I apologise for the extra long hiatus. I solemnly swear it was not intentional.

Without further ado, this is the latest chapter of Over Tea Leaves and Coffee. Hope you will enjoy it!


Chapter Seven

Hermione Granger was right. Prudence Bennet had a field day reading the cheesy poetry session pamphlet.

"Who the hell says hanky-panky these days?" Prue snorted, her frame shaking with laughter as she scanned the flyer. "And hanky?"

Hermione shrugged. "Beats me. An advertising trick. I sure can't imagine anyone ever saying that." She turned and cleared the empty cups on the table, before adding an afterthought. "Except Ron maybe."

Prue tossed the flyer aside, interest sparkling in her eyes. "Really?"

"He did say it once before," Hermione remarked absently. "When he tried to lecture Harry once before taking Ginny on their first date."

Her friend let out an appreciative laugh. "That is so pigheaded."

She nodded and tried to act in a casual manner. God, pretending and lying to her new friend was extremely difficult. "So what do you think?"

Queen of short attention span looked at her. "About what?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and took the pamphlet on the table and waved it.

"You are kidding me right?" Prue asked, who had a deadpanned look on her face. "To this?"

"I always wanted to see what it's like."

"Must we?" Prudence whined.

Hermione pulled her hands back to her hips.

"Fine," her friend sighed, snatching the brochure from Hermione. "I will go if it makes you happy. But only because I like poetry."

The corner of her lips lifted. "As long as you go," she said happily.

"I don't think I want to know what it means when it says 'no rhyming experience needed'' ," Prudence remarked.


She was reading a book on her bed that night when the phone rang. Hermione picked it up.

"Salutations to you," she said without thinking.

She was greeted by silence on the other side.

"Anyone there?" She said, finally putting down her book.

The air was suddenly flooded by masculine laughter that sounded smooth, like honey.

"God, you can't say hello like a normal person can you?" A male voice answered, chortling. It sounded familiar. And then it hit her.

"Draco Malfoy… You are using a telephone?" She asked, amazed.

"Hello to you too," he said dryly.

"I can't believe it," Hermione said, smiling. "I do believe the world is coming to an end."

"Why?" She heard a trace of humour in his voice.

"I'm actually on the telephone—the telephone!—with you. You!"

Draco snorted. "The telephone is hardly a twenty-first century contraption. Of course I know how to use it."

"I should have guessed. But the thought is funny. What's with the whole can't-greet-like-a-normal-person thing?"

"Granger. From the time we met until now, you have never used the word 'Hello' to greet me."

She tried to recall as quickly as she could.

"Let me refresh your memory. In Hogwarts you always avoided me or say something stupid like 'Malfoy, I'm slamming with a week of detention because I'm a prefect'. Then when we were re-acquainted you always greeted me with 'Draco'. Then we went pass the whole greeting stage and you demanded 'what was that all about' when I saved you from Barmy Harvey. The last time we met though we went back to the whole Draco stage again."

"I didn't slam a whole week of detention on you because I was a prefect," She protested, laughing. "I did it because I was Head Girl."

"So you are admitting that you never ever say hello to me?"

"Guilty," Hermione replied honestly. "I will be sure to say that next time."

"I will hold you to that," he promised. "What's with the weird greeting anyway?"

"What did I say?"

"You said 'Salutations to you'. Whoever says something like that?"

Hermione giggled slightly, twirling the phone cord with her pinkie finger. "I don't under normal circumstances. But Charlotte does."

"Who's Charlotte?" responded a curious voice.

"I was reading Charlotte's Web before you called," she explained. "The heroine in the book is a spider name Charlotte. When she greets anyone in the barn she lives in she always says 'Salutations'."

"Ah," Comprehension seemed to dawn in his voice. "Isn't that a children's book?"

"It is, but I enjoy reading them anyway."

"Don't tell anybody this then. I enjoy The Tales of Despereaux."

"You enjoy reading about talking mouse and rats and castles. God Malfoy, this is a perfectly good opportunity for extortion."

"To think I trusted you with my secret. I should never have called you."

"How did you get my number in the first place?"

"I'm an extremely resourceful person," Draco said triumphantly. "It doesn't take a lot of hard work to accomplish this feat when you know magic and have galleons."

"You paid someone?"

"Of course. The typical Malfoy way."

This time she couldn't hold back a laugh.

"Or," she laughed. "You could have checked the phone book for my number. Much easier and faster, I reckon."

"I embarrassed myself again didn't I?" Draco said good-humouredly. "I will remember that next time."

"I sure hope you didn't pay much for that."

"Depends on whose perspective."

"Why did you call me anyway?"

