A/N at end of Chapter

Hermione Granger woke up with a start. Her flat was dark except for the dim light of the late summer evening filtering in through her window. She rolled over, looked at the clock and groaned. She'd only meant to shut her eyes for a few minutes to make up for last night's bout of insomnia and it was now three hours later. Ugh, was there any worse feeling than going to sleep in daylight and waking up in the dark?

She flicked on her bedside lamp and sat up, rubbing her eyes. There went another night of sleep - she'd be up all hours again. Fucking insomnia. At least it made more sense to go to that show at the Point Club now. She'd been debating because it was on the other side of the city and she didn't love going to shows alone, but she wanted to see the headliner Low Season live. The band had been in heavy rotation on her iPod since a muggle friend recommended them a couple of weeks ago. Kind of garagey with a twang - mellow, but buzzy - she loved the singer's voice.

Shit, doors were at 8 and the show started at 9 - she'd better get ready if she was going to make it. She pulled on jeans and a soft gray cami and zipped up her highest boots. She'd need the inches if she wanted to see over the tall people in the crowd. A splash of cold water to her face, some lipstick, mascara and a bit of wand work on her bedhead and she was ready. She grabbed her leather jacket and headed out the door to the tube station.

Arriving at the basement club in Hackney, Hermione descended the steep stairs and paid £15 to enter the dark, close space. The Point was one of her favourite live music venues in London, although it was hard to pinpoint why. It was simply a long, narrow room with a bar at one end and a stage at the other. The stage was low and dinky with a tinsel curtain on the wall behind. The bar was also small and since the 8 or 9 stools lining it were the only chairs in the place, they were highly prized. Hermione had been known to arrive more than an hour early for a show just to get one of those stools. She figured she had no hope of one tonight, so was overjoyed when a bloke at the end of the bar drained his pint and got up just as she walked in. She hustled to his seat and claimed it with a happy sigh. Her night was looking 100% better than it had an hour ago.

She ordered a lager and took an icy sip as she twisted on her stool to survey the club. It was about three quarters full, although people were steadily streaming in. It looked as though the opening band had left the stage and Low Season were almost finished setting up. She turned back toward the bar and inadvertently caught the eye of a girl sitting on the stool next to her. They both smiled a little shyly.

"Good luck getting that seat, eh?" the girl said with an american twang.

"Seriously," said Hermione. "Feels like I won the lottery. Have you seen them before?" She gestured behind her toward the stage.

"Yes, this is my second time. I caught them in Manchester in January. You?" Hermione shook her head. "Oh well then you're in for a treat," the girl said with a smile. "They blew me away. They have this great female bassist and, this is going to sound shallow," she rolled her eyes self-deprecatingly, "but the singer is hot." She put her hand up when she saw Hermione chuckle. "I am a real music fan, I promise, not just a fangirl - but you'll see what I mean."

At that moment the lights went down and the crowd cheered as the band took the tiny stage. Hermione grabbed her pint and turned turned all the way around on her stool, looking down as her boot heel caught on the rungs of the seat. The band launched into the opening song, the singer belting out the first lyrics. "His voice sounds great live," Hermione thought as she looked up … and almost dropped her pint glass on the floor.

The american girl had been right. The lead singer was 'hot' - tall, lean, broad shoulders, beautiful face and hair that was tousled just so. His black t-shirt clung lovingly to his chest and his jeans rode low on his slim hips. His charisma was immediately apparent - as if the group of rapt girls in the front row didn't spell it out clearly enough. He was also, and Hermione's brain was truly having trouble processing this, Draco FUCKING Malfoy. She stared for several bars with her mouth gaping open. The girl leaned over and nudged her, "damn, I expected to be vindicated, but that's quite a reaction," she smirked.

Hermione collected herself, "Ah, yes. No. It's just - I know him. Or I knew him. We, uh, went to school together. And I had no idea he was in a band." She shook her head distractedly. "He's actually the last person I could ever imagine singing in a band."

"Well, lucky you," laughed the girl, turning back to the stage.

Hermione sat in a daze. The music washed over her and there was no denying they were good - and that Malfoy was very good. You couldn't take your eyes off of him as he moved around the stage. He wasn't over the top - his demeanor was cool, but there was something simmering underneath that the whole audience responded to. Hermione felt herself responding, she'd barely registered the other band members.

