A/N: Chapter Twenty! Oh, ladies, guys, people, this fic is primarily about Hermione's journey through relationships and stuff, spanning her teen years and her twenties, so she'll obviously be in relationships with different guys at various points. Just because there's minimum Draco right now, doesn't mean he won't be back full swing. I realize that's kind of a spoiler, but I felt I had to say this somewhere, since people are freaking out about the pairing in the description.

In another life, I'm sure mine and Ron's relationship would have panned out better. I mean, he was a complete knob during our teenaged years — but he had changed significantly since then and grown into a smart, well-rounded young man. I was proud of him, more than anything. I was proud that he excelled in his career and that he was able to sustain a relationship with someone as far out of his comfort zone as Daphne.

Did I mention she was also a Healer? Because there's that, too. Nott introduced us the first time, during the Harvest Moon party. Before then, I'd seen her at various social gatherings but I'd never spoken to her on a proper woman-to-woman level. Sensing this, my roommate took it upon himself to facilitate a meeting without the added tension that society placed on us for having one man in common.

Nott did things like that; kind, thoughtful things that went over most peoples' heads.

Bearing this in mind, let's progress to what happened after my little eavesdropping session.

I returned home at around nine o'clock that night, knackered from being out and about with Daphne. I'd somehow convinced her to hang out in town as opposed to her house, seeing as Ronald and Draco were both there — and I would rather have sold my left tit than face them.

I needed time to process.

More than that, I needed a break.

It was difficult running around, chasing after Death Eaters, but I would have taken Death Eaters over drama a million times over. I hated being caught in the middle of things. On one hand, I appreciated that Ronald had it in him to defend me after everything that happened between us, but on the other hand I understood Draco's disposition as well.

Sending me that letter had been a massive, massive mistake — but it didn't change the fact that there was chemistry between us and that we had, in fact, shared a kiss at midnight. It lasted a couple seconds at most, long enough for me to realize I still felt something for him, but not enough to reconcile our differences.

I buried those feelings and that tension deep inside, and unlocked the front door to mine and Nott's house; startled, as I slammed against his chest.

"Oh my — Granger —" In one swift motion, he swept an arm around me and held me in place, mere moments before I fell flat on my arse. "Are you all right?"

"Er —" I wanted to answer, but the moment I gathered myself and looked at him, I noticed his change in attire.

Nott was like me, in that he didn't care enough to dress up without an occasion — but that night there was something different about him. For the first time in a long, long time, he wasn't dressed in Healer uniform or his usual ensemble of black on black. I fixed my attention on him, and took note of his fitted denim trousers, along with his unbuttoned white henley and faded leather jacket.

I stared at him for about a minute, during which time there was a quiver along my bottom lip — one that I'm sure he noticed. "Going somewhere?"

"I'm headed to the pub with Blaise," he explained. " — mostly against my will."

"Oh —" I laughed, relieved for whatever reason.

In this moment, he ran a hand through his hair and allowed several wayward locks to feather over his forehead. "You should come with me."

I paused.

"— If you want to," he furthered. "Blaise asked me to bring you along."

"Really?" I inquired, a distinct arch in my brow.

Nott nodded, masking the indiscernible look in his eyes with a quick grin. "Bear in mind that he probably wants to sleep with you."

The arch deepened. "— and you're okay with this?"

"I trust your judgement," he shrugged, casual. "Should I not?"

I didn't have a response to this, as things between us had been left on an unspoken note since morning. I awoke to find him dressed for work, and pretended to be fast asleep until the front door closed behind him. It was difficult for me, having to face him after last night. I wasn't sure if he even remembered what he had done — how he slipped an arm around my waist and grazed my bare skin with his fingertips, whilst his lips were pressed to the crook of my neck.

But the longer I dwelled on it, the more tense things became.

"Give me a minute to change," I told him, no longer exhausted as I proceeded into my bedroom and rummaged through my clothes for something to wear.

After several moments of searching, I landed on something. It turned out to be Jillian's Christmas gift to me — an aged rose shift dress matched with black t-strap pumps. I had to admit, the outfit was a little much for a pub, but something in my subconscious told me I had to look good that night. That in mind, I returned to the main area with my hair in a loose knot and some light makeup to accent my eyes and cheekbones.

