A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you as always for the continued support and lovely comments. I really, really appreciate it!
It was a Herculean effort for Hermione to let herself back into the room as quietly as she could manage. She wanted to squeal, but that would wake the whole room and force her to share the news, which, while she knew that it would be met with absolute delight, she wasn't exactly ready to do. Yet.
Because after all, it was just a distant promise. If only Lucius' trial would wrap up, she thought, before shaking the thought out of her head. Rushing the process of justice for the end result of going on a date with the accused's son was so selfish. He deserved a fair trial and reasonable sentence, as long as it took. But also, she really wanted Draco back.
The door clicked shut behind her. Her heart hammered in her chest.
"Hmm?" Ron muttered, as one eye cracked open. "Blimey!" he exclaimed louder, sitting up. Dennis stirred next to him.
Hermione held a finger to her lips as she crept back into her bed.
"Where'd you go?" Ron whispered as Dennis yawned, looking confused in his surroundings.
"Just go back to sleep," Hermione whispered, avoiding the question, as Dennis nodded his head.
"See ya later," he murmured, letting himself out of the room and turning back down towards his own bed.
Ron eyed her curiously. "Do you need another potion?"
Hermione shook her head. In the summer, when they were still together and she was having nightmares every night, she used to sneak out of their shared bed in the Burrow and sit downstairs with a cup of tea until she thought she could sleep again. It had been so hard, she remembered now, trying not to wake him when he was struggling with his sleep too. "I'm alright. I'm going to lay down again."
He didn't need to know about Draco, she thought, not now. Not when he was acting as her guard, without her having asked for it. He was trying, she realized, as he glanced back at the door. But there was no lingering shadow, so he crossed his arms back over his chest as his eyes fluttered shut. Hermione smiled at the sight.
"Mmm," Ginny sighed, throwing an arm over Hermione as she eased back under the cover. "I missed you."
Hermione held in her giggle, while wondering if Ginny knew she was not, in fact, Harry. But her heart was still hammering in her chest, and she couldn't will her eyes to stay shut. She felt electric, buzzing with the possibility.
And surely enough, Ginny could feel it. One eye popped open as she asked, "Are you okay?"
Hermione nodded, glancing over at Ron, whose soft snoring started up again. But Ginny was waking up, shifting under the covers and propping herself up on an elbow.
As quiet as she could manage, barely an exhale, Hermione whispered, "Draco was in the hall."
Ginny's jaw dropped. "What? Here?"
"Shh! Yes, here, outside," Hermione whispered, trying to be even quieter as she glanced back towards Ron.
Ginny shook her head, suddenly she was wide awake, eyes alert and smile growing by the second. "Why? Hermione, what's going on?"
Hermione sighed. "Really Gin, it can wait –"
"No," Ginny said at full volume, despite Hermione's shushing. "Tell me now."
Hermione sighed. "Fine. But don't make a big deal of it…he, well, he asked me out."
Ginny gasped sharply and sat up.
"Oi," Ron grunted. "Can't it bloody wait?"
Ginny sighed and threw a pillow at Ron, the whomp and subsequent yelp caused Blaise and Daphne to stir.
"No it cannot wait," Ginny hissed, staring at Hermione, "Details now!"
"What's this now?" Blaise asked, his voice thick with exhaustion.
Daphne sat up and stretched. "It's so early!"
"Well no one asked you lot to sleep over," Ginny quipped. Hermione laughed, playing with the sheets between her fingers and feeling the pressure in the room to share the news rise.
"Well your brother's a shit bouncer," Blaise teased.
Ron wrapped his arms around the pillow, resting his chin on it. "Alright what's so bloody important it can't wait til sunrise?"
"The sun is up, you dolt," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "And beyond the fact that you were meant to be up, keeping a watch, Hermione has some news."
"News?" asked Daphne, standing up from the couch with Blaise and stretching, before she took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Is everything okay?"
Hermione nodded her head, as the sunshine started to pour out of her again. She smiled, "Well, I woke up and I saw a shadow lurking outside the door so I went to check it out."
Ron glanced back over his shoulder.
"But it was just Draco. Lurking and I guess also keeping watch? I dunno."
A smile grew on Daphne's face as Hermione glanced around the room.
