Hindsight

by floorcoaster

It's a New Year and Hermione decides it's time for some changes.

6. June

Disclaimer: Writing for fun, I don't own these character, etc., etc.

ooo

Thursday, JUNE 1

Perhaps the most important thing on Hermione's schedule in June was what she hoped would be the first in a series of meetings about the pixie's forest. She'd worked through May to prepare an argument and secure an audience with her own superiors wherein she could present her findings, make her points, and provide alternatives to the impending ruin of the protected pixie forest. She felt reasonably confident that logic would prevail, though the Ministry's track record kept her up at night if she thought about it too much.

Her meeting with her boss was slated for the following day, and she truly felt prepared. She smiled at the note in her planner for June 2. Then, as she glanced at the whole month of June, she froze. Draco's birthday was in four days. Four! She rarely ever looked ahead in her planner beyond making sure she didn't double-book herself, since she was trying hard to live in the present, so such an early birthday snuck up on her. Absently, she wondered when Marcus' birthday was; she'd have to ask the next time she saw him.

Hermione's thoughts were arrested thinking about Draco's birthday. She hadn't heard of any plans to celebrate, and she hadn't bought him a gift. Should she ask him? Should she get him something? She thought about the macarons from that patisserie in Paris, but it simply wasn't possible that Draco Malfoy, whose parents owned a townhouse on the Champs-Élysées, had never tasted the delicacy. Still, he would certainly appreciate it. She jotted a quick note in her planner to order a box for him.

Briefly, she wondered what he was planning to do for his birthday. She hadn't heard a word about it, from him or Harry or Pansy or anybody. But before she could think about that, she needed to go over her notes one last time before her meeting the following morning.

Her tea kettle whistled, and she prepared herself a cup, grabbed a scone, and settled into her favorite armchair—the one Ron called a large, shaggy sloth. She didn't care; it was the most comfortable furniture ever made, by wizard or Muggle, and no one could convince her otherwise.

The meeting should be fairly straightforward. The Quidditch Association of England had officially put in their request with the Ministry to purchase the forest. There was some vague wording about 'considerations for the current occupants,' which, upon further investigation, she believed merely existed in order to check all the boxes so they could say they'd done everything in their power. In reality, she didn't expect much, if anything, would be done for the pixies, to say nothing of the non-magical creatures who lived there.

In theory, all Hermione had to do was show the original contract between the Ministry and the pixies. That should be enough to put a stop to the sale. However, she had a feeling it wouldn't be that simple, so she'd done what she always did: she researched.

She'd spent much of her free time in May deep in the stacks, researching everything from Pixie-Wizarding relationships throughout history, to pixie habitats, to geological surveys of the forests of England—and everything in between. She'd built an argument for why the pixies needed this particular forest. She'd outlined the dangers the community would face if forced out of their home, from predators to finding an adequate food source. She'd shown why selling the land would put an enormous strain on relations with the pixies and why that was undesirable. She'd even gone so far as to suggest four other locations where a new Quidditch Pitch might be built.

Once her research was completed, she'd written a twelve-foot long proposal, complete with three additional pages of charts, graphs, statistics, and a timeline, plus four pages of references. Then, she'd shown it to Harry and Narcissa, whom she trusted implicitly, and they'd both given her excellent feedback. After another round of research and edits, the essay was fourteen feet long, with an additional two pages of data. She would have shown it to Draco, but he'd been extremely difficult to get in touch with, and she hadn't wanted to bother him when he was apparently quite busy. Briefly, she'd thought of Marcus, but something held her back. He still wasn't terribly interested in her work, and though he'd asked about her conference, he'd quickly moved the conversation to other topics.

After reading through it again and going over her planned talking points, Hermione was as prepared as she could possibly be. As if on cue, she yawned, chuckled to herself, and went to bed.

ooo

Friday, JUNE 2

Hermione let her tray drop, clanging loudly against the table, then sat in a grumpy huff.

"That bad?" Harry's expression was one of concern. He stopped what he was doing and gave her his full attention.

She scowled and started preparing her cup of tea, her thoughts whirring in frustration. When it was ready, she blew on the surface of the hot liquid, then took a sip. Harry waited patiently, and she felt tears prick her eyes at what a good friend he was.

With a sigh, she took one more sip and set her cup down, ready, she hoped, to talk. "Worse. He barely listened. Everything I said, he had some excuse. Every argument I made, he had something to counter it. But nothing made sense, Harry. He sounded like he was just reading off a list of counter-points handed down from somewhere. I knew as soon as I walked in that it wouldn't go well."

"So he won't support you?" Harry frowned. "You need his support to take the matter higher, don't you?"

Hermione felt her anger rise in waves. "Oh, he approved my request—after he argued and belittled and dismissed everything I had to say. I think the only reason—the only reason, Harry—is because of who I am. Possibly also because he knew if he didn't, I'd go over his head, and that would look very bad if the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures vetoed an effort to save a protected creature sanctuary. But I have a feeling it was the one free pass I'm going to get in all of this."

"I'm so sorry, Hermione." Slowly, Harry resumed eating, chewing thoughtfully. "Now, don't get upset with me for this question, but have you talked to Narcissa about this?"

She was surprised by his question. "Narcissa? Oh, she knows all about it. I told her about the situation when I saw her for her birthday, and then later she let me use the Malfoy library. I even let her read my proposal, and her questions and suggestions helped a lot. Why?"

"The Malfoys just have a lot of pull these days." He shrugged. "Maybe she could help in another, more strategic way. Speak to some people on your behalf."

Hermione bristled. "Harry Potter, I'm astonished at you. I have no intention of asking Narcissa to do such a thing! I would never want to leverage my relationship with her to get something out of it. That's a very Slytherin thing to say."

"I was nearly Sorted there." Harry grinned. "But I don't mean you'd try to manipulate her. Not at all. Just… tell her what happened today and see what she says. She might offer a different kind of assistance. As much as we don't like it, there are certain things that move projects like this along faster. I'm just saying."

"I will certainly tell her about my meeting, but I'm not going to ask her to help me influence people. That's really not the way I want to go about this. Then if she did offer, I wouldn't feel right accepting. I want people to do this because it is right. I want to go about this through all of the proper channels. I mean, honestly, Harry! This is the most straight-forward case I've ever seen. That section of forest was given to the pixies over a hundred years ago, negotiated through a contract between the Ministry and their Queen. We have no right to attempt to take it from them, by force or any other means. Surely this effort won't gain any momentum, but just in case it does, I intend to get out in front of it." She paused for breath, her heart racing. "It's very clear. The law is on the side of the pixies."

Harry sighed and pushed his tray away. "As much as I hate to say this, and as much as I think you're right, I'm afraid it won't be that simple."

