Summary: Hermione has left the Wizarding World for Muggle France. After two years of living a life without magic, two former Slytherins appear at her doorstep offering their services to be her own personal bodyguards. The past resurfaces and Hermione is reminded of what she truly is.

A/U.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

EMBERS

VI

The day I had received my letter from Hogwarts had been my Dad's birthday. He had opted to celebrate with the just the three of us in attendance, forgoing the usual extravagant parties that Mum would usually throw for him, inviting all of his friends, co-workers, and relatives. Dad had always been a nature-lover. Thus, the picnic at the park.

It was I who had selected the perfect spot beneath a large elm tree that provided just enough shade for the three of us. We were in the middle of eating potato salad when a handsome brown barn owl swooped in from the air and landed gracefully on top of Mum's wicker basket. Mum had squealed like a five-year old while Dad tried to shoo it away. It refused to leave. Instead, it stuck out its foot (which I presumed as odd considering as owls never really do that) and shook it in our faces. It was then that I realized that there was an envelope tied to its foot.

Dad encouraged me to untie it and gave the bird some corn. It twittered happily before disappearing in a flurry of wings. I watched it go with utmost curiosity until it vanished entirely from my view. I was then reminded by the envelope in my hand. I glanced down to see the most peculiar seal. A gold H with four creatures surrounding it. Mum urged me to open. I did so obediently.

Hermione Jean Granger

Underneath the Large Elm Tree

Green Park, South of Picadilly, London


To say that Draco had been taken aback by Hermione tossing him her journal would be an understatement. In fact, if it had not been for his Seeker reflexes, he might not have caught the book in time.

Draco had been raised a spoiled brat – what Draco wants, Draco gets. This was all material-wise. As for hugs and bedtime stories – well, that was another story for another day.

Growing up, he was made to believe that power was everything and he had been taught well by his father. Lucius Malfoy had exuded power, and he knew how to use and abuse it to his own liking. Draco knew that this was a horrible trait. And although Draco considered himself a changed man, there were just some things that he could not grow out of. This was one of them.

As much as he hated to admit it, the only reason why he had said those things to Hermione was because he had actually been concerned about her. After all, no witch in her right mind would leave the house without her arm. Well, wand. But it might as well have been her arm.

Which was why he was sitting here outside the balcony in the cool night air with her journal on his lap. He had only read the first few pages so far – not so interesting, in his opinion. He decided to skim over the pages – see if something caught his eye.

It sounds cliché – falling in love with your best friend. But that's exactly what happened to me. It developed gradually over the years. I tried to make my feelings known through doing little things, like helping him with his homework, tutoring him whenever there was a test the following day, and going on the occasional adventure with him and Harry. But he never noticed. I knew I was silly for getting my hopes up, so I decided that perhaps it was time I moved on.

Viktor Krum had been the perfect distraction. He was nice, attentive, and caring. It didn't matter that he could not pronounce my name properly. Nor did it matter that he wasn't that cute at all. His personality was all that counted and the fact that he had expressed obvious affection. But it didn't work. Every time I danced with him, conversed with him – I kept picture a certain redhead in my mind. He just wouldn't go away.

So I continued doing the little things, hoping that one day he would see me in a different light.

But then he started dating Lavender Brown, and I realized that I had entered my own personal hell. Every day was a nightmare. I could barely stand to be in their presence. Jealousy raged inside me. I was helpless. This was something beyond my control. I could not stop him from loving another.

It wasn't until the day at the infirmary when he called out my name instead of Lavender's.

Draco resisted the urge to gag and skipped the next few pages. They talked about Hermione's work as an Arithmancer at the Ministry of Magic, her blissful relationship with Ron Weasley --

Ginny used to warn me about men who were all shiny and pretty on the outside but were just horny on the inside. She also warned me that her brother might be one of those men – she told me to be careful, careful with my heart.

She was wrong of course. Despite several fights and a hell of a lot of tears, Ron and I stuck together. We worked it out. We've been together for almost two years now. We were even talking about marriage.

I was living an almost fairytale. Trade the castle for a slightly rundown apartment, the shimmering dress for standard Ministry robes, and Prince Charming for a lazy redhead who chewed with his mouth open. I loved him to death.

I was looking forward to my happy ending.

But it turned out that my lazy redhead wasn't my Prince Charming after all, but a horny jackass who chose a big-breasted blonde over me. The worst part was, he had the audacity to do it on our very bed.

It was really the only time that I hurt someone physically (outside the War of course). The blonde went flying out the window, completely nude. She had to be taken to St. Mungo's to have all her broken bones treated. That made me feel a little bit better. But then I realized that I sent the wrong person flying out the window.

For some reason, Draco wasn't surprised. But maybe he was just biased. After all, he spent the better part of his life hating Ron Weasley. He was the only person that Draco had not completely gotten into good terms with. The rest of the Weasleys – he had sort of formed a polite relationship with. Even Harry Potter had become his friend. But the Weasel King? No.

What surprised him was that Hermione would actually leave London for this. Despite the fact that he used to look down on her during their Hogwarts days, there was no denying the intelligence and courage inside that woman. She wasn't in Gryffindor for nothing.

