Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or other references to the original work of J.K Rowling. I only own my own mistakes
-o-o-o-
The awkward silence was swallowing them whole. Draco cleared his throat too loudly and it caused Harry, who was seated opposite him, to look up from his menu. The restaurant was busy, the slightly stressed atmosphere made it obvious it was opening night.
Hermione quickly gathered Harry was in fact holding some grudges and Ginny had clearly been experimental with the truth. It was evident by the way he kept observing Hermione as if to see if she'd gone insane, lost her marbles and joined a cult.
The glares made her highly uncomfortable and the way his hands kept drumming on the surface of the table made nothing to ease her need for nicotine. She stepped outside for a cigarette two times, only feeling slightly guilty for leaving Draco alone with the Potter's.
Harry was convinced Hermione was out of her mind; he kept looking for signs but found none. She looked nervous, yes. Smoking her lungs out before their drinks had even arrived. Ginny and Draco exchanged some pleasantries while she was gone, and he gulped down water to try and make his vision less blurry and his speech steadier.
Damn George and his flask.
Hermione and the ferret exchanged looks that held so much intensity and unspoken communication it made the firewhiskey stir in his stomach; he was forced to look away.
Was his firewhiskey-induced state making him imagine it all? Because he'd never seen her look at Ron that way.
"So…," Harry said and continued to drum his fingers against the table top. It was starting to give Draco a headache. "This is ... you two-" Hermione almost felt sorry for her friend as he tried to break the silence.
"Look amazing, that dress Hermione! It's gorgeous," Ginny said, trying to save her husband from saying something he might regret. Hermione shot her a crooked smile, and complimented her back. Ginny was wearing a beautiful black one-piece with a deep v in the front and back. She looked stunning and athletic in a way anyone would envy.
"Congrats on the win Ginny, I'm sorry we're stealing you away. Is the team celebrating without you tonight? Draco asked.
Ginny batted her lashes, and told them the team had to make due without her tonight. When she asked if they'd enjoyed the game Draco shot Hermione a telling look, she knew exactly what part of the game he was thinking about.
"I did, it's been ages since I watched one. I think even Hermione enjoyed this one, didn't you, love?" He placed his hand on her thigh under the table and Hermione placed hers of his, stroking her fingertips over his smooth skin. Neither of them noticed how Harry flinched at the word love.
-o-o-o-
Ginny's eyes narrowed. Hermione hated quidditch, she wondered if Draco perhaps wasn't referencing to the game at all.
It was impossible not to notice her husband shooting strange glances at Hermione and the way he was drumming his fingers excessively against the table started to annoy her. She placed a hand over his to stop it.
Both Hermione and Draco did look amazing, and when she looked at the way Draco had done his tie she decided Harry needed to work on his Windsor knot. The way they looked at each other was almost too much. She could clearly see why they had to step away for their activities in the bathroom to relieve some of that tension on their first date. The attraction between the two was undeniable. But attraction and actual feelings were two different things, and she wanted tonight to be a testament to if Draco was as serious as she was about their relationship.
It was all in the interest of looking out for her friend. She'd seen Hermione falling off the deep end after the war, and she feared she would again if Draco's intentions weren't as pure as she thought them to be. She pondered if she should ask him straight out, but decided it would be impolite.
"How is work Draco? Still travelling the world?" The question was innocent enough. The man met her gaze and he almost looked too calm for comfort.
"Yes, work is progressing well actually, and fortunately, I'll be home for the Holidays," Draco said.
"And then?" she pressed on. Draco smoothed his tie. Ginny considered if it was a sign of nervousness. Everybody at the table seemed on edge, but she was not. After playing the game today she was exhausted, she'd downed two cups of coffee straight after, not missing how her husband seemed to have a hard time focusing his gaze. She offered him a cup too and it seemed to sober him up. He was not one to drink and she couldn't blame him when she'd been the one to force dinner.
"And then I'll be back at work. Most likely heading back to New York in January," he said and the way Hermione looked down at her hands in her lap didn't go unnoticed. Had they even discussed a long distance relationship and what that entailed? Some people might think it wasn't her business, but Ginny was the type of woman that made everything her business.
"I see," Ginny answered and gave him a stern look. It had him adjusting the tie around his neck. Definitely a sign of discomfort, she concluded. "Will you be back for Hermione's speech in front of the Wizengamot?"
"I hope too," he answered. Hermione squeezed his hand.
