A/N: I think I've deliberated over the direction of this chapter enough. We're very near the end. Thank goodness.

Hermione leans back in her chair and grins at the flurry of text messages taking up her home screen though the one from Tom is the only one that makes her stomach clench with anticipation. She flicks her eyes around the small cafe she's been frequenting more and more regularly for her lunch break, conveniently around the corner from her new job at The British Museum, and unlocks her phone.

She ignores the messages from Draco, Daphne - even Theo and opens only Toms asking her for her favourite books - both fiction and non - and about the school she went to.

My favourite book is Little Women by Louisa Alcott. My mum read it to me almost every night at my request when I was younger and then when I learned to read myself I wore through two copies because I never had it out of my hand. Jo was just - she knew what she wanted and she didn't apologise for it. My favourite non fiction is a series of small articles by Bathilda Bagshot. She was a historian who wrote a series of pieces about some of the major cities and occult attractions throughout the country. I met her when I was fifteen and became enamoured with historiography.

She takes a bite of her sandwich and shuffles her chair a fraction to let the old lady behind her leave.

I went to private school. Twenty miles from where I lived but my parents were determined that I shouldn't have to suffer because I was more eager than my peers. It's where I met Draco.

She bites down on her lip and wonders about telling him the extent of her relationship with the blonde.

He teased me for being common for three years until one day we got into such a fight I ended up smacking him then snogging him behind the janitors hut.

Classy Granger

He replies and Hermione smothers a laugh. A week ago she would think he was degrading her but she's more familiar with his tone now.

How's your lunch break?

Over

Hermione bites her lip and takes a breath.

We're always missing each other. Maybe we could go to dinner one night this week instead so we can have an actual conversation.

She tries not to take it personally when she reads his reply.

I'm on the nine thirty eurostar out of Kings Cross tonight and on the continent for the next few days with work. Raincheck?

Hermione abandons her half eaten sandwich and drains her flat white, the bitter taste twisting her stomach.

Raincheck.

Where are you?

At work

Wanna join me and tori for dinner? Been a while since we caught up.

Hermione frowns and slumps back in her desk chair. He's not wrong. But remembering the last time she saw Draco reminds her of how long it's been since she's seen Tom.

She closes her text thread with Draco and fires a quick one off to Tom.

Are you free tonight? We could have a late dinner and you could tell me about Paris?

I'm having dinner with my mother unfortunately. We'll have to sort something out though. I got you a gift.

"Hermione?" She glances up and spots her supervisor looking into her office. "Do you have a minute?" Hermione nods and stands.

"Of course," she replies. She flicks her fingers across the screen of her phone and shoves it into her desk drawer.

No worries.

Are you alive?

Hermione glances at the message from Harry and rolls her eyes before she turns back over in bed and promptly ignores it.

I'm sorry I've been awol. How are you?

Hermione's fingers hover over the letters as she determines what to text back. She's been busy with work but other than that she's been tired and irritable.

Lonely.

She knows that work is about to calm down now that the Egyptology exhibition she's been working on for the past month is opening to the public. She imagines that helping to run the company your father built isn't easy but if Tom doesn't have time to even catch up for dinner as friends…

Hi. I'm good. Work is about to become a lot easier so not too many more late nights for me. How's everything your end?

She jumps when not thirty seconds later her phone rings and Tom's name flashes on the screen.

She takes a deep breath and smiles as she answers. "Hello?"

"HEY!" He shouts and Hermione almost drops her phone at the volume. "Where are - shit sorry mate - sorry! Hi. Where are you?"

Hermione blinks and pulls her phone down to make sure it is in fact Tom who's calling her. "At home?"

"Great. My colleague just got engaged and we're headed to a pub around the corner from my place."

"Oh."

He hums. "Yeah. So I was wondering if you wanted to join us?"

She bolts upright in her bed and glances at the corner of her laptop screen. Nine Thirty. Not too late to be considered a booty call but definitely too late to turn up in a little black dress and say she was simply lying about in it. "Ammm-"

"Only if you want to of course. No pressure. Just thought it would be nice to see you." He's moved somewhere quieter, probably outside and Hermione can almost hear the strain of what she hopes is want, in his voice.

