Title: Back To You
Author: mandyjg
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Belongs to JK Rowling.
Warnings: None.
Author: I hope you like this. Big thanks to my wonderful beta, kazfeist. And my pompom carriers. :D
Summary: The words made no sense, they were unimportant.

Back To You

"Why did you say it?"

Blaise didn't close the paper, or even look up from his page, he continued to skim the news idly as he answered, "Say what? I've said a few things in my lifetime."

"About Granger, we were just walking, why did you bring her up?" Draco demanded.

"Well, I was reminded of her -- "


Sighing quietly, he closed the paper, "We passed this office building or something, and I remember that I'd seen her there the other day. Thought I'd tell you, seemed the thing to do. Obviously not."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've been in a funk every since I mentioned it, moody and off in some weird reality. Maybe, I should have just kept my mouth shut," he said.

Blaise picked up his coffee cup, and left the kitchen, and Draco. He continued to stand there, with his hands on his hips wondering just what Blaise was playing at. There was some ulterior motive at work here, it wasn't just a throwaway comment, there was more to it. As far as he knew, Blaise didn't know, no-one did. Only two people did, and neither of them was going to tell anyone. Then again, he wasn't a fool, he picked up on things, and he did work with both of them at the Ministry. It stood to reason that he'd notice a vibe, or something. That was over long ago though, a mutual understanding, so whatever Blaise thought he was doing, there was no point to it.

He was curious though, and a little envious. Hermione had quit a few days after their relationship had ended, and he hadn't seen her since. He hadn't been surprised by her leaving, her doing it had been the only reason he hadn't. It was a messy situation, complicated by closeness, and anything to alleviate it certainly made it easier on him. As hard, and as necessary, as the break had been, he hadn't wanted it. He wanted to see her for himself, to see her face, to know that she was okay, he hadn't realised just how much he missed her voice, or her smile. They were such simple things, but he ached to see them. He woke up in the middle of the night, hearing her soft voice whispering in his ears.

The words made no sense, they were unimportant. All he wanted to feel was her gentle breath against his neck, making the hairs raise on end; it didn't matter what she was saying, the simple fact that she was speaking to him at all made it what it was.

He wanted to be the one to run into her down in the street, to go and talk to her, without fear of the many eyes that would be on them. Even during their relationship the fear of what people would say, or do, if he had dared to speak to her in public was crippling. Draco had moved past worrying over what people thought of him, and his family, but putting her in that situation, lumping her into the reject basket wasn't something he wanted to do.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he walked down the hallway towards Blaise's room, stopping himself in the door. "Sorry about that, just a bit, on edge."

He could hear Blaise moving around in his bathroom, "Don't worry about it. I shouldn't have said anything."

"If you saw her, you saw her, no reason not to bring it up."

"Oh, I could think of a few," he appeared in the door, smiling at Draco he continued. "You two were bloody obvious, to me at least. You'd seal your room for the night, and Hermione would be falling asleep on her desk the next day, without fail. There were all these little touches here and there, smiles that no one was supposed to see. I knew for a long time, and knew the instant you two called it off."

"You know, I never liked keeping it from you. We just didn't tell anyone at the beginning, and then it was too hard to tell anyone," Draco sat on the edge of his bed. "It was nice almost, just us two, our own little secret. Then when we finished, it was better that we hadn't. No one commented, we just went our separate ways."

"Who made that call? And don't give me the 'mutual' cop out," he asked. "They never are."

"I'm not sure - I think about it, and I can't figure it out. We were just chatting one morning, it got serious, we both ended up yelling, and I ended up in my boxers on her front porch. It was over."

"Did you want that?"


"Well did you --"

"Yeah, I don't think she did."

"Is that why she's not working at the office anymore?"

"More than likely," he said quietly.


"God, where did you put it?"

"In the filing cupboard, like I always do."

"Well, it's not there," she snapped. "So, obviously you didn't."

