A/N : hope you all had smashing holidays. So sad it's over but well... there is always fanfiction XD
Happy New Year, by the way... (late, I know)
Traitors
Hermione stumbles out of the Potters' fireplace, almost tripping on her high heels. She winces as she regains her balance and twists her ankle. But she doesn't cry out, and she doesn't plan on complaining. Nope. There, she even puts a smile on her face to go with the make-up, pretty golden hairclips and the reasonably expensive dress (Hermione likes to point out that even when she's on a shopping spree, she is nothing if not reasonable).
Because, tonight, she's having diner with her old friends, namely the Potters and the Weasleys, and she won't be the old ugly bitter spinster. It doesn't matter that she's just spent the day trying to avoid Malfoy, running out of their office under false pretenses for no other reason than to evade his presence.
It was nothing anyway, just her being stupid : there is no way he was staring like she felt he was. She is being paranoid again, she knows - you can't hope to go through a war without some nasty... after-effects.
Why would he be staring at her?
So, no, tonight she has to act as if she still loves her job. She won't even talk about Malfoy. Somehow, she's aware that her job is all she has : if she doesn't have it, then she's "Poor Hermione".
She hates "Poor Hermione".
So, there she is, precariously balanced on much too high heels when she hates high heels almost as much as pity, constricted in a dress which is too fancy for the occasion, and hell, she's sodding freezing with that ridiculous plunging neckline! As if that wasn't enough, she spent hours brushing, combing, and twisting her hair to make it look half-decent.
No need to say that she's late, and she swears that if one strand dares to pull out of the sleek bun, she will burst into tears. She's not kidding : just the thought makes her bottom lip quiver.
She dusts her dress, hoping she doesn't have soot all over her face. Darn, she knew, she should have brought a pocket mirror - it would be just her luck to ruin it all with soot after putting so much energy into being vain. The living room is empty, and she suddenly realises that she can hear the sound of voices and cutlery coming from the dining room.
That late, uh?
She winces. Well, at least it explains why nobody heard her come in. Either that or she made them wait for so long they decided not to greet her as some kind of punishment.
She chuckles nervously to herself and is surprised to discover that she feels quite self-conscious about the way she looks. It's completely preposterous, she firmly tells herself. She's known them for almost twelve years. Well, not Rose-Hannah, but who cares about Rose-Hannah ? Either way, the woman's six months pregnant : she could hardly criticize her sense of fashion. When she's feeling down, Hermione loves to look at maternity dresses - the ones with the big purple flowers on it. It never fails to bring back a smile on her face, even if it's a wicked one.
And no, it has nothing to do with being jealous.
"Ginny?" she calls, quietly.
There is no answer. She bits her lip and creeps towards the dining room, feeling a little awkward to be late and all dressed-up.
Ah, damn it all! She spent an embarrassing amount of time in front of her mirror - so what? She can lie, it's not like they will know better!
She makes her entrance, looking straight at Harry - who chokes on a mouthfull of chicken at her unexpected appearance.
"Hi, sorry I'm late, she exclaims brightly. You know me : got caught up in work - the usual. I just can't seem to leave the office, these days."
She throws a laugh for good mesure. Perfect, nobody will suspect a thing.
Ah! Like she goes to work with 300£ shoes and gold earrings.
"Funny, that. I seem to remember you going home early, today."
She freezes. No, it can't be - they wouldn't have! Nobody is that cruel!
But there he is, all smart looking with a casual white shirt and perfect sleek hair he probably achieved in about thirty seconds.
Traitors, all of them.
"Malfoy."
"Granger."
She stiffly nods at him and greets Ginny, Rose-Hannah and Ron.
Oh.
Harry and Ginny, Ron and Rose-Hannah. Herself and Malfoy? No, Ginny wouldn't have dared. Would she?
No, she chastises herself - she's being silly again. Of course, Harry and Ginny wouldn't do that to her. And with Malfoy of all people!
They may be traitors and really awful people to have invited him with her, but they wouldn't have thought about it like some kind of triple date. Not even them were that blind - it's not like they don't know Malfoy would never go out with a poor boring muggleborn like her.
Not that she would go for someone like him, mind you.
