Disclaimer: She Who Must Not Be Named owns Harry Potter, not me.
Finally, the first appearances of Harry and Ron actually on screen in the fic! As always, if you feel the characterization is off, please, let me know.
Also, as the essential disclaimer: I don't actually go to nightclubs, of any kind, in any country, so all I really know about them is what I see on TV, read in books and read in fanfic. I also don't really know what a British Gay Nightclub would be like in the slightest, or if those were even a thing in 2003 in the UK.
I don't speak Italian, and I don't know anyone who does, beyond just shouting into the ether on Tumblr. So I used google translate and then checked it with some more googling.
Thanks to my friend Vic for helping me with a few bits of description and for letting me bounce off some ideas
Cassiopeia
By Kylia
Chapter 11
May 4th, 2003
Spell Practice Range 1
Ministry of Magic, Level 2
Department of Magical Law Enforcement
As was not uncommon when Hermione was deep into a case, she had had very little sleep over the last three days, juggling a thousand and one things. When she'd gotten back from the Forensic consultants, she'd fired off a number of letters in rapid succession, including to the Head of the Auror Office, requesting use of one of the Spell Practice Ranges for unspecified 'magical tests'. She'd had to get Director Fleetwood to back her on it, after the Head Auror had demurred, but she'd gotten it.
She hadn't wanted to explain in detail exactly what she was up to, since she'd been guessing her way through it then.
Hermione looked at the two training dummies she'd set up, and tapped first one, then the other with her wand on the 'shoulder', quickly covering her ears as two quick, loud bangs went off, one right after the other.
The second task, concurrent with the first really, had been getting her hands on guns. She'd resigned herself to getting permission from the Muggle Liaison Office to have to get some kind of suitable fake paperwork plus some Confundus charms to get a few legally, but as luck would have it, the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office had confiscated a quite few pistols from a wizard who apparently intended to hex them several years ago. He hadn't gotten to all of them, but he had gotten to a few, and the MoMAO had filed the unenchanted ones in a box and forgotten all about them until her errant letter had sparked someone's memory in the Archives and Records Department.
So she had her guns. She'd debated trying to fire them herself - point and shoot, how hard could it be - until she remembered reading about recoil, and kickback. She had no intention of throwing her shoulder out of alignment or what have you.
Hence, the dummies, enchanted to perform the motion of aiming, and pushing the trigger.
She couldn't, after all, test her new spell on the actual evidence, Not until she knew it worked.
Tapping the dummies again, watching them lower their hands, still holding the two pistols, Hermione approached the targets.
Thankfully, the bullets had actually hit the large wooden targets she'd set up. The first few times, small targets had been in place, and she'd left the wall full of holes she'd had to take time out to fix.
"Accio Bullets," Hermione murmured quietly, her wand flicking slowly and gently - she did not need the bullets whizzing at her quickly.
The two, slightly misshapen pieces of metal dug themselves from the wood as they floated towards her, landing in her outstretched palm.
I've been at this for 13 hours straight today alone. Hermione blinked, suppressing a yawn just at the realization. Since four in the bloody morning.
"Accio Wakefulness Potion," Hermione mumbled, and this time a small vial flew across the room from her bag, landing in her hand. She didn't waste time popping out the cork and downing the contents.
This was the sixth one in three days, and by now, she'd almost gotten used to the vile taste. Too much Gossamer Ant Antennae, but it would do the job. She could worry about the side-effects of using it too much when she cracked this spell.
Setting the bullets on a table, a foot apart, Hermione looked at them. Her first thought had been to try to draw on the memory of the bullet, as it were, to create an illusion of the gun that fired it. If she could have seen the image of the gun, she could have figured out what gun was used. Cursory research had made it clear a 9x19mm bullet was fairly common.
That had...
It hadn't worked.
She still had ambitions of figuring it out, but she might need to start with the principles behind a psychometry potion. It was practically divination, even if it at least had some genuine principles behind it, but such a potion was nearly useless as it was, which is why it had never been discussed in any potion's textbook at Hogwarts.
But she'd hit on another idea. The connection between bullet and gun was real - the trick was just to trace the bullet to its point of origin. Not only did a bullet actually take small parts of the gun with it, metal scraping on metal, tiny shavings or the like - but metaphysically. There was a link, and if she could perfect the spell...
It was a matter of applying existing principles properly.
Hermione took a long, shuddering breath as she felt her heart start to beat quickly, the wakefulness potion starting to take effect, and she screwed her eyes shut and forced herself to take a longer, slower breath. There was a trick to stop the potion from making you too jittery...
