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

Chapter Six

The Ministry of Magic's brightly lit atrium was overflowing with ministry workers ready to go home for the day. The recent repaired Fountain of Magical Brethren was standing shiny and new, light reflecting from the witch, wizard, elf, centaur, and goblin placed in the middle. There were dark robes bustling about trying to get out, sometimes random bright colored robes every now and then. Everyone was bumping into each other and Harry couldn't help to think that they should definitely have more than one main exit – it was a fire hazard really. Granted some Head of Departments had their own floo fireplace in their offices and some came in from the muggle stationed entrances such as the telephone booths and toilets, but most preferred the privacy and quietness of flooing in and out. Harry Potter gave everyone that looked at him, in either awe or amusement, a tight smile, trying to get out as quickly as he could. Tired from Auror training – this week and the following week was focused on different locator enchantments and potions to help one track a person down – Harry was reminded that he wasn't the best potioneer. His hand stung slightly from the accidental ingredients he brewed together. Harry had been wondering what Teddy would like for the upcoming summer solstice when he noticed he had brewed essence of daisyroot with mint leaves. As a result, he burned his fingertips slightly when the two opposing essences mixed together in the locator potion.

"Plans for dinner, Harry?"

Ron asked a departing Harry. Harry internally groaned at the sight of his red-headed best friend. He was literally inches from the Ministry floo before he seemingly popped out of nowhere. Harry hesitated for a second, thinking that Ron had left earlier today and what he was doing back, before responding,

"Yeah. I rescheduled with 'Mione for today."

Ron's smile fell slightly from his face and he nodded. He cleared his throat awkwardly before letting his eyes shift to anywhere but Harry's.

"Oh yeah, 'course."

Harry forced a smile on his face for the sake of Ron before patting him on the shoulder. He knew that their breakup would be awkward; Ron always meant well, but he let his emotions control himself while Hermione sought to think logically before responding. That was one of the things that Harry thought they could balance each other out on but when Ron turned to think logically while Hermione with her emotions on the night of their breakup, he was proven wrong.

"Do you think I made a mistake?"

Ron asked so quietly in the middle of a busy after work foot traffic that Harry almost didn't hear him. Harry looked up towards his best friend, green clashing with bright blue. This wasn't the first time Ron seemed regretful from breaking up with Hermione, but Harry hadn't figured out if he was sorry that he hurt her or sorry that their relationship had actually ended. After the War, the three seemed inseparable – well four when Harry was dating Ginny – but then everyone followed their own way. Ginny went off to play international quidditch and while everyone, including Harry, supported her, they thought it was best to put their relationship on hold. Harry was up to his ears with Auror training and being a godfather, he agreed with Ginny when the long distance strained their relationship. That left Hermione and Ron, and while Harry assumed they were doing better than himself and Ginny since they both worked together at the Ministry, he was again proven wrong. However, Harry didn't make the mistake of siding with Ron on their relationship issues. Harry remembered all the times Hermione was there for him and he had to repay the favor by maturing and not siding with Ron simply because he was his best male mate. Harry was pleasantly surprised that Ron had matured from his sense of insecurity when Harry didn't automatically side with him.

"Ron it doesn't matter what I think, what do you think?"

Harry asked him. Ron's eyes widened at his statement and he let his hand move frantically with his rushed sentences.

"Of course, it matters what you think, Harry! You know us best. Do you honestly think I should have broken it off?"

Harry sighed out loud, closing his eyes for brief seconds to allow some reprieve from the same question Ron had asked him yesterday.

"I already told you, Ron, it doesn't matter how I feel about you two together or not. You need to figure out if you actually miss Hermione as your girlfriend or you just miss Hermione as your best mate."

Harry saw Ron's lips fall into a frown and before he continued the same conversation they had previously, Harry gave him one last pat before turning to the floo. He wasn't going to miss another dinner with one best friend because of the other. Throwing the green powder down, he clearly stated,

"Grimmauld Place."

Harry couldn't help to feel a little guilty at the sight of a lost Ron amongst the bustling Ministry crowd. Harry shook that picture out of his head, stepping out of the green flames and into his current resident. While he felt bad for Ron, he couldn't help him; Ron needed to figure out on his own what he felt for their best friend. As much as Harry wanted them happy, he wanted them happy together or not, whatever they thought was best. Harry placed his outer black robe on the coat rack besides the fireplace and before he had time to fully relax now at home, Kreacher walked in. The ancient house-elf had on his preferred, permanently stained pillowcase over him. Harry smiled softly at the thought of Hermione fussing over his ancient house elf.

