AUTHORS NOTE: I know I've gotten a pretty hateful review that I'd like to address here to make my feelings known. This story is not to glorify the Slytherins or bash Harry Potter. This story is about two women dealing with the ravages of war, what they had lost, grief and the dealings with their OWN healing. Harry does come into play later in the story. But this is meant to be a look at what trauma does to a person and how they overcome or succumb to it.
If you enjoy the story, thank you and I hope this next chapter makes you excited.
"This is what I should wear?" Hermione looked down with doubt. "Are you sure?"
Ginny groaned for the fifth time. "Love, trust me. This is fashion. This fits your body purr-fectly."
A full-size body suit – called a jumper in America – entirely in black. Floral designs cut through black mesh covered the upper bodice only covering her nipples with the design while the rest of her flesh was exposed through the mesh. Ginny gave her pumps of crimson red and matched her lipstick in the same shade.
Hermione blushed as she saw herself, a top bun atop her head and black dangle earrings. She embodied a sex goddess. Something she wasn't afraid to admit.
"Trying to distract from the fact that I'm a buzzkill, Gin?"
Her friend rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. You look sexy. You feel confident, right? That means it's going to be a good night. We both need one. Need to start fresh, get on with things, find love."
"What, the pervert isn't your true love?"
"Oh, Merlin. Don't remind me," she said. "You should have seen this latest meltdown. I don't think he'll be back."
Hermione sighed in relief. "Oh, merciful heaven, thank God."
"He isn't that bad."
There was a half-used bottle of perfume somewhere. She'd used it a few months ago for a blind date. Where did it go? She shuffled through her cabinet.
"Cormac McLaggen is the absolute worst of the worst. I get the feeling he'd rape me if he ever stayed over," Hermione said. "I'm glad you're done with him."
"I guess he does give off that kind of vibe with you…"
Ginny nibbled her bottom lip. It'd been a while since she'd done that. Hermione wasn't sure if it was right time but there was no other better opportunity to make her friend break free of her unhealthy coping mechanism.
"Look, Gin, I know I'm not the one to be offering advice. Just hear me out, yeah?"
Ginny nodded.
Hermione smiled soft. She didn't deserve Ginny in so many ways.
"It isn't right for you to be, I don't know, shagging every guy who looks your way. Doesn't seem healthy. You are worth more, a lot more, than Cormac or any of those cheap boys down at the pubs." Hermione spritzed the perfume on her neck. "If I have to come out and make friends, you should have to realize that you need to close your legs and built up a bit of intimacy."
"Damn, girl. Shots fired." Ginny brushed off the seriousness, but something sounded sincere. A look crossed her eyes with a bit of softness. "I know it isn't right. I hate that I do it, but I can't help myself."
Hermione gripped the girl's shoulders. "We both have to try. Try."
They headed out the front of their building and off to the Muggle pub where Ginny's friends said they'd meet. It was a few blocks away from the flat, in the heart of swinging London. The streets were busy. They had to push their way through some of the sidewalks, catching the momentary eye of a witch or wizard in disguise as a Muggle.
The other looks came because they were dressed in their best, sexy and confident. Hermione captured a lot more attention than she usually did. It gave her a bright rush to her head.
Ginny wore a pair of low rider jeans, fishnet stockings pulled up to her waist shown only through the big rips of her jeans completed with a lime green stretchy crop top. The look was perfect with her pigtails off the sides of her head.
She glowed in the late-night light of the city. The city buzzed with excitement, Hermione along with it. The very pulse inside her chest became the beat in which London moved. Throbbing, beating, breathing, pulsating. It awakened a sense she hadn't felt in a while.
Ginny lead the way down a darkened alley. An open doorway cut through the utter black of the wall. It hummed with music. Bass rattled bits of stone down from the walls. Hermione brushed off the dust.
They slipped inside. Ginny greeted the staff like close friends as they wove through the back of the pub.
Why she always insisted on the employee entrance, Hermione never knew.
Hermione kept the redhead as her guide through the dim lights as the pub exposed from the white of the kitchens. It was dimly lit, wide open with a loft for more seating. Patrons were filled in, but not too unpleasantly. Everything was wood. Wood fixtures, walls, floors, tables. It was a grayish maple.
