The Right Thing

by: Ismira Daugéne

Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling

I own nothing… If I did, do you really think I'd be publishing it on here?

**Warning: This fic has been rated M for language and adult situations later in the story. **

Chapter 1: Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!

Did I do the right thing? Hermione Granger asked herself as she sat at the bar of The Leaky Cauldron. Her bushy brown hair was pulled back into a braid that rested on her pale green long-sleeve v-neck with a blouse underneath. She rested her forehead in one hand closing her eyes for a moment. "Would you like another?" Tom the bartender asked.

Hermione looked up at him then down at the empty glass before her. She nodded thinking, what the hell… I've already had three. "One dirty martini coming up," Tom grabbed her glass and wandered down to the other end of the bar.

He came back a moment later with a fresh glass filled with gin, dry vermouth, and olives. Hermione's fingers wrapped around the stem of the glass and her other hand played with the toothpick and olive. Removing the olive, she chugged down the martini in one go. "That's not very healthy you know," a masculine voice said from her left.

"Do I look like I give a damn?" Hermione retorted not looking up.

"No, not really. You wanna talk about it?"

"Do I want to talk about what?"

"The reason you've downed four martinis in the last hour."

"Why would I want to tell a stranger…" Hermione broke off as she looked up to see a familiar pair of grey eyes behind platinum blond bangs looking at her.

"We're not exactly strangers," Draco Malfoy said folding his hands on the bar.

Hermione frowned, "Why would I want to tell you about my problems?"

"Because you have no one else to tell," he said not breaking eye contact with her.

"Why would you think that?"

"Why else would you be here at a bar, by yourself, if you didn't have someone to go to with your problems?" he answered her question with a question.

Hermione's frown deepened. "What are you doing Draco?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you talking to me?"

"You look like you need someone to talk to," he shrugged.
"Yeah, but considering our history, why are you talking to me?"

"Hermione, it's been seven years since the end of the war. I've had some time to think about things and believe it or not, I realize how much of an asshole I was in school. Kids can be cruel and I was. It doesn't mean I can't change."

Hermione ducked her head, embarrassed that she hadn't considered he might have changed. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little… "

"Drunk?" he supplied helpfully.

"Besides that! I just broke up with Ron."

"What? You finally dumped the Weasel?"

Hermione glared at him. "Sorry! It appears cruelty follows us into adulthood as well," Draco said looking down at his hands. "So why did you break up? If you don't mind me asking."

Hermione looked down at her empty glass. It seemed Draco had changed for the better. The fact that he would apologize to her was something indeed. "We had the same fight we've been having for a long time. This time had a different outcome," Hermione paused. "He's just so stubborn! He refuses to believe that he could ever be wrong!"

"It's a common trait in the male half of the species," Draco admitted smirking slightly.

"Well, I just couldn't stand it anymore. I told him that if he wasn't even going to consider my side of things, then he could say goodbye and I wasn't going to come back."

"So…"
Hermione suddenly burst into tears. "He – he just glared at me and said goodbye. Then he turned and walked out of the room," Hermione was clutching herself tightly and gasping for breath between racking sobs.

Draco, unsure of how to comfort her, put a hesitant hand on her shoulder. Hermione trembled with each shuddering breath. "I'm sorry, I just… it just happened a few days ago."

"What about Potter? You, him, and the little Weaslette were always bosom buddies."

"Harry and Ginny are on holiday out of country." Hermione explained, ignoring the jibe at the youngest Weasley.

"Oh… well, do you have a place to stay for the night?"

"Yes, I rented a room here at The Leaky Cauldron."

"Let me walk you to your room. I think a good night's sleep would help you immensely," Draco said standing and leaving some sickles on the counter to cover her tab.

He pulled on Hermione's arm and she allowed him to steer her up the stairs to the rooms for rent. "Which one's yours?"

"D4."

Draco led her to room D4 then pulled back. "Here you are."

Hermione sniffled, "Thanks."

Draco's hand went to the back of his neck. "I'm staying in C2 for the week. Business in town. If you… umm… if you need someone to talk to."

"Thanks Draco, I'll call if I need you," Hermione muttered through her tear streaked face then opened the door to her room and went inside.

Draco let out a breath of air he hadn't realized he'd held in and dropped his hand to his side. Maybe I need my head checked, he thought to himself. He hadn't meant to talk to Granger at all, but after seeing her sitting alone gulping down martini after martini, he couldn't help himself. The brunette just looked so depressed.

