Getting ready for a Slug Club party was no longer a formal affair. Professor Slughorn had found that there were quite too many formal events for the youth to attend these days, thank you very much. That left Hermione joyful that she could choose her best soft jeans and sweater to attend. No one would judge her, and Harry Potter being Harry Potter matched her jeans and sweater with his own, adorned by a lovingly stitched H in a golden yellow letter on burgundy red.
Funny thing about the red, it brought out the green in his eyes.
"Harry," Hermione said as she flipped through a book in the drawing room where she had retreated after deciding not to overthink her outfit, and realising she had far too much time left now before the actual start of the party. Harry looked up because he was equally as early as she was and they both were now killing time in their usual methods. "Should we go-"
"Together?" Harry finished, hardly looking up from the Prophet in his hands. "Yea, why not. We're getting married in July according to the Prophet. Just in time for my birthday!"
"You're kidding." Hermione watched him as his expression remained unchanged. "Didn't she get my fucking message?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. He hadn't seen her in a bit, and Hermione suspected the version of herself in his head still didn't swear.
"I think it's time we report her to Kinglsey." Harry's eyes returned to the paper. "Only if this is irritating you, I mean. I for one, love knowing I have a love life I otherwise have no idea about."
Hermione laughed. "You're right, everything I've done so far has been empty threats and that must have made her braver and allowed her to think she could carry on as she has."
"Can I send her a hexed letter next?" Harry asked eagerly, finally closing the paper with force that told Hermione he finally read something he didn't like.
"I feel like maybe she'd be a little wary." Hermione glanced at him and saw him quietly contemplating what his chosen word would be. "But I'm sure she would just avoid my letters, but not the Harry Potter ." She released the last phrase in a sing-songy, exaggerated voice that made Harry grin with a corner of his mouth.
"I'm thinking I can be direct and say bug or animagus , but I feel like the latter would be too long."
"I think you're right. Bug, maybe, but it doesn't say what you intend it to mean."
"Maybe cun -"
A bang against the window and a disgruntled hoot interrupted Harry and they swivelled in shock to see Scruffles- Bo- ruffling his feathers back into place. One window was usually open in the drawing room to allow the owl time to deliver, eat, drink, and be off, and Bo had completely missed it.
"What's this." Harry said, annoyed, curious, and somehow scared. Hermione waited a second before she was sure he wouldn't get the window before she flicked her wand and immediately accio-ed treats from her ever present beaded purse.
The letter was just a scrap of parchment, rolled around Bo's foot, the owner of which hooted happily when he recognised Hermione. He ate the treats and affectionately pinched her skin gently with his beak intermittently.
"Hermione." Harry reminded her of her task with the command and curiosity in his voice.
"Sorry." She unrolled the slim piece of parchment and recognised Ginny's handwriting. It said three simple words; Hermione read it out loud and met Harry's eyes on the last word. "It's not true."
Harry fidgeted, his eyes betraying him and glancing at the discarded Prophet on the table.
"Harry, what's in there other than we're engaged and getting married in months?" Hermione rested her eyes on him and didn't flinch or look away; staring him down usually made him cave. He cleared his throat, his eyes shifted nervously.
"The Prophet says they saw them together at some intimate muggle restaurant in London. Supposedly they're also engaged and soon to be married."
"Harry, does it have any photos?" Hermione rolled her eyes because he half winced, half shrugged. "And are you and I, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, engaged and getting married in July?"
"No, Hermione. And I get it, I know where you're going with this, but I-."
"Do not tell me that all of a sudden you believe that bitch."
"Sometimes she's right. Sometimes she sees stuff we don't see because we have our own prejudices and beliefs. And while she has hers, sometimes they're right-"
Hermione threw her head back and cackled.
"Harry! She's literally been exaggerating your life, my life, everyone she wants to be 's life from the moment we all became more famous than her when we were fourteen. She's absolutely wrong about everything!"
"She was right about the way Malfoy looks at you." Harry was grinning now, poking fun at her.
"Shut up. Malfoy doesn't look at me in any way."
"You're not a guy, Hermione. And you are gorgeous and intelligent, ridiculously gifted and sorely underutilized by the Ministry. Point is, he'd be a fool among men to not see you."
