Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter & co. - just write what could have been.

AN: Reviews keep me going - please leave your comments, thoughts, etc.! :) hearing your thoughts! Me encanta escuchar sus opiniones!

Special shout out to chapou69 ! Your comments always bring a smile to my face - tysm!

As always, shout out to my beta, A.

Chapter Forty-One

Hermione wanted to throw up, but not because she had eaten something foul. On the contrary, she hadn't eaten anything at all, yet her stomach was doing flips. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she couldn't help but to repeat to herself. She knew her face – her entire body – was heated from the interaction she had with Draco Malfoy, and she cursed herself even more. Before she had a panic attack in her office, Hermione quickly sent a flying memo to her boss that she was leaving early. She didn't bother for a reply – she needed to leave. Hermione quickly exited the department and headed to the lift before anyone could stop her; she practically ran to an open floo in the atrium to prevent anyone seeing her frazzled state. Once in her home, and once her familiar was fed, Hermione realized she didn't want to be alone. Before leaving, Hermione decided to change out of her office wear. She slipped on a black, lycra dress and her trainers, pulling out her elastic band to let her curls run free. She kept her wand in hand as she couldn't be bothered with finding a purse or her thigh holder. One quick kiss to Crookshanks head, and an annoyed meow later, Hermione was gone. She apparated to one person she assumed was home. Luckily, she was. Unluckily, she also appeared to be in a state. Pansy wasn't wearing any makeup and Hermione noticed the red splotches on her cheeks and neck. Her hair was also tied up into a hazardous bun and she wore house shoes with dark jeans and an over the shoulder, Slytherin pullover. Hermione forced her jaw not to drop. She didn't even get a chance to speak before Pansy looked at her and thrusted her wine glass into her hands. Hermione barely grabbed in time before Pansy turned back around, allowing her to come in.

"I'm making margaritas, finish that for me, yeah?"

She said.

"Okay."

Hermione responded. She closed the door behind her and followed the jet-black haired witch into her colourful kitchen. The multicoloured tiles covered the entire kitchen and complimented the dark blue cabinets. Half of the kitchen was covered in cabinets, in the middle were Pansy's black stove with oven, towards the end of the cabinets was her black sink. The other side hadbig navy wooden doors that Hermione assumed led tothe pantry. The other half of the kitchen was a long, bright green, high and narrow table that Hermione assumed Pansy used to either cook or host. Hermione liked the colours. She stopped and leaned against the pantry doors, placing her wand on the tiles to her left.

"Are you okay?"

Hermione asked, deciding to tread the easier path. Pansy scoffed, some of her straight hair falling against her cheeks. She was working on cutting limes on a light wooden board cutter; there was a blender besides her that held some sort of dark, magenta concoction. There was also a toaster and an electric water boiler on the left side of the sink.

"I was going to ask you that."

She retorted. Hermione finished the dry white wine, wincing at the flavor and ignored Pansy's smirk to her reaction.

"You first. You came to my flat."

Pansy said, leaving no room for argument. Hermione sighed.

"I think I really like Draco."

She said, whispering. Pansy dropped the lime and knife she was using and squealed as she rushed over to Hermione. Hermione's eyes widen as the petite witch entrapped her in her small arms, squeezing her hard.

"Granger! That's the opposite of a problem!"

Pansy exclaimed, jumping up and down. Hermione laughed nervously, leaning back to avoid being hit by her hand and dropping the glass. Pansy's mood instantly shifted, a wide smile on her pretty face. Her violet eyes stared up at her, being two-three inches shorter than her. While Hermione was surprised by her reaction, she much rather preferred the witch to be smiling than to be frowning.

"I am so happy for you both! Merlin, I know Draco is going to be ecstatic! Gods, he's been pining for you for ages! Slytherin's wand – "

Hermione quickly interrupted Pansy's incoming rant.

"Wait ages?"

Pansy ignored her, as she let her go, and walked back to the cutting board.

"Ugh this has really brightened up my shitty day. I owe Blaise 30 galleons, damn."

Pansy finished, she completed cutting the lime and opened the cabinet door above to reveal many glasses. She took two and placed them in front of her, closing the blue cabinet door. She used a yellow lime squeezer to squeeze half a lime into each of their glasses.

"You were betting on us?!"

Hermione asked, putting her glass down to the right of her, on the green table. Pansy shrugged it off which gave Hermione a chance to ask,

"Why were you having a shitty day?"

Pansy's mood instantly sour; her smile disappeared, her eyes fell, downcast, and she poured the margarita mix into the cups. She took the glittery cup in front of her and offered it to Hermione as she took a large sip of her own margarita. Hermione gave her a second.

"It's pomegranate."

