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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.

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When Draco got to work on Monday morning, he went into the library, but Hermione wasn’t there yet. He had brought her a cup of coffee. He left it on her desk, charmed to stay hot, with a little drawing of a happy cup of coffee surrounded by hearts.

Salazar, I can’t believe I just drew that.

Draco went back to his office to work on the Silentium.

When Hermione got into her office and saw the coffee and drawing, she chuckled and shook her head. She didn’t know this side of Draco, but she liked it.

She took a careful sip of the brew. He must have noticed how she took her coffee, because it was perfect.

Hermione had missed him on Sunday. She was surprised that she had become accustomed to having Draco in her house over that short period of time. They meshed well. His presence wasn’t overbearing and she didn’t feel like he was a guest she had to cater to. It was natural to have him in her home, sharing her day.

She absent-mindedly walked about the library, sipping her coffee. Unable to concentrate on any real work, she decided to do some paperwork she had been putting off. She let that boring task occupy her time until she was scheduled to meet with Ginny Potter.

Ginny was waiting when Hermione got to the café. Immediately, Ginny noticed that Hermione seemed perkier than usual.

Hermione put her bag down and hugged Ginny.

“It’s good to see you,” Hermione said to the youngest Weasley.

“You, too. You look great. Let’s order and then you can tell me why you look like the cat that ate the canary.”

Hermione laughed. Ginny never minced words.

They ordered food and drinks, then settled in for a chat.

“So?” Ginny asked.

“Well, I’m seeing someone. It’s kind of new, but I think there are possibilities.”

“Who? Is it that cute Auror I’ve seen eyeing you at Ministry events?”

“I don’t remember a cute Auror, but anyway, it’s not an Auror. Someone from my department, actually.” Hermione wasn’t ready to let Ginny in on Draco’s identity.

“Please tell me it’s not another Philbin, Hermione,” Ginny groaned.

“No, he’s nothing like Philbin. He’s very private, so I’ll introduce him once I know our relationship is slightly more serious.”

Ginny smiled at Hermione, “Okay, my friend, I’ll let you keep your silence if you answer my next question. How was the sex?”

Hermione gaped at Ginny. “Why do you think we’ve slept together?”

“Answer my question and I’ll quit pestering you,” Ginny said smugly.

“It was…amazing. Hot. Passionate.”

The waitress brought their food and the women dug into their entrees.

“When you first sleep with someone and there’s chemistry, it’s…” Ginny looked at her friend. “It’s like a drug. You can’t wait for your next hit.”

Hermione nodded. “That’s exactly how I feel. I can’t get enough. But it’s not just great shagging. He’s really interesting. We have a lot in common.”

“I’m so happy for you, Hermione. If anyone deserves a wonderful man, it’s you.”

Ginny and Harry had worried about Hermione over the years. Hermione spent a great deal of time alone. She declined most invitations from Ron and Harry, because she tended to feel like a fifth wheel. Ginny had attempted to set Hermione up on dates, but it was clear Hermione wasn’t interested. Between Ginny and Harry, they agreed that their friend was a bit different. They loved her, but she wasn’t the type of woman most men understood. Ginny hoped this man could make Hermione happy.

When they finished their meal, Ginny took Hermione to a new dress boutique.

“Hermione, look at this dress,” Ginny said, pointing to a crème one-shoulder gown.

Hermione examined the dress. “I love it, but when would I wear it?”

“You’ll find a reason to wear something this beautiful. Just try it on!”

Hermione took it to a dressing room and slipped on the gown. Ginny was right, the dress fit her beautifully.

Ginny opened the door and stared open-mouthed at Hermione. “It’s perfect, Hermione.”

Ginny paid for her items and waited for Hermione to pay for the dress.

They walked out of the boutique and embraced.

“Thank you for the lovely lunch, Mrs. Potter,” Hermione said to Ginny.

“Let me know if you want to unburden yourself,” Ginny said, wiggling her eyebrows. Hermione laughed.

“You’ll be the first person I’ll call,” Hermione promised.

Ginny went back to Grimmauld Place, pleased she could share some positive news with her husband.

The day dragged more than usual for Draco. He had figured out a small aspect of the Silentium, so at least the day wasn’t a wash. He had been reading through the books Hermione had pulled for him. There was so much to presence/absence magical theory he didn’t know. He had been using his intuition, magical, and mechanical senses to figure out how to fix objects, but now he might be able to use documented information to assist him in his work.

