Beta love to CourtingInsanity X

It would seem I forgot to actually post chapter four last week after I had uploaded it - apologies all! The bonus is, this week is a double posting!
Regular weekly transmission will now resume. x

St Thomas Hospital, Muggle Longdon, Sunday lunchtime

Hermione rushed up the hallway of the hospital. She had woken late and been horrified to read about the robbery in the paper. Calling Roger in a panic, she had first established that he and Lloyd were unhurt before asking about Larry and John. She had cried softly when Roger described the seriousness of their injuries. After getting off the phone with Roger she had called the hospital to find out the visiting hours before heading straight there.

Now, as she approached the room where the duty nurse had told her the two men were staying, she saw a door ahead of her open and a man stepped out into the hallway. She stopped short as she recognised him.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?" She looked past him and saw he had exited the room Larry and John were staying in, and eyed him suspiciously. "What were you doing in their room?"

He looked taken aback and slightly hurt at her mistrust. "I heard about the robbery. I went to check on Roger first, and asked where Larry and John had been admitted. I've just been visiting them. I wanted to see the situation for myself."

Hermione wasn't convinced. Deep down she knew she was probably overreacting, but she couldn't help but question his every motive. After all, he had been watching her the last few weeks without her knowledge, despite knowing she wouldn't welcome his presence if she knew about him, right?

She realised he was looking at her closely, and she was suddenly self-conscious. She'd rushed out of the house quickly after speaking with Roger. Was she fully dressed? Did she have something on her face? Her hair was probably more of a fright than usual. Nervously, she ran her hands over her face, before combing her fingers through her hair.

"They're not in fantastic shape, but the healer in the white coat says they should recover with no lasting problems," Draco said. "I'll leave you to it. Take care, Granger." He moved past her and started towards the exit.

"Malfoy." He stopped, just out of arm's reach, and turned back toward her. "The doctor." He looked confused. "A muggle healer in a white coat is usually referred to as a doctor," she explained quietly.

He nodded in understanding. "Thank you." Turning away again, he resumed his steps. Hermione watched him go, feeling a mixture of disquiet, bemusement and… she couldn't quite place the third emotion. He walked tall and straight, with his head high. His suit was perfectly tailored, giving him an air of professionalism and quiet authority, as if he were an accomplished businessman. Shaking her head, she turned back to the doorway, knocking softly before entering.

Draco had initially felt slightly put out at Hermione's reaction to his presence, but reminded himself she had no reason to trust him, and her reservations were entirely justified. Putting his feeling to the side, he had examined her features with concern. She looked distraught. Her eyes were slightly puffy, as if she had been crying, and her face was pinched with worry. He knew how close her friendship was with the two bouncers, and he could imagine how much it would have distressed her to hear of the robbery and their injuries.

He had tried to reassure her, having talked to the healer - no, doctor, he reminded himself - before going in to see Larry and John. He had asked what costs would be involved in their treatment, intending to cover their expenses, and the woman in the white coat had looked at him strangely before saying there would be no cost. He had thanked her before excusing himself to check on the two men.

"Come in!" came the response to his knock. Draco had opened the door to reveal a moderately sized room with four beds. The two on his left were unoccupied.

"Well if it ain't our Draco!" said a slightly nasally voice. "Larry would greet ya, but 'is jaw's all wired up and 'e can't speak."

Draco had turned to his right to greet Larry and John and winced as he took in their appearance. They both looked a mess. Each man was heavily bandaged and bound, and their battered, bruised and swollen faces were testament to the severity of the attack. A flash of anger entered Draco's chest at the sight, and he was more determined than ever to find out the identities of the men responsible.

"Those bastards!" he hissed, striding over to the beds. "I'll find out who they were, I swear it—!"

"Fat chance o' that, lad. The filth in this city can barely find their own arses with two 'ands an' a flashlight, let alone 'alf a dozen scumbags targeting a club. We'll be lucky if they turn up anything useful, even with the camera footage."