He pegged this as her second reason for leaving. The first, would be her parents' death. But he continued to read. There must be another reason behind all this. It simply wasn't – enough.

He came across a few excerpts from the War. He was about to skip through it when a paragraph caught his eye.

I never believed that people are born evil. People choose to be evil. When there is a choice, there is an alternative. There is also a chance of change. This has led me to believe that those people could change. Change for the better. Choose to be good.

I had faith and I held on to that faith for as long as I could, knowing there would be no chance of winning the war without it – without certain people making the right choice.

I was right.

The few Slytherins who had crossed over to our side had stunned more than a few people. But I knew they would. I knew that beneath the dark exterior, there was a good person waiting to be free.

Yes, Draco Malfoy included.

And no one would believe this, but I was proud of him – for making the right choice.

Draco blinked, unsure if he had read correctly. But it was right there. Imprinted clearly in Hermione's neat penmanship. A strange warm feeling was spreading through him. This was nothing short of bizarre. Draco had never felt this way before. Perhaps he was coming down with a fever?

"Enjoying yourself?" A cool voice asked.

Draco turned to see Hermione leaning against the door frame, a glass of red wine in her hand. He shut her journal closed with haste, a tad bit embarrassed at having been caught reading about – himself. Of course, Hermione did not know that.

"Isn't it a little too early to be drinking?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

She shrugged and took a seat in front of him. "Blaise is cooking."

"Ah."

Hermione set down her glass on top of a small table by the balustrade. Without meeting his gaze, she spoke: "I had my reasons for reacting that way earlier this morning, Draco. I suppose you've read about them?"

"A few." Draco said truthfully, meeting her gaze head-on. "But they were petty reasons. I'm not sure I've seen the real ones yet, seeing as I got stuck on an excerpt about myself." He could not resist a smirk.

Hermione turned red. "I've forgotten about that."

"If you don't mind me asking," Draco started, feeling the first waves of curiosity pick at his mind. "What did I do to make you – proud of me?" The word felt alien to his ears. He had never heard it spoken to him before. Only to describe him, which was nowhere near positive.

This time, when Hermione looked at him, a sudden softness appeared in her brown eyes. The iciness that had been there an hour ago had already dissolved. "You were the last person that everyone thought would turn to the good side. Even I had been doubtful at the start. But I believed in you. I knew there was something more to Draco Malfoy than just an arrogant asshole who licked his father's shoes."

Draco held back a wince at the last few words. It was true, though. He had worshipped his father. But in the end, he betrayed him. Funny, how the world works.

Hermione sipped her wine. "I was right."

The odd sensation he felt after reading the last few pages sent another dizzying wave through him, making him feel warm amidst the cool night breeze. Draco realized, after a moment of pondering, that he felt – happy. Hermione's words made him happy. "Thank you." He said softly.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm just saying the truth." She stood and began to leave.

Acting on impulse, Draco stood as well and grabbed her arm. "Hermione – wait." She turned questioningly at him. And Draco began to feel very aware of just how close they were standing to each other. He could feel her breath on his neck. His heart began to pound. If he leaned just a little bit closer –

"DINNER IS READY!" Blaise hollered from downstairs. "HURRY BEFORE IT GETS COLD!"

Draco cleared his throat and handed her the journal. "Take it. You can tell me when your ready."

Hermione blinked and stepped backwards . "Um, okay. That's very nice of you. Thanks."

She hurried downstairs leaving Draco to stare after her in confusion.

For a second there, he almost felt like kissing her.

Almost.


Hermione knew that it was never good to jump into conclusions. Which was exactly what she was doing now. Her mind was going on overload. Meeting Draco upstairs had entailed one thing: explaining to him why she had acted like a total bitch earlier that morning. It did not entail her getting lost in those startling silver eyes and allowing her heart to pump a million times its' normal rate. And it most certainly did not entail the disturbing thought that entered her brain at that very moment: that Draco Malfoy was going to kiss her.

"Are you alright?" Was the first question out of Blaise's mouth the minute she walked into the dining room. "You look a bit flushed."

Hermione frowned at him. "I don't know what you're talking about." She sat down in front of him. He shrugged and poured her another glass of wine. She heard Draco enter the room but chose not to look in his direction. Her cheeks felt a tad bit too warm for her liking.

"Well, what are you two waiting for? Eat up!"

At Blaise's command, dinner commenced with Blaise doing most of the talking. He did not seem to notice anything amiss between his two companions who remained relatively silent for the better part of the evening.

"What time is Fiona coming home?" Blaise asked as they finished up in the kitchen. It was almost ten.

"Late." Hermione replied. "She went to a benefit. Those things could last for hours."

Blaise yawned. "I don't know about you two but sleep is calling me."

Hermione froze. She had forgotten about that. Get a grip Hermione, you're jumping into conclusions. She cleared her throat. "Ah, yes. Of course. Goodnight Blaise."

"Night you two."

"Night." Draco murmured.

Blaise trudged up the stairs, leaving the two of them alone in the dining room.

TBC


A/N: Review please. Thanks.