A/N: Hey guys! Thank you, thank you, thank you for your reviews and everything! When I see in my email that at least one more person is following this story or someone who's reviewing just to ask for more chapters make me really happy. I just want you all to know that I don't want this to be fast, I want it to be as realistic as possible. Because in reality, even though people say there's a fine line between love and hate, you don't really fall in love with someone you hated for years overnight. So this is going to be a slow burning thing. I just want it that when you read it, you'll feel that this, all of these, really happened. But I'm new at this and I might make mistakes, so tell me if it's going too fast or even too slow. Thank you guys!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Wizarding world for that matter. I just love it and Draco and Hermione so much that I made this up.

Chapter 3

A Chance to Find Goodness

October 17, 2000

"Okay."

This time, I give him a genuine smile.

"I didn't expect you to be so agreeable, Granger," Malfoy says with one eyebrow raised. I've never been good at that. It's like Malfoy's specialty – raising eyebrows, smirking, sneering, everything relating to taunting and being sarcastic.

"I didn't expect you to help me back there either, Malfoy," I challenge him, giving him my best I-dare-you-to-dare-me look.

"Fair point," he concedes. That was fast.

"How did you know I needed help, anyway?"

"I thought the man was too loud. And you looked like you were about to throw up or something," he says. "It was a good deal, a win-win. The man shuts up. And you get to keep your puke inside, where it should stay," he adds as a matter-of-factly.

It would make sense, for Malfoy to hate vomit and anything that's unclean – including my blood. Back at Hogwarts, his vocabulary included excessive words of disgust such as filthy, foul, mud… except he hasn't called me anything aside from Granger since we met four months ago. He's even nice enough to rescue me from an overly avid fan.

"Fair point," I repeat his earlier words.

"Well, if you don't want to meet that man again," he says cocking his head to the side. I follow his movement to the door to Flourish and Blotts. "You might want to consider taking this somewhere else."

I sigh.

"You're right," I say, quite frustrated that I have to leave just to avoid a person I barely know.

"See… Agreeable," he says the word again as I pass by him when I start to walk.

He catches up with me as we walk on the cobbled street of Diagon Alley towards the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. Every person we came across with looks at us curiously. At least they're not coming up to me, shaking my hand with both of theirs, and introducing themselves. Malfoy's nowhere near me either. He always keeps a distance of at least one meter from me while we walk. I don't know if I should be offended. Maybe there's little left of that blood prejudice after all. When we reach the brick wall, he starts talking again while I tap on the bricks which quiver under the touch of my wand.

"Why'd you want to get away from that man earlier though? I thought you'd be basking in the spotlight, reveling in the fame," he says mockingly. The hole on the wall's getting bigger.

"First of all," I look him in the eyes. "I hate the spotlight." Now the bricks have completely opened, forming an archway. We step into the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron. "Second, you'd think people would get over it after two bloody years!" Now I'm furious.

Malfoy though, gives me a smirk. He's clearly enjoying this.

"I didn't know you like to curse Granger," he says as he opens the door for me. "Please, tell me all about it."

So I do. I'm so caught up in my tirade that I don't even remember sitting down at one of the tables in the pub.

"I mean, why do they keep on rehashing the past? Digging up rubbles that have already been rebuilt? They're so hung up on the past that they're forgetting to appreciate the present. The present that we've all fought for so hard, that people even died for," I half shout. I barely register the prying eyes of those around us. My own words echo in my head… we've all fought for so hard…Malfoy wasn't one of us, even at the end when they didn't really fight with us. If Malfoy noticed at all, he's very good at hiding it. So I pretend that nothing's wrong and continue, but in a relatively lower voice.

"It's bad enough that the War happened. Now they worship us! Worship us for something that we only thought was the right thing to do. Asking questions about things that are better off forgotten," I finish.

"That was intense," Malfoy says after a while, even more amused. "Have you been keeping this… rage all to yourself?"

"Maybe," I say casually.

Malfoy suddenly stands up and walks to the bar. He looks rather different from normal. He has on a white shirt with no tie and black pants, his black cloak draped over the seat across from mine. All those times I've seen him at the Ministry, he's always worn black all over which makes him stand out even more with his white-blond hair just begging for attention. But today, it's even worse. With that height and slender figure, you can't just look at him without staring. Realizing that it's exactly what I've been doing, I quickly turn away. Before I know it, he's returned with two tankards of drinks.

"Here, drink this." He slides the other one toward me on the table, sees the skeptical look I give him and adds, "It's just butterbeer."

I know it's just butterbeer. I pick it up and down half of it. I feel warmer, more relaxed, and also a bit more daring.

"Why are you here, Malfoy? I mean, talking to me." I finally acknowledge the big elephant in the room.

"We went to the same school." He shrugs.

"We both know that's not good enough," I say, looking straight into his eyes, reminding him that I'm not stupid.

"Maybe I want to be friends," he says seriously then.

"That's suspicious." I narrow my eyes at him.

"There's no ulterior motive here, Granger," he's says sounding like he's rolling his eyes without actually doing it. "I just thought that now that things have changed, I'm allowed to talk to you."

"No one was stopping you. And it isn't like you wanted to talk to me in school either, if talking doesn't include insulting," I tell him frankly. There's no point tip-toeing around this.

"True. But I had different… views back then."

We're silent for a few minutes, sipping our butterbeers. I don't know what to say. I can't help but think that he's playing a game here, like there's a grand scheme that will somehow lead to his victory leaving me exploited in the end.

"Look," he says looking ready to stand up. "If it bothers you that I'm talking to you then I won't. I wouldn't blame you."

He waits for me to say something.

"I'm just saying that I won't fall for any of your tricks," I finally say defiantly.

I see him relax in his seat then.

"Whatever makes you sleep at night Granger," he smirks.

Malfoy wanting to be friends sounds absurd. But I want to believe him – that there's no hidden agenda behind this. Not only him. I want to believe that people are capable of changing and that even the vilest of them have something good in them. For now, what I can give Malfoy is a chance. I hope I don't regret this.