Hermione floo-ed to the Potters' house during the third week of January. The three had agreed to see other weeks ago but busy work schedules and an inquisitive Rita Skeeter made it harder for them to meet at public places. When Hermione's and Harry's workload lightened, they immediately decided to hang out the Potters' house at a short notice of three days.

Harry and Ginny's home was a modest two-storey building with four bedrooms and a picturesque lawn filled with buttercups and daisies. It followed the comforting warmth of the Burrow but was neater than Ginny's childhood home.

The moment Hermione stepped out of the fireplace, she was enveloped in a warm hug by a redhead, "Hermione! I missed you. It's been forever."

"Ginny I wrote to you yesterday," Hermione giggled, returning the hug.

Ginny's pregnancy was evident on her face and body. Hermione noted the rounded face, somewhat plump arms and the bulging belly. The redhead had cut her hair short; a bob reaching her shoulder but everything else remained the same: the bright brown eyes and the freckles spread across her light coloured skin.

Harry's voice called out from the kitchen, "It's the pregnancy." He stilled for a moment when Ginny turned around to glare at him before giving Hermione a toothy grin and hugging her.

"She was complaining for days about how much she missed you," Harry said, pulling away and wrapping his hands around his wife's waist.

"That's because all you do is talk about Quiddich whenever anybody comes over," Ginny replied in mock anger, jabbing her finger on his chest.

"Harry! You're being inconsiderate," Hermione scoffed in response, taking on the teacher-voice she developed throughout the months.

Harry looked startled at the accusations, his emerald green eyes swirling with confusion. He paused for a moment before looking at his wife, "But you only wanted me to talk about Quiddich and keep you updated."

"But you didn't have to sound that enthusiastic!" Ginny whined before giggling. She shook her head and returned to the living room, muttering about wanting strawberries.

Hermione mouthed 'hormones' to Harry before giving him a comforting pat on his shoulder.

The three settled in the living room; Harry and Ginny sitting together on the couch while Hermione sat adjacent to them on the individual plush chair. She saw how Harry held Ginny close to her, one hand wrapped around her waist, protectively caressing her four-month baby belly. She smiled to herself, happy for her friends' happiness. Ginny had a bowl of strawberries on her lap which she snacked on leisurely.

"How's work, Harry?"

"It's going okay most of the time." Harry started, "I thought being an on-field agent was difficult but paperwork and managing other people are sometimes more hectic."

Ginny giggled at the stories he told them, finding whatever Harry told to be amusing. She placed her hand over his, "But I don't mind that my husband returns home at exactly seven-thirty. There's only so much work I can do from home before I get bored."

Ginny bite on a strawberry before turning to her friend, "How's work? I know you told me things but tell me the details."

Hermione quirked one eyebrow, waiting for her very pregnant friend to elaborate on the 'details' but only laughed when the redhead wiggled her eyebrows.

"Well... we had a seventh year give another student antler ears," Hermione noticed the way Ginny slightly leaned forward, "It was a love triangle."

Hermione and Harry laughed when Ginny made a mock gasp of astonishment. Hermione proceeded to tell her friends about the very child-like love triangle and how the girl involved was not even aware of the fight. She told a couple of other stories, of her transfiguration classes and harmless staffroom gossips.

Ginny was thoroughly delighted with the stories, laughing hard as tears streamed down her face. Hermione and Harry soon joined afterwards, filling their house with lively laughter.

"Merlin, Hermione's stories are better than Harry's," Ginny said after they calmed down. Harry gave her a fake sad face, making his wife giggle. Sighing she continued, "I mean catching your co-workers shagging is one thing but waiting for students to rearrange themselves so you can reduce points is another level."

Harry chucked in response, "That's true. You won this time Hermione."

She responded by giving him a mischievous grin as he got up from the couch to refill his wife's bowl.

