A/N: Enjoy!
"You look constipated."
To Hermione's complete and utter bewilderment, her body had not burst into flames the moment she and Malfoy had stepped foot on the dance floor together. More than a few of the other guests had indeed darted looks at them in a mix of shock and disgust, but she paid them no mind.
"Do you always project your insecurities onto other people or is tonight a special occasion?" she asked, her arms draped along his shoulders and his around her waist.
He laughed. "If I cared what any of these imbeciles thought of me, this wedding reception would be the last place I'd spend my night off."
For a moment she had forgot he was a Healer now. One of the top Healers in England as a matter of fact. "How do you usually spend your nights off?"
"Well, first, I've only got about one every couple of weeks."
"That … doesn't sound legal," she assessed.
He shrugged. "Better that than draining a week's worth of pay on a night out."
She lifted an eyebrow. "A week? Clearly we go to different pubs."
"What can I say? I've got expensive taste."
"You're also not alone on those nights out, I imagine."
"Is that your backwards way of asking if I'm seeing anyone?" he delved, giving her a spin.
Breath catching a little, the skirts of her dress flared out around her in a whirl of midnight blue. Only as she blinked up at him after, the warm glow of the floating lanterns reflected in his cool grey eyes, did she slowly find her bearings. "Not every witch can resist the reformed bad boy act like I can."
There was a hint of a smirk on his lips but he didn't see it through. "You're brutal."
"So I've been told," she smiled, the self-assuredness in her gut tapering into a different feeling as she became aware of the sheer number of onlookers. "Looks like we've got an audience."
"What do you suppose they're thinking?"
She gave it a moment of thought. "Apart from the usual cocktail of shock, disgust and intrusive guesswork, I'd say they're wondering what drinks we've had and how to get them."
"They could do with a bit of fun, couldn't they?"
"Hold that thought," she decided, breaking away for only a moment as she swiped two glasses of firewhiskey from a floating tray. "Might as well give them more to talk about."
He laughed, clinking glasses with her as they had a sip. "So charitable of you."
"It's the least I could do given most of the guests here tonight have now suffered not one but four Weasley weddings," she joked, leaning in a little as they chuckled together.
"Let's hope their mother isn't within earshot."
"I hope not. She's had it out for me the past couple of years as it is."
His eyebrows bounced up a little. "Should I ask?"
Sipping her drink, she shrugged. "It's just been a bit awkward between us since my breakup with Ronald."
"She doesn't blame you for it, does she?"
"Not … intentionally."
He gave her an obvious look. "Well, don't stop there."
Downing a mouthful, she returned his look. "Only a moron would give you that kind of fuel."
"Maybe I'm just curious."
"Maybe we should think up an equalizer," she suggested. "I tell you what happened between Ron and myself … and you tell me what happened between you and Tracey Davis."
He smirked. "You know about that, do you?"
"Hard not to when the two of you were attached at the hip until last summer."
"Fair enough," he nodded, giving himself a moment to sort the details out. "We were together for about three years before she had secured a job offer in Sweden. I'd have moved with her but one of the senior Healers at St. Mungo's had just retired and they needed an apt replacement on short notice."
She processed that for a few seconds. "So, it was your careers that got in the way?"
"In addition to the fact that we had been drifting for about six months as it was."
"They never really prepare you for that part of adulthood, do they?"
"The part where you have to balance your career and romantic life to an impossible standard?"
"Genuinely," she laughed. "I had taught myself to brew a world class Polyjuice Potion as a child, but it was the complexity of working alongside my boyfriend as an adult that had got me."
Malfoy narrowed his eyes, in thought. "Why have I got the feeling you've left something out?"
"Well, he did also fall in love with Daphne toward the end, but …"
"That absolute oaf cheated on you?" he blurted, choking on his drink.
Hermione hesitated, glancing around to make sure no one had overheard. "Not quite. It was just a platonic sort of thing at the start," she explained. "They had just clicked in a way he and I never had. Once everything had come to light, I was the one who had encouraged him to give it a go."
Lifting an eyebrow, Malfoy had no words apart from, "That's mature even for you."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that was the nicest thing you've ever said about me."
"Well, I have had a few drinks."
"Only a few? I knew you'd be a lightweight," she joked.
He laughed into his firewhiskey. "Speak for yourself. A couple of sips ago, you'd never have told me what you had for breakfast this morning, let alone what happened in your last relationship."
"Fair point," she had to admit, taking in another sip before she recalled. "Last night's pizza."
"Sorry?"
"My breakfast this morning."
He nearly spat out his drink, wiping the dribble from his bottom lip. "Please don't tell me that's a regular occurrence."
"No, not a regular one," she clarified, sipping her drink whilst looking away. "Sometimes it's the previous night's Chinese takeaway or fish and chips …"
"I had such high hopes for you."
"What? I'm a busy woman!"
Narrowing his eyes, he gave her a knowing look. "Eggs take no more than a couple of minutes."
"Like you haven't got a personal chef to cook your meals for you," she countered, downing what remained of her drink before setting the glass down on a tray that came floating past.
"You do know it's my parents that are filthy rich, don't you?"
She rolled her eyes. "Surely you've got some sort of inheritance."
"A portion of which I had used to pay for Healer school."
"And the remaining portion?"
"War relief," he stated, cleaning off the rest of his drink as she just looked to him in soft silence.
Only as the music in the background transitioned to something slower, leaving a blend of couples and romantic hopefuls around them on the dance floor, did she manage to utter a word. "I had no idea."
Parting ways with his empty glass, Malfoy shrugged. "I try not to bring attention to it."
"Why?"
"Some people might not want my blood money," he added, lightheartedly.
She allowed that to sink in, the couples around them swaying together to the sound of Your Song by Elton John. For a moment she had opened her mouth to let him know that she had misjudged him, only it didn't come out in words.
Bringing a flicker of surprise to his cool demeanour, she draped her arms along his shoulders and came in close for another dance. A different sort of dance.
His arms found her waist, the warmth of them filling her chest as she blinked up at him.
"What's this, then?" he asked, in no particular way.
She tried not to smile. "Flirting."
A/N: Thoughts?
