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Three Years Have Passed Since The War Ended	By : cpetnm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 16830 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Draco Malfoy tinkered with a small metal object on his desk in the Department of Mysteries. He knew the object had once been able to extinguish sound in an area about the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, but it was no longer able to do so. He sighed with a mix of frustration and boredom.

Since the war ended three years ago, Draco had narrowly escaped time in Azkaban, though he did not go without punishment. The entirety of the Malfoy estate had been seized by the Ministry. They allowed him to keep his Black inheritance, for which he was grateful. His parents were both serving time in Azkaban for their part in the war.

Part of Draco’s punishment was working to repair Dark and dangerous magical objects. Like Sisyphus’ constant uphill trek, Draco had a never-ending supply of broken magical objects to fix. He did have excellent instincts for fixing these broken objects.

At least Draco could count on solitude in his tiny office in the Department of Mysteries. With the Dark Mark on his arm and his trademark platinum hair, Draco wasn’t easily welcomed by most of society. If he was lucky, people ignored him. When he did venture into Diagon Alley, he could count on rude comments and on some occasions, violence.

Draco accepted his isolation and loneliness as part of his punishment.


Hermione touched up her lipstick and repinned some hair that had escaped her loose chignon. She didn’t see many people during her day working as the librarian in the Department of Mysteries Dark Arts Library. The contents of her library were known to very few people and those that did know of it didn’t often have use for the knowledge housed in those grim tomes.

After the war, she was offered the job because of her knowledge of Voldemort’s horcruxes and her ability to understand the depth of the written word. Truthfully, Hermione found her job dreary and a bit mundane.

Harry and Ron both accepted offers to play professional Quidditch. Ron continued to play for the Chudley Cannons, but Harry found that he was a better coach than a player. Ron had met and married a beautiful version of his mother. Her name was Cassandra and Hermione thought they were well matched. Harry and Ginny had married after Ginny graduated from Hogwarts. Harry’s job was time-consuming and intense, so Ginny took care of the household duties. Harry needed Ginny’s support and Ginny was happy to provide it. She was thankful Ron and Harry had rich, full lives with loving partners.

Coupling up had seemed so easy for the boys. She envied their strong relationships. The only men she seemed to meet were interested in her celebrity. Hermione could admit she was an unusual person, but she could offer the right man passion, conversation, and curiosity. It appeared to her there weren’t many men who could appreciate what she brought to the table.

Her parents had a loving and equitable relationship. She missed them. They had decided to stay in Australia after she restored their memories. They never outright told her, but she knew they harbored some fear of her magical powers. She had performed an invasive spell on them and she knew they might never truly trust her again. But she would do it again if she had to, to keep them safe.

Hermione looked at the mirror one last time. She smoothed out her formfitting dress and headed to Flourish & Blotts.

The cool fall air felt good to Draco after spending the day in his stuffy office. He headed to Flourish & Blotts to pick up a book he had ordered a few weeks before. Draco spent a good deal of his free time reading. He enjoyed nonfiction, but fiction was his escape.

Draco wandered through the quiet bookstore, enjoying the smell of new books. He was passing by the Arithmancy section, when he noticed Hermione Granger straining to reach a book. He walked over and pulled it off the shelf for her. When he looked at her face, he expected disgust or disregard, but she smiled at him pleasantly.

“Thanks, Malfoy,” she said, taking the book from him. She pointed to the book in his hand. “Oh, you ordered the new Cornell book! I’ve had it on my reading list for a while now.”

The extent of Draco’s conversation skills of late consisted of having cashiers take his money at the till.

“Uh, yeah, I, um enjoyed his other mystery series,” Draco stammered out.

“I liked his stand alone Auror suspense novel. You’ll have to tell me what you think of the new book,” she said, sincere interest in her face.

“You can borrow it when I finish it,” he blurted out.

“I’d like that. Are you doing anything right now? I was planning on having a cup of coffee before I head home.” Hermione knew she was taking a chance, but she was curious about this slightly awkward, approachable Malfoy.

He looked at her for a second before shaking his head. “I don’t have plans tonight.”

“Let me pay for my book and we can go,” she said, walking towards the till.

