Chapter Four

How it Goes

I been having trouble making some decisions about the smallest changes in my life
But I haven't got the slightest bit of intuition helping me to figure out what's right
And I'll always be unhappy one way or the other

Hermione was heading home with her parents. The biggest smile adorned her face as they waited in the airport. Her parents were sitting opposite of her quietly talking to one another. She had sent Harry a letter two days previous to tell him she would be coming home very soon and that she would explain everything when she got back.

Things had been a bit awkward and weird over the last few days, but they hashed everything out. Hermione told them the abridged version of what happened during the war. She watched their horrified faces as she recounted what happened at Malfoy Manor. Her mother was crying by the end, her father giving her comfort. She didn't mention her relationship with Draco at all. Hermione deemed it unnecessary since they were no longer together. It had been a long few days, but they were closer at the end of them.

They heard the announcement that they could start boarding their plane. Hermione stood and stretched and so did her parents. They boarded their flight and sat in the same row. Hermione didn't sit by the window this time. She sat securely in the middle of her parents. Her father chuckled knowingly. She sent him a stern look before she buried her nose in one of her books she brought along.

The twenty hour flight literally flew by. She slept most of it or read. Her father tapped her on her shoulder and told her to look out of the window. She could see the familiar business of London below. The smile she wore in Australia graced her lips once again. She was home.

After grabbing their luggage, they hailed a cab since Hermione couldn't disapparate with both of them and a few bags of luggage. Hermione looked out of the window as if she hadn't seen London in her life, but it just felt good to be home and to almost have her life back to normal. Harry had been right; she did need the week away from England.

Arriving at her childhood home with her parents made everything seem real. She paid the cab driver and they walked into their house. Hermione watched them as looked around their home once again. It had been awhile since they've laid eyes on the place. Hermione thought to leave them alone to reacquaint themselves whilst she unpacks.

Hermione promised herself that she would pop over to the Burrow to see everyone for a few hours. She told her parents the plan and they told her to be home by dinner. She supposed that parental duties don't wear off even if you're a war hero. But she wasn't complaining, she did miss their overprotective concerns.

She walked to her backyard and disapparated after she made sure no one was looking. The sun was just starting to set when she touched down on the dirt path from the Burrow. She had missed the mismatched house a great deal while she was gone. She walked purposely towards it, almost at a jog.

Hermione knocked on the door in quick, short bursts. She waited impatiently for someone to open the door. When it finally did, Molly's wide grin greeted her.

"Hermione! You're home! Come in, come in!" The woman said moving aside so Hermione could walk into the house.

"How was your trip? I hope your parents are settling in well."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the woman who had come to be her second mother. "My trip went well and they are settling in quite well. I'm so happy to have them home."

"I'm glad, dear! Are you hungry?"

"No, no. Mum's cooking dinner, so I won't be able to stay long, but I'll be back tomorrow."

"All right dear. The boys and Ginny are in the backyard. They'll be so happy to see you," she beamed.

Hermione gave her a smile back and headed towards the backyard. She saw Harry, Ron, and Ginny sitting in the air on their brooms.

"Hey!" She called as she walked closer to their location.

All three of their heads whipped around at the sound. She waved her arms at them as they took off at high speeds towards her. Hermione instinctively crouched down and shrieked came rocketing towards her, but they stopped on a knut in front of her.

"Hermione, calm down. We weren't going to hit you," Ginny giggled.

Hermione stood up straight and looked at all three of their beaming faces. Ginny was the first to hug her and then Harry and finally Ron.

"I'm so happy you're back, 'Mione! You look excellent!" Ginny said hugging her again.

Hermione laughed. "I haven't been gone that long!" It was true, she hadn't been gone that long in reality, but with everything that happened during the war she knew that a week felt like half a lifetime.

"It felt longer than a week," Ron butted in.

"Well, I'm glad to be back. I've missed you all. Oh! I bought you all something, but I forgot it at home, but no matter. I have to head home soon, but I'll be back tomorrow so I can tell you everything and you all can fill me in about what you've all been up to."

"You just got back though," Harry whined.

Hermione shook her head. "Mum and dad want to have dinner tonight. Plus, it is their first night back. You'll see me so much over the summer you'll get sick of me!"

"That would never happen!" Ginny said as Ron and Harry nodded in agreement.

