Chapter 1

Draco felt his mothers hand clench in his as she gently leaned into him, as they watched Lucius finally interred with the other generations of Malfoy heirs in the mausoleum. Draco knew his mothers flawless facade wavered, she was a Malfoy however, she was not entitled such weaknesses among the pureblood social elites. Draco squeezed her hand back, this was why he had come, his mother was swimming with sharks in her weakest moment. Why she felt remorse for the man that had been cruel to her and Draco (both emotionally and physically), as well as offered them to Voldemort, Draco couldn't fathom. Maybe Draco could forgive the abuse with years and years of therapy, but he felt he could never forgive his sire for bowing down to a Half blooded hypocrite. He would never understand why Lucius forced him and his mother to submit to the red-eyed asshole. It was a father's job to protect his family but Lucius coerced his family into the bloody cult, and demanded they serve his "Lord". It took all Draco had not to spit on the mans coffin, that's how much he came to loath him. Yet here he was, the perfect pureblood heir attending his sire's funeral, surrounded by all the other self entitled pureblood families who only came to maintain their status in the hierarchy.

As if any of that bullshit mattered anymore since Voldemort's fall. The purebloods still clung to it however, still maintaining that they are still superior to those without the long established in-breeding that supposedly kept their blood clean. It infuriated Draco, he thought after Voldemort's defeat by the half blood wonder boy and his muggleborn friend, the pureblood families would change their opinion on the matter. In fact the pureblood that was associated in the "Golden Trio" was arguably the least talented of the three and the biggest fucking git in the world.

Draco leaned over and delicately kissed his mother on the head, "I'm going to go for a turn around the garden" he muttered into his mothers platinum hair, as the pure-bloods began to swarm them to offer condolences. Draco had no need to commiserate that arrogant, prejudiced bastard, and he was pretty sure that laughing in their face when they offered, I'm so sorry for your loss, or he was truly a great man, would be taken poorly.

It was late spring and Malfoy gardens were full of blossoms and earthly floral smells that wafted delicately on the breeze. Though he would never admit it openly, there was something nice about this time of year, when the earth came back to life after long cold winters. It reminded him very much of his time spent abroad after he graduated. Draco was sentenced to an eighth year at Hogwarts after Voldy's death, the minster thought that sending him back to finish his NEWTS would help the boy get his life back on track. Shackelbolt also required him to take muggle studies with the other Death Eater youths, begrudgingly Draco did find the class enlightening. It didn't take much for him and his classmates to realize that they had been essentially brainwashed by their parents and their lineage. They were introduced to muggle science, literature, and history , the leaps and bounds that muggles took to form the world around them were truly amazing. After they graduated, it was announced that the class would become mandatory for all students up through the fourth year, because as Headmistress McGonagall said, "knowledge and acceptance would be the only way to stop the discriminatory hate that festers between us".

When he left Hogwarts Draco decided to travel, he mostly backpacked around Europe, riding lots of muggle transportation and staying with muggle and magical families. He wanted to live without the convenience of money, he wanted earn his way, so he found small jobs here and there, to pay for his accommodations and food. He just lived. He lived without the expectations of home, family loyalties or duties. He didn't fret if he would be killed by a maniac or worry that his mother would be abused, his most pending issues were where he would stay and eat from month to month. These travels also enlightened him, he met people from all walks of life, from people who were well to do in Paris, to a family with very little in Spain. It seemed to him that some of the happiest people that he had met, were also some of the poorest. Draco could almost feel the humid air on his skin as he reminisced about Spain.

The Barcelonan night had been hot and humid and people were flooded the streets for supper as Draco sat with the flatmates that had rented him a room during his stay. The old man down the hall from them had captured Draco in a very broken English conversation. "Is it like this all the time?" Draco wondered it was a Tuesday evening and the streets were full of people drinking merrily. "Doesn't anyone work tomorrow? Are they not worried about hangover?"

The portly Spaniard chortled, his laugh lines and crows feet deepening, he had clearly lived very long happy life. "that es tomorrow issue, tonight we drink, we laugh, we 'appy." He then leaned over and filled Draco's glass with more Sangria.

That was a big revelation for him, Draco did not remember much after that conversation, (because a lovely Spanish girl plopped herself in his lap and applied him with copious booze) but the words lingered in his head for days. Could life really be that simple? Live for today? Live for now?

