Author's Notes:

Look, another update! ;-) This time, it's a quiet chapter, focussing on Draco and Hermione reconnecting after the initial therapy session with Dr Pendry.

I do hope the chapter calms a few minds in regards to Draco's characterisation, because I think a few people misunderstood a few earlier scenes, given the reviews I received. He never hated her, he just wanted answers, and he has them now...

My thanks:

a) to Musiclover19 for proofreading the chapter! *hugs* I love reading your comments...

b) to my usual bunch of wonderful ladies and their patience when listening to my ramblings and my doubts. Debbie, Linda, Katie, and Evora, love you all! :-**

c) to anyone reading and leaving a review! I love reading them, and they usually make my day! THANK YOU!

Now enjoy!

PS: With this chapter, the story is over 100k now on FFN. ;-)

Chapter 24 – Catching Up

"Flying? Really?"

Draco was just landing in the empty Quidditch stadium; the Wasps hadn't minded letting him do a few rounds on his own after they had finished their training. After years of burying himself in his work, almost forgetting everything else, it had been surprisingly liberating to feel the cold air on his face and fingers.

"Why not?" Draco said as he climbed off the broom, pushing a strand out of his face before he joined Blaise at the edge of the pit. "I felt like it."

"Sure," Blaise replied with a sceptically raised eyebrow. "The session with Dr Pendry went well then?"

Draco walked to the player exit to bring the broom back to the equipment manager's office. The therapy session had been one reason why he felt like flying a few rounds. "Hermione was there as well..."

"What?" Blaise pulled him back in surprise. "Why?"

"I thought it was necessary." Draco pushed Blaise's hand off his shoulder to continue his walk down to the broom office. "And you know what? It helped. It was hard, but it helped."

Blaise had to fasten his steps to be able to keep up with Draco. "Mate, I'm glad you're finally able to put everything behind you."

Draco chuckled at Blaise's words. "Putting everything behind me is one way to say it. It's not done with a single session, but we're working through it. We'll see what comes out of it."

Arriving in front of the broom office, Draco turned around, briefly smirking as his friend caught up with him. He knew that Blaise was relieved that he had found closure after all those years—and it was a closure of sorts—but he wouldn't agree with any further plans of reconciliation between him and Hermione.

"You finished with your rounds?" the equipment manager asked politely, coming over to take the broom and put it away.

With a brief smile, Draco nodded, handing the broom to the manager. "Thanks again."

"So, you just see each other like once a week and talk about what went wrong?" Blaise asked as they walked towards the exit of the stadium. "What about the place you had prepared for her? You just give it to her like that?"

Draco only stopped once they were outside the stadium, brushing through his hair that was tousled from the wind, staring at Blaise with narrowed eyes. "Why would you care what I do with my private property? If I want to keep her safe, then I will."

"Fine." Blaise huffed and made a few further steps. "Then don't talk about it."

"Blaise, stop." Draco caught up with him, even blocking his way. "Look, she did apologise and I have the answers I wanted. And to be honest, we were both to blame for the break-up."

"What do you mean? She left you, after all."

"Yes, she did," Draco retorted, barely able to keep a frustrated growl from escaping. "She made a mistake, but so did I. That's all I'm going to say today."

"Alright." Blaise sighed in defeat. "Just... Just be careful, okay?"

Draco nodded. "Anything else you wanted to discuss? I didn't have the impression it was just about the session..."

"Fancy a stop at the new coffee place around the corner? I need your advice in regards to some stuff happening in the company..."

"What stuff?" Draco didn't like the evasive tone in Blaise's voice, as it set off an alarm in his head.

"Nothing big yet. Just an increasing amount of accidents and reports of malfunctioning equipment in the factory halls."

"Injuries?"

Blaise shook his head to Draco's relief. "Thank the gods, no. But it looks like we might have to close hall one for safety concerns. Draco, we can't have that happen with Christmas sales coming up!"

"No coffee. Let's go straight back to the company..." And with fast steps, Draco walked straight to the next Apparition spot he knew in the vicinity of the Wasps stadium.

..

"You made it."

Slightly nervous, Draco couldn't help but show a soft smile when Hermione opened the door the next evening. He didn't quite know what to expect of the evening, but he was hoping for a more relaxed one now that the tension between them had mostly gone.

"Come in... It's cold enough outside." She stepped aside to let him enter.

"Thanks. I even brought a bottle of wine that I thought would go nicely with your plans to cook risotto." He offered her the bottle he had been carrying in his hand until now; he smirked in amusement as her eyes widened in surprise at the label.

"You shouldn't have!" Her cheeks blushed as she closed the door behind him, her eyes still fixed on the label. "Merlin, this is an expensive one, as far as I can tell."