Nott stood there, waiting for me with his back turned, before tossing one look over his shoulder and staring at me with that same indiscernible look in his eyes.

I moved around him, to the door. "Ready to go?"

His expression wavered some. "Y — Yeah."

One Hour Later

It was an interesting locale.

There was nice music and a decent crowd, neither too few nor too many. I'd never been there before. It seemed most nights I was either at work or struggling to work at home. If I went out at all, it was usually with Ginny and Daphne, or Jillian and some of her friends, but that night I was out with Nott and his best mate from school.

Blaise was nothing like I remembered.

For one, he wasn't shouting offensive things at me as he had done on one occasion during our time at Hogwarts. For another, he was quite pleasant to be around. It made sense to me that he and Nott kept in touch and maintained their friendship. I could see traces of maturity in him that weren't present before; along with the fact that he filled out his clothes a lot better than when he was a teenager.

Trust me on this. I tried not to stare too much, though I figured the open mouth and twirling of the hair were dead giveaways.

Even so, the attraction was manageable until Nott left the table to order another round. It was around that time that I was left alone with Blaise — and those broad, herculean shoulders of his.

"So, tell me, what does Hermione Granger get up to these days?" he asked, speaking directly into my ear as the music was so loud.

I smiled at him. "Work, most of the time. How about you?"

"Same," he mouthed. "I'm touring with the Weird Sisters, so that keeps me busy."

Right — I should explain.

Blaise was a rising musician, and hired as the opening act for the most successful band in wizarding history. It was a massive deal, and I felt stupid for not knowing about it until then.

In the moments that followed, we immersed ourselves in discussion over wizarding music versus Muggle music and entered quite the debate over who had the better voice between Freddie Mercury and Myron Wagtail. I, of course, favoured Mercery, as he was the lead vocalist of my favourite band (Queen — in case you were born yesterday) whereas Blaise favoured Wagtail.

It was quite heated, to be honest.

Nott returned with our drinks some time later, claiming the bartender ignored him to serve some part-veela witches from Romania.

Blaise patted him on the back and demanded he settle the debate. "Mate, you have to tell your girlfriend about the Weird Sisters' show in Reading last spring. Wagtail lit the stage on fire! Literally!"

I fixed my attention on Nott, and noticed the twitch on his lip at the sound of that one word. I'm sure Blaise knew we were friends but he seemed the cheeky type. It was a harmless joke, of course, but it still passed a sweltering wave through me — one that relapsed over the crook of my neck…again and again and again.

"You're both wrong," Nott finally said, standing. "Morrissey wins, hands down!"

From there, the three of us laughed and drank and watched a brave few perform on the main stage — as it was open mic night. I'd never been to an open mic before. It always seemed embarrassing to me, watching amateurs take the stage, but the more I listened, the less those judgments clouded my brain.

It didn't hurt that I had a few drinks in me.

(More like six or seven — but you get the idea!)

It seemed I was having a better time than anticipated, as the hours passed at break-neck speed, to the point that it was close to midnight and the scheduled performers finished their sets. Around then, the atmosphere turned into more of a karaoke vibe and some drunk wizards from the Healer school across the street insisted on paying tribute to the Weird Sisters' rival band.

Blaise didn't like this — at all — and without telling me or Nott, rose from his seat and snatched the mic from their hands before paying tribute to his own idols. It was hilarious because he was drunk and stumbled a bit, but he didn't mess up the words at all, nor did he miss a single beat.

I'd never seen someone I knew take control of a stage like that. His voice was quite deep in conversation, but he could take it high in song and then low, in such a way that you could feel it in your chest. His dance moves were quite remarkable, as well, and I made mental note to remind him of those moves the next time we hung out.

I rose from my chair and clapped for him once the song was over. Everyone around me followed suit, and about three of those Romanian witches rushed to him for autographs and flirted at him shamelessly.

Blaise took it in stride, as he was probably used to such behaviour on tour.

All in all, it was shaping up to be one of the best, most carefree nights I'd had in a long time — until Blaise returned to our table with the mic in his hand. I could see it coming, but I didn't move for whatever reason.

