better offer."

Hermione rolled her eyes and waved nonchalantly. "He apologized about what happened at brunch. That's all."

"That was a very long apology." Pansy smirked. "Did you… kiss and make up, by chance?"

"No, Pansy. We're just friends." Hermione sat up straight and spread her napkin on her lap. "But speaking of kissing, he did tell me that he kissed his neighbor recently."

Pansy's expression went from one of smug superiority to downright shock. "He what?"

"Looks like you were wrong after all." Hermione sipped from her drink as though absolutely nothing in the world was the slightest bit noteworthy. She didn't need to tell Pansy everything Draco had said, that would only lead to endless speculation, and frankly, Hermione didn't want to sit and listen to it all evening. "So, what's the next stop on the wedding train? Now that you've got a dress, I'm sure there's a whole host of other things that require decisions to prolong and agonize over."

Pansy narrowed her eyes for a moment, then huffed. "Fine. Don't think I don't see what you're doing. And just you wait until it's your turn. It's not like I enjoy all of these decisions. But I do think a color scheme is next in order, followed quickly by the dress you will be wearing." That made her smile.

"I'm glad that you found your dress, Pansy. I thought you'd choose it weeks ago. Everyone in the shop thought so, too." Hermione grinned. "It was perfect and looked beautiful on you. And, you know it was sparkly."

Pansy gave her a skeptical look but couldn't hold it for long before she started laughing. "Literally! There are more crystals on it than I've ever seen before, but that's just what I want. It makes me feel…"

"Sparkly!"

They dissolved into laughter and then got down to the business of eating.

Friday, 8 September

"Are you nervous?"

Hermione gave Harry a look. "What do you think?"

He shrugged and started cutting his steak and kidney pie. "Honestly I've no idea. You keep surprising me."

"I'm nervous, but I think more so because this is probably my last day." She frowned at her vegetable medley. "I'm going to meet with my boss at two, tell him what I'm doing, and then take the proposal to the Wizengamot at three. Jenkins is meeting me there for that. I can't imagine my Department Head will be too happy with me."

"What will you do if they want you out? Surely they can't fire you, can they?"

Hermione snorted. "We're not in the Muggle world, Harry. Workers protections aren't guaranteed the way we're used to. And maybe they wouldn't fire me, but they could transfer me somewhere miserable and I'd end up quitting. I've thought about quitting anyway, it's not like my job really made any kind of difference. Draco's done more in the last six months than I've done in my time at the Ministry—five years, Harry!"

Harry grinned at the mention of his partner. "Yeah, he has, but he also does a lot of good work here."

"I know. He mentioned that he really likes being an Auror."

"Talk to him, did you? You two sort everything out?" Harry wouldn't quite meet her eyes.

Hermione suspected he already knew everything but was asking because that's what was expected of him. That would have meant Draco had talked about it—though, knowing Harry, he might have pried the information out of Draco. "Yes. He apologized. As did I, but he initiated it."

"As he should have." Harry pointed his fork at her.

"Right. I suspect Pansy set the whole thing up. The set up played out a little too perfectly to be coincidence, but I'm glad she did. I know for a fact he wouldn't have said it if he didn't mean it." Hermione was trying to decide if she should go back for the fruit tart she'd passed up her first time through the line.

"Too right. I'm glad he's back, though." Harry shook his head. "I had no idea just how good I had it with him for a partner until I was stuck with whoever else happened to need a partner that day as well."

She decided against the tart, not wanting to risk feeling off for her afternoon. "I'm glad to hear you two are back together."

"Speaking of people being together. He told me he's got a date tonight."

Hermione was thankful that she wasn't looking at her friend, and she made every effort to continue her movements as though completely unaffected by what he'd just said. "Oh?"

"Did you ever hear about his neighbor in Hogsmeade?"

Every word Harry spoke pounded a spike deeper and deeper into her heart, and he'd said them so effortlessly, so unaware of the pain he was inflicting with each syllable. When Harry glanced up at her with his brow furrowed, she realized she hadn't responded. Forcing a smile, she cleared her throat. "I, um, yes, we met, actually, that day Draco and I had our fight."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Yeah? What did you think? Do you like her?"

"I couldn't really say." Hermione shrugged, conscious of every move she made. "She seemed nice enough. We only interacted for a few minutes."

"He said it's their first date. I don't know. I don't like it. He goes away for two months and comes back and… he's going to start dating someone? I don't even know her!"

"Should he have asked you first?" Hermione quipped, not quite feeling tethered to the earth. Humor was good, making a joke at Harry's expense was good.

Harry gave an exaggerated huff. "Well, I am his partner. It would have been the considerate thing to do."

"You two will work it out, I'm sure." Hermione rolled her eyes. "I should get going, I can't sit here any longer. I may need to pace the length and width of the Ministry this afternoon before my meeting. I'm starting to feel a little anxious."

It was amazing how quickly Harry dropped the pretend-offended expression, his face instead morphing into a look of concern. "Anything I can do?"

"No, but thank you. I appreciate it." Hermione smiled warmly as she stood to go. "I'll see you around, Harry."

It was one of the first times she'd left before him, but the room had started to close in on her, and she needed some fresh air.

Once outside the Ministry, she felt like she could take a full breath again. She inhaled deeply a few times, then sat on a bench nearby to think.

So, Draco was now seeing Suzanne. It was interesting because the last thing she'd heard—directly from him—was that he wasn't sure how he felt about her. But that had been almost a week ago; it sounded as though he'd figured some things out.

Well, good for him. She wanted him to be happy, she truly did, even if it was with someone else. And she'd repeat this to herself until she fully believed it.

ooo

The conversation with her boss did not go well. He'd even gone so far as to tell her she had to choose: keep her job or pursue the case.

In a moment of perfect clarity, she'd seen the path before her if she chose to stay, and it was the easiest decision she'd ever made. She'd told him with her head held high that she wanted to help people, and not just the wealthiest or most powerful people. Her heart was with those less fortunate, those unable to speak for themselves.

Then she'd walked out, gathered her things, said goodbye to a few people, and left to meet Jenkins.

Giving the Wizengamot their report had been anticlimactic; they'd walked into the chamber and handed the large, thick file over to the Chief Warlock. He'd glanced at it, nodded to them, and motioned for them to move along, as there were more people to be seen that afternoon.

12 September

"Hermione, it's so good to see you." Narcissa kissed Hermione on each cheek then pulled back to beam at her. "It's been too long. Please, let's sit."

One of the house-elves had shown Hermione to Narcissa's favorite tea room, where the elegant witch had prepared a lavish tea service.

"It's good to see you as well." Hermione felt conspicuously underdressed, even though she'd worn one of her best dresses for the occasion. She knew Narcissa didn't care, but she still felt a little self-conscious.

Narcissa motioned toward the sitting area, then took a seat on the antique settee. Hermione assumed her place in an antique wingback chair. Narcissa immediately began serving tea. "Draco told me that you're no longer with the Ministry. I was sorry to hear it."

Hermione sighed. "He's correct, but I'm not sorry. Not really."

"I thought you loved your work."

"I loved the idea of it, the possibilities of what I could accomplish. But this year I came to see that it was merely an exercise in futility, that nothing would truly change because nobody wanted it to change." She stirred a cube of sugar slowly and deliberately, as if her tea was a very finicky potion that needed constant attention. "When this pixie situation popped up, I saw an opportunity to really help a group of creatures that the ministry repeatedly ignores at best, relegating them to mere decorations for holidays. I knew the law was on my side, so surely it was only a matter of bringing it to the attention of my superiors."

