Chapter one.

Stepping out of the fire place, Draco Malfoy brushed a hand down his Italian suit. Glancing at his watch, a gift he had received when he turned seventeen, he let out a low groan. It was already half past five. He had an hour to finish his proposal for his meeting with Minister Shackelbolt, before he was due to meet Blaise Zabini for drinks.

Crossing the room, he lowered his tall frame behind his desk. His chair squeaking as he settled against it. Running a hand through his fine, blonde hair, he pulled a file from the bottom drawer. Opening the file he flipped through the pages he had written the previous day.

"By now, the story of Tom Riddle has been learned by all. A powerful child was raised an orphan in a neglectful muggle environment. As a child, his mother too was raised by a neglectful, and at times abusive father. She in turn, was raised in a wizarding environment.

Would their lives had turned out different had they been nurtured? Been kept safe? Been understood?

I, Draco L. Malfoy, am requesting the approval of the Wizengamot to build a safe house for all those of the magical community who are need of protection. Be it physical, or environmental..."

After reading through the five page proposal, and correcting the few grammatical mistakes he had missed before, Draco tossed the parchment back in the desk. Sighing, he turned to study the dying fire. It was good, no doubt about that. But was it good enough to convince the Minister? Grabbing his wand, Draco accio'ed a small tumbler and a bottle of firewhiskey. He poured a small amount into the glass before vanishing the bottle.

He took a sip, letting the burn of Ogdens finest slide down his throat. Contemplating the success rate of his proposal, Draco turned the glass in his hand. It could, potentially, change the wizarding world. A magical safe house. Orphaned kids, abused wives; they'd have a place to go. They wouldn't be forced to be surrounded by all the violence the world had to offer. They could escape. Who wouldn't want that in their community? Shackelbolt is all about making wizarding London a 'safer tomorrow.'

Rolling his shoulders, he stood before tossing back the remainder of his drink. Shrugging off the grey jacket he wore, he pulled the tie from around his neck, before placing them both over the back of his desk chair. Glancing again at his watch, Draco let out a curse before turning on the spot.

x-X-x

'White, or red?'

'Hmm?' Glancing up from the baby in her arms, Hermione Granger smiled at her oldest friend. 'Red, please. I can't believe how much James looks like you, Harry.'

Chuckling, the tall man agreed. 'It's the hair. Poor kid has got the mess already.'

Smiling fondly, Hermione gently ran a finger through the infants soft locks. 'Hopefully he'll manage it better.'

Placing the wine on the closest table to his friend, Harry grinned, 'doubtful. It's the Potter curse. Did you see, he's got his mums eyes?'

Meeting the gaze of the three-month old in her arms, Hermione smiled. Unblinking chocolate eyes stared into her own. 'They have Ginnys warmth already.' She trailed a finger across his cheek, laughing when he tried capturing it between his lips.

Ginny Potter entered the room, floating a tray in front of her. 'I've brought substance.' She sang out, grinning at her husband and best friend. Lowering the tray to the coffee table between the two, she said, 'white chocolate macadamia. From the best baker I know!'

Laughing at the single plate of cookies on the tray, Harry looked at his wife. 'What? I just thought Hermiones cookies deserved the flourish of the fancy tray.'

'Yeah, Harry!' Hermione giggled, 'my cookies deserved to be served on the fanciest of trays!'

Holding his hands up, Harry laughed. 'I never said they didn't.' After snagging a cookie, Harry scooped the baby out of the brunettes arms. 'Come here little man. Us guys gotta stick together.' After settling back in his chair, his son resting in his arms, he asked Hermione about her shop.

'Great!' She replied, grinning hugely. I'm considering hiring some help. Part-time of course.' Taking a drink of her wine, she told them, 'I've actually just signed on to do the Zabini/Parkinson wedding.'

'Slytherins?' Harry asked, with a scoff. 'Gee, Hermione. Have fun with that.'

Laughing, Ginny rolled her eyes at her husband. 'Careful Harry, you sound like my brother.'

'Which one?' He asked, cheekily.

Laughing with the young couple, Hermione tucked her feet under herself. 'We're, and by that I mean myself, am trying to keep an open mind about the world. And the people we graduated with. Especially, the people we graduated with.' The last part was said under her breath, more to herself than her company.