Ginny went on about how Hermione was aiming for the minister position and that she most likely would get it. She proceeded to ask how Draco felt about it, she knew she was pressuring him but she couldn't care less if her questions made him uncomfortable. She wondered how Malfoy would take to being the man by her side in such a public way, especially when it would tie him to her political views and decisions she'd make in office.
"I've already made my support for her ambitions clear to Hermione, nothing would make me happier than for her to reach her goals," he said and Ginny found the answer to that of a politician. He chose his words with caution, but she was still satisfied with what the answer entailed.
She continued her questioning by asking him where he stood in the question of Hermione's reform, and as soon as she asked she saw her friend shooting her a firm look that told her to stop with the interrogation. Ginny ignored it.
"I believe the laws currently in place are out-dated and in need of a reform," he said, again with the politician type of answer, not truly taking a stance to what he thought about it. Ginny honestly didn't know that much about the reform, she only knew some thought it to be radical.
Everyone fell silent again. Their drinks were finished in record time. Hermione was starting to feel the alcohol making its way into her system, leaving her more relaxed and at ease with the situation at hand. She wanted them all to get along, but so for it had been too much awkward silence and she hadn't missed Ginny's attempt to interrogate Draco on his intentions. To lighten the mood she decided she'd order them a bottle of white wine to go with their starters. Urging everyone to choose something savoury for starters because it would go well with the wine. Instructing the waiter to not bring the bottle to the table, she wanted them to guess what wine it was. She and Ginny had tried it at one of their wine tastings and she was sure Draco would know of it as well.
A tall boy, with curly black hair, who didn't seem to be more than seventeen, arrived with the wine, he looked like he was going to trip over his own legs when he saw who the people at the table were. The liquid almost escaped the glasses as he began emptying the tray one glass at a time.
He cleared his throat. "So, this is a-
"Oh, don't spoil the surprise," Draco said abruptly. The boy looked at the blonde wizard with big scared eyes when he realised his mistake.
Ginny felt terribly sorry for him, Hermione had to bite her lip from laughing and Harry didn't seem to care at all. They hadn't been drinking that much for Harry to look so dishevelled, Hermione thought.
"I- I- I'm." he stuttered and swallowed hard. Draco cocked his head to the side; waiting for the boy to continue whatever sentence he wanted to say. "Of course not, Mr Malfoy. " He nodded his head anxiously, looking like he was scared for his life. When he placed the wineglass in front of Draco his hand was shaking violently, some of the liquid spilled out onto Draco's hand as he reached for the glass.
Draco sighed and stared with disappointment at the boy who's face blossomed red. "So sorry sir," he said and Draco wanted to suggest the boy get a haircut, it must be impossible to see with those all that hair covering his eyes.
"It's fine," Ginny said and Harry reached for the two remaining glasses on the tray to help the boy out.
The boy retreated quickly when his work was done.
Hermione shoved Draco in the side with her elbow. "You shouldn't have said that," she blamed.
"The poor boy looked like he was going to cry," Ginny added.
Draco huffed. "Oh, come on, he had instructions to follow-"
"He was just nervous," Harry defended.
Draco sighed for what felt like the hundred time since dinner had started. There was no winning with these guys; all goody two-shoes Gryffindor's with their whole rising above mentality. He suddenly felt very lonely, missing the company of his Slytherin mates.
"He sure did get the short end of the stick tonight didn't he? I bet no one wanted their first night of waiting tables to be with us as guests," Hermione continued.
Finally something they could all agree on.
Ginny was the first one to try the wine, and she looked at Hermione appreciatively, more so for the fact there was alcohol at their table than for the wine itself. "Don't expect me to have any memory recollection from our wine tastings." Hermione gave her red haired friend a knowing look. By the time the wine tasting ended they'd continued drinking and Ginny had been shitfaced by the time they left.
She shook her head. "Alright. Anyone else care to venture a guess?"
Harry made a face that he thought no one saw; the wine was too sweet for his liking.
Draco swirled the wine in his glass to mix in the oxygen before tasting it. He hummed in appreciation as he swallowed. "Moscato?" She couldn't help but to be impressed.
"Correct," she said as if he'd just given the right answer to a test sheet. "It's sweet, but I like that you can really detect the-"
"The honeydew melon," he answered after another sip. This was something they had in common, she thought. They may have been brought up severely different, but this, they had this.
"I can't detect anything, just the sweetness," Harry said, a little confused, looking at the glass as if would tell him the answer.