Narcissa tutted. "And naturally, that hasn't gone according to plan. I'm sure you never dreamed you'd be forced out of your position unless you agreed to stop the case."

Hermione was surprised by how much Narcissa knew. "Well, I'm not too sad about my job right now. I think it's still too fresh. Why would I want to work for a department, an agency, or any business really, that so callously and egregiously ignores laws they, themselves, made?" She shook her head. "That's not the kind of place I want to be."

"I admire your principles, Hermione." The slightest tinge of concern laced Narcissa's expression. "But what are you going to do now?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'll be spending more time with Jenkins getting ready for our hearing. I don't yet know when it will be, but I hope to hear soon. Beyond that... I haven't thought much of it." She chuckled wryly. "I'll have plenty of time to help with the next fundraiser, though."

Narcissa's eyes widened and she cleared her throat. "Oh, I'm not sure what's left to do. Draco has taken care of so much of it this time."

That stung; she missed being more involved with the events. "Another project of his?" She wondered if he'd tell her about it this time.

"Mm, yes, something like that." She sipped from her tea a little too casually.

"Keep your secrets then." Hermione tried to smile but couldn't quite force the expression she didn't feel.

Narcissa noticed. "What is it, dear?"

"Well, and please don't take this the wrong way, but... if you'd rather I not be involved anymore, please just tell me. Don't pretend while slowly taking away all my responsibilities. I'm not sure I can handle that."

Narcissa gasped, her hand flying to her mouth and her eyes widening. "Oh, Hermione! I'm so sorry you feel that way! My goodness, that's the last thing I want! It's... Oh, it's been a matter of timing, that's all. First Draco wanted to be in charge of July, and now he's got something else in his head, but truly, it isn't that I don't want you here anymore."

Hermione managed a small smile. "If you're sure."

"I'm absolutely sure." Narcissa's tone left no room for debate.

"All right." She felt slightly better, but the proof would be in how much they asked from her in the future.

"How are things going with Jenkins?" Narcissa asked after a long moment.

"Fine. I suspect I'll be doing more work with him soon. After all, I've got plenty of time on my hands now." She wrapped her hands around her cup, enjoying the warmth. Despite not being terribly upset about her job, she was still bitter that it happened the way it did.

Then she smiled at Narcissa. "Let's talk about something else, shall we? Has there been any word from Astoria's family?"

Narcissa arched an eyebrow. "It's interesting you would ask that. There hasn't been a single word from that quarter, and I'm honestly surprised. I had expected it to continue at least through the year."

"Maybe Astoria found someone else." Hermione hoped so, for her sort-of friend's sake.

"I've not heard anything, but it does make one wonder. And how about you, dear? Has anybody caught your fancy since Marcus?"

Hermione quickly looked away, knowing her cheeks were bound to blush. Thankfully she could answer Narcissa honestly yet still avoid the truth. "No, nobody has drawn my interest since Marcus. I'm beginning to think this year wasn't about romance, after all. I think it's about learning who I am. When I quieted my calendar, I had to learn to listen. And I discovered that, among other things, going through the ministry to really make changes isn't the best course of action. Not at this point in my life, anyway."

Narcissa sighed. "I find you to be wise beyond your years, Hermione. It took me a long time to admit to myself what was most important to me, and when everything was stripped away—my home, my honor, my security, and comfort—I found Lucius still there, by my side. How I miss him. And Draco was there, before me, becoming a man but struggling with who he should be. Lying for Harry was the easiest thing in the world, and I believe that's why I wasn't discovered. The Dark Lord, as you know, was famous for spotting lies, yet he didn't detect my deception." She shook her head. "It is good to know yourself at such a young age. You'll do great things, Hermione Granger."

15 September

Hermione glanced around the crowded café, looking for Draco. He'd sent her an owl and asked her to meet him on his lunch break, and they'd agreed to go somewhere close. But noon on a Friday was everyone's favorite time to go to lunch, and she was certain that, even if she found him, there was no hope of carrying on a conversation.

Despairing slightly as she spun, seeking that all-too-familiar white blond hair, she felt someone grab her elbow. Her first instinct was to jerk away, but she whipped her head around to glare at the person—only to discover Draco giving her a bemused smile.

"Oh, hi!" She suddenly felt breathless, like all the air had been sucked from her lungs.

"Hope you don't mind, but I took one look at this and placed an order from somewhere else. To go." He motioned toward the door with his head and started walking out.

Unspeakably relieved, Hermione followed. Once outside, where she could hear her own thoughts again, she noticed he was carrying a large basket. "What's that?"

"A picnic lunch sounded nice." His smile was endearing, and she had to pinch herself to keep from melting into a puddle. "I popped home and asked the elves to fix us up something. I've no idea what's in here, but there's a green space down the road a ways. Surely we can find a patch of grass to sit on?"

Hermione nodded, forcing herself to think of Suzanne. He was dating her, his neighbor, whom he'd already kissed at least once. She needed to remember that so that she didn't get carried away. At the same time, however, they were friends, and she was perfectly at liberty to enjoy her time with him. Resolving to focus on that, rather than Suzanne, she smiled as they walked down Diagon Alley, through the Leaky Cauldron, and into Muggle London.

"I spoke to my mother." He gave her a significant look she didn't grasp.

"What about?"

"You. And the Foundation."

Hermione felt her stomach flip. "Oh, that was unnecessary."

When they reached the park, it was rather crowded, but Draco managed to find a spot that seemed tucked away from everyone else. He set the basket down and opened it to find a blanket on top. "Lovely." He spread it on the ground and sat down.

Hermione marveled at Draco, wearing what must have been very expensive trousers, sitting on the ground with only a thin layer of padding between him and the dirt. She shook her head and joined him, thankful she hadn't worn a dress.

"Don't worry, the blanket is, well, Impervious, if you catch my meaning." He started removing packages from the basket. "Looks like… sandwiches, crisps, some fruit and cheese, hot water for tea, and a few slices of cake. Oh, and even some wine."

"That all sounds incredible, Draco." She took a plate from him and began to help him open things up.

A fly landed on the edge of Draco's plate and he narrowed his eyes at it, glanced around, then cast a very discreet Charm to keep bugs away. "My mother showed me that one as soon as I was old enough to talk. I wasn't very fond of bugs when I was younger and we spent a great deal of time in the garden at the Manor. Very handy little spell."

Hermione grinned and popped a crisp in her mouth. Draco poured her a glass of wine, and she accepted it with a grateful smile. Wine at lunch was unusual, but it wasn't like she had to return to the Ministry, and the occasion seemed perfect for it.

Draco didn't seem in a hurry to broach why he'd requested Hermione join him for lunch, and they spent a leisurely meal discussing all manner of things: Draco's time back at work, how Hermione was passing her days, and other general topics of interest.

When they'd both eaten their fill, Draco stretched his legs out in front of him, setting his plate aside. "Now. To the business at hand. Mother said—"

"Draco, I never meant for you to hear about it." She felt so embarrassed.

"It's all right. It's an important conversation that we need to have, and now that we're speaking again, we can." He gave her a significant look, his expression serious. "I hate that you felt that we've been trying to subtly push you out. That's the last thing I'd want. I think what's been happening is that I've stepped up and taken a bigger role, and I have a tendency to want things my way—I don't know if you've noticed that—"

"Oh, no, you've been too subtle." She rolled her eyes playfully.

