Author's Note: First encounter with Lucius Malfoy is in this chapter! I'm purposefully making Hermione seem a little detached from the happenings in her life post-war as I figured she'd still be recovering and trying to figure out her place in the wizarding world, especially with her new job!

Enjoy!

Owls carrying letters bombarded Hermione in both her office and home two days following her movement into her new flat. The Prophet had ran the first edition of the column with four of her responses taking up one solid page of the paper, to Hermione's great embarrassment it also included a small anonymous bio about the author/advice giver that she feared was too revealing about who she was but which Harry and Ginny continuously assured her was quite anonymous.

"It's not like it says 'bushy haired, muggleborn Gryffindor, war heroine who enjoys muggle romance novels and hot tea with too little sugar.' Besides, nobody would care even if they did know it was you—probably would boost interest in the whole thing, honestly!" Ginny's words were slightly less than reassuring but Harry's aggressive nodding in agreement had comforted her, slightly.

When she'd arrived to her office at the Prophet the day after the column had ran she could literally couldn't see her own desk from the amount of letters that had been deposited upon it. The column would run every three days and with print time included in that, Hermione had to be quite swift about making her selections. Meaning, that she spent nearly a full twenty four hours boarded up in her bedroom sifting through letters looking for the ones that seemed the most urgent. After tormenting herself for a full day, and not leaving her house and feeling like a lunatic for it, she finally chose four new letters to respond to. As well, as adding a note that took her positively ages to formulate but that she was rather proud of.

Dear Mr. Fallen One,

I would like very much to be able to form an eloquent response to your thought provoking letter, however I feel as if I am in need of more information from you before being able to publish an adequate reply. If you are so inclined, please attach more information of your case to the following address:

[Here Hermione had stamped her office information]

Hopefully awaiting what is sure to be a stirring answer,

Miss Jane

"You're bloody mental, 'Mione."

"Why's that, Ronald?" The two of them were in Flourish & Blotts, Ron leaned against the shelf as Hermione browsed the titles aimlessly. They had plans to meet Ginny and Harry for lunch but the couple had cancelled on account that Ginny had been called into the second round of Quidditch try-outs with the Holyhead Harpies, so Ron had agreed to accompany Hermione into her favorite store. The smell of ink settling into parchment perked her up as she let her fingers run across the spines of the hundreds of books. The sound of pages turning, ladders rolling, and quills scratching were noises Hermione acquainted with her personal heaven; not even Ron Weasley's nagging could bring her down. On top of Ginny's good news Hermione had all of her responses all written and ready to be printed; she was feeling quite carefree as she led her moping friend into the heart of the bookshop.

"You're up to your bloody nose in advice letters and you're here looking for new books."

"Shush, Ron!" Anxiously she twisted about to ensure nobody had been listening, satisfied that nobody seemed to have been, she ignored her friends rolling eyes as she continued to sort through the Best Seller's shelf for something she hadn't already read, "I've already finished this edition's letters; besides, I could do with some new magical reading material."

"Why? You sick of that Proud and Pretentious already? You've only read it a hundred and seventy times." He was taking the mickey out of her for fun, she knew, but still she couldn't let him get away with that horrible butchering of a classic title,

"It's Pride and Prejudice, Ronald, and no I am not sick of it. I just wanted something new but nothing is garnering much interest. I need a new quill, too, remind of that."

"Sure." Pouting slightly, the ginger followed his friend down the aisles as she headed deeper and deeper into the shop. "Harry told me about your little Death Eater fan."

"What?" She was holding a rather heavy, leather bound edition of Hogwarts, A History with additional annotations by Albus Dumbledore which included information about passages that had never before been written about, she had already read it in her final year at the school (his annotated version had been found in his office and the edition had been published post-mortem) but didn't own a copy yet. "Is twenty galleons ridiculous, do you think?"

"Yeah, course it is. Why didn't you tell me about your weirdo fan mail?" Still, she was getting paid well at the Prophet and working fairly hard recently. Surely, she deserved a little splurge, right?

"I don't know what you're talking about, but I think I'm going to get this. Here hold it." Shoving it into his outstretched arms she reached into her purse to count her galleons as he spoke too-loudly,

"You know, the weird divorced guy who wrote you? Harry said that Ginny told him you were all worked up over it but I said no way. 'Mione isn't gonna answer some Death Eater looking to you for forgiveness from all the muggleborns out there…are you?"

"Well, I'm not sure. I'm still waiting for his follow-up response. Besides, he may not even be a Death Eater, Ronald, you may just be paranoid."

"So what if I am? And anyway, what if he's dangerous? Don't forget a quill." Ron pointed to the selection of feathers as they made their way to the counter.