Opening her eyes again, Hermione waved her wand over first one bullet, then the other, the incantation rolling easily off her tongue. Inventing a new spell was - complicated. Or even altering an existing one. The four points spell had been simple, by comparison. Short range, easy to tie to a specific destination...
The bullets moved, a little, almost twitching towards the dummies and the pistols they held, but not quiet.
"Damnit!" Hermione threw her wand in frustration - and immediately regretted it as it sailed across the room and hit the door, landing on the floor with a clatter. Exhaling quickly, setting her jaw and taking another attempt at a slow breath, Hermione crossed the room to grab her wand. As she neared the door, she heard someone fiddling with the door.
"It's locked for a reason!" Hermione snapped, not caring which auror had forgotten to go to one of the other two ranges.
"And I'd like to get it open for a reason, Hermione!" Ginny's voice came through. "Unlock it already."
What the hell is she doing here? Huffing, Hermione brandished her wand and the door unlocked, Ginny coming through. The youngest Weasley was much the same as she'd been in Hogwarts, but older, apart from cutting her hair short, so it wouldn't get in the way during Quidditch. Which, given that she'd finally been promoted from a reserve player in the Harpies to the main team last month, was quite important.
"What do you want?" Hermione demanded, stalking back over to the table. She'd been so close. The bullets actually moved this time. What had she done wrong?
"Nice to see you too, Hermione, how have you been?" Ginny asked, walking towards her. "Merlin, Hermione, how many wakefulness potions have you had?"
Hermione blinked, "Alright, I'm sorry, yes, I should have snapped. I- why are you asking that?" She felt her cheeks heat, not wanting to admit to Ginny just how many she'd drunk. The redhead would tell Harry, and then Harry would come down and...
He wouldn't even be angry with her about it. Ron got angry when she did something like work on very little sleep.
Harry...
"Because you look and sound like you're ready to bite my head off, your leg won't stop twitching, and you haven't even noticed you're tapping your wand against your thigh." Now that Ginny mentioned it, Hermione realized her hand holding her wand hadn't stopped moving, and she willed it to still, glaring at her errant appendage, as if that would work.
"How many?" Ginny asked again.
"...two today," Hermione admitted. "I took one just before you came in, so I'm still feeling the effects, okay?" She defended herself.
"It's been three days since you commandeered this room, according to Harry, so how many have you taken in those three days?" Ginny pressed. The way she raised her eyebrow wasn't quite to McGonnagal's level, but impressively close.
"...six," Hermione flushed, looking away. "I've been - this is important work I'm doing!" She looked back at the bullets. "I need to get this spell to work." It wouldn't be the same as knowing what the gun the killer used looked like, but if she could get a bullet to trace back to the one that fired it, then she could track down the gun that way. At least if she got nearer to it.
"I thought you were investigating Lucius Malfoy's murder?" Ginny blinked. "What do... twisted tiny little lumps of metal have to do with it?"
"Guns, Ginny, Guns," Hermione didn't look away from the bullets. Maybe she needed to... if she could... Maybe she needed to flick the opposite way? No, no, she had been close. She was on the right track.
"Guns?"
Save me from Wizarding ignorance of the muggle world. How could Ginny know so little about muggle technology when her father spent all his free time around it? Guns were one thing, but every now and then Harry or she would mention some muggle appliance or the like, and Ginny and Ron would have no idea, even in the slightest.
Not that Arthur Weasley knows as much as he thinks. Hermione admired the Weasley patriarch's desire to understand, but he insisted on doing it by taking machines and devices apart, rather than actually... seeking to learn the basics first. She'd even given him a muggle science textbook once, an introductory one, and he'd never gotten around to reading it, last she'd checked.
A good man, but still, very much steeped in pureblood biases.
"Muggle weapon. Lucius Malfoy was killed by one." Hermione looked away from the bullets and practiced her hand gestures. She'd waved, but maybe too widely? If she reduced the arc of the wave, maybe if she came down on more of a circular movement...
She ran the arithmancy through her head.
"Didn't the paper say Malfoy died in -" Ginny blinked, paused. "So a muggleborn killed him?"
"Or a half-blood close to the muggle side of their family, yes. That's my guess." Hermione agreed. "Unfortunately, the number of muggleborns and half-bloods with a grudge against Lucius is enormous, even after you narrow down the list based on opportunity and access." Hermione preferred working cases alone, but a second pair of hands would have been useful here, continuing on that side of things. Her list of potential suspects - people involved in and around Horizon Square that would have known about the late Malfoy being there was still over a hundred people. Hermione lowered her wand.
This should work.
