A/N: I'm back! With a very random update. My apologies for the delay. Hopefully, this time my muse sticks around for longer…

And for those who asked: Yes, this will eventually be a DM-HG-BZ pairing. At the moment, however, Hermione is single and Draco and Blaise are in a relationship (I don't think I made it very clear whether they were friends or more at this stage of the story…)

So, a warning to those who don't like FMM or MM pairings – this isn't the story for you!

For those who, like me, are fans of a little Dramionaise goodness, read on!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or You've Got Mail.


Jealousy

Chapter 2

Hermione leant back in her chair and sighed, rubbing her forehead wearily.

Beside her, Terry Boot shook his head in frustration. "I don't know why it keeps failing. According to our calculations, it should have worked."

Susan Bones, still bent over the ruined cauldron, morosely poked at the mess with a spare stirring rod. "I agree. The theory was completely sound."

"Maybe we missed something," Hermione suggested.

"We all double-checked those calculations," Susan pointed out. "Surely one of us would have picked up on a mistake."

Hermione bit her lip, deep in thought. "Maybe… it's not so much that the calculations are wrong, but that our expectations of how the ingredients will react are not entirely correct."

Terry sat up straight. "You're saying that we've stumbled onto a combination that would change the Reactivity Order set by the Potions Committee in 1987?"

Susan's eyes were alight. "It makes sense! We're dealing with a whole new branch of healing potions, experimenting with combinations that have never been attempted before. It's entirely possible that such a new combination exists. I mean, before the R.O., there were heaps of amendments to reactivity concepts made by potions masters who found out whilst creating new potions."

"If we're right, then we need to start testing."

"If we can isolate the ingredients responsible, we'll be line for the first amendment to the R.O. ever," Terry said excitedly.

"And, we'll be able to attempt further experimentation with substitutes, maybe even find the solution this time!"

Hermione smiled. Finally, things were looking up. Today was looking like a very good day, indeed.

* * *

Hermione ambled along Diagon Alley after a pleasant lunch with Terry and Susan, feeling more hopeful that their research was finally going somewhere. She paused outside Gringotts, debating whether or not to withdraw money.

From behind, a witch rudely pushed past, making Hermione stumble and drop her bag, parchment scattering haphazardly across the cobblestones. Huffing, Hermione went to bend down, only to find a wizard had knelt down to retrieve her belongings.

He stood up, light brown hair artfully mussed, and presented the bundle of parchments with a flourish.

"Er," Hermione said, automatically taking the pile and stuffing it into her bag, "Thank you…?" Merlin, where have I seen him before? Hermione wondered, eyeing the familiar looking man. Wasn't he in my year at Hogwarts?

The man laughed. "I take it you don't remember me, Hermione." He bowed playfully. "Michael Corner, at your service."

When were we ever on a first-name basis? Hermione privately wondered. She sighed and gave him her best polite smile reserved for Almost-Strangers. "Er, Michael. Of course. I should have remembered."

"No offence taken, Hermione." He flashed her a too-bright smile. "But perhaps you would allow me to take you out to dinner tonight? I'd like to catch-up, for old times' sake, you know."

Hermione stared, feeling vaguely flattered that she was being asked out for the first time in years. Of course, she would have been happier if it had been someone she actually liked. Didn't Ginny hex Corner in the process of dumping him back at Hogwarts?

Hermione sighed, well aware it would be rather rude to tell the man no after he had helped her. She glanced again at Michael, who preened under her inspection. Well, at least he's not ugly, and maybe I will have a good time. "Dinner is fine."

* * *

Hermione sat down across from Michael in Witching Hour, the latest restaurant to open in Diagon Alley and the first to keep the kitchen open throughout the night. Michael beamed at her, and hastily turned to the waiter and ordered two servings of chicken leek pie. Hermione bristled in her seat, certainly not a fan of the traditional wizard-orders-for-both, but had the good grace to refrain from arguing. After all, at least he hadn't made a poor choice in food, and it would be a simple matter to take revenge quietly without sacrificing her manners so…publicly. Merlin, but Draco is apparently a bad influence on me.

"So," Michael turned to her with what she supposed was meant to be a delightfully charming smile, "what has Gryffindor's finest witch been up to since Hogwarts?"

Gryffindor's finest? What happened to 'brightest witch of her age'? As far as compliments went, it was insulting in the implication that his House had ever beaten her academically (which they hadn't, of course), and anyone who knew her at all was well aware she detested such obvious, and completely impersonal, flirtation.

Hermione sighed, resisting the urge to cover her face with her hand. Today is no longer such a good day. "Well, Michael, I've recently been hired by New Age Potions for medical research."

"N.A.P.?" he asked, looking perplexed for a moment. "But surely you know the only respectable way to advance in healing is through St. Mungo's?" He smiled at her. "I am sure I could convince the head of the Potions Ward to give you an interview."

Hermione gritted her teeth and smiled sweetly. "Oh, but they did interview me. Twice, actually, but I refused the job both times. NAP is much more suited to my areas of research."

"But Hermione, dear, you simply won't get the proper recognition from such a new and unstable company."

Dear? Her eyebrow twitched. "We'll see, I suppose."

He gave her a pitying look, but was interrupted from saying anything else as their food arrived.

Hermione silently thanked the waitress for her good timing and bit into a slice of pie to avoid talking. To Hermione's delighted surprise, the pie was actually very tasty. For the next few minutes, the pair ate, talking about the latest developments to the Wolfsbane. Michael also revealed that he was studying to become a Healer, under his father's direction.