"Well at least someone was," Blaise said, tossing another pillow at Ron.
"Shut it!" commanded Ginny.
Hermione continued, "Right, well, he apologized. Said he'd been acting a fool and was sorry."
"About time," Daphne said, with a flip of her hair. "And?"
Hermione nodded her head, the grin taking up her whole face. "Then he asked me to dinner!"
"What?" asked Blaise and Ron in unison.
"Oh my Merlin!" Daphne squealed, launching herself forward on the bedspread to shake Hermione's knees. "This is the best news ever! How'd he ask? When are you going? Can I do your hair?"
"Did you say yes?" Ron asked.
"Of bloody course she said yes," Ginny snapped. "Right? Please Merlin tell me you said yes."
Hermione laughed through the overlapping chatter, "Yes! Of course I did." Then, to Daphne, "It'll be after the trial. It's just too much right now."
Blaise scoffed. "I'd make the time, if I were him."
"Yes, but you know Draco," Daphne defended, while rolling her eyes.
"So you're going to, like, date Malfoy then?" Ron asked. His arms were crossed around both pillows now, and he was frowning.
Hermione's forehead creased. She really hadn't wanted Ron to be here for this, for this exact reason. She didn't need his blessing to do as she liked, but she also understood. It was weird to see him out on dates with other women. If he had started dating Pansy Parkinson, she really wouldn't have liked, or understood, it either.
But Ginny rescued her of any attempt to appeal to him, as she cocked her arm with another pillow and groaned. "Give me a break, can't you just be happy she's happy?"
Ron might've said something, but it was lost as the pillow hit him again in the face, and he instead murmured something about Ginny's arm. Hermione buried her face in her hands, Ginny was right at least, she thought, she was so absolutely happy.
Not even Ron's surliness could break her mood, and after a few more moments of gushing, Daphne and Blaise retreated from her room and Ron moved over to the couch. It was still so early, and everyone wanted more sleep. But not Hermione. She was full of vigor, and itching to start the day, to pass the hours, or days, hopefully not weeks, between now and when she next saw Draco.
So once Ginny and Ron had dozed off again, she changed and let herself out into the hall to lace up her trainers.
Running found her again as the release she didn't know she needed. The past few weeks had been long and grueling. Between the Dreamless Draughts when Aubrey knocked one too many memories loose and catching up on the coursework she'd been neglecting, Hermione had hardly had time to herself.
But now, as she wove through the familiar streets, though her lungs strained and she was undoubtedly slower than she had been before this all started, she felt as light as air. A feeling that had escaped her since she volunteered to testify.
When the sun broke through the clouds and Hermione realized she'd been running a while, she turned back towards Hog's Head. By this time, the papers were delivered to the newsstands and Blaise had been proven right.
She was on the frontpage. Not just of The Daily Prophet, but of every newspaper. Different pulled quotes screamed out at her in large, bold type, but it was her face in each one. She didn't slow down to read them, nor buy the papers. There'd be time for all of that later, she reasoned.
Hermione was on such a high that she hardly registered the slight disappointment when Draco wasn't waiting outside for her. He'd be back before she knew it, she told herself, before going upstairs to change.
She ran a bath and slipped easily into Shell Cottage. The testimony had only knocked the potions closet over, and though it wasn't easy to soak up the liquids and rebottle them, she'd had a fair amount of practice over the past few weeks.
It was significantly easier knowing that she had a brand new memory of Draco's smile she could get lost in as a reward.
When she got out of the bath, the Weasleys were finally awake, and the sounds of whispered bickering only stopped when Hermione emerged, fresh faced and clear minded.
"Alright then?" asked Ginny.
Hermione nodded. "Thank you both for staying the night." Then, turning to Ron, "And I'm sorry, if my feelings for Draco make you uncomfortable, I –"
Ron held up a hand. "We really don't need to talk about it. I'll get over it, just give me some time. But I do have to get back to the team, I trust you're alright?"
Hermione insisted she was as he hugged her tightly and whispered goodbye before slipping out the door.
"He will be, I think," said Ginny, scrunching her nose as she played with two pieces of parchment. "These came for you, while you were in there."