"Thanks," She chose a deep blue quill from her favorite brand as she continued, "If he was so dangerous, I don't believe he would sound so remorseful. What could he do anyways, it's anonymous. It's not like anyone out there really knows I'm me." There was nobody behind the counter but there was a man waiting in line as Hermione and Ron finally made their way to the front, and none too soon in Ron's opinion.

"Quite the contrary, Miss Granger, I think most of the wizarding world is more than aware of what the famous Hermione Granger has accomplished in her short life time." The voice made Hermione's blood run cold and out of the corner of her eye she could see Ron's face and ears turning beet red as Lucius Malfoy turned to face the pair. How they hadn't recognized the long blonde locks or striking walking cane before he had turned was beyond Hermione, she reckoned that her day had been going so well her mind was incapable of recognizing something so dampening as the presence of the elder Malfoy.

"Malfoy!" Ron's hiss nearly matched the low tones that the blonde had spoken in. Hermione could do nothing but stand in shock looking up at the tall man with utter surprise written upon her pale face, the book clutched so tightly to her chest that her knuckles had turned white. Malfoy was dressed head to toe in his usual black attire made up entirely of expensive velvets and silver accessories, the contrast of his blonde and the silver on black made his features seem rather striking and Hermione felt slightly inadequate in her deep plum colored robes.

"Now, now Mister Weasley," Grey eyes flickered quickly between the red head and the wavy haired brunette in front of him and filled with an unreadable emotion, "I hadn't realized I was interrupting a date. My sincerest apologies." His tone was icy, just as icy as she remembered, but there was an animosity missing that confused her.

"It's not a date, we're just friends." She wasn't sure what really make her explain herself to Lucius Malfoy; Merlin knew the man deserved no explanation from her of all people, but she couldn't resist clarifying that fact. When Ron nagged her about it later, she hurriedly explained it was best no rumors got out about them, to which he shrugged in response in belief of her quickly made-up excuse. The scent of expensive cologne drugged her senses and swam through her head, she only vaguely realized she was deeply inhaling the musky, practically tangible scent of Lucius Malfoy under Ron's scrutinizing gaze.

"Ah, I see. Well, then my apologies for the confusion. I simply meant to congratulate young Miss Granger on her graduation. The Headmistress spoke highly of your scores." The drawl of his voice, for the first time since she'd met the horrid man in that very shop all those years ago, did not sound contemptuous or even pompous. Arrogance seemed to have fallen away in shape of genuine esteem. Ron looked as if he would need a summoning charm to lift his jaw up off the floor and Hermione had a feeling her eyes belayed the shock that had nearly frozen her stiff,

"Oh. Well then thank you, Mister Malfoy." With a slow incline of his head he acknowledged her thanks,

"Your parents must be proud." Hermione and Ron both froze in anticipation, awaiting the dig at muggleborns they were sure would follow his opening statement…but it never came. Instead they were left in silence for a few long moments before Hermione lamely mustered up,

"They are, yes." Flustered and blushing under his knowing and amused gaze, she didn't like the way she turned suddenly into a bumbling schoolgirl around the darkly cloaked man. Cheeks flushed pink and knees on the verge of wobbling she stared up at Lucius with wide eyes that spoke loudly of her body's confused reaction to his proximity. Every day she swallowed down memories of being tortured on his drawing room floor and here he was instigating polite conversation with her in public? If there had been people around to witness the conversation she would have been sure he was simply working on his public image, but they were quite alone in the shop until the book master came out to ring up his order.

"Is this all, Mister Malfoy?" The older gentleman behind the counter asked of the hefty stack of books the intriguing man had set upon the counter.

"No, I would like to put in an order for Nora Fox's new book."

"Fox, you say?" The man behind the counter shuffled through his various papers curiously,

"Yes. F-O-X." Articulating strongly and sharply, the blonde glanced around the shop in a slow survey as he spoke.

"Ah yes, it'll be out next week. We'll have one on hold or shipped to the Manor, sir?"

"On hold is fine, thank you, I'll be around on Tuesday." Both hands were perched on his cane which, Hermione noticed with curiosity, seemed to be made of two types of woods. The top was the same silver snake head that she had recognized as an item of terror since childhood and the wood directly attached to the snake was dark black, but grew into a warm cherry wood color about a quarter down the cane. He had a strong jaw and rather captivating profile, she'd never really noticed before how arresting his features were. Curious eyes met her own and she realized that he had caught her staring, quickly she averted her eyes to the toes of black heels.

"Very good, sir, very good. And is that all today, Mister Malfoy?"

