Il Corvo reeked of money and pretension. Hermione wondered if she'd ever get used to this money-with-emphasis thing that Malfoy had. The floors gleamed with wood that had been stained so dark it looked black, and heavy black draperies folded along every wall, the velvet muffling conversations as well as proclaiming to anyone who knew to look that this establishment could afford a cleaning staff dedicated to keeping dust and doxies away. White table clothes almost shone in the dark room, dark tapers on each one, and the tables sat as isolated rocks on the dark sea of that wood. No one was packing diners in here, determined to make every inch of floor space turn a profit. She stood, almost dumbstuck in the foyer, before she leaned over to Draco and whispered, "It's so dark in here, how are we supposed to see the menu?"
He snickered. "Only peasants need light to read," he said in as pompous a voice as he could manage. A year ago she'd have been furious as that tone, convinced it proved the man using it was an elitist jerk. Now she could hear the way he mocked the pretension of a nearly black restaurant. "Besides, if you could see what you ordered, you might decide to send it back."
That made her swallow a snicker of her own.
The maitre'de led them to a table where two forms slowly took shape as they approached, coalescing into people lit by the flickering candles. One was Blaise Zabini.
Hermione stared at first Blaise and then at his date and a giant smile spread across her face. After the horrible revelation about Pansy and Jean — what was she going to do about him? — she was prepared to find delight in anything. She'd been delighted that Draco had been just as amused as she was by the inane lighting choices of Il Corvo. But the discovery of the identity of Blaise's mystery girlfriend, the one who despised Goyle and seemed to be away a lot, did more than delight her.
"Ginny Weasley!" she said. "You… you never told me!"
Draco held out her chair and, without thinking, she settled down into it and let him tuck her into the table as she beamed at Ginny. "You sneaky witch," she said.
Ginny grinned back. "Well," she said, "You know how Ron can be. At first I just didn't want to hear it about how I had another boyfriend — "
"He's never gotten over you and Harry breaking up," Hermione said, not sure why she was apologizing for Ron but doing it anyway. "He had this fantasy Harry would become his brother."
"Honestly," Ginny said in exasperation. "They live together. They work together. How much more togetherness does he need?"
"You don't suppose…?" Draco let the insinuation trail off as he sat down and Hermione laughed.
"Harry's straight. Oblivious to almost everything," she said, "but I asked him once, and he stumbled his way through a 'that I don't fancy you doesn't mean I don't like girls in general, Hermione' answer."
"I wish I could have heard that," Ginny said with obvious relish. "Anyway, at first I didn't want to hear how I'd moved on again, and then I didn't want to hear his complaints that I was seeing a Slytherin — "
"Merlin forbid," Hermione said.
"And then it seemed weird to go home and say, "So… I've been dating this guy for over a year now…"
"Your mother would have the wedding invitations printed before you'd finished that sentence," Hermione said.
Blaise's shudder was visible even by candlelight, but before they could say any thing else a waiter, naturally clad in black, glided up to the table and handed menus to the men and asked whether they would prefer flat or sparking water, and did they need to consult with the sommelier, or did they already know what wine they would prefer. The waiter managed to sound condescending even with those simple questions, and as she lowered the hand she'd had outstretched to take a menu back into her lap, she watched Blaise and Draco grin at one another before switching to a rapid conversation in French that the waiter clearly couldn't follow. At last, sounding put out he had to order in English, Draco requested a particular vineyard and vintage, "If you have it," he said, uttered in a tone that made it clear he doubted they did, and sent the man away with a flick of his fingers.
"Why don't I get a menu?" Hermione asked once the waiter was out of range. "Do women in this pompous world not read?"
"They don't make decisions," Blaise told her. He handed his menu over to Ginny. "Or so we pretend."
Draco scanned his menu quickly before passing it to her.
"I'm having trouble imagining your mother letting your father choose her dinner," Hermione said.
"I suspect they'd just give Narcissa a menu," Blaise said. He made a mean sound that might have been a laugh before adding, "And maybe let her order for Lucius."
"Her French is better," Draco said mildly.
"So how was Pansy," Blaise asked. "Did she whinge that life was unfair enough to give her the sniffles and keep her from getting her weekly manicure?"
Hermione could feel the amusement she'd been feeling at the absurdities of this restaurant flicker out. Even by candlelight Ginny could see the change in her expression and she reached a hand out, only pulling it back when she remembered how Hermione couldn't bear touch any longer. "What happened?" she asked. "Was she horrible to you? Because I can go give her a piece of my mind."