"But that's unacceptable!" Draco seethed. "Both of you were seriously injured! Roger and Lloyd were threatened! The business was put in jeopardy!"

John tried to shrug, and winced at the pain in his shoulder. "That's just the way it is. It's London. Businesses are robbed an' people threatened an' assaulted every day. Hardly any of the cases are solved or the offenders brought to justice."

Larry nodded in agreement before picking up a notepad and pen from his nightstand and writing on it quickly. He then held it out to Draco. The note read, Just as long as the bastards don't come back again.

Draco looked up, worried. "Do you think they might? Come back, I mean?" He handed the pad back to Larry, who exchanged a look with John.

"It's possible." John replied. "From what the bobby who came to interview us said, they seemed to know exactly what they wanted and where to get it. He reckons at least a couple of 'em had probably visited the club before, posin' as patrons so they could scope the place." He rubbed his good hand over his face in frustration. "There's a good chance it was a one-off and they won't be back. But there's also a chance they'll try an' hit us again while me an' Larry are flat on our backs. If that happens, the club's as good as finished. Our regulars will start gettin' nervous and word will get around. Insurance will raise the premiums and Rog won't be able to cover them. We'll be sunk."

"Not bloody likely," Draco growled. "If they come back, they'll wish they hadn't."

John snorted in amusement, and Larry made a muffled noise that might have been laughter, which made him wince and clutch his hand to his face.

"An' what do you plan to do to stop 'em, Draco?" John challenged, smiling. "You gonna dazzle em with that pretty mug o' yours? Charm 'em into submission?"

Draco pretended to preen, sweeping his hair back and affecting a haughty expression. "Actually, I thought I might just look down my nose at them in disgust. They would feel thoroughly ashamed of themselves, apologise profusely, and leave immediately."

Larry and John exchanged a look and rolled their eyes at each other.

"All jokes aside, these are dangerous men with some serious muscle," John continued quietly. "Larry and me have been in this line o' work for a long time, we've been in our fair share of scraps and taken our fair share of licks, but nothin' like this." He gestured to the room they occupied. "They got the jump on us before we could react, and even if we'd 'ad time to react we were well outnumbered. They were organised, in an' out in a matter of minutes. They're not to be taken lightly. No one wants to see anyone else get hurt."

Draco nodded in response. "I've talked to Roger. I have some old school mates I can call on to ask for help. Security isn't their usual line of work, but we had to look out for each other and most of us played sport for our house teams. I know it's not much, but a few extra people to stand in while the two of you recover will help keep the club open."

"You're a good lad, Draco, but don't go getting yourself into trouble. We don't fancy sharin' a room with you, do we, Larry?" John had turned to Larry, who shook his head.

"I'll come by and annoy you both as often as I can in lieu of taking up accomodations alongside." He smirked. Preparing to leave, he asked, "Is there anything I can get either of you?"

Larry picked up his pad, scribbling, and handed it to Draco, who read it and laughed. A bottle of Whiskey would hit the spot! The note read. "When do you think you'll be allowed to go home?" he asked the two men.

"Should be out of 'ere in a couple days. After that it'll be a lot of sittin' on our bums an' watchin' daytime telly until we get the all clear to work again," replied John.

"And how long will that be?" queried Draco.

"At least a month. Maybe more, depending on what the doc says."

Draco had sighed and shook his head, frowning again at the situation in front of him. "Well, if there's anything I can do for either of you in the meantime, just let me know."

"Thanks, Draco. You're not bad for a bleedin' toff," John teased.

Grinning, Draco shook each man's hand before bidding them farewell and leaving the room, where he had run into Granger.

Thinking back to how upset she had clearly been, he didn't want to leave without checking to see she was okay. There was a waiting room near the enquiries desk where he had asked for directions to John and Larry's room earlier. He decided to remain until she came out, and settled down in one of the hard plastic chairs to wait.

Hermione knocked softly on the door to Larry and John's room.

"Come in!" called a muffled voice.

She turned the handle, entered the room and took in her surroundings, much as Draco had not long before. Turning to face them, she gasped and covered her hand with her mouth. She began to tremble, and silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she was faced with the reality of the men's injuries.

