Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter & co. - just write what could have been :) Also reviews are always nice; I'd like to hear your thoughts on this fic :)

Chapter Five

Draco Malfoy wasn't an idiot. An arsehole, a prat, a jerk, but definitely not an idiot. He used to pride himself in being top of his class, falling short from the Brightest Witch of their Age, Theo, and a couple of Ravenclaws his fourth year. However, despite being bright, his marks fell dramatically during his fifth year. He only received 3 O.W.L's, because at the time there was a murderous psychopath currently coming into power. Draco had decided he had more important things to focus on then his Hogwarts education. Draco failed to complete his education at Hogwarts but after the dust settled, he didn't need to go back to finish. He was excused as a "War Time Sanction" alumnus or whatever bullshite the Ministry said; Draco hadn't cared what they called it as long as he didn't go back. He couldn't face the childhood castle he had admired since the death of Dumbledore and he sure as hell wasn't going back by himself. Still, his unfinished education and his reputation as a Dark wizard left Draco with little opportunity in working for the Ministry – his ever-present tattoo adding to the stigma. Not that he wanted to, but Draco was instilled at a young age to have high ambitions. Old habits die hard especially at the constant remarks and glares he received from both parents. Despite all this, Draco didn't count himself as an idiot. An unlucky bastard, but definitely not an idiot. Then why can't I figure out Hermione Granger?, he thought as he glared at his own reflection, trying to sort out his feelings and constant thoughts. He thought he had squashed the tiny crush that emerged at the end of third year, right after her right hook caught his nose. He was furious that she touched him violently so, but amazed that she would go through such lengths for a bloody beast. He never saw such raw emotions before – not from his mother, not from his father, not from his friends. She puzzled him; no one had lost such reserve in his presence before, it was unheard of for someone to let their emotions get the better of them. Not even Pansy, when she was upset at her parents, displayed such emotions in front of him. The only notion of his crush reappearing while still in school was when she appeared polished and pressed as Viktor Krum's Yule Ball date. However, despite how unlawfully pretty Granger appeared, Draco reminded himself of who he was and who she was. She Harry Potter's best friend and muggleborn, nothing could and nothing would ever happen while the Dark Lord rose. And much less with his parents' current blood mania supremacy. Draco had again, more important things to focus on. Apparently, he hadn't squashed the crush as he thought; his minor attraction had resurfaced at the sight of her at Grimmauld's Place when he and his mother were helping Potter remodeled. They only saw each other briefly but it felt like a fever dream to Draco. She was standing in the entry way, frowning at the portrait of his raging lunatic of his Black relative and he couldn't help but to think how her curls would feel. She wasn't wearing anything extraordinary or form fitting, but the way she frowned and tilted her head at the permanent sticking charm only enticed Draco to reach out to her. Like a moth to a flame, Draco felt compelled to be around her. She was everything he wasn't. Without the threat of the Dark Lord breathing and living in his childhood home, Draco no didn't have more 'important' things to focus on. His crush didn't fade, on the contrary, it seem to grow even more when he saw her, rosy cheeked and wide eyed in the middle of his best friend's manor. Dressed in Slytherin green and her hair pulled up into a lose bun, Draco couldn't help to think how even though she was radiant at the Yule Ball, she was just as beautiful in anything else. He couldn't stop himself from reaching out then, amused at her politeness despite knowing they had bad blood. She was a puzzle and he wanted to see if he fit in. Abruptly leaving Nott Manor to figure out what his plan of action was, he returned to his family home. Standing in front of his eight-foot-tall mirror that was adorned with a sort of silver metal for the frame, Draco continuing to glare at himself. There was his made bed and a wooden wardrobe behind him, but besides that, the room had nothing else. The pale blue room was neat and tidy, but totally unlived in. He recently took residence in one of the French Malfoy manors on St. Anne's, but it would have exhausted Draco to travel there in his hangover glory. His mother usually kept herself occupied with social events and charitable actions so he didn't expect her to interrupt him in such a volatile mood. He was wrong.

"Draco darling, what are you doing here?"

His mother's voice rang through his room and his glare disappeared. He saw her behind him, tall, aristocratic, and beautiful as he remembered her when he was a child. Narcissa Malfoy nee Black was dressed in a silk, light gray, almost silver, dress robes, cinched at her petite waist to flow downwards, the hem of the robes barely grazing her light blue heels. The upper robe was styled as a turtleneck but had had no sleeves showing off the Malfoy matriarch's pale arms. Draco stared at her left arm, envious at the unmarked, unblemished skin. Her light blonde hair, not as light as Draco or Lucius' was, was styled into a high ponytail giving her a more youthful appearance. Draco was reminded of how his father fell in love with his mother; while they had an arranged marriage, Lucius has fallen completely for the youngest Black sister. There were small diamonds hanging from her ears and neck, dull in his room but Draco knew they shone in the light. The last jewelry Draco eyed on his mother was her wedding ring.