As he took his coat off, Draco noticed Tibby on the stairs; she was looking at him with an exasperated expression. "I thought that as a guest tonight, I should bring something."

"You're not just a guest, okay?" she replied, finally looking up again, her cheeks still reddened, before she turned around to walk to the kitchen at the other end of the corridor. "I'll go see if I can find the opener..."

"Mistress won't let Tibby help in the kitchen tonight," the house-elf complained in a quiet voice, glancing over to the kitchen as she accepted his coat to hang it up in the wardrobe. "Tibby is here to cook and take care of Mistress..."

"Let her do it, Tibby. It helps her, and maybe it helps us all." With a chuckle at the elf's continued exasperation, Draco followed Hermione into the kitchen. After what happened in that room the last time he was here, he hesitated to enter; so instead, he watched her from the door.

She was wearing her old Gryffindor shirt over a pair of wide-cut black slacks which gave her a relaxed look. It was almost like watching the lioness he remembered, except that she looked more tired these days. He felt a little nostalgic pang in his chest when he realised that they both no longer were the people they used to be. They both had changed too much.

"Ha!" Hermione exclaimed as she finally managed to pull the cork out of the bottle with one concentrated pull, smiling proudly in his direction. "And yes, I could just have done it with my wand, but it's so much more satisfying this way."

"You always did it this way," he replied, stepping into the kitchen as she poured a small amount of wine into one of the glasses on the counter to have a tasting.

"Hmm... rich and smooth."

Moments later, they both had a full glass of wine in their hands, raising it to a toast.

Playing with the first sip of wine in his mouth, Draco had a look around the kitchen. The atmosphere was so different tonight to the last time he was here. No longer so tense, but more relaxed now that everything had been let out between them. Nothing was looming over them any longer, giving them a chance to breathe. And he was glad to see that Tibby had managed to bring the kitchen back to order after his magical outburst had shattered everything.

"You look better," she said, breaking the silence, swaying her glass. "I mean, better than during the therapy."

He nodded, leaning against the counter and his arms crossed in relaxed manner. "I barely slept after... you know. The whole thing just kept circling through my mind again and again. But I'm really glad that you came."

"And I'm glad you agreed to us cooking dinner. It means a lot to me, because you could just have said no after everything."

He nodded before he took another sip of his wine. Of course, he had been surprised when he had discovered the note on his kitchen table, yet he had appreciated her effort of sending a written invitation. During their relationship, they had frequently cooked together as it gave them a frame for couple time—a time of talking about their future, their goals, their respective families and their expectations, and sometimes their past as well. Fond memories, for the first time in years.

Fond memories of intimacy and peace.

"You look exhausted, though," he said as he lowered the glass. "Nightmares still?"

With a sigh, she placed her glass back on the counter before rubbing her face briefly.

"Yes, to be honest," she said, exhaustion in her voice. "It's like, every time I close my eyes, I can see those faces again, that moment just before I... I..." She flexed her fingers unconsciously. "I mean, it's okay during the day, I can distract myself enough with reading, some telly, or visiting the Burrow. But I now I'm scared to fall asleep, to relax."

At first, Draco was surprised at her open and honest reply, but it was immediately replaced with a growing worry. That was why he put his glass down on the counter, next to hers, before he offered his hand for comfort.

"Don't you talk with anyone about it?"

Ignoring his hand, she hugged herself and shook her head. "The boys are still busy with the case, and I don't want to scare the others off with the details."

He got up from his leaning position and came closer, reaching for one of her hands. "I've seen enough to know that it must have been horrible..."

She didn't protest as he pulled her into an embrace; instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist with a deep breath. "It was hell, Draco. I had to kill people."

He put his arms around her shoulders, sheltering her from the outside for as long as she needed it. "I know. But it wasn't your fault, okay? You did what you had to in order to survive."

"They were innocent!"

"You are too. You had no choice." It was a weird déjà-vu for Draco, because she had once used the same words to calm him on one of his bad days. "You are stronger than you think."

"I don't feel strong..."

"You're not alone."

A small sigh escaped her before she looked up, a weak smile on her lips. "Thanks."

"I mean it. You can always send Tibby to find me, or you can come over to my place if it makes you feel better..."

"I don't want to be a b–"

"You're not."

"Draco," she said, reluctantly breaking off the embrace to have a better look at him. "I can't ask for that. We barely managed to–"

"Hermione, I still care about you." He reached for her hands that were lingering on his sides. "Whatever you need, you can ask for it. Don't worry about the situation between us when you don't feel well, okay? You've been through hell, so you have all the right to ask for help if you need it. Just let me know..."

