The Leaky Cauldron was packed, as it was every year on May 2nd. In the years immediately after the war, the gatherings had been sombre — a time to grieve those they had lost. But over the years, as time smoothed the sharp edges of loss, the tone had changed. Though they continued to drink in memory of the fallen, it became more of a celebration - a time to share stories about how their loved ones had lived, instead of dwelling on how they died. Seeing everyone together again was an important reminder of what they had been fighting for, and an opportunity to reconnect with comrades who they didn't see any other time of year.

Despite the crowd and background noise, Hermione jumped when Ron's boisterous voice boomed out from the other side of the bar. "There he is! I thought you were dead! Where've you been, mate?"

"Oh, you know, busy with work," Harry responded, taking the open seat next to her. "Got anything new on tap?"

"You know, Harry, if you ever need help catching up on paperwork, all you need to do is ask," she offered. Aurors didn't get public holidays, of course. He must be really falling behind.

"Yea, well, I mean—" he faltered. "I know you're busy with the project and everything. It's fine, probably won't last long anyway… it's just temporary…" His cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him but decided against pressing the issue.

Ron cut in, "I don't know why you bother asking what's on tap, Harry. We all know you're just going to drink your usual."

"Fine," he admitted petulantly. "Give me the Firewhisky."

"So, Hermione, you were going to tell me how the project is going? Or is it 'top secret' like whatever Head Auror Potter's got going on?" Ron asked. Harry rolled his eyes but didn't protest.

"Oh well, yes. It's going rather well, better than I expected, actually."

"And how is it working with The Ferret? As terrible as you anticipated?" Leaning on the bar, other customers forgotten for the time being, Ron grinned.

"I wish you wouldn't call him that," Hermione chided. He shook his head in shocked disbelief as she continued, "It hasn't been completely awful, I suppose. It's strange..." she trailed off, tracing the rim of her glass with her finger.

"I'm sorry," Ron said, interrupting her thoughts, "but didn't you threaten to hex Harry — not that long ago, mind you — because he was making you work with Malfoy? And I'm pretty sure I didn't hallucinate you running out of here a few weeks ago when that git was showing off his Dark Mark. How do you explain that?"

Her cheeks coloured — she didn't really know how to explain her changing feelings towards Draco. He'd been supportive of her working with Malfoy, but their families had long histories, and Ron was fiercely protective of her.

"He's… oh, I don't know… nice? I suppose? I don't know how to describe it." She shuffled uncomfortably under his stare, taking a drink. "He's… he's different."

"Harry, what is this?" Ron asked, gesturing at her. "I don't think I've ever seen you speechless before, Hermione."

She rolled her eyes at that. "I'm not speechless… Merlin, that sounds so overdramatic… I'm simply trying to determine how to condense a complex situation into something that you can understand with your limited socio-emotional range," she teased.

"Oh-ho! Draco Malfoy is complex now, is he?" Ron crowed, ignoring her jibe. Clearly he sensed that there was more going on than she was ready to admit. Hermione's cheeks coloured, and she tried to bury her face in her pint. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Nothing," Hermione said too quickly.

"Well bloody hell, Harry… has our little 'Mione caught feelings for the Prince of Slytherin? Does Ginny know? What did she say?" He was practically giggling - becoming a bar owner had amplified the natural gossip in him.

"Like I said to Ginny, he's… objectively attractive. Right, Harry?" she defended in a neutral, matter-of-fact tone.

Harry choked on his drink. "Why would you ask me that? Leave me out of this!"

Simultaneously, Ron pointed at her accusingly. "That's not a denial!"

"Because it's absurd," she insisted. "Besides, isn't it weird for you to ask about that? Shouldn't you like, I don't know… freak out or something?"

"Why? We dated years ago, Hermione. We were kids! You think something like that would bother me now?" Reaching across the bar, he ruffled her hair, and she batted his hand away, trying to repair the damage. "I just want you to be happy, you know that, right?" he asked seriously.

"Of course, Ron," she said, smiling back.

"The whole reason we fought was for freedom and equality," Harry added. "Malfoy's a decent bloke, and if his stupid 'objectively attractive' face makes you happy…" Harry trailed off and Hermione's face turned a deep shade of scarlet.

A highly flammable Seamus Finnegan saved her from further disclosures. He stumbled over to the bar and threw his arms around Harry and Hermione's shoulders, spilling both their drinks. Offering a toast to the fallen, the conversation quickly changed to a discussion of the latest Quidditch match (what else), removing the focus from Hermione and giving her a chance to think.