Draco crossed the room, and wrenched open the drawer, "I opened this one, and put it in the 'M' section, M for Mandalay. I'm not bloody stupid, Granger, I know how to put files away."

"Then where is it?" Hermione asked, placing her hands on her hips, "If you put it away properly, then it should be easy to see, but its not."

He closed the drawer, taking several breaths before he turned around. "Did you try summoning It?"

"Yes! I'm not dense, Malfoy, but still it didn't turn up! Are you sure you put it in there?"

"As sure as I bloody well could be," he said. "I put it behind the Morrison folder, I remember, because I have to follow-up with them, and it reminded me. I wouldn't recall that if I hadn't."

"Probably not," she sighed, pushing her hair out of her face. "So, you put it away? I haven't touched it, no-one else had any reason to look at it... someone stole it."

"What? That's stupid! That file, not that important! He's not some Ministry insider, he's a bloody shopkeeper in Leeds, selling second hand furniture," Draco scoffed, as he sat down at his desk, opening his latest client's folder. He chose to ignore Granger and her constant pacing; it had worked well for him in the past. The muttering to herself though, that was a bit of a pain.

He tried to focus on the figures in front of him, to look for inconsistencies, but all he could hear was Granger's theories as to where the bloody file had gone.

He knew he had put it away, he'd been in the department for three years and he knew how to do his job. Draco also knew how difficult Granger could be when something wasn't done --- he dotted all his i's, and crossed all the t's like a good little boy.

Hermione crossed the room, and started shuffling the papers on her desk, "It has to be here, where could it be?"

"Why does it matter so much?" He asked finally, "We finished with them months ago, I was just tying up a loose end."

"Oh I know," she said quickly. "The department heads are all meeting tomorrow, and I need to submit a request for more resources, but for them to even consider us, they need to go over the work we've been doing, and we handled that client brilliantly. It has to be in there, as an example."

"There are plenty of other good cases..."

"Not like that one," Hermione interrupted. "Hang on, Deacon looked at it the other week, where is he?"

"Lunch," he said simply.

"It's three o'clock in the afternoon? He can't still be at lunch."

"Sadly Granger, not everyone shares our work ethic."

She paid no attention to his comment, stalking out of their shared office, and across the hall to their colleague's desk. Draco could see her from his position, she didn't lean against it, just stood there; arms folded over her chest, tapping one foot against the ground. He could almost feel sorry for the poor chap, but then he remembered that it wasn't him who was facing Hermione's wrath, so he was all for her letting him have it.

And she did.

Draco didn't even pretend to focus on his work now as she railed into Deacon; it was a pleasure watching someone else's face turn red as they were so roundly embarrassed. He blinked as she said what appeared to be thank you before leaving him be at last.

"What an idiot," she said quietly as she sat behind her desk.

"I never said otherwise, where is it?"

"Where's what?"

"The file."

"Oh, he sent it down to storage," she said dismissively. "New Ministry policy for all closed cases, he's going down to get it now."

"Right, anything else?"

"No," she said furrowing her brow.

"You sure? There isn't some burning urge to say something, to me?"

"Malfoy I'm busy, I don't have time for your games."

"No game Granger," he said, moving from his desk, and stopping in front of hers. "It's purely a common courtesy. It's just plain old polite."



"Thank you for helping me look for the file."

He shook his head, "That's not all Granger, and the rest."

Draco thought he heard the tiniest growl, "I'm sorry I blamed you for its absence."

"All forgiven," he said as he walked to the door, stopping and turning to smile at her, "but thank you for apologising."


He wasn't an early riser, preferring to stay in bed, and laze away the morning. This morning was different, he'd lain awake the night before, his mind unable to shut down. Sleep had been fleeting, but the scarce amount that he'd had, wasn't peaceful. It wasn't the first time his dreams had been filled with her; moments they had shared together, and the ones that hadn't happened, that he wouldn't mind having had with her. It was becoming clear to him that he wasn't over her, far from it. Draco was able to push her from his mind, not forgetting, just choosing to focus on other things. That brief time they had spent together, locked away from the rest of the world, was the happiest he'd ever been. Feelings had flown through him that he'd never felt before. He felt safe; the world stopped racing without him, he'd found his place, or so he had thought. He had found his feet, and then the rug was pulled from under his feet.

