Hello, new chapter for you. All my thank you's to mcal and dreamsofdramione, but this chapter was not beta read because I am a rash person who decided to update today because it's been a good day. All mistakes are my own.

And all my thanks to everyone in fandom that's told me happy birthday!

He wasn't blind, so Draco knew something was wrong. It had certainly been building over the past two weeks, and he'd seen it in her as she went through the motions of each day. And sure, he had thought it strange that she hadn't left their—and that was still hard to grow accustomed to—flat since the public had become to slander her.

The cruel words, the headlines, the accusations, had continued. If anything, they had only grown worse rather than quieting, and while Draco believed sheltering in place was only delaying the inevitable, he wasn't going to tell her that. It was Granger's call, whenever she chose to make it.

After a mandatory morning meeting with Robards and the bulk of the available Aurors, he popped into the sitting room, and his blood ran cold.

Prim as ever, not to mention proper with her legs crossed at her ankles, his mother sat on the sofa. Her hands were clasped, resting against her knee, and across from her, Granger sat in a leather chair that didn't match the room since it had come from her home.

Strangely though, neither of them looked uncomfortable at all.

"Miss Granger told me you would be home soon, and invited me to wait." Narcissa smiled. "Don't just stand there, have a seat."

He moved toward his mother.

She shook her head. "No, not with me. Sit with your bride-to-be, Draco."

Granger scooted over, and while the chair was terribly large—big enough for her to comfortably stretch across with Crooks—it was still a tight fit. Her hip was warm against him, and his fingernails bit into the leather upholstery.

"Your mother was just telling me how she's helping organize Pansy's wedding." Granger fidgeted in place.

Wonderful. She was more uncomfortable with him there than she was to be alone with his mother.

"Are you?" He asked when his brain caught up. "Really, you're helping plan the wedding?"

His mother looked offended. "Of course I am. Pansy has been a close family friend since you were born. Her own father may not be willing to see past his shortcomings, but I'm not quite as close-minded as I once was."

From the corner of his eye, Draco saw Granger's lips part slightly, and her breathing quickened.

Swallowing, Narcissa either didn't see the motion, or she ignored it. "But enough about that. Have the two of you given any thought as to when you'll get married?"

Granger's knee bounced up and down, and it wasn't the sort of thing that could be ignored.

Against his better judgement, Draco laid his hand on her knee, and the signet ring on his finger glinted under the soft light. "We've decided to wait until the deadline, actually."

"Your father thought that would be the case."

"Pardon me," Granger's voice was gravelly as she shifted in the chair, and crossed one leg over the other. "I'm sorry, but this is so bizarre. Mrs. Malfoy, I understand that you're polite, but you can't possibly be happy that I'm here."

His mother blinked, and Draco tensed.

One wrong word from her, and he promised himself that he'd make sure it never happened again.

"Instead of Astoria, I assume?" Narcissa tapped a finger against the back of her hand that was tucked below it. "If my son is happy, then I am happy. I realize this situation isn't what either of you expected, but you've made your choices. Just as I have made my own choice to welcome you into our home."

The way Granger leaned into him was slight, unnoticeable to his mother, but Draco felt warmth bleed through her clothing and the heavy jacket he wore as part of his uniform.

Narcissa continued, "Though I'm not sure why you would be so worried when the two of you were sneaking around Hogwarts for nearly the entirety of your final term."

He choked, and Granger drove her elbow into his side, right between his ribs. "Bloody hell, that hurts!"

Her eyes were wide, and she glared at him. "You told her? I thought—"

"I didn't tell her anything!" Draco ground out, pulling her arm away by gently gripping her wrist. "The fact she knows is news to me."

His mother watched them with thinly veiled amusement. "You can't honestly believe you did a brilliant job of hiding it. I'm your mother, Draco and a mother knows things."

His cheeks heated. If she knew they'd been together, not to mention her description of them sneaking around, just how much did she know?

From the pinched look on Granger's face, she was probably thinking the same thing.

"I suppose you could say that I've had years to warm up to the idea of you, Miss Granger." Narcissa smiled.

Draco counted the minutes until his mother left.

Granger was reading, but the problem was that she hadn't turned the page in ten minutes. From his spot on the sofa, Draco sighed. "What's wrong?"

She glanced up, closing her book as her shoulders slipped slightly. "I haven't left this flat in fourteen days. Isn't that ridiculous?"

Ah, so that's what this was about. "You needed time to process. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I quit a job I loved, and ended a career I thought I would—" Her fingers curled around the book tightly. "Anyone who knows me—or even those who don't—expect me to do more than this, but I can't stop hiding."

