Hindsight

by floorcoaster

It's a New Year and Hermione decides it's time for some changes.

5. May

A/N: There's a section coming up where Hermione and Draco converse through a journal. I hope it's very clear who's talking, but just in case, the bolded parts are Draco writing, and the italicized parts are Hermione.

oOo

Monday, MAY 1

Hermione glanced at her calendar, then at her packing list. She was very excited to leave the following day for Paris. The one hundred and forty-third annual International Conference for Cooperation with Magical Creatures took place over five days and included a whole range of topics, from how to raise Bowtruckles to nurturing Diricawl eggs to safely extracting fallen scales from dragon nests and everything in between. There would be scholarly lectures on growth rates, workshops on proper technique in applying flabbergasted leeches, and round table discussions on the best way to coax a Hippogriff out of a cave.

Needless to say, she couldn't wait. Though, to be honest, she was mostly looking forward to being in Paris, in May, away from work, while the Ministry paid her for her time. She'd even booked an extra night at her hotel to give herself a full day in Paris after the conference concluded.

Other than the conference, there wasn't a whole lot on her calendar. After doing a bit too much in April, she'd scaled back once again until she'd felt like she could breathe. The Quidditch match with her friends—which now included Marcus—was on the second Saturday of May. Beyond that, there was nothing written, and she felt very good about it.

Tuesday, MAY 2

The conference was packed, as per usual. It was Hermione's third trip in as many years representing her department at the event. The previous year a coworker had accompanied her, but this time she was by herself. She couldn't wait to enjoy the whole experience, enjoy Paris, all by herself.

After registering and receiving her packet, Hermione put the name tag lanyard around her neck and made her way into the main auditorium where the conference would officially begin. She was just debating whether she should visit the restroom before it started when someone called her name.

"Hermione?"

She spun around, looking for the source of the voice, and jumped in surprise when she saw Astoria Greengrass waving from a few yards away. The Magizoologist was in a huddle with a few other people, but she quickly disentangled herself from the conversation and made her way toward Hermione.

"It's so great to see you!" Astoria gave Hermione one of those impersonal hugs she imagined every pureblood witch learned by the time they were four.

Her arms were full, so she couldn't return the gesture. "Hello, Astoria. This is a surprise. Are you here for the conference as well?"

Astoria beamed. "Yes! It's my first time. I was asked to give a talk on my experience with the Niffler. They're my favorite, you know."

"That's lovely." Hermione smiled patiently. Hermione wasn't surprised that Astoria's favorite magical creature was attracted to shiny things and excellent at spotting treasure. Then she mentally scolded herself for her uncharitable thoughts. She had no way of knowing why Astoria was so keen on Draco, and it might have nothing whatsoever to do with the gold in his vault.

"Where are you sitting? Could I join you? I don't really know anyone and I feel awfully out of my league among all these really smart people." She tittered like a string of bells.

Hermione just managed to avoid rolling her eyes. "Of course you may. I just arrived, however, and don't have a seat yet."

Astoria linked arms with Hermione and steered her toward the auditorium. "Let's go find seats then, shall we? I think sitting up front would be grand."

They found a pair of open seats about seven rows from the stage and settled in for the opening announcements and lectures. Thankfully, there was no time or space for talking much after things got started. Though she did examine the schedule with Astoria during a short break, where she decided which lectures and workshops to attend.

Astoria really wasn't so terrible. Hermione just felt strange interacting with her when their only connection was Draco—who had very clearly told her that he wasn't interested in Astoria, and whom she'd only recently realized she cared for beyond the boundaries of friendship.

It was a very new experience for her. Every time she thought of him—every time!—she felt that tell-tale swoop in her gut. Whenever anyone mentioned him, she became self-conscious, as though everyone could surely tell that she had feelings for him. She tried her best to squash them, to tell herself—repeatedly and often—that it was ridiculous for her to think about him as anything other than her friend, but her traitorous heart wouldn't listen. It insisted on continuing to flutter when he crossed her mind and speed up at the mention of his name.

What made it even more confusing was that she had similar feelings for Marcus. Naturally, those weren't as complex as what she felt for Draco, considering she hadn't known him very long, but she wasn't sure what to make of her reactions to both men. Sure, she'd fancied more than one person at a time before, but this was something much stronger.

What she had with Draco was so much more than just an uninformed attraction or even a passing acquaintance. She considered him one of her best friends.

And Marcus… He was delightfully intelligent, witty, handsome, and an overall surprisingly positive addition to her life. He made sense in every way, and she was enjoying getting to know him better. She was doing her best to keep her boundaries in place, though she hadn't quite thought through what they would look like in an actual relationship. She maintained that she would only go out on Saturdays, but he'd asked her to dinner a few times during the week, and she'd felt a pang of regret saying no. She could tell she would need to revisit her parameters soon.

When the final lecture of the afternoon ended, Hermione's thoughts were spinning, as they always did when presented with new information. She was anxious to get to her hotel room and sort through her notes.

Astoria was beaming at her. "Hermione, I think we should meet for dinner so we can discuss what we've learned so far."

Hermione nodded with a limp smile. So much for enjoying her time alone.

Wednesday, MAY 3

When she woke the next morning, she took her time getting ready. If the previous evening was any indication, Astoria intended to stick by her side as much as possible. Hermione decided she would order breakfast in her room and even get up a little early to enjoy some time to herself. She'd have to figure out ways to get breaks from Astoria during the day, but at least they were interested in different things.

Still, Hermione needed space to think between sessions, and Astoria seemed to prefer talking through everything she'd just learned.

Her boss had asked that she Floo every morning to give a brief report of her time. By the time she left her room, she was actually five minutes late for the first joint session of the day. Hermione crept into the back of the auditorium and took the first seat she could find. Somehow, Astoria was by her side as soon as she stood to leave.

"Missed you at breakfast." Astoria's smile wavered, as though worried she had done something to upset her.

"I had some things I needed to do, so I ordered food in. You'll probably be on your own for breakfasts, as I have to check in with my boss every morning."

Astoria nodded, relieved. "All right. I'll manage. Where are you headed next?"

ooo

The day flew by and before Hermione knew it, they were announcing a simple mixer for the evening. The conference had reserved an entire restaurant in the magical part of Paris, expanded to accommodate everyone who wished to go. She couldn't decide if she wanted to attend, but it was being held in a lovely part of the city, and she was anxious to walk around. Paris in spring was one of her favorite things. In a moment of goodwill, Hermione invited Astoria to join her.

Astoria blinked. "What do you mean, walk to the restaurant?"

"Yes. They've provided Portkeys for everyone, but I fancy a walk. Though it's a good bit of one, so I was planning to take the Metro most of the way."

"What's the Metro?" Astoria asked with a frown.

Hermione chuckled. "It's the Muggle mass transit system. A series of underground trains throughout the city. I've been on it plenty of times before, we'll be perfectly fine. What do you say?"

Astoria appeared to be genuinely conflicted. "Is it very… Muggle?"

"Yes. Completely." Hermione finished buttoning her lightweight coat and slung her bag across her shoulder. "I've got to get going now if I want to make it in time. Are you coming?"

"Oh, all right." Astoria glanced down at herself. "Should we perhaps change? I think I'd rather put on something different for dinner."

Hermione hesitated. "You're welcome to. How long will it take?"

"Not long at all. I'll be back in five minutes. I'll meet you in the lobby." Astoria hurried away before Hermione could reply. It was a mildly Slytherin thing to do, and it made Hermione smile.

True to her word, Astoria returned just as five minutes expired. She had a light cardigan over one arm and her wand gripped so tightly her knuckles were white.

Hermione gave her a patient smile, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "You can't walk around with that. I promise, you'll be fine."

Half an hour later, they were laughing as they arrived at the restaurant. "That was… fascinating," Astoria said, opening the door for Hermione.

"And look, we made it without incident." She hesitated when the wave of sound hit her through the open door.

"Coming?" Astoria asked, motioning into the building.

"On second thought, I think I'd rather not." Hermione glanced up and down the street. There were a few food offerings, and they were in a popular part of town where she was sure they could find something to eat with very little trouble. "I'm not much in the mood to be around large crowds and lots of noise. I've had enough of that for the day. I'm going to find something else to eat."

"Oh." Astoria looked into the crowded restaurant with something akin to longing, then let the door close. "I'll come with you, then. I don't know anyone in there."

Hermione nodded and started walking toward what she hoped was a Thai place. She was thrilled to discover she'd been right, and after spending a solid five minutes assuring Astoria that she'd be able to find something suitable to eat, ushered the hesitant witch through the door.

