As surprisingly lovely as their lunch had, it had to come to an end.

Hermione found herself and Draco standing at the front door to her parent's home. She still had trouble thinking of it as her home alone. It was still beautiful. The small charms she had cast upon it kept the lawn looking lush, the stoop swept and cobwebs at bay. The beautiful brick façade showed no sign of wear.

Draco was mildly surprised. The home Hermione had grown up in was not as large as his Manor, but it was certainly larger than he had expected. It was clear Hermione had not grown up as destitute as her frumpy clothes of youth and her strange affiliation for the Weasleys might suggest. Although he had to admit, looking at her now, those frumpy clothes were a thing of the past. She looked well put together and very comfortable in the affluent neighborhood she had grown up in.

Whispering a simple 'alohomora' Hermione opened the front door. The home was as immaculate inside as it was outside. Hermione froze running a hand over the wooden staircase rail she was standing next to.

Upstairs, third door on the left was her father's office. She knew exactly what she would find in there. A large mahogany desk covered with framed pictures of Hermione and her mother. A painted rock Hermione had once given her father for his birthday acted as a paper weight.

The cliché of a safe behind a painting was great for movies, but Hermione knew in her father's office the safe was a large heavy box bolted to the structure of the home. It would take dynamite or a very powerful spell to remove that safe.

Odd to think then that a simple spell would open it for her, Hermione mused.

Next to that was her bedroom. It was filled with all of the little treasures of her past. There were the scrapbooks where she had saved theater and museum tickets. One scrapbook was for Hogwarts with her letter of acceptance. Pictures of her and her friends covered the walls. All spelled to be perfectly still when muggles came in of course.

Her mother's office was directly across from her father's, furnished very similarly but had no safe. Hermione smiled to think how alike her parents had been in taste and temperament. They were perfectly suited to one another. If there was to be any information found, Hermione knew it would have to be in her father's office but she still paused to look in on her mother's before she moved forward.

Draco watched the conflicting emotions cross Hermione's face. Sadness, fondness, nostalgia all moved across her features. He had an unreasoning urge to reach out and comfort her but did not dare. He was certain Hermione would not want him to embrace her even as a gesture of kindness.

Moving slowly but deliberately Hermione made her way to her father's office where she confronted the large safe. Running her hands along its face lovingly Hermione murmured 'alohomora' once again and listened as the tumblers of the safe clicked in to place and the door swung open. She pulled out packets of paper and brought them to the desk.

Draco could not help but think that such a box was at best a false sense of security. Why didn't they have a vault somewhere? Did muggles not use those?

Looking up at Draco Hermione said quietly "My parents did not drink alcohol much but there is a bottle of brandy. Would you… would you care for a glass?"

Although he was suspicious about the quality of muggle alcohol Draco never the less agreed to a glass. He knew Hermione was merely using it as a delaying tactic but he did not mind. They were in no hurry. She could take as long as she needed. He was pleasantly surprised to find the brandy quite palatable.

Hermione picked up and studied the silver letter opener on her father's desk. Another gift from her for another birthday.

Hermione reached for the first packet. Receipts for payments.

The second was life insurance policies. She had not needed these as she had a separate copy with her parent's barrister. Proving they were deceased had been a bit more difficult as they died believing they were someone else, but eventually it had been achieved.

The third packet held important documents. Her parents' marriage certificate. Their birth certificates. As much as she would like to believe the presence of a birth certificate meant she was biologically the child of Richard and Jean Granger, she knew that was not the case.

Hands trembling she reached for the fourth and final packet.

Draco watched Hermione's nerves almost get the better of her. He was ready to ask if she wanted him to open the envelope when with a slight shudder, she slid the letter opener through the manila packet and reached inside to remove the documents.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione stood up and left the room. Not saying a word, Draco followed her.

Hermione walked in to her favorite room in the house. The music room. It always soothed her. She always wished she had enough time at Hogwarts to join the music program, but dedication to Harry had always come first. She did not regret her decision, but once in awhile felt a twinge of sadness for what could have been for all of them.

She placed the documents in her hand on the beautiful white baby grand piano that had been the source of her comfort as a child. She had taken hundreds of hours of lessons at this piano. Now she let its smooth finish calm her soul as she sat down at the bench.

Once she had seated herself comfortably at the piano Hermione allowed her fingers to move along the scales before settling on to one of her favorite compositions. (*)

Draco listened to the haunting music that poured from Hermione's fingers. It seemed magical and beautiful, but sad and horrifying at the same time.

Gently, waiting for her to protest he picked up the documents she had laid down. When she did not stop him, he looked them over.

Adoption records.

It took him a few moments to realize that although her eyes were closed she was silently weeping. Tears seeped from under her long ashes leaving trails down both cheeks.

Carefully sitting at the bench next to her Draco slowly, in case she bolted, wrapped an arm around her waist in comfort.

After she finished her song Hermione turned in to Draco's chest and wept for all of the memories that would never be. The conversations she would never have with her parents.

After only a moment's hesitation, Draco pulled her close and slowly rubbed her back as she cried against him.

Draco learned one thing in that moment. Astoria Greengrass was the past. Whoever the other woman might have been to him had she lived, she was not that now. And if Hermione's soul mate were still alive, he had yet to make an appearance.

Hermione could only think how nice it felt to finally be able to grieve her parents death. Perhaps it was time she stopped being so insular and allowed her friends to comfort her as well.

They sat that way for a very long time, just content with one another.

If it seemed odd to either of them that former childhood enemies were giving and seeking comfort from one another, neither mentioned it.

(*)wwwDOTyoutubeDOTcom/watch?v=PVAWqGj33T8&list=PL345C6C29EBDCEB7E&index=11

Adrian von Ziegler – Even in Death is the song Draco hears Hermione playing on the Piano.