Saturday, May 17th, 2003.
Part two: Not-so-fortuitous encounter.
"Are you lost?" She grimaced, lifting both her eyebrows to disappear in her gigantic mess of a hair.
"Drunk. Can't be held responsible for my actions." He justified.
"Of course." She snorted, before starting toying with her glass, frowning in disbelief. Well, he wasn't drunk. Whatever excuse he made up, he could just have stayed on his stool, he'd willingly sat with her instead. He had no idea why. Neither why she didn't seem to mind it.
"What's your excuse for not running away?"
"Curiosity." She shrugged blankly.
"What about?" Apparently he wanted to know. She considered him a moment, a light frown topping her eyes, and finally answered:
"Any new business associations I should worry about?"
"Ah, work. I should have guessed." He smirked. Of course, work. Some things never changed. She only shrugged, watching the amber liquid swirl in her glass. "Only one." He eventually obliged.
"Let me guess?" She asked. Draco assumed at her face that she only asked out of politeness. Maybe he should have stayed on his stool, he was bothering her.
"Err ... help yourself?" He gave awkwardly. She smiled faintly. Perhaps she was really curious about it. He realised she was when her frown deepened. Her brown eyes grew wider and she seemed to see right through him suddenly. Then, her gaze swept from left to right, just like if she were reading. She started tapping tiny fingers to the rim of her glass and after a minute, her eyes lost the unseeing glaze they'd gotten and she blurted as if having an epiphany:
"Nott senior!"
"Congratulations, you have a brain." He mocked but didn't get time to see the effects of his smirk for she was quick to snap back:
"Well, if you'd had one yourself, you would have put him in competition with Flint. As I reckon both companies provide potion supplies from private producers. If their investments had reached around a thousand Galleons you could have reopened all the potion shops you closed two years ago."
His mouth snapped open but nothing came out of it and he closed it again quickly. She'd hit something. Making Nott compete with Flint was a bet she'd have taken. Knowing Malfoy had only hired one though, meant he'd gone for the less risky association. The more trustworthy partnership. He'd consulted the archives and Nott came atop the elder Malfoy's past associates.
"And what tells you it doesn't reach the thousand?" He challenged.
"You have to report investments above three hundred Galleons."
"Err … right I forgot I had a Ministry official in front of me." He grimaced. Hermione shrugged and he debated: "I would have had to check Flint's background though, his associates and producers too."
"Flint is really careful, there was a full file about his company in the archives as well." She countered.
"It was incomplete." He stated, pleating his eyes as if daring her to contradict him.
"Only because the last report is currently in my office." He blinked. She saw it, the way he refrained an irritated frown, she was getting at him.
"If you go there, I could just associate with private producers myself. Nott and Flint are just intermediaries." He kept trying.
"Or you could have let one of their companies staff the shops and run them, and then only bothered to take your share."
"Let someone else run my shops?" He frowned. Hermione had no idea if he was more curious or disdainful about the idea. She tried to make a point:
"They're under controls every three months. It's a safe bet. Plus I conceived the regulations." He fell silent a moment, his mask of indifference returning. He was definitely hiding behind it. Then he finally gave up and muttered under his breath:
"Damn Gryffindor." A little laugh escaped her lips.
"Well, not taking any risks could be considered Slytherin then."
He cocked an eyebrow at her, which lowered after a few seconds. He practically smiled then, a barely there smile. It was still ... unsettling.
"I guess that's one thing that will never change." He said. She couldn't agree more. It was the one thing she knew about him.
"Cheers to that." She nodded. They didn't click their glasses together, but lifted them. Hermione drank what little was left of her glass and put it down on the table with the firm intention to refill it, when he grabbed the bottle just before her, pulled her glass from her hand and poured the firewhiskey himself. He seemed oblivious to the fact that she'd been about to. Like … like if his posh manners were reflexes. He put the bottle down again, and pushed her glass back to her then.
"Thanks." She managed. He nodded, and returned his attention to his own glass. Manners. What a foreign thing to see on a man. Hermione had a sudden flash of Ron, stuffing his face with his mother's pie, talking at the same time and spitting everywhere around his plate. Wan' som' Mione?
"What are you doing here alone, Granger?" Hermione snapped back to reality with that. His face had returned to disinterested blankness.
"I'm waiting for Astoria." He nodded knowingly. "You?"
"Err … Waiting for Blaise." The minute hesitation reminded Hermione of where he'd been just before.
"Really?" She asked.
"Yes." He watched her suspiciously and she couldn't repress a small mocking smile.
"So, you weren't at Madam Pudifoot's earlier?" There! No more hiding behind bored or disdainful expressions! His eyes grew so wide that Hermione almost burst out laughing. Then, they pleated under his pointy nose, and he lifted a warning finger to her face:
"Careful Granger."
She chuckled, utterly unimpressed.