She turned back to look at Ginny. "I... I'm sorry for snapping at you." Ginny shrugged, as if to say 'whatever' and Hermione went on. "Why are you here though? I mean, Harry's got a day off, so you're not here to meet him for something."
"I came to drag you away from your desk, but Ernie's cousin -" Ginny groped for the name, "Richard, said you were here doing some kind of research. And by the way, Harry's day off was yesterday."
Hermione blinked, "No, it was today." She frowned, clearing her throat. Oh... she flushed again, though less so this time. "Maybe... okay, I lost track of time?" she offered weakly.
"It's like you're an investigator or something!" Ginny commented, failing to keep a straight face. "Anyway, I'm dragging you away from your work because you've been working too hard - and because Luna and Neville invited us out to the club tonight."
Hermione bit back her immediate rejection. One, because rationally, Ginny was right. Six wakefulness potions in - My foot is tapping again! Hermione forced her leg to still, but the jittery, antsy feeling in her limbs kept going, leaving her whole body feeling twitchy and tight at the same time.
Okay, fine. Hermione... didn't hate wizarding nightclubs. She'd mostly gone with Pansy, back when they'd been dating, and a few times on her own since, but she didn't love them the way her ex had, or the way Ginny, Harry and Ron did. Ginny liked getting tipsy and dancing with Harry, and Ron, of course, liked the chance to play the field.
Hermione let out a long sigh. "Okay... fine. Which one?" There were only two clubs, one just off Diagon Alley, and one in the Wizarding neighborhood of Manchester.
"A muggle club apparently. Archangel. It's here in London." Ginny shrugged as Hermione gave her a look. "I'm as surprised as you are. Apparently they've been to a lot of muggle nightclubs lately, they said Archangel was their favorite." Ginny laughed, "Luna warned Ron that it's mostly for gay people, so he might get hit on. I think it just puffed up his ego more."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh, "he would." She giggled again, doubling over a moment as she kept doing, then clearing her throat and straightened back up. "Sorry."
"Six potions in three days, Hermione. You know better than that," Ginny scolded.
"You say that like it's the first time I've done this to myself," Hermione muttered, sourly.
"And every time, I remind you that you know better," Ginny agreed. She shook her head, "Anyway, it's you, me, Harry and Ron coming. They invited Hannah and Seamus, but they were already supposed to be having dinner with Hannah's family, so." Ginny looked around, then leaned in, speaking quietly. "And they said they invited a bunch of other people we know, but when I asked who, both of them got cagey about it."
"Cagey?" Luna wasn't exactly an open book, but she wasn't one to hold things back or overtly keep secrets, and Neville wasn't one for that either.
"I know... Just said something about... haven't seen a lot of them the last month, you know? And now they're inviting everyone out." Ginny shook her head, "No idea what's going on."
Hermione furrowed her brow, but shook her head as nothing came to mind. "I guess we'll find out." She looked at the bullets on the table. "Before you drag me out here to get ready, let me just try this spell one more time, alright?" Ginny stared at her, but Hermione didn't budge, "One more time."
"Just one."
Hermione took another breath, then cast the spell - same incantation, moving the wand in a smaller waving arc, around into nearly a circle -
The bullet floated into the air and then moved, quickly, but nowhere near the speed it had come out of the gun - towards the two dummies, before eventually stopping in front of one of the two guns, holding in place as the magic glowed and pulsed a soft blue light, a thin line flowing from it to the gun. Specifically, it touched the muzzle. Exactly where it had left the gun.
"Finally!" Hermione nearly shouted, jumping into the air a little - she knew it was the potion, but for a moment she didn't mind as she said 'yes' several times in a row, jumping as she did, thrilled she'd figured it out.
I'll just have to cast it on the bullet that killed Lucius Malfoy, and then keep it with me. It was the first actual progress she could point to that she'd actually be able to use to find the gun.
"So... what did you just accomplish?" Ginny asked, once Hermione stilled, though she didn't stop elating in her small victory.
"It's... I'll explain on the way out," Hermione said. "I'm done with all this," She gestured to the dummies and the guns, "so I'm not even going to think about the case at all tonight."
"Really?"
Hermione opened her mouth, closed it, then, "Okay, I won't do it much. Promise."
"That I believe," Ginny chuckled. "Come on," she gestured for Hermione to follow her, which she did.
May 4th, 2003
Archangel, Muggle London
"What is that noise?" Ron demanded as they approached the entrance of the club. There was only a short line as music of some sort could be heard.
"Music, I think," Harry suggested. He looked over at Hermione, "it is music, right?"