"You don't." Hermione had felt her face growing hot with the slew of compliments. Sometimes he was so good at being good, he didn't know how to stop. "You don't see me like you think he sees me, so you can't talk."
"I'm your best mate in love with your other best mate!"
"Maybe he's in love with his best mates' best mate."
"You're ridiculous."
"Malfoy doesn't care crap about me or what I do."
"Okay then."
"Okay then."
Bo nibbled at Hermione to signal the end of his treats before he fluttered rather gracefully back to the windowsill, to promptly be blown away as he took to the air and his feathers immediately went the wrong direction. Hermione ran to the window to find him as Harry grasped his stomach and laughed, rocking in his armchair. Hermione shot him a humoured look over his shoulder, but only after she saw Bo safely in the sky.
Slug Club's party was held at none other than The Three Broomsticks. Rosmerta was gleefully greeting all the students who had previously gone to Hogwarts and almost always made a joke about their ages as she gave them finally (legally), alcoholic beverages.
Arriving together did turn heads, but Harry and Hermione clung to each other as a safety blanket anyway and pretended to accept congratulations for their upcoming nuptials, simply because they knew denying it rather than nodding and smiling would then make them have to answer more questions. Both Hermione nor Harry were feeling particularly up to being barraged, or teased by people who thought they were playing coy.
It was ten minutes into introductions when Harry's arm on her waist turned into a painful claw and Hermione looked up at him to see his eyes widened and then his eyebrows frowned as they narrowed. Hermione followed his line of sight and froze at the familiar body.
"Shit." Hermione said. She looked again at Harry whose grip had not loosened and she steered him to the fireplace, which once they had gotten to, she gestured to the barkeep who was helping Rosmerta to bring some firewhiskey.
"She's not coming, right? We'd know." Harry asked quickly, his eyes opened wide again as he begged Hermione to give him the answer he wanted to hear.
"She's not coming." Hermione repeated reassuringly. "But I didn't think he'd come knowing you or I were here!"
Hermione watched Harry's eyes drift over her shoulder and to Zabini again. Then his eyes got shifty and Hermione could see him become visibly uncomfortable, but uncomfortable for her, and not for himself. She felt dread wash over her. No. No, no no no. She pleaded with her eyes and he met hers again and swallowed.
"Sorry, we're both in for a hell of a night."
Hermione turned her head to glance over her shoulder and to her disdain but not surprise, she saw a flash of white blond hair next to Zabini. She knew who it was. And Harry was absolutely right. They were both in for a hell of a night. She clasped his hand with a grip as painful as his was earlier and she swallowed the firewhiskey that had floated to them.
The aura in the room was light, reminding Hermione of a pre-Christmas party. Even though it was beginning to warm outside beyond the usual winter to spring air, the inside was a pleasant warmth that gave the impression that outside was snowy, so indoors would be extra cosy. It then reminded Hermione of the charms in the Vie hotel rooms. She didn't want to be conned into staying here longer than dinner. Determined, she set her mind from now, eat, leave, home.
"Professor!" Harry said too loudly and made Hermione jump. She tore her eyes from the crowd because to her surprise, she was scanning the heads for a familiar beacon she hoped to avoid.
"Harry! Horace is fine, my boy!" Professor Slughorn said in a haughty voice. His meaty fingers clasped Harry's shoulder with a familiarity that didn't quite exist and he turned and gave an odd little bow, then extended his palm to Hermione who took it. It was a mixture of an awkward shake and soft grasp due to Hermione's and Slughorn's unfamiliarity with each other.
"So good to see you." Hermione felt gratitude surge toward Harry who had pulled the attention back to him and let her regain her palm from Slughorn's unsure grasp. She noted that Harry still hadn't called him Horace and she smiled.
"Yes, thank you for having me." Hermione added, remembering her manners.
"Certainly my dear." Slughorn paused, momentarily distracted by a new arrival before he glanced back at Harry as though he suddenly remembered something.
"I invited your friends, Ronald and Ginerva Weasley, but neither have RSVP'd, I'm sorry to say." Slughorn explained, apologizing to Harry and Hermione for precisely what they had hoped for. They both smiled practiced smiles at their former professor and dispersed his concerns with waves of their hands that dismissed his presence and allowed them to breathe.
