A/N: Story written for Dramione FanFiction Writers 2020 Challenge. Every month there will be new prompts given, so the goal is to post a new chapter to this story by the end of each month. For January, I chose the prompt "New Years Resolutions." Beta thanks to dormiensa and dreamsofdramione!
HINDSIGHT
Saturday, 31 DECEMBER
Hermione Granger was a planner.
She liked color-coded schedules and cross-referenced tables and mile-long to-do lists. She liked multi-colored pens and ink, sticky-tabs, and three-ring binders. Since she could remember, she'd organized things—her books, her closet, her schedule—and with few exceptions, she'd managed to stick to her plans. One notable deviation being when she'd been unable to attend Hogwarts for her seventh year on schedule. Really, though, helping Harry to rid the world of the megalomaniac that was Voldemort had provided her with many opportunities she wouldn't otherwise have had, so she didn't consider it a setback. In many ways, it sped some things along, despite stalling some of her carefully laid educational plans.
The war had been over for seven years, however, and most things were moving right on track. She had a job she (mostly) adored—working for the Department for the Regulation and Care of Magical Creatures—friends she loved, a prime studio flat in London overlooking the Thames, and her social calendar was always full.
It was New Year's Eve, and though she had a party to attend, she was still at her desk at the Ministry at quarter past nine. The following day was a holiday, but she'd wanted to peek ahead at what would be facing her once she returned to work.
There must have been some part of her unconscious brain that had avoided looking past individual dates to see the full month all at once. It was very full. In fact, as she glanced at her calendar for January, she saw a lot of things written into the boxes. Upon much closer inspection, she was struck with the idea that it might be too full. She frowned. Every weekend in January was packed: outings with friends, Ministry events, charity functions, and an assortment of odds and ends that would leave her with no time for herself. Most nights of the week she had some sort of commitment as well, between dinners with friends, committee meetings, and various interest groups she was part of—her monthly book club, for example.
She flipped back through her planner, going over the months that had passed, growing more dismayed by the page at how full her life had been.
There was no problem with all of the things she'd done, per se; the problem was that she felt drained—completely and utterly empty. The thought of what January held for her made her want to crawl under a rock and sleep for a month, to hide from the world and everybody in it. She shouldn't be dreading a New Year's Eve party at the Leaky Cauldron, hosted by Neville and Hannah, surrounded by two hundred of her closest friends, right?
A shadow fell across her desk and Hermione started.
"Hey, Hermione." Harry leaned against her desk, his outer cloak draped over one arm.
She let out a shaky breath, forcing herself to smile at him. "Hi, Harry." She set her calendar down but left it open, her eyes darting to it every few seconds.
"You going to be ready for tonight?" He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "It's supposed to be even bigger than last year."
"Yes," she replied, though she had a sudden desire to skip it.
"I'll see you there." He wrapped his cloak around his shoulders. "Don't be here too late, I know you get caught up in what you're doing." He gave her a lopsided, very Harry grin. She kept the smile plastered on her face, fighting the urge to rip up the calendar right then and there. "Oh," he continued after taking a step toward the door. "Draco is coming after all. He wasn't sure if his mother wanted him home, but he said she's decided last minute to join a cousin in France."
Hermione nodded automatically, the kernel of a plan forming in her mind. She waved absently to Harry as he left and focused once more on her calendar. As she flipped through the pages of her planner, she saw that February was likewise full, as was March. April, May, and June had things already penciled in, and she had no doubt that they would follow suit as the year wore on.
So many things she had scheduled were good things; some were fantastic things. Ginny's baby shower in March she absolutely wouldn't miss for the world. The Quidditch match in May with her friends was a given, too, but with everything before her, there was little to no time for herself—to say nothing of a relationship. And as good as everything was—her job, her friends, her life—there was still something missing. She'd been feeling it for a while, an ache whenever she was with her friends who were married or in a serious relationship. Even her friends who were busy dating still seemed to have a glow about them that she knew she was lacking.
Hermione sighed heavily. She hadn't dated anyone seriously since her relationship with Ron had ended five years before. She'd gone on dates, of course, and she had a few men she called if she needed a date for an event, but there had been nothing substantial. How could she possibly have time for something with her schedule? If she went on a date in early January, the next possible opening would be… late March. How could she hope to have any kind of relationship that way?
