Chapter 9

Hermione had arrived early, so she was sitting at her favorite table, the one facing the afternoon sunlight, when Harry walked in. After Fortescue's had been destroyed in the war, a distant relative decided to reopen it under the name Forever Fortescue's, and out of respect for the man that had been so kind to Harry as a child, Harry made it a point to eat there regularly.

Of course, it didn't hurt that they had the best ice cream—magical or otherwise—in all of England. Even Hermione, who didn't have much of a sweet tooth, sometimes found herself craving some of the flavors from the secret recipe book of the Fortescue family.

She had already gotten herself a bowl of Chocolate Fiendfyre (a sort of spicy cinnamon chocolate chipotle flavor), and was slowing making her way through it, making sure to savor every bite. There was no point waiting for the boys, as they would gobble theirs up so fast that Hermione would still be eating even if she started first.

With a sigh, she remembered that it was only Harry and her eating ice cream together now. Despite her current feelings towards Ron, it was hard to erase the memories of so many moments of friendship. Everywhere she looked, and even the time she spent with Harry, she was reminded of some aspect of their life together, whether it was their friendship or romantic relationship.

She put another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth as Harry came in and sat down.

"Hello, Hermione," he greeted her cheerfully. "Fiendfyre again?" A quick perusal of the menu was unnecessary, as Harry had it memorized, but he always checked, just in case.

"It's my favorite!" she mumbled around her mouthful of delicious ice cream that was both cold and hot at the same time, while Harry ordered three different flavors for himself.

Knowing that Harry had just announced Ron's resignation from being an Auror, Hermione carefully broached the subject. "How did the meeting go?" Even when they met regularly, it was rarely during the middle of the afternoon on a workday. But Harry had suggested it, and Hermione had figured she didn't have anything to lose by skiving off for a couple of hours. She also suspected that Harry needed some time out of the office.

The look on his face at her question confirmed it. He rolled his eyes a bit and shrugged. "Ron was there, of course."

"Of course," she echoed, trying not to prompt him into continuing.

"I'm happy for him, you know," Harry reminded her. But remembering, he backtracked, "Not about… You Know Who…"

"Is she not to be named, then?" Hermione asked, almost amused. "If we can call Voldemort by name, I imagine we can call Lavender Brown by name, too."

"Well," Harry conceded, "I mean, I'm not happy about…her." He still couldn't bring himself to say it; not directly to Hermione, anyway. "I just mean about the Cannons. He's always wanted to be a Quidditch player."

"I know," Hermione said quietly. She'd regularly listened to Ron rant and rave about how badly the Cannons needed a star quality player like him. She had never encouraged him, feeling that Quidditch player wasn't really as good of a career as an Auror. But she wasn't exactly surprised that he had decided to go for it. He probably felt that she had held him back their whole relationship. She also wasn't surprised the Cannons had hired him. They were truly an awful team.

Mixing the three flavors from the bowls in front of him, Harry filled his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "I'm sure that he only ever planned on being an Auror so that we could be partners together. It was always my dream, never his."

Hermione nodded at this, catching the slightly melting bits on the edges of her ice cream with her spoon.

"I just…" Harry paused, ostensibly to shove more ice cream into his mouth, "…I guess I just didn't really think Ron would leave me, too."

"Harry," Hermione chided, her stomach churning a bit at the words about leaving. Technically, she had left Ron, but it was clearly obvious to everyone that she hadn't really done the leaving. "I'm sure it's not like that."

"I just don't know who he is anymore, Hermione." He swiped his hands through his hair, leaving it messier than it was. With a sigh, and another spoonful, he added, "I'm not really sure I care anymore."

"Harry," Hermione began a conversation they had already had several times. "You know that you can be friends with Ron. I understand that. Our relationship was between the two of us, and whether we succeeded or failed doesn't have to touch our individual friendships with you."

"It doesn't work that way," Harry said, like he always did, with a shake of his head and a gigantic bite of ice cream for punctuation. Hermione didn't want to feel that she was standing in the way of a legendary friendship, but it did make her feel good to have the assurance that Harry was still on her side. To be fair, she wasn't sure that she would be able to handle it if Harry and Ron resumed their previous closeness. She would try. But she was glad she didn't have to worry about that just yet.

At that moment, the door to Fortescue's opened and through the late afternoon sunlight it was hard to see the face of the person who walked in, but the bright glint off of platinum-white hair made his identity unmistakable. For the first time in a very long time, the unexpected sight didn't make her flash back to fears of seeing Lucius or other Death Eaters. Actually, she felt a moment of warmth for the man who used to be her childhood enemy.