"Why am I here again?" Hermione groaned as she found a wall to complain to. Harry chuckled.
"You told me to get out there, or something like that." Harry pinched her and gently pulled her back to his side. Hermione giggled at the sudden movement and as they turned, they were blocked by two bodies. Hermione recognised the scent immediately.
"Is there anyone you're not going out with, Granger?" Malfoy's sharp voice sliced through the air. Harry stiffened at her side, but she suspected it was not Malfoy who had caused hatred to seethe forward in a way only she recognised. His face was pleasant, a smile plastered across it (not too widely) and his free arm extended to greet the two men standing before them.
Malfoy didn't extend his in return, not because he was being rude but because he was looking at Hermione so intently as though he expected her to answer seriously.
"Oh," Hermione feigned looking lovingly at Harry with more hearts in her eyes than was natural and then she leaned her shoulder into his. "I suppose I should have let you down lightly Malfoy, told you that you and I had split?"
Malfoy's cheeks pinkened and extended to more brightly coloured ears.
"Don't you read the Prophet ? Harry and I are getting married in July, just in time for his birthday!" Harry shook a little with laughter beside her and she couldn't resist the broad grin that spread across her face. Without leaving time for Malfoy to retort, she turned her attention to Zabini.
"As for you, I may not be as good as Gin with a Bat Bogey Hex, but I can make your life very uncomfortable. I suggest to make this night bearable, we put-" Hermione gestured vaguely between the four of them, "-aside for now. Now fuck off, both of you."
Zabini's mouth made an o like a fish, words never making it out of his mouth, before Malfoy wrenched him by his elbow and they disappeared into the crowd.
"Hermione, you're my hero." Harry laughed a light laugh. Hermione could still feel the tension in his body and see it by the pinch of his eyebrows.
"Yes, I'd much rather they both disappear, get ill, or that neither were born to begin with, but this is what I have to do to keep my friends happy."
Harry pressed a kiss to her temple and tugged her by the hand to the bar where they immediately downed glasses of a wizarding rum they had never had before. Zabini and Malfoy had enough sense to maintain their distance, and dinner passed without any duelling. Hermione could feel Malfoy's searing eyes on her but she refused to look at him as she smiled up at Harry, playing the doting fiance. This was quite fun.
Hermione stood, pushing back her chair with the back of her knees; she was ready to leave.
"Hermione, sorry. We have a social thing to stick around for. The after party." Harry had grasped her wrist as she maneuvered to walk away, and when she looked around at the table of people in various stages of standing, her eyes met Malfoy's stern, slate gray eyes. He was frozen, stock still, watching her like he was scared he might spook her. She glared at him before taking her hand back from Harry and nodding to him to acknowledge she heard him.
Then she went into the restroom and tried to breathe. Harry couldn't be right. Not about Malfoy and her. But whenever she saw him, she couldn't decipher what was happening in the pit of her own stomach that had begun to crawl into her chest and started nesting there.
When she returned to the party, the dining table gone and chairs at their respective smaller tables, she saw why Harry needed to stay and sighed as she glanced around for a flute of something sparkling. She gulped it back because flutes rarely had more than a mouthful and half of liquid and leaned against the wall to observe. Harry was speaking to a vampire by the looks of the stranger; pale, gaunt, with bloodshot eyes. Slughorn could never resist a spectacle.
Hermione was sure Harry was just doing his duty as an Auror and hoped he would hurry it along.
"Granger." Hermione tensed up at Zabini's voice and felt her teeth grind together in her effort not to scream. She finally looked up and her shoulders fell in relief to find Malfoy not at his side. All the same, Zabini was told to fuck off and here he was. Zabini swallowed nervously.
"Listen, I needed to say sorry." he said in a sincere tone that almost, almost pulled at her heartstrings. "I have my reasons, I swear. There's more to the picture-"
"Didn't Granger tell us- very eloquently, I might add- to fuck off, Blaise?" Malfoy was suddenly there and Hermione felt her shoulders go up in defense. She grasped at another flute of liquid floating around the room and gulped it back.
