Chapter 4
Having spent the first three hours of her shift working hard on a supposed denial of werewolf rights in Hertfordshire, Hermione was stumped. She had been so sure she had the hang of the computer system, yet here she was, desperately trying to locate the complaint made which had been the start of this whole case in the first place.
Well, Hermione thought to herself, Draco had offered to help me if ever I needed it, so I suppose I ought to pop in and see him. She looked at the time and realised it was coming up to her lunch break. She could drop by before heading out for a bite to eat. She stood up from her desk and suddenly wondered if she looked presentable. She hadn't seen herself since she had made a brief assessment that morning in the kitchen. She hadn't even taken the time to brush her teeth, opting instead for a quick cleansing spell on the way out. Something she would usually call revolting, insisting if her breath wasn't minty fresh then she didn't feel right, but she just had to get out of that house.
Taking a quick glance around her office she noticed there were no mirrors. Of course there weren't, Hermione doesn't generally care about her looks. Especially not at work.
On her way down to the lab, Hermione thought back to her impromptu breakfast with Luna and Rolf. They had been so kind and considerate. They hadn't bombarded her with questions about the incident, in fact they had barely asked about it. Letting her set the pace of the conversation.
"Luckily, I remember most people, but sometimes I need to reintroduce myself. Like at work, I met Draco Malfoy." Hermione had explained. "Turns out I'd known him since school." Luna had looked at her in a way she does sometimes which Hermione had never been able to figure out.
"Have you forgotten any of your other friends?" Luna had asked.
Hermione hadn't remarked on the use of that word. Friend. She didn't know what to say about it. Why would Luna assume herself and Draco were friends? If they were friends, why was he so off with her?
The lift pinged and the doors opened out on to the Tech. department. It consisted of a long white corridor with white walls. No decoration, no names on doors, so Hermione had to peak in rooms as she went. She only had to go past three doors before she found their room.
There he was, leaning over a sheet of clear material with his wand hovering carefully over it, pure concentration sketched over his porcelain features. Theo was observing with an equal attentiveness over Draco's shoulder, clipboard in hand. She had planned on waiting for them to finish before interrupting them, but a burst of pink flames came firing out of Draco's wand without so much as a murmur of an incantation, making Hermione gasp in surprise.
Both heads shot up to look at her and, in that moment, the flames travelled off the mysterious sheet and onto some nearby paperwork. Draco jumped back, barely avoiding a burn to the face, and tripped over a stool, falling hard on the tiled floor, staring at the spreading flames with horror.
Hermione, who often liked to think she was a good person to have in an emergency, realised that if this moment was anything to go by, she absolutely was not. She should have done something. Could have done anything. But instead, she just watched the chaos.
Luckily, Theo leapt into action. Stepping back and pulling his wand out of his lab coat, he conjured a freezing mist over the desk immediately extinguishing the vibrant fire. "Well… I know who to come to next time I need an impression of a deer in headlights." He looked disapprovingly between the two of them.
"I tripped." Draco grumbled, staggering back to his feet and rubbing his butt cheek. Hermione couldn't help it. Something about the grumpiness of his face, like a child having a strop, was absolutely hilarious. She burst out with laughter, earning herself an annoyed look from Draco and a smirk from Theo. "Sorry," she said, "that was quite funny though."
Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably and started clearing away the ashen papers. "How can we help you, Mrs. Granger?"
"I swear to Merlin, if you call me Mrs. Granger—" Hermione made dramatic air quotes with her fingers, "—one more time, I will burst. It's Hermione."
Draco looked at her uncertainly for a second, the professional mask he wears falling ever so slightly. "Okay, Hermione. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
Hermione smiled and walked into the lab, perching on the edge of a stool. "Well, Draco, I seem to have forgotten how to find complaints on the system."
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After a good few minutes of Draco explaining possible locations of the file, with Theo adding in the occasional expletive about "idiots with a keyboard", Hermione felt like she had a much better chance of tracking it down.
"If more people actually came and asked when they were struggling with the fucking system, we could be more help to you. People just save files wherever they bloody please and then complain that the system isn't efficient!" Theo was ranting, waving his arms around dramatically. "It's like… do you have a brain?" He looked over to a clearly blasé Draco for back up.
