Author's Note: Yes Draco is probably out of character, but that's the beauty of fanfiction, I can have him be however I want. Tell me if you think it's too much but this is how he will be the whole story. This will be multi chapter, but not novel length. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters.

In any relationship it is essential to communicate; every couple should discuss the major aspects of their lives before plunging headfirst into life together. Unfortunately this little detail seemed to have slipped Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley's minds.

"You what?" Hermione asked incredulously.

Ron plugged on, not sensing the possibility of bodily harm. "I just assumed that once we got married you would stop working, raise the children."

"Oh, so you just assumed that I would automatically give up my career and stay home to be pregnant and barefoot for you?" Her eyes flashed fire and Ron began to sense trouble.

"Not exactly, no. I just thought you'd want to stay home with the kids, be a good mum."

"Oh so the only mother who is possibly capable of being a good mother is one that doesn't work, is that it? So then my mother was a bad mother on your terms."

His mind was screaming for him to backpedal but he felt he needed to explain himself. "I never said that, I just figured…"

"Well you figured wrong, Ron Weasley. I will not stay home and play the little wife while you "bring home the bacon". I can be just as good of a mother to any fictitious children while working to help support a family. Merlin's beard! Did you completely miss feminism?"

"I haven't missed anything. I simply want you to be home…"

"Oh you've missed plenty Ronald Weasley. I'm beginning to think that you've missed almost everything. If you can get such a big detail completely wrong what else are you missing?"

"I'm not missing anything Hermione, ask me something."

"What's my favorite color?"

"Red."

"Wrong, blue. What was my best subject at school?"

"Arithmacy."

"Transfiguration. What is my boss's name?"

Ron smiled smugly. "Bringles."

"Janson. How many children do I want?"

"Five."

"Two!" Hermione cried. "Ron do you know anything about me?"

"Hermione you can't possibly think those few questions can accurately test my part in our relationship."

"But that's it Ron, it's the perfect test. If you're missing the big things and the little things what, pray tell do you have a grasp on. You don't know me at all." She slid her engagement ring off and set it on the table.

"Don't do this Hermione," Ron pleaded.

"It's what I have to do" With that she turned and walked from the flat.

Best friends Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini made a striking combination, one light the other dark. When they walked into Three Broomsticks every female eye turned to look at them, all save one. The lone woman at the bar shouldn't have been compelling, after all her curly hair could have used some attention, and she was dressed in a simply muggle outfit, but for some reason Draco felt the need to push.

"Any idea who that is at the bar?" Draco asked Blaise, all the while ignoring the women edging closer to them.

Blaise smirked. He had an inkling who the woman may be but he wasn't about to tell Draco. The results would be so much more fun if he lied. "No idea."

"Good." Draco made his way over to the bar while Blaise chose a woman and sat down to watch the fireworks.

Draco sat casually at the bar and ordered a drink. At the sound of his voice the woman turned and he fought the urge to let his jaw hit the floor. Malfoys didn't gawk like teenagers, but Lord had Hermione Granger changed.

"Well well, Hermione Granger. Haven't we… grown up," he managed to say smoothly.

"Don't be a pig Malfoy," Hermione said with significant effort.

It was then that Draco realized that she was piss drunk. "Never pegged you for a drinker Granger."

Her eyes flashed lightning at him and she shook her head. "Never was, until tonight." She downed the rest of her drink and promptly ordered another. "Besides, why do you care?"

The humor in his stormy grey eyes when he answered annoyed her to no end. "Why I'm just catching up with an old school mate. It's been years since I've seen you, and I'm a good guy now if you recall. I fought for the good of the world and all that rubbish."

Hermione snorted. "Barely."

"Can't argue with logic. Let's just say my curiosity got the better of me."

"Curiosity killed the cat," she muttered.

"Don't you mean the ferret?" he deadpanned.

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped. "I suppose you're right. When did you grown a sense of humor Malfoy?"

Draco took his jacket off and slung it over the chair. "Some time ago actually. As I said it's been some years since we last saw each other. It appears we've both changed significantly," he said, his mouth quirking into a smirk as he admired the way she filled out her t-shirt.

"You've not changed all that much, I don't think. Maybe you're not quite as much of a git as you used to be." Hermione turned in her seat to look at him. Maybe it was the whiskey talking but Draco Malfoy certainly looked better than he had the last time she had seen him. The once too thin face had filled out just enough that he had grown out of gaunt and into an amazing set of cheekbones. The storm grey eyes had become beautiful rather than cruel, and his body had certainly benefited from some sort of exercise.

"Like what you see?"

"I stand corrected; you are just as big of a git."

Draco heard a snort from behind him and shot Blaise a look over his shoulder. "Maybe I am, but that's beside the point. What are you doing here?"

She shook her head, sending her hair flying. "Why do you care?"

"I told you, curiosity."

Hermione contemplated for a moment. There was absolutely no reason for her to tell Draco Malfoy why she was drowning her sorrows, but everyone would know soon enough that she was breaking off her engagement. And since she was a little worse for the whiskey she decided she really didn't care who it was sitting there. "If you must know I've just broken off my engagement to that stupid, ignorant, arrogant wanker."