As they stepped out from behind the bar, Ginny squinted her eyes as she searched the crowd. It took a while. Hermione didn't recognize any one, but her friend did. She latched onto Hermione's wrist and dragged her over to a table in the corner of the room.
She froze as she stood near. Ginny wasn't bothered. She slid right into a nearby chair, slapping someone on the back.
"On time for once?" She teased.
The person shrugged her off. "I am never late. I arrive when I'm ready, not a moment sooner."
Ginny laughed, a happy sparkle to her eye. Hermione stared blankly. What was going on?
Her friend caught her gaze. "Go on, they won't bite."
All faces of the table turned to face her. A heat rushed to her cheeks, barely visible under the light.
There at the table sat a den of snakes. Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, Theo Nott. The last face was none other than Draco Malfoy. His cool gray gaze widened as he drank her in, not failing to miss a single part of her. She felt the very exposed.
She took her place alongside Blaise, Ginny on his other side at the table.
"Evening, Granger." Blaise lifted his glass. "Haven't seen you in a long while."
"Haven't been out in a while," she replied with a soft smile.
Ginny had said they weren't old friends. Technically she wasn't wrong. Their faces didn't stir a reminder of much else except their petty childhood rivalries. The only one she felt mildly annoyed with was Malfoy, particularly the way he stared at her. He nursed his drink now. Fire whiskey, by the smell of it.
"What can I get you, love?" Ginny raised from her seat. "I'll get drinks tonight."
Hermione rolled her eyes. She shoved a bill into her friend's back pocket. "White wine. If they don't have it, champagne."
Ginny snorted. "Really? In a pub?"
Suddenly Blaise was near them both, his face just behind Hermione's shoulder. "I can suggest something smooth, if that's what you're wanting."
It was surprisingly nice of him, for a Slytherin.
"I just don't like a strong burn. Bit too harsh for me."
His brown eyes smiled. "Cornish cider. You'll like it."
"Ooh." The voice came from Daphne at the other end of the table. She leaned over listening closely. "The cider here is amazing. Gin, get me one too."
Gin? They knew each other enough to use her nickname?
The redhead bobbed off through the crowd, leaving Hermione alone at the table with the other Slytherins, all of the same year, but not of the same circle. The tension wasn't what she thought it would be. It was awkward because of the silence. None of them knew what to say.
Malfoy kept his eyes to his drink, not daring to glance again. Her skin prickled with insecurity. The bodysuit was too much. She guessed as much but she'd been so in love with how she looked, she hadn't thought to take it off. Now, she kicked herself for looking a fool in front of the one person she knew wouldn't let her live it down.
Theo was texting on his phone, rather surprising for a wizard, especially a pureblood.
Daphne offered a smile from across the table. She looked so beautiful, a pale blonde hair with perfect complexion. There was a natural quality to it. Makeup wasn't caked upon her face like most other girls in the pub. She boasted a clean, carefree look about her. They'd never talked in school but the way she seemed to polite, Hermione wished they had.
"So, I hear you're in Magical Accidents and Catastrophes." Blaise leaned over, making it easier to hear him over the noise. "Finally got that old cat Dokas out of there, huh?"
She took the olive branch, ready to shed the tension. "Not that he didn't get his final revenge."
"What'd he do?" She heard Daphne once more. The poor girl leaned against the table again, straining to hear.
Hermione glanced down at Ginny's chair. It would be easy to answer without yelling over the pub. Muggles were everywhere. She stood suddenly, causing Malfoy to jump to his feet out of his seat.
She eyed him carefully, unsure how to gauge the reaction. He looked startled, but he hadn't reached for his wand (no doubt hidden below his belt) so she was surprisingly unthreatened. Theo looked up at him with confusion.
Malfoy glanced back down at the table while his friends stared.
"Another?" He asked, downing the rest of his whiskey.
He stalked off before another could answer. It was very unlike him. Even in school, he wasn't easily flustered. Calm and cool. Hermione sat down carefully, not wanting to upset the other temper of the Slytherins. A Gryffindor was new territory for them, she knew. Maybe they thought her bigoted against them.