And she wanted a relationship. She wanted to fall in love. She'd always meant to do it, but in all her prioritizing, it kept getting pushed down. Other things crept in or barged in and she had never made time for it. Now, five years after her last serious boyfriend, there was simply no room.
Her heart started pounding as she stared hard at January for a few more moments. It would be difficult; she hated disappointing people. But whenever she started wavering, thinking she could get by only cancelling a few things, she felt the dread creep in. No; she needed to make a clean cut, leaving only those things that she knew would bring her the most joy. Then, she nodded resolutely to herself and started packing up her things.
Thus far, she hadn't met the man of her dreams at Ministry events, committee meetings, or charity dinners. There was nothing for it; something had to shift. She would attend this last party of the year with Harry and Ron and then she would make some changes.
ooo
Friday, 6 JANUARY
Within a week, Hermione had significantly cut down her commitments over the coming few months. There was mostly white space in her calendar now, punctuated with a few necessary appointments, and it truly made her smile. There was one event, however, that she was on the fence about. Draco Malfoy had invited her to join him for a charity fundraiser being hosted by the foundation he and his mother had started shortly after their post-war trials concluded.
Narcissa had swept onto the recovery scene, reminding Hermione of Florence Nightingale in the way she seemed to be everywhere, helping anyone who would let her. She'd volunteered at St. Mungo's, given her time to rebuilding Hogwarts, sent Galleon after Galleon to worthy causes, including funding scholarships for children who'd lost a parent—or two—in the war. She'd joined many recovery groups, but after a few short months decided that she'd rather run things herself, and she had become the foremost advocate for change amongst the Pureblood Elite.
Hermione had been skeptical at first, then suspicious, then flabbergasted, then amazed by the woman's work. When Narcissa had reached out to her, very publicly and sincerely, to apologize and attempt to make amends, Hermione had welcomed the gesture. Narcissa had tried to give something to Hermione, but she had insisted that Narcissa donate her resources elsewhere, and the older witch had acquiesced, donating to Hermione's cause of choice.
It had been the start of a surprising friendship between them.
Now the Malfoy Foundation was preparing to host a fundraiser for research into the long-term effects of Cruciatus exposure. Hermione naturally had strong feelings about the cause, but it was scheduled to take place the same weekend as two other events she simply couldn't get out of, so she was on her way to the office Draco shared with Harry. She hoped he would take it well and not be too put out with the late notice.
When she arrived, she was relieved to find Draco alone. He was bent over his desk, fringe hanging down as he wrote furiously on what looked to her like a case report. She rapped sharply on the doorframe. "I'm so sorry to interrupt," she said, approaching his desk.
He smiled and set the report aside, waving to indicate that she should sit, which she did. "It's no interruption. What's on your mind?"
Hermione bit her lip and hesitated. Now that she was here, sitting in front of him, his expression one of patient anticipation, she wavered. Should she cancel on him? She knew he'd have no trouble finding someone to join him. Narcissa would probably be disappointed, but she couldn't get out of a formal dinner Friday night for her boss' birthday, and she had already committed to watching Harry and Ginny's two-year-old Saturday morning while they went out on their first date in over four months. The fundraiser was Saturday night, and she knew she'd be exhausted after taking care of a toddler all morning.
"Hermione?" Draco frowned slightly. "Is everything all right?"
"Oh, yes," she said quickly, deciding to trust the decision she'd already made. "I'm sorry. I wanted to speak with you about the fundraiser coming up in a few weeks."
Draco nodded, folded his arms over his chest, and sat back in his chair. "I'm listening."
She clasped her hands in her lap and smiled half-heartedly. "Well, it's just that, I've decided to lighten my schedule. You could call it a New Year's Resolution of sorts. I was beginning to dread even looking at my calendar, it was so full, and I've been working to trim as many things as possible. And the weekend of the fundraiser, I've got two other things I simply can't cancel. As much as I want to be there, I need you to find someone else to go with you." She rushed out the last part, hoping that he wouldn't be too put out with her for not giving him more notice. The fundraiser was only three weeks away.
He stared at her, expression impassive, for what felt like an eternity. "You… want me to… find someone else?"
