Second Chances

Disclaimer: I don\'t own any of it.


Draco sat at his desk, rapping his fingers on the surface irritably. He threw his quill down and scowled at it. He had been unable to concentrate properly all week, haunted by thoughts of Granger and her ridiculous hair. Granger and the curves she flaunted beneath that ridiculous skimpy sundress. Granger and her tiny pink toenails peeking from her ridiculous little sandals. In fact, everything about her was ridiculous, making it all the more ludicrous that he couldn’t put her out of his mind. With a sigh of exasperation he picked up the quill and resigned himself to what had to be done.

He pulled out a sheet of stationery parchment and pondered the appropriate opening. Deciding that he didn’t want to risk crossing any lines with the young woman who was just as likely to incinerate his missive as to read it, he decided a formal tone was best. ‘Dear Ms. Granger’ he began, penning a short letter asking to meet for tea at her convenience. He hoped that the invitation was suitably neutral to set her at ease and sealed the scroll. He summoned the main house elf Givvy and handed him the scroll.

“Have my personal owl deliver this as soon as possible,” Draco instructed him, “and be sure he understands to wait for a response.”

The moment the elf was out of sight, Draco was overcome by nerves. Suddenly the decision to owl Hermione seemed very rash indeed. The chances were quite slim that she would even consider an invitation from her childhood bully. The chances were much better, unfortunately, that she would suspect him of plotting some sort of evil plan, or worse, have a good laugh at his impulsive invitation. The thought of her laughing over his invitation with Potty and the Weasel was enough to turn his stomach. He bellowed for assistance, determined to halt the proceedings. The little elf appeared immediately.

“Is it gone yet? Don\'t send the owl!” he shouted in a panic.

Givvy’s eyes went wide but he spoke clearly. “The owl is gone Master Draco. Givvy cannot stop it Master Draco.”

After cursing viciously and flying into an appropropriately terrifying rage, Draco gave a tortured whimper and slunk into his bedroom, throwing himself onto his enormous bed and burying his face in the pile of pillows. He resigned himself to waiting for her response, fearing the worst.

He thought of the last few years. There had been lots of women, lots of money, but also loads of guilt and precious few friends. For some reason, it was very important to him to make amends with the girl that he had made miserable for years; the girl that had grown up to become distinctly beautiful and had always possessed one of the keenest intellects he had ever encountered. He consoled himself with the thought that her personality was most likely insufferable as ever, though if he was honest with himself, her fierce loyalty and devotion to her friends and passions was one of her most attractive characteristics. The older Draco grew, the more he realized how misguided his priorities had been when he was younger.

Ever since seeing her at Flourish and Blott’s, he realized how much he had overlooked when he met her for the first time all those years ago. The truth was, he was lonely, and seeing her made him realize how much he was missing out on by limiting his associations to beautiful but vacant women, especially when there were women like Hermione Granger around.

* * * * *

Hermione looked up from the book she was reading when she heard a tapping at her window, rising from her bed to open the window. A large eagle owl flew in bearing a scroll which she gently removed and unfurled. Her eyes widened as she read the letter. She stared at it in silent shock for several minutes before coming to a decision.

Finally reaching for a quill, she hastily scrawled out a reply on the back and retied the parchment to the owl’s leg after giving him a treat and gently stroking his head. “Thank you,” she murmured softly as it flew to the window and out into the night.

* * * * *

Two days later Hermione walked into a hotel tearoom near her flat to find Draco already seated at a table in the corner. He stood as she approached, the familiar cool grey eyes unreadable as he greeted her and they sat. The table was covered with tea service and pastries to which Draco gestured for her to help herself. They sat together in awkward silence, contemplating each other, for a few moments before Draco spoke.

“Nice place.”

“I’ve always thought it was lovely, and it is actually very close to my flat.”

“Do you have a place to yourself then?” Draco inquired, in a manner that he hoped was subtle, searching for information as to her romantic attachments.

“I live alone.” She replied slowly. He was wondering if he should press the issue when she went on. “Ron, Harry, and I shared for a couple years but things became… awkward and we decided it was for the best not to live together anymore.”

Draco tried to quell the flare of jealousy he felt as she mentioned the two men, certain that she had been romantically involved with at least one of them at some point. Another silenced followed and Hermione shifted in her seat, looking decidedly uncomfortable, before he decided to move the subject to more neutral territory. “So what have you been doing for the last few years?”

“I work as a consultant for Gringott’s. I’d always thought that I’d be doing something important, something for a cause, but when the war ended, all I wanted was a little stability. Gringott’s made me an attractive offer and I enjoy the work, so...” She trailed off, shrugging. After a slight pause, she continued, “Not to be rude, but was there any particular reason that you wanted to meet with me?”

She had butterflies in her stomach as she waited for a response. Truthfully, Malfoy’s face had been drifting through her mind since she had seen him, and she’d thought of him every time she’d picked up the book he’d recommended to her. She hadn’t spent a lot of time analyzing it as she’d assumed that it would be another few years before she ran into him again, so she had been shocked to receive his invitation.

He winced slightly at her guarded tone and pointed question. \"Prefacing an impolite question with a \'not to be rude\' hardly mitigates bad etiquette, Granger,\" he snapped.

Her eyes flashed with anger and she snatched her handbag from the table, pushing her chair back. An increasing sense of frustration built as he realized how wrong the conversation had gone.

