Author's Note: Well, I feel a little sheepish. After fervently updating all the stories the last week of February, I've been awful quite since the first week of March. I had business meetings all that week, and came back to the head cold from hell. Worse than that though was the writer's block that set in. I couldn't seem to write anything, except a blog post about how I couldn't write. And this week? Sprained ankle. Been home on the couch for days glaring at my foot and telling it to heal. In response it's gotten slightly less painful and turned a whole bunch of very charming colors—red, blue, purple, yellow. Maybe even a little green. At any rate, I had a breakthrough the other night and this chapter can finally be born. If you want to follow my blog, which consists of adventures in 3D printing, writing, and cooking and is updated rather sporadically, it's HiIMakeStuff DOT wordpress DOT com.

Chapter 39: Sincere

Leaning against the wall, his bare arms crossed across his chest, Draco asked, "Is this really necessary? When will you boys learn that I've mended my ways?" he drawled.

Caffrey and Burke were searching his flat, checking for contraband. "Never," Burke said.

Draco rolled his eyes and shifted on his feet. "I can't do magic. Even if I wanted to violate the terms of my sentence, I physically can't do it. The Wizengammot saw to that." He tried to keep his tone mild. The last thing he needed was to be accused of being threatening and have one of the wizards throw a hex at him.

"You could try to send a letter with your owl, or have someone bring you potions. There are ways around these things," Caffrey said, opening the cupboard and examining the contents. Noodles. Cans of soup. Crisps. Nothing magical or illegal.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "I want my magic back. I haven't used Xavier to send any letters. No one has brought me potions or magical items. I get up, I go to work. I'm leading a perfectly Muggle life." He looked with distaste down at his hands. Doing his own dishes and cleaning his own bathroom had left his hands rougher than they'd ever been in his life, even with Muggle moisturizer, though it wasn't as bad now that he wasn't working at the restaurant. The day he got his magic and vault back, he was going in for a skin treatment. "Can I make you some tea? It will take several minutes for the water to boil, and more for the tea to steep," he pointed out.

"No," Burke said, dismissively. He scanned the room, searching for anything he might have missed. A lot of people thought the Malfoy's had gotten off too easily in all of this. Only one of the three of them in Azkaban. If the younger Malfoy was doing anything to violate the terms of his probation…he was going to find it, and make sure he joined his father.

"Suit yourself," Draco said, taking great care to fill his kettle from the tap and put it on to heat. It always seemed to take an age. "I'm due to get my magic back in three months. How is this going to work? No one has really quite said." He did his best to sound casual. He needed to start making decisions on what he was going to do when he got his magic back. Staying with Hermione was a given. Working for George was tempting. Everything else was up in the air.

"You're due to get your magic back in three months if you don't violate the terms of your sentence between now and then."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Draco said. "And in three months…" He prompted.

Burke slipped his wand into his holster and motioned Caffrey to go back and check the bedroom. The living room and kitchen were clear. "If you keep your nose clean for the next three months, you'll have a hearing with the Wizengammot on August first. They'll listen to what you have to say for yourself, and read over the reports Caffrey and I have written. If they think you've learned your lesson, they'll gather a circle of twelve, and restore your magic. Someone will retrieve your wand from storage. You'll be sent away with reminder that you're getting a second chance and that you'd better not blow it. No one is going to go easy on you a second time, even if Harry Potter has vouched for you."

The kettle came to a boil and Draco poured himself a cup, dropping a tea bag in. "Is it really so difficult to believe I've turned over a new leaf?"

"I'll believe it when I see it."

Draco bristled. The Auror was being more antagonistic than usual. Maybe the man new time was running out for him to catch Draco breaking the rules. "What have I shown you for months now? I make an honest living. I keep my flat clean. I'm minding my own business. I'm the model reformee." He frowned. Was reformee a word? No matter. His trousers were pressed. He was taking better care of himself without magic than he'd ever done with it. When he'd had his magic, he'd also had people to take care of his needs—house-elves, his parents. He'd never really had to do for himself until now, and he was doing it pretty damn well.