She almost permitted a small smile to escape her as she thought about their escapade at the Ministry dinner. She'd actually had fun at one of those stuffy functions, and had been grateful for the brief distraction from her troubles.

Malfoy approached the table, startling her, and caused her heart to skip a nervous beat, wondering if he had come to talk to her.

"Hello, partner!" Harry stood, clapping him on the shoulder in a friendly fashion.

"He keeps calling me that," Draco said to Hermione, ignoring Harry's enthusiasm. The look of long-suffering on his face caused a genuine smile to appear on Hermione's.

"Take a seat!" Harry offered, placing a menu in front of him, while Draco stiffly sat at their little table. As Harry was sitting opposite Hermione, and the table was up against a window, he had no choice but to be the awkward third person in the middle of a table clearly meant for two.

He was just about to suggest moving to another table when Hermione exclaimed, "Partners!" Looking between the two of them, it was clear she found the idea highly amusing – the two least likely to get along in Hogwarts, suddenly partnered together to save Wizarding London? She tried to hide her smile and failed.

Draco placed an order for some ice cream and felt the need to point out, "I'll have you know, I never agreed to any of this."

Harry was still shoveling food in his mouth, and the somber mood from before seemed to have disappeared. With his mouth full, Harry argued, "You agreed to my reign—I mean, rules—when you joined my department, Malfoy."

With his arms crossed, Draco just stared at Harry. Harry gave him a grin and waved cheekily.

Hermione felt compelled to chime in. "Well, I think it will work out just brilliantly." At the disbelieving stare from both of the boys, she added, "If you don't kill each other, of course."

"Of course," Malfoy echoed.

"No, seriously," she continued. "You are both brilliant Aurors with a natural talent and quick on-your-feet thinking. I honestly don't know why I didn't think of it before."

"Well," Draco drawled, "Potter here seemed to have a life-partner in the Weasel, so that could be why."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a quick, uncomfortable glance before Harry looked down at his bowl. There was no time to respond as just then Harry announced, "Oh, Ginny wants to know if you're coming to dinner tonight."

Hermione paused, hesitant, and said, "Well, there's a sale at Flourish & Blotts today that I had wanted to check out." Her brow furrowed, clearly trying to come up with a way to do both.

Potter just laughed, and said, "Well then, we'd never get you out before closing time." He winked at her, and said, "Don't worry, I'll tell Ginny. She knows even Jamie can't compete with your books."

Playfully indignant, Hermione protested, "Well, that's not fair!" After a pause, she added, "Jamie might compete. But he's in bed by dinnertime, anyway."

Potter grinned at her, clearly agreeing with her assessment of baby Jamie's appeal. Then he said, "Ginny also says she needs me for something important, so I'm going to pop off and be right back!" He quickly got up from the table, scooting his chair backwards as he made his way back out the front door.

Curious, Hermione wondered aloud, "Oh, I wonder what that could be about?"

Draco added, "I didn't even see him receive a Patronus. Do you suppose the Potters have mastered telepathy?"

With a laugh, Hermione explained, "Oh, it's his wrist cuff. I had it charmed to work as kind of a two-way communication device. Ginny taps her wand to her matching cuff, and the message is relayed to Harry's. His cuff warms up briefly to let him know there's a message."

Thinking, Draco asked, "Wasn't that what you did back in fifth year with that Army thing?"

She was surprised that he remembered that. Slightly embarrassed, she answered, "Yes, actually. Only we used galleons, then. I wasn't quite as good at the charms at the time."

With a snort, he dismissed this claim. "You outsmarted adults three times your age and performed spells that were considered too advanced for a student. You were certainly quite good even at the time."

"Why thank you, Malfoy," she smiled. "It's nice to hear you say that after all these years."

Unsure of how to respond to her smile, and strangely needing to know, he asked her if she also sent special messages to Potter via his magic wrist cuff. He felt very much like an interloper in a web of intricate relationships that he could never truly hope to understand.

But she just shook her head and said, "Oh, no! Just Ginny and Ron." And then she must have felt the need to clarify because she added, "Ginny, of course, because he's his wife. And Ron, because he is—well, was—his Auror partner."

As she slowly started scooping out the sides of her bowl, she continued, "Ron only ever used it when they were in the field. He didn't even wear it unless he was in uniform. Said it was kind of like a leash or a tracking system and made him feel…" she paused, her spoon poised hesitantly before she took her bite, "…trapped."

