Rated M for language.

A/N Hello and welcome to another new Dramione. This story will heavily be influenced by the song "At My Weakest" by James Arthur. I urge you to give it a listen. [fun fact, Tom Felton features in one of James' music videos as well!! It's called "Empty Space"] If there are other songs along the way that inspire me to write, those will be listed at the start of the chapter. Please give them a listen as well. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Please don't forget to leave a review. xoxo

Gentle tapping of a light rain against the window filled the office of Draco Malfoy. He sat staring blankly at the glass in his hand, twirling the amber liquid against the fire light of a candle on his desk. Vanilla and gardenias. That smell filled his nostrils every time he inhaled and he let out shuddering breaths with each new memory of her. The honey color of her hair in the sunlight. the dimples of her cheeks every time she smiled, her nose scrunching as she laughed, or the twinkle in her eyes every time she learned something new. Draco shifted in his high backed chair and took a slow sip of his drink. He relished the burn of the firewhiskey and slouched further down into the cool leather seat as he focused on the growing warmth in his chest. The candle continued to crackle and waft it's alluring scent at him. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and brought his empty hand up to rub down his face. He let out a heavy sigh, and groaned when he heard a tap on his door.

"Go away." he called, but was instead greeted by his old school friend. and now business partner, Blaise Zabini. "For fucks sake, Zabini. Piss off. I'm wallowing." Draco grumbled and Blaise smirked as he moved further into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Mate, you've been in here all day. Perkins said you asked her to clear all your meetings for the day. What's the deal?" Blaise asked and leaned against the wall by the window, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his eyes from the blond to the street below.

Draco rolled his eyes and swirled his glass again before bringing it to his lips and tipping it back. He placed the empty glass on the top of the desk and slumped back in his chair again.

"I saw her yesterday. In Diagon Alley. She was with the Weasley girl, walking into Quality Quidditch Supplies. I miss her, Blaise and I don't even have the right to. I am completely at a loss what to do."

Blaise turned his attention back to Draco and quirked his brow, looking rather annoyed.

"Are you fucking serious. Draco? How many times have I tried to tell you that talking to her is best, that it'll help you get closure if not anything else? You don't listen to me, and instead live in misery for no reason."

Draco scoffed and glared at the candle, as if because it carried her scent, it was to blame for his emotional ineptitude.

"I can't just talk to the Gryffindor Princess, Blaise. Everyone is so goddamned protective of Granger, the instant I even get close to her, I'd be hexed within an inch of my life by Potter or Weasel..." Dracos' scowl deepened and he rubbed his face angrily.

Blaise watched his colleague slowly break apart in front of him with a frown across his lips. He sighed and walked over to the opposite side of Draco's desk.

"You won't even try? How long have you been keeping these feelings in? 4th year? Back then, it made sense. It was dangerous for people like us to associate with people like her... Now, though... what's your excuse, Malfoy?"

Draco dropped his head back against his chair and looked at his friend. They were silent, both assessing their thoughts and waiting for someone to speak. Most people might find the quiet to be unnerving, or uncomfortable. They, however, were so used to it. This felt normal, natural even.

Draco slowly stood and placed his hands on his desk, leaning forward slightly with his head hanging downward.

"I'll owl her tonight." he murmured, and Blaise moved to the door.

"Good. I swear to fucking Merlin, Malfoy, if you chicken out again I will be handing your bullocks to you myself."

He let himself out and Draco muttered a few frustrated choice words before gathering his things and heading home.

oO0Oo

"Draco."

He was pacing back and forth in his father's study, hands clasped behind his back, brow furrowed.

"Draco," came the slightly more agitated voice of his father. He remained oblivious.

"Draco." came the now raised and stern voice of Lucius Malfoy, which caused Draco to finally halt and focus his attention on the man sat comfortably in his chair by the fire.

"Father." he replied, attempting to appear more calm than he felt.

Malfoy senior raised a perfectly arched brow at his son and tapped the head of his walking stick. "I assume by your sudden appearance in my personal study, there is something to which you'd like to speak with me about. So by all means, speak."

Draco inhaled sharply and held it for a few beats before breathing out heavily. He ran his hands down the front of his suit jacket, nervously smoothing away wrinkles that so clearly were not actually there.

"Father. I know that we have not agreed on many things, however. I..." his breath caught and he struggled to form words. He glanced up and Lucius sat perfectly still, with a stoic expression, waiting for him to continue. "I would like to request my betrothal to Astoria Greengrass be dissolved, and... and..." he chanced another glance at his father, whose lips were now pulled into a tight line, "and I would like to begin a courtship of my choosing." Draco rushed out, and waited nervously for a response.

Lucius resumed tapping the head of his walking stick, and studied his son for quite some time. Draco wondered if he was fast enough to avoid a curse, should his father suddenly pull his wand from that damnable cane of his.

"Draco, who is it you wish to court instead of Miss Greengrass?" his father inquired cooly, and Draco visibly tensed.

"Well, I.. I'd hoped... please don't be cross with me father, but Miss Hermione Granger is who I'm quite taken with."

They stared at one another. Draco thought he saw his father's jaw tighten, and a vein begin to throb in his neck. Was his eye twitching as well? Draco fidgeted from side to side, unsure if this was the right choice. He knew his father had relaxed his biased beliefs after the war, having originally only wanted the power that came with the Dark Lord, not all the other rubbish. He'd very narrowly escaped returning to Azkaban after his fall and the end of the war. Part of his sentencing had been to volunteer at different post war muggle born charity events and the like, in exchange for helping bring in several high profile Death Eaters that left the Hogwarts grounds before being apprehended. He was exposed to many things over the last two years, and Draco had hoped most of the good bits rubbed off on him.

