Author's Note: I know it's still early on in the game, and few, if any, reviews are to be expected. I'm just reminding you that if you are reading this story, please do review. I only have one review at this point and I'm wondering if this story is worth continuing. I will, of course, continue writing even if I have one devoted reader. I just like to know if anyone's reading or interested in this fic. Constructive criticism, compliments, suggestions, et cetera are appreciated and welcome, I just ask that you're not rude about it.

Also, I really hate writing out dialogue. To make it easier for myself, and probably a bit more interesting to read, I will sometimes leave out the 'she said' or 'he said' parts of dialogue, especially if it's a long string of dialogue. I will always make it easy to know who is speaking and to whom he/she is speaking with, so there will be no confusion, hopefully.

"Is it really so hard to believe?"

"Well, actually, yes. We're talking about Harry and my little sister."

"Look, Ronald, all I'm saying is I don't want you hounding Harry or Ginny just yet. Since, well, they're not even speaking at present. And don't you dare say anything to Cho."

"To Cho? Why the hell would I say anything to her?"

"I don't know, Ron, I was just making sure you wouldn't do anything stupid, since you're prone to doing stupid things."

"Am I now? Go on, explain yourself."

"I'm not explaining something so obvious to you!"

"Obvious? What are you saying, I'm obviously stupid or something?"

"Cor, I don't even know what we're arguing about, so just shut up, I have a headache."

"Do not tell me to shut up, Hermione! I'm not some little child."

"Shut up, Ron."

Hermione was well-rested and at peace with herself and her surroundings. She had enjoyed a quick, hot shower, a cup of mint tea and a slice of toast with marmalade, and was currently meditating in a sunroom by one of the gardens.

She had taken to meditating when the war first started. Her mother, an avid follower of yoga and all things Zen, had introduced Hermione to meditation during Hermione's 7th year, when she started to stress over NEWTs. As the war progressed, she realized she needed an escape from time to time. An escape from constantly worrying about her friends in the war and about herself, as well.

Her legs folded elegantly and expertly beneath her, she breathed in deeply, exhaling after ten seconds. She lifted her arms towards the artificial sky above, and stretched until her arms ached. Her arms still raised, she rotated her neck clockwise and counterclockwise, cracking stressed joints.

Hermione thought this room was perfect for meditating at any time of the year. It had artificial sunlight year-round, and one could even feel the warmth of the sun's rays, and occasionally even a light breeze.

Extricating herself from the complicated position, she stretched her legs and arms once again before returning inside the main area of the house, hoping for a glace of cold Pumpkin juice.

Harry was slouched against a wall in the kitchen, his eyes closed. He seemed to be deep in thought, taking in long, intoxicated breaths.

"Feeling alright, Harry?" Hermione questioned, giving him the once-over.

Harry's eyes remained closed as he replied, "Just thinking. Sometimes everything can seem to be overbearing, and it's nice to just think without being pressured."

"You should take up meditation, Harry. If anyone needs it, you do," Hermione said, striding across the kitchen the stand by him, her back resting against the wall.

They stood in silence for a few minutes before Harry broke it, "Did you eat this morning? I'm sorry I didn't wake up earlier to prepare anything for you guys."

Hermione patted his shoulder, "Nonsense, Harry. You know you don't have to be hospitable around us. I know where everything is and I had some toast this morning. As for the others, I'm sure they ate. Did you?"

"I'm not very hungry," Harry grumbled.

Hermione said soothingly, "Talk to Ginny, Harry. You need to fix things between you two."

"It's too soon," Harry protested, "Neither of us wants to see the other at this point, and I don't want to do anything I'll regret."

"Well, you need to talk to Cho, at least. You can't keep stringing her along blindly. However horrible she may be, she doesn't deserve to be lied to," Hermione said, "You should get cleaned up and think about talking to her today."

She kissed his cheek lightly and turned to walk out. She turned at the door and said, "I was hoping to go into London today. You know, get my Christmas shopping done and all that. I figure I'll stop by the Ministry to say a quick hello to Mr. Weasley while I'm out, so I won't be home until tonight."

Harry gave her a weak smile.

