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

They always sat side-by-side; never even a buffer stool in between them, even though they were the only two who ever sat at the counter. Indeed, they had quite a routine. Every night, Hermione would meet Draco for drinks, with the exception of Sunday. She had told him she was going to see her parents on Sunday.

"Sure, Granger. Going to see your parents," he said, as if he knew more than she was telling him. After she gave him 'that look', he told her that she really had an Order meeting Sunday night. Her silence confirmed it. Before she could ask, Draco told her that the Death Eaters knew about the Order's weekly meetings on Sunday nights, but have no clue where they were held ("at least, not since I left").

"Do you think they've gotten any closer since then?" she asked him with concern. This was serious business.

"You lot are very enigmatic when need be, Granger," he assured her. "And I have a suspicion that even if they did know where the meetings are held, if in fact they are in the same location every week (the Death Eaters were never sure about that either), they probably wouldn't be able to find this place anyway." He smiled at her knowingly. She wouldn't confirm or deny anything he said, but that was enough for the two of them. They had developed this understanding. Hermione and Draco sat quietly for a moment until Hermione spoke up again.

"I really am going to visit my parents on Sunday."

"Of course you are," he replied quickly.

"It's true," she assured him. For some reason, Hermione didn't want Draco to think she was a liar.

"I believed you the first time, Granger," he assured her. "I was merely pointing out the fact that you also had an Order meeting, which you conveniently 'forgot' to mention." There had been no malice in his voice. In fact, Draco spoke to her in a somewhat teasing manor. Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh, wipe that smirk off your face, Blondie." He laughed.

"Wow Granger, very original," he said, drinking some scotch. "Though I ought to say, it must have taken a lot of willpower to not call me 'ferret'. Either way, I would have expected more from you. I'm disappointed in you, Granger, I truly am."

When Hermione met him the following Monday night, it was business as usual. He was there on his stool drinking a glass of scotch, whiskey sour waiting for her at herplace next to him. He didn't bring up the Order meeting, but he did ask about her parents.

"What is it they do again?"

She put her drink down and explained to him, "they're dentists."

"That's like Healers for your teeth, right?"

"Something like that," she told him.

"What are they like?" he asked her.

"Well, they're good people."

"Of course they're good people, Granger. I would expect nothing less from the people who raised you." She smiled and took his statement as a compliment. "Personality-wise, I meant."

"They're both a bit introverted at times, especially when they're in uncomfortable surroundings," she told him. She took a drink and went on, "my mum wears the pants in the family, though she lets my dad think he does." Draco laughed and she went on, "yeah my mum can be a bit bossy at times–don't look at me that way, I know what you're thinking!"

"Okay bossy–bird." She sighed. "What about your father?"

"My dad? He's," she sighed and smiled, "he's one of the smartest people I know. He always wanted the best for me; still sees me as his baby girl." Draco smiled. "One of the most stubborn people you'll ever meet, too." Draco feigned shock.

"No! You mean to tell me that a member of the Granger family is stubborn? I never would have thought; never in a million years I tell you."

"Are you trying to insinuate something?" she asked him. She knew exactly where this was going.

"Me? No, not at all."

"I'm not stubborn," she told him.

"Of course you're not."

"I'm not!"

He dropped the topic and they sat in silence for a minute. "Do you believe in angels, Granger?"

"Yes." She answered without stopping to think about it.

Draco smiled. "Of course you would."

"Why," Hermione asked him, "don't you?"

"I guess. Do you suppose–I mean," he paused, "I always wondered if angels could die," he confessed.

"I never really thought about it that way," she admitted.

"I always reckoned that if angels died, that light would just fade."

"That's so sad to think about," Hermione said, fiddling with her glass.

"Alas, that's life–or death actually." He finished his glass of scotch.

"Is that what you believe?" she asked him.

"I don't know what I believe in anymore, Granger. I mean, I want to believe that there's something to actually believe in. If that makes any sense."

"It does," she stated.

"I grew up believing in the things my father told me. I held onto that for so long and look where it got me. Then I let go and still, life isn't much better," Draco looked at Hermione; a piece of hair had fallen in front of her face. He reached up and tucked it back, "though I must say, life has been looking better lately." His hand lingered for a moment before he drew it back and took another sip. "I'd just like to believe in something again. If I had something to believe in," he sighed, "I'd have a reason." Hermione's heart swelled. She wanted so badly to reach out to him.

"Believe in me."

He looked down at his glass and smiled. "That's a lot of responsibility, Granger," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Lucky for you I'm a very responsible person," Hermione guaranteed.

He laughed, "I should hope so, being a Healer in training and all. Wouldn't want you to forget to lock up the psych ward one night–they'd find Lockhart the next morning in Flourish & Blotts signing books."

"That's not nice!" Hermione said, though she couldn't help but crack a smile. "I thought Professor Lockhart–"

"You thought the man was good-looking. Don't kid yourself there, Granger."

"Very well, I can admit I found him rather," she paused, "dapper."

"Dapper! Please. You and every other girl practically drooled all over the man. I bet you still have everything he gave you–notes he made on your homework assignments, essays with his comments..." Hermione's face went red and he laughed. "Oh Granger, you kill me!" he roared.

"I kept all my stuff from school, alright! Not just Lockhart's class!" Hermione had to defend herself after all. "I still have notes from Divination; does that mean I fancy Trelawney too?"

"You dropped Divination," Draco stated, pointing out the obvious.

"I know, but I still have my notes from when I was in the class."

"Why?" he asked her.

"I don't know. Why not? What harm is it in keeping my notes?"

Draco sighed. "Granger, you made it perfectly clear how you felt about the subject. So isn't it a little hypocritical holing onto notes from a class you thought was a load of rubbish?"

What could she say? Hermione wasn't quite sure why she still had those old Divination notes, now that she thought about it. But there was no harm in holding onto them, right? If anything, she could look back in the future and laugh at how preposterous the whole subject was.

"Don't give me any more grief."

"I was merely–"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She took a drink looking somewhat defeated. "And people say I'm a know-it-all," she muttered into her glass loud enough for him to hear. He merely smirked triumphantly.

Author's Note–Okay, last chapter I said I was excited for this chapter. This isn't the chapter I was excited for. I decided to use that one a little later. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter though; I originally had the whole, believe in me, part come in much later, so I'm not sure if this is too soon or not. Let me know if it's going too fast.