Hermione scowled. "Not if my meeting today was any indication." She closed her eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths. "But enough about my day. How are you?"

He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "It's been a nightmare without Draco. He's been here all week, but it's his first full week of work in over a month! And he was displeased with the state of our reports, even though I'd told him, repeatedly, that he wouldn't be happy with them when he came back. I mean he's been in and out, but mostly out, and we've done our field work when he's been here, which left me to the reports, and…" Harry sighed. "I'm definitely not as good with those as he is."

"He's still missing a lot of work?"

"May was a mess. He leaves tomorrow for a long trip, but then once he's back, I believe that's his last one."

"Any idea what he's doing yet?" Hermione tried not to sound too interested. "I remember last month you weren't sure."

Harry shook his head, still chewing a bite of roll. "No clue. He's being very mysterious about it all. I'm completely perplexed, to tell the truth. Ginny showed me pictures of him with some woman in Iran one week? And then the next, with another woman in China? Honestly, I thought you might know. He won't say a word about it; believe me, I've asked."

Hermione remembered the Iranian woman, and she'd heard gossip about Draco in China, India, and Japan. There were some pictures, apparently, of him in China, and the headlines were similar to those from his trip to Iran. He was with a woman, and the articles buzzed about his dating life.

"How can he say nothing? You've asked him about it, surely?" She thought back to the conversation she'd overheard between Draco and his mother in February, about how he liked to stay out of the papers, so his sudden appearance in the news, in the gossip magazines, no less, was surprising.

"Point blank," Harry said with a vigorous nod. "He simply rolls his eyes and tells me to sod off. He can be one of the most infuriating people I know sometimes."

"I do know what you mean." Hermione frowned as she chewed on a piece of carrot. Even though she wanted to ask more about Draco, she really felt that she ought not to, since she didn't want to give Harry any cause for questioning her motives. It was natural for them to occasionally discuss their mutual friend, but an excess of questions would trigger suspicion in Harry's Auror-trained mind.

She steered the conversation in a new direction and before they knew it, the lunch-hour was over.

ooo

Monday, JUNE 5

Dear Draco,

Remember that conversation we had during my conference last month via the journal you gave your mother? I was sitting in a patisserie with a certain treat. I doubt you remember; it was just a passing comment. But after eating through half the box while waiting for you to reply, I decided you had to try them. Then I realized you probably had, but maybe not these particular flavors. I searched high and low throughout France to put together a box of macarons in flavors I'm nearly certain you've never even heard of. I look forward to hearing if I'm wrong.

I'm also sending along a book. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

Happy Birthday.

I hope you're doing something fantastic today.

Hermione

ooo

Wednesday, JUNE 7

Hermione,

I have never heard of Mint Julep, Chocolate Gravy, or Maple Sugar, so congratulations on completely surprising me. The other three were combinations I never would have thought to put together. All in all, it was quite a surprise, and I couldn't help but think of you as I ate each one.

The book looks… interesting. What kind of creature is that on the front? It looks like a skeleton, but it's unlike anything I've ever seen. Is it a magical creature? I'm curious what this 'Jurassic Park' is all about. I'm sure by the time I see you again, I'll have at least started it. Thank you very much.

I was in meetings most of the day, which is the opposite of fantastic, though some acquaintances here treated me to a nice dinner. Something called a hot dog. I also had my first—and I certainly hope not my last—deep-fried Oreo. Have you heard of them? I shall have to instruct the elves at the Manor to recreate them. You simply must try one.

Thank you for the birthday wishes. I think my mother is planning dinner for me when I return home.

Sincerely,

Draco

ooo

Friday, JUNE 9

It was a typical Friday in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, full of frantic co-workers desperate to finish assignments they'd had the entire week to finish. Hermione usually didn't have frantic Fridays, as she generally didn't slack off during the week. This week, however, she not only had her Ministry work, but she'd also been doing research on the Pixie Project, as she'd deemed it in her head. So while her work was complete, she still felt a little frazzled.

What little there was to be found in the Ministry Archives didn't help much. She'd located the contract, or treaty, signed between the Ministry and the pixies, but she had thus far been unsuccessful at finding anything in writing wherein the Ministry acknowledged the pixie's right to self-government and autonomy. It was disappointing but not surprising.

She needed more resources before she could hope to compile something compelling enough for the Department Head to not just listen to her argument, but agree with her. Part of her secretly thought nobody ever would, but she pushed that thought down else she might drown in the impossibility. She had to believe in a world where good wins and people truly care.

Since the Ministry library was so grossly inadequate, Hermione had sent a letter to Minerva asking for permission to visit the Hogwarts library. Minerva had gladly granted it, and Hermione planned to spend the following day at Hogwarts. There was still one other place where she knew she'd find information, but for some reason, she was unsure if she should ask.

It was silly, she knew. Never before had she hesitated to contact Narcissa if she thought the other woman could help, and Narcissa was always pleased to give Hermione whatever she needed. But now, with her untimely attraction to Draco and after her last conversation with Harry, she felt self-conscious, sure that his mother could read her thoughts or sense the change in her.

Which was ridiculous. Before she could talk herself out of it, Hermione penned a quick note to Narcissa and sent it. She immediately felt better, ready for lunch with Harry, though it would have to be a short one. She had a meeting that afternoon to prepare for, and she hadn't spent any time that morning doing so. She was just packing up some things from the morning when there was a knock at her door.

"Come in." She grabbed her wand and ID and looked up to see Marcus in the doorway, smiling at her. "Oh! Marcus! I wasn't expecting you."

"Surprise?" He crossed his arms. "Looks like you're going somewhere."

"I always have lunch with Harry on Fridays. Well, whenever possible, but it's a standing date. Why, did you need something?" She wrapped a light jumper around her; the cafeteria was always cold.

His smile wavered for a moment. "I was hoping to ask you to have lunch with me."

"Why didn't you owl?" Stopping by someone's office ten minutes before noon and hoping to catch them for lunch wasn't a recipe for success.

Marcus shrugged, a look of something like doubt flickering in his features. "It was a last minute idea."

Her first thought was to tell him sorry, she couldn't, but really, he wasn't asking much of her. She could skip a lunch with Harry every now and then, he wouldn't mind. She smiled at Marcus. "Sure. Let me let Harry know." Returning to her desk, she wrote out another quick note and sent it on its way. With a smile for Marcus, she said, "There. But it's got to be short, at the cafeteria. I've a meeting in ninety minutes that I'm not ready for."

"It's better than nothing." Marcus chuckled and led her through her Department and out into the Ministry at large.

They stood in line and made small talk while they selected their food. Hermione found them a table near the exit, so she'd be close when it was time to leave. "I never see you in here," she remarked, preparing her cup of tea.

"I never eat here." He smiled. "My cook at home usually prepares something for me to bring."