It was there in Spain that Draco had received an owl from his mother, informing him that Lucius had finally been found dead in his cell at Azkaban. While Draco knew his mother would not demand his presence at Lucius' funeral, he felt an obligation to his mother to return to support her through the loss of her husband. Draco was pretty sure that Stockholm Syndrome was the reasoning for her grief, because there was no way his beautiful, graceful, elegant mother could love such a monster, although, she still somehow managed to love Draco.

"Draco!" Called a female voice which was vaguely familiar.

Draco stopped took a deep breath and turned around to see who called him, briskly trying to catch up to him was Pansy Parkinson. Draco figured she would be here, his mother had told him that funerals had become a new way for pureblood families to match make their heirs. Though since the Ministry outlawed marriages closer then second cousins, it was becoming harder and harder for purebloods to keep clean, and families were getting desperate. "Pans" he said in even tone.

Pansy caught up, and looked at him "I heard you were back in country." She looked at him with a smirk that all Slytherin's mastered by their second year at Hogwarts.

He proceeded forward, not looking at her keeping his stony glare ahead of him. "Yes, flooed in yesterday."

Pansy watched him carefully noting that he hadn't actually looked her in the eye yet. "You were traveling, your mother said?"

"Yes, it's typically what one does when they leave the country" he said coolly still not looking at her.

Pansy eyes narrowed, She wasn't sure why he was giving her the cold shoulder but she wouldn't put up with it. "Look, if you want to be a prick go ahead. I just wanted to see you again since you left so abruptly last time" she sneered at him.

He shrugged. "You came, you saw," he said shortly.

Pansy jumped in front of him and stopped him with her hand. "What's your problem, Malfoy? Someone shove a wand up your ass while you were gone?"

Draco stopped and finally looked down at her. "Look, I'm just over this self-entitled pureblood bullshit that everyone is still spewing, for some reason."

"And you think I'm not?" she spat at him "My mother has tried to sell me off like some horse at least six times since you left, all to old gits who need erection spells to get hard."

Draco considered her for a moment, "So you're not throwing yourself at me to prevent your exchange to an old bat."

Pansy scoffed. "Look, I've got myself a half blood who truly loves me, but we're waiting until my mother goes senile or dies so I don't lose my inheritance."

Draco rolled his eyes. "How romantic, looks like your going to be waiting a long time."

Pansy moved back to his side and they started strolling again. "Honestly, I'm betting on senile first. My mother has always been insane, so senile can't be far off. One of the benefits of keeping it in the family I guess," she laughed to herself.

"You know that means that you're likely to be crazy too, 'cause, you know, genetics," he smirked.

Pansy smacked his arm and then crossed her arms. "Yeah, well, hopefully I won't pass it on to my kids. I've already made sure that I have no familial connection to Matthew."

"Matthew?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't know him. He's an American diplomat that I met working at the Ministry. I work in Foreign Affairs now."

"I see." Draco paused for a moment. "So tell me then, are things really changing? Because from my understanding, it's still the same shit, different show"

Pansy smirked again, this time looking down at her feet, letting out a sigh and looking up once more. "I think in our generation, yes it's changed, many of us lost family and friends to either death or Azkaban, we are just done with old traditions. Our parents however, they seem stuck still, which puts us in positions to lose our inheritances. Nott was thrown out when his father found out he had been sleeping with a muggleborn. He stayed with Zabini until his father was thrown in to Azkaban, and had to forfeit his wealth, which Theo just took over again, so that worked out well. But that was a special case, Greengrass was disinherited when she ran off with some halfblood from Hufflepuff."

Draco scoffed this time. "Well, I don't think she was suppose to be a Slytherin, I think she chose that to keep her parents happy. She was always too sweet to be one of us."

Pansy nodded slowly. "Isn't it sad that we were worried that our parents would be mad if we were sorted in to anything but Slytherin? I mean, how messed up is that?"

Draco looked down at his feet. "Yes, it is. Being a pureblood heir is horrible. My dad disciplined me for being second to Granger in school rankings. Not congratulations for being second in your class, but a back hand to the face for letting a muggleborn beat me."

Pansy shook her head. "Sounds pretty normal to me. What I wouldn't give to be born in to a non-pure family. I could marry who I want, do what I want, be who I want. Those twats have it so easy."

