Hello!
Happy Friday, or happy last twenty-four minutes of Friday. Technically still Friday, right?
Again, I apologise for having to leave you on the cliffhanger last time, it wasn't actually my intention but the last chapter was 5k words, this is 8k and I've put another 1.5k onto the start of the next. Also, I know there have been a few people annoyed by Draco's behaviour, and while I won't say it's perfect, try to remember we're only getting Hermione's view in this story. Draco is going through his own personal rollercoaster of emotions and trying to deal with that.
Hope you enjoy,
Nif.
Hermione's eyes burned with tears, and she tried to sniff them back as she slipped through the bar towards the bathrooms. Vaguely, Hermione was aware when she passed Padma at their table, looking completely confused as Blaise prattled on about something.
"Hermione?" Her friend cried after her as Hermione rushed to the safety of the empty back corridor. A tear slipped down her cheeks as she pushed open the door, leading to the back passage and further down, the toilets.
When she pushed through the doorway, the corridor was mercifully empty. A broken sob echoed through the stuffy pub air. Hermione stuffed a hand against her mouth as the door opened again, she prayed whoever it was would just ignore her.
"Hermione." Padma's soft voice said as she turned her and allowed Hermione to bury herself in her jacket. "Gods, what's happened?"
Padma wrapped her arms around Hermione as the witch sobbed into her shoulder, hair tumbling over and covering her face.
"What did he do?" Blaise, who Hermione hadn't notice accompanying Padma, growled.
"What's going on?" Padma asked again, genuine nervous concern showing as she was so clearly out of the loop on the situation.
Hermione could only gasp out another broken noise and shake her head. She couldn't form words. She could only hope that her tears would fill the aching hole in her chest.
Blaise clenched a fist,
"Right." He said, "Padma stay with her, I have to murder a git."
Padma nodded, not sure what on earth else she was meant to do. She patted Hermione's shoulder gently, hugging her tight until the sobs rocked into small hiccups and Hermione's eyes went dry. After a good ten minutes, Hermione pulled her head back and sniffed into her hand. Her whole face was damp, so she didn't know why she bothered.
"Thank you." She muttered, chin quivering when she realised Padma had no idea what she was crying about and Hermione didn't even know where to begin in the whole mess.
She'd slept with Malfoy. She was pregnant with his child. They weren't together. She'd told him she didn't want to be together. She'd gotten annoyed the moment he'd paid attention to another woman, like a foolish woman she'd once sworn she wouldn't become. He'd just told her he had wanted to marry Astoria. It was too much to unpack, and Hermione felt tears prick at her eyes again as she contemplated it.
Padma plucked at a loose, damp curl of Hermione's cheek and tucked it behind her ear.
"Are you ready to talk about it?" She asked gently. "Or would you like me to get you a tissue?"
Hermione's lip pulled tensely at the idea of explaining her evening.
"Tissue, please." She muttered, tears dripping down her cheeks again.
Padma nodded and tucked Hermione's hand in her own. It was lucky they were there on a Wednesday evening. The toilets were empty when they entered, and Padma leant Hermione against the counter as she set to put her to rights.
She handed her tissues and had Hermione wash her face in the little sink before pulling out her wand and casting a few quick charms to dry Hermione's hair and reduce the red puffy look around her eyes.
"Better?" Padma asked finally.
Hermione nodded, glancing in the mirror. She didn't look good by any means, her eyes still a little red but her nose wasn't dripping, and she didn't look like she'd just sobbed into someone shoulder for a good ten minutes.
There was a soft knock on the door, and Blaise stuck his head in. Hermione sniffed and tried to smile at him. He smiled softly back at her.
"You alright?" He asked.
Hermione shrugged. She'd be fine, it didn't mean she still wasn't upset and hurt.
"Is he dead?" She grumbled instead of answering Blaise.
"Not quite." Blaise smirked, "Got him with a real good bat-bogey hex."
Hermione nodded slowly,
"I can live with that." She murmured.
Blaise smiled again, then it faltered.
"He wants to talk to you."
Hermione's heart clenched, and she shook her head.
"No," Hermione said firmly. "No, I don't want to talk to him."
Look, Hermione was a reasonable woman. She could accept that Draco might have had feelings for someone else, that he had intentions that had been derailed by their current predicament. However, in her current state and the mood Hermione had been in the past week, Hermione needed time to process. She knew, objectively, that she was the one to suggest being friends. She was also coming to the conclusion she may be harbouring some more-than-friends feelings towards Draco. Feelings that were very determined not to be quashed down, despite her best efforts.
Padma, who had been observing the conversation, finally interjected.
"Malfoy." She said, not questioned.
Hermione nodded and sniffed.
"What did he do?" Padma placed a protective hand on Hermione's arm.
Hermione snorted. She wasn't sure if she should give Padma the extended version, impregnation included, or just the simplified version.
"He's an arse." Simplified it is.
"While that is completely true," Blaise said, still leaning into the doorframe of the women's bathroom. "He didn't mean what he said, Hermione."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Really. He…" Blaise frowned, "It's really not my place to explain, Hermione, just please, trust me."
Hermione pursed her lips; she didn't want to face Draco. She wanted to apparate home and eat a tub of ice-cream. Still, Hermione was going to have to pass through the pub to get to the floo. If Draco was out there, she would have to see him regardless. She might as well talk to him.