He grinned. "I got it into my head that I was in charge of the July event. I didn't tell anyone but my mother; I wouldn't have even told Tabitha's parents until mother reminded me that they probably wouldn't appreciate being in the spotlight like that with no warning. You handled much of the running of the event, even though you didn't know what it was about."

She sighed. "And normally, I am involved in a lot of the planning. Though, once I realized what it was all about, I understood your reasons."

Draco sipped from his wine glass. "And now for this, I had another… inspiration, let's call it, and so I'm seeing it through. Once again, it's a bit of a secret, though it's not like last time. I can't apologize for this, however, as I'm resolute that nothing will alter my course. But," He peered at her intently, "I don't want you to think this is some new pattern emerging. Mother absolutely wants you to be just as involved as you've always been."

"Which I can't do when I'm not allowed. But Draco, listen. I only wanted to know if your mother wanted to stop working with me. She said she didn't, and… I have to trust that." She bit her lip. It was nearly impossible to fully trust, even though she didn't doubt Narcissa. But things couldn't possibly continue as they were, could they? Someday, Draco would marry, and then wouldn't his wife be automatically made part of the foundation efforts? She'd be a Malfoy, after all.

He chuckled. "My mother wants you to run the thing someday. But don't tell her I told you that."

"Me?" Hermione squeaked. "But, I'm… I'm not a Malfoy! I couldn't possibly be in charge of it."

"She's got her heart set on it." He shrugged and said no more for a while, instead swirling his glass and watching the crowd around them.

Hermione joined him in people watching, her eyes drifting repeatedly to a couple not too far away who were on a bench, both reading books, holding hands between them and letting go only when one of them needed to turn a page. Occasionally one of them would say something to the other, who may or may not reply. Neither seemed to mind either way.

"I hear you've sorted things out." The words were out of her mouth before she'd cleared them for takeoff, a result of her wandering thoughts while watching the couple.

"What things?" He finished his wine and peered at the glass. "Should I have another?"

"Aren't you working today?"

Draco sighed. "You're right. I'll pass. Now, what things?"

She hesitated a long moment, trying to decide if she could—or should—back out of this line of conversation. But she decided they were friends, after all, and friends talked about who they were seeing. "With Suzanne?"

He remained very still, his eyes boring a hole in the side of the picnic basket. "Suzanne?"

"Harry mentioned something about it." If nothing else, she'd get Harry in trouble with him, which might be amusing.

"Did he." It wasn't quite a question, and she could tell his jaw was clenched tight. He cleared his throat and his voice was low when he spoke. "Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, you know. We're friends, right?" She waved her hand, trying to downplay the whole thing. "I haven't properly spoken to you in a long while, and it seems like an important development."

He gave her a strange look. "We don't talk about things like this, though." She started to protest that yes, they certainly did, please refer to all the conversations about speed dating earlier in the year, but he held up a hand. "You didn't tell me about Marcus."

She felt his easy observation like a punch in the gut. Her cheeks went bright red and she had to look down so he wouldn't see if he glanced her way; he hadn't been looking at her when he said it.

"That's... true. So, I suppose we aren't the type of friends who talk about who we're dating?"

He gave a light sigh. "No." Then he turned to her with a strained smile. "But we are friends."

Hermione felt an odd combination of despair and mortification. If they weren't close enough to talk about their relationships, how close could they truly be? But she couldn't let him know his words had affected her, so she plastered on a smile. "I'm glad about that."

"Me too. I—"

Draco jumped slightly, then fished something out of his pocket.

"What is it?" She tried to see what he was holding but it was too small, and Draco quickly returned it to his pocket.

"Potter. I need to go." He checked his watch and his eyes went wide. "I'm missing an important meeting. How have we been here almost two hours?" Draco jumped to his feet and gave her an apologetic look, glancing frantically around at the spread of dishes, food packages, and the bottle of wine. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." Hermione smiled and got up. "I'll pack up and give you everything next time I see you."

"I appreciate that." He started to walk away. "I'll see you—oh." He stopped abruptly and pivoted back to her. "Speaking of the next time I'll see you, Potter is trying to put something together for your birthday."

Hermione groaned. "What? Why?"

Draco chuckled. "I don't know, I suppose he didn't learn from last year. I don't know many details, but… act surprised."

"Thank you for the advance warning. You could probably bring Suzanne."

He looked at her incredulously and shook his head. "See you, Hermione." He hurried away, darting for the closest alleyway to Disapparate.

Hermione watched him go, a wistful sigh escaping her lips. It had been an incredible two hours, marred only by her ill-advised inquiry about Suzanne. As Hermione packed up the picnic basket, she tried to focus on the good time she'd had with him, but part of her ached for more. At least now she knew she'd see him on her birthday, which would have to be enough.

For now.

19 September

Hermione wasn't sure what to expect on her birthday, but she got some relief in the form of a note from Harry around lunchtime.

Hermione,

Don't make dinner plans. Come to my place at seven. Dress warmly.

Harry

At five minutes before seven, she wrapped a cloak around her shoulders and Apparated to the Potter residence. She didn't even have to knock; Ginny threw open the door just as Hermione raised her hand as though she'd been watching through the peephole.

"Happy Birthday!" Ginny flung her arms around Hermione's neck and pulled her in for a quick, fierce hug. "Come in! We're almost ready to go." She took Hermione's hand and yanked her into the house.

"Go? Why are we going somewhere?" Hermione saw Molly come down the hallway.

"Oh, hello dear!" Molly waved with a crinkly smile. "Have a good evening!" Then she disappeared into one of the bedrooms.

"Mum's keeping James. Eloise has to come with us, but she just sleeps most of the time." Ginny patted the bundle she had wrapped around her chest. "Harry!"

His muffled reply came down the hall. "Coming!" Two minutes later, Harry emerged. Hermione was glad to see that he and Ginny were wearing dressy-casual clothes. He beamed when he saw her. "Happy birthday, Hermione!" He gave her a quick once over. "Perfect. The Portkey leaves in two minutes." He pulled out an old cassette tape and held it out. "Nervous?"

Hermione huffed but pinched a corner of the tape. "You know I don't love surprises, Harry."

"Yeah, but this is a good one. Not like last time."

Ginny snorted and Hermione rolled her eyes.

In a moment, they were pulled through space and deposited with a solid thud in an alleyway. Hermione's senses were assaulted by sounds—people, lots of people—and smells—fish and trash. She scrunched up her nose.

Harry didn't seem bothered by the strange smells. "Brilliant, let's go."

Hermione hurried after a very determined Harry and Ginny, emerging from the alley onto a riverside street. It was a very busy street, and Harry headed for a corner with a light so that they could cross without worry. Hermione recognized that they were near a part of the Thames she didn't recognize, and she wondered what on earth they were doing in Muggle London. Her excitement was growing by the second, despite her better judgment, and she listened with fondness to Harry and Ginny softly talking about directions, the best routes, and how they'd left things so very close and it would be leaving soon.

When they crossed the street, Harry turned right, then led them back down the pavement a ways until they came to a stairway that descended to the water. Hermione saw a few boats tied up along the edge of the water but thought nothing of it until they slowed down beside one. Harry stopped then and turned to her, eyes shining and practically bouncing with excited energy.

"We're here." He indicated the boat, and Hermione gasped.

The boat was about thirty feet long, and the interior part, where any passengers might sit, had glass walls. She couldn't quite see it thanks to the glare from the sun, which was just about to dip below the horizon.

"What? We're where?"