She also realised she'd never had a chance to really look at him. During school, making eye contact with Draco Malfoy had been an invitation to bullying, so she'd always glanced away - even though a very remedial part of her brain recognised his attractiveness after about 4th year or so. Being able to stare her fill now without him having any clue was, what had her seatmate said? - a treat. She was especially intrigued by his hands as they traveled over the strings of his guitar… Hermione mentally shook herself, in disbelief that she was ogling Malfoy. Then she grinned. He'd never know, so what was the harm?

Her new friend leaned over again, "Ok, this has been killing me, but you'll know the answer. Is that his natural hair color? That has to be bleached, right?"

Hermione snorted, "100% natural. I've known him since he was 11 and I've met his father. His is the exact same."

The girl covered her heart and leaned back against the bar in an exaggerated swoon. Hermione laughed - imagining what Harry or Ginny would say about her discussing Draco Malfoy's hair with a stranger.

She turned her eyes back to the stage and realised she wouldn't be able to stay a passive observer indefinitely. During a short break between songs, Malfoy squinted through the stage lights in her direction, one hand peaked over his eyes - like he was looking for her. She knew what was happening - she'd experienced this before. In a room filled with muggles, the two magical people would somehow know the other one was there. It was like their magic reached out independently and found the other source. She could feel a slight pull toward him and she was sure he could feel the same coming from her part of the room. "Oh well," she thought - if he came and found her it would be awkward, but it wouldn't kill her. At least she could honestly say she liked his music. And after all, they should be on somewhat decent terms. She had written a statement for the Wizengamot that had helped exonerate him after the war and he'd sent a very proper thank you letter in return.

With that thought Hermione decided to relax and enjoy the rest of the show. The band was really excellent. Her American friend had been right - the bassist was the shit. And for a couple of songs Malfoy sat down and played the keyboard. He was talented and magnetic. The girls in the front certainly enjoyed it.

The show eventually wound down and the band left the stage, then returned for an encore - an uptempo cover of Dylan's Simple Twist of Fate that got the whole crowd dancing. Hermione was no exception - singing along and bouncing in her seat. And then it was over. The lights came up. Hermione said a cordial goodbye to her seatmate and stood to put on her jacket. She figured if she got out of there quickly, she'd minimise any chance of an awkward meeting with Malfoy. Surely he wouldn't want to wade out into the crowd directly after the show and risk being mobbed.

But then she felt a tap on her shoulder. Her magic buzzed and she knew. She closed her eyes and exhaled, resigned, then turned around. And there he was, looking down at her with a bemused grin. She felt lips tug into an answering smile.

"It was you," was his brilliant opener.

She laughed, suddenly nervous. "Yes, it was me." She looked over his shoulder, "how did you get over here without being besieged by fans? I thought I could sneak out before you caught me."

"Wizard, remember?" he smirked, pointing to himself. "Let me tell you about something called a 'muggle repelling charm', Granger. It's rather easy to cast and works a treat."

She rolled her eyes and snorted, unable to prevent the grin from emerging again. She was also unable to prevent herself noticing that up close Malfoy was even more … compelling. His teeth flashed white as he smiled and his hairline was slightly damp from his efforts on stage. She tightened her lips in self-annoyance and attempted rational discourse. She'd always been capable of it previously.

"So, I'm here because I've liked Low Season for a while, but I had no idea you were in the band until tonight." He raised a brow and she felt her face redden. "I mean, you were great. You put on a great show."

"Thank you very much," he replied sliding onto the stool next to her and calling the bartender over. He ordered a whisky and turned to her, "Granger, what are you drinking?"

Ok I guess we're having a drink together… She sank back down on her stool. "Uh, lager, but let me get the round. I owe you for the excellent performance."

He inclined his head, "I'm surprised to see you here. I mean, aside from the obvious that it's surprising to see anyone of our kind here. But I didn't take you as someone who was musically inclined."

"Yes, it's something I didn't develop an interest in until after school. Once we weren't busy fighting a war, you know."

Nodding over his whisky, he suddenly gave her an intense look, "I never got to thank you in person. For all that after the war. So, thank you."

She had just taken a gulp of beer and his comment flustered her, so she sputtered a bit, "Of course - it was what anyone would have done."

