AN: in response to a prompt by riddlesgurlforever on tumblr for the #dhrfavorites prompt exchange of January 2016. This was written really quickly so if you find any typos, PM me.
Prompt: Five years after the 2nd Wizarding War, Hermione runs into Draco in muggle London. He expects her to ignore him like the rest of the wizarding world or even say some snide comment as he has lost everything but she takes him by surprise hugging him, and complaining how injust the Ministry was sending him to Azkaban even after he defected. He pushes her away but maybe she finds him again trashed at a pub, then takes him home? It becomes her mission to help Draco even though all Draco allegedly wants is to be left alone. Maybe she wants to even help him reclaim the Manor and his lost legacy.

Cover designed by the talented Ariel Riddle (whose stories you should go read right after this one)

"Draco Malfoy?"

Draco closed his eyes for just a moment, taking a fortifying breath before turning his head towards her. Even if he hadn't seen her approach from afar, he would have known that voice.

"Granger," he said, with a slight nod. Then he turned towards the window again, staring at the pastries on the counter. They had strawberry tartlets. He missed strawberries. His eyes followed hungrily while the lady behind the counter placed a strawberry tartlet on a plate and handed it to a customer with a kind smile. And he waited. He'd hoped she wouldn't notice him, or if she did, that she'd ignore him. So now he waited for the inevitable insults and slurs, the taunting laugh of revenge for years of being bullied, the glee with which she could remind him of all he had lost.

Instead, he suddenly felt two strong arms wrap around him and his mouth and nose were assaulted by a mass of unruly brown curls.

"Oh Draco, I can't believe I found you. You disappeared so quickly after being released, I wanted to… It doesn't matter. I'm glad you're free now. I still don't understand why the Wizengamot was so severe on you, it wasn't justice, just petty revenge, and I…"

Draco spluttered, trying to get the hair out of his mouth and pushed her away.

"You're babbling, Granger, but what else is new," he sneered, turning away from her. He felt pressure building in his chest and started having trouble breathing. He wanted to get away from her, he needed to get away from her.

She placed a hand on his arm to stop him, though, and when he looked at her over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised in question, she gestured at the cafe he'd been staring at.

"Let me buy you a drink, catch up," she said, smiling a little uncertainly.

He saw the compassion in her eyes, and it stung, more than any insults ever could have.

"I don't need your charity, Granger, I'm not a bloody House Elf," he snapped, pulling his arm free and walking off quickly, hoping to disappear in the crowd.

He didn't see the disappointment on her face.

"I saw Malfoy today," Hermione said while putting the mashed potatoes on the table. Harry stiffened and Ron glared at the food.

"Where'd you run into that Ferret? Didn't think he'd shown his face anywhere since leaving Azkaban. Not like anyone would want to see it."

"Oh, Ron, be nice. I was in Muggle London, near Regent Street. He looked awful, all thin and gaunt. I tried to talk to him but… well, he just walked away."

"Who cares about that git, bloody Death Eater scum," Ron muttered, spooning the potatoes on his plate with unnecessary force. He didn't notice the tiny splatters on his shirt, despite Hermione's disapproving stare.

"He didn't deserve four years of Azkaban, Ron, no matter how much of a git he was. They took away his house, his money, even his wand. That's a bit harsh for someone who just made the wrong choices when he was a boy, even if he hadn't defected right at the end," Harry said, though he didn't completely disagree with Ron.

Hermione beamed at him. "That's what I was trying to tell him. I wanted to talk to him after he was set free, but I couldn't find him. I want to appeal the Wizengamot and have part of his sentence overturned. I mean, he lied to his father about us, which saved our lives. I know we testified but somehow it didn't seem enough at the time. I want to try again but I can't very well do that without his consent, can I?"

"Oh, Hermione, really? You're taking up the Ferret's cause now? Why don't you keep focusing on House Elves or something?"

"If we only want justice for the people we like, how does that make us any better than Voldemort and his Death Eaters?" Hermione snapped at Ron.