"Ah, I can only gather that you must be speaking of the weasel."

She glared. "Yes. The idiot just assumed I'd give up the career I've built and stay home to have his five children."

Draco laughed. "I always knew Weasley was stupid but never this stupid. I barely know you and I know that's ridiculous."

"Exactly! You and I hated each other for seven years before you decided to help, and even you know more about me than he does! So I gave my ring back. In the morning I have to tell my family and friends, I have to explain to Harry. So tonight I'm drinking my way to courage."

"You're drinking your way to a big hangover, you are." Draco took another small sip of his drink. "And once you tell everyone that it's off the Daily Prophet will get hold of the information and the failed love of two heros de guerre, will be plastered all over the front page for everyone in the wizarding world to see."

Hermione frowned. "I actually hadn't thought about that, damn you. I hate men."

"You don't hate men, you just hate Weasley," he told her confidently.

She teetered a bit on her stool as she whirled to face him. "And how would you know? We've been speaking for twenty minutes after five years of not having seen each other and seven years before that hating each other. What makes you think you know me?"

"I don't know you, I know women, and I know that you're drunk and upset but when it really comes down to it you're smart enough to realize that you're probably better off without him."

"Damn you but you're right. I will be better off, but don't hold out hope that I'll admit that later on."

His laugh rang out rich and full. "You intrigue me Hermione Granger. I'll be damned if I can figure out why."

"Welcome to the club," she muttered to herself.

Draco turned to order himself another drink and saw Blaise at a table across the room. His friend shot him a look but he only shrugged. Blaise's eyes widened marginally at something over Draco's shoulder and he turned just in time to catch the swaying Hermione Granger moments before she passed out cold.

"Merde!" Draco very rarely cursed but he allowed himself the luxury now. He shook his head as he realized that he had no idea where she lived or what he was going to do with her.

"Well hell."

Hermione woke up tangled in a pair of satin sheets that she was certain weren't her own. She opened her eyes but quickly shut them when the hangover hit her like a truck. The one small glimpse of the room told her she definitely wasn't in her and Ron's modest apartment, rather in opulent surroundings draped in lush fabrics and smelling of expensive cologne. The thought of cologne had her sitting bolt straight in the bed and clutching her head at the movement. She looked down and found herself wearing nothing but a man's shirt and her breath caught in her throat. What one earth had happened?

She thought her questions were answered when Draco Malfoy walked into the room wearing nothing but a smirk and a pair of worn jeans.

"Oh God, what have I done?"

Draco took a seat in the armchair next to the bed. "You haven't done anything. I could tease you but I think the hangover is punishment enough. You passed out and I had nowhere else to take you. I didn't think you'd want me to find Weasley or Potter so I brought you here. I had the house elf change you, and before you say anything she was honored to do it, not upset. You've been out all night. I slept on the couch."

"You really have changed haven't you? A few years ago you probably would have taken advantage of the situation last night, or at least lied to me this morning."

He shrugged. "Probably. Come into the kitchen and I'll get you something for your head."

Hermione was half way out of the bed before she remembered what she was wearing. "Um, Malofy?"

"Considering the fact that you spent the night in my bed in nothing but one of my shirts I think you can call me Draco," he said wryly.

The color of Hermione's already blushing face deepened to scarlet. "Draco, do you have something else I can put on?"

He flashed that trademark smirk and pointed to the massive dresser. "Third drawer down; I'll go get started on that headache remedy."

He padded barefoot out of the bedroom and Hermione waited until he was gone before she rose from the bed and crossed to the dresser. She located the correct drawer and found it full of silk boxer shorts and pajama pants. The man certainly had a penchant for silk. She selected a pair of black boxers and tried to ignore the false intimacy of the situation as she slid the silk up her legs to rest on her hips. As she followed her nose to the kitchen she became very grateful that Draco was slim, otherwise the bottoms would be down around her knees.

"If you were any bigger this situation would be even more embarrassing," Hermione announced as she entered the kitchen.

He laughed that same rich laugh from before and set a glass of vile looking potion down in front of her. "Drink that."

She regarded the lumpy concoction and decided that anything was better than the pickaxe working against her skull. She took a deep breath and plugged her nose before downing the whole glass. The taste was loathsome, but the effect was almost instantaneous. As she set the glass back down the terrible tension eased and she felt a thousand times better.

"Thanks for that; do you just keep that stuff around the house?"

"I do actually. It comes in handy when I've had a particularly eventful night," he said with an uncharacteristic grin. He turned and handed her a cup of coffee before setting about the task of making breakfast.

"Thank you, for everything. I feel a right tart."

"You're not a tart," he said matter of factly. "A cheap drunk, I'll grant you that, but not a tart."

"There's that sense of humor again," she laughed quietly. Struck with a need to move, she got up and explored the space. She gasped when she saw the view from his sitting room. Walls of glass looked out on London from a penthouse apartment, showing a breathtaking view of the early morning skyline. From this height it seemed as if the fog and noise and traffic ceased to exist and only the beauty of the city was left behind.

"Draco Malfoy what have you been doing these past five years?" she whispered.

