Written for The Houses Competition, Hufflepuff.

Year: Prefect 1, Stand in.

Category: Themed

Prompt: [First Line] Seeking shelter from the storm was the first of many mistakes that day.

Word count: 2,038

Betas: Aya

Seeking shelter from the storm was the first of many mistakes that day. Who knew that ducking into a stores doorway would have started such a dramatic day for the recently graduated Hermione Granger.

Being in such a rush to not get her newly bought books wet, she hadn't looked at what reading material she even chose as she looked out onto the quickly emptying street. It seemed that the storm had come from nowhere – in the back of her mind she hoped it had nothing to do with Dark Magic. Hermione had had enough of that sort of thing whilst at school. Hopefully, it was just a normal storm.

She heard somebody clear their throat behind her. Turning to address the person, she was met with a shock of platinum blond hair. Hermione quickly realised she was blocking Draco's exit out of the store.

"You know you can't apparate until you're at least a meter away from the door of a store, right?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione nodded, trying to think of a reason for stalling. She didn't think saying she had just been in Australia visiting her parents, who doesn't even know they spent three days with the daughter they didn't know about –and had to hide magic from them and everybody else – so she forgot to simply apparate home when the storm started would have been a suitable response to her ex-classmate.

"I was thinking about doing some more shopping." She didn't realise it at the time, but this lie was her second mistake of the day.

Draco nodded understandingly and stepped closer to look out at the weather. "Doesn't look like it's going to die down soon."

She nodded in agreement, also taking a glance out at the weather again, whilst trying to work out on a scale of one to ten how awkward this conversation was. Hermione could swear that they had gotten on comfortable speaking terms whilst studying at Hogwarts for their final year; their redo of seventh year. He had redeemed himself in her eyes, showed her who he really was… or at least, who he wasn't. Draco wasn't the bully he once was, he didn't enjoy tormenting others, he was just a lost little boy following in his parents' footsteps. Hermione was once determined to be a dentist like her parents, then she turned eleven.

In a lot of ways, talking to the newly redeemed Draco should have felt normal, just like they did at Hogwarts. Then again, out in the real world, where you couldn't simply discuss the school you attend of the homework, was a completely different atmosphere. Hermione didn't imagine that she'd see the bluey-grey-eyed male on a day to day basis. In fact, she expected it to be months before this type of interaction occurred and there would be a lot more they could discuss. However, it had only been ten days, and they were talking about the weather of all things.

"I see you brought the new Lockhart book?" Draco asked, looking down at her arms.

She followed his eyeline once more, having been really excited about the story of how Gilderoy Lockhart had redeemed himself in the magical community. Sure, he couldn't remember that he was a slim ball, but he was really living up to who he pretended to be. Though, now she just felt ridiculous. She was carrying the books just like her first year at Hogwarts instead of placing them into her enchanted bag, which was currently draped over her shoulder. Had she done that, she wouldn't have even thought about hiding from the storm. Hermione didn't mind getting wet once in a while, in fact, it did feel nice on occasions.

"Yes. I'm considering going into Magical Law at the Ministry."

"Oh?" Draco sounded surprised. "You haven't decided your career path?"

That was her third mistake. "No… Well… I couldn't decide. There are so many options. So many different paths. I don't want to simply choose one, I want to make a difference, I'm just not sure where I want to start."

Draco nodded. "You are in a position to make a bigger difference than others. The spotlight is still shining on you."

Hermione tried to work out what emotion was coming from him, but couldn't. There was one thing she knew, it wasn't a negative emotion. There was no hate, envy, disgust, or jealousy in his tone. "You're right. That's why I don't want to simply throw away the opportunities I have. Ron and Harry don't understand, they simply keep reminding me how incredible I am." She sighed. "It's not helpful."

"If you want, I could help you go through all of the options? I promise I'll be impartial and won't call you 'incredible'."

Hermione chuckled. Her fourth mistake that day was agreeing to go back to his apartment.

Hermione had forced herself to keep her eyes open as Draco apparated them to his apartment – it helped her to keep balanced as they landed. She looked around his living room with mild surprise. Hermione almost hadn't believed him when he said he didn't live at Malfoy Manor anymore, but still expected wherever he lived to look the same as it did.

In fact, as she tried to casually examine his home, she decided it didn't really look like a home at all. Everything appeared pre-brought, with little or no personal touch added to it. "How long have you lived here?"

"A few weeks," he answered as he walked out of the room, returning a few seconds later with ink and parchment. "I bought it straight after we graduated. I just couldn't bring myself to stay at the Manor without my parents, especially after everything that happened there."

Hermione nodded understandingly. She couldn't find it in her to visit her childhood home either. It just feels so empty without her parents there. Then again, she didn't even want to think about Draco's childhood home, so there were two reasons she'd understand about him not wanting to live there.