It was the kind of place where they ordered at a counter and took their food to a table. Hermione ordered for herself, then helped Astoria find something. Since it was a Muggle place, she also took care of payment. She'd changed some of her Galleons into pounds before leaving England, then into Euros upon her arrival in Paris. Her extra day would be spent largely in Muggle Paris, so she'd certainly need the right currency.

They found a secluded table at the front corner and tucked into their meals. Astoria exclaimed in surprise at how delicious the food was. Hermione tried not to sound too annoyed with her companion's passively prejudiced statements about Muggles, their cuisine, their hygiene, and their manners.

Finally, the food was gone, and Hermione suggested they walk back to their hotel. Astoria wasn't thrilled with the idea but eventually agreed.

After walking for a few minutes in silence, wherein Hermione thrilled at the sights and sounds of the City of Light, Astoria spoke.

"Hermione? May I ask you a question?"

Her tone set off something like a warning bell in Hermione's mind, and she had a sudden, sinking feeling that the real reason Astoria had attached herself was about to be made clear. "Of course. I can't promise to have an answer for you."

Astoria laughed, somewhat nervously. "No, no. I know. It's just… I have to ask."

Dread settled in her gut; of course Astoria would ask about him.

"What is it?" Hermione forced a slightly impatient smile, hoping to convey that she wasn't thrilled with where the conversation was probably headed.

"You're friends with Draco. Right?"

Hermione nodded. "Correct. We've been friends for a few years."

Astoria's brow furrowed and she seemed to be struggling with what exactly to say. Perhaps she'd thought Hermione would jump in and answer her question without needing to be asked, but Hermione had no intention of saying more than absolutely necessary. "Does he… ever talk about me?"

"We mostly talk about foundation things." It wasn't a total lie. "We don't typically get into who we're seeing." Still mostly true. That was a rather new development, and she really wasn't sure what she thought of it. She'd been happy to hear that he hadn't continued to see Astoria, but really, she had no place or cause for such feelings.

"I didn't really expect you to tell me anything, even if he does talk about me." Astoria sighed. "It's just… I had so hoped that he had finally seen me in a new way. You know?" Astoria wrapped her arms around herself as though she could protect herself from the hurt she was feeling. "I've fancied him for ever so long. Over two years. I'd done everything I thought might draw his attention, but nothing seemed to work. Daphne repeatedly told me to move on, but you can't just force that. When he invited me to the fundraiser, I couldn't believe it." She laughed ruefully. "It was completely out of nowhere. Naturally I said yes without a moment's hesitation. He knew how I felt—everyone did. So if he was asking me out, it had to mean that he felt the same. Right?"

They stopped walking when they reached the river. Their hotel was on the other side, but it was so lovely, so clear and fresh, that they both paused without a word. Astoria leaned on the railing and peered out over the water. "I hope you don't mind. I've had no one to really talk to about this. My sisters both cautioned me to be realistic, not to assume that his feelings had changed, but why else would he ask me out?" She looked down and kicked at something on the pavement. "Anyway, after that night, I thought for sure he'd ask me out again. After all, I thought we'd had a nice time. Well, a few days later, he came to the house and told me he was sorry but he didn't plan to ask me out again. It was such a shock. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Ever since then, I've tried to figure out what I did wrong. I must have done something, said something, or maybe it was my dress? I was hoping maybe... you knew? He was talking to you there at the end, when I came to ask him to take me home. Did he happen to say anything?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh, we weren't talking about you. Just… other things." It sounded lame, but she didn't want to tell Astoria that Draco had been upset over the way Tony had treated her that night. It would likely give the other witch the wrong idea.

Astoria sighed. "And since then? Has he said anything?"

"You should know that, if he had, I wouldn't betray his confidence." In a way, she wished she could ease the other woman's suffering, but considering her own revelation on the night they were discussing, she wasn't feeling very charitable.

"Oh no, of course not. I wouldn't want you to. I had hoped that, perhaps, he had merely mentioned me offhand or something." Astoria groaned and rested her arms on the railing, then dropped her head onto them. "Merlin, I feel so ridiculous. Why can't I just move on? Why can't I have feelings for someone else?"

Hermione awkwardly put her hand on Astoria's back and patted her twice. Astoria's lament sounded strangely similar to what Draco had said, about 'loving whom we're supposed to love.' Perhaps he was frustrated with himself for not returning Astoria's affections, wishing that he did, for whatever reason. Or maybe he meant something else entirely. She truly wished she knew.

Astoria straightened and gave Hermione a small smile. "All right. Thank you. I had to ask, though I didn't expect much."

They resumed walking. After a moment, Hermione spoke. "I do think you should stop beating yourself up over that night. I'm sure you didn't do anything, or say anything, to upset him. And your dress was absolutely perfect for the occasion." She smiled. "Sometimes, love doesn't make sense."

"I know that. You're completely right." She gave Hermione a grateful smile. "I appreciate you listening. As I said, it's nice to talk to someone who knows him but didn't grow up with him."

Hermione chuckled. She did grow up with him, in a way. Only they'd been on opposite sides of friendship.

Thursday, May 4

Just as she was about to leave for the first session of the day, an unfamiliar owl tapped at her window. Surprised, she admitted the bird, who flew in and dropped off a package wrapped in brown paper with a note attached to it. After giving the bird a treat, she released it and stuffed the package into her bag to look at later. It wasn't from Harry or her work, so it would have to wait until she had a spare moment to open it.

Astoria was waiting for her at the entrance to the auditorium and she hardly strayed from her side all day. Thankfully, Hermione got a respite after lunch, when she and Astoria went to separate workshops. As she waited for hers to begin, Hermione took out the package. She recognized the handwriting on the letter immediately and her heart raced as she tore the seal.

Hermione,

I trust that you are having a wonderful time at your conference and that you're learning a lot. I hope that you are finding time to enjoy yourself in other ways, despite all the delightful scholastic opportunities there to distract you.

I have a huge favor to ask of you. My mother's birthday is Sunday, May 7, and I always have tea with her. I'm out of the country, however, and I have just learned that I won't be home in time to be with her. I'm slightly devastated, but she took the news well. If you've other plans, please don't change them, but I had the thought that, if you weren't busy, you could stop in and join her for the occasion in my place.

I've included a gift for her, but I'd like you to open it and test it out with me. It's a special two-way journal. Whatever you write in it, I will see in my half of the set. International mail can be rather slow, and I'm afraid I'll be away quite a bit in the near future. Since the magical community has yet to develop such communication technology as a mobile phone, I think this is the best way for her to reach me should she need me while I'm away. I want to ensure it works over the long distance before I give it to her.

When you have considered my request about tea Sunday, you can give me your response via the journal.

Again, I hope you're having a wonderful time. Say hello to Paris for me.

Sincerely,

Draco

Hermione opened the package with reverence. The journal was beautiful: leather-bound with gilded edging. On the cover was a songbird, drawn in gold. There were pages for normal writing and one special page designed for communication with the other journal. Hermione had been wary of magical journals ever since her second year at Hogwarts, when Ginny was given a journal embedded with a fragment of Voldemort's soul in it and nearly died, but she also knew of the existence of journals like this one.

And she trusted Draco.

With a quick glance to make sure no one was paying her any attention, she took out her quill and began to write.

Hello?

The word disappeared as though melting into the page. She waited for a few minutes, but nothing appeared. Disappointed, she tucked the journal into her bag so that she could get to her next session on time.

Twenty minutes into a round table discussion about the pros and cons of monitoring international travel of magical creatures who had the agency to do so, she saw a pulse of soft light from inside her bag. Curious, she pulled out the journal and was surprised to find that the bird design was now glowing. When she opened it, she saw Draco's handwriting on the magic page. She smiled at the clever magic.

Forgive me. I was in a meeting. If you're able, will you reply right away, so that I might know the speed at which the messages travel?

Hermione hesitated. She didn't want to draw attention to herself, and she didn't want to make the journal glow again because it might be a distraction. After only a moment's indecision, however, she wrote a response.

Can't talk now. I'll be free in twenty minutes.

Her words disappeared just as they had before. She closed the book and put it away, burying it under her sweater so that if it glowed again, she wouldn't see it and be tempted to reply.

Once the session let out, she ducked out of a side door and hurried to a café down the street, feeling only slightly guilty at abandoning Astoria. She sat at the first table she found and pulled it out once again.

Draco had already replied.

That was pretty quick, but I would like to have an actual conversation. Please let me know when you'd be available for this. I know it's asking a lot, and I really appreciate your time.

Hermione smiled and wrote her reply.

I'm sitting in a café, sipping a delicious cup of hot tea, a box of macarons open on the table. I passed a beautiful magnolia tree on my way here. I want to pick a few blossoms for my hotel room. I've got fifteen minutes before I need to be back. Oh, it's two-thirty here.

