Chapter 9
Hermione was back at her least favorite place, her own office. When she had first gotten the job, she spent a long time and some effort to make the space reflect her personality. Having a workplace was one of her dreams. Since then, it had lost its novelty. It was just the same old, drab, and boring office. Whenever her birthday, or some other special event, came along, she received some kitschy object for her office, or apartment. Most of them had no use at all. What could she possibly do with a paper weight? There were no windows in her office, so there'd be no chance of her papers being flown around the room. What was she supposed to do with a snow globe, a figurine of a flamingo, a picture frame too small that no picture could ever possibly fit into it? The only functional thing she'd ever gotten was a vase from Harry. It was a nice gift, even though she never really used it. Crookshanks liked eating the flowers, and when he got sick he let everyone know it.
"Is my life really this dull, that all I can do all day is complaining about paper weights and sickly felines?" She thoughtto herself.As she looked around the room at year's worth of worthless knick knacks, Harry's head popped through the door.
"Hey, Hermione!" He said pleasantly.
"Oh, hi Harry. What's going on?" She said, trying to smile.
"Well, er, Ginny had this dumb, I mean, brilliant idea, that we'd all go on a triple date tonight. Me and her, of course, Ron and Charlotte, and you and some lucky bloke, would go."
"Who am I supposed to go with? I don't think I know any blokes." She smiled genuinely.
"Well, I don't know. I'm sure Ginny's got something up her sleeve. What do you say, will you join us? I don't think I could stand Ron and Charlotte's goo-goo eyes without you to stop them." He pleaded.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Alright, Just make sure my date isn't Reggie from the maintenance department. I'm pretty sure he has fleas."
"Yeah, he is itchy all the time. I'll tell Ginny to cross him off her list. Oh yeah, she told me to tell you to wear blue. Then your outfits won't clash. See you then."
oOo
Business was booming at the Paramount Pub. The whole restaurant was packed: Three birthdays, two anniversaries, one retirement, and four graduation parties in one room, and Draco Malfoy had to serve them all. Draco really hated his job sometimes. Most people ate like slobs, making cleaning up after them, without getting diseased, virtually impossible. The pub usually wasn't very busy, which is why they only need two servers, one upstairs and one on the ground floor. But on Friday nights, it's a waiter's nightmare. They really could use extra help, but seeing as the owner was very cheap, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.
Draco was thrilled when he had first gotten the job. Even though he was rich in the wizarding world, in the muggle world he was dirt poor. You can't just walk into the nearest currency exchange and trade in all of your galleons for pounds. He had to earn some kind of cash so that Patrick could go to school and their house could have air conditioning. Magic can only get you so far. Muggles aren't used to your lawn magically being cut. Draco needed money to buy a lawn mower, a dishwasher, and most importantly a television to keep Patrick out of his hair once in a while. Getting a job was the only way. The owner of the Paramount Pub was really old fashioned, so naturally he didn't care that Draco didn't have any form of higher education, or any education at all for that matter. All he cared about was Draco's ability to wait tables, clean tables, and for him to agree to take less than minimum wage of course. The fact of the matter was that this was the only place on the planet where Draco could find work, so it was the perfect job for him.
He had learned all the tricks of the trade from the other server, a very old and very snarky lady named Agnes. She taught him everything: "Write orders in big and distinct letters or Maurice, the chef, would have to waste time trying to find his glasses. Be polite to the customers, make it seem like it's your life's dream to be working here. Be light on your feet and have perfect balance. And most importantly, if a customers being an ass wipe," He remembered her saying, wagging a bony finger at him, "be sweet as pie and oblivious to their banter. You got that?" She said the first day he came to work. Since then they became a team. He would remind her to take her 2:00 pill, and in return she would teach him how to be a good waiter. But for the life of her, she never had any tips on how to deal with large amounts of people.
It was going to be a very long day.
oOo
Hermione stood in front of her bathroom mirror. She only had one article of clothing that was blue, a sweater that was too tight, too low cut for a first date, and very uncomfortable. She knew that she had to wear it though, or she'd feel the wrath of Ginevra Weasley. She checked the time, it was 5:45. She'd been getting ready for almost two hours. Her hair took up most of the time, but the other half hour she'd spent in the bathroom. Were smoky eyes too trampy for a first date? Should she wear heels, sandals, or both? She hadn't been on a date for so long, she didn't know proper etiquette. Were they supposed to shake hands when they met each other, or hug? She had no idea. If she had to be socially awkward, she could at least look well. Before she could analyze herself in the mirror any longer, the phone rang.
"Hello." It wasn't a question. She knew who it was.
"Hey Hermione! Are you wearing blue like I told Harry to tell you?" Ginny said warningly.
"Yes, ma'am. What color are you wearing?"
"Silver."
"How would any color possibly clash with silver?" Hermione asked angrily.
"Now, that you mention it, I guess it wouldn't matter. But I like the way blue reflects off of silver. It reminds me of Cinderella." She giggled.
"I'm wearing yellow now." Hermione said flatly.
"Oh, don't be spiteful! At least wear purple. That lilac tunic looks great on you. Do you even own anything yellow?"
"I could always use magic. I might turn your top yellow from under the table."
"No you wouldn't. Harry would get mad at you. He doesn't like it when I cry. We'll pick you up in 10; I've got to brush my hair." Ginny had this strange idea that if she brushed her hair one hundred times a day, she would eventually turn into a princess.
They said their goodbyes and in ten minutes, as promised, Ginny and Harry and Hermione's date arrived at her apartment.
Her date turned out to be Reggie. He held out his hand for her to shake. As they shook hands Hermione gave Harry a death glare that was even more threatening than Voldemort's. He looked confused, then realizing his mistake; he slapped his hand onto his forehead. When they were finally outside, Harry whispered in Hermione's ear, "Sorry! I forgot to tell Ginny to cross him off the list. I didn't know he was her first choice!" Hermione would forgive him, if, and only if, this was her and Reggie's first, and only, date. Period.
The restaurant was only three blocks away from Hermione's place, so the four walked there. Ron and Charlotte were already outside of the pub when they arrived. The six of them walked inside. Above them, the restaurant sign read, "The Paramount Pub."