There was a silence afterwards, one that Draco was unsure of how to alleviate. He wasn't socially skilled enough to determine if the silence was awkward or not. In his experience, all silences were either awkward or ominous, and as he didn't sense any danger, it was probably quite awkward. Normally, he wouldn't care. But Hermione seemed to be bothered by their subject, as if Ron's feelings of being trapped extended past the cuff to include his relationship with her. And Draco felt an unusual urge to soothe.

Without thinking, he asked, "Do you suppose Potter will make me wear one?"

Hermione looked at him, her expression unreadable as she replied a little sharply, "I'm sure he won't force you to remain in constant contact with him. He never forced Ron, either." With a shrug, she continued, "And if your partnership is just temporary, there'd be no real need for it. None of the other partners use them."

Of this, Draco was aware, since he had never even heard of the things until now. But he felt compelled to ask, "Why not, if it's such a good tool to have in the field?"

The slight scrunching of her eyebrows as she considered his question was made more adorable by the fact that she had chocolate ice cream on the side of her mouth. Draco very carefully kept his hands on the table to prevent him from reaching over to wipe it off, which distracted him long enough to miss the first part of her answer. "What?" he asked.

"Well, I can't be expected to just make them for everyone."

He shook his head and said, "No, I meant, what did you say before that?"

"I said, I guess because I never made any others." At his slightly thoughtful look, she added, "I only made the one set because Harry asked me to. No one else ever has."

Draco wasn't sure how many cuffs comprised a set, but had a burning desire to know if she and Ron had matching cuffs. And he felt his mouth opening to ask the question, even though he was trying to tell his brain that it was none of his business. "Did you have a cuff then, too?"

She looked askance at him, thinking she'd already answered that question. "No, I told you, just Harry connected to Ginny and Ron."

She was right. She had told him, and Draco felt a bit silly for needing to have the fact confirmed.

"Well, maybe I want one, then." The words left him feeling even more than a bit silly. It was a ridiculous request, but the idea of Potter being connected to his wife for love, and his partner for protection and friendship, was such an appealing idea. He had never once had a relationship, familial, romantic, platonic or otherwise, where his own safety and well-being was of such concern to anyone else. It was decidedly humiliating to think that he wanted anything similar to what Potter had, but a hitherto unacknowledged piece of himself was positively excited over the prospect of having a group to belong to. A group that included ridiculous matching cuffs. Of course, he only wanted one person on the other end of that cuff, and the idea of what it would be like to have Hermione sending him private messages tied his stomach into knots. There was no cure for it: he was going to have to leave or he was going to embarrass himself with such un-Malfoy-like behavior.

But before he could excuse himself and take his leave, Hermione responded to his question with, "Well, you could always ask Harry if you could wear Ron's. I'm sure he left it behind with his Auror equipment."

The flippant response suggesting that he not only wear, but ask for something that had belonged to the Weasel, left him aghast with his mouth gaping open, the last spoonful of his own ice cream hovering in midair.

The appalled look on his face caused Hermione to convulse with laughter. With her spoon in her mouth, and the afternoon sunlight glinting off of her hair, Draco though she looked absolutely lovely, and felt rather proud to be able to make her laugh. He started to smile at her. But then he remembered why she was laughing, and what she had said, and he started frowning again.

This only made her laugh harder, the sounds ringing in the air. She shook her head and said, "I'm sorry. Of course. What was I thinking?" She giggled again. "I'll talk to Harry, and if he thinks it's a good idea, I'll make you one." More giggles. "Lots of old-fashioned ornate designs, befitting your pure-blood status."

As she was clearly making fun of him, he made a face at her suggestion and demanded she make it plain and silver. Unless it was black. Although, the Malfoy crest or the Slytherin insignia would not be amiss, of course.

His comments just made her keep laughing. Unsure of what to make of the sudden change in atmosphere, but feeling a lightness in his chest at her company, he decided it really was time for him to go back to work. And come to think of it, where had Potter gone? Had he really just left him there?

"I'd better go back and check if Potter needs rescuing," he told Hermione as he stood up, and she saluted him with her spoon, still laughing quietly to herself.

He rolled his eyes as he walked away and Hermione congratulated herself on predicting correctly that she would still be the last one to finish her ice cream. As she finished off the very last bite, she was still smiling and thinking of how she could customize a communication cuff that was perfectly acceptable to a hard-to-please Malfoy. The idea of a little stylized ferret engraved on the top made her burst out laughing again as she imagined the face Draco would make if she presented him with it.

Feeling considerably lighter than she had upon entering, Hermione exited Fortescue's and made her way back to finishing up her own afternoon.