She bit into a lavender macaron and sighed at the delightful sensation of the flavors bursting on her tongue. She truly hoped that Draco would see her message and reply so they could communicate in real time. If it worked, it would be almost like talking on a telephone.

After five minutes, she was beginning to lose hope. She was down to only three macarons left of the six she'd bought. She knew Draco was very fond of sweets and wondered if he had ever experienced the French delicacy. She went to the cashier and took a menu so she could peruse it while she waited. When she returned, she was delighted to see that he had responded.

Give me two minutes.

Hermione grinned and sat down, taking a sip of her tea. She picked up her quill, ready to reply. Less than two minutes later, more writing appeared.

All right. I'm ready. Are you?

Yes!

Good. How's the conference?

Oh! It's really good so far. Very interesting. I'm learning a lot.

That's fantastic. This journal is working nicely. I think the only lag time is the time it takes us to actually write something

I agree. I think it's a lovely gift, Draco.

Speaking of gifts. Have you thought of my request? I hesitated for a long while before deciding to ask you. Please don't think I did it lightly; I know you're in Paris, and you'll have just returned home. I know it's asking a lot, but Mother much prefers your company to… well, anyone else I could think of.

Hermione had debated this, but only for a minute or two. She'd planned to spend Sunday in Paris, but she could simply shorten her trip and go straight from the International Portkey station in Paris to Malfoy Manor.

Yes, Draco, I'd love to have tea with your mother Sunday.

Thank you! Merlin, Hermione, I can't tell you how happy this makes me. I will make it up to you.

She couldn't help the wide grin at the thought that she'd pleased him so much.

Don't be silly. Your mother happens to be my friend; it's not as though you're asking me to have dinner with my sworn enemy.

That's true. But I'm almost certain you had other plans. Don't you usually go to The Burrow on Sundays?

Yes, but I wasn't going this Sunday.

You won't be too tired from your trip?

Draco. I'm going. Leave it be! Tell me about where you are. What's got you going out of the country so much? Harry mentioned it. He basically whined at the thought of having to write the reports without you.

I laughed out loud at that mental picture. Potter's voice sounded a bit like Trelawney's in my head. It was priceless. I'm in Iran, working on something, but that's all I can say about it right now.

Iran? How unusual. To my knowledge, the foundation doesn't have any connections there.

You're quite correct. This isn't foundation business.

She waited, hoping he would say more, but he didn't.

When will you be home?

Monday. Tell me something about the conference.

Hermione bit her lip, glancing around the café as though something there would give her an idea of what to say.

Oh, here's something. I've really enjoyed learning about the magical creatures native to the African continent. Magical creatures are just like non-magical ones, in that they are extremely diverse—though less numerous—throughout the world, with certain species only found in certain places. I've attended two breakout sessions about them.

Aren't you there for some policy reasons?

Yes, certainly. But those sessions are not terribly interesting. They're necessary but rather tedious.

Ah. That's understandable.

I try to find a good balance between the dry subjects and things that I really want to learn. For every boring lecture, I get to learn something fun.

I'm glad that there are so many options.

Where are you, right now? This café—a patisserie, really—is in the magical part of Paris. Across the street is a boulangerie, where I'll have to stop to pick up a baguette. It's a lovely spring day; there are hundreds of flowers in bloom in planters all along the way.

I'm in a hotel room. It's dark here. I'm at a desk by the window, looking out over a garden. In the distance, I see mountains. I know that I'll have a difficult time getting to sleep tonight because my body isn't used to the time, so I might take a potion. However, I've got a meeting in the morning, so I don't want to risk oversleeping with a potion.

I see.

She wasn't quite sure what to say next, but since she desperately wanted to keep writing, she fished about for some other topic. Thankfully, his elegant script appeared after just a minute and she smiled.

Have you made any new connections?

Such a Slytherin thing to say.

Very funny. But I know what those conferences are all about. Sure, you'll learn a few things here and there, but it's all about making friends in new, high places. You know that's so much of what I do for the foundation. Every person I encounter is a potential resource.

I know. I struggle with that because I wish it weren't so for you. I wish that you could approach new people as they're meant to be: potential friends.

I've got quite enough friends, Hermione. I probably have more than I can truly handle, considering the work I do.

And yet you're branching out into new kinds of relationships?

She immediately regretted the question and let out a soft gasp. The last thing she really wanted was for him to talk about dating—why oh why had she asked him so many questions about it before? Hurriedly, she wrote the first thing that came to mind in the hopes of distracting him from the hasty question.

Oh, Astoria is here.

He didn't respond for a long time, and Hermione started to panic. Had she offended him?

I hadn't considered that she might be, but I suppose that makes sense.

She was invited to speak. I believe her session is tomorrow. It's not a full lecture, in front of the whole conference, merely a breakout session. I haven't decided if I'll attend or not. She's been sticking pretty close to me since we bumped into each other the first day.

That was an understatement.

She's pleasant enough to be around.

Hermione cringed. It was clear, reading between the lines, that he did not want to talk about his one-time date. Grasping again for something to say, she absently twirled the quill between her fingers. Then she decided, screw it, and went with what was on her mind.

She is. I'm the only person she knows and I think that's scary for her. I forget that she's a good bit younger than me. At first, I was a little put out, not really wanting a shadow for the entire time, but I'm getting to know her. The part she shares with me, anyway. I'm sure there's much she keeps to herself. I forced her to ride the Metro with me. That was kind of fun, watching her experience something in the Muggle world for the first time. I know that I was enamoured with the magical world and I'm sure I annoyed every single pureblood at Hogwarts with my constant delight that first year.

If anyone was annoyed, they were the losing party. Myself included. And I…

He didn't write anything for a solid minute, and Hermione waited impatiently for him to continue.

She is lucky to have you there. I don't think you're wrong in your general assessment. I doubt very much that she would open up to anyone. It's true that those of us steeped in pureblood traditions are encouraged to keep our thoughts and feelings close. I've known her much of my life and still barely know her.

Well, there's something to be said for using discretion in what you reveal about yourself. There's danger in going too far the other way, as well.

From my vantage point, I find it has been freeing to allow myself to feel things that I'd been raised not to feel. Giving my mind the freedom to roam where it may has proven to give me greater depth of thought, greater understanding. I might come up with the same conclusion I was taught to believe, but at least I got there through a wider path.

Hermione's heart felt like bursting. Seeing Draco's words on the page, reading his innermost thoughts, words straight from his heart, was almost too much. How had she only just noticed how incredible he was, how thoughtful? It wasn't as though this was new for him. He'd been showing her pieces of his character, his soul, for years now.

It wasn't fair. Draco was the least accessible person to her; sure, she was in his world and friends with his mother, but there was no chance he'd think of her in that way. Even if her blood status no longer mattered, she couldn't see a single thing she had in common with any of the polished socialites he'd dated in the past, Astoria included.

You know many of my beliefs have changed. Please tell me you know this.

Hermione realized she'd not responded for a few minutes.

Yes! Absolutely. I apologize, my thoughts wandered. I do know, Draco. We've had many conversations about them.

And those conversations have been instrumental in many of those changes.

I'm glad that you've trusted me enough as a friend to let me be part of your journey.

Someone bumped into her table, jostling her now empty teacup. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" A waitress gave her an apologetic look.

"It's quite alright." Hermione smiled, then her gaze fell on a clock behind the counter. She gasped; she was half an hour late! Quickly, she gathered her things.

When she looked back at the journal, Draco had written.

I am thankful for your friendship.

She smiled, her heart clenching in a bittersweet way. Yes, they were friends. Safe. Steady. Friends. But she needed to go.

Draco, I'm very late. I'm so sorry, I got caught up in this conversation. I can write more later."

Without waiting for a reply, she put the journal in her bag with the rest of her things, including the macaron menu, and hurried out of the café.

Saturday, MAY 6

By the time lunch rolled around, Hermione's brain felt completely fried. The conference was very full, with nearly every moment scheduled, and little time for relaxing and processing what she'd learned. She was well and truly ready for a long soak in the bathtub in her hotel room, thinking about nothing.

After lunch, there would be one final lecture, then some awards given for presentations and research done over the previous year, then they would be dismissed. She had every reason to believe that by four—three-thirty, possibly—she'd be soaking in bubbles with a glass of white wine.

She'd grown to grudgingly like Astoria, though she knew they'd never be great friends. Astoria was too timid, too hesitant to try new things or think outside of her prescribed boxes. But she was smart and ambitious, and Hermione liked her despite her inclination not to. That was only because the woman was so clearly in love with Draco. Or at least, in love with the idea of him. Draco was, Hermione knew, quite the catch, and not just in pureblood circles. Any witch on whom he bestowed his affections would have to be someone ridiculously special. Hermione knew she couldn't come close to the kind of woman she imagined would win Draco's heart. She only hoped she'd be well over him by the time that happened.

