Authors note; Ok, I bet some of you are confused. Basically, this story is 'Seven Sins, Seven Virtues', but I've changed it around - alot. I liked the concept, so I just deleted chapter 2, and replaced chapter 1. I thought it would notify you, but apparently it doesnt do that. So, it suggest you go back and read the new version of chapter one. Otherwise this might make sense, but not really. Anyway, I'm pretty please at how this turned out. And its quite a long one - 5,502 words. So I hope you all like it. Anyway, please read, review and everything else. Thank you for the reviews I did get. And to edwardsoneandonly for prompting me and pointing things out; thank you. Also to OnceUponADecember thank you for putting up with my annoying PMs and for letting me change this up.

I hope you all enjoy 3


Chapter 2

Compassion

Compassion – Associated with the virtue of kindness. Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it.

6 years later...

"Son of a banshee," Hermione Granger cussed furiously under her breath as she hopped around the ground floor of her cottage trying to find the missing shoe. It was black, had a two inch stiletto heel, was covered in a soft black fabric, and peep-toed. It was a mirror image of the shoe on her right foot and she cussed again under her breath; this time at her stupidity.

Pulling the wand out of the pocket in her just-above-knee length black skirt muttered "Accio missing black shoe." From underneath a pizza box the mirror image shoe flew gently towards her, which she caught quickly then rammed on her left foot. As she bent down to do this, she felt a sharp prod on her backside. She whirled around to find 4 odd black shoes, toes pointing towards her, hovering waiting to be picked up.

"For Merlin's sakes," She sighed, and pushed each shoe to the floor, mentally noting that she really needed to tidy up this place – and sort out her shoes at that. Quickly Hermione picked up a pile of papers and her smart red briefcase that her mother had bought her for her last birthday, and a black Channel handbag she had indulged in after her first big case had been won, she quickly opened the front door, closed it behind her, tapped it twice with her wand, walked out into her driveway and closed her eyes and thought of the Ministry.

The street was busy with witches and wizards heading towards the grand entranceway, and most nodded their head in her direction, waved, and wished her good morning.

"Ah, Hermione, I was hoping to catch you on your way in." Hermione turned and saw a dumpy witch jogging to catch up with her. She was short and round, with a flamboyant taste in robes, today which were bright magenta and green, the clashed horribly with her dark auburn hair.

She smiled, "What's the problem Ellis?"

Ellis and Hermione walked together to the lifts to take to the second floor, and Elis accompanied her to her office, talking continuously and spewing a tragic story of her nephew and an issue with underage magic, three ministry warnings and a threatened expulsion. Hermione and Ellis walked right up to Hermione's office door, and upon Hermione agreeing for fourteenth time to speak personally to Mafalda Hopkirk, Ellis turned away and headed back down the corridor.

Hermione rested her forehead against the door to her office and hanged her head again the glass three times. It was going to be one of those days.

The Department of Magical Law enforcement was a large department, Hermione's office was the furthest possible from the lift, as she often noted angrily when she had a large pile of papers to take home that night. The section in which her office was in was at the end of the east wing of the department. From the lifts a long cream coloured corridor lead to a large room, in which ten junior staff and interns worked in. Senior members of department had individual offices as appose to the booths the rest of the workforce had.

Hermione had a senior staff office, though at the age of 25 she was the youngest witch in the history of the Ministry to have an office as such. The office actually more like two offices, combined. A glass wall cut it off from the rest of the department, but Hermione had felt like an animal in a zoo, so had the blinds drawn except for one panel, and the door, which always was open. Through the door, which she walked through now, was a small office type room. A desk and a chair sat neatly to the right of a door that was framed with a dark wood that was part of wall. This was for an assistant. It wasn't that she hadn't hired one yet, because an assistant was what she really wanted, but all the people assigned to her had started on Monday and had quit by Wednesday.

Hermione's assistant, or lack of, was a running joke in the office, but Hermione found it amusing, and welcomed interns to take the challenge of trying to last a week. They never did. Hermione vowed after the last crying blonde had left the office, pink stapler and nail file in hand, that she would try and be nicer to the next applicant. She had too much work to not have an assistant.

Despite Hermione's best effort to try and brighten up the assistant section of her office, no one wanted to apply. She had added several potted plants and flowers. She even had two small goldfish in a glass bowl sitting on the desk, trying to liven it up. A set of cream sofas and chairs sat off to the left, magazines set on a class table. When Ginny came to visit her, they often sat there and enjoyed a cup of coffee.