"Yes," Hermione grimaced. She couldn't tell what kind of music with any specificity, but the Wizarding World's music selection was pretty limited. It sounded... there was a sort of rhythmic beating underlying a sound she couldn't really describe, but she had to admit it had a real... energy about it. She found her leg moving in time with it lightly, and she couldn't even blame that on the wakefulness potion.
"I kind of like it," Ginny mused from her position next to Harry. She grinned at him, "Might be interesting to dance to."
"Dance? To this?" Ron snorted. "How?"
"Not all of us have two left feet, Ron," Ginny teased, and then they were next in line. The bouncer looked them over quickly, but after Hermione handed over some pounds, he moved them through. Harry was wearing a button-down shirt and slacks, while Ginny was wearing a black cocktail dress with spaghetti straps - a little scandalous by Wizarding World standards, but perfectly normal by muggle ones.
Ron had developed a fondness for crew cut T-shirts after Harry introduced him to them, and her complete lack of interest in him aside, Hermione had to admit he wore them well - he'd grown out of the gangly build he'd had as a teen.
Hermione, for her part, had decided, perhaps a little recklessly, to go with a dark green draped blouse, the loose fabric with a long, low, v-shaped 'collar' that almost but not quite showed off her breasts. If not for the charm on the blouse itself, if she moved wrong, it might show them off entirely, or nearly so.
She hadn't worn it since breaking up with Pansy - just hadn't had the occasion - and yet, for some reason, she felt the impulse now. Her pants were tight, black and cut off a bit above the ankle. Again, she hadn't dressed up quite like this in a while, but...
"Luna said they'd be at a table over to the right... oh, there they are," Ginny gestured to a table over by the corner, an expansive booth quite a bit larger than necessary. Neville and Luna were sitting next to each other, practically snuggled, arms around each other, looking positively adorable together, as they always did.
"Ginny, Hermione, Harry, Ron!" Nevile waved them over as they approached, the sleeves of his open jacket rolled up, the first button of his polo shirt undone. He'd grown into himself as well, since Hogwarts, as much by getting more confident as anything else - the way he almost lounged in his seat was new, though.
"Lovely you all could make it," Luna said, softly - or as softly as the music allowed - as they all sat down on one side of the table after Neville gestured for them too. Luna wore a cork necklace, and silver earrings shaped like... coiled snakes? Her top was a wrapped, sleeveless cropped shirt, a bright blue, her skirt white. A familiar assortment of bracelets and bangles of all shapes and sizes adorned her arms.
"You look nice, Luna," Hermione nodded, her words echoed by everyone else. "You too," she added to Neville.
"Look who's talking, Hermione," Neville smirked. They exchanged a few more pleasantries, the whole lot of them, and then, clearing unable to hold back his curiosity any longer, Ron spoke up:
"So who else is coming?" Ron crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking around the club. The dance floor wasn't packed end to end, but it did look pretty full.
"They should be here soon," Neville said, watching the door. He looked at them, "Luna and I wanted to introduce you - well, I suppose reintroduce you - to someone, and he's bringing his friends."
"That's not very specific," Harry commented, but he looked more amused than anything. Then Neville's expression brightened, smiling broadly as he waved to someone. Hermione started to turn, but then a very familiar face was already at the table, slipping around the side and dropping between Luna and Neville, who parted for him as if with practiced ease.
Blaise Zabini was dressed like the cover of a trashy romance novel - a ruffled white shirt, with the first three buttons not just undone, but practically missing, revealing a lot of his muscular chest. He draped his arms around Neville and Luna's shoulders, giving Neville a kiss - and it wasn't just a soft peck on the cheek, but a full on kiss, probably with tongue from the way they held it for several seconds. Luna watched with interest, smiling, and not at all bothered by Blaise kissing her boyfriend.
Though the answer as to why she wasn't was made clear when Blaise pulled away from Neville and laid a similar kiss on Luna, who threw her arms around Blaise's neck as their lips locked, holding him close until they both pulled back.
"I see my timing was excellent, miei armori," Blaise said in a voice that was practically a purr, settling down between Neville and Luna.
My loves? Hermione started for a moment, trying to process...
On the surface, it seemed fairly simple, if incredible - Neville and Luna were apparently in something of a triad relationship. Not just a threesome - not if Blaise was calling them 'my loves' and...
"What the bloody hell!?" Ron burst out, demanding. "Luna, Neville, are you - how the - how can you... you're not - what the hell?!" He spluttered, incoherent, apparently so outraged he couldn't string the words together. Not taking it well, clearly. Hermione couldn't quite understand, apart from the fact that Blaise was a Slytherin, but Hermione had thought Ron was at least mostly past that, once he got over her dating Pansy after a month or so.
