8. Chapter 8

Edited 24/4/2020

Original A/N: Hello guys! Here's the next chapter! I have some cool other news, by the way. I wrote a cute little Dramione oneshot yesterday, called Nobody's Last Resort (go check it out). Anyway, this morning I got a message saying someone wanted to translate it into Hebrew! How neat is that? Anyway, check that out, I was so excited when I got the message. Moving on from that, here's the next chapter. Thanks for following, favouriting and reviewing. Thanks to my fantastic beta, and all you readers. Keep being awesome.

Disclaimer: Fanfiction, means fans write it. That's all I am, a fan of the glorious Jo Rowling. I don't own the characters. Or the setting, I don't own Canada.

At four o'clock, Draco stood in front of that Tim Hortons at Yonge and Bloor. His hands were in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels, looking around for Hermione. Her bushy hair was nowhere in sight. Draco felt his nerves set in. She needed to show up. She couldn't just disappear again. He checked his watch every five seconds while he waited anxiously.

He was just checking his watch for the three hundred and ninety fourth time when someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned around.

There stood Hermione, her hair slightly wild and her eyes twinkling. She was wearing dark jeans with a nice black tank top. Her hair was everywhere, but unlike their school days, it no longer looked like an animal had died on top of her head. It was windswept, majestically wild, framing her heart shaped face. Her big, bright eyes were looking up at him. He had never noticed how deep those brown irises went. He swore he could see right down into her soul. There was a smile on her face, which seemed to light up the entire world.

Draco's heart stopped, stuttered, and sped up again, pounding faster than it had before he had seen her. He quickly became lightheaded, which was stupid because it was Granger. It was the bloody bookworm he had teased for years, and who had punched him in the face. It was the muggleborn who had been tortured on the Manor floor. It was the little nerdy Gryffindork who had beat him in every subject. It was the girl who had been every teacher's pet but Snape's.

This was Hermione Granger. His heart shouldn't pound from simply looking at her. Hell, his heart shouldn't pound from anything related to her.

Wrong. Weird. There was no reason for this. It's not as if he liked Hermione or anything. He never had. Ever. He shivered.

Canada was driving him mad.

"Hey Draco," she said, breaking into his reverie. She smiled widely at him and he returned it effortlessly.

"Hello Hermione," he said. "Shall we?" he asked, opening the door to the coffee shop.

"We shall," she replied, nodding as she walked through the door, Draco following her closely.

"How was your day?" she asked him, as they waited in line. Draco was inhaling the scent of the store. It was basically a bakery with coffee as well. He began salivating for a doughnut he saw sitting behind the counter. It looked glorious.

"It was fine," he replied shrugging, tearing his eyes away from the doughnut. "Did a bunch of non-specific company stuff."

"Non-specific?" she asked, catching his use of the word.

"Everything business-related looks and sounds the same after several years of working."

Hermione snorted. A twinkle appeared in her eyes. "You must be a real businessman."

Draco smiled. "You'd be surprised."

From there, Draco and Hermione fell into a conversation easily. This wasn't the forced small talk he hated so much or had hated before Canada had made him polite.

This conversation flowed but wasn't stocked with meaningless sentences. They had no problem keeping a subject or switching between topics. There were never any awkward silences, not a single one. It was incredible. Even his conversations with Blaise didn't flow as effortlessly as this one did. After years of hating each other, cursing each other, and only ever speaking when they were trading insults, they were able to speak comfortably. Talking to Hermione felt as natural as breathing.

It seemed to Draco that this was a fresh start for their relationship. Everything that had caused a rift between them, namely his pureblood supremacy and their different houses at Hogwarts, had disappeared along with her memory.

Without those things, Draco was surprised to learn that they genuinely liked each other. After twenty minutes of chatting amicably as if they were old friends, Draco had a sudden realization. Perhaps if there hadn't been those rifts and those meaningless differences, they would have actually been old friends, instead of just acting like it.