Draco stood and crossed the room. He sat next to her and pulled the book from her hands as he tilted her head up. "I cannot stress this enough, but fuck them. You don't owe anyone a single thing, so if you want to stay home, then do that."

"I don't want to be a coward." She tucked strands of hair behind her ears and angled herself toward him. Granger's legs were tucked beneath her. "I…"

"Anything you ever say will stay between the two of us, so if you need to talk, then talk, Granger." Draco rested his elbow on the back of the sofa and propped his head up in his palm. "I'm all yours."

Somehow, that phrase didn't sound entirely innocent, even to his own ears.

Her nose crinkled. "I don't know who I am without my career. It's so—" Her eyes began to water. "It's devastating. I worked so hard with the intent to make a difference, but my own research was used to create this law. Think of how miserable it will make everyone affected and it's all my fault."

Draco realized he wasn't meant to say anything and remained quiet.

"I sit here, in this flat, and wait for my fiance to come home because it's the only human interaction I get." Granger spat, and he worked hard not to linger on the word fiance. "My best friend is getting married, so I don't want to upset him with my sporadic moods. My other best friend tried to call me on the Floo, but I blocked his Floo—"

So, that was why he'd missed Potter's wake up call two days earlier. It had earned him an earful, but he didn't think Granger would see the humour in that currently.

"And then there's the truth that I just feel so alone."

He stilled and the words I didn't know were on the tip of his tongue, but that would ahve been wrong. Of course he'd known.

He just hadn't stopped for long enough to focus on her.

Without thinking, Draco slipped his hand over hers, and threaded their fingers together. "I'm here. What can I do to make you feel better?" He traced the bumps of her knuckles and watched her breath catch. "For better or worse, we're in this together now."

The corner of her mouth lifted. "Did you mean it when you said we could make cookies? Because it just so happens that I ordered a mixer and I'd really love to see you try to use it."

He had no idea what a mixer was, but when she looked at him like that, there was no possible way Draco could tell her no.

Somehow, standing in a kitchen in a flat with her at midnight made sense and maybe it was because it was all he'd imagined when he thought of life after graduation.

Granger's head fell back as she laughed, and he wasn't twenty-four anymore.

He was eighteen and letting her step on his toes while they danced at the top of the Astronomy Tower because she thought he should have better memories than the one he had.

The way the truth barreled into him was unexpected, but on some level, he'd known it was coming. Draco's fingers curled around the edge of the ceramic bowl as she turned on her heel, tying her hair up in the same motion, and he just—he couldn't think.

"Are you alright? You look ill."

There was a smudge of flour on her cheek. Probably from her sleeve and then she'd wiped her face.

He swallowed, and he swore he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. "I regret it."

Frowning, Hermione said, "I'm going to need a bit more information than that."

Fuck. "The night I left you at the top of the Astronomy tower—" the night we snuck out for one last time and I didn't tell you the truth "—I've regretted it ever since."

Her face paled, and Hermione looked away from him. "You don't have to apologize to me. Really, I don't expect you to. Like I've said, it was a long time ago. We were just kids."

We're just kids, and my family expects me to marry, to have an heir.

We can wait. If that's what we want, then we'll decide that together when we get to that point.

No, I'm sorry. I don't want this. I don't want you.

At the time—in the heat of a moment that had made him physically sick for days, he'd said the one thing that was sure to drive a wedge between them that she wouldn't be so quick to pull out. It had been for a good reason, Draco had thought, but honestly, he hadn't believed that for some time.

"No," he gulped. "You might not expect me to apologize, but it doesn't mean I shouldn't."

Hermione took the bowl from his hands and he watched her put the ingredients in before handing it back to him. "Fine. Apology accepted, but really, I don't want to talk about it. We've managed to get along now, and if we bring this up, well, I think we both know what will happen."

"Yeah, last time you threw a bottle at my head."

That earned a smile. "Near your head." She corrected and nudged him toward the counter. "That's the mixer. Think you can figure it out?"

Draco recognized that she was giving him an out by changing the subject, and he seized it before another burst of bravery could rise to cause him to blurt just why he'd dumped her because he knew it wasn't a good reason, and knew she probably already knew too.

Draco set the bowl in place—that much he could figure out on his own. "I missed you." he whispered.

Granger tilted her head to the side, strands of hair falling to frame her face, and he caught the way she slid closer to him.

It's just to show me how to work this infernal muggle contraption.

"Yeah," the syllable slipped past her lips in a tiny breath, and he barely heard it. "I missed you too. Okay, just don't panic when you start it, alright?"

"You're not instilling any confidence in me here."