Draco started walking to his room. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he'd had business in town. He was checking up on past patients in the city. After the war, he'd had a hard time trying to get back into society. Being the son of a Death Eater and being labeled a Death Eater himself didn't help. The Ministry had held an outreach program to people like him. After attending sessions for a year and a half, he'd realized that it wasn't just people like him who needed help. There were hundreds of survivors who were traumatized and just needed someone to talk to. Draco learned that he was quite good at listening.

As part of the Ministry Outreach Program, he spent two years helping victims of the war, listening to their stories, helping rebuild homes, and helping to rebuild confidence. After he'd graduated from the program, Draco decided he liked helping people. He became a professional councilor and listened to people who just needed someone to talk to. He gave advice and helped people to move on with their lives. Seven years of working with people in pain, both emotional and physical, had taught Draco to spot the ones who really needed his help. Hermione had fit the bill tonight and he hadn't been able to stop himself from trying to talk to her.

Draco reached his room just then and entered it, thinking about how to help Granger. She was going to need more than a few martinis and a short talk with an old school nemesis. He scoffed at the pronoun he'd used for himself. Nemesis was a bit dramatic, but considering how he'd treated her back in school, the word did work. She wouldn't want his help, and would be loath to admit it, but she needed it. It was apparent that he'd just picked up a new client whether he wanted her or not. His conscience wouldn't allow him to just let her go.

The blond man shook his head as he loosened his tie and prepared to retire for the night. Tomorrow would be an interesting day.

o O o O o O o

Hermione woke the next morning with a splitting headache. Words could not describe the pain that was shooting through her head. Excruciating might have been close for any normal headache, but for this monster of a hangover headache, excruciating sounded like a fun way to spend the day. She groaned and buried her face in the pillow, not entirely sure if she was trying to suffocate herself or simply block out the light filtering in the grimy window. Either way, she hoped it brought some relief.

Her wish did not come true though; in fact the opposite happened and her headache suddenly worsened due to an extremely happy voice calling out, "Good Morning!"

She wondered if there was anyway to Avada Kedarva an attitude. Hell, Avada Kedarva'ing her headache would probably be more beneficial, but she was pretty sure that wasn't possible. Instead she rolled to her side and squinted to see who had managed to get in her room. To her surprise, the face was familiar although not necessarily welcome. "What the fuck do you want, Malfoy?" she muttered, dropping back down into the pillow, a small part of her mind remembering that he'd helped her to her room the previous night.

"I figured you'd most likely have one hell of a hangover this morning and I thought to myself, 'Self, we should help her out with that'."

"Well you can just take both of you and get the hell out of my room," she grumbled.

"Mmm… no."

"What do you mean no? This is my room! Last I checked, I was paying for it, not you! Besides, how did you even get in?" She was now facing him again as he set a tray bearing morning tea service onto a table.

"Alohomora?" he replied as though this should be obvious.

"Are you kidding me? These doors unlock with a simple alohomora charm?"

He chuckled slightly as he poured tea into one of the cups. "No, the door was unlocked actually. You must not have locked it before going to sleep last night."

Hermione grunted slightly as she sat up, her back leaning against the headboard. "Last night…" she muttered.

"Yes, you know… the bit where I helped you up the stairs and to your door?"

"I remember!" she snapped.

"Well I wasn't sure, you see. You had been drinking quite a lot last night. How do you take your tea?"

"Sugar, no cream."

He put a sugar cube into her cup and handed it to her on a saucer along with a stirring spoon. She snatched it away from him, the tea spilling over the sides of the cup a little. The blond man prepared a cup for himself and sat himself down in the chair next to the table, stirring his tea. Hermione squinted her eyes at him, examining him from head to toe while his head was down concentrating on his tea. He wore business attire, a nice set of charcoal pants, a light blue and white striped dress shirt, a matching charcoal vest, and a navy blue tie tucked into the vest. One lean leg was crossed over the other and she could see he had plain black shoes, although they were dull and in desperate need of a good polishing. Despite the meticulousness with which he prepared the rest of his attire, including his carefully combed hair, his shoes told a different story. Perhaps he had been very busy recently. Of course his shoe appearance in combination with the fact that he was staying in the Leaky Cauldron for the week said that he was not a man of means anymore. It appeared he had joined the working class.