"Your birthday celebration. Come on!" He led them across a plank and onto the boat. Someone was waiting there and Harry spoke a few hushed words with him, then motioned for them to follow. Once she and Ginny were securely on the boat, the man began preparing for departure.

"Harry, what—"

"Almost… there!" He led them to the front of the boat, then down a short set of stairs and through an open doorway.

When Hermione got through, she saw a small group of her closest friends gathered.

"Surprise!"

Hermione couldn't stop smiling. "What is this? What's going on?"

Pansy was by her side in an instant, looping her arm through Hermione's. "It's a dinner cruise! Isn't it a delicious idea? I can't believe Potter came up with it on his own. Oh, and happy birthday."

Ron was there, of course, plus Luna, George, and Draco. Hermione briefly registered the fact that everyone there was a couple, except for her and Draco, but she didn't have time to dwell on it as the other guests came to bid her a happy birthday. Ron gave her a big hug, Luna greeted her airily and kindly, and George gave her a boisterous hug and a single flower. Draco merely waved from his place near the dining table.

Ginny grabbed Hermione's other arm and pointed to a set of stairs. "We can go up on the roof! And once we start moving, they'll serve dinner. I'm so excited, this is going to be so much fun!"

Hermione shook her head in pure disbelief. "Harry did all this?"

Ginny shrugged. "He may have had some help. But it was his idea to do something. I think, you know, because it's been kind of a hard year for you, what with everything at the Ministry. He just wanted you to have a nice, relaxing, interesting night for your birthday."

"I can't wait, Ginny. This is truly amazing! He's outdone himself." Hermione beamed around at everyone, thrilled to have her friends all to herself for a few hours.

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen. We'll be embarking shortly. Please be prepared for movement. For your safety, there are life jackets stowed in all the bench seats along the edge of the dining area. Thank you for choosing us for your dining destination tonight, and don't forget to leave us a positive review on your website of choice. The captain also wants to wish a hearty happy birthday to one Hermione Granger." A line from the 'happy birthday' song played over the speaker, and everyone laughed. "Should you need anything, don't hesitate to come up to the captain's quarters, and once again, thank you for dining with us tonight."

The boat began to move almost as soon as the intercom went off. "Come on!" Ginny pulled her back out of the dining room and onto the deck of the boat. The others followed, and they stood around making small talk while the boat began its journey.

Behind them, Hermione could hear the clink of dishes and flatware, and she turned around to see what looked like a wait staff preparing the table.

Harry came over to her, a slightly apprehensive look on his face. "Well? What do you think? It wasn't too much, right?"

Hermione threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. "It's perfect, Harry. Really." She released him, feeling tears prick her eyes. "I can't imagine anything I'd enjoy more than this."

Harry quickly glanced at something over her shoulder, then looked back to her. "Well, it wasn't all my idea."

"That's okay. I don't need to know the details now. I just want to enjoy this moment." She beamed at him. "I do want to know all about this journey we're going to take. Where are we going?"

Harry chuckled. "We'll head generally east toward the North Sea. I'm not sure how far out we'll get, but then we'll turn around and come back here. I think it's supposed to be a three-hour trip."

"Thank you." Hermione squeezed his hand.

He squirmed, looking slightly uncomfortable. "It wasn't just me, you know. I don't want you to think that. My idea was a table at the Leaky." He shrugged.

"Oh! Then whose idea was it?"

Harry gave her a very hard look. "Think about it."

Hermione blinked, then realization struck, and she felt her cheeks go pink. "Oh. Draco?"

"Mm. He insisted you wouldn't exactly be thrilled with a noisy pub." Harry smiled. "I guess he was right."

"He was. I'll have to thank him."

The sound of someone tapping a champagne glass with a fork drew their attention, and they saw one of the wait staff standing in the doorway to the dining room. "Dinner is served."

"After you." Harry motioned for her to go before him, and the rest of her friends filed in behind her. Hermione took the seat at one end of the table. Ron sat to her left, then Pansy, then Draco. Harry was at the other end of the table, with Ginny on his other side, followed by George and Luna on Hermione's right. She silently pouted over the fact that Draco was so far away, but resolved not to let it dampen another moment of her evening.

Dinner was presented family style, with a number of dishes set out on the table. Hermione realized they probably had a very limited menu, considering they were on a boat.

When nobody made a move right away to start, Ron cleared his throat. "Well, let's not be shy. Happy birthday, Hermione, and let's tuck in!"

She nodded her approval and reached for the dish nearest her. Soon they were all filling their plates and passing dishes, and it reminded her of meals at Hogwarts. She felt a little teary-eyed when she thought about the fact that sitting with her and her former housemates were two Slytherins and a Ravenclaw. It was so nice to see that they'd risen above their childhoods—especially evinced in their relationships with the Slytherins. It gave her hope that, with enough time and true listening, anything was possible.

The meal was pleasant, though it passed swiftly. After about half an hour, another announcement was made that drinks and dessert would be provided on the rooftop deck. Hermione had already finished a full glass of wine and was feeling delightfully tipsy. It was just enough to make everything in the world seem lovely, but not enough that she was at the risk of throwing herself at the nearest single wizard—who happened to be Draco.

Draco, who was currently dating Suzanne, his pretty Irish neighbor.

No, best not to drink too much. She couldn't risk what might come out of her mouth under the right circumstances—such as a moment alone on the roof deck. That was decidedly not a good idea.

After so much talking, laughing, and general merriment during dinner, they weren't in a huge hurry to go upstairs. The boat was big enough that the couples could find themselves a quiet corner, if they wanted, and Hermione noticed one pair at a time sneak away at different points over the course of the evening.

She sighed wistfully, wishing she had someone to sneak off with—or better yet, go home with. But it wasn't to be this year, and she was determined to have the night of her life regardless.

When they reached the farthest point of the trip, just at the mouth of the Thames as it flowed into the North Sea, everyone crowded on the roof to get a good look at the stars. They were all quiet, for the most part, though she could hear the occasional whisper.

"You don't see stars like this very often," Pansy whispered, leaning over.

"They're beautiful. Reminds me of the stars at Hogwarts."

Ron called his fiancé, and Pansy left Hermione alone on a bench facing the bow. She was content, perfectly so. Yes, her heart yearned for her friend, but she didn't need him to be at peace. Hermione closed her eyes and focused on simply existing in the moment, allowing all of her other senses to come alive. She was very content in that moment to be alone with her thoughts, to feel the sea breeze on her face, to see the brilliant stars shining above. She could hear the waves lapping at the side of the boat, whose engine had been cut to allow them a peaceful pause. As the sounds began to register and she discerned between each one, she realized that all of the hushed conversation she heard was happening below her.

Hermione opened her eyes and glanced around, expecting to find the roof deck empty. Her stomach flopped outrageously when her gaze landed on Draco, leaning against the railing on the port side of the boat, a bottle of something in his hand. He wasn't looking at her, his own gaze directed out over the water, but he must have sensed her looking because he turned to her. When their eyes met, she felt a pleasant burst of nerves in her gut, and before she'd even decided to move, she was making her way toward him.

Draco turned away and sipped from his drink, shifting his posture slightly but not moving. She stopped just beside him and leaned on the rail, their arms mere inches apart.

"Happy birthday, Granger." He raised his bottle, and she could see that his eyes were a bit glazed over. He never called her Granger anymore, and she started in surprise.

"Thank you, Malfoy." She giggled, not at all immune to the alcohol she'd consumed. Then she nudged him with her shoulder. "What are you doing up here all alone?"

