Oh, hello! Hi! It's been a minute, yeah. So this is just something I'm trying out. The chapters with neither be numerous nor lengthy, only extending to maybe ten at most. Right now, I have this as all one document and it's about 7,000 words without notes. I have maybe another 5,000 planned.

This came as a response to the outcry for more Lumione. While this isn't the sequel to "Making Magic" so many have asked for, it it's a little something for you to chomp at. I don't have immediate plans for aforementioned sequel, but never say never, right?

Hopefully you enjoy. I plan to update every couple of days, as I have much of this prewritten. As always, I take prompts and accept requests, even some odd pairings. If I'm not comfortable writing it, I'll just simply let you know and thank you for considering me as the author to write that idea. Even if I don't decide to write your prompt/request, it's still flattering to be thought of as capable of bringing your vision to you.

Some warnings: m/m pairing, language, adult situations, later smut. If you are underage or otherwise uncomfortable with the content, you should probably leave. I will still love you for giving it a shot.

I don't own a knut of this property. Just playing with the characters.

It was a humid Saturday morning in April when Draco first saw her, three years after the War.

Setting his empty coffee cup on the corner of his desk, he perused the papers on its surface. The land deed to the Manor, which had lain empty since the weeks following the War, was accompanied by multiple other documents. Appraisals from various antiquities collectors, offers on the Wiltshire property, and marriage contracts his father had sent from their Highbridge estate made up the bulk of his post, the last of which had Draco squeezing the bridge of his nose in consternation. With the Greengrass contract having fallen through, with both himself and Astoria protesting the courtship, the young man had been hoping his father would have eased the chokehold the elder Malfoy had on his son's life. Alas, as Draco had learned, his parents' quiet divorce had inspired his father to only grasp tighter to the possibilities.

'But what about what I want?' With a shake of his blonde locks, Draco cleared the thought away and dropped the papers back down in annoyance. Another headache was forming behind his eyes from lack of sleep and an overabundance of stress, but he hadn't yet been able to restock his cabinet with the correct potions to help.

He glanced at his cup, nearly glaring for the fact that it was empty and he would have to get a new one, perhaps stronger if his impending headache was anything to go by. Sure, he no longer held his prejudices, but Draco still didn't enjoy a few things about the muggle world, one of which was the morning coffee queue.

His morning only proceeded to worsen while waiting in line to order. A bored child had taken to disrupting the other people in line, pushing past everyone multiple times to zoom about looking at the novelty wares. After the third time of being nearly hit in the testicles by flailing adolescent arms, Draco finally straightened his shoulders and decided to say something.

"Miss, your child is quite rambunctious. Would you mind terribly if I let her colour at my table? I'm right here." A voice said near the front. He could swear he knew that voice. The mother seemed to have acquiesced, being able to keep clear sight if her child without further enraging the bespoke lawyers and tempestuous teenagers among them. As he neared the front of the line, he finally got a clear view of the speaker.

"Of course," he muttered to himself, apparently not 'to himself' enough, though. A ball of curly brown hair flew then settled onto dainty, sun kissed shoulders, and the woman made eye contact.

"Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," she snarked to herself, obviously more amused by the random encounter than offended. Raising her head once again to meet his eyes, she sighed, smiling, and nodded. "Malfoy."

Inwardly, he also huffed a breath of annoyance. Outwardly, however, Draco simply greeted her before stepping forward. "Granger." She watched as he intruded upon the transaction with the young mother and her eyebrows raised when he offered to pay. Hermione darted her head back to her book before he could catch her out.

"Eloise, this is Miss Granger." Draco watched, amused, when her head snapped up and she jumped. Hermione cleared her throat and held out a hand.

"Hermione, please. It's lovely to meet you, Eloise. You have a lovely child." More small talk continued between the women, the child in question still frantically colouring away, and Draco took the time to look over his former classmate. She hadn't changed overly much in the three years since their graduation. Her hair was still just as uncontrolled, she still laughed just as boisterously, and she was very much still incredibly short, he realized. Moments later, Eloise excused herself and her child, thanking Draco for the coffee and Hermione for minding her child.

"She was nice," Granger murmured as they walked out the door, lost in thought. He made a noise of agreement, and her whole body started in surprise before she whipped around to face Draco again. He anticipated some biting remark after she looked him up and down, but instead, she simply gave him a short, sharp smile.