She giggled. "I admit I'm a little worried. This was expensive, and I had to pay extra for the colour too. Please don't break it." Granger ran a finger over the mint-coloured surface, and shot a pleading look at him. "I know you can buy another, but be careful. Don't stick your fingers in it."

"What?" Her hand was warm over his as she dragged it upward, and she nodded toward the controls.

Draco slid the knob all the way to the right, and it was evidently a mistake.

The mixer began to shake as the whisks started too quickly and batter flew everywhere.

It landed in her hair and he knew it was going to be a bitch to wash out. Batter landed in his hair too, and a spattering of the eggs landed right on top of his head, the yolk dripping onto his forehead.

She burst into laughter. "Oh, my God. This is even better than I could have imagined."

"You knew this would happen, you little witch!"

Backing away, she held her hands up as he moved to grab her.

Thinking it couldn't possibly get any worse, Draco should have prepared for exactly that to happen. However, he lunged for Hermione, and a clump of the batter previously in his hair fell to the tile in a large clump.

"No!" Her eyes widened, and she slammed into him. "It's going to fall!"

To his absolute horror, the appliance had slowly inched toward the edge, and three—two—one—

Draco shot forward, twisting as he did, and he managed to wrap his arms around the irritatingly teal mixer as Granger shouted, but he slipped on the batter.

"Bloody fucking hell—" He growled, and hit the floor with a thud.

The cord was ripped out of the wall, and the stirring stopped.

He was covered.

Laughing uncontrollably, she knelt down next to him, and took it from his hands to set it on the counter. "Are you hurt?"

Draco sat up, and ignored the little catch of breath—though he'd think about it later—as he tugged his shirt up and over his head. "My pride is a little bruised, but I'll live."

She leaned forward, and scooped a bit of batter off his cheek—and it seemed to be the only bit that had been properly mixed—and popped her index finger into her mouth.

Granger's cheeks hollowed as she sucked her finger, probably much slower than she realized, and he nearly groaned. He'd been right. She was going to be the death of him. "I don't think we'll be making cookies, but it tasted good."

He propped himself up on his forearms, and watched her keep her gaze from straying below his face. "You said you missed me too."

"You were my best friend, and more, but to suddenly not have you in any capacity was devastating." Her shoulders fell. "I avoided you, and maybe it wasn't fair, but I was afraid to be close to you again."

He wondered if there was more to it than that.

If it was because she was afraid for feelings that were all too familiar to both of them to resurface.

Draco cleared his throat. "Do you think we could go back to that?"

She grinned. "I think we can manage that now."

Whatever weight had been on his shoulders slipped away, and he managed a nod. "Friends then."

He said the words, but he knew full well that even if they could manage to be close friends once more, Draco hadn't forgotten every single thing about her.

And he knew that he was in so much fucking trouble when she wiped egg off his forehead.

He heard footsteps padding down the corridor as he sipped his coffee. The guest door swung shut, delayed, in her wake, and Granger rounded the corner to see him leaned against the counter.

She wasn't wearing pants, just a long shirt, and if she stretched up on her toes to reach the top counter where he'd stored the cereal—and maybe it was on purpose to irritate her—he'd probably see a glimpse of her knickers. He wouldn't do that, of course, because friends didn't do that.

Friends, he snorted internally. Draco didn't know how long he would be able to fool himself, or how long it would take before he inevitably fucked this up, but he did know that Granger had to be trying to kill him.

"Morning." He lifted his cup in a greeting.

Yawning, she nodded and walked to the counter. "Why do you have to put it so high?" Granger muttered and stood on her toes.

He didn't look.

That wasn't to say he didn't want to because Merlin did he.

"You said you were going to the Burrow today, didn't you?" Granger asked, and he didn't turn to look at her until her feet were fixed solidly back on the ground. "Malfoy?"

"Yes, I am."

"Would you mind if I came with you?"

If he were nicer, like a friend would have been, Draco probably would have warned her about what she would be walking into when it came to Pansy's current dilemma of tying up loose ends for a wedding that was tomorrow. But he wasn't nice, and he really wanted her to come, so he didn't. "Were you planning on putting pants on for that, or is this a private show for me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Somehow, with all the witches you've dated, I don't think you mind my state of undress. Plus, it's not as if you can see much. Oh, no, a bit of thigh! How scandalous. Whatever will you do now that I've ruined my image of innocence?"

"I suppose I'll have to marry you in order to save your reputation."

"If you're going to make a joke about marrying above my station, I would advise against that." The warning came in a low laugh, and a shiver ran down the nape of his neck.

He snorted. "It's probably me who is marrying above my station," Draco murmured. "Shall I get down on one knee right now?"

A dark brow rose and she tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck. "Well, strictly speaking, I never did get an actual proposal."

