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"Mistakes are proof that you are trying."
~Ernest Hemingway
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"Did you know that Terry Boot has joined the Ministry?" 

It was the first thing Draco said the next morning, "Blaise was telling me about it."

He was around half an hour late, because he had gone to visit his parents at the hospital first. Lucius was doing much better than the Healers had expected, and Narcissa had regained some color to her face.

Draco avoided the topic of the previous day like the plague, and acted like it had never happened. He hoped she would get the hint and not bring it up in conversations. 

"Yea, I know, I met him yesterday," Hermione said, pulling her hair up, "He just moved into the same apartment building as mine."

Draco elevated his eyebrows, "So?"

"So nothing, I was just telling you," Hermione shrugged, "He was studying in Ilvermorny, you know, for higher education."

Draco didn't like how appreciative she sounded of him, "No big deal, every wanker can get into Ilvermorny."

"Actually, it's quite hard for foreign students to get in," Hermione said, "I've heard they keep entrance tests."

"Primps," Draco said, "I wouldn't like anyone who studied there."

"Terry is nice, really."

"Terry?" Draco asked disbelievingly, trying to keep the fact that he was annoyed from reflecting in his voice, "Why do you call him 'Terry'?"

"That's his name, and we are friends," Hermione said calmly. She had slipped the apron over her head, during which action Draco had glanced at her exposed neck. 

Draco recalled seeing Hermione and Terry bent over books at the Hogwarts library, and his annoyance increased manifold. 

"You two were study buddies, right," Draco muttered, casting a quick Scourgify on his work desk, "You both practically lived in the library."

"We used to study together yes," Hermione nodded, with a fond reminiscing smile on her face, "He is very intelligent, and was always in the top three in our grade."

Draco was always second in their grade. But he didn't remind her about it. 

After a small pause in which Hermione went to the front to ask for her instructions for the day, Draco cleared his throat, "So, he lives next door from you now?"

Hermione briefly glanced at him with narrowed eyes, "No, two floors down."

Draco tried to be happy about the fact, but he couldn't, for some reason, bring himself to look the part. 

Draco went to the ingredients cupboard to draw out what he would need. At the same time, Hermione came over to his desk to look for a pair of tweezers. She was standing right beside the ingredients cupboard. 

Feeling irked, Draco wrenched the cupboard door open. 

He heard a muffled "oomph" and a dull thud, and his eyes widened in realisation. He hurriedly looked around the door to find Hermione keeled over with a hand on her chest. 

"Fuck," her eyes were streaming, and she gingerly rubbed the spot on her chest. 

"Shit," Draco held out his hand for her to take, and she took it. 

"Why must you always throw the the door open?" Hermione asked, obviously feeling more than a little bitter, "Can't you open it like a normal person?" 

"Sorry, sorry," Draco muttered. He raised a hand to help with the pain, but his brain reminded him precisely at the right moment that he couldn't really come off as decent if he would touch her that high on her chest, and he awkwardly lowered his hand. 

Trying to bring back the casualness, Draco said in a matter of fact manner, "I've never heard you swear before. You don't come off as a person who swears."

With a glare, Hermione stuck her chin defiantly in the air, and said in the most staged voice, "Fuck."

Draco arched an eyebrow, "Okay, point taken."

Hermione finally straightened up and was able to remove her hand from over her front torso, "I'm no prude, or an innocent lily, you know."

"Please, you wouldn't hurt anyone if you could help it," Draco said, feeling relieved when she didn't show any further signs of being in pain, "Seeing as how sunshiney and kind and compassionate you are, I'd say you are an innocent lily."

"I can be rude too," Hermione said, sounding childlike, "Like Pansy."

Draco let out a short laugh, "What you've seen isn't Pansy being rude, it's her being at her kindest. You aren't half as bitchy as she is."

"Just because you haven't seen my bad side, other than in third year," Hermione grumbled. She was pulling apart the scales of a Horned Fig fruit and placing them carefully on a petri dish. 

