24 Minutes Chapter 3
Hermione was shadowing her manager for the evening. She'd taken a part time position as the assistant event coordinator for Moonlight and Magic Events to try and earn some money. She'd previously waited tables, been a nanny and tutored. None of those particular positions interested her as the fall term began. She was looking for something new, interesting, and suitable to her many strengths.
They were at an evening wedding, one that Henrietta had coordinated six months prior. "While we are here, we are to act with poise and dignity. Our clients are some of the highest ranking and wealthiest in the city. Walk around and make polite conversation with individuals. Ask how everything is going, if there is anything at all you could assist them with."
Hermione nodded and stored that in her memory. They went into the elegantly decorated garden and what she saw when they did nearly made her heart stop. The blond man from the Tube, the bartender. She would rather the floor open up and she fall in than to face him. He'd seen what happened. Her face began to burn with the embarrassment she felt at seeing him.
He was setting up his bar behind the counter in the corner and had yet to notice her. Henrietta was speaking animatedly but she wasn't listening. Hermione's legs still carried her behind the middle-aged brunette, but her focus was solely on the man—she didn't even know his name. If she had to guess, she'd say he looked like a Tom or an Eric.
When he finally looked in the direction of the two new additions to the empty room, he looked just as surprised to see her. His face slipped into a carefully crafted set, made of stone and unwavering. Henrietta waved Hermione behind her. "Hermione, this is Draco. He's been hired as the mixologist for this particular wedding and is on probation with us. If he does well, we will contract him out more often."
Draco. A strange and exotic name, much like her own. As she studied him for the first time, unencumbered and in bright lighting, she took in his appearance a little more readily. He was tall and lean, his frame strong and lithe. His hair was the palest shade of blond she'd ever seen, like the silk strands she'd helped her mother pluck from the ears of corn when she was younger. She absently wondered if it would feel that soft. He had strong, masculine features—an angular jaw line that was clean shaven and looked smooth as marble. But his eyes were his most striking feature—they were the most peculiar and strangely intoxicating shade of grey. She'd never seen anyone with grey eyes before.
He held out his hand and gave her a smirk. "Pleased to meet you, Hermione."
She shook his hand. "Draco."
Hermione could feel her skin, burning so hot she thought she may spontaneously combust. She'd never been so embarrassed in her life. She was never one to lay down and allow people to walk all over her and what he'd witnessed had been a rarity, so it made her even more ashamed to have it witnessed so openly.
Henrietta began speaking and Hermione followed along, but the entire time, she felt his eyes on her. Guests eventually began arriving and Hermione mixed and mingled with everyone. Her personality was outgoing enough to speak with people from all walks of life but reserved enough to know when to take a break and back down from overly conversing.
She managed to slip away from Henrietta, who didn't quite have the same skill in easing back and was currently talking the ear off a man. Hermione made her way to the bar—she'd been avoiding it all night. Her thirst was beginning to get the better of her at this point. Draco was mixing drinks with ease and agility and she stepped up after the guests had taken their drinks and went to sit.
"What can I get for you, love?" Draco asked, his voice satiny and smooth.
"Something fruity and non-alcoholic," she replied, wiping her palms against her dress as her nerves battled within her.
He placed a glass in front of her. "Apple, elderflower, a sprig of mint and some sparkling water," he told her, leaning forward on the bar to angle himself closer to her.
Hermione took the glass and tasted it, relishing in the crisp, floral tones. Draco raised an eyebrow at her and she knew what was coming before he opened his mouth. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
She nodded and held her chin up. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
He gave her a look. "Don't play coy with me. You know what I'm talking about."
She shrugged one shoulder. "I fail to see how it's any of your business."
"Well, the prick made it my business by being so public about it. Are. You. Okay?" he asked again, talking as quietly as he could over the loud music.
She shrugged once more. It had been nearly a week. She supposed that, yes, physically she was okay. Mentally she was confused and angry but faring better than some. Draco stared at her another long moment, seemingly assessing her and she bristled under his gaze.
"Hermione, we do not fraternize with the hired help. Get your drink and move along to the next guest. Ask after everyone in turn, dear," Henrietta chided.
It was another two hours of a drunken bride and guests hooting and hollering while the groom tried everything in his power to calm them all down. Nearly midnight, the last guest finally left the gardens. Henrietta gave her some closing instructions and bid her adieu. Draco had already taken his leave. She walked out of the gates to the gardens, saying goodnight to the managers of the venue and passing around generic business cards.
Up ahead, leaning against a brick wall, was Draco. Of course. Hermione groaned, wanting to avoid him but having no other possible route. As she approached she noticed he was smoking, a cloud of haze around him. "You shouldn't smoke," she admonished, nearing him.
"Spare me. It's a rarity," he replied, throwing the cigarette into a receptacle as he fell in step beside her.
"It's a disgusting habit," she told him, sniffing haughtily.
"So is hitting a woman, but you don't seem to have a problem with that," he told her, his tone clipped.
So he was just going to go right for it? Hermione stopped walking and he went ahead two steps before turning around to look at her. He thrust his hands deep into his pockets and stood casually, staring at her in a way that made her feel like he was looking deep into her soul. "Look. It was not a normal occurrence. I'm sorry you had to witness it, but really. I'm fine."