She sighed as she opened her office door put the papers she was carrying and her briefcase down on her desk. Unlike her cottage, her desk was immaculate; a in-tray and out-try sat on the right hand corner, mainly for her own usage seeing as the concept seemed lost on the majority of the department. Sets of quills and ink pots were next to the tray. The desk was large and faced the corridor. Behind it sat a big blue chair, and behind that a big bay window in which the sky was usually a perfect blue with the odd string of clouds floating by.

The left wall of the office was filled with files and reference books. Along the left side sat two armchairs and a sofa facing each other with a smart class coffee table. A vase of purple orchids bloomed in a vase on the table, and two goldfish swam in a big glass bowl on the windowsill. Hermione liked goldfish.

She took a seat behind her desk and began filing through the papers that had been left on it. Through the two doors which she had propped open walked past calling to her a cheery 'hello' which she replied to. Every so often a paper plane would fly through with a note or remark from various people from various departments.

It was eleven o'clock on her omega wrist-watch then the paper-plane arrived. She caught it with her left hand, her eyes not wavering from the parchment she was writing on. She finished her paragraph then turned to the note. She recognized the hand writing immediately; Augusta Spink. Head of Magical Law Enforcement – Hermione's boss.

Hermione unfolded the note quickly, knowing that Augusta wasn't exactly known for her patience and felt her heart skip a beat.

Ms. Granger,

I request you come to my office as soon as possible, regarding you proposal for the pastories.

Regards,

Augusta Spink

Head of Magical Law Enforcement

Order of Merlin third class

Member of the Wizengemot.

Hermione quickly walked over to her adjoining bathroom and smoothed over her white blouse, wiped away some smudged eyeliner with a finger, then began to walk down the corridor to Augusta's office.

It wasn't that she didn't like wearing robes, because Hermione certainly did, but as a child growing up in the Muggle community, she had always dreamed about being a high class business woman who wore smart slick black skirts and white blouses and black shoes. It was this dream she had taken to the Ministry of Magic. Her fashion style made her stick out like a sore thumb, but she liked it. Power dressing was the Muggle term. Hermione felt it rather adequate.

She walked briskly across the hallway and down the corridor towards Augusta Spink's office, and as she walked, she frowned. Thinking back to the note, Augusta had said, 'plan for the pastories.'

Pastories?

What in the name of Merlin was a pastorie? Hermione hadn't written any proposal for pastories. She couldn't even think what a pastorie was.

Hermione walked through the door and smiled at Augusta's secretary, a good looking young man named Sam. He was dark skinned with short cropped hair only a few years younger than Hermione.

"Hey Hermione, she's waiting for you." He smiled at her, and winked, as though knowing something she didn't.

"Thanks, Sam." Hermione frowned but smiled back at him and knocked once before walking into Augusta's office.

Augusta's office was circular and simple. Piles of papers were staked haphazardly on every visible surface. Hermione felt the need to go and tidy and file it all for her, and her fingers twitched at her sides. Augusta was a round woman, with short curly brown hair and sparkling green eyes. She was a confusion to Hermione, and Hermione could think of no one she thought less suited to working in Law Enforcement. But Augusta obviously felt differently and had been working in the department for over 20 years.

Augusta herself was tall, beginning to wrinkle, fake tanned skin, and grey flecked her brown hair. She had brown eyes the colour of molten chocolate that had a light about them. She reminded Hermione of an orang-utan with a spark in its eye.

"Morning Augusta," Hermione said, clenching her hands to stop them from leading her to the chair that was hidden with reports and files and organizing it.

"Ah, there you are Granger." Augusta said. She instantly dropped her quill and scurried around her desk to Hermione, the smell of cigarettes strong on her breath of clothes. "Now, I'll cut to the chase, I spoke to the Minister about this proposal concept of yours about pastories – "

"Forgive me," Hermione spoke nervously. "But I didn't make a proposal about – "

"Yes you did, girl! About prisoners from Azkaban having sentences reduced or altered based on behaviour and conduct? And that they would have an assigned officer to check on them and make sure they are reintegrating into society in a positive manner. Also about trying to get them jobs?"

Hermione's brain clicked. "You mean parolees?"