"You've a cook?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Not a house-elf, if that's what you're thinking," he hurriedly added. "I rather prefer the variety and ingenuity of a human for the task. But I'm a bit spoiled in that regard."

"I'm guessing this will taste like rubbish, then." Hermione glanced with dismay at what sat on his tray.

Marcus laughed. "It's fine, really. I don't mind."

The look he gave her was genuine, and it struck her that he truly was fine eating Ministry cafeteria food if it meant having lunch with her. Hermione took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. She still wasn't sure why she wasn't able to fully be herself with Marcus yet. Would she ever feel comfortable enough to show him her truest self? And if she did, would he still be interested? It was part of what made dating so daunting. She'd learned soon after the war that a lot of men wanted her to act a certain way around them, so they didn't feel intimidated or small, and it had put her off dating entirely for a while.

He startled her from her thoughts when he put his hand on hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Really, Hermione. Though I would like the chance to get to take you somewhere really nice."

She smiled, forcing herself to relax, be fully present, as was her year's mission, and enjoy the brief time with him. "I'd like that."

ooo

Sunday, JUNE 11

"Thank you so much for making time for me today."

Narcissa smiled benevolently. "Of course, dear. My home is always open to you. I had the house-elves pull everything they could find on pixies. I know they found books on their self-governance rights in The United Kingdom, their dietary needs, where they live, and their social norms and customs. I'm sure there are others, too."

Hermione knew the way to the Malfoy library, but she was thankful to have Narcissa with her. Even though the room where she'd been tortured by Bellatrix had been completely destroyed and sealed, she still knew the stretch of wall that covered the remains of the place where she'd lived through the worst hour of her life.

The library was easily her favorite room in the Manor. It was far bigger than it looked, and it contained books dating back to before William the Conqueror landed on England's shores. There were rows and rows of books, but also a very cozy sitting area arranged before a large fireplace. As soon as Narcissa opened the door, the fireplace roared to life, casting warm light on an antique Venetian settee that Draco had once told her was over two hundred years old. It was extremely comfortable, which she knew wasn't exactly consistent with the time period, but she had spent many hours on the settee, reading books or talking with Draco or Narcissa about all manner of topics. The pale green velvet upholstery was softer than it looked, and the wooden frame was carved with exquisite detail.

On either side of the sofa were two brown leather armchairs, but she never bothered with them. A coffee table completed the sitting area.

Near the front of the room, just inside the door, was a large table on which were stacked a few piles of books. Narcissa directed her to the table and motioned toward the books. "Anything you need, please don't hesitate to call for me. I've instructed Pippi to serve you in any way she can. Please join me for any meal you're here for. Brunch will be at eleven, tea at three, and dinner at seven."

"Thank you so much. I'm sure my stomach will force me out of this room at some point." Hermione set her bag down on the table and looked longingly at the settee. She'd find herself over there before too long, she knew, but until then, she was stuck with the heavy wooden chairs at the table.

"Don't make me send an elf after you." Narcissa peered down her nose at Hermione but her eyes were sparkling.

Hermione laughed. "I know you will."

When she was alone, Hermione sighed, breathing in the smell of the place. She hadn't been in the Malfoy library in a while, but she already felt at home. Draco had insisted on removing or covering any portraits of family members who might loudly and rudely disparage her blood status, so it was the room in the Manor where she felt most comfortable by herself. Not that she was anywhere in the Manor alone very often.

With a flick of her wand, she laid all the books out on the table, then picked one she thought was promising: Pixie Homelands. She put a spell on the other books to magically mark each instance of the word pixie while she took the Homelands book to the settee and hunkered down to read.

True to her word, Narcissa sent someone to fetch her for tea—she'd worked right through brunch, dismissing her rumbling stomach. When the door opened, Hermione was lounging on the settee, a stack of books on the floor beside her, a quill in her mouth and one in her hair, and a scrap of parchment at hand to jot notes. She looked up, expecting a house-elf or even possibly Narcissa, but was stunned to see Draco in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Her heart leapt into her throat. Now that she had feelings for him, or could see them for what they were, she was affected very differently than she had been before. She was now suddenly very self-conscious about everything: her hair, which she knew had to be sticking in a hundred directions, the spots of ink on her hands and most likely her face, the extremely comfortable trousers and baggy t-shirt she'd Transfigured her clothes into.

"Um, hi?"

Draco shook his head, a bemused smirk on his face. "Mother sent me to force you to join us for tea."

Hermione blanched. "I can't go have tea with you both looking like this!" She sat up and scraps of parchment, all containing notes from her reading, fluttered down onto the floor.

"I'm to bring you no matter what objections you might raise." He glanced at the stack of books by the settee, and the dozens spread out on the table. "What are you working on?"

"Do you remember when I mentioned the Quidditch Pitch the League wants to build? By tearing down the forest where a huge community of pixies live?" Just reading about pixie communities had made her blood boil at the callousness of the Quidditch League.

He nodded thoughtfully. "Of course. Harry said your meeting earlier this month didn't go well."

"That's an understatement. Now that I know what I'm up against, I've got to bring my best. My boss only let me move forward because of the optics of the thing. It's an uphill battle, but I've been in a few of those in my life." She jutted out her chin, but the action caused a strand of hair to fall in front of her eyes. She tried to blow it out of the way, but it kept falling back.

Draco shook his head and fully entered the room, crossing to the settee in a few long strides. Before she could wonder what he was doing, he'd pulled her to her feet and tucked the strand behind her ear. He smirked, then backed away. Merlin. He hadn't been that close to her since her realization in April, and she was barely breathing. That wasn't a good sign.

"I'll wait in the hall. As much as my mother likes you, she might faint right out of her chair if you come to tea in what you're wearing."

She tried to swat him with the book in her hand, but he jumped back immediately, as though he knew what she would do. "Prat!"

He grinned and left, closing the door behind him.

Hermione quickly altered her clothing, tried to do something with her hair, and joined him in the hall. He still looked highly amused, and she wanted to wipe the smirk off his face.

They started down the hall, but after only a few steps, he grabbed her arm to stop her. "Hold on. You've got ink… just there…" He raised an eyebrow and hesitantly, gently, swiped at her forehead with his thumb.

She held her breath as she watched him, so close again, her heart hammering in her chest. Then he laughed, his eyes on her forehead. Hermione scowled. "Is it that bad?"

"I just smeared it. Sorry. Might want to stop at the loo on the way and take care of it yourself."

"Thanks ever so much." She nudged him with her shoulder after they resumed walking. There was a bathroom at the end of the hall, so Hermione popped in, rolled her eyes at the giant smear of black ink on her head, and Vanished it.

"I'm a good bit into that book you gave me," he said when she'd rejoined him.

She glanced at him. "Oh? Are you enjoying reading about Muggles bringing dinosaurs back to life?"