"Mmm, I don't think so. But we can leave it at that if you want," he half smiled.

"So how in the world did you end up fronting a popular muggle band, Malfoy?" Hermione felt that a subject change was needed and she'd been dying to know.

"'Popular' is a bit generous, but I suppose it started after the war for me too. I've always played. Classical piano, you know. Stuffy, conservative wizarding compositions that make Wagner look like Blur." She laughed. "But after the war, when I was looking beyond my parents' influence," he slid a pointed glance over to her and she nodded. "I started getting more interested in all sorts of muggle things. But especially music. So I taught myself guitar and started going to gigs all over London. I bought a CD player and then an iPod and listened to everything I could. I also started writing songs. The early ones were really crap." Hermione smiled and shook her head. "No, they really were. But I played a few of them at open mic nights, where I met Theresa - she's our bassist - and Doug - he's the lead guitarist. And we just got on. So we decided to form a band. We found Tim, our drummer, and that was it. That was three years ago."

"That's really cool, Malfoy," Hermione said, laying her hand on his arm without thinking. He looked down at it and then up at her and she snatched it back, his gaze making her nervous again. "And I take it you've managed to hide your magic from them altogether?"

"Yeah, no obliteration needed thus far. But I do have to be careful to keep my lives separate. Not that I care if the wizarding world knows about this. But the muggle world is a different story, as you well know." She nodded. "I go by a stage name here - Drake Gray - but everyone just calls me Gray for some reason. Which is annoying because I still forget to answer to it sometimes and I chose Drake because it's near to my actual name," he chuckled. "You want another round?" Hermione debated for exactly two seconds before nodding her head.

"Is this your only job? You do music full time?" Hermione was curious as to what that would be like. She couldn't imagine a Malfoy as a starving artist.

"God, no! I wish," he laughed, "Yeah, no, my day job is managing the Malfoy investments and holdings. Land, finance, various concerns. It's full time since my father died."

"And do you like that? It sounds like it could either skew really interesting or really boring."

"That's a good way of putting it. It can be boring, but I'm starting a new project that I'm very excited about." He took a sip of his whisky.

"Oh, I think I read something about this in the Prophet," exclaimed Hermione. "You're doing something with the manor, right? The article was a bit vague."

"Intentionally so. It was supposed to be just a teaser to generate interest. But yes, we're turning the manor into a museum and library with public gardens." Hermione made a murmur of surprise and pleasure and a quick grin flashed across his face, "The museum will be a sort of mish-mash of natural history, art and exhibits about social and cultural movements of the wizarding world. But it will also have a permanent muggle collection."

"And the library?" she breathed.

He gave a sharp bark of laughter, "I should have known, Granger, that's what you'd hone in on." She shrugged and held up her hands. "Well, you may not know, but the Malfoy library collection is actually more extensive than the one at Hogwarts." He raised his eyebrows and Hermione gasped. "More subjects covered, you know… and no restricted section. Most of it has just been sitting there untouched for years - despite my extensive reading habits." He leaned back and stretched as she rolled her eyes, "So we decided we want to open it up. It will be like a muggle lending library or the public sections of the ministry collection, but much larger." Hermione was now staring off into the middle distance with a glazed, covetous look. Malfoy laughed and nudged her. "You want to come see it before it goes public, Granger? You're welcome to." Her eyes widened and she nodded vigorously. "And I'll tell you what," he continued, "if you agree to participate in the opening ceremonies for the centre - give a speech or sign copies of your book - let me shamelessly use your name for publicity - I'll let you borrow as many titles as you want before the public gets access."

"Yes, please." Hermione responded practically before he finished speaking.

He laughed and stuck out his hand, "It's a deal."

Hermione took his hand thoughtlessly, visions of ancient and rare titles still dancing in her head, so the jolt when their hands touched took her by surprise. It was like their magic buzzing earlier, but more intense. Her eyes flew to his. His face had sobered and he was looking at her with a peculiar kind of focus. And he hadn't let go of her hand. He seemed to realise that too because he loosened his grip abruptly and cleared his throat before taking a large drink of whisky.

"Enough about me, though. What's going on in your world?" he asked, running the same hand through his hair.

Hermione's eyes followed the graceful movement, struck by the strange sensation and its effect on her, before she realised she was staring and snapped out of it.