He chuckled, his smooth voice resonating through Hermione's phone. She admired the way it sound. The tone, the pitch. It appealed to her greatly.

"Can't I just call you up for a lovely chat?"

"Never answer a question with another question Draco. It doesn't work on me."

"How about this: I wanted you to be the victim of my phone call."

"Nope, can't be it," She said cheerfully. "You don't spend money looking for a person's number just so she can be your victim."

"Hard to fool are you?"

"Of course, I'm Hermione Granger."

"You are the Hermione Granger," he corrected. "And I'm calling to see if you asked Prudence to go for the poetry thing yet."

"What do you think?"

"You did? That was quick."

Hermione frowned slightly. "I never said I did."

"You didn't have to," The voice said smoothly. "Your tone said it all."

"I didn't sound anything but neutral!"

"Hermione," Draco said amusedly. "I can read you like a book. A children's book. I can tell."

"If you knew, why did you bother calling?" She asked exasperatedly.

"I didn't know until I heard your voice. Besides, I am Draco Malfoy. I don't leave things half done."

"Correction. You are the Draco Malfoy, and you are going to owe me one for this stunt."

"How was Prudence's reaction?"

"It went a lot better than expected," She informed him. "Of course, I can't say the same when she finds out about this entire twisted plot."

"Think of it as investment for the long run."

"If he is worth it."

"He is. And I fully intend to repay you with a lovely dinner afterwards, I promise."

He promised, she though. He promised!

"I plan to hold you to that," She said.

"I got a request though."

"What?"

"I would really like to see that red hat of yours again."

"I will think about it," she said coyly.

"I'm guessing from your tone that you are going to hang up on me." He laughed again.

"I am," she said as lightly as she could and hung up before he could say anything. She didn't trust herself to stop smiling.

And that was the end of Draco Malfoy's first ever phone call.


Hermione was the first to arrive that very fateful day. She stood across the street from the fateful bookstore where the poetry session will be held and peered at it. It seemed perfectly normal… On the outside at least. It gave her hope that the cheesy brochure was really some failed advertising trick on the store's part.

She waited for five minutes before she spotted Prudence Bennet strolling down the street. She wasn't exactly a hard person to miss with her deep red hair and lovely face. In fact, Hermione thought she looked very pretty in her light blue tea dress.

"Ready to head in?" Prudence cocked her head as she approached, looking at her slightly nervous friend. She made a motion to cross the road.

Hermione stopped her.

"I'm waiting for someone," she explained.

"Who?"

"Draco and his friend."

"He's coming?" Prudence had a sly smile on her face. "Why did you ask me to come then?"

She tried to ignore the redhead's insinuations.

"I said he and his friend."

"Okayyyy," She drawled out before throwing Hermione a teasing smile. "Let me pick up a bagel from the bakery though. I am hungry."

Hermione eyed her suspiciously.

"Don't bail on me," she warned as her friend flounce off and headed away from her.

"Don't worry!" Prudence called out before she disappeared round the corner. "I will be back… I think!"

She wondered how the redhead would react later, and sincerely hoped that her friend would not murder her on the spot.

She suddenly caught a flash of blond hair to her right.

And there Draco was a few feet away from her. Her breath hitched slightly. Was she imagining it, or did he look particularly handsome this evening? Somehow he managed to look extraordinary in that plain red shirt and dark pants he was wearing. And his eyes—they were sparkling!

Hermione realized that it was going to be a difficult task to get through this evening.

"Hello," she greeted him, unable to stop the smile on her face. Hello. A gentle reminder that she had not forgotten what he said over the phone, and that was a flash of recognition in his eyes.

He gave her a crooked grin, and it looked becoming on him. What didn't?

"Good evening," He returned the polite greeting. "I see you can finally greet me like a normal individual."

"Don't expect it too often. I don't give special treatments," she joked. He smiled back at her.

"I deserve every bit of that special treatment," he said meaningfully. "Or I just have to find a way to earn it."

"Keep working at it."

"You wore your red hat," he said approvingly.

She did. She wanted nothing more than to please him.

"I did," she said simply, and the both of them smiled at each other.

She heard a slight cough in front of her. A dark-haired man was glancing amusedly at them. It was then she suddenly realized that they were not alone. Oh. Oh.

She felt her cheeks warm, and was surprised to see the same reaction on Draco's face.

"Hermione," he said, still blushing. "This is Blaise Zabini. Blaise, the Gryffindor I have been talking about."

The Blaise she remembered in school was a boy who was cheeky and bold. From what she could recall he spent a lot of school nights in detention for one prank or another. Smart of course, but mischievous. And he got a kick out of it.