Ginny then followed her brother with a hug and a kiss on the her forehead as she passed the two small scrolls of parchment.
The first one was from Harry, Hermione realized, recognizing his seal as she broke it open.
Hermione – You were brilliant. I read all about it this morning. Sorry I wasn't able to join the party, but Ginny called not just a moment ago. Great news all around. Chatter here says they're wrapping up tomorrow. No news on the Devourers at the moment, but that's good news as well!
xx HP
She smiled. Of course Ginny had ran to the Floo to call Harry the moment she had the chance. It was better that he knew, she thought. He could help handle Ron as well. It also put her at ease to know that Harry had no issue with her feelings and entanglement with the Malfoy family.
The second letter was more surprising.
Ms. Hermione Granger,
It was my honor to speak, if we can call it that, with you yesterday on the stand. I apologize for pushing into your memories of that night. I hope you can understand that it was nothing personal, as callous as it may appear. Aubrey assures me you're far more formidable than to be pushed around by the likes of me, yet still, it brings me no joy to reopen old wounds. Your conviction for the moral high ground and making sense of Mr. Malfoy's actions and motivations are admirable.
I'm also writing to inform you that Mr. Malfoy's case is the last one I'll be prosecuting, as I'm leaving my position at its conclusion to accept the position of Head Auror. If you should like, upon your graduation, it would be an honor to have you within the Ministry.
Your friends Kingsley and Harry have many good things to say about you. As I saw clearly and truly yesterday as well. I look forward to my new position, and should you consider a future in law enforcement, please know you have an ally in me.
Sincerely,
Cecilia Jennings
Hermione read the letter twice over. Cecilia?! The way Aubrey talked about Jennings, it was as if her first name were some elaborate state secret. But here it was, in the same tidy scrawl that revealed far more than just compliments towards Hermione.
Of course it made sense that Jennings had consulted Kingsley and Harry regarding Lucius' trial. Though neither were witnesses, they'd both fought against Lucius. Whatever they had said, about her, or about him, it had undoubtedly impacted her cross examination. Everything Aubrey had prepared her with was far worse than Jennings' actual cross examination.
Hermione wondered if perhaps what she'd learned was part of why she was leaving the position? Or else how long it had been in the works prior to her testimony?
Head Auror was a serious position, Hermione knew. Kingsley had served there for some time before the war, and Harry no doubt was on his way. But those two, specifically, who knew just about everything that Hermione herself knew about the war. Of course they would have supported her, not allowed Jennings to destroy her credibility on the stand.
Perhaps she should have checked with them before offering her services to the Malfoys? Hermione shook her head. No, she didn't want to play the Ministry's games. Unless… unless Jennings was serious about trying to recruit Hermione into the Auror Office.
She'd never really considered being an Auror before. The previous head had tried to recruit her, at the same time as Harry, and Ron, at the time. But Hermione hadn't been ready for a career decision yet. And while it made sense for Harry, the Boy Who Lived and then Lived Again, and also Killed Voldemort while he was at it…Hermione wasn't sure.
Though now, he seemed to love it. And it kept him well enough connected to keep a finger on the pulse of the criminal circles still operating around London to feel safe.
She would think about it, she decided. And definitely talk to Lorena about it this week. But as hard as she tried to ignore it, it nagged at her mind, being yet another reminder that now that her role in the trial was wrapped up, she could go back to being a normal student. One who still had no bloody idea how she wanted to spend her time after graduating.
"You're putting too much pressure on yourself," Lorena interjected, when she shared these feelings with her in their session a few days later. "You just finished an intense preparation for Lucius' trial and already you're back to grinding yourself to have answers to a question you've only just started to ask."
Hermione sighed, Lorena was right. But Hermione's patience was worn thin.
"Did you see the news of his sentence?" Lorena asked, glancing down at her notepad.
Hermione nodded. Lucius had received thirty years in Azkaban for everything. It was a remarkable difference from the initial three lifetimes that the prosecution was after. In three decades he might be elderly, but he would walk free. When she'd seen the papers this morning, she was taken aback. Her testimony was attributed with swaying many on the Wizengamot that it was time to find redemption in society, a way back that existed beyond locking everyone associated with Voldemort up.