She grins into her phone and nods to herself. "Yeah no that um sounds great. See you in about twenty minutes?"

Please tell me I didn't embarrass myself last night? Other than the karaoke. I don't specifically remember it but Avery has forwarded a clip of me and him singing A-Ha to raucous applause. I want to die.

Hermione snorts into her afternoon tea and Draco, who's finally had enough of her ghosting and simply showed up to take her to lunch, lifts an eyebrow at her. She shakes her head. "Don't ask."

He hums, conspiratorially, and Hermione can't help the grin that splits her face. "Tom?"

She bites her lip and meets his eye, nodding. "Yeah." He smirks and nods and Hermione rolls her eyes and slips her phone back into her bag. "Shut up."

Draco laughs and holds his hands up in surrender when Hermione's foot collides with his shin. "That's fine. Don't tell me. Just don't be surprised when two Greengrass sisters show up and demand details."

Hermione drops her head into her hand and groans.

After Draco's warning she's not totally surprised when the Greengrass sisters do in fact turn up at her flat the following Friday night. The only thing she actually wants to do is curl up in the bath with a glass of wine and a book after a long day cataloging misappropriated artefacts but she knows there's no way she's getting out of this.

No matter how much she pouts.

"I don't want to go on a girls night."

"Tough."

Hermione glares up at Daphne. "Why are you so mean to me?" Her gaze swivels to Astoria. "Why is she so mean to me?"

Astoria laughs and Daphne grins and Hermione finds herself persuaded into slipping on a little black dress, shoved into heels which she would normally have felt to be too high, bundled into a black cab and heading into London's night.

Hermione has lost count of how many drinks she's downed.

Lost count of how many people she's danced with and how many requests to "go for a chat" she's turned down on top of all of that.

She focuses on the idea that all that matters is that she is having a good time with her friends.

She's sitting, in the booth they managed to snag almost immediately upon arrival, with Daphne as they watch the other patrons enjoy themselves.

Hermione spots more than half a dozen mated alpha and omega pairs and her heart pangs and her stomach clenches and she definitely should not start thinking about Tom because she's had a lot to drink and there's almost nothing stopping her from jumping in a cab and going to him.

"Are you ok?"

Hermione meets Daphne's eyes and she nods but she needs to get out of here and get some fresh air.

Before she does something reckless.

She takes Daphne's hand and doesn't stop moving until they're outside and she can breathe air not clogged with alpha pheromones.

"I'm so horny!" Hermione gasps, still barely able to catch her breath and Daphne bursts into laughter.

Hermione nudges her with her elbow as she leads them to the tiny wall outside of the club. "Shut up." She takes a long draught from the water bottle Daphne offers her and smiles at her friend. "What about you?" She smirks. "How are your alpha's?"

Daphne's face pales and Hermione's heart stutters at her next words.

"I'm not with Theo."

Hermione drags in a breath. "What?"

"I'm not -" Daphne laughs and Hermione feels a lick of shame spread through her at Daphne's broken expression.

It's a look that makes her feel like a terrible friend.

"He doesn't want to be a triad." Daphne's answer is even more of a blow. "He just wants to be friends."

"Is that - are you ok with that?"

"I don't know. I love him so much. But I - if he asked me to leave Harry - Hermione," Daphne takes a deep, shuddery breath. "The thought alone..."

Hermione presses her hand into Daphne's. "So you're not together. Not even a little?"

"Not even a little," Daphne whispers.

"I'm so sorry." She pulls Daphne into her arms.

Before she came home she didn't even know the other woman and now she considers her one of her closest friends.

"It's ok," Daphne reassures. "If we had been meant to be, well," she twists where they are sitting on the wall and smiles at Hermione. "I wouldn't have fallen for Harry so quickly."

Hermione swallows. "I don't know what to say."

Daphne shrugs. "You don't have to say anything. My point is. Theo is supposed to be my Soulmate. And I'm supposed to be his. But we both know that being together isn't what's best for us." She sighs and catches Hermione's hand in her own, threading their fingers together. "How are you really? Draco mentioned that you'd been texting Tom."

Hermione nods and can't help her smile. "Yeah."

Daphne squeaks and Hermione laughs. "Are you official yet?"

