Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot
Although it wasn't all that much of an occasion, Hermione found herself smoothing her skirt over and over again – taking second glances at the mirror to check up, fidgeting with her hair, and straightening her coat.
Oh come off it, she thought. It's only Harry and Malfoy.
It's only Malfoy.
But that was the thing, because it was Malfoy… and the way he made her feel so cheap and middle class when he steps out in his tailor made suits and his slick combed hair. The way the money jangled in his pocket, the way he walked in long, elegant strides, the way his poise was enough to make Hermione look like a mere commoner.
But she isn't a mere commoner. She is Hermione Granger, war veteran, brain of the Golden Trio, and supposedly ex-girlfriend of Ron Weasley, and a fragile young woman who is losing herself to the clutches of confusion.
She wouldn't let it get that far. Picking up her wand, she disapparated to the Ministry.
Years later she would scold herself for being so pedantic about the whole thing – it was just a lunch, and really, there wasn't much to it that required professionalism.
Harry was waiting outside her office door when she arrived. Clad in a navy dress jacket and black slacks, she thought he looked rather dashing despite his short figure.
"Ready to go?"
"Mmm."
No, not ready to go.
"Where's lunch at again?"
They were early. Five minutes early to be exact.
"You're early."
"I'm always early." she snapped.
True, true.
"So why did you want me here today again?" It was a while before any of them attempted to make an answer, Harry shifted in his seat.
"Its about...Ron."
His voice was muffled by the comfortable hum of the restaurant. He swallowed. Ahh...how was he going to explain it again?
It was about Pansy...yes, this would all be about Pansy, nothing really. Then why was his back suddenly stiff and his hands involuntarily shaking?
Her smile, "What about Ron?"
The men exchanged glances.
"I-"
"He-
"Of course you know that I was acquaintances with Pansy...and-"
"And Ron's been seeing Pansy behind your back-"
"And I think he really loves her-"
"And he tried to propose to her the other day-"
"He what?" The smile left her face. It was going to at some point. "So you mean, he, Pansy? He knew I was going to decline the proposal? He knew! All this was for show, wasn't it? And at my flat...that was Pansy? Pansy was at my flat? My flat!"
"Pansy was at your flat?" Harry asked.
"What was Pansy doing at your flat?" What was Pansy doing at her flat? Unless...
She was positively shaken, he could tell by the way the color left her cheeks and the words leave her mouth. There was stuttering.
"When did you find out?"
It was a quiet, scared voice - almost shrill, and he didn't like it one bit.
Trust the best friend to do the condolences.
"Hermione, we know you love him a lot-"
"That's not it." a breath, maybe two, "He lied to me. Ron lied to me."
"Pansy told me yesterday. Slipped her mouth. We were having coffee at the Manor, discussing business, the Malfoy heirloom, etc."
They were quiet - and he felt the incessant gnawing at his stomach because of the silence. They made small talk, ate quickly, and all too soon it was time to part ways.
No one moved.
"Well." said Harry, "I think its time for me to go. It's been nice meeting both of you. Hermione, please take care of yourself." she flashed a hesitant smile.
He disapparated, which left the two of them there, awkwardly acknowledging each other's presence. She sipped her coffee, he folded his napkin.
There were no words, only the wringing of hands and the bitter taste of words left unsaid. Breathing came naturally, but in that instant, it was a bother for both of them. She was taking sudden shaky breaths and he wasn't taking enough.
He spoke.
"I'm sorry."
She replied.
"I'm sorry too."
And in that moment, everything that had ever happened between them seemed to disappear like sun on a winter's evening.
She couldn't believe it.
Ron would never lie to her, never! It was something lovers never did...
But they weren't lovers, and maybe she was doing some lying of her own too.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too."
Something about that simple conversation irked her to no end. Was there a mutual understanding? A forgiving, perhaps, a time of repair and a time of atonement for the years that were left untouched between them.
What was it about Malfoy that had her on edge for the past couple of days? It wasn't like he had offended her or anything, it was just him being there.
Of course it was the years, she reminded herself. She was twenty-four now, hadn't she been only seventeen when she last laid her eyes on him?
Seven years. It had been that long?
There was a sharp rap at the door.
"Hermione? You there?"
Ginny. Marvelous, wonderful Ginny.
"Coming Ginny." And she was on her feet again, bounding, happy, home. Maybe it was the fact that they had been so close as to call them sisters, or maybe it was the fact that she was her best friend's sister, and best friend's girlfriend.
Wrong, her ex-bestfriend's sister.
But none the less, a sister anyway.
Ginny came into the room, all limbs and heart warming smiles. They made sisterly chatter as they settled into the room, unpacking the bags, making tea - it was all part of the act of feeling at home again.
She was hoping that Ginny wouldn't bring it up. Hoping that Harry hadn't told her.
"Harry told me about Ron."
Damn.
"Oh its nothing, I'm perfectly fine, see?" A complete lie, and she knew better than to lie.
