Author's note: Hello all. This is my first Harry Potter Fan Fic. I think it works with the DH Epilogue for the most part (some dates might be questionable). I'm planning for it to run about 20,000 words, and there is some mature content, so please, if you are too young to read it (or if you just don't like Hermione and Draco having sex) please find something else to read.

Obviously, I am not the lovely and talented Ms. Rowling and I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters…I just get to play with them in my spare time.

Heart of a Phoenix

Chapter One:

Draco:

Draco walked into the office as his boss, Justin Finch-Finchley shuffled papers. He'd been at work for 36 hours straight and he wanted a hot shower, sleep, and some time with his son, in that order. He had twelve hours until Astoria dropped Scorp off…it was the last weekend before he left for Hogwarts.

"We need you to make the presentation to the Phoenix Foundation." Potter seemed to attract gold the way a necktie attracted staining liquids. Draco had the impression that it mostly embarrassed him that rich old witches kept leaving him mounds of gold when they died…so a few years back he'd opened a charity; the Phoenix Foundation. St. Mungos applied for grants from it on a fairly regular basis. Hospitals never ran in the black, and the Ministry was still reeling from being controlled by Death Eaters.

Draco rolled his eyes. He was very good at his job, why couldn't people just let him do it?

"I can't imagine that anyone would be a worse choice. Do you even remember how I was at Hogwarts? Potter and I came to a sort of truce after the war and all, but I doubt he'd be anxious to throw a load of gallons at a project just because I recommend it."

Justin snorted. He was alright, mostly, but a little too aware of his position of head of the department. Better him than me. Draco wouldn't take any amount of money to deal with the disparate and volatile personalities that were drawn to their particular field of expertise… it took an odd sort of person to spend their time breaking curses.

Justin looked up at him for the first time. "Jeez Draco, you look like hell."

It was just another day in paradise. He tried to keep a low profile at the hospital, but two hours ago one of the patents had recognized him. Her husband had thrown a fit and had to be sedated before Draco had been able to break the curse that was on his wife. Before he'd been sedated, he'd laid dozens of charges at Draco's feet…including a few that the Dark Lord would have blushed at. He didn't even HAVE a sister for Merlin's sake.

The new orderly had gaped when they took the husband out to sleep off the sedation spell, but there were two older ones who would fill the new guy in. Draco still got the occasional Howler from nutters, but he'd worked hard for nearly twenty years to restore the family name to something that his son could be proud to bear.

Justin cleared his throat. "I heard about you last case."

Draco shrugged. "It happens."

Justin snorted "Only to a select few."

Draco grinned. They weren't mates exactly, he didn't have many mates…but he didn't mind his boss. "It was a crappy day. That's exactly why I'm going home to shower and grab a few hours sleep…then spend the weekend with my son."

Justin nodded. "This can wait until next week, but it has to be you. You'll have a couple of weeks to put it together. All of the improvements we need new funding for are your ideas. The Ministry won't fund us, but the Phoenix foundation can. This could save lives, and I know how you are Draco…you wouldn't trust any of us to do this for you anyway." He grinned and Draco nodded, too tired to argue. "Get some rest. This shouldn't be a big deal. Just present your ideas to the head of the organization, and then let her decide."

Draco felt his brows pull together. "Her? I thought Potter ran the charity?"

Justin shrugged. "I think he just funds it, mostly. Hermione Granger-Weasley runs it."

Draco was left temporally speechless.

He let the shower heat up as he undressed. He wasn't the prat he'd been in school. He knew money wasn't everything. It would be very nice to be in a position to simply throw his own money at the problem, but that wasn't an option any more. Most of his family fortune had been wiped out paying fines for his father's crimes. There was still some money there, plenty to see to his mother and father as they aged, and there were lands and relics…but not enough ready cash to make a donation that would make a difference in the curse-breaker's unit. Too many curses came in, and they didn't have the means or the ability to really research them. They needed a whole new way of diagnosing the causes, but he worked all the hours that God put in the day just trying to save lives.

So he was going to have to ask Potter and Granger for help. He shrugged his pale shoulders. It pricked his pride a little…he hadn't had much to do with them…with anyone outside of work actually, in years.

His mind drifted back to his last case of the day…the woman who was sleeping in the hospital…he'd just barely saved her. He couldn't keep this up forever. And even when he was working like a dog, sometimes he missed things…because he was tired, because the curse was outside his specialty…because he let his mind wander for a moment. Healers weren't Gods. They had moments when they were thinking about lunch too…but when a healer did it people could die. There had to be a spell that could help do this impossible job. And he'd do whatever he had to do to find it…to have some sort of safety net between his work and other people's lives.

He let the hot spray wash away everything that was not important…things like pride, and vanity. He would love to be able to fix these problems all on his own, but he wouldn't let innocent people pay the price. There was a better way. Once they found it, medical curse-breaking would be easy.

