Draco feigned shock and she took the bait. “Granger? You live here?” It was stupid question, he knew she lived here. He went out of his way and spent a lot of money to have the old tenant kicked out so he could move in all in one day. She didn’t need to know that though.

“Y-y-yes!” she squeaked. “And you?”

“Yes. I do,” he replied, trying with every ounce of his self-control not to smirk as he still feigned shock.

“What happened to old man Oakes?”


“The quite lively older gentleman that lived here yesterday. He never told me anything about moving…”

Draco shrugged. “Maybe he past?”

Hermione snorted. She couldn’t help to think that Draco was being an insensitive prat, but somehow she wanted to smile in amusement. She could not encourage him, though, or worst give away that she was still very much in love with him. A simple gesture of a smile could mean many things, but Draco was clever enough. “I am sure he did not past, Malfoy,” she said in a scolding tone.  

Again, Draco shrugged, suppressing a smirk. “Maybe he had other important things to attend to outside the vicinity of London, eh?”

She rolled her eyes, a ghost of a smile appearing. “Do not ‘eh’ me. Anyway, I hope you are comfortable here. Everyone is friendly so please do not be hesitant to ask for anything. Good night, Draco.”

“Good night,” he smirked cunningly at her back as he opened the door.

He would make sure he was anything, but hesitant to ask. So, later that night at around eleven at night, he took advantage of her words. He knocked on her door and as he waited, he pressed his ear against the door to hear her shuffle. Once he knew she was at the door, he pulled back, waiting. Hermione swung the door open and he just wanted to drool. She was in tight-fitting harem gray sweats and a clingy tank top with no bra. His eyes immediately dropped down to her chest, every curve and detail visible.


His eyes shot up to hers.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

He cleared his throat nervously. “I need sugar.”

Sugar?” she repeated.

“Er—yeah. Sugar for—um—coffee.”

“You intend on making coffee at eleven at night so you can stay up for what exactly?”

She was suspicious as anyone else would be. He wanted to slap himself right on the forehead for being stupid. What did this girl do to him for him to lose all his cleverness and more so, his common sense? He replied quickly, “I have to stay up and work on a few things from—erum, work.”

She nodded like she did not believe a word he was saying. “Malfoy, you do know weekends are for relaxation?” Hermione sighed. “Come in.” She stepped aside and he entered. Her flat looked like he imagined it to be, cozy. A red-brown leather couch sat with cream fluffy plush couch pillows and a furry blanket draped over it. He noticed a TV, he was sure that what they were called that, was on. Surrounding the TV was a dark wood, large, one-piece, bookshelf, each spot housing a different book. He smiled at the shelf, thinking, Just like her. He followed her to the kitchen which pretty much looked exactly like his except for the décor. It had sleek cream cabinets with red-brown marble tops. Draco set his measuring cup on the island as he watch her go on her tippy toes to reach the sugar.

“Do you need help?” he asked.

“No,” she huffed. “I’m fine.”

With slow grace, he walked behind her and reached up for the sugar that her fingers were brushing against. He gave it to her as she looked frustrated and flustered.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. “How much is it that you need?”

He shrugged. “Enough for two cups.”

She poured a little sugar in his measuring cup.

“You remember how I like my coffee?” he asked somberly.

Her eyes shot up, widening. “Oh, yes… That should be enough for two.”

“For me it should be enough for two cups because you remember how I like my coffee.”

“I suppose…”

“Do you remember how old man Oakes likes his coffee?”

“No,” she replied slowly.

“How about the Weasel?”


“So, only mine?”

She nodded slowly, but thoughtfully, trying to figure out what he was trying to get at. He lifted the measuring cup in thanks. “Thank you again. Have a good night.” He briskly left, leaving a confused Hermione


Hermione barely slept knowing Draco was right next door to her. It was difficult, knowing something was reachable yet nowhere near attainable. As she made herself tea, she rubbed her eyes hard, knowing they must be red from the lack of deep sleep, but she refused to look in a mirror. The teapot whistled and she poured the boiling hot water into a mug. She dipped the pouch of herbs from the tea into the mug and walked out onto the tiny balcony with both hands on the mug.


Hermione jerked from surprise as Draco was leaning on the railing of his balcony. He was shirtless despite the slight chilly air , but he at least had on sweats that hung off his waist. It was a tactical move on his part as he wanted to make sure she saw him looking as attractive as he could be.

“Hi,” she whispered loud enough for him to hear. She blew on her tea before taking a sip that warmed her entire body.

“Thanks for the sugar again.” He held up his mug for a few seconds to show her.

“Yes, no problem.”

“Any plans for today?”

Heat burned her cheeks in a blush and she quickly said, embarrassed, “I have a date with Ron! At six tonight!” It was really a stupid thing to say in a hurry, but she did want Draco to think she had no life since him and has been home almost every day all day.