Draco could see himself becoming friends with Hermione, for many reasons. She felt like an equal when it came to comebacks and intellect, two things that held a special place in his heart.

Draco sighed. Strangely, he felt sad, as if he missed the friendship they'd never had. He shook off the foreign emotion and went back to listening to Hermione. It made him wonder if it would've been this easy to talk to each other ten years ago.

Throughout their conversation, Draco put together a good image of Hermione's muggle doppelgänger. It was quite amusing. It was basically the same girl, but with no magic involved. She was still obsessed with books. She was a huge civil rights advocate, just like her stupid association SPEW. She was obviously an introvert, just like she had been in school. She was still very intelligent; he could tell from her word choice. The Hermione he knew had survived.

Hermione was now living happily in the muggle world, apparently. She was working as a secretary in some big corporation downtown, ironically, only blocks from the Malfoy Industries office. It was a little chilling for Draco to hear about her life, knowing that magic wasn't a part of it. It was unnatural. It was wrong. Hermione belonged in the magical world.

For Draco, thinking that Hermione belonged in the magical world was a strange and foreign concept. When the thought had first crossed his mind, he spat out some of his coffee, which, by the way, was excellent.

The idea shocked him. He had spent so many years believing the opposite. Muggleborns being in the magical world was an atrocity, an abomination of nature. This was the environment he had grown up in and the beliefs that he had held for so long.

Now, it became clear how wrong that had been. How wrong he had been. Hermione was the most magical person he had ever met, even though her ancestry suggested otherwise.

The thought caused him to have an epiphany. Hermione without magic, this was the real atrocity, this was the abomination of nature. Draco saw that clearly now.

After the war, Draco had managed to get over his prejudices somewhat, but they had never really disappeared. They were always there, lingering in the back of his mind, fighting to emerge in his everyday life. He had tried to get over them, he really had, but he had never been able to. Until now.

Hermione was living proof that his beliefs were wrong. She was meant to be magical, heritage be damned. Draco felt a rush of air go through him. His old beliefs evaporated on the spot. His vision cleared. The world seemed to brighten. He felt liberated. The pure blood supremacy that had been weighing him down for years had evaporated. Now it was absolutely and truly gone. All thanks to Hermione.

After a few hours of talking about random subjects and her life in Toronto, they got around to the subject of Draco's life and past. He'd been trying to avoid the topic, keeping the conversation focused on her. He became immediately wary when the first question was asked, knowing he had to tread lightly around her.

"Ummm, well," he started, when she had asked him about his early life. "I grew up in England." With those words, Hermione began to gaze dreamily into the distance.

"I've always wanted to go to England. It seems like such a beautiful country."

Draco nodded, smiling dryly. He tried not to let a single emotion flicker on his face, or it'd be suspicious. He quickly continued with his early life story.

He told Hermione about living in a Manor, going to an 'elite' boarding school, and then starting his business. He tried to give no specifics, keeping it vague. Maybe she'd think he was being mysterious. Girls liked that. At least he thought so, which meant it was true.

"What does your business do?" she asked curiously.

"Ummm… business stuff," he replied hastily, not going into details. Mysterious was good. Hermione smiled slightly.

"Business stuff… specific," she replied, chuckling a bit. "What was your boarding school like?"

"Well," Draco started, trying to keep his emotions in check. This was going to be a hard conversation. "It was in Scotland. It was in a big old castle that someone had converted into a boarding school. We all stayed in big dormitories… we got to visit the village sometimes…"

"What was it called?" Hermione asked, interested.

"Hogwarts," Draco blurted out hopefully. No recognition graced her face. Damn it, Draco sighed. He hadn't really been expecting anything, but he couldn't help but hope that she'd remember the name of her home of six years.

"Strange name for a school," she mused.

"It was a strange school," Draco stated honestly. At least, it would've been strange by muggle Hermione's standards. They both laughed at his joke, and Draco subtly changed the subject. They easily conversed once more.

