Hermione sat at her kitchen table, tapping her fingers idly. Malfoy's passage from Pride and Prejudice sat in front of her. What was the proper response to this? Though the gesture was sweet, she knew he had only done it because he wasn't used to rejection, especially not from …people like her. She sighed, blowing a stray curl out of her face. She wished she could talk to Ginny about this, for she had way more experience when it came to men then Hermione. But she knew if she started confiding in Ginny, she would have to tell her when this all began, and she would in turn tell Harry and Ron, who would be furious with her. It would be a nightmare. She frowned, shifting in her seat. Should she write a brief thank you note? She shook her head, rejecting the idea. Malfoy didn't deserve that acknowledgement. In fact, he hadn't even asked her out. He had ordered her.

"Go to dinner with me."

Her eyes narrowed as she thought about that. He really was quite arrogant. But, though she wasn't yet sure he was being honest that night on the bridge when he expressed a desire to change, she had to admit he was certainly less arrogant as an adult then he was in their Hogwart's days. Still, he needed to be taken down a peg or two.

Inspiration struck suddenly, and Hermione's eyes lit up. Biting her lip, she got a piece of parchment and a quill.

"You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner."

She sat back, satisfied. Two could play at Malfoy's little game. Humming happily to herself, she rolled up the note and got her shoes. She needed to borrow Ginny's owl.

…

Ginny and Harry's place was crowded when she arrived. Harry was back from his match, and everyone had gathered to greet him and congratulate him on his win. Ron was lounging on the sofa, his hands behind his head. He flashed her warm grin. Luna and her husband Rolf were perched on a loveseat, and Neville was standing by the window. Harry himself was in an armchair, Ginny on his lap. George was standing by the fireplace with Angelina Johnson and little Teddy Lupin sat on the floor, playing with a toy train. Hermione greeted them all and made her way to the kitchen. After sending her letter to Malfoy off with Harry's great-horned owl Kuscos, she went to join the others.

"Hey, Hermione, how have you been?" Neville beamed at her.

She smiled back. "I'm quite well. How about yourself, Professor? "

Neville grinned. "Brilliant! I love teaching. It's really my thing, you know? Though we could still use a competent Transfiguration teacher…the one we've got know is rubbish. Couldn't transfigure a turnip into a button is she tried."

Hermione shook her head regretfully. "I doubt Minerva would give me another go."

Harry looked at her. "Would you want to teach, then? For sure?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Yes," she said honestly. "I would. I wasn't in a very good place there for a while, but I think I'm getting a little better. Teaching is something I would enjoy and excel at, I think."

"Then you should owl McGonagall," George encouraged, his arm around Angelina.

Ginny agreed. "I keep telling you puttering about an empty flat all day isn't good for you."

Harry smiled crookedly at her. "Go on, then. Owl her."

Hermione shook her head. "I can't. I just sent Kuscos out, remember?"

Ron frowned. "Yeah, who are you owling, anyway?"

Hermione shrugged vaguely. "Just a friend."

Ginny's brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. "The same friend who decorated your flat with flowers the other day?"

"What?" Ron asked, sitting up.

"What type of flowers?" Luna asked with interest.

"That's so sweet," Angelina said.

Hermione raised a hand. "It wasn't…romantic or anything. It was just a joke."

Ron looked skeptical. "Who would send you flowers as a joke?"

Harry frowned as well, his emerald eyes piercing as he stared at her.

"It's nothing," Hermione said. "Honestly. You lot are the biggest gossips in Britain1"

Harry's face suddenly relaxed, and he chuckled a bit. "So that's how it is, then. I thought as much."

"What, love?" Ginny asked.

Harry waved her question away. "Nothing, nothing." He winked at Hermione, who frowned in puzzlement. "So," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Who saw the match?"

While the others rehashed Harry's performance, Hermione slipped into the kitchen for a glass of water. She startled as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, his blue eyes intent.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I'm fine."

"You look loads better. Not," he added hastily, "that you didn't look good before. I mean, you always look good. I mean, er…" His ears grew red as he trailed off.

Hermione laughed. "I know what you mean, Ron." She looked at him fondly.

They had dated briefly for about two months after the final battle of Hogwarts. Their break-up had been mutual, for both had quickly realized that when their lives weren't in mortal peril, the sparks between them just weren't there. They had segued back into friendship without any overly awkward moments. Ron had gotten back with Lavender for a while and Hermione had rekindled her romance briefly with Victor Krum.

"Well," said Ron, still red. "If somebody is harassing you…"

"Nobody is harassing me," Hermione assured him. He looked unconvinced, but nodded.

"Hey, so my mum is having dinner at her place Sunday. Harry and Ginny will be there, of course, and I know she'd love to see you. It's been awhile, and you know how Mum worries."

Hermione chuckled. Molly Weasley always clucked disapprovingly at her when she came to visit.

"Skin and bones," she'd sniff, as though Hermione's weight was a personal offense.

"I'd love to go," she told Ron sincerely. "Hopefully by then I will have been able to owl Minerva as well."

Ron nodded. "You really ought to get your own owl."

"Perhaps I will," she replied thoughtfully. Crookshanks may not like it, but she was sure she could convince him.

"Well," Ron said, "we should get back in there before the others miss you." He gave her a small smile and a fond pat on the arm before joining the others in the living room. Hermione got her glass of water, taking a small sip while staring out the kitchen window.

She wondered if Malfoy would respond to her letter. Then she shook her head firmly. She didn't care if he did or not. Clearing him from her mind, she chugged her water and then went back to her friends.