She and Draco had communicated a handful of times through the journal since that first day, but she got the impression he was very busy.

"Let's go find another amazing restaurant. Only this time, it's my treat, and we're staying in wizarding Paris," Astoria said, practically dragging Hermione through the lobby, toward the welcoming sunshine.

Hermione laughed. "All right! No need to wrench my arm out of socket!"

The warmth of the sun enveloped them as they left the hotel, and Hermione shut her eyes to bask in its rays for a few long seconds. Then she felt Astoria pulling at her once again.

They walked briskly down the street, Astoria talking all the while about what she found most interesting about the lecture they'd just attended. Hermione commented here and there, trying to listen while also attempting to enjoy their surroundings.

After they were seated and had started eating, they noticed a group of witches sitting at the table beside theirs. They were hunched over what looked like a newspaper, and they were laughing and pointing and tittering.

"I wonder what that's about?" Astoria asked conspiratorially.

Hermione stood and walked toward the table, making her way to the side board, ostensibly for a refill of her tea. A quick glance showed her that the women were looking at an issue of La Sorcière du Monde, the French equivalent of Witch Weekly. She didn't see anything more than the title, but she carried her news back to Astoria with her fresh cup of tea.

"Well?"

"It's the weekly gossip paper. It must have been printed today." Hermione shrugged. She had about as much use for this French publication as for its counterpart at home: none.

"I can't believe we go home today. I can't wait to sleep in my own bed!" Astoria smiled dreamily. "And I like French food in moderation, but I can't wait to eat a real steak and kidney pie again!"

"I'm staying one more night. I've got some sightseeing I plan to do tomorrow."

Astoria's eyes widened. "Oh? That sounds deliciously fun! What are you planning to see?"

She had to tread carefully. She didn't want Astoria to join her for this part, and she knew Astoria had all the means necessary to change her plans and extend her time in Paris. "Oh, I want to spend all morning at the Louvre. It's a Muggle art museum. I could spend hours in the Impressionist section alone, to say nothing of the other thousands of pieces of art. I'm hoping to get to the Musee d'Orsay tonight; they have a lot of post-Impressionist and modern art on display. And I haven't decided yet, but there's a fabulous book shop near Notre Dame that I want to visit as well."

It was clear Astoria didn't know quite what to think. "Muggle art?"

Hermione nodded and sipped from her cup. "It's like magical art, but it doesn't move. Magical art never really expanded beyond realism, since most of what is painted is portraiture. I find Cubism to be just fascinating." She didn't really, but she was trying to make Muggle art sound bizarre and dreadful so that Astoria wouldn't be tempted to join her.

"It all sounds fascinating. I wish I could join you, but Mother wants me home for a surprise dinner she's throwing for Narcissa tomorrow night."

"Oh?" Hermione was instantly a little anxious.

"It's her birthday and mother simply adores Narcissa. She's invited her over for dinner tomorrow night, but Narcissa thinks it's just to be the two of them. Actually, all of Narcissa's friends will be there!" She clapped her hands in apparent joy. "I'm so looking forward to it. And if word gets back to Draco…." Astoria trailed off as the table beside them cleared.

The women trailed through the restaurant and out the door, all chattering and laughing, and to Hermione's surprise, they left the magazine they'd been looking at. Astoria met her gaze and winked, waving her wand a little to indicate that she'd cast a spell to cause them to forget it.

Hermione shook her head but smiled and went to retrieve the paper. She glanced at the cover and her smile instantly dropped. There, splashed across the front page, was a picture of Draco with a woman on his arm. The two-inch headline read: "Malfoy heir finds love?" The by-line said: "Draco Malfoy has been spotted in India with Sania Reddy, Headmistress of one of the fifteen Schools of Magic in India this weekend."

"What?" Astoria asked, her face pale and all mirth gone.

"It's nothing." Hermione rolled up the paper and tried to burn it, but Astoria grabbed it from her.

She dropped into her chair, dejection written across her lovely face.

Hermione returned to her seat, her thoughts a flutter, as Astoria quickly skimmed the article. When she opened the paper to continue reading, she groaned. "There are more pictures."

Curiosity got the better of Hermione, and she motioned for Astoria to let her see. There were three more photos showing Draco with the woman, all taken at the same event. While they didn't show anything intimate, such as a kiss or even the pair holding hands, they did show two people who were clearly enjoying themselves together. There was even one of Draco whispering something in the woman's ear and her laughing.

"He really meant it, didn't he?" Astoria's voice was barely above a whisper, one hand loosely touching her lips as she continued to read.

"Meant what?"

"That he doesn't fancy me. He never acted like that around me in all the years I've known him."

Despite her own discomfort over the pictures and the accompanying article, which she had yet to actually read and likely wouldn't, Hermione knew that Astoria was far more devastated than she was. Tears welled in the younger woman's eyes, and Hermione reached over to squeeze her wrist. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's… it's okay." Astoria closed the paper and set it back on the table where the group of witches had been sitting. "He never lied to me. The article was what you'd expect: full of endless speculation, nothing concrete. But the fact remains that he's in India, with some woman, and he appears very happy. I can't remember ever seeing him smile like that."

Hermione's own heart wrenched. She had, plenty of times. She'd always felt a special privilege at being allowed that glimpse into his inner self. She hesitated, but then took the paper back and opened it. No, the smile wasn't quite the one she'd seen on him dozens of times. He was still reserved in these photos, and despite knowing that Draco was not for her, it made her feel a little better.

"I'm ready to go." Astoria listlessly gathered her purse and stood.

"Like you said, there's nothing definitive in here." Hermione felt an odd compulsion to try and assuage Astoria's fears, even though she knew that Draco wasn't likely to ask her out again. Nothing was certain, though, so she couldn't say with absolute conviction that Draco was finished with Astoria. "And these pictures could easily be explained as some sort of business interaction. They don't tell the full story. But even if they do, if he is seeing this woman, then—"

"Then he's completely within his rights and owes me nothing. I know." Astoria glared at Hermione and walked away with a huff.

Hermione followed after her, finding her waiting outside on the sidewalk.

"I'm sorry. I just… I'm not ready to give up, you know?" Astoria frowned deeply. "I… I love him. And I won't give up. He'll see. He'll hear about this dinner for his mother and—"

"Astoria." Hermione took her arm and gently shook her. "If Draco isn't interested, I know that hurts, but you can't force it. We just talked about this earlier this week. Remember? All you can do is be yourself. If his feelings toward you are going to change, it will be because something in him changes. Not because of anything you do."

It looked as though Astoria would argue, but after a moment, she let her shoulders droop. "You're right. Of course. I have just waited so patiently for him to notice me! I've turned down dozens of other wizards because I knew, absolutely, in the deepest part of my heart, that Draco and I would get together, get married, be happy together forever. I hate to think I've wasted all of it!"

They started walking back toward the hotel. "It wasn't a waste, Astoria. Every day, you've become the woman you are. And who you are, right now, will attract the right person. If Draco doesn't see it, then he isn't the right one for you. You must have faith and be content in who you are."

Astoria linked arms with Hermione and they walked in silence for a couple of blocks. "I know you're right. Everyone has told me to move on. Maybe I just needed to see him with someone, you know? He's not dated anyone seriously since Pansy, and that was ages ago." She sighed. "Maybe what I need is to see someone."

"That's the spirit." Hermione smiled at her. "Someone out there will be just what you're looking for."

They talked of insignificant matters for the rest of the walk, and as they settled in for the closing of the conference, Hermione wondered what part, if any, of her advice she needed to take. She hadn't been in love with Draco for years, of course, but her reactions to seeing him with Astoria at the fundraiser, and then again in the paper with someone else, were essentially the same. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Oh, if only she could go back to her life before Pansy had ever said anything about the two of them! She was certain that was when it had started. The conscious effort of not thinking about what Pansy had said had resulted in her inadvertently thinking about Draco—a lot. From there, everything cascaded, culminating in the realization that she cared for him far more deeply than just a friend.

Sunday, MAY 7

Good morning.

Hermione didn't notice the message until she was packing her things, preparing to check out of her hotel. Rather than sight-seeing the night before, she'd enjoyed the long soak she'd planned, then took a leisurely stroll through the Muggle neighborhoods around the magical one. Paris was magical everywhere, and her evening had been no exception.

She'd slept in, allowing herself to really rest. It was a skill she'd been developing since the new year, an unintended but much welcomed result of trimming her schedule back to the bare bones. All the space in her calendar left her space for so many other things—including the space to do nothing "productive." She was learning that those times could be vastly more beneficial than busy ones.