It's not like she could ignore him forever. The Speck was making sure of that.
"Fine." She said.
Blaise held the door open for them, and Hermione straightened herself before lifting her head and walking out of the bathroom. Padma, looking lost but concerned, quickly followed behind her.
Blaise opened the second door for them too, and Hermione found herself only a metre away from Draco, who apparently had decided to wait for them to emerge by leaning against the nearest booth.
"Hermione," he said, looking up and seeing her.
He looked nervous and rather sheepish. He tried to reach for Hermione but she stiffened, and Padma gripped her hand, giving Draco a sharp look. Merlin. Hermione realised she was going to need to explain this to Padma somehow. She had taken it in her stride so far but the night had utterly turned to shambles, and somehow her friend was still there, protecting her from something she didn't even understand.
Hermione would explain, but she needed to deal with Draco first.
"Padma," Hermione said, gently patting the witch's hand, "Could you give us a minute?"
Padma shot a glare at Draco.
"Are you sure?" She asked.
Hermione nodded,
"Why don't you grab us some drinks and I promise I'll explain everything later."
Padma hesitated, and Blaise cleared his throat.
"Don't worry, I'll stay with her."
Hermione tried not to roll her eyes at his supposed gallantry. Padma didn't look any more relieved, but finally, she nodded to Hermione and shot another stern glare at Draco.
"I don't know what's going on," Padma said, "but you hurt her again, Malfoy, and it won't be your nose the bat bogeys come out of."
Draco visibly gulped, and Padma, with a satisfied sniff, departed. The bar was mostly empty and the witch perched herself on a barstool, clearly giving them some time before she returned.
Hermione turned back to Draco. Her lips pinched, and she moved past him to sit at the table. She wasn't going to do this standing in the middle of the pub, she was sure they had already caused enough trouble to be noticed and didn't need anyone owling the Prophet that there had been a scene between them at the Leaky Cauldron.
Blaise, moving faster than Draco, slipped into the booth across from Hermione, shoving Draco's shoulder towards Hermione and Draco grumbled as he took the hint. Hermione wasn't sure she appreciated Blaise's help. She'd wanted Draco seated across from her, not next to her.
"Well," Blaise said, eyeing Draco irritably. "I got her here, now talk."
Draco licked his lips nervously and looked at Hermione. She flicked her eyes away, not sure if she could maintain eye contact without crying again.
"Hermione," Draco sighed, trying to take one of her hands.
Hermione flinched it back. She didn't want his sympathy or his pity. It was bad enough he thought she needed to check in with her every single day, she didn't need to know he pitied her too. She was knocked up, not broken.
"Blaise said you had something to say." She growled, "So say it."
Draco looked hurt, and she tried not to care.
"Hermione," he started again, "I'm really- Damn it, Blaise I can't do this when you're sitting there staring at me."
Blaise, watching them from across the table, shrugged.
"The lady wanted me here. I'm staying."
Hermione was going to remind him that she'd never actually indicated she wanted him there but, to be honest, it was a little comforting. Draco grumbled, cursing Blaise but Hermione sighed. She pulled out a wand and flicked it,
"Muffliato," she said, and a soft buzzing filled the air. "He can't hear us. Talk."
She didn't want to be there all night. If Draco was going to sit there and explain how he and Astoria were such a great couple, Hermione was going to bolt. And cry.
"I'm sorry," Draco said, glancing nervously at Blaise and then back at her. "What I said-"
Hermione glanced at her hands,
"You don't have to apologise if you like Astoria." Hermione said, "I-"
She'd quickly realised she might have overreacted while sobbing into Padma's shoulder. Sure, it hurt like hell to hear how perfect Astoria was for marriage. It hurt to listen to the father of her child defend flirting right in front of her but, realistically, why shouldn't he? Hermione had given him an out. She was the one to say they were friends. He shouldn't be expected to just forsake all other women because he'd gotten her knocked up.
"I don't." Draco broke through her thoughts, "I don't like Astoria, not like that."
Hermione frowned.
"That's not what it sounded like before."
Draco sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"I know." He mumbled, "I'm sorry. It was spiteful, and truly, I didn't mean for it to come out the way it did."
Hermione didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. He wanted to marry Astoria, but he didn't like her, but he was allowed to flirt with her if he wanted. So glad everything was making sense now.
"I said I would have married her." Draco said hesitantly, " and that's not a lie."
Hermione frowned. Who would marry someone they didn't have feelings for? At least when Hermione had married the completely wrong man, she'd really believed they were in love and going to be happy together. It obviously hadn't lasted long.
"Before my father went to Azkaban, he was negotiating with Astoria's father for a marriage contract between us."
"An arranged marriage?" Hermione wrinkled her nose. She'd honestly forgotten she was dealing with Purebloods and their archaic beliefs.
"Yes." He shrugged, "The Greengrass family hadn't been tied with the Malfoy's for a long time, and they were a good Pureblood family."
Hermione looked away. Did he still care about those things now? She wasn't any of them. Her child wouldn't be either. Her child would be a half-blood. Hermione's child would be destroying centuries of Pureblood history and no doubt making dozens of proud Malfoy's roll in their graves.