Honeydew melon? Twats.
Both Hermione and Draco looked at Harry like he was an alien. "But the honeydew melon is very prominent in this one," Hermione told him. "I'm sure you'll taste it if you try," she continued as if he wasn't trying hard enough. Reminding Harry of the many times at Hogwarts when Hermione pressured him to do better at school even though he couldn't care less about writing his herbology paper.
Merlin he'd missed her lately.
"The pear really lingers doesn't it?" Hermione said and looked at Harry expectantly.
"Yes," Harry lied and earned an amused look from his wife.
"It certainly does. This doesn't happen to be Bartenura Moscato?" Draco asked curiously.
Hermione smiled widely. "Yes, you've had it before?"
"I think I have, blue bottle right?" Hermione wanted to kiss him then, but settled for a nod.
The way she was beaming towards the blonde prick had Harry feeling a sting of guilt. Not for lying about tasting the pear, but for being so suspicious. He'd always considered Hermione to be exactly what Ron needs, but looking at Hermione now, she looked like she'd just found what she needed. It was appalling and sweet at the same time, kind of like that damn wine.
"I see it now," he blurted. How had he not seen the resemblance before? "You're both such … snobs-" It was the firewhiskey speaking more so than Harry himself. Draco looked at him sternly but Harry had never been afraid of him, considered him a bit of a coward even.
"Excuse me?" Draco interrupted before Harry could finish his thought, and sat his glass down on the table like he was gearing up for a fight.
Hermione felt conflicted, Harry did have a way of expressing himself without thinking at times, but they were not snobs.
"I see it too," Ginny tittered. All eyes shifted to her, but she didn't seem to mind. She swallowed slowly and eyed first Hermione, then Draco, with seriousness. Taking her time before speaking.
"It's safe to say you two are not the most expected pairing" she gestured at the two of them, "but seeing you together ... It looks right." She shrugged her shoulders. "It's not so much just that you're total wine snobs, it's the way you interact," she continued the analysis no one had asked for.
Her eyes narrowed as she was watching the two of them. "Like you're on a different wave length then the rest of us commoners, I can't even understand what you talk about most of the time when you speak of your work Hermione, and I bet Draco gets it all when you do, maybe even comes with clever insights, perhaps even finds it interesting" she continued, like she was judging their very existence, pointing at the two of them with her fork as she spoke.
Draco and Hermione exchanged a look and Harry didn't like his wife describing him as a commoner.
"And you've come to this conclusion how? Because we know our wine?" Hermione said and Ginny rolled her eyes because her friend didn't even realise how much in that sentence just proved her statement. It was full of her "know-it-all qualities. "And my work is interesting," Hermione continued and straightened her back.
"Of course it is, I find you talking about the implementations of the Secrecy act in Norway just as interesting as you find it when I talk about game tactics." Ginny drawled sarcastically.
Touché, Hermione thought.
"But the way Norway has implemented the Secrecy act is substantially different to how we do it here in Britain, for example-" Draco stopped when Ginny cocked her eyebrows at him. He leaned back in his seat and comforted himself with another sip of wine.
"See!" Harry said and gestured imperiously towards the couple sitting opposite, making both Draco and Hermione roll their eyes.
"Right," Draco said and smiled slightly. Even though Ginny's analysis of him and Hermione contained questionable statements, it was perchance meant as a twisted compliment. Acceptance even. He reminded himself it was a good thing.
"Okay, so now that we've established me and Draco aren't the weirdest thing to happen in the history of time, can we stop with the analysing and the strange stares?" Hermione said and focused especially on Harry, before turning her gaze to Ginny, who waved her hand dismissively, like she hadn't just practically said they fit together because they were both stuck up prats. At least they both saw something that made sense to them. Perhaps she should just take it as a win and not overthink it.
The dinner mood seem to lighten after that, even if Harry and Draco bickered over who had most knowledge of quidditch, when Hermione and Ginny both knew Ginny was the one and neither of the two.
-o-o-o-
"Shit Mione," Ginny said in front of the mirror in the bathroom, "the way you two are gawking at each other, it's like your undressing each other with your eyes."
Hermione laughed. "Oh, we are not."
"Oh I beg to differ," Ginny quipped. "It's cute, reminds me of how Harry makes me feel."
The wine was making itself reminded and Hermione had been dying to let someone in on how she felt. "I think I'm love with him," she confessed, focusing her gaze on her hands as she put the gloss back into her clutch.