"I needed a change of clothes, mother."

Draco said, clipped. He didn't want to deal with speaking with mother today of all days. He turned away from her, towards his enchanted wardrobe to look through for a new suit for the day, already starting to become nauseous from last night's alcohol aroma lingering on his current black ones. He had already showered at Theo's thankfully, so he had only come for some moments before meeting with Pansy. He needed to thank her for last night; despite being an areshole to his closest and only girl friend, he didn't want to purposely be rude to Pansy when she didn't deserve it. He scowled when he noticed all his dark grays and black suits weren't present, only seeing shades or blues, greens, and browns. While he took most of his preferred suits to St. Anne's, he thought he left one or two behind.

"Mother where are all my suits?"

Draco turned to look at his mother as she chose to not move from the front of his bedroom door. She replied,

"Probably getting cleaned or tailored, Draco. You use those dreary colors often why don't you try a blue one for a change?"

Draco's scowl deepened but didn't argue with his mother, deciding it wasn't worth his time. He did choose a dark green three-piece suit instead of a blue one she wanted. Narcissa frowned for a second before wiping it off from her face.

"Well now that you're here, I wanted to let you know that I've been speaking with Hendrich Greengrass – "

"For what?"

Draco cut his mother off, letting the suit he chose fall onto his bed uncaringly. At the mention of Greengrass, Draco turn to face his mother head on, his eyes narrowing as she said her next words.

"To hash out the engagement disagreement, dear. What else would we converse about?"

Draco couldn't help his body tense up at the word 'engagement' as he clenched his teeth together and his body stilled. His mother was still on that frivolous pointless marriage contract?

"Mother leave it be. Mister Greengrass has made it perfectly clear he doesn't want the Greengrass name sullied with ours."

Draco sneered the last word as he proceeded to undress himself; he would have excused himself but he didn't have time. His mother's comment only soured his mood; he thought he would have a moment of peace and quiet for himself before he saw Pansy. He owled Pansy and let her know he was coming at 2PM and it was already a quarter till.

"Draco don't be absurd!"

Narcissa exclaimed before making her way towards Draco window balcony, the silk flowing behind her; Draco's room had view of the white gazebo and giant ash tree beside it. Narcissa remembered fondly of the times she would spend back there with Lucius and a young Draco.

"Hendrich didn't mean that, he apologized today and we're trying to get the contract back on track."

Narcissa said, turning slightly to her left, looking out of the window to give Draco a hint of privacy. Draco had already shrug off his suit jacket and had unbuttoned his black collared shirt, slipping it off, when he froze yet again. Fucking hell, he thought before roughly taking off shirt, balling it up, and throwing it on his bed. It was definitely not his day today. First his raging headache, then his teasing friends which didn't help his budding feelings, and now his pestering mother. Who was next, Lucius demanding if I found a job yet?, he darkly thought to himself. He began ungracefully ridding himself of his leather, black oxfords and stripping himself of his trousers, when he finally snapped.

"Mother, I thought I made it clear I don't give – "

Narcissa whipped around to glare at her son, her skirt flowing behind her. Draco stopped talking immediately and frowned at her, standing before her in his green silk boxer briefs, before continuing his revised sentence,

"I don't have any positive opinions about the Greengrasses and I certainly do not wish to repair the marriage contract to Astoria."

Narcissa glared at her only son for a few more seconds before softening. She hesitated for a second before marching out of his room. She quickly said before exiting,

"Lunch it is then."

"Mother!"

Draco protested but Narcissa slammed the door shut, leaving no room for an argument. Draco groaned loudly, damning his mother for still trying to repair something that was beyond broken. Draco didn't want to get married to Astoria simply because she was a Pureblood. She was lovely to look at, but that was it. He didn't have anything in common with the younger Greengrass sister besides their Sacred Twenty-Eight status and their Hogwarts house. It was a blessing from Morgana and Circe when the Greengrass patriarch called the marriage contract null and void because of Draco's mark; he was free, until his mother had decided she had other plans. And no doubt, father, Draco thought. Well his mother was just going to have be upset for him ditching her impromptu lunch, he was still going to see Pansy. Dressing quickly and with a quiet "Renovare", to soothe his head, Draco let his hair linger on his face before apparating away. Draco landed in dark alley, scanning the area to make sure no one saw him appearing out thin air, and straightened himself out when no one did. He began making his way out of the brick walled corridor and turned to his right to a French restaurant he and his friends frequently visited. The door chimed loudly from the bell that sat atop as he entered. The establishment had a few patrons already seated as Draco saw Pansy already sitting down at the far end, teacup in hand. She was dressed in a dark yellow pantsuit today, her collared shirt black with dark blue heels. Her black cloak was hanging from the back of her chair as she eyed Draco walking towards her.

