Hermione wakes with a sharp gasp and a flutter of her lashes. There is an initial moment of panic as she comes back to herself, then she is taking a deep breath and making a mental checklist, as per her morning ritual since the war.

I'm awake, no one is hurt, there were no nightmares, I'm in my own living room, there is someone beneath me.

Her brow furrows as she checks the last one off, her head lifting to look down at the place where her cheek had been pressed and finding a solid chest. It takes nearly a whole minute for her brain shake away the muddled mess that sleep had made it, but when she processes the situation, she screeches and tumbles off Malfoy. She groans from the floor, sorting herself out while Draco shoots up out of sleep and looks wildly around, his gaze falling last on her.

Draco's lips twitch upwards, so he purses them to cover the almost-smile. To keep up appearances, he schools his expression into a scowl and peers over the edge of the cushion at her. "Why did you wake me up?"

Hermione, already flushed and indignant, sat up straight and points at him. "Why were you sleeping with me?" After seeing the way his lips tilted up into a smirk, she snaps, "not like that, you revolting imp!" He chuckles as he props himself up on his elbows.

"If you must know, you fell asleep on me, so, being the perfect gentleman that I am, I didn't wake you up," he says. Hermione huffs and crosses her arms.

"Ignoring the fact that you even let me, a mudblood, touch you," she spits, "why on earth did you take your shirt off?"

He hides his grimace by looking down at his bare chest. "I got warm in the middle of the night and I was more comfortable with it off," he replies with a shrug. Spotting said shirt beside her, he reaches out to snatch it up, but is stopped short by a sharp pain shooting up his back. "Merlin's beard," he groans, mostly out of shock. Reaching around, he massages the knot in his back.

Hermione snorts, "hurts, doesn't it?" She'd already discovered a similar knot in her neck when she'd fallen. Draco rolls his eyes and carefully climbs to his feet. He stretches his arms above his head and bends backwards until there is a pop and the muscles burn with a borderline-painful ache. Hermione winces at the sound and rubs her neck to relieve the tension there.

"Your neck hurts? You must have laid on my chest wrong," he snarks, smirking at her blushing cheeks. When all she does is glare in response, he saunters away to the kitchen in search of food.

It's another minute before Hermione's neck feels well enough for her to move her head around. When she's as comfortable as she can get with the crick in her neck, she stands and follows after Draco, finding him making a bowl of cereal. "I see you managed to make one of the more simple muggle breakfasts," she says. Draco jumps in surprise, spilling the sugar-coated bits all over the counter. A moment of silence passes, then she retracts her earlier statement. "Perhaps you haven't, after all."

He is turning to shout at her when the familiar roar of flames cuts him off.

A bright voice calls her name, making Draco scowl as he cleans up his mess and Hermione grin at the new arrival. Harry bursts into the kitchen, bounding across the room and dragging her in to a tight hug. Hermione gasps and laughs, throwing her arms around her friend.

She exclaims, "Harry, so wonderful to see you too!" Harry lets her go, smiling all the while, until his eyes fall on Malfoy. All at once, a wall slams down and his eyes are flashing with fury.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?"

Without so much as a glance his way, Draco snatches his bowl and stalks towards the stairs. "Going upstairs, where i won't be bothered anymore. You two keep it down out here, don't do anything I wouldn't do, and for Merlin's sake, stay off the table. I eat there," he barks over his shoulder. The sly look he shoots back to Hermione leaves her red and sputtering for something to shout back. He was already gone though, door slamming behind him.

Hermione sighs and rubs her temples before turning to Harry. "I apologize for him. He's like a child if he's up too early and I'm still training him." Harry snorts as Hermione moves to brew coffee for them. "Speaking of it being early, why are you here on your day off? I figured you would sleep in, not be up before the sun hardly has risen." She turns around to face him, the coffee pot bubbling behind her, and notes the way his eyes don't quite meet hers.

"I volunteered to go in and help out with paperwork since they are so far behind," he mutters, picking at the hem of his shirt. Hermione narrows her eyes, not at all missing the dark circles under Harry's eyes and the pale hue his skin had taken.