The two women talked about the redhead's pregnancy, the symptoms, the kicks and all the clumsy things Harry does. When Harry yelled from the kitchen that he could hear them, the witches went into another fit of giggles. A comfortable silence filled the room as Harry rejoined them, Ginny happily munching on her pregnancy craving.

Harry coughed softly once, drawing the others' attention and he looked at Ginny before turning to the new professor, "Hermione...Ginny and I were thinking of making you our firstborn's godmother. We thought you would be a wonderful role model."

"Really?" Hermione gasped as she looked at a nodding Ginny. Warm spread across her chest at the declaration and she smiled at her best friends, "I love to. Thank you."

"We're considering making George the godfather." Ginny said after a moment, "We thought it might lighten him up. He... he still can't produce a Patronus." Tears welled up on her eyes and moments later rolled down her cheeks, "He's an amazing brother Hermione. He takes care of me when Harry's not home but sometimes he looks so sad."

Hermione sat down next to her friend as soft sobs escaped her mouth. She hugged her as Harry wiped the tears away from her cheek.

"He would love that Ginny," Hermione said, trying to comfort the crying women in her arms.

"She's right Gin. George will be happy." Harry comforted her, rubbing circles on her back, "He's going to visit us tomorrow. We'll ask him then, love."

Ginny only nodded in response, burying her face in her hands as she sobbed quietly for a while with Harry and Hermione comforting her in silence. She wiped away the tears from her face before offering Hermione and Harry a small smile, "I'm sorry for being so emotional."

Harry pulled his wife close to him and placed a kiss on her forehead, "It's okay Gin."

An owl pecked on the window, interrupting three in the living room. Harry got up and took the letter from its beak. The grey owl hooted and flew away. Ginny and Hermione waited as Harry read through the letter.

"They're not asking you to go on-field, are they?" Ginny asked concern evident in her voice. Hermione noted the increasing pressure on her hand as Ginny's fingers tightened around them. Auror missions were sometimes dangerous and Hermione understood Ginny's worry. It was a stroke of luck that Harry could shift to paperwork when the Potters found out when there would be an additional member last year.

"No" Harry replied and Ginny let out a relieved sigh, "Ron's coming back. In three days. His mission was a success."

The silence that followed afterwards was broken by Ginny, "Oh that's good."

Harry shuffled in his feet, a nervous habit Hermione was very well aware of. She knew he was nervous because of her. Harry informed her that Ron seemed indifferent to her re-entry to the wizarding world. But Ron and she only talked to each other once after their breakup. She wondered—if they ever met—whether it would be as awkward as that time, which was almost two years ago, a week after their breakup.

"Um... Bill, Fleur, Charlie and others are returning to the Burrow next month. Molly's most probably going to throw a large get-together and she's most likely going to invite you." Harry was not looking at her, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. He paused for a moment, looked at her through his lashes and continued, "She misses you. She was sad she couldn't see you last time. I'm sure she's going to insist that you attend."

"You don't have to. I can make up some excuse to mum if you want." Ginny intervened, patting Hermione's hand, "Honestly speaking, I don't know how it will be like between both of you." She said, referring to Hermione and Ron, "Mum probably didn't think of that but convincing her without giving out any details can be done."

Hermione sighed. She missed the Weasleys—there's only so much that can be said with letters, especially with physically communicative people like them.

Even though the break up was bad, she felt guilty that she didn't talk to her best friend and ex-lover. They did have almost a decade of friendship and she wanted to reignite that some way or the other. However, meeting for the first time at the Burrow wasn't a good idea. Ginny was right, Hermione didn't know how they would interact. What if things turned messy?

After pondering about it for a moment she finally replied to them, "I do want to go if there's a get-together. I miss them very much." Hermione noticed that Harry and Ginny sighed in relief, "But how about the four of us meet up before? Ginny's true. I haven't talked to Ron for a long time. So... just in case..."

"We can do that," Harry said, giving her a reassuring smile, "I think that's brilliant. I'll tell Ron."