She was suddenly incredibly grateful that Lucius Malfoy was locked in Azkaban. Hermione had heard stories of the things these old Pureblood families had done to keep their lines pure. Obviously, there had been dalliances before, but any potential discrepancies in the lineage had always been removed. Most Pureblood families had records, family trees that were magically charmed to record the birth of any new member. Much like the tapestry in the Black family house, members couldn't be spelled away to hide their existence, only blasted off to remove their sins. Any potential impure lines would be recorded too, except of course, if they never came into being.
Hermione shuddered.
"Why didn't you?" Hermione asked finally, "Why didn't you just marry her, anyway?"
Draco shrugged,
"I didn't want to. Astoria's father wasn't interested in pursuing negotiations after the Malfoy name was dragged through the mud. I never wanted an arranged marriage; I would have done it for my father, but that was before I realised what a fool he was."
It wasn't the first time but hearing Draco so easily dismiss his father was still odd. Hermione was so used to the boy at Hogwarts who had always been so proud and loyal to his father, seeing him reject Lucius like this was jarring. Reassuring, but still unexpected.
"But you would have married her?" Hermione asked, still a little astounded that he could have just accepted a wife being arranged for him.
"Yes," Draco said, then smirked a little. "It wouldn't have been a very good match after all, anyway."
"Why?" Hermione asked, frowning at her hands.
"Well, I've meet Astoria's current fiancé and let's just say we're a little different."
Hermione looked up. She didn't know Astoria was engaged; it had never been any of the papers.
"Different?" Hermione gulped, the bubbling of shame and embarrassment beginning in her stomach.
Engaged. It most certainly would have helped to know Astoria was engaged. Draco's smirked,
"Yes, well, Marietta is an alright sort, even if she is a little dim for a Ravenclaw, but she and Astoria seem happy. Even if Tori's father isn't."
"Oh," Hermione said, mouth popping open. That would be why there had been no announcement in the papers.
Wizarding perspective was still a little warped when it came to same-sex couples. Nobody seemed to bat an eye when it came to sex, but there was a lot of families who were against the marriage of homosexual couples. The sacred twenty-eight was especially conservative; how were they to preserve their perfect Pureblood lines without marrying a man and woman together? Hermione knew, from whispered rumours, that most homosexual witches and wizards of the Pureblood families were expected to marry 'properly' and then have their 'dalliances' on the side after they had produced an heir.
By the sound of it, Astoria was most definitely not following the status quo. It was undoubtedly possible that her father would disown her if she followed through with the marriage. They couldn't outlaw gay marriage in wizard society as the magical bonds didn't recognise gender, just the sworn oath between two people. Usually, the threat of ruin and being cast out was enough to keep most in line with the archaic beliefs.
Hermione couldn't help admire Astoria a little. Which only made her feel more guilty about her prior assumptions.
"Um," Hermione mumbled in realisation, "so you definitely weren't flirting with her?"
"No." Draco said, "A rather pointless endeavour."
Draco eyes were soft and, mercifully, only a little teasing. It most definitely would have helped if Hermione had known Astoria was engaged to a woman before she'd accused Draco of flirting with her. And the various other things she'd presumed in her head.
"Oh." Hermione looked down, feeling a little stupid.
Draco reached to her again, this time she let him take her hand in his own. He rubbed gentle circles with his thumb. Hermione looked up at him, but Draco was staring at their hands. His forehead was wrinkled in thought, and when he looked up again, meeting her eyes, Hermione felt a flutter of something deep in her core. Draco's eyes were so open, the grey of his iris conflicted as he stared at her pleadingly. She squeezed his hand gently, and he held onto her like a lifeline as he opened his mouth, voice hoarse, unsure whisper,
"Hermione, I-"
"Have you gotten to the good bit yet?" Blaise interjected loudly.
Hermione jumped, forgetting that he was there. Blaise was leaning across the table, clearly unsure if they could hear him through the Muffliato or not.
Draco sighed, let go of Hermione's hand and used it to shove Blaise back over the table into his seat. He turned back to Hermione.
"Git." He muttered to the unhearing but huffing Blaise.
"Says you." Hermione scoffed at him, while Blaise glared at the pair of them.
"Right."
"I, um-" Hermione stuttered, "I guess I owe you an apology."
This was awkward, and more than ever she missed the comfortable companionship she had felt with Draco on the weekend before everything had become tense and messy. Draco shook his head.
"It's fine, I could have just explained. Instead, I-." He paused, dropping the sentence and shifted in his seat, "Actually, I'd much rather talk about why you were angry at me before that."
Hermione blushed, bollocks.
"Um." She said, chewing her lip. Was there any point lying and saying she wasn't annoyed at him? It seemed pointless; she was annoyed. She hated the way they'd become stiff irritable robots the second they decided they wouldn't date or sleep together. Why were the options barely tolerable or snogging?
Draco lifted an eyebrow.
"Hermione," he started, and she waved a hand.
"Alright, yes, I was annoyed at you." She admitted, looking up to the ceiling before she rushed out her thoughts. "The second I told you I wanted to be friends you just cut off. I want to be friends, Draco, not bloody business associates. I feel like the second I said 'no sex' you completely frosted over."
Draco opened his mouth with a frown, but Hermione cut him off.
"And then I get these formal letters inquiring about my health and progress. We're," Hermione paused and looked around, checking the Muffliato spell was still working, "having a child together. I want to be able to talk to you, really talk to you- not like it's been this week; not feel like I'm sending you a progress report."
Hermione let out a little huff as she finished. Draco was still frowning, staring at the table while he seemed to process. When he'd taken a few moments of silence and not responded, Hermione touched his arm.
