'Dinner, shit, what am I going to do about dinner? I don't know if I should have invited Malfoy at all! Shit.'
Hermione paced around her office for at least five minutes before she finally settled down by lying down on the couch in her office. Staring at the ceiling, Hermione absentmindedly twirled her hair between her fingers and frowned.
'I can't do dinner with him! Ginny wants him to die, Harry could care less ever since he met Apexia, and Ron is Ron….as long as I serve edible food, he'll be fine. Merlin, I should call the house and let the Cas….'
Knock! Knock!
Bolting up, Hermione went to the door of her office and opened the door. Draco Malfoy was staring at the ground muttering something to him self. He didn't even notice Hermione had opened the door for him.
"Malfoy? Our company medical insurance provides mental health policies if you can't quiet the voices in your head."
Draco looked annoyed as he let himself into her office.
"Look, Granger, I, well, thanks for the invitation this evening, but I can't make it."
Hermione looked at his face. He looked as if he were almost afraid to cancel out on dinner with her. Even his voice was a bit shaky.
"It's not as if I'm the queen of England. So you're not coming to dinner. More food for Ron."
"Right." Draco turned as if to leave, then turned back, "Look, I wanted to know if I could perhaps make it up to you though. There's a performance tomorrow night of Madame Butterfly at the Wadsworth Opera House. I was wondering if, well, if you'd like to come."
Hermione's face lit up. She was almost speechless, if not a little curious as to Draco's kind gesture.
"My god, I absolutely adore that opera! How ever did you get tickets? I couldn't get tickets, and I usually manage to get any ticket within reason! That's fantastic! I would love to!"
Draco had never seen Hermione look so excited, except perhaps when she was named Head Girl in their seventh year. He smiled and nodded towards her, "I'll stop by tomorrow morning to give you details. Have a good dinner this evening. Again, I'm sorry I can't make it."
"Good bye," said Hermione as she shut the door. She leaned against it as it closed behind Draco.
'Well, disaster averted with Draco not coming. Perhaps we'll just get some take-out curry and drink wine from a bottle. I have no desire to do anything formal this evening. But honestly, did Draco Malfoy look nervous just now? He just seems so much more….grounded? precarious? Well, I don't care, I have a ticket to my favorite opera tomorrow night, an evening with my best friends tonight, it's just Draco being a twitchy little ferret, nothing to dwell on.'
~*~
After Hermione invited Draco for dinner, he sat in the dark at his desk wondering whether or not to try and move in on her then and there. But after much pondering on the situation, he decided he did not want to spend the evening getting torn apart by the She-Weasley, nor did he want to hear anything Harry or Ron had to say. He wanted Hermione, to himself. He decided to go and cancel dinner, but not before making a call to Ron to get more information as to Hermione's likes and dislike's list.
It was perhaps a miracle that Madame Butterfly was her favorite opera. Perhaps an even bigger miracle that the Wadsworth Opera House was a gift from the Malfoy family after the war. But not too many people knew that fact, and Draco wanted to keep it that way.
Walking back to his office, Draco almost chuckled out loud at his little 'performance' in Hermione's office. He had acted a bit twitchy, a little odd for the likes of Draco Malfoy. None of the arrogance and pride that he usually exuded came through. He wanted Hermione to see him as a person who had the ability of get nervous and twitchy about asking a girl to come out with him.
If all went well, he would be going home with Hermione after the opera.
~*~
"So he came into my office all nervous and red in the face telling me he can't make dinner, but he managed to get tickets to the opera tomorrow night and he invited me. It's a good thing that my favorite one is playing, so I had to say yes. But what do you think of him being all, well, nervous? He's a Malfoy! I thought they were void of all emotions except for cold-hearted bastard?"
Harry was on the other line attempting to properly transfigure his old broomstick in a massage table. Apexia was on her way and Harry was planning on giving her a full-body massage. "Honestly Hermione, for someone as smart as you, when it comes to men, you might as well be a lesbian. Don't you get it? Boys get all funny when they're around girls they like, even if that person happens to be a Malfoy. I believe they kept their feelings locked up in a pretty little box and released it when Voldemort died. I think Malfoy's getting whatever was leftover."
Hermione rubbed her temples as she cradled her mobile between her face and her shoulder. "The mere thought of him fancying me is about as appealing as walking in Professor Snape dancing the salsa in nothing but some nipple pasties and a sequined thong."
"Ugh," Harry managed to transfigure the broomstick and quickly examined the table for any splinters or odd parts. He was tempted to as Hermione to help him, but he did not want to discuss what he needed a massage table for. "That's a terrible vision, really. Look, we'll chat over dinner. Just go and watch your little show an-"
"Opera, Harry. It's a wonderful opera."
"Whatever. Just, well, just go. I'm sure if he tries to catch a feel, you'll get one of the fat ladies to sit on him."
"Thanks for nothing Harry. I'll see you tonight."
Hermione hung up the phone and replayed Malfoy's face and body language in her mind over and over. She couldn't shake that perhaps Harry was right about Malfoy liking her. She couldn't shake the fact that it didn't bother her as much as she wanted to either.