The conversation flowed smoothly afterwards. Hermione was filled in with more stories on the things she missed during her year of absence and in turn, she filled them in with her muggle life, with interruptions from Ginny about muggle transportation and technology. The hours rolled by and it was night time when she left the Potters' home to her apartment, a grin plastered on her face. As she walked into her home, she was greeted by Crookshanks, who jumped from the couch and rubbed his body against her leg. He meowed and jerked his head towards the clock above the fireplace.

"I'm sorry I'm late Crookshanks. I'll get your dinner now." Hermione apologised as she bend down to pet her cat.

Crookshanks meowed twice to voice his annoyance before following her to the kitchen. It was a small space, mainly used by professors to stock things like alcohol and pets' food rather than for making food, considering that there were elves to do the work. Hogwarts' faculty apartments were similar: the living room right opposite to the doorway, a bathroom attached bedroom to the right, a study area next to it and a small kitchen to the left of the living room.

"So Crookshanks," Hermione started, waiting for her cat to look at her before speaking, "Ginny and Harry made me their firstborn's godmother. It's quite thrilling and somewhat scary but I hope I can be a good godmother. I know that they're going to be amazing parents."

The cat chewed on his food, looking at the plate.

Meow.

"We talked about a lot of things. We talked about work, about friends and everything we could fit into the five hours. Did you know that Dean got married last year? It was kind of surprising. Then what else, Teddy's six now and it seems he has more control over his metamorphosis. He looks so much like his parents. Harry showed me a picture. He's still clumsy as Tonks but even with the turquoise hair, I can see his father's features-he has his father's eyes."

Meow.

"Ron's coming back from his mission in three days."

Crookshanks looked up, staring at her for a few moments. He returned to eating his food. Meow.

Hermione let out an amused chuckle at her pet's ability to act like a human.

"I'm planning on meeting him. I still want us to be friends, at least civil, if possible. I don't know whether that's possible... our breakup wasn't pleasant and we both got hurt." Hermione let a gloomy sigh escape her lips, "I hope nothing goes bad."

Their breakup was bad and messy, and a part of Hermione blamed herself for it. While at Hogwarts, their relationship was long-distant, sending letters and sometimes Patronuses if Ron was in the Burrow. When she joined the Ministry, they met more often but Ron would be absent for months along with Harry for their Auror missions. Hermione understood that-even she went to meetings and other places for weeks and both of them relied on letters to communicate.

She remembered the inkling of doubt that was planted in her mind when she started working at the Ministry. He was floors away from her office but she felt that things were slowly crumbling between them. Small cracks that formed when they fought; cracks that formed when one didn't reply to the letter in time; cracks that formed when they acted too different; cracks that formed when Ron refused to discuss the things they fought about afterwards; cracks that formed when he acted like nothing happened after they fought.

They were like two mismatched pieces during that time.

"What went wrong?" Hermione asked Crookshanks, scratching her pet, "Harry and Ginny worked out. Was it because we were too different? I always thought our differences would make it work—I thought we would complement each other."

Meow.

"It's just... we both knew it wasn't working. Remember the vacation to Greece Crookshanks?"

Meow.

"We thought some distance would work. It's funny, really, since we always fought about our relationship being long distant all of the time. The vacation was nice right?"

Meow. Crookshanks remembered the different types of kneazle treats they provided in that foreign country.

"He asked me to marry me him the day we returned from Greece."

Crookshanks looked at Hermione, his eyes boring into hers. Hermione never really told her cat about when Ron proposed. He didn't make a sound but stared at her and flicked his tail. Continue.

"He wanted to get married. But it felt so... off." Hermione explained remembering the incident. They were in her Ministry's faculty apartment when Ron asked the question. He fumbled once, his face slightly pink as he went on his knee.

She remembered the utter devastation that crossed his face when she didn't reply. The way his face turned from pink to ghostly pale. The way the corner of his lips drooped down and how he shut the velvet box.

