"Rise and shine!" Hermione knocks first but doesn't pause terribly long before pushing into Draco's room. She is considering this pay back for the 'Granger sleeps in the buff' incident on omelet morning. She has found him to be not so much a morning person thus far and delights in waking him with an overtly cheerful tone. "Come on, Draco, the day won't start itself!"

A muffled growl rises from the bed. All she can see is his platinum hair above his sheets, his face buried in the pillow.

"What the fuck does that even mean? And what time is it?!"

"It's just after six."

"Six!?" He rolls over and cracks one eye just enough to glare at her, if one can glare properly with one eye. "Why would you think I want to be up at six?"

She rolls her eyes and grins. "It's your first day of class of course."

"Granger. Class is at ten. So again, why the fuck am I awake at six?" He speaks slowly, as if to a child. His teeth are grit and Hermione is doing her best not to snicker.

In her most serious and placating tone, "Draco I thought you'd be terribly excited. Plus, I was hoping you'd make us breakfast and I wanted to make sure you had plenty of time."

Another growl and Draco is throwing his sheet off, sitting up angrily. "Fine! Merlin, I'm up, woman."

The smile slides from Hermione's face as she realizes the folly to this little plan. She hadn't really considered Draco might sleep unclothed as well. Lesson learned.

He is sitting on the edge of the bed with a sheet barely pooled over his lap, rubbing at his eyes, completely unaware of the blush creeping up her cheeks. A tactical retreat is probably in order. Unfortunately she seems to have short circuited and continues to stare at his bare thighs, chest and toned arms; the old Sectumsempra scar adding an alluring imperfection to his Addonis form.

She's not lucky enough for him to not notice her stare and ends up on the other end of his infuriating smirk. "I thought I'd take a page from your book, Granger. Really is much more comfortable without all that extra fabric."

"I um…," she swallows and shakes her head a little, squeezing her eyes shut. "Sorry. I was just surprised. I'll just leave you to get dressed and… I'll see you out there." She flies from the room as though Voldemort himself was giving chase and slams the door behind her, falling against it on the other side.

Sitting in his bed, Draco stares at the closed door with a wicked grin. Make no mistake, he's annoyed as hell to be awake this time of the morning, but damned if Hermione doesn't get a little more adorable every day. He's not sure how much longer he can go without making some sort of move on the clever little witch.

He rises with a long, slow stretch and stumbles into his en suite. Today, he decides, his tight muggle jeans. She can't possibly be immune to the infamous Malfoy bum. Draco winks at himself in the mirror.

XXXXXX

Hermione spends a great deal of breakfast (and the preparation beforehand) blushing and trying to focus at random inanimate objects all about the room. Draco Malfoy, she has decided is still a super prat. And incorrigible. And snarky. And… and…

He's so Merlin-be-damned frustrating but Christ if he isn't attractive as sin!

She shakes herself out of her own thoughts so many times she fears she may give herself a concussion. Mid-way through her plate of (perfectly made) eggs benedict, she tries for the umpteenth time to start a normal, and hopefully not awkward, conversation.

"I won't usually be able to take you to class but I told Kingsley I'd be a bit late today so I could see you settled."

"I don't have to take that dreadful public muggle contraption but instead you can drive me in your dreadful muggle contraption then? Loads better." He rolls his eyes at her but his smile teases.

"I'm glad you think so," comes her haughty reply, completely ignoring his snark. "You know, anytime you want to learn to drive just say the word. I'm certainly not married to the idea of chauffeuring you around for the next year."

"Only the year? I thought maybe I could keep you on. You could be my official Girl Friday. We can work out the salary and… other benefits." He winks and Hermione goes crimson.

"I- you are such a dick."

He laughs with genuine mirth and she can't help but chuckle in turn.

"I'm sure you have some muggleborn servant fantasy to fulfill but I'm not interested in being your driver or otherwise in your employ." She grins and points to him with her empty fork. "Now, if you want to come over and watch Dr. Who I'm sure we can work out something with you making dinner and me providing the telly." Hermione picks up a final bite of egg on her fork and casually takes the bite, as if this wasn't a big deal. As though this was not uncharacteristically forward to suggest they remain friends once her assignment ends.

