Author's Note: This one is a monster. It almost swallowed me whole. I'm sorry. Only three chapters left after this one! Yay!

Chapter Twenty-One

She refused to hide from him. Oh, it would certainly be easy to do so in such a large house and with the mountains of research she still climbed each day, but Hermione didn't want to keep pushing anyone else she cared of out of her life. When she passed him in the house, she greeted him with a bright smile. As soon as Winky returned home and resumed her usual meal schedules, she was right there at the kitchen table on time to sit across from him every single meal. Their conversations could be a bit awkward and shallow. She didn't care. Until he gave her a reason to move out of the house, she wasn't leaving.

Her lifestyle afforded her plenty of opportunities to think long and hard about her life and the people in it. With no exciting social life, by her own design, she didn't fill the idle hours of her day with inane conversations with people she didn't like. Most invitations were discarded immediately into the rubbish bin when they were opened. Still avoiding her post whenever possible, often she discovered she'd been invited to some ridiculous function weeks after it was over. When she wasn't preparing her case for the Wizengamot, she reflected on the previous thirty-something years of her life she could remember.

One aspect of the close self-reflection she didn't particularly care for was the realization that she'd been just awful to the ones who really cared about her. Even though he refused to touch on any important topic in her presence, she knew that Cormac was still upset with how ghastly she'd treated him on New Years and the other embarrassing times before that. Nothing he said that night on the pavement outside of the Leaky Cauldron had been wrong. She had used him to try to make Ron jealous. A simple kiss on the cheek at midnight or even a fairly chaste one of the lips would've sufficed to fulfill the requirements of kissing a loved one at midnight. The way she'd turned it into a spectacle was wrong. She'd embarrassed him, made him feel like he was nothing more than a prop she could use when it suited her to do so. Many times in the following weeks she wanted to apologize, but each time she stopped herself. He'd made it clear he didn't want another apology.

Her relationship with Rose was strained in the early days after their dismal New Years Eve. After spending the day before nursing a terrible hangover, Hermione was anxious about returning to their office. Cold, at first, Rose didn't say anything beyond 'good morning'. She was the sort of person to be incredibly protective of the people she loved and few people were as loved as her cousin. More shame filled Hermione. Would she ever get back to a point in her life when she felt like she wasn't just constantly disappointing all of those around her?

By the middle of January, there was a thaw in the office. Either Rose was no longer angry with Hermione or she'd chosen to forgive her. Either way didn't matter to Hermione. She was just glad to have some semblance of normality back in her workday. Her life was getting rather lonely with the cousins being polite, but cool.

In a fairly odd mood one afternoon, she could no longer focus on the words on the parchment in front of her face. Covered in tiny scribbles, she was certain she'd written down everything that could possibly help make her case to the Wizengamot why the Pureblood inheritance law needed to be overturned. The process of putting it into a logical order was daunting. She knew from past experience trying to get other Ministry officials interested in freeing the house-elves that she couldn't just bombard them with facts or they'd quickly lose interest. Nothing was worse in that situation than a bored listener. Stuck on her outline, she allowed her mind to wander. Before her better sense could stop her, she asked her assistant a question out loud that had been bothering her since New Years.

"Is Cormac still in love with his ex-wife?"

Rose's quill stopped scratching on the report she was finishing. With a furrowed brow and slightly narrowed eyes, her assistant stared at Hermione for a few uncomfortable seconds of silence. She wished she hadn't said anything. It wasn't her business if Cormac still pined after the woman who broke his heart. Love was rarely logical. What if Rose got the wrong impression as to why she was asking? She feared the chill between them would return.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that. It's none of my business."

"Why do you want to know that?"

She didn't have a good reason. At least she didn't think curiosity was good enough. Not for something so personal.

"Just forget I asked. I shouldn't have in the first place."

"I know love can be complicated, but it's not that insane."

A loud burst of laughter bubbled out of Rose catching Hermione completely off-guard. Where was the humor? She felt more confused and wished she could've just kept her mouth shut.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I know I shouldn't laugh, but the idea that Cormac is still in love with that evil cow is hilarious."

"He loved her once. Believe me when I say you can't just easily turn that off. A part of me still loves Ron."

"Are you still in love with your ex-husband?"

"No, I fell out of love with Ron a long time ago, before we even divorced."

There was no hesitation in her answer. She meant every word. As she answered, she thought she noticed Rose's shoulders relax. Did she so unnerve the woman?

I can't speak for Cormac, but…"

A knock on their open door stopped Rose from completing her sentence. Annoyed that she was interrupted, Hermione looked towards the door ready to be rude to the intruder. When she saw Cormac standing there, she didn't know whether to laugh or run. Did he hear them?

"Ahh, perfect timing, Cormac. You can answer Hermione's question."