Hermione Apparated into Diagon Alley, just by Flourish & Blott's. Hermione paused at the entrance of Flourish & Blott's, wondering if she should go in or not. She knew if she went in, she'd be in there for quite a while and end up wasting at least two hours of her time.

It's only a quick look, Hermione thought, I'm not going to buy anything. I'd just like to see if there's anything new of interest.

Her mind set, she pushed open the door, the familiar welcoming bell ringing as she did so. The brusque manager gave her a curt nod before returning to his many clients at hand. Christmas season was possibly one of the worst times in the store, being as it was always so crowded and noisy.

Hermione made her way to one of the more secluded corners of the store, which was the interior designing corner, coincidentally enough.

Well, Ginny's present's all set, Hermione thought, leafing through a few different books.

She eventually settled on Magical Designs for the Modern Witch or Wizard, a sparkling blue book with a magnificent wand and a smiling witch on the cover.

Exiting Flourish & Blott's, Hermione made her way to Madame Malkin's next door, hoping for a sale of any kind – robes were getting more expensive by the year.

The squat, smiling witch that was Madame Malkin's greeted Hermione hurriedly in the shop, running this way and that trying to accommodate what looked to be a very demanding customer.

Hermione waited patiently for the next fifteen minutes, reading through Ginny's new book. Finally, Madame Malkin led Hermione to a platform on which to stand, and started measuring her.

"What were you looking for exactly, dear?" Madame Malkin inquired, measuring Hermione's waist. "Oh you've gotten smaller than I remember!"

Hermione was amazed that Madame Malkin even remembered her from such a long time ago. "I was hoping for a nice set of dress robes, but I haven't a lot of money with me…"

"Oh, nonsense! There's always enough money for a nice set of dress robes," Madame Malkin laughed heartily, "I'll give you half off."

Hermione gushed, "I couldn't let you do that! Please, I insist on paying in full or not buying anything at all."

"Don't you start, miss, I insist. Been meaning to get rid of some dress robes. Lord knows the opening of that fancy Gladrags has been the downfall of me! My loyal folk been rushing over there!" Madam Malkin exclaimed.

Hermione felt guilty for considering going to Gladrags instead of Madam Malkin's. In truth, the only reason she did decide to come to Madam Malkin's was because Gladrags was too expensive for her.

Hermione left the store with an elegant white box tucked underneath her arm, and in it was a beautiful set of sparkling red dress robes. They were a healthy mix of naughty and nice, Madam Malkin had said. They showed enough skin without being considered scant.

The rest of the afternoon was spent going in and out of various stores, hoping to find suitable presents for all of her friends. The hardest, indeed, was finding a present for Ron. His only real interest was Quidditch, and being a professional Quidditch player meant having every possible Quidditch-related item before they even hit stores. She did, however, settle on what she thought would be a marvelous – if not hilarious – present for Ron.

Exhausted after shopping, Hermione quickly Apparated to the Ministry, hoping to make a very short and to the point hello to Mr. Weasley, and get home. In all honesty, she had come to discuss Ron with Mr. Weasley, hoping for a serious talk.

After being cleared by security and getting her visitor's badge, Hermione made her way to the elevator. She waited for it to arrive, and out stepped eight or so people, all in a hurry. She stepped in, and heard someone cry, "Hold that please!"

Hermione put her hand in front of the elevator door just in time for the one and only Draco Malfoy to come running in, out of breath.

"Thanks," he said, not quite looking at her yet. When he finally did, his breath stopped short and he looked away again.

Hermione said nothing to him and hardly looked at him. She thought that when one wanted time to speed up, it slowed down, and when one wanted time to slow down, it sped up. Currently this was a case of wanting time to speed up so she could get her little old self out of the elevator, but time was, as usual, not on her side.

"You've got a lot of stuff," Malfoy observed, his voice curt.

"Yes, great observation," said Hermione sarcastically.

"Oh, don't be so catty, Granger," Malfoy said scathingly, "I was only trying to break the silence."

"Don't start with me, Malfoy, I'm not in the mood," said Hermione, her voice threatening.

"I was not starting anything," Malfoy retorted.

"Oh, just shut up already," Hermione snapped.