A beat of silence makes her heart pound in her ears and she imagines she may have just crossed some unspoken line. Imagine what he must think: Hermione Granger, mudblood extraordinaire, suggesting they are more than forced flat mates.

"…I think we could work out a deal in that regard." A pause and the usual tease returns to his suddenly serious tone. "Of course you have to give me floo access. I'll not be left fending for myself on muggle freeways just to make you dinner."

"I don't use my floo much," is all she can think to say.

"Well we will have to change that I suppose. When I'm back on top, Granger, I'm reclaiming my wizarding heritage one unused floo at a time."

"I don't see how my floo usage relates to your heritage."

"Easy. All the witches and wizards in my life have to show some pride in where they come from. So get used to it, Hermione. And another thing," he stands and collects both of their empty plates, "clean these with a Charm this time would you? The odor comes out much more thoroughly than the muggle way." He drops the plates by the sink and turns to leave. "I'll just grab my coat and meet you at the car in a moment alright?"

She barely whispers an "ok" as he leaves and sits dumbfounded for a moment.

Draco Malfoy just agreed to be a part of her life.

And beyond that, perhaps even more surprising, he implied that she is every bit as much a part of the wizarding world as he is. It is her heritage too.

Hermione smiles and feels her eyes prick with bit of wetness that she wipes away. Such a seemingly petty and irrelevant conversation… he can't possibly know how much it means.

XXXXX

"I'll see you back here at six. I'm leaving the ministry at five thirty so it won't be a problem. Do you have your identification? And some muggle money in case they need you to pick up books or anything? Oh and for lunch. We should have made a check list. I just let the day get away from us yesterday. And if you need me just call me. Or send a text. Do you remember how?"

She blabbering and it's cute as fuck and then Hermione reaches up to brush something off Draco's shoulder and all he can do is smile. He probably looks absolutely gormless, grinning at her with affection and bemusement. She doesn't seem to notice, or misreads his look at least, and instead huffs and stomps her foot.

"Are you listening? I know you're thinking I'm being silly but this is important! It's your first day amongst muggles on your own."

His grin broadens. That wasn't what he'd been thinking at all. "Are you worried about me, Granger," he teases.

"I- Of course not! I just… forget it. You're fine. It's fine. I'll see you at six." She screws up her mouth in frustration and turns to get back into her car.

"Hermione."

"What?"

"Thanks. Really. You take good care of me."

Slowly, one corner of her mouth quirks into a lopsided smile before she says, "You're welcome, Draco." With a quick wave she climbs back into her car and he watches her speed away.

Even from the sidewalk her driving looks scary as hell.

It takes very little time for Draco to get his bearings and saunter into the appropriate room for his first class. He chose to sign up for Charms and Potions. He had pushed hard trying to fit in Apparition but Hermione was adamant that with the restrictions on apparition locations, he was better off learning to drive and using the floo network when applicable, for now anyway. After whining in a most unbecoming fashion, he had conceded that two classes, each lasting three hours daily, was probably enough for a single term.

She really is a bright witch after all. Maybe he should give her opinions a little credit on occasion. She just has so blasted many of them. He could almost start feeling a little empathy for what Weasley must have gone through trying to keep up with her.

Well, let's not go that far.

Draco walks into a mostly empty classroom and walks down the center aisle toward the back row. Unlike the tables at Hogwarts, each seat is attached to a small desk top on one arm, barely enough room to lay out a book. Draco thinks it looks terribly inefficient but makes a mental decision to not to criticize everything muggle. Some things obviously… just not everything.

Seated at the front of the room, is a man, probably a few years younger than Draco. He stares out the window, just to his left, his head supported by this hand. At the back left, he finds an older woman with mousy brown hair, obviously enchanted not to grey, and a rather unappealing pink sweater. She smiles kindly when she looks up and catches his gaze before looking back to the dog-eared paperback in her hand. After he is seated, Draco watches the rest of the class, about 8 more witches and wizards in total, wander in and take seats as far as each other as possible. Three or four seem to linger a moment when they catch sight of his platinum hair and signature Malfoy features. He doesn't recognize them in return, but the infamously evil are always more recognizable than the run of the mill 'good guys'.