"Draco." She said, worried he was angry and cutting himself off again.
She had asked him to be friends, and she'd set the 'no sex' rule; perhaps trying to dictate their friendship was too much. She just wanted to keep the comfort they'd had that last Sunday without the actually complicated feelings. So far, it hadn't been going too well.
"I don't know how to be just friends with you, Hermione." The words came out slow, unsure as to if he was trying to find the right phrasing. "I'm trying to do the right thing here, but I don't know if I can."
Draco looked conflicted, as his he regretted saying that much but at the same time wanted to say more. He opened his mouth another time, anxiously closing them and rubbing his brow. He cursed under his breath and shot a nervous look at Blaise, but said no more to Hermione.
Hermione understood it was strange, going backwards to friends from pregnancy and sex, but surely Draco could handle emotions somewhere between intimate and ice. They'd never been friends before, which made it all the more difficult to know what their friendship was meant to look like, but Hermione was willing to wade through the muddy confusion to find the answer. It was Hermione's turn to frown.
"You're friends with Astoria." She said, "How is it any different?"
"I've never slept with Astoria." Draco rolled his eyes.
"So, by sleeping with me, I'm no longer a human being you can interact with?" She raised an eyebrow. Men. She hated men that couldn't handle a relationship with any women if they weren't sleeping with them, Draco was about to get a right talking to if he thought that was appropriate.
Draco groaned,
"No, it's not like that. I just…" Draco paused, chewed on one lip and sighed, "I don't know where the line is with you. What's friends and what's more than friends?"
Hermione honestly didn't know. It was something they'd clearly struggled with, but she didn't want to cut off all conversation because they might accidentally slip into flirting. They'd just have to bumble around for a while until they found some kind of comfort level.
"I don't know. It's something we'll just have to work out as we go." Hermione shrugged, "Friendships aren't linear, Draco, we can't just plot a nice big line and say 'this side is friends, this side isn't'."
"So you're saying," Draco couldn't help a tiny smirk, "there are no rules to friendship?"
Hermione glared at him. Bollocks. Bloody Slytherins twisting everything to their own agenda. Hermione liked rules, even if she'd had a habit of breaking them in Hogwarts. Rules gave boundaries and stability.
"I'm saying, the man I've spent the last week getting formal enquires from is not the same man I agreed to be friends with, and I'd really like to have him back."
Draco looked away guiltily.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled, almost entirely too quiet but the fact it happened at all was still a miracle in Hermione's books. Malfoy's didn't apologise. "I was trying to give you the space you wanted, I don't want to push you away because I-"
Again, Draco cut himself off, and Hermione desperately wished he'd just allowing himself to express his feelings. She got the impression this was not the first time that Draco had gone away, after talking to her, to release his real emotions. She didn't want him to feel he needed to give her space or that she was pushing him away.
"I don't want space from you, Draco. If you need more space, then ok, we can work on that-" Draco looked at her alarmed, and Hermione continued, "but when I said friends, that wasn't me trying to push you away. That was me trying to be closer to you, just, without it getting all mixed up with sex."
Draco licked his lips, eyes watching her face carefully. Hermione smirked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Because," she said, "honestly, sex with you is incredibly distracting. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I sort of stop thinking the moment you look at me like- uh, actually just like that."
Draco's pupils had dilated, his stare growing greedily dark as she'd reminded him of sex. Hermione gulped, and Draco cleared his throat. He looked away and slipped his hand out of hers. She would have been annoyed, but she needed a moment to compose herself as well. Gods.
"Alright." Hermione said, "It's my turn to amend the steps and the rules."
Draco rolled his eyes,
"I say there are far too many rules already."
Hermione shushed him, waving a hand. He was the one who'd started the steps. It had helped her too, when she wasn't sure how to handle the pregnancy, it had given them small steps to work with.
"Step…" She hesitated. Merlin, what very helpful step where they up to now?
"Seven" Draco muttered, "See, you can't even remember what step we're up too. There are clearly too many."
"Oh, be quiet. Step seven: We're going to be friends. That means we can talk like normal humans. We'll also go for lunch and-"
"Oh, now you'll go to lunch with me?" Draco mock gasped at her.
"Yes," Hermione said, with an eye roll, "and if anyone asks, we'll tell them the truth: we're just friends."
Draco grunted, looking dubious at her newfound approval.
"Also, new rules:" Draco sighed dramatically, but Hermione ignored him as she continued, "there are no rules, although I'm still not sleeping with you. And, no more trying to censor how we talk to each other. If one of us thinks it's crossing the line into not-friends, we'll just say something, alright?"
Draco frowned, still looking dubiously at her.
"Those certainly still sound like rules, Granger." He muttered.
"Well, what did you expect- I am Hermione Granger after all." She said, "So suck it up. Think of them as guidelines, or facts of life, or suggestions; whatever makes you feel better."
"So," Draco said after a moments pause, "if I say your hair is looking even bushier than usual and ask if you've got an entire family of birds in there?"
Hermione huffed,
"Rude." She muttered, "but fine. Definitely, not across the line of not-friendly. In fact, that makes it distinctly easier to keep you away from the more-than-friends line."
Draco snorted,
"And if I ask if you're wearing knickers under that skirt?"
His eyes drifted downward, and Hermione squirmed. She licked her lips absent-mindedly, then realising herself, she smacked Draco on the arm.