He gave her a bemused look. "I'm enjoying reading about the moral and ethical dilemmas involved in tampering with nature. There was this great quote by the Malcom fellow. He said…" He stopped walking so that he could concentrate; Hermione did as well. "Something about how, if you look at your life at the end of it, it looks just like any single day within your life. Things never quite go as you think they will, in a day, a year, a life."

Hermione gaped at him. "That's in Jurassic Park?"

He chuckled and resumed walking. "Something like it, anyway. What kind of story is this? What do the Muggles call it?"

"Science fiction," Hermione replied. "They take what is known and create something using that which isn't possible. They can't really bring dinosaurs back from extinction."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

Hermione didn't quite know what to say to that. "To be honest, I'm not. Especially after living most of my life in the magical world. I should reread the book so we can discuss it."

"I look forward to that. For now, I want to hear all about your research."

Hermione nodded. "I'll tell you everything at tea. I know your mum will want to know, too, and I'd rather not repeat myself."

ooo

After tea, which lasted far longer than anyone had intended, and during which Hermione filled both Malfoys in on everything that had happened, Draco walked with Hermione to the library. She'd tried to dissuade him from helping her, knowing that she would have a very hard time concentrating with him there. Not to mention, she wanted to return to her comfortable clothes, and she wasn't sure if she could do it with him there. Before April, absolutely. But now?

When they reached the room, Draco opened the door for her to enter. "I'll wait out here again while you get changed."

She blushed but hurried in. Closing her eyes tight, she took a deep breath and completed the Transfiguration. She truly didn't want anything between them to change, and so, despite her newfound self-consciousness around him, she was determined not to let it show.

When she let him in, she noticed he'd also changed and was now wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants with flying Snitches on them and a long-sleeve Slytherin T-shirt. He grinned at her surprised expression. "Couldn't let you be the only one, could I? Now, let's get busy. I've got a little over an hour before I need to leave. I'm having dinner with Pansy tonight."

"Surely you don't plan to wear that."

He laughed. "Of course not. But I don't feel like getting all dressed up when you're…"

"Very much not?" she supplied.

"Something like that."

They sat together on the green sofa and Hermione reached for the book she'd been reading before she was fetched for tea. Forcing herself to concentrate, she opened to her place and tried to resume her research. All she had to do was get through the next hour, then he'd leave and she could focus.

"You could come."

Hermione glanced at him. He was lounging, his legs stretched in front of him, feet crossed and resting on the large matching ottoman. He had a book open, and Hermione knew from the cover that it was a basic history of pixie law. "Come where?"

"Dinner." His eyes darted to meet hers for an instant and her heart skipped a beat. "With Pansy."

Hermione blew out a breath. For an instant, she'd thought he was asking her to dinner. She was still surprised by the invitation, and part of her desperately wanted to accept, but she had a lot of reading ahead of her; besides, she knew she wouldn't be happy if she had plans with a friend and that friend brought someone else along. "Thank you, but I plan to stay here. I've got a lot of books that aren't going to transport their contents into my brain, and I really need that information if I want to be ready for my meeting with the Department Head."

Draco nodded casually. "Is there something else I could read that would help you more?"

"You really don't need to." At his insistent, expectant look, she cast a look around to provide him some direction. "Oh, why don't you read my notes so far? Make sure they make sense and try to poke holes into my thoughts and arguments."

"Sure." He accepted the stack of parchment she handed him, pulled out a quill, and set to work.

After a moment, something struck her and she grinned. "I have a feeling I know what your dinner tonight is about."

He frowned and made a note on her sheet without looking up. "Is that so?"

"Mmhmm. But I'm not saying a word. I do wish I could see your face, though. I'd love to know what you think about such things."

He raised an eyebrow and turned towards her slightly. "Now I'm curious."

"I know. And that's not fair. I'm sorry, but we can discuss it some other time." Hermione smiled at him, then returned to her book. She had a feeling Pansy was going to tell Draco of her plan to propose to Ron, and she wondered what he would think. His family was so traditional that she suspected he wouldn't care much for the idea. But then, Pansy's family was traditional as well, and it had been her idea. Ginny hadn't seemed shocked at the news either, now that she thought of it. Interesting.

The time passed quickly and before she knew it, Draco had to leave to change for his dinner. Hermione requested her meal be brought to her and remained in the library until she was doing more yawning than reading. She carefully stacked the books she was using on the large table and called for the house-elf. After asking her not to reshelve those books, Hermione asked where Narcissa was. Upon being told that she was in her bedroom, Hermione sent word that she was leaving and headed home.

ooo

Friday, JUNE 16

Hermione sat down at the conclusion of her presentation feeling very pleased with the work she'd put into it. She could tell from the look on his face that the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had been both forewarned of her intentions and unmoved by her research.

"Miss Granger." Gerald Crowe was a balding, middle-aged wizard with a round face and wispy brown hair. "You are no doubt aware that there is precedent for the Ministry rescinding a treaty or a contract made with magical creatures?"

"Yes, of course, Sir. The most recent being in 1976 when the Ministry had to clear out a coven of vampires in Wales. But sir, in that case, the vampires were breaking magical law. The pixies have done no such thing!"

He seemed bored, peering at her over his square-framed spectacles. "In short, Miss Granger, the Ministry has some discretion in these matters. However, I'm going to allow you to proceed. Your next step would be to speak with the Department of Magical Games and Sports. This is a complex issue, with many parties involved. I hope I don't upset you when I caution you about moving forward. Everybody wants this Quidditch stadium built. And frankly, I don't see anybody giving up the idea just because of some pixies."

Hermione sat up straight, her blood beginning to boil. "That may be the case, Sir, but the pixies have the right to that land, given to them by us! Does the Ministry truly go back on its promises so easily? I met with the Ppixie Queen earlier this week, and she said they'd heard nothing about any danger to their livelihood or their home. It's rumored that the sale could go through as early as next month! As liaisons to the magical creature communities, it is our responsibility to mediate this process. When, exactly, were we going to tell them that we would be kicking them out of their homes?"

Anger flashed in Crowe's eyes. "That's not your division, nor is it your concern. Did you go through the proper channels to request an audience with their Queen?"

Hermione stuck out her chin. "I sent an official request through this office."

Crowe scowled. "Be careful, Miss Granger. It wouldn't do to anger the wrong people."

"No." She stood, her own ire matching his. "It wouldn't. Good day, Sir."

Without waiting for a response, she stormed from the office. There was no point in trying to work until she'd calmed significantly, so Hermione walked briskly through the Ministry without thinking where she was going. She took the stairs instead of the lift and exited the stairwell when she was out of breath. To her amusement, she found herself on Harry's floor. A quick glance at her watch showed that there were only twenty minutes until lunch, so she decided to meet her friend in his office and walk to the cafeteria together.

