On the train the next day, Hermione tried not to slide into sadness as she watched the countryside rumble past. She'd never bothered having the fireplaces at home connected to the Floo network, and besides, it was nice to have a bit of time and space to relax as the train headed off into London. London itself was rather busy, and she found the trip to Tite Street tiring. However, by twelve o'clock she was in the offices of a respected Chelsea firm that had started as apothecaries connected with the Physic Garden, and now manufactured various remedies based on herbs and natural ingredients.

"I'm sorry, madam," the receptionist said. "The manager does not see people without an appointment, and she is booked up solidly for the next three weeks. Perhaps next time you could call before you come here?"

"I don't have a phone at our place", Hermione replied. "Please, I only need to see her for a few minutes."

The receptionist just glared at her, and Hermione turned in frustration that her cunning alternative plan should fall apart so quickly. As she turned, though, her arm caught the stomach of the person who had come up behind her, and she winced at their oof.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir." She rubbed her own elbow as she looked at her hapless victim.

"Anyone else I would hex in a moment, but for you, Granger, I can make an exception."

Hermione peered at the face. It was a great deal less refined than it had been when she was a Hogwarts, but not too hard to recognise after all these years. "Draco? Good grief, what are you doing here, Ferret?"

"None of your names, Granger. I think I might be able to help you here. Margaret, am I still booked in to see the boss in five minutes?"

The receptionist checked the diary, and nodded. "You have a fifteen minute appointment to discuss the latest progress on the Acai Berry campaign."

"Miss Granger will be taking my time instead. If she's taken the trouble to come here, then whatever she has is worth listening to. "

Hermione gasped, and the receptionist glared at her, but Draco was unmoveable. Realising her opportunity, she nodded at him. "That's very sweet of you, Fer… Mr Malfoy. I hadn't realised you worked on this side now."

"Call me 'Draco'."

"Then you'd best call me 'Hermione'. Or Mrs Weasley. Except that that makes me feel old." She smiled, relieved, and brought out a small jar of the cream. "Hopefully this will persuade her. You seem very sure of yourself though."

At that, the receptionist harrumphed behind her, and Draco took her arm and led her up the corridor. "Ignore Margaret there. She's still getting over a broken heart. But when you talk to Miss Elliott, make sure you say how helpful Margaret is. You don't want to get on her bad side too early. And here's the office."

He knocked on the door, and a voice within called "Come in, Draco."

Opening the door, he stuck his head around. "Miss Elliott? I'm sending in a friend who has an amazing proposal." And before there could be any protest from either side, he had propelled into the office and closed the door behind her.

An hour later, Hermione walked out of the office and back down to reception with a glazed look in her eyes. The manager had agreed to manufacture her cream in two forms – one slightly perfumed that would be marked up incredibly and sold as a wrinkle reducing formula, and one with a slight antiseptic smell that would be the scar removal cream, sold cheaply to ensure all the people who needed it could afford it . In reality, the only difference was the scent and the packaging – Hermione had suspected that this was the way things worked, and while it was disappointing, she had to accept it. Besides, the advance payments for the formula and rights were more than enough for her to pay off all her debts and quite a sum left over, and if sales were as expected, she would even be able to buy Cliff Cottage.

She had her hand on the front door when a touch at her elbow stopped her.

"Did it work?"

"I beg your … oh, Draco! Yes, yes it did." The triumph shone out of her eyes, and he smiled in reply.

"Then let me take you to lunch, to celebrate your victory."

"Oh, I couldn't. I need to get back…"

"Back?"

"I live down near Exeter now, and the children are with me. I'm catching a train in twenty minutes, in fact, and will barely be able to make it."

"You don't apparate?"

"I can't." Hermione blushed. "Since …I've been ill, and one of the side effects … I splinched myself the last time, and I've been told it's safer not to."

"Then let me take you to lunch, and I'll apparate you back to a nice, safe spot where you can walk home and they'll never know."

Hermione hesitated, then nodded. "You did get me the appointment."

"Then come and tell me all about it over some nice sole and salad." He guided her outside, and they walked the ten minutes to the restaurant while catching up with life up to this point. The conversation continued over lunch, and Hermione, who was expecting to be condescended to and belittled, was pleasantly surprised at the manners and consideration of her companion.

"So you didn't marry Pansy?"

"No, she wouldn't have anything to do with me after the Battle. I'm afraid my family, and I, acted like asses. I blame my father, but I could have stood up for myself. That's one of the reasons I work for Muggles now." Draco refilled Hermione's glass, and sipped his own. "It started as a punishment, to make Purebloods liaise with Muggles and try to work together, but I quickly realised that there are areas where Wizarding knowledge can make quite an impact in the Muggle world. So now I work in the marketing section of a Muggle potions company. And what was in this cream you're selling to Miss Elliott today?"

"Trade secret But it does reduce the appearance of scars."

"That's a fairly limited market?"

"It also reduces wrinkles."

"Why, Gran… Hermione! You shock me! Pandering to the tastes of modern fashion?"