The war left most of them ostracized. The purebloods closed ranks, only associating with those in similar situations. Malfoy was the most publicized of the group. She'd testified at his hearings after the war, but it hadn't help sway public opinion. He was condemned. It was almost worst for the purebloods. She imagined with them in their closed ranks, they felt very much like outsiders again.
There was bitterness, but not so much to their cause. It was polluted by the roles of the Death Eaters and even Voldemort himself. He didn't want a clean, Muggle free world. He wanted to rule the world. Pureblood elites were the means to an end. His end.
After everything she suffered through for their lack of sound judgement, Hermione knew just how both sides were damaged. No one was whole. The people at the table with her were just as tortured by the things they'd seen, perhaps not to the extent she was. Malfoy was the only one else who knew. He saw it. He lived it same as she did.
She took Ginny's old position. Daphne smiled and reached her hands out.
"Thanks for coming out, by the way. Ginny says you needed to have some fun," she said.
"Yeah, thanks Granger. We all love a good time," Blaise added.
His smile was so kind, although she sensed some deviousness below the surface. A troublemaker. She could spot those a mile away with her experience.
He knew something.
She played innocent. "Oh, Gin's all talk. She's the life of the party."
"Not how we hear it," he said. A glimmer in his eye.
Oh, he knew something. Ginny's big mouth got to his ear first.
Daphne chuckled softly. "Ignore him. He's just trying to embarrass you. It's his one joy in life. All you got to do in ask him if he's gained weight and he'll stop."
"Why, do you think I've gotten fat?"
Its effect was immediate. He prodded the flesh of his face. Daphne smirked as he asked her if it looked larger to her.
"Blimey, who got Blaise started?"
Ginny stood with a mug of ale and two ciders. Malfoy stood near, taking in the scene before him.
Dressed in jeans and a Muggle tee, Malfoy looked very much unlike himself. He wore a black jacket overtop, hand crafted and expensive, but incredibly fashionable in the Muggle fashion. It hugged his frame tightly. The broad expanse of his chest had grown since she'd seen him last.
He set his whiskey down to the table and supplied another glass from his hand. It was a flute filled with a light colored and bubbling. He scooted it in front of Hermione without a glance.
"What's this?" She questioned with surprise.
"Champagne," he answered.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Blaise chuckled. "Always the show off, aren't you? He just had to make a point that he can get anything, anywhere."
"No surprise there," Theo said with a smirk. It twisted his lanky face in a pleasant way, albeit not entirely attractive with the crooked spread of teeth.
Ginny handed her the cider, sliding another Daphne. "In case you decide not to be a snob in a pub."
"Rich coming from the girl who once refused to shake a guy's hand because he ate crisps."
"They weren't crisps. Damn Cheeto dust." She was bothered but in a lighthearted way. It was joy. Neither had felt that way in a while. "Besides, he had a wart."
Hermione snorted. "Does that refer to his face to the fact his dick was too small."
There was a rise out of the Slytherins. They chuckled, even Malfoy though he swallowed it back. Blaise enjoyed it. His smile grew broadly.
"Knew she was a good hang." It was a tone of triumph. "And you thought she'd be uncomfortable."
It was a clear pointed remark to Malfoy. His blonde hair parted as his fingers smoothed it back, ran through like a comb.
"Slytherins and Gryffindors aren't known for getting along," was the answer he gave.
This was her chance. Close that chapter for good.
"Can't stand many Gryffindors these days so perhaps a change in houses isn't so bad. Even if it is with Slytherins."
It sounded way cooler than she was. She leaned back in her chair, quaking from the boldness against Malfoy, but the false confidence wasn't going to be broken. These friends. She needed them. More so, she promised Ginny to try.
The look on his face was stunned, only for a moment before he reigned it back. She watched it slide back inside him with ease.
Daphne chortled by his side. "I like her already."
"Now, now. Don't go rushing things, Daph. She's got to pass the test." Blaise raised his hand, cool and collected with each word.
Malfoy raised his gaze with a snap. "What? No."
Theo shoved his friend's side. "Lighten up. It'll be fun."
"What, can't hang with a girl who might outwit you, Malfoy?"