"He gets a bit irate when he's hungry." Draco turned to Hermione with an apologetic expression. His silver eyes were genuine and full of amusement, his mask removed. There is something about those eyes, Hermione thought, that makes my stomach flutter. Theo cleared his throat, smirking at her with a raised eyebrow. She must have been staring at the blonde a second too long.
"Yes well," Hermione jumped off her stool, praying she wasn't blushing, "speaking of hungry, I had better go get some lunch."
"We've ordered Chinese if you want to join us?" Theo offered, now smiling mischievously.
"Oh no, I wouldn't want to impose."
"No imposition."
"Oh, but I haven't got my purse on me."
"Don't worry, I'm paying."
"But I don't want you having less food because of me."
"We always order extra!"
There was a pause as Hermione ran out of excuses. Theo was grinning, knowing he had won. He threw an insistent look at Draco, who let out a huff of laughter and turned back to Hermione. "We would love for you to join us."
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Conversation flowed easily between them as they waited for lunch to arrive. Theo, as it turned out, was not only good company but also extremely funny, with an endless amount of anecdotes from their years of friendship. A particular story about a drunken Draco getting punched in the face by an angry bar maid had Hermione laughing until she cried. "Merlin, my cheeks hurt!" She exclaimed.
"Well, if you like that story, you should ask Draco about the time YOU decked him!"
Hermione gasped. "I didn't!" She looked to Draco for a denial but he was smiling. "You did, actually." he admitted, "Fucking hurt as well, you've got a mean right hook."
"I am so sorry." Hermione hid her mortified face behind her hands.
"Trust me, he deserved it." Theo assured her, leaning over the desk dramatically to pat her shoulder.
"You weren't even there!" Draco argued.
"Didn't need to be, you were a dick head in school."
"Thanks!" The blonde wizard laughed, a real genuine chuckle. It was a lovely sound.
A small device hovering over the counter, identical to the one at Kingsley's front desk, blinked blue and a loud, irritated voice bellowed out of it.
"THEO, IF YOU DON'T STOP GETTING TAKEAWAYS DELIVERED TO MY BLOODY DESK I'M GOING TO HEX YOU!"
Theo jumped up, ran over to the device and placed his wand on it, making it turn blue. "Thanks sweetie!" he spoke into the glowing orb. "She loves me really." He winked at Hermione before running off to collect the Chinese food.
"Was that Theo's girlfriend?" Hermione asked politely.
"He wishes!" Draco chortled "That's Doris up in the atrium."
A silence hung momentarily between them. It wasn't awkward really, just a moment of quiet. Hermione looked at her fingernails, just to stop herself staring at the beautiful man beside her.
"I spoke to Harry about you." Hermione tried to sound casual, but really her heart had sped up. When he didn't immediately reply she glanced up at him. He was looking at her. His mask was back up. "He told me about the… history between us. About the war." She continued.
"Did he?" Draco leaned forward on to the desk, feigning a casual attitude to the subject, but his eyes gave him away. He was nervous. "What did he say?"
"He said you were an arse hole." Hermione dead panned. There was a couple of seconds where she thought she might have offended him, before he started laughing. "Which according to Theo is very true!"
"It is true…" Draco said, his laughter easing off. "But what do you think?"
"Well… I don't think I know you yet." Hermione watched him for a second, the way his eyes flickered across her features. The slight crease between his brows, the only sign that he was bothered by what her answer would be.
"But I would like to."
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"This is the best Chinese food I've ever had." Hermione said, laying folded over the desk with her blazer as a makeshift pillow. She had eaten so much she had become lethargic. "At least, I think it is." She jokingly grimaced at herself.
"So your memory really is fucked up, huh?" Theo asked, receiving a swift jab from Draco's elbow. "What?! I'm just asking!"
"It's fine." Hermione insisted, offering Draco a grateful smile nonetheless. "But yes, Theo. It's thoroughly fucked up." Theo laughed, while Draco still threw daggers at him. "I'm remembering some things though, which is good." Hermione explained.
"Like what?" asked Theo, grabbing the last spring roll before his friend could reach it and shoving it in his mouth.
"Nothing important." Hermione answered. The memory of the kitchen table hummed in the back of her mind. "Just… hobbies and things. I might never remember everything."
"Well, we'll keep our fingers crossed." Theo spoke through the food churning in his mouth, a piece of onion flying out and landing on the table.