"No, if you could add Miss Granger's purchases, as well, and uh—Mister Weasley, were you getting anything?" Hermione was slightly peeved by his presumptuous mannerisms but tried to remind herself that the man was only trying to be nice, he probably harbored a lot of guilt from the war and was trying to relieve some of his own bad karma.

"If I was I could pay for it myself, thanks." The air seemed to slip from the room, then. Ron's snapping tone made Hermione burn in mortification, which brought more confusion upon her shoulders that she shrugged off as being humiliation for Ron's obvious lack of skills in polite society. Malfoy's eyebrows only rose in bemusement to Ron's outrage.

"I think he means that you really don't have to do that, Mister Malfoy, though it is very kind of you."

"Well, I do insist, Miss Granger. Think of it as a graduation present, hm?" Apparently unable to take no for an answer, he reached out a gloved hand and peeled the large book from Hermione's arms. A stiff smile rose onto his lips as he plucked the quill out of Ron's hand and set the purchases onto the counter to join his collection of purchases. "Ah, the freshly annotated Hogwarts, A History. It's a fine read, Miss Granger, I think you'll enjoy it. Especially his notes on the Whomping Willow, I believe your cat is rather fondly mentioned." Shock seemed to have buzzed her senses. Still, a small part of her was rather irked by his annoying manner of presuming he would know what she would enjoy to read.

"Yes, I read it this past spring. I loved it." Breathy and monotone, her voice was not the voice of the strong-willed Hermione that she tried to force it into being. A small flash of her body writhing in pain, blood caked in her hair as her brown eyes met his grey eyes from her whimpering spot on his drawing room floor—he had done nothing.

"Mm, I understand why. Brilliant mind." Whether he was speaking of Dumbledore or Hermione was left unclear. Lucius Malfoy left no time for questioning as he gently slipped the book and quill into her hands, the leather gloves whispering across her fingertips so gently that her eyes shot to his in genuine disbelief that he would allow his gloves to touch a muggleborn, though she pondered, it wasn't his actual skin. A tremor ran through her all the same as if an electric shock had jolted her to life she stared into his grey eyes, searching for some sort of hint at alternative motives besides relieving his own guilt, but finding no motives—not even the one she had already decided for him.

"Thank you." The words left her in one short exhale and for the first time in their short, though fairly uncomfortable, interaction did the man falter in what looked like awkwardness.

"Yes. Enjoy the book and the rest of your afternoon. Good day, Miss Granger." When he went to walk away he jumped quite obviously when he turned to face Ron, apparently he had forgotten about her companion's presence altogether, "Mister Weasley." With a familiar flourish of robes that seemed secondhand to those of the Slytherin house, he disappeared onto the streets of Diagon Alley with only a quick glance back into the shop.

"What a git."

"I thought he seemed rather nice, especially for Lucius Malfoy."

"Yeah just what he wants you to think, as soon as we start trusting their lot—that's when they really get us, you'll see." Ron's words stuck with her for the rest of the day, then all through dinner with an ecstatic Ginny and Harry (Ron couldn't come, he had a date with Lavender Brown and couldn't miss it seeing as it was their last chance to get together before the following day's full moon.)

"Well he's right, Hermione, as soon as you trust the enemy is when they stab you in the back." Ginny spoke as Harry worked his fingers into her shoulders, massaging her in preparation for the third round of tryouts the next day. They sat in the library of Grimmauld Place, the fire burning bright and casting shadows across their faces. Ginny's hair looked especially vibrant in the firelight and she seemed rather distracted with the sight of the fire dancing across the diamond on her finger. "Keep your friends close and enemies closer and all that, that's what Dad always said. Don't you think, Harry?"

"I dunno, Gin, maybe the guy's really changed." Harry seemed to purposefully avoid Ginny's piercing gaze by making quite pointed eye contact with Hermione. "Anything's possible, a lot of the rehab at the ministry seems to be really making changes, not surprising with Shacklebolt in charge. You ok, Hermione?"

"Fine, fine really. Honestly, I'm not sure what to make of him though. Just with the letter first and then Lucius nice—no, more than nice. Cordial, really. I've sort of got to thinking that they might all deserve a second chance, especially if they're showing remorse. Wouldn't we just be acting like them if we blamed them for things they can't change?"

"That's what Shacklebolt is saying, he's pushing hard for the rehab program to include regular raids-"

"Can't they do that already?" Ginny cut in.

"Yeah but this would pull the need for a warrant out of the process." Hermione felt even more conflicted about this idea and overall exhausted from her long day of handling not only Ron but the oddity that was the presence of Lucius. With that excuse she bid her goodbyes to her friends and went home, eager to crawl into her bed and try to figure out if this is what a normal life entailed.

Working on the next chapter, currently. Hope you're enjoying! Please let me know what you think :)