\"Wait.\" His voice was low, and his hand shot out, pulling her back firmly. She shot him a scathing look but said nothing, settling back into the chair for the moment.

“There are many things that I regret about my younger years,” he began, studiously avoiding her eyes, “not the least of which is my behavior where you were concerned.” At this he paused and glanced up to gauge her reaction, finding her eyes very skeptical. “I took for granted many things when I was growing up. It wasn’t until I witnessed the manifestation of that set of beliefs that I fully understood what I was buying into. I…”

He seemed to be struggling for words, and Hermione softened slightly, moved to consider that he may possibly be sincere in his words. She waited, knowing it was important for him to finish.

“The way I treated you was unforgivable. There are some things I will never regret, and I don’t mean to imply that I stand before you a totally changed man. But my assumptions about you were inaccurate, to say the least.”

At this he raised his eyes to hers and held her gaze, and she knew that was the closest thing to an apology she would be getting. They contemplated each other for a few moments, both hesitant as to how to proceed. She didn’t know how honest it would be to declare him forgiven when his taunting words and actions had haunted her for years. She was well aware that he would have been happy to see her dead during their years in school. She didn’t know whether that was something one can ever get past.

However, looking at his tortured expression as he stared at the table, she decided to try. “It’s in the past. I won\'t say it\'s forgotten, but it’s difficult to hold children accountable for the circumstances they are born into,” she concluded, still unsure of the words as they passed her lips.

“I deserve to be held accountable,” replied Draco softly, “but I hope that you can forgive me.” He was suddenly uncomfortable with the topic and knew that there was nothing else to say for the moment. “So what are Potter and Weasley up to these days anyhow?” he ventured bravely.

* * * * *


An hour later, Draco had learned that Hermione had indeed dated the Weasel briefly, but that it hadn’t worked out because he’d been touring with the Cannons and hadn’t wanted to deal with a frequently long-distance relationship. ‘Idiot’ he’d thought to himself, knowing from experience that all the one-night stands and flings in the world couldn’t equate to what it would feel like to come home to someone that genuinely cared for you. Especially someone like Hermione Granger. Looking at her petite form in her simple dress and her wildly tumbling curls, he suspected any man would be an idiot to set her free.

He had also shared with her what he had been doing for the last few years. She had been surprised to learn that he had fled the country and lived as a muggle shortly after the events of sixth-year, and that he escaped Voldemort’s wrath only by the fact that Harry had defeated him early the next year. She’d shared her experiences of the war, including the brutal murder of her parents early on. A heavy silence fell as they realized both had been orphaned to the war.

As they left the hotel Draco noticed the skies darkening and tiny droplets of moisture beginning to fall. “Do you have Floo access in your flat or will you be apparating?” he inquired.

“Actually, neither,” she replied, looking slightly sheepish. “I prefer not to have unexpected visitors so I’ve warded it against apparition. There is an apparition point near my building but we’re so close I’ll just walk.”

She looked a bit stunned as he took her arm and waited for her to lead the way.

“I’ll be fine, really.”

“I’ll see you home.” He spoke quietly but firmly. He cast a charm around the two of them to shield them from the rain, and they set off.

A few steps from the building there was a huge clap of thunder and he startled slightly, quickly casting a sidelong glance at his companion to ascertain whether or not she had noticed. She showed no response, so he continued on, confident that his masculinity was intact.

“Never been out in a storm before?” she inquired from his side.

His eyes snapped to her face, taking in the amusement in her eyes. “I was merely concerned for your safety,” he informed her imperiously.

“How chivalrous of you.”

“It is, isn’t it? All Malfoys have impeccable manners,” he replied as they reached her building, following her in and ignoring her blatantly skeptical expression.

As they reached her door, she looked hesitant once more. She turned towards him shyly and looked up to meet his startlingly silver eyes, startled by his nearness. “I had a nice time, Draco, thank you for the tea,” she murmured. He nodded, stepped closer to her, mesmerized by the sound of his name on her lips, and brushing a stray curl away from her face. Moving slowly to give her time to move away if necessary, he leaned in, bending down to gently brush his lips against hers, hoping to express his emotions wordlessly.

He wrapped his arms lightly around her slender waist, pulling her up and closer as she linked her hands behind his neck. He gently traced small circles on her back with the fingertips of one hand, holding her close with the other, and basking in the sensations of warmth and softness and the sweetness of her lips.

Hermione felt her head go fuzzy as he began to kiss her. Her consciousness was fading as he pulled her closer, his arms and lean, warm body the only things supporting her as he caressed her back and gently stroked her lower lip with his tongue. She was aware of her lips parting and his mouth gently invading hers as he tasted her, but could do little more than whimper.

Hearing the sound, Draco smiled softly against her lips and pulled away slightly, already surprised at what had transpired. He had no desire to rush her into anything and willed the lust coursing through his veins away. He raised a hand to stroke her flushed cheeks and held her gaze for a moment.

“I’ll owl you soon,” he said simply before stepping away and waiting for her to enter the flat. She smiled dazedly at him once more before shutting the door. She heard his footsteps walking away and fell back against the door, releasing a great sigh and wondering whether she would have had the clarity to put a stop to things if he hadn’t. The sheer memory of his lean, muscular body pressed against her, his arms wrapped around her, and his lips… She flushed again and tried not to think about the ache she felt remembering the feel of being in his arms, reminding herself instead that he was obviously the same obnoxious, egotistical prat she\'d always known.


A/N: Please read and review!