Draco flushed in frustration. “Do you?” he grumbled. “Where is he taking you?”

“Just downstairs to the bar next door. Something simple to just relax and have fun.”

“So, you been dating him?” he asked with a hard look.

She shrugged. “Here and there,” she lied.

“Well, I hope to see there.”

“See me there?”

“Oh yeah,” he nodded. “I have a date too. We intend on going there around the same time.”

That was a lie for now until he could find someone and he knew the perfect someone: the tenant next door to him. She was hot, not in a beautiful way, but in a way every man would want her for one night. She was Muggle, he was sure of it, but she would be someone women easily feel threatened by. Her raven hair was styled into asymmetrical bob that reached her shoulders. Her eyes were brightest, but palest blue and she had a rack like no other.

“Oh…” said Hermione casually. “Who?”   

“Lisa,” he replied simply.

“Oh, like Lisa from next door to you?”


Hermione nodded thoughtfully, looking away from him so he would not notice the tears that sprung to her eyes. She sniffed lowly before saying, “I will see you later then, Malfoy. If I don’t I hope you thoroughly enjoy your date.”

“You too, Granger.”

But it would be nothing like that.


 Draco entered with Lisa’s arm wrapped around his, talking nonstop to the point he was ready to just run. But his desire to see Hermione was just too strong to actually abandon Lisa at the moment. As long as he could remember, there was always a spotlight on her in his vision. He noticed her immediately. Her hair was in a curly bun at the side with waves falling playfully out. She had a true red dress with a low scooped back and her red platform pumps had a bow wrapped around her ankles. He wanted to pounce on her like she was a Christmas present, ready to wrap and reveal its ravishing. Bright red-orangey hair clashed with her beauty and Draco couldn’t help, but to scowl. He moved toward the with eagerness and sat on the tall bar table next to the two. Hermione slightly turned, catching his eye and forced a smile. Ron turned as well, but was not so kind.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?”  Ron growled.

“On a date.”

“Couldn’t find a ferret hole to go to?”

“Ron!” scolded Hermione. She looked at Lisa who had v-neck skater dress with the neck dipping far down to almost her navel and her cleavage popping out, ready to break free from the dress. “I’m sorry, Lisa. And to you as well, Malfoy.”

She laughed uneasily. “It’s fine.”

“Don’t be civil to him,” Ron snapped.

“Ron, it’s called respect.”

“No, need for that. Not only was he a bully, an enemy to you, but he’s your ex-husband!”

Lisa stared at Hermione in more unease than ever before. She then turned to Draco. “Oh, you two were married?”

“Uh, well, yes,” mumbled Draco, slicking back his hair in stress.

“He was a terrible husband,” grumbled Ron.

“Oh, because you were married to him, Ronald. So, you would know,” she snapped.

“What are you getting mad at me for?” demanded Ron with a pink face. “I am speaking the truth.”

“Ronald, you don’t know the truth. How you just assume these things?” she cried shrilly as Draco and Lisa stared at her with no restraint. “You are always saying things you don’t know. Merlin, Ron, like last week when I overheard you tell Harry that you will be sure to get me back! How could you know such a thing? Did I ever give you a reason to think that?”

“Well, I am right!” shouted Ron back. “We are here now!”

“And I’m regretting it!”

“OH!” he bellowed. “You regret it? So, you rather be with the little pale ferret?”

“There you go again!” she snapped. “I never said that either! But as of right now, I would rather be with my ex-husband than you! You are so stubborn sometimes, Ron! And speak of things you don’t know!”

“Fine,” he snapped back at her. “Then, I’m leaving, Her-mion-e!” Like he said, Ron pushed through the crowd and stormed out.

Hermione let out a small frustrated groan before she realized both Lisa and Draco were gawking at her wide eyes. “I’m going to the bar. Enjoy your date,” she grumbled and stalked off.

Draco stood up, watching her go. Without even turning to Lisa, he said, “I’m sorry, Lisa. But I need to go after her.”

Lisa touched his hand gently and he gazed at her. “I understand. I am glad I could help. Hopefully, you two can be together again. You must really love her. I saw it when we walked in. Your eyes wouldn’t move from her. Good luck, my friend.” She giggled and patted his hand before walking away too.

Draco took a deep breath in before following Hermione and sliding into the bar stool beside her.

“What do you want, Malfoy? Can’t I drown in my misery?”

“Open a tab,” said Draco to the barman. “And hit me with the hardest stuff you got.” Draco did not utter a word to Hermione until he had the glass cup in his hand. He clanked his glass against Hermione’s which surprised her. “Here is to drowning in misery.” He took a gulp. The alcohol burned his throat, but it was refreshing in a way for him like old times. “Do you have any regrets?” he asked.

She snorted, “Many.”