"Malfoy, I'm only here an hour a day, one day month. I don't have any way to know what you get up to the rest of the time. I only see what you show me."

"And is that what your report to the Wizengammot is going to say? That you can't find anything I've done wrong, but that you still think I'm up to something." If looks could kill, Draco's eyes would have gone straight through the other man's skull. He hadn't been putting up with this all for the last 9 months to have an Auror with a stick up his ass try to argue against him on the basis that there was no way to prove that Draco had followed the rules. That was the most ridiculous argument he'd ever heard. It was like trying to argue that invisible flying pigs might exist because you couldn't prove they didn't. He bristled as the other man said nothing. "Was this a rigged game then? Torment me for a year and send me to Azkaban afterward no matter what?"

"I just want to see justice done," Burke said, resolutely.

Draco's lips pressed together and in a fit of irritation he went and took out the edited version of his book. It wasn't quite finished. "I'll be needing this back," he said stiffly, handing it to the man. "But read for yourself if you need any convincing on my state of mind or my intentions."

The man raised an eyebrow and tucked the book into the pocket of his robes without looking at it.

The few minutes until Burke and Caffrey finished and left were agonizingly long for Draco. And then of course Draco sat at the table and kicked himself for putting something that personal in unknown hands. At least it was the edited version. Still, he found his palms sweating.

He decided tea wasn't strong enough and went into the kitchen to hunt for a bottle of wine.

Hermione was having lunch with Mr. Weasley. She couldn't help worrying about Draco. She'd tried so hard this year to help him as best she could without breaking the rules of his probation. She'd gotten authorization from the Ministry before taking him to the Weasleys for Christmas. She never Apparated him anywhere, even if he was running late for work. Harry had Apparated Draco that one day, but no harm had seemed to come of it. She had sent a couple of letters to Draco's mother for him, but he hadn't sent any with his owl. Strictly speaking, he hadn't been banned from speaking to her. She'd been the one sent away, not him. His restrictions on his owl were mostly to prevent him from mail ordering potions and things.

She sighed. When Draco had been sentenced, she'd wanted him to learn from the experience. She hadn't realized how much of a role she'd end up playing at the time, or how close they would become. She brought herself back to the present. Who would have ever guessed she'd be in love with Draco Malfoy? "So, what do you think? Is it better to tell the Wizengammot about Draco's name on the paperwork saying he contributed to the creation of George's mirror product, or is it better to hope it goes unnoticed?" She found herself fidgeting with the napkin next to her glass.

Arthur looked down his long nose at her across the table. "Hermione," he started. He sighed. "Too many people want him to fail for it to go unnoticed. People are going to be turning over every rock looking for something he's done wrong when it comes time to give him his magic back."

"He hasn't done anything wrong. He doesn't have any magic to do anything with. All he did was offer advice on a novelty product."

"Sometimes it doesn't matter. People will be looking to see him fail."

Hermione rubbed her temples. "I'll tell Draco."

Arthur looked across at her. He looked a little uncomfortable. "I take it the two of you are rather close these days."

She almost opened her mouth to deny it, or make an excuse, and thought better of it. She was going to have to tell Molly and Arthur sooner or later. After all, they'd told Narcissa, and the Weasleys were the closest thing Hermione had left to parents. "Draco and I are seeing one another." Hermione couldn't quite read the look on Arthur's face, and her heart hammered in her chest. "I know it's been less than a year since Ron…" She couldn't finish the sentence. She didn't have to.

The red-haired man put his hand across the table and patted the back of her hand. His voice was quiet, but firm. "You're not being disloyal to Ron, Hermione. He's gone. We can't change that. I won't say I'm not a little surprised, but…he seemed to have turned over a new leaf when he came over for the holidays." He hesitated. "He's not like Lucius?"