The urge to run out of the room and then the building as fast as she could won. Of course with Cormac still standing in the doorway and the promise that she made to herself that she wouldn't run from him again, Hermione stayed in her chair, longing for the humiliation to be over quickly.

"What question is that?"

"Hermione wants to know if you're still in love with Beatriz."

He didn't answer at once. Each second that ticked by with Cormac staring at her with an inscrutable expression on his face became more and more difficult to bear.

"Why?"

It was as if his cousin wasn't even in the room. Cormac kept his eyes focused firmly on Hermione, hardly daring to breathe. She kept replaying what he said to her on the pavement outside of the Leaky Cauldron. When would she be brave enough to ask him what he meant and would he be willing to talk when she did?

"I just…"

Another knock on the open doorframe provided the perfect escape. Unsure why their office was suddenly so popular, Hermione didn't care. She greeted her boss Kenneth with a bright smile. His timing was impeccable. If she wasn't certain he would take it the wrong way, she'd kiss the wizard.

"Yes, Kenneth? What can I do for you?"

He returned her greeting with a sheepish grin.

"I dropped by for this week's placement report, but I didn't mean to interrupt. I wasn't aware you had a guest."

"Don't mind me, Kenneth. I just popped in to invite my cousin to dinner this weekend. I wouldn't dream of standing in the way of these ladies' very important work."

"Please don't rush away on my account, Cormac. I was just passing by. I could come back later."

"Nonsense. Rosie, I'll send you a memo with the details. Hermione, you and I will talk at home."

He made sure to look her directly in the eyes as he spoke. There was such finality in his statement that she knew he meant it. They would finally have a talk and it wouldn't be limited to the weather or how her research was going or how the renovations were coming along. Nervous, but mostly relieved, she knew it would be better for both of them if they stopped avoiding the issue and each other. Cormac extended his hand to Kenneth. Following a polite farewell, he left the office.

"I hope I didn't scare him off."

"Oh, not at all. HIs office has been fairly busy the past few weeks. Lots of people are planning their summer holidays."

Rose handed him that week's placement report with a somewhat forced smile Hermione recognized as not being entirely genuine. No doubt she was annoyed their discussion about Cormac's feelings for his ex-wide was abruptly ended and rescheduled for a location she wasn't invited. Kenneth didn't linger long. Once they were alone again, Hermione could feel Rose staring. Trying and failing to ignore it, she finally had to say something.

"Is there something else, Rose?"

"You and Cormac… is there..? Never mind. It's not my business."

Grateful for the chance to escape from Rose's questioning, Hermione dove back into her research. The younger witch was intelligent and observant. Likely she knew a lot more about what was going on than she let on. For the time being, that discussion could be saved for another day.

Anxious about the promise of her conversation with Cormac, time seemed to fly by at a high speed. The closer it came to the end of the day, the more her nerves threatened to overpower her good senses. She knew they had to clear the air. If they didn't, it would only be a matter of time before their living arrangement became untenable and their friendship soured forever. As strange as it might have been only a year earlier to believe, she didn't want to imagine her life without Cormac in it. The exact role, if there even was one beyond dear friend, wasn't yet clear. All she knew was she'd gotten used to having him around and she liked it.

Once home, she stopped at the front door to take a deep, calming breath before she stepped inside. Though she was optimistic that Cormac's willingness to talk to her was a positive development, she also knew she needed to be pragmatic. There was always a chance they would come to the conclusion that it was best she move out. At least she could comforted with the reminder that Kingsley promised her she would never be homeless. That took some of the pressure off.

Inside the front hall, Hermione removed her cloak. Almost as if she had been watching for her arrival, and knowing the house-elf she had, Winky plucked the garment out of Hermione's hands to hang up on the coat rack next to the front door. Fiercely cold outside, it felt marvelous to step into the warmth. Thanks to another hard couple of days of work the previous weekend, Eamon was finally able to fix their heating issues. It was wonderful to not freeze half to death in the middle of the night on the way to the toilet. She'd forgotten what a simple pleasure that was that she'd always taken for granted.

"Come in here, Hermione, and join me for a drink."

Her feet moved towards Cormac's voice where he sat in his usual spot on the sofa. Worried at first that he'd already been drinking, she relaxed when she saw him fill up a second teacup. Both of them needed to be sober if they were going to truly talk. She accepted the cup once she'd kicked her shoes off and sat in her place. She couldn't remember the last time they'd both been in that same room at the same time since Christmas. Between her long hours researching, his frequent trips for work, and the lingering awkwardness, the room hadn't gotten much use. She'd missed the evenings they used to spend together.

"No."

"What?"

"The answer to your question. Am I still in love with my ex-wife? No."