Hermione nodded. "I know you asked me as a favor to your mother, but I've just sent her an owl to let her know I can't make it. Honestly, it's not like anybody will miss me. My name isn't on the program, I'm not a huge draw for any of the donors who will be in attendance. I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding another escort."
Draco frowned slightly, his eyes rapidly searching hers. "I… Did I do something? Or, did someone say something…" He trailed off, obviously confused.
"Oh! No, certainly not. It's really exactly as I said. I found myself quite overscheduled and needed to make some changes. You should see what my calendar looked like before. It was practically choking to death." She tried to smile at him, but his intense expression was unsettling.
"And you believe I can simply… find someone to take your place."
At this, she almost laughed. "Of course! You're… you know, you. Wizarding England's Most Eligible Bachelor, three years running, not that anyone's counting. If you can't find a woman to stand beside you at this prestigious event, then there's no hope for any of us!"
Draco continued to stare at her, and she couldn't figure out why. Was he upset? Was he already mentally going through his list of contacts, making a top three selection of whom he might ask? Was he thinking about what he would eat for lunch?
Finally, he spoke after a sigh. "Did it ever occur to you that I had wanted you, specifically, to join me?"
Hermione blinked, her mind flailing to find the most logical conclusion. She laughed lightly. "Well, I know I'm usually at the events, but I've helped your mother as much as possible already. I don't have any big roles for this event, so considering the timing with the other things that weekend… it made the most sense to me. I know having me there would help your mother and the fundraising efforts, and I know how much this means to her, and by extension, what it means to you as well. I'm sure there will be no trouble achieving your goals for the evening. The work Narcissa is doing is the true hero of the event. You shouldn't need my name or presence to raise funds. If anything, my absence might help things, if you know what I mean." She grinned, hoping to lighten the mood, but the furrow of his brow only deepened.
He sighed and sat up, clasping his hands and leaning on his desk. "I see. Thank you." With barely a glance in her direction, he pulled the report he'd been working on when she'd arrived back in front of him, sat up straight, and dipped his quill in the nearest ink well.
Hermione felt oddly dismissed. "I… Well, I know what a difficulty this could be. I am very sorry to leave you without a date on such short notice."
Without lifting his eyes from his paper, he said, "As you yourself mentioned, only moments ago, I should have no trouble finding a replacement. There's no need for you to concern yourself further."
She waited, watching the quill scratch across the surface of the parchment. She typically loved the sound; it was usually rougher than paper, especially Ministry-issued parchment, and she found the rough pull of the metal tip over its surface soothing. Only now, it felt harsh.
The quill paused. "Was there something else?"
Hermione stood, feeling troubled. "Actually, Draco, there is." Once he'd looked up at her, his expression blank, she said, before she could think or talk herself out of it, "Let me know if you can't find someone. It's rather short notice for an event like this, after all, and I have a dress already, so if nothing works out, do let me know. I'd be happy to join you."
His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind."
Once she was safely back in her own office, Hermione let out a shaky breath. The whole interaction with Draco had been… odd. She was thankful Harry hadn't been there; she couldn't imagine having that conversation in front of him, even though he knew all about her efforts to scale back her commitments. On the other hand, if he'd been there, it might have gone more smoothly.
She shook it off, determined not to think about anything but her current assignment for the rest of the day.
ooo
Saturday, 28 JANUARY
Hermione scanned the cafeteria, looking for Harry. It was their tradition: every Friday, when he wasn't on assignment, they had lunch together. The venue often changed. Some days they went out, sometimes they packed lunches, others they ate in the cafeteria. They usually chose this option when they were both busy and didn't have a lot of time, but no matter what, they ate together, even if they only had fifteen minutes to spare.
He waved from a large table in the corner where he was sandwiched between two other groups of people. Hermione squeezed into the seat across from him, amused at their situation. She cast a quick Muffliato so that they could talk without worrying about being overheard, despite their cramped quarters.
"Busy day?" Harry asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.
Hermione nodded. "Very. I'll be lucky to get out of here in time to get ready for tonight."
Harry frowned. "What's tonight again?"