"Sorry but … Madam Pudifoot's?" Her eyes laughed. He could see she was refraining her laughter very hard. He rolled his eyes, then, shrugged. It was funny after all. That's when she laughed. He let himself chuckle in return when he should have stayed impassible. But …
He'd really been at Madam Pudifoot's. With hairy mole Sherry. She'd made a scene. She'd thrown him a heart shaped cookie. With pink frosting.
All that for the woman that was currently laughing at him. She stopped rather quickly though and she went back to the serious frown she'd worn before.
"I'm sorry Malfoy. It's just so … unexpected."
"I didn't expect it myself." He answered without thinking. She sniggered again.
"Why do that to yourself?" If only she knew.
"I have no idea." He lied.
"I take it, it didn't end well?" She presumed, eyeing the bottle of liquor.
"Oh, hell no." He sighed. "Don't buy the next Witch Weekly." She had a little bitter chuckle.
"Err … That paper's a pile of crap."
"Cheers to that." He found himself almost smiling when she did. She lifted her drink again, took a small sip at it, and then said:
"We've done that way too much."
"Agree."
"That too." She pointed out. Was she smirking? Yes, she definitely was. This time he smiled and her smirk morphed into a contained grin. It changed her face.
The conversation deflated a moment but Draco realised he didn't mind the quiet. Unexpectedly, it wasn't awkward. They drank in companionable silence. The fact that it was Hermione Granger in front of him didn't seem relevant, up until Greengrass appeared at the door. She gave them a millisecond of a surprised frown before smiling.
"Malfoy? What are you doing here?" She greeted him.
"Having a drink with Granger apparently." He shrugged, he should probably leave them alone now.
"Oh. All right." She sat down at Granger's right, as if nothing. "What were you talking about?"
When Blaise arrived at Hog's Head, he had been expecting anything but what was waiting for him. They didn't even notice him enter the pub. Only Aberforth, who sported a bright smirk that could have made Salazar Slytherin himself pale, acknowledged him with a nod.
Draco had his back to him, and was sitting facing Granger, next to Astoria. Both women were giggling and apparently alcohol had already been flooding.
Evidently his plans of coming in with his friend to fortuitously encounter, again, both women in the middle of their girl's night out, had been useless. He had to ask Astoria what had happened, though that would have to wait until breakfast. Because yes, he would definitely stay for breakfast, again.
He took a few steps in, and still they didn't even see him. They were talking vividly about something related to receptionists. Blaise stayed still a moment to choose the better way to interrupt but what he saw made him forget about his bright entrance.
Draco, who was only giving a few words from time to time – words that, at Blaise's greatest surprise, made both women laugh – had a small smile permanently glued to his face. He was smiling.
Who would have thought that Granger – and maybe Astoria but she was his – of all people, would be able to lift the lad's mood in the space of what? Forty minutes? Blaise himself wasn't capable of such a miracle in hours.
Frowning, he cleared his throat. Twice.
"Oh Blaise! Join us!" Finally.
"Zabini." Even Granger was smiling at him. Oh, right, she liked him now.
Zabini grabbed a chair from another table and sat between Hermione and Astoria.
"So, having fun without me?" He smirked. "How are you Granger?" He asked, nonchalantly putting an arm behind each of the women's back.
"Well, now that you're here …" She teased.
"Oh come on! I know you like me Granger." His self-confidence was funnier than impressive. Hermione chuckled, making the three former Slytherins snigger. She tried to catch herself:
"Right Zabini, I only have eyes for you." She droned in a bored tone, rolling her eyes.
Malfoy was definitely drunk. He was smirking his face off at Zabini, and even wiggled his eyebrows knowingly at his friend, making the last scowl.
"Isn't that exactly what you wanted Blaise? If you play it smart, I'm sure you can bring both to bed tonight." Hermione jumped in:
"I'm so flattered! I might even vomit."
Zabini rolled his eyes and Astoria burst out laughing. Her laughter was catching and, as the dark skinned man forgot to sulk to stare at her, Malfoy guffawed. It was the most surprising thing Hermione had ever seen. Zabini startled and watched his best friend with googly eyes. Apparently it wasn't that often that Draco ferret Malfoy laughed. Astoria seemed oblivious to their astonishment and extolled:
"Another night of carpet washing for Aberforth!"
That cut the laughter and the astonishment. Zabini and Malfoy were frowning, both sweeping their gaze from Astoria to Hermione.
"I hope she's joking or you're all banished!" Came Aberforth's answer. Hermione rubbed her face in her hands. Aberforth was looking at her, fiercely menacing. Great.
"What did you do Granger? What did she do?" Asked Zabini. Malfoy's stare was annoying, especially since it was sitting above a gigantic knowing smirk. If he'd guessed though, he didn't say anything. Hermione sighed, as Astoria was apparently too drunk and too stuck in the middle of uncontrollable giggle, to answer. She decided that a bit of auto-derision wouldn't hurt anyone. At least they would laugh.