The man in front her was exactly that. He still had that black hair and slightly pale skin. And the slight dimple near his chin. High cheekbones. He was a little taller than Draco, and was certainly muscular. He was every bit as good-looking as he was years ago. Perhaps better.

But the smug smile on his face was there. She recognized it instantly—the same one he used when he stole Filch's cleaning supplies.

"Hermione," Blaise said in a deep voice, bowing suavely. "So we meet."

"We do." She folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow—his signature look. He recognized it, and chuckled, and then copied her pose. Or his pose, rather.

"So this is the little tyke my best friend has been running off to see," Blaise said conversationally, as if talking about an entirely innocent topic. She wasn't fooled—his mad twinkling eyes told her. He was Blaise Zabini, master of shenanigans, king of dodging. She didn't expect anything less.

"And this is the squirt who Draco tries to set Prudence up with?" She responded with a smile and a quick look at a nodding Draco. "My, my."

"This is the man who is pursuing Prudence Bennet," Blaise corrected, laughing. "The lovesick swoon, the mad man. Take your pick."

"I pick all."

"Fiesty."

"I thought that's how you like them," she countered.

"True," Blaise acknowledged. He winked at Hermione. "And apparently Malfoy and I are not so different after all."

Draco shot a dirty look at the dark-haired man. He shrugged.

Hermione's heart skipped another beat. She never did tell Draco about Narcissa's visit to her store. He had absolutely no clue.

She tried to find another distracting topic.

"So you like Prue ?"

"Of course." Blaise grinned, not bothering to deny it. His pose was natural and not one bit uncomfortable. "What's not to like?"

Draco smirked, glad he could finally be included into this conversation. "Ever since he saw her months ago at his aunt's party."

Hermione turned to Blaise who flashed another toothy grin. He was extremely charming, she had to admit. She had always liked him. He was unaffected and artless, like Draco.

"Oh?"

"She was on the center of the mini stage of the party when I first saw her," Blaise said conversationally, his hands shoved his pockets. "There was some sort of live band. My aunt like that kind of stuff for some weird reason. They had been playing that dreadful classical Warlock music all night. You know, the ones that made Binn's class interesting."

"How does it sound like?"

"A mix between the ghouls in the dungeons and a flushing toilet."

Hermione giggled.

"It was terribly boring. The entertainment was pretty much non-existent," The black-haired man continued, his eyes sparkling. "And then suddenly, this really pretty redhead just climbed on the stage, and asked really loudly whether they knew any Backstreet Boys song."

"That sound like Prue," Hermione laughed controllably. The blond man beamed as well.

"Needless to say, I lost my heart to Prudence Bennet that very moment, when she shocked all the middle-age foggies with her request for some muggle pop. I couldn't resist- I went to introduce myself to her."

Draco chuckled. Blaise glared at him.

"What happened?" Hermione asked curiously.

Blaise sighed. "She threw her wine at me."

"Why?"

"Apparently she found out I hired the band," He shrugged. "It seemed funny at that time."

She rolled her eyes. What else did she expect?

"And then—"

"There's more?" She asked incredulously.

Draco tried hard not to grin. "This is the part where it gets worse," he assured her.

"How can it get worse?"

"She heard me made a lewd remark about her," Blaise said mildly.

"He said to one of the other guest 'I would bang her like there's no tomorrow right there'."

Prudence Bennet would never take that as a compliment. She understood.

"She demanded that I apologised. And that I told her not to live her name and be a prude."

"She didn't like the pun."

"Obviously," Blaise said, but added an afterthought. "Then again, I like girls feisty."

Draco glanced at his friend, amused. "You will never win her like that."

"I will do my best. I won't give up."

"Even if it takes ten years?" Hermione asked. Blaise looked directly at her and met her gaze.

"Even if it takes a hundred," he said seriously, but smiled. "What can I say? I am completely besotted with her."

Draco threw a small punch at his friend. "That was when I knew he was the one for our saucy friend."

"If it comes to the worse, I will wheedle and whine until she gives in and goes out on a date with me," he said goodhumouredly.

She shook her head. "I don't know why I'm saying this, but I really hope that Prue does go out with you.

"Glad to have your blessings madam," he saluted, giving a deep bow. "It means a lot to me. Although no matter what, Prudence Bennet is destined to become the future Mrs Zabini."


Hermione spotted her friend strolling out of the bakery and walking towards her. A look of incredulity was evident in her porcelain face.

"What," she demanded, looking at Blaise, "Is he doing here?"

Hermione wasn't so sure whether she was talking to him or Draco. But she decided to answer anyway.

"I did say Draco was bringing a friend," she reminded her friend.