"I have to go to dinner with my department. It's Bottleby's birthday, remember? He likes to make a big deal out of it." She rolled her eyes. "I mean, really. At some point, you just shouldn't require everyone around you to fawn over the reality that you've lived another year. I would normally use work as an excuse to be late or miss altogether, but I can't exactly do that when it's in honor of the boss, can I?" She shook her head. "How about you? How was your week?"
"Good. Slow, but that's all right. Draco and I had some paperwork to catch up on. He can't stand to let something sit too long." Harry shrugged. "I can't really complain. We have the best completion rate of any partnership in the department."
Hermione—and their other friends—had been stunned to learn that Draco Malfoy had not only completed his N.E.W.T.s, attended Auror training, and worked for the Ministry, but he had also achieved near perfect scores on the exams, finished top of his Auror recruiting class, and had been specifically requested by Harry for a partner. The two had gone through something during Draco's training, in which Harry had played a role, and they'd bonded quickly.
Slowly, in the three years since becoming Harry's partner, Draco had become part of their extended friend group. He wasn't always present, he rarely went to The Burrow, and he was often reserved, but his presence wasn't awkward. He fit in well enough whenever he was around. Hermione had enjoyed a handful of deep conversations with him over the years, and she had gotten to know him separately through her friendship with his mother. However, they rarely interacted whenever she was at his childhood home, showing up only when duty required his presence for functions.
Still, he always had a smile for her and something witty to say, and she considered him someone worth getting to know better. He, however, stayed rather closed off and didn't seem interested in letting anyone in.
"Remember that case about a year ago? The Jabberknoll?" Harry's eyes twinkled. "The hours of paperwork on that one sent Draco into a snit."
Hermione smiled. "How could I forget?"
Harry chuckled at the memory. "We show up to that warehouse and it sounds like someone is being murdered or tortured or both. Draco and I draw our wands, trying to hold you back."
"But I knew the sound was that of the Jabberknoll, a bird about to die and expelling its death-knell. You wouldn't listen when I insisted it was harmless."
"In the end, we barely caught the bloke illegally exporting the birds because you and Draco got into such a fabulous row about it." Harry pointed his fork at her. "He wasn't wrong, you know."
Hermione huffed. "He wasn't right, either, Harry. I knew what I was talking about. It was birds screaming."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't change the fact that, to begin with, there were still dangerous people about, as we were after smugglers who had been known to be violent, and second, it is Ministry protocol that whenever there's cooperation between departments—"
"I know, I know," she interrupted impatiently. "The Aurors are responsible for securing the scene before other agencies can move in. But Harry..." She fixed him with her most penetrating stare. "You know that I can handle myself."
"Hermione." His tone was patient and tentative, as though he was afraid of poking the beast. "I know. You know I know. Draco knows. The whole bloody world knows, but things happen. And if something happens to you when we don't follow protocol, everybody loses."
Hermione opened her mouth to speak again but then shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for us to hash this out again. I promise I know. And I respect you and I understand why the rules are in place."
"Trust me," he said, stabbing at his last green bean. "You are not the only person who gets frustrated with the red tape. I think one reason I still even have my job is because Draco is so adamant about following every rule to the letter. Probably has something to do with not wanting to risk another stint in Azkaban."
"Oh! Speaking of your partner..." Hermione looked at him pointedly. "Who did he find to go with him tomorrow night?"
Harry gave her a funny look. "He isn't going with anyone."
Hermione's eyes widened. "What? I told him to tell me if he didn't find somebody!"
"Did you expect him to simply comply?" Harry chuckled. "I thought you knew him better than that. You know he doesn't make things easy. Especially on himself."
Hermione frowned. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure?"
Harry nodded. "I asked him."
"That's so strange! I wonder why he didn't contact me about it." Hermione considered going straight up to his office.
"I don't know, but I've got to run." He gathered his trash onto his tray and stood. "Draco and I have a full afternoon of meetings. I almost wish something terrible would happen so we could get out of it." He paused and gave her a lopsided grin. "Almost. Good lunch as always! See you!"
"Later." She waved absently. As she finished her last few bites of lunch, she pondered the situation with Draco. She'd given him plenty of time, she'd told him she'd go if for some reason he couldn't find someone…
Well, she did have a dress already, so she would simply have to make it work.
ooo
Sunday, 29 JANUARY
At half past six, Hermione knocked on the door of Draco's flat. After a few long seconds, he opened it, a confused expression on his face.