His reply was slow to come and slow to express. "Thinking. Mostly."

"What are you drinking?"

"Some kind of beer. I think." He frowned at the liquid as though hoping it would tell him what it was. "I've had too many, I'm afraid."

"Ah." She looked back out over the water. "I made a point not to do that. I wanted to remember every moment of tonight."

He frowned. "Hm." Then he tipped another long draw of his drink into his mouth, cringing slightly as he swallowed. "I think I'll need another soon."

Hermione put her hand on his arm as he turned to go, and he spun around quickly, his eyes ablaze though still slightly dull. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

He swallowed hard, never taking his eyes off hers. "It's probably a bloody awful one, to be honest. But I'm doing it anyway."

"You've got to work tomorrow." She cringed slightly at the nagging tone to her words. In truth, she didn't want him to leave because she was almost certain he wouldn't return.

"Fair point. But that's what Sober-Up Potion is for." He winked and made no move to go.

Normally, silence was easy between them, but she felt something brewing, something that put her slightly on edge. And whenever she felt really off-kilter, she had a tendency to blurt things out that, if she took the time to think about, she wouldn't say. That feeling welled up in her and she panicked.

"Why didn't you bring Suzanne?" She knew immediately it had been a terrible thing to say, and she wanted to jump into the water.

Draco fully turned, leaning back on his far elbow so that he could give her a 'where did that come from?' look. Then he shook his head and looked down at his bottle, finally tilting it back for another drink. "Why would I bring her?"

Hermione shrugged. "Everyone else here is with someone."

"You aren't." His voice was barely a whisper, and he was gazing intently into the bottle.

"That's true. And… I'm okay with that." She placed her hands together on the rail and stuck her elbows out slightly.

"You are?" He peered up at her through his fringe, a skeptical look in his eye.

She nodded emphatically. "I am. I'm rather enjoying my time with friends, not thinking about anything but making the most of the night with my favorite people. I'm perfectly happy exactly where I am, and my life isn't missing something just because I don't have a date for my birthday." She laughed lightly, feeling her heart tug despite her words. She meant them, but if she could have her way, she'd be with the man beside her, his arm around her rather than leaning on the rail. A chill breeze blew just then and she shivered, though she knew it wasn't just the wind. The thought of Draco touching her, in any way, was enough to make her go weak in the knees.

He was so quiet that she felt oddly compelled to keep talking. It was probably the wine. "At the beginning of the year, I thought my goal would be to 'find love.' How stupid is that? It's not like I lost it. After trying really hard at the beginning of the year, when I finally released all of that, I met Marcus." She shrugged, not anxious to dwell on him. "That didn't work out, of course, but then I found myself in the middle of this whole pixie mess… and I watched you do amazing things, all on your own, and you seem so content with your life, just as things are. It makes me want that, too."

His gaze snapped up faster than she'd thought possible considering how far past tipsy he was. His eyes were wide with confusion and disbelief, but she refused to try and decipher their meaning.

"And look, you found Suzanne without even trying! She was just there, and things have fallen into place, and isn't that what love is supposed to be?" As she threw up her hands, she felt the engine start up.

"Hey, Hermione!"

She spun around and saw Luna's head poking up from the staircase.

Luna waved wildly. "It's time for cake!"

"All right!" Hermione pushed herself off the railing and watched Luna disappear again before she turned to Draco. "There's cake apparently."

He gave her a half smile. "You go on. I'll follow in a few minutes."

Hermione nodded and started to walk away. Then a thought occurred to her and she returned to the railing, this time leaning one elbow on it and facing Draco. "Tonight—this dinner cruise—has been absolutely perfect, Draco. I know you had a hand in it. Harry wouldn't have come up with this all on his own."

Draco grimaced slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. "I couldn't let a repeat of last year happen. He wanted to rent a room at the Leaky. I pointed out that, judging on how last year went, perhaps that wasn't your speed for something like this. I just made a few suggestions."

Without thinking, she reached over and squeezed his hand. "Thank you. This is… exactly right."

He stared down at her hand as though confused, and she hastily withdrew. "I'm going down for cake now."

When she was halfway to the stairs, he called her name.

She paused and spun around to face him. He tapped the railing with his empty bottle a few times, eyeing her as though trying to come to a decision about something. He finally sighed.

"Happy birthday, Hermione. I hope this year brings you everything you want."

"Thank you, Draco. I'm glad you came." She didn't wait for his response.

Monday, 25 SEPTEMBER

Hermione was practically bouncing when she reached the restaurant—the same one they'd eaten at when Ginny had been very pregnant. It had been a few months since she'd been out to dinner with Pansy and Ginny, and she couldn't wait. Yes, they'd all been together for her birthday the week before, but this would be different—girls only. Before Eloise was born, which slightly interrupted things, the outings with Ginny and Pansy had been some of the highlights of Hermione's days.

Pansy and Ginny were already inside, chatting nonstop as though they hadn't just seen each other. When Hermione joined them, they were quickly shown to a table. Once they were settled and had ordered their food, the real talk began.

"How did you enjoy your birthday cruise, Hermione?" Pansy took a breadstick and broke it in half.

"It was absolutely perfect. I can't think of any way it could have been improved."

Pansy and Ginny exchanged a look, and Pansy gave Hermione a knowing smirk. "Oh? What about the fact that you and Draco were both there… solo?"

"What of it?" She tried to be nonchalant. Only Ginny knew the truth, and Ginny was bound by a spell not to repeat what Hermione had told her. "He's dating his neighbor, Pansy."

The smirk dropped off the witch's face and her mouth fell open. "You're lying. I thought you said they'd just kissed. A kiss doesn't have to mean anything."

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's true. Harry told me they were going out on a date, and when I asked Draco about it, he didn't deny it."

Ginny gasped. "But how? It's not been in the papers. And you know the papers follow him around like sad, lost puppies hoping for crumbs."

Pansy was making a face that looked very much like she'd smelled something nasty. "Her? Really? I think she was plain at best. I wouldn't imagine it's serious or anything. He didn't bring her to your birthday dinner, Hermione."

Ginny looked furtively at Hermione, who was doing her best to keep her expression neutral. Hermione shrugged and dabbed her lips with her napkin. "I told him to invite her when he let slip that Harry was planning something. I don't know why he didn't."

"I think he's being an idiot." Pansy tutted and shook her head.

Ginny snorted. "Why's that?"

"Because! Hermione, obviously."

Ginny glanced at Hermione. "What about Hermione?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I've said it before. I think they'd be good together. I think he fancied her, and I don't think it would take much to get him interested again. If he isn't still interested." She huffed. "Although he won't tell me anything. I'm pants at Legilimency, but don't think I didn't try anyway. Bloody Occlumens that he's become."

Hermione remained calm. "Pansy, if he did have any feelings for me, they're long gone. I'm telling you, we'll always just be friends."

Pansy peered at her with an air of superiority. "You can deny it all you want, Hermione. It's the sensible thing to do right now, I'll admit. But you can't fool me. There's something between you two. I happen to know that Draco practically orchestrated the whole event. The dinner cruise was his idea. He found the boat, planned the menu, even negotiated a reduced fare so that everyone could attend. I was just being nice by giving Harry the credit."

"He had a funny way of showing he cared," Ginny quipped. "He was broody all night, barely spoke five words to anybody that I saw."

"He didn't seem broody to me." Hermione tried to remember. "More quiet than usual, but maybe he was just tired."