"I've been living in Paris," he told her, smiling as she jumped at the sound of his voice. "Blaise and I have built a business there and now we're bringing it to Britain. I cooked so you might as well eat, come on."

Hermione followed him into the kitchen and took a seat at the island. "What exactly is this business?" she asked as he set a plate of eggs and potatoes in front of her.

"Clothing oddly enough, high end clothing."

"Have I heard of this company of yours?"

"I imagine so," he told her with a smirk. "Foi Du Saint"

Hermione almost choked on her eggs. "Foi Du Saint? Faith Of The Saint? You and Blaise are behind that? I've seen that clothing all over the fashion magazines. It's gorgeous, but so expensive."

"That's why we started in Paris. Our clientele there are able to pay the more exorbitant prices. Now that we've built a sound base we're bringing a more, let's call it monetarily friendly, line to the everyday patron in the UK. If all goes well we'll expand to the States as well. And don't feel bad about not figuring out it was us, not many people pick up on the name."

Hermione thought a moment. " I understand now; Blaise is named after the Saint, and your last name means bad faith. It makes much more sense now. Imagine that, Draco Malfoy designer of Muggle high fashion."

He laughed but shook his head. "Blaise takes care of the design aspects, I just wear the clothes. I handle the business end of things."

Hermione nodded and they lapsed into a companionable silence as they ate. When he finished his meal he began to move about the kitchen cleaning up and Hermione took the opportunity to take in Draco Malfoy. Her little survey told her that it certainly hadn't been the whiskey talking, and in the bright light of day the picture was even more impressive. Silvery blonde hair fell loose over stormy grey eyes, and flawless pale skin that any woman would kill for covered amazing bone structure, specifically the cheekbones she'd zeroed in on the night before. The over worn jeans left very little to the imagination and as he moved about she admired the toned torso, the ever so slight curve of the stomach that was so sexy on a man. He took good care of himself, and he had grown from that gaunt unpleasant teenager into an incredibly handsome man, a fact that she couldn't help but appreciate. She was startled out of her musings when he spoke again.

"What have you been doing with your life?"

"I thought everybody knew what I was doing, thanks to that whole war hero thing."

"Touché, I do know what you've been doing, but since I shared it seems only fair that you do as well.

"Touché. I'm a healer and I love it. I work with obliviated patients, like Gilderoy Lockhart. The ones that I work with can't remember anything of their past, and it's my job to help them function on an everyday level and make sure they don't lose hope."

Draco leaned on the counter and propped his head on his hand. "Sounds difficult."

"It is very difficult, but it's also very rewarding. Draco, why are you being so wonderful to me? You never liked me, not even when you were working with our side during the war. Why now?"

"I've simply changed. When Blaise and I went to Paris after the war I was twenty years old and still carrying a lot of hate and anger. Paris was supposed to help me heal, and I loved it there. When Blaise suggested a muggle clothing line I thought he was fou, crazy, at first." He paused and sighed. "But it was incredibly lucrative, more so than a wizarding line would have been. We started to develop the idea and I started to spend more and more time around muggles. When business boomed within a year I began to interact almost exclusively with them and I quickly learned that everything I'd been taught all my life was mensonges, lies. The majority of muggles are amazing people, and they've done things without magic that some wizards would find incredible."

"They have haven't they?

"Being in Paris changed my outlook on life. Ironically enough it taught me how to be a better person. Then I turned twenty-five and when we decided to expand I knew that I was ready to come back and face the people I'd known before, faite les ammends. I suppose it's oddly fitting that you're one of the first people I ran into."

"It really is. Thank you, for taking care of me and for being a gentleman about it."

"It's not a problem, really. Besides, you wouldn't have been any fun while you were passed out," he said with the barest of smiles.

Hermione snorted out a laugh. "That sense of humor keeps surprising me. If only Harry could hear you…. Oh God, Harry. I've got to tell him about the engagement before Ron does; I've got to tell my mother, oh Lord I have to tell Ginny. What time is it?"

Draco checked his watch. "Eight A.M Saturday. I'm sure you've got plenty of time to make yourself presentable before you have to tell the idiot Potter and the little Weasley."

She ignored the last part and managed to stop herself hyperventilating. "Ok, you're right, but I can't go in the clothes I've got, everyone saw them at dinner last night before I broke it off. I've got to go get something else."

"Calm down, I've got some of the new line in the spare room, you can wear that. Go use the shower and I'll get something for you. I'm sure I've got at least one thing in your size."

An hour later Hermione was showered and dressed in the most amazing outfit she'd ever worn. The black silk pencil skirt and blood red, cap sleeved top weren't her usual color combination but they would do. When she was dressed she found Draco in the sitting room sipping coffee and wearing a Foi Du Saint suit just as comfortably as he'd worn the jeans earlier. When she entered he nodded in approval.

"The colors are a little off but it looks good on you. You'll have to make sure to buy some of the line in a few weeks." He rose and picked up a briefcase. "I've got to go into the office so I'll walk you out."

On impulse, Hermione rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Draco Malfoy, I don't know exactly how Paris was able to so fully change you, but thank Merlin for it, and thank you."