Roses are red
Violets are blue
I don't own Harry Potter
This is sad, but true
Thank you to my alpha/beta Littlered1992 – this chapter needed a complete rewrite and she was an actual champion supporting me to get it done.
Hope you enjoy :D xx
"Sorry to drag you away from your date," Blaise said quietly as they reached the front doors.
"Oh," Hermione felt her cheeks heat, "no…it wasn't a date…" she trailed off at the look on Blaise's face.
He looked like he wanted to argue with her but seemed to think better of it. "I met with Vivienne last night," he said, glancing over his shoulder as though he was expecting to be interrupted.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"And the plan is in motion," he grinned and Hermione felt herself recoil slightly at the implication in his eyes. "If I'd have wanted to sleep with her it would have only been too easy, but I like to play with my food first."
"Gross," Hermione's face contorted in disgust, "but good; I can't wait to see her go down."
"Neither can I," Blaise winked and Hermione feared the beautiful dinner Miksy had cooked may make another appearance.
"Sweet Circe, you are one disgusting human being."
His grin widened impossibly, all of his pearly white teeth on display. "I interrupted," he continued, lowering his voice, "because I wanted to tell you that I've arranged to see her tomorrow night. I'll take her back to a hotel room after dinner and seal the deal." His hand moved to the pocket inside his suit jacket and pulled out a thin business card. "Here," he held it out to her. "It's the address and room number; you should come by at ten o'clock. I'll have a key owled to – " He trailed off at the look on Hermione's face. "…or not?"
"Forgive me for not wanting to make it a threesome," she folded her arms tightly across her chest and averted her gaze.
"What an intriguing idea, Granger." Blaise purred.
"Get your head out of the gutter, Zabini," Hermione snapped. "I've already walked in on that woman writhing about naked with a man that wasn't hers to begin with, and once was more than enough – believe me. Doing it intentionally is the last thing I want." She hesitated and then brought her gaze back to Blaise, who was regarding her with something akin to pity. It made her stomach turn. "Is there another way?"
"Fine," Blaise rolled his eyes, feigning disappointment. "But I still think your threesome idea would be much more fun."
Hermione glared at him, and he grinned back. "You need serious help," she said flatly. "I'll look for your owl?" He nodded. "Excellent."
They stood looking at each other for a long moment, before Blaise tilted his head to the side and adopted a would-be-casual tone. "At the risk of being completely obvious, Granger," he said, "are you and Draco friends again?"
Hermione frowned at the change of topic. "I think so," she said slowly, "although I feel like I might have whiplash, the way he runs hot and cold all the time."
Blaise nodded sagely. "He can be difficult to work out sometimes."
There was a pause, and then before she could stop herself, Hermione blurted out; "I get the feeling that he likes me, as in that way, but then I think I must be completely mental to believe it…" She bit her lip as she met his gaze; his expression was blank. "Do you know anything?"
He offered her a shrug. "Do you like him in that way?"
"I – " Hermione paused, her mouth open; did she? And was she ready to admit it out loud, in front of Blaise? " – don't know." She finished lamely.
Blaise pursed his lips. His eyes glowed hot as he stepped forward to open the door for her. The night air whipped into the foyer and Hermione shivered as it swept her hair from her neck. "You're a smart woman, Granger," he said simply. "You'll figure it out."
Sensing that that was her cue to leave, Hermione bit down on the retort she longed to throw at Blaise. He was being deliberately obtuse, no better than the blond wizard who currently had her in knots…only she needed Blaise for the next phase of her plan; she would have to hold in her desire to smack him until she had undermined Vivienne at the Ministry.
"Thank you," she said stiffly as she crossed the threshold. "Goodnight."
"Ciao," Blaise smiled genuinely before clicking the door shut.
No sooner had the sound of Hermione's footsteps disappeared, Draco stormed into the foyer. His grey eyes flashed with unbridled anger as he came to stand in front of Blaise.
"Fuck you, Zabini!"
"Whoa!" Blaise held both hands up in a sign of surrender. "What did I do?"
"You said you wouldn't be home until the morning!"
"Oh yeah," Blaise grimaced as guilt flickered in his dark eyes. "Turns out Daphne isn't as willing as she once was." Draco screwed up his face in disgust. "Did you tell Hermione you have feelings for her?"
"I was about to, before you interrupted us!"