He smiled brightly when he saw her approach the desk he shared with Draco, who wasn't there at the moment. Hermione briefly wondered if he was taking more time off again. Harry's expression faltered when he saw hers. "Oh, that's right. You had another meeting, didn't you?"

"Want to start lunch early?"

Harry glanced at Draco's empty seat and hesitated for a moment. "All right. Let me leave him a note." He scribbled something Hermione would hardly call legible on a scrap of parchment and tossed it on Draco's desk.

"Where is he?" Hermione asked as they walked to the lift.

"Meeting. So many meetings. He missed a lot, you know. And he's asked for another two days next week." Harry shook his head. "I hope whatever he's doing wraps up soon. Do you have any ideas?"

She shook her head. "Still nothing."

When they got out on the floor with the cafeteria, Harry sighed. "Lead the way. I can't wait to hear all about how the Department tasked with caring for magical creatures plans to tromp all over a community of peace-loving pixies."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong, Harry." She shook her head ruefully. "It's the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. There's nothing in there about caring."

ooo

Saturday, JUNE 17

Hermione was running late. Marcus would be there in fifteen minutes, and she'd only just arrived home from an emergency tea time with Pansy, at which her friend displayed a shocking level of emotion and fear and doubt over her plan to ask Ron to marry her. Hermione had done everything she could to assure Pansy that, while the idea wasn't something she would personally do, she thought it just might be perfect for her and Ron.

Now she was rushing around her flat, clothes flying as she scrambled to change into something appropriate for a nice dinner and whatever else Marcus had planned. She was still putting on the finishing touches when he knocked.

Hermione opened the door with no shoes and only one earring in. He held a bouquet of roses in one hand. She smiled sheepishly. "Hey. Come in. I'm so sorry, Pansy needed me for something."

Marcus closed the door to her flat behind him. "Where can I put these?"

"Um, there's a vase in the kitchen! Just… I think the top shelf over the fridge?" She hurried to put on her other earring, a necklace, do something with her hair, and find her shoes.

When she emerged, Marcus had put the roses in water and was beaming at her. "You're lovely, as always." He leaned down and kissed her briefly.

"Thank you. Again, I'm sorry to be late."

His smile was dazzling. "It's all right. Ready to go? We'll need to Side-Along for this." He held out his arm and she linked hers with it, bracing for the not entirely pleasant sensation of being thrown through space via Apparition.

When they landed, they were on a rooftop somewhere, and spread before her was a scene straight out of a romantic movie. There were strings of lights hung up around a table for two, set beautifully with china and crystal. There were roses everywhere, the same kind he'd brought to her flat, and she heard music playing softly from somewhere nearby. Though they were in the midst of a busy city, the sounds were muted, as though he'd put a wall up designed to keep out most, but not all, of the noise. It was actually rather peaceful.

"It's beautiful!" She felt slightly overwhelmed. It was the sort of scene she'd expect to see for what she'd imagined would happen with Pansy and Ron soon: a proposal. Surely Marcus wasn't going to do something like that.

"I thought you'd like it." He motioned for her to take a seat, holding her chair out and guiding it under the table once she'd sat down. He opened a bottle of wine and poured them both a glass. "My head chef will be serving us tonight. Though we won't see him. He's preparing the food below us. It's kind of like how they do things at Hogwarts."

Hermione forced a smile and took a drink. In her nervousness over what she desperately hoped she was misreading of the situation, she nearly drank the whole glass. "I'm sure it will be delicious."

Right on cue, salads appeared in front of them. Marcus flashed his favorite grin and picked up his fork. "So what did Pansy need you for so desperately?"

"Choosing a dress. For something special." For some reason, she didn't want to tell him what the dress was for. It wasn't even a fancy dress, but Pansy had wanted to look perfect for the night she asked Ron to marry her. Pansy still didn't quite know when it would be, because she was waiting to hear about Ron's schedule before she set the date.

Marcus' eyes widened. "Pansy Parkinson? The same Pansy who had two changes of clothes for the Quidditch outing last month—one for the game, another for after? I can't imagine her asking for fashion advice from… well, anyone."

"Like I said, it's for something really special." Hermione smiled. "We've grown closer since she started dating Ron."

His expression of surprise grew. "That's… interesting. I got the impression from a few interactions with Pansy that she's changed a lot."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say to that. "I didn't know her at all in school, but I think she's lovely and quite fun. She, Ginny and I have had dinner a few times."

He chewed thoughtfully for a long while, then his face lit up. "Do you remember Lucian Bole?"

She nodded. "How could I forget? I spent every single Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch game with knots in my stomach because I just knew someone would try to hurt Harry. Lucian Bole included."

Marcus had the grace to look somewhat ashamed. "He's getting married in August."

"Oh. That's… good for him." She wasn't sure what she was supposed to say.

"His family decided it was time for him to settle down. He'd just started dating Jill Vaisey, and his parents pushed for their engagement. So he asked, and she consented. I think they've been together for… three months?"

Three months. That was half the time Pansy and Ron had been together, and Hermione had thought that was fast. She wondered if Lucian and Jill had a sparkly relationship.

Marcus took a long drink from his wine glass. "We've been together about that long."

It was all she could do to control her expression from becoming one of horror. The very last thing on her mind was the idea of getting engaged. "What? I thought our first date was in April, which would put us closer to two months." Honestly, engaged after three months was breakneck speed in her opinion, and she couldn't see that ever happening in her own life.

Marcus grinned somewhat sheepishly. "I'm counting that night at the pub in Ireland. March seventeenth, St. Patrick's Day. That's certainly when I started wanting to see you more."

"Oh. Right." She managed an expression that, while not quite a smile, might have passed for one in the dim lighting. "I suppose it doesn't feel like very long because we really haven't seen each other all that much."

A shadow flickered in his eyes, and he seemed about to speak, but then it faded, replaced by a genuine smile. "I hope we can rectify that. But I don't want to talk about that now. Will you tell me about your day?"

The conversation was easy, going from one light topic to another. The food was incredible, and eventually, Hermione was able to relax. They couldn't talk about his work, and he wasn't terribly interested in hers, though she felt she needed to press the point once more. There was an undercurrent of something serious in everything he said and did, and even his laughter felt heavy. But if he wanted them to have a future, he'd have to show interest in what she had to say.

"Have you heard about the new Quidditch Pitch?" She took a bite of her filet mignon and watched his face carefully.

"The one they're planning to build near Caerphilly?" He nodded enthusiastically. "I've heard it's going to replace the one where the Catapults play. It's about time, the stands there are terrible."

Despite wanting to jump into presenting and defending her position, Hermione calmly prepared a different response. Perhaps Marcus simply didn't know about the forest that would be affected. "The League wants to tear down an important part of the forest there."