She wasn't necessarily surprised, but it wasn't lost on her that Ginny had skipped breakfast altogether. Was thirty years an adequate sentence for everything Lucius Malfoy had done?
Hermione wasn't sure.
"How does it make you feel?" asked Lorena instead.
As if that was any clearer, Hermione thought to herself, remembering the way her shoulders tensed when she saw him in the courtroom. What would she do if she'd seen him on the street, or in the halls of the Manor? She didn't feel unsafe, but she felt no more at ease knowing he was behind bars.
"I don't feel any different," Hermione admitted. "I'm glad it's a more reasonable sentence, and I suppose I do believe that he'll be a different man when he's released. But, there's a valid case in opposition."
Lorena nodded, "Do you agree with those who support it?"
Hermione shook her head. The opposers were mostly people who didn't fight in the war. Because the common truth shared by everyone who was in battle was the same. Everyone did unthinkable things. Everyone caused pain, or sought to cause pain.
"I stand by everything I said."
At that, Lorena smiled. "That's all that matters."
Justice was a messy thing.
"Can I ask…" Hermione started. "What do you make of it all?"
Lorena put down her notepad and picked up the cup of tea she'd brewed at the start of the hour. WIth a quick charm it was steaming again and she took a sip before answering. "Truthfully, and know that this is not my professional opinion, strictly my personal, and only because you asked…" she smiled at Hermione then, as if letting her in on a small secret. "I feel relieved. I'm not in the business of punishment, and I've never understood anything greater than a single life sentence. But mostly, and dare I say selfishly, since I wasn't here for the war, I'm relieved that you're at peace with the situation. With his actions and with your testimony."
Hermione chewed on her cheek. It was a relief, as strange as it felt to call it as such.
"Have you talked to Narcissa or Draco yet?"
Hermione glanced at the clock. The hour was nearly up. She'd been very careful to not explicitly bring Draco up, but now, from the even tone with which Lorena asked she couldn't discern if she had any idea of what had happened between the two.
Which is to say, she tried for half a second to keep the smile off of her face, but it was hopeless. She came into sessions with her walls down and an open mind and at his name, the owl she'd received that morning from the Manor sprung to mind. 7pm tonight? x
"Not since the sentencing, but, well, Draco he–he asked me out. On a date. Tonight."
If Lorena was surprised, she didn't show it, Hermione realized as she felt a blush rise up on her cheeks as she continued her word vomit. "I wasn't all that sure if we were allowed to tell you that since you're working with the both of us, and I'm sorry if that puts you in a strange position, but I'm really excited and I was so surprised, well not really surprised since he's been acting so strange for so –"
"Hermione!"
"Yes?"
"That's excellent news. You don't have to worry about my work with Draco. If you're uncomfortable, we can certainly have a conversation about accommodating –"
"No! Please. No."
"-well then." Lorena said, standing up. "I look forward to hearing how it all goes."
Hermione grinned as she grabbed her bag and made her way to the door. Her heart fluttered as it opened, revealing exactly the man that brought a blush to her cheeks in the first place on the other side of the door.
"Hi," said Draco, smiling wide when he saw her. He looked at ease and like he finally had a decent night of sleep. It was almost strange, Hermione realized, seeing him in his school robes after seeing him around the Manor or in court for weeks now.
"Hi."
"Alright you two. Let's go Mr. Malfoy," Lorena called. Draco winked at Hermione as he followed Lorena inside, leaving Hermione nearly bursting with excitement.
All of her excitement collapsed just a few hours later, as she struggled with the charm on her hair and ransacked her closet. She'd had days to prepare, to go shopping, yet she had no bloody idea what to wear on a date with Draco Malfoy!
So at six, she found herself pounding on Daphne's door.
"I need your help!" she cried as Daphne opened it. Her hair was unusually out of place as she held her sweater tightly around her body. "Oh!" Hermione gasped. "I'm interrupting!"
"No – it's fine, come in," she said, buttoning the sweater and smoothing her hair. There was a groan from inside the room to which Daphne pressed her lips together as she scanned Hermione's outfit. "Right, okay, we can fix this."
Daphne yanked Hermione into the room where she found Blaise, lounging on Daphne's bed and pulling on a sweater of his own. "It's not what it looks like Granger," he warned with a devious smile that Hermione didn't even want to dig into. Not now at least.
