A/N: Welcome back from the weekend, everybody. I have a few things to say. First of all, I probably won't be posting on weekends because that's the only time my boyfriend is not working, and I like to spend a little time with him once in a while. This weekend we got to go bowling! Yay!
Second, there were a few people I wanted to respond to.
J.N. Cahill: Yes, he should have, but then there wouldn't be a story!
kitty253: The reason Blaise didn't know is because as far as Draco knows, Blaise is a Death Eater, and Draco didn't want to announce his union with a Mudblood to Voldemort. That doesn't mean other people didn't know, though...
charmed piper: No, they're not 'ex' yet.
hermyandron4evr: Have a happy, happy birthday!
Any other questions, please put it in a review or email me. My coffee cup thanks you. On to the story.
P.S. I disclaim the characters, and I also want to disclaim rights to the coffee shop named Gypsies, because I'm actually basing it on a coffee shop that just opened right down the road from me. It's not mine, so don't sue me. Besides, I just found out that my car is only worth $500, and that's the most valuable thing I own, so no one is going to get very much.
The walk to Gypsies was colder than Hermione thought it would be. It was foggy, and the air had cooled off long ago. She wished she had her cloak, but it was too dark to go back to Grimmauld Place. Besides, the Death Eaters could still be there, and she didn't feel like a duel right now.
Ten minutes later, she stepped into her favorite coffee shop. It was dim, not quite dark, with upscale barstools pulled up to tall tables, which were scattered about the large room. There were only three other people in here, and one of them was the waitress.
The air had a curious smell to it. It was a mixture of cappuccino and patchouli. It was surprisingly calming. Hermione went to sit in her favorite corner. There, she could look out the windows on either side, or watch the other customers.
Hermione had heard about this place from Ginny. It was owned by two witches and had caused a controversy when it opened by doing palm readings and crystal ball gazings on the second floor. Four days after the shop opened, London Police visited them because they charged for the palm readings and other Divination things they did there. Apparently, it was against a very, very old law on the books, but they fought it and were allowed to stay open, though now they asked for a donation instead of charging. Needless to say, Hermione never visited that floor. On the third floor, they sold antique furniture and carpets. It was quite an odd place, which drew in many Muggle customers. Hermione chose it because she could wear her cloak or her Muggle clothes, and no one noticed.
Besides, she admired the two witches for being so business-savvy.
The waitress appeared and sat Hermione's latte and donut on the table in front of her. Hermione smiled her thanks and opened her book.
She was just getting settled in when someone strolled up to her table and stopped. She didn't look up, thinking it was just another guy trying to pick her up. The figure didn't move. Hermione continued to ignore the person for another minute. When it became apparent whoever it was wasn't going to leave anytime soon, she spoke.
"Excuse me, would you mind getting out of my light?" she asked.
"Maybe." She froze. She recognized that voice. Hermione finally looked up.
Draco stood at the table, slightly damp from the gentle rain now falling outside the window. His hair was longer than she remembered, falling into his eyes. He also looked a little thinner than he did eight months ago. His silver eyes appeared to have lost some of their shine, turning them a dark gray. He had no expression on his face, but his stance suggested he wanted to talk. That's too bad. I have nothing to say to him. "I asked nicely. Will you move?"
Draco's heart started thumping when she looked up. Her eyes were still the same deep brown as they were earlier that day, but the fire he had seen was now replaced by a distant coldness. Her soul felt cool, but not as cold as it had that day eight months ago. I wonder if she's still mad at me. "Okay."
The shadow moved out from her light, and she was about to start reading where she had left off when she heard the chair across from her pulled out. She looked up from her book again to see Draco take a seat. Anger tore through her. What the hell does he think he's doing? "What the hell are you doing? I asked you to move. That doesn't mean 'please sit down, I can't wait to catch up with you'. Please leave."
Draco didn't speak, just handed her a flower. A yellow rose? What's he giving me a flower for? "What's this for?" she asked suspiciously. Secretly, she was happy, because it was her favorite flower, and she wondered if he actually remembered or if it was a fluke.
Draco had been watching her eyes. He saw the flash of surprise, then the happiness the flower had brought her. His own heart swelled a little bit, knowing he had brought her happiness again. "Congratulations."
"What for?"
"Well, I haven't had the chance to tell you 'happy anniversary' for becoming an Auror."
Hermione looked taken aback. Holy shit. "You remembered?"
"Of course. I can't forget anything about you."
Hot anger flared up inside her. "Oh, I get it. You think just because you remembered something means I should be all happy and forgive you, right?"
Yes, I do. "No, it means I was thinking about you."
"Well, knock it off. You have no reason to."
"You're my wife. Of course I do."
"No, you don't. You gave up any right you had to think of me, to care for me, when you lied to me."
"I never lied to you," Draco claimed.
"Yes, you did. You didn't do it to my face, but behind my back. It was a lie of omission. You led me to believe you were someone you really weren't."
"No, that's not true." Dammit, dammit, dammit.
"Yes, it is, and you know it. You know what? I'm done with this conversation." Hermione slammed her book shut and moved to stand up.
"Wait, don't go. I'll leave." Don't make me leave, please? I want to stay here with you.
"No, I don't want to be here anymore. I'm leaving."
"Well, at least let me get your drink."
"No. I don't need, or even want, anything from you. Ever." Oh, you're such a liar. You still love him. You want his love. You want him back.
"Okay."
What? "What?"
"Okay. I'll leave you alone. I just wanted to let you know, well, I miss you."
"That's too bad," Hermione told him coldly.
"Well, good night." Draco walked away. Hermione watched him walk out the door and down the road until the mist and fog hid him from view.
She opened her book, hoping she'd be able to lose herself in it and get Draco out of her mind, only to find she'd lost her place. Damn him! Stupid jackass. What made him think he could just show up and make up with me? She sighed in frustration, put her book in her purse, picked up her latte, and walked out into the night.
XXXXX
Draco was getting cold. He'd been walking around for the last three hours, replaying the scene in the coffee shop over and over in his mind. He remembered how some of her hair had escaped the ponytail she wore and framed her face in little ringlets; how beautiful her eyes were, even narrowed in suspicion and masked by coldness; the way her hands wrapped around her coffee cup; the way her actions portrayed indifference while her soul screamed out her frustration. At what, he didn't know. All he knew was she had felt emotion about him. It was not in any way happy emotion, but he'd take hate over indifference any day. It meant she still cared. His heart soared. Things had gone better than he had hoped. He'd have to thank Blaise the next time he saw him.
A/N: So, there we go. Another chapter done. Like I said before, any questions can be directed to reviews or direct email. I have also decided if anyone wants to know my AIM, just ask. I'm usually on between 11.30 pm and 5.30 am Eastern time, not that that fits into anyone's schedule, but now you know.
Gotta go, you know the drill.
Later,
-Kat