"Over the line!" She said.
Draco finally chuckled,
"Shame." He muttered quietly.
Hermione opened her mouth to reproach him, but she was interrupted as Blaise stuck his head over the table again.
"So, when am I to be officially announced as Godfather?" He said, a little too loudly, "I take it you two are all chummy again?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, she flicked her wand and reversed the magic blocking Blaise's hearing so she could reply,
"How do you know you're even in the running?" She said, leaning back into the chair as Draco did the same. She supposed that was all the time they were going to get to talk about them, Blaise was clearly ready to be involved in the conversation again.
Blaise raised his eyebrows over his glass.
"I believe I'm due the credit. It was me after all who convinced-"
"Blaise," Draco growled over the table. An urgent, low tone cutting his friend off from further embarrassing him.
Hermione looked between the two of them. Blaise still looked amused, but Draco looked somewhat irate, veins tensing in his arms until his friend glanced away, backing down and smiling politely at Hermione. Hermione was beginning to think if she wanted to really get the full read on Draco's emotions, those that he still seemed determined not to share with her, she needed to pick Blaise's brains.
"I'm just saying, Hermione," Blaise said, "without me, your poor baby daddy here would-"
"I'm sorry." Another voice but Blaise off, this time making all three look up wildly, "Your what?"
Padma stood; four glasses gripped precariously in her hands, staring down at the conspirators. Oh, Merlin, Hermione gulped. She hadn't seen Padma return, too busy trying to analyse the look between Blaise and Draco.
"Uhhhh," Blaise said glancing at Hermione, "She doesn't…?"
Hermione could only shake her head in horror.
"Well," Blaise said slowly, the words came out mechanical as if you could see the cogs grinding to think of something. "I said, uh, without me your, um, gaby… no, um… faby, no that's worse. Blimey, what the hell else rhymes with baby?"
Hermione groaned and rubbed the bridge of her nose while Draco looked across the table, aghast at his friend's complete lack of subtlety.
"Blaise." He groaned, "You can stop."
Blaise let out a long huff of air.
"Thank the gods." He mumbled, gulping down the rest of the liquid in his glass and shuffling over to make room for Padma.
Padma slid into the seat diagonally across from Hermione, setting the drinks down in front of her.
"Hermione, what's going on?" She asked softly, reaching one hand across the table and touching Hermione's hand gently. "I saw you two looking friendly again and thought it might be safe to come back, but clearly there's more going on here."
Padma looked between the three of them, Hermione couldn't really blame her. They'd relegated her to the bar for long enough, she'd probably been getting annoyed about being in the dark for so long and leaving her friend at the mercy of two Slytherins. Hermione sighed and gripped Padma's hand back. It wasn't like she didn't owe her an explanation for the whole evening.
"I'm, uh," Hermione paused, checking that no one else was about to walk into another revelation. "I'm pregnant."
Despite obviously hearing what Blaise had said Padma's mouth dropped open. She blinked, squeezed Hermione's hand, opened her mouth, closed it, made a 'huh' sound, then looked at Blaise with a wrinkled nose.
"Why on earth did Blaise Zabini know about you being pregnant before I did?" She said. "Oh gods, are you-"
Blaise frowned back at her, not enjoying the implication.
"I happen to be the godfather, thank you very much." He grumbled, taking one of the glasses Padma had brought and sinking into it.
Hermione didn't even bother to current Blaise's assumption. It wasn't exactly the time.
"So…" Padma looked back at Hermione. She blinked a few more times. "…who's the father?"
Hermione licked her lips nervously and glanced at her hands. She'd actually thought that part was going to be obvious considering the evening's dramatics, but clearly, the concept of Draco being her child's father was just that obscure. She felt Draco shift beside her, either amused or annoyed at being passed over so quickly. Just as Hermione was about to look at Draco, Padma let out a tiny gasp and leaned forwards.
"It's not Ronald, is it? Please tell me it's not Ron, Hermione."
Hermione scrunched her face in distaste.
"Eugh," she said, "no. Absolutely not."
Draco, tense beside her, let out an annoyed noise that closely resembled a growl. Padma sighed,
"Oh, thank Merlin." She said, holding a hand up to her head. "At least… wait, why are you annoyed at that, Malfoy?"
She looked at Hermione, then at Draco, then back at Hermione. They looked at each other, a guilty glance that spoke volumes. Padma's mouth dropped again.
"Oh." She said. "Oh."
Padma stared into her drink for a second and then back up at the non-couple. She waved a finger between the two of them.
"So that's what's going on? Tonight, I mean, with the crying and the yelling and the hushed conversations."
Hermione shrugged,
"Sort of. Just a misunderstanding, we're ok now. Friends." She didn't particularly want to relive the humiliation or the many feelings she'd had about Draco talking to another woman. They were friends, that's all, Hermione was already trying to stifle any other considerations.
"Padma," Hermione asked as Padma stared keenly into her butterbeer, a hand on either side of her temple. "Are you alright?"
"Just… give me a moment." Padma muttered. She leant back in the seat and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes.
She mumbled to herself and twitched her fingers as if trying to figure out an impossible calculation. One pregnant Hermione + Draco as a father = X. If Padma was good at anything, it was the mathematical concepts of romance, seduction and ill-fated sex scandals. She'd quashed enough in her line of work. Her hands stilled, eyes dropping from the ceiling.