She held up her hands in surrender. "I'm not asking."
"No, you're judging," he said, narrowing his eyes.
Hermione scoffed. "I'd never. I just want you both to be happy, and, er, satisfied."
Daphne laughed and spun Hermione into the seat by her dresser. "Blaise, go look in my closet for another shirt," she instructed as she pulled out her wand and began to sort Hermione's curls.
Blaise did as he was told and disappeared into the closet Hermione suspected was charmed to be much larger than it appeared. Soon, shirts began floating out, alongside dresses that ranged from formal to casual.
Hermione sighed as Daphne began work curling her hair. "I have no idea where we're even going! How am I supposed to know how to dress?!"
Daphne tutted, "Blaise! Typical of Draco to not give you a fair warning. Probably wants it to be a bloody romantic surprise."
Blaise emerged from the closet with a long, emerald silk dress with a slit running up the thigh. Hermione's eyes bulged when she saw it. There was no way she could wear such a thing.
"He's not going to set you up for embarrassment," Blaise said. "But right, yeah, I'll go ask."
He was out the door before Hermione could think twice.
"Thank you for all this," Hermione said softly once the door slammed shut behind her.
Daphne hummed, "Nothing this year has been as expected. But it's so much better."
Hermione nodded in agreement.
"Hold still," Daphne said.
It was remarkable how things had changed over a short few months, Hermione thought. She couldn't imagine allowing Daphne Greengrass of Year Six even to hold a wand to her head so carefully. Or Blaise Zabini from even just three months ago to run to ask Draco Malfoy something on her behalf. Nevermind the fact she was going on a date with Draco himself.
"You alright?" Daphne asked.
Hermione almost nodded, but caught herself before she risked burning herself on Daphne's heated wand. "So, you and Blaise then?"
It wasn't the craziest pairing Hermione had ever thought of. And certainly helped explain why Blaise had stopped openly hitting on her in the past few weeks.
Daphne snorted. "It's strictly physical. Friends with benefits or whatever."
Hermione eyed her in the mirror. "Is that right?"
"I'm helping him get over a crush and he's basically doing the same for me," she answered with a shrug.
Hermione frowned, "I'm sure anyone either of you set your mind after would fall over themselves to get the chance." But as she said it, a small bubble of awkward doubt bubbled up in her stomach. She was fishing now, and she only hoped that Daphne didn't have any sort of feelings for Draco. She doubted it, given their history and how excited Daphne was about their date. But still, the thought nagged at her still.
Daphne read it all, clearly across her face. "Oh gods, no it's not Draco that I like. No disrespect, but ew, he's like a brother to me."
"And Blaise isn't?"
Daphne shrugged. "But he's Blaise! He's been flirting with me since we were children. I'd obviously thought about it before, but he's got a wandering eye. Hopeless in a relationship."
Hermione stayed silent for a moment. So Daphne wasn't immune to his charm after all.
"He'll kill me for telling you this, but I think you're the only one that he's ever been serious about."
That was news to Hermione. "Me? There's no way!"
Daphne laughed. "He's so obsessed with you, surely you realized that he's been falling all over you this semester?"
"I didn't realize…" Hermione said, thinking all the way back to the first day of term when Blaise found her, kind eyes and trying to help her catch her breath. "I thought he was just being nice."
Her mind spun further and she closed her eyes as Daphne worked on the front of her hair. She rummaged quickly through the living room of Shell Cottage. Blaise was a terrible flirt, shooting a thousand winks at her in mixed company, but never when they were actually alone together. In her memories, there were also a thousand side eyes at Daphne, watching her and teasing her.
"Well sure, but my guess is he had other intentions before…well…he'd never stand in Draco's way."
Hermione heard Daphne, but she was still half submerged in her memories. Perhaps Blaise might've had his eye on Hermione at one point, but she doubted that he was ever so serious about it from the way he always found a reason to drape his arm over Daphne's shoulders. She tried for a moment to think of the two men discussing their feelings about her and nearly laughed at the image.
"Okay," Hermione said, eyes fluttering open. "If it's not Draco. And not Blaise."
