Bridging the Gap

This oneshot is set post-Hogwarts, where Hermione goes to an engagement party for her best friend but struggles to bridge the gap between their two worlds.

"I'm really not sure about this," Hermione argued, staring at her reflection in the vanity. Her skin looked fresher from the powder that had been dotted all over it; her lips were more visible than they'd ever been in this smearing of red; her eyes seemed cavernous, surrounded by carefully blended dark colours and thick lashes. Around the masterpiece, her hair lay smooth and styled from the old trick; Sleekeazy's potion. Lifting it up by the edges to see the full effect, her simple but vibrant cocktail dress matched her lips, and the gold heels accented it perfectly. It looked as though someone had used Polyjuice to morph into her body, and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not. From the other side of the room a shoe came flying at her, which Hermione luckily managed to halt with her rapid reflexes developed from the Second Wizarding War, still managing to produce a perfectly impressive protego charm in milliseconds. If she didn't have other, much more life threatening events going on right now she would have been proud.

"I mean it Hermione- or the next thing I throw will be an Unforgivable," said her best friend seriously, making the lioness fold her arms over her chest and pout like a toddler throwing a tantrum. The blonde crossed over to her, and with a much gentler manner added, "If anyone attempts to shed a single drop of your blood on my special day, I'll be the one going on a murder spree." Even when she was being lovely, it was impossible to forget that Daphne Greenglass was no less Slytherin than any of the Death Eaters they'd faced years ago. It was a strange friendship; no doubt, but one that had sprung then flourished in the years after they graduated. They'd both gotten jobs in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and at first, knowing little about her ex-schoolmate except that she'd never actually called her a mudblood (because the only way they'd ever spoken was if they were paired up in class), Hermione had expected sabotage and competition, but the two of them had been set on the same task and struck it off immediately. On the first night they went out for a drink and things only blossomed from there. She was still just as close with Harry and the Weasleys, but they retained their old prejudices and struggled to believe how someone like her could be friends with a Pureblood whose family had supported Voldemort, albeit they'd really been rather more neutral and pragmatic than anything else. She didn't particularly blame them as, honestly, she felt much the same way about the others in her friend's house, and preferred to think of her as her funny, encouraging work mate rather than that popular girl who'd hung around with her worst enemies at school.

But today the two worlds were finally crashing together at a calamitous rate, far too fast for her to jump off the train, leaving her locked in her seat. Perhaps she'd have been more confident if the opposing sides had been more even, but as it was she felt as though she were about to dive headfirst into the snake pit, which the little Ravenclaw voice in her head that the sorting hat had identified was telling her was not the best idea for self-preservation.

"Fine," She unfolded her arms and clasped one of Daphne's hands in her own, gazing straight into her oceanic blue eyes. "But you can't leave me, alright? Especially not with any ex-Death Eaters- certainly not, Godric forbid, Malfoy!"

The blonde squeezed her hand. "You're my maid of honour! Sisters before misters, and all that, right? Although my soon to be husband is mighty fine, so that makes it slightly more of a close call..." Hermione gave a nervous chuckle, and sensing that her words weren't quite comfort enough, Daphne marched over to her bed, reached underneath and pulled out a bottle of vodka.

Hermione's eyebrows raised to the roof. She knew Daphne still lived with her strict parents, per Pureblood tradition, but, for better or for worse, they weren't teenagers anymore! She still hid her beverages from them? "I'm sure that won't be very cool..." Daphne gestured her over, pulling up the covers to reveal a huge stash, releasing a (presumably magical) chilling blast that legitimately made Hermione shiver. Pouring them each a shot, Daphne told her to come up here if at any point in the night she thought that a couple of glasses of champagne wasn't strong enough to cut through the awkwardness. "What's yours is mine, right?"

Hermione laughed, a little more fully this time, taking the shot glass gratefully. "You know I'm not the one you're marrying, right?"

"I could be bigamous babes," Daphne teased, with a scandalous wink. "To my perfect night," she held up her own shot glass and they downed them in synch, both shaking their heads and screwing up their eyes.

"Eurgh, that's rank!"

"Whatever it takes to get you outside. Right now!" Daphne shrieked, grabbing her hand again and pulling her out of the door.