His expression immediately turned wary. "Oh?"

"My department is in the mix of the mess, because the pixies and the Ministry have an agreement dating back over a hundred years wherein the Ministry promised not to encroach upon that land." She took a sip of wine.

"I see." Marcus relaxed slightly and smiled. "I'm sure you'll get it sorted out."

Hermione knew Marcus well enough to know that the conversation on his end was finished. She inwardly sighed and knew something was going to have to change.

They returned to light and easy topics for the remainder of the meal. When dessert was brought out, a decadent chocolate torte, Marcus cut a piece and served it to her. After she thanked him, he prepared a piece for himself and waited until she'd taken a bite to speak.

"There's something I've been meaning to discuss with you. I hope you don't think this too forward, but I like you, Hermione. A lot." He flashed what was supposed to be a comforting smile. Hermione only felt uneasy again. When she didn't speak, his confidence faltered a bit, and he continued after clearing his throat. "We've been out a number of times, and I was wondering if you'd be comfortable with me using the term girlfriend when I talk about you."

Hermione's heart started pounding, but not in a good way. "Oh!"

"Wait, don't say anything just yet." He chuckled nervously. "Let me get this all out before I lose my nerve. It's been three months since we first met in that pub, and at first, I was okay with how infrequently you were available. But we've been seeing each other long enough now that I'd hoped, perhaps, you'd be open to seeing me more. You seem to work so much, especially lately, and I respect your work, I really do. However, I'm anxious for more time with you. I don't want you to think I'm being pushy. The more I'm with you, the more I like you." He shrugged self-consciously. "But the deep truth is this: I'm a pureblood, and my family is old. There are many traditions that we keep to, courtship being one, and I'd want to begin those with you. Courtship, I mean. Though, don't worry, my family is nothing like some of the stauncher families."

His gaze dipped from hers, and she knew what he'd almost said. Like the Malfoys. It hung unspoken between them, though she didn't know why he seemed unsettled any time she spoke about them.

"My family is anxious for me to settle down, get married, and begin a presence in the upper rungs of society." To his credit, he made a face. "And while I may not care about their timeline, I'm also ready. For myself. I want a family, I want all of that." Marcus reached over and took her hand. "I know we haven't been together very long, but I can see a real future with you. Part of me is terrified to hear what you think. So please, don't respond right away. I'm not asking for marriage tonight. Of course not. But I need you to know that's where I'd like this to head."

Hermione's head was spinning with the suddenness of what he said. It was completely out of the blue! She thought they'd just been having fun, and here he was, telling her that he could see himself marrying her some day! It was overwhelming.

"Take a week," he said, rubbing his thumb gently on the back of her hand. "I'll come over and we can talk. I just… I really like you. And I want you to know what I'm thinking."

"All right. A week." She smiled and extracted her hand ostensibly to continue eating her dessert. It tasted like ash in her mouth now, but she put on a good show of enjoying it. Marcus launched into a discourse about some theory he was working on—always theory, never enough that she could truly join the discussion.

She felt numb for the rest of the evening. Marcus had enough sense to just take her home and say goodnight. He gave her a quick kiss but that was all.

There was no need for her to wait a week to answer him, but she thought it best if she took the time to collect her thoughts and give him the best answer she could while also turning him down. She'd already been feeling pressure from him, though she was certain it was unintentional. It seemed he genuinely enjoyed her company, but since that first lunch together at the Ministry, he'd stopped by three times to invite her to lunch and even dropped by her flat just to chat for a few minutes.

She'd known he wanted more time with her, but she simply hadn't been willing to open her schedule. It was a bit surprising, since she'd started out the year with two goals in mind: lighten her schedule in response to feeling suffocated by all of her commitments, and make time for romance. After trying to force something to happen in January, February, and March, with the speed dating and a few nights out to pubs, she'd discovered more joy in her free schedule than in meaningless dates with practical strangers. When Marcus had appeared in her life, it had felt much more natural and easy, so she'd decided to take things slowly and see where it led. But was it fair to him to work for something she felt so effortlessly for someone else? Was it fair to either of them?

She knew now she wasn't capable of caring for Marus as much as he cared for her. Maybe, if there was no Draco to distract her, if she had more time to get to know Marcus on her own terms, they could have grown to care for each other the way Marcus wanted. But there was no point in thinking about maybes. She could only focus on what was true right then. And, unfortunately, Marcus didn't make the cut.

ooo

Friday, JUNE 23

When Pansy decided she would ask Ron to marry her, she'd thought out every detail, from when and where to what they'd do after. And since Pansy thrived on attention, she'd invited a small group of friends to celebrate at a posh restaurant in Diagon Alley. Her plan was for everyone to be there when she and Ron arrived.

Hermione showed up, as required, at seven on the dot. She quickly found Harry and Ginny at a large table and joined them. They started talking but after a few minutes of taking in the scene, she realized that Draco wasn't there. She had assumed he would be, since he and Pansy were old friends. Pansy had reserved an entire private area for her event, and most of the tables were filled. Hermione saw Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and some other former Slytherins—mostly ex-Quidditch players—at a packed table on the opposite side of the room. It was only natural to wonder where Draco was, but she refused to mention him.

At quarter after seven, the happy couple entered the room beaming. Everyone cheered, and Pansy seemed to glow brighter with every congratulations. Hermione had never seen Ron so happy, and for the strangest reason, tears smarted in her eyes. Maybe it had been all that talk of sparkly relationships and feelings of knowing, because when she looked at Ron, she knew he was wildly happy. She was thrilled for her friend, but it only made the contrast between their relationship and hers with Marcus all the more stark. At least that would be coming to an end soon.

Pansy and Ron slowly made their way through the room, greeting everyone as they went. Finally, they reached their table, and Hermione stood and launched herself at Ron, hugging him for a long time. It felt really good to have all of their sticky relationship behind them, to see him so happy, and know that everything was well and truly over. There had always been just a hint of lingering… something between them. She had a feeling it was now gone entirely.

Pansy cleared her throat and Hermione released Ron, swiping at her eyes. "Congratulations, Pansy!" She hugged the Slytherin woman as well.

Harry and Ginny also hugged both of them, and then Pansy and Ron sat down. There were still a few empty seats at their table, and Hermione suspected the seating arrangements would be very fluid over the course of the evening. Pansy would surely want to spend some time with her other friends. Daphne, Millicent, Tracey, and a few others were all seated at another table.

Pansy immediately held out her ring and wiggled her fingers as she smiled.

Ginny grabbed her hand and gasped. "This is stunning, Pansy! Did you pick this out?" She eyed her brother for a moment.

Pansy waved. "Of course I did. I wasn't going to leave such a thing to Ron." Then she hooked her arm with his and beamed.