"Oh, now, no tears!" John chided, gently. "A few days in 'ere, then we'll be sent 'ome an' can start annoyin' our wives properly."

"But-but look at you!" Hermione sobbed, moving over to stand between their two beds. "You must be in so much pain!" She reached out to hug John, mindful of his left shoulder which was supported by a large sling, before turning to embrace Larry.

"Not so much pain," John tried to reassure her. "The painkillers take the edge off. We're more uncomfortable than anythin'."

Larry picked up his notepad and began to scribble again, then handed it to Hermione. Good drugs they are, too, but the nurse won't give us any booze, she read. Looking up from the notepad, she couldn't help but give Larry a look, causing him to hide his face in mock fear of her wrath. Despite her worry, she smiled slightly at his antics.

"Ahh, see? That's better. More smiles from you, miss. It'll cheer us up," John said.

Hermione settled herself carefully on the end of Larry's bed so as not to disturb John's broken leg. "Will you be away from work long?" she asked.

"At least a month, maybe longer," John answered as he had when Draco had asked the same question earlier.

Hermione sighed sadly. "As much as I want you both to rest properly and get better, I'll miss seeing you every weekend." She paused, mulling over her thoughts. "Will Rog even be able to open for his usual hours? I don't mean to try and replace either of you, but if we can't find anyone suitable, he'll be worrying. Maybe I can ask a few of my friends if they know anybody."

She was thinking of Charlie, who was solidly built and could handle himself after being a Dragon trainer in Romania for the past several years; or Oliver Wood, who was a professional Quidditch player and therefore both alert and fit.

Definitely not Ron or Harry, though, she mused. Ron's far too much of a hothead and Harry's slim stature and glasses would stop people from taking him seriously.

"Draco's offered to try an' get a few of 'is school chums to come 'an 'elp out, too," John recalled. "You both went to the same school, didn't ya? Although I s'pose you didn't run with the same crowds."

Roger had told Larry and John about Draco's early confession, and they had been grudgingly impressed at his honesty and seemingly genuine remorse.

"Draco has offered?" she repeated in disbelief. "Why on earth would he do that? I saw him in the corridor. He said he had come to see how you were getting on. He even said he talked to the doctor." She frowned in confusion.

"'E's not such a bad lad, you know," John said gently. "Sometimes people can change. 'E admits bein' a right foul git when you were at school together, but 'e reckons 'e keeps to 'imself these days. I don't know what 'appened to 'im between school 'an now, but 'e seems kinda-" John paused, thinking for the right word. Larry picked up the pad again and wrote, handing it to Hermione. He seems sad, the note said. Like something bad happened and it's still eating at him.

Hermione suspected she knew what that "something bad" might be. Getting involved with Death Eaters, being partially responsible for Dumbledore's death, being subjected to public trials for his family's crimes, and subsequently being shunned by the majority of Wizarding society could quite easily be considered bad and continue to eat at you. Of course, she could say nothing of this to the muggles she worked with and cared about.

Seeing she looked unconvinced, John continued. "I understand it's 'ard for you to get past the Draco you knew at school, and I don't blame you for not trusting 'im or wanting to talk to 'im. But give 'im a chance, if you can. Form your opinion based on current information, not the past."

Hermione looked up, knowing he was right. It was one of the few arguments she couldn't easily dismiss. Her logical mind knew it was important to always revise what you thought you knew about a subject, and be prepared to change your mind in the face of new evidence which challenged your existing point of view.

She was a case in point - certain pure-blood families holding on to outdated beliefs about muggleborns, and who refused to accept the evidence that the latter were just as magically capable of the former, only held back the Wizarding world. It had hurt her to be judged so superficially, and she grudgingly told herself she should try not to make the same mistake. Still, she thought with minor resentment, now I can see how the purebloods felt, in a way. I don't want to change my view of Draco, because it's the one I'm accustomed to and I'm not sure how I could process a different version.