"Ron, you lout!" Ginny thwacked him on the shoulder with the back of her hand, but her expression looked nearly as disturbed as her brother's, staring at Neville and Luna - and Blaise - as if they'd grown extra heads. "What my idiot brother is trying to say is: Explain?"
Neville cleared his throat, flushing slightly as he started to speak, but then Luna cut in, lightly:
"Blaise is dating Neville and me, and we're both dating him." Her tone was the usual slightly airy one she almost always had, but
"You mean... you're having some sort of... I mean, your sex life is none of my business, Luna, I've said that before," Ginny commented.
"I don't think that's what they're doing, Ginny," Hermione cut in. Though Ginny did sort of have a point - Luna wasn't exactly always sharing details about her sex life with Neville, but she was far more prone to say something that was too much information than most people Hermione knew, at least in circumstances where it wasn't warranted.
In situations where it is warranted, pretty much no one shares more than Blaise, or Pansy, from Hermione's experience. Blaise played up the 'sexy Italian lover' thing to the hilt quite often, from what she'd seen of him, and from what Pansy had told her. It was hardly all of him, but it amused him to play to the stereotype quite often.
"No, there's no way. Neville and Luna aren't like... That." Ginny grimaced, and Ron echoed her expression, while Harry shot her a look of confusion. Hermione furrowed her brow, trying to think of-
"Yes, we are, Ginny," Neville cut in, bluntly, looking at her like he was scolding someone about to re-pot a mandrake without proper ear protection. "Luna and I are both dating Blaise, not just sleeping with him."
"Though there is a good bit of that too," Luna agreed, smiling, an almost mischievous glint to her eyes.
Oh. Hermione opened her mouth with a small 'o' of surprise as she suddenly realized what was bothering Ginny and -
"Ginny, Ron, do you want to explain what's wrong?" Harry cut in. "I mean, we knew Neville liked blokes already, and I thought that didn't matter for Wizards."
"...of course it doesn't," Ron shook his head, "Blimey, Harry, I thought we already made it clear Wizards aren't like muggles on that. Still have trouble believing muggles are about it."
"They do, unfortunately," Hermione sighed. She looked at Harry, "Wizards may not care about homosexuality, but for some reason, they think polyamorous relationships are verboten." It was an obscure thing that didn't exactly come up - polyamory in any context that wasn't one man having a bunch of wives or concubines was uncommon in the modern day and age, and historically uncommon too... depending on how you looked at it, and there was some debate among-
Hermione stopped following down that train of thought.
"It's not 'for some reason', it's unnatural!" Ginny protested, saying it in exactly the same tone she'd heard one of her uncles say the exact same words about 'the fags'.
"And why is it unnatural, Ginny?" Hermione demanded.
"I-" Ginny started, and then she looked to Ron, as if for support. Ron opened his mouth to say something. Hermione looked at him, one eyebrow raised, and he closed his mouth. He looked away, scowling.
"We didn't invite you here so you could insult us, Ginny," Neville said sternly. "You can like it or not, but if you don't..."
"You can leave," Blaise finished, his arms still draped over his... girlfriend and boyfriend, but he moved them a little, almost protectively, rather than lounging between them.
"What do your friends think of this, huh?" Ron demanded. "Your kind is even more-"
"Please, Weasley, tell me all about 'our kind'," Hermione turned, smiling at Pansy's familiar drawk. Hermione's ex was walking towards them, and even if they weren't dating anymore, Hermione couldn't help but stare - Pansy was wearing a long, full length, slinky dark red dress. It was cut short on one side, revealing one of her long legs - definitely one of Pansy's best features - and the silver, strappy high-heeled sandal she was wearing only accentuated her legs even more.
"I..." Ron looked over at Ginny and Harry, as if for support, but Ginny was looking away, flushing, and Harry still looked bemused, baffled by the whole thing.
Hermione managed to pull her eyes away from her ex - a lack of attraction had never been why they broke up - and looked for the other two that she knew had to be here. The rest of Blaise's close friends - Theodore Nott, and Cassiopeia Malfoy. Like with Blaise, Hermione had spent time socially around Nott while dating Pansy, but Malfoy? Never had the occasion.
Nott and Malfoy were indeed right behind Pansy. Hermione's eyes quickly passed over Nott - he looked sharp in his three-piece suit, looking like he'd just stepped out of a corporate board room - but it was Malfoy that had Hermione feeling her breath caught in her throat as she practically drank in the other woman's appearance.