As she packed the few books she'd brought, she noticed the glowing bird design on the journal, her heart quickening as she opened it. She wondered briefly if there was any record of her conversation with Draco from before, but it was gone, replaced by a new message. She smiled instantly, though she had no idea how old it was.

Grabbing a quill, she hastily replied.

Hello! I suppose I don't know what time of day it is where you are.

She set the book open on the bed and continued packing, glancing at it every now and then to see if he might respond. Finally, he did.

It's late afternoon. I'm in India and very much looking forward to going home.

Hermione debated asking about the newspaper article but decided against it. It was none of her business, and if he wanted to tell her, he would.

India! Weren't you in Iran?

I've had a busy long weekend. More travel than I'm used to. I've told my mother to expect a guest for tea today. She doesn't know it's you; I thought it would be a fun surprise for her.

Wonderful. I'm about to leave the hotel.

Thank you again, Hermione. I hate missing her birthday.

I'm very happy to do it. And I hate to do this, but I've got to go. I'm stopping by the Louvre after leaving here, and I've got a Portkey scheduled for two o'clock out of the city. I'm hoping to get in a few hours looking at art.

Remember, I will make this up to you.

Make what up?

Don't think I didn't read between the lines. I'm sure you had to change your plans to do me this favor.

You're right, I am, but honestly, Draco, I'm so exhausted that I'm quite relieved to be heading home earlier than I'd originally planned. Tea with your mother will be just the thing I need before I get to my flat and fall asleep the second I reach my bed.

She finished shrinking everything to fit in her bag, did one last check of the room, and left. She carried the journal and a quill with her so that she could continue her conversation.

Rest well-deserved. I really can't thank you enough.

I'm thanked plenty. I mean it. See you later, Draco.

She tucked the journal into her bag and headed out into the city.

ooo

"Oh! Hermione! What a lovely surprise!" Narcissa beamed as she opened the front door wide.

Hermione smiled and they embraced briefly. "I'm glad you're pleased."

"Draco told me he was sending someone to have tea with me, but never in my wildest dreams would I have thought he'd send you! I knew you were away most of this past week." Narcissa led her to her favorite sitting room, and Hermione saw a beautiful tea service prepared. Shining silver trays were piled high with an assortment of delicacies, and the fanciest silver tea set Hermione had ever seen practically shone on one side of the table. A large arrangement of fresh flowers sat on a table beside the tea setup, and there were flowers on almost every surface in the room.

"What do you think?" Narcissa motioned toward the room. "Draco arranged everything with the house-elves to surprise me. It's absolutely stunning. His attention to detail is unparalleled. Though, perhaps I'm a bit biased." She was beaming, pride in her only son evident.

"It's breathtaking." Hermione leisurely scanned the room and noticed some of the flowers he'd told her were his favorite. She smiled. There were also peonies in nearly every arrangement, and at her place at the table, there was a bud vase containing a pale pink peony and a bloom from a magnolia tree. He really had thought of everything. Despite the beauty of the room, that long, solitary flower made her heart skip a beat. But no, it certainly didn't mean anything, only that he was a good friend who remembered her favorite flower.

Narcissa was watching her closely, a scrutinizing glint in her eyes that was gone as quickly as Hermione blinked, making her doubt what she'd seen. "Shall we?" In a long, pale blue gown, Narcissa elegantly glided into her seat and spread her napkin in her lap.

Hermione sat down as well. She'd chosen to wear the nicest dress she'd taken to Paris, the one she'd worn the night of the fanciest dinner, yet she still felt underdressed beside her hostess. "Happy birthday, Narcissa."

"Thank you, my dear." Narcissa began serving the tea. "How do you take yours?"

"A dash of milk, no sugar, please."

"Ah, yes, I knew that. It's such a habit to ask that I didn't stop to think." She poured Hermione's cup and then set to work on her own. Once both cups were steeping, Narcissa began with the sandwiches. "How was your conference? You're not too worn out, I hope."

Hermione shook her head. "Not at all. I had a very relaxing morning. The conference was wonderful. I learned a lot." Then she scowled, unable to stop herself. "Though I did learn something near the end that has me quite upset."

"Oh?"

"Did you know that the Quidditch League of England is trying to finagle their way into buying part of the protected pixie forest for a new stadium?" Her blood was already boiling again over the outrageous news.

Narcissa raised a patrician eyebrow. "I hadn't heard that. I take it you're displeased."

"That's putting it mildly." Hermione clenched her fists tightly in her lap. "That protected forest is vital to their well-being! The pixie community fought hard for that small corner of the forest, and now the Quidditch League wants to clear it out! Where will they go? From what I heard, which was nothing official, just rumors, nobody seems very concerned about that. I'm not really surprised; after all, this is Quidditch we're talking about." She rolled her eyes. "If the Quidditch league wants something, then by all means, let's mow down all the forests in England. Nobody needs those, after all. Not when there are stadiums to be built."

After her little rant, Hermione immediately blushed. "Oh, Narcissa, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to go on like that. I can just get so worked up over things like this."

"It's absolutely fine, dear. I don't mind at all." She smiled comfortingly and gave Hermione's hand a gentle squeeze. "Is there anything I can do?"

Slightly surprised at the offer, Hermione blinked rapidly a few times. "Oh, um, I don't really know. I've not thought about it. I know that my department will be involved. I know that I want to fight it, but it's going to be a nightmare. That particular forest is the ideal location for the pixies. Unfortunately, part of what makes it so great for them also makes it a good place to build a Quidditch stadium. But really, their needs are far more pressing, their situation more delicate. I have hope that the Ministry will hear me, though. A sound, logical argument should be all that's required. I'm afraid it will take much of this month to prepare, however. I'll be inquiring about it first thing tomorrow."

"Do let me know if I can help."

"Thank you." She highly doubted she'd reach out to Narcissa, but she greatly appreciated the offer. "Do you have any other plans for today?"

Narcissa's smile became tight and thin. "As a matter of fact, I do. I've been invited to the Greengrass home for dinner with Livinia and her girls. With Draco out of the country, I couldn't find a way to say no."

Hermione laughed.

"Don't get me wrong, Livinia is a friend, but every time she reaches out to me, I sense ulterior motives. I'll be the first to admit that I've done the same, many times, but honestly." She huffed lightly. "If dinner were only with Livinia, that would be one thing, but I can't help but suspect that Astoria is hoping to worm her way into my good graces and nudge my son her direction." Narcissa took a calming breath. "I am quite familiar with the dance, but the song has long ended. Draco told Astoria that he's not interested."

Hermione was once again reminded how shrewd the woman before her was. Astoria had been hoping for exactly what Narcissa mentioned. "She was at the conference. Astoria. I saw her quite a bit."

"Oh? That's surprising. Usually they don't let her out of their sight. After Daphne's lackluster marriage to Adrian Pucey, and their older sister, Eliza, marrying well but failing to produce an heir, all of the family's hopes are now pinned on that poor girl. I do feel for her, Hermione. I sympathize with her plight, but there are plenty of other young men on whom she might set her sights."

"I believe she genuinely cares for him." At Narcissa's surprised expression, Hermione hurried to clarify. "I mean, as much as she can, considering everything you've just said. I don't think she truly knows what she wants or who she is. Her life is so guided by forces outside her control that I think she's taken to believing that what her family says is best is also what she wants. I feel deeply for her and wish that she could break free from such impossible expectations. She and I will never be great friends, but I will never stop wanting the same freedom for her that I have. She deserves the opportunity to make her own choices and go her own way in life."

Narcissa's expression softened. "Hermione, dear, you are one of my favorite people in the whole world. Your generous nature is such a breath of fresh air after the life I've lived. Now, my social circles are all aflutter with rumors that you're dating Marcus Flint. Do tell me everything."

Saturday, MAY 13

An explosion of sound hit Hermione as she entered the pub. It was after eleven, but since the Quidditch game between Puddlemere and Holyhead had only just ended, she wasn't surprised to find the pub full. Almost everyone was sporting some sort of paraphernalia, though most of the room seemed to favor the Harpies.

Ginny pulled her toward the back where they'd reserved a table. Pansy, Ron, Harry, Marcus, Neville, Hannah, George, and Luna followed. She ended up between Marcus and Luna, with the men on one side of the table and the women on the other. Since she and Marcus were newly coupled, they were allowed to sit together.

"Did you see that move in the first hour by Dorset?" Ron used his hands to imitate the moves made by Dorset and the Puddlemere United player she'd outmaneuvered.

"I thought Josiah's move in the third hour was more technically difficult." Harry used some forks to demonstrate.