He glared at her but didn't respond. After a long, tense silence, Harry started talking about his day at the Auror office, and the topic of Malfoy wasn't broached again.

"And then he shoots himself in the foot with a cutting hex!"

Ron roared with laughter, clinging to Hermione in an effort not to fall off his chair. Harry grinned at his two best friends, as he recounted the capture of one of the most idiotic criminals he'd ever encountered. Of course, the story was even more hilarious after a couple of pints and whiskeys.

Nobody looked twice at them in the Muggle pub they frequented, and it was a welcome change from the never-ending attention the Golden Trio received for every muscle they moved in the Wizarding world. It was the main reason they met here, as Ron didn't ever feel at ease until after the third pint.

Then a cold blast of air struck Harry's back and the laughter froze on Hermione's face. Harry looked over his shoulder, wondering what had captured her attention, and noticed two men stumbling through the door, one more drunk than the other, and the two of them keeping each other upright as well as they could.

"An' annotha thing…" slurred the blond, swaying dangerously on his feet. His black-haired companion sniggered for no good reason and swayed the other way.

"Ish all the Nargles in the place," slurred the blond, looking peeved and glancing around the pub with glazed eyes. "I'm thirshy, Blaise, one more?"

They somehow made it to the counter and convinced the barman to serve them whiskeys.

Harry and Hermione followed their every move, feeling more sober than they had been when they'd arrived in the pub. Ron was still sniggering, oblivious to the scene.

He suddenly seemed to realise his friends were looking elsewhere and he sat up, blinking.

"Whassa ferret doing here?" he asked.

Harry shrugged, and after one last look at Malfoy and Zabini, he turned back to his friends, deciding not to care. Hermione, however, remained focused on Draco Malfoy, her eyes narrowing with every shot he downed.

She didn't hear Harry's response and the ensuing conversation, but when Blaise finally made to leave and Draco started wailing "Noooooo don't leave me, everyone always leaves", she got up and made her way over.

"You go, Zabini, I've got this," she said, nodding at him in simultaneous greeting and dismissal.

"Granger? No, no, no Granger, not you again. 's always you. Go 'way," Draco slurred, trying to walk away but finding it difficult to move his feet now the ground seemed to be moving in all directions. "I wan' annother shot. Whishkey."

"Don't worry, Malfoy. I'll get you another drink, but not here, right? Come along, I know a better place to go," she coaxed, taking an arm and guiding him towards the door. Before they'd reached it, though, Ron yanked her back violently, causing Draco to stumble to the floor. He grumbled something unintelligible, turned on his back and made himself comfortable against the door jamb.

"What, Ron?" Hermione exclaimed, irritated.

"What are you doing with the Ferret?"

"I'm taking him home, he needs a place to sleep it all off. Why?"

"Home? To OUR flat?"

Hermione blinked. "Our flat? What do you mean, our flat? It's my flat, Ron, and we're not together any more, remember. We broke up months ago."

"Weren't you about to get over this silly separation thing? I thought things were going well between us, I thought we'd…" He broke off, not sure how to continue.

"We'd what? Get back together? You thought the break-up was temporary though I told you very clearly I felt nothing more for you than friendship? Ron, it's over between us."

"Well, if you take that Ferret home, it's definitely over between us. Completely over."

"Are you really threatening to throw away our friendship because I want to help someone who has nothing left in the world?"

A groan from near their feet made Hermione realise that Draco was still on the floor while she was wasting time arguing with Ron. They were glaring at each other, but she refused to back down.

"Ron, I never thought our break-up was temporary. I'm sorry you thought otherwise. But no matter what, you have no right to tell me what to do, and if I want to take Malfoy home, I will."

"Go with that Ferret and I'll never speak to you again, Hermione. Is he worth the sacrifice of so many years of friendship? Do you think any of my family will still talk to you if you take that git's side? Have you forgotten what his family did, what his father did to my sister? And what other family do you have left, hmm?"

Harry gasped, outraged.

Hermione slapped Ron across the cheek, and he staggered back, his face transforming from rage in regret.