He sat at the kitchen table nursing a cup in his hand, as Blaise ambled in, and stopped in his tracks, rubbing a hand over his eyes.


"Yeah, it is," Blaise looked at him quizzically. "Or at least I thought it was."

"Ha ha," Draco said. "I can get up early."

"You just choose not to, ever."

He shrugged, "I couldn't sleep. This is a better alternative to tossing and turning, doesn't muss my hair."

"Forever vain," he chuckled sleepily.


"Have you eaten?"

"Not yet, you cooking something?"

Raising an eyebrow, "Do you want me to cook something?"

Draco smiled at him, "Well, you don't want me to scratch your pans, do you?"

He just grumbled softly, before heading into the kitchen. "What would you do without me? You wouldn't survive."

"There is this new thing, a restaurant. Since I have this handy thing called money, I think I'd be okay."

"Oh you use me for so much more than food," Draco heard over the rattle of the dishes.

He wanted to use him for information, it wasn't enough for him to know that Blaise had seen her down the street, it all just skimmed the surface. Who was she with? What was she doing? How did she look? He ached to ask him, Draco wasn't a patient person by nature. He wanted what he wanted, and he wanted it when he wanted it. He had stopped himself throughout the night from going to Blaise, and just sating his curiosity.

"Just ask," Blaise said loudly.


"Me, it's the only thing that could have kept you up for most of the night, and I can only imagine, you want to ask me something. So ask me."

"It's just... I'm jealous."

With a sound akin to choking, Blaise poked his head out the door, "Jealous? You are going to have to explain that one to me!"

"It was you, you saw her, spoke to her, all I get to do is live through that experience with the details you'll give me. I want to know more than you could possibly tell me," Draco sighed. "The thought that you know more about her, her present state is horrible. I don't want to feel that way about you, but I can't help it."

He nodded, disappearing back into the kitchen, before coming back into the kitchen. "It was completely unexpected, she very nearly ran in the opposite direction, but I said hello, and she stopped."

"She likes you, I can't imagine her running away from you," Draco whispered.

"Yeah, but I live with you, you are my best friend. There would have been a strong chance that I would have been with you. Obviously, she didn't want to take that chance."

"How was she?"

"She was quiet, antsy almost, she was polite to a point, but you could tell she was anxious to get away."

Speaking carefully, "How did she look?"

"I won't say fine, just tired, I think. Wrung out, I don't think this 'break-up' is agreeing with her, she has never looked this bad."

"It was her choice," Draco said quickly.

"No, gods, Draco, don't be a bloody fool!" He slammed his hand against the table, "You were happy, she was bloody happy, and because of some disagreement, that you can't even remember, you are letting it slip away."

"She's letting it slip away..."

"And you are letting her! Damn, mate, you can make her take you back, all you have to do is fight for it, you didn't fight her."

"I did!"

"Well, you didn't try hard enough, and every day you don't try and reclaim it is another day lost. You need to go to her, and make her listen. If you don't, someone else will get her heart, and you don't want that."

"Of course I don't."

"I know," Blaise sighed. "I'm going to make us some eggs, then you are going to shower, and go see her. Start communicating with her, take a small step, but you need to take a step."


He couldn't escape, surrounded by a crowd, with a wall behind him, and her coming rapidly coming up in front of him. There was no way out. He was doomed, to face her questions, her judgments; Draco understood her concerns, her dislike, but Pansy was a strong willed witch, and who she wanted to marry was entirely in her hands. He was just glad that she didn't have her eye on him, he did wish, though, that Pansy had already turned it onto someone else. Sadly, her mother didn't feel the same way.