"Er, hi?"
She smiled. "Hullo! Harry told me you didn't have a date for tonight. I told you I'd go with you if you couldn't find someone, so here I am." She executed a very small, wobbly curtsey. "Ta-da." When he only stared at her, she motioned toward his flat. "May I come in?"
"Oh. Right," he mumbled, opening the door wide.
She entered his flat for the first time in her life, trying to peek at everything without appearing too curious. Her gaze landed on him. He had on black trousers that fit just so, a perfectly crisp, white shirt with cufflinks, and it looked as though he'd been in the middle of putting on his tie. "Shouldn't you be getting ready?"
He rolled his eyes. "I was, you know, before you showed up. I'll… just go and finish."
Hermione nodded and watched him disappear into what she assumed was his bedroom. Once his door closed, she spun to examine the room more closely. It was warmer than she'd expected, instantly putting her at ease. A rich, yet comfortable looking leather chair sat near the fireplace, which was flanked by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The chair looked well-worn, and beside it sat a small table that was piled with books. Another, lower table sat near the chair, and it was covered with what she guessed were case files and other papers related to work. Curiosity got the better of her, and she stepped closer to the nearest bookshelf. Her eyes flitted over the spines, and she was so engrossed that she didn't notice him reenter the room until he cleared his throat.
Hermione jumped at the sound, then laughed lightly at herself as she turned around. Draco had put on a suit jacket with dark lapels—she wasn't sure if they were made from velvet or silk—and he had a heavy cloak in his hands that appeared to be lined with dark gray wool. Hermione blinked, struck with the fleeting thought that he looked… Well, he'd always been objectively pleasing to look at. Since the war, though, he'd somehow managed to not stand out in that way—at least in his day to day life. She'd seen him dressed up plenty of times at Malfoy Foundation functions, but this was the first time she'd really noticed how attractive he was.
"Shall we go?" she asked, avoiding eye contact.
He sighed heavily, clasping the cloak at his collar. "Why are you here? And how do you know where I live?"
"Harry gave me your address. It was lucky I had lunch with him yesterday, because he was the one who told me you didn't have anyone to go with tonight." She rounded on him, eyes sparkling playfully. "Speaking of which, why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to respect your wishes to clear your schedule." He took a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fire. "Malfoy Manor! I knew you had a full weekend already."
She joined him in front of the fire, watching his face closely. She could read nothing in his expression, but his words had been almost tender. "I appreciate that," she said softly. "I really do."
"After you," he muttered, motioning toward the green flames.
As soon as she stepped from the fireplace, she was dazzled by the sparkling beauty before her. She'd been in the Malfoy Traveling Room plenty of times, but Narcissa had decorated it to be especially welcoming for the event. Draco quickly appeared behind her and proffered his arm, which she accepted, allowing him to lead her through the Manor to the ballroom.
He made small talk, asking about her week, but almost as soon as they entered the large room, Narcissa spotted her and hurried over.
"Oh, Hermione! I'm so pleased you're here! Draco had told me you wouldn't be able to attend, so this is a lovely surprise." She turned to her son. "Draco, be a dear and fetch me something to drink, would you?" She tucked Hermione's arm in hers and pulled her to one side of the room. "There's someone I'm dying for you to meet."
ooo
Three hours and twenty-two minutes later, most of the guests had left and the last fifty or so were slowly making their way out. Narcissa took time to speak to each and every person as they left, and Hermione watched the woman, in awe of how graceful she remained after so many hours interacting with people. She was more than ready to be home in her pajamas with a good book.
Hermione had barely seen Draco after being whisked away by his mother. They'd shared one dance, but she had spent most of her evening schmoozing with as many wealthy donors as she could. She was talking to three ancient, rich white wizards, all able to donate thousands of Galleons to the Cruciatus research, and all hanging on every word she said. But she was tired of their flirtation, tired of the game, and very tired of her shoes.
"Pardon me," came a voice beside her. She nearly melted with relief. "Would you excuse us?" Draco gently but firmly placed his hand on her arm.