"Hermione, I…"

Hermione stared at him, her face utterly devoid of any emotion, and Ron couldn't go on. He watched as she turned around and hoisted Malfoy upright. She left the pub without looking back, and they heard the faint pop of Disapparition as the door closed.

"Low blow, mate," Harry said, shaking his head disapprovingly. Then he, too, left the pub and Disapparated.

The first things Draco Malfoy realised when he woke up, were that his mouth tasted of ashes, his head felt like a troll had bashed it in, and he wasn't on the streets as usual.

He groaned when he tried to open his eyes, the blinding light of the morning sun too bright to contemplate doing that again.

A vial was pushed against his lips.

"Drink."

He knew that voice, but right now he couldn't quite place it, between the pounding headache and the screaming voices that made no sense inside his head.

"It's a hangover potion, Malfoy, not poison. Drink."

The voice sounded irritated and loud over the buzzing in his ears. It took him a moment to understand what, exactly, the voice had said, but then he opened his mouth and a foul-tasting liquid was poured down his throat. He gulped and shuddered, keeping his eyes closed while the voices in his head quieted down and the headache receded.

When he finally felt better, he opened his eyes and sat up, his eyes flitting around the room and landing on a bushy-haired witch he recognised immediately.

"Granger?"

"Good morning, Malfoy. Although it is almost noon. How do you feel?"

He contemplated snapping at her, but somehow couldn't find the energy. His eyes darted around the room again. There was a large fireplace to his left, she was sitting on a low table in front of him, and to his right were two doors.

"Like a banshee yelled in my ear all night," he grumbled, after a long pause. "Where am I?"

Granger smiled that same uncertain smile he'd seen when they ran into each other in front of the cafe, almost a week ago.

"This is my home."

A number of questions raced through Draco's head at that statement, but his face remained impassive while his eyes studied her. She looked back, a little apprehensively. He realised she was waiting for him to snap or sneer, as he had done the last time they'd met, and he couldn't help the wave of fatigue that hit him. He could think of any number of insults to throw at her, but he was too tired to fight now.

"Thank you," he said instead.

She smiled a little wider now, and got up.

"How about breakfast? Or brunch, as it is. I can make French toast and I have some fresh fruit and honey to go with that."

Draco's eyes lit up. Food. Fruit. Strawberries maybe? "That sounds wonderful. Thank you."

"Why don't you take a shower. There are towels and fresh clothes in the bathroom. It'll be ready by the time you get out."

She rounded the sofa on which he'd been lying and he turned around to watch her go into the little kitchen.

"Granger?"

"It's the second door," she said, not looking back.

"Granger, why are you being so nice to me?"

"I'm nice to most people, Malfoy," she said, after a pause.

"Hmpf. I seem to remember you yelling at the Weasel last night, so I beg to differ. Don't lie to me, Granger, I grew up with people who lied as easily as they breathed and you're not even coming close their knees."

Hermione took a deep breath, busying herself with the pan, eggs, milk and bread. Then she turned around and watched as Malfoy stood up.

"Because it wasn't right. What they did to you, it wasn't right."

He bristled. "I'm not some bloody House Elf, Granger, I don't need your pity."

"You're probably the furthest away from a House Elf that anyone or anything can be," she bit out. Then she snorted and shrugged. "It's not pity. You saved my life during the battle, don't think I don't know that. I owe you. So I'll help you. I'll get you your wand, I'll get you your inheritance and I'll make that bloody Wizengamot eat their verdict."

Their eyes locked, and she licked her lips unconsciously.

"If you want me to," she added. "I know I can take them on, Malfoy. I know I can give you your life back. But I won't do it unless you want me to."

He stared at her and the silence stretched between them.

"Your friends won't like it. I can remember that argument from yesterday, Granger. Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want to sacrifice your friends? You'd be much better off leaving me alone."

"But you wouldn't be. I think it's worth it."

He sighed, and then the thought of a hot shower and fresh food made him say the words he knew she wanted to hear.

"Then, by all means, Granger, go ahead. It'll be amusing, at least, to see you try."

And with a smirk, he vanished into her bathroom.