"Me uhh, I am still at the ministry. Heading Magical Creatures division, but looking to move to another department within a year or so. You mentioned my book, so you know about that. Been traveling a bit. Japan this spring and planning a trip to Australia this winter. Always seeking out good new music and going to shows. Reading." She realised she was rambling, but couldn't seem to stop. He was nodding along and looking interested.

"Are you planning another book? I read your first one. It was great. You made the Statute of Secrecy creation story fascinating."

She felt her face flush, which always happened when someone complimented her book. And she was pleased that he'd read and liked it since she admired his music so much.

"Thank you. And I'm sort of resting on the laurels of this one," she quipped, "but I have a few ideas simmering."

"Well all I can say is that if old Binns had made history come alive like that at Hogwarts, I would have done a lot less sleeping in class. My eyes wide shut charm would have been rubbish, though."

She laughed as he pulled a small mobile phone from his pocket. It seemed to be buzzing with an incoming text message. He glanced at it and his eyes widened. "I don't want to be rude, but this is something big, hold on just a sec."

Hermione waved her hand, "please, go ahead." She watched him as his eyes traveled down the message and his face lit up. Curiosity was killing her.

He looked up, "Hermione, do you know Seb St. James and the Seven?"

She ignored the flutterings that hearing her first name in his voice incited. "Yes, of course. I love them. They're one of my favourite bands. I listen to Darkness at least once a week."

"God, I love that album," he sighed. "Well this text right here tells me that Seb and the boys are playing a secret gig at Venus Recording studios starting in roughly ten minutes. Have you heard of the Venus Sessions?"

"Yes! I've listened to recordings of so many of them. I love the format. Informal but the sound quality is amazing."

"I know. Well do you want to go to one? Right now?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open."With you?"

He slanted her a sideways glance, "well, I mean, you're cute and all, but I don't think you're getting in without me, no." His smirk was so smug it bordered on fatuous.

She reddened, "that did not come out the way I meant it." He'd started laughing softly, "No, seriously, I'm sorry. It's just this whole night has taken on a surreal quality. Not that I'm not enjoying it." He was laughing harder. "But that is to say, that yes, I would very much like to go see Seb fucking St. James at a Venus Session. Right now. With you." She pounded the bar twice for emphasis. That last drink had gone a little to her head.

"Then let's go," he stood up and she climbed off her stool and picked up her jacket, stuffing her arm into one of the sleeves. He picked up the other end and assisted her other arm in, while she wondered when was the last time someone had done that for her. Harry and Ron were not the biggest on chivalry.

"Shit, Malfoy. Venus is in Brixton. We'll never make it in time. The tube's on reduced schedule this time of night and even a cab will take 30 minutes."

"I've been there several times. We recorded a few songs there. There's a little alley around the corner that's out of sight of anywhere. I know it well enough to apparate."

He held the door open for her and they climbed up to the street. Hermione's mind was racing. Side along apparition required a lot of body contact if the second person had never been to the location. How were they going to do this? Was it wrong that she was sort of looking forward to however they were going to do this?

Malfoy walked quickly, his long strides leading them across the street into a deserted lot. A line of skips filled with building rubbish sat in the corner. He headed for them and grabbed Hermione's arm, ducking behind them with a lightning quick movement. She gave a squeak of surprise and stumbled against him. His arms went around her and she only had a split second to enjoy the sensation before they were sucked into a swirling darkness and spat out on the other side. Draco released her and steadied her shoulders before grinning and letting her go. "See? Easy."

A/N - I'm a music nerd and it's a big part of my life, but people's taste is so personal that I don't necessarily want to dictate what people hear when they think of Draco singing. However, I can't resist sharing the specific three songs that create his sound and the atmosphere of this fic for me. Check them out if you want to immerse yourself in my influence. :D

1) 'Darkness' - Pinegrove: The original inspiration - I was listening to it one day and the whole story popped into my mind. It's a bit twangy and American for Draco, but it's a great song and the reason this fic exists.

2) 'Love like Ghosts' - Lord Huron: Atmospheric and beautiful. Romantic AF.

3) '1,000 Times' - Hamilton Leithauser and Rostam: The more rocking and raw side of the band. When Hamilton's voice gets scratchy and husky that's when I picture Draco just killing it onstage.

~ I'd also love to hear your ideas in the comments if you so desire!