Pansy said. Hermione hummed in response but didn't speak. She didn't want to push, but she also didn't want to make the night about her when her friend was hurting.

"Daphne's getting married."

Pansy said, her tone softer than Hermione had heard in a while. Her tone was just as interesting as her response; Hermione had no idea that Pansy did not like Daphne's fiancée. Although, they hadn't had much time to talk about her at Harry's party, Hermione was curious.

"Do you not like her partner?"

Hermione asked. Pansy gave her a bitter smile.

"I'm in love with her, Granger."

Pansy replied. Hermione put the pieces together and let out an,

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Pansy replied. The violet eyed witch grew tense but tried to play it off as if Hermione's reaction didn't affect her. Hermione cleared her throat.

"Pansy, I don't care about your sexual orientation."

Hermione clarified. Pansy nodded stiffly, but the lines around her eyes soften just a smidge. Hermione was aware of the discrimination people who were part of the LGBTQ community faced; she wasn't one to judge others for who they loved, much less her friends. However, she knew how hesitant people were with their private lives and she wanted to tread lightly. Both witches took healthy swigs before continuing.

"Does she know?"

Hermione asked. Pansy nodded, looking away.

"We were together from the end of fourth year until the end of the war."

Pansy answered. Hermione schooled her shock as she took another sip of the bittersweet, but delicious drink.

"Why is she marrying them?"

Hermione asked, once the slush was down.

"Her parents. Her status. Her role."

Pansy spat, downing the rest of her drink as she turned to get a refill. Before Hermione could reply, a giant silver stallion came trotting in. Pansy shrieked but realized it was a Patronus and then turn to glare at both it and Hermione. Hermione instantly knew who it was, and confusion washed over.

"'Mione, where are you? I need you."

Ginny's voice came out of the horse's mouth before slowly fading away. Hermione hadn't heard Ginny sound so glum before and she instantly went into action. She immediately placed her glass down on the tile in exchange for her wand.

"Granger."

Pansy was trying to stop her from leaving and getting ready to march out.

"Sorry Pansy, I must go. Ginny needs me."

Hermione briefly explained.

"I gathered. Bring her here."

Pansy said. That halted the curly headed witch in her tracks. She couldn't hide the shock on her face this time. Pansy shrugged nonchalantly.

"I need you too."

She whispered then cleared her throat as if she hadn't meant to said that out loud. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, feeling warmth rush over her. Pansy needed her. Hermione couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips.

"I have loads of liquor and I want to know what I'm up against."

Pansy declared, sniffing the air as if she hadn't said what she did previously. Hermione nodded, humoring her. Pansy turned back around to give her a moment of privacy to get back to Ginny. Hermione reached for her side, thinking she had her mobile in her side pocket, but was met with nothing. Bullocks, Hermione thought. Hermione concentrated, pulling the happiest memory to send a patronus back. Her silver otter caught her message and swam through the air. Ginny showed up three minutes later, a knock at Pansy's door.

"'Mione, who lives here?"

Ginny asked as Hermione answered the door. She peered inside, her brown eyes trying to put together an answer. Ginny was dressed in old jeans, trainers, and a gold tank top; her long hair was pulled into a high ponytail; it suited her face well. Hermione assumed she had just gotten out of practice with the comfortable look her best friend was pulling off. Before she could answer the Weasley witch, Pansy beat her to the punch. She appeared behind her with a new glass for Ginny and a refill for Hermione. Hermione mentally rolled her eyes at the adjustments the Parkinson witch made because of present company. She let her hair down, her dark locks not as straight as Hermione had regularly seen but still put together; she also put on mascara and blush to balance out her redness. Hermione eyed her emerald booties, making her just as tall as Hermione – if not just a smidge taller.

"Welcome to my flat, Weaslette."

Pansy said with a smirk. Hermione rolled her eyes and Ginny froze in front of her. Fuck, fuck, fuck, Hermione couldn't help but to think yet again.

.

.

.

"Oy, Theo!"

Draco heard Blaise's voice coming from the hallway of the brightly lit kitchen. The house elves had all retired from the kitchen for their own lunches, leaving both wizards in a semi-awkward silence. Qualt, the head kitchen elf, had prepared something simple, but to Theo's taste while Draco declined food. Theo hadn't spoken since Draco asked him to eat and Draco wasn't pushing him. Now they sat at the kitchen island while Theo's glare intensified as he continued to nibble on his cheesy toast and ignored his squash soup. Draco rolled his eyes again at his petulant friend. Blaise would offer some relief to them both.

"In here."

Draco called out. Blaise strolled in moments later and made a face of surprise when he saw Draco. It then morphed into a sly grin. The Italian was dressed casually, in navy trousers with a pale blue V-neck cotton shirt and brown moccasins; he also wore his gold jewelry that showed off his family status.