"That's the Kneazle. Parolees? Pastories? What's the difference? Anyway, guess what?" Augusta bounced up and down slightly causing her large chest to wobble. It amazed Hermione at how quick the woman went from frustrated to excited. It wasn't natural.

"What?" Hermione asked, playing along.

"The minister has agreed for us to try it out. Apparently he's under a lot of pressure to get the old Death Eaters out, you know?"

Hermione gulped. When she had suggested that a parolee system be introduced, it was for things like theft and fraud – not murder and torture. I didn't surprise her that Kingsley was under pressure to do something with them.

What was someone meant to do with ex-members of a cult that killed, tortured and murdered innocent people and had tried to rise to power, and had successfully managed a coup in the ministry? Maybe she should try and explain. She thought she had made it clear in the proposal.

"Er...Augusta, you know that when I suggested the starting of a parolee system, it was for minor offences. Like theft and fraud, not more...er...serious offenders."

"Well, I am aware of that. You did express that quite a lot in the proposal."

Phew.

"So that's why I've found someone for you to try it on; this new plan of yours. You have 6 months to make this person a decent member of society. You've been looking for an assistant for Merlin knows how long. So here it is, you get an assistant. And a test run of your program. Fresh from Azkaban; but don't worry, I told Sam to take him to the bathrooms and Sam has leant him some clothes. It's all good."

Hermione blinked.

"And, between you and me," Augusta winked, "Kingsley told me that if it goes well, he'll make it a new department, and that he'd consider you heading it! Imagine that, head of a department and not even 26." Augusta beamed.

Hermione blinked again.

"So I got you an ex-Death Eater."

Hermione blinked for a third time, then seemed to find her voice. "What?" She gasped, her mouth forming a comical 'o'.

"Oh keep up Granger," Augusta breezed, waving her hand flippantly, "Kingsley – ".

"No, I heard what you said." Hermione whispered, clutching the back of the paper suffocated chair for support.

"Then what's the problem? I thought you'd be happy." Augusta looked slightly crestfallen.

"N-no, Augusta! I-I'm so pleased. R-really. And I'm so happy about the new department idea, I think it would great for the ministry. But a ex-Death Eater? For me to be in-charge of? This is going to take weeks of planning and preparation."

Augusta seemed to take Hermione's small ounce of hidden happiness and accepted it and took it as an apology for not being so happy before. So she beamed and said, "Oh hardly, Granger. He's sitting outside my office now."

Hermione thought she might faint.

"Now?"

"Yes, well, there's no time like the present is there?"

Small sounds emitted from Hermione's mouth, all incoherent and stuttered.

"Well don't do an impression of those delightful goldfish of yours, let's go and meet him."

Augusta took Hermione's hand and led a shocked and dumbfounded Hermione to her office door and yanked it open in haste. "I present to you, the freshly washed and fresh from Azkaban...Draco Malfoy."

Oh no.

The blond had stood quickly upon the door being opened and kept his head down, unsure whether or not this was still a dream. He looked up from the fringe that fell in his eyes and saw a curly haired beauty next to the monkey like woman who had brought him to the Ministry.

"Malfoy?" Hermione breathed at the same time he said "Granger?"

Malfoy couldn't help but run his eyes over her body. How she had changed. Still short, but now more curvy in all the right places, oh yes, he thought looking at her blouse, all the right places. He watched her half turn to the monkey-witch, and saw there was a perfectly shaped behind there too. Her jaw had firmed and her high cheek bones too. Her hair long hair was soft and silky, all hints of frizz gone, and it hung in messy waves around her face. She was Muggle clothes, and this amused him. He smiled crookedly in spite of himself. How his Hermione never changed.

Hermione however thought she had never seen Malfoy look so different. Thin in the extreme with his face looking more like a skull than anything else. His once smooth-slick blonde hair now hung messy and slightly long, as though in need of a decent cut. Despite his obvious washing, he was still dirty, and Hermione could see patches of dirt on his face. He wore a white shirt and a blue tie which she did recognize as Sam's and dark blue trousers with the belt wrapped around twice. This alarmed Hermione. Sam wasn't fat, not in the slightest. Even Hermione could see through the shirt at the toned chest, and new that this must mean Draco must be severely underweight.

It almost pained her to see him like this. This was not the Draco she remembered. He was smiling slightly she noted, but his eyes showed deeper scars. She felt a wave of pity for the Slytherin.

