The first few days were easy. Relatively speaking. Hermione finds Draco to be quiet much of the time. Pensive. He is taking in the new world with a bit of wonder. Unfortunately it is all very surface level thus far. It's not a terribly difficult thing to live in a new place for a short time. Like being on a vacation of sorts. Reality, however, starts to sink in. By the end of the week, he is stir crazy.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do all day while you're at work?"

Hermione sighs in response. Quiet though he was the first couple of days, pensive though he may have been, he has been reaching the territory of being fucking moody since last night. Uncharitably she almost thinks to say 'what did you do all day in prison?' Instead, she plasters a professional smile on her face.

"What did you do all week when I was gone? Watch some television. Read a book. Cook something. Look, Malfoy, next week we'll start getting you out and about more. We'll take you over to the university and look at their magic-use class schedule. It's about time you held a wand again. I imagine that is a large part of this… irritability you feel."

"Irritable? Is that your word for it? I'm going bleeding mad sitting here all day. And fuck yes I need my wand back. Can you imagine not doing magic for seven years?"

"Yes: 'Irritable'. That seems an apt description. Hang in a few more days alright? And if you're so terribly bored you could help out around the house a bit. Vacuum or something."

"Oh no. I'm not touching that black hole machine."

"Oh my God, Malfoy, it's not a black-," she stops and makes a wiping motion with her hand as if to wave away her annoyance. "Forget it. Just read or something. I'll come home early today alright? I'll bring some take-away and we can start that Lord of the Rings marathon we talked about. No work tomorrow. We can stay up all night and watch the whole thing…if you can handle it," she challenges with a smile.

Arms crossed, he flops onto the sofa and huffs. "Fine. Tikka Masala. And be here by five or we'll never make it through all three."

Hermione smiles to herself as she collects her bag and leaves.

XXXXX

Draco does not always admit being impressed by muggle things (outside of food and his mobile) but he must say that films just made the short list. When Hermione had arrived, true to her word, with all three epic movies, based on some of the few muggle books Draco had ever read ("It had wizards so my parents thought it was okay," he had told her), he watched with rapt attention and child-like wonder. Knowing muggles don't actually have magic and goblins and such made it all that much more interesting.

"They call it 'movie magic' for a reason. Muggles may not have spells but they are pretty innovative. It's amazing what the human brain can accomplish when you don't have a wand to fall back on."

"What are you saying? Wizards are lazy?" He asks with a scowl but his tone is just almost teasing.

"I'm simply saying that… 'necessity is the mother of invention' I guess. Now that humanity is joined, muggles and magic all in one, I think it will be fascinating to see what happens next." She allows a little of her true passion to take over her voice. Hermione Granger is honestly excited about the future. Afraid of course. Apprehensive. Things could go south really fast if Integration is less than successful. But really, magic and potions and come-to-life mythology meets electricity and the internet? The possibilities are staggering.

As the last credits roll, Draco starts to stand from the sofa to retire for the evening when Hermione stops him. "I think I mentioned it in passing, but we have plans tomorrow night."

He looks back at her in question, one eyebrow asking for more information.

"Harry and Ginny invited us to their home. I think it would do you good to get out anyway. We've hardly done anything outside of my flat since your first day."

"My first social foray and it has to be with a Weasel." He groans but there is no real bite in his tone so Hermione lets it slide.

She snarks back, equally toothless, "It could have been worse. We could be going to Ron's place."

Draco offers a firm "At that, Good night" to his keeper, refusing to be grateful for small favors (though in truth the thought of having a meal with the Weasel King was enough to make him shudder so he is indeed quite grateful).

Chancing one last glance, he takes her in while she is turned away, focused on the screen. Hermione tends to watch her television with her legs curled beneath her, one shoulder resting against the arm of her sofa. Clad in only pajama pants and a tank top, it is not lost on him how intimate their evenings have become. Quite quickly at that. Her toes had nearly brushed his thigh when he shifted. Looking at her now, curly mane of shiny hair and creamy skin, it occurs to Draco, not for the first time since he moved in, that he had not so much as seen a real woman in years. It is palpable, the affect it is starting to have on him. Swotty, bossy Granger has become his nightly wank material.