Blaise at least looked apologetic. "Sorry about that, mate."
Draco puffed out his cheeks and exhaled noisily. "Doesn't matter," he bit out. "I only would have made a prat of myself."
"What are you talking about?"
Draco laughed, a dark and humourless rumble which echoed around the room. "It's pretty obvious that she has a thing for you."
"Me?" Blaise spluttered. "You're insane."
"It's true," Draco shrugged, a rueful look gracing his features. "You were the first thing she asked about tonight and she didn't exactly protest when you swept her away from me just then." He placed his hands on his hips and began to pace.
The Italian wizard was silent for a few long minutes. When Draco finally raised his head to offer his friend a look of forlorn, Blaise was glaring at him with his mouth slightly ajar.
"What kind of fucked up potion have you been huffing, you complete and utter moron?"
"Excuse me?" Draco glowered. "It's me who should be calling you names, not the other way around."
"Are you kidding? Granger is as hopelessly giddy about you as you are of her; it makes me feel physically ill, the way you two look at each other. I swear to Merlin, if the tension between the pair of you gets any thicker, I'm going to have to start carrying a fucking sword just to enter rooms safely." His brown eyes flashed dangerously as he took a step forward and loomed over Draco.
"And I'm the one huffing potions?" Draco sneered, his grey eyes cold.
Blaise made a noise halfway between a laugh and a grunt and stood straight, his gaze still locked on to the blond's. "If you are honestly stupid enough to not see that Granger is into you, then I'm not going to waste my time trying to convince you otherwise. Goodnight."
He nodded curtly at the shocked blond and swept from the room.
On Monday morning, the day after Blaise and Vivienne's clandestine date was due to take place, Hermione rose with a new plan. She had spent the night mulling over Blaise's words:
"You're a smart witch, Granger. You'll figure it out."
She had never been particularly good when it came to talking about or expressing feelings, though her friends would probably argue she was far too adept at expressing anger. Hermione was comfortable with books and logic; things that could be explained with something tangible or reasonable; emotions were just too subjective and individual for her compartmentalised brain.
Rather than face the issue of her fiancé's infidelity, she had thrown herself into work; instead of confronting Harry about his behaviour a few weeks ago, she hung out with Malfoy. And therein, she figured, lay her problem. Amidst running from the emotional issues with past lovers and friends, she had tangled a web of feelings where the blond wizard was concerned, and she had no idea how to begin unknotting herself.
It wasn't as if she was in love with him – Merlin! She wouldn't even go so far as to call it a crush. But there was something there, something that was beginning to stir in her gut like an animal coming out of hibernation. Ignoring it did no good; it just became more insistent, gnawing on her insides and addling her senses.
Reducing the puzzle of Blaise's comment to logic would not work; if she wanted answers, she knew she would have to go directly to the source. Without bothering to owl ahead, Hermione showered and dressed, and then Floo'd over to Malfoy Manor.
She arrived in the grate of the sitting room, and found the reason for her broken night of sleep lounging on the couch. He was wearing a pair of reading glasses, his left foot resting on his right knee, and he had a paperback novel in his hands. He glanced up as she entered.
"Granger?" He closed the book, keeping his thumb between the pages to mark his spot. "What are you doing here?"
Hermione felt her mouth go dry as he gazed at her from behind the reflective lenses. Since when does Malfoy wear glasses? They look good – STOP IT! Hermione felt her cheeks heat as she stepped out of the fireplace.
"It's lovely to see you too, Malfoy." She adopted a haughty tone that fell only slightly flat and moved to perch in an armchair. "I came to see you."
"Me?"
"No," she deadpanned, grateful that his apparent shock gave her the opportunity to stabilise her heart rate again, "the other you."
Draco rolled his eyes. "What can I help you with? Is it something to do with the case?"
"Not exactly," she said slowly…damn her heart and its determination to escape her ribcage.
Hermione had thought about what she was going to say; she had memorised a speech last night as she lay in bed staring at the ceiling. But now that she was here, and his silver irises were meddling with her ability to form a coherent thought; this was not like her…and she was not pleased.
"I actually wanted to talk about you and I," she forced herself to say; her cheeks burned further and she wondered desperately if a spell had been invented to prevent such obvious displays of embarrassment.