"Mr Malfoy, this is Hermione Granger. But it seems you two already know each other." Augusta chuckled to herself, as though she had previously researched the matter personally.

"Granger." Malfoy nodded.

"That'll be Ms. Granger to you, young man." Augusta said harshly.

"Miss Granger," Malfoy muttered, head lowering slightly.

Hermione wanted to say something. She felt like she should, but was unsure of where to take the conversation.

"Alright, Hermione, why don't you take Malfoy back to your office and explain to him his duties." Augusta smiled, and when Hermione didn't move, she gave her a little nudge.

Hermione went with the force of the nudge, and though small, seemed to give her the momentum she needed to come crashing back to reality but continued to pray this was a dream.

"Malfoy," she said and began to walk quickly back to her office. The blond needed no further encouragement and scrambled after her. Hermione seemed to make it to her office in record time, Malfoy quick at her heals. She reached the glass door and held it open for Malfoy as he followed her in. The people in their booths had started to recognize who was walking with Hermione and she closed the door quickly behind her, and pulling her wand out the top of her skirt, with a quick swish, drew the blinds. She turned to him and blinked a few times, unable to think of what to say.

"So, Hermione," Draco said, the smirked, "Oh, I mean, Miss Granger."

Then he wanted to slap himself.

"Just...ur...take a seat," Hermione indicated to the cream sofa to the left of him. "I...err...need to get my notes." She almost ran to her office and closed the door quickly behind her, sliding down the back of it and landing a head by the floor.

This could not be happening. No. Not at all. This was like...there was nothing to even compare it too, Hermione though bitterly, I was that bad, there was nothing to compare it too. Hermione hadn't thought of Draco in years.

Yes you have, her heart pointed out. You think of Draco most nights. Hermione wanted to spontaneously combust.

But it was true. She often did think of him. It was usually at night, with Crookshanks curled up on the pillow next to her, and with Toby her rescue German Shepherd dog lying on the bottom of the bed, she thought about what he could be thinking about, before he went to bed. What he was feeling. What he would want to do when he got out. Weather of not if she had testified better, he would have had a lesser sentence.

Hermione had done her best, Harry and Ron both agreed, albeit reluctantly, to testify with her, and he had been sentenced to eight years in Azkaban. Hermione, at the time, had been appalled, but reasoned over the next few days it could have been worse. But only now, looking back on his trail, did she realize six years had passed, and six years was a long time. And he would have had two more, if Augusta hadn't stepped in.

It took her a few minutes but she quickly shook herself, stood up, and headed towards her filing cabinet to retrieve the mock up files for her new parole system.

While Hermione did this, the blond behind the door had collapsed into a chair and was currently trying to remember how to breathe.

Hermione Granger was the last person he had expected to see at the ministry. Maybe the first person he had hoped, but certainly the last he had expected. But Merlin, he couldn't help but think and smile, she was beautiful. He thought back to the last time he spoken to her, not at the trial, he wasn't allowed to talk to her then, but on the steps, outside their fallen school. She had been dirty, tired and crying; but still beautiful, in his eyes.

And their kiss.

Their kiss had been the one thought that had kept him sane, in Azkaban. He remembered her taste and would close his eyes and try to remember it and relive the moment. Late at night, when sleep evaded him as Insomnia sat next to him in the cell, he wondered where she would be. What she would be thinking about. What men should could possibly be with.

The latter annoyed him. He wasn't naive – he hadn't expected her not to have been with anyone, but a secret part of him had hoped she was waiting for him. But now, seeing her, he realized she must have someone, because there was no way in hell she was single.

But now, he was going to have to work for her. Work for Granger - or Miss Granger as he was to call her now. He smirked despite himself; at least she wasn't married. That was one blessing.

Hermione returned a few minutes later, clutching two files.

"Alright then, has Augusta explained to you what's going to happen?" Hermione asked Draco, reluctantly meeting the cool grey eyes.

He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

Hermione sighed, before opening a file, skim reading as she spoke. "Basically, it's based on the Muggle system of putting a convict – a person who has committed a crime and done jail time – and trying to re-integrate them into society in a positive way, making sure they don't re-offend. They are put on a thing called parole; this is when they are out of prison but are under strict observation by an officer. In this case," she paused before continuing reluctantly, "-myself." Hermione swallowed before continuing.