"Pans."
He said, leaning down to kiss both of her cheeks before sitting down. She didn't say anything as she accepted the hello, instead opting to continue to sip the rest of her tea.

"I'm sorry for last night."

Draco immediately apologized; eyes downcast to stare the laminated menu before him. He didn't need to look at it but he decided to appear apologetic was always the best plan to soothe Pansy. Pansy wasn't eating anything but he was planning to order her a cranberry salad and himself a quiche, not having eaten anything of substance at Theo's. After a few seconds, he glanced back up at her. Her violet eyes stared back at him and for a second, Draco thought he was in serious trouble. He surely didn't behave like a total ass last night, unless he didn't remember. Before Draco could have a panic attack, Pansy shrugged,

"What are friends for."
She said coolly. Draco flashed her a smile of gratitude before the muggle waitress appeared,

"Anything for your sir?"

She asked, smiling brightly. She had short, curly hair and bright red lipstick. She appeared to their age or just a tad younger.

"I'll have a coffee, spinach quiche, and she'll have a cranberry salad."

He said and she nodded, scribbling notes in the yellow notepad before leaving.

"You didn't have to order for me. What if I wanted something different?"

Pansy said, letting her hands fold in her lap.

"Do you?"

Draco asked leaning against the creaky metal chair. He quirked an eyebrow up and Pansy couldn't help but to laugh at him. Despite having impeccable genes and being too handsome for his own good, Draco's self-image was extremely damaged from the war. Pansy was sure he wouldn't notice the way he was leaning back, nonchalant and too handsome for his own good. And dressed in a brighter color than black – albeit still dark enough for his taste, but it suited him. If he wanted to, he could definitely make a name for himself in modeling, but sadly for those with great taste, he did not, Pansy mused to herself.

"Why didn't you wear blue instead of green?"

She asked him. Pansy had only seen Draco wear anything other than shades of black or gray a handful of times after the War; of course his sudden change of color style piqued her interest.

"You sound like my mother."

He rolled his eyes at her, barely smiling at the returning waitress as she put down his steaming coffee. She fumbled a little before turning pink and leaving once again. Pansy couldn't help the smirk that replaced her curiosity at the ever-oblivious Draco. He poured a helping amount of milk before stirring his coffee and said,

"She's trying to 'get the marriage contract back on track', her exact words."

Pansy nearly gaped openly at the mention of Draco's void marriage contract to Astoria Greengrass. While she didn't disapprove of the match, she didn't necessarily love it either; Pansy knew that Draco would only have gotten married to Astoria because his parents wished it not because he actually had feelings for the younger Greengrass.

"I thought Greengrass wanted nothing to do with a Marked Malfoy?"

She almost whispered the word marked but she remembered she was in a muggle place, not wizarding. And she also knew better; she knew if she made any slight difference, Draco would freeze up. He shrugged, still stirring and looked up at her. Gray met violet.

"Apparently he's changed his mind. But I already told my mother to shove that contract back up his arse."

Pansy snorted unladylike, her mother would have a fit if she saw, and reached out for her cup. Taking a helping sip, she said,

"I'm sure you said those exact words to Lady Malfoy."

Draco grinned at her, finally taking a sip. The two stayed in a comforting silence, accustomed to one another since childhood, before the waitress came back with their food. The comfort food Draco needed and the usual healthy bit for Pansy. After a few bites, Pansy said,

"I have an interview with George and Ronald Weasley at 3:30PM."

At the mention of Weasley, Draco looked up from his quiche. Once again, he couldn't help himself. He was reaching out once more.

"Did you know?"

Pansy already knew what he was referring to but she chose not to indulge him. She needed Draco to become more open if he was going to start on the path to a certain witch – any witch at that. Pansy chewed her spinach and cranberries slowly, savoring the tarte vinaigrette. When she began poking at a cranberry, Draco started frowning. She finally asked, making eye contact again,

"Know what?"

Draco internally groaned. He stopped eating, placing his fork down on the plain white plate, and wiped his mouth with the paper napkin he had folded in his lap. Pansy was going to make him work for it.

"Did you know last night that Weasley and Granger were no longer an item?"