Marcus, not to be outdone, set up a model pitch on the table using salt and pepper shakers, napkins, and utensils. "When Johnson executed that barrel roll to evade Simpson, I thought I'd lose my voice from shouting."

"I particularly enjoyed seeing Simpson nearly crash into the stands because he was distracted by Maggie Dippit's Dionysus Dive near the end." With his wand, George set the utensils in motion, recreating the moment to the enjoyment of all.

Hermione shook her head. Ginny was gazing wistfully at the men's antics, and Hermione knew she wished she were close enough to join in the analysis. Neville sat opposite Ginny, sandwiched between Harry and George, his expression resigned. It would likely be at least twenty minutes before the Quidditch talk subsided. While Neville enjoyed the sport, he didn't especially want to dissect every move in the hours following the match. He mostly joined them for games because he wanted to be with his friends, and he knew that there would be a lengthy conversation once it was over.

Though Marcus was wholly engrossed, his body turned slightly away from her as he enthusiastically recounted the match, it was nice knowing he was there. They sat close enough that his thigh was pressed against hers, and whenever he moved—which he did quite a bit in animated motions—some part of him brushed some part of her.

Nothing about the conversation at her end of the table was especially interesting; it was impossible to talk about anything weighty or important while shouting to be heard in a noisy pub. Occasionally, she'd drift out of that end and listen in to what the men were saying. She didn't care about the Quidditch talk, of course, but she enjoyed hearing Marcus' voice, and got a thrill at the fact that her friends had seemingly welcomed him completely. At least, so far as attending a match together went.

When the food finally arrived, half an hour after it was ordered due to being so busy, the separate lines of discussion dissolved and smaller conversations erupted. It was chaotic and so very loud. Hermione enjoyed it immensely, especially when Marcus found her hand under the table and twined his fingers with hers, all while continuing to talk to George about a previous Slytherin-Gryffindor game that predated her arrival at Hogwarts.

Eventually, exhaustion started to creep in. The game had lasted for six hours, and they'd gone directly from there to the pub. She found herself leaning on Marcus' shoulder, talking less and yawning more. When she felt herself nod off, head drooping forward, she jerked up and blinked. "I'm done for. If I don't get home, you'll have to Levitate me out of here, and I don't fancy you trying to put me through a Floo that way."

Marcus jumped up to help her stand, and Hermione thought she saw something like delight flash in his eyes. For a moment, she panicked. It was their third date, but she wasn't anywhere near ready for what she suspected he was hoping for. No. If there was one thing she firmly believed, it was that she shouldn't sleep with someone when she had feelings—however impossible, slight, or confusing—for someone else.

They said goodnight to everyone, then made their way to the fireplace. Marcus climbed in with her, and she shouted their destination. Thirty seconds later, they arrived in her living room. Unaccustomed to Floo travel with someone else, she stumbled a bit. Marcus caught her wrist to steady her, then pulled her flush against him and kissed her. Hermione sighed and kissed him back, allowing herself a few minutes of heavy snogging before she sent him on his way.

When she thought they'd kissed long enough, she put her hands in his chest and gently pushed away. He groaned.

"Hermione," he rasped, his voice almost pleading.

"Not tonight, Marcus." She smiled, somewhat apologetically. However, she was under no obligation to him. "I am exhausted and really want to sleep."

He sighed deeply, kissed her once more, then nodded. "Can't blame a bloke for trying." He gave her such a familiar smirk that she wondered if all Slytherins practiced it in front of the mirror. "Good night, Hermione." He stepped back into the fireplace and was soon swallowed up in green flames.

Hermione yawned and didn't bother changing clothes. She cleaned her teeth magically; her body was physically aching from being tired. Within a minute of collapsing into bed, she was asleep.

Friday, MAY 19

Hermione had just sat down at the table where she and Harry always had lunch when someone dropped into the seat across from her. Expecting it to be Harry, she looked up with a smile, only to be startled to see Draco sitting there. She didn't bother trying to hide the ridiculous grin that leapt onto her face.

"Draco!"

He smiled easily. "Hey. Harry asked me to come tell you that he got stuck in a meeting and won't be able to join you."

"I see. Well, all right. Thanks for telling me. Where's your lunch?"

"Oh, well, I usually nip home for lunch, when I can. Otherwise I have it delivered."

Hermione glanced at the queue. "You could stay and have lunch with me, since Harry can't." She tried to say it casually, but she could hardly breathe for hoping he'd say yes. He, too, examined the queue. "It's not bad, really. You'll be through in less than seven minutes."

He smirked. "Seven?"

"Seven." She grinned back at him, her entire being filling with a sense of giddy excitement.

"All right. You seem to have found something to eat that isn't wholly substandard." He left her and joined the people waiting to select their food.

While he was away, Hermione tried to force her heart to stop pounding. She realized she hadn't seen him since the night they'd gone to celebrate the case he and Harry had closed. A few glimpses in the halls at work didn't count. How had that happened? It was true she'd let her April calendar fill too much; the last two weeks fairly flew by. And May had already been quite busy, with the conference and a few other things, but she usually saw him outside of the Ministry on a somewhat regular basis.

He returned and gave her an appreciative nod. "Six minutes, thirty-two seconds. I'm impressed."

"I've had a lot of experience." She eyed his dishes. "Ooh, that looks good, I didn't notice the fish!"

"I think they just put it out. A fresh tray, at least." He gave his meal a slight prod, as though to make sure it was what it claimed to be.

"Don't eat in a cafeteria often?" she asked with a laugh.

"I, er, well, no." He took a deep breath, forked a bit of the fish, and took a bite. After a few chews, he gave a satisfactory nod. "I've had worse."

The next few bites were eaten in silence. Hermione had to work up the courage to ask the question that had been on her mind for weeks. "Harry says you've taken some time off work but you won't tell him why."

Draco held her gaze for a moment, then dabbed his mouth with his napkin. "That's correct. I've been working on a project that has me traveling a fair bit. But that's all I'm going to say. Even to you."

She eyed him curiously and considered pressing him, but there was something about the way he'd spoken, the way he carried himself, that was just the slightest bit different. It only made her more curious, so it was with some effort that she forced her thoughts in another direction.

"Are you and your mother enjoying the two-way journal?"

He nodded in excitement while he finished his bite. "Very much. Thank you again for having tea with her. I know she enjoyed herself."

"You've already thanked me enough." He'd sent her a long note of thanks, accompanied by a single peony blossom. "I'm only glad you listened when I insisted you not do anything else. A thank you gift would suggest that I didn't want to have tea with her, or that it was some odious chore you'd thrust upon me."

"She's mentioned your visit almost every time I've seen her since. Next year, she might prefer your company to mine."

Hermione laughed. "That's not possible. You are her favorite person in the whole world."

He grinned. "Maybe so, but you might be a close second. But enough about that; I doubt we'll ever agree. How is your work going? Tell me more about your conference earlier this month."

"Yes, I did, and it was lovely. There's so much work being done all around the world to improve the lives of other magical creatures. It was fascinating." She paused, frowning. "I did hear something disturbing, though. Do you know anything about a new Quidditch Stadium?"

He shook his head, and she could tell his interest was piqued. "I overheard some wizards talking about it, and they spoke about being torn. On one hand, the conference was about magical creatures, and in theory everyone attending is connected to magical creatures in some way. On the other, it's Quidditch." She scowled, and she was about to launch into yet another colorful rant, but she decided against it. With a slight shake of her head, she pushed away the gloomy thoughts.

"I went to Astoria's talk. It wasn't terrible."

He nodded but made no other reaction. "How is she?"

"She seems in good spirits. She talked about you a good bit. I think she's determined to win you back?" Hermione couldn't go into detail about everything Astoria had said. Even though she would rather they didn't get together, she felt Astoria had placed confidence in her and she wouldn't betray it.

Draco heaved a dramatic sigh. "I get the same feeling whenever I see her. It hasn't been often since I told her there wouldn't be a repeat date, but each instance has felt… heavy. It's as though I can feel her trying to will me to change my mind. I really wish I had made a different choice for our first—and only—date. I simply do not have romantic feelings for her, and I don't see that changing."

"You've been honest with her, which is all you can do."

"I don't want to hurt her, but if she insists upon putting me in situations where I have to repeat myself…"

"That's not your fault," Hermione said.

"She's a lovely woman, but she isn't right for me. I think she'd realize it too if she could see past the schoolgirl crush she's had on me for years."

"We are all fools in love, are we not?" Hermione loved quoting one of her favorite books.

He looked at her, his eyes so intense it made her breath catch. "We certainly are." Then his gaze returned to his lunch. "How was the Quidditch game? I was sorry to miss it. Who ended up going in my place?"