"I will be monitoring your attendance to your job, which, according to Augusta, will be as my assistant. I will need to write weekly reports on how well you do your job and how efficiently you work, et cetera. After six months -it's October now, so in March - I will evaluate the entire time period, and discuss it with Augusta, and if this has turned out to be a success, it will work on a larger scale. Does that make sense?"

Draco nodded, still unsure whether to talk. Hermione inwardly repetitively slapped herself. She sounded like a primary school teacher.

"You are going to be working as my assistant, and that will include tasks like making copies of documents, getting and replacing files from achieves, making sure all my meetings are organised and confirmed, and taking notes if necessary at these meetings." Hermione looked just over his shoulder as she said this, at a slight crack in the wall. "The desk behind me is where you will work."

He nodded again.

"Any questions?" She asked quietly.

A thousand burned on his lips, but he replied with an equally as quiet, "no."

Hermione nodded and stood up briskly, "Good. Take a seat at the desk; I have some papers I would appreciate you filing." She turned away, but turned back to look at him. Waves of pity rolled over her, and she knew she was going to have to help him in some way. She smiled tentatively at him, before going into her office, and returning with parchment and files.

After explaining her system she left him at the desk and hurried back to her office. She glanced at her watch. One-thirty. She had missed lunch, but wasn't even hungry. If anything, she felt slightly nauseated. She tried to continue on with work, but her mind kept straying to the person sitting at the desk separated from the wall in front of her.

He hadn't asked one question, and had accepted her filing system and he worked quickly and efficiently. But it had be awkward, at that was one thing Hermione didn't like. It made her uneasy. She supposed that was the point of awkwardness.

As she was making notes on a case, a reluctant knock at the door made almost jump out of her skin.

"C-come in." She stuttered.

Draco slowly opened the door and peered around the room, his eyes lingering on the goldfish bowl on the window sill, a slight smile coming to his lips.

"This came for you." He said. Walking forwards to hand her an envelope.

"Thank you." She responded, taking it from his outstretched hand without meeting his eye. Hermione quietly heard him close the door behind him. She tore open the letter, begging to be from someone saying APRIL FOOL! Or 'You just got Punk'd'. But she knew the latter was a Muggle thing they hadn't even heard of, and it was October, so that blew her dream for the first one.

It was from Augusta.

Hermione,

I trust things are going well with Malfoy. Please come to my office sometime before you leave to discuss the long term plan

Sincerely,

Augusta.

Hermione sat bolt upright and positively leapt from her chair in eagerness to leave. She made a B line for the door and wrenched it open. Draco looked up in surprise, but with barely a glance at him, she said, "Augusta needs to see me. Just continue with the filing, if that's ok. Thanks." And with that she was out the door.

All the while she almost ran to Augusta's office, the workers in the booths were craning her neck to see her, and a few even called her name. No doubt news of her new assistant had spread.

She slowed when she reached the door and took a deep breath before entering, the smile already plastered on her face, mainly for Sam's benefit.

"Twice in one day Hermione, you better stop, people might start getting the wrong idea Granger," Sam winked at her.

Resisting the urge to snap at him, she widened the fake grin and said, "Can I see Augusta."

"Yeah, she's just doing some paperwork. I'm surprised you came so fast, I delivered the note to Malfoy a few minutes ago. He seemed to be doing a good job from what I saw, and was pleasant enough to me. Well, he was wearing my clothes, so I should expect to I suppose." Sam chuckled at his own reasoning.

Hermione nodded before rushing into Augusta's office. She closed the door behind her with a sharp click. Augusta screamed in fright.

"Oh Merlin, Hermione! You gave an old lady a fright. Not that would you would know how old I am." Augusta winked playfully before continuing. "I wasn't expecting you to arrive so fast. I asked Sam to deliver the note not five minutes ago."

"Oh, I see, I just thought it could be important." Hermione lied smoothly.

"Fair enough. Anyway, do tell, how is Malfoy going?" Augusta peered up at Hermione.

"Good. He works well, doesn't ask questions. But he's only been around a few hours." Hermione summarized, then regretted the last part. It sounded rude.

"True, true. Let's hope he lasts longer than you other assistants." Augusta laughed while Hermione frowned. She was entirely uncomfortable with the whole situation.

"Listen, though, on to more serious matters," Augusta said, her tone uncharacteristically serious, causing Hermione to listen to her fully, knowing Augusta only spoke in this manor occasionally. "You are aware he has just literally left Azkaban this morning. I went with Sam to collect him. It was horrific Hermione." Augusta shuddered.