She expected him to get riled. His friends certainly did. They giggled and laughed, at his expense. Quite the opposite happened. He leaned back in his chair, finally daring to look at her.
"Just remember, I tried to stop it."
It was all he said.
Blaise whooped with glee. "So it begins. Now the rules are simple. Must be honest. You don't befriend Slytherins without using a secret as your entrance fee. You gotta drain your glass and say your secret."
Coy. The alcohol would loosen her lips in a rush, bound to reveal more than she expected. It was very cunning. Hermione was impressed. She glanced at Ginny with a questioning look. Her friend shrugged. It was no secret to what she revealed: one of her numerous sexual conquests.
A secret. She had many of those, so easy to collect when friends with Harry Potter. Many of them were dark, unspoken ones. Those weren't the kind that were said in a night out. The group wasn't that comfortable yet. The Slytherins were measuring her up. They wanted to see if she was suited for their standards.
At first, she was burned at the insinuation she wasn't good enough to be friends. She didn't see things that way. They weren't in Hogwarts anymore. Adults were friends with a variety. None of her friends were so selfish.
She glanced at Malfoy. He smirked back at her.
Oh honestly. He still liked to see her squirm. How ridiculous.
Ginny offered up a smile, breaking the quiet. "Tell 'em about Skeeter."
"As in, Rita Skeeter?" Daphne perked up at the mention.
Hermione ducked her face away in shame. "That is not a moment I wish to relive."
"Exactly the moments we want to know," Blaise said happily.
"Go on, Hermione." Ginny sipped a moment from her pint. "This lot will love it."
Ugh. I can't believe I'm going to play this game.
She tilted back her cider, gulping breath and breath until the entire glass was empty. She slammed it down to the table. Their eyes widened in surprise.
"What?" She asked.
Daphne clinked her glass against the empty one. "Even the boys didn't finish their drinks when they did theirs."
"Oh," she said with a blush. "I thought it was the rules."
"Not like we'd kick you out for that," Theo snorted.
Blaise shushed his friends. "Alright, alright. Quiet down now. Hermione, tell us about Skeeter."
Maybe it was the alcohol that made her feel bold or the sudden rush that came from their impressed faces. Whatever it was, she wanted to chase it. It felt good. A steady beating, a rush in her pulse. The buzz was also nice.
She cleared her throat. "Fine. Fourth year. I found out how she'd been writing her articles. Skeeter was an unregistered animagus. She turned into a beetle and spied on people. So…I locked her in a jar and blackmailed her into not writing anymore slander otherwise I'd out her to the Ministry."
Wow. It was a thrill. Breath came a bit easier.
"Are you serious?" Malfoy asked.
She nodded. "Bitch was a liar. She sold lies and slander for fun to discredit Harry, Hagrid. She deserved it."
"Amen!" Ginny said with a large gulp of ale.
There was a pause amongst the table. Perhaps she read their need wrong. She started to shrink in self-doubt as their eyes drilled through her, but there was finally a spread of a smile on Blaise's face.
He lifted his glass, white teeth apparent even through the faded light. "What's say you, guys? Think she passed the test?"
"Brilliant," said Theo.
"Can't kick the girl out. She's way too cool."
It landed to Malfoy. The table turned on him, watching him. Music started to throb an incredible beat that Hermione noticed. A favorite song. Oh, it sounded amazing as it vibrated her chest with each hollow breath, rattled the bones of her very core. Bits of magic bubbled below the surface. It's like she wanted to explode in hot euphoria.
She hadn't heard if Malfoy answered or not. But the wait was too long.
Hermione downed her entire champagne flute and rose from her seat, scratching the chair legs against the floors as she did.
"Shall I convince you further?"
She walked toward the dance floor, less congested than earlier in the night. Ginny touched her arm as she past but didn't stop her.
The screen held lots of album covers of lots of different artists. U2? Oh, hell no. That was not happening.
One album caught her eye as one she recognized and loved to dance to. Her sober self tried to remind the buzzing self that she never danced in front of others, but she told the harpy to go to sleep.
A dance was what she needed.
Thick Latin basslines jumped the speakers of the bar. Sloshes splat against the ground as patrons startled to the surge of noise. It was popular, even with the Spanish lyrics spread throughout and the rhythm was fit for the type of dance she required.