"I've known Draco a long time." Pansy clucked her tongue. "He was broody."

"Enough about Malfoy. What about a job?" Ginny looked at Hermione pointedly. "I know you've got some savings, but shouldn't you be finding something else?"

Hermione sighed and picked at her salad. "I know I need to, but it's so hard to concentrate on anything right now. Once this business with the pixie forest and the Wizengamot is all over, I'll be able to think about my future. For now, I feel like all I can do is wait. And drive myself mad with nothing to do. My flat is very clean, though."

Pansy snorted. "Then I'm recruiting you to help me with wedding plans. There are simply too many decisions, and my mother has too many opinions. I need someone in my corner who doesn't want to turn every portion of the wedding into a circus."

"I'd be happy to help, Pansy."

Ginny beamed at both of them. "See? You're already started on your path to solving the world's problems—starting with my future sister-in-law."

"I can't decide what colors to go with. I know we talked about it weeks ago, but I'm stuck on it. I really wanted this specific flower that is apparently hard to get." She rolled her eyes. "As if I don't have enough money to have them imported from anywhere in the world."

"What colors are you thinking?" Ginny asked.

Pansy's eyes glittered with excitement. "The wedding is in December, as you know, so there's a natural draw toward colors that match either Christmas or winter. Red, green, gold, silver. But, considering our Hogwarts house colors are red and green, I want to stay away from a scheme that features either of those heavily. I'm thinking of silver and gold, together with white."

"Ooh, that sounds really pretty!" Ginny looked as though she were trying to picture it in her mind. "And either of those colors will look lovely on everyone."

Hermione nodded. "I agree with Ginny, it sounds beautiful. What color dresses would we be wearing?"

Pansy shrugged and sipped from her drink. "I'll probably wait and see what dress I like best. You two will have to come and help me decide."

Hermione stifled a groan. The idea of helping Pansy choose another dress wasn't terribly appealing. She decided to change the subject. "How's Eloise?"

Ginny automatically put a hand to the top of her breast and pressed lightly. "Fine. I've got about forty-five minutes before she'll want to eat again. I could have brought her and stayed longer, but honestly, I really needed the time away. I adore her, don't get me wrong, but Harry's great with her, and there's a bottle of milk if she needs one before I get back." Ginny glanced around the room. "Let's just hope there are no babies in here who start crying or I'll have a problem."

Both Hermione and Pansy stared at her. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I'll leak. You know, milk." She flapped a hand at them dismissively. "Never mind. What about your presentation? When is that again?"

"It's the twenty-ninth. Friday." She groaned. "I've been working on it in my copious spare time, getting together with Jenkins to make sure it's perfect. He's wonderful, and I can see myself working with him again in the future, but he's rather jaded. He seems cautiously hopeful at best, but most of the time he seems patiently resigned. He's perfectly willing to do this with me, but it's more for the challenge or… something to do, rather than something he believes in or is passionate about." Hermione took a sip of water. "Don't get me wrong, he thinks I'm right, but I feel like he'd be this way about anything."

Ginny frowned. "I'm sorry. I'm sure that's frustrating."

Hermione shrugged, her shoulder sagging slightly. "I'm trying to make the best arguments I can, but I feel like I'm running in circles. I've said everything already, I've gathered all the evidence, yet I still keep trying and searching. It's a bit exhausting."

Pansy patted her arm. "There, there. You'll be all right. And we'll go out after and have a big celebration for your win."

"I wouldn't count on it." She forced a smile. "But we'll see, won't we?"

Friday, 29 September

Hermione was shaking she was so angry. It took all of her powers of self-control to walk calmly down the hall to the lift. Jenkins said something to her with a light chuckle that made her want to punch his uninterested, boring nose. They'd just finished presenting to the Wizengamot. Hermione had spoken for over an hour, used charts and maps and everything available to her to present the information in a variety of ways, and they'd been told that the members would need time to deliberate before reaching a decision.

Jenkins had merely thanked them and ushered Hermione from the room, and now he had the nerve to make a joke?

"Excuse me, Mr. Jenkins, but I'm going to need a little bit of time."

He seemed taken aback but nodded quickly. "Of course, Miss Granger. Would you like to discuss how that went over lunch?"

"No." Her teeth were gritted, and when the lift arrived, she stalked into it and jabbed her finger at the button for the atrium. Then she thought better of it and decided to stop in and see Harry. She needed to let off some steam, and he was always up for a good rant.

Jenkins sighed. "Hermione, I know it might seem that I'm being insensitive, but I've simply seen this more times than I care to count. It's a power play, and you're letting them get to you."

"Yes. Yes, I am. Why couldn't they have deliberated now? Why didn't they already have an answer, considering we gave them a full and very thorough report when we first approached them!" She forced herself to take a few deep breaths as the lift rattled toward Harry's floor.

"As I said, they're attempting to rattle you. I don't think anyone noticed that they'd succeeded, but try not to let it upset you too much." He patted her awkwardly on the back as the lift dinged to a stop. "I'll be in touch as soon as I hear something."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you. I'm sorry. I'm not at all used to this." She hurried down the hall, stopped outside the DMLE, and took a few more deep, steadying breaths. It wouldn't do to storm through the Auror Department in a huff. When she felt ready, Hermione calmly opened the door.

The entire office was abuzz, which wasn't unusual. A few people waved and said hello as she made her way through the maze of desks and offices on her way to Harry's. When she reached it, however, she was dismayed to find Harry wasn't there—nor Draco, either. Tears threatened and she stubbornly refused to let them fall. No matter, she'd find some other way to vent her frustrations. Perhaps Narcissa would be available for tea. As soon as she decided to pop over to the Manor, she spun on her heel and came face to face with Draco, returning to his desk with a stack of reports and a fresh cup of tea.

His eyes were wide with surprise. "Hi! Um, what are you doing here?"

"Where's Harry?" She bit her lip, knowing she was only seconds from spilling angry tears and not wanting to do that here in front of him.

His expression darkened slightly before clearing, so quickly she wasn't sure it had been real. "He's having lunch with Ginny. Seems like he can't handle eating alone on Fridays since you left." Draco smirked. "He tried roping me into something, but I refuse to eat more cafeteria food than I have to."

Despite her desperate desire to run, she cracked a small smile. "Okay. Thanks. I… I'll go."

"Everything okay?" His brow was furrowed in concern, then his eyes widened. "Oh, is your presentation over?"

All she could do was nod, clamping her mouth shut so she wouldn't fall apart right there.

Draco deposited his things on his desk, glancing around. His eyes finally landed on something across the room, and he returned to her, placing his hand on her elbow so he could steer her somewhere quiet. Hermione didn't try to fight; she spent the short trip trying to pull herself together. The last thing she wanted to do was ugly cry in front of the man she was in love with—especially since he most assuredly did not return the sentiment or anything even approaching it.

He led her into a little room, much like the one Harry had taken her to a few months before, only this one was smaller and clearly used for interrogation purposes. There was a single metal table and two chairs, one on either side. But as soon as the door was shut, Draco waved his wand, and the room was transformed. He hung a curtain across the large window, Transfigured the stiff, uncomfortable chairs into puffy armchairs, and the table became a soft, plush rug. He'd even thought to provide a couple of throw blankets, and Hermione sank into one of the chairs and immediately snuggled up with one.

Draco sat rigidly in the other chair, his hands clasped before him but not looking at her. Hermione suspected he was trying to respect her space and wait, not staring at her until she spoke. She felt an extreme rush of gratitude toward him, and some of her anger even dissolved.