"Master has a visitor."

Kreacher croaked out, bowing too low for Harry's comfort.

"Who is it?"

Harry asked, glancing at the grandfather clock by the door Kreacher had come in through. It wasn't five-thirty yet so Harry ruled out Hermione coming to his place instead of him going to hers as he planned.

"It's young Master Black, he is in the Preferred Sitting Room."

Kreacher said before popping out of sight as he tended to do when "Young Master Black" was involved. When the remaining Malfoys had offered to help Harry with redecorating the old Black residence, Harry at first hesitated. However, with the persistence of Narcissa Malfoy, he finally caved. After the War, the Malfoys seemingly turned a new leaf – at least to what Harry could see. Lady Malfoy was constantly involved with charity galas, hosting charitable events at Malfoy Manor, and while still seen visiting her husband, she never ushered anything regarding blood purity. The younger Malfoy, though not as involved, had become someone different entirely from Harry's nemesis at school. He was no longer a bully nor sprouted any nonsense regarding Muggleborns, Half-Bloods, and his former Dark Lord. He was pleasantly polite, and while reserved, he didn't go out of his way to make a smart remark at Harry's expense; he was completely different from the young 11-year-old Harry had encountered at Madam Malkin's. Harry often wondered if the Malfoy Matriarch and Malfoy Heir only behaved the way they did because of the former head of their ancient house – one who was currently stripped of said title and sentenced 250 years in Azkaban. Harry rolled his long sleeves above his elbows and loosened his collared shirt before walking over to his preferred sitting room as Kreacher called it. Harry hadn't recall if he had forgotten an appointment he made with Malfoy or if he had come for something else. The dark-haired wizard couldn't help but to smirk at the sight of Kreacher offering an assortment of pastries and different teas to a weary Draco Malfoy. Draco straightened up immediately and said,

"Potter, good to see you."

Draco almost sighed in relief at the sight of the Chosen One despite Harry's amusement at his expense. Harry smirked at Kreacher before saying,

"Kreacher, please leave us, I'm sure Malfoy will choose whatever biscuits and tea he likes best. We'll call you if we need you."

Kreacher glared reproachfully at the Lord of the house before nodding and popping away again. Harry stuck out his hand for the blonde to shake and he did immediately, their strong grips indicating nothing was off.

"Malfoy, how can I help you today?"

Harry asked as he stuck his hands in his pockets. Draco cleared his throat, seemingly out his element. Harry eyed the uncomfortable blond but allowed him his moments of silence. Finally, Draco said,

"I need your help."

Harry's eyebrows rose at the request, opting to sit down on the plush, dark navy chair and enjoy a biscuit or pastry at the sudden desperation of the Malfoy heir. Draco placed his hands over the small teacup he had been offered earlier.

"Okay, on what?"

Harry asked, choosing a blueberry scone and setting down on the small plate in front of him. While he had dinner with Hermione soon, he couldn't help himself to Kreacher's scones. The old house-elf excelled at baking, much to Harry, and Kreacher's, delight. Harry chose out an Earl Gray before Draco sat down again. Harry could feel the nervousness radiating off of Malfoy but chose to not push him. While spending some time together when his mother offered to help with the redecoration of Grimmauld Place, Harry noticed that Malfoy wasn't one to openly express himself – like someone else I know, Harry mused to himself. Taking a bite, Draco finally stopped fidgeting with the teacup in front of him and said,

"I need your help on apologizing to Granger."

Harry stopped mid-chew to look at Malfoy. Curious green eyes looked into anxious gray ones.

"Apologize for what?"

Harry questioned after forcing to himself to swallow – had he done something to her last night?

"For my horrible attitude and prejudices towards her while at Hogwarts, of course."

Draco explained as if it was the most obvious thing. Harry disguised his snort as a cough, taking a sip of his tea before shaking his head. While an apology was well deserved, Harry couldn't imagine why Malfoy would want to apologize now for earlier behavior.

"Why do you need to do that now? An apology is nice, but Hermione won't just take words, especially if you want to apologize for all of that."

Harry said while Draco seemed to deflate. Harry couldn't help the curiosity that followed Malfoy's words and future actions.

"Yes I know, that's why I'm asking you – her best friend – for help on how to do that."