It truly was the most gorgeous engagement party; not that Hermione had been to more than one before. Harry and Ginny had decided to tie the knot two years ago, seeing little reason to wait since they were certain they had an epic once-in-a-lifetime kind of love. Ever since Ginny had flashed that ring at them, it was as if a pincer had been closing in on Hermione too. She could feel Ron looking at her, knowing what he wanted, what his family wanted. And she loved him, but that wasn't what she wanted just yet. There was her career, and... Well, she just wasn't sure. Looking at Ron she didn't see the two of them sitting side by side in armchairs when they were old and grey, at least not as life partners, certainly as best friends, with Harry alongside them as well. When she arrived home from work on the day that she'd decided to tell him however, he dropped down on one knee. She'd been stunned, but had pushed on, gentle but firm. Then she'd gone to Daphne's to tell her about it, cry and scoff down a whole tub of ice cream. Things were better now though: she and Ron were back to friendship, not all of the awkwardness was erased but they were working on it; and it was liberating to have her own flat. She hadn't realised how much they'd been stepping on each other's' toes; how nice it was not to have an argument before she dropped off to sleep every night.

Anyway, back to the party she was actually at. Her fiancé's parents were paying for the wedding and the honeymoon was a joint effort, so Daphne's parents had spared no expense on their eldest daughter's engagement. There were hired peacocks traversing the grounds, eternal-lasting fireworks (aka twelve hours), magically re-filling snack stations stacked with caviar and truffles, and fountains flowing with champagne. Less wonderful, people were beginning to arrive. Daphne's little sister Astoria was lounging with a few of her friends, whilst their parents were at the far end of the garden with a boy she recognised from school and two other middle aged wizards. Grabbing her hand, Daphne pulled her over to them, clearing her throat to announce her. "Lord and Lady Nott?" She greeted with a trained smile that still managed to somehow appear natural. "This is my best friend Hermione Granger." The two grey haired wizards surveyed her with interest, making her gulp, but she stood tall, reminding herself that she'd faced far worse than a few Purebloods in her time. The chiselled boy with them raised his eyebrows in an immensely attractive aristocratic gesture, tickling his fingers along Daphne's in a teasing way to challenge her, making her drop Hermione's hand with a mischievous smirk at him; the whole sticking by each other thing was off to an excellent start. "Hermione, this is my scoundrel of a choice for a life partner, Theodore Nott." She forced a smile and a nod towards him, surprised to see that his own at her seemed rather genuine, albeit brief, his attention was back to Daphne in seconds. Lady Greenglass suggested they spread out to greet the guests, sending the couple off in the opposite direction. They'd taken a couple of steps when Daphne looked back over her shoulder and begged Hermione to come with them. She took a moment to consider if she wanted to be a third wheel, but decided it must be better than facing this bloodbath of a night alone.

"Sure."

She was wrong. They were stuck by the arch that welcomed people in with an explosion of confetti every time someone walked by it, hearing every single delighted shriek. She was enjoying the single life, but there was nothing like standing with an engaged couple at their party greeting tides and tides of paired up wizards to make you want someone to face it all with. Especially when you didn't have any alcohol to dull the pain; you had to walk a few steps further to get to the champagne. And especially when the guests in question either greeted the pair excitedly and ignored the muggleborn or stared at her suspiciously and confusedly, as though she was a puzzle piece their brains couldn't seem to fit into this idyllic heaven. There were a few who looked down their noses at her with cold eyes, but those had lessoned since the war, more seemed nervous that she was a spy sent to get them put into Azkaban. Then there were the ones she feared most of all; those she knew from school. Pansy Parkinson and Tracey Davis, who squealed with delight as they hugged Daphne, whispering like classic film mean girls as they disappeared, pointing at Hermione, seemingly unworried that she had eyes and could see them doing this. Crabbe and Goyle, who were the definition of 'bros' as they thumped Theo on the back so hard he looked a little sick, then sort of froze when they recognised Hermione and just stood there for a few minutes. Blaise Zabini, who didn't recognise her and decided to flirt, an advance she immediately pushed away. Then there was the big one; Malfoy. And he didn't just arrive alone, but with both of his parents. Narcissa kissed Daphne happily on both cheeks whilst Lucius shook Theo's hand, leaving the two of them to stare at each other in silence. He looked a little better than he had in the last couple of years of school; understandably a stressful period in his life. He'd gained a little weight which made him look healthy rather than a skeleton, and he actually seemed to have a slightly more tanned complexion. She used that word lightly though, since it just meant he wasn't as pale as a wedding dress, but nonetheless it worked for him. His hair was much more well-groomed than it had been in those months where he'd been agonising over killing Dumbledore, and it could just be a trick of the light, but his eyes seemed less blank; a little more hopeful. He opened his mouth as if to say something: an insult? A greeting? An apology? But Daphne linked her arm through Hermione's, making a last swishing movement with her wand to check off the family on the parchment guest list, she beamed at the three. "As my hostess duties have been fulfilled, my stomach's calling for some caviar!" They marched towards a food table, with the two boys following behind at a distance, their exact conversation inaudible in the throng of noise.