'Once a snake, always a snake.' Harry stated, looking into the warm eyes of his son. Smiling softly, he watched the infant boy yawn. 'Just becareful, please?'

Touched, Hermione smiled sadly at her friend, 'I always am.'

Once the baby fell asleep, the three decided a movie would best entertain their evening. As they settled down, Harry and Ginny took the couch, under a red and hold afghan, made by the matriarch Weasley. While Hermione curled up in the chair recently vacated, and pulled a thick wool blanket around herself.

The opening credits of the 1946 film, The Time of Their Lives, a favorite of Ginnys, filled the screen. Hermione smiled fondly at the couple across from her, before turning back to the movie. Staring at the tv, she let her mind wander.

It had been seven years since the war ended. Seven years since Voldemort fell. Since they lost Fred. Remus, Tonks. Closing her eyes, she felt her chest tighten. It always did when she thought about their fallen friends. She thought of all the lessons Remus, her once professor turned friend, had taught her. His calm, quiet voice echoing in her head.

His words from the last conversation the two had privately shared, sounded in her head:

'Obliviate? I understand how that could be of use to you, Hermione. And excuse me, I'm not trying to pry, but I'm curious as to why you've come to me about it?'

Shrugging her shoulders, she avoided his perceptive eyes. 'It seems like a useful tool to have in these coming times. And I trust your help.'

Tucking his fingers into the pockets of his tan trousers, Remus Lupin appraised the young woman in front of him. Giving a single nod, he said, 'the first thing you need to remember, is too keep a calm, cool head. Any nerves or stress risk the charm going wrong.'

'Like Lockheart?'

'Exactly like Lockhart.' Rubbing his chin, he looked at her with narrowed eyes. 'The calmer you are increases the chance of removal. If, in the future, you wish to do so. The chance of successfully lifting this charm, with no lasting damage to the recipient is -'

'I know.' Allowing his gaze to finally capture her own, she said, 'I've read the entire theory. I know the statistics, the risks. I appreciate your opinion, and respect you, Remus. I just - I need to learn the practical. No matter where I've searched, I can't seem to find it.'

'Messing with the human mind is extremely dangerous. I'm not surprised you had trouble coming across the wand work.' Standing up, he instructed her to pick up her wand. Walking her through the steps, he adjusted her arm before nodding. 'You've go it.'

'Remus?'

'I understand, Hermione.' He gave her a sad smile. 'Do it.'

'Thank you.' Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. 'This is the only way I can think to keep them safe.' Meeting his gaze once again, she saw the understanding in his eyes, before quietly saying, 'oblivate.'

'Hermione?'

Jumping slightly, Hermione lifted her eyes from the black and white credits on the screen. Frowning, 'sorry, I guess I spaced out.'

Harry nodded at his wife, asleep in his arms, 'we noticed. Do you wanna talk about it?'

Chewing on her bottom lip, Hermione looked at her hands. 'This weekend is my dad's birthday. I called my mum earlier this afternoon, too see if I could take them out to dinner sometime. She said they already had plans. But - I could hear him in the background.' Looking up, Harry saw the tears in her eyes. 'It's been five years. When is he gonna forgive me? I just wanted to keep them safe.'

"Mione, I - '

'It's okay, thank you though!' Jumping to her feet, the girl gave a shaky smile to her friend. 'I appreciate you listening.' She said, while wiping at a single tear rolling down her cheek. 'I should get going. Early morning tomorrow.' She said, before rushing from the room.

'Hermione, wait!' Harry called after her, trying to gently move Ginny from his lap without waking her. Just as he stood, he heard the distinct sound of appiration.

x-X-x

Draco sat in the roof of the Eagles Nest. A new bar in downtown muggle London. Looking at the open sky above him, he shook his head. 'Sure beats the stuffy Leaky.'

Laughing, the tanned man on Dracos left raised his glass of firewhiskey in a toast. 'That it does. Leave it to a Ravenclaw to conceal the new spot smack middle of London.'

Signaling for another round to a passing waitress, Draco asked his friend, 'this is Terry Boots place, right?'