"I'll try," she said softly.

Just then, there was a tap at the door and a nurse walked in with a tray. "Time for your medications, gents!" she said cheerfully. "Your bones must just about be singing 'Ave Maria' by now!" She set the tray down on the meal table at the end of Larry's bed and checked her notes carefully before distributing a pill cup to John. She then picked up a syringe which she carried over to Larry. "He will need liquid painkillers at first, due to the wiring," she explained to Hermione as she administered the solution.

She had Larry pull back the corner of his mouth, then inserted the nozzle behind his teeth and pushed the plunger. Hermione winced. It looked very painful. The nurse returned to her tray, signed the notes and wrote on each of their charts. She then asked each of them several questions regarding pain and movement, with Larry giving hand gestures in lieu of speaking. Smiling, she made notes on each of their charts before excusing herself and exiting the room.

Taking her cue, Hermione got up to leave. "You should both get some rest," she said. "I'll come back and visit again tomorrow afternoon. Can I bring you anything?" Both men shook their heads.

"Thanks for coming, Hermione. It means a lot." John smiled. "Don't you worry yourself abou' us, we'll be up an' causin' trouble in no time, won't we Larry?"

His companion nodded in assent and gave her a thumbs up.

Hermione carefully hugged each of the men again, holding back tears as she looked them over again. "I love you both, you know. Now get some rest, that's an order."

"Yes, miss." John smirked.

With a final farewell, she stepped out of the room and into the corridor.

Walking toward the exit, she had almost passed the nurses' station when her name was called. Turning, she saw Malfoy tentatively approaching her from the direction of the waiting room. Her first instinct told her to be on her guard, but then she remembered John's words. Give him a chance, if you can.

She resolved to do that. "Hello, Malfoy," she greeted him evenly.

Draco had waited anxiously for Hermione to return. He worried that she would ignore him, or worse, dismiss him outright, when he tried to intercept her. Now he could hear footsteps moving up the corridor toward him, and stood so he had a clear view of who was approaching. As anticipated, Hermione was passing the desk.

Stepping out of the room, he called out, "Granger!"

She turned, and his heart sank at her guarded, suspicious expression. Then suddenly, her face smoothed out and was replaced by a look of cautious curiosity.

"Hello, Malfoy," she replied carefully.

He was suddenly at a loss, having not expected this outcome. She looked like she was actually prepared to give him the time of day, instead of telling him to go to buggery as he'd expected.

"Um-" he stuttered. She continued to look at him, waiting with slight impatience. "Would-" he swallowed "-would you like to join me for a cup of tea? You look like you could use one." He watched as she appeared to consider the offer.

He was sure she would decline, so couldn't conceal his surprise when, after a moment, she softly answered. "Yes, thank you. I'd like that."

"I'm afraid I don't know the area. Is there anywhere you recommend?"

She shook her head. "I don't know this area either, but there's bound to be something nearby."

Nodding, he gestured toward the lifts, and together they stepped forward. The ride down to the ground floor and out of the building was decidedly uncomfortable, with neither knowing what to say.

Once they stepped out onto the street, they were able to distract themselves by scanning the surrounding buildings for a likely place.

Seeing a man in a suit about to enter the building they had just exited, Draco stopped him. "Excuse me, sir, but can you recommend a good cafe nearby?"

The man nodded. "There's a brilliant wee place about two blocks up." He pointed in the direction they were to go. "Take a left when you reach the park and carry on about halfway down the street. It's beside a florist in a small block of shops." Draco thanked the man and he and Hermione set off.

Arriving at the cafe the man outside the hospital had recommended, the pair looked in the window. It was small but cosy, and several customers sat at quaint tables.

Draco stepped forward and opened the door, indicating Hermione should enter first. She nodded her thanks and stepped inside. The room was bright and airy, and a delicious smell of freshly baked pies teased their senses. Moving over to the counter, they peered in at the delights on display in the cabinets and warming drawer.

"Anything take your fancy, loves?" called a voice.