"Good afternoon, class." Draco is looking down when the instructor walks in the room but glances up at the familiar voice. "I'm Ms. Clearwater and I'll be your Charms instructor."

Perfect.

Sinking lower into his uncomfortably chair, Draco prays the first lesson they learn will be some variation of the Notice Me Not charm.

"This is the advanced version of Charms. Pre-requisite being childhood or young adult instruction in the subject. We will refresh usage of course for those of you that have been without your Charms license for an extended period." Draco couldn't possibly have imagined the lingering look Penelope gives him as she says that. "But mostly we will focus on the rules and laws of public and private casting. This is a ten week course so we don't waste time. Let's start with what you know."

She leans casually against the large desk at the front of the room and crosses her ankles. "Who can name a limit on Lumos in public space?" Eight hands raise but Draco isn't one of them. He thinks this will be a long two and a half months.

XXXXXX

"So how is King Death Eater today?"

Hermione offers a small laugh though truthfully she is offended on Draco's behalf. It's only been a few weeks since she opened her home to the pureblood prince, but she is finding a protective stance when it comes to her new…friend? After their exchange over breakfast, she feels more confident in the title.

"He's actually doing fairly well. Though it's been pretty easy so far. We stay in a lot and when we go out I sort of take point. Now that he has to start interacting without me as a buffer it will be harder."

Seamus Finnigan chews his lunch thoughtfully, sitting across the desk from Hermione in her modest office. They share their breaks often, being the only Hogwarts alum in their department. Always in her office specifically as Seamus tends to keep his desk, as his lunch partner would tell you, 'something akin to which even swine couldn't abide'.

"So what's his next step then?"

"Usage permits. He started class today. Malfoy needs use of his wand again. His sense of withdrawal will make everything more difficult for him."

Seamus scoffs. "Do you really think he's going to be able to adapt?"

She eyes her salad and picks through it as though on a treasure hunt for pine nuts. "I think…I think he can. He's smart as a whip and financially has no obstacles. He's really incredibly fortunate."

"I'm not sure why you volunteered for this, 'Mione. Does he ever… call you names or anything? I swear I'll hex the cunt."

"Seamus," she admonishes with a scowl. "He's my charge so no hexing. And no actually he hasn't said anything. I mean he's moody and snarky sometimes, but I think that's just innately him."

"Let me take you to dinner tonight. Take a break from the great arse."

Hermione tenses a little but tries for a kind smile. "That's sweet but I shouldn't leave him alone that long." This is not the first dinner invitation she has turned down and she would bet a Malfoy's ransom it will not be the last. Seamus is a friend. The pair has grown close over the years, working together on many cases.

Unfortunately it seems Seamus would like them to be quite a bit closer, in a much less platonic way, and she's just not into him.

"Maybe it would do him some good. Make him start fending for himself. Like you said, he has to be able to get on without you."

She is rescued from his continued pressure by her muggle counterpart rapping lightly on her open door.

"Ms. Granger?"

"Hi, Dave. Come in. Have you had lunch? I way over ordered."

"I've had but thanks. I just wanted your copy of the Johnson case file."

"Oh sure." She wipes her hands absentmindedly on her trousers and opens a drawer to her right. "Let's see… H..I..J…Johnson. Here it is." She smiles and hands it over.

He tips an imaginary hat and offers his thanks before heading for the door. He stops when he has almost crossed the threshold.

"Oh I almost forgot. Your Rehabilitation case. There's been a petition to move him. Seems a magic family wants to house him. Greengrass I think. I'll shoot over an e-mail with the particulars. Nothing official as of now but you may be rid of your flatmate yet." He grins like he just handed her a gift and continues on his way.

Hermione sits back in her chair and stares after him, a little stunned.

"Huh. Well that's one way to get him out of your hair." Seamus shoves a corner of his sandwich in his mouth and hums in contentment. Hermione doesn't eat another bite.

After another twenty minutes, Seamus finally takes his leave and she glances down at her phone to find a series of texts from Draco.

Charms done. Clearwater teaching

Lunch then potions

Lets celebrate tonight. My treat

After much deliberation she types back a simple

Sounds great

She knows she has to tell him about the Greengrass proposal. The sinking feeling in her core is unwelcome and she pushes it aside. Not tonight.

Tonight they celebrate.