Draco followed slightly behind her. He had always had a thing for Granger. During school, she was forbidden fruit for him, but he knew it was more than that. She had an enthusiasm for her studies, her friends and her beliefs that was the antithesis of how he was taught to comport himself. She had developed into a beautiful woman, with chic, upswept hair, creamy skin and a soft, voluptuous figure. Her eyes sparkled when she was excited, which Draco found endearing.

They exited the bookstore and headed towards a Diagon Alley coffee and tea shop. People stopped and stared and them, whispering to each other. Hermione kept overhearing “Death Eater” in their murmurings. She could see Draco trying to ignore them, but it was hard to do so. They were so clearly talking about the two of them.

“Do you fancy going into Muggle London for coffee?” she asked Draco. “I know a great place not too far from the Leaky.”

“That’s fine,” Draco said. In truth, he hadn’t ventured into Muggle London, but figured he was in good hands with a Muggle-born as his guide.

As they walked through the Leaky Cauldron to enter Muggle London, Draco started to regret his decision to accompany Granger for coffee. The street was full of Muggles walking quickly and cars filled the streets. He was overwhelmed and did his best to stay close to Hermione, but he was constantly jostled by pedestrians hurrying to their destinations. Hermione grasped his hand in her warm hand, leading him through the crowd. He relished the contact with her, his fingers twining with hers.

Hermione knew Draco was apprehensive about being in such a foreign environment, so she pointed out little things to him on their walk to the coffee shop. He knew she was trying to distract him and he appreciated the gesture. When they reached the café, the smell of roasted coffee permeating the building, Hermione let go of his hand. Immediately, Draco missed the contact.

“Do you like chocolate? The mocha latte is delicious,” she said to him.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

Hermione ordered their drinks and paid the barista.

“Thank you,” Draco said. “I’ll have to get it next time.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she agreed, taking her drink to a table.

Draco sat across from her at the small table, his frothy drink steaming. He took a sip of the rich concoction.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s very good,” he said, taking another drink.

“I know Muggle London can be a bit overwhelming, but I find the wizarding world to be oppressive sometimes. Like the public has this characterization of you and you can’t ever deviate from that. I don’t really go into Diagon Alley unless I have a specific reason for being there.”

“It’s not so bad here, I’m just not used to it. I don’t get out much,” he admitted.

“I don’t either, but I do like the anonymity of London. Are you still in the Dark Objects Unit?”

“Yeah, almost three years now,” he said.

“I’m surprised you’ve never come into my library for information.”

“I didn’t consider that your library might be able to help me. I’ve been able to fix everything that’s come my way.”

“I can pull some books for you, if you’d like.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon for them,” he said.

“I can think of a few you might find interesting, at the very least. What do you do for fun, besides read mysteries?” she teased him.

He gave her a grin. “I troll bookstores for women and convince them to buy me coffee.”

“Ohhh, I see I’ve been played by the smooth Draco Malfoy,” she laughed.

“You fell right into my trap,” he nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

She looked at her watch. “I’m sorry Draco, but I’ve got to get going to my second job.”

He gave her a puzzled look. “Why do you work a second job?”

“I make more money as an exotic dancer than a librarian, so…”

She started to grab her purse as if she was leaving.

He stared at her, his mouth slightly ajar. Hermione burst into giggles.

“Funny. Very funny,” he said, grinning at her mirth. But I’d pay to watch her dance, he thought to himself.

Hermione felt giddy joking with Draco. They noticed the barista start to close up the café.

“It’s later than I thought,” Hermione observed. She wasn’t ready to end her time with Draco.

They stood up and began to head towards the door. They walked back towards the Leaky Cauldron. Draco was slightly disappointed Hermione didn’t hold his hand, but it wasn’t as busy at it was when they had walked through the crowded streets earlier.

“Do you want to have dinner with me? I was planning on making pasta tonight.”

“I’d love to,” she said, smiling.


Hermione led him to an alley and he Apparated them to his home. It was a small cottage on the beach. Draco used his wand to light the porch light, illuminating the wood shingles and white trim. He opened the door, leading her into the living room.

Hermione appreciated the Spartan aesthetic. She could tell Draco had taken care in picking out his things. The house was clean and stacks of books added warmth and a personal touch to the room.