Obviously because she's the only female in the vicinity, he thinks.

She thinks the lack of wand is making him irritable? Please. It's nothing compared to the physical frustration, her cuddled up not a meter away from him with that

One.

Fucking.

Strap.

Barely hanging on her shoulder. Taunting him to pull it down.

That tiny strip of skin bared when her top rides up over the curve of her hip. Begging him to slide it up.

He realizes he is staring just as she turns and notices him still there.

"Do you need anything before bed?"

"I- no. Just thinking. Night, Granger."

She smiles; that cute, almost one-sided grin she has where she keeps her lips pressed together and her right cheek dimples deep. "See you in the morning."

Draco stifles a groan and throws himself back into the sanctuary of his bedroom, running a hand through his hair, exasperated. He's not sure if he's more frustrated in need of a warm body in his bed, or at himself for which body he is currently lusting after in his waking hours. Hermione fucking Granger of all the witches in the world.

Sure, she makes decent bacon.

Sure, she has been incredibly kind. More than he deserves probably, entitled prat that he used to be.

Sure, she has the most perfect, unblemished, peaches 'n' cream complexion he has ever seen.

Sure, she walks around in the flat in those little tanks that allow a tantalizing peek at her rounded cleavage and showing off her neck and shoulders, her hair cascading down her back, ending just above her adorable little apple shaped bum, one errant curl nearly always falling into her rich, chocolate eyes, making her huff at it with a breath expelled between her parted, plump, pink lips…

Draco nearly slams the bathroom door on his way to alleviate his currently worked-up state.

XXXXXX

Saturday morning Hermione wakes earlier than she anticipated with a groan. Having stayed up quite late watching that movie marathon with Draco, she expected to sleep a little later than this. She's not sure why her body is pulling back to consciousness then she hears what must be the source repeating itself.

"Come on, Granger. I cook; you clean. That's the deal. So come eat so you can clean. Besides, I don't make my world-famous omelets to see them go cold."

She groans again, more loudly so he can hear then answers back. "Are you kidding me? What the hell time is it even?"

Suddenly the door is flung open and Hermione yelps, dragging her covers up over her shoulders and staring at him with wide eyes. Draco is standing in the doorway with his arms folded.

He watches her panicked expression and rolls his eyes. "Oh for Merlin's sake… you lounge around every night in your pajamas. I don't think you need to be so shy. I've seen your stupid plaid pants."

Her mouth parts to respond but she doesn't get a word out when he marches forward and makes as if to rip the blanket away from her.

"Come on. Up you go."

She clings to the quilt with surprising strength and their struggle goes from his initial light-hearted tug to more of a serious battle for dominance.

"You're being ridiculous! Get. Up. Salazar, but you're a stubborn woman."

She finally manages, after some false starts of "stop" and "Draco please" to rush out, "I don't sleep in pajamas, alright?! Leave off!"

Draco promptly drops the corner of the fabric and backs away a step, a smirk forming on his face. Working out the situation he asks slowly but succinctly, "Golden Girl Granger sleeps in the buff?"

She looks away, pink staining her cheeks. "Not entirely."

"Just knickers then, is it?" He quirks an eyebrow, smirk evolving into a nearly Cheshire grin. She only glares back.

He decides staying any longer would probably earn him a good hex, but that he certainly has new material for his private time tonight. Shaking his head he turns to leave the room. "Breakfast when you're decent," he calls over his shoulder, almost chuckling as he goes.

When the door shuts behind him, Hermione flops back onto her pillow with a huff, the hungry look on his face as he eyed her bare shoulders not lost on her in the slightest.

XXXXX

"No one else. Just us, Harry, and Ginny." She knocks on the door with three confident raps.

"Thank Merlin for that." After breakfast, Draco had started hounding Hermione on what the evening would entail. He honestly isn't as nervous about it as he is letting on. It's just fun to see her in a huff, defending the honour of her friends.

The door opens to reveal Ginny Potter smiling at her friend. "Hey, Hermione!"