"Miss Granger? The muggle born witch you frequently complained about as a child?" Lucius asked quietly, and Draco felt a chill surround him. He nodded, holding another breath.

"Do you mean to tell me you would diminish ties to a well suited family, ignore generations of our most sacred traditions, in pursuit of this girl who you used to despise?" Lucius asked, narrowing his eyes at his son.

Draco could feel himself trembling but hoped his father could not tell. He knew what he was asking went against a huge part of his family's history, and not to be taken lightly.

"I do not mean to be disrespectful, father. I understand what I am asking is no small thing. I've thought on this for quite some time, yet always convinced myself I had a duty to the Malfoy name and bloodline to uphold." He paused to take a breath and gather his thoughts. Lucius sat quietly, watching him pace slowly before him. "Father," Draco whispered, and stopped his movement to stare straight into Lucius' eyes, "I have loved her since I was 14, and I have carried the guilt and burden of never being good enough for her, never being able to protect her and never being able to apologize for it all. You told me once how deeply you loved mum while attending Hogwarts... Please, I beg you.. allow me this. "

There was another long stretch of silence as Lucius mulled over his sons words. Draco really thought he had laid the final brick of disappointment to the wall built between them over the years, until Lucius gave a slight nod, and looked down to the snakehead of his cane. Draco's mouth fell open and he almost yelped in shock. He wanted to say a thousand things, ask a million questions, but it was as though his brain and body forgot how to human.

"Draco, if you are through gaping like a fish, you may leave."

He hurriedly nodded and fled to the door of the study, fearful his father would suddenly take back his approval.

"I will be in touch with Miss Greengrass' to inform her of the good news. Do send my regards to Miss Granger." he heard his father call before sparing him one last glance and leaving the room in a rush.

oO0Oo

Draco was staring at the blank parchment on his desk and tapping his quill anxiously. His head was buzzing at the conversation between him and his father. He'd had hope his father would be understanding, after everything they went through after the war, but the reality that his father gave permission with little fuss at all really was shocking. Was he lying? Was he making Draco think he had his permission on this, or would he rip the rug out from under his feet at a later moment? Draco did wonder whether or not his father was being completely honest, but he figured he'd take what he could, and rushed out of the study to his own bedroom. He pulled his lips into a thin line and furrowed his brow as he dipped the quill into his ink pot and began to write.

oO0Oo

Hermione managed to live a rather simple life after Hogwarts and being dubbed war heroine of wizarding Britian. She chose to open a shop in Diagon Alley, to the surprise of her friends and society in general. Everyone expected her to land a spot in the Ministry and climb the proverbial ladder to the top. Maybe at one time, she would have, but after everything, all she wanted was quiet. Calm. She wanted to build something of her own, and share it with her peers. Hence, her shop Muggles Magic, inspired by and in honor of Arthur Weasley. Hermione felt she owed him so much, as he fully took the role of father on in her life when they realized there was no bringing Hermione's natural parents back.

Her shop was filled with all sorts of muggle gadgets and products enchanted to function in the presence of magic. It took her quite a long time to perfect the spells needed for such items, but she succeeded and used a portion of the money allocated to her by the Ministry for her services during war to buy the plot and build the establishment. It took awhile for people to warm up to her ideas, but eventually, she gained a steady stream of curious and happy customers. Her best selling items were definitely the television sets, radio alarm clocks, and mobile phones. Her store was modest, but she worked hard to make sure she always maintained a decent supply through her various muggle born contacts that liked to live in both worlds.

All in all, Hermione was very content in her life. She had Harry and the Weasleys, regardless that her memory charm on her parents was so well done, it would be practically impossible to reverse. It was difficult for her to find a balance in life without them, and as painful as it still was, she felt they would be proud of her if they knew.. if they remembered.

She was beginning her end of day routine, closing up shop, turning off any electrical items, and locking everything down before the quick tidy. She was about to lock the front door when she noticed an owl waiting outside for her.

"Come on, then." she said quietly as she opened the door and gestured the bird inside. "Who's sent you, gorgeous?" She asked with wide eyes. The owl flew easily to the checkout counter and perched itself there with its leg extended so Hermione could grab the letter. This owl was stunning, and large, and clearly expensive. She'd assumed it came from a home of money, but nothing could prepare her for the moment when she turned the envelope over in her hands and saw the infamous Malfoy crest staring back at her. She stood still for several moments, unable to breath or form coherent thoughts. It didn't make sense that any of the Malfoys would be writing her.

Hands shaking and a quick glance at the now more formidable looking owl, she pulled open the letter and read the neatly scrawled message:

Miss Granger,I hope I have not caught you at an inopportune time, however I felt compelled to reach out to you and do hope this reaches you in good spirits.I happened to be in Diagon Alley the other day, and spotted you spending your time with Ms. Weasley, or rather, Potter. I wanted to speak to you, but chose not to impose on your outing.If you would do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight, I'd very much like to share your time and get some things off my chest.Yours,Draco Malfoy

Hermione had to re-read it several times and even went as far as to perform some diagnostic spells. She wasn't sure what she should even look for, but it seemed harmless enough in the end and she settled for staring at the senders name.

Malfoy... Draco bloody Malfoy. What in the actual...

End Chapter 1