"Have I done something to upset you?" Draco asked, his brow furrowing as he mulled over her words. "I thought my inviting you to dinner on Saturday was an obvious way of apologising for my behaviour last Friday; I – "
"Your invitation?" Hermione queried, her stomach flipping at the implication of his words. "I thought that it was Miksy's invitation." Her voice had a sly edge, and she was pleased to note the flush as it appeared on Draco's cheeks.
"You know what I mean, Granger." He muttered, averting his gaze.
"It's not something you've done," she assured him. "I was just laying in bed last night, and I got to thinking about something Blaise had said to me earlier." She attempted to keep her tone neutral and pleasant.
"Oh?"
She cleared her throat and dropped her gaze to her lap, his intense eyes too much for her to handle under such circumstances.
"It's just that, I don't really know where – oh!" A sharp rapping noise sounded from behind her and Hermione jumped. Twisting in her seat she could make out the shadow of a small animal on the other side of the window, the curtain blocking a direct view.
"It's probably a business letter for Blaise," Draco placed his book to the side and stood with a frustrated sigh. "Though I have no idea why it wouldn't just deliver it directly to him."
Hermione watched as Draco opened the window and held aside the curtain so that the bird could fly into the room. The blond reached out with his free hand, expecting the bird to pass on the letter to him; it was definitely Blaise's tawny owl, Khonsu. Exasperated, Draco followed the owl's path, but then stopped suddenly in his track as Khonsu landed on the arm of Hermione's chair.
He could tell by the look on her face that she had not been expecting a delivery, but the gaudy red bow sitting gingerly on a small ornate box had caused a rock to settle in his abdomen. As Hermione gingerly reached for the box, Draco could see her expression change from one of shock to unbridled excitement.
"Yes!" She squealed, cradling the box in both of her hands. She glanced up at him, her eyes shining, and he forced himself to swallow thickly against the torrent of emotion threatening to pour from his throat.
So this is why she came to see me, he thought bitterly as she offered him an unenthusiastic apology and disappeared back into the green flames of the Floo, so she could tell me that something is blossoming between her and Blaise…figures. He narrowed his eyes and snatched at the book again, turning on his heel to retire in his room for the rest of the day.
Landing back in her living room, Hermione headed straight for the couch and sat down, still mesmerised by the package in her hands. She pulled at the bow and let it slip through her fingers to the floor, busying herself with opening the rectangular box. Lifting the lid, her first reaction was triumph followed quickly by disgust.
She stamped down on that feeling though, and forced herself to pick up the photographs; the proof she had been waiting for. Blaise had sent her five moving images, each depicting a less than classy act which clearly demonstrated Vivienne's gross infidelity.
"Sweet Circe," Hermione blanched as she looked down at the photos. "You are one disgusting human, Blaise." As she went to return them to the box, Hermione noticed a small square of white parchment folded neatly at the bottom.
I hope these will suffice. If you require a moving image stream, please let me know.
Hermione noted that Blaise had not mentioned either of their names in the letter, and was pleased that he had the foresight to think about the possible implications if such a package was left in the wrong hands. Her grin spread wider; the plan had worked, and she was that much closer to reuniting the Malfoy family.
She thought of the blond man that had wormed his way so easily into her life without realising it. The past few months had been spent doing nothing but working towards the goal of releasing Narcissa and ensuring Draco would not be sent back to Azkaban. When she had quit her job, she had spent more days at the Manor in the library with her client than anywhere else.
Such a whirlwind of events had not given Hermione any time to reflect on the way Draco had become something more to her than just another client; she considered him her friend. Granted, he was still prickly and often rude, but she could not label it any other way – they were friends. She squirmed as she placed the lid back on the box and bent to retrieve the bow from the floor.
Just friends, she repeated to herself as a pair of grey eyes swirling like thunder clouds, taunting her as if they held an enticing Arithmancy problem, the answer just out of her reach. Harry was wrong, you proved that the other night….
But had she?
Hermione huffed and forced herself to stand, the box now clutched in her left hand, the bow still hanging limply from her right. She moved quickly to the study, pushing all thoughts of Draco Malfoy to the back of her mind.
"Your primary focus now," she commanded herself, "is to make copies and get to Vivienne." She nodded once, as if she was acknowledging the order she had given herself, and then set to work.
As she straightened a quarter of an hour later, she looked down at her work with a tight smile. The photographs were not easy to copy, as they were magical and moving, but Hermione had done a good enough job that she was sure that Vivienne would react the way Hermione hoped.
