Chapter Two- Hello, Malfoy
*********************
Hermione followed Laurence as they approached a tall, dark haired man. Something about his stance and ebony waves struck a chord of recognition within Hermione, and she was startled as Laurence greeted him.
"Blaise! This is the girl I've been rattling on to you for the past week. Hermione, dear, this is Blaise Zabini. He and I were friends in childhood, and I haven't seen him for years. He's working with me now, and I coerced him into coming tonight." Laurence beamed with anticipation as he watched Hermione and Blaise make to greet each other.
Hermione was taken aback by Blaise's sudden appearance in her life. 'Two Slytherins for the price of one?' she thought grimly, but quickly forced herself into greeting Blaise with warmth. Though she trusted Blaise, he was yet another who had surprisingly turned sides when the war came to a boil, she and he had never been close.
"Granger?" he questioned, the shock in his face was clearly read by Laurence, who looked curiously at Hermione.
"Hi, Blaise," she answered. She turned to Laurence, "Blaise and I went to school together, Laurence, we were in the same year, but he was in Slytherin House," she explained to the Beauxbatons graduate. She turned back to Blaise and decided to initiate some sort of conversation with the quiet man she had never really known.
"So, you are working at Gringotts as well? Do you work with Laurence in the accounting section?" she questioned pleasantly.
Blaise shook his head, and quickly answered. "No, I work with curse breaking, and checking the security of the vaults. I was working in France, in another department of Gringotts, where my elder brother works, for the past three years. I've only been back here for a short while. Don't really have any set plans for the moment." He made a face that clearly stated that he hadn't met to say so much.
"So, you and Laurie, eh? He spoke of you, but I didn't make the connection. No last name, and I've been out of the loop here for quite some time. Didn't even think of you." He looked at Laurence with vaguely concealed amusement, as if he found the idea of his childhood friend and the Gryffindor Golden Girl to be a great joke. It made Hermione idly wonder what side of Laurence Blaise must know, what side of him that would make a Slytherin find him a suitable friend.
'Then again,' she told herself, 'it's not like you haven't been known to have dealings with Slytherins.' She cursed inwardly for once again letting herself be drawn back into thoughts of Dra-Malfoy, and also for her ridiculous notion of school houses. The War had shot down the idea of rivalries between houses, instead there was only Light and Dark, the good versus evil, and Zabini had chosen to fight with Dumbledore. This was no time to regress into petty schoolyard resentment.
Laurence bent down and brushed an unruly curl back behind her ear. "Er, I need to talk to Harry really quickly, are you alright waiting here for a moment?" he asked her. She rolled her eyes at him in exasperation as an answer, and he grinned back at her cheekily.
"Alright then, see you in a moment," he said, and took off in pursuit of the dark haired wizard.
Blaise broke the silence by bringing up the one topic Hermione really did not want to discuss at the moment, at least not before consuming a large bottle of wine by herself.
"Is that Malfoy over there?" he asked incredulously. He looked down at her with a cocked eyebrow. "I thought you and Laurence.." He trailed off, wincing at his unasked question and with the very un-Slytherin realization that he had revealed too much.
"What does that mean?" Hermione shot suspiciously. "Yes, Laurence and I are together, but I really don't see what Malfoy being here has to do with that." Her stomach turned at the idea that perhaps he knew. Did Malfoy tell? She would never forgive him, though she could picture it well. It went along perfectly with the idea she had of him outside of their time together in their common room and Order meetings; Malfoy and Zabini smirking by the fire of the Slytherin common room, sharing conquests. Malfoy bragging about being able to shag the Gryffindor virgin, the frigid lion. She bit back tears of embarrassment as she hesitated to look up at Blaise.
When she did, however, she saw that he looked as uneasy as she felt.
"It didn't mean anything, forget I said it," he said, aiming for dismissive ness, but she heard the lingering wariness in his tone. She looked back up into his face and realized that perhaps, he didn't know, but he suspected.
"Right then, but I still don't understand what kind of connection you were trying to make between either of those relationships. I mean- in Malfoy's case- the lack thereof. We were Heads together, and we fought together. That was it. And it was a long time ago. I haven't even seen him for two years, nor have I spoken to him since he came in." She said with an air of defiance. She met his gaze once again, and he appeared to be much more back into the character she knew, full smirk and all. 'Do they take classes in that,' she wondered, 'A sort of preparatory class on smirking before they can be admitted as Slytherins?'
"Of course, of course. I don't really know what I was talking about either, there's no connection at all. I just always had a feeling that there was more to it than that, being one of Malfoy's only intelligent friends," he smirked again. "I could always pick up on there being something different with the way he looked at you." He observed her as she flushed prettily, and stammered a bit, and his smirk grew wider.
"Oh- well. I mean.," She was trying very hard to choose her words carefully but was only succeeding in making herself look like a fool. "I guess there was a surprising amount of mutual respect found, especially during the war. I suppose that was it." Ah, successful excuse.
She gazed about the room desperately and caught the eye of Ginny, who was sitting next to an animated Neville.