Before Draco knew it, he had been talking to Hermione for four hours. One of the Tim Hortons' employees eventually asked them to leave, loitering and such. They ended up wandering around downtown Toronto. They were still chatting, amazingly. They had not run out of topics to burn through.

However, everything had an end. After an hour of wandering the streets, Hermione told him she had to go.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed. The Canadian in her showed once more. "I have some work I've got to get done, and I don't have any time tomorrow."

"I understand," Draco nodded, trying not to show his disappointment at her departure on his face.

"Oh, Draco, before I go" Hermione started, seeming nervous. She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "Can I ask you a favour?"

"Sure," Draco responded, trying to hide his shock. What favour would the Hermione Granger need from him? What favour would a Gryffindor need from a Slytherin? This had to be a first in Wizarding history.

"Well… ummm… I have this formal gala tomorrow. It's a work thing, I honestly don't understand it. Anyway, I was wondering, would you possibly accompany me? My ex-boyfriend is going to be there, and I don't really want to face him alone."

"Ex-boyfriend?" Draco asked, curiously.

"Yep," Hermione grimaced at the memory. "We were together for a couple years, and then he cheated on me. Turns out he'd been cheating on me almost the entire time we were together. He works in the company, and luckily I've been able to avoid him since. But tomorrow there's no way I can get around seeing his stupid ginger head."

"Ginger?" Draco asked, disbelieving. He must have heard her wrong.

"Yep," she said, grimacing even more. "The bastard's a redhead, covered with freckles. I used to think they were cute, but now I can't stand the sight of them, on anyone for that matter. I'm glad I only have a few."

Draco stared, trying not to laugh. She hadn't only mugglefied her life, but her friends and relationships as well. Her best girlfriend was probably just a muggle Weaslette and there must be a muggle Potter running around causing mischief. And of course, the Weasel. Screw that stupid muggle version of Weasley for breaking her heart.

"Well," Draco smirked, a plan unfolding in his mind. This was going to be fun. "I'll come. And I will make Weasle…uhhh… the weasel who cheated on you exceptionally jealous. Who wouldn't be when their ex-girlfriend is going to a gala with this," he smirked as he gestured towards his body.

Hermione burst out laughing. It took her several moments to gain control of herself. Still chortling, she was able to choke out a comeback.

"You keep on believing that, Draco."

"Hey!" he responded, slightly offended. He sighed, and let it slide anyway. "So what time am I picking you up tomorrow?"

"Seven, at this address, if you could," she replied, handing him another slip of paper. Did she just walk around with her personal information written down on little pieces of paper in her pockets? "It's formal, so wear a tux, please."

"No problem, Hermione," Draco smiled. "I'll be there."

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks Draco, I really do appreciate it." He returned the smile.

"See you tomorrow," she waved at him and walked away, quickly disappearing into a crowd of people.

Draco turned around and headed back to his hotel, whistling on his way. He felt strangely joyful. Hermione had asked him to help make her ex-boyfriend, the Weasel of the muggle world, jealous. He couldn't help it, he was excited. He had always hated the Weasel, even more than he had hated Potter. Now, he got to screw with the muggle version. This was fantastic.

He arrived at the hotel and quickly got to his room. He flopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, plotting all the different ways he could ruin the Weasel's night. However, one question reigned supreme in his mind.

Why would Hermione fall for the goddamn Weasel King, not only in the magical world, but in the muggle as well? He had no redeeming character traits, he couldn't hold an intelligent conversation to save his life, and he wasn't attractive in any way, shape, or form. His stupid freckles were distorting and his head looked like it was on fire all the time. How had Hermione liked this guy? And then again when she had no memories…

Hermione was smart, charming, kind, and beautiful. She deserved so much better than the Weasel, so why did she fall for him in every possible world? Draco rolled over, his eyes drifting shut.

She deserved so much better.

Original A/N: Review please :)