Draco took a seat in one of the cream chairs, resting the parchment and ink on the table. Hermione decided to occupy the adjacent matching chair with the table between them. She watched as he delicately dipped the edge of the quill into the black ink before looking up at her. "Should we start with your top five options?"

After three hours of discussing all the options she could take, Hermione looked over the now overfilled parchment as Draco went to make some hot chocolate. That's right, Draco Malfoy, the boy who had followed his parents into becoming a Death Eater, was making hot chocolate for the both of them. She didn't say anything, but she secretly hoped they came with marshmallows.

They didn't. It was potentially a little too much to even imagine Draco putting marshmallows in their hot chocolate. But, it was a fun thought and wishful thinking at least.

Hermione accepted the steaming hot mug with a deep breath. She opened her eyes, having not realised she closed them, and looked at him.

"What?" he asked curiously.

"I just didn't imagine you as a hot chocolate person," she admitted.

Draco's lips turned upwards. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

That was certainly true. "Then… tell me something about you I don't know."

The male sitting across from her paused in thought before setting his eyes on hers. "When I was younger, six years old to be precise, I couldn't swim. My father insisted on me having playdates with Pansy even though I hated her. She hated me too." His eyes drifted from hers and stared at the wall as he retold the event from his past. "It was cold out, November, I think. Pansy was bored, we both were, and she thought it would be funny to push me into a lake. She knew I couldn't swim. I was terrified. And unlike what people say, there was no enlightenment period where I learnt how to swim, no accidental magic to save me that day. When I didn't come up, she actually dived in and pulled me out. I always hated how she was so good at swimming."

Draco paused to look at her. Hermione wondered if he was going to continue or not. She always found it so difficult to know what he was thinking. Why did he have to be so complicated?

"A few months later on a hot day, she pushed me in again. This time, however, she jumped in straight away and forced me to learn how to swim. It was the most scared I have ever been. I thought she was trying to kill me. But, I learnt. Pansy never gave up, never let me stop until I perfected it." He let out a chuckle. "Perfection back then is a lot different to now, I'm not the best swimmer, but I can survive if needed." Draco paused again. "That's when she redeemed herself in my eyes. When I began to think of her as a friend than an annoying girl."

Hermione smiled at his story, she wasn't sure why he told her all of that when she asked for a fact about him, but wasn't going to complain. Perhaps he just wanted to share that. "And you became friends?"

"Nope. She still hated me. Apparently, Pansy wanted to make sure I wasn't a pathetic idiot who couldn't swim in case she was forced to marry me. Even when we did become friends years later, she never changed her answer."

A chuckle left Hermione's lips. Even though the war was over and everybody was supposedly living in perfect harmony. Most people remained within their former friendship circles. The only reason Hermione had ever even spoken to Draco was because they were Head Girl and Boy together. But, she had never even considered talking to Pansy, or anybody else in Slytherin. The worst thing about it was, it was unintentional.

"Are you thinking about the rest of your shopping?" Draco inquired lifting his drink to his lips.

Hermione looked up in confusion, being pulled from her thoughts and not catching up quick enough to work out where his mind jumped too. "What shopping?"

Draco lowered his mug from his lips. "At Diagon Alley," he prompted.

"I only went there for the books," she replied before remembering her earlier lie. As she realised her mistake, she saw that Draco had also come to the realisation that he had been lied to. It wasn't as if their dynamic wasn't tense already.

"I see."

"That… that wasn't what I meant. I-" Hermione faltered. Even the thought of lying to cover up her previous lie was beyond her, but the truth seemed too silly to say.

Here sat the former death eater and brightest witch of their age. Draco, full reformed, kind, helpful, and hot chocolate maker. Hermione, a hypocrite and liar. She fought for equalities on all levels, fought against the enslavement of House Elves, against prejudice, yet was found guilty of not allowing Slytherins the chance to fit in, of lying as the first response, of taking up somebody's hospitality with nothing to offer them. She had never felt so ashamed.

The air was thick with tension, and Hermione couldn't think of how to redeem this situation. She wanted to ask how Draco managed to redeem himself, but only felt as if she'd be using him. "I should get home, I have a few application forms to fill in."

Draco nodded and stood up at the same time as she did. "I'll see you out."

They walked to his front door in silence before pausing. "Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome."

The seconds ticked by slowly, his breath tickling her cheek. Draco's eyes flickered to her lips before he pulled open his door.

"I'll see you around."

"Goodbye."

As she stepped out the door, she felt the urge to turn around and talk to him for a little bit longer, but knew that would be a mistake. She had made so many mistakes today, but now decided that ducking out of the rain wasn't the worst mistake she could have made that day.