Draco tried not to snap at the Wizarding World's Hero. He had known that it was a long shot to ask for help and more so if Granger was going to help, but he had to at least try. Draco didn't know Granger as well as he wanted to so coming to her closest friends was his only option. Harry took several minutes to think about Draco Malfoy apologizing to Hermione before saying,

"Hermione appreciates manners and kindness. Show her that you've changed with the apology and I'm sure she'll come around to forgiving you for being a childhood bully."

Harry finished his scone and casted a time telling charm, seeing that it was close to five-forty. He saw the gray eyed wizard raise a pale eyebrow at him then he could see the hint of pink that appeared on the usual pale wizard's face. Harry tried his best to not smirk again.

"Apologies, Potter, I didn't know you were busy. I should have asked."

He said before abruptly standing up, straightening his green suit out. Harry chuckled at Malfoy's proper tone and stood up as well.

"Relax Malfoy, while I do have dinner plans, we can discuss your groveling to Hermione another time. But you can get a head start with what I have given you."

It was funny to Harry to see Malfoy in such a state; while he had already seen how the wizard how matured from being a pompous ass to a more reserved, refined young adult, it was still laughable to see Draco Malfoy so proper and polite. Harry was used to the sneers and jeers from the Pureblooded wizard, it was refreshing to say the least when he had changed after the war. Draco scowled slightly at the mentioning of groveling, running his fingers to put his hair behind his head and not in front of his eyes. Harry took the time to also straighten himself up and began walking out of the room.

"Just owl me so we can get together, I really should be going now. I told Hermione I would have dinner with her and she's cross when I'm late."

Harry said while they both walked out of the room and towards the living room with designated floo. Harry missed the way Draco almost froze at the mention of his best friend. He had regained composure as they came face-to-face with the black wooded fireplace. Harry retrieved his cloak, putting it on while Draco eyed him. Upon his confirmation that those two had still remain best friend, Draco was sure he made the best decision coming to Potter for help. Even if he didn't like it and his pride was a little wounded that he couldn't figure her out by himself, he felt better already at Potter's attitude. If he thought he could do it, why wouldn't he be able to?

[-]

Hermione was leaving Ozwald's Owlery Services, closing the large wooden door behind her, when she bumped into a witch she didn't want to see all too soon. The well-dressed witch was wearing a yellow pant suit that fit lovely on her small stature. Hermione thought she couldn't pull off such an extreme color, even if she wanted to. Hermione forced herself not to glance down at her dark blue sweatshirt, muggle jeans and trainers, with her large brown, knitted scarf over her. She had misplaced her peacoat, surely left behind at Theo's, so she was left with little coverage from the elements on her small errand.

"Sorry."

Hermione apologized, her cheeks burning remembering her drunken state and how Parkinson had to take her home.

"Don't worry about it, Granger."

Parkinson said, straightening her black cloak hanging over shoulders. Parkinson wasted no time in small talking much to Hermione's relief. However, she was almost a couple of feet away Hermione watching her walk in her tall heels before she abruptly asked,

"Did you let tell Malfoy where I lived?"

Parkinson slowed her walking, finally stopping before she turned back around, eyeing the brown-haired witch.

"No."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but Parkinson wasn't finished.

"I told the florist where you lived after Draco ordered the arrangement."

Parkinson finished, waiting for Hermione's reaction. Hermione shut her mouth as her assumption was almost correct. Malfoy had sent her flowers and Parkinson had helped. Why though? Again, Hermione couldn't differentiate her childhood bullies from the seemingly nice old classmates. Hogwarts Malfoy and Parkinson were rude, ugly, and prejudiced; post-war Parkinson was serious but polite, not rude at all. And Malfoy… Well he was becoming more of a mystery to her than before. First the disregard of her own beverage as he gulped down the remains, the sudden inquiries of her personal life, and then the apologetic flowers. Before Hermione could say anything, she heard from behind her,

"Everything okay, Hermione?"

Hermione recognized Neville's voice a few seconds before he stepped besides her, his eyes cautiously glancing at the brightly dressed witch in front of them. Pansy narrowed her eyes slightly and Hermione smoothly lied,

"Oh yes, Nev. I was just asking Parkinson about her wardrobe."

Neville seemed caught off guard at the innocent conversation he assumed was not. He nodded slowly and forced a smile towards Parkinson. Parkinson's violet eyes stayed narrowed at him but she didn't sneer as Hermione was accustomed to her doing so. The violet eyed witch actually focused her attention to Hermione. A small smirk appeared on her nude-colored lips before she spoke,

"Yes, I was just giving Granger fashion advice."

"Thank you again, Parkinson. See you around."