Hermione smiled widely at them. "Thanks."

They talked about simple things, keeping the atmosphere light. Before Hermione knew it, two hours had passed. She said goodbye to them and the four of them hugged once again. Molly pulled her into her famous bone crushing hug before she left the Burrow. It felt good to be home.

~-O-~

The next day, she came back to the Burrow bright and early. Molly let her in once again. It came as no surprise that Ron, Harry, and Ginny weren't up yet. She had the pleasure of waking the three of them. A half hour later, the three of them descended the steps in grumbling, bed tousled hair.

"What time is it anyway?" Ron asked yawning loudly.

"It's 10 o'clock, Ronald," Hermione informed him as she took a seat at the table.

He groaned.

Harry and Ginny chuckled at the redhead's morning demeanor.

"It's not that early, Ron," Harry said as he reached for a muffin.

"It is to me. It is summer after all and the war's over. I think I deserve to sleep in as long as I want."

"Aww poor Ickle Ronnie," Ginny mimicked Fred and George.

Ron shook his head and grabbed for a muffin as Harry did a moment before.

"I told you I'd be back in the morning," Hermione stated.

"And by morning, I thought you'd be back in the afternoon. You know, at a decent time."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Normal people do get up at this time."

Ron shook his head before he took a bite out of his muffin.

"Anyway, tell us about Australia," Ginny butted in before Hermione and Ron would say anything else.

Hermione told them all about Australia. She even gave them their gifts. Ron's mood improved at the mention of a gift. Hermione knew the boy was hopeless. He was like a 5-year-old stuck in a 19-year-old's body.

After Hermione was done recounting her adventure, she looked at Harry next. "Tell me about the trial."

Everyone was quiet at her request. Harry cleared his throat and sat up straight in his chair.

"I told you mostly everything in the letter I wrote you, well the most important bits. Lucius was sentenced to 10 -15 years, Narcissa got off scot free, and Draco was sentenced to wear a Tracing Anklet for a year. I don't really know if I helped the trial or not, but I knew I had to speak on their behalf."

"And I'm proud of you for doing the right thing," Hermione told him with a small smile on her face.

Harry gave her a nod in thanks.

The four of them were quiet for a bit after that.

"Oh! I got a letter from McGonagall! She told me that Hogwarts would be rebuilt by September and said that I could finish my last year. I'm going to accept. Are you three going back?"

"I am," Ginny said. "If I don't, mum and dad—especially mum—would hex me if I didn't. Especially since...Fred and George didn't finish."

"I don't think I'm going back. I just want to lay low for a bit. Maybe I'll go back eventually, but right now, no," Harry told her.

"I think I'm going to help George out in the shop, keep an eye on him for a bit. So probably not."

"Well, looks like it'll be just you and me Gin. When McGonagall sends out the list for the year, do you want to go shopping together?"

Ginny nodded. "Oh well, more fun without those two anyway."

"Hey!" Ron objected.

Hermione and Ginny laughed. "We're only joking Ron."

Ron still huffed and crossed his arms.

Harry clapped him on the back. "It'll be ok Ron. They'll be stuck in the castle writing essays and we'll be taking it easy. I think we'll be the ones who will be having more fun."

Ron perked up and then looked smug. "You're right. Have fun with that! Well, Hermione actually will have fun writing essays and doing homework."

"It's not my fault that I take great pride in my work unlike some of us," she said looking his way.

"So how about we go do something, hm?" Harry suggested before Hermione and Ron could further their disagreement.

Hermione agreed. Their little spats reminded her of years at Hogwarts. She would miss those terribly since she and Ginny were the only ones going back. She would miss being around Harry and Ron in the common room late at night, them playing chess and she completing an essay.

~-O-~

Hermione received McGonagall's owl a few weeks later with the list for her seventh and final year. She was elated to have some semblance of normalcy in her life again. McGonagall also informed her that she didn't have to stay at Hogwarts. She could do independent study for all of her classes and sit the NEWTs when the other seventh years did. Hermione liked that plan much more than being in the castle. She knew it wouldn't feel the same and she wanted to remember it the way she had before the war fully broke out.

She could get a job and get her own flat. Probably a nice flat in Diagon Alley so that she wouldn't be too far from her parents and could find a job easily for her. And she'd get to see Ron and Harry more so that way. It was perfect.