Her friends sat with mouths wide open as she moved closer. Daphne's eyes bugged out of their sockets when Hermione pointed a finger at Malfoy, beckoning him to the dance floor. The hum of the music pounded louder as the chorus rang.
Ginny sipped from her pint, a satisfied smirk on her face.
"Oh, ho. Everybody, meet fun Hermione."
The cool demeanor of the Slytherin became flushed with the sudden attention. He shifted in his seat ever so slightly, unsure how to proceed. It wasn't until he was elbowed through the ribs that he jumped to his feet. It was all the invitation Hermione needed. She grabbed his hands and led him over to the dancefloor.
Buzzing softly, music loud, and rhythm in her chest. Hermione moved with the beat, pulling Malfoy closer and closer, dancing with him, against him as he still seemed to be in a state of shock. It wasn't his face that said so; that seemed more focused than ever. The way his eyes flickered with uncertainty as she pulled him closer that sparked her interest.
"This too close for you, Draco?" She asked him.
His body went rigid. "What?"
"Is this too close for you?" She repeated, louder. "Uncomfortable?"
God, how did the music feel so good. A high of pretty lights fluttered through her eyes as she looked as him, too unbridled to mind the fact that he'd tormented her through school and hexed her more than once.
Suddenly he pulled her right against his body. Chest to chest. Her heels made it easier to gaze into his eyes as he was a tall, lean man. Taller than most.
A blush came to her cheeks as she felt every muscled part of physique against hers. Wow. His arms were taut. Below her touch she felt them flex as he leaned her weight onto his. Oh, wow. That made her tingle.
"Answer your question, Granger?"
She nodded.
Now, he was in lead. He twisted her body this way and that. Every part of her body aligned with his as she danced, feeling the heat of the pub swirl her mind.
A dark hand emerged into view holding a small glass filled with pink liquid.
"Fancy another? Looked a little dry out here." It was Blaise.
She smirked and threw her arms around his neck, unexpectedly kissing his cheek.
"Thank Merlin. You read my mind." The pink liquid burned a fierce one as it drained to the back of her throat. "What in the name of…what did I just drink?"
Theo smiled as he handed a glass full of pink to Malfoy. "Merlin's surprise. Taste different to everyone."
"Care for a dance, Miss Granger?" Blaise offered up his hand.
"Oh! Now he's polite. But when I fell on my ass back at the Quidditch pitch, he was the first one to yell 'Chip a nail or just on the mensies?' Bloody prat," Ginny exclaimed. "I ought force him to dance with me.'
It was all in good fun. The group laughed, and Hermione felt like laughing too, though she didn't quite get it.
"Right then. Ginny and Blaise, it is." Daphne grabbed hold of Theo's sweater with a tilted brow. "And I've got the oaf. Who has Draco, hm? Hermione?"
Malfoy visibly tightened. His stone-gray eyes narrowed to his friend clutching at Theo for dear life, trying to swirl away.
"So quick to get away from me, mate?" He sneered, the first of the night. "Daphne's with me."
Her lips pushed together in a taut line.
The two swirled off for a private conversation away from the group in almost heated debate as it progressed. Blaise and Ginny laughed as they danced. A fair share of Muggle patrons examined them with narrowed eyes, grumbling about the noise. Theo was a size thinner than Malfoy, and a large amount more awkward. His movements were stilted, not so fluid. Hermione tried to follow his movements in a parallel dance but eventually found herself wandering to the bar.
She caught a glance at Malfoy and Daphne near their table. His hands were flat against the tabletop. Daphne held hers in the air, in question.
Their lips moved fast. Hermione couldn't make it out.
"Oops." A man bumped into Hermione's side. She snapped in attention, even as the alcohol made her want to giggle. "Sorry, luv. Didn't see you there…wowza. Aren't you a pretty little thing? What's your name?"
He was older than she, in his late twenties to early thirties she guessed. Dark luscious locks hanged down to his collarbone, a gentle curl at the end. The squareness of his jaw protruded as he smiled at her, attracting attention to the shine of his brilliant teeth (a trait a dentist's daughter always appreciates) and the gentle shine of a ring in his ear.