“So, do I…”

She shook her head. “Why don’t I feel good?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, staring at her.

She looked up at him. “Alcohol is supposed to make you feel good like how I felt on New Year’s Eve. Why don’t I feel good?”

His lips twitch into a smirk. “Well, Hermione, if you want to end up like on New Year’s Eve then maybe it’s best that you don’t. You were a handful. You’re a handful drunk.”

She smiled, “Handful drunk?”

“Yeah, I’m the angry drunk.”

She giggled, “You are so right. But I have to admit on New Year’s Eve you were fun.”

His gray eyes darkened and he replied huskily, “You were fun.”

“I had fun.”

“It was fun especially that one bit at the end of the night.”

“I would like to experience that again,” she teased, throwing all her dignity away.

“Oh? Would you now? Because I was thinking along the same lines. The question what are the chances of that happening again?”

“I would hope it would be very high, Mr. Malfoy.”

“As do I, Miss Granger.”

“So, what are we going to do about it?” she asked seductively.

“My apartment or yours?” he asked gravely.


Draco took a sharp breath and hopped off the barstool. He left fifty pounds and laced his fingers with Hermione, pulling her out of the bar. He entered the next building over as they jogged up the steps, Hermione’s heels clicking away. Draco stopped as the door way as she fervently opened it. She stepped inside as so did he, shutting the door behind them. He stared her down greedily and he said huskily, “Room.” She nodded down the hall and left with him intently trailing behind her, watching her hips sway in the tight red dress.

Once in the room, there was no holding back. He cupped her face, pressing his lips hungrily against hers. A fire of passion burning in him, roaring with each second her soft lips was on hers. Hermione felt an exploding desire rumbling in her underbelly, wanting nothing more to satisfy the craving. His hands slipped down to her shoulders, gently slipping the straps of the dress down until it fell to the floor. With one hand, Hermione pushed him off so she could step out. Draco did not return his lips to hers. He stared at her in amazement, waiting. Her hands were excited as she unbuttoned his shirt and unbuckled his pants. Draco stepped out of his shoes and pants as their eyes softened at the familiarity of each other’s bodies. 

“I want you,” he said huskily.

“And I want you.”


She remembered Draco’s question to her last night, “Do you have any regrets?” The question rang in her mind endlessly and every answer was, “I have a new one.” She sighed heavily, leaning on the kitchen’s counter and embraced herself. It was a foolish thing to do. She did not only have a one-night stand with her ex-husband, but a man she was still very much in love with. It was too complicated. She scoffed at the new thought, “Don’t forget he is your boss now too.”


She jumped, surprised by the mumble. “Morning,” she replied stiffly.

He stretched with morning groan as he almost naked except for his green boxer briefs tight on his thighs. “How was your night?” He smiled and it made Hermione want to melt.

She looked away shyly and nodded.

He sighed. “Hermione, listen about last night—”

“Last night won’t happen ever again.”

Immediately, he looked hurt and offended. “Yeah, I remember, feelings between us aren’t mutual. I almost forgot.”

She scoffed, “How can you not forget? Was last night an act for you too?”

What?” he barked. “Don’t be so stupid, Granger. I was never the one acting between us and you fucking know that!”

I—I was acting?” she cried shrilly. “When was I acting?”

“When-when-when you were acting?” he boomed. “I don’t know, Granger. This entire fucking time. You fucking lied to me. You never loved me! And I was stupid enough to fall so fucking hard for you! And fuck! I still love you. I am still fucking madly in love with you. I can’t get you out of my head. I can’t get over you because I love you too much and I swear I forever will!”

Hermione became silent for a bit with wide eyes, filled with salty lakes. “Draco… I was never acting. I never lied, ever. When I said the words, ‘I love you,’ I meant with all my heart and still mean it.”

“So, why tell Potter you wanted a divorce?” he yelled.

“I told Harry I didn’t want a divorce. When he asked me, I told him clearly, ‘A divorce is not what I want.’ And it hurt me so much to hear that you wanted one. I couldn’t believe it. I thought I was going to die from the heartache.”

Draco walked to her, slamming his palm onto the counter. He pointed at her then pointed at himself at the same time he said, “You love me?”



“Yes,” she replied.

“And I love you,” he said with such serious eyes. “So, why did we divorce?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I never wanted that. I wish it would have never happened.”

“Me too… There were misunderstandings.”

“There was…” she whispered as a tears escaped and ran down the hill of her cheek.

“Hermione Granger…”

“Yes?” she sniffed.

“It sounded better when it was Hermione Malfoy. Can we please change it back?” He went down on one knee and grasped her hand, caressing her knuckles. “Will you marry me again?... ‘Till death do us part this time for real?”

A/N: Hey everyone! So, I hope this seemed rushed... AND we only have too chapters to go =) 

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