In the middle of sipping pumpkin juice, Hermione raised an eyebrow when Michael suddenly leapt to his feet, hand over his mouth and looking decidedly pale. Without a word, he bolted towards the restrooms. Her other eyebrow slowly rose to join the first.

Five minutes later found Hermione sitting alone at her table, savouring the last of her drink.

Ten minutes after that, Hermione sat, still facing the empty chair, fingers drumming against the tabletop. She wondered if she should check on him.

Twenty minutes after Michael had deserted the scene, Hermione called over a waiter and asked him to check on her friend in the male restroom. The waiter returned promptly, informing the witch that Mr Corner would regretfully have to cancel their date for tonight but he would owl her soon.

To Hermione's secret relief, no owl from Michael Corner ever did appear.

* * *

Hermione tilted her wine glass to her lips, taking a delicate sip. Over the rim, she eyed her date for tonight. Colin Creevey, now a reporter for the Daily Prophet, had sought her out, ostensibly to get the latest news about NAP's experimental potions. Privately, Hermione was beginning to suspect that the young man had a crush on her, considering the way he kept stuttering and sliding his hand along the table towards her own. Speaking of which… she moved her hand back an inch; the resulting despondent look on his face made her feel like she'd just kicked a puppy.

"So, Colin," she said, "I heard you got a promotion. Congratulations!" She smiled at him, pleased that a fellow Gryffindor was getting somewhere in life.

Colin, so surprised by the sudden smile and praise, promptly slopped wine down his front. Blushing, the young wizard hurriedly waved his wand at his torso. And leapt to his feet in a panic when his admittedly shaky Scourgify somehow caused flames to erupt on his robes instead.

Hermione gaped, then recovered her senses and dug in her robes for her wand, casting a hasty jet of water over Colin. By the end of the fiasco, the enterprising journalist looked thoroughly miserable and quite scorched, and two waiters hovered nearby anxiously, advising medical help. Hermione eyed the burns on his chest for a moment. She stood up, offering her arm. "Here. They're right. I'd better apparate you to St. Mungo's to get those burns treated."

Twenty minutes later, Hermione apparated into her apartment, still in disbelief at how in Merlin's name Colin had managed to bungle a simple Scourgify spell so badly he hexed his robes alight.

Well. So much for that date.

A few days later, with no sign of Colin for a make-up interview, Hermione began to think that perhaps she had been imagining things after all, and that Colin hadn't been interested in her. But he had seemed so keen to get the 'scoop' on NAP's latest projects and had asked to interview her specifically…

Rudely, Crookshanks head-butted her calves and meowed demandingly, eyeing the unopened tuna tin in her hands. Hermione smiled down at her grumpy familiar, effectively distracted from wondering about Colin's mysterious silence.

* * *

Curled up in the armchair closest to the fire, Hermione was watching You've Got Mail for the second time that month.

"Eugh, Granger, why are you here polluting my… tee-vay – "

" – Tee-vee –"

" – with that awful 'chick flock'?" Draco sneered at the couple embracing in the park on the TV, looking decidedly repulsed.

She smiled. "It's not that bad, Malfoy."

"You're right. It's downright appalling."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Trust a Malfoy to have no appreciation for the finer emotions in life."

He waggled his eyebrows at her, suddenly amused. "Malfoys have plenty of appreciation for lust, my dear, and that is a fine art indeed."

Hermione turned away before the blond man could catch her lips twitching up into a reluctant smile at his antics. She was saved from having to retort by Blaise wandering out of the kitchen to announce that dinner was ready.

Blaise cocked an eyebrow at her. "You are of course staying for dinner, love?" He held his hand out to her.

"I guess I am," she said, smiling and letting him propel her to her feet.

They followed Draco into the dining room, and Blaise settled her in her usual seat at the square four-person table, Draco to her left and Blaise opposite the blond.

Hermione breathed in the lovely aroma rising from the perfectly seasoned salmon steak nestled on garlic mash on her plate. Blaise can definitely cook, she mused thoughtfully, eyeing the attractive Italian man.

"How is your research going?" Blaise asked her between bites.

"We think we know why the potion keeps failing in the final stage of brewing, it's just a matter of testing which components are responsible for the instability."

Draco snorted. "Didn't you check the R.O. first?"

Hermione shot him a nasty look. "Of course we take that into consideration, and we used Arithmancy equations to predict the likely results, but something was still going wrong."

Blaise was nodding thoughtfully, clearly trying to work out the problem in his head, and Draco looked reluctantly interested.

"You see… we thought that maybe we might have stumbled onto a new combination of ingredients that were never explored when they formulated the R.O. We are entering completely new territory with this branch of Potion Healing."

"By 'we' you mean you came up with that deduction," Draco drawled, eyes narrowed.

"Well, I… maybe," Hermione muttered.

Draco rolled his eyes at her. "Granger, take the credit when it's due. You don't want someone else getting recognition for your work, do you?" His accompanying sneer said, Little fool.

Hermione scowled. "Of course not. But Terry and Susan are hardly going to do that, and besides, it's only an idea."

Draco snorted, but a warning kick under the table from Blaise prompted him to keep his mouth shut.

The potential argument averted, the three enjoyed their meal amidst friendly conversation. And if Hermione eyed the possessive touches and occasional glances shared between her two friends a little too avidly, no one mentioned it.

TBC