That was the moment that she knew their relationship reached its end. The realisation hit her the moment the sound of the velvet box closing filled the pathetic silent air.

She always felt bad about not addressing the inkling of doubt that crept up her bones when things turned bad between them. She remembered how she used to cry when he avoided her after an argument. A part of her always pushed it down when Ron surprised her with gifts or when they went back to normal after they fought. She pushed it down when they spent time with the Weasleys in the Burrow because everything felt so so right. As if it was meant to be. Normal.

"I thought it was the change of environment from Hogwarts to the Ministry that caused the uncertainty." Hermione whispered, "I was an idiot for pushing the thoughts away. I should've listened to my instinct."

Meow.

"I feel so bad for hurting him."

Crookshanks stopped eating his food and walked towards her, sitting next to her on the floor. He nudged her with his head but when she didn't respond, he climbed on her lap and rubbed his head on her stomach. He learned long ago that humans cried without showing tears and often appreciated some form of physical contact as reassurance. They sat in silence as Hermione stared at the wall in front of her, running her fingers through his fur.

"You're right. If I stayed, it would have been bad for both of us. Both of us would've been miserable." She eventually voiced, "As mom said, it's a closed chapter and I shouldn't dwell on it. Thanks, Crookshanks."

He was happy that she understood what he was trying to convey and continued rubbing his head against her stomach.

Meow.

"Professor Malfoy, can I have a moment?"

Malfoy stopped re-arranging the things on his desk. He looked up to see the transfiguration professor standing in front of him, a book clutched close to her chest. Students were moving out of the potions class, some muttering while others enthusiastically yelling 'thank you' at the platinum blonde teacher.

With a flick of his wand, he conjured a chair in front of his desk and motioned for the brown-eyed woman to sit. The humidity of the class made her already bushy hair double in size, the brown curls spreading outwards like a lion's mane.

"It must be something colossal," he drawled, pointing at her head, "Since you're putting your hair through such torture."

The book landed on the desk with a soft 'thud' and Hermione scoffed in response, patting her hair unsuccessfully to maintain it.

"It's about Walker."

Malfoy quirked one eyebrow and he leaned back into the chair, hands folded over his chest; a gesture she knew he did when he was being serious about the students.

"Walker? Noah Walker?"

"The fifth-year Noah Walker." Hermione confirmed, nodding, "He's a bright student but recently I noticed that his grades' been falling. I don't know whether it's because of my teaching style or something else."

"He's not doing well in my class too. Apparently, he's not doing well in other classes too. Professor Flitwick and Longbottom also showed their concern." Malfoy replied.

Hermione frowned at the response. She was relieved that her teaching style didn't affect her student but was discomforted by the sudden turn of events. The fifth-year valued his studies, having excitedly told her his ambition on taking subjects to N.E.W.T Level a few months back.

"I just hope everything goes well." She said, biting her lower lip, "He's going to write his O. this year."

"It may be something personal. He's been moody since he returned from winter vacation." he replied, "He's pretty reserved in my class. I asked him to meet me this weekend. If I can't figure out what's wrong, I'll ask him to meet you."

She was slightly taken back by his words. She was aware that he was a dedicated professor – her students told her so – but the level of care he catered to them left her in awe.

A smile formed on her lips, "Thank you Malfoy."

She stood up, flicked her wand, sending the chair back to its position and took her book. She turned around when she reached the doorway.

"You know, we've patrol today. Apparently, two of the Prefects are ill." She said one hand on the doorway.

"I know," Malfoy replied, walking towards her. A smirk formed on his lips when he stood in front of her, "If I'm correct, it's in the dungeons."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, "What's wrong with the dungeons?"

Her puzzlement only increased when he chuckled. He walked out of the class, utterly delighted in her bewilderment.

"You'll find out tonight, Granger." He replied, glee obvious in his voice as he walked away.