"Thank you, Draco." Her eyes were still watery, but she felt more at peace, and she smiled at him.

His gaze darted up to meet hers, and he visibly relaxed. "Is there anything you need, Hermione?"

"No. This… this is perfect. Really."

"Tea?" He held out his cup.

She laughed lightly. "No, I can't take your tea. But thank you. I won't be here long. I already feel loads better."

He looked surprised. "You do?"

Hermione sat up and nodded. "I was angry at the way I felt dismissed by the Wizengamot. They said they needed to deliberate before giving us an answer. I thought they should have already come to a decision."

"I see. When will you know?"

"I'm not sure. Jenkins didn't seem concerned, and he told me it was normal for them to drag things out." She looked at her hands, clasped awkwardly in her lap. "I'm sure he's right that I still have a lot to learn. But, as I said, I'm feeling loads better."

Draco's gaze was intense as he looked at her. "Do you want to get lunch? I don't have time for much, but I'd brave the cafeteria if you wanted."

Hermione laughed, her heart clenching at his offer. "As lovely as that sounds, I think I should go." Though she really didn't want to. She wanted to stay and talk to him and spend every possible second with him.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Have you somewhere else you need to be? You've got to eat, haven't you?"

Hermione quirked her mouth to one side in a struggle to keep from smiling. "It's not nice to point out that I'm currently unemployed, you know."

"I said nothing of the sort." He gave her a playful smirk. "I just happen to know that, for today, your planner has a pretty open space starting… well, now."

She wished she had something soft to throw at him. "Fine. You're buying then, since I've got no income and you're richer than the Queen."

"I think I can manage the Ministry cafeteria." Draco grinned and stood. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about your morning?"

Hermione threw off the blanket and hopped up. "I'm certain. Sorry you fixed up this room for nothing."

"It wasn't nothing." He set about returning to the room to its cold, utilitarian state. "And I really don't have a lot of time, but I think we can manage a conversation."

"That sounds nice." She beamed at him and they left the DLME together, her heart racing. She felt like a silly girl with a crush on a boy. With a heavy sigh, despite her smiles, she couldn't forget that he was dating someone. And no matter how much fun she had with him, no matter how kind and sweet he was, his heart was turned toward someone else.

Saturday, 30 SEPTEMBER

"Miss Granger, Mr. Jenkins, thank you for appearing at such a late hour. We apologize for the last-minute delay that pushed this presentation to today."

Hermione glanced at Jenkins, knowing he'd guessed that the Wizengamot would try to discourage them from showing up by scheduling the hearing for well after business hours on a weekend.

"We have read through the entire report and have discussed the matter at length. You are granted three minutes to present your argument. Your time begins now."

Jenkins stood and bowed slightly. "Esteemed members of the Wizengamot. I won't bore you with platitudes; I've not got enough time. The matter is a very simple one, and Miss Granger, formerly of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, identified the problem and made every effort to speak to the parties involved in order to discuss the matter. On no occasion was anyone willing to truly listen to what she had to say. Her former department is looking the other way while the Ministry plans to break a hundred-year-old treaty with the pixies in order to sell their home forest to the Quidditch League for the purpose of building a new stadium. You've read the report; your job this evening is simple. In order to fulfill your word, to make it known that the Ministry of Magic can be trusted, you must rule against the sale going through and intervene to protect the pixies. Thank you."

Hermione's heart was pounding but she didn't take her eyes off the Chief Warlock. He frowned and appeared to study the report. Other members whispered to each other, and she was hit with the sudden realization that the ruling wouldn't go her way.

She almost laughed; Jenkins had told her to prepare, and she thought she had. She'd even been willing to walk away from her job—which, to be fair, hadn't been difficult at all. But still—through it all—she'd never quite doubted that her case would prevail.

So, when the Chief Warlock pronounced the Wizengamot ruling against her, she wasn't surprised. She didn't even react, merely nodded once and thanked them for their time.

Everything she did seemed like a dream: she thanked Jenkins, floated out of the Ministry, and somehow ended up at Harry's house. He was sympathetic and invited her out for a drink.

The first three drinks didn't seem to touch her because she was in a very weird mental space. By the time she felt the alcohol hit, it was barely a bump to pass from numb, emptiness to completely sloshed.

"I don't think it's fair, though. You worked so hard and did so much, how could they completely ignore all your hard work?"

"I don't know, Harry. I think the worst part of it is I don't know what I'm doing with myself now. I thought, after this…" She scrunched up her nose, trying hard to force her brain to think. "Oh, I don't know what I thought would happen next! It's not like they'd offer me my old job back. How could I have let this happen? I don't have a plan! Harry, I always have a plan! My plans have plans—my back-up plans have back-up plans!"

She groaned and let her head drop onto the table, barely feeling the thump. "I really didn't think I would fail. That's all there is to it. I mean, Draco didn't fail. He got what he wanted, and if he can, then certainly it would work out even better for me, right?"

Harry frowned. "What do you mean, if he can?"

"Well, I only mean, with his record." She nearly knocked Harry's tankard over with her wild gesticulating. "He's not got the cleanest history, you know. I mean, I'm Hermione Granger! I haven't asked the Ministry for much, but I helped you save the whole wizarding world! You'd think maybe they'd give me this!" Then she scowled and pressed her fists against her head. "Oh, what am I saying!? This is exactly what I wanted to avoid, using my name to get what I want, even if I want good things! It's what I accused Draco of trying to do for me! Oh, Harry, I'm a terrible person. I should go apologize."

She stood up, but Harry was quick and grabbed her arm before she tried to leave. "Hey, not like this."

"Aw, Harry. You know I'm really, really good at Disapparating. I just… I need to tell him. And… ask him…" She frowned. "What did I want to ask him again?"

"Nothing tonight!" Harry said with an exaggerated smile. "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. Come on, let's get you home."

Hermione nodded vigorously and allowed Harry to walk her to her flat which was, thankfully, in Diagon Alley. Harry even walked her into her flat and made sure she was safely within the walls of her home. Hermione threw her arms around him as he turned to go. "Thank you, Harry. You're a good friend."

He patted her patiently on the back a few times, then pulled her arms off him. "Yes, I know. Good night, Hermione."

"Night, Harry." She grinned as he walked to the door and waved to her, then she flopped down on the sofa. Her thoughts were a jumble, and for the next few minutes, she let them swim around in her brain, not concerned with any of them. But then one thought jumped out at her, and she remembered she'd wanted to speak to Draco.

Now would be a great time. He was sure to be home. Yes. She'd go and speak to him. About what had happened, and how he had won and she'd thought she would, too.

She rose and without stopping to think about what might happen, and without giving a thought to the consequences of Apparating while completely wasted, she did it.

As soon as she landed, she was sick. The twisting, the pulling, the generally unpleasant experience of Apparating turned her stomach inside out. But it was quick and she Vanished the mess, then looked around at where she was. Oh, yes. She'd gone to Malfoy Manor. She found herself outside the front door and stared at it a moment, trying to recall why she was there. Then everything flooded back—only not just the epiphany she'd had with Harry.

Everything.

The loss hit her hard, and she groaned, not sure if she should knock or just go home. Finally, she leaned forward, distressed about not being able to think clearly enough to make a decision. Her head thudded against the door, and after a long moment, during which she felt stuck to the wood, it opened and she nearly fell down.

Strong arms caught her as a familiar scent flooded her senses. She looked up into Draco's face and grinned.