"Ah, Neville, I must speak to him about some plants I need. You know me, always working," she laughed nervously. "Well, Blaise, it was nice speaking with you again, I do hope you enjoy the party, and you should come to dinner with Laurence and I while you are back in town. It seems like he would love it, and I am interested in hearing how you and he became friends." She wanted to end the chat desperately so she could think on what he had said in private, but she didn't want to sound rude or abrupt. She smiled and met his dark eyes to find that he was actually smiling back at her, and realized that she had never really seen him smile a real, simple smile.
"Well, it was nice to see you as well, Granger, er, Hermione. If Laurence is the same old Laurie I remember, it seems like you two will do well together, and it would be nice to catch up with him in a more pleasant environment than the depths of Gringotts. Happy Birthday," he added, and she proceeded to take her leave.
She made her way to talk to Ginny, feeling that at this moment she needed a decidedly normal conversation, something Ginny could certainly offer. She would even accept gossip at this point, along as it had nothing to do with a certain tall blond former Slytherin. She was happily received by her friends, and paraded around the room for the next hour or two, meeting up with old friends, having pleasant talks with coworkers, and skillfully avoiding Malfoy.
She found herself a little while later without anyone to talk to, and a little tipsy. She was starting to become quite tired, it had been a long and surprising day, and she walked over to find Harry to lean on while Laurence was occupied with some colleagues. She was, alas, intercepted before her leaning post could be reached, and found herself in the clutches of one Mr. Allabach Garwyn, her eccentric supervisor at her lab, of whom she was somehow unaware his being in attendance.
"Ah, Wotcher, Miss Granger!" He greeted her, his eyes sparkling much brighter than normal, and she suspected that he had been drinking quite a bit. "Or should I call you the soon-to-be-Mrs. Augustin?"
Hermione was taken aback by his question, which seemed to come completely out of the blue. Laurence and she had only been together for six months, they weren't even contemplating moving into together anytime soon, let alone marriage! She opened her mouth to protest, but was so flummoxed, she had nothing to say, and in any case he rattled on.
"Hermione meaning Earthy, Augustin meaning Noble. Yes, yes, I can see that. What a good union of names, for one so practical and full of strength and compassion. It's a fine match between two young people, you can tell just by that!" He looked pleased with himself and his deductions, but Hermione was quick to notice the stares they were drawing from his loud proclamations.
"You must tell me, dear child, when you are finally married, what a send off we shall give you at the lab! Why when I was married, it must be coming on 50 years ago, I received not only the biggest party I had ever been to from my friends, but also two barrels of apples, and a goat! And let me tell you if that goat didn't eat all the apples by the time the party was over. That may have been a disappointment for me, but don't worry your head, because I soon got over it and that goat proved to be a loyal companion. It saved me once, did I ever tell you about that? He droned on and on, and this was about the time when Hermione started to tune him out. In fact, she had heard the story of when the goat had saved him from the flickering lights that were leading him out into a bog to drown. Whether this was the true tale or not, Hermione had no desire to hear it once again, particularly not when he was this drunk and had just announced her non-existent engagement to this side of the room, which also happened to unfortunately contain Parvati Patil. She groaned as she realized that if Parvati had heard, this would mean that half of London would know by tomorrow mid-morning.
"Wait," she paused, "If Parvati is there and so is Padma." She flew her eyes around the large room rapidly, looking for any sign of the white hair flashing, so that she could hold on to the fantasy a little longer that Draco was not anywhere in her vicinity. This illusion was shattered, however, when Mr. Garwyn suddenly peered past Hermione's shoulder and greeted someone in directly in behind her.
"Hello, there, don't you look familiar? What's your name, then?" he asked, peering up at the man.
Hermione did not need to hear the name, she didn't even have to rely on the fact that she could smell his distinctive cologne ('I can't believe he's still wearing that,' she thought) she just knew who it was.
'Because, of course, when meeting someone again at your surprise-but-not-a-surprise birthday party after not seeing them for two years, particularly the person whom you are trying to convince yourself you are not still in love with, it only makes sense that the time he would choose to approach you would be when you are engaged in witty conversation with your stupendously drunk boss, about gluttonous goats, bachelor parties, and your surprise recent engagement that not even you knew about,' she thought angrily.
She absently fingered the wand in the pocket of her skirt, wanting desperately to apparate back to her apartment, take a long bath, and bury herself under her duvet, never coming out again.
Before Malfoy could say anything, which she had no doubt would be full of condescension and malice at her poor, though embarrassing boss, she turned to him, smiled politely, and said coolly, "Hello Malfoy."
"Granger," he acknowledged. He looked down at her, his gray eyes once again unreadable, and she cursed them, for not the first time in her life, for being so closed. Why did he have to make it so difficult to read anything off of him? Allabach was completely forgotten as the two continued to gaze at one another, each measuring the other up.