Hermione completely understood the sly words that Malfoy told her as they walked side by side along the corridors of the dungeons. So far, they caught three couples snogging behind various classroom doors and tapestries. To her surprise, there were more Gryffindor students than Slytherins.

After Malfoy sent two more students away with a warning, Hermione turned to Malfoy, hands on her hip, with a raised eyebrow, "What was that?"

He looked at her, a smirk on his face, "What was what? You wanted me to give them detention?"

"Then what else?"

He sighed, clearly amused, "There's a reason students don't snog in the towers, Granger. You give them detention all the time."

"They were breaking school rules."

"You've broken school rules before Granger," Malfoy replied, eyebrow raised, "Even if it's not for snogging somebody."

They walked down the hallway, glancing into classrooms in the process.

She rolled her eyes and scoffed in response, "Mal- Professor Malfoy, it's clearly against the rule to stay past curfew. I'm not chastising anybody for snogging behind tapestries. I just don't understand why anybody wants to meet up in the cold dungeons and ruin their sleep."

"It's called having fun."

She gave him a deadpan expression, "Like I said I don't get the idea of having 'fun' if I get my arse frozen and my sleep ruined."

He let out a chortled laugh, "Think like a hormonal teenager and you'll get it."

She remembered her school days and how her dorm mate Fay used to sneak out to meet with a Ravenclaw boy. Although their relationship was short-lived, at three months, Hermione often woke up with Fay entering the room at the crack of dawn.

She chuckled at the memory, "I just remembered a very intelligent hormonal teenager. Woke up an hour early to meet her boyfriend rather than stay up late."

"No professors or Prefects," Malfoy added, nodding. He turned his head slightly to glance at the professor besides him, "But why were you awake at that time Granger?"

"Studying"

"Why am I not surprised?"

"We had O. that year, Malfoy," she replied, "And Umbridge was the DADA professor" she scrunched her nose at the unpleasant memories; "I didn't like her teaching methods."

He hummed in agreement, "She was bad."

Hermione blinked. She turned to look at Malfoy, shocked at his response, "Excuse me? What did you just say?"

Malfoy continued walking, his expression neutral, "I said she's a bad professor."

"Bu-but you joined the Inquisitorial squad" Hermione clarified, aware that her voice was turning shrill, "You were one of the most active members."

"Yes, that's because I enjoyed the power," he replied and Hermione saw him grimace when the words left his mouth but soon regained his composure, "but she was a horrible professor. She didn't let us use wands, she only taught theory and her punishments were illegal."

"She never punished the members of the Inquisitorial squad."

"She didn't. But she made fun of the half-bloods of Slytherins," he replied, "Slytherins are extremely loyal Granger. If talking bad about a first-year's parents didn't upset the students then punishing a half-blood Quiddich member did."

Hermione fell silent at the confession. A part of her knew Malfoy was a changed person after the war, after having witnessed the horrible things at his misguided beliefs but she was startled by the softer qualities of him before that.

Malfoy glanced at Hermione once before asking, "You weren't expecting that were you?"

"No" Hermione replied honestly. She blinked at the word that left her mouth, "I didn't mean that—I just meant that—it was unexpected—"

"You don't have to justify anything, Granger" Malfoy interrupted and the witch immediately fell silent, "I didn't have many redeeming qualities when I was younger. I'll consider you stupid if you contradict me."

Silence swept the hallways again as they walked down the dungeon. Hermione bit her lower lips nervously, feeling bad about judging him like that even though he argued otherwise. She glanced at him and found him donning the same neutral expression he often does. She didn't know whether he was offended or not.

"Granger, shut up," he said softly, breaking the silence, "I can hear you thinking. I'm not offended."

Hermione opened her mouth but closed it. Trying to go to a lighter territory, she asked, "Then who was your favourite DADA professor?"

"Professor Snape," Malfoy replied instantly, drawing an eye-roll from Hermione, "How about you?"