He entered the library to find Hermione at her desk, quill to parchment. Draco took a moment to study her. She wore a silky forest green blouse. Her hair curled down her back in ringlets. She wore simple gold hoops and a gold chain around her neck.

Hermione looked up to find Draco studying her.

“Draco! Have you been waiting long?”

“Yes. I’ve been waiting all day,” he said, smirking at her.

She stood up, adjusting her camel colored pencil skirt. When she stepped out from behind the desk, Draco admired her curvy legs in tan heels.

Hermione walked up to Draco and wrapped her arms around him.

“Thank you for the coffee this morning,” she said into his chest.

“You’re welcome.”

After spending years on the fringes of society, it was like a cold drink of water on a hot summer’s day to have Hermione’s affections. Draco hadn’t grown up with physical affection, so it was strange and wonderful to be around someone who didn’t shy away from showing her feelings through touch. He hugged her back, happy to have pleased her with his offering.

Draco helped her put on her coat and they walked out of the Ministry towards an Apparation point. Hermione told Draco about her day and asked about his progress with the Silentium. It was particularly chilly on this evening and Hermione stayed near Draco’s warm body. Once they were in Muggle London, he put his arm around her shoulders.

“Fall is my favorite time of year,” Hermione told him. “There’s something so beautiful about the leaves changing color before they fall off the trees.”

“I don’t have a favorite season, but I did like going back to school in September.”

“How did you spend your summers as a child?” Hermione asked.

“Pure-blood families like mine don’t spend a lot of time with their children. I had a tutor come every day and we would practice French and Latin. I also had an art teacher who came by twice a week.”

“Did you see anyone else?”

“Not really. If my parents were at the Manor, I would have dinner with them.”

The idea of Draco so isolated as a child made Hermione’s heart melancholy.

“What about you? How did you spend your summers?”

“My parents were of the opinion that a busy child was a happy child, so I went to day camps for different activities I was interested in science, which is like Potions, music, Socratic seminars in philosophy. It became harder when I was an older teen because I wanted to be around other magical people.”

“You must have felt like you were hiding,” Draco observed.

“I did to a certain extent. I’m comfortable in the Muggle world, but my life is rooted in magic. As soon as I knew I was a witch, I was relieved to know why I was always so different from other children.”

They reached the bistro and were seated at a small table.

“I haven’t had French food for ages,” Draco told Hermione.

“Do you like it?”

“I do.”

Again, Hermione had brought Draco to a sophisticated Muggle locale, which was chipping away at the preconceived notions he had about Muggles. He no longer looked down at half-blood and Muggle-born witches and wizards, but he had not had the opportunity to mingle with Muggles.

“Would you order for us?” Hermione asked Draco. “I’m not very picky. I’m sure what you pick will be delicious.”

“Okay. I’m going to order what I like, but I think you’ll like it, too. Shall we order wine?”

“Definitely.”

They started their meal with soupe au pistou*.

“Have you been to France?” Hermione asked Draco.

“My mother’s grandmother lived in the Provence region of France and she left her home to me when she died. I went last Christmas holiday to check on the property.”

Hermione had thought the Ministry took Draco’s inheritance as part of his family’s reparations, but perhaps he was left with some resources. She was thankful he hadn’t been left penniless after his parents went to Azkaban.

“You’ll have to tell me about the house. I’m fascinated by all things French.”

“Granger, have you not been to France?”

“I haven’t.” She gave him a little shrug.

Draco would rectify that soon.

The waitress brought out a large plate of bourride* after she cleared their bowls. The fragrant fish was steaming and the vegetables looked tender.

Hermione took a bite of her fish and chewed thoughtfully. “It’s delicious.”

Draco lowered his voice, “I didn’t know Muggles lived so well. Every place you’ve taken me has been very, um, worldly.”

“I think if you spent some time in the Muggle world, you would be very comfortable, Draco. The wizarding world is amazing, but the Muggle world is just as complex.”

Hermione was delighted that Draco could appreciate the Muggle world he had so far encountered. She hoped that eventually he would see Muggles as equal to magical people. His beliefs had clearly changed over the years, but he hadn’t had the opportunity to engage in Muggle culture until now.