A delicate dance had been taking place between her and Draco for some time now. There had been something building between them before the incident in the bar several weeks ago. To say she'd been upset was an understatement, but after his explanation and some time, it didn't bother her as much. Their brief interaction at the gym had proved that. She blushed thinking about that afternoon and what she may or may not have felt as she grappled with him.

Draco Malfoy was a bad idea — a dangerous idea. There was so much history between them. All it would take was one misstep for the whole situation to go up in an inferno, destroying not only their budding friendship but the prospect of a smooth launch of this important program. She thought she had decided that he was off limits; she'd convinced herself that was for the best.

Ron, of all people, should have agreed with her, despite what he'd said at the beginning of the project. He (and Harry) had a tendency to be overprotective of her, and they certainly had no qualms about making their feelings known when they thought she wasn't being treated right. She'd expected that they would have voiced more concerns about a potential relationship with Malfoy; the fact that they hadn't was quite telling.

She gnawed on her lower lip as the conversation continued around her and wondered if it might not be such a bad thing to give the idea more serious thought — there was no way to tell what would happen unless she tried. Just the idea started a little flutter of nerves and excitement in her belly.

Hermione returned home in the early hours of the morning, stumbling a bit as she stepped out of the Floo. She missed Ginny, but with a match coming up this weekend, she hadn't been able to join them this year. As expected, when she checked her mobile, there was a message there for her.

Ginny: hugs darling

how is everyone?

Hermione: Good Gin, we all miss you.

Wish you were here tonight.

It only took a few minutes for Ginny to respond, despite the late hour.

Ginny:me too

thought it would be better to stay here but neither of us can sleep

guess it wouldn't have made much difference

distract me

hows tall pasty and brooding?

Rolling her eyes, she considered how she should respond. After her conversation with Ron and Harry this evening (and the generous amount of alcohol she'd imbibed), she was feeling terribly conflicted.

Hermione:ughhhhhhhhhhh

Fuck, I don't know what to do, Gin…

I feel so stupid…

Ginny: ok ok back up

first question why do you feel stupid?

did that git say something to you?

i will avada his sweet arse if i have to

just say the word

Hermione: No, nothing like that, it's more about what he hasn't said.

He's been really nice, but I just don't know.

It's like he's a different person.

But I can't shake the feeling that letting my guard down might be a mistake.

Besides, I've been fine on my own for years. It would be stupid to complicate things with Draco.

I just don't know what to do.

Ginny: #1 we are all different people than we were before the war

#2 its funny how you think things arent already complicated

Hermione: Okay fine… I don't want to make things even MORE complicated than they already are!

Ginny: thats a shite excuse

so lets ignore that

what about the other thing

not knowing what to do

its a good thing youve got me to tell you then isnt it

real talk or i will come over there and make you talk

match be dammed

its just the cannons anyway and theyre rubbish

this is much more important

cho agrees

The mobile chirped constantly as the messages came in and Hermione could practically hear Ginny's voice in her head as she read them. When it came to "matters of the heart," as Ginny called it, she was no nonsense. If she were here, she'd be standing with her arms crossed, hip jutted, and tapping her foot as she pinned Hermione with a stare.

Ginny: how serious is it really?

Why had she thought talking about this tipsy, with the relentless Ginny Weasley, was a good idea?

Hermione:How am I to know Gin?

Sometimes he seems interested, but he's so hard to read.

Ginny: i didn't ask what that prat thinks

its irrelevant

i asked what YOU want granger

is this just a quick fling

or something more

youve got a few options here granger

whats your long game?

The words on the backlit screen looped through her head: something more… something more... something more... What would "something more" even look like? Her dream of "something more" had died a long time ago — hadn't it?

There were plenty of strong single women that she admired — Minerva McGonagall, for one. As Hermione had gotten older, her dating life became more of a nuisance than anything else, and she'd decided that remaining unattached would be the best option for her. Simple; uncomplicated. Still, something about the idea of a "something more" relationship with Draco — someone with whom she not only had an undeniable physical chemistry, but who could keep up with her on an intellectual level — the thought was more than a little alluring. It was a combination that she hadn't encountered before, and she had to admit that she was curious to see where it might go. Like an unsolved mystery, she couldn't leave it alone. Her mind wandered for a time until the buzzing of her mobile brought her attention back to the present.

Ginny: That took way too long for you to reply

which is answer enough for me

ron was right

you have caught feeling haven't you?

She rolled her eyes. Of course Ron had talked to her; he was worse than a first year. There was no need for her to respond. Ginny knew she wouldn't abandon the conversation midway.

Ginny: alright so here's what youre gonna do…