Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

The next day passed as the previous one had; Healer training, lunch with the boys at the Leaky Cauldron, back to Healer training, and then home to her flat. Only today, Hermione was not so antsy. In fact, she was actually looking forward to having drinks with Draco.

It was a warm night. The last traces of the sun were gone as Hermione walked over to the pub. She was early again. Twenty minutes and no sign of danger later, she went inside the Paradise Lost.

She smiled to herself as she made her way towards him. Same spot, same drink; like the day before, a whiskey sour was there waiting for her. Hermione sat down in her stool as he nodded and raised his drink to her. She did the same a took a sip letting the whiskey warm her throat as she tried to muster up her courage–tonight she was going to get some answers from him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"I believe you just did, Granger."

"Don't be cheeky, you know what I meant," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Ask me whatever you like," he said, "though I won't guarantee I'll answer."

"It's nothing like that, actually."

"Go on then," he said, taking another sip of his scotch.

"Well," she started, "I was just wondering what it is you do all day."

"I breath." He certainly knew how to push her buttons.

"Oh your wit astounds me."

"What do you think I do all day?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, "that's why I was asking. I was just curious, that's all." Draco's face hardened. For some reason, Hermione's question made him angry.

"Oh, I see. So you think I'm out there with the Death Eaters," he whispered furiously.

"No, it's not–"

"Save it, Granger," he spat, "do you think I could actually go back–"

"I didn't mean it that–"

"–after what they did?"

"What happ–"

"Well I'm not alright! So just drop it." There was a tense pause. Draco downed the rest of his scotch and slammed the glass on the counter. He ordered another one from Paulie, the bartender, as Hermione sat there looking down at her glass.

"I didn't think that's what you were doing, and I wasn't trying to imply it either," she said quietly. His response was sarcastic. "It's true," she started, "I just wanted to know if you did something other than sit in here and drink all day." She paused to gulp down a mouthful of her drink and continued, "believe it or not, the thought of you spending your days off on some little Death Eater nonsense never occurred to me." When he looked into her eyes, he knew she spoke the truth.

"It never occurred to you?" She shook her head. "Why? It's not like I have the best track record."

"I know that."

"So how do you know I'm not really here on some Death Eater mission? Doing some reconnaissance to punish all these Muggles?" he asked her.

"I have a feeling the only person in this pub you're trying to punish is yoursel,." she told him matter-of-factly. He seemed taken aback at her observation. Draco thought about it for a while as he raised his glass to his lips. He didn't say anything so Hermione went on. "Now that we've established that you do not spend your days wreaking havoc wit the Death Eaters I'll ask you again. What is it you do all day?"

"Tell me something, Granger–what is it you do all day? You were never one to be idle." She sighed, knowing that if she wanted an answer out of Draco, it'd be in her best interest to answer him first. She told him about her Healer training.

"So...you...I mean...you went back then?" He couldn't even bring himself to say Hogwarts.

"No, I didn't," she said quietly, "hard to believe, I know." She sighed and told him, "I studied independently from last summer to Christmas, and then I was accepted for Healer training at Saint Mungo's. I'm supposed to train for two years–"

"But the overachiever in you is so ahead that you'll no doubt finish early." She let out a dry laugh. "I'm right, aren't I?"

She nodded. "I should be done six months early."

"No doubt you'll be running the place in a few years."

Hermione smiled, "that's what Healer Conrad said too."

"Healer Conrad would know. She's one of the best."

Hermione wanted to lighten up the mood and change the subject. Somehow, they always ended up talking about her. No wonder why she never got any answers.

"So tell me, Malfoy. You've been living in the Muggle world for a while now, yes?" He nodded and confirmed. "Well, what do you think?"

"Honestly? It's not as bad as I thought it would be," he said. "It took a while to adjust; using a key instead of Alohomora was harder than I reckoned it, but I managed eventually."

"Muggles aren't so bad after all, eh?"

"No. Actually, I was rather surprised at the way they live without magic. They seem happy enough."

"Muggles don't have magic. You can't miss what you never had," she told him.

"True," he said taking a drink, "but there are things about our world I miss."

"Like what?" she asked.

"I miss going to school, playing Quidditch, being home at Malfoy Manor, Chocolate Frogs," he sighed longingly and finished his glass of scotch. As he placed his glass down on the bar (gently this time) he turned to Hermione, "do you know what else I like about the Muggle world, aside from this scotch? I very much enjoy the television. It's quite interesting."

"You have one, then?" she asked him. He nodded and went on.

"I watched this movie on the television the other day."

"What was it called?" she asked, curious as to what kind of movie would spark Draco Malfoy's interest.

"It was about magic," he said, "the Wizard of Oz." She let out a heart-felt laugh. "You've seen it, then?" he asked her.

"Yes, it's a very famous movie. In fact, most Muggles have seen it at one time or another, actually."

"The whole time–the wizard was a fraud," he reflected, "and no one knew! How is that possible?"

"Well–" Hermione started.

"And the Wicked Witch; what made her green? I mean, I'm all for Slytherin pride andeverything (and she was definitely a Slytherin), but did she have an accident in Potions or something?"

"I don't–"

"And that broomstick she rode! What a piece of junk! It looked like one of the old Shooting Star brooms!"

"Yes but–"

"Though I must say," Draco interrupted her once again, "that her use of wandless magic was impressive." Hermione let out a chuckle but he didn't notice, "do Muggles really believe witches'll melt if they throw water on them?" Hermione couldn't help but smile at his enthusiam.

"They're just actors in costumes with clever tricks and angles to make it look like she was flying or using wandless magic."

"I understand that, Granger, but answer me this; a Muggle came up with the story, yes? So do they really believe all witches would melt from water?"

"No, it was just part of the story. Though," she added, "they thought burning witches would kill them."

"Yes, I knew that. I didn't spend all of my days in Professor Binns' class asleep, you know," he said, "but the water thing was weird."

"She wasn't even really melting. She was evaporating."

"Oh Granger, still the know-it-all," he said smirking at her.

"So what did you think of the movie?"

"It was enjoyable. It kind of reminded me of that Alice in Wonderland story you were telling me about." Hermione thought about it for a moment.

"Yes, I see how they kind of parallel," she said. In fact, Hermione never really connected the two before.

"You know, Granger," Draco said, "I think you're rather like Alice."

"How so?" she asked him.

"When you step through those doors," he said pointing, "you're in Wonderland. And you sit here with me and we have a mad tea party."

"You're not mad," she reassured him.

"We're all born mad," he told her, " some remain so."

"Perhaps," she responded, "but I still don't reckon you're mad." He smiled as she finished her drink. "I should go."

"Healer training early in the morning, eh?" She nodded and got up. When she started to dig through her bag, he stopped her as he had the night before. "You don't have to–"

"Granger," he sighed.

"But how–never mind. Thank you for the drinks, Malfoy. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow, then."

As Hermione walked back to her flat, the words of Draco Malfoy ran through her head; Do you think I could actually go back after what they did? What did the Death Eaters do to him? Whatever it was, Hermione had a feeling it had been the reason for his sanctuary in the Muggle world. The wheels in Hermione's head began to spin as she thought about her next meeting with Draco.

Author's Note–There's not much to say about this chapter. When I was writing it, I wasn't sure how you guys would respond so let me know. I'm looking forward to the next chapter; I need to tweek it a bit, but I think it's cute and I hope you guys will enjoy it. I'll probably have it up later this week sometime. Suggestions are welcome too, so let me know what you want to see.