Draco ordered crème brûlée for their dessert.

“I’ve tried to make crème brûlée at home, but I can never quite get the custard to set,” Draco admitted to Hermione.

“It’s one of my favorite desserts. I’m glad you chose it, but I’ve liked everything you picked.”

When the dessert came, Hermione let Draco have the majority of the creamy, sweet custard. She could tell he was savoring it. When he got to the last bit, he scooped it onto his spoon and lifted it to her lips. She closed her eyes as she took the spoon into her mouth, relishing the romance of having her lover feed her.

Draco watched her, feeling himself become aroused.

The server brought their check and Hermione went to her purse to find her wallet.

“I’ve got it,” he said. He put a shiny black credit card out for the server to take.

“Where did you get a credit card?”

Draco murmured, “When I got pounds, the goblin I spoke with explained that if I planned on paying for things in the Muggle world, it would be more convenient to use a card, so I ordered one.”

“I didn’t know Gringotts had a credit card. I’ll have to get one. It would be much easier than exchanging my money all the time.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t tell you about it,” Draco said.

“Well, I’m not exactly a favorite there.”

“Hermione, are you telling me that the rumors that you broke in are true?” Draco was flabbergasted.

“Between us, they are true, but I could never admit it. The goblins are a terrible enemy.” She took in Draco’s shocked face and giggled.

He shook his head. “Even You-Know-Who avoided Gringotts. I just can’t believe the three of you were able to get past the spells and enchantments on the building.”

Draco signed the bill and they left the restaurant.

“It’s cold in the city,” Hermione said, burrowing into her coat.

“Let’s go back to my place,” Draco suggested.

“That sounds good. We can Apparate from one of these alleys.”

Draco put his arm around her waist and Apparated them to the sandy beach, but he was distracted and they landed a few feet from the water.

Hermione turned to look at the full moon. “The beach is mesmerizing at night,” she said, looking at the waves and the moon-illuminated sand.

Draco pulled her close and kissed her. She clasped her hands behind his neck, gently fingering the silky strands at the back of his head. All of a sudden, a wave soaked them with frigid ocean water.

Hermione shrieked and clung to Draco. They looked at each other and burst into peals of laughter.

“Merlin, Draco!”

“I am so sorry, Granger! Let’s get you inside.”

Hermione’s teeth were chattering as they walked the short distance to his porch. Draco let them into the cottage and they began to take off their coats, shoes and sodden clothes.

“Let me dry you off,” Draco said, pointing his wand at Hermione. She felt his magic dry her, but she was still chilled. Draco dried himself off, then led her to the couch in front of the fireplace.

Draco magically lit a fire and pulled Hermione onto his lap. He wrapped a blanket around the two of them.

“I’m warming up a bit,” she said.

“That wasn’t how I had thought the evening would end,” Draco chuckled.

“I like this,” Hermione said, cuddling into his body.

Draco held her, but realized after a few minutes that Hermione had fallen asleep.

“Let’s get you into bed, love,” he whispered, holding her close and carrying her up the stairs to his bed.

He got her into the bed and covered her with the comforter and an extra blanket. He cast a mild warming charm on the bedding. Draco wasn’t tired, but the idea of spooning with Hermione’s warm, pliant body was irresistible to him. He crawled under the covers next to her, his arm circling her waist. In her sleep, she snuggled closer to his body.

Draco thought about this odd turn of events with the woman lying beside him. They worked in the same department, but he hadn’t encountered her until the day he found her reaching for a book in Flourish & Blotts. She was the first person he had encountered in years that hadn’t treated him like a liability.

And if anyone deserved her scorn, it was Draco. He had been hateful to her as a child. She had the type of character that Draco had rarely encountered. He understood that she didn’t hold his ignorance against him. He knew enough about human nature to understand that she wasn’t perfect, but to him, she was pretty close. He wanted them to exist in the bubble they had created, without interference.

Contentment and warmth lulled Draco into sleep.

A.N.- Victoria, thank you for the lovely comment! sheedy, thank you for following the story and commenting. You all make my day. :)

Soupe au pistou is bean soup served with fine-chopped basil, garlic and Parmesan. Bourride is white fish stewed with vegetables and wine, garnished with aioli.
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Three Years Have Passed Since The War Ended