She never expected they would get so serious right from the beginning. Difficult conversations usually required a bit of warming up first. It surprised her, but she was glad. She'd been afraid a little since that afternoon he didn't actually mean it when he said they would talk. Maybe he'd finally spent enough time on his own thinking.

"Oh. Okay. I appreciate you answering my question."

Even as the words came out of her mouth she could hear how stiff and strange her voiced sounded. What was wrong with her? Could she no longer have a simple talk with a friend? He had such a bizarre effect on her too. Was that something she always felt or did it only develop after their night together Christmas?

"Now, I won't deny that a small part of me will always love and care about Bea no matter how savagely she broke my heart, but no, I'm not in love with her. I'm not sure when exactly I stopped, but I know it's been a long time."

"I don't know when I fell out of love with Ron either. It was such a gradual process that I didn't even notice."

It was sad when she thought about the truth of her feelings for her ex-husband. Like Cormac, she knew she would never stop caring about Ron and wanting him to be happy, but she knew they stopped making each other happy years earlier. Once she heard someone on one of those talk shows her mother often had playing in the background that divorce was a death with no closure. There was no body to bury. There was no last moment or even a definitive end. One couldn't really even describe it as a death out loud because there would always be those who would criticize the description, but it was a death. Not of a person, of course. It was the death of a planned future, the death of a hope, the death of a dream. In some cases, it was the death of a family. Pain was still pain regardless of the package it arrived in.

"Did I give you some reason to believe I still was in love with her? Did I say something?"

His voice was soft and gentle, so full of concern. If she could only read his mind! She was scared to know what he was thinking. Honesty was truly the only option she had if she didn't want to risk losing their friendship. It might embarrass her, but it wasn't fair to him to only share half the truth.

"You know the opposite of love isn't hate? It's indifference. How could I tell my marriage was failing or rather it had already failed? Because Ron didn't want to be around me and I didn't care. Not really. Yes, I would get angry with him when he didn't tell me he was working late or meeting his friends after work, but to be truthful, I usually wasn't all that bothered when he didn't come home. It was easier. You can't really argue with someone if they're not there, can you?"

The truth wasn't always easy to face. All of the time she'd spent alone since her divorce gave her the opportunity to reflect on her marriage. Where it had gone wrong. What she'd failed to do. She had a lot of regrets. There were many times she hadn't been a good wife, even a good friend. That was something she still struggled with as her actions in recent weeks proved. It was much easier to see where it all had gone wrong and where she could've been better when she could take a step back to view a situation or event in a calmer, less emotional manner.

"You never talk about your ex-wife. I lived here for months before I ever even heard you say her name. When you talk about her, you are far from indifferent. You're still very angry. My marriage had a gradual, drawn-out death. Your entire world was changed the moment you got your results back from the Healer. No one would blame you for continuing to have feelings for her. At least no one who understood how complicated it could all be at any rate."

There was another reason she was embarrassed to admit. When she paused, he didn't immediately address her concerns or deny them. Either he could tell she had something more to say or he wasn't done digesting her words. Afraid she would lose her nerve if she let too much time pass, she blurted out another reason she thought Cormac might still be in love with his ex-wife.

"And she's one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. I can't imagine it's easy to stop loving someone who looks like that."

Cormac's heavy sigh was worrisome. Was she right? She didn't know why the thought of him still being in love with his ex-wife bothered her so much, but she couldn't deny that it did. A lot.

"Yes, I won't argue with you that Beatriz is very beautiful, but if you sincerely believe that that is reason enough for me to still be in love with her than I'm afraid I haven't allowed you to get to know the real Cormac McLaggen."

"No, that's not true."

"I know when I was younger I was an obnoxious, arrogant little arsehole. I've never denied that. Most teenage boys are just awful, but I grew up. If I haven't shown you that side of me, then I'm very sorry."

It had never been her intention to insult him, but even as he responded calmly, she realized she had. Would she always be doomed to make herself a fool when it came to him? She already felt clumsy and awkward around him since Christmas. Was it going to be like that forever now? The thought made her deeply sad. They'd been good friends before they were foolish and drunk.

"Beatriz is beautiful, but there's not that much else to her if I can be honest."

"What do you mean?"

"I shouldn't say so because it's a bit mean, but it's true. She's beautiful and she knows it and she uses it to her advantage. But there's not any substance to her. Yes, I'll admit that I fell for her because I was sure I'd never seen anyone quite like her and she has this way of flirting with you that makes you feel like the most important and interesting man that ever existed. I fell for it. She was determined to marry a Quidditch player and even thought I really wasn't very good, I'd do. She'd never really traveled from home before when we met so I think maybe she also assumed marrying a foreign wizard would be a much more interesting experience. I really couldn't say."

Hermione desperately wished relationships weren't quite so complicated. Other species seemed to exist quite peacefully with each other without any unneeded, unnecessary dramatics. Why couldn't humans? The older she grew, the more she realized she understood less about her fellow humans than she realized.