The ladies embrace and then Ginny moves aside. Hermione looks over at Draco expectantly and he takes the cue, walking inside and standing awkwardly in the foyer.

"Well, Malfoy, how is casa de la Granger treating you?"

"Well enough," is his stiff reply.

"Would you both like a drink?" Harry approaches from the hallway wearing what looks like an apron crossed with a bullet proof vest.

Hermione laughs as she hugs him briefly. "What the hell are you wearing?"

He grins a proud yet sheepish grin. "It's my tactical chef's apron. George got it for me for Christmas from some muggle grilling magazine."

"I think it's pretty boss personally," Ginny giggles.

"So anyway, drinks?" Harry looks at Draco who is sizing him up with a combination of interest and mockery.

"Fire whiskey?" It's all he knows to ask for.

Hermione walks over to her friend's bar and starts pulling out ingredients. "Oh no, no. That's boring. Remember how much you love Fish and Chips? And Jelly Babies? Muggle alcohol is equally superior. Let me mix you a Southside." She grins and muddles mint into a shaker. Draco sees a bottle labeled Belvedere, amongst other things, and watches her squeeze the juice from a lemon and a lime like a pro.

When she's finished, she pours equal servings into four high ball glasses with a sprig of mint and hands them around.

"See this is why we invite you over. You make the best drinks." Ginny offers her friend a quick high five then takes a deep pull from her glass.

Hermione laughs in response. "This is why I come. You have the best stocked bar in London."

Draco doesn't admit how damn tasty the drink is but he leaves nary a drop at the bottom.

Watching her through dinner, Draco is struck by how relaxed and open she can be. It's like Hermione Granger is this entirely other person he's not really seen. A witch he would have told you he's known most of his life and yet she's a stranger in many ways. Not to discount their week together. She has been charming, giving, and kind. Not to mention increasingly alluring. He would swear her tank tops are getting tighter by the day.

Maybe that last bit is just his imagination.

And just for the record, the angel on Draco's shoulder would whisper in his ear: If it was only her proximity as a female he was so drawn to, he would be equally fawning over the fiery red head seated next to Potter. But no, his eyes are glued to Hermione's mouth as she speaks, to her hair as it falls over her milky shoulder, her delicate hands moving wildly to illustrate her passionate thoughts…

"So when do you get your wand permit, Draco?"

He snaps back to attention, realizing he has missed the better part of ten minutes of conversation. He tries to smoothly cover his faux pas. "That's up to Granger. I'm a humble charge, following her lead and cooking her meals." He offers a grin, a pretty genuine one if he does say so himself.

Ginny feigns shock and looks to Hermione. "He's cooking for you? Geez where can I get one?" She says a little sarcastically but with a large smile.

"What I don't get," Harry pipes up, "is how you make such amazing drinks and such wretched food."

Harry is rewarded with a sour look from his friend and she grits out, "we all have our gifts."

Draco looks from one Potter to the other. "Is it that bad? She roped me in to cooking on day one."

"They're exaggerating. You've had my breakfast. It was good right?" Hermione is looking at him expectantly.

He can't help but tease back in response. "Come to think of it I only had bacon and toast. I don't know if that's 'breakfast' per say…"

Ginny pretends to cough, covering her accusation, "cough-ChristmasTurkey-cough."

"That was one time! Who thought to put a plastic bag inside a bird anyway? It's unnatural." Hermione huffs and takes a spoonful of the stew Ginny had made.

"This isn't terrible, by the way," Draco offers. He's finding that being relaxed and mildly pleasant is oddly easy around this particular Weasel.

"Heh, thanks. High praise from a Slytherin I suppose. I found the recipe online."

Draco cocks his head "The… 'internet' right? Granger showed me a little."

Harry lifts his glass in a bit of a salute. "When you figure it out you can teach me. I'm still a bit rattled by it."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione grins and teases, "You're such an old man sometimes, Harry."

"That's what she said about your driving too," Draco offers innocently. He looks over to find Granger glaring at him and gives her a syrupy sweet smile. "Was I not supposed to tell him that?"