Malfoy''s long, straight blonde hair was more or less the same as always, though it seemed to shine somehow, whether it was a trick of the light or some minor cosmetic charm or potion as it hung down, past her shoulders, almost framing her face and neck, Hermione couldn't say. Her dress though...
It was strapless, and silver, not a gleaming, glittering silver, but a rich, almost dark silver satin that was emphasized against her pale skin. It was tight against her hips and waist, hugging her there. Completing the fitted look of the dress was the deep, sweetheart neckline, the upper half of the dress almost like a corset in shape, especially at the top, where it cut out at her chest - if the dress slipped even a little, though Hermione doubted it would - there was ever chance Malfoy would be giving them all an eyeful. Elegant black embroidery in patterns reminiscent of flowers, but not quite, decorated the top of the dress and down to and around the waist and hips. It ended just above the floor.
Malfoy didn't seem to be wearing much makeup, but Hermione could guess there was some, judging from looking at her face, her lips.
Hermione swallowed, realizing she was staring, but she couldn't pull her eyes away, at least not as easily or as quickly as she'd like. She's...
It felt wrong to describe Malfoy as gorgeous, for so many reasons, and yet...
She really was.
The dress was too much for a nightclub like this, and yet, the other witch wore it perfectly, and she seemed to be entirely at home in it, nor did she look like she felt overdressed. Her expression commanded attention, and projected composure and control...
If the Malfoy heir - no, the Lady Malfoy now - felt out of place in a muggle nightclub, she didn't look like it. Even Pansy hadn't quite managed perfect composure the first time Hermione had taken her out to a muggle restaurant.
"Hermione, are you staring at who I think you're staring at?" Harry's voice interrupted Hermione and she blinked, managing to pull herself away from Malfoy to look at her friend, who had gone from his earlier bemusement to wide-eyed confusion.
"Yes, Potter, she is." Malfoy said, before Hermione could gather herself enough to say something. If Harry had had any doubts, that familiar drawl, that way she said his name would have settled it. Cassiopeia Malfoy didn't sound exactly like the Malfoy they knew in Hogwarts, but there was something ineffably consistent about the voice, regardless.
Harry cleared his throat, "Well, welcome back to Britain, Malfoy." He said, then nodded to Pansy and Nott in turn. "Parkinson, Nott. You wouldn't have happened to have heard from that second cousin of yours, Nott?" Harry asked, and Hermione frowned, not sure what Harry was talking about. The way he asked the question made it seem like he'd asked it before, and it almost seemed... amused? Like it was a joke.
"Have you made any progress in finding out what hole he crawled into after he tried to kill me and then steal from me?" Nott asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Nothing since that sighting in Rome I told you about." Harry shrugged.
"Edward was always a slippery cunt," Blaise remarked. "Idiot, but slippery. He thought he could poison you of all people." Theo chuckled and sat down on the other side of the table from Ginny and Ron, Pansy and Malfoy following suit.
"So, Ron, you were talking about our kind?" Pansy gestured to herself, Nott and Malfoy. "Let me answer for you: Blaise is my friend, and if he's happy, I'm happy."
Ron flushed scarlet, looking away. He cleared his throat.
"Right. I - you - I mean... I assumed, I mean... your families are all -" Ron trailed off.
"Will someone explain why this is such a big deal?" Harry demanded, looking at Ron and Ginny, both of whom were shifting uncomfortably, clearly feeling isolated with no one agreeing with them. He shrugged, "I mean, it's a bit off or... different, at least, but so what? A lot of muggles think Hermione liking girls, or Neville liking blokes or Dean and Michael Corner getting engaged is 'unnatural'. Wizards don't care, and rightly so, but... I mean... this isn't that different, isn't it?"
"I... I... I mean, it's just..." Ginny started and then looked over at Ron. "It's just... it's just how it is, right? Or at least..."
"If I even thought about... you know... Mum would've had my hide," Ron explained. "It's... I mean..."
"It's something that pretty much everyone gets taught is wrong, yeah," Neville explained. "I... I had a hard time accepting how we were feeling at first, Gran would be rolling over in her grave if she knew, but..." He trailed off. "Don't know why it's supposed to be so bad, and Luna never cared... and I like it." He turned his head to look at Blaise and then put one hand behind his head, pulling the other man in for a quick kiss.
"It's all artificial anyway," Luna explained, "Polyamory is perfectly natural for some, and not for others. And some could go either way, watching her... boyfriends kiss.
It... is weird to think of it like that. Fundamentally, Hermione was in agreement with Pansy - if her friends were happy, she was happy. It seemed a bit strange, but then, so had discovering she had magic, or that ghosts existed. Realizing she liked girls had been a bit strange at first, as had been just how accepting the Wizarding World was of that.