"Have you ever found yourself resenting the very trait about a person that attracted you to them in the first place?"

She nodded, but didn't elaborate out of concern she might inadvertently take over the conversation. It was so rare that he was open that she didn't want to risk him closing back up again too quickly. Her desire to know everything was strong, but she also understood that she couldn't be too pushy. Maybe that worked for her in the past. It didn't mean it would always work.

"Before Sofie was born, being beautiful was Bea's sole purpose in life. I told you before she was spoiled and never learned to do much of anything because she grew up in a wealthy family with house-elves. The only meals she was ever responsible for in her entire life were when she was nursing Sofie and even that almost didn't happen because she feared it would make her breasts ugly and deformed when she was done."

He rolled his eyes in such an exaggerated, dramatic fashion that Hermione laughed. They needed a moment of levity in the middle of such a serious discussion. Fascinated by the sound of his horrible ex-wife, she encouraged him to keep going. If she learned all of the woman's negative traits, perhaps she wouldn't be as intimidated by her looks.

"After she was born, she had a more important purpose. She's bad at a lot, but she really is a very good mum. But being beautiful was all she really knew. I appreciated it at first naturally. I'm just a man after all. But you would not believe the amount of time and money she spent on beauty potions and making herself always look perfect. Absolutely exhausting. She could never just lounge around at home in her pajamas. No, from the moment she woke up she had to start the long routine she did every single day. I was her husband for almost ten years and I can hardly remember what she looked like when she was bare-faced with imperfect hair. You know how sometimes you wear your hair messy and piled on top of your head?"

Vividly she recalled him kissing the back of her neck in her bathroom. She'd been embarrassed that her hair wasn't perfect in that moment. Had she been wrong to think he would've preferred that to reality? She nodded.

"Bea would never dare allow herself to be so comfortable even in her own home. It used to drive me mad. Made me think that my own wife couldn't even be comfortable or relaxed enough around me not to care what her hair looked like. What kind of husband does that make me if my wife can't relax around me?"

"It's not about you, Cormac. It sounds like she's a very insecure woman."

"That's it exactly. You don't even know her and you can see that. Took me years to see that. So no, it's actually not that hard to fall out of love with a woman who can't even relax enough to put her hair up or kick her shoes off before she climbs on the sofa or fall asleep reading a dusty, old book snoring."

Realizing he was talking about her, she smiled.

"I do not snore."

"Oh, but you do. Quite loudly sometimes too. When your room was near mine, I could hear you through the walls."

Her turn to roll her eyes, she threw one of the small pillows on the sofa at the laughing wizard. Maybe she did snore. It was hardly something a person could control.

"I may not ever get to the point where I'm completely indifferent to Bea, but I promise that I don't want her. She could show up naked in my bedroom in the middle of the night begging me to take her back, and I wouldn't even think twice about kicking her out. I've moved on."

"I'm glad to hear that."

She wasn't sure what possessed her to make such a statement. It just sort of slipped out, but she wasn't ashamed. She meant it. Regardless of what happened next, if they were able to continue to live together or even continue to be friends or not, it was comforting to know that he wasn't still pining over his horrible ex-wife. He deserved so much better than that.

"Hermione, on New Year's…"

Cormac started to speak and almost immediately closed his mouth again. Just by looking at his countenance she could see that he was unsure how to proceed with their discussion. It was easier to just ignore how different it was between them since the beginning of the month and continue to pretend like everything was fine, but she knew it would be best to get it all out in the open as soon as they could.

"You were absolutely correct, Cormac. Everything you said. I was drunk and I was feeling sorry for myself. Seeing Ron just made me remember all of the past New Years Eves we had together. Did you know he proposed at midnight on New Years Eve?"

"No, I had no idea."

"Yes, well, I tried to push that out of my mind that night. That was a big part of the reason why I wanted to just stay home. I knew I would think about that night and it would make me sad. That's part of the reason why I didn't push away the alcohol that was offered. It was easier to forget the more I drank."

"I'm really sorry."

"No, there's nothing for you to apologize for. I was the one who threw myself at you at midnight on purpose to make a spectacle. I knew it would make Ron jealous because of his past with you and I just wanted… I just wanted to feel like I was desirable again."

A fleeting worry that he'd spiked her tea with Veritaserum almost made her laugh out loud. She knew what she was doing. Despite what all of the terrible novels said, truth potions were actually quite rare. Otherwise there would be a whole lot more furious and scorned lovers out in the world. And a great deal more children in trouble with their parents. She was also thankful that truth spells were dodgy at best.

"You don't think you're desirable?"

The concern from earlier was back in his tone. When she dared to look at his face, she knew he wasn't hiding his true feelings. Again, it would be easier to tell a harmless lie, but she knew that was wrong. If he had been so open, she owed him just as much.