Daphne pursed her lips together. "Time for makeup," she said, summoning Hermione's kit from her room and leaning in with a brush.
Hermione obliged, closing her eyes and it was only then, armed with eyeliner against her lid so that Hermione could not react for fear of messing up Daphne's hard work, she whispered, "It's Dennis. Don't move. Don't tell a soul."
Hermione obeyed as she tried to quell the growing grin on her face.
When Daphne backed away, Hermione opened her mouth, ready to ask for more, when Blaise burst back into the room. "He's made a reservation!" he announced, slightly breathless. "Some Muggle restaurant out in Hampstead. I've never heard of it, but I know just the thing."
He sprinted into the closet leaving Hermione's mind reeling. He picked a Muggle restaurant? In Hampstead? Even she didn't know places to go in Hampstead.
"Oh yes," Daphne exclaimed, as Blaise came out of the closet holding a baby pink blouse with a plunging neckline and flounced sleeves. "That's perfect."
Blaise covered his eyes while she changed and Daphne glamoured her bra where the straps showed. It fit Hermione perfectly and matched the jeans she was already wearing.
When she was finished, Daphne scoffed, "Do me a favor and keep that top. It's never looked that good on me."
Looking in the mirror, Hermione could have cried. It was simple yet chic and Daphne did a fabulous job as always on her hair and make up. It was all so perfect.
"Are you alright?" Blaise asked, having opened his eyes to see the final result.
Hermione nodded, but there was a small pit growing in her stomach. It was a wonderful gesture from Draco, truly, but still it made Hermione's head swim with how little she actually knew about him. A date, a dinner, would surely fix this but it felt…well…it felt strange.
"I grew up in Hampstead," Hermione said softly.
"Oh," Daphne said softly. "Blaise, mind giving us a moment?"
He nodded and left without a word of protest.
Hermione sighed, "It's just all so strange, isn't it? I know there's been so much going on with his father and the trial. But what's a few conversations and a dance at a party when I know his mother wanted him to ask me out. And now Hampstead? I highly doubt it's a coincidence but I just don't get it!"
"He cares about you!"
Hermione knew that this much was at least true. He had her interests at heart when he took care of her and helped her learn to Occlude, but their circumstances were undeniable. She felt small pinpricks of tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. Despite everything they went through in the past week, the reality of the issue began to clarify as her fingers trailed up under her sleeve to trace her scar.
"Yes, but he's a Malfoy," she said. Because unless this was part of some grand plan of Narcissa's, she knew that Lucius would never approve of her, even if he claimed to owe her a debt from his cell in Azkaban for the next thirty years. Half the wizarding world hated her with a vengeance right now. "What if this only makes things worse?"
Daphne surged forward to blot the tears brimming in her eyes. "Hermione, love, you can't think like that. Like you said before, whatever is going on between you and Draco is no one's business but your own. Whether it works out or not, you're not some ambassador for the future of pureblood relations. You're allowed to go out with the guy you like and not worry about upsetting the equilibrium of society."
"You don't think this is some grand plan by Narcissa?" she asked, through a watery sniffle.
At this Daphne laughed. "I don't. And I'm sorry if I ever made you think she's that manipulative. I really think she likes you. And Draco would never let her use you like this. He probably hates how much she approves of you two together. But she always has his best interests at heart, and he's head over heels for you. We can all see that."
Hermione sighed as the knot in her chest began to unfold. "I'm losing my mind over one date!"
"It just means you care! That's not a bad thing." Daphne blotted her eyes again. "But you need to stop crying."
Hermione obliged and took a deep breath. She couldn't imagine anyone but Daphne in the room with her right now. Not Harry, not Ron, not even Ginny really. "Thank you Daph, seriously."
Daphne shook her head. "Slytherin boys are a basket case, I know. So I expect a full rundown when you're back!"
And with that, Daphne pushed her out into the hall where Blaise was waiting just outside.
"Alright?" he asked. "Or did Daphne convince you to run for the hills?"
Hermione smiled and shook her head. "I'm okay. She told me Slytherin boys are impossible and I'm doing as best as can be expected."
Blaise snorted. "That might be true."
"And you?" Hermione asked, Daphne's words looming over her head. "Are you alright?"