Another round of congratulations went around the table. Ron was still grinning like an idiot. Again, Hermione felt a little twinge. There she was, sitting with her two best school friends, one married with one child and another on the way, and the other just engaged, and she wasn't even serious with anyone.

But she pushed those thoughts down and smiled. "Tell us how it happened!"

Pansy launched into the story of how she'd set up a date to go bowling, which is what they'd been doing when they both realized they liked each other. Pansy had put her ring into a bowling ball, and when Ron stuck his hand in, he yelled, "Ouch!" and dumped the ring out. He'd looked at her, all confused, and she'd asked him to marry her. Ron had laughed long and hard, then said yes and put the ring on her finger.

"And then I said, 'where's my ring?' and then Pansy gave me an old family heirloom ring made of wood to wear for now."

Harry's eyes went wide and he gave an exaggerated gasp. "Ooh, Ron, let me see the ring!"

Everyone laughed. Ron blushed bright red and boisterously showed off the ring she'd given him.

Ginny shook her head. "No one would know you aren't married now."

Pansy smirked. "I know, but when we get married, that ring will be replaced with the real one. When the magic ceremony takes place." When the laughter died down, she seemed startled by something and glanced around the room. Hermione and others waited for her to speak. When she turned back to them, she asked, "Where's Draco?"

Nobody knew, but Pansy looked to Hermione, as though she might have the answer. Of course, she was just as clueless as everyone else.

"I'm right here." Draco appeared over Pansy's shoulder and kissed her cheek, then nodded to everyone already seated. In one hand, he held a single red rose.

Pansy reached out to take it. "Oh, thank you! That was so sweet!"

Draco pulled it just out of her reach. "Oh no, this is for Weasley." Everyone laughed again, Harry cackling so hard that tears streamed down his cheeks. Ron accepted the rose graciously; not even flowers from Draco could spoil his good mood. Pansy got into the spirit and clipped the stem and thorns, then tucked the rose over one of Ron's ears. He rolled his eyes but left it alone.

As Draco took a seat between her and Pansy, Hermione noted that Draco's entire manner—his smile, his eyes, even the tension in his shoulder—was different. He seemed lighter, easier, than she could really remember seeing him. Pansy noticed it too because after she retold the story of the proposal to Draco, she leaned over and asked him why he was in such a good mood.

"What do you mean?"

"Um, you're practically glowing. I just got engaged, so don't even try to steal my spotlight right now. But I still want to know what's going on. Just don't spill your news all over my celebration."

He shrugged, chuckling. "I've no intention of usurping your well-deserved place of honor, Pansy. I'm in a good mood, that's all."

Pansy's eyes narrowed. She was in full detective mode now, determined to suss out the reason Draco was so happy. Hermione was fully supportive of Pansy's efforts, though she had no plans to join the crusade. She'd merely sip her beer and silently cheer her friend on. "Where were you before you came here?"

"I was at the Foundation board meeting." Draco placed his order then and handed the menu back to the server.

"Oh, that was today, wasn't it?" Hermione interjected. So much for staying out of it. Even though she was very involved with the Foundation, she'd never attended the board meetings. Those were strictly for investors, and she most certainly was not one.

"Yes, and it went very well."

"But why would the board meeting make you so happy? That can't be it." Pansy scrutinized him to such a degree that even Hermione felt a little nervous.

He rolled his eyes. "Why can't I just be happy?"

"Of course you can, Draco, but this level of happy is not normal. For you, I mean. If this was your normal way of being, I wouldn't say a word, but it's not. Which means something happened to cause"—She flapped her hands agitatedly in his direction—"this."

Draco shook his head with a sigh. "I've nothing to report to you, Pansy." Before Pansy could reply, Draco turned to Hermione. "Where's Marcus?"

She gaped inelegantly at him for a heartbeat. "Oh, um, he couldn't make it." She hadn't invited him, of course. She was thankful that he had never been close enough to Pansy to warrant an invitation to the celebration dinner.

Draco nodded and seemed ready to engage someone in conversation, but Pansy spoke before he could.

"Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

"Pansy…" His good mood slipped for an instant. "Drop it, yeah? It's Foundation business."

"But you're so happy."

"Yes. I am. It was a good day." He spoke with such finality that Hermione knew for certain Pansy would let it go.

Only she didn't. For a long moment, she furrowed her brow in thought, then she snapped her fingers, eyes wide. "Oh, I know something. You've been in the papers lately."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Please tell me you don't believe all the rubbish you read."

"You've specifically been in the U.S. papers." She preened as though she'd won some sort of point in their discussion.

He waited for her to say more but gave up after a bit. "All right. And?"

Pansy arched a brow. "You should keep up with what people are saying about you."

"I don't care what people say about me." His nonchalant demeanor now and everything Hermione knew about him confirmed this.

"But you should! What if they said you'd… I don't know, grown another arm?"

"I would seriously question someone's judgment if they believed something like that, but beyond that, I truly don't care what people say about me." He took a long swallow, meeting Hermione's eyes and shaking his head.

"Really?"

"Really."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, tilting her head to one side. "There's speculation in the U.S. papers. A lot. Over you dating someone there."

"Speculation?" he repeated warily. Then he sighed and gave her a very stern look. "Pansy, I'm not telling you, but you're way off on this."

"Are you taking her to the Foundation thing in July? The woman you've been photographed with? Or perhaps it's the one in India. Or Nigeria."

Hermione winced at Pansy's demanding tone. She wondered if this was a normal interaction or if Pansy was being extra pushy tonight.

He shrugged effortlessly. "I suppose you'll have to come and see."

Pansy clapped her hands in excitement. "Of course I'll be there, you know I always attend your things. Now I have a very vested interest in going. And I know the July event is always full of surprises. But can't you just tell me a little bit?"

"Isn't tonight about your engagement? Not me?" He shot her a look. "Why are you so interested?"

She waved him away. "Yes, of course tonight is about me, but I can't help it. You're just so… sparkly!"

He raised an eyebrow as he took a sip from his drink. "Sparkly?"

The word hit Hermione hard and she wondered what on earth was making him so obviously happy. It didn't have to mean that he was seeing someone, but it was a very obvious reason for being so happy. She couldn't imagine that it had anything to do with the Foundation board meeting he'd just come from, and she definitely, desperately wanted to know if he was seeing someone because she was ending things with Marcus the next day. Not that it mattered what Draco was doing, as he was clearly not interested in her, but her heart hadn't gotten the message yet and still pined for him.

Briefly, she wondered if he might ask her to attend with him, as they'd done in the past, but then she pushed that thought away. It sounded as though he already had plans to take someone, and it didn't really matter. She'd be there anyway, helping Narcissa, and she needed to get her mind off him—even though he was sitting right beside her.

"Have you talked about a date?" she asked Pansy, hoping to turn the conversation.