Glancing over the cabinets, they observed a plump, cheery woman with short grey hair standing behind the cash register. Draco turned to Hermione. "Pick whatever you'd like."

Hermione immediately picked up a plate off the counter and opened a cabinet door to retrieve a large cream doughnut, then selected a sandwich from the next set of shelves.

Draco eyed Hermione's doughnut hungrily. "That looks delicious." he murmured. Following suit, he filled his own plate with the same items. Moving down to the cash register, her asked Hermione, "What tea do you prefer?"

"I quite like chai tea, but not all places sell it," she replied, glancing at the woman behind the counter.

"Sorry love, we have Earl Grey, Oolong, Darjeeling or English Breakfast. The other types don't tend to sell here," she apologised.

"Darjeeling will be fine. Thanks." Hermione smiled at the woman, who nodded.

"And for you, love?" she asked, turning to Draco.

"The same, thank you," he replied.

"Righto, love. I'll bring you out your tea once it's brewed. Sit anywhere you like." The woman rang up their purchases. "That'll be eleven pounds seventy."

Draco reached into a pocket, withdrawing several bills, and selected a twenty pound note. Passing it to the woman, he smiled kindly and told her to keep the change.

"That's so kind of you, love! Thank you!" She beamed.

Picking up their tray, he followed Hermione to a table toward the back of the room that was a bit further away from the other diners. He was glad - it would mean they were unlikely to be overheard. They sat, and Draco glanced over at Hermione. He was startled to notice she was scrutinising him closely.

"Did I seem odd?" he asked worriedly. "I find it hard to- well- blend in, sometimes. I'm not accustomed to being in muggle London during the day, with people about."

"Odd only in the sense you told the woman at the counter to keep eight pounds in change." Hermione replied, looking at him carefully. His concern must have shown on his face, because she carried on hurriedly. "There's nothing wrong with the gesture. It's just that people don't do it often when it amounts to more than a couple of pounds."

He nodded carefully. "I see."

Just then, the woman arrived with their tea things on a tray. She set down a silver teapot, two teacups, milk and sugar in the middle of their table. "Here you go, loves. Freshly brewed! Enjoy!" she announced cheerfully.

Draco and Hermione thanked her and she bustled off. Hermione picked up the teapot, removed the lid, and inhaled the scent of the liquid inside. Her contented smile told him the tea must have been perfectly brewed. Replacing the lid, she poured first for Draco, then herself. Picking up the sugar bowl, she added a small teaspoon and stirred gently, before softly tapping the spoon against the rim of the cup and resting it on the saucer.

Draco watched Hermione's delicate and graceful movements as she prepared her beverage, marvelling at how she seemed to make a simple, mundane everyday task seem like a dance. Picking up her cup, Hermione took a small sip and closed her eyes, sighing in satisfaction. Draco found himself enchanted.

Hermione opened her eyes and noticed Draco staring at her. "What is it?" she asked. "Do I have something on my face?" the side of her mouth did that little twitch again.

"N-no. It's nothing." He shook his head. He wasn't about to tell her that her gentle movements and open enjoyment of such simple pleasures as a good cup of tea, combined with her melodious singing voice, had him halfway in love with her already. He picked up his own tea and took a sip. It was delicious.

"No sugar?" Hermione asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Draco smiled. "I used to load my tea with sugar, so much you couldn't taste the tea at all. My mother-" his voice hitched and she looked at him kindly, urging him silently to continue. Taking a breath, he carried on, "My mother used to say it was barbaric to pour so much sugar into one's tea, and was always nagging me to add less. To please her, I began reducing the amount of sugar I used. At first I disliked the stronger taste, but gradually grew to like it. Eventually, I stopped adding sugar to my tea altogether."

Hermione smiled gently at his story. "I saw your mother's obituary. I'm sorry, That must have been very hard for you."

Draco looked down at his cup. "Yes, it was. It still is. Truthfully, I find it hard to talk about still." Awkwardly, he reached for his sandwich and unwrapped it, prompting Hermione do the same. They ate in silence for few minutes.