"Not especially, no, if I must be honest. My own husband didn't want me. Did you know he and I hadn't… oh, never mind. You don't need to know all of the depressing aspects of my past. Just know that there was a reason I was nervous Christmas. It had been a really long time since I…"

"No, I understand. You don't have to explain. My own wife carried on a years-long affair with one of my close friends and then married him before the ink was even dry on our divorce decree. I understand completely what it feels like to be undesirable. But if it helps, you're not."

"Thank you. Neither are you."

They exchanged a couple of sad smiles. It was a cruel trick of nature that one's own biggest critic was generally themselves. The quiet voices that whispered in their heads were rarely the kindest voices nor were they the easiest to ignore.

"And you certainly didn't seem out of practice either."

She could feel her cheeks blush as she tried to stifle an embarrassed laugh. Neither of them had been so blunt about their Christmas activities since that night. While she wasn't sure she was at a place yet where she could just casually mention them and make a joke, it was encouraging that at least they no longer seemed to be trying to avoid mentioning that it happened at all. Small progress.

"I don't know if I should thank you for soothing my ego or slap you for being impertinent."

"Either could be pleasurable under the right circumstances."

"You're terrible, Cormac McLaggen."

"I never said I wasn't."

He smiled and winked at her before rising from the sofa. Extending his hand, he helped her to her feet. They'd talked much longer than she realized. The smells wafting from the kitchen reminded her she'd forgotten to eat lunch that day. Winky would be finished with dinner soon.

There was a subtle shifting between them that night. Even though they didn't discuss everything that they probably should have at once, it was a start. She could rest easier with the knowledge they could talk when they set their minds to it. Certainly all was not hopeless after all. Over dinner they talked and laughed like old friends, but they kept from the more serious topics. No further mention was made of Christmas or what he said to her on the pavement outside of the Leaky Cauldron. It could keep until later. Neither wanted to scare the other one off.

January passed in a mad blur of research and more research. Hermione hadn't received any message from Kingsley about when she could expect to present to the Wizengamot. It was tempting to drop by his office every day to try to badger the date out of him. She knew better than that. Kingsley was a patient man, but he was still a man. She feared reaching the end of his long fuse. Once or twice in their years of friendship she'd seen what happened when she did. It wasn't an experience she would care to repeat.

The first day of the new month fell on a Friday. Exhausted from another day of scribbling out tiny notes, Hermione was anxious for a break that weekend. Cool temperatures and promise of rain all weekend meant she could look forward to sleeping in and maybe even taking a nap or two. It was decadent and a bit lazy, but she deserved it from time to time.

She was thinking about slipping into a hot bubble bath the moment she got home and staying in her pajamas until Monday morning when she stepped into the lift to take her to the Atrium. With her mind on such pleasant thoughts, she didn't notice Kenneth step in right behind her. Only when the door closed and he spoke to her did she realize they were alone.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Kenneth. I was a million worlds away. What did you say?"

"That's all right. It has been a long week. That incident with the troll on Monday just made my entire week a nightmare. Who knew one stupid, ugly creature could create such a pile of paperwork? I asked you if you had any plans this weekend."

"No, I don't. I was planning a quiet evening at home. You?"

"Well, I was wondering… if it wouldn't be too impertinent. You don't have to say yes, of course, but I wondered if you might like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

His request was a surprise to say the least. While Kenneth had always been friendly to her since she started working in the Ministry, he'd never asked her out to dinner before. Was it a date? And if it was, did she want it to be one? She couldn't deny that many single witches had already noticed he was a very attractive man.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

Apparently he was even more attractive when he was flustered and nervous. His reddened cheeks made her smile. Before she could talk herself out of it, she found herself agreeing. The relief on his face when she said yes was worth it. He was a nice man. Maybe they'd even be able to enjoy themselves.

"What restaurant do you want to go to? I can meet you there."

"Would it be terribly forward of me to ask to pick you up at home? I heard a rumor that you and Cormac have been restoring the old Crouch house. I would love to see it. I was there once when I was very small. My father is a cousin to the Crouches."

"Oh, well I don't see why that would be a problem. Do you still know where it is?"

By the time the lift doors opened to the Atrium, their plans were set. He would be there half an hour before their reservation he would make as soon as he got home. Nervous that perhaps she'd been too hasty to agree, Hermione wished him farewell at the employee exit. Was she making a mistake?

A few minutes before half-past six the next evening, Cormac was surprised to see Hermione descend the main staircase in a brand new dress she hadn't yet had an occasion nice enough to wear. She felt maybe she'd tried just a little too hard when she saw his eyes move up and down her entire body with frank admiration. Reminders of Christmas were never far from her mind. Perhaps realizing he wasn't guarding his facial expressions as well as he should, Cormac cleared his throat.

