A/N: Takes place a good ten years down the road. Hermione is NOT dating Ron.

Disclaimer applies: I own naught.

Note: context is that of post-war. Draco helps Harry because of Hermione's counsel and is hailed as a hero alongside a whole bunch of other people who've helped in numerous indispensible ways. Only problem is there's a faction of vengeful people on Harry's side who want revenge on all those who were on the other side and since both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy are dead and no one remains in the Malfoy line except Draco, they accuse him.

The back-log of justice in a war can last for a long time. Example: Rwandan Genocide. Murderers were still being tried and convicted twenty to fifty years down the road by the UN International Criminal Court. It's perfectly feasible that Draco be pulled out of a peaceful existence ten years down and convicted of murders his parents committed.

Fic starts Here.

Draco sat on a bench, beside his lawyer, rubbing his eyes. His stunning charm and looks hadn't faded but he looked exhausted. The case had taken a lot out of him. Today was the day the verdict would come out. His heart hadn't stopped pounding since the night before. He felt light headed and giddy. He could do nothing but pray.

He looked out amongst the people who were following his highly controversial case. Potter hadn't turned out. He'd been hoping that maybe—just maybe he'd vouch for him but… Oh who was he kidding? He resigned himself to whatever was coming.

"Before the Jury collects its votes, I'd like to ask as the Judge and distributor of Peace in this court if anyone else would like to speak for or against Mr. Draco Malfoy to sway the Jury's votes. Has anyone been left out? Remember, Mr. Draco is not his father. It has been proven by Harry Potter himself that his father and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named held him in their control under dire consequence of harming his mother." There was silence.

"Voldemort," came a clear voice from somewhere in the court room. There was uproar.

"Silence!!" The judge roared. "Repeat yourself, only if it is of use to this trial."

"Call him Voldemort. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself. I vouch for Draco." It was a girl, but his mind was overloading trying to figure who it was, and where he'd heard it before.

"Who are you?" the judge asked.

Someone stood up. They were dressed in a long dark cloak, hood covering face. She lifted the hood, and his mind went blank as she said, "Hermione Granger."

He whispered to himself, "impossible," but there she was. People were getting to their feet in respect and young men and women were appraising her appearance as elder men and women appraised her countenance. He was saved.

The People who had never expected such a famous figure in their midst, who had never expected to see, let alone witness the great Hermione Granger. Everyone knew she was synonymous with Harry Potter—she had been with him even when his best friend had left him. She had been through thick and thin. Voldemort would never have been defeated if not for her intelligence. The Jury was swayed the moment she put her vote in for Draco.

Momentarily, in the uproar, Draco fell to his knees and sent up a prayer. He'd never really been religious but there was no harm. The only thing left to figure out was why she'd helped him.

The case was over in half a breath and he was free to go. He hugged his lawyer and ran after the rapidly moving cloaked figure of Hermione Granger. Unfortunately he didn't catch her. He wouldn't accept that—she had to know how much he appreciated it. She was like an Angel.

Suddenly, memories of that last ball in Hogwarts. It just clicked together. She was his Angel—the very same. It was like finding something sane and beautiful in a world where everything was crazy and ugly.

He racked his mind. Where did she work? Oh yeah! She was an Auror. He could find her there. He wasn't an Unspeakable for nothing.

The very next day, he went to a florist, bought twelve red roses and made his way to the Auror head office. He was stopped at the receptionist. "Hey," he grinned and she looked stunned. He was glad he still had it. "Hey," he repeated, "can I get in and see Hermione Granger?"

"Why?" the receptionist—Lisa asked.

"She stood up for in court yesterday. I just want to thank her."

She smiled. "Sure, I'd let you, but she isn't in right now. She'd out in the field."

He frowned. "Oh. Well, Lisa, d'ya mind keeping them here and giving them to her for me? She'll be back today right?"

"Yeah, but don't you want to leave a note?" the girl asked. She could practically see a future in which tiny little Grangers were running around, with this man's beautiful eyes.

"Oh, yeah, shit. Just hang on, I'll get a paper."

"Don't worry. I have some." He rewarded her with another bright smile.

He scribbled a note and she just read it upside down.

He'd pinned it to the flowers and smiled brightly before running off. She hadn't had the chance to ask who this beautiful, charming man was. Hermione Granger had only stood up for one man, Draco Malfoy. Surely this wasn't him? He was so charming!

Later on…

Hermione returned to her office covered in mud. Daphne Greengrass laughed and came over to lend her some clothes.

Over the low door, she could just see Lisa the receptionist winding her way through the maze of cubicles with a bouquet of red roses. She sighed. She was happy for whoever got them—they weren't alone.

Suddenly, there was a knock, and she called for the person to come in. He was stunned. It was Lisa. She was heralded by the heavenly scent of roses.

"Hey 'Mione!"

"Hiya Lisa. Who're they for? They're beautiful!"

"They're for you of course!" Lisa exclaimed, laughing.

"Me? From whom?" she demanded.

"If deductive skill are contagious and I've got some from being around all of you, they're from Draco Malfoy."

"Draco?"

"Oh, we're on a first name basis, aren't we?" Lisa smirked—a foreign expression on her face.

Hermione felt herself blushing. "Long story."

Lisa grinned, happy. "I'll bet it is." Hermione deserved it. She was always so nice to everyone. She wouldn't be surprised if Malfoy had been in love with her for a long time, along with Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter.

Hermione touched the flowers and felt a note. She took it out.

You shattered my Masquerade.

Thank you.

Love,

Your Mortal.

Definitely Draco. She grinned. How could he have remembered after so long? How did he even know it was her? Oh well.

Draco came in the next day and was informed by a smug Lisa that she was overjoyed. He sneakily asked her if Hermione was single, and she replied yes. His face had lit up like a candle and Lisa had thought it worthwhile. As he was bounding out of the lobby, he slammed into someone, sending papers crashing to the ground.

"Sorry!" he exclaimed and together they bent down to pick them up.

"It's okay," she said after they'd stood up, and he froze.

"Hermione!" He whispered and she looked up, stunned at the sound of emotion in his voice.

They stood there in the lobby, on shiny marble floors and stared at each other. Hermione didn't understand how she'd never seen this in Draco. Never expected that he could be so passionate. Before either of them knew what was happening, he'd swept her up into a kiss and she dropped her papers and kissed back. Lisa just watched dreamily.

It was surprising how knowing what a person was, or rather knowing what a person was not could teach you so much.

Well? REVIEW!!

Postscript of Epilogue

Harry strode into the lobby of the Auror office, and spinned and walked straight back out and leaned against a wall. He held out a hand and stopped Ron from walking in. "You really don't want to," he'd whispered. Ron had gone in anyway and he'd come back similarly.

"Ew. Ew on a million levels."

Harry just laughed. Hermione had been alone too long. She deserved it.