"Daph?" Hermione murmured, glancing up at the house. Daintily putting some pate into her mouth, her friend made an 'hmm?' Noise. "I'd like some more of that vodka now please."

A few shots later, Hermione re-emerged, patting down her hair and taking a deep breath. Take two. She could do this; only a few more hours. She'd aced her N.E.W.T's, she'd broken into Bellatrix Lestrange's vault and ridden out alive, she'd destroyed a horcrux; this should be a piece of cake. "Granger!" Her traitorous body span her around, despite her mind's protestations at the familiar voice. She felt stuck in the mud as he strode up to her, pausing, perhaps it was just going to be silence again. Just as she managed to gather the gumption to move her foot he spoke. "I-I didn't know you were this close to Daphne. I mean, she's mentioned you work together but..."

"You didn't think she'd ever ask a mudblood to be her maid of honour?" The word had a visible effect on him; making him go as pale as he used to be. He seemed to revert to his Sixth Year self, making her feeling guilty as she quickly apologised and then darted off before he could say anything else. She never thought Draco Malfoy would be able to evoke that emotion in her; it was uncomfortable to realise he could. She tried to peer around to see where he'd gone but he'd vanished. The expression on his face had looked as though he was about to vomit. But he was the one who'd harassed her with those names when they were younger; why should he be the one who was pitied? Time for some more liquid strength, perhaps a swig rather than a shot this time.

Standing up after sneaking to the toilet, which was quiet and peaceful until someone started banging on the door, Hermione felt the drink go to her head all of a sudden. She placed her hands on the walls either side of her, staring into the mirror at her wild eyes and whispering "Godric..." With a long exhale and a flicking of her tongue to bring herself back to the manor, she went to go find Daphne, quite in the mood for a dance.

Her friend indulged her for a few minutes, laughing and linking arms as they spun around doing an Irish jig to the waltzing music, but then that damn Nott appeared, wobbling around in her vision, asking if he could cut in. Forcing a smile, she pushed Daphne away, telling her she had to dance with her fiancé at her engagement party or she might not have a fiancé tomorrow. Her bout of laughter faded off as the two got into slow dance position and everyone on the grass began to pair up. Without someone to dance with, Hermione sunk into a chair like an old spinster, although actually even they were being asked to dance. "It's a Pureblood tradition!" Called Daphne with a glint in her eye. "When the affianced couple begins to dance at their party, everyone else has to follow their lead." Hermione cast her eye around, but everyone was already paired up. Only two boys didn't have a partner, and go figure, they were Zabini and Malfoy. The Italian boy was walking towards her with a predatory expression when a hand was extended in front of her. She glanced up to see the blond, although he was looking at his ex-housemate rather than her. Said boy had reached them now, offering out his hand as well. As she surveyed her two options, the first of them asked his friend somewhat blandly, "What do you want out of tonight Zabini?"

The Italian shrugged. "A nice fuck, isn't that what we all want to keep us warm at night?"

Ip, dip, doo. The prick who'd bullied her for years? The dog's got the flu. Or the playboy who apparently wanted to ravish her? The cat's got the pox. But the ferret did seem apologetic, even if he wasn't saying the words. So out goes...

"You," she pointed to Zabini, who grinned victoriously, but she shook her head, planting her hand in his competitor's. "Out goes you," she clarified for the Italian, standing up and pulling her chosen partner along with her. "Come on Malfoy, the song'll be over by the time we start moving to it."

It was a mighty good thing she'd had so much vodka by this point, there was no way she'd have willingly thrown her arms so haphazardly around the back of Malfoy's neck any other way. He was slower, the expression not disgust but uncertainty and self-doubt. Eventually he carefully threaded his arms around her waist, touching her so softly she could barely feel it. "How come you're here by yourself?" He asked.

"Ron and I broke up a couple of months ago," she explained. "He wants to get married, I don't. He wants kids, I don't want them with him. He says he loves me in a way I don't really love him." Not quite sure why she'd said that except that it had been what had spilled out of her mouth when it had opened, she watched his expression shift to intrigued, surprised, then that same one as earlier. "So!" She said, a little louder than she'd meant to. "Why'd you do that?" Malfoy looked confused, so she jerked her head at his friend, who had found a skinny blonde partner- she looked as though she'd ditched her own to swap.

Malfoy bit his lip, glancing down the short distance towards her. He was pretty small, nearly as small as her. If she'd been dancing with Zabini she'd be on her tip-toes, although he'd probably crouch down, anything to make it easier for her so they could get to his favourite part of the night faster. "Seeing you tonight made me realise how much I want to make things right. I thought it was enough to just do that through work and community life, but I want to sort it out with all of you Golden Trio as well." He shrugged. "It didn't seem like the best way to start to just let you be tricked into that if it wasn't what you wanted." He sighed. "I love Blaise, but sometimes I think he really needs to grow up."