Ginny stopped fuzzing with her hair immediately, placing her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "Oh my sweet friend, of course you are. It's written all over your face."
Hermione started gushing then, all about those grey eyes, the way his arms made her feel safe, how dramatic he was and how good he was with words. Telling how he constantly surprised her, sometimes annoyed her immensely and how he accepted her for who she had become after the war. She admired the way he had stood up against his father and the prejudices he'd been thought to believe in from birth.
It felt therapeutic to finally be able to gush about him. Admitting all she was feeling to herself at the same time she spoke it out loud. "And it's all terrifying too," she finished.
Ginny's grip on her shoulders tightened. "If the looks he's giving you are anything to go by, he feels the same way about you. I never thought I'd say this about Draco Malfoy, but the two of you are adorable."
Hermione waved her hand dismissively, blushing faintly.
"I'm happy for you, the both of you. I think he could need some love in his life. Don't think his father gave him too much, you know?" She leaned against the sink and Hermione waited until the women washing their hands next to them left. Almost positive they'd been listening in.
"Suppose he hasn't," she said and redid the bow on her left shoulder with care. Feeling a sudden need to get back to the table. They had left Harry and Draco alone for quite some time now. She could only hope both would be intact when they got back.
"But do tell, what do you mean, him having a way with words?" Ginny said as they made their way through the restaurant. The smell of food filled her nostrils and, and she'd had just enough liquid courage to make her feel giddy, liberated and free of restraints.
"Oh. Let's just say he's good at the sweet talking, and the not so sweet talking," Hermione said cryptically, while giggling like a teenager. Their bedroom fun was theirs alone.
Ginny smiled big and shook her head. "I swear, you sound like you have the most amazing time fucking each other," she said dreamily. Hermione watched her with adoration, feeling happier than she thought she'd had in a long time. Like she'd been trapped in a current since the war, just now realising she had stopped fighting against it a while ago, trusting it would lead her home. Having Ginny's acceptance and the man she never knew was her dream come true had her feeling she could climb mountains.
And then there he was, his eyes met hers and she was sure she saw her future in them.
She was unreservedly done for it now, wasn't she?
Well fuck me, she thought while resuming her seat next to the wizard to blame.
-o-o-o-
Draco was at his wits end with discomfort when the women left the table. He'd never understood why they always travelled in pairs to the bathroom.
"Would you stop with the drumming, Potter?" he requested. The wine had done nothing to soothe his headache.
Harry adjusted his glasses on his nose and let his hands rest. Not happy about the twat's attitude.
He glared at him to convey it. "A real ferret might be better company," it was the firewhiskey talking again.
"Oh yeah?" Draco said and couldn't help but grip the wand in its holster.
Harry noticed. "Have at it if you want, I'm not afraid of you," he scoffed, crossing his arms.
Draco rolled his eyes and Harry thought it to be the most annoying thing in the world.
"I'm not going to duel you in a restaurant, I'm not ten," Draco retorted. Harry clenched his jaw. "Look. You and I? We'll never be friends, I'm doing this for her, so just get off it."
As if he wasn't too doing this for Hermione?
"There was a time you wanted to be my friend," Harry mocked and tilted his head to the side. Yup. Firewhiskey talking again.
I should shut up, shouldn't I? Harry thought to himself.
Draco was staring daggers at him now and Harry felt laughter was about to bubble out of him. He'd out duel the twat faster than Malfoy could get the stick out of his arse.
"I get that you want to be loyal to your Weasel friend, and I bet it stings that your other friend chose me. But fact is she did. Get over it already," Draco drawled, as if it's been going on for ages and Harry hadn't found out about it only a few weeks ago.
"His name is Ron," Harry corrected because he had no other retort.
"To-may-to, To-mah-to," Draco said to declare unimportant differences.
Harry sipped his wine even though he needed no more alcohol. "You care about her then?"
"I do."
"Why?" Harry questioned, looking at Draco through thin slits.
"Because she's amazing, has the most brilliant mind." and she's gorgeous, funny without even knowing, and stubborn as hell. Not to mention her bedroom kinks.
"She's had that brain of hers for years you know, you've never seemed to notice that before," Harry interrupted, not allowing himself to dwell on the fact he had described he liked her intellect rather than her looks.
"I suppose she has," Draco said honestly, not wanting to get into his and Hermione's past. "But she is changed from the war and so am I, and her so called friends, weren't really there for her when she had a hard time, were they?"