Unbidden, Draco once again resurfaced at the forefront of her mind, his mouth wide in a charming, unreserved smile as Hermione imagined telling him that she was one step closer to releasing his mother. She thought about the way his eyes would crinkle at the corner, the liquid silver orbs dancing with happiness that she had brought to them…
And I'm back to thinking of his eyes…she thought, exasperation twisting in her stomach.
Hermione checked her purse for the envelope of photographs for what felt like the umpteenth time; they were still there. She grinned to herself as she shifted in her seat, tugging at her pencil skirt.
"Granger," Vivienne's bored tone floated from inside the office and Hermione stood, her heart beating a staccato against her ribcage.
"Good afternoon, Vivienne," Hermione said brightly.
"What do you want?"
Hermione kicked the door shut behind her. "I think it's best if we're not interrupted during this little chat."
"What could you possibly have to say to me that would require a closed door?" The witch did not look up from her paperwork.
"I know you slept with Blaise."
Vivienne's head snapped up at that and Hermione smirked at the look of shock plastered on her face. "How do you know?"
"If I told you I orchestrated the whole thing, I have the feeling you wouldn't believe me…" Hermione's smirk widened, and she stepped closer to the desk.
"What do you want?" Vivienne's mask was back in place, but her voice betrayed her fear.
"Your job." Hermione stated simply.
Vivienne's lips twitched and she leaned back in her chair. "Why would I give up my job just because you know I slept with Blaise?"
"Because," Hermione rummaged in her purse and slapped the envelope down onto the desk, "I have proof."
Vivienne stretched out a trembling hand and pinched the envelope between thumb and forefinger. She dragged the stationery towards her and then gingerly pulled each of the moving photographs from the sheaf. She glanced up at Hermione, her face drained of colour.
"You know this is illegal, right?" Her voice was strangled. "Taking photos of someone against their will and then using them to get what you want is extortion."
Hermione shrugged, an expression of nonchalance hiding her true feelings of pure terror. Though she had longed to take Vivienne down for years, it was taking all of her Gryffindor courage to remain in the office. She knew that the blonde witch was getting what she deserved; but she also knew that Blaise was risking his reputation personally and professionally by helping her with this stunt.
"I feel like that would quickly be labelled a he-said-she-said case, Vivienne," her voice was low. "Are you prepared to run the risk of a very public trial, the context of which would require you to tell Ronald about your infidelity?"
Vivienne met her gaze and licked her lips. She was silent for a few long minutes, and Hermione feared that the blonde witch would hear the thudding of heart as it rebelled against her ribcage.
"What am I supposed to tell Dewsong?" Vivienne finally said.
"It's simple," Hermione shrugged. "You're pregnant," Vivienne's eyes widened and Hermione amended; "That's what you tell Dewsong. You're leaving to raise a child with Ron, and you would like for me to take the position."
Vivienne scoffed. "And what makes you think Dewsong will buy that, first of all, and follow my orders second?"
"Because you're a very good actor, Vivienne. Make it believable. Perhaps pregnancy had readjusted your values; maybe Ron has asked a favour…just convince him."
"If I do this…" Vivienne started, "what do I get in return?"
"My silence."
"And Zabini?"
"Oh, I can't speak for him," Hermione grinned wickedly as Vivienne's face drained of colour. "I guess you will have to strike up another deal with Blaise."
Vivienne was silent for a long time. The two witches faced each other, both wearing identical masks of polite disinterest. Vivienne cracked first.
"Fine," she spat. "I'll do what you want. But you do not breathe a word of this to anyone; not Potter or his wife, not Pansy, not the Weasleys…and especially not Ron."
"Deal," Hermione extended her hand slowly and waited for Vivienne to take it. The witch stood and eyed her with unbridled loathing.
"Deal," Vivienne accepted her hand and shook it briefly. "I will go to Dewsong today. Expect my owl."
Her voice was tight and Hermione swore there were actual tears forming in the corner of her eyes. Being a naturally empathetic person, Hermione knew she should feel slightly bad for Vivienne's position, but in that moment with the prospect of her goal finally being realised, she could not bring herself to care.
"Ciao," Hermione waved obnoxiously as she exited the office.