Hermione shook her head.
"She slept with Jean," Draco said.
"Well, that was more information than I needed," Blaise said. "Where is that waiter with our wine? "
Ginny, however, blanched. Blaise saw, and his eyes got darker. He looked from Draco to Hermione and saw Pansy's fate in their averted eyes and he opened his mouth, but closed it as the waiter approached and began the ritual of presenting the bottle for him to inspect. Blaise said, "It's fine. Pour it for everyone."
The waiter looked shocked but when Draco almost growled he hurried to do just that. Blaise picked up his glass, drained it, and took the bottle to pour himself more. Then, after he drank half of that, he looked at Hermione. "How'd you find him?" he demanded. "Draco. Was it research? Did you know something? Have some kind of school girl crush that coalesced into your connection? What was it?"
"I don't know," she said. "I just… I just bumped into him and all the pain disappeared and I knew it was him." She looked down at the silverware. The light flickered off the flat blade of the table knife and she kept her eyes on the hypnotic reflection and tried not to think of what would have happened if she hadn't decided to go shopping that day, if she hadn't let Harry bully her into leaving Grimmauld Place because maybe she'd feel better if she got some air. "It was just luck."
"Then we get luck for Pansy," Blaise said. "Will she live long enough for felix felicis to work?"
Hermione looked up at him in shock and he rolled his eyes. "I'm an excellent brewer, Granger. It's just tedious but I'm more than up to it. We make the golden potion, we give it to her, and let luck lead her right to her… Merlin, the word 'mate' is rather unappealing. It's like you're a krup I want to breed or something."
"I just can't believe I didn't think of that," she said.
"I'm smarter than you are," Blaise said. "I just wasn't a dreadful grind at school."
"Does she have six months?" Draco asked.
Hermione wished she could say yes. "I made it that long," she said. "Longer. But I just don't know."
"So we brew and while it cooks we try other things," Blaise said. "We'll get everyone we know to visit her and touch her dainty hand to see if anyone takes."
"She's already expressed her opinion of that plan," Hermione said.
"So?" Blaise said. "You, I assume, didn't know that touching your one true love would make it immediately obvious who the poor bastard was?"
She shook her head. Thanks to research, she'd known her…mate… would make her well, would keep her alive, but she hadn't realized the effect would be so instantaneous.
"Then we have an advantage you didn't and we're going to use it. Pansy can keep her idiot opinions to herself, or mumble about them all day long. Whatever makes her happy. She thought that mouse costume was a good idea so we won't be following what passes for her judgement on this."
"I'm not her one true love." Draco had been sitting at the table, silently watching the pair of them, and when he interjected at last they both looked at him.
Blaise just snorted. "Whatever lies help you sleep," he said.
Hermione hoped her hurt didn't show on her face but, since he reached a finger out to brush against her arm, it probably did. The rush had become far more muted with the amount of time they'd spent in physical contact since Goyle's party and she just narrowed her lips into a tight line. "Not because of this," he said softly and that made her relax.
"What if it's someone like Goyle?" Ginny asked.
Blaise and Draco looked at one another.
"Let's fly that dragon when it comes," Blaise said at last. He drained his second glass of wine and looked around. "Where is that waiter? Honestly, the service here is terrible. You can barely see, they didn't print enough menus, and I want to place my order."
Ginny studied Hermione and said, as Blaise made a show of glowering in the direction the waiter had disappeared, "It's not your fault."
"Isn't it?" Hermione asked. "She invited him here to try to… if it weren't for me she'd never have — "
"No one made her fuck a Veela," Blaise said. "Try not to make everything about yourself, Granger. It's unattractive."
Draco took her hand and squeezed it. She let the warmth spread through her because she wanted the comfort. "We'll find him," he said. "We'll figure out why it was me for you so we can find hers, and it will be fine."
Hermione smiled a bit wanly and used her free hand to lift her wine to her mouth as the waiter appeared. She let Draco order for her. She didn't care what she ate. She just kept drinking.
. . . . . . . . .
A/N - Thank you so much for all the incredible support for this story. I'm a bit agog but very grateful.
Please note that as of next week I'm dropping down to a 2X/week update schedule, and possibly 1X/week after that. I just don't have the time to give this right now. Thank you for understanding.