Hermione waited in line at the bakery, breathing in the intoxicating smells of cinnamon and nutmeg. She was meeting with George at the joke shop to look over some of his new ideas and she had promised him and Valerie some sweets. It was the least she could do after Valerie introduced her to the heavenly pastries from Hoot Hoot Café all those months ago. They had gotten her through many a gruelling study session. The bakery was very busy, and often had queues going out the door. Looking behind her, Hermione realised she had the ill fortune to be queuing next to Narcissa Malfoy.
'Miss Granger,' Narcissa greeted her with a nod, and then looked away.
Hermione wasn't sure how to interpret that. The news of her parentage had been splashed all over the papers for the last two weeks. Of course Narcissa Malfoy would never be so gauche as to stare at her like a zoo animal the way the other café patrons did. Had the surname Granger been a slight against her, a sly dig that she wasn't 'worthy' of the names of her biological parents? Before the news broke, would Narcissa have acknowledged her at all, or merely treated her like an annoying bug buzzing past her head?
Before Hermione could decide on an answer, she saw the tell-tale flash of light from one of the Prophet's cameras. She had learnt to recognise it by the orange tint to the flash that the other news crews lacked.
'Miss Granger!' shouted an unfamiliar journalist in an elegant pantsuit. 'Any comments for the Prophet?'
Hermione just turned her back to the camera and ignored her, praying that she could still manage to get her sweets.
'Not even about your affair with Draco Malfoy? Is it true that you've been having sex with a Death Eater behind The Chosen One's back?'
Hermione couldn't help a violent twitch at that, but soon regained her composure and stared straight ahead, focusing on a fluffy blueberry Danish for comfort. After a few shouts, each framing a headline more sensational than the last, Hermione finally relented.
'I have not seen Mr. Malfoy since our N.E. examinations at Hogwarts. Examinations in which I believe I've broken a record for the number of N.E. attempted. Perhaps you could find room for that fact in your next gossip column?'
The journalist scribbled down a few words, but it clearly wasn't the quote she was looking for. She continued to hurl questions at Hermione, though she acted as though she were proclaiming them to the whole café in general, with no attempt at discretion.
'Ms. Turner!' Narcissa Malfoy was waving down the owner of the café in a friendly manner. The journalist almost dropped her notebook in shock. Clearly she had been unaware of Narcissa's presence when she was shouting out insults about her son.
Narcissa gave Ms. Turner a bright smile. 'I do believe that under the new media laws you have the right to evict this young lady for obstruction of your establishment. Her camera is just so unwieldy, I'm afraid one of your poor customers will have an accident.' The laws in question had been passed by the Wizengamot with ease after a senator tripped over the equipment of a journalist and broke his leg.
A matronly lady in an apron appeared on the scene, and gestured firmly for the journalist to leave. 'I do believe that is correct. My dear husband Peter is a lawyer, so I suppose I could ask him for his opinion if we need clarification?'
Faced with the dual assault from two ladies with icy smiles, the journalist soon departed. The owner gave Narcissa a nod and retreated back to her counter.
Hermione tried very hard to sink in to the floor, but Narcissa was unaccommodating.
'You have had friendly interactions with Draco?' Narcissa asked pleasantly, as though they were making small talk.
Hermione considered giving her the same deceptive non-answer she had given the journalist, but she knew it would be a losing battle. 'We were involved for a little while, but the relationship has ended now.'
'Hmm,' was all the reply Narcissa gave.
Hermione realised she had reached the front of the queue, and seized on the opportunity to turn away. She ordered a box of pastries, but forwent the coffee she had been craving so she could escape more quickly.
'Have a nice day,' she threw out, half-facing the waitress and half-facing Narcissa, then scurried out the door.
She thought over the encounter as she walked over to the joke shop. She didn't know what to make of Narcissa Malfoy. She was definitely not a good or decent person. She had escaped serious punishment after the war on the balance of her husband and sister having died in battle, being unmarked herself, the lack of witnesses willing to accuse her of anything, and gossip that she had 'saved' The Chosen One at a pivotal moment. Hermione knew she had been knee-deep in the Death Eater world during both wars, and she was surely very guilty of something. And yet, she had saved the life of Hermione's best friend, whatever her motives. She also had some good references. Draco was incredibly fond of her. Andromeda Tonks was regretful at the loss of her sister. And reading between the lines of his journals, Severus Snape had some regard for her. There were entries relating to potions ingredients gathered from the Malfoy greenhouses, which always referred to Narcissa rather than Lucius. And he had accepted the position of Draco's godfather, which was no small burden. But then people could be deceived, and if ever anyone had hidden depths it was Narcissa Malfoy. The only way she could really settle the question of her character was to know her for herself. And ex-lover aside, that seemed very unlikely, a thought that gave her immense relief. Hermione traipsed into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, where her sweets earned her a warm welcome, and banished all thoughts of Narcissa Malfoy from her mind.
What Hermione hadn't shared with the paparazzi or Narcissa Malfoy was that she had plans to meet Draco for coffee later that night. They were meeting at the same café where they had shared hot chocolate on their first 'date'. Hermione had organised the meeting with some reservations. She had considered just saying her piece in a letter, but had decided some things needed to be said face-to-face, no matter how uncomfortable.
He was already seated at a table in the corner when she arrived. Hermione busied herself with removing her coat and draping it on the back of her chair, and then with scanning the very short menu. He watched her intently the entire time. After ordering a special chilli latte to justify her long perusal of the menu, she picked up her satchel off the floor and passed it to Draco. It was an innocuous-looking brown leather satchel, and she was ashamed to say that she had spent an hour trying to pick out the right one at a bag shop.
Draco wasn't an idiot. 'I told you, the journals belong to you now,' he said, without looking in the bag. 'They're your legacy from your father.'