"Oh, sweet Circe." Padma said, "This is because you didn't wear knickers under the dress, isn't it?"
Hermione didn't get the chance to answer when Blaise spat butterbeer across the table with a roar of laughter. Hermione jumped, glancing at him then at Draco. Despite the shock, there was a magnificent smirk across his face.
"Wipe that look off your face Draco." Hermione scowled him.
Draco snorted at her irritation, then broke into a hearty laugh as Padma nodded slowly across the table.
"I knew it," Padma said in a hushed voice.
Hermione groaned. This was not how she was expecting this conversation to go. Padma shook her head.
"I think," she said, "I'm going to need the full story now because there is still a whole lot missing between the knickers and tonight."
Hermione bit her lip.
"Fine." She said and lifted her wand. She wasn't going to take the chance that someone might overhear them. A small party had just arrived and was seated in the middle of the pub, should they listen carefully they might overhear the tale Hermione wished she didn't have to tell. "Muffliato."
"Start from the beginning." Padma smiled, shuffling to get comfortable and palming her butterbeer with both hands. Blaise too shifted his attention, looking amused as Hermione blushed.
"You know the start, Padma. You brought me the bloody dress."
Blaise chuckled,
"It was a good dress." He said fondly.
"Oi," Draco growled over the table.
Blaise shrugged at him,
"I thought you were just friends."
Draco's jaw set firmly, and he glared at his friend across the table. Hermione ignored them both. She looked at Padma and began to explain. Padma obviously knew Hermione's intentions going to the Gala, but she described them anyway, then awkwardly told how she and Malfoy had devised the revenge plot of entertaining the press.
"…and then," Hermione smirked, "Draco decided to be very mature and hid from Blaise."
Blaise gave a dramatic gasp,
"You mean he wasn't getting drinks?"
Hermione rolled her eyes at him, and Draco snorted, clearly, none of them had believed her terrible lie. Hermione shrugged; it didn't seem like Draco sneaking away from his speeches was an uncommon occurrence.
"Hush, Blaise." Hermione muttered, "Anyway, then we went down to the cellar and then,"
Hermione paused, it was all very well and good to explain how they'd decided to torment Ron but she most certainly about to give any detailed to precisely what had happened after that.
"And then," Hermione blushed and looked up at Draco. He was watching her, a smirk on his face and eyes darkened as he sipped his butterbeer. He knew precisely 'what then'.
"Then fire whisky." He said for her.
Hermione gulped, unable to look away from Draco's face. She could feel the heat building under her collar, trying not to remember the intimate details of the evening unsuccessfully.
"And… and then," Hermione stuttered and felt the like her face was on fire.
Padma was leaning forward, smirking and eyes enraptured.
"And then, sex," Draco purred across the table.
Hermione closed her eyes, trying to will her face to calm.
"And then, uh," she muttered.
"And then more sex," Draco said, shoulders bouncing as he chuckled.
Hermione's eyes flashed open, and she smacked him on the arm.
"Draco!" She hissed, while Padma and Blaise laughed.
"What?" Draco laughed, "I thought we were giving them the full story?"
Hermione groaned,
"I think you can skip a few details." Hermione looked over the table at Padma, "And then a couple of weeks later, I found out I was pregnant."
Draco snorted, leaning back and draping one arm over the back of the seat above Hermione's shoulder.
"Four details," He said smugly, "She's skipping four 'details' if you were curious."
Hermione glared at him. Draco smiled at her innocently as Padma coughed into her drink.
"Four," she gasped, "Four more…. Ah, details?"
Blaise gaffed, and made a lewd sign that made Padma's eyes widen and Blaise snorted,
"Blimey. Sure, it's not twins then, Hermione?"
Hermione glared over the table at him, feeling the need to explain that was not how it worked. This was ridiculous. All of this was ridiculous. All three of her companions chuckled into their butterbeer while Hermione avoided her own glass.
"Then I found out I saw pregnant, told Draco, went to St Mungo's, and we decided to just be friends. The End." Hermione folded her arms across her chest and glared as the other three laughed. "Very mature, the bloody lot of you."
The hand Draco had draped over the back of the seat, nudged her shoulder lightly.
"I'm sorry," he grinned ruthlessly, "I thought this was what you wanted? Friends tease each other, right?"
Hermione glared back at him, even as two fingers petted her shoulder. She eventually sighed. Despite how embarrassing this all was Hermione had to admit it was still better than the cold person from the past week. She wrinkled her nose at him—bloody Slytherin.
Padma wheezed at them, clearly enjoying the story.
"I'm sorry, Hermione." She said, trying to compose herself. "So, what about tonight?"
Hermione bit her lip; it was easy to laugh about the past, but this was a little fresh. Draco lost his smirk and tensed beside her.
"I, uh," Draco said awkwardly, staring into his glass. "that was my fault."
Hermione looked up at him,
"It was a misunderstanding." She said lightly, "We're fine now, back to being friends."
Padma raised an eyebrow, but Hermione gave her the tiniest shake of the head. Padma nodded.
"So, I take it," Padma said, "you weren't just upset about Ron earlier?"
"The Weasel?" Draco said next to her, a deep frown furrowing on his face the mention of Hermione's ex-husband. "What's that freckle-head done now?"