Sighing to himself, he placed his drink on the table beside him, a table with a tablecloth, a long tablecloth that brushed against the floor. The time for pride had passed, it was survival instincts only. He prayed that no-one noticed as he dropped to the floor, and quickly ducked under the table. Draco could hear Mrs. Parkinson asking those who had been standing next to him, if they had seen him go. Breathing deeply, he crouched on his haunches, listening for signs of her departing, which weren't forthcoming. Cursing under his breath, he started crawling along the floor under the table. Clearly, the only way to escape was to come out the other side.

It was a long table. He could hear the voices of people surrounding it. Just as he was nearing the end, the unthinkable happened: the tablecloth was pulled from the ground, and a head appeared, followed closely by a hand.

Before she had a chance to say anything, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her under the table, covering her mouth with his other hand.

Letting go off her elbow, "Don't say anything!" She rolled her eyes, before flicking them down to her mouth, and he pulled his hand away.

"What are you doing?" She whispered fiercely. "And why the hell did you drag me under here?!"

"I was cornered, and this was the only way out. Mrs. Parkinson has been attempting to chat with me all night, and her vein of chat is generally how it should be me who is marrying Pansy, and I really don't want to have that conversation."

"Fine, but me? I'm not hiding from anyone."

"You stuck your head under here, and I knew that when you saw me, you would say something, and I would be discovered. Not what I want, Granger."

"Damn, Malfoy! I can't just pop back up out there, it will look odd."

"Then I guess we are stuck together," he grinned.

"Great," Hermione muttered, turning and leaning herself against the wall. "I only dropped an earring, it doesn't mean I should be stuck with you."

"Quit complaining," he said moving to sit next to her. "Many a witch would love to be stuck with me under a table. I daresay they'd have started taking their dress off already."

"Oh! Not happening! You'd do well to remember that," she said quickly.

"Are you blushing, Granger?"

"God, Malfoy," Hermione snapped. "You don't have to be like that, just because I don't want to shag you under a table at my best friend's wedding."

"So, you'd shag me if it wasn't your best friend's wedding? Or maybe, if we weren't under the table? How about if we were on top of it? We'd have to move the cake, though," he said thoughtfully. "Pansy would not look too fondly on us ruining her cake in our coital enthusiasm."

She didn't respond, just angled her watch to look at the time.

"Unless of course, you have some weird kink for food, then maybe we could work the cake into it. Maybe you could spread it all over my chest, and then eat it off, or you know, we could swap roles. How do you want to do this?"

"I don't. Delusions, Malfoy; I'll buy you a dictionary," she snapped. "Then you can look it up."

"You fight it too much, Hermione, it would be good, great even."

"It's not happening."

"So you say..."

"So I know."

"I'm not going to stop; it will happen."

"It won't."


"Because I won't let it."

He groaned, banging his head against the wall behind him. It had been like this for weeks, he wasn't used to this. Normally he was pursued, eagerly, and now what he wanted, and would love to have, wasn't forthcoming. A lesser man may have given up, but it only served to make him more determined to get it, so the innuendos when they were together only were stepped up. He hovered over her desk in the office, did everything he could to be there whenever she turned around. Draco Malfoy pretty much became a desperate man, and it seemed to be to no avail. Not when she fought it every step of the way, but he couldn't blame her.

They had never really gotten along well with each other, and he could barely understand it himself. All he could recollect was one morning, an underling, someone barely on his radar, had flirted with her, openly, and while she laughed, and brushed him off, he couldn't put it out of his mind. The thought had never before crossed his mind. Hermione Granger, while a witch, wasn't a beauty in his mind, so he couldn't see what it was that made this boy attempt to 'chat her up'. So he looked at her closely, as he would at any other witch, scrutinising her, looking for that thing that made her appealing; and before he knew it. He saw it. She was appealing, in her own way; the bookish Gryffindor was suddenly very appealing, and he wanted her as much as he'd wanted any other witch. The only problem being, she didn't want him.

