"Everything appears to be in order, Mr. Malfoy," the portly lawyer said from across the wide oak desk as he neatened the sheaf of parchments Draco had brought with him to the meeting.

"How long until we see a judge?" Draco asked.

"Four weeks to get the legal separation once the papers are filed on Monday. Nothing I can do about that, I'm afraid, it's the law. Then it will depend on how quickly we can come to terms with your wife to finalize."

Draco nodded. "I understand. I would appreciate your attending to this as soon as legally possible."

The barrister stood and extended his hand. "I will give it my highest priority, sir."

Draco shook the man's hand and picked up his briefcase. He left the office, lost in his own thoughts. He would be glad when his divorce became final, his marriage one of the last remnants of a lifestyle which had grown to completely and thoroughly repulse him.

He pulled himself up short upon seeing a familiar face at the receptionist's desk. He watched as she opened her bulging satchel and handed the receptionist a thick pile of parchment, her expression sad.

He watched as she concluded her business and was struggling to re-close her satchel, the strained buckles not cooperating.

He chose that moment to step into view. As he purposely met her eyes, he said simply, "Granger."

Hermione was tired and she wanted to curse the stupid buckles on her bag for not closing properly even after she had removed the thick wad of documents she was dropping off here at the end of the business day. Her surprise knew no bounds when she looked up at the sound of her name. Of all the people she could possibly run into in her divorce lawyer's office she would never in a million years have thought Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy," escaped her lips in reply before she really thought about it.

He plastered an innocuous grin on his face as he stepped towards Hermione.

He met the eyes of the nervous receptionist and ticked his head to get her to leave. She hied off without hesitation, leaving them alone.

"Fancy meeting you here," he teased as he stepped over to where Hermione was still fighting with the buckles on her satchel.

Hermione looked up and met his eyes for the briefest of moments before refocusing on the task of her unruly buckles.

"I could say the same," she said quietly.

Draco ticked his head and said with a slight smirk, "Well, he is the best divorce lawyer in wizarding Britain. And given that neither you or I are stupid people, he's the man to have if you need him."

"True," she replied, still struggling with a buckle.

He stepped closer and gestured towards her bag, "May I?"

Hermione let out a breath and nodded.

Deftly, his strong graceful fingers got the irksome buckle closed. "There," he said, "all fixed, although you may want to consider an enlarging charm on the inside of that briefcase, I think it's reached maximum capacity."

"Thanks," she replied and reached for something benign to make conversation with, "so… how is your son? Is he enjoying his second year at Hogwarts?"

He nodded. "He is and very glad to no longer be a first-year."

"First year is always the hardest away from home. Rose had fairly easy time of it, but Hugo is not enjoying it as much."

Draco was about to reply when the receptionist chose that moment to return even as the clock on the wall chimed five. He found himself oddly annoyed at that, wanting to see where their interrupted conversation would have taken them.

Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder and said, "I guess that's our cue to leave. It was… good to see you, Malfoy.

"You as well, Granger," he replied honestly as she turned and walked out the door.

He stared at the closed door for just the briefest of moments before quickly throwing it open and himself heading out. He hurriedly looked left and right and spied Hermione a little ways down the block. He called her name and she stopped and turned towards him.

He jogged the half dozen yards to where she stood and asked impulsively, "Would you like to go get a drink… with me?"

Unbeknown to Draco, Hermione was also a little at odds over their interrupted conversation. She had never seen Draco Malfoy so relaxed, so comfortable in his own skin. And she had certainly never before been the recipient of his charm and charisma. It made her wonder why he suddenly felt she was worthy of it after all the long years that they had known each other.

She heard her name from behind her and she turned to see Draco hurrying to catch up with her. Her confusion knew no bounds and it only got worse when he asked with a grin, "Would you like to go get a drink… with me?"

She blinked in surprise, then decided to see where this was all leading. "Alright," she replied simply.

They walked in silence the few blocks to a little-known pub, neither really knowing what to say. They found an out of the way table in the pub and shucked their coats. The bored barman approached their table and looked to Hermione.

"Firewhisky, neat, please," she ordered without hesitation.

Draco gave her an amused look. "Better make that two," he said to the barman.

The barman left to get their drinks and the table grew quiet.

Draco broke the ice. "So, ah, you and Weasley, too, I'm guessing?

Hermione frowned a little. She wasn't really ready to discuss the end of her marriage with anyone, let alone Draco Malfoy of all people. But the "too" on the end of his question let her know she wasn't alone in her failure, so she answered, "Yeah. It's time."

He nodded. "I understand. I waited until my son was well-established at school and now that he is, as you said, it's time. She and I just want very different things in this life."

Before Hermione could reply the barman delivered their drinks. Draco raised his glass in toast, "Here's to each of us having a new chapter beginning in our lives."