She giggled. "He seems pretty fully grown to me! But you're sweet!" Without realising it, she was touching his cheek. Coming to her senses as the music changed, she dropped her hand as if she'd been holding a hot poker and hurried back inside, not sure whether she'd excused herself or not.

Back at the bottle, she splashed a little on her face, then realised that was foolish and wiped it off her cheeks as well as she could and took one more swig for good luck, but didn't taste anything. Wiggling the bottle in front of her, she realised it was lighter, and tipping it upside down nothing came out. Preparing to get another out, she placed it on the table, but slightly missed and it crashed to the floor. Luckily Daphne had a plush carpet, so she didn't have to worry about remembering a cleaning up spell she had no recollection of whatsoever right now.

"Come on dear," Hermione slipped the bottle under the bed with her foot as she heard Lady Greenglass's voice. "I know it must be a little overwhelming, but you're doing so well." She was being so nice, Hermione must have been super discreet, otherwise surely Daphne's mother would be scratching and clawing at her for filthying her daughter with nasty habits.

"Thanks. I'll head down," said Hermione, saying as little as she could to hide her inebriated state. She grabbed Daphne's perfume off the side table and sprayed it a few times, smiling at Lady Greenglass before going back out to the garden. By taking her time, she managed not to fall down the stairs on her way, and after a twirl through the crowd- finally managing to ignore what other people felt and enjoy herself for a little while- she accepted a glass and plopped herself down on a ledge.

"Having a good night?" Asked that voice again, with a smidge of amusement.

"You know what? I finally am!" She declared, raising her glass and toasting it with his, losing half in the process. "Are you following me or what?"

He gave a half smile from behind his own glass. "I also had a fairly recent break-up, so I'm not going to hang around with her." His eyes drifted over to Daphne's sister, who was, it seemed, the blonde who'd gone for Blaise. She was currently leading him into her house by the hand. "And as I said, I want to get to know you better."

"Well," she told him. "That sucks. And all you need to know about me is job, friends and vodk- OOP!" She burst out laughing, tumbling back into the champagne fountain she hadn't realised she was sitting on the edge of.

Malfoy's eyes widened to the size of bludgers and he leapt into action, pulling her back up and surveying her head with all the care of a doctor. "Salazar! Are you alright?" She moved her hand up to give him a sluggish thumbs up, although she could feel a little bit of a sting. Gently, he brushed her hair out of the way, his eyes scanning. "Well I can't see any blood but you might have a little lump in the morning."

"Oh no," she pouted. "I don't want that. Could you magically kiss it better?" Now his eyes dipped down to her level in confusion. She reached her hands up to his shoulders and pulled him down, "please?" She threw her arms around his neck like she had earlier when they were dancing, but this time instead of keeping her face a respectable distance away she crashed it right into his, lips on lips, addictive, tugging his gorgeous hair. There was a stunned non responsive moment, then his reflexes kicked in and he kissed her back, harder and stronger than she would have expected from his new meeker personality, but it was wonderful. When she tried to slip her tongue in though, he pushed her away, snapping his head around like Harry's old owl with long deep breaths. "You still hate me?" She asked, despising the horror in her own voice. Why did she care this much? She didn't care this much.

"Of course not!" He still wasn't looking at her though.

"Then wha-?"

"I can't purport to be warning you of Blaise's advances and then do the exact same!" He exclaimed, then ran his hands through his own hair in frustration.

"Technically..." she pointed out. "I'm the one advancing on you." Malfoy released his fisted hands and lifted her up, evoking a shocked giggle from Hermione as she threw her head back to look at him. "So you do like me? You're sending the wrong message with this romantic tableaux if not!"

Carrying her back towards the house, he replied, "if you must know, since I doubt you'll remember this tomorrow anyway, yes, I think I do like you, and no, I wouldn't be admitting this unless I was also a little pissed, but don't worry, I'm not as legless as you."

"I can walk with my perfectly functional legs!" She declared, wriggling out of his hold and demonstrating with a mocking look.

"Great," he placed his hands on his hips like a schoolteacher. "Now try it in a straight line." She stuck out her tongue, but as she was about to try they both noticed his ex underneath his friend on the sofa a few feet away. "Come on," Malfoy lifted her up again, his amused expression swapped for a sombre one. She stayed silent all the way up the stairs until he dropped her onto Daphne's bed.