She had owled Ginny an hour after she had read over the letter to ask if she would like to get their books that afternoon. Ginny accepted readily. Hermione then wrote McGonagall back and told her she would take her up on her offer of studying independently. Hermione felt it was going to be a great day. The sun was shiny, it wasn't too hot, and her life was slowly starting to get back on track.

Hermione met Ginny at the Leaky Cauldron. They set off into Diagon Alley together, laughing and discussing what Hogwarts would be like now.

"I'm not going back to the castle. McGonagall offered me to study independently and I thought that it would be a better idea than going back to the castle. I thought it would be great going back to Hogwarts, but it wouldn't be the same. I don't know if I could handle going back. I'm sorry."

"You're so lucky. I wish I could study independently as well, but I don't have nearly enough self-discipline like you do."

"Well, during hols or during a weekend you can always come visit me at my flat just to get away."

"You have a flat now?"

"No, not yet. I plan to get one soon though."

"We really are growing up, aren't we?"

"I say that we already have considering we lived through a war. We had no choice."

Ginny nodded as they walked to Flourish & Blotts. Hermione was lost in thought when she saw a familiar shock of white-blond hair that always turned golden in the sunlight. Hermione did a double take, but there was no mistaking that shade of hair.

She felt her stomach start to flip flop at the mere sight of him. It had only been a month since she's seen him, but it felt like a lifetime. She had almost forgotten about him, almost. But trying to forget him was futile. She secretly willed him to look up at her. She needed to see those eyes that had haunted her in her dreams and nightmares.

As if he heard her, he looked up and those grey eyes held her there. Her chest was heaving and her stomach rolled like she was about to be sick. She wanted to walk, no, run to him. To throw her arms around his neck as well as punch him like she did in their third year at Hogwarts. He always seemed to make a riot of emotions play out in her body. She never knew if she was coming or going when it came to him. He seemed as stunned as she.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" Ginny's voice cut through the fog that had settled around her brain.

"Hm?" Hermione asked turning to her friend. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I thought I saw someone, sorry," she said turning her head to look back to where Draco had been standing. All she could see was his back retreating.

Hermione sighed mentally. He always seemed so close yet so far away. Maybe it was for the best that he walked away from her now before she did something to embarrass them both. She gave Ginny a reassuring smile, or so she hoped, and headed into the bookstore to buy what she came for. Her mind was still flooded with the image of Draco the whole time she was there.

Returning to the Manor, his home, felt stranger now than it had when they returned after the war. The Manor felt emptier than usual. It was probably because his father wouldn't be entering the place for a long time, or if ever again. The thought left his chest feeling hollow and cold.

He was the man of the house now. He was responsible for everything that happened there now. It was almost dreamlike to think about. He held all the power that he never wanted. He thought he did when he was a young boy. He thought he wanted a lot of things when he was younger, but now that everything was staring him in the face he realized that he didn't want any of it. But he didn't have a choice. He never had a choice.

But he decided that something was going to change. He didn't want to be his father and he knew the only way not to fall into the same routine he did was to change. And the first thing he needed to change was his father's company. It was toxic. It dealt in the Dark Arts and Draco was tired of being constantly connected to it.

Draco didn't know what the change he would bring to the company, but he knew it was necessary and that he was starting to take his first steps in the right direction.

His mother had been in a state since they sentenced his father. She was quiet and withdrawn and Draco knew that he wouldn't be able to get her to do anything so he left her alone. He could have used his 'rights' as the head of the house to get her to do whatever he wanted, but he wasn't his father. She needed time to grieve the loss of her husband. He wasn't dead, but he might as well be.

Draco told their remaining house elf to bring her tea and watch over her. The elf obeyed and Draco headed into his father's study. He hadn't stepped foot in the place in years. It didn't look how he had remembered it. It seemed to have lost its luster over the years.

The rows of books were dusty and the spines hard to read as he fingered them. He used to spend hours in here reading books and sitting in his father's chair pretending to sign things and look important, just like his father. He knew then that he couldn't pull off the same powerful scowl his father did when he was displeased with what he read or the famous raise of his eyebrow and the blank look on his face. Draco got the latter whenever he would knock on the door and enter without waiting on his father to grant him permission.