"I drank myself to death Tuesday night and threw up everywhere in the back room." She confessed. Astonishment crossed Zabini's face as Malfoy seemed to realised he'd been thinking right. He chuckled, his eyes still on her.
"I had to floo her home!" Now, they all laughed. Even Malfoy!
"Oh come on! That's enough! I already apologised!" She chastised, only to see the old wizard's beard wrinkle under a mocking smirk. He'd been trying to embarrass her.
"I know dear."
"What is it you don't know anyway." She mumbled as Aberforth went back to cleaning glasses behind his counter. When she sighed and went to take the bottle of firewhiskey, Malfoy was again quicker, and poured her a drink. He didn't watch the liquid flow from the bottle to the glass. His grey eyes were right on her still, his frown deep.
"What?" He blinked.
"Nothing." He shrugged and pushed her glass back to her.
Tuesday night she'd said, the day Weasley had come to her office. Draco had been right, the wanker had probably blamed her for all the misery whacking his very small pea of a brain.
She took a sip at her drink, and then downed it whole. Draco was still astonished by the way she drank. It couldn't possibly be a good sign.
Why would he even wonder?
Shrugging inwardly, he tried to focus on the conversation again but found himself incapable of. His mood had shifted again. Why had he even sat with her? Couldn't he mind his own business for once? Hadn't he done enough already?
He bloody well had. And now what? He was spending the evening with both women, when he could have spent it complaining to Blaise, and make him say what was up with him.
He sighed, it was quite hypocritical of him to use his petulance to pretend that he hadn't enjoyed it.
Right, even before Greengrass had come over, he hadn't spent a horrible time. Quite the opposite actually, he had even been given a brilliant idea. Although he would never confess that aloud.
When Greengrass had joined them, as if nothing, thinking of which was odd, he'd managed to not think about anything else but their somehow light conversation.
That woman was definitely right for Blaise, whether the fellow cared or not, they had quite a lot in common. Funny, sneaky, smart, loyal friends. Upon this thought Draco saw them exchanging a tiny whisper and then, Blaise winked. Greengrass was all eyes for him again.
Draco returned his attention to Granger, whose face seemed constricted in thoughts. She snapped out of it as Blaise patted her shoulder and smirked:
"So, Granger, how's work? Big trial coming?"
"Err … yes."
"How's it looking?"
"Difficult." He gave her one of his disbelieving looks he always had when a witch was unmoved by his flirting. She grimaced.
"She'll do just fine." Nodded Greengrass with a grin.
"I don't know. It was months of exhausting work." Granger frowned.
"But you're ready, right?" Continued the other witch.
"I am."
"Then you'll win." Granger chuckled at Greengrass' praise. After a second her mouth lifted slightly:
"It's true that I never lost a case, I hope my luck didn't vanish."
"I doubt it had anything to do with luck Hermione, stop being so modest you're no Hufflepuff. Hard work and a big fat brain is what got you there."
"Err …"
"Don't like compliments Granger? You should take them, she's the only one here who's going to give you some." Draco couldn't help but smirk a bit at Blaise's words.
"I never doubted that Zabini. But you know what? Yes, I'll bloody well win. Because I've been wrecking my brain for months on this case and that bastard is going to win a ticket to Azkaban, just as he deserves."
"Good spirit! Gryffindor Granger back in town!"
"Oh shut it you obnoxious Slytherin."
"Ouch. That stings." Blaise pretended having been shot in the chest and then returned to his half-serious tone: "You said you never lost a case?" She shrugged. "What do you do during those trials? You're not the one chairing them, are you?"
"Depends on the case, but sometimes I am yes."
"So, it's your role to analyse every piece of evidence then?"
"Yes. What's with the questioning Zabini?" She asked with a suspicious stare.
"Just interested. Do …"
"You don't happen to have done something wrong, do you?"
"Nothing that could be traced back to me." He smirked. Draco snorted and Granger eyed him, chuckling.
"Right." She huffed.
"Anyway, so, you review the evidences and?" Blaise insisted.
"And I sort them, check their relevance, have them analysed if necessary. I manage practically all the paperwork and prepare the counter-defence too, order for investigations or interviews, many things actually."
"In other words you have your head buried in Laws all day long."
"Exactly." She confirmed.
That's then that Blaise gave Draco a hint. Unwillingly though. He smirked and winked at Greengrass again. He was drunk already, because he didn't seem to realise that Draco had seen.
Draco wasn't stupid though, and when Greengrass shot him a quick glance, Blaise's whole plan unfolded before his eyes. Granger seemed suspicious too but she couldn't possibly know what this was about. Draco felt anger creep up his chest.
Hadn't he been clear enough? He didn't want to have his contract analysed. Blaise had planned this whole thing with Greengrass, and the owl he'd received the previous day had probably been from her. They'd been supposed to come in there only at nine thirty, when both women would have already been there. And now Blaise was trying to subtly get her to help.