Draco's hand resumed tracing small, unnoticeable circles on her shoulder. Blocked from the rest of the pub she didn't bother to tell him the way it stirred something past her naval that might have been bordering the more-than-friends line. Friends could be affectionate, Hermione reasoned to herself, she and Padma held hands and hugged frequently. This wasn't all that different, was it?
Padma shot a look at Hermione, worried she'd overstepped by mentioning Ron. Hermione shrugged one shoulder, not the one Draco was touching in case he thought she was trying to get rid of him.
"Uh," Padma said, "Lavender is in labour at the moment."
Blaise snorted while Draco went tense. Blaise, who clearly already knew, didn't need to do the mental maths. Draco, after a moment of pause, stared at Hermione. She avoided eye contact and looked at Padma.
"I'm fine." Hermione said, "Honestly, Ronald doesn't phase me nearly as much as you'd think."
Draco's hand pressed against her shoulder, firmer this time. She forced herself to look at him. When Hermione did, she found his eyes enraged, the dark grey of his eyes intense as he opened his mouth.
"Honestly," Hermione said earnestly again, interrupting him. She pressed her leg against Draco's, hoping he would know she was okay.
Draco closed his mouth again, but with the palm of his hand, he pushed Hermione along the seat, until her leg was pressed firmly against his and she was tucked under Draco's arm. He put his arm carefully back on the bench but Hermione could feel his warmth, pressed to her side. Hermione gulped, staring at the table, this was still on the right side of the line, right?
"What I'd like to know," Blaise said, covering the moment. "Is how the Weasel managed to keep that out of the Prophet?"
Hermione shrugged; she'd wondered the same thing.
"A very handsome bag of galleons is my guess," Padma said.
Blaise frowned, looking at his glass then back at Hermione.
"You know," he said, "I've a few contacts at the Prophet, Hermione, I'm sure I could put in a word or two about our dear friend Ronald."
Draco snorted, and Hermione elbowed him. She might have disliked Ron for his behaviour, but she wasn't about to sink to that level.
"Thank you for the offer, Blaise, but it's fine."
Blaise pursed his lips but shrugged.
"The offer still stands, should you ever change your mind."
Hermione smiled at him; she appreciated the intention. Even if it was terribly Slytherin.
"Pads, you could use a few inside men at the Prophet." Hermione smiled at her friend.
Padma raised her eyebrows with a snort.
"I'd need more than a few."
Blaise turned to her curiously.
"Oh," he said, "Is Miss Patil a little less innocent than she appears?"
"Oh god." Padma said, "It's not for me. It's for my work."
Blaise shifted, turning himself until he was facing her.
"Do tell." He said.
Padma bit her lip, thinking for a moment.
"Ok," she said, "but I'm changing all the names and personal details, this is not a story to be retold."
Blaise held up his hand,
"Wizards honour, but wait," He looked around the table, all butterbeer now finished except for Hermione's. "I think we're going to need another round."
Blaise clambered out of the booth before anyone could protest, managing to get past Padma smoothly as he flashed her a grin. Blaise smacked Draco's shoulder.
"Move it, Malfoy. Help me get these ladies some drinks." He waggled his eyebrows at them as he spoke, and Hermione rolled her eyes at him.
Draco huffed but followed his friend. Padma, as the men departed, leaned over the table to Hermione.
"Hermione Granger, I cannot believe you didn't tell me about this sooner." She chided her with a smile.
Hermione blushed,
"I, uh, didn't know how to tell you. I promise I would have soon."
"You'd better," Padma said, leaning back. "Oh, and I want all the details of the…. details later. Merlin, was it good? I bet it was good, look at him. And what's with all this friends business, that man is clearly-"
Padma was cut off as Blaise's voice came drifting back to the table.
"It doesn't matter if you cut my pay, you know you'll just end up giving me another raise after the next Gala dinner you skip out on."
Blaise and Draco reached the table once more, Blaise still looking jovial but Draco had a dark scowl on his face. He placed a glass of Gillywater in front of Hermione as he slid back into the booth, then quickly repositioned his arm. He also called Blaise some choice names as he sipped on a glass of fire whisky.
"Why are you threatening Blaise's wages this time?" Hermione asked, they honestly had an odd friendship.
"Blaise, here, has decided to inform me that I have to be in France tomorrow," Draco said darkly.
"Well I wasn't about to tell you yesterday, you would've thrown me out of the bloody building in your mood."
Draco glared at him but didn't deny it.
"Oh," Hermione muttered, something inside of her sinking a little. "For how long?"
"It's a week-long business symposium. There are some lucrative deals that Malfoy Industries is trying to secure, except they won't sign without the man himself," Blaise nodded to Draco, "being present."
Hermione chewed her lip slightly. A week. He'd be gone for a whole week when it seemed they'd just started talking again. Don't cry, Hermione, she told herself, do not freaking cry right now. Hermione nodded at Blaise, shoving the Gillywater to her mouth to cover the painful feeling of needing to cry that flooded her body.
Draco, his body, again pressed against hers, tensed and shook his head.
"No, Blaise." He said, no longer angry but still serious. "I'm not going for a week, I have to be back by Tuesday."
Draco's fingers pressed reassuringly on Hermione's shoulder again. Tuesday. Merlin, Hermione had forgotten. They had their appointment at St Mungo's on Tuesday, she'd been nine weeks by then. Hermione looked up at Draco, he'd actually remembered. Damn, do not cry you silly, hormonal bint.