"Professor Lupin" Hermione replied and smiled fondly at the memory of the deceased professor, "A balance of theory and practise."

He hummed in response.

"Wait a minute Malfoy. I just realised one thing," Hermione said, after a moment of companionable silence, "You give students warning half the time but all your detentions are Potions related. Not essays but cauldron cleaning or collecting things."

A pale eyebrow raised and with a smirk on his face, he tilted his head to glance at Hermione before looking ahead.

"You're using them!"

"I'm not using them, Granger. It's called strategising." He replied nonchalantly.

"Giving them warnings so they hog the dungeons and detentions to the ones—I assume—to the ones who are caught too many times," Granger continued, glaring accusatory daggers at him.

"Correct observation Granger," He said, the smirk widening. He turned to face her with mischief twinkling in his eye, "You being a strict professor just help me."

"You cunning snake!" she countered although a smile betrayed her lips and her eyes lightened up. Malfoy turned on his heels and continued walking before she heard him

"I'm not a hormonal teenager Granger. Patrolling the castle ruins my sleep and its bloody cold. I just didn't want anything to be... fruitless," he looked over at his shoulder to meet her eyes; the playfulness in his voice and the deviltry in his eyes were evident, "I am cunning. Don't forget I'm a Slytherin."

Even though she wanted to rebuke him, she ended up laughing at his way of getting even with hormonal students.

Hermione arrived 15 minutes early at the Potters' house. It was the weekend and the day she agreed to meet up Ron with Harry and Ginny. Once again when she stepped out of the fireplace, she was enveloped in an emotional hug by Ginny, moaning how much she missed the curly-haired professor.

Harry arranged the living room table with snacks and drinks; three bowls of strawberries for Ginny, treacle tarts, cauldron cakes and hot cocoa. When Hermione's eyes lingered on the explosion of sweets on the table, Harry only pointed at Ginny who replied that she felt like eating sweets. The three caught up with everything that happened over the last two weeks. The Potters' happily announced that George agreed to their unborn child's godfather, a secret they have kept from everybody, including Ron.

It was in the midst of the conversation that the bright green light of the floo lighted up and a redhead walked out of it. Hermione stood up immediately as Harry and Ginny ran to embrace Ron. She walked towards him, waiting patiently for Ginny to tell him how much she missed him before the blue eyes of Ron met her brown ones.

"Ron, how are you?" Hermione asked, moving forward to give him an awkward hug. She felt him stiffen under her touch and she thought he would push her away. She eased her mind when Ron relaxed and returned her hug.

"I'm good Mione. How are you?" Ron asked with a very small smile, Hermione noticed, that didn't reach his eyes.

Before they could continue their conversation, Ginny dragged them to the couch, sitting beside Hermione. She placed the bowl of strawberries on her lap as she started the conversation and soon enough the four of them fell into comfortable conversation. Hermione felt the nostalgia as they talked, something remnant of the way from three years ago, even though everything was different now – Harry's eyes glistened with the prospect of being a father; Ginny had a life inside of her; Hermione was a professor and Ron seemed quieter.

Hermione was not the only one who noticed the change in Ron as Ginny abruptly cut the conversation to exclaim, "Ron, are you okay? You look tired."

Ron did look tired, Hermione noticed—he always did when he came back home after a mission. His skin was slightly waxy, eyes a bit sunken, the lustre of his red hair was lost and his freckles were stark against his skin.

"More like bloody exhausting." He replied, "Some of the people I was chasing were bloody idiots. Their duelling skills were worse than 12-year-olds."

"So you took 3 months to finish the mission?" Ginny teased.

Ron shook his head, "I said some of the people were idiots not all of them. Try fighting two half-giants and deranged wizards by yourself Ginny."

"Half-giants?" Harry asked eyebrows raised and eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Yeah, half-giants but also half idiots," Ron replied, shrugging and Harry slumped back slightly into the couch. He looked at his best friend, giving him a lopsided grin before asking, "Desk job draining your energy?"