Hermione quickly said, forcing a smile while turning away from her as so Neville could follow her direction. She hadn't expected the retort from Parkinson and while it did have a bite to it, she was left boggled again. Was she only polite when no one was else was around? Hermione couldn't help but to wonder. Since after the Battle of Hogwarts, Neville had found his voice and while he still enjoyed his horticulture, he had taken his seat at Wizengamot allowing his grandmother to step down. Hermione had heard he was currently on the crusade for tougher sentences on the current imprisoned Death Eaters in Azkaban. She didn't blame him considering if the Lestranges had gotten the Kiss when they were imprisoned, Voldemort's crusade might have fallen faster and Neville's parents would have gotten justice. Hermione saw from her peripherally vision as Parkinson nodded and turned away, walking away as well. Hermione internally sighed in relief; she didn't want an altercation to arise in the middle of the day in Horizont Alley. Another wave of relief washed over her as Neville smiled down at her, a proper one, before walking besides her.

"Sorry to barge in Hermione, I just saw Parkinson looking like the Slytherin Ice Queen she is and automatically thought trouble. Not that you need any help."

Neville explained, laughing awkwardly at himself at the end. Hermione smiled up at her friend, patting his arm and allowing a soft laugh to leave her lips. He still hadn't changed much.

"Thank you, Neville."

She hesitated slightly but continued talking,

"The Slytherins aren't all bad."

She said softly, biting the inner of her bottom lip at the confession. Hermione couldn't help but to remember Theo's easy smiles, Zabini's flirtatious nature, Parkinson's sudden niceness, and now Malfoy's apology bouquet. They weren't the same people she went to school with. And Theo and Zabini had been there for her when her best friend knew she needed someone despite originally cursing him for it. She didn't know how Neville would react, knowing where he stood adamantly on the punishment of Death Eaters, but she wasn't going to lie to herself or her friends. Neville seemingly froze for a second before relaxing.

"Just the parents, yeah?"

He half-joked, laughing again when Hermione looked up. She couldn't help the grin that appeared and laughed with him.

"Most definitely."

Hermione agreed, knowing full she couldn't stand up for the adult Death Eaters but for the younger ones, marked or not, she could for now.

"How have you been Hermione?"

Neville suddenly asked quietly, and Hermione looked back up at him. His brown eyes softening and his grin disappearing for a more serious look. Hermione couldn't help but to look away, gulping at the sudden attention Neville was giving her. It's not like there weren't friends, Hermione just assumed he didn't care about her relationship with Ron – at least not now when he had other things to focus on.

"I'm doing alright, Neville. No need to worry about me, I'll be fine."

She answered, forcing a smile on her lips to face him again. Before Neville could question her further, Hermione changed the topic.

"How are you and Hannah?"

She asked. While she was initially troubled that Luna and Neville hadn't worked out, she thought the paired fit happily together. However, she was happy to see that they both had moved on and still remained friends. Luna was dating Rolf and Neville had recently started courting Hannah. Neville couldn't help but to smile at the mention of his girlfriend's name.

"We're doing well. I've just met her family and she's meeting my parents this weekend."

At the mention of Neville's parents, Hermione slipped her arm into his, giving it a squeeze before releasing his arm as they continued their walk back towards the apparition point.

"That's wonderful, Nev. I'm so happy for you."

Hermione said truthfully. While she wasn't in any relationship nor was she happy about it, she wasn't going to soil her friend's happiness. After a few seconds of silence, Neville cleared his throat and stopped. He stopped in front a bookstore before looking back at Hermione.

"You know Hermione, we could always use the company if you're up to it. I'm sure we could catch up and Hannah always enjoys talking to you."

Neville's offer warmed Hermione on the inside; she blinked a couple of times before letting her grin break out.

"That would be wonderful, Neville! Just owl me whenever you and Hannah have free time then."

Hermione agreed before the ache of loneliness and despair threaten to get of hold her again. Even if Neville had other things to preoccupy himself with, Hermione forced herself to focus on the invitation he willingly gave. She couldn't give up just yet, she had to try.

[-]

The Burrow wasn't nearly as active as it had been in previous years. With Fred's death, Ginny's international travels, and George's and Ron's departure from their family home, it was only Percy who stayed behind. Charlie had returned to Romania to his dragons and Bill and Fleur had moved to France following the end of the War. However, the entire remaining Weasley clan, including their significant others and spouses, still came together for Friday night dinners with the exception of Charlie (when the dragons wouldn't let him), Bill and Fleur (when Fleur could travel without feeling terribly ill due to her pregnancy), and Ginny (whenever the Holyheads weren't scheduled for a quidditch match that day or following day). Angelina, Harry, and Hermione had been invited but due to their own breakups, Harry and Hermione hadn't come to the last few. But it never surprised Molly Weasley to see her youngest son come to dinners more often than his siblings, besides Percy.

