Draco had taken it upon himself to pick up the coffee, tea, and pastries for this mornings business meeting. Normally he would have gladly let the responsibility fall on his assistant's shoulders, but he was grateful for the opportunity to get out of the house earlier than usual.
Astoria had been harder to console last night. She spent three hours trying to convince him that she was going to leave. He knew that she wouldn't, of course. Marrying Draco was something she could only ever have aspired to in the past. This was going to be the highlight of her life. But he had to play the attentive fiancée role, ensuring her that he loved her and run a comforting hand down her back as tears wracked her body.
Bloody hell, he thought, remembering last night, if I knew she would have been this much drama, I would have chosen Pansy instead. Pansy would have loved to become Lady Malfoy, he knew. She dreamed about it since they could talk, of course. She had been the logical choice when the time came for him to take a bride, but her family had been too closely aligned with his own during the War.
While they remained good friends, Pansy had taken Draco's relationship with Astoria personally, and had seemed to permanently attach herself to Theodore Nott's hip. Not that Nott minds much, Draco chuckled. Nott had build an impressive fortune after his father's estate had been stripped away. Draco wasn't sure what business Nott was involved in, as they rarely spoke but on formal occasions, but found himself wondering if the business was entirely legal.
That type of money only comes from one place… Draco was so lost in thought as he entered the coffee shop that he bumped into someone walking out.
"Watch yourself," he huffed, not at all in the mood to deal with people this morning.
He noticed the girl – was she a girl? Sure she was short, but she seemed filled out – had spilled tea down the front of her jumper. He felt bad for a moment before he brushed past her, anxious to get back to his thoughts.
Hermione was incredibly glad she had pulled a hat on over her short hair, though she was sure he would still recognize her. Without saying a word, she dried the front of her jumped and walked out of Hazel's Honey Pot.
What a ridiculous name for a place, Hermione snorted as she opened the door at Flourish and Blotts. Ah, home. She had not found a bookstore that compared in all of her traveling, and was excited to waste her day away. Nearly running to the nearest display, Hermione almost felt like herself again.
She hadn't noticed that morning had turned into afternoon turned into evening and that half the lanters in Diagon Alley had been lit. Safely seated between the window and the mountain of books she had collected, Hermione found herself actually enjoying her day. How strange. Sure, she had some great memories from the last three years. She loved learning to ski in the Swiss Alps, or making pasta from scratch in Italy. She fondly remembered sneaking into a taping of some ridiculous television show in California, and learning Chinese as she traveled to see the Great Wall.
But Hermione would never lie to herself. Every time she left to travel to a new place, every time she said goodbye to the friends she knew she wouldn't keep in touch with, every time she saw a glint of red hair, or glasses… Merlin, the shape of his glasses, Hermione would fall apart a little.
She usually spent the first few weeks in a new city completely closed off. She would wallow in her emptiness before throwing herself into the culture she sought to experience. This would work for a few months, usually, before she felt herself falling apart again. Then it was always time to leave. She would promise her friends she would keep in touch, knowing it was a lie, and make plans to return. She would never return. Never. She knew loss, it was as real to her as the air she breathed, and once people were gone from her life, she knew they could never return.
This was how she coped with losing so many friends, mentors, teachers, and loved ones during the Final Battle. She merely adjusted to thinking they were gone, like so many other friends and lovers over the last three years. Surely they couldn't really be dead. No, Fred's laughter still filled the Burrow. Tonks and Lupin were still anxiously awaiting the arrival of Teddy. Yes, this was much better. This made her feel less guilty that she had survived, instead of dozens of wizards who had been trained and prepared. She didn't deserve to survive.
Her eyes were tired, she was sure her charms had worn off and the circles were obvious, but she didn't care. Lost in a world far different from her own, Hermione relished the ability to feel for the heroine in the story. She found it hard to glance away as she heard someone clearing their throat in front of her.
"Miss Granger?" Hermione smiled at the shop boy, knowing he was slightly intimidated by her reputation.
"My boss wanted me to inform you that we are now closed for a regular business day, and while he would enjoy nothing more than to let a war hero such as yourself continue reading into the night, he is quite concerned that you have not eaten today," he trailed off, knowing it was not his place to babysit Hermione, "but if you would like to continue your books, we could have them sent to your residence."
Hermione continued her practiced smile at the boy. She had not realized how late it had gotten, and now that he mentioned it, she felt the pangs of hunger.
"I am grateful for your offer, but please, allow me to pay for the books, including the three I finished today," she said reaching into her handbag.
"Oh, no, we could never accept that. Not after everything you did for us," the boy stammered, blushing.
Hermione was not in the mood to be fawned over. That's why she left, after all, so she just nodded, "have the lot sent to the Leaky Cauldron, please."
Leaving the shop, Hermione realized few businesses were still open this time of night. Curse her for getting lost in a book. She blushed thinking back to the book she had been reading, too. It wasn't one she would normally pick up, but the idea of a daring star-crossed-lovers romance seemed appealing to her right now.