"Hello," Blaise smiled at her. It was at this time that Hermione noticed that a change in Blaise. A minute ago he was collected and relaxed, leaning against the lamppost in a composed manner. Now he lookedsomehow different. Blaise looked bright and excited He was actually beaming and looking all jubilant.

Plainly he was very much attracted to her.

Prudence ignored him.

"You didn't say it was him!" She hissed, folding her arms across her chest. A small part of Hermione's brain took in that insignificant detail and registered it was similar to Blaise's. She smiled.

"You didn't ask."

"You knew I wouldn't come if he was here!"

She had a wicked look on her face. "That's why I didn't tell."

Draco ruffled the redhead's hair. "Red, we are doing this for your own good. Besides, your grudge is extremely unbecoming on you."

"I will leave."

Hermione put on her best pitiful expression. "Please?"

"Why should I?"

Hermione grabbed Draco's hand in an inspiration. "Would you please stay for a moment? I really don't want to go home soon…"

Her voice trailed meaningfully at Draco and her clasped hand. Prudence's gaze followed and softened.

"Well…" she hesitated, biting her lip.

Blaise suddenly stood in front of Prudence. His eyes were fixed on her.

"Prudence," he addressed her earnestly. "I know we had some sort misunderstanding from before, but I hope you will find it in you to forgive me. I'm sorry for whatever distress I have caused you."

She eyed him. "You are laying the charm thick aren't you?"

He grinned. "Am I caught?"

A small smile tug of her cherry lips. "It's working. Please to meet you, I'm Prudence Bennet." She stretched out her hand.

Blaise took it and gave it a kiss. "Blaise Zabini, your future husband."

Prudence laughed for some reason. "You wish,"

He winked. "I do."

The redhead smirked. "Let's just stop the flirtation and go. With any success we will make it there… And witness some 'hanky-panky'."

Blaise snorted at the cheesy quote and offered his arm to Prudence. Hermione and Draco trailed after them (who were now talking-slash-bantering in a very animated manner) with an excited smile on their face.

All the time though, Hermione was wondering whether Prudence felt tingles in her arm when she held Blaise's hand as she did when she touched Draco's.


The store was eclectic-looking. The furniture was highly mismatched, and there were random colourful rugs thrown all over the cheap wooden floor. And of course there were rows and rows of books, many looking as if they had been there for years. Somewhere at the back of the store lay a sleek shiny laptop.

About fifteen people inside, seating in foldable plastic chairs all around a little wooden box that acted as a raised platform. The people were surprisingly normal looking. There didn't seem at all like the type who would respond to such cheesy flyers. Not all, anyway.

The four of them took some seats at the back. Beside her Draco was examining the painting at the wall with interest. Prudence and Blaise were sitting beside each other, chattering away. Apparently all animosity on Prue's part mysteriously disappeared. Hermione heard the words "drunk" and "Quidditch" and decided she didn't want to know.

Draco took another look at the painting on the wall and caught Hermione's eye. He gave her an apologetic look.

"Job hazard," he explained with a huge chuckle.

"Anything good?" She asked, eyeing the piece of art. It was one of those impressionism paintings, with a little girl sitting in the middle of the field. Pretty, she supposed.

He shook his head. "It's just a Paul Cezanne print. Not an original."

"I can't really tell," she admitted. "I like it base on whether it looks nice or not."

Blaise heard the end part of their conversation

"Nothing wrong with that," he chimed. "After all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And I certainly wouldn't like one of those ugly terrifying piece of modern art in my sitting room."

Prue raised an eyebrow. "So you rather have those cheap fifteen dollar print than a Damien Hirst original?"

"I never had the eye to appreciate art," he shrugged. "And I don't pretend to. So I guess the answer is yes."

Prue looked at Blaise admiringly. "And here I was, thinking that you are some pretentious rich boy who believes in snob value."

"Don't blow my cover as an Ikea painting fan." Blaise winked.

Draco whispered in Hermione's ear. "Funny how they manage to turn this into their own conversation."

She snorted. "I don't even think they realized that they have barge into our personal speech bubble and taken over our discussion."

"Despite the rocky start, I believe that everything is going well."

"I hope so," she agreed.

"They look good together, don't they?"

Hermione glanced past him at her friends again. There were still engaged in some highly wild conversation that nobody but the two of them apparently understood.

"They do," she smiled. There was no denying it once you got about the strangeness of the couple. Hermione never thought the sensible Prudence would go after someone so un-serious as Blaise Zabini. It was like mixing strawberry ice cream with peanut butter. But somehow it worked.