Hermione shook her head, smiling. It was amazing the difference a few weeks and a good dose of reading could do. She still wouldn't call Snape her father, but she didn't feel as bitter about the connection anymore. The sharp edge had worn off. Reading his words had highlighted both the zealous pursuit of knowledge that they had in common, and also the fundamental differences of personality between them. She felt like she understood his criticism of her academic efforts a bit more. She didn't agree with them, of course, but she understood that a small portion of it had been from genuine differences in philosophy, not just from spite.
'I'm glad I had the chance to look at them, they were an engrossing read and more than a little inspiring. But they aren't my legacy. I need to forge my own path, pursue my own projects, not finish Snape's. I admire his work, but our academic styles clash too much. They should go to someone who can make use of them, turn the theory into practice. I was hoping you would be up for the challenge.'
Draco contemplated her words for a long moment. 'Are you sure?' he asked. She could see the eagerness he was holding back, the way his eyes were drawn to the satchel.
'I'm sure. I have big plans to look for an apprenticeship after I get my N.E. results. I need to work from the ground up. But if you ever want some help with any of those journal ideas, I could be persuaded to join in. I flagged a few pages.'
'Just say the word. I think we could make a great team.'
His smile was a shade too charming for Hermione's comfort, so she gave him her iciest look. 'Well, if you mess it up, your name will be on the work, not mine.'
He kept smiling, apparently finding her meanness unconvincing. 'I'm glad that you found something to work towards. I was concerned before. You never showed much interest in anything beyond the N.E. , you seemed to be missing your famous ambition.'
Hermione clenched her fists under the table, and considered throwing it in his face that Luna had said the same thing about him. That Luna had thought he was so pathetic that he needed saving. But Luna had told her that in confidence, in the dark of night. What happens in the tent, stays in the tent.
'I hear Luna invited you to dinner,' she said instead, aiming for polite small talk.
'Yep,' Draco replied. 'We're all very chummy now. The snakes and the ravens and the lions. Like a zoo. It was a good thing Nott was there or I would have been outnumbered.'
'I wasn't sure if you two were friendly at Hogwarts,' Hermione said.
'We were unfriendly. Your brother thought I was a spoilt idiot, as he so kindly shared with me at dinner. But neither of us is winning popularity contests these days, so I suppose we'll become allies at least.'
'Hmm. Well, I should be heading home,' Hermione said, not wanting to get too deeply drawn into conversation with her ex.
He brushed her hand with his as she stood up. 'Are you sure? I thought maybe we could hang out some more. Maybe pick up where we left off?' His eyes were practically smouldering at her.
She stepped back from the table. 'It doesn't work like that. I haven't been sitting around waiting for you to come back. My plans don't involve you at all, except maybe for some small talk at Luna's next gathering, and only if every other person in the room is silenced first.'
'Hermione,' he pleaded.
'No,' she cut him off, holding up her hand. 'I understood your reasons for ending things between us, but it still hurt. I came here tonight to dispose of Snape's journals in a sensible way, not to make nice with you. You walked away, and now I'm doing the same.'
After a few steps, she turned back. 'Oh, and some paparazzi were asking questions about us, so there might be some scandal in the papers. But that doesn't change a thing.'
She had considered letting him know that Narcissa was aware of their relationship, but she was still mad at him, and the thought of him being ambushed by his mother made her smile a little on her walk to the Apparation point.
Hermione had dropped by the pastry shop for the second time today, blessing their late hours. As she walked into Grimmauld Place she yelled 'free dessert!' There was a predictable thudding of feet on the stairs as Harry and Ginny raced each other to the kitchen. Ginny had been spending an awful lot of time at Grimmauld Place lately, and Hermione had started to factor her into their grocery shopping. Today, she had bought two chocolate croissants because she knew they were Ginny's favourite. Harry digged right into his own sweet standing at the bench, a bizarre liquorice twist that made her cringe every time she looked at the oozing black goo. Ginny was more cautious, taking her time to grab a plate from the cupboard and sit down at the table, giving Hermione wary looks, as though she suspected poison but still couldn't resist the temptation.
She was right to be concerned. Hermione waited until both of their mouths were full before dropping her bombshell. 'So, I thought I should give you a heads up that the press are about to break the news of my affair with Draco Malfoy. It was over weeks ago, but you know what the press are like, dogs with a bone.'
The looks on their faces were priceless. Harry actually spat out a mouthful of liquorice onto his shirt, and then dropped his glasses as he scrambled to clean it up. Ginny was a little more dignified in her shock, barely stopping in her devouring of her croissant. 'Really? I had no idea you'd even spoken to Malfoy since the war.' Munch, munch. 'I suppose it makes sense though, from hate to love and all of that. Did you have a thing for him back at Hogwarts?'
'No way,' Hermione said. 'I vaguely thought about him the way you consider everyone as a potential boy-like datable person at that age, even the jerks, but he was never my cup of tea. Too whiny. Honestly I think Harry had more chemistry with Malfoy at Hogwarts, all that brooding at each other between insults.'
'Draco Malfoy!' Harry shouted wildly, waving his glasses around in his left hand, which fortunately was the hand not covered in liquorice. Hermione couldn't tell if he was protesting the idea of her romantic affair with Draco, or his own, which had been exactly her intention in baiting him.
'Well, I suppose if you feel that strongly about Draco I could step aside,' Ginny told Harry. 'Who am I to stand in the way of true love?'
'Me too,' Hermione said. 'I'll waive girl code in this instance. Like I said, my fling with Malfoy is over. He's all yours.'
Harry grunted incoherently, and stormed off to his room, probably planning to scream in his pillow or vent in a letter to Ron about the torments of women.