Blaise let out a huff, frowning in annoyance at his boss.
"Draco, we've been working on this deal for months. You can't just not-"
"Blaise," Draco said sternly, sounding far more like a boss than a friend. "I said no. I'll get the contract signed and be back before Tuesday."
"What's so bloody special about Tuesday?" Blaise huffed.
Hermione looked up, wondering if she was right or if there was just something else Draco needed to do on Tuesday. Draco eyes lowered to her, a gentle smile tugging on his lips.
"There's a little speck I need to be there for." He murmured.
Hermione couldn't help the smile on her face, she had to glance down at her hands, trying to compose the giddy grin that wanted to break free.
"You don't have to." Hermione said, feeling a little guilty, "If you need to be in France, I can go by myself."
Draco frowned,
"No." He said firmly, "I said I'd be there, and I'm not going to back on my word."
Hermione grinned but didn't say anything. She was too scared to look up him again, nervous that if she did, she might react the same another time he'd proclaimed his dedication to their child. Hermione didn't know why Draco being so determined to care about their child made her heart flutter, but last time it had resulted in Hermione losing a pair of knickers. Snogging Draco's brains out in her office and losing complete control over her emotions, she needed to not go down that road again. Instead, she just bumped her leg against his hoping he would understand her tiny gesture of gratitude. Blaise, who'd obviously been watching their interaction, shrugged. He ignored the way Draco watched Hermione.
"What exactly," Padma asked, "Were you planning on doing if his bad mood hadn't ended?"
Blaise smirked,
"My back up plan was to get my dear boss here so drunk he'd pass out and then port keying him to France. Might have been a little miffed when he woke up but he'd have a whole week to get over it."
Padma laughed, and Blaise turned his attention to her.
"Now," he said, "I believe I'm owed a scandalous story, Miss Patil."
Padma rolled her eyes at him and launched into the retelling of an old work story, one highly amusing but not likely to cause any problems should it be retold. Draco's hand began tracing circles on Hermione's arm once more as they listened.
Almost four hours, multiple mugs of butterbeer and a few glasses of fire whiskey later and all three of Hermione's companions were thoroughly drunk. Hermione giggled as Blaise, arms waving expressively, told Padma about the time he'd had to stop a French businessman from accidentally engaging a muggle prostitute on a business trip. Padma wheezed like she'd consumed far too much giggle water and almost fell off the seat entirely.
Hermione was enjoying herself. Even sober, she could enjoy the evening's long tales, almost constant mockery and the proximity of Draco. This is the friendship she'd wanted. Draco, Padma and Blaise had teased her for her old tendency to wave her hand wildly at Hogwarts and had only stopped when Hermione had redirected the conversation to Draco's very dramatic Hippogriff altercation. It was pleasant, even when they touched close to old rivalries and insults, they'd been able to laugh at their former selves. The entire time Draco had kept Hermione close to his side, subtle affections making her heart beat faster.
Finally, Hermione's stomach rumbled loudly, interrupting one of Blaise's stories.
"Hungry?" Draco asked her quietly, the word a little slurred behind the fire whisky.
She nodded, they'd never gotten around to dinner, and now she realised it was a mistake. The kitchen of the Leaky Cauldron had closed hours ago, and most of Wizarding London didn't open late on a weeknight.
"You know," Hermione said slyly, "I think there's an excellent chippy near here, on the muggle side."
Draco groaned. Hermione wondered if Draco Malfoy had ever stepped foot onto the muggle side of London, most likely he'd avoided it his entire life, presuming there couldn't be anything better than the wizarding world he knew. Hermione grinned up at him until Draco sighed and rolled his eyes.
"The things I do for you, woman." He muttered. Draco waved his hand across the table, struggling to draw the attention of Padma and Blaise, still deep in conversation. "Oi, you two. How do you feel about an adventure?"
"Oh," Padma said excitedly, "Where?"
"Food for the pregnant witch," Draco said. Hermione was incredibly grateful that their Muffliato charm was still buzzing quietly in the background.
"Is it to the Chippy?" Padma asked, "Their mushy peas are the best."
Draco wrinkled his nose and looked at Hermione. She'd introduced Padma to the muggle establishment over a year ago, and they often wandered back there if their Wednesday drinks went late. It was Hermione's favourite drunk food and apparently now, as her stomach growled again at the thought, one of her pregnancy cravings.
"Mushy peas?" Draco asked in disgust.
Hermione laughed,
"They're amazing, I promise."
Despite Draco's prominent resignation, both to muggle London and mushy peas, they all piled out of the booth and Hermione corralled the drunk little group to the front entrance of the Leaky Cauldron.
On their way out she avoided the looks from the only other remaining group in the pub, a collection of excited young witches and wizards. Hermione frowned at the one brown hair wizard that watched her curiously. Nosey gits, she thought. She was aware that their little group was a strange mix for anyone that knew her but at least in muggle London they wouldn't be recognised.
Hi, me again.
Again (hello the broken record) thank you so much to everyone who left kudos or a comment, I know there's a lot of angsty rage at the moment but I still love seeing your reactions so in-depth! Your pain may also make me giggle a little- wait, what, I'd never say that, I'm an angel ?
Oh, and I hope you guys didn't mind how incredibly dialogue-heavy this chapter was, I know it's basically one long conversation so hopefully, it didn't drag.
Until next time,
Nif.