Wanting to challenge her, Draco sent an infuriating smirk her way, "No, I don't think so."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "I can be complete bitch to people I hate."

"Who do you hate?" Draco questioned immediately, unable to rid himself of his smirk. 

"Umbridge," she mumbled after a moment of thought. 

"That cow doesn't count, because everyone hates her," Draco waved a hand through the air, "Who else?"

Hermione bit her lip in thought, and the action caused Draco to blink at her for precisely four seconds before he looked away. 

"No offence, but I bear a great dislike for your aunt," Hermione said.

Draco laughed, "Me, too. Who else?"

"Fine, so I don't really hate anyone," Hermione admitted with a huff, "But I do dislike people."

"But you wouldn't ever be rude to them without reason," Draco provoked. 

"I'll do something rude right now," Hermione said haughtily and turned around to face Draco, and for a moment he was afraid she would slap him again. But she only pulled on her best impression of Pansy's resting bitch face, and knocked the small flask Draco was holding out of his hand. 

Draco caught it just before it reached the floor. When he stood up, there was already a flicker of something similar to remorse on her face. Draco laughed, "You didn't mean that."

Hermione resolutely stood her ground for a few moments, then shook her head, "No, I didn't."

Draco grinned, "Score for me, then?"

"Oh, please, this was hardly anything to score about," Hermione returned to her work, the beginnings of her own grin on her face. 

Draco remembered something, "Would you like to study today?"

Hermione agreed with a nod, "I don't see why not."

"Great, because I haven't seen Crookshanks in days, and I'm sure he misses me,"  Draco said. 

They worked in silence after that, for their work required concentration. Draco was a little apprehensive, thinking that she might bring up the events of the day before later, but she showed no indication of doing so. One side of his mind was glad she hadn't brought it up, but another part, the slightly more sensitive part of him, was disappointed. Did she not care if he was doing fine or not? Didn't she care about how he behaved with her at all?

Annoyed with himself and his arguing sides, he furrowed his brows and tried not to think about anything else. 

The day before, when he had seen her disappearing around the corner at the hospital, he had felt a strange sort of pain. It had been just a pang and had lasted for just a moment, like a pin prick or a quick paper cut. But he had felt it all the same. 

"Both of you, come to the front please."

Hermione and Draco glanced at each other, surprised at the sudden call. Each wiped their hands in their aprons and followed the sound of Mr. Blak's voice. 

He was standing near the door with a letter in his hands, and his face strangely dull.

"Is everything okay?" Hermione asked slowly. 

"Not okay, no," Mr. Blak said in a low voice, "I have to leave...urgent call...take care of the customers who come here and don't send them away. I'll be back tomorrow, I should think."

Draco and Hermione exchanged a look, and Draco plainly saw the worry on her face. 

"Will you, then? Take care of the apothecary?" Mr. Blak asked, folding the letter up and placing it in his chest pocket. 

"Of course," Draco said, knowing by the look in Mr. Blak's face that something was wrong. 

"Good," Mr. Blak said. He cast a last look around the apothecary, then turned and swept through the door. 

Silence reined for what seemed like a long time, before Hermione said worriedly, "What do you think has happened?" 

Draco shook his head, "I don't know."

Hermione looked around, searching for any hints that would tell them what had the stoic Mr. Blak so worried. Hermione's eyes stopped over the counter, "Look."

Draco followed her gaze, and spotted what had caught her eye. There was a small photograph on the counter, barely the size of Draco's palm. 

He picked it up to examine it, and turned it the right way. 

It showed two people, one of whom was undoubtedly a younger Mr. Blak, and the other was a girl. The picture wasn't colored, but it could be made out that the girl had light hair, and dark eyes. Both the young people in the picture were in school robes, Mr. Blak's sporting the Slytherin coat of arms while the girl's robe had Hufflepuff's badger. They were laughing and waving at the camera, with their arms wrapped happily around each other.