Merlin, would I love a good shag, she thought, instantly cursing her head for going there. Hermione had been with men, of course, but it never lived up to her standards. Many times she used sex as a way to keep people around, to trick herself into thinking they cared about her. She knew they only stayed for her body, but she would tell herself that they loved her as she let them in.
She shook her head, walking back to the Leaky Cauldron. She'd order a Firewhiskey, or five, and some food before bed.
Draco hadn't had a very productive day today. He had been out of sorts since he had ran into that witch in the coffee shop. His day had been made infinitely worse to come back to the Manor to find Daphne and Blaise had been invited for dinner.
Plastering on a smile as his fiancée greeted him in the entry way, Draco listened as Astoria told him that it only made sense to have the Best Man and Maid of Honor over for dinner and drinks.
"Of course, love, whatever you think is best," Draco responded, mechanically.
Blaise caught his tone and winked, "Draco, mate, lets make these ladies some drinks," he laughed as he pulled Draco into one of the lavishly decorated seating rooms.
"Wow, Greengrass wasted no time redecorating, did she? Are you sure you can afford a wedding after this?" Blaise asked, looking around.
"Don't remind me. It's nice to have some light in here after everything, but Merlin, the woman knows how to shop," Draco moaned as he poured drinks. He knew Astoria and Daphne would be awhile. Astoria had changed her mind, again, on the style of her dress robes, and would want Daphne's approval before sending the design to her wedding coordinator.
"Hey, Draco, what's up? Sarah said you weren't yourself all day at work. She even said she had to remind you about the meeting with China today," Blaise was far too observant.
"First, stop hitting on my secretary. She shouldn't be telling you these things," Draco's stare could have killed a man, had Blaise not had twenty years of practice ignoring it.
"I can't help it if every girl you hire wants me," he chuckled.
"I can fire you." Draco drawled.
"You still wouldn't be rid of me, though. Pretty sure Lady Malfoy is still trying to get me to fall in love with her sister. The way she parades Daphne in front of me, the farce of wedding planning to get us together for dinner, we could be brothers soon," Blaise threw a pillow at Draco, who wasn't paying attention.
"Don't call her Lady Malfoy. My mother still lives, as if I need to remind you. She is the true lady of the Manor. If I had any other option…" Draco responded.
"Let's be serious, Draco, Astoria is the best you're going to get for this image you're trying to convey. She's beautiful. She's untouched by the war. She's got the pedigree, even ignoring the blood status. The only way you'd do better is to marry Granger," he threw himself down on the couch, totally at ease in same sitting room Granger had been tortured in not even five years ago. Draco winced at that thought. "And we both know that would never happen."
Blaise was right, Draco knew it. While his business was going well and the Malfoy investments were flourishing, he knew public opinion had not changed. He was a Malfoy. He looked too much like his father. No amount of damage control would change that. No amount of donations to charity, no good deeds. He was damned. And he would be stuck with Astoria forever.
"Fuck," Draco muttered, finishing his glass of firewhiskey, "maybe I do need Granger."
"Yeah, I could see it now, Potter and Weasley would shit fireworks," Blaise finished as the girls walked into the sitting room, giggling about something.
Draco found himself at that same coffee shop the next morning. He didn't know why his feet lead him there, but he had time to kill before his first meeting. The place was busier than normal for a Friday. Probably because it's snowing outside, he thought, searching for a seat near the fire, where he could stay warm until he needed to leave.
He spotted a familiar looking hat and felt slightly embarrassed at the way he yelled at the poor girl when it was his fault that he wasn't paying attention. With a cup of tea in both hands, he made his way over to her. She has an empty seat, maybe if I apologize for yesterday, she wont mind if I sit near her. Besides, her nose is shoved into a book anyway, he thought.
"Peace offering?" he said in a strong, steady tone, causing her to glance up from her book, obviously caught off guard.
Gray eyes met amber.
"Fuck," he cursed a little too loudly, causing the heads near him to turn.
Draco spun on his heel, heading out into the snow. What were the chances? He hadn't seen her since the Final Battle. She avoided his trial. And every charity event, even when they were both being honored. But she was here. In Diagon Alley. In his coffee shop. Blocks from his office. What were the chances?
He barely noticed as a hand reached up to touch his shoulder as he was waiting to cross the street.
Hermione loved the snow. It had been one of her favorite parts of winters at Hogwarts. She had been anxious to get her morning started, knowing she had some business to attend to before heading to Hogwarts. McGonagall had found out Hermione was back in town, not that she was hiding or being discreet, and had invited her to the castle for a late lunch.
She never expected to run into Draco Malfoy. And he had even been acting civil. Surely he didn't know it was her, then. Was the short hair and hat enough to make him forget the girl he teased relentlessly for years?
Then he was running out of the coffee shop. He looked like he had seen a ghost. She, of course, shoved her book in her handbag and followed him out into the snow. He was mumbling to himself as she walked up behind him. She noticed he had two cups of tea, and smiled slightly remembering yesterday. At least he's not above making amends these days, she thought as she reached up and gingerly touched his shoulder.