Later that afternoon, Hermione sat on the floor of her study surrounded by books and sheets of parchment. As she was sorting through the mess, a barn owl arrived at her window and pecked rapidly on the glass.
She jumped up immediately and hurried to let the bird in. Once the letter had been removed from its beak, the owl hooted once and then left through the open window. Hermione paid no attention to the bird's departure, too focused on opening the envelope and scanning the contents. She had half expected wart cap powder or something equally awful to lace the inside of the envelope, but there was only a neatly folded letter.
It is done.
Hermione flipped it over; there was nothing else written on the paper. She used her wand to reveal invisible ink, but the parchment remained unchanged. She shrugged and allowed a victorious grin to cross her face.
She had done it. Now the only thing standing in her way was the archives, and that was going to be overcome as soon as Dewsong contacted her with an offer.
She did not have to wait long. Less than half an hour after Vivienne's owl, Hermione's Floo sounded. With a pop! Dustin Dewsong's head appeared in the emerald flames.
"Granger!" He barked.
"Yes, sir?" Hermione bit back a triumphant smirk.
"Report to my office first thing tomorrow morning; it appears that I need a new Head of Case Management."
With a sneer, his head disappeared and Hermione allowed her mouth to break into a wide grin. Standing, she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet and moving her hands about in a display of unbridled excitement; the plan was all coming together.
That evening, at Malfoy Manor, Blaise and Draco remained unaware of Hermione's triumph. After a silent dinner, they retired to Draco's study and opened a fresh bottle of Firewhiskey. Draco drank deeply from his tumbler, and Blaise watched with mild concern.
It was not in his nature to be outwardly sympathetic or caring, but he was beginning to think that he might have to show some tough love to his obstinate friend.
"Looking at Granger, you wouldn't think she was once that bushy-haired bookworm from Hogwarts," he sipped his drink, his eyes intent on Draco's face; there was no change in his expression so Blaise continued. "She's grown into her figure, for one thing."
Draco made a non-committal noise and poured himself more whiskey. Blaise frowned; it was not like the blond wizard to go quite so hard on the bottle.
"Those jeans she was wearing last night," He shook his head and whistled through pursed lips. "Watching her leave; I was as hard as a rock."
Draco growled. "So help me, Zabini," he said, his voice tense, "if you ever mention your arousal and Hermione in the same sentence again, I will hex you until it falls off and crawls away."
Blaise only smirked, unperturbed by his friend's threat. "Hermione, is it?"
"Shut up," the blond reached out a hand and smacked Blaise on the back of the head.
"Ow!" Blaise glared pointedly, running a hand over the place Draco had whacked him. "You should tell her you like her."
Draco scoffed. "I don't though. At least, not really. I've been reflecting a lot, since she came to see me this morning and…" he paused for a moment and squinted into the naked fireplace, "…I think I'm going to leave it for a while; focus on Mother's case…"
"Coward," Blaise scowled.
Draco shrugged and leaned back in his recliner, hooking his fingers into the handle that released the foot rest. "Honestly Blaise, jumping in to something with her now would be a mistake."
"Oh?" Blaise raised an eyebrow.
"I'm still under house arrest – "
"For a fortnight," Blaise interjected.
"And," Draco glowered but continued as if he had not heard the interruption, "I don't know what it's like to be free; not really. Not to mention, I haven't dated in years; I haven't seen a witch except for Granger and Pansy – oh, and the Medi-witch – since Hogwarts."
"So," Blaise licked his lips after downing the contents of his glass in one go, "what you're trying to say is that you think you might find someone better than Granger when you get out of here?" He gestured around him.
"What? No, that's not what I meant!"
"Good," Blaise deadpanned as he poured himself another drink. "Because that would be fucking stupid."
"Thank you, Cassanova," Draco shot back. "I'm not saying that I won't eventually try with Granger; just that I want to be sure before I drag her into my shit."
Blaise was silent for a long moment, his face expressionless as he raised and lowered his glass in time with his sips. "Okay," he finally said, "I think I get it."
"Finally!"
"You're a fucking coward."
Draco threw his hands up in frustration and flipped the foot rest back into the recliner. "Maybe I am," he agreed as he stood. "But I'd rather be a coward than a fool."
With that, he turned on his heel and stormed from the room, the Firewhiskey bottle clutched fiercely in his right hand.
"Goodnight," Blaise deadpanned as Draco swept around the corner. There was no reply from the blond.