A/N: First and foremost, sorry that it's been so long since my last update. Lets just say life has a way of catching up to you at the most inconvenient times. To make it worse, I will be going on vacation to California for a week, so even though I will keep writing, I don't think I'll be able to update again until the beginning of January. Just thought I should warn you. ;D
Alright, so I received a review from Lya Darkfury (thank you! ;P) asking me why Hermione smokes if she is trying to become a singer. I know it doesn't make too much sense, but I'll try to explain my reasoning. Hermione went through a lot during and after the war. It has changed her in a few ways, and left her with some new issues. She was always one to throw herself into a challenge headfirst, rashly and proudly, like a true Gryffindor. However, she is now a little more cynical and therefore more reluctant to give something her all. She's afraid of being hurt, of trusting in something 100 percent, and mostly of hoping for something, only to have it taken away. So really, the fact that she didn't quit smoking as soon as she decided to accept the job isn't due to her stubbornness as much as a subconscious need to not let go. She is retaining that one last bit of "not taking it seriously enough to quit smoking" just in case her dreams do get crushed. Anyhow, hopefully that gives you more of an idea as to who I see Hermione being.
.:*Atlantis*:.
Previous Chapter
"It's one forty-two in the morning," she informed her as she pointed a weaving finger towards the clock on the mantle, "don't you think it would be rude to wake him up?" She looked pointedly at her.
"No, I don't, and we won't wake him up. We're only going to go check if he's in his office, but I'm sure he'll be there. You know, I could swear that man is a vampire. He never seems to find the need to sleep, though he doesn't shrivel up and die in sun, so I guess not." They both broke into side-splitting laughter, neither of them realizing that it was really not all that funny. Hermione recovered first and took the opportunity to grab onto Ginny's hand tightly and shove her into the fireplace. She stumbled in behind her quickly, threw the green powder around them and said, "114 Vertik Alley."
.:*******:.
Chapter 7
Drunken Dilemmas
October 2nd, 2001
Tuesday
1:48 A.M.
The two witches stumbled out of the fireplace, clutching at each other in order to keep from collapsing to the ground. Hermione's head was spinning from the journey, and she took a deep steadying breath to subdue her sudden nausea. When her eyes were once again able to focus, she quickly grasped Ginny's hand and drug her to the nearest elevator, once again shoving the other girl in before her. She jabbed at the black button that had a silver number 23 upon its face. As the doors closed together softly, Ginny's brain seemed to finally catch up to her.
"What the FUCK, Hermione?" The redhead growled, as she glared malevolently at her friend.
"Hmmm?" Hermione looked at her, her eyes full of innocence. "Sorry, didn't quite catch that."
"I said, WHAT THE FUCK? I told you I didn't want anything, much less help, from that flea-infested ferret, and next thing I know you've forced me to come to his office!" Ginny clutched her head in her hands and let out a sound of frustration. "Ugh! I can't believe you!" She turned to the back of the elevator, her arms wound tightly across her chest. Sighing deeply, Hermione grasped the girl's shoulders and gently turned her back around.
"I'm sorry; it was very rude of me to just shove you into the floo." She told her in an exaggerated tone, and added an eye-roll for good measure. Ginny's bottom lip was still protruding slightly but Hermione thought she could see struggling against a smile. "Can't you just try to go with the flow? See where it is life leads you? You can't possibly find yourself until you learn to let yourself go." She did not have the slightest idea where this statement had come from (though she suspected it might have something to do with the firewhiskey), but it seemed to speak to her heart. Just at that moment, the elevator came to a stop, and the doors glided apart. She stepped out into the hallway and turned to look at Ginny expectantly. "Are you coming?"
Ginny seemed go through an internal struggle for several long seconds. "Fine!" she huffed as she stomped out of the elevator after Hermione, "I don't know how you always end up getting your way; I really don't. I can't believe I'm letting you drag me into this."
"Must be because you love me," Hermione giggled.
"It's really more of a love/hate thing at the moment," Ginny informed her with a glare.