Pansy's eyes glittered. "Oh, yes. I'm so glad you asked! We're thinking about December."

"Wow! That's soon!" she exclaimed.

"A full year, start to finish, if I'm not mistaken," Draco added.

"Yes! We think December because it's so pretty in winter. And we have this beautiful tree on our property that would be breathtaking all lit up with fairy lights. We'd have a nighttime wedding. Right Ron?"

Her fiancé was in a conversation of his own with Harry and Ginny, but he looked over and grinned at Pansy. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever."

Everyone laughed.

Pansy looked prim. "Well, I have been planning this for a few weeks, so I've had time to think about what I want."

Draco smirked. "Shouldn't you include Weasley in these plans?"

Ron's eyes went wide. "Look mate, I don't care. Just tell me where to go and when to be there, what to wear and what to say."

The table laughed again.

Pansy's expression became hesitant. "Do you really not care? You really want me to do it all?"

Ron gave her a lazy smile. "Of course I care—about you. The details of the wedding? Not so much. I want you to do what you want to do. And if you want me to do something, then I want to do it." He squeezed her hand. "You and me."

The look of confidence returned to Pansy's face and she smiled as she turned away from Ron. "And Hermione, you'll be in the wedding."

"Oh?!"

She waved her hand airily. "It's only natural: you're one of his best friends. Draco, you're in too, as one of mine."

"Whatever you say, Pans."

She bit her lip thoughtfully. "And of course, Harry and Ginny, and I should ask Theo. What about Daphne? Oh, I do want Daphne, but will that be awkward?"

"Why would that be awkward?" he asked.

"Because of Astoria."

"I… don't see why it would need to be awkward. I don't plan on making it awkward."

Pansy nodded. "Good. So Daphne will be in it, and of course Astoria will be invited." She paused a moment, talking to herself and counting off the wedding party on her fingers. "Oh! Millie. Of course, Millie. She'll be my maid of honor. Speaking of them, I should go over and say hello. I've sat with you lot for long enough. Ron?"

"Yup." He hopped up from his seat and gave them a small wave. "I'll be back at some point tonight." Ron made sure the rose was still securely tucked behind his ear as he walked away.

Ginny shook her head. "I would not have guessed he'd be this happy. Ever. But I'm so glad."

Hermione smiled at her friend. "Me too."

ooo

Saturday, JUNE 24

Hermione sat at the café where she and Marcus had agreed to meet. She hadn't seen him in a week, but she knew that her decision wouldn't change when she did. Since their dinner the week before, her feelings, which had been tentative and fledgling at best, had all but dissipated. She wasn't sure if it was completely due to the heavy conversation they'd had that night, but that had certainly sped things along. Now came the unpleasant business of the end.

She'd been at the café for thirty minutes, collecting her thoughts and steadying her nerves with a cup of tea. Marcus was right on time and her heart clenched painfully when she saw him. His smile was hesitant but bright, and she hated that she had to hurt him.

He waved and joined her, the chair scraping on the floor as he pulled it out from the table. "Hey."

Hermione smiled. "Hi."

"Looks like you've been here a while." He pointed to her half-empty teacup.

"Yes. I was in the area running a few errands." She took a long sip of tea.

Marcus jumped right to the matter at hand. "I'm sure I know what you're going to say."

She tried to smile. "Oh?"

He nodded. "The way I see it, if you were going to respond favorably, you'd have done so by now."

"I'm so sorry, Marcus." Hermione started to reach for his arm but quickly drew her hand back and looked down at her lap.

"I knew as soon as I said it that I'd made a mistake." He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. "It was too much, too soon. I went home that night and drank myself to sleep. Since I met you in March, you've been talking about caring for your time, and instead of respecting that, I pushed you. Naturally, I wanted to see more of you, but I was impatient. And because I felt so strongly for you so quickly, I assumed you must feel the same way, so I brought up my familial duties."

"Please know, Marcus, that I truly like you. I had fun with you. But the timing is just all wrong." She shrugged, shaking her head slightly. "Plus, I wasn't even sure what I wanted back in March. Not saying I know it now. I'd thought I wanted to meet someone and start something, but when that happened, I found myself not ready after all. I think I'm still sort of figuring myself out this year. I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't apologize, Hermione. What I was asking… it was a huge amount of pressure."

She bit her lip, ignoring the persistent thought poking in her brain that it wasn't completely all about the pressure and the thought of entering into a very serious relationship with Marcus. If she'd been totally swept away by him, she might have considered the request more carefully. But she didn't feel anything sparkly with Marcus, not that she felt confident she'd know the feeling if it ever struck her.

"Well yes, but I'm just not sure I'm the right woman for you. If I were, maybe it wouldn't have felt like pressure." She frowned. "I'm not sure."

"It was a lot, and it was too soon. You'd repeatedly told me that you were taking things slowly, in all aspects of your life, but I dismissed that by telling myself that I was different. And as you said, the timing was terrible." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Well, I wish you all the best, Hermione. I mean that."

She smiled, relief flooding through her at the end of their brief romance. "Thank you, Marcus. I wish the same for you."

He stood, tapped his fingertips on the table, and made to walk away, then stopped. "Will you be—of course you will. I suppose I'll see you in July at the Malfoy Foundation Hogwarts Celebration Night?"

"You will."

He smiled ruefully. "Save me a dance?"

"I don't usually dance, as I'm too focused on other things, but I'll make an exception." Was that a great idea, she wondered? Briefly, she remembered that Draco had already secured a date for the evening, and she decided she didn't much care. There'd be no harm whatsoever in dancing with Marcus.

He nodded and walked away.

Hermione took a shaky breath when he was out of sight. It had gone much more smoothly than she'd feared. Now, though, she'd be forced to watch Draco and his date all evening, and after seeing him so happy the day before, she had a feeling her heart was going to be trampled on in new and excruciating ways. But, then again, she truly wanted him to be happy. It had made her feel good seeing him so happy the night before, so maybe, just maybe, she could celebrate with him.

When she thought of the night before, she couldn't help but smile, and not only because of Ron and Pansy. She, Draco, Harry, and Ginny had had a wonderful time over dinner, and after a bit, Ron had returned to finish off their meals. Then more of his family had shown up, and the atmosphere in the room had been full of love and joy. She hoped, when it was her turn to fall madly in love, that she would possess even a fraction of the feeling that had filled that room.

And if her arm had brushed against Draco's more than absolutely necessary, she wasn't complaining. If she stared at him just a tad more than could be excused as normal, so be it. Two months had passed since she'd realized she cared for him, and in all that time, she'd tried to push her feelings away, bury them because they had no future. That hadn't changed.

But after she'd left the restaurant, she'd pretended, for just a fleeting moment, that she and Draco had been on a double date with Harry and Ginny, and the fantasy was sweet.