"Really, Granger, you can't have imagined it. I mean, obviously the Dementors are gone, but I swear, they've left something behind. It's awful. Anyway, he was brought out to us. And on Merlin's wand, I've never seen anyone look so haunted; unless you count those reported sightings of Sirius Black when he escaped ten years ago.

"He just stood there, in rags of what I presumed to be trousers, bare chested and so filthy he blended into the walls, I swear it. He was half bent over and could hardly walk. And you should see his wrists and ankles, completely scabbed over and covered with sores. So I told him basically that there was a chance he would be leaving Azkaban early, but I wanted you to be the one to explain it to him, in case I got it wrong.

"He was so weak; I had to have him Side-Along Apparate with Sam. Anyway, we brought him here and then Sam took him to the bathrooms and told him to wash down and leant him a spare suit he had. Then we took him to the canteen, and you should have seen it Granger, he ate like he hadn't seen food before. I thought he would be sick. How he kept all that down, I do not know. Then I asked Sam to keep an eye on him until I would send for you. I was quite surprised at how easy Sam took to him."

Hermione nodded, slightly dumfounded. She felt a twinge of guilt for being so off-handed with Draco earlier.

"But the reason why I called you in here was to discus money for him. As I'm sure you have realized that he has no place to stay, and no place to live."

Hermione hadn't realized.

"So I thought we could give him some funds you know, so that he could stay in the Leaky Cauldron and get some clothes and personal belongings and things."

"Yes, I think that sounds good." Hermione agreed.

"I've got 7 galleons and 15 sickles in here." Augusta said, pushing a small leather bound pouch to Hermione. Hermione took it from her and held it. "Give that to him, it's all I could get from petty cash. Tell him I'll have the bill for his stay at the Leaky Cauldron put on a tab, and I shall send an owl to Tom about the circumstances."

Hermione nodded again. More waves of guilt and pity washing over her.

"I think we all need to find the deepest compassion within ourselves. I picked him deliberately from the available prisoners. I watched the trail, you statement and when you testified...it was very moving. I signed the petition appeal after the ruling. It was all very unjust. I felt that Draco Malfoy dissevered a second chance, and deservers all the compassion we can muster for him."

Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to speak with the thickness now forming in her throat.

"Alright then Granger, you can go. Come see me Monday morning about the Barnabous vs. Skimmer case would you? And have a good weekend."

"Certainly." She was right. Her voice did crack. "And you too."

Hermione headed straight for the door, and didn't even say anything to Sam as she headed to her office. Malfoy was where she had left him, the pile of papers on his desk severely lower than what it had been when she left.

"Malfoy." She said quietly when she entered and stood in front of his desk.

"Draco." He corrected her. He didn't like hearing his last name. He didn't want reminding of what he had just spent the last 6 years paying penance for.

"Draco," Hermione repeated. "I've just met with Augusta, and she has suggested you have an expenses type fund." She placed the leather pouch on the desk and pushed it towards him. He reached out and took it from her, his fingers brushing hers lightly, and put it quickly in his pocket. She couldn't help but notice that as he reached forward, the shirt pulled up slightly and his wrist became exposed. It was like Augusta has said; scabbed and raw covered in sores. Hermione almost flinched.

"Augusta suggests you stay at the Leaky Cauldron, she said she's going to ask Tom to put your expenses there on a tab, which I assume the Ministry will pay, for the time being. So the money in there is for clothes and personal items and such."

She could feel the blush creeping into her cheeks as she said this, and his cheeks tinged slightly. How the mighty Slytherin was now so low.

"Thank you." He whispered, looking deep into her honey eyes.

As their eyes met for the first time Hermione understood what Augusta had meant about compassion. That was what Draco needed, that and a second chance. There and then Hermione vowed to do her best to make sure compassion would be what Draco got.

She smiled what she hoped was brightly. "Right, I'm just going to get my things, I'm so glad its Friday. I'll see you at 8 o'clock on Monday morning?"

"Sure." Draco nodded, giving her a small smile in return. At least that gave him the weekend to get clothes and other things.

Hermione was heading back to her office when Draco spoke. "By the way," she turned. "Why do you have goldfish everywhere?"

Hermione smiled and replied simply, "Because I like goldfish." Before going and getting her briefcase and papers.


Ivy Pseudonym

16th Sptember, 2010.