She shook her head. "He's not like Lucius. A year working for a living and getting along without his magic and gold might improve even Lucius's personality though, I think."

There was a little silence, as though they were both trying to find the words. Arthur cleared his throat and nodded, almost as if to himself. "Molly and I will have to have you both over for dinner—once he's allowed to start Appareling again."

"I'd like that. I think he would too. I think it could take a while before his mother comes around to the idea of us together."

"Molly and I will always be here for you Hermione. No matter what," Arthur told her. Hermione reached across the table and half hugged him. She wasn't looking forward to telling Draco that his best bet was going to be to disclose having his name on the mirror paperwork, but she couldn't bear the thought of losing him to Azkaban.

Belby canceled their session. Apparently a potion he'd recently begun taking had interacted poorly with the Pepper-Up potion he'd taken that morning as he'd woken up. He'd been in a foul mood when Hermione turned up for her regularly scheduled lesson. He'd assigned her some at home work and sent her home.

Hermione didn't mind. It didn't take half as long as she was expecting to get through the work he assigned, and then she called in a takeout order at a nearby restaurant. Shortly before Draco's regularly scheduled lunch break, Hermione arrived at the library with a couple of bags.

He looked up from his desk in surprise when he heard her call his name, and his face broke out in a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Belby canceled on me today. I thought I'd bring you a hot lunch. Unless you'd rather have your cold sandwich."

Draco shook his head. "Hot food sounds delicious. I've got another ten minutes before I'm off though. I've got to wait for someone to come take over the desk."

"Can't leave the desk unmanned. That would be a crime."

Draco gave a look of mock indignation. "If I left the desk, anyone might attempt to just stroll out of here with a book."

"Which they can already have for free if you are here," she pointed out, chuckling.

"Yes, but if I'm here, then I know that when Professor Sourface is looking for a book and can't find it, I can look at the computer and know that one of his slacker students took it out and it will probably be in after mid-terms. If I'm not here to keep the records, the book could disappear forever."

"A tragedy," she said, smiling. And it would be a tragedy for books to disappear. Libraries had always been a special place to her. "Who would have ever guessed that of the two of us, you'd end up as a librarian?" she asked, leaning against the counter.

"Are you going to introduce me?" someone asked, coming out of an office.

"Oh, Theresa, this is my girlfriend Hermione. Hermione, this is Theresa."

There was a polite round of introductions and Theresa looked Hermione over a little appraisingly. She smiled. "You can cut out for lunch a few minutes early. I'll take the desk." She tilted her head toward the door. "It's a gorgeous day out there."

Not needing to be told twice, Hermione and Draco took their lunch outside and ate on a bench under a tree.

They sat together, enjoying being near each other. "Belby ought to poison himself more often," Draco said.

Hermione snorted. "If he did, I might not learn anything."

"I still think you probably could have managed decently well as a self-taught student."

Hermione shook her head. "There are some secrets people never commit to writing. And some nuances that just don't translate to the page."

Draco sighed. "And some things should never be written.

Soft fingers entwined themselves with Draco's as Hermione squeezed his hand. "Still having thoughts about the book?"

"It's been nearly a week since I gave Burke the book in a fit of pique. No response. No follow up visit. He hasn't returned it. It's starting to feel a bit ominous."

"Maybe it means he's actually taking the time to read it."

"Hmm," he said, noncommittally.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione added, "You told me you were thinking about sharing it with McGonagall. Is it so terrible that Burke has it?"

"Yes. Even after everything, I think McGonagall might see some spark of decency in me. Burke is looking for a reason for me to fail. There's a difference."

She squeezed his hand again. Sometimes, there just weren't words. After they finished their lunch, Hermione walked Draco back to the front of the library and he kissed her goodbye.

As Draco came back to his desk, he saw that Theresa was still there. "She seems very special," his boss remarked.

"She is," Draco said, rather thoughtful smile unfolding on his face. "She is."