I haven't abandoned this story, I just keep getting busy with other things. I hope it was worth some of the wait.

Chapter 18

She knew that there was truth in Ethan's words after her first day. It wasn't simply the act of familiarizing herself with a lab or learning the muggle ways to do what magic could do. It was the very fact that the work was a build up to knowledge. She was a natural predator for knowledge and she enjoyed finding her way around the work. She had read up on the strain they were working with and spent her free time trying to see if she could even grasp what it was she was getting herself into. So when the pieces fell into place and she went from one source to the next quicker than she found them, she liked the rush that came with the search of information. A few days in the lab had turned to her spending a few hours at a time after work in the weeks later.

She didn't mind the extra work she took on by going into the lab, it was fulfilling. She had spent most of her adult life healing people because she had to and then because it was all she knew. She never led herself back to simple academics of it all. So when Lauren was preparing to finally take maternity leave, it came down to the question of what was Hermione going to do?

Her mind knew what it was she wanted but her mind knew what it was accustomed to doing. Taking the research position would be literally one step forward and two steps back. She had spent the time leading up to it questioning if it was even that good of an idea. She wasn't going in as a post grad, she was going in as a lab assistant. She had spent too many years establishing herself at St. Mungo's. If she really wanted, she could try to find work in the magical world. Of course some might let her past be her credential as most research positions required a potions mastery which she lacked on paper.

Working in Ethan's lab had come naturally and she wasn't going to reject it just because it lacked magic. Despite lacking years of experience, lab as a whole accepted her as one of their own.

Even her friends saw the change in her. They found her blathering about the progress made and the ways things went right and wrong. It was that spark they remembered from youth but hadn't realized she lost it. They were almost missing the days of boring conversations of how good the weather was or how fine things were.

She felt herself become someone she knew, someone who wasn't the liar to Draco. She felt herself be one person again.

She felt like she was Hermione again.

The only question was, was it worth it to still work at St. Mungo's?

She was sure she could ask to be cut back to a half schedule but then she didn't see the point of keeping the positon. There was no point keeping a placeholder for a career that she had maintained quiet well but likened to window shopping, useful enough but not the real thing.

Looking down at the parchment to her boss, she signed and had it sent off to request a meeting later.

Either way, she would decide.

He was restless and he knew it.

At present, he blamed his father for being restless in public.

Dennis Creevy had wanted to open a tribute exhibit in honor of his brother and with Malfoy money of all things, Colin's last pictures of the war and before the war were now open for all to see.

Draco hadn't cared for the idea as a whole but Lucius continually reminded him that image was to be maintained and being nice to the Gryffindor was part of it.

Not only was there magical and muggle pictures about the exhibit hall, opening night had brought out everyone who had an invitation and many who didn't.

Somehow, the gallery was the event of the night and the rope jumpers were an acceptable byproduct of the goodwill gesture. Even his father was happy for the uninvited guess, the more there were, the more it painted the event in a good light and the civil air only heightened the image of the reformed Malfoys.

Draco knew he made himself unapproachable and thus unable to have someone stave off his restlessness but he had no want to be at the exhibit. As far as he was concerned, he did his part. Draco was more than happy to see the back of the younger man after giving Dennis the money he wanted. No, Lucius had other ideas and bore down on Draco to attend and so Draco was now hiding from all with a look of contempt for the whole night.

Watching the observers comment about the scenes imprinted for all to see, he honestly didn't care what some remembered of back then or how things changed.

He had a damn good fucking clue what things were like before the war and he had an even better clue what changed after.

"Thinking your family wasted its money?" He shot Harry Potter a snide look hoping the other man would take the hint and run off to someone else.

"Don't presume to know what I think scarface." Draco had long ago played the scene of how hilarious Hermione's friends might have thought of what happened but when the taunts never came, he knew that it wasn't a joke to her. However, joke or not, she still spent a good number of years lying to him. He tried to accept that she was only withholding information but then he remembered many times seeing her in public and being within reasonable distance where she treated him like he didn't exist. Jean was one thing and her real identity was another but to have Hermione just brush him off like he didn't matter was something else. No matter what level of secrecy she wanted, it was clear in that alone, she thought so little of him. If anything he had a better time reconciling the near decade of history he had with the Granger he went to school with.

So if it had been a joke for her, it wasn't one worth sharing with her friends, at least not by the civil demeanor from Potter tonight. They had seen each other a couple of times at the pub since that fateful day in January and neither of her golden boys made any indication of knowing about his personal fallout.

"I just wanted to let you know you did good Draco." The genuine appreciative tone from Potter gave him pause to not mock the man. "Colin was a good kid and I know Dennis felt bad for not being there to save him at the last battle."

With that Harry held out his hand and through the doubt and realization, Draco didn't care for the man's approval.

"I didn't do it for you." He walked away at that.

He knew why he did it, he had spent a good portion of the beginning of the night looking at the picture of why and he wasn't going to let Potter know he cared. It was bad enough Potter was being familiar enough to use his given name for the public to hear.

Spotting his parents across the hall, he made his way through the crowds away from them. He wasn't interested in making connections that night, he wanted to bide his time and go.

Picking up another drink at the bar, he watched from his corner as people admired the pictures.

He wasn't surprised when he saw her. He had known she would be invited. Everyone who was in any of the pictures that were displayed had been invited for the opening and a large amount of the collection had either her or one of her friends. He watched as she lingered from one picture to the next. There was no one on her arm and no one coming to shield her private moments with the pictures when someone approached and broke her out of her thoughts.

He had a good view of her from where he was. She took her time with the pictures but he also saw a good number of drinks pass her fingers.