Hermione finished her sandwich and wiped her mouth delicately with her napkin. She looked like she wanted to speak, but was hesitant to do so. Draco simply watched her, waiting for her to say what was on her mind.

"I-you were the last person I expected to see at the hospital," she finally stated. "I'm sorry if I appeared abrupt. It was a bit of a shock on top of hearing about the robbery." He started to respond and she held up her hand, indicating she wanted to continue. "Larry and John… they seem...well…fond of you. They asked me to give you a chance." Draco looked at her in surprise, and Hermione huffed, looking slightly aggrieved. "John went right for the jugular. He said I should base my opinion on current information and not the past. He knew I wouldn't be able to come up with an argument against it."

Draco was truly taken aback. Although he had a good rapport with the two bouncers, he would never have expected them to come out in support of him so strongly, and he felt absurdly touched that they thought highly enough of him to do so.

"I don't know what to say," he responded. "I could apologise to you a thousand times for the person I used to be and the bad things I've done, but it wouldn't be enough." Pausing to fiddle with his empty sandwich wrapper, he struggled to put his thoughts into words. "I like Larry and John very much. They're open and frank, and both have a cynical sense of humour that I can appreciate. They accepted me, and it's not something I encounter often these days. I want to help any way I can."

"John said you had offered to ask some of your friends to help out on the door while they're recovering," she remembered. "I had had the same idea. Who were you thinking of?"

"My first thought was Theo. Perhaps Blaise."

"Why them?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Theo spends a lot of time in muggle London. He's familiar with all aspects of muggle culture, including how to interact with them as if he were one himself. He has a likeable air and most people get on with him. As for Blaise - well, he could charm the fairies from the trees. I think he'd be fantastic at managing even the worst troublemakers." He smiled slightly at the thought of his friends' characteristics. "Who did you have in mind?" he asked Hermione.

"Definitely not Harry or Ron," she answered, wrinkling her nose.

Draco snorted. "You mean the other two thirds of the golden trio don't have what it takes?" he sniped. Hermione glared at him in response, and he held up his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I thought Potter and Weasley were aurors now? Wouldn't they be good at something like managing the door?"

Hermione shook her head. "They are aurors, but it doesn't mean they'd be suitable for security work. Harry's too skinny and geeky-looking, and there would be a risk patrons wouldn't take him seriously. Ron has no experience with muggles and is far too quick to anger. He'd probably end up getting into a fight."

"If not them, then who?" asked Draco.

"I was thinking of Oliver Wood - he plays professional Quidditch now, for the Chudley Cannons - or Charlie Weasley. He's a dragon tamer in Romania."

Draco perked up. "I had heard Charlie was working with dragons. I would have loved to have asked him all about it if-" he visibly deflated. "If things had been different."

Hermione couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable, but at the same time she felt a small twinge of sympathy for him. He really did seem regretful. "Charlie's pretty easy-going. Maybe I can introduce the two of you some time?" The offer was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

His reaction was altogether surprising - a genuine, faintly excited smile graced his angular features. "I'd really like that. I've always loved dragons." His smile faded as the mention of the mythical creatures triggered the memory of a soft voice. ...love you, my dragon. His heart clenched in pain and he closed his eyes, willing himself to remain in control. He opened them again to see Hermione looking at him with open concern.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "You look a little ill. Shall I get you some water?"

"No-No, thank you. I-" he tried to think quickly of a good excuse. "I get headaches. They come and go, sometimes quite suddenly. I'll be okay."

Hermione looked doubtful. "Well… if you're sure."

Draco tried to smile reassuringly. "I'm sure. Thank you." Eager to change the subject, he attempted to bring the topic back around to how they could arrange cover for Larry and John until they could return to work. "I intend to contact Blaise and Theo tonight and ask them to meet with me. If they agree to help, and if you can convince Weasley and Wood, shall we try and arrange a time for us all to get together to create a plan? It would be easier to put together a schedule that suits everyone that way, rather than having to go back and forth."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Just what I was thinking. I'm sure Charlie and Oliver would be happy to help. Although-" she paused, biting her lip "-I can't help but worry things may be less than friendly between Oliver and three former Slytherins."