She stared at their twined hands for a seemingly long time, until a smile finally curled up her lips. "You know, you haven't told me your address yet..."

"Just remind me to write it down before I leave tonight." He was relieved that she was calming down again, after all, he hadn't meant to stir things up this much. "Now, what about you enjoy another glass of wine while I cut up everything?"

She raised her eyebrow, and then nodded. "You were always better with the onions."

"I told you, the trick is a modified Bubble Charm," he replied with a chuckle and let go of her hands. He then Summoned everything he needed to cut up the vegetables for the risotto while she reached for the bottle to fill her glass up again.

"I'm sorry for ruining the mood of the evening... After all, Dr Pendry said we should focus on the good things we had–"

He cast the Bubble Charm over the board with the onions, and then he looked at her, the knife ready to start cutting. "She suggested it... But then, I asked, didn't I?"

She nodded before she drank some of her wine, watching him over the rim of her glass. "Is it the same for you? I mean, with thinking back? Every time I remember something from our time together, I can't help but feel some sort of pang in my chest."

For Draco, it was the same—whenever he thought about those six years they had spent together, it was always tinted with the feeling of loss. Even though the situation between them had changed, the memories were no longer happy ones, only vague reminder what it had felt like to be happy.

"It is," he said, concentrating on the onion to avoid cutting into his fingers. "I usually distracted myself with the work at the company. There was always something to do..."

"Yeah, I get that. I did the same as Auror. I was usually the last to leave and then amongst the first to show up again the next morning. I was glad that Harry gave me my own office."

"I'm glad he kept an eye on you." Careful not to destroy the Bubble Charm, Draco pushed the cut-up onion to the side to cut up the celery she handed him. "Can I ask you something?"

She nodded hesitantly, and he thought she was even holding her breath to some extent.

"Why did you tell him about... you know... your creature?"

He could hear her let out the breath in a gasp at his question, only to watch her gulp down the rest of the wine in her glass from the corner of his eye. However, he wasn't asking out of spite, even though he knew that the question was difficult to answer.

"You don't have to answer; I'm just curious, okay?"

She shook her head as she put the empty glass down. "I don't know, really. I just needed someone to talk to, and I trusted him the most in that situation. Were you mad when you found out?"

Draco chuckled as he nodded. "Quite a bit, actually."

However, the talk and the following therapy session had helped him find a form of peace, even closure. All was said that needed to be said between them, and he no longer felt the urge to cling to his anger. He wanted to let go of it and move on, starting tonight. He knew that anger didn't dissolve over night, but this evening was a first step towards it, and he was willing to take it. Even more so as Hermione tried her best to make it up to him by being open and honest.

"Why can I imagine you two shouting at each other?"

"Because we did?" As he was finished cutting up, he leaned sideways against the counter to have a look at her. It was obvious that she had expected a worse reaction from him, so her smile grew bigger as the tension left her.

"Can I ask you how you found out about it?"

Draco reached for his wine glass to have a sip and also just to gain a few seconds before answering. He didn't know whether he would have found out without the information from the succubus, but it wasn't something he wanted to talk about. "I was lucky."

She nodded in silent acceptance, but it was clear that she wanted to know more. "Were you in the audience?"

He raised his eyebrow before he nodded slowly. "I saw a couple of fights, yes. But not yours, if you meant that."

A sad smile curled her lips as she sighed. Biting her lower lip then, she reached for the wine bottle to refill her glass before she offered it silently to Draco who was watching her.

"What's the next step in the recipe?" he asked, mostly to change the subject. He did admire her composure in that moment after everything she had been put through, but he was still surprised that she hadn't yet sought professional help to deal with her experiences, like she had after the War to get over her nightmares and panic attacks back then.

"The mushrooms. We need to cut them up as well, and then boil them for a few minutes..." She gladly accepted the change, and went to the table to check the recipe. "Yes. It says ten minutes."

"Then let's get started. I'm hungry."

..

By the time Tibby was allowed back into the kitchen, they had finished the dinner and were sitting comfortably close together at the table—Hermione sat sideways with one leg under her, facing Draco, while he leaned back, constantly resisting the urge to just place his arm behind her on the chair; meanwhile, the house-elf prepared a small dessert.

"So, we're in Spain to discuss a deal that would allow us to sell our products in the country," Draco started, smiling at the eager expression in Hermione's face. Her head was slightly tilted to the side, and she kept playing with her lower lip. "The Spanish Ministry is a pain to deal with. It was just Blaise and me... well, and a translator who even showed us around a bit."

"A woman?"

He chuckled, and then nodded. "I mean, we could have just used a translation spell, but..."