She shouldn't have found it strange though. They were both rebels at heart and extremely mischievous creatures. And they did make an exceptionally good-looking couple. An unconventional couple.

"Blaise looks ecstatic," she commented.

He did. Even she could tell. The man had a boyish smile on his face.

"So you approve?" Draco questioned.

"Of course," She smiled. "I think is quite obvious that he is, and I quote, 'besotted with her'."

"So it doesn't matter than Prue isn't nearly as charmed as he is?"

Hermione gave him a look. "Are you blind?" She jerked her head in the direction of their friends. Prudence was shamelessly flirting with Blaise, who was only happy to return the gesture.

A tiny man stood up on the tiny platform and interrupted their conversation. The poetry session had started. Someone raised his hand, with a piece of notebook size paper in his hand.

"Hmm. But I see your point," Hermione said quietly to Draco as the stranger went up on the makeshift stage and recited a ripped-off e.e cummings poem. "Blaise is obviously the more willing participant in the relationship."

"Doesn't that disturb you?"

"He said! And I said!— " boomed from the stage.

Hermione thought about it. "Not really. It is really the beginning of their relationship – if you can call it that—so far. It doesn't really matter. What matters is that one of them is in really deep."

"And they said!—"

"Perhaps Blaise is just flirting with her." Draco suggested mildly. Hermione looked at him strangely.

"He isn't."

"And you know this?"

"From the way he looks at her. And he isn't afraid to admit he likes her. Most of all, he isn't embarrassed to be the one who loves more."

"But then there!"

"Maybe some are afraid of rejection." He murmured.

"Maybe. But how is she supposed to know how he feels?"

"She can guess?"

She shook her head.

"Not all people are good guessers."

"The divine said—"

"And this is your opinion?" Draco whispered.

"What?"

"That someone must show their affections by proclaiming their love?" Draco was staring intensely at her now. It made her slightly uncomfortable.

"It's not that. He just has to… be unafraid to show the world how he feels. To wear his heart on his sleeves." She paused. "To take risks even if it hurts in the end. Like Blaise. He doesn't care about that. He knows what he wants, and isn't afraid to get it."

"To be unembarrassed by it?"

The conversation was turning stranger every minute.

"Well," she responded confusedly. "If you really love someone… isn't he or she worth fighting for?"

"Mary did not exclaim but said!"

"A man shouldn't be afraid to show how he feels?"

"If he really loves me."

Draco was no longer listening. He just looked at Hermione.

"Yes," he finally said. "You are right."

The man on the small stage finished his poem. The room burst into polite applause.

"I don't think I ever heard so many exclamation marks and 'said' in a poem," Prudence muttered. Blaise was laughing.

A man who appeared to be the store owner stood up. He was fifty and wore checked tie and pants. "Well done!" He boomed. "Any other brave souls?"

To her surprise, Draco stood up confidently and walked to the platform.

"I do," he winked at her. "I wrote this on my own."

"Brave chap!" The owner complimented.

"I'm afraid it isn't very well written, so I apologise in advance," he said. He didn't pull out any piece of paper. "But I meant it with all my heart."

"Excuse me for the lack of better adjective

Words tend to fail me at this

As I pen my thoughts, my feelings

Into a diary.

A pale attempt to capture the precise imagery

When the rest of the world fades

And only the vision of you remain

But the pen stopped as I realized it was useless

Because.

It does not compare to you.

Or the vividness of that lovely day

It's a perfect memory

That will remain and stay, and stay

Of that day

When I sent compliments to your hat

I can only call it—

Red."

His poem. He had said it and Hermione heard every word of it. The audience was clapping wildly and she couldn't hear them at all. Only the echo of his words.

It did not escape her notice, or anyone else's, that she was wearing a red hat.

It does not compare to you.

Draco was in front of her.

"Shall we go?" he smiled. He held out his hand.

In a daze she nodded, and Hermione Granger allowed him to pull her out of the bookstore, away from the happy crowd and stunned friends.


So what did you think? I hope this shows you the significant progress of Draco and Hermione's relationship… Or at least I tried to make it that way. I wrote Draco's poem too. Hoped you liked it. I wished FF would allow nice paragraphing, because the poem makes less sense without it...

Oh, and I have a new Twilight story called Lovers, Again. Check it out and review! I think I will be updating that next week. It's a promise!

Another news. I have recently opened a Facebook account. I know, how lag am I to be now when the rest of the world started years ago. I didn't even do it until my friends forced me to. Perhaps I'm a techno-resistant.

Anyway I would love to make more friends so if you want to FB me, do leave your email or something in your review or PM and I will try and add you! I would love having some ff friends around, so yeah.

And as usual, Read and Review!