He hadn't known her to hold down too many drinks and made a wonder how many of her drinks were alcoholic as she hadn't started to show any signs of stopping or having a reason to do so.

So he dared to leave his spot and approach her silently.

He saw her tense up as he stood but a feet from her. She didn't say anything nor did she turn. Her thoughts had either caught her or she didn't care to know who was behind her.

"Your godfather was a good man." She said it quietly before turning to see him from the corner of her eye. Nodding, she handed off her empty glass for a new one.

"You've obviously been drinking too much if you truly believe that." He knew he was only looking at the back of Hermione but for a brief instance he forgot.

He forgot that she was the one he insulted in school, the one who left him.

She shrugged at that before moving to the next picture.

"Does it really matter if I've been drinking? The sentiment stands." She was defiant of his challenge. She had worked her way from the years at Hogwarts and seen the world through Colin. She saw life at Hogwarts, those years were literally a build up to the war they fought. The fear of blowing up a cauldron was to be a fear that when you needed to brew healing potions, you had to be right the first time.

He trailed behind her and the tense shoulders proved she knew he was still there.

"Granger." There was a bite to his voice but he could see the slight sway in her walk the closer he was.

She was at least tipsy and it wasn't good. If she drank to look at the images then she would have a good many more before she was done for the night.

Reaching out, he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Twenty-nine's a tiring age and to think that for witches and wizards, that's just a small fraction of life." She shook his hand off her shoulder before going to the next one. It was of Dumbledore making some speech, stuck in the moment as it was a muggle picture.

He didn't have a chance to say more as he heard the clear sound of her phone buzzing. It was the distinct sound he had heard many times when she stayed over. He knew she rarely answered it on the first call and usually let it go rather than answer in his presence. She didn't do so this time.

He watched her take the phone out and stroll out of view of others.

He waited to give himself a reason. There wasn't a reason why he approached her.

There wasn't a reason why she should care about even Snape.

There wasn't a reason why he should care if she was headed out the doors and was obviously preoccupied and not at her fully capacity.

The hall was in muggle London and if she didn't seem to care if anyone saw her out there then it didn't matter to him.

Except it mattered.

So he abandoned his passive aggressive mood and went after her.

Was it a good idea to find her in the alley on the mobile? Doubtful.

Was it safe for her to be alone in the dark alleyway, oblivious to even his approach? Undeniably not.

So he wasn't anymore pleased to know that the tail end of her call had her making plans to meet someone the next night. Some rotten muggle for dinner.

She hadn't much chance to put her mobile up before his approach and hadn't the chance to let herself catch her breath before he was within her personal space.

"Draco?" Her initial shock only proved how little she cared anymore of her safety and awareness of where she was.

The shock that passed through her eyes was quickly replaced with curiosity.

The color might be different but in the dark, the hint of light through them was the same. The familiar tone of her voice when she spoke his given name, for a brief second relief washed over him.

For a brief second, he saw Jean.

For a brief second, he saw the woman who he accustomed to waking up to.

He felt the relief wash over him slowly.

It had felt like he couldn't sleep since she left. Whether or not he got his hours in or not, he always woke feeling like he hadn't really slept a wink. A few nights with Dreamless sleep potions and restorative potions didn't do him any better.

But that brief instance where he saw Jean, it was like he was finally succumbing to what he was missing.

"Don't." His harsh tone stopped whatever her eyes were trying to tell her to say.

She didn't make a motion to move and while he saw it, he didn't want to give her the chance.

He didn't dare touch her, no, he placed a hand on either side of her against the brick wall.

She didn't tremble in fear of him or follow instinct to question him.

No, she stood there in the dark letting him process.

He was trying to make sense of what his mind wanted him to do and what he wanted to do.

It all boiled down to a bad idea the moment he stepped out of the hall.

It wasn't just following her that was the bad idea, it was the very fact he had to keep thinking about any of it that was the bad idea. There was still too much he hadn't considered and that much more he didn't want to consider.

No, he had had months to consider all the ways he could be angry at her. He had months to dig at every angle of every moment they had. He had months to question if the lies were just flat out lies or omissions of truth.

There had been days he couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't followed through with the worst and just met out his revenge for her lies.

The more the days slipped by, the more the thoughts were just things in his head and the more he didn't have the window to do anything against her.

"Draco?" There it was, Jean's worrying tone with Granger's damn voice.

"I said don't." He was furious and the seething anger was more than evident.

She didn't have a right to that tone with him.

Her voice was grating to his ears and he wouldn't have it ruin what senses he had.

Maybe out of instinct or maybe just the need to ensure she didn't take that tone, he stopped thinking.

In that clear second where bad ideas and good ideas compromised, his lips stopped caring that they found hers.

Whether she was shocked or not, he didn't stop to process.

Just like he didn't process his arms pulling her from the wall and wrapping around her waist.

He didn't process when she tried to push him off and he certainly didn't process when she stopped resisting.

In the dark alley, he saw Jean and he wanted to forget that it was Hermione he went looking for.

He wanted to forget that those curls he felt for years were that of the woman he mocked throughout his youth.

He wanted to forget the way she tilted her head when she was reading something interesting was the same knowitall posture he knew as a sign her guard was down.

He only remembered Jean and that was hard enough.

He missed Jean, he missed his life before.

He missed that contentment he had when he last held her. He missed that he never got to start this new year with a kiss with her. This time without Jean, with uncertainty and doubt was worse than the uncertainty and doubt from before.

He needed it to leave him. For all the good that they were together, it was misery to know that this was them apart. That this life where Jean no longer existed was wrong.