A/N: Here is the rest of the story. I haven't decided yet if I want to tie it back up to the present as it has a happy ending if we pretend it ends after this chapter. So maybe I'll continue, but probably not. Anyway, enjoy.
Hermione was fully prepared to spend the night on the porch alone. She knew Malfoy had a bad track record of being able to deal with emotions and had a tendency to isolate himself when anyone tried to get close. She figured he'd stay away for maybe a month. He may even avoid eye contact at dinner for a while if he was feeling particularly cornered. She had made peace with that.
Thus, she nearly jumped when the sound of the back door opening startled her.
"Feeling a little skittish there, Granger?" a smooth voice came from behind her as she calmed her heart rate back to normal.
She turned to the blond joining her and was torn between glaring and grinning. He actually showed up.
"It's a sign of good reflexes. A very handy skill actually." She calmly informed him, trying to mask how pleased she was to have been wrong for once.
He scoffed but dropped the issue as he sat down beside her. He handed her a soda.
"No firewhiskey and no cookies. What is the world coming to?" He said with mirth in his voice. That kind of comment would not have been welcome just a few short months ago when the Order seemed to be fighting an uphill battle and losing more and more of their own in every fight. Now, things seemed to be turning around. Everyone was a little less stressed as the war seemed to be slowly winding to a close.
Hermione laughed and popped open her can. It consistently surprised her how relaxed she now felt in the presence of the man beside her.
"What will you do after the war?" She asked him, genuinely curious.
"I was supposed to take over running the Malfoy estate and keeping up with the various business ventures my father had invested in so he could retire. Now, the Malfoy fortune has been mostly spent trying to fund a psychopath's play time and any influence the Malfoy name once held will be worthless after the fighting is done so that's out." Oddly, he didn't sound all that disappointed by this change.
"Ok, that's what you were supposed to do. What do you want to do? Like growing up, what was your dream job?" Hermione pressed.
Draco let out a small embarrassed laugh and scratched the back of his neck.
"I, uh, I wanted to bake. Before I was informed of the responsibilities that came with my last name, I wanted to open a bakery."
Hermione had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping. "You wanted to bake? Like cookies and cakes, baking? I always pegged you for a potioneer or curse breaker."
"Well baking and potions aren't all that different. You mix things and heat things and add different ingredients and you get something amazing at the end. I don't know if that's what I'll do after the war but when I was little, that's what I wanted " He shrugged again as if trying to lessen the shock-value of his words. "What will you do?"
Hermione couldn't get enough of the mental image of a 6 year old Draco trying to stir up some brownies and getting flour all over the floor in the process.
"I…before I knew about the wizarding world, I wanted to be an archeologist. It seemed so full of adventures and discovery and I always liked history and figuring out why things are the way they are."
She knew she was rambling and looked up expecting to see the glazed over look that she was so used to getting. Once again, she was surprised.
Instead of silence, they spent the night discussing everything from their favorite dessert to the story of their first time getting drunk and their biggest fears.
Eventually, the yawns got longer than the space in between them and it was time to go inside before they both were found asleep on the porch with the sun shining down.
Draco stood and offered a hand to Hermione.
"We're not friends, Granger."
"Yeah, we'll see about that, Malfoy."
A week later, Hermione found Draco sitting on what had become their spot and without even questioning it, went out to join him.
She sat beside him for a while before finally asking the question that had been burning on her mind for ages.
"What's so wrong with the concept of us being friends? If we were back at Hogwarts, I'd understand. If this was 3 years ago, I'd understand. If you still believed all that crap about blood purity, which I know you don't, I'd understand. But now, after us sitting out here on the porch fairly regularly for what, almost 10 months? What's so wrong with us being friends?"
Draco turned to her with that smug grin on his face like he had just figured out how to win a game of chess and his opponent had no idea.
"There's nothing wrong with it, per se. We just aren't."
Hermione knew he was baiting her and waiting for her to play into whatever game he had in mind, but she couldn't resist.
"And just why would that be, Draco? Do indulge me with your logic in this matter." She said while rolling her eyes.
Draco laughed, like truly laughed.
"Oh Granger, well I don't know about you, but I tend not to find myself attracted to my friends."
Her mental gears were turning as she processed what he was implying. As she was piecing together the words of her response, Draco leaned in and kissed her.
As he pulled away, he grinned that smug smile.
"See, Granger? We're not friends."
Thanks for indulging in my super quick little story.