"His sister, or friend, maybe?" Draco suggested. Hermione was looking at the picture as well, so that she was standing right beside Draco. Their shoulders brushed. 

"Maybe," Hermione said, not sounding quite convinced. 

Draco tucked the picture inside the pages of Mr. Blak's diary that was on the table, and put the diary under the counter. 

"I'll finish our potions," Hermione said, "We'll take turns with attending to the customers."

"Right," Draco walked around the counter, and Hermione went back to the work area. 

The moment she had gone, someone walked into the store. Draco took a moment to recognise him, but then he realised it was Terry Boot. 

"What do you want?" Draco questioned coldly, crossing his arms in an unwelcoming manner. 

Terry briefly furrowed his eyebrows, "I'm here on behalf of the Ministry, actually."

"Terry?" 

Draco had half a mind to bodily shove Terry back out the door just so that Hermione wouldn't say "Terry" in that infuriating manner.

Hermione came to the front, and to Draco's greatest dismay, held Terry for an embrace. 

"When you said you worked at the apothecary, I didn't know you meant this one," Terry said happily, "I'll have to come more often now."

Draco scowled, "We don't usually allow dawdlers here."

Terry seemed not to hear him. 

"So, what brings you here?" Hermione hadn't noticed the irritated look on Draco's face. 

"Actually, the person who was supposed to come here today called in sick, so I offered to come in his stead," Terry explained, "The Ministry required some Flumbumble Treacle. A group of wizards dropped Alihotsy all over themselves, and they've been laughing their arses off since the past hour."

Hermione burst out laughing herself, and Draco's eyebrow twitched. 

"We're out of Flumbumble," Draco found himself saying. 

"Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy, I think there are a few flasks left," Hermione disappeared in between the shelves, and came back with three flasks full of Flumbumble. She handed them to Terry, who accepted them gratefully. 

"That'll be thirty galleons," Hermione said.

"Right, let me get the- can you hold these for a moment?" 

Terry dumped all the flasks into Draco's arms, and Draco barely managed to prevent any of them from falling and breaking. 

"There," Terry counted the Galleons out of a purple bag bearing the Ministry's cost of arms, and dropped them into the cash register which Hermione had opened for him. 

Draco glowered at Terry, "We're out of bags, so you'll have to carry them this way."

Hermione gave him a curious look, but this time she didn't correct his lie. 

"That's no problem," Terry said, repositioning the flasks so that he could hold them better, "Thanks, Hermione."

With only a polite nod to Draco, Terry left. 

"Stupid oaf doesn't even have the sense to shrink the flasks," Draco muttered angrily and slammed the cash register closed, "What a pathetic idiot."

"Jealousy isn't a good look on you, you know," Hermione said over her shoulder, for she was already going back to work. 

Draco's heart jumped, "Why in Merlin would I be jealous of him? I'm not jealous of him!"

Hermione made no answer, but Draco was left thinking about what she had said for a long, long time.

Was he jealous? Yes, yes he was. But what exactly was he jealous of? That, he was unaware of. Till now.

Hermione didn't hum while she worked, breaking her usual custom. She seemed to be deep in thought about something, or maybe Draco just assumed she was by the way her eyebrows were knitted together.

He quickly looked away when Hermione happened to glance to the front, and made a show of arranging some empty bottles that were already in perfect order over the counter. 

The customers didn't come in hoards. Rather they came every once in a while. They were all regular customers, save the St Mungo's worker who came to ask for Vitamax Potion. 

After break, Draco set about dusting the shelves and putting empty vials and bottles to a side so that they could be reused. Just because he was a perfectionist in things such as arrangement, he added small labels under each part of the shelf stating what kind of potions were on there. 

"You can work now, I'll take up the front." Hermione said out of the blue, and Draco startled. 

"Did I scare you?" Hermione asked, smirking.

"No, you bloody well did not," Draco lied. He tossed her the duster and wiped his hands on his apron.