"I was asking her about your manners, and here you are, showing us exactly how terrible you are." Zabini didn't turn to look at Malfoy and instead wore a grimace on his face as though the company was equally unwelcomed by him as Hermione.
"If you really must know, he's very unsociable. Doesn't like to dance with anyone, at least not the first time I saw him at the Prevalence Ball. Plus he's rude." Hermione looked at him pointedly and let a smile tug at the corners of her mouth, Malfoy's eyes followed the movement.
"Hermione, again, I'm sorry. Please, don't let Gin hate me." Zabini pleaded, then with a wince inducing glare from Malfoy, he bowed his head very slightly and left.
Malfoy stood awkwardly for a moment before he flicked his wand- Hermione didn't even notice when he had grabbed it- and flicked the tip. A glass of firewhiskey hovered before he took it and sipped.
"Trying to frighten me with your obvious improvement in spell casting, Malfoy?" Hermione rocked to one hip and held his eyes like a challenge.
"I think I know you well enough to safely say I cannot frighten you, even if I intended to." Draco said after swallowing his sip. Hermione was feeling the effects of the light alcohol she had been drinking all night. Eight flutes of sparkling stuff might do that to a person, even if they had just finished a full five course meal. Her head swam as she looked at him, the way his Adam's apple moved as he swallowed and his eyes fixed to her mouth when she spoke.
"This isn't easy for me, you know." Malfoy placed a fist behind his back and his knuckles were white from gripping the glass tightly before him.
"What isn't? Being a normal human being?" Hermione felt the words come out too breathy, maybe she shouldn't have had that last flute.
"Everyone hated me, Granger. You and your friends included." His eyebrows pinched as his eyes momentarily glazed over as though remembering the past, then he focused on her again, swallowed, and continued. "Rightfully, I mean. I was - it was messy- back then."
"Maybe you could try being nicer. Less scowly." Hermione pointed at the space between her own eyebrows and smiled at the thought, because it was funny. She was teasing Malfoy about being too surly and here he was, nervous, ridgid, and awkward. "You're so gloom and doom all the time, I'd think you were still sixteen years old."
Malfoy had watched the way the corners of her mouth tugged upward on her cheeks and followed her finger to her forehead, then he smiled in return which made Hermione lose her balance and she had to struggle to right herself on the wall, hoping she didn't look too much like a hopeless drunk. She only noticed he had extended his previously hidden fist to catch her, but he withdrew it as soon as her eyes found it extended but not reaching her.
"Sorry." Hermione apologized without realising she had no reason to. Malfoy's face had returned to being unconcerned and his form reverted to upright and statue still. The glass in his hand was near empty. "Why are you still here." It was more an observation than a question.
"I'm trying to be less gloom and doom."
Hermione watched him and couldn't hold back the giggle that escaped her intoxicated mouth, because Malfoy was standing like a statue, or a guard, with furrowed brows and an imposing figure, trying not to be exactly everything he was. His eyes widened with surprise at her laughter, as though he didn't realise the exact irony of his statement.
"Hermione." Harry was at her side now, and Malfoy had sidestepped, almost disappearing into the wall. "We can go now." Harry glanced at Malfoy and then at Hermione's face that was blotchy pink from her fit of giggles before. She nodded and without thinking, lifted her hand in a half wave at Malfoy as they walked out of the noisy tavern and into the quiet, cool air of Hogsmeade Village.
"Didn't you tell him to fuck off?" Harry said as he steadied her on their walk to the apparition point, one that happened to have a clear view of Hogwarts in the distance which allowed a fresh wave of nostalgia to wash over them. It was like a field trip on an evening and they were returning to the safety and warmth of the castle on a Saturday.
"I did, but don't worry about it. I had enough alcohol that it didn't matter."
"Sorry I made you come out tonight." Harry stood with Hermione, her hand in his as they gazed at the twinkling lights of Hogwarts. She looked up at him and smiled.
"I had fun, I never get to spend time with you anymore." She reached and pinched his side. "Plus, I got to see Auror Potter at work. How exciting!" She grinned until her cheeks hurt and Harry grinned back.
Then they were gone.