"More like killing me. My co-workers are brilliant but they're killing me." Harry replied, "Jacob's the worst drunk, did you know?"

Harry looked at his redhead best friends whose smile was now smug. Out of the three, Ron was the most sociable while Hermione and Harry rarely attended loud get-togethers. Although Hermione's observations helped her, Harry remained oblivious to many gossips and rumours.

"You already knew that?" Harry asked surprised.

"Everybody knows that Harry. What all have you learned? That Olivia and Jacob shag everywhere in the Ministry? That Luke got his Italian girlfriend pregnant 6 months back? Or that Alfie steal tea bags from the Auror's stock room?"

"What?! When did you find that out?"

"Everybody knows that Harry, it's an open secret," Ron replied, patting his friend's shoulder in condolences. Harry slumped back into the couch, groaning into his hands as Ginny and Hermione giggled.

"I don't know why Alfie even steals the tea bags," Ron said. When Ginny gave me him a questioning look, Hermione answered, "Ministry tea bags are disgusting."

The sun was dipping beneath the horizon when Hermione left her friends' place. She Apparated to Hogsmeade, rather than flooing to the staffroom. It was the weekend and students swamped the streets and shops. Hermione slid between them to Tomes and Scrolls, a shop that always smelled of old parchment and chamomile tea—something the owner always indulged in.

Squeezing past the customers, she moved to the corner of the shop that stocked books on charms. Sifting through her books for a few minutes, she plucked it from the shelf, happy that the book she was looking for was available and turned around to face the crowd. Though the shop held only academic and non-fictional books, it was comparatively tamer than the bookshop across the street with fiction and other books. Shutting her eyes for a brief moment—to not look at the other shelves and get sidetracked—she moved to the counter.

Hermione exhaled loudly when she exited the shop. Clutching her book close to her chest, she started walking to her next destination when she saw a patch of platinum blonde hair. Malfoy was standing outside Honeydukes with a small brown packet in his hands, what Hermione assumed was toffees. She walked towards him when their eyes met.

"Draco Malfoy has a sweet tooth," Hermione exclaimed when she reached him. They both started walking, though she didn't know exactly where but she kept the quill shop in her mind.

"I always had a sweet tooth, it shouldn't be a surprise." Malfoy replied, a small smile on his lips, "But don't forget you've got a terrifying affection for books"

Hermione chuckled in response, "My affection for books isn't terrifying." She poked him with the edge of her book when he simply raised his eyebrow at her, "where are you going anyway?"

"Scrivenshaft. You?"

"Same place"

Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop was the same proportion as Tomes and Scroll although it was neater and tidier than the bookshop. There was always a faint smell of feathers and ink in the shop; the arrangements were neater and it was mostly empty than other shops—even on days students visited.

The owner of the shop swivelled on her feet from behind the counter when she heard the door open; the perfect smile adorning her face. Upon seeing the brunette and white-blonde, her eyebrows rose in shock and her expression faltered a little.

But before Hermione could even raise an eyebrow to question her, the owner etched the smile on her face again and happily chirped to them like they are any other customers.

The two professors nodded at her before walking to the far end of the shop quietly, away from her vision. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. She glanced at Malfoy, wondering whether it was seeing either of them or seeing both of them together that caused the confusion for the owner. Muttering to herself about how unfair things can be, she scanned the shelves for a new quill.

A small tug on her hair caused her to squeak out a yelp. She turned to find Malfoy holding the end of her hair with amusement on his face.

"You're muttering like a deranged witch," he said softly, "Stop thinking about the owner's reaction."

Hermione blinked at him, "How did you know what I was thinking?"

"You're horrible at hiding your emotions." He gave a short laugh, "You're not a natural."

"Horrible! What you mean I'm horrible at hidi—"

"You've to think about wearing a mask. And you take time to wear one."