He grinned as he washed his hair. Maybe once he found it, he could set up a nice family practice where he kept normal hours. Some place where Scorpius would be tempted to come for his summer breaks, so that when he hit fifteen next year, he could spend more time with him.

Draco pulled on an old pair of scrubs and fell into bed, pleased with his plan.

Hermione:

She wasn't sure why she came into work today at all, except that work was just something one did every day. Besides, with Rose and Hugo away at Hogwarts, there was very little incentive to stay home and relive the day Ron had died.

Well, except the fact that she couldn't help but remember.

Ronald Weasley! You can't go to work like that!" He'd grinned as he stuffed a whole piece of toast in his mouth and buttoned his polo shirt.

"That's one of the joys of NOT working for the Ministry anymore 'Mione. I don't have to wear a tie if I don't wanna. Besides, I'm just meeting with Seamus and Lee this afternoon…running tests on new products and all that. And you know how Seamus is. If you wear good clothes around him, they'd better be fireproof."

Ron had survived the war, five years as an auror, and countless attempts on his life because of his friendship with Harry…and he died in a stupid work-related accident because some summer intern had turned off an alarm because the noise 'bothered' him.

Ron was only twenty-five. Hermione had thrown herself into helping George with the business and raising Rose and Hugo. She had help of course…her parents, the entire Weasley family, and Harry and Ginny.

At 34, she was well off on a personal level, and she spent her days organizing funds for excellent causes…but she was missing something. She rarely got to do any of her own research anymore, relying on her very capable secretaries more than she liked. She missed the feel of parchment in her hands.

That wasn't all she missed. There would always be a hole in her heart where Ron used to be…but she had grieved for him, and it wasn't bleeding anymore…it felt like an old scar…never exactly right, but it didn't hurt. She sighed and put the papers she was pretending to read down. The Weasleys were wonderful, and they kept her extremely busy…but they were comfortable with the notion of Hermione being a widow, and she wasn't sure that they (Molly especially) wouldn't see dating as a betrayal…come to think of it…Hermione couldn't help but see it as a betrayal. She still wore the simple wedding band he'd given her…it never left her finger.

She had to get it together. She tried to focus on the proposal from St. Mungo's. They wanted to do some research into new methods of diagnosing curses so that the curse breakers wouldn't have to be quite so elite. Whoever put the proposal together had added enough hard facts (curses coming in vs. available curse breakers vs. time) so that it was very clear that the hospital was going to have to do something about the case to curse breaker ratio, and quickly.

Hermione quickly added up the rest of the year's budget and looked over the remaining projects. They wouldn't be able to work the funds in until after the first of the year. She sat for a moment, thoughtfully playing with her quill. This was the slow season for projects. Everything was under control, and she wouldn't have the children home from Hogwarts until Christmas. Why not take on some of the research herself? This was a brilliant project, obviously headed by someone who knew their curses. She was the best researcher of the age and she hadn't even been in a library in a bloody month because she was always too busy with bits and bobs at the office. She called in her secretary. Things were about to change a bit around here.

Draco:

The office was comfortable rather than grand. Not surprising since Granger had been in Gryffindor. Her eyes widened a little when she saw him walk in, but she kept her face courteous, which was probably more than he deserved. The night he'd witnessed his damn Aunt carving 'mudblood' into her arm still rated among the worst nights of his life…and he'd had plenty of other nights when he'd endured the Cruciatus curse at the hands of others. He would have cheered when Molly Weasley killed the psychotic bitch if he'd been alone.

"Draco." Her voice was just slightly breathy…surprised, but not hostile. That made a nice change. "I didn't know you worked at St Mungo's."

He nodded pleasantly. "I had no idea you were working here until my supervisor mentioned it." He shrugged and looked around the room. "I haven't been in touch with much of anyone since the war ended. I don't even take the Daily Prophet anymore."

Hermione sighed. "I don't read it as often as I should…just too much to do…"

Draco nodded. This was getting too close to his own issues with using work to avoid everything else. "I was sorry to hear about Weasley." To his chagrin, he eyes filled with tears. Oh bloody hell.

Hermione:

Hermione felt that old familiar pain when someone mentioned Ron.

"Thank you." She found herself blinking back tears. "I appreciated the flowers you sent to the funeral." They'd had hundreds of arrangements (enough so that she was sick of the smell of flowers for years afterward) and she had no idea which of them had been his…but she had noticed his name when she'd sat down to write the thank you notes after the funeral. It was oddly comforting that someone who had actively disliked Ron when they were teens had come far enough to send flowers and a lovely note to his funeral.

The tear started running down her face again and she pulled out a package of tissue from the desk.