"Has it happened before?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Hermione wanted to lie, but she was a terrible liar and even a stranger would see right through it. "Yes."
"How many times?"
"This was the second time."
He let out a long exhale of air. "It won't be his last."
Hermione should have been uncomfortable having this conversation with a stranger, but the fact that he had witnessed it eased her mind some. Like she was airing her dirty laundry, but he was there to pick it all up and fold it neatly away. "You don't know him or the circumstances."
"I know enough."
"Is that why you're so quick to fight everyone?" she challenged.
"I would never hit you. I beat that bloke on the tube because he touched you and made you uncomfortable. And I wanted to kick that redheaded idiot's arse, but you stopped me. But, while we're making assumptions, let me guess, he told you the first time that it would never happen again? Tries to cut you down and make you feel small? Tells you no one else would ever want you anyway? He allows his jealousy to get the better of him? Drinking only intensifies all of these behaviors?" Draco asked her rapidly and she felt her wall begin to crumble ever so slightly.
"This is all… a new development…he's been through a lot," she replied meekly. "His twin died last year in a car accident that should have killed him as well."
Draco took two steps to her, concern written in his features. "I don't care if you've got a magnet in your face and he in his palm. You didn't hit him first and did nothing to provoke it, so he should never have raised his hand to strike you. What kind of a man does that? Why are you making excuses for him?"
Hermione bit her lip, feeling emotionally drained. "Because I thought I loved him once."
"And you don't anymore?" Draco asked her, his tone softening some.
She was silent for a long pause and she slowly shook her head. "I just fear that leaving him will push him over the edge."
"You are not responsible for another human being's mental health. He is damaging yours. Give him the names of some psychiatrists and leave him," he told her.
Hermione remained silent. This stranger felt more familiar to her than George did these days. His voice, smooth and deep, was soothing. His demeanor, when he wasn't rearing up to fight for her, was casual and reserved. "You don't even know me. Why do you even care?"
"Perhaps if someone had cared about my mother in this way, she'd still be here today," he replied quietly, looking down at the ground between them.
Hermione lifted her hand to her mouth. "I had no idea."
Draco cleared his throat and shrugged. "Look, Hermione. Listen to what I am saying to you. Don't become a statistic or a story on the nightly news. He may change, but I'm more inclined to believe that this is only just beginning. He has some serious problems and he needs to get them sorted out. It's not your job to do that for him."
He pulled a pen and an old receipt from his pocket and leaned on a nearby auto to write something down. He handed her the slip of paper and she looked down at it. An address and a telephone number. She folded it and put it into her pocket. "My home address and number. You know where I work most of the time—Bliley's. I intend to use these events only when I need extra coin in my pocket."
Hermione looked into the man's face, his eyes shining in earnest. She gave him a small nod. His face relaxed into a smile. "Can I walk you home? Or, to your nearest corner, at least?"
She began walking and he fell in step next to her, both quiet for a long while. They lived a few blocks apart, nearly a mile from where they currently were. "I never thought this would be me, you know?" Hermione began, her voice small and measured.
"Most people don't," he said, looking straight ahead.
"George was always the sweetest man. Kind hearted and care free. He and his twin owned a store front shop. Sold comic books, magic tricks, novelty items. But when Fred died last year, George blamed himself and…something in him snapped. He's changed drastically."
"Was he driving?" Draco questioned.
Hermione nodded, despite the fact that Draco was not looking at her. "Not intoxicated. He slid on the wet road and slammed into a tree. The passenger side was wrapped around the oak, Fred within. George walked away unscathed."
"Doesn't excuse his behavior. I hope you can see that."
Hermione nodded once more and stared at the ground as they walked. "I know," she admitted. "But when I look at him, I still see the funny man I fell in love with. I don't recognize him anymore."
Draco inhaled sharply and then sighed. "It's a terrible feeling when the person you love most becomes a stranger. But…the best thing to do is to get out of a toxic relationship before it ruins your entire life and your entire being."
Hermione was silent as she mulled over the words he was saying to her. She knew he was right—she'd had all of these same thoughts every night as she laid awake in bed. She had always been strong-willed and determined and the last few months with George had shaken her to her core. She had refused to go to their friends and his family. But the more she thought about it, the more she knew that was exactly the course she needed to take. They needed to assist him in getting help. "Can I be candid with you?" she asked Draco quietly.
He shrugged. "Of course."
"Our relationship was on the rocks before the accident. I only stayed with him to comfort him…"
"And now it's spiraled out of control and you feel stuck," he finished for her.
She nodded. "This isn't me."
"You are an absolutely, stunningly beautiful girl, Hermione. You seem to be intelligent from the little interaction we've had. But you've been through a lot in a little amount of time. I'd suggest you drop him and then go and seek some help yourself. So you can begin healing. There is no shame in seeking help."
Hermione came to a halt on the corner closest to the flat she shared with George. "This is the last time I want to speak of him with you. The next time I see you…we need to speak of happier things."
"But you'll think about what I've said?" he verified, concern etched across his face once more.
She nodded her confirmation. "Until next time, Draco."
"Until next time."
o-o-o