Draco stared at the leather wing-backed chair in front of him. He reached out with his right hand and rested it upon the arm rest. It was cold to the touch like no one had dared to sit in the thing for years. He moved his hand up to the back and down to the other side. This was no longer his father's chair, but his. He removed his hand, but continued to stare at the leather monstrosity. Maybe he should get rid of it and start anew.

He felt better as the thought of the idea sunk in. He knew that he wouldn't be able to rid the Manor of all of the malicious memories that it held, but he could try to erase and create as many new memories as he could now that he was in charge. Maybe now that power has fallen in his lap he could actually us it for the better and not just to wield around like an extension of his ruthlessness.

The truth was he was tired of having to be ruthless, ruthless in a way that made him seem like a complete asshole. Yes, Draco Malfoy was and still is an asshole, but he rather be that kind of asshole who is approachable. He would still be a shark when it came to the business, but he would be able to listen to opinions from others instead of shooting them down before they could utter a word like his father did.

If he could get one thing out of this whole mess, he would want it to be a reason for him to truly change the worst things about him. He wasn't going to go out and kiss the asses of Muggle-borns and say he's a changed man. No, things happen slowly or not at all. One thing at a time, she had always told him. And he knew that she was right. That's why he knew it would work out, in due time.

~-O-~

Draco noticed his mother was starting to become herself once again several weeks after the trial had transpired. She would no longer sit in her room with the windows open as she sat on one of the window seats and stare longing out of them as if she wished she could grow wings and fly away and never return. Draco had let her stay in her solitude for awhile. He knew that she did need it after everything. But he kept a close eye on her.

He had come to her room everyday and would ask her if she would like to join him outside in the garden she had dearly loved for tea. She would always politely refuse. Draco wouldn't push it any further and would simply turn on his heel and stalk out of her room. But he would return the next day and ask the same question.

He didn't know if she just got tired of him coming into her room day after day asking the same damn question or if she truly was better. They really didn't speak about his father. Draco thought that she was worried she would upset him and vice versa. So they would speak of random topics and would speak in low voices like they would get in trouble by some unseen force if they spoke at a normal volume.

And that was how they lived their lives together for about a week and a half before Narcissa brought something up that Draco didn't feel very comfortable about at all.

"When are you going to start taking an active role in your father's business?" She had asked him as she sipped delicately from her teacup.

Draco set his own down and looked at her piercing blue eyes before he looked away from them. "I don't know, Mother. Hopefully soon. I need to make a few changes."

"Oh? What are you going to do?"

His grey eyes flickered over to her face once again and then back down at his untouched scone. "I don't quite know yet."

She nodded her head and took another sip of her tea. She barely made a sound as she drained her cup.

"Would you like more tea?" Draco asked quietly, the unseen force was back in the room again. Draco would later think of the unseen force as the 'elephant' in the room, the stuff he rather not speak about now or maybe ever.

"No thank you, dear. I think I'm going to take a walk out in the garden. I haven't been out there in…a long time." Not since before the war broke out and the Dark Lord moved into our home.

Draco stood and made to walk around the table to help her from her chair (like any gentleman should), but she held her dainty hand up to stop him.

"It's okay Draco. I can manage," she said before she scooted her chair back gracefully and without a sound and stood.

Draco watched her from his position. He often wondered if there was a silencing charm on the bottoms of the chairs so that they didn't make any obnoxious noise. He would have to ask his mother as some point, but all he could do was watch her as she made her way to the grand French doors and open both and disappear.

Draco felt his chest constrict and his stomach plummet at the irrational thought that floated through his head. Seeing her disappear outside like that felt like she was leaving him and it unnerved him. He didn't understand why he felt that way, but maybe it was the war mentality he still kept snuggled close to his mind just in case. But he knew it was stupid. She wouldn't leave him, too, not like his father had. He would always have her around.

He had to stop himself from running to the doors and calling out for her. He knew that if he did, she would look at him with those piercing ice blue eyes of hers and tell him that she was fine and he need not worry about her. But he couldn't help that he did. She was technically all he had left and that was particularly his fault. He felt like a small child, unknowing what to do with himself. To hang on to his mother's skirt like he did when he was a toddler or to finally stand on his own two feet and take the situation he had been dealt into his own hands. And he knew that he must finally be an adult. His time had finally come.