"Your turn," he said to me, winking as he handed me the mic.

I blanked, holding the device with my mouth hanging open and with everyone in the pub staring at me, waiting for me to do something. I was sure most of them recognized me from the papers and wondered whether or not the hype was true. I didn't want to confirm that I was a desperate, depraved sex fiend — but I didn't want to stay locked up in my shell for all eternity either.

Sensing this, Nott leaned close and whispered something. Show them who you are, he said to me, knowing my worries and insecurities as though they were his own.

Just like that, my mind was decided.

This was my chance.

This was my chance to stand the fuck up and demand people see me for me, and not the person those damned tabloids painted me to be.

That in mind, I proceeded to the main stage and undid the pin that held my hair in place, before tossing it to the side and allowing my natural curls to bounce down to my elbows and all around my face. If I had to do this, I would keep it one hundred percent me — which meant no Sleekeazy Hair Potion and no one to hide behind.

Part of me wanted the tabloids to hear about this.

Part of me wanted people to talk.

I whispered my song selection to the man in charge and held the microphone to my mouth. It was then that the venue dimmed, and a single spotlight beamed down on me. I took note of the fact that this hadn't happened when Blaise or those lads from Healer school performed, but it didn't matter because the new lighting faded those curious faces from my vision and made it so there was only me, the stage and the microphone.

I took a deep, encompassing breath and sang those first few lyrics.

Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time

People whispered, perhaps trying to name the song, or to make fun of me. It was difficult to decide.

I feel alive and the world it's turning inside out, yeah

I tried hard not to focus on them. I tried only to sing and to get through the song in one piece — so I closed my eyes and continued.

I'm floating around in ecstasy

So don't stop me now — don't stop me

Once those lyrics left my mouth, the whispers faded.

It was possible the self-preservation in me had simply blocked the whispers out — but I realized then that I didn't care.

'Cause I'm having a good time

Having a good time

I opened my eyes and went for it.

I'm a shooting star leaping through the skies

Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity

One stride after another, the music and the instruments rose in volume, in tune with the lyrics as they carried the song into the highest of highs and in tune with me, as I sang as best I could.

Granted, my rendition was far and away from perfect. I made several mistakes and sang way off pitch but the point was that I had fun doing it.

Several people stood, dancing as the tempo rose to knew heights.

I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva

I wondered, in a deep, distant part of my brain, whether Nott spiked my drinks and whether the high I felt was at all natural.

I'm gonna go — go — go!

There's not stopping me!

I danced. I spun around. I tossed my head around and immersed myself in the song and the lyrics and the sound of people singing along with me. It was the strangest feeling in the world, being scrutinized since I was teenager and then this, having the confidence to let loose in front of all these people. I could hardly believe it. It felt amazing — euphoric.

…and I knew it was down to one person.

In part, Blaise, for even suggesting that I take the stage.

But his wasn't the name that came to mind. There was only one person out there to ever have built me up instead of tear me down. I sang the song for him, for having such an amazing, thoughtful, beautiful influence in my life.

Maybe the universe didn't hate me so much after all.

Maybe the universe had been trying to tell me something all along.

Two Hours Later

Blaise left with one of the Romanian girls and parted ways with us about a minute into our walk home. It would have been faster to Apparate, but doing that required focus and we were still under the influence of this and that, definitely not looking to get splinched. That in mind, we laughed and continued onward with our arms slung around each other as we stumbled through the front door and into the lounge.

It was dim inside the house, which proved difficult seeing as we were both a little bit drunk and struggling to walk, let alone make it to our bedrooms in one piece.

"Mercury…" Nott voiced, sounding as exhausted as he looked, as we collapsed onto the same sofa, facing one another.

I blinked several times, striving to keep my eyes open. "Hmm?"

"Mercury wins…" he furthered, echoing the earlier debate, fighting to stay awake.

It took a moment for me to realize what he was talking about, after which I smiled against the fabric of his shirt and realized then, how close we were and how natural it felt to be near him.

"Morrissey isn't so bad either…" I murmured.

A/N: Thoughts?

Cheers

xo.