"That was also rather nice of you." Hermione leaned a bit closer, giving him a gimlet stare, "Are you feeling okay?" A hand raised to check his forehead. With his head almost throbbing in time with his heartbeat, Draco had moved into the comforting hand before realizing who the appendage was attached to.

"I'm fine, Granger. Just-" dizziness swept over him and he sat heavily in the seat she had quickly pulled out for him.

"Uh-huh," she snarked back. Oddly, the comment combined with the small smile she had on her face while she rifled through her bag made him miss his mum. "What potions do you normally take for your tension migraines? I have the standard headache potion - it's the McCullough brand, Tension Tincture, and something new from Triple W. They're doing testing for something called Bonne Bons, which are, like, wellness treats based on-" Hermione cut off her ramble when he hissed and grabbed her emergency stash.

Dashing around him, she pulled his head back to face the ceiling, instructing him to keep his eyes closed. A tab of something smelling like chamomile was placed against his lips, which he allowed, in too much pain to question the assistance he was being given. Seconds later, he felt her soft fingers begin rubbing what had to be the tincture on his temples, based on the smell eucalyptus wafting around him. The sounds around them slipped away as she massaged the tension from him, moving from his temples to his forehead and back again.

"How long has it been since you last slept, Draco?" she asked gently, and that small part of him that still yearned for his mother when he was ill clamored forward to answer her without hesitation.

"Two days, give or take. It's all this damn paperwork. Father insists on making things difficult for me. I think it's his way of manipulating me," Draco grumbled, breaking off with a sigh when she moved his head to lay limply forward so she could reach his neck.

"Manipulating you to do what?" Anyone else he knew would have already guessed the issue, but of course, he reminded himself, she was a muggleborn. She wouldn't be versed in the ways of pureblood marriages. "Is it because you won't accept any arrangements?" Apparently he was wrong in his assumption.

"Partially," he replied, lifting his head as she finished her ministrations. "Thank you."

Hermione waved it off, sitting back down in her seat. "I used to get them all the time at Hogwarts. We have much better options now, though." She slid a tin over to him emblazoned with the Weasley brand logo. "Keep 'em. Take another one in four hours if your headache starts to come back. So," the young woman before him placed her hand on her chin. "Other than in pain and inconvenienced by hordes of pureblood princesses wanting a piece of the Malfoy pie, how have you been?"

"What happened to the attitude from earlier?" he sipped his coffee and smirked at her. She didn't miss a beat when she gave it right back.

"I'm not typically rude to those in pain, but I can always make another exception like I did in Third Year." Hermione's cheshire grin turned into a real smile only moments after. "But something tells me you need a break from the arseholes of the world. Lord knows I do." Her eyes caught the light when a patron opened the door, changing them from the murky chocolate brown they had been to an array of glittering golden tones. He didn't know what he had been expecting to find in her gaze, but the open friendliness that made a ball loosen somewhere in his chest certainly wasn't it.

She chuckled and moved suddenly, leaning down in her chair and grabbing her bag. Draco realized he had probably been staring at her, not saying a word, and either she was too polite to mention it or she just didn't care. Rather, Granger retrieved her familiar beaded shoulder bag and had started to pack her things into it. Her arm disappeared to her shoulder inside the bag and his ears finally tuned back in to hear her speaking.

"-get out of here. It's a lovely day and all these people probably won't do either of us any favors." Hermione stood then, face turned to his questioningly. "You up for it? My flat's just there." She raised a slim arm, the series of scars on made Draco visibly gulp and eye the witch before him nervously.

He glanced at her quickly, barely meeting her eyes before flicking them away in the direction her dainty index finger was aimed. Draco knew she had caught his reaction, as evidenced by the red which had spread across her cheeks and nose. Hermione cleared her throat, awkwardly bringing her arm down to her side. "Well, uhm," her trainer-clad toe dug into the scuffed floor, ending with a decisive twist. "Shall we, then?"

Draco stood, nodding, and led the way to the door. He wasn't sure what he had agreed to, or why he was even still walking with her, but when she linked their elbows and smiled at him cheerily, the former Slytherin knew it had been the right thing to do.