"I beg your pardon? Who do you think you are?" Malfoy called imperiously.

The elevator door opened and they both made a rush to get out at the same time, resulting in Hermione's things to get knocked over. Her dress robes fell out of the box, and Malfoy tripped over them, tearing the left sleeve from the seams.

"My dress robes!" Hermione cried, lunging for them in the hopes of salvaging them.

Malfoy groaned, clutching his wrist.

Hermione stuffed the robes back in the box and hurriedly gathered her things, running away. She was horribly embarrassed.

"Wait!" Malfoy yelled after her, jogging to catch up with her, "Granger, wait!"

"You ruined my dress robes!" Hermione wailed, "I just bought them, and they were not cheap!"

Malfoy opened his mouth, smirking, probably about to make a scathing reply about her lack of money and/or stature in the Wizarding world when he thought better of it and closed his mouth. Instead he said, "I'll replace them."

Hermione gaped, "You'll what?"

"I'll replace them, Granger, don't get a big head," Malfoy said, "I'm only doing this because I don't want to be indebted to you. Where did you get your robes?"

"From Madam Malkin's," Hermione said tentatively.

Malfoy grimaced, "Honestly Granger, no one buys their robes from her anymore."

"Gladrags is too expensive, Malfoy. I don't have your trust fund, and I have to make due with the money I earn, which honestly isn't that much," Hermione said, blushing.

"I'll buy you robes from Gladrags, Granger," Malfoy said, "Robes that aren't so susceptible to tear."

"Right now?" Hermione asked, "I was going to say hello to Mr. Weasley…"

"Well I haven't all day! I'm a very busy business man," Malfoy clucked, already impatient.

Hermione opened her mouth to protest and tell him she didn't care how busy he was, when he grabbed her wrist and Apparated back to Diagon Alley.

"How dare you!" Hermione bellowed, "I cannot believe you had the nerve to do that."

Malfoy wasn't listening, and was already trekking up the hill to Gladrags.

"Are you listening to me!" Hermione shrieked from behind him, "Malfoy! Don't ignore me!"

Malfoy spun on his heel to face her, "You really are the most annoying and infuriating witch I've ever met, and that is truly saying something since I've had to deal with Pansy Parkinson for my whole school career."

Hermione laughed, "Don't pretend you didn't like her, Malfoy, she certainly didn't have to pretend she liked your trust fund and your…bed sheets."

Malfoy was horrified, "Did the whole school know? Christ!"

"I was only joking," Hermione said, laughing even harder, "You mean to tell me you really did…you know…"

"Have sex? Are you really so prudent that you can't say the word 'sex'?" Malfoy said, rolling his eyes.

Hermione blushed, "Shove off, Malfoy."

Malfoy turned back up the hill when he stopped two minutes later and turned around again, "You've never had sex?"

"Malfoy!"

"Stop being such a silly bint, Granger!" Malfoy said, "I was just asking, since you seemed very anxious to talk about sex, which can only mean you've never enjoyed the physical sensation that is commonly called sex."

"You're asking for a slap, you are," Hermione warned, raising her hand, "I'm going to Apparate back if you don't just shut up and mind your own bloody business."

Malfoy smirked and shrugged, and continued towards Gladrags.

An hour later, Hermione was thoroughly exhausted and glad to be rid of Malfoy. She was safely inside Kensington Gardens, enjoying the view of Muggle London from a comfortable bench. She hadn't expected for it to take so long, but Malfoy, being the petulant child he is, refused to buy her a set of ugly robes. In Hermione's opinion, none of the robes she picked out could possibly be deemed ugly, but Malfoy refused to the point of stamping his feet and whining, that Hermione was forced to buy a pair of which Malfoy approved. They settled on a pair of shiny pink robes, which included a detachable Muggle-looking dress underneath, and which came with a gift box full of hair and make-up products. Malfoy had the audacity to say Hermione should use those products, in the hopes of taming her untamable hair.

Hermione slowly started to fall asleep on the bench. Her eyes were half closed and playing delightful tricks on her mind. She saw a face which she knew didn't belong in Kensington Gardens. She wondered why Draco Malfoy was standing in front of her with a peculiar expression on his face, and her world was white.