Hermione laughed heartily as she linked their arms together and began to lead her towards Draco's office. They weaved their way down the hallway, and after a few seconds, Ginny's anger seemed to dissolve as she too began laughing. By the time they had reached the end of the hallway, they were both in hysterics, and Hermione couldn't stop laughing long enough to open the black maple door. The door was unexpectedly yanked open to reveal a shouting Draco, wand in hand and looking very aggravated. His hair was tousled, he was barefoot and his clothes were rumpled. His black button-down was half un-tucked out of his jeans, with his shirt sleeves were sloppily rolled half-way up his forearms, which allowed Hermione to see that he had covered up his Dark Mark by getting the Malfoy family crest tattooed over it. The sight caused some sobriety to seep back into her brain, and she stopped herself from taking an involuntary a step back. She had just tried to convince Ginny to trust him, and backing away from Draco wouldn't help her argument much.
"I told you I don't want your lousy fucking company, you asinine, money-hungry - " he stopped abruptly once his eyes focused on who exactly was standing there. Shock registered on his face, as he took in their appearance. Hermione blushed as she remembered that she was still in her black pajama shorts and tank top, her feet clad in furry black slippers, with her hair piled into a messy bun at the top of her head and held together by her wand. At least Ginny seemed more presentable in jeans and a white blouse, with a pair of sneakers; though it was still painfully obvious that she had been crying. A brief second later the shock vanished from his features, to be replaced with a perfectly neutral expression.
"Granger, Weasley," he said courteously, nodding to each of them in turn, "I wasn't expecting you. Please, come in." He stepped back and opened the door, motioning for them to enter. Hermione was about to remark on his opening statement, but decided against it. The subject obviously upset him, and she needed him to be in a giving mood at the moment. Therefore, she stepped through the door and followed him towards a few leather armchairs that were sitting around an elegant ebony fireplace, with a small matching ebony coffee table. There was an enormous desk in the corner made of the same beautiful black maple as the office door, but it was obvious that this is where he entertained his clients. When they were all seated, he looked at them and asked politely, "What business brings you ladies to my office at such an hour?"
"Well," Hermione croaked. She cleared her throat and began again, "Well, Malfoy, I was actually here to ask you for a favor." She tried to make her voice sound confident and sure, but now that she was here, ready to ask him for something, looking into his blue-gray eyes was slightly unnerving her. He seemed to sense her uneasiness, and stood abruptly.
"Would you care for a drink?" He asked as he reached the cut-crystal bottle that stood upon a corner of his desk. He didn't wait for an answer and simply proceeded to pour three glasses of an amber liquid, handing one to each of them before sitting back down. Hermione gave him a small smile that came out looking more like a grimace, then quickly took a few swallows. Squaring her shoulders, she looked back up into his eyes.
"Ginny is going to be staying with me indefinitely, and I was wondering if you could secure her a decent job. Perhaps at the club, or the hotel?" His expression didn't change, but his glance slid over to Ginny. When she felt him scrutinizing her, she quickly finished her already half-empty drink and set the empty glass on the coffee table. She looked at him with bloodshot eyes, silently daring him to ask why she needed to stay with Hermione. Instead, he raised his wand and summoned the bottle over to them. He refilled her glass and handed it back to her, still not saying a word. Ginny did not look at all appeased, but she took the glass and knocked it back.
"You might as well ask me now, Malfoy. I'm sure you're going to ask Hermione about it later, so just go ahead." She slurred at him, her voice full of bitterness. Draco silently contemplated her for a moment before speaking.
"Potter?" he asked. She gave him one curt nod in acknowledgment. "Then that's all I need to know. I might dislike him and be thrilled that, if my suspicions are correct, you're no longer with the idiot, however... I know that he would never stoop so low as to physically harm you. I don't really need to know anymore."
Ginny simply stared at Draco, completely at a loss of words (although it might have been because her brain was marinating in alcohol at the moment). Finally, she managed a slurred, "Thank you."
"It's none of my business, that's all." Draco told Ginny, who nodded at him in apparent agreement and then leaned back into the armchair, closing her eyes. "How did you two get here, anyway?" Draco turned his attention over to Hermione, smoothly changing the subject.
"We Flooed," she answered casually and shrugged her shoulders.