Draco was offering her his handkerchief, but she blotted her face with the tissue and waved it away. "No, I'm so sorry. I'm not usually like this anymore…it's just today is the anniversary…" She babbled a little, feeling that she owed him an explanation.

Draco's eyes closed for a moment.

"I'm sorry Hermione. I didn't mean to bring it up; it's just the first time we've met in person since…" He seemed to realize that it wasn't helping. "How are Rose and Hugo doing?"

Draco:

Of course it was the anniversary. He should have remembered that. He'd been there when they brought the bodies in. He'd just passed the apprentice stage, but he'd still volunteered to wheel Weasley down to the morgue. When word got out that one of the golden trio was dead…well people were curious, and even though he'd never been friendly with the Weasel King (in fact, even his relationship with Potter was better, the animosity between him and Weasley had never budged, even after the war) he'd felt like he owed it to him, and to his wife, to make sure he was treated with the proper respect.

It had been Draco's Patronus that had alerted Potter, while the hospital was still trying to reach Granger…Hermione, Weasley's wife. He hoped that Potter had been able to be the one to break it to her…but he'd never had the nerve to ask.

So he asked the first thing he could think of to change the subject. Kids…everyone like talking about their kids. Granger was a good mother, he'd heard a lot about her from his son over the years.

Scorpius didn't mention Rose as much anymore, but the two of them seemed to get on better than he and Granger had at least.

She patted her face again and smiled a little. "The kids are doing great. Rose is stressing a little about her Owls, but George keeps sending her practical jokes…" She shook her head. "I would have killed him by now if it were me, but she seems amused by them. Hugo on the other hand doesn't think about much other than Quidditch…between Harry, Ginny, and George, I can't imagine why…"

Draco laughed. "Boys will be boys. Be glad he's still in the Quidditch phase…after that comes the 'girls' phase quickly followed by the 'I don't talk to my parents' phase."

She chuckled. "How is Scorpius doing?"

Draco shrugged. "Top grades in his class, plays chaser on the Slytherin team, and he's joined DA…though I think there might be a girl involved in that decision. He's a good kid, but he's too serious."

Hermione sighed and threw the tissue away.

"Well, I think you're right about the curse breakers needing an easier way to do their job." She picked up the sheaf of paper. "Do you have any idea why the incidents of curses have gone up so much?"

He nodded. "I have a theory. I think that before the war most people used some pretty standard curses…they didn't take the time to make up their own. Since the war ended, a lot of witches and wizards have made up these specialized curses and some of them are people who didn't need to be making up their own spells in the first place. Those are some of the worst ones, stuff that the accidental magic people can't handle and the originator of the curse can't give us much information on exactly what they did… " He shook his head when he thought about some of those cases…

"But there are also a lot of highly qualified people who are doing it, and their curses work." He shrugged. "Voldemort's dead, most of the Death Eaters are in Azkaban…but people haven't forgotten. I think that's where a lot of these secret curses come from. People want to have a weapon to use in case there's ever another war, and they certainly don't trust the Ministry to protect them anymore…not after half of them were rounded up and had their wands taken."

She was smiling.

He realized that even with her eyes still a little red from crying, that Hermione was still a lovely woman. He was startled that he noticed at all. After a short stint of skirt chasing before he apprenticed as a healer, he'd settled down with Astoria. He'd tried a few relationships after the divorce…he'd even tried a few one night stands…but he didn't want to feel, and so he'd avoided it for…had it really been years since he'd noticed a beautiful woman? Since he'd admired someone's creamy skin, or hair? He'd always appreciated beauty before…but he'd driven himself nearly into the ground with work for the past three years especially…after Astoria re-married.

He wasn't sure she'd noticed his stare, but he was sure she noticed the time lapse.

The funny thing was that she cleared her throat and looked down…like maybe Miss Granger had been thinking something she shouldn't have.

He considered this…and decided he like the idea more than he should. Easy. He told himself. "She was probably just thinking that you are little less of a prat now…if you are lucky.

Hermione cleared her throat and conjured herself a glass of water.

"The foundation can help fund the project, but not until after the first of the year. I assume you'll want to head it."

Draco nodded. He was a bit disappointed actually; he was hoping to have something done by the end of the year. The idea of leaving St. Mungo's for someplace quiet where everything wasn't life and death was taking root. He wanted nothing more than to live in some small community, treat sore throats and colds, and continue his research work on the side.

Granger caught his eye. "The foundation can't fund the work until after the first of the year, but I have freed up my schedule to assist in the research."

His eyes widened. She gave him a sheepish grin. "It's been too long since I got to really get my hands dirty, and this is exactly the kind of research I'm most qualified to do. So if you don't mind my help, you and I can work together between now and the Christmas break. If nothing else, we'll have a firm groundwork ready once we have the funds to assemble a team of researchers."

Draco could feel the tension ebbing. This was going to work. "When do we start?"