"Hermione called?"

Blaise asked, taking a sit in front of Draco and catty corner to Theo. Draco forced himself not to blush, recalling the sweet farewell they had, and he gave Blaise a nod.

"Theo is acting like a child."

Draco replied.

"Am not!"

Theo yelled, only making Draco's point. Theo scowled and pushed his plate of food away from. He had eaten half a cheese toastie. Blaise kicked his feet up on the expensive wooden table, smirking at his brunet mate.

"What did Theodore do?"

Blaise asked, ignoring the vengeful stare that was coming from blue eyes.

"He's hooked on forgo and won't admit it. Granger had to confiscate it and bind him before I got here."

Draco explained, studying his short nails as if the chat with his mates wasn't of importance. Blaise instantly closed his eyes, tossing his head back.

"Theo."

Blaise groaned while Theo stared his barely eaten food.

"I am not hooked."

Theo said, quietly. Draco stop looking at his cuticle and stared at his friend. Theo reluctantly took the challenge.

"Takes one to know one, Nott."

Draco said. They all stayed quiet for a few moments before Theo finally looked away.

"I can handle it."

He whispered. Draco looked to Blaise as the Italian barely inclined his head.

"Go see the mind healer then."

Blaise said. Theo turned to look incredulously at their friend. He opened his mouth to reply to him, but a silver peacock came flying in. Draco instantly straightened up, standing up to hear the message his mother urgently wanted him to hear. His best mates didn't utter a word.

"Draco, I need you home expeditiously. I'll be waiting at the manor."

His mother voice filled the room before the bird disappeared. Draco was heading out the door before the last wisp of silver faded.

"Blaise, watch the kid."

He said and Blaise winked at a frowning Theo.

"Let us know what mon marraine says, Draco."

Theo said in a rush, hoping his request didn't fall on deaf ears.

.

.

.

.

Ginny was uncannily quiet as she sat next to Hermione on a green loveseat. She couldn't deny the Parkinson witch's excellent taste in home décor and cocktails, but she didn't have to be happy about how close she and her best friend appeared. Ginny drank more pomegranate margarita while Hermione nervously fidgeted in her seat. Pansy was talking about the upcoming Greengrass-Avery wedding – one that she and Pansy were invited to. Ginny could tell Hermione was nervous about her and Parkinson being in proximity in Parkinson's flat, not about talking to the dark headed witch. Finally having enough of the idle chatter, Ginny chugged the remains of the dark red drink and placed the cup down in front of her.

"Hermione, can you get me another drink?"

Ginny interrupted the talking witch, earning her a raised eyebrow from the hostess. Hermione looked momentarily confused but agreed, excusing herself while she went into the kitchen as requested, leaving Ginny and Pansy alone. Ginny couldn't stop the squinted look at she tried to analyze the witch. Parkinson stared right back, unfazed.

"You gave her the dress she came to Harry's party to."

Ginny stated.

"I did."

Parkinson replied. They could hear Hermione pouring the drink in Ginny's cup, she was humming softly to herself. She's happy, Ginny thought. The redheaded wanted to be relieved, but being in the current abode, she couldn't let herself.

"She came to you?"

Ginny asked. Parkinson inclined her head. That only gave her more questions than answers, but Ginny didn't have time to ask them. She was running out of time.

"She did."

Pansy answered, her voice low so Hermione couldn't eavesdrop.

"Why?"

Ginny demanded, leaning towards Parkinson. Parkinson tilted her head, her short locks moving with her head motion. She had her ankles crossed, her own margarita glass on top of her left knee. She appeared poised and cool – Ginny hated it.

"We're best mates."

The witch before her said, coolly. Ginny's accusing squint turn into a glare, she leaned in even more.

"She's my best mate."

Ginny said in a low tone. Ginny could feel her temper rising, but she did her best to not automatically reach for her wand. She as a guest after all.

"Why didn't she go to you then, Ginevra?"

Parkinson asked, a smirk on her thin lips. Coldness washed over Ginny's temper and Ginny couldn't help sagging under Parkinson's words. Parkinson hid her triumph behind her glass, raising it to her lips as Hermione came out of her kitchen. Ginny straightened up, smiling falsely at Hermione as she retrieved her cool glass. It felt as cold as she felt. She hadn't come to Hermione to interrogate Parkinson, but her current male troubles could wait. Her best friend had to come first.

"Thanks, 'Mione."

Ginny said. Hermione nodded, smiling gently as she took her seat besides Ginny. Ginny didn't waste any time, downing the cold liquid, wincing at the frigidness as Hermione stared at her with wide eyes.

"Another?"

Ginny asked, sweetly. Parkinson's stare gave her a challenge Ginny couldn't refuse – she was going to win.