"You can be so frustrating you know that?" He said, forcing her to look at him. "For weeks, I've tried to get you to listen to me, to try and see if what I think, or feel towards you is worth anything, and you disregard it every time. It's not bloody fair."

"Fair? I'm not trying to be fair."

"Why won't you listen to me? I'm not asking for anything exceptional, Hermione: dinner if you want, a kiss goodnight maybe, and then if you still want me to bugger off, I will. But you can't just push me away without giving it, giving me a chance."

"Draco," she whispered, closing her eyes. "It's not that easy. You and I, two different worlds, and if they collided, everything would fall apart around us. I can't risk that happening. We wouldn't be able to work together anymore, and I don't want to lose a good working partner."

"You wouldn't," he said, nudging her with his knee. "All I want is a chance, and an opportunity to try. We don't even have to do dinner, now. After pushing you for something, with nothing, I'd settle for a kiss."

Hermione opened her eyes, "I can do that."

"Do you want to do that, though? I'm not asking for something to shut me up, I'll only do it if you want it."

She gazed at him for a moment, her hand coming up, and grazing his cheek, before moving to the back of his neck. Raising herself slightly, she pressed her lips against his, a light brush before she pulled back.

"Granger, that's not a kiss."

"Yes, it was. Our lips met, we kissed."

He shook his head, "Technically correct yes, but satisfactory?" Draco with an arm around her waist, pulled her over so she rested on his lap. "Far from it."


"I never thought I'd be the one to teach Hermione Granger something," he muttered, as he kissed her, rather satisfactorily.


It was exactly how he remembered it, the small enclave of houses grouped together, the garden in the middle, and the rather fat cat laying over the path, barely raising its head as he stepped over it. He walked slowly down the path, feeling the unease grow inside him with every step, the door looming large in front of him. Reaching out he knocked lightly, and stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. He could hear her moving around inside, coming closer to the door. He could just hear it over the rapid beat of his heart in his chest.

The door seemed to open in slow motion, and she gasped loudly, "What are you doing here?"

"I just," he swallowed thickly. "I wanted to see you."

"That's nice," she said bitterly. "Well now you have; anything else?"


"No!" She held up a hand.

"Can I come in?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said quickly. "I'm busy."

"Please, just for a minute?"

Hermione shook her head, "What do you want, Draco?"

There was an answer inside him to that question, but she wouldn't want to hear it. She would scoff, shake her head, and probably slam the door in his face. "There are many a things I want, Hermione, but at the moment, I'd like to come in most of all."

She stepped back, and opened the door to let him in. "I have work to do, so you'll have to be quick."

"Thanks," he said, stepping inside. Nothing had changed, he noticed, as he walked down the hall: the shelf overflowing with books, the stain of his tea on the sofa cushion, it was all still there, just as he'd remembered it. He glanced down at the desk; it was covered in parchments bound together. "Work?"


"Do you like it? This new job?"

"It's interesting, always changing," Hermione said softly, leaning against the bench. "Why did you come here?"

"Blaise said he bumped into you."

"He did, and that makes you come here, why?"

"Well, I wanted to see you, too."

Pursing her lips, she kept her eyes on the floor.

"Hermione, I don't really know what to say, but I can't not say anything. I just, miss you, is all."

"You miss me?"

"Every day."

Her reaction was far from ideal, instead of a look happiness, she looked angry. "Excuse me," she snapped, walking back down the hall. "Let yourself out."

Draco heard a door slam down the hallway, and the sound of running water. Pulling the chair from under the desk, he sat himself down, resting his head in his hands, cursing himself for not thinking of what to say. The whole walk over, he had planned it out in his head, what he would say, what he would do, and one look at her, with her eyes shining sadly at him, and the words had failed him. He couldn't hear any; his plan had fallen on its arse and left him stranded. In his plans, he would say that he missed her, and she would say something similar, they'd agree to let whatever had happened remain in the past, and they would be together again. It was naive to think that, but it was what he wanted: a chance to start over again, to wipe the slate clean. But, clearly, there was more at play, here.