"Oh, of course, Mr. Malfoy, certainly," said the nearest wizard, winking at Draco.
His responding smile was tight as he tugged slightly on her elbow, and she followed gratefully. "Thank you. Your mother never ceases to amaze me. She manages all of this with such patience and grace."
"A lifetime of training and lots of practice. Here, I brought you something to drink." He handed her a flute of champagne.
Hermione beamed at him and accepted the drink, taking a few sips before letting out a sigh. "I think tonight has gone very well. I'm sure your mother will be pleased."
Draco merely grunted and took a sip of his own drink.
She watched a few more people leave. "Did you have a nice time?"
He shrugged. "Nice enough, I suppose. You know how these things are."
"I know they aren't your favorite way to pass the time. It is really so good of you to do it for your mother, though. She's told me more times than I can count how much she appreciates you, how proud she is of you." Hermione glanced at the shrinking crowd, all of them eager to speak with their hostess. "I, for one, am exhausted. I was able to interact with a good number of patrons, perhaps eighty percent of the people here. Of course, you know how much I value the work your mother wants to do, so it was easy to speak highly of her efforts and encourage people to be as generous as possible."
Draco seemed slightly agitated. "You know, Hermione, I didn't invite you—"
"There you are!" Pansy Parkinson whirled into view and put her hand on Hermione's arm, a look of exasperated relief on her face. She was resplendent in a dark purple gown, her long, black hair done up, and held in place with diamond pins. "I've been hoping to catch you all evening! Although I'm glad that it's quieter now. Listen, there's something I need to ask you."
"Pansy." Hermione smiled warmly in greeting. "Of course, what is it?"
Pansy bit her lip and shuffled her feet, seeming suddenly unsure of herself. "Um, well, I was wondering if… You would mind terribly if… The thing is, I don't want to upset you, but… What would you think about…"
"What is it?" Hermione prompted kindly.
"Well, it's just that… You see, um, I'd like your permission to… to date… Ron." She squinted as though expecting Hermione to literally explode.
It was a long few seconds before Pansy's words really sunk in. "Ron? OH! Wow, really? I mean, of course it's all right with me. Why wouldn't it be? That's… That's wonderful. How did this happen?"
Pansy seemed unsure of what to think still. "Do you remember when we all went bowling eight months ago?"
Hermione gasped. "You've been seeing him for eight months?"
"Oh, no!" Pansy's laugh sounded forced. "But that night, we ended up on the same lane, and we got to talking, and he's actually really funny. I never knew that before. Over the last few months, we've talked more and more, but we've only been seeing each other for about a month."
Hermione looked at Draco. "Did you know about this?"
He shrugged, kicking at something on the floor and meeting her gaze for a brief instant.
"Of course you did. Did everybody know?"
"No! No, no, no!" Pansy insisted. "Only Draco. And, well—"
"Harry," Hermione supplied.
"And Harry." Pansy sighed. "But that's all. I swear."
"And why didn't you want to tell me?" Hermione was confused and still amazed at the news.
"Ron and I wanted to be sure we had something before announcing it to everyone. We wanted to make sure it was all right with you. That it wouldn't upset you."
Hermione was completely stunned. "Why on earth would you think it would upset me?"
Pansy hesitated and looked to Draco as though for help. "Well, you know, you haven't really dated since you and Ron broke up."
"I've dated!" Hermione protested, though it was only somewhat technically true. She'd gone on a handful of dates with a few men, but nothing more.
"Yes, of course," Pansy said in a rush, "but not seriously. And we thought it best to wait before we told you."
"Wait, we?" Hermione closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. "You mean, you and Ron? You've talked about this?"
"And… Harry." Pansy's expression was a cross between a smile and a grimace.
When Hermione looked expectantly at Draco, he held up his hands. "I was not involved in this at all."
Hermione's hand covered her mouth, eyes flying open in sudden understanding. "Wait just a moment. Are you telling me… Does Ron still think I have feelings for him?"
When Pansy cringed and said nothing, Hermione took Draco's drink out of his hand and downed it. "I needed that more than you." She handed him the empty glass. "I cannot believe that my best friends…" She paused, balling her fists, taking a moment to collect herself. Then she turned to Pansy with as serene an expression as she could muster. "No, Pansy. I am not secretly pining for Ron, nor have I been for these last five years. I can't believe—"
"It wasn't a serious thought," Pansy rushed. "They just weren't sure. Because, as I said, you haven't dated much."