"I can toast to that," Hermione said honestly as she clinked glasses with him.

They sipped their drinks in companionable silence, and Draco's eye caught something on the wall. "Oh, hey, darts. Do you play?"

"I used to, haven't in years. You?"

"Same here. Shall we give it a go?" he asked with a grin.

"Are feeling alright?"

"Never better, why do you ask?"

"You've been nicer to me today than you have been in the entire time that we've known each other."

"Oh. I didn't think of it that way. I just… you know what never mind, this was probably a bad idea," he said quickly and belted back the rest of his drink. He stood and threw some coins on the table and picked up his coat and briefcase.

Hermione reached over and put her hand on his. "Draco, wait. Don't go, I just don't understand. Make me understand."

He looked down at her hand, pointedly trying to ignore the warm tingling sensation her innocent touch was generating, he couldn't remember the last time a woman had touched him outside of a business handshake. He dropped his case and coat back on the chair and sat back down. He met her eyes and said, "We're going to need more whisky."

They were nursing their third firewhisky when Draco finally opened up.

"Do you ever have nightmares about what happened?" he asked, his eyes on his glass not meeting hers.

"Of course I do. I have yet to find someone who was there that doesn't."

"I have them," he said as he raised his glass to sip before continuing, "every night."

"That can't be easy," Hermione replied gently.

"It's not. But I look at them as part of my punishment, for the horrible things I did. A lifetime penance for things I can't go back and undo."

He saw that she didn't know what to say so he continued, "Since then I've tried to be a decent person and an above board and honest businessman. I've made myself be more… open minded and accepting. I married Astoria because she was from a good family but didn't have a pureblood mindset like my father. I thought she'd be a good partner, someone who'd help me stay on the respectable straight and narrow. But she doesn't understand what it was like and she won't talk to me about that time, doesn't want to hear that I did vile, horrible things, just wants me to bury the past. She doesn't understand that it's there for me every minute of every day, that there's no escaping it or hiding from it," his hand unconsciously rubbed his forearm where his Dark Mark had been burned into his skin by Voldemort as he spoke, "and she most certainly doesn't understand why I am so adamant that my son not be raised anything like I was. No child of mine will ever be taught to hate like I was, not ever."

Hermione reached over and placed a warm hand on his. She could see the hint of tears in his eyes and hear the raw emotion in his voice. This was not an act he was putting on for her; it was genuine remorse and shame. "I'm sorry things didn't work out with her. And for what it's worth my daughter informs me that your son is a kind and funny boy, full of love for everyone."

He gave her a wane grin. "Then I have done one thing right in my whole miserable life."

Hermione belted back the rest of her drink and teased, "Two things."

Draco chuckled. "And what exactly is the second?"

She waved to get the barman's attention for another round and with a little smirk replied, "Asking me out for a drink tonight."

They were playing darts, not well given the amount of firewhisky they had consumed, but they were laughing and having fun trying to one up each other. For a just a moment they were young and carefree.

Hermione squinted at the board over her dart, her tongue trapped between her teeth as she concentrated. She let the dart fly, wildly missing the target. As she moved so Draco could shoot she said, "So you didn't really answer my earlier question, you know…."

Draco looked down at the darts in his hand for a moment before ticking his head to look at her. "I don't know if I have a good answer. When I saw you in that office I just… I wanted to show you I guess…."

"Show me what?"

He looked back down to his hands and said with a hint of shame in his voice, "That I'm not the same prat I was back then. That I've grown up. That I'm no longer beholden to my family's hatred."

Hermione reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. "I think the fact that we're here, seemingly enjoying each other's company speaks to that. The Draco Malfoy from school would never have done this."

Draco put his hand on top of hers and stoked her hand with his thumb. "No, he wouldn't have."

He insisted on apparating with her to her doorstep.

"A gentleman always sees a lady home," Draco had said, drunkenly offering his arm. Gamely she looped her arm around his, feeling a bit torn over the fact that she actually enjoyed his exquisite manners. Manners that had been on display all evening regardless of the amount of whisky they consumed.

She thought of home and a moment later they were on her front sidewalk with a little pop.

Draco looked at the drab little townhouse that was one of many little drab townhouses. It surprised him. He expected her to live in some sort of cheerful little cottage or something, not a cold, utilitarian row house in Muggle London.

He met her eyes and could see that she caught his reaction. He decided to continue with honesty, as it had seemed to serve them well so far. "Not what I expected, Granger."

Hermione looked at the row of boring townhouses and frowned a little, her mood sobering. "It's just a rental until I can figure things out."

Draco turned to face her. He reached up and brushed her cheek with his knuckle in an oddly familiar gesture and promised, "It'll sort itself out."

She sniffed back her emotions and said, "New chapters, right?"

Draco took her hands in his and gave a squeeze of support. "New chapters."

tbc...