"What do you want me to say, Draco?" she whispered from the doorway. "That's it's alright, I miss you too, more than I thought possible? I do, but I can't forget what happened."

"I don't even know what happened!" he said, sitting up straight. "We were happy; I thought we were, I surely was. We were talking, and then you started yelling at me about investment in the relationship, and telling me to get the hell out of your house, and I ended up half naked in the bloody snow."

"Oh yes, all my fault! I gave you the biggest indication I could without flat out telling you what I wanted, what I wanted with us, and you completely shut me down. Clearly, I wasn't as important to you as you were to me."

"Dammit," he stood up, and placed his hands on her shoulders. "You were, are, the most important thing in my life. Cheesy, yes, but bloody hell, Granger, you had me. All of me."

"Then why, why did you laugh?"

"Laugh? At what?"

"The drawer, for my dresser."


"Not yet," he grumbled, "It's still too early."

"Early," she laughed. Shaking his shoulder again, "Draco, we have to be at work in twenty minutes, it's not early, it's very nearly late."

"Oh shit," Draco cursed, sitting up. A quick glance at the clock confirmed the time, "Why did you let me sleep in?"

Shaking her head, Hermione sat down on the end of her bed, "Right, I let you sleep in. You don't remember an hour ago? Or maybe a half hour before that?" She chuckled as she pulled her shoes on. "It wasn't a case of 'letting' you sleep in, you slept in. Against my advice."

"Ah whatever you say, shit, where are my pants?" He said, as he looked around for them. Hermione laughed softly, throwing his boxers at him. "Not funny Granger, I have to go home and get fresh clothes, I have a meeting this morning, and I can't wear crumpled robes."

"You didn't bring any?"

"I forgot," he said, moving into the living area, looking behind the lounge.

"I've been thinking," Hermione said, walking behind him, "You seem to be staying here a fair bit, right?"

"Whenever you let me," he grinned at her.

A slight blush grew over her cheeks, as she shook her head slightly, "I have something for you."

"Clean robes?"

"No," she smiled, taking his hand, Hermione pulled him down the hallway to her bedroom. "But, something along those lines." Leaving him standing in the doorway, she pulled out a drawer from her dresser, and placed it on the bed. "For you."


"Mm-hm," she grinned.

"Granger, it's a drawer?"

"I know that silly."

"I have drawers, at home, but, thanks," Draco laughed.

"You don't want it?" She said slowly.

"I don't need it," he shrugged.

"Right," she whispered, picking it up and placing it back in the cupboard. She pushed herself past him, and walked quickly down the hallway.

Shaking his head, Draco followed her, finding her shoving her things into her bag quickly. "Granger?"

"Get dressed, Malfoy, you don't want to be late."

"You haven't called me Malfoy in months," he said quietly. Hermione swallowed. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothings wrong! What could possibly be wrong?" She snapped, "I just I took the rose-coloured glasses off, and I really saw everything. So, just get dressed, and get the hell out of my house."


"Get out."

"You are going to have to explain this to me first, because it makes no fucking sense."

"I, thought we had something," she said fiercely. "I'm not entirely sure what it was, but I liked it. It was good, wonderful, and I thought it was heading to something more. So I figured, I would take that next step, make it more solid. You however, obviously don't care for that step. Maybe you don't even care for me."

"Wait a minute, of course I bloody do!"

"Right," she snorted, shaking her head. "I don't really want to look at you right now, so if you could just piss off, that would be wonderful."



"I'm not even bloody dressed..."

Hermione pushed herself past him, and opened her front door. "I want you to go." Draco went and stood beside her, he started to say something, only to be pushed outside and the door slammed shut behind him. He heard the locks click in quick succession.

"Bloody hell, Granger," he yelled. "What the hell is wrong with you? If you just explained this a little better to me, we could sort this out. Jeez, it's fucking snowing! I'll freeze on your doorstep!"