"Please tell me you're on your way out for the evening because if that's what you are wearing to dinner in the kitchen, I'm very underdressed."

He was always quick with a joke when he didn't want to reveal his true thoughts. It could be charming if also a bit frustrating. She'd come to value his input and thoughts.

"Yes, I'm going out to dinner with a friend."

"Oh, lovely. A date?"

Tempted to lie, she decided she had too much respect for him to do so. It might be uncomfortable, but a lie would be much worse.

"I think so, but I'm honestly not entirely sure."

"Who's the lucky bloke?"

Before another word could exit her mouth, the doorbell rang. Cormac's face split into a wide grin. His longer legs got him to the door first. If he was surprised to see Kenneth on the other side, he didn't show it.

"Good evening, Kenneth. Please come inside. It's freezing out there."

Kenneth did exactly as he was asked. When Cormac offered to take his cloak, Hermione announced it was unnecessary. They wouldn't be there long enough. Cormac insisted.

"No. We have a reservation. It would be terribly rude to be late."

"Well, actually…" Kenneth's cheeks turned pink even as he smiled. "I pushed back our reservation an hour because I was hoping to beg Cormac for a tour."

Only good manners and the fact that the man was technically her boss kept Hermione from protesting in a very vocal and obscene manner. She felt ill at ease with the whole dinner to begin with and certainly didn't want to delay it any longer. The sooner it began, the earlier it would be over. As handsome as Kenneth undoubtedly was, she didn't have a single spark of interest in him. She wished she could've gone back in time to politely yet firmly turn him down.

"Of course! There is still a lot left to do, but I'll be happy to give you a tour."

Behind Kenneth's back, Hermione's glare was answered with a big smile from Cormac. She was tempted to hex him until he cried. What was he playing at? Cormac led them both into the remodeled kitchen where Winky was preparing dinner. Seeing a house-elf at the cooker, Kenneth couldn't keep from turning towards Hermione with an amused grin.

"Winky is free and Cormac pays her a very generous salary."

"I have no doubt."

The tour of the entire house seemed to drag on and on. Kenneth had dozens of questions for Cormac who was only too happy to answer them at length. At times Hermione wondered if the men even remembered she was still there. When Cormac showed him every single room, including her bedroom, the entire attic, and the boiler room, she was close to losing her patience with them both. Seeing that they were in danger of being late for their reservation, Kenneth reluctantly agreed the gardens could be saved for another, less rainy day. Cormac led them to the front door.

"You two have a wonderful evening and Kenneth? Please make sure the young lady is home at a decent hour."

Kenneth laughed, but as Hermione walked past Cormac she couldn't stop herself from lightly slapping his stomach with the back of her hand. He only laughed again. She didn't use enough force to actually hurt him.

They arrived at their chosen restaurant on time. Prepared for them, the wizard who greeted them at the door showed them straight to their table. Tucked away in a private corner, there seemed to be no doubt that she was indeed on a date. The small hope within her that it would turn out to be a business dinner was obliterated the moment Kenneth ordered an expensive bottle of wine for the table. Already she began formulating in her mind how she was going to politely thank him for the meal and explain she wasn't ready to be in a relationship yet without crushing him. Work was bad enough without being able to speak to the boss free of lingering guilt.

"This is a very nice restaurant. I've never been here before."

"Oh, you haven't? I assumed you had. Your best friend Harry was raving about it recently in a meeting."

Hermione felt the smile she'd plastered on her face begin to weaken. That wasn't all he'd assumed that wasn't true. Torn between setting Kenneth straight and just letting it go as she normally did, she finally chose to be blunt. What harm could it possibly do?

"Harry's not actually my best friend, you know. He hasn't been for over ten years now."

"Oh dear, I'm terribly sorry. You were so close in school and then you both married siblings. I just thought…"

"No, it's all right. Most people automatically assume I'm still best friends with him, but we grew apart. I went back to Hogwarts after the war and he went straight to auror training. My ex went with him so they became closer friends."

Her friendship with Harry was something of a sore subject. It was complicated since the war ended. Some friendships get stronger when a trauma is shared, but others never recover. With Voldemort defeated and able to take a deep breath without fear for the first time in years, Harry changed. They all changed. No longer needing her help with his schoolwork or with planning how to fight Voldemort, he didn't always know how to be her friend. She felt the same way. Able to share his work experiences with Ron, especially during training, she first started feeling left out again when she returned to school alone. Friendships morphed and developed and even ended as life progressed.

"I suppose there are few people who are best friends with their school chums for their entire lives. I certainly don't see mine very often."

"Exactly. The newspapers referred to us as something like a set after the war. Harry was often featured alone, but Ron and I were always just tacked on like we weren't our own individuals. Besides, no one wants to hear the boring truth that people don't stay the same forever. None of us are the people we were fifteen years ago when the war ended."