Hermione's eyes darted up to his face to see that he was smiling at her. She blushed and quickly took a drink of tea to cover it up. After she'd felt the blush recede a little, she dared to look back up at him again. "Why did you bring my tea? I ordered a morning service from the kitchen, but how did you get a hold of it?" this seemed like a logical place to start the questions that were starting to pile up in her brain.

Draco took a sip of tea before answering. "My own morning service arrived first and I inquired as to whether you had ordered a tray. I offered to take your service to your room for the maid," he shrugged. "Besides, it's always nice to have company for tea, wouldn't you agree?"

Hermione glared at him over the edge of her teacup. "Do you really want me to answer that considering the headache I'm currently sporting and the residual feelings I have for you from school?"

He grimaced slightly, "No, I suppose not."

Silence filled the room for a while as they both sipped at their tea. Hermione fidgeted uncomfortably under the duvet. She'd only managed to slip out of her jeans and shoes last night before falling into bed and she was currently feeling the effects of the tea and the commode was calling. She glanced up at Draco again, but he didn't look to be leaving anytime soon. In fact, he'd just poured himself another cup of tea. She sighed and placed her own saucer on the bedside table. "Would you mind leaving?" she asked, trying to be civil.

Draco looked up at her. "Whatever for? I thought we were getting on quite well."

Hermione's mouth pursed and her eyes squinted. "Right…" It appeared that she would have to be blunt. "I need to use the loo and I don't have any bottoms on at the moment, so I'd prefer you to leave for a moment."

The blond blushed slightly and nodded. "I'll come back when you're done."

He rose and left the room, taking his tea with him. Hermione scrambled from the bed as soon as the door shut. "Like hell you will," she muttered and locked the door with a spell.

A little less tense now that Malfoy was out of the room and the door was locked, she made her way into the bathroom to use the facilities and brush her teeth. She was about half way through a hot shower when she heard Draco calling through the door. "He just can't take a hint, can he?" she muttered. "Well he can just stand out in the hall for all I care!" And she continued with her shower, running her hands through her heavy hair to rinse out the shampoo. Her hair had always been a thing of frustration for her. It was so thick and unruly that she'd gotten a pixie haircut shortly after finishing school. (She'd gone back to complete her seventh year of school the year after defeating Lord Voldemort.) However it was growing out again now and was just past her shoulders. She would need to get it thinned again if she had any hope of maintaining a tame appearance.

At that moment, she heard Draco's voice a little louder, almost as if it were coming from just outside the bathroom door. What he was saying confirmed it. "I'll just wait out here, shall I? Would you like me to fetch you anything? Clothes perhaps?"

She grumbled a few choice words under her breath that she'd picked up from Ron. The prat was just not getting that she didn't want his company. However, he was correct in assuming that she hadn't brought clothes into the bathroom with her. Figuring that the blond ferret would stay on the other side of her door, she didn't think she'd need to. "Damnit all…" she muttered.

Finishing with her shower, Hermione stepped out and wrapped a large white fluffy towel firmly around herself before opening the bathroom door a couple of centimeters. Draco was seated back in the chair sipping tea nonchalantly. She found it curious that his pointer finger was held out away from the cup when he picked it up. Wasn't it taught to the upper-class that the pinky finger did that? She shook her head a little and pointed her wand out the door towards the corner of the room. "Accio day bag," she muttered and a medium sized blue cloth bag floated up and came zooming toward the witch past a surprised Draco Malfoy.

He followed the bag with his eyes which widened slightly upon spying a towel clad Hermione. "You could have asked," he commented.

Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped back into the bathroom, thankful that she'd mastered packing skills during hers, Ron's, and Harry's search for horcruxes. At the thought of Ron, the hole that had opened up in her chest last night after realizing that she had no one re-opened and she clutched at herself in an attempt to avoid flying apart.

Changing her thoughts back to the day bag, she thought about specific items she'd packed to get her mind off of the ginger haired asshole. She'd managed to fit all of her worldly possessions into the shoulder bag including the majority of her library, potions, clothing, and other necessities along with a few things that probably weren't necessities, but she thought she'd throw them in anyway. Not feeling the need to hurry, she dug around in the bag until her fingers met denim and cotton. She dressed in a favorite pair of old jeans and a three quarter sleeve plain dark red boat necked shirt. Only once she'd dried her hair and picked at her appearance to the point where there was literally nothing left to do, did she emerge from the bathroom with the hopes that Draco had left. She frowned when she saw that he was still sitting in the chair, only now a small appointment book was opened on his knee and he was looking over it.