~-O-~

Draco was wandering not quite aimlessly around Diagon Alley. He never understood how one could wander aimlessly. You would have to make a decision to make your feet walk. And if you were struck with a crossroads you had to take one of the directions. You may not be completely there mentally, but it's not aimless. You have to make a decision.

But that was life anyways. You have to make decisions of you'll stand at that crossroads until you do. You can wait and let someone tell you where you should go or you can make yourself decide. And Draco was tired of waiting for someone to give him orders so he finally took everything into his own hands.

He had met with the man that was temporarily running or rather holding the fort down until Draco decided to man up and take the company as his own. His name was Alexander Cook III. Draco lost count at how many times he brought up the 3rd. He just wanted to sign the papers and be done with this man.

When Draco had signed the last of the documents, he silently thanked Merlin. Alexander Cook the bloody III held out his hand over the table and Draco shook it firmly before he stood and exited the café. Draco walked into the bright sunshine of late morning. He shielded his eyes against it before he turned his head away from it.

Thus began his not so aimless wandering. He was making conscious of where his feet were going, but he was also conscious of where his feet were not allowed to go. He never really paid much attention to his Tracing Anklet until he was out in public. The thing seemed to feel cold against his skin even though it was quite sweltering outside. He had noticed that it didn't light up until he was close to a place where he shouldn't be, like Knockturn Alley. He had no desire to go down into that dingy hole. He was simply walking passed it and toward Flourish & Blotts.

But something or rather, someone stopped him dead in his tracks. He could recognize that mop of curly mahogany hair anywhere. But of course denial and rationally slammed into the forefront of his mind. He rationalized it could be anyone. There were other women who had unruly brown curls that looked like a disaster upon their heads, but he knew he was kidding himself. He knew that no one could ever pull them off like she could.

He quickly averted his eyes and walked over to a window to make himself look as if he was rather absorbed in the display that he had no idea what it was. His mind wasn't on window display. It was on her movements. His brain willed her to look at him. He just wanted to see her face, the face that haunted his dreams. The damn face that comforted him more so than (he knew) anything would. He watched her walk with the female Weasley down the cobbled street, the whole time pleading with whomever to make her look his way.

And someone answered his prayers, apparently. Hermione Granger looked over at him as if she had seen a ghost. And she may have considering that he was staring at her back unabashed. Looking at her now, he realized he forgot so many details of her face. The light smattering of freckles on her nose that only seem to stand out when she was standing in natural light, the way her hair had natural red streaks when it hit the light, and the way her eyes looked amber and lit up when she recognized something. And that something was him.

He felt the tug in his chest like she had this invisible string attached to her wrist that was looped around his heart. He felt the pull of her very being as his feet moved an inch and then another and then another before he blinked several times like he had gone lame and stopped his decent into madness. Because it surely would have been madness. He would have gone over to her and placed his hands on the sides of her face and kissed her like he meant to at the end of the war—like he would never stop. And he knew that she would smack him, but he didn't quite care considering he would have those lips that he's been dreaming about on his once again—where they belonged. And he would hope that she didn't hate him and that she'd fall into his arms and everything would be like it was, but better.

And he knew that wouldn't, couldn't happen. She had to hate him. He had abandoned her and never said a word to her thereafter. Draco had to stop staring at those eyes of her before he made a complete fool of himself and ran to her without having a second thought. So he swiftly turned his back to her, severing the connection that he so willingly longed for and closed his eyes. He could see her feature etched perfectly behind his closed eyelids and part of him was thankful for that. He had forgotten so much of her perfection that he didn't want to ever lose it.

He finally opened his eyes and they were staring into the sun once again. It blinded and blurred his vision, but he felt that he could stand it. It dulled the terrible ache in his chest of having her so close, but so far away. He willed his feet to move and they did, back to the way he had come. He wanted to look back at her, but he forced himself to move forward and keep walking.

Author's Note: Hello all! I just couldn't stay away! I made a few changes to the other chapters. Nothing major, so don't worry. It was just a few grammar things here and there.

So they've finally seen each other! I liked writing Draco's emotions. I hope they don't seem too...much. But I hoped you enjoyed the chapter. Until next time mes amis!

And sorry for the technical difficulties. I don't know what's going on with this site anymore.

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own anything. I merely borrow characters and twist them into random plots.