"I'm doing it for the scar reduction, and the rest is going to support me." Hermione was annoyed that she had to justify herself to Draco, but he put his hand over hers in a very understanding manner, and just nodded.

"We all do things we don't like to keep going. And speaking of which, I think we have time for dessert before I take you home."

An hour later, a slightly tipsy Hermione walked out of the side of the Hainmouth station waiting room, and onto the path that led to Cliff Cottage. Draco had apparated her there so that she could seem to be coming from the train that had pulled out five minutes before, and he had kissed her cheek as he sent her on her way. Hermione had been surprised, but not horrified, and in truth it was nice to have a man paying attention to her like that.

"He's still a spoilt brat."

"Severus!"

"I saw him kiss you." Severus was walking beside her, but from the lack of reaction of any of the other villagers, it was obvious he was invisible. "He wants more than just to help you with our product."

"Maybe he does." Hermione refused to be drawn out of the best mood she had been in all week. "Maybe he just wants to make up for past misdeeds. We talked about it a great deal."

"And drank a great deal, and you even traded desserts."

"You were spying on me! Severus – you should be ashamed of yourself. If that's how you're going to be…" And she suddenly sped up, leaving Severus looking after her as she headed up the road.

Two weeks later, Hermione was watering the flowers in her front garden when a "Hello there" from the front gate startled her.

"Draco! What are you doing here?"

"The boss wanted to send you this, so I offered to bring it."

"You do know that the Muggles have a thing called the post, don't you?" Hermione took the envelopes, and opened the gate to let Draco come in. "What's in here?"

"Your statement and a copy of your agreement, as well as the marketing campaigns for the next year. The funds should be in your bank account as we speak. I would have called ahead, except that …"

"Except that we don't have a phone." Hermione pointed out to the road. "The local titled git owns the land down the road, so he won't allow them to dig up his land to put in a telephone line. He and his family have been holding out for fifty years. And I haven't ever got around to getting a mobile, although now I think I might. Draco, what are you really doing here?"

"I came to see if I could get some afternoon tea." Draco smiled his most beguiling smile, and when Hermione showed him inside, it barely stopped.

She asked Dimity to put out some tea in the living room downstairs, then took Draco on a tour. It was only as they approached the workroom that she remembered that Draco would recognise the portrait was above the fireplace – and she had left the secret passage open. But as they walked in, she saw that the passage was closed and the portrait missing.

"Nice workroom, Hermione. Is this where you did your research?" Draco ran a hand over her workbench, where the various flasks and pots stood proudly.

"Yes, and the plants all came from the garden downstairs." Hermione thought she heard a low chuckle behind her, but when she looked, there was no sign of Severus. However, during the rest of the house tour, she had the feeling he wasn't far away.

"And how in the name of Merlin's saggy and pendulous did you afford a house elf?"

"Oh, she's not mine. She belongs to the house."

Hermione crossed her fingers, but to no avail. A small outraged voice beside her yelled out "DIMITY DOES NOT BELONG TO ANYBODY! And afternoon tea is served."

It took the pair of them a few minutes to lose the ringing from their ears, but Draco and Hermione kept talking over tea so long that Hermione ended up inviting him to dinner. Rose and Hugo weren't impressed by him, and disappeared from the dinner table as soon as they could, but Hermione couldn't help but enjoy the attention, and when Draco suggested a walk down the road back towards the village, she hesitated only a moment before quickly telling the children she'd kiss them goodnight later.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Draco?"

"How is it you haven't married again? If I might ask, that is." Draco glanced at her, hoping he hadn't hit a raw nerve, but she just looked pensive.

"I haven't met many men since Ron died. And I am rather picky." She stopped walking, and he came around in front of her.

"You are a very attractive woman, not to mention intelligent and amusing." Draco gently brushed a lock of hair from Hermione's face, and she closed her eyes, the better to feel the sensation. Then he kissed her, and for a brief, glorious while things were wonderful.

An hour later, Hermione let herself in the front door of the cottage. Her hair was rather mussed, and her shirt showed signs of some manhandling, but the smile on her face was beatific.

"He's after something, you know."

Hermione looked at the dark figure that appeared in front of her. "He's after me, if you must know. And is that so bad?"

"You could do a lot better."

"Why, Severus – you're jealous!"

At this, the dark figure disappeared, and Hermione headed for the kitchen where Dimity was washing up.

"He is no good for you, Miz."

"You sound just like Severus, Dimity. And I … like Severus. Very much. But he's a ghost, and I'm a flesh and blood woman with feelings, and needs and … and Draco is making me feel very happy right now."

Dimity just shrugged and went back to the washing up, and Hermione floated up to her bedroom and to sleep.

And over her, late at night, a dark figure stood and gestured.

"Flesh and blood he is, and can give you what I cannot. So you should forget me, forget that the potions room existed, or that you saw me here. You made up the cream by yourself, and not with my help. And you'll think this was all a dream, our talks, our working together…"

And if a solid shadow could appear sad, then this was a sad shadow that faded out with the coming of the dawn.