"I can never Floo after I've been drinking. Didn't it make you vomit?" He looked at her with one eyebrow raised, a smirk slowly making it's appearance. "All of a sudden I find myself grateful that you Flooed into the lobby, and not directly into my office."
Hermione leaned forward and tried to look him in the eye, which was a bit difficult since at that moment there seemed to be two sets of blue-gray eyes sitting across from her. "Of course I did not vomit in your lobby, Malfoy," she told him viciously, only to break into a smile seconds later. "Although it was close, to be honest," she stage-whispered, then giggled as she threw herself back into the armchair. She looked over to Ginny, and it was evident that she had fallen asleep. Hermione had just opened her mouth to tell Draco that she would now be taking Ginny home, but he beat her to it.
"That settles it, then. You and the Weaslette can stay here for tonight. I've got a bedroom of sorts here, for when I can't be bothered to go home. I'll owl Angie and Abril to let them know you'll be missing rehearsal tomorrow. I'll send one to Mikol as well, so he won't murder us both."
She was still trying to process what he had just said when he stood and drew his wand, pointing it at her friend. Reacting as fast as she could (which was not very fast, under the circumstances), she drew her own wand from her hair and pointed directly into Draco's face. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"What the hell do you think you're doing Granger?" he asked, exasperated. "First of all, why in the name of Merlin would I want to harm her? And with a witness no less! I really didn't think a bit of alcohol would diminish your IQ by so much."
"Excuse me?" She bristled at the insult. "I do not become mentally incapacitated when I am drunk."
"Really? Because I thought I just explained that you and Weasley will be staying here tonight. You will splinch yourself if you try Apparating half way around the world, especially when you're drunk. If you floo, not only will you vomit this time, but you'll probably lose you're balance and fall out of a different fireplace. Not to mention you would be trying to support an unconscious girl at the same time. No matter how you look at it, this really is your only option. Now, if you would lower your wand, I will proceed to levitate her into bed." He stood there, looking at her expectantly. As the reality of his words sunk in, she blushed furiously and lowered her wand.
Draco gave his wand a swish and a flick, wordlessly levitating Ginny from the leather armchair. With Ginny floating alongside him and Hermione trailing behind, he walked behind his desk and tapped his wand on the section of bookcase directly behind his chair. It swung open to reveal a room that seemed to be part bedroom, part walk-in closet, and part filing cabinet. He walked in and gently placed Ginny unto the mattress. Walking back out he stopped at his desk and pulled out a length of parchment and a black-feathered quill from the top drawer. He ripped the parchment in half and then quickly wrote out two short letters. After sealing them, he turned around, opened his office window and let out a low whistle. Not even a minute later, a small Saw Whet owl swooped in and landed on top of the desk with a little hop. He couldn't be more than seven inches length, had white and brown colored feathers, and a pair of glowing
"Einstein, deliver these to Abril Cevallos and then to Mikol Aalif. He'll probably want to send a reply." Draco told the owl as he tied both scrolls to his outstretched leg.
"Einstein?" Hermione scoffed. "Really? Why?"
"Well, lets see… He was a great man, and a brilliant wizard who forged new paths in Arthimancy and Science, forever changing the way we looked at light, time, space, energy and gravity. It might have something to do with that." He replied as he closed the window behind the departing owl.
"Hmmm," she hummed thoughtfully, "I never knew you to be so profound…"
"I'm not really." He smiled as he turned back towards her, "I just think he looks a bit like the man. The white feathers on his head grow in every direction, and his big yellow eyes always look surprised and slightly mad." He shook his head in amusement as she erupted into giggles. "You know this changes things, right?" he asked her, unexpectedly serious.
"Huh?" She blinked at him a few times. She didn't understand how his owl's name could possibly change anything, and said so.
"No, no. I meant having Weasley stay with you. The papers will get wind of this and they'll twist it around. They'll say you've both run away from home, behaving like immature adolescents who cannot cope with losing their boyfriends. I seriously doubt that they'll portray you in too bad of a light since we have Blaise on our side, but it'll only cause the public to pity you. That's not what you need right now, as pity doesn't sell tickets. You need to be perceived as a strong-willed, self-sufficient, keen-minded, independent woman." He plopped down into his office chair, opened the top drawer once again, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
"But that's exactly what I am!" She told him in exasperation as she hopped up on his desk and snatched away the cigarette he had just placed between his lips and lit. "And he was not my boyfriend! At least, he hadn't been for the past year!" She added as an after-thought.