Hermione looked at him with knitted eyebrows and her lower lip stuck out. She knew that, but with the amusement glistening in his eyes, she didn't want to admit anything. Instead, she stepped forward, craning her neck slightly, "Don't you have to think about wearing a mask?"

"No, it's basically second nature." Malfoy twirled the hair around his finger and she noted the contrast of hazelnut brown on alabaster.

"You're cold-hearted that's why," she replied, peeling her eyes away from the curls on his finger, to poorly jab at him.

"I'm cold-hearted?" he asked, a delighted smirk on his lips, "If I'm cold-hearted then you're a fiery lioness."

Hermione paused for a split second but remembering the mask, she smirked, "A fiery lioness? Malfoy, you've gone soft."

"A fiery lioness's not good at hiding emotions," he replied, his finger curling slightly on the strand of hair.

"It's better than the cold-heartedness."

He looked at her, both his eyebrows raised. He uncurled his finger and let go of the curl. Hermione watched as he followed the movement of the curl before he looked at her. The amusement on his face was replaced by a smug smirk, "Well Granger, if you want, you can consider that a compliment."

Hermione rolled her eyes as he chuckled.

They both quietly went back to getting themselves quills. Hermione settled on a black-and-gold quill with a gold nib. It was similar to the first one she bought but was more durable. She twirled the quill between her fingers and absentmindedly glanced at her companion.

A fiery lioness.

Hermione felt her cheeks colour at the way he called her that and how her curls looked on his finger.

Hazelnut on alabaster.

Shaking her head slightly, she walked to the counter, Malfoy following three steps behind her. He held an emerald-and-silver quill with a silver nib and a smaller turquoise blue-and-green quill with a blue nib.

As they completed paying, the tinkling of the brass shopkeeper's bell filled the almost empty shop. From the corner of her eyes, Hermione could only note the green leather and maroon fur for a brief second before a familiar shriek filled the shop.

"What a lucky day!"

Hermione turned to face the witch but was met with a bright flash of white light, which seconds later she noted was cameras flash. Finally registering the gleeful look in Rita Skeeter's eyes and the stretched red-painted lips, Hermione resisted the urge to groan and shove past the witch out of the shop. Instead, she gave the beetle a small smile and quickened her purchase, trying not to give away her intention as she placed the package as gingerly as possible inside her bag. Malfoy did the same, his lips pursed tight.

Before either of them could move, the reporter stepped forward and the photographer, Bozo, blocked the doorway.

"Ms Granger, how good to see you!"

Hermione gave her a wary smile.

Skeeter looked behind Hermione to give an ear-splitting smile to Malfoy—like the cat that ate the canary smile.

"I didn't know both of you are friends," she said conversationally.

Hermione felt the familiar tug on her hair and she responded by softly kicking her heel on his shoes.

"I'm sorry but we've to return to Hogwarts," Hermione said, trying to pretend that the person in front of her was a daft member of the board who didn't know that elves weren't slaves.

Skeeter gave another cat ate the canary smile, "But you've another hour for the curfew. Or are both of you not part of the teachers accompanying the students?"

Hermione gritted her teeth together. Merlin, this witch's adamant!

Before either of the two professors could come up with a response, a bunch of students slammed the door open, pushing Bozo forward who, tumbled and bumped into Skeeter. Malfoy pressed his hand on the small of her back and the both of them scooted away from the press, giving a light scolding to the students before rushing out of the store. Their steps were fast and after walking for a couple of metres, they slowed down.

"I suppose you don't have any shopping to do right?"

Malfoy looked at her, both of them slightly breathless. He shook his head before offering his hand, "I can Apparate both of us near Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded before placing her hand on his. Within a few seconds, she felt the familiar pull and pressure of Apparition

A/N:

I made Ginny's character slightly more emotional since she's pregnant cause otherwise, she's a total bad-ass. So, hormones.

Secretly I think Crookshanks would be a totally epic counsellor.

Review~