Hermione shakes her head. "No but I…" she trails off and takes a deep breath. "I want to be. I want to be his. I want to belong and I know," she grips Daphne's hand tight and smiles at her friend. "I know I shouldn't care. That my self worth isn't measured by the love of a man but that doesn't mean I don't want to be. I can still be a boss ass independent bitch at work and come home to someone who loves me without thought. I deserve that. I want that. I was literally made for him. Why shouldn't I want that?"

"You've been reading that book of yours again," Daphne laughs and Hermione blushes. Daphne sighs. "How long have you been in love with him?"

Hermione presses her the palms of her hands to her eyes and shrugs.

"Hermione!"

"Since before I left," she mumbles, peeking through her fingers to see Daphne laughing and shaking her head.

Daphne nods and stands. Hermione watches her smooth the skirt of her dress and wipe away the ruined mascara that has streaked down her cheeks with the backs of her thumbs. Hermione laughs and catches her hands when she sways. "You need to go to him."

"Who?"

"Tom. Now."

"What? Why?"

Daphne is ignoring her though, and as opposed to actually answering her is tugging her towards the taxis that are lined up around the block waiting. "You need to tell him you love him now."

"You're insane," Hermione laughs. "No wait Daphne. I can't!" She protests when she's been shoved into the back of a taxi. Daphne slams the door shut and Hermione winds the window down and Daphne leans into the car through it.

"Go and tell him and if he doesn't accept it, or if he doesn't care, well then fuck him," she grins, nodding eagerly before her eyes widen and her jaw drops. "Don't actually fuck him though!" She adds hastily and Hermione laughs. "Just like, in the proverbial sense."

"Ok."

Daphne grins. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Are you going home?"

"Nahhhh. Harry and Malfoy are coming to pick me and Tori up soon. I'll call you tomorrow ok?" She doesn't give Hermione a chance to reply, simply stands back and bangs her hand on the back of the cab and Hermione can only blink when the cabby asks her for a destination.

She swallows, takes a deep breath, wipes her palms over her bare legs and gives him Tom's address.

Hermione considers telling the taxi driver to turn around and take her home half a dozen times before it's too late and they've pulled up outside of Tom's flat. He waves her off when she asks how much and mentions something about her blonde friend already sorting her fare out.

Somehow she manages to press all the numbers on the intercom to Toms building and gains entrance. She stumbles up the stairs to his flat and pounds on his front door. "Tom!" She yells as she knocks, grinning. "It's me!"

She's vaguely aware of the door across from Tom's opening but it's when the wave of alpha pheromones almost knock her on her ass that she sobers slightly and turns around. "Hi. Sorry," she swallows. She hooks her thumb in the direction of Tom's door. "I was just wondering if -"

"He went out. About an hour ago."

He doesn't give her any additional information and has already closed his front door by the time Hermione can process his answer.

She takes a deep breath and nods shuffling through her bag for her phone, groaning when she remembers the last time she saw it was when she tossed it on her bed while she was getting dressed.

Her mind runs away with itself as she walks home.

He's not home because he's with someone else.

A possibility since they are only getting to know one another. Even after spending the night with him and his colleagues the other evening Hermione knows they're nothing official. Tom had been the perfect gentleman and tucked her into a taxi with a kiss on the cheek before he'd stumbled home.

She stops in at the chippy around the corner from her flat and is shoving chips and curry sauce into her mouth, heels shoved into her bag so she doesn't trip and knock herself out on the landing, when she spots her visitor.

He's on the ground in front of her door and she briefly wonders how he got her address before she realises it doesn't actually matter because he's not with anyone else he's right there.

Waiting.

For her.

"You're drunk," he says looking up at her with eyes blacker than she's ever seen them.

His reaction only reminds her of the way he apparently acted at Draco's wedding.

She stops in front of him, offering him her hands and shudders when he takes them in his and strokes his fingers over her wrists, her glands.

"What are you doing here?" She can hear how breathy her voice sounds.

Tom pulls himself up and takes her keys and Hermione watches as he turns and opens her front door with a finesse she's never quite managed in the months she's lived there.

He glances at her over his shoulder, his dark eyes raking over her before meeting hers. "I want to talk."

Hermione bites her lip to stop a whimper escaping, and steps past him into her flat with a deep breath.