Ginny sits back from the table and announces as if a decision has been made, "Alright, I like him better now. Next quiddich game, you're going with us, Malfoy."

Too stunned to respond, Draco glances around the table then fells his gaze on Potter. "I get the idea you don't make many decisions."

"Pfft. Mate, you have no idea."

The table laughs, Ginny most of all.

"So there's still quiddich?"

"Oh Merlin yes! Muggles just love it," Ginny squeals out.

"But the players have to wear helmets in league play," Hermione offers. "Muggles at least have sense enough to protect their brains when zipping around hundreds of feet up." She says it primly, sitting up straight and taking a delicate bite of her food.

The other three roll their eyes at her. Draco is a little jarred to be bonding with his old rival over the motherly tone of Hermione Granger.

After dinner, the friends share a few more drinks before retiring for the night. Harry, who has had the least of anyone, offers to drive Hermione and Draco home in her car. He kisses his wife on the cheek and says he will Apparate right back once he sees them home safely. Draco is bemused how utterly submissive the man seems to the little redhead. She must either be scary when she's angry or an amazing lay. Probably both. The two seem to go hand in hand.

"Thanks for the ride, Harry!" Hermione calls back to her friend a little too loudly, waving in a wide arc.

Following her into the flat, Draco calls after her, "you may have had a bit too much to drink, Granger." She misses the fact that he ironically stumbles over the threshold.

She laughs a little. "I'm fine, Draco. Let's watch something, yeah?" He notices her voice has a more cockney flavor after a few vodka cocktails; her proper, precise diction failing her a little as she relaxes.

He smiles indulgently. Warning bells alight in the back of his head but he's not going to pay those any heed. Not with this happy-go-lucky witch patting the sofa next to her, giving him that inviting grin.

When he takes his seat on his end of the sofa she curls up closer than usual, with her body turned the opposite direction. Her feet face the arm instead of the center so her body is perched rather close to his own.

He swears he can smell her hair. He knows what it smells like: Ginger and Citrus. She bought him the same shampoo for the loo in his room. Plus her end of the couch always smells like it. He knows because he likes to sit on that side while she is at her office. He's even turned his nose to the cushion and breathed deep, searching for her scent.

She's not wearing her usual skimpy sleepwear but it doesn't matter. Her proximity, even in jeans and a sensible sweater, has him vibrating.

"Fancy some Iron Chef?"

Draco turns to chuckle at her, finding humour in her choice to watch people doing something she is miserably bad at. When he finds his nose nearly touching her silky hair, the laughter dies in his throat. He looks down at her with lidded eyes and inhales, a bit more shallow and shaky than he'd have liked.

Her head tilts up to look at him and they are deliciously close. His gaze darts between her eyes. "Draco?"

One more shuddering breath and he forces himself to turn away and smile casually. "Sure. Iron Chef. Sounds great."

They watch for about half of one competition when Draco finally speaks again. "Granger?"

"Hmm?" She looks up again. Their faces aren't quite so close together this time, but she is looking demurely through her lashes and he nearly loses his train of thought.

"Thank you. I've not said it. You've been really…hospitable. You didn't have to be. So… thank you."

She smiles and shoulders checks him lightly. "Of course. It's my job, silly. You're welcome."

Her job.

Nodding, Draco stiffens and sits quietly a few moments before excusing himself for the night. The intimacy lost. Or maybe he only imagined it there.

A/N ok so back from Mexico but really fell behind on writing while I was away (as expected). I have 2 more chapters written but one of them is a conflict scene a little farther into the story. I still hope to keep a 1-2 chapters each week schedule though. It's too early in the story to hit hard on the romance, but I think a little lust is totally appropriate at this juncture, based on proximity if nothing else. But you can also see by Draco's thoughts at least that he is finding a respect for Hermione that takes his attraction above being purely physical.

As always, here is a shameless plea for reviews! I gobble them like candy! And a thank you to the faves and follows I've collected so far. Reviews I try to respond to directly but the faves and follows are also super appreciated and I don't want it to go unsaid