"Hello Ronald, how was work?"

She asked as he came in through the front door. He offered her a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting down on the worn wooden chair.

"It was a'right. Where's dad and Perce?"

He asked, already reaching for a warm roll in the woven basket set already on the table., placed on top of the old wooden table. The room was beginning to smell of whatever glorious dinner Mrs. Weasley was preparing.

"Your father is upstairs getting ready for dinner and Percy's out for dinner."

Molly Weasley answered, watching the floating milk cup pour itself into the steaming pot. Ron nodded, ungraciously stuffing his mouth with the warm bread as he stretched his legs out towards the chair in front of him. George already made plans to have dinner with Angelina and Harry had plans with Hermione so it resulted in Ron coming home for dinner. As if his mother was a natural legilimens, she turned around and asked,

"How's Harry?"

"He's good – super busy with training too and Teddy."

Mrs. Weasley hummed in agreement before turning away, asking,

"And Hermione?"

Mrs. Weasley had one eye on the stirring wooden spoon and one eye on her son's reaction to the mentioning of his ex-girlfriend. Ron stopped chewing his second roll and closed his eyes, hanging his head back on the chair.

"Good, I s'pose."

Ron answered, more quietly than before but this didn't deter Mrs. Weasley.

"That's wonderful to hear. Are they coming this Friday?"

Ron sighed out loud, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling above him.

"Harry might, I haven't asked him though."

Molly waited patiently for Hermione's name to be brought back up, but Ron didn't say anything in regard to her. Pursing her lips, she opened her mouth to speak when George came in.

"Hiya mum. Sorry for barging in, but Angelina was called away to Healer duty."

George kissed his mum right cheek, smelling the delicious aroma, before sitting adjacent to his younger brother.

"No worries, George dear."

Mrs. Weasley answered as she brought the spoon to her lips to taste the stew she was making for tonight. Unpleased with the lack of taste, Mrs. Weasley started rummaging in her spice rack for salt, pepper, and whatever she felt the stew needed to bring out the taste.

"I was on my way out when I saw our favourite curly-headed Gryffindor talking to Neville."

George smirked at Ron before reaching for a roll of his own. Molly turned around, watching the interaction before deciding she needed to make more rolls for dinner as well.

"Hermione was with Neville?"
Ron couldn't help to ask, straightening up at the mention of Hermione. George nodded,

"They looked awfully chummy in the streets of Horizont Alley. She was smiling at something he said."

While George knew Ron had no business being jealous of who Hermione chose to be around, he knew his younger sibling would take the bait. Ron could feel his ears warming at the idea of Hermione and Neville.

"As if, he's dating Hannah."

He said, mostly to calm himself before he jumped to conclusions. George shrugged, biting into his roll again.

"Perhaps, perhaps just a friendly chat. Or maybe Neville is setting her up with another Gryffindor pal."

George half-joked after swallowing. It was too easy to get Ron riled up, in his opinion. And he was still a prankster by heart; besides, he thought his younger brother a fool for allowing to break with Gryffindor's Golden Girl. Ron glared George before getting up, huffing, walking towards the backyard.

"Go calm him down, George Weasley."

His mother ordered at the sound of her youngest leaving.

"In a bit."

George responded, smirk still in place as he watched Ron pace back in forth, wondering what he was going on about. Meanwhile outside, Ron tried to sort through his feelings. He had concluded that he wasn't jealous of Neville if by chance he and Hermione dated, he actually wasn't jealous if Hermione dated another bloke at all. The thought of Hermione dating didn't bother Ron at all, it was the thought of not being there for her that bothered him most. It was the realization that Ron had to live his life without the one-third of the Golden Trio because of their uncordial break-up; while he and Hermione didn't always see eye-to-eye, she was still one of his best mates. She and Harry would be there for him when he needed them and vice versa. Sighing out loud, he stopped pacing. He watched the setting sun, watching the clouds move lazily in the dimming blue sky.

"Figure it out?"
He heard George ask behind him. He needed to salvage what was left of his friendship with the Brightest Witch he had ever met before it was too late. Before time allowed a bridge between them that Ron couldn't cross, and Hermione was unwilling to. Nodding slowly, Ron responded,

"Yeah."