A/N: I'll apologise in advance for the short length of this chapter. Unexpected family circumstances and hospital visits took ahold which held priority. I didn't want to leave the fic any longer without an update so here you go - short, but here it is.

Hermione ever so carefully draped a blanket over James who was taking a nap on the guest bed. It was the only time the six year old ever stopped resembling a whirlwind of energy because from the moment he was dropped off every Sunday morning, to the moment Ginny picked him up four hours later, he hardly ever ceased talking, playing or running around. She really did love the little boy and loved babysitting him and knew without it, her weekends would surely be dull. She had babysat him for the majority of Sunday mornings since he was two and a half years old and would always want to do that, even when he would eventually become 'too cool' to be babysat anymore by his Aunt Her-mee. Yes, that was correct; ever since James started developing his words more, instead of being referred to as an adorable baby grunt or babble as she had been for his first several months of life, she had become known as Aunt Her-mee, something she'd tried to discourage at first, but had now grown rather fond of.

She double checked that James was fast asleep under the blanket before she stepped out of the room, half closing the door. She gave one last glance of him sleeping under the blanket and smiled. She'd made that blanket six years ago and it had taken her a year to finish. She'd aimed to pick up the skill of knitting again after she'd gone out of the habit of doing it once she left school, and when she set her mind to completing a task or learning a new skill, she always completed it. Even if it did take a year. However, when Harry or Ginny would tease her about it, she would sniff and say that she'd been too consumed with work-related issues to spend her free time knitting a blanket. It was a deep purple colour and not something that suited any of her sheets in her bedroom, but she really did love the colour purple. She'd also aimed to make it fit her queen sized bed, but it had ended up being the size of a double, making it perfect to go on the guest bed and be dubbed 'my blankie' by James who always snuggled with it when he napped.

Exiting the guest bedroom, she walked down the hall to go to the living room and tidy up from the mess that came with babysitting. There were two cups and bowls on the coffee table from their snack of grape juice and macaroni and cheese (James insisted she eat the same as him) and the floor was littered with a variety of toys that James would bring over to play with, and a few that Hermione had bought over the years for the times that he would be over. As Hermione cleaned up, it reminded her of the previous day with Draco. Instead of staying for a short amount of time which is what had been originally planned, he had ended up leaving at seven o'clock, and even then, she wished he would have stayed longer.

"What made you want to become a solicitor?" Hermione asked him curiously. They both held a mug of tea in their hands and she was sitting on the couch with her legs up, facing him; they were close enough that her knees were pressed against his thigh. The past couple of hours had seen the both of them talking about any topic that suited their fancy and when they didn't speak, they sat in comfortable silence, and more recently, she had turned on the telly to a low volume which they would watch when conversation ran dry.

"Several reasons," Draco answered and took a sip of tea. Over the day, Hermione had come to realise what topics he found more difficult to talk about, purely by how long it took him to answer and how much eye contact he would hold. As they spoke now, he hadn't looked her in the eye. She found it an interesting habit of his, to avoid eye contact. Years ago, when he was a teenager, she knew that he would have thought of himself as all-but Wizarding royalty due to his name and status. Where Draco Malfoy once stood tall and didn't break gaze with anyone who spoke to him, seeing it as a sign of weakness, it was now a rare sight to see. Hermione was glad that they were now close enough that he saw his eyes much more.

"Have you always had an interest in law?" She asked, probing him further.

He shrugged. "Not always. Only after the war. I didn't leave my house a lot the year following my trial and in that time I read a lot and it just so happened that a lot of those books were on Wizarding law throughout the years."

"Those are quite interesting books," Hermione agreed and chose not to ask him about why he didn't leave his home as she had an idea just why that may have been. "Although some methods used in trial hundreds of years ago were quite barbaric."

Draco hummed in agreement. "I think that's part of the reason why I wanted to become a solicitor…"

"Why, to commit barbaric acts?" She teased him and was glad to see his lips curl into a smile.

He shook his head, however. "To give people the justice they deserve," he said. "To let innocent people walk free without consequence; to find the truth. To prosecute people in the way that they deserve."

She nodded at his reason and was rather impressed. She knew that he'd had more encounters with being prosecuted than the majority, if not all, the solicitors he worked with, but to see his perseverance in his career was something she respected highly. "Do you feel like you've achieved those things?" She asked and leaned over to her coffee table to place her empty mug down and reached back to take his and do the same when she saw he too was finished.

"I have," he nodded. "I haven't helped in any wrongful convictions. I've helped secure some cells in Azkaban for some of the most vile people to walk the Earth. I try and search for the truth wherever possible — it's the least I can do for some people; some victims or their families."

"The truth is always important."

"It is. In some respects I take pride in doing my work better than how my family was treated after the War," he admitted. "If the truth had been more acknowledged about my actions, my mother wouldn't have suffered as much ridicule and embarrassment simply for having Malfoy as her last name."

He stopped talking abruptly and Hermione noticed his jaw become taut and his eyes dart around the room before settling on staring at the wall. "We don't need to talk about it," she murmured and put her hand on the back of his neck and ran her fingernails through the hair at the base of his neck. He turned his head, in knowledge of what she was about to do, and before she could act upon it first, he had closed the gap between them and pressed their lips together.