It surprised her most when fresh tears splattered the carpet.
"Oh Hermione..."
She hadn't realised that she had fallen forward into Ginny's arms, crying, feeling the hole eat up her heart a little bit more. She hadn't loved Ron, she hadn't...but why were the days without him agony, and why did she feel like that there was nothing left?
Maybe she loved him...a little bit.
It was the best that sisters could do. Hug and smile and pretend it didn't affect the the way it did.
Draco was fairly convinced that he had been offered Head of Finance because of his love for money, not because of his love for sums (and there was a great lack of that), and because even with his indifferent disposition and his bored attitude, he could still make heads turn and shadows cower. Head of Finance was given to frumpy old ladies with O's in Arithmancy and didn't mind if their coffee was cold.
He sure was grumpy, and it was his birthday, but no one bothered to acknowledge it, and the migraine had been killing his head for days now.
A coffee. I need. A Coffee.
"Becky, mind my office, set no appointments, I'll be back in ten." Ahh, screw the ten, maybe give it thirty...
The walk to the cafe was strenous. Bits of debris lined his shoes, Christmas Carols were sung, and people wouldn't stop staring. To hell with walking, he thought, and apparated suddenly.
The cafe was full. Damn, he had been looking for some 'alone' time with the Prophet and a hot mug of cappuccino. It didn't take long for his sweeping eyes to set themselves onto an empty seat, and he found just what he was looking for, except...
The table was occupied by Granger.
Surely after yesterday she had accepted him as an acquaintance? Oh definitely not friends, they were far from that - but surely, an acquaintance?
He sat down anyway.
She looked up, startled.
"Malfoy."
"Granger."
An uncomfortable pause.
"I don't recall inviting you to coffee."
"I don't recall either."
At least she didn't deny his existence.
"This is not a date." she clarified.
Ha, so she was scared of the notion of having a date. Perhaps he'd try asking her sometime
"Oh no - I don't even like you enough to call this a date." She didn't reply, sipping at intervals. "So what brings you here?"
"What do you think? Coffee, of course." she said. "What brings you here?"
"Coffee, of course."
"Why my table?"
"It was the only free table."
"In case you haven't noticed, it's currently occupied."
"Yeah, because I'm sitting here."
He fiddled with the galleons in his pocket, selfishly enjoying the presence of another human being, absent-mindedly fidgeting with the buttons on his jacket.
"So you come here often?"
"Often enough. You?"
"Becky gets my coffee for me. I hardly ever get time to sit down myself and enjoy it." Until today, that is, he wanted to say, but it would seem a too friendly gesture.
The invitation in his chest pocket itched.
Don't scratch - she'll look.
"So what's it like being Head of Finance?" He was so caught up in worrying over how to give her the invitation that he hadn't notice her place down her mug and open her mouth to speak.
"I uh, what?"
"What's it like being Head of Finance?" she said, annoyed now.
"Refreshing. Keeps me up to date in my calculating." she snorted.
"I had expected something like 'Head of Finance is a breeze - I have coffee everyday and dump the workload on my secretary.'" he cocked an eyebrow, slightly infuriated, but more or less amused.
"Are you suggesting that you don't have coffee everyday?" she chuckled lightly.
"You pick up on the most absurd of things, Malfoy." she glanced up from the Prophet, "I do have coffee everyday - not that it would do you any good anyway."
Perhaps it would - he'd just have to make time to take a coffee everyday.
"Always at this time?"
"Always."
"So then it wouldn't surprise me if I came again tomorrow, at four, and see you sitting here, sipping coffee?" Her eyes widened slightly.
"Malfoy, are you asking me out on a date?" he chuckled lightly.
"You pick up on the most absurd of things, Granger." he shifted back in his seat, "And if it would settle you somewhat, no, I am not asking you on a date." But he definitely would've liked it to be one.
"And besides, it's my birthday today, can't you guarantee me some sort of answer?"
"Answer to what?"
"Will you be here tomorrow?"
She frowned slightly, pursing her lips.
"Yes."
"Good." Reaching into his pocket, he plucked out the invitation, "Potter wanted me to give you this." and slipped it under her plate. Taking advantage of her concentration in opening the envelope, he disapparated.
He hoped she didn't notice.
"Good." she watched as he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a rather elegant looking envelope.
"Potter wanted me to give you this." Harry? What did Harry want to give her?
It was an invitation of sorts, with embroidered trimmings and flowing cursive.
You are invited to the annual Malfoy Ball.
The Ball will take place at Malfoy Manor and begin at 7 o'clock sharp on the 19th of September.
RSVP to Draco Malfoy by the 10th of September.
We hope to see you there.
The 19th of September.
19th September.
Her Birthday.
"Uhh, Malfoy, what's this got to do with Harry? And it's really kind of you to ask me, but it's on my birthday, so I'm afraid I won't be able to make it-"
He had already gone.
Third chapter is finally up! Don't expect the fourth chapter to be coming any sooner either - school work is pretty busy
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