The door opened, and his clothes were thrown at him, the shoes bouncing off his head, before the door slammed again.



"I don't understand," Draco said. "I didn't then, and I sure as hell don't, now."

Hermione removed his hands from her shoulders, "It's pretty simple," she said moving to the lounge. "I wasn't ready to say it, because I wasn't sure I could, and I didn't know if you felt the same way as me; so I decided to give you something, something that would show you how I felt."

"Hermione, it was a drawer!"

"You don't get it? You really don't understand?" She cried.

"No," he sat next to her.

"It may have been just a drawer, but it meant much more. A step for us, to a more permanent, 'real' relationship."

"We were real."

"But where were we going?" Hermione asked, "We had those secret liaisons, running around, keeping it all to ourselves, and while it was lovely to be with you, it wasn't enough anymore. I wanted people to know, so that horrible secretary would stop mauling you every chance she got, and my mother would stop setting me up on dates with awful men."

"Hermione, I wanted more. I was ready for all that you wanted, but the drawer?"

"It's like having your toothbrush next to mine, the breakfast cereal you like in the cupboard," she said softly. "Your clothes in my cupboard, that's what the drawer was for. It's kind of like letting you know, without saying it, that you are welcome to stay whenever you like, for as long as you want. I want you to stay."

"You should have told me," Draco tentatively reached over, and took one of her hands in his. "I don't understand these things, in my family, you courted a witch, or you were betrothed, and then you got married. It's was that way, always, I don't know any other way."

Hermione ran her fingers through his, whispering, "I did miss you."

He sighed, tightening his grip on her hand, "What do you think, Granger? Do you forgive my awful gaffe?"

She smiled softly, "You know I do. I always do, don't I?"

Draco pulled her closer to him, wrapping his other arm around her waist. "I was an awful prat, and unfortunately, this means we can't pick up where we left off."

"Do you think so?" She asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah," he said glumly. "I have to go for a little bit, are you going to be here?"

Hermione nodded, "I have some work to do, I'll be here."

"Great," he kissed the top of her head. She didn't move as he stood up in front of them. He smiled at her as he Apparated away, back to his flat, surprising Blaise as he appeared in front of him.

Wiping the pumpkin juice off his shirt, "Well?"

"Not now," Draco said quickly, as he dashed down the hall, grabbing a box from the hall cupboard.

"So you aren't limping, and I see no obvious curse marks, did it go well?"

"Kind of," Draco said as he went into his bedroom, dropping the box in front of his wardrobe.

"Then what are you doing here?" Blaise asked from the doorway. "One step isn't enough, you should be there, not here, giving your clothes away," he said slowly. "What are you doing? I love that shirt!"

"Me too," Draco smiled, moving into his bathroom with the box in his hand.

"Okay," Blaise said, right behind him, "I'm officially lost."

Draco chuckled, throwing various things into the box, "Hey, what's that cereal you buy? The one with the fruit?"

"Just Right."


"Okay, Draco stop, and tell me what the hell is going on!"

"I stuffed up before," he said picking up the box, "I was given something, and I didn't recognise it, like a bloody fool. This," he held up the box, "Is me making it right again."

"Right," Blaise said, shaking his head. "Well, good luck," he walked out of the room.

Draco smiled, before Apparating himself back. Hermione was sitting in the same position. She looked up at him, and raised an eyebrow. "That was quick."

"I was in a hurry," he grinned.

"And the box?"

He dropped it onto the coffee table, "The drawer, what have you done with it?"

"Nothing," she said, "It's back in the dresser."


Hermione nodded, "I couldn't bring myself to put anything in to it."

"Glad to hear it," he said, sitting down next to her.

Fingering the top of the box, "Do you want the drawer?"

"I want everything," Draco sat next to her, waiting for her. "Now is when you usually say something," he said, watching her run her fingers over the outside of the box.

Clearing her throat, she turned to him, "It's yours."