There was a stubble across his face, but it was delicately trimmed with dramatic lines of dark hair and beige skin. Well groomed. Eyebrows were tamed. Maybe it was the light, but his skin looked better than hers with pores the size of a pinhead or smaller.
Hermione stumbled over her name. "Gra – well, uh, Hermione. Granger is my last name."
She pushed out her hand. "Hermione Granger. You can call me Hermione, or Granger. Or Hermione Granger if you're formal."
"What is it that you do, Hermione Granger?"
"I'm a pencil pusher for the government. That's why I had to dress like this, yeah? So, they didn't know I am a snore."
The man half-smiled at her and handed her a glass. "Mind if I get you a drink?"
"Sure," she said.
She raised the glass to her lips with the utter surprise that she didn't even ask what it was, when a group of slender, cool fingers wretched the glass away. It was slammed against the worktop.
"I don't think so, Granger," Malfoy said. His hand grabbed hold of her and steered her away. The man gawked. "Sorry, mate. Have a good night."
A song she loved started again. She loved. It was Post Malone, a man who connected to her very soul.
"Mmm. I love this song," she cooed in her bliss lost in the moment.
Malfoy's voice was near her ear in a hot minute. "We don't accept drinks from strangers. Remember, Granger? I will buy you whatever you want, anything at all. Just, don't let guys like that hand you a drink. It isn't safe."
"Why would he give me a drink that isn't safe?"
He squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Ugh, Gryffindors."
The crowd thickened. It was prime time for clubs. The pub was close to many popular choices, so it was undoubtedly their first stop in before trekking over to dance their nights away. Hermione had never been to a club. It seemed pointless at the time. Fun wasn't like this before.
She saw the group of Slytherins and one redheaded Gryffindor through the crowd, all searching one way and another. Ginny wore lines of worry in the corners of her mouth. Blaise frowned, leaned over and touched her arm gently as he spoke into her ear. She nodded biting her bottom lip. He started forward until he saw Malfoy with Hermione in tow.
"You found her, I see."
Malfoy stiffly nodded. "Stopped her from swallowing a large amount of an unknown drink from a total stranger."
Hermione snorted. "He wasn't a stranger."
"What was his name, Granger?"
Philip, maybe? John was a pretty common name in these parts. That was a good choice, too. Wait, was he a Muggle? If he wasn't, it could be anything.
Malfoy waited in patience as Blaise seemed unimpressed.
"Since when is the famous Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Princess, such an impulsive dope?" Blaise asked.
It wounded her pride. For a moment.
"Perhaps Gryffindor princess isn't really a Gryffindor after all," she said, not liking the way her words slurred out of her lips. How drunk was she? She didn't feel sick. Just great. Amazing. It was the best night ever. She smiled wildly. "I think I'm starting to like Slytherin a bit better. Mind if I join?"
The rest of the group caught sight because they swarmed around them like a school of hungry fish toward a fallen seed. Their eyes wore concern. Daphne touched her arm and asked if she felt okay. Ginny wanted to know what she was up to which made Malfoy lean over and talk into her ear, but Hermione lost the words again.
It was so loud. Where did all the noise come from?
"Hermione here just renounced her claim to Gryffindor," Blaise announced. "She's decided what we've known all along. Slytherin is superior."
There was a remarkable change in Ginny. Worry left. She turned a bit taken aback as Hermione eagerly nodded.
"Really?" Daphne looked doubtful. "Woo! Another girl to keep me company. I get lonely with just Stori."
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Malfoy's body stand frozen in place, his chest barely rose with breath. What was that?
"If she's joining, then I am, too," Ginny added.
"It's not an open club," Blaise sneered. "We don't just accept anybody."
Theo nudged his shoulder. "Why you here then, Blaise?"
"Bugger off."
The noticeable silence came from Malfoy. When she dared look up at his pale face, he was distant in appearance. She always saw the lines of his frame blur into nothing. Gone.
He stalked off without a word toward the bar to order another glass of whiskey, no doubt. His friends frowned. Daphne bit her lip. She watched him closely as he marched to the table, eyes kept to the floor.
"I'll go talk to him," she whispered to Blaise.