"Well, yes." He said, looking a bit peeved as he replaced his cigarette with a fresh one. "However, in spite of what you and I know to be a fact, the world is still going to create an image of you based solely on a photograph, a leaked confidential medical record, or a ten -year-old diary that was somehow still floating about. The public has short-term memory loss. They forget that they loved you only a few years ago if the papers are saying that you now ought to be hated. It's ridiculous, but that is why I'm here, remember? I'll tell you what it is you should do to get them to see the image of you that you want."
"Well Mr. Manager, what do you suggest I should do about it?" She asked him warily. She could feel herself starting become a bit more sober and it was making her head hurt, which in turn made her irritable. Draco sighed heavily, as if already knowing she would not like the idea.
"I think you should go out on a few dates, let yourself be seen by some reporters. Although not all with the same guy. It's too soon after this big life-change for you to be in a steady relationship. It will only make the Rita Skeeters of the world speculate as to whether or not you've been seeing him behind the Weasel's back and this is all so that you could be with him openly."
"That's outrageous!" She exclaimed in a cloud of smoke, gesticulating wildly.
"Of course it is. On the other hand, everyone will simply assume that you've moved on with your life if you're seen out having fun every now and then."
"That doesn't sound like fun to me, that sounds like absolute torture." She informed him with a glare. "I am done with men. At least for the next few years, I am. Males seem to have a talent for enraging me with their ineptitude, and even if it's only a few meaningless dates, I can do without the added drama to my life."
"Let me see if I'm understanding you correctly." A devious smile was forming at his lips, though he attempted to hide it by dragging on his cigarette. "Are you saying that you wouldn't have fun with male company? That no matter who it was, you wouldn't enjoy it?"
"That is exactly what I'm saying," she told him with a smirk. "All men are the same; know one and you know them all."
He stood from the chair so rapidly that before she knew what was happening, he was directly in front of her, leaning towards her as he placed both his hands on the desk on either side of her. With only about five inches between them, he spoke again. "Are you sure about that?" His voice was rough and his blue-gray eyes bored down into her honey-colored ones. Her mouth opened as if to reply, but not a single sound came out. She knew what he was trying to do, so she didn't want to back away, but being that close to him was seriously impairing her ability to speak. Was is ironic that her heart seemed to speed up even as her thought process came to a screeching halt?
The sound of whimpering came from behind Draco, and that was what broke the spell and brought her back into reality. He straightened and turned his head to look through the open door towards the bed. Leaning to her left in order to look around his shoulder, she saw that Ginny was restlessly tossing about the mattress, although the whimpering had ceased. Seizing the opportunity, Hermione attempted to steer the conversation into less dangerous waters.
"Poor Ginny. I think she might have known it was over a long time ago, but it's hard to admit the fact that what you want isn't what everyone expects from you."
"Yeah... I know all about that," he said quietly, looking out of the window at a lightening sky contrasted against the jagged horizon made by skyscrapers. It seemed as though her change of subject had unintentionally poked at old wounds. "You should probably get in there in go to sleep yourself before you begin to sober. It's never pleasant when you're still conscious as a hangover kicks in. I should have a job lined up for her by the time you wake." He sat at the desk once more, but did not look back up at her.
"You're right, I suppose. Thank you for your help, Malfoy." She slipped off the desk and quickly walked into the bedroom/closet/storage, closing the door behind her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Recent events would have to be replayed, analyzed and dissected, but that could wait until after she slept. If she thought about it now then she wouldn't be able to go to sleep at all, not to mention the fact that she was feeling more and more exhausted by the second.
She somehow managed to drag her feet over to the bed, and slipped into the covers next to Ginny. Within a minute of her curls touching the pillow, she was asleep.
And that is how Hermione found herself in New York, sleeping in an office building within Vertik Alley, drunk, next to a distraught Ginny, and with Draco Malfoy of all people, watching over them.
.:*******:.