~*~
"The opera? You're going to actually accompany that walking pile of shit to a nice formal place where the who's who of wizarding England frequently stop by for photo ops? Do you realize how absolutely devastating this will be? Someone will surely snap another photo of the two of you being all cozy."
Hermione poured more wine into her empty glass. She was sitting cross-legged in her sitting room with Ginny waiting for Harry and Ron to arrive. She spilled a bit on the cuff of her jeans as she filled her cup.
"Gin, look, it's not as if we don't get photographed together all the time. I mean, we work in the same building for the same company! It's good press to see the chairman and president of the company being nice to one another. And he's not as dodgy as he used to be. I think he might even be human."
Ginny snorted, " Hardly. Draco Malfoy will forever be a twitchy ferret who will never get crossed off my 'To Kill' list. Sorry 'Mione, I just want to make sure you're ok. I don't trust him or whatever intentions he may have."
"I know, " Hermione said softly. She didn't know what his intentions were either. "But Ginny, hypothetically speaking, if it were true that Malfoy and I were, you know, together, you'd still be my friend right? And your mum won't hate me…right?"
Ginny stared wide-eyed at Hermione. "You little minx, you've gone and slept with him already haven't you? Haven't you! I knew it! You're already together! 'Mione, I am just, damn, that's just the worst thing I've eve-"
"Ginny! We're not together, we've never slept together. I was just asking a simple question. Can you not jump to conclusions first? Please?"
"Hmm, well, hypothetically, I think I would be rather angry at first. I mean, we know what kind of lot the Malfoy's were. But I would get over it because whoever you deem to be worthy of your attention must be worth something, even if it is a Malfoy. And mum would get over it."
Smiling, Hermione got up and helped Ginny to her feet; "It really was just a question. I don't think that's ever going to happen. It's just that Harry and Ron keep insisting that Malfoy fancies me, and well, now that I think about it, it's not a revolting as it sounded at first. I no longer want to throw up at the thought, just perhaps a little sour face."
The girls walked out of the room and down to the kitchen.
"You know what 'Mione, I think, if the opportunity comes up, you should get involved with Draco Malfoy."
Ginny's words almost caused Hermione to drop the bottle of wine. Ginny noticed the surprised look on Hermione's face and smirked, "I know you think I'm full of shit, but I'm serious."
"Really?" Hermione leaned against the counter, "And why the sudden change of heart?"
"Because," said Ginny, "I've always wanted to say 'I told you so' to the girl who never made a mistake in her life."
"Shut up Gin, I've made plenty of mistakes!"
Ginny glanced over at Hermione, "You have, but none that you've ended up regretting."
Hermione paced around her office for at least five minutes before she finally settled down by lying down on the couch in her office. Staring at the ceiling, Hermione absentmindedly twirled her hair between her fingers and frowned.
'I can't do dinner with him! Ginny wants him to die, Harry could care less ever since he met Apexia, and Ron is Ron….as long as I serve edible food, he'll be fine. Merlin, I should call the house and let the Cas….'
Knock! Knock!
Bolting up, Hermione went to the door of her office and opened the door. Draco Malfoy was staring at the ground muttering something to him self. He didn't even notice Hermione had opened the door for him.
"Malfoy? Our company medical insurance provides mental health policies if you can't quiet the voices in your head."
Draco looked annoyed as he let himself into her office.
"Look, Granger, I, well, thanks for the invitation this evening, but I can't make it."
Hermione looked at his face. He looked as if he were almost afraid to cancel out on dinner with her. Even his voice was a bit shaky.
"It's not as if I'm the queen of England. So you're not coming to dinner. More food for Ron."
"Right." Draco turned as if to leave, then turned back, "Look, I wanted to know if I could perhaps make it up to you though. There's a performance tomorrow night of Madame Butterfly at the Wadsworth Opera House. I was wondering if, well, if you'd like to come."
Hermione's face lit up. She was almost speechless, if not a little curious as to Draco's kind gesture.
"My god, I absolutely adore that opera! How ever did you get tickets? I couldn't get tickets, and I usually manage to get any ticket within reason! That's fantastic! I would love to!"
Draco had never seen Hermione look so excited, except perhaps when she was named Head Girl in their seventh year. He smiled and nodded towards her, "I'll stop by tomorrow morning to give you details. Have a good dinner this evening. Again, I'm sorry I can't make it."
"Good bye," said Hermione as she shut the door. She leaned against it as it closed behind Draco.
'Well, disaster averted with Draco not coming. Perhaps we'll just get some take-out curry and drink wine from a bottle. I have no desire to do anything formal this evening. But honestly, did Draco Malfoy look nervous just now? He just seems so much more….grounded? precarious? Well, I don't care, I have a ticket to my favorite opera tomorrow night, an evening with my best friends tonight, it's just Draco being a twitchy little ferret, nothing to dwell on.'
~*~
After Hermione invited Draco for dinner, he sat in the dark at his desk wondering whether or not to try and move in on her then and there. But after much pondering on the situation, he decided he did not want to spend the evening getting torn apart by the She-Weasley, nor did he want to hear anything Harry or Ron had to say. He wanted Hermione, to himself. He decided to go and cancel dinner, but not before making a call to Ron to get more information as to Hermione's likes and dislike's list.