"Is that why the newspapers have been so nasty and awful about you? You're an easy target alone and you're threatening the fantasy of the image of the innocent war heroes being together forever?"

Surprised both by his astute analysis and the fact that he didn't believe the lies written about her, Hermione's forced smile easily turned into a real one. Too often when she'd been feeling down over the previous year, she'd been afraid she would be hated forever by the simpletons who swallowed whatever news they heard whole. Critical thinking seemed to be a myth of the past. Knowing she had at least one other person who could see through the lies lightened the burden on her shoulders.

"Some of them certainly, but Rita Skeeter is just evil."

"That's something you and I can both agree on."

Kenneth clinked his wine glass with hers. Their conversation had to be paused long enough for their orders to be taken. She sipped carefully at her glass, savoring the rich taste. As much as she wanted to drink it all, she knew she had to keep a clear head. Recent history did indeed prove she had a tendency to make poor choices under the influence. Doing so around Kenneth would be unwise. No matter what happened, they would still have to work together.

"Please don't think me too critical of Harry. He really does have a good heart, but he and I simply drifted apart."

"I don't think that way at all. It's perfectly understandable."

"He's tried to be a good friend to me since my divorce, but it's been… well, let's just say that I haven't been receptive of all of his efforts. At first he… I'm sorry. You don't want to hear about my divorce."

"No, please go on. I want to know. I've wanted to know, but didn't quite know my proper place."

"Well, at first Harry tried to convince me that I didn't really want a divorce. Ron too, I'm sure. It was sad to see that he valued and wanted my marriage more than I did, but he has that whole 'saving people thing'. He thought he could save my marriage. I appreciate that he cared enough, but it was not his to save. He used to send me owls all the time asking me to meet him to talk. I stopped opening them. Then he started just randomly coming by my office."

Recalling a particular incident that had been a little embarrassing, she chuckled.

"Do you remember the day several months ago you came into my office right as I was crawling out from underneath my desk? I told you I dropped my quill."

"Yes, I do. It was rather unforgettable actually."

"You probably passed Harry in the corridor. He'd just been in to see me. I hid under my desk."

Kenneth laughed.

"No."

"I did. Even used a cloaking spell in case he walked around behind my chair."

It actually felt good to confess the truth. She'd been too embarrassed to tell anyone to what lengths she'd gone just to avoid listening to another plea from Harry that she talk it over with Ron again or another question asking her if she was doing all right. Effective, yet extreme, she didn't regret climbing under her desk. In that moment, she didn't possess the emotional energy required to handle that interaction. Eventually, like his father-in-law, Harry got the hint that she didn't want to speak to him about her failed marriage. Perhaps a day would come in the future when they could be friends again, but if it didn't happen, she would cherish the memories, bad and good, that they made together and appreciate what part he played in who she became.

"Hermione, I know it must've seemed strange to you when I asked you out to dinner, but I have to confess that I have an ulterior motive."

Suddenly nervous, she could tell he wasn't comfortable admitting the truth. His eyes no longer met hers. He fidgeted with the stem of his wine glass. All sorts of scenarios, each one worse than the last, ran through her mind. If it wasn't a date, what was it?

"Cormac is your best friend. I've noticed it before, but it was obvious this evening during the tour of your house. You probably know him better than anyone. Do you think… do you think he would ever be interested in going out on a date with me?"

Evidently she'd misread the situation as much as it was possible to misread it. Of course the more she thought about how Kenneth just happened to stop by her office for a report he rarely read at the exact moment Cormac stood in the doorway made more sense than sheer coincidence. And there were a few moments during the house tour he manipulated her into allowing that seemed odd at the time. Kenneth was a dear man, but he was a horrible flirt. Not an unrepentant one, but a really, really bad one. Unsure whether she was going to laugh at how adorable the man was or cry because she knew she was going to have to disappoint him with the truth, she didn't immediately answer. Her silence only made him nervously babble on.

"I fancied him at Hogwarts but never dared tell anyone. His ladies' man persona always felt a little too forced to be real and I heard rumors that the reason he got divorced was because he was caught having an affair with his wife's brother."

"Oh, Kenneth…"

She reached across the table to take hold of his hand. Physical touch could sometimes soften the blow of bad news.

"I'm sorry, but Cormac isn't gay."

"But New Years you said you weren't exactly his type."

"Yes, because I was feeling sorry for myself that night and didn't feel like I was pretty enough after seeing a picture of his ex-wife."

Kenneth sighed heavily and raised a single eyebrow.

"You should be nicer to yourself, Hermione. If I liked witches, I would absolutely ask you out on a date."

"And clearly I would accept."

"Oh dear, did you think..?"