Groaning, Blaise Zabini shook his head. 'Don't remind me man. Boot came to me about, oh seven, eight months ago. Looking for investors. Laughed in his face, I did.' Nodding his thanks to the returning waitress, Zabini shook his head again. 'Who'd have thought the Wizarding world's poshest bar would be above the London Library?'

Nodding his head in acknowledgment, Draco pointed out, 'Alot of stores are cropping up throughout the city though.'

'Pans actually has an appointment with the baker tomorrow. Over on Ryder street.'

'A muggle baker?'

'No. She got the place from her mother. That woman isn't about to allow any muggle cake at her only daughters wedding.' Blaise said, glancing at the entrance just as his fiance walked onto the roof.

Grinning, Pansy Parkinson crossed to them quickly, her black hair tied back at the nape of her neck. 'Hey, sorry I'm late!' She paused, and dropped a kiss to her fiance. 'It was a crazy day.' Pansy was apprenticing for Mr Ollivander, and spent the day searching the Cairngorms National Park for a specific Scottish Wildcat. Ollivander believed that he could bend a Wildcats whisker to channel the magic of someone gentle. The only problem, they didn't have a whisker.

'I hear that.' Blaise responded, before grabbing the slender woman's hand. He interlocked their fingers before saying, 'we were just talking about the bakery your mum hired to make our cake.'

'Vanilla Dreams?'

'Yeah. Uh - you know that tasting you have scheduled for tomorrow?'

'Yes?' She asked, a single dark brow raised.

'The thing is, something came up with an investment that's going to have me stuck in meetings all day tomorrow.'

Pouting, Pansy scrunched her nose. 'Boo. I understand.' Looking at the blonde across from her, she remembered his addiction to cake. Grinning, she asked, 'Draco, what are you doing tomorrow?'

'Uh.. why don't you go by yourself?' Draco hedged. He liked Pansy, he did. She was one of his oldest friends. But she was alot to handle, he thought wryly.

'Because, if you must know, the wedding is next month. And my dress is a smidge tight. If I go to the tasting alone, I won't be able to stop myself. And I'm so close! You know my sweet tooth!'

Laughing, Blaise smirked at his best friend. 'Like he'd do any better.'

'Hey!' Draco cried in fake outrage. 'I've got self control, thank you.'

'Self control?' Blaise snorted, 'mate, please. Remember that time in fifth year, you ate an entire cake to yourself. In one sitting!'

'Uh, I'm pretty sure you can't judge me, ya twat. You sat right beside me with your own cake!'

Laughing, Blaise shook his head. 'I didn't eat the whole thing though!'

Rubbing the back of his neck, Draco gave an impish grin, 'Gods. That was a good cake,' he said. Thinking back, he sighed, 'I've yet to have frosting like that again.'

'Where did you get them again?' Pansy asked, placing her elbow on the table, chin craddeled in her hand.

'The kitchen!' Blaise replied. 'We had nipped down for some munchies, and there sat ten of the most attractive cakes I've ever seen.'

Nodding his head, Draco sighed, 'if cakes could be sexy, they would all be made by whoever made those.'

'You never figured out who made them?' Pansy asked.

Shaking his head, Draco said, 'nope. The elves said something about the baker having a bad time. And she always baked when she was upset. So she made a bunch and left them down there for whoever wanted one. When's the tasting again, Pans?'

'Two-thirty!'

'I'll be there.' Draco finished his drink before telling the couple of his meeting with the Minister scheduled for the next morning.

'Are you ready for it?' Blaise asked, fingering his empty cup.

'Ready as I can be.' He replied with a shrug. 'How do we find the entrance of Vanilla Dreams?'

Clapping her hands together, Pansy smiled. 'You can apparate right into the shop during open business hours! So meet you around two-thirty?'

Nodding in agreement, Draco stood and tossed a few galleons onto the table. 'Sounds good to me, see you then.' He bid his farewells and crossed the crowded bar, trying to make it to the exit without anyone noticing him. Blaise and Pansy stayed apart from the main part of the war. Well, excluding when Pans tried handing Potter to the Dark Lord. They flew under the radar, for the most part. Not Draco. Everyone knows who he is.