It was perhaps a miracle that Madame Butterfly was her favorite opera. Perhaps an even bigger miracle that the Wadsworth Opera House was a gift from the Malfoy family after the war. But not too many people knew that fact, and Draco wanted to keep it that way.
Walking back to his office, Draco almost chuckled out loud at his little 'performance' in Hermione's office. He had acted a bit twitchy, a little odd for the likes of Draco Malfoy. None of the arrogance and pride that he usually exuded came through. He wanted Hermione to see him as a person who had the ability of get nervous and twitchy about asking a girl to come out with him.
If all went well, he would be going home with Hermione after the opera.
~*~
"So he came into my office all nervous and red in the face telling me he can't make dinner, but he managed to get tickets to the opera tomorrow night and he invited me. It's a good thing that my favorite one is playing, so I had to say yes. But what do you think of him being all, well, nervous? He's a Malfoy! I thought they were void of all emotions except for cold-hearted bastard?"
Harry was on the other line attempting to properly transfigure his old broomstick in a massage table. Apexia was on her way and Harry was planning on giving her a full-body massage. "Honestly Hermione, for someone as smart as you, when it comes to men, you might as well be a lesbian. Don't you get it? Boys get all funny when they're around girls they like, even if that person happens to be a Malfoy. I believe they kept their feelings locked up in a pretty little box and released it when Voldemort died. I think Malfoy's getting whatever was leftover."
Hermione rubbed her temples as she cradled her mobile between her face and her shoulder. "The mere thought of him fancying me is about as appealing as walking in Professor Snape dancing the salsa in nothing but some nipple pasties and a sequined thong."
"Ugh," Harry managed to transfigure the broomstick and quickly examined the table for any splinters or odd parts. He was tempted to as Hermione to help him, but he did not want to discuss what he needed a massage table for. "That's a terrible vision, really. Look, we'll chat over dinner. Just go and watch your little show an-"
"Opera, Harry. It's a wonderful opera."
"Whatever. Just, well, just go. I'm sure if he tries to catch a feel, you'll get one of the fat ladies to sit on him."
"Thanks for nothing Harry. I'll see you tonight."
Hermione hung up the phone and replayed Malfoy's face and body language in her mind over and over. She couldn't shake that perhaps Harry was right about Malfoy liking her. She couldn't shake the fact that it didn't bother her as much as she wanted to either.
~*~
"The opera? You're going to actually accompany that walking pile of shit to a nice formal place where the who's who of wizarding England frequently stop by for photo ops? Do you realize how absolutely devastating this will be? Someone will surely snap another photo of the two of you being all cozy."
Hermione poured more wine into her empty glass. She was sitting cross-legged in her sitting room with Ginny waiting for Harry and Ron to arrive. She spilled a bit on the cuff of her jeans as she filled her cup.
"Gin, look, it's not as if we don't get photographed together all the time. I mean, we work in the same building for the same company! It's good press to see the chairman and president of the company being nice to one another. And he's not as dodgy as he used to be. I think he might even be human."
Ginny snorted, " Hardly. Draco Malfoy will forever be a twitchy ferret who will never get crossed off my 'To Kill' list. Sorry 'Mione, I just want to make sure you're ok. I don't trust him or whatever intentions he may have."
"I know, " Hermione said softly. She didn't know what his intentions were either. "But Ginny, hypothetically speaking, if it were true that Malfoy and I were, you know, together, you'd still be my friend right? And your mum won't hate me…right?"
Ginny stared wide-eyed at Hermione. "You little minx, you've gone and slept with him already haven't you? Haven't you! I knew it! You're already together! 'Mione, I am just, damn, that's just the worst thing I've eve-"
"Ginny! We're not together, we've never slept together. I was just asking a simple question. Can you not jump to conclusions first? Please?"
"Hmm, well, hypothetically, I think I would be rather angry at first. I mean, we know what kind of lot the Malfoy's were. But I would get over it because whoever you deem to be worthy of your attention must be worth something, even if it is a Malfoy. And mum would get over it."
Smiling, Hermione got up and helped Ginny to her feet; "It really was just a question. I don't think that's ever going to happen. It's just that Harry and Ron keep insisting that Malfoy fancies me, and well, now that I think about it, it's not a revolting as it sounded at first. I no longer want to throw up at the thought, just perhaps a little sour face."
The girls walked out of the room and down to the kitchen.
"You know what 'Mione, I think, if the opportunity comes up, you should get involved with Draco Malfoy."
Ginny's words almost caused Hermione to drop the bottle of wine. Ginny noticed the surprised look on Hermione's face and smirked, "I know you think I'm full of shit, but I'm serious."
"Really?" Hermione leaned against the counter, "And why the sudden change of heart?"
"Because," said Ginny, "I've always wanted to say 'I told you so' to the girl who never made a mistake in her life."
"Shut up Gin, I've made plenty of mistakes!"
Ginny glanced over at Hermione, "You have, but none that you've ended up regretting."