Realizing she liked Pansy had been strange, and dating her even more so.
And I just thought of Malfoy as gorgeous, so...
Well, compared to that, Luna and Neville and Blaise all dating each other hardly seemed strange.
"I think the taboo came out because it threatened the marriage alliances between elite families." Luna went on, "It's all silly, but the whole structure of the alliances that they used - and use - to control wizarding society is built on a series of bilateral agreements bound by marriage, not triads or anything more complicated."
"...that makes some sense," Hermione admitted, nodding slowly.
Before she could go on, Ginny cleared her throat and spoke up. "I - I'm sorry for..." she gestured, not wanting to say it.
"Calling us unnatural?" Blaise offered, and Ginny flushed.
"Yes. That. I - I was surprised and... I mean... yes, Mum taught us that it was... and everyone did, I mean, but..." Ginny swallowed and then nodded to Pansy. "Your parents taught you muggles and muggleborns were dirty and..Then you dated Hermione, so... I mean... if you can stop thinking that I-"
She paused, licked her lips and then, looked back at Neville, Luna and Blaise "I don't really get how you all can... be together, but... Parkinson is right..." she cleared her throat again. "It will take some getting used to, but as long as you both are happy, then I'm happy." She leaned forward a little. "And Blaise?"
"Yes, Red?"
"I'll tell you the same thing I told Parkinson when she started dating Hermione: I know hexes a lot worse than the Bat-Bogey one these days, if you hurt them." Her tone quickly shifted, and while it wasn't terrifying, Hermione could grant the note of threat there was... palpable. Blaise raised an eyebrow.
"I keep that in mind, Red."
Theo snorted laughter, and held out a hand. Pansy rolled her eyes and produced a few galleons from somewhere - Hermione's mind considered the possibilities given her dress - and dropped them into Theo's hand.
"I bet Pansy it would take less than fifteen minutes for one of you to threaten Blaise." Theo explained. "Though I did think it would be you, Weasley," he nodded at Ron.
"No, no, I learned my lesson about that with Pansy. Gin's much scarier than me." He cleared his throat and went on. "And... Gin's right. Shouldn't have said it like that. Or... at all. You two aren't... I know you and - so... yeah. Sorry." He cleared his throat again, pulling his hand down his face.
There was a brief awkward silence, then Luna met Neville's eyes, they nodded after a moment, and she spoke again.
"It's... we did just spring it on you, so... just don't do it again." She was met by quick nods from Ginny and Ron. "Lovely," Luna smiled. "Let's start over then: Ron, Harry, Ginny, Hermione - this is Blaise, our boyfriend."
"Always nice to see you again, Granger," Blaise nodded. "And I hear good things about your career in the Harpies, Red. Congratulations."
"Thank you," Ginny smiled slightly, sounding more comfortable on slightly familiar ground. "All I've heard about you was partying, but then, I do hear impressive things about it."
"Ah, but there is a skill to leisure and celebration," Blaise countered. "Sadly, most wizards and witches in Britain do not share it. There are exceptions though."
"Well, we can't all be Italian," Theo countered, chuckling. "Speaking of celebration, if we're here to ring in your relationship, we're sadly lacking in drinks.
"I'll take care of that." Pansy volunteered, surprisingly enough. "Your usual, Blaise?" Blaise nodded. She looked to Theo.
"Surprise me." He answered.
Pansy looked over at Harry, Ron and Ginny, "What about you three?" Harry named a specific cocktail, and Ron and Ginny hesitated. Eventually Ron asked for 'something like firewhiskey' and Ginny named a Wizarding cocktail and wanted something as close to that as possible.
Blaise, Luna and Neville had had their own orders.
"I assume your preferences are still the same?" Pansy asked Hermione, smirking, and Hermione rolled her eyes, but nodded.
"Pimm's Cup," she confirmed.
"Why don't you come with me to get the orders?" Pansy suggested, smirking. What is she up to? More out of curiosity as to what Pansy was planning than a desire to help carry everyone's drinks.
"I notice you didn't ask me what I wanted?" Malfoy spoke up, and Pansy scoffed.
"That's because you'd be boring and just order wine, or scotch straight. No cocktails or anything." Pansy dismissed, waving a hand. "I know what you like."
"I think we established the other day - again - that you have no taste when it comes to food and drink, Pansy," Malfoy countered, without heat. Then she rolled her eyes. "Fine."
Hermione followed Pansy over to the bar.