Draco took her coat and purse, hanging them in a closet near the stairs.

“If you’d like to freshen up, the loo is upstairs, the first door on the right,” he said to her. “I’m going to start dinner.”

“Thanks, Malfoy,” she said, making her way up the stairs.

Draco couldn’t believe he’d asked her to dinner and she’d said yes. There was a light-heartedness about her that made him feel young and liked. The burden of his family name and his actions had weighed on him for so long, he had forgotten what it was like to have a normal, fun conversation with someone he could possibly regard as a friend.

Draco started the water for the pasta then used his wand to chop zucchini, tomatoes, mushrooms and onion. He sautéed the vegetables with a liberal amount of butter and olive oil. Hermione sat at his kitchen table while he worked.

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked.

“Will you open the Chidaine Sauvignon?”

Hermione found the wine and two wine glasses. She opened the bottle using a quick opening spell, similar to Alohomora. As she was setting the glasses down on the table, Draco began plating their food.

Hermione took a quick swig of her wine, feeling a bit of nerves. She liked Malfoy. He made her laugh and she found him attractive. He had grown into his features and was a striking man. He wore his hair in a traditional side parted style. His grey eyes were fringed by dark lashes. His expressive brows were a few shades darker than his trademark platinum hair. His nose gave him a mischievous look while his smirking smile showcased even, white teeth. His body was still streamlined, but he was more solid than he had been as a teen. His shoulders were broader, his chest wider. He wasn’t as tall as Ron, but he was taller than Harry.

He handed her a fork and napkin, then set her plate in front of her.

She took a bite of her food. “Mmm. Good.”

“Thanks. How’s the wine?”

“I like it. Where did you learn to cook?” she asked him.

“Cookbooks and trial and error. You should have seen my first roasted chicken. It looked like a thestral carcass.”

“Yuck, Malfoy!”

He laughed at the expression on her face.

“How do you like your job?” he asked.

“Truth?” she said. He nodded.

“I think I’ve been hiding there the past few years. I can go days without anyone coming into the library. It’s dull.”

Draco could understand her point of view. She was a brilliant witch. Without her, the Light wouldn’t have been able to defeat Voldemort.

“What do you do to relieve the boredom?” he wondered.

“I read. I practice yoga. I garden. Over the past year, I’ve started an art collection. I research up and coming artists and save to buy something from their showings.” She took another bite of her pasta, enjoying a succulent butter covered mushroom.

“What about your job?” she asked.

“The work is very detailed, slow and requires all my patience. It’s not what I envisioned myself doing, but I’m good at it.” He looked at her, pouring more wine for himself. He motioned to her glass.

“Please,” she said. “After the war, I thought it would be best to do something calm and predictable. But, I feel like I’m ready to start challenging myself.”

He smiled at her, “You deserve to live the life you want.” He stood and offered her his hand. “Do you want to join me on the porch? It’s a pleasant way to end the day. Bring your wine.”

Hermione took his outstretched hand, feeling a sense of excitement at the contact he initiated. He led her to the porch, where they sat on a hanging swing, the sound of the tide a relaxing ebb and flow. The salty smell of the ocean water tickled her nose.

“I like your house,” she told Malfoy. “It’s not fussy, but still personal.”

“I spend a lot of time here. You’re the first person to visit,” he added.

“I’m honored,” she said, squeezing his hand. She looked at their laced fingers and noticed the time.

“It’s late. I should go or I’m going to be a wreck tomorrow. Can I help you clean up?” she asked.

“No, I can clean up. Let me get your things.”

Draco went into the house and got her coat and bag. He helped her into her coat.

“Maybe now that we know each other better, you’ll visit me in the library,” she said to him.

“I promise I will,” he said, wishing he had some reason for her to stay.

“I’ll walk you past the wards, then you can Apparate home,” he said, leading her down the sandy path.

Once they got past the wards, Draco stopped walking. Hermione hugged him and whispered a “thank you” into his ear. She stepped back, smiling at him and Disapparated with a quiet pop.

For the first time in a long time, Draco was genuinely happy.
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Three Years Have Passed Since The War Ended