"You are disgusting…" Muttered Draco, screwing up his face. Pastry fell down Theo's chin as he offered Draco a shit eating grin.
"Thanks…" Hermione laughed and stood up, regretting that last piece of sesame chicken. "And thank you for lunch."
"You're always welcome here." Draco offered, awkwardly shuffling in his seat. Hermione smiled. "I appreciate that." She replied. "Next time, I'll pay. See you soon."
Hermione made it halfway up the corridor before she heard her name being shouted behind her.
"Hermione!" Draco chased after her. "You forgot your blazer." He held it out to her, standing maybe a step closer than was necessary. Hermione inhaled sharply. "Thank you." She breathed.
"Are you coming to the ball tomorrow evening?"
"I, um… I didn't realise there was one."
"Oh… yes. A fundraising ball. Um, everyone is invited. It would be nice to see you there."
Why on earth had Ronald not told her about this ball? He says he is desperate to get me back, Hermione reasoned, yet he doesn't tell me about a work do? Surely a grovelling man would jump at the opportunity to attend together.
"Well, if everyone is invited… sure. Why not?"
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The lift hummed quietly as Hermione made her way back up to her office. She wondered if this would become a regular journey for her, coming back from lunch with Draco. The idea made her smile.
The lift slowed to a halt and the doors opened to reveal Ronald and Ella chatting politely. Ronald noticed Hermione first, a look of confusion and a small head tilt. He opened his mouth but was interrupted by Ella.
"Hermione!" the bubbly witch exclaimed, stepping into the confined space and wrapping her arms tightly around her. "How are you today?"
"I'm fine thanks," Hermione watched Ronald from the corner of her eye as he skulked in staring at her. "Bit full up though." She patted her full belly. "I have exactly zero self-control when it comes to chow mein."
Ella laughed. She had a lovely laugh, it was almost melodic. "I have to admit, I have a weakness for that too! And egg fried rice. I could murder an egg fried rice right now. What about you Ron?"
Ron snapped out of intense glaring with obvious surprise. "Oh, um… same." He said, smiling unconvincingly. The doors opened just in time to save Ella from the awkwardness of Hermione and Ronald forced to stand in a lift together after their last conversation. She waved her goodbyes and, as soon as the doors close, Ronald swung around to glare at Hermione again.
"Where have you been?" he questioned bluntly.
"For lunch." Hermione answered stubbornly. "What about you?"
"Oh come off it, I was looking for work files! Nothing suspicious about that. YOU on the other hand…"
"Me? What the hell have I done?"
"…acting shifty and since when did you know Ella?"
"Since before I forgot her, what is your problem?!"
"You're keeping things from me!" Ronald was now leaning down and was face to face with Hermione, who had her face as high as it could go to match his hostility.
"I'M keeping things from YOU?" Hermione laughed. "When were you going to tell me about the fundraising ball?"
Ron stood up straight immediately with undeniable surprise and guilt in his eyes.
"Why on earth wouldn't you tell me about that?" Hermione asked but was met with silence. "You didn't want me to come?"
Finally, they arrived at her floor. Realising she wasn't going to get an answer, Hermione stepped out of the lift. If there had been any doubt left as to whether her marriage was over, that conversation, along with his complete lack of an excuse, quashed them. Hermione was done.
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That evening, Hermione didn't want to go home. She had told Ronald that they would talk later, but after learning about the fundraiser, she couldn't bring herself to. What help would another conversation be? It wouldn't even be a conversation, it would be another yelling match. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results, so it was time for one of them to break the cycle.
Hermione had left work early to avoid him. She had packed a bag, wrote Ronald a note, and left. She admittedly shed some tears in the process, but there was no hesitation. Not even for a moment. Yet another thing in her life that had ended in tears. It hurt, but it was right.
And so, here she sat on the smooth silk bed sheets of a fancy hotel room that she would never even think of spending so much money on before but which she reasoned she deserved. Because how many years had she wasted living carefully, tiptoeing through life, playing it safe. And where had it got her? In a miserable marriage to an aggressive narcissist who would rather drink himself into a coma than face his own issues. A man who would rather blame her for everything than take accountability, who would rather go to a party without her.
No. Not anymore. Time to take things into her own hands.