"So, should I be jealous you stared at Cass for longer than me?" Pansy teased.
"We're not together anymore, I can stare at who I want," Hermione shot back. "And I wasn't-" Hermione started, but the knowing look on Pansy's face made it obvious how little that lie was going to fly. "Okay, so Malfoy's pretty. That's always been true. You forget Lavender and Parvati were my dormmates in Gryffindor. They talked about which boys they thought were attractive all the time, and that included Malfoy, then." She flushed, "Or - you know."
Pansy nodded. "As you say, Cass has always been pretty, I know." She laughed, "Did you know she was actually worried she wouldn't look good, once she finished the potions regimen? Not enough to not do it, Merlin no, but..." Pansy affected Malfoy's voice, "what if I end up looking... average?" She packed so much horror into the last word, or at least tried to, but the effect was ruined by her giggle afterwards and the smile on her face. "I love Cass, but she's always been vain."
"I seem to recall you spending too long in front of the mirror before dates, Pansy," Hermione countered, easily falling back into an old routine with Pansy. After their breakup, mutual though it had been, they'd rarely seen each other. It hadn't been that intentional, at least not after the first few months but...
Hermione didn't regret the breakup, and she doubted Pansy did - their long term goals, their aspirations... very different. What they wanted from life was different, at least right now. But...
I did miss some parts of dating her. Pansy's sharp wit, their banter...
The sex had been... well, amazing, as well.
"I didn't say I wasn't vain too," Pansy replied, unfazed. "I mean, look at me. I think I have a right to be vain." She gestured to herself, head to toe.
"No comment." Hermione replied, smiling. The bartender came by, and Pansy listed off everyone's order, and then added one at the end, presumably for Malfoy. Hermione blinked, not recognizing the drink, but the name was...
Quite distinctive.
"You're getting that for Malfoy?! What even is it?" Hermione didn't realize she'd raised her voice a little until after she finished talking. I mean, in my defense-
"Vodka, amaretto, coffee liqueur and irish cream, mixed with milk, served over ice and topped with whipped cream." Pansy ticked off the ingredients on her fingers as they went. "It's insanely sweet, which is right up Cass's alley. She has the worst sweet tooth out of anyone I've ever known."
"Ah," Hermione swallowed and cleared her throat.
"Also because it's a subtle hint to Cass about what she desperately needs." Pansy added, smirking, and Hermione was left with the distinct feeling that if she'd been drinking anything at that moment, Pansy would have timed her words to maximize the chances of a spit-take.
"What are you-"
"Cassioopeia desperately needs to get shagged." Pansy spelled it out. "Woman hasn't gotten any in nearly two years, and she's been almost entirely cooped up in the Manor since she came back to Britain."
"Her father just died, I think she's entitled-" Hermione started, but Pansy shook her head.
"I know Cass better than you, Hermione. The last thing she needs is the chance to brood over things in solitude." Pansy shook her head. "I love Cass, I do, but obsession and brooding is kind of her thing, especially if you let her get lost in her own head. It's not good for her. And unfortunately, when she gets like this, you have to drag her into having fun kicking and screaming." She rolled her eyes, "Theo and I had to nearly blackmail her into coming tonight."
"Even though this was for Blaise?" Hermione had thought the four of them were closer than that, based on what little she'd heard of their group dynamic from Pansy.
Pansy shrugged, "She'd probably have come around, but like I said, she desperately needs to get shagged. I mean, she almost never goes to any kind of club, here, or when she was in America."
She was in America? Hermione would have thought Malfoy would have gone somewhere else in Europe after she left Britain, but apparently not.
"Is that why she's so... overdressed?" Hermione asked, slowly. Malfoy had looked... annoyingly gorgeous in that dress, but it was something you wore at a high society gala, not a nightclub.
"She doesn't really have anything for going to a club, yeah," Pansy nodded. "But... given the way you stared at her, my evil plan to get Cass shagged is clearly on solid footing. Now I just need to find the right woman for her here." Pansy smirked. "Unless you're offering?"
Hermione spluttered, "Me?! You're-" She looked at Pansy, the way she was smirking. "You're having me on." she accused.
"Of course." Pansy chuckled. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I think a night with you would do wonders for getting the broomstick out of Cass's ass... for several reasons." She added the last three words in a low, familiar murmur, and Hermione cleared her throat, trying not to react to the obvious reference to their own past sexual exploits.
"But," Pansy went on, "No, I wouldn't seriously suggest you two, even for a quick one nighter."
"Good." Hermione chuckled, as the bartender started to line their drinks up on two trays for them to take back. "Because there's no way that's happening."