Draco sighed. "I suppose I can understand his sentiments. I mean, there's me, for a start-" he looked down at his hands again. "-and as I recall, he was extremely competitive and had no love for anyone in our house."

Hermione snorted. "Your summary of Oliver is an understatement. Harry told me some stories about when Oliver was captain of the Gryffindor team. He said they had to endure long practices in all elements, and were subjected to lectures about how Flint and the rest of the Slytherin team were dirty, underhanded cheaters." She shook her head in exasperation. "Of course, Harry was in complete agreement with Oliver's sentiments regarding Slytherins. But he sometimes resented how hard the team was made to work, especially when they lost a match."

Draco laughed softly. "In all fairness, Flint was no more a fan of Gryffindors than they were of Slytherins. None of us were," he admitted. "And Potter and Wood are not entirely wrong in regards to the sportsmanship of the Slytherin team - or lack thereof. Flint was entirely in favour of cheating and dirty, underhanded tactics, and in fact encouraged us to use them as often as we could get away with."

Hermione looked scandalised. "So you did cheat during matches!" she exclaimed.

"Of course," he replied.

Hermione huffed and snatched up her cream doughnut, which had been sitting forgotten on her plate. Taking a large bite, she scowled at him. Amused, Draco picked up his own doughnut and bit into it delicately. It was soft and fresh, with a generous helping of whipped cream and dusted with just the right amount of cinnamon and sugar.

He watched as Hermione chewed furiously before swallowing. "I can't believe you!" she muttered. There was a small dot of cream on the corner of her mouth, and he was suddenly overcome with the urge to reach out and wipe it away. Instead, he indicated delicately at the corner of his mouth. Still looking at him in disgust, she wiped her napkin across her lips.

"Cheating at Quidditch was not one of my proudest moments," he remarked candidly. "Still, out of the bad choices I made, it was definitely not the worst."

Hermione sighed. "I suppose you're right."

Draco winced at her agreement. While he couldn't reasonably expect a gentler reponse, it still stung, and reminded him that she was still trying to come to terms with who he was now. They finished their doughnuts in silence, neither knowing what to say next.

Draco picked up his napkin to wipe his mouth and hands, then, picking up his teacup, swallowed the last of its contents. He grimaced. It had gone cold.

Hermione looked at her watch. "I'd best be going. Thank you for inviting me to tea."

"Can I walk you back to the apparition point?" Draco asked softly.

She hesitated a moment, and once again he was afraid she would decline. As stilted as their time together had been, he did not want to part from her company, and he found himself relieved when she nodded wordlessly.

Standing, he gathered up the tea things and plates, arranged them on the tray and delivered it to the counter, thanking the woman once more. Returning to their table, he asked, "Are you ready?"

Hermione nodded once again, and together they exited the cafe.

Walking back toward the hospital and apparition point, they were silent. Upon arrival, Draco turned to Hermione again. "May I owl you later, once I've talked to Theo and Blaise?"

"Yes, that would be fine. It may take a bit longer for me to get an answer from Charlie, due to his timetable and the distance. But I should be able to confirm with both of them early next week at the latest."

Draco smiled. "Thank you for coming to tea with me," he said simply.

"You should thank John," Hermione responded frankly. "If not for him and his remark about basing my opinion on current information, I likely would have said no."

Draco winced inwardly. There was that brutal honesty again. It was something he had always secretly admired about her, right from the time they were at school together. Still, being the subject of that brutal honesty was hard to take. "Well… until next time?"

"Until next time," Hermione echoed. With a decisive turn, she apparated away.

Draco stayed a moment longer, fancying he could still smell a slight whiff of her perfume. Sandalwood, he thought, and a slight hint of vanilla. Turning on the spot as she had, he apparated back to the manor.

Well...! Draco and Hermione managed to get through that without any disasters!

I have a craving for a cream doughnut after this chapter...