Her and Draco had kissed more than she'd expected they would that night. She could remember the feeling of his lips on hers and his slight stubble grazing her chin and cheeks when he would kiss the corner of her mouth. She felt a delightful swoop in her stomach as she glanced at the couch again and remembered the feeling she'd experienced every time they had kissed, and more so when he had pushed his fingers through her hair to cup her head, slightly grabbing her hair in his fingers in a way that didn't even make her think about the slight pain. Hermione was snapped out of her reverie when the fireplace lit up, signalling someone arriving by floo. Sure enough, on time as always, Ginny stepped out and brushed off the small amount of dust from her jeans. "Hey," she greeted with a smile. For the mother of a six year old and a barely one month old baby, Ginny looked stunning. Motherhood suited her, Hermione had decided six years ago when she'd first seen the redhead cradle James in her arms and every time they'd seen each other after that. She seemed to be always happy, even when her sons weren't being the most co-operative humans in the world, or when she experienced moments that Hermione would rather pull her hair out than deal with. "Is he napping?" Ginny asked.

"Just like always," Hermione laughed. "How was lunch?" She asked and sat down on the couch and patted the space next to her so the other woman could join.

"It was beautiful," Ginny smiled. "We went to a manor hotel which serves some of the most delicious food and cakes I think I've ever tasted. I wanted to stay longer but Albus wasn't having it," she rolled her eyes and sat next to Hermione. "Him and Harry went home for a nap; that seems to be all those two do."

Hermione laughed. "Sounds like you had quite the morning," she said. "James was telling me all about how Harry took him up on the broom yesterday."

"Much to my dismay. The man waited until I had decided to go to the shops with Albus!" She laughed which made Hermione laugh too. Ever since James had been born, Harry had been adamant that he'd take his son on the broom as soon as he was able to hold his head up — an age that Ginny soon changed. To Hermione's knowledge, she didn't know when they'd agreed on letting James fly, but by the looks of things, it hadn't been six years old.

"I'm sure he enjoyed it," she said. "He wouldn't stop talking about it for at least half an hour."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "He's his father's son through and through," she said. "I don't know what I'm going to do when he goes to Hogwarts," she laughed lightly. She paused and then realisation struck her. "How did your night with Malfoy go?!" She asked with extreme enthusiasm which reminded her of Ginny's excitement the night of the Yule Ball, asking how things had went with Viktor so many years ago.

Hermione laughed when Ginny exclaimed and leaned forward in her seat. "It went…" Hermione began and trailed off as her lips curled into a smile. "Really good," she laughed softly, in moderate disbelief at what she was saying. The day before yesterday, they had seen each other when Hermione dropped off some things for Harry and she couldn't resist but to spill the beans to Ginny that she was going on, what could quite possibly be, a date with Draco. Ginny hadn't been too surprised — "After seeing you two at the Christmas party and then New Years… I've been waiting for you to tell me." — but had insisted hermione tell her everything about what happened when they next caught up on Sunday. Hermione hadn't done so when Ginny dropped James off that morning, because she hadn't particularly wanted to talk about what her and Draco got up to while Harry would have been listening too, but she had almost forgotten she'd promised to give Ginny all the details.

"Come on. Spill!" Ginny encouraged. "Was he good?"

"Ginny!" Hermione blushed and laughed at her friend's blunt nature. She had always been like that and on more than one occasion Hermione had to stop her talking about certain things before she keeled over in embarrassment and horror over what Ginny told her (hearing about what Harry had done to her on the night of her previous birthday was one of those things). "We didn't do what you're implying we did," Hermione told her.

Ginny sighed dramatically. "Then what did you do?"

"A lot, actually," Hermione said, and quickly started to explain herself when Ginny looked like she'd butt in. "We had morning tea at our usual cafe near work. That turned into lunch and afternoon tea very quickly," she laughed. "We talked; it was the most talking I think he's ever done in his entire life but it was good. I learnt more about him."

"Harry said that he hardly knows anything about him," Ginny said.

"I don't doubt it," Hermione said and didn't want to tell Ginny anything personal that Draco had said — there was a reason he hadn't told anyone else. "He's private. I think that's why it felt more special."

"Did you come back here?" Ginny asked with a sly smile on her face.

"Yes," Hermione blushed. "We didn't do anything but talk… And kiss a little bit."

"I wouldn't have pictured him as a man to go slow on the first date," Ginny admitted which Hermione felt was a little unfair of her to say.

"Well he did," she answered instead. Not once had Hermione slept with any of her previous partners on the first date, and Ginny very well knew the reason for that, so Hermione just took her questions and comments as friendly teasing.

"And how was the kissing?" Ginny probed with a smirk.

Quick flashes of the memories of the kisses came back to Hermione and she laughed and placed her hands on her burning cheeks. "It was… He… I don't…" She rambled before rolling her eyes to get a hold of herself. "Incredible."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Feedback on this P.O.V and chapter in general is appreciated. Hopefully the next update will be sooner and longer. Thanks for reading!