"You know, usually a locked door means that company isn't wanted," Hermione commented as she walked into the room and stood before him with arms crossed.

"You didn't mean it," he said waving a hand nonchalantly, not even looking up from his appointment book.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. The nerve of him! "Who's to say I didn't mean it?" she demanded.

"Well… I believe I just said it," he replied now looking up at her, a small smile on his face.

"Arrrgh!" she growled out as she clenched and unclenched her hands. "Maybe I should just put this plain and simple," she started, glaring at him and his knowing smile. "I don't want you in my room. I don't want to talk to you. And while I'm grateful for your assistance last night, I don't need any more help from you. Now would you please leave?" The last part was more of a demand than a question.

Draco gave her a calculating look, one eyebrow raised higher than the other. "I believe you," he said simply.

"What?" she asked confused.

"You really do want me to leave, however I'm not sure if it is me specifically you want to leave or if you would prefer no one to be with you. I have a feeling it's the first."

"Jesus Christ! Will you just leave?"

Draco stood, closing his appointment book as he did so. "Hermione," he addressed her in a calm soothing tone. "I realize that our past is not the best, but I can tell that you need someone to talk to. I'm offering my services because it's kind of what I do professionally now and your internal pain is blazing so brightly right now I'm surprised your not lit up like a beacon." Hermione stared at him, her mouth hanging slightly open in surprise. "I will leave you alone, but I beg you remember my offer, because the pain and rage your holding in will eventually snap and were I not trained to handle such a thing, I would be afraid to be on the receiving end when it does happen."

He moved toward her and placed a hand gently on her elbow. She didn't move, still too surprised at this new Draco Malfoy. "Just remember, I'm down in C2. Feel free to come down or send me a note and I'll meet you here."

And with that he left, closing the door to her room soundlessly. Hermione stared at the door for a full five minutes before her mind started working again. Was that really Draco Malfoy who'd just been talking to her? It had certainly looked like him, but it sure as hell hadn't sounded like the spoiled pureblood pratt she was used to. Of course he had said something about changing over the past seven years. But was it really possible to change so much? The new Draco Malfoy was nearly a complete 180 degree turn around from the old. Either he was a very good actor, or he had done some serious thinking and re-evaluating over the past few years.

Hermione moved to sit on the bed. It was at that moment that it occurred to her that she hadn't notified her boss that she wouldn't be coming in today. It was Friday and she figured she deserved a three-day weekend after what she'd just been through. Looking up at the top of the wardrobe that sat in the corner, she spied a familiar white and tan shape. "Jareth*," she gently coaxed the sleeping owl.

Crookshanks, the squash-faced large ball of orange fur who'd she'd gotten during her third year, had died from old age a couple years back and she'd decided that it was time to get her own owl. She'd chosen a handsome male barn owl and decided to name him Jareth after the antagonist in one of her favorite movies, Labyrinth. Said owl was having trouble waking up just now though, so she found a bag of owl treats in her day bag and pulled one out. "Jareth," she coaxed. "I'll give you a treat if you deliver my message to Karen," she said mentioning her boss at the Ministry in the newly developed 'Department for the Rights of Sentient Beings'.

The owl winked at her and stretched his wings leisurely before fluttering down onto the table that still had the tea service tray on it. He gobbled up the treat Hermione gave him and dipped his beak in some left over tea while Hermione wrote out a short message explaining to her boss that she wouldn't be in today. Jareth patiently waited while she tied it to his leg and pried open the grimy window.

After Jareth had gone, Hermione flopped backwards onto her bed. Her headache wasn't completely gone and she decided a good nap might be beneficial. It had been a trying morning; perhaps the afternoon would be better?

o O o O o O o

A/N: Alrighty then! So, this is my first Dramione fic, and I'm really hoping you guys will like it. I have read some D/H fics out there, but there's so many that I've hardly scratched the surface. So, I'm hoping this isn't too similar to anything out there already. I've got some plans for the story that I think will be kind of unique, but we'll see how it goes.

Cheers! And please review! I love reviews… I eat them for breakfast with toast. They're quite tasty!

*Jareth is the name of the Goblin King antagonist in the 1986 Jim Henson movie, Labyrinth. He is played by David Bowie whose lyrics I stole for the title to this chapter. I'm rather obsessed by Bowie/Jareth, as you'll be able to tell should you visit my profile page. I'd recommend checking out the movie if you've never seen it before if for no other reason than to laugh at the fact that the villain is all glittery and the monsters are Muppets!