Second Chances

A/N: Just a sweet, fluffy, cathartic little piece that I NEEDED after HBP. Is is realistic? Erm, perhaps not. But it\'s sweet, and it\'s filled with lemony goodness (wiggles eyebrows suggestively). If that\'s your cup of tea, happy reading! For more drama/angst/snarkiness- check out Catalyst.


Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all the characters within are not mine- they are all J.K. Rowling\'s and no money will be made from this story.


The daily activities of Diagon Alley were in full swing as Draco Malfoy came through the Leaky Cauldron, a scowl darkening his sharp features. He briskly maneuvered through the crowds, determined to complete his errands and return to the Manor as quickly as possible. The name of Malfoy was infamous as ever following Voldemort’s demise. The facts that there was no more Dark Lord to follow and that Draco had never been convicted of anything had little bearing on the public’s assessment of any Malfoy’s level of danger. Draco seemed determined to reinforce this perception by terrorizing the general population as frequently as possible.

Entering Flourish and Blott’s, he gave a ferocious glare to the salesperson attempting to stammer out an offer of assistance and swept past. He ascended the stairs and had just located the particular volume of spells he had been searching for when he turned to see a young woman, or at least the rear end of one, bending over a low shelf, muttering softly to herself. He stood in mute appreciation of the graceful form for a moment before the girl noticed his presence and quickly straightened, smoothing her dress down over her hips. Approval instantly converted to annoyance as he registered the wild golden brown head of curls.

“Granger.” He spoke sharply, before she had a chance to register his identity. He could see the stiffening of her spine before she turned and suppressed a smile at the familiar response as she turned to regard him, a cool expression on her face.

“Malfoy,” she responded tentatively, as if gauging him for a reaction.

Letting her squirm for a few moments, he took the opportunity to note the changes to her appearance, his eyes deliberately roving over her body. He gradually returned his gaze to her eyes, noting the irritation as she flushed angrily at his frank appraisal.

\"It doesn\'t look good.\"

“I beg your pardon!”

“The book.\" He stared pointedly at her hand. \"If you’re looking for information on potions of that nature, you’ll want one written by an author that has actually brewed them successfully. Denis Matthews is the Gilderoy Lockhart of the potions industry.”

“Oh,” she replied after a pause, looking more uncertain, “thank you. Though I wasn\'t decided yet; I would never purchase a book without thorough research,\" she added haughtily.

Draco nodded, his expression blank, and watched as she seemed to debate whether or not to inquire further. He finally reached past her, causing her to startle before realizing that he was not setting out to touch her, but to grab a book behind her. He leaned in closer and handed her the book, his face hovering near her hair. “This is the one you want,” he spoke quietly before pushing past her and heading to pay for his book.

Hermione waited frozen until he was out of sight, finally releasing the breath that she didn’t realize she’d been holding until after he was out of sight. She leaned back against the shelf, wondering idly what had possessed Draco Malfoy to behave in a civil fashion towards her, much less offer assistance. He certainly hadn’t lost his edge- the imperious countenance that was so intimidating and infuriating, but it was tempered somehow by the development of manners, a cool air replacing the hot temper he once displayed freely. While he wouldn’t soon be up for any congeniality awards, Hermione decided that the new Draco Malfoy was infinitely preferable.

She supposed that another part of his terrifying presence had to do with his uncanny resemblance to Lucius. In the four years since they had left school, his features had matured much as his personality. His hair had grown long, still sleek and platinum, and was tied back. His frame had broadened and he was a bit taller. While there was no love lost between the late Lucius Malfoy and Hermione, she could admit that these changes suited Draco and he had grown into a very dangerously handsome man.

Her reverie was broken by another patron searching for a book and she quickly dismissed the thoughts, making her purchase and exiting the store.

* * * * * *


Draco returned home and headed for the study after instructing the house elves to prepare a light tea. Falling into his leather desk chair, he glared at the piles of paperwork lying across the desk. Malfoy Enterprises was thriving in the years since he had taken over, but that meant a great deal of work for Draco. While he had thousands of people on his payroll, he took great pride in overseeing the operations himself after years of watching he father leave the business to his advisors. No doubt in order to free up more time for service to the Dark Lord, Draco mused wryly, and what an investment that turned out to be.

His head fell into his hands as he found himself unable to concentrate. He was plagued by visions of Granger, all grown up and looking more delectable than ever. Her hair was as untamed as ever but was longer and shinier than he’d remembered, a wild mass of curls cascading down her back. She had filled out a bit as well, sensuous curves evident underneath the simple sundress. The one thing, he noted smugly, that had not changed was her height, remaining a diminutive five feet or so. He had always enjoyed towering over her, though now for a different reason than in the past. He was quite aware that his childhood treatment of her had not been forgiven or forgotten, though he wasn\'t sure why this suddenly seemed to concern him.

Draco had come to many harsh realizations after sixth year. When he found himself unable to excute his assigned task, he was forced to acknowledge that he was never going to be a murderer. This in turned forced him to admit that the Death Eaters were all, in fact, murderers, and that he would never be one of them. He couldn’t, and when he finally started being honest with himself, didn’t want to be. Many of his perceptions of the world were shattered as he realized just how much of his belief system stemmed from the philosophy of total raving lunatics. While he still firmly believed the Malfoy lineage, and himself specifically, to hold a rightfully given place in the ruling class, he cringed to recall how easily he bought into his father’s propaganda.

Haunted by the image of the graceful young witch, he wondered how much of a grudge she harbored. Surely, she had to realize that he\'d just been a child, he thought hopefully, ignoring the voice of reason clamoring for attention somewhere in the back of his head.

A/N- Please read and review!