Hermione's eyes glazed over as she read the same sentence for the fifth time, she leaned back in her chair and ran her hands through her curls, betting to herself what time it was. She sighed and looked at her watch, 12:15am. She exhaled loudly feeling her chest collapse under the stress of the day, she arrived at the Ministry at eight-thirty that morning, as she did every morning, even though none of her co-workers would be there until nine. Hermione had always been like this, always early, always working harder then her peers to achieve excellence in her work. She smirked it was no wonder she had no social life to truly speak of outside of work, the Weasley's or the Potters. Ron always complained she worked to hard and never had time for him, and that very reason led to the demise of their romantic relationship.

She leaned forward, marked her spot on the paper work, shuffled some files on her desk in an orderly fashion, and stood up to leave, flicking her wand to turn of the light in her office. The Ministry was silent, the only sound was of her heels clicking the marble floors. There was something calming to her about the ministry when it was vacant, almost as if she could feel the building itself give a sigh of relief before the onslaught of chaos that would happen again tomorrow. She smiled meekly to herself as she approached the floo network and grabbed some powder and called out home, and with a whirl of green flames she felt herself almost fly into her own fire place.

Immediately Crookshanks jumped off the lounge, and started making circles around her feet. " I know Crooks, I'm sorry, I got caught up again" The cats big round amber eyes glared at her as he gave his tail an irradiated twitch and mewed at her, demanding his dinner. Hermione leaned down and gave the cat a pet, and he nuzzled her shins. She stumbled over him in to the kitchen and grabbed his dish and scooped some dry food out of the bag and in to his bowl. As Crookshanks starting eagerly eating his food, Hermione perused her kitchen for a late night snack. She had a brief dinner that evening and knew she wouldn't be able to sleep with her stomach rumbling at her. She settled on an apple, sliced it up and dipped it in some peanut butter. When she finished her midnight snack, the witch headed for bed, Crooks following behind. She started her usual evening routine, brushing her teeth, then her hair, slipping into an oversize tee-shirt and crawling into bed. She flicked her wand once again and her room fell into darkness, she breathed deeply and tried to relax her mind.

Relax, however, was the last thing her mind wanted to do. So much had changed over the last four years since Voldemort's defeat. She and the most of the her classmates from her year had been able to retake their seventh year at Hogwarts in order to sit their NEWTs. Harry and Ron had returned as well, both of them wanted to become Aurors, and while it seemed like they had a shoe in for the program, they still needef to achieve proper NEWTS, much to Ron's dismay. Harry, however, was not so upset, seeing as Ginny was there for her seventh year too. It was the first year, that Hermione actually felt she could enjoy her education without some dark looming force hanging over them.

"Ronald Weasley, give me my book back right this moment!" the memory of her, Harry, Ginny and Ron basking under the rare spring sun, during their final year at Hogwarts swam in front of her eyes.

"Come on Mione, NEWTS aren't for another month! Just enjoy the good weather!" Ron begged, holding her Potions books over his head while they sat under the birch tree next to the lake.

Hermione crawled over Ron to get to her book. "Yes, Ron I know, and I need to review that book one more time before then!"

Ron wrapped his free arm around her waist, dropped the book and rolled them over with his body over hers, he then kissed her soft and sweetly. Hermione couldn't help but laugh as her friends protested the PDA.

So much of her childhood had been wrapped up in avoiding one danger or another, living without an impending doom felt foreign, like she was living someone else life. She relished her final year at Hogwarts, for the first time in what felt like forever, she was allowed to be young, she smiled to herself at the thought of that.

After she had obtained O's in every subject she took, Hermione left Hogwarts for the last time. Tears welling up in her eyes Hermione looked over the grounds just outside of the gates.

"Only you would cry about leaving school." Ron teased standing next to her his hands casually in his pockets.

"Oh, Ron you don't get it. Everything changes now, we will probably never see most these people again. We grew up here, we lost people here..." Her voice thick with remorse.

Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione pulling her close into him and giving her a soft kiss on the top of her head. "I know, but change can be good, we can start our own life now."

Walking away from those gates almost felt like the ending of a book that she would only be able to read once, yes she would always have memories, but with time they would fade, as all memories do. Time would chisel away at the years she spent there, and for that reason she grieved for Hogwarts, or at least the time she spent there.