He asked as calmly as he could. Pansy smirked at her friend, popping a cranberry into her mouth.

"If I didn't, it was certainly lucky of me to step in when you asked Granger why her ex-boyfriend couldn't pick her up."

Draco sighed, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He really did ask her that, he could have sworn it was all in his mind.

"She froze at the sound of his name, Draco. Of course, I knew."

Pansy responded, setting her fork down as well, deciding she was done eating with only just bit of cranberries left over.

"You took her home then?"

Draco opened his eyes and let his hand fall back down, asking. The Parkinson witch eyed him carefully before letting her smirk fall from her lips.

"I'm not telling you where she lives Draco."

She said deadpan. Draco couldn't help but to chuckle at his friend's assumption, even if she was right. His gray shined just slightly at the thought of personally delivering an apology gift to Hermione Granger. Before he could let his thoughts roam to her private life, he said,

"I just need it for a delivery, Pans. Surely you can appreciate a thoughtful gesture."

[-]

Hermione grinned triumphantly at the small pile of Ronald Weasley's belongings that sat on the floor at the edge of her bed. There was a mixture of jumpers, tees, and sleeping bottoms that she found. While it took longer than expected, actually sorting through some items of clothing she was going to donate as well, she was finally done. There was something refreshing as spring cleaning in the middle of winter. She sighed in content and walked out of her room, back to sit on the couch. She left Crookshanks in her room as he eyed the pile with seemingly disdain. Hermione couldn't help but nibble on the bottom of her lips, sitting down in front of the college application. While she originally thought of applying to Oxford as she had when she was younger, she dismissed that thought as quickly as it came to her. Hermione had the desperate feeling of disappearing from the public eye and Oxford wasn't far enough. However, she had two things from doing so at the moment. The first was her job; she enjoyed working in her department and she felt as if she was making progress so it would only deter her if she up and left. The second was her friends. Harry specifically – he was her brother and the only real family she had left; her parents were obliviated, living happily as a childless couple in Australia. Trying to restore memories of her would be detrimental to them, and while Hermione always knew this was possibility, she still felt the loneliness ache throughout her at the sight of her smiling parents. They're alive and happy, that's all that matters, Hermione thought to herself as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Sniffling just once, she began filling out the application. It wouldn't hurt to apply even if you don't go, Hermione reminded herself, leaning back and started with her basic information. The rest of the early afternoon, Hermione worked on her application as she had nothing else planned for the day. Hermione went from her sitting position and nibbling on a ballpoint pen to laying down when a couple of moments later, there was a knock on her door. She cast a time-telling spell to check the time, the bright numbers showing close to 5PM, and frowned at the fading numbers. Harry was still at work, who could it possibly be? Hermione turned her application over on her couch and walked towards her door, her socks covering her feet from the cold the wooden floor emitted. Using the peephole again, she was surprised to see a delivery boy with a vase of flowers in hand. Was this a prank? Had someone gotten the wrong address?, Hermione thought to herself, wand steady in her right hand. She opened the door slowly after fumbling with the locks.

"Yes?
She asked him, never opening the door fully.

"Delivery for erm – Miss Hermione Granger?"

The acne ridden teenager said, reading from a slip a paper in his hand. Hermione saw a local muggle flower shop logo on the front of his shirt and she relaxed at the sight. She doubted a Voldemort sympathizer would go through the lengths of actually using a muggle for their malicious deeds, especially one that didn't seem Imperious at the slightest.

"Um, yes, I am her."

"These are for you. Have a good day."

He said, holding out the giant, dark green vase filled with yellow roses, lilies of the valley, and ivory flowers. Dumbstruck, Hermione took the vase, the delivery teen already leaving. Curiously, she closed her door, locking it, and headed to her small kitchen table right beside the island. She put the flowers down and anticipation ran through her at the sight of a pink folder card. Hermione knew it wasn't Ron who sent her flowers, especially this bouquet, but who else if not him? Her love life was nonexistent since the break-up, unless a bold secret admirer was coming into play. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Hermione opened the card to reveal a neat, cursive script,

Forgive my childish antics last night.

Hope all is well.

-D.M

Hermione stared at the card, re-reading it at least 10 more times before looking back at the flowers in bewilderment. Memories of gray eyes following her and pale fingers grasping a cup came rushing to her. Biting her lower lip and stepping away from the colorful arrangement, Hermione couldn't help the hysterical giggles leaving her lips at the thought of Draco Malfoy interacting with a muggle for flowers.

"What in Merlin's beard."
She said out loud before falling into a fit of hysterical laughter all over again.