Harry's cheeks turned pink. He crossed his arms defensively.
"We tried. She was being obstinate about it all and-"
"You didn't understand what she was going through because neither of you cared enough to try," Draco interfered, feeling good about calling him out on the bullshit. He spoke calmly, even though there was anger erupting in his chest, his magic crackling at his fingertips.
Harry was furious now, who has he to guilt trip him? He never did understand her behaviour after the war. When everyone was moving on she wasn't. The ferret was right, but he wasn't about to admit that.
"And you did? Were you there for her after the war?" he asked with mock defence, thinking he knew the answer. The perplexed look on Draco's face said otherwise.
"In some ways." Fucking her senseless wasn't' exactly being there for her. "To think you drove her right into my arms," he said, more to himself than to Harry.
Harry snorted. "What does that even mean? You've been in contact straight after the war?" He felt clueless now. Before Ron and Hermione got together again then? How had he not known about this?
Because he had been more concerned with moving on with Ginny than caring about his friend. The guilt was overwhelming and he was sure it was showing on his face.
"Yes and no."
Harry didn't like that Malfoy spoke in riddles. Reminded him too much of how Dumbledore used to speak. Not that the git was comparable to Dumbledore in any stretch of the imagination.
"What do you mean yes and no?" He demanded clarification.
"Oh, I don't kiss and tell," Draco drawled and clasped his hands together, sealing in their secrets.
The look on his face was that of superior smugness, he thought he knew what that meant. Perhaps it had been about sex, shagging, doing the dirty? Was the twat and his bedroom abilities the reason for Hermione leaving Ron?
Nope. No way in hell he was going there.
-o-o-o-
He could breathe again. Now that she was in his line of sight the torture of being alone with scarhead almost felt worth it. He could see it in her steps, and the smile on her glossy lips as she laughed at something Ginny said. She was happy, it was radiating all around her. His eyes darted to her exposed collarbone, her shoulders. He could envision it clearly, just a small tug at the satin ribbons on each shoulder and the dress would pool at her ankles.
Head out of the gutter, head out of the gutter, he disciplined himself, trying to discourage the blood rushing to his neither regions. Their eyes met and he wondered what she saw in his. Hers glittered, like they reflected the sparkle of fireworks. The smile forming on his lips was one he reserved only for her.
He knew then, he'd endure thousands of dinners just like this one if it meant she'd look like that.
-o-o-o-
When they'd said goodbye, Ginny and Harry walked for a while before disapparating home. Appreciating the fresh, cold air, and the distant sound of Christmas carollers blessing their ears.
Ginny talked about how she thought the dinner had meant a lot to Hermione, and that she could tell they were both smitten. She thought it to be cute and was hoping they wouldn't face too much trouble when the news leaked to everyone else in the papers. They must've been captured in photographs today, with all the journalists swarming around like bothersome bees. She also told him Hermione was planning on talking to Malfoy about how they'd make it work with long-distance, since he travels so much for work, and that she'd been invited to the Malfoy's for Christmas.
"When did you talk about all this?" Harry asked curiously. He hadn't been that far gone in the firewhiskey had he?
"In the bathroom," Ginny said and took the hand he reached out. Interlocking her fingers with his.
What, so they just talk while they pee?
She noticed the confusion on his face. "Oh, you men are missing out on so many things, you'll never know the joy of getting a compliment on your outfit in the loo," she said pointedly.
Harry shook his head and scoffed. His wife eyed him seriously now. "It's because of our patriarchal society really, such a shame the society has decided men can't do that. You can still you know. Break the barrier." Harry got the feeling she was no longer talking to him as much as at him, giving him a lesson of sorts.
Ah yes, the patriarchal society was the reason for him and twat-head not strutting off to the bathroom together, whipping out their… wands, and chit-chatting their hearts away.
"Yes, your right, I should be breaking the barrier and ask Malfoy to join me in the bathroom next time we have dinner," he said sarcastically, making himself ill as he said it.
Ginny laughed and it made his heart stutter. Her laugh could brighten the darkest of days.
"I've always found your sass lovely," she said and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "It's why I married you."
"I bet it is, honey." He squeezed her hand.
He wasn't being sassy, was he?
-o-o-o-
Please review if you like the chapter of have any thoughts. Did you like the way the characters are described? Anything you cared less for? Don't hesitate to let me know!