"Harry gave me the ticket and suggested I invite Marcus. So I did."

Draco froze mid-chew, then slowly resumed. "I can't think of anyone better to give it to. Marcus loved being captain." He moved his food around on his plate a bit, gathering his next bite. "How are things going with him?"

"Fine, just fine."

"Just fine?" He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

She huffed slightly. "Yes. It's… fine. We manage to find things to talk about, though it's a little strange not being able to discuss his work. It's a very big part of his life, but he can't talk about it. He can only speak in very vague terms. It makes it a challenge to talk because we don't know each other well yet, and work is a natural topic of conversation when getting to know someone."

"I recently read something that spoke of low marriage rates among Unspeakables, for that very reason." Draco frowned slightly. "Or if they do marry, they tend to gravitate towards others in their department."

"That's fascinating," Hermione said. "But also a little sad. Everybody needs someone in whom they can confide. Or talk about work, or discuss things going on..."

"Do you talk about your work?" Draco was nearly finished eating.

Hermione finished her last bite thoughtfully, then set down her fork and leaned back in her chair. "You know, it's interesting you ask that because I've come to a realization the last few weeks. Without the social aspect of my job—the dinner meetings, the social gathering sprinkled through the months—my job isn't as enjoyable."

Draco's eyes widened. "I thought you loved your job."

"I did too! But when left with just the job itself, it is easier to see what a waste of time so much of it is. There is so much bureaucracy, so many hurdles to cross, just to get anything started, not to mention the endless paperwork and reports and research required to get a bill introduced to the Wizengamot. I love those things to an extent, but we have only put two things before them this whole year. Two! And neither was adopted as written, the more recent one still going through the process of rewrites. The first was a shadow of what was meant by the time it passed, effectively rendering it useless."

"I had no idea."

Hermione scoffed. "I hadn't any idea either, really. All of the doing, the busyness, hid the fact that we really weren't doing anything. Then there's the fact that nobody in the Ministry respects our work. Not even Marcus, I can tell. He hasn't really said as much, but he doesn't care about what I have to say when he does ask about my work."

Draco frowned and scraped at something on the table. His focus was so intent that Hermione grew suspicious.

"What?"

He sighed. "I shouldn't say. I have no idea what he's like now, and if I judge him on his behavior in school, I'm only giving myself rope to hang from."

"Tell me. Please."

He took a drink of water and pushed his tray away, folding his arms in front of him. "I will just say, none of us in Slytherin were raised to respect other magical creatures. I'd rather give him the benefit of the doubt and hope he's grown up. Like we all have."

"Astoria does. Care about magical creatures I mean."

"She's different."

Hermione ignored the respectful way he'd said it and the twist of jealousy she felt. "How so?"

"Her whole family is. They weren't raised the way the rest of us were."

"Daphne didn't seem to suffer for the difference."

Draco gave her a look. "Daphne was the prettiest girl in Slytherin. But she was kind, despite also being shrewd and ambitious. None of the girls wanted to be her enemy." He was thoughtful for a moment. "Blaise also stayed out of it. He was popular and all the girls, all over the school, liked him. I think part of what made him so popular was how little he cared about what others thought, including those of us playing at being good little pureblood minions. He spent his younger years in Nigeria, so he had no interest in Voldemort or his ideals." He chuckled, his expression distant, as though deep in a memory. "Blaise wanted to rule his own kingdom. I was so envious of him. Of his nonchalance, the cavalier way he spoke of things that, to me, were sacred. He wanted to date Ginny, which was anathema to a Slytherin, but he didn't give a rat's arse."

Hermione already knew about Blaise's interest in Ginny because Harry had overheard it. "You were rather popular, yourself, I seem to recall."

He shrugged. "In a way. With certain people. I certainly had no issue with the status quo. But then everything I'd been raised to believe rushed up at me faster than I could think—as much as I could think as a spoiled kid at sixteen—and before I could blink, I'd pledged allegiance to Voldemort. I let someone put a mark on me, brand me like a bloody cow."

"You were young—"

Draco held up a hand to stop her. "Don't do this again, don't try to make excuses for me. I was old enough. And we've had this conversation already, and no matter what anyone says, I maintain that I had some responsibility in the matter. I may have been scared out of my mind, but I believe I could have found a way. Even though I didn't know it then, even though I couldn't have imagined it, I should have found a way. Snape offered me help. I could have taken it."

Hermione didn't say anything. Any time this topic had come up before, Draco had refused to let himself off the hook completely. She struggled with it, knowing that he was partly right but also knowing that he'd been in a nearly impossible situation. But she respected him too much to argue about how she thought he should feel. He'd discussed it thoroughly with her once, back when he first started spending time with her and her friends. He'd apologized for everything that had happened between them, and she'd easily forgiven him.

"I am sorry to hear that work is not something you can discuss freely with Marcus. As you said, everyone should have someone to confide in. Or even just someone to vent to about something that happened."

"Yes!" she cried, slapping the table for emphasis. The sound echoed louder than she expected, and she glanced around the room to see that the cafeteria was essentially empty. Workers were busy putting chairs on tables so they could run a magical mop over the floor. She covered her mouth with her hand, grinning wildly at him. "Draco! We're closing down the cafeteria!"

His responding smile was one of those that made her heart skip. "Guess we should get back to work."

They quickly cleared their table and deposited their trash where it belonged. A worker gave them a very skeptical, unimpressed look as she took their trays. Hermione grinned as Draco lightly pulled her arm, leading her toward the lift.

"Harry never stays this long," she observed.

Draco pushed the button to call the lift. "I'm probably missing a meeting right now."

She gasped, horrified but laughing. "Isn't that bad?"

"What are they going to do, fire me?" He shook his head with a confident smirk. "Potter and I are the best team they've got."

Once the lift came, they both got on and pressed the buttons for their respective floors. She wondered briefly when she might see him again; he'd even taken a step back from Foundation things. "Will you be at the Manor tomorrow?"

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "No, I won't. What will I be missing?"

"Oh, nothing really. Your mother and I are getting together to discuss something work related. About that new Quidditch stadium, actually. Wondered if I'd see you."

"Ah, I see." He smiled apologetically. "Unfortunately I've got other plans, but I'm sure she's looking forward to it." The bell dinged, indicating that they'd reached his floor. "Well, see you soon, Hermione."

"Bye, Draco." She gave him a small wave, feeling a heavy weight settle in her heart as he disappeared down the hall. She hadn't quite realized it until he'd sat down to join her for lunch, but she now knew she'd missed him terribly. And with no idea when their paths would cross, she felt a surprising sense of loss.

Saturday, MAY 27

Diagon Alley was packed, but that wasn't unusual for a Saturday evening. Hermione had spent the afternoon with Marcus, and their date had ended after tea. Now she had a little time to kill before she was due to join Ginny and Pansy for dinner.

Marcus has been decidedly more physical that day—holding her hand, brushing against her, putting his arm around her—which Hermione supposed was a logical progression in their relationship. She didn't know where they stood, but she was realizing that he had become attached to her far more quickly than she had to him. She wasn't sure exactly how to navigate the situation. He was most certainly ready for more, physically speaking, but she most certainly was not. He hadn't said anything about it, but she could tell. She'd been grateful for a reason to ask for an afternoon outing, instead of something at night, where something more might be expected.

Of course, her pesky, persistent feelings for Draco weren't disappearing on their own, even though she'd only seen him once in May. She suspected that had something to do with the slow progression of her relationship with Marcus.

They'd been dating for over two months, if she counted the night in the pub when they met, but because of her strict social boundaries, they hadn't seen each other very much in that time. After their date, Hermione was beginning to think Marcus wouldn't be satisfied with the low frequency for much longer. However, if he wanted to be with her at all, he'd have to respect her wishes. She'd told him what she was doing with her schedule, that she'd deliberately trimmed it so she could choose the best ways to spend her time.

His response had been to smirk and retort, "Well now you've got me to fill your time!"

She'd bristled slightly, but realized he was probably joking—mostly. Though it had been one of her intentions, at the beginning of the year, that in scaling back her commitments, she'd find time for romance. Instead, she was finding time to do things that truly made her soul sing. Little things, like her almost daily walks to the park down the street from her flat, a new favorite café, and fresh flowers in her home as often as possible. She was really enjoying her Magical Art classes, but she'd had to stop the cooking classes in April. They'd been too frequent and she'd started to feel that her calendar was too full. And that was infinitely better than romance, she thought. Or, at least, she wasn't eager to fill her time with just anybody she was dating. No. She would stick to limiting her availability and if she found herself falling wildly in love with someone, only then would she reconsider.