"You're less scrawny than you used to be, but I still didn't think you were that strong."

Shutting the door, he came to sit on the bed next to her. "I may or may not have had a small wandless magic aid..."

She laughed, ending in a sigh as she stretched out, staring up at the ceiling, but suddenly feeling cold, so she gestured for him to lie down. He started to protest, but after promising she wouldn't molest him he acquiesced. "When did you and Astoria break up?"

"Last week," he said as though he were reading a fact out of a textbook.

"Godric..." she whispered. "But you seem to be doing as well as I am, who's been broken up for two months." She was vaguely aware the sentence made no grammatical sense, but that was about the last thing on her mind right now.

"I'll take that as a horribly cruel insult!"

She turned around on her side to face him. "Oi!" At the gesture towards her, she rolled her eyes, fairly slowly. "I'm not drinking cause of Ronald- well only because I don't have someone to stand by me at this stupid party- but there's no way he'ddda come anyways. Him and Harry wanted me to get a protection squad!" Malfoy's mouth quirked into a grin, roaring like a dangerous lion, setting her off on another laughing fit. "EXACTLY! Y'know, Drakkie," She put a hand on his chest, gripping the shirt without much force. "After Crouch-as-Moody punished you, we've always called you Ferret, but you're not really, are you? You're more like a protective mama bear."

His eyes widened in mock horror. "How very dare you Hermione?" He seemed to linger over the first name in a way she certainly hadn't his, not even having realised she'd used it. "I can be sly and tricky." It was wonderful seeing such light in his eyes, but it didn't last long, as the door began to open and he called out "OCCUPIED!" Blaise's hand poked in to form a nice symbol, accompanied by a childish feminine giggle as the door slammed shut again.

"What was she like to date?" Asked Hermione. "She's always preeeetty babyish when I'm around here." This comment brought back that look in him again, giving her the exhilarating feeling of levelling up on a game. It wasn't very fun when he was pouty. "You know, like annoying Daph and pestering her parents and screaming drunk as she comes in or tumbling down the stairs hungover-"

"You mean like you tomorrow?"

"I've never been hungover!" Hermione protested.

"I think you might be in for a new experience tomorrow," Draco muttered. She tried to talk, but was restricted by a long yawn. "Come on," he said, pulling up the covers around them. "Let's get some sleep."

"But there's still so mu-"

"Sleep," he ordered strictly, so she assented with a salute, shutting her eyes and finding herself overwhelmed by darkness rather quickly.

When she woke up in the morning, Hermione's head was pounding like someone had hit her with a stupefy curse. Groaning, she peeled open her eyes, recognising Daphne's bedroom. She rolled over to see if her friend was awake, but tumbled out of the bed with a shriek when she saw who the person sharing the bed actually was. The events of last night came back to her in an overwhelming flood of embarrassing polaroids, only frozen when Malfoy interrupted her by asking if she was alright. "Bad dream?"

"If by that you mean waking dream..." she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. Glancing back up at him then quickly averting her eyes, she asked "we didn't-?"

"No," he cut in quickly. "I just didn't think you should be alone in the state you were in."

"Who are you to say I'm in any state?" She exclaimed, getting to her feet and running her hands through her hair. She felt the zip partly undone on the back of her dress and immediately flung her hand back, yanking it up.

Malfoy crawled out of the bed towards her, making her eyes widen a little, but she didn't step away as he got closer. "The guy who helped you in said state," he pulled up the zip the remainder of the way for her, then stepped back a respectable distance.

Biting her lip, she remembered him carrying her, revealing things about his ex. "Thank you." Rejecting her drunken advances. Oh Godric! A blush coating her cheeks, she tried to dip her head to hide it, but when she looked up she could still feel it there, and she could still see the halo of bed-head around his face, the gentler curves to his face than she'd ever known. Godric- she wasn't a primary schooler having their first crush, she was a woman- who had to get her damn act together. "Just... forget about anything that happened last night, anything I said." She told him, heading for the door, but when he spoke she turned around.

"Is that an order?" He rose one eyebrow- she'd always wanted to be able to do that. "Because personally, I'd like to explore our sober feelings." Her mouth dropped open, but there was undeniable sincerity on his face- he wasn't mocking her, he was serious. Interrupting her stuttering, he continued, "I still feel the connection sober, and I think you do too."

It wasn't exactly a question, but she knew that he wanted an answer anyway. Remembering his smile as she planted her hand stupidly on his chest, his warning her of Blaise, his refusing to let her do something he knew she'd regret, even if he wanted to and was also not fully in his right mind. Who was she kidding? "Fine," her mouth quirked up. "Pick me up on Friday at 5."