And she's completely one-hundred-per-cent sure it's purely coincidental if the only seat available is beside his. So she sits down keeping her mouth shut. After all, she isn't about to make a scene in front of her friends. She'll be damned if she let Poor Hermione make an appearance tonight!
She fills her plate with chicken, peas, and mash patatoes, keeping herself from immediately stuffing her face like a pig. It's late, and she's so hungry, she feels like she could eat a small elephant, but it really wouldn't go with her attire.
And maybe she's being paranoid again, but it really feels like Malfoy is watching her while smirking. Again.
"Oh, Hermione, I love your dress!" Rose-Hannah gushes.
"Yes, Granger... Very nice dress, adds Malfoy. Going somewhere after dinner?"
She almost spits out her peas and has to struggle to keep her eyes on her plate. He may be a jerk, but she won't give him the satisfaction to know that he hit the bull's eye : she is overdressed, and she feels like it too. But she loves this dress, and she never has the occasion to wear it - because she's alone and not rich like him. Hell, he can go anywhere he wants and people actually invite him.
Her friends invited him!
She looks sideways at Malfoy who is exchanging pleasantries with Harry as if they've been all-time best buddies. She returns to her plate, taking bite after bite and chewing mechanically without really tasting anything. Which is a shame, because it looks good.
She never thought she would come to this, but she misses seing Harry and Malfoy throwing hexes and belittling comments at each other. Of course, Malfoy still does the belittling part, but now, they actually find it funny.
She shudders. It's all like a horrible nightmare and she wishes she could wake up.
Anytime, now.
She sights and rubs her temples before emptying her glass of wine in one go. Harry raises an eyebrow at her but doesn't comment.
Dinner drags itself, minute after minute. Hermione talks little and none at all when it's Malfoy speaking to her. She feels uncomfortable in the too pretty dress she's trying hard not to stain, and Malfoy is a lot too close to her - she somehow has the impression that his Cologne is swallowing the oxygen or something.
For the first time, she doesn't feel like she belongs here - it's like Malfoy has replaced her without anybody noticing.
All of a sudden, she's not hungry anymore.
"Why so silent?"
She doesn't answer, pretending she can't hear him. He tried talking to her all evening, probably to rub in her face how much of a loser she is - not even able to have a conversation with her own friends! -, but she knows he'll get tired of it if she goes on ignoring him.
Eventually.
"Granger?"
He nudges her as if she was auditively impaired. Merlin, how thick could he be?
She maims her chicken with a vengeance.
See no evil, hear no evil, speak...
"For Merlin's sake, Granger! Aren't you going to answer me?"
He suddenly sounds annoyed. She almost grins, but settles for a tiny quirk of the mouth and turns his way, keeping her face carefully blank.
"Why? So you can make a fool out of me", she says, her voice lowered - she doesn't fancy this particular conversation being overheard. "Thanks, I think I'll pass."
But it's too late : Malfoy outburst has definitively gained them some attention. When she shifts her gaze from his face, she finds four pairs of eyes focused on her, watching her as if she was the weird one. Well, it's not her who insists to talk to Malfoy like she doesn't know they aren't friends.
Sure, she's not as wary of him as she once was, she can admit that, albeit grudgingly. After all, his coffee is good, and not exactly poisonous (so yes, maybe she went a little overboard with the whole poison-thing, but hey, you can never be cautious enough, especially with Draco Malfoy). But it doesn't mean they have to organize sleepovers at each other flat or to... talk. Do they?
They are still watching her, and Ginny has this expression on her face... like she knows something Hermione doesn't.
God, Hermione hates not to know what's going on.
She forcefully pulls up the corners of her mouth, hoping it can be mistaken for a smile and turns back towards Malfoy.
"OK, fine. What do you want to talk about?"
He perks up and gives her that Cheshire Cat's smile which makes her want to run for her life and to strangle him all at once.
She refills her glass of wine, already eyeing the bottle of beer Ron is steadily emptying.
She has a feeling she's going to need all the alcohol she can get to make it through the evening.
A/N : How Hermione will survive an entire diner with Malfoy (and how pissed will she be at the end of it)? You'll know that... next chapter. Which will hopefully be up before too long. Leaving reviews will significantly speed the process. And now, I'll stop blabbing nonsense : I hear the sweet (?) voice of The Doctor coming from the living room. XD