"Oh, you liked how she looked. I get it." She laughed, shaking her head.

"Well, she was nice to look at, and she knew the best places around the country. But she was no you."

With an apologetic smile, she reached for his hand and twined her fingers with his. "What happened then? Did you end up in a compromising situation?"

Understanding her gesture, he squeezed her hand. "Well, no. Not a compromising situation per se. But we were close to end up in jail because of a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?"

"Yes. Blaise is going to kill me if he ever finds out I told you about this... So, we were in this joint that only the locals frequent—at least that's what the translator said. We didn't know, however, that the place was going to be raided that evening."

"No way!" Laughing once more, she leaned forward, until her head came to lie on his shoulder. "Reminds me of the week we spent in Italy... Remember? You only went to buy some stuff for a late breakfast, and I had to get you out of a situation."

"Oh Merlin, yes! Italy!" Now Draco laughed as well as he remembered that vacation at the coast in Northern Italy. That was the one time he really should have used a translation spell—that and the fact that someone had recognised the already faint Dark Mark on his arm had caused him quite some trouble. "Haven't been there in ages."

"I was in Rome once, some collaboration between the Auror Departments. Had the best spaghetti ever. Gods, it was so cliché, but one of our Italian co-workers invited us to his place, and his mother made dinner... The boys had the worst hangover the next day."

He chuckled at her devious smirk that followed her story. The whole evening had been a remarkably comfortable experience so far, and he felt home for the first time in years because he was back in the place where he belonged, at her side.

"Dessert is ready for Mistress and Master Draco to eat." With a proud smile, Tibby brought the plates to the table. "Panna cotta, as Mistress has wished for."

"She begged to be allowed to at least prepare one thing for tonight," Hermione explained with a warm smile as he raised a questioning eyebrow. Instead of letting go of his hand, she reached for her spoon with her other hand. "Thanks for letting her stay with me."

He followed the house-elf's moves on the counter for a moment, noticing how the creature kept glancing at them with a happy smile. "I think she would like us to be together again."

Hermione's cheeks flushed, and she put another spoonful of her dessert in her mouth to gain a few seconds.

He pulled her hand a bit closer to regain her attention, knowing it was a question they had to discuss at some point. There were unspoken hopes between them, and the fear of having them crushed again. "One step after another."

"Yeah," she said with a relieved nod, only to enjoy the next spoon of her dessert with an unsure smile. "You know, I did follow the news about your company... It's impressive what you built up."

Loading his spoon with dessert, he studied her closely for a couple of seconds, having noticed her change of subject into a safer territory. "You think?"

"Oh come on, Draco. Your products are everywhere, not a single wizard or witch who doesn't have one of them somewhere in their pockets or at home. You're basically bringing wizarding society into the twenty-first century, so to speak."

To cover for his slight blushed cheeks at her words, he opted for another spoonful of his dessert. Building his company up had kept him alive over the years, so much that it had become his whole identity by now. So much that he didn't know what to do with himself any longer having so much free time, except for flying a few rounds in the Wasps stadium.

"Don't you feel proud about it?"

"Maybe," he replied with a shrug and a raised eyebrow. After all, he just did what he had to and what others somewhat expected of him, even though the achievements were indeed remarkable.

She raised her eyebrow back at him, her warm and relaxed expression turning more concerned. "Everything alright? You sound like something's on your mind, and I don't mean us this time."

"Everything's fine. Just Christmas coming up, that's all." He had discussed the situation at the company with his friends for the majority of the day after arriving from the stadium. The situation was even worse than Blaise had initially let shine through, and there was no other choice that to close factory hall one before any grave accidents could happen. They could still stem the Christmas sales with just factory hall two, or at least he hoped so.

However, there was a nagging in the back of his mind that had him question the coincidence of it all.

"I'm sure you'll do great," she said, pulling him out of his thoughts, only to shift her position to move closer, their shoulders touching now.

"Thanks."

She played with the spoon in her hand, even slowly licked it clean, although she still had some of her dessert left. "What do you think? We could do such an evening like once a week, trying to remember the good stuff, catching up on other things..."

With her leaning against his shoulder, the urge to just wrap his arm around only grew, like he used to whenever they sat this close together. "I think, next time, you'll need to let Tibby cook."

"I like that, next time."

He nodded with a soft smile.

Next time sounded like a promise—of more moments like this evening, filled with her presence; more moments of his soul finally at peace, of him feeling home.

"Can't wait for it," he whispered, barely audible in the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

Author's Notes (part 2):

I based the cooking instructions on the following recipe: jamieoliver[.com]/recipes/rice-recipes/grilled-mushroom-risotto/