With his elbow on the table, he covered his face in his free hand to sigh again. Hermione laughed, squeezing his other hand before releasing it.

"It's fine, Kenneth. I shouldn't have assumed you were asking me out on a date."

"I just assumed you knew I was gay because of Charlie."

"Charlie Weasley?"

"Yes, the year I spent in Romania at the dragon reserve he and I were close. He didn't tell you?"

"No, Charlie's not the sort of wizard to kiss and tell. None of us ever know anything about his relationships, but I am glad to hear that he had you. He's a good one."

The wizard nodded his head, a sad, wistful smile appearing on his lips. There was something more there than she realized. Clearly it hadn't just been a harmless fling with her ex-brother-in-law. She wanted details.

"Now, Kenneth, are you the sort of wizard to kiss and tell?"

His wistful smile was replaced with a naughty grin that told her she could actually get the answers she wanted. No longer concerned she might accidentally throw herself at her boss in a drunken, sad state, she refilled her empty wine glass.

"Well…"

After one of the most enjoyable evenings Hermione had had in months, she hugged Kenneth outside of the restaurant to say goodbye. Once he got started talking, it was hard to get him to stop. She loved finding out more about the man she'd known since she was eleven. It seemed that she had made many false assumptions about people who had been in her life. There was always something new to learn.

In an excellent mood when she returned home, she laughed to herself as she removed her cloak. Little did she know when the evening began that a little bit of wine in her boss made him funny and a lot made him hilarious. They'd taken their time enjoying dinner, promising each other as they left that they would do it again soon.

"Enjoy your evening with Towler?"

She stepped inside the living room to find Cormac seated in his usual spot on the sofa. Just like he had the night she met Viktor for dinner, he was drinking and whether he would admit it or not, waiting up for her.

"Did he give you a proper goodnight kiss?"

"I had a lovely evening and Kenneth was a perfect gentleman."

"Nothing surprising about that. Towler's always been bloody boring."

There was something in his voice that wasn't usually there. Anger, perhaps? It was subtle, but she'd been living with him long enough to notice when something was different. Could it be jealousy? Was that what she was hoping it might be?

"I found him to be quite delightful actually. Not boring at all."

Sitting down on the sofa next to him, she laughed at his narrowed eyes.

"And if you must know, I'm not his type. He's not interested in me."

"So a bloody boring idiot, is he?"

"You might not think so when I tell you the reason he asked me out tonight was to ask me if I thought you would be interested in going out with him."

Taking aback by her statement, Cormac needed a few moments for the gravity of her words to fully process. When successful, he started to laugh.

"Okay, I was wrong. He does have excellent taste. I'm flattered, but sadly, he's not the one I'm interested in. Too much facial hair. Bound to be very irritable on sensitive skin."

Hermione rolled her eyes and playfully swatted at his chest. Easily catching it, Cormac didn't immediately release her hand. He pressed his lips against the back, then flipped it over to kiss the palm. When he kissed the inside of her wrist, she knew she had to say something. Unfortunately, she struggled to make a coherent thought.

"You've been drinking."

"Yes, quite a bit actually. Thought it would keep my mind from drifting to explicit thoughts of what you and Towler might be getting up to."

"Did it help?"

"Not in the slightest."

His blue eyes focused on her lips. She could tell that he wanted to kiss her, and if she allowed it happen, they could easily fall back into bed together again. A part of her longed for it to happen again, but she couldn't ignore the words he said to her right after midnight on New Years. She couldn't allow herself to hurt him again. If she threw caution to the wind, dragged him upstairs to pass another night in his arms, she would. Until she was ready for a relationship, she had to be more careful with his feelings.

"Kenneth called you my best friend tonight. For the first time I really thought about it and realized he was right. You are my best friend, Cormac. I never imagined that would happen, but it did. You've come to mean so much to me over the past several months. I would never want to do anything to jeopardize our friendship."

Cormac dropped her hand with a heavy sigh. Reaching for the bottle of fire whiskey on the table next to him, he filled his glass up.

"I'm not saying 'no' to you, Cormac. I'm saying 'not right now'."

He rose from the sofa, picked up the bottle, and headed for the door. Before he exited the room, he spoke again without turning his face.

"I suppose I'll just have to live with that."

She waited to move until she could no longer hear the echo of his footsteps climbing up the stairs. Once inside the safety of her bedroom, she wondered if she was wrong not to give in to their mutual desires. Long before her troubled mind allowed her to fall asleep, she came to the conclusion that she'd done what was right, not what was easy.

Winky served them a delicious late morning breakfast. Concerned that they might return to another period of awkwardness and silence, Hermione discovered instead a smiling, jovial wizard who acted as if nothing odd happened the night before. She hated that he could change his moods so quickly, especially when she knew he was only pretending.