She cries, "Harry James Potter! You can't keep doing this to yourself, all this constant work. You look like you haven't slept in weeks. You need to take a day off."

Harry protests, "you know I can't do that-"

"I disagree-"

He smacks his palm to the table, the loud crack making Hermione wince and close her eyes for a moment. Harry doesn't notice and she's terribly grateful when she opens her eyes again and sees this. "There is too much work to do, Hermione! I need to be there to help out."

She shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. "There are plenty others who can do it instead. You've done more than enough for them. Catching all those deatheaters, helping to rebuild Hogwarts. You defeated Voldemort for Merlin's sake! They should give you a whole year off for what you've done," she shouts, face reddening as she picks up the argument.

"I'm going to work," he says with finality, but Hermione wasn't one to let an argument go .

"You most certainly are not! You are going to go home and relax and I am going to owl the Minister himself, telling him that no one is to give you entrance to the building," she commands. "If you still refuse to listen and do try to go to work, then I will tell him to keep you out for a whole week, don't think I won't, Potter."

Despite himself, Harry can't help but laugh at the use of his last name. "You meddle far too much, you know?" Hermione deflates a little, lips parting as she takes a step backwards. "In a good way, though," he says quickly. "Like a mother."

Hermione relaxes and grins. "I'm not that old, Harry." She reaches out and smacks the back of his head. "But you are going home. If not for your sake, then for Ginny's. She wants you there with her sometimes, misses having you around when you're gone all day." Hermione grabs his hand and gives it a light squeeze.

He sighs and nods. "Alright, I'll stay home today." She cheers and hugs him quickly before darting away to pour him a cup of coffee in a travel mug and casting a charm to keep it from sloshing around.

"Get going then, now that there is no reason for you to be here. Go home and relax," she says, ushering him towards the fireplace. He takes the travel cup and steps into the fireplace, waving once before the green flames engulf him.

Giddy with the success of getting her friend to rest, Hermione rewards herself with a coffee and a bit of television. Upstairs, Draco was once again at his desk, reading the letter that had arrived while he was making his cereal.

Dearest Draco,

I am perfectly alright here, if only a bit upset over your actions at Miss Granger's home. This may be a punishment, but you are a guest in her home, and I expect you to act as civil as you have been taught. I ask that you let go of the petty vendetta that you had against her in school. You're a grown man now, and even if you are there because of a crime, you are no less of a well-raised man because of it. Don't let the crime your father coaxed you into committing against those muggles taint your image any more than it already has, and don't let his blood prejudice ideals affect you anymore. You know better than that, Draco, and I expect to hear only good news from now on.

Write back soon dear, I hope to see your letter by tomorrow morning.

With love,

Narcissa Malfoy

Draco smiles at the swooping letters and light penmanship as he runs a finger of the words, absently wishing to see his mother again.

Narcissa was far from being similar to her husband, and only stayed legally wed to him so as to not further ruin their family name. She truly cared for her son and did everything she could to protect him from Lucius' wrath.

Even she couldn't keep the letters that her husband was sending to Draco though. It was through this small form of communication that Lucius had forced Draco into attacking a small group of Muggles with-mostly harmless-jinxes. The Wizengamot did not care to hear how minor the damage was, or how he'd been forced into the act with a threat. The result was his punishment, and Narcissa could do nothing to protect him then.

Sighing, Draco reaches for a fresh sheet of paper and dips the pen into the inkwell.

Dear Mother,

I understand your anger, and I am working on acting better. You know better than anyone how hard I work towards moving away from what he had wanted me to be. Hermione brings out the side of me that he had created, and I draw out a fury from her as well, but Merlin only knows what's caused that for her.

We have been better though. Arguing still, but no matter what I attempt, that can't be helped. They aren't so cruel though, more a fight of wits than a battle to harm. It's not as pleasant as one might hope in my situation, but the biting words are less than what I deserve for what I did to be here. I've no room to complain. I'll keep working towards making peace though, and that's as good as I can give for a promise to be better.

From, Draco.

He scans the letter before nodding his approval and folding it up to take down to Hermione's owl and settles back to eat his now soggy cereal.