"I've been a little busy." Hermione gritted her teeth, feeling a tad self-conscious.
Pansy's eyes widened. "Of course! Yes, you have nothing to prove or apologize for. Hermione, you are a force, and you can't become one if you also have to worry about the ins and outs of dating."
"Right." Hermione felt unsettled.
"Seriously, Hermione, you are amazing. The things you've accomplished since school are absolutely amazing." She looked to Draco again for support, who remained silent. "Right, Draco?"
His expression told Hermione in no uncertain terms that he had no desire to be in the conversation. But he smiled at Hermione and then at Pansy and said, "I think she knows exactly what she's done and that she doesn't have to defend her choices."
"Thank you." Hermione placed her hand on his arm to stop him. "I appreciate it. You know, I think I'll go and see if your mother needs any help. Excuse me." Without waiting for a response, Hermione hurried across the large room.
When she neared Narcissa, the other woman's smile turned to concern as she took in Hermione's appearance. "Are you all right, dear?"
"I'm not quite sure, really. I just found out that Harry and Ron both thought that I was carrying some sort of torch for Ron, and I… I think I need a moment."
"Of course, dear. Feel free to find a room where you can gather your thoughts. My home is yours." Narcissa patted her arm in a motherly way.
Hermione thanked her and headed for the door to the balcony. She took a few deep breaths and shivered slightly in the cold January air. Her thoughts were whirring. If she'd become a force, as Pansy had said, in part because she hadn't dated since breaking up with Ron, then that was okay. She was happy with her life in many ways, but in the weeks since the New Year, she had found herself a little bit lonely. Her friends all thought she was struggling with her decision to end things with Ron, though she couldn't understand how they could claim to know her and think that she would let her feelings simmer for years without doing or saying something about them. But, really, that was beside the point.
The truth was that she didn't know where to begin. Her calendar was now clear, but over the month of January, she'd discovered that most of her relationships were related to her career. The ones that weren't were old friendships with her classmates from Hogwarts. The empty dates on the calendar had been lovely at first, full of books she'd been longing to read and a few things she'd been wanting to do. But she'd also found herself wistful. The quiet time, the unfilled days and nights, had forced her to confront herself, and she'd realized she was lonely. The blank spaces and the long stretches of time were starting to make her wish that she had someone to share in those empty hours. She'd even wondered if she had filled her time so much as a way of avoiding the fact that she was alone, that she had no one special to share her life with. Most of her friends had married or were dating, but she'd told herself that her career came first. And while she hadn't reached her final goal yet, not by a long shot, she was well on her way.
She wasn't sure how, but just as she had dedicated herself to achieving her goals in her work life, she now resolved to put equal effort into her personal life. If her friends truly thought she still liked Ron, then chances were good that they weren't the only ones.
Hermione was going to put herself out there. She was going to… go places where she could meet someone. She would find out what those kinds of places were—pubs, shops, museums, whatever—and she would go to them. With a determined nod, she went back inside, found Narcissa, and threw herself into the clean-up.
Finally, after one in the morning, everything was finished. Hermione bid goodnight to Narcissa and allowed Draco to walk her to the Traveling Room.
"Well, tonight was… enlightening." She shook her head, throwing Floo powder into the flames. "I'm glad I decided to come after all. Thank you for inviting me to attend with you. It was nicer than coming alone." She grinned. "And then letting me re-invite myself after canceling on you. It was awfully gracious of you."
Draco nodded curtly, his hands in his pockets. He'd unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and his tie hung loosely around his neck. His hair looked as though he'd run his hands through it a few times that evening. He looked relaxed, delightfully disheveled, which she found more alluring than his stiff, formal manners at the start of the evening. "For what it's worth, I didn't think you were still hung up on Weasley."
She smiled, then yawned. "Thank you, Draco. I still can't believe my friends actually thought that was even a possibility."
"They are idiots," Draco remarked.
Hermione laughed. "Well, goodnight." With a small wave, she stepped into the green flames that whisked her away to her flat.