It was she who first broke off the staring contest. "So, Malfoy. Parvati?" She chanced a glance up at him and smirked inwardly when she could see that this at least was not where he had particularly wanted the conversation to go. "I assume Pansy is fine with this arrangement?"
That was an intentional low-blow, and both he and she knew it. There was no love between Pansy and Draco, for the life of her she couldn't understand why they were still engaged. Well, Pansy's side took little explanation, he offered her a handsome husband, a reformed good name and well place in society, and millions of Galleons. But why Draco was still stuck with this ridiculous family arranged relationship she couldn't tell. Perhaps it was to appease his mother, his only remaining part of his family after his father's death.
It wasn't as if his affairs weren't public. Here he was, at party, which he wasn't invited to, in a room full of people who, while they could not say any longer that they hated him, perhaps, they certainly held little esteem for him, save a few people, and he was flaunting her. It seemed easiest to Hermione for them to just end the ridiculous charade of an engagement (which was going on three years, mind you!) and let each other go.
"Yes," he answered tersely. "Pansy is quite comfortable with the situation."
She watched him try not to glare at her and smirked. It must be some sort of birthday concession to her. She wondered briefly why she was acting this way towards him. Just the fact that he came with Parvati to her birthday party after unknowingly breaking her heart four years ago didn't really give her the right to not play gracious host to him after all these years. So, she did. Just in her own, 'I'm not admitting that I ever liked you but we can't argue because we were on the same side in the War' kind of way.
"Well, where have you been these past two years, Malfoy?" she questioned, and delivered up to him a perfectly sweet, and perfectly fake smile, one which she knew he could see right through.
"Harry used to tell me when he'd see you, keeping me updated on the goings on of old Order members I suppose, but two years. Time certainly does fly. I would have expected you to have children by now!" She let out a little laugh at that, knowing that once again that was a bitter comment that was far too harsh for this kind of confrontation disguised as pleasant exchange. She knew, from the time when they were tentatively friends (how odd that their bond could have felt so real, they couldn't comfortably label it) how he felt about having children. He wanted them, but was desperately afraid of what kind of father he would be, wanting his family have nothing like the family he had. He had loved Lucius and Narcissa both, but he confessed to wanting warmth, and never having his children worry what their parents truly felt for them. Her heart had a broken a little that night as well, just listening to the barely disguised pain in his voice.
She bit her lip in punishment for saying that. It was too harsh, and she hoped that if she could keep up a nonchalant appearance, he might not make the connection between her knowledge of his fears of having children and that previous remark. One look into the storm clouds of his eyes told her that he wasn't buying, and he knew what she was doing.
"Why are you acting like this, Granger? I thought we had a truce?"
There. There it was. Out in the open. Just- tossed on the table like a comment on the weather, or some stupid article in the Daily Prophet. Like a commodity, like it didn't matter, like it was something common. They had never spoken about it while it happened, never outside the warm cocoon of sheets and blankets, whispers, limbs akimbo, cries into the night, and the longs talks which they always followed with to lead them into sleep, never outside this nest did they mention it. And now, here it was, cheapened in the flickering candlelight of this banquet room, cheapened by it being spoken of in front of her friends, her friends, who had no idea what it was like to want something you knew you could never have, something you never dreamed you would ever want!
This time it was her eyes that were flashing as their gazes clashed again.
"We did, Malfoy, we did. Things change though, and we all have to move on, don't we?"
Her dismissal of him was met with a frustrated glare and silence. "Here," He said, still walking up to her as she glided to the front to collect her coat ('If I don't get home soon, I'm going to pass out. I'm much too tired now,' she thought desperately). "I wanted to give you this," and handed her a long slim box, wrapped in thick crimson paper, the color of her old sheets, her favorite mittens, her toenails when she was seventeen.
"Happy Birthday, Hermione," he said quietly, and she stumbled off to thank Harry and Ron, kiss Laurence, and explain to them her sudden exhaustion. She quickly apparated back to her flat and kicked off her shoes. It is only then, sitting on her bed, clad in her skirt and a bra, holding the box in her hand, that she realizes that was the first time he ever called her Hermione outside of bed.
*****************************************
Okay, that's Chapter 2. Next Chapter she opens the gift, we get some flashbacks to illuminate their previous relationship, the War, etc. I'm hoping to have it up this week, maybe by Wednesday? I don't have any classes then, so we'll see.
Thanks so much for reviewing! It's a nice motivator!
NewSecretRose- Thank you so much for your kind comments, I really appreciate them! And Laurence is Hermione's boyfriend, sorry if I didn't make that clear enough in the first chapter, but hopefully it's apparent after this chapter. We'll get some more character development into this guy as well, I don't want him just flopping around.
Random*Oddity- Thank you for reviewing as well, it's so nice to know that some people are actually reading this, and that some people are appreciating it. I'm planning on bringing this all the way through, I don't really have a plan for the story, but I think that'll be the fun part. Hope you enjoy it as I go along!
Tupz- Yay! You were my first comment. Thanks so much, I was really excited about haha. No, really thanks, and I hope you like this chapter as well.