Legs started to shake underneath Hermione. She felt antsy. Motion. She wanted to move. And she knew just who was going to be her victim.
"Blaise, I think you owe me a dance."
He grinned. "You know I do. Let's go."
Time blurred as they danced their night away. There were rounds of drinks, pink and purple, white and neon green. Some glowed in her hand with slight mutterings of magic, courtesy of Theo who invested some time in learning wandless skills. They all laughed, moved to a group and danced together with no particular partner until a slow song stalled their fun.
She danced with Blaise. They glided seamlessly, thanks to Blaise's brilliant lead otherwise Hermione would have tripped over her heels and snapped an ankle.
Blaise's shoulder was tapped. He scrunched his brow and looked around.
"Mind if I cut in?" Malfoy asked softly.
His dark friend casted a devious look over his shoulder before he nodded. Her body was handed over to Malfoy to control as the slow rhythm vibrated the air.
He slipped his hand into hers, though she gasped at his cool touch.
"Sorry," he said. "Cold hands. Family trait, I'm afraid."
His arm wrapped around her tiny waist but kept them a friendly distance apart. Very honorable.
Silence fell between them as they rocked through an ocean of rocking bodies. Each kept their eyes on the outside afraid what might be said if they looked to one another. Hermione felt drowsy in the dark light of night as the music halted her pulse.
It only quickened again when eyes were on her. She glanced up and met the cool gaze.
"Uh, um, you – you look good, Granger."
"Thank you," she replied with a sincere smile. "Sorry if it's awkward to be around me. I wouldn't have come out if I'd known you be uncomfortable."
He scoffed. "I am a grown man, Granger. If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't."
"Well, still. I appreciate you tolerating a Mudblood."
Malfoy seized, stopping their movement completely. "Don't say that."
"Why?"
"Because I don't like it," he growled. It sounded like a warning, one that she missed.
"Why not? It's the truth. I am a Mud –"
His hand snapped up over her mouth. Frustration so clear through his body. The coolness of his eyes turned rock hard.
"Please. Don't say that word. And you're wrong, very wrong, to assume I still feel that way. Haven't for years," he said. "So, again please, don't think I see you that way because I don't. And I don't listen to anyone who says otherwise."
She searched through his eyes, looking for any piece of sincerity within the gray. They were soft and tingled as she shared such an intense connection. It tugged at her belly. His flesh against hers, the cool against the hot sweat of the crowded pub.
Malfoy stared back at her without abandon. He was serious.
Hermione nodded, and his hand dropped away. She felt for the first time in her life that Draco Malfoy was a very different person than she imagined. Cool to the touch, but warm inside as he regarded her more with respect than distain. The way he cradled her in his arms with respect, putting himself in the way of clumsy bar patrons as they bumped their way through the crowds.
"You are different," Hermione stated, a clarity with a burst of cold night air from the door.
His brow furrowed. "Oh really?"
"Very different."
"Well," he swirled her around a puddle of spilled drink of the floor, "there may be a reason for that."
She looked up at him curiously.
He captured her gaze strongly, not letting the bond be broken. "Honestly, Granger, I didn't want to scare you away tonight by the reminder of who I was, to you and your friends when we were young." He swallowed. "I thought if I controlled myself, that you'd look past all that. Despite what you may think of us, we are just as lonely as you these days. The world can be bitter when it spat you out and doesn't need you anymore."
"You weren't in the right," she said suddenly. "The war, I mean. You made a mistake, a bad choice."
"I know that. We all do. It's why this is all that's left of us," Malfoy drawled. "We've paid the costs of our fathers, our grandfathers. Lost many along the way, just like your side. But, that's not what I'm talking about. All that stands for what it is. I mean, I'm talking about me. My past, with you."
Hermione nodded sadly. "I already forgave you, Malfoy, a long time ago."
This surprised him.
"Uh, really? Wow. Because I had this whole thing planned out."
She chuckled into his arm. "Not necessary. I came to terms with your lot ages and ages ago. You're a bit late, you know."
"Damn." He smirked.
"Just be yourself and it'll be alright, yeah? It won't hurt my feelings. I might actually like having to put you in your place," she laughed.
Malfoy scoffed. "Don't get too cocky, Granger."