Shortly after they graduated, Ron and Hermione moved in together. She followed Ron up to their new apartment which she hadn't actually seen yet, she had been so busy with her internship with the ministry Ron had to find them somewhere to live, though Hermione was sure that Harry had a heavy helping hand. Ron stopped at a door nervously playing with the keys. "Are you sure you're ready?"

Hermione chuckled. "Ron, it's just an apartment it's not like it's forever." She smiled and pecked him on the lips. "Besides now that means we don't have to sneak around in empty rooms and corridors anymore."

Ron smiled and turned around to unlock the door, he took her hand pulled her in to a narrow hallway. "So here on the left is the kitchen." Hermione looked through the small arch to find a small galley kitchen with a small dinette at the back of the room. Ron let go of her hand as she was noting the cobalt blue counter tops, wondering how much she would have to clean before they could actually move stuff in. She instinctively followed his voice down the hall. "And here to the right is the living room." Hermione stepped through the next arch way her breath taken away as she saw all of the Weasely's, Harry and her parents standing in a half circle around Ron who was kneeling down on one knee with a ring box in his hands. "Hermione Jean Granger, marry me."

Hermione's hand clasped over her mouth and tears ran down her cheeks. "Yes!" She screamed throwing herself on to Ron as the room filled with cheers and applause.

Hermione could almost feel the tear welling up in her eyes again as she recalled this memory. In that moment, she thought that was it, her entire world, life, and all the love she had, was standing there in that room. She wanted so so badly for her and Ron to end up married, living happily ever after like all the fairy tail books she had read as a girl, she wanted to be content with him raising a family as Molly did.

Deep down inside though, she knew it wouldn't work, and as time rolled by and Hermione kept pushing off the wedding for this work promotion, or that project, Ron became more and more impatient. They started fighting all the time, he wanted her home, he wanted her to settle down, to marry him and have kids.

When Hermione stepped through the fireplace in their apartment she was shrouded in darkness, she had a very long day at the Ministry and was getting home late again, and she expected Ron would be asleep already. Her breath hitched as she saw movement out the coroner of her eyes, and she let out a relived sigh as her eyes adjusted and she saw Ron sitting on the lounger, sipping his whiskey. "I'm done, I'm sorry." His voice dejected and defeated.

Hermione's breath caught again and tears started to tumble form her eyes, as her heart shattered, but she slowly nodded. "Okay." Tears fell like rain from her eyes as she looked down. "Ron, I..I..I'm so sorry." She choked.

Ron stood up and moved towards her, embracing her tightly as she cried into his chest some rouge tears escaping from him. "I know Mione, I know. Me too."

She had known it wouldn't work, and they just accepted defeat for what it was, they weren't good for each other. She knew Ron had felt too, but he desperately clung to the idea of her because its what he thought should happen, because everyone told them they were so perfect for each other. People telling you, however, is never enough for a relationship. So that night he packed up his things and left for the Burrow.

They promised each other that this wouldn't come between their friendship and that they still loved each other platonically. It was awkward for a few months, the first Weasley Sunday Brunch Hermione went to after the break up was uncomfortable to say in the least. The rest of the Weasley family walked on eggshells waiting for the two to have a row, however they remained civil. It took a few more Sunday Brunches for Ron and her to be on friendly terms again. Now two years later Ron and Hermione joked about their former love life and Ron had a wonderful girl he met through the Auror office that simply hung off his every word. Hermione liked Sara for Ron, she was feisty, but kind, they shared the same sense of humor, and yet she had no problem mothering Ron in the way he so needed to be loved, most importantly though, she wanted to have a heap of kids and be at home to raise them.

Hermione, however hadn't found anyone, she spoke to many many men at the Ministry everyday, pushing files here, or signing paper work there, but honestly she was far to busy in her work to even acknowledge men when they did try to flirt with her. It certainly wasn't for lack of beauty that Hermione remained single. In fact she had been on the the short list twice in the past two years for witch weekly's most attractive single ladies. When journalist asked her for an interview and a photo shoot, Hermione laughed the poor witch out the door. Being famous for her role in the defeat of Voldemort had put Hermione in a very uncomfortable spot light, one that she tried desperately to avoid, and yet somehow her face still landed in the prophet on a regular basis. Much to her frustration, it was never for her accomplishments at the Department of Magical Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but rather, who she was seen with, or what she had been wearing at whatever gala, ball or fundraiser she attend.

At this point in her life Hermione had no interest in a love life, and she didn't see herself falling in love anytime soon.