Draco moved.

"Don't get on one knee," Granger said quickly. "It was a joke. I didn't mean anything by it."

He must not have looked convinced.

"Plus, you don't even have a ring."

In a display of wandless—and non-verbal—magic that took more effort than it was worth, in an effort to impress the witch in front of him, Draco held his hand out and waited for a box to sail into his waiting hand. "A Malfoy is always prepared."

"You don't have to—the Ministry gave us engagement rings—" Granger held up her hand and shoved it in his face. It was a simple band, one that would likely tarnish within a few months.

He cracked the box open, but didn't kneel down for worry she'd knock him over in a haste to get away from him. Draco was pleased when her gaze dropped to the ring and she couldn't quite look away. "I respect that you don't expect a ring, Granger. It wouldn't do though if you didn't have one."

"Because you would never give your fiance such a plain ring," she said. "Even if it was for a sham of an engagement."

The words burrowed deep in his chest and twisted. "Right. I'm a Malfoy, after all."

It had been a chance to correct her, and she'd have believed him if he had, but he'd gone to fuck it up.

She nodded. "It's beautiful."

Draco didn't ask if he could do it, and maybe he ought to have, but he pulled the ring from her finger. Laying it on the counter, he stepped closer to her, and held her hand up as he slid the ring onto her finger. "It looks good on you."

Granger peeked up at him, her lashes dark against her cheeks as her eyes fluttered shut. "Thank you."

He didn't move.

Honestly, he was certain he didn't even bother to breathe, and he couldn't bring himself to pull his hand away from hers. It would have been so easy to thread their fingers together.

Draco wondered if she would let him, if she'd return the motion, or if she would tear away from him. For all his wondering, he couldn't make himself find out. "I have to be there by noon. Is that enough time for you?"

Granger nodded, and he felt her eyes on him as she watched him go.

At his side, she was nervous. Rocking back on her heels as they stood in the kitchen with Molly, Granger let the woman wrap her into a tight hug.

Weasley entered the room not long after their arrival. "Pansy's asking for you."

With a nod, Draco left the room and climbed the rickety stairs. Pansy wasn't difficult to find if he followed the sharp crack of her voice as she barked orders. He found her in a spare bedroom where he recognized Fleur sorting through what he could only assume was a to-do list. "Do you mind if I borrow you?"

Fleur slipped out of the room the first chance she got, muttering under her breath.

"I'm really very busy and I don't have time to chat."

"Granger and I are here to help with the setup, Pansy. Potter will be here soon too, along with the rest of their bloody friends."

Pansy groaned. "God, that's even worse!"

"Yeah," he snorted. "You've got a bunch of Gryffindors setting up your wedding."

Her face reddened and he knew quite well that it wasn't a good sign. "Granger's here?"

He nodded.

Pansy fell quiet. "How is she? Weasley's worried about her, and not just because she's marrying you."

"You still call him Weasley?"

"You still call her Granger?" She mocked. "Answer the question, and tell me honestly. No one has seen her since the Ministry announced this."

Rubbing the back of his neck. Draco sighed. "She seems to be okay in private, but I'm worried about what will happen when she's in public myself, honestly."

"As long as she doesn't run into Astoria, I think it will be alright."

Lead formed in his stomach, and Draco stared at her. "Astoria? Our separation wasn't mutual, but I don't think she's going to—"

With a flick of her wand, the door shut, and she shook her head. "Have you not heard from Theo? I gave him something to give to you."

"No, we were meant to meet for breakfast earlier this week, but I overslept that day. I had a late night, you see—"

She gagged. "Spare me."

"No, not that I don't wish—"

Shaking her head, Pansy put her hands up. "Stop, this is serious. Fuck, I can't believe Theo didn't get it to you. Astoria went to a writer at Witch Weekly last weekend and revealed your relationship with Granger in Hogwarts. She's spun a story that Granger created this marriage shite so she could steal you away."

His blood ran cold. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." It would bring about a second coming of brutal publicity.

"I've managed to block the story for now, but there will no preventing it—"

"There must be someone I can bribe." He hissed.

She laid a hand on his forearm. "I don't think there is this time. You should tell her before she finds out from someone else, or from the magazine itself."

Draco couldn't accept that. "I'll be back in time to help, I promise."

"Draco, you can't—" Pansy yelled after him, but he ripped the door open and hurried down the stairs.

He nearly knocked Granger backward at the bottom. Alone, she looked him over, her brows knitting together in worry. "Draco? What's going on?"

Knowing he ought to tell her, Draco decided against it anyway. "I have something I need to take care of. I'll be back in an hour."

The beginning of a question was on the tip of her tongue, but he was already gone.