Hermione arrived at the restaurant where Ginny had made a reservation. She was a few minutes early, so she decided to wait outside for her friends. It was such a lovely evening, after all.

Pansy showed up very soon after Hermione, and she grinned, giving Hermione a quick hug. "You look nice. I'm guessing that dress isn't for us."

"No, I spent the afternoon with Marcus." Hermione smiled.

Pansy quirked an eyebrow. "Things seem to be going well in that department."

Hermione shrugged. "I think they are. Slow, but good." She saw Ginny a few feet away, walking uncomfortably down the sidewalk. She was very pregnant and had one hand under her belly as though to support the weight. Hermione waved.

Ginny returned the gesture with a curt greeting, passing them on her way into the restaurant. "Let's go. I'm hungry."

Hermione and Pansy followed, and soon they were all seated and perusing the menu.

"I want carbs." Ginny set her menu down. "I'm just going to ask what dish has the most."

Pansy frowned. "You should take care of yourself, Ginny. What goes on must come off."

Ginny may have been over eight months pregnant, but her reflexes were as sharp as ever, and she lightly smacked Pansy's hand with the flat edge of her knife. "That's a terrible thing to say to a pregnant woman. I'd like to see you manage it when it's your turn. Then come to me with tales of woe and misery and a hunger that never ends and see what sympathy you get."

Someone came and took their orders, Ginny sticking her tongue out at Pansy after ordering a giant bowl of pasta with cream sauce.

"Hermione had a date with Marcus today." Pansy spoke as soon as the waiter left, clearly hoping to turn the conversation in another direction.

Ginny's eyes widened and she rubbed her hands together. "Excellent. He's very handsome. I like looking at his picture in the paper. So how are things?" Then she gasped. "Oh! We haven't talked since the Quidditch game!"

Hermione bit her lip. "Yeah, I was thinking about that. What did you all think?"

Pansy and Ginny exchanged a look.

"What?" Hermione demanded. "You two have already discussed this?"

"You haven't been to The Burrow since then," Pansy replied defensively. "What were we supposed to do? Wait for you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Did everyone join this little chat?" When neither of them would look her in the eye, she huffed. "Fine. Everyone has talked about my dating life. Just lovely. So what's the consensus?"

Again, they hesitated. Then Ginny spoke up. "We liked him. He's a touch on the arrogant side—"

Pansy snorted. "Understatement."

"—But we think it's mostly harmless." Ginny gave Pansy a hard stare. "He was decent, not terribly hung up on things from school days, and he was good to you. And as I said before, nice to stare at."

"Pansy?" Hermione knew that of anyone at the game, she had the most experience with Marcus, with his family, and with the world in which Marcus lived.

"I'm with Ginny. Although, the two of you together aren't as… what's the word… something like sparkly?" She scrunched her nose in thought. "I can't explain it. It just seems… fine. Fine. Perfectly fine. Which is fine, don't get me wrong. But you said it was going slow?"

Hermione felt a little defensive. "It's nothing terribly serious at this point, but I'm having fun. I like Marcus. I am happy with slow right now. He makes me feel… nice. It's not sparkly, at least not right now, but who knows what the future holds? Whenever I'm with him, I want to see him again, so until that changes, I'll keep going."

Pansy eyed her critically, then shrugged, flipping her hair over her shoulder as though she hadn't a care in the world. "Ron and I were sparkly from the first instant he kissed me. I knew then that I never wanted him to stop kissing me."

Ginny groaned. "Enough, already!" She looked at Hermione in exasperation. "She just loves to tell me all about her intimate relationship with my brother. I want to claw my eardrums out most of the time."

"It's really fun." Pansy nudged Hermione with her elbow. "Did you ever torture her with stories of you and Ron between the sheets?"

Hermione cringed. "No. We mutually agreed never to speak of our sex lives because I was with Ron and she was with Harry, who's like a brother to me."

"Ah. Well I don't care if she tells me all about her and Potter." Pansy grinned mischievously. "As a general rule, it's hard to make Ginny squirm, so I'll take what I can get."

"Are you getting him anything for your six-month anniversary?" Ginny asked, pointing her fork at Pansy. "He's been stressing about what to get you ever since you gave him that bloody Snitch in March. He knows he can't top that, but he's desperate to try."

Pansy cackled with glee. "Oh, I do adore him. I can think of plenty of things he can do to me that would more than suffice."

Ginny looked like she'd just swallowed something awful. "I don't want to know. Sorry I asked."

Pansy smirked triumphantly and sipped from her glass of wine. "Or I'll ask him to marry me."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "What?"

Ginny squealed and threw her arms around Pansy, threats of excessive coital information forgotten. "That's so exciting!"

"You've not even been together six months!" Hermione cried in disbelief and maybe a little bit of jealousy.

"Nah. I knew right away with Harry, too." Ginny was still grinning. "Once we actually started dating and moved past the war, the post-war efforts, and working through our issues from school. I had a good feeling from the moment I really saw him. Took him a little longer, but we got there." Her hand dropped absently to her belly.

Pansy patted Herminoe's hand. "Just because you don't feel that with Marcus right now doesn't signify anything. I mean, you can't very well go by what makes sense. Just look at Draco and Astoria."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, taking a drink of water.

"She's been in love with him for years, right?" Pansy leaned forward, as though she were going to share something she shouldn't. "So, then he finally asks her out, for whatever reason, and they have one date—his foundation's fundraiser, not what I'd have done, but I'm not Draco and he didn't ask my opinion—which he should have—and then that's it. The end. He decides he's seen enough."

Hermione definitely wanted to hear more on this topic, even though she knew it didn't have anything to do with her and did not affect her in any way. "If you can know someone is right quickly, it seems to reason that you can know something doesn't work just as quickly."

Pansy pointed her fork at her. "I don't disagree. I'm on Draco's side. But there are a lot of people with loud opinions who say he didn't give her a fair shot. I hear her mother even formally requested that Narcissa require him to see Astoria one more time."

"You're lying!" Ginny exclaimed.

"I'm not. I'm completely sincere. Daphne told Tracey, Tracey told Millie, and Millie told me." Pansy smiled dreamily. "I wish I could have seen Narcissa's face. I imagine it was quite spectacular. That woman can be scary when she's crossed."

"I wish I could've seen it too," Hermione agreed. "I think she'd have a quiet, finely-focused wrath; she has a gaze that could bore through steel. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it."

Pansy tutted. "You don't have to worry about that. She adores you."

"She really does." Ginny nodded in agreement. "It's kind of amazing, actually. I was just telling Harry the other day that it's so surreal that you're friends with her. Actual friends. Not just acquaintances, not just someone who works for her. You have tea with her, don't you?"

"Occasionally," Hermione replied. Her friendship with Narcissa surprised her just as much as everyone else.

Ginny sighed as she set down her fork on her empty plate. "Would it be terrible to order another plate of this?"

Hermione laughed while Pansy shook her head in disapproval. They'd both been waiting for Ginny to finish, and now that she had, Hermione grabbed the dessert menu. "Would you rather do that? Or eat this giant piece of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate shavings?"

ooo

When Hermione reached the inside of her flat, she was still grinning. As she shed her layers, kicking off her shoes and rubbing her feet, she actually laughed at something Pansy had said while Ginny proceeded to consume more than her fair share of the cake. Her cheeks hurt from laughing so much. Hermione started water for a cup of tea, changed into something very comfortable, and when her drink was ready, took it to her favorite chair.

The evening had been wonderful. There were no other words for it. The time with her friends, relaxed and free, not trying to impress anyone, had been just what she'd needed. She was glad she'd accepted Ginny's invitation to dinner, though she rather thought the threat from Pansy had been unnecessary. Still, it was nice getting out and doing something just for her.

If she'd still been keeping up with her work social obligations, she'd never have had the energy for a casual dinner out on a Saturday night, to say nothing of a date before it, as well.

The following weekend would be June; Hermione couldn't quite believe how quickly the year was passing, despite her reduced social load. When she'd first decided to change things, she'd expected for the weeks to drag. Perhaps they had at first, before she'd found things to fill her time that also fulfilled her, but now they seemed to speed by. After thinking about it, she wondered if time was going so quickly because she was enjoying almost everything she did. She actually looked forward to the next thing on her calendar, rather than dreading half of her appointments.

The one thought that brought a shadow into her mind was that she missed Draco. But that would change; his travel would slow and he'd be around more. A niggling thought wormed its way into her brain that it would be strange for her if she started bringing Marcus to things where Draco would also be in attendance.

One thing was certain: she was happier than she'd ever been. And despite the rapidity with which the days now passed, the memories were sweeter, the conversations richer, and the time with those she loved most longer. Most of all, her days were truly worth remembering.