"Hi."

He arched an eyebrow. "Hello, Hermione."

She continued gazing into his pale, gray eyes, her focus going in and out as they stood, half in and half out of the house.

After what felt like hours, Draco cleared his throat. "Um, Hermione?"

"How come you opened the door?"

He gave her a patient look, as though not quite believing that she was asking. "After a certain hour, the house-elf isn't supposed to answer the door. Instead they are instructed to alert my mother. Since she's asleep and I'm here, they came to me instead. It's nearly midnight, you know."

"Is it?" The last time she'd looked at a clock it had read nine-fifteen. Though, now that she thought about it, that seemed a very long time—and many drinks—ago.

"Was there something you needed?" He had a bemused expression on his face.

Was there? She frowned a little as she tried to remember why she was there. Then a stray thought hit her and she pushed herself out of his arms, trying to stand. The room spun around her though, and Draco took her arm. Hermione took two clumsy steps into the grand foyer, then spun on her heel. That was a mistake, for she was nearly sick all over the expensive floor.

That feeling brought back to the forefront of her mind why she had decided to risk Apparating to his house after having too much to drink.

"You." She pointed her finger accusingly at him, then frowned when it looked like there were two of him. She pointed from one to the other, finally settling on the space between them. "How come you won?"

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you get what you wanted and I didn't?" She scowled, stepping closer to him. "What makes you so special?"

"Erm... I'm not sure what you're referring to."

Rather than elaborate—she didn't think she could just then—she stalked closer and jabbed his chest. "Is it because you're a man?"

"I—"

"Or because you're rich?" She scrunched her nose as though she smelled something unpleasant.

Draco closed the door and sighed. "Let's get you a Sober-Up Potion, shall we? Then you can tell me what this is all about." He gently but firmly supported her and led her through the house.

Hermione kept repeating her questions, out loud or in her head, she couldn't be sure. After what felt like an eternal trek, she found herself in the library. Draco deposited her on the sofa she so adored, then started the fire. Hermione slumped over, her gaze on the flames now roaring in the grate. She heard him rummaging in drawers and was nearly asleep when he returned.

"Here you are. Drink up." He pressed a small vial into her hand, and as she sat up to drink it, he sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. In one hand, he held a glass of something that made her want to drink it and throw up all at the same time

With a grimace, she swallowed the potion and waited for the room to stop spinning. After maybe five minutes, she felt better, but still nicely buzzed. She smiled at him and started to thank him, then remembered why she was there.

"Why did you win and I didn't?" This time her voice held an annoying quaver and she told herself she wouldn't cry.

He frowned, then comprehension dawned. "You're here because of your case. Jenkins came by earlier and spoke to my mother. She asked me to come over and talk about it. I… I went to your flat to see you, but you weren't home."

Her eyes went wide. "You did? Oh. I um… I went to Harry's."

"But tell me what you meant, Hermione. What did I win?" His tone was so gentle it made her want to scream.

Well, honestly, it made her want to do a lot of things, screaming being only one thing on a long list. "You got what you wanted. Hogwarts. You had a dream, an idea, and you did what you could to make it a reality. And you were successful." She looked at her hands. "I did everything right, Draco. Everything. Yet… the system failed me."

He stared into the flames and tossed back his drink. "Listen, Hermione. I only had success because I was working with Minerva. She held sway with the Hogwarts Board, and you have no idea how many concessions I made, how many new supplies I agreed to in order for the board to allow the changes. It wasn't done completely cleanly, and the reason is because the system is flawed. Or, rather, it works precisely as it is designed to work, to bolster the rich and powerful while keeping down those less fortunate or less magical—in their eyes at least. They were content to let me have my little project as long as they got to squeeze me for everything they could."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't know."

He gave her a tired smile and went to take another drink but discovered his glass was empty. He Summoned the bottle and poured some more.

Hermione held out her hand for the bottle. He gave her a wary look, but she insisted and he finally relented. She took a swig straight from the bottle, then whistled once the whiskey hit her stomach. "That's some incredible stuff."

Draco held up his glass. "Don't drink too much, now."

She chuckled and took another sip. Considering that the sobering potion hadn't completely emptied her system of alcohol and she hadn't had any food in hours, another few swallows and she would be right back where she'd been when she arrived.

"As for me being a man, well. I can't very well help that, but I do think it gives me an advantage. You know the wizarding world is terribly backwards in many ways. Treatment and dismissal of women is only one of them."

She peered at him with fresh interest. "Why is it that you're so... different from the pureblood establishment when it comes to women?"

He snorted. "I suppose it's because I practically grew up with Pansy who, rather than succumb to the pureblood princess role laid out by her mother, questioned everything. I spent years arguing with her, standing up for traditional values, but she had a sharp and ready reply every time. Eventually, I started listening."

Hermione beamed. "That's wonderful. Does she know the effects of this history on you?"

"Merlin, no." He looked horrified. "And if you value our friendship, you'll never speak of this again."

A painful twang in her heart at the casual mention if their friendship nearly took her breath away, but she did her best to ignore it. "I would never. She hardly needs more reason to be smug. Don't get me wrong, I adore her, but she does tend to think she's right most of the time."

Draco smirked. "You have that trait in common."

"Hey!" She pushed him lightly in the shoulder, then took another swallow. "Well, I must say that I like a progressive Malfoy. And you're using your resources to help those who don't usually have a voice. It's very..."—sexy—"becoming."

He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Becoming? Is this eighteenth-century Victorian England?"

"Oh, stop!" She waved her hands and erratically shook her head. That was not a good idea; it only made her head spin. "Whoa."

"I think that's enough, don't you?"

He reached for the bottle, but she snatched it out of his reach, took a long pull, then handed it over. She giggled, then hiccuped, then giggled some more. Draco's expression was amused but also contained the hint of someone about to crash a party. He set the bottle on the floor on the other side of the sofa.

Hermione felt the alcohol take immediate effect and her smile melted into something ridiculous. She wasn't sure, but she thought he was extremely handsome right at that momentShe started to tell him so but remembered just in time that they were just friends. He had said as much so often lately. She pouted.

Draco sighed. "I'm not giving you back the bottle. I insist on being a good friend and cutting you off."

This time, the word made her feel warm and fuzzy and she returned to her sappy smile. "Friend. You are such a good friend, Draco." She scooted closer so she could peer into his eyes. It was very important that he hear what she had to say. Though, as she leaned forward, the edges of her vision blurred and the world seemed to tilt.

Draco grabbed her arms to steady her and she leaned forward, even closer, so she could speak. But before she really knew what was happening, she was pressed against him. He was wedged in the corner of the sofa, and she was leaning on him with her face mere inches from his. She could see flecks of color in his eyes, shades of gray she'd never before been close enough to observe. As her eyes flitted from one of his eyes to the other, she realized their lips were so close she could almost touch him.

She felt his breath on her lips, saw a strange mix of emotions she couldn't catalog in his eyes. Then, a stray thought registered, as her vision narrowed to him and him alone, that just a slight nudge would bring their lips crashing together. She was so drunk she couldn't feel anything but her heart threatening to burst through her rib cage, and so, without the benefit of her usually impeccable brainpower, she tipped forward, ever so slightly, and pressed her lips to his.

It was a flood of sensations she hadn't been prepared for.

Normally, she'd have wanted to explore those sensations, to examine, identity, catalog them, but she was so sleepy, and her mind was so very foggy. Instead she rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. There'd be plenty of time for thinking in the morning.