There was no mistaking the way his eyes trailed over her body as they worked their way up to hers. "Yeah," he said with a smile. "I'm alright. Have fun tonight, yeah?"
His voice sounded more melancholy than she'd heard it before. She wondered if he overheard her outburst, or if Daphne's hypothesis held any water.
"I'll kill the both of you if you hurt each other," said Blaise suddenly. He pointed at his temple. "It's a mess up here, but that much I know."
"I think we can manage one dinner."
A smile betrayed his sullen mood, "First of many, if he doesn't manage to blow it all up." He was grinning now, and shaking his head. "Granger, you look amazing tonight. Now get out of here!"
"Thanks Blaise," said Hermione. It was everything she wanted to hear, that he didn't resent them as they went out tonight. "Are you not going back in?"
Blaise had spun on his heel and started off towards his own room. His sweater was on backwards, Hermione noticed, as he grinned over his shoulder, eyes gleaming wickedly as he shook his head. "Absolutely not. Can't have her thinking I'm too keen, can I?"
Hermione shook her head. Slytherin boys really were a basket case, she decided, before heading back to her room to try to meditate before Draco was due.
When that inevitably failed, with thoughts and worries flitting around her mind like pixies, she set about tidying up Shell Cottage. She turned over the conversation with Daphne and stored it behind a mirror. It was a plain concern, hardly a secret, she reasoned, to worry if she'd ever be fully accepted into wizarding society. But she didn't exactly want to deal with that going into tonight.
She rummaged through her photo albums of Blaise and came not a single step closer to discovering who, if anyone, Blaise actually, truly, fancied. She slammed it shut as a knock sounded at her door. Trying to pin the man down was a hopeless act.
As she walked to the door, one final pixie-like thought slammed against the roof of the cottage. What if they had nothing to talk about? Hermione took a deep breath. Of course, that was just her nerves, flitting about like that.
She opened the door to see Draco dressed in dark pants and a long, sport jacket. He had a white dress shirt underneath. It was strange, she thought, as a smile began to form, seeing him in clothes that were so very…Muggle! A familiar grin grew across his face as he took in her outfit, pausing at the blouse for a second long enough for Hermione to blush.
"Ready?" he asked, extending an arm.
Hermione nodded and took his arm, thrilled to see that his eyes were clear, and not hidden away behind a shroud of Occlumency.
"So where are we going?" she asked, with an air of curiosity, as if she didn't already know.
Draco scoffed, "Blaise is a horrible double-agent. And he's loyal to me."
"Are you quite sure about that?" Hermione teased.
Draco shook his head.
"How are we getting there then? Isn't it a bit far to Apparate?"
To that, he smiled, "Oh, er, I arranged a Portkey."
"Naturally," Hermione said, with a roll of her eyes. She wasn't sure that she'd ever get used to the generally elaborate and extravagance with which he and the others lived.
"Does that bother you? We could probably do it in two if that's better? I was just thinking if we're drinking…"
Hermione shook her head, a Portkey was the better choice. "It doesn't bother me, per say, I'm just not sure if I'll ever get used to your life," she said as he led her into the back room behind the bar where a lone mug rested on a table.
The mug started to rattle in front of them and Draco closed his hand around hers, gripping onto the handle. "Well, you could be," he said with a smile. "If you want."
The butterflies that exploded into her stomach were compressed and stretched through time and space as the Portkey threw them down in a back alley. Hermione leaned against the stone wall and shook off the horrible sensation as Draco extended an arm towards her.
She accepted it, and as he led her out of the alley, she was glad for a second time that she had something to hold onto as they stepped out onto the street where she grew up.
"Oh," Hermione exhaled softly. A wave of disbelief crashed on the beach, almost battering Shell Cottage itself. She'd been so preoccupied with the date with Draco, she'd nearly forgotten she hadn't been to Hampstead since she left.
"Your parents moved away, didn't they?" Draco asked, innocently as they turned onto the street. "Sorry, I suppose I should have given you more warning that we were coming here. It felt like a nice idea, if you hadn't been back or if you wanted to see them. Not that, er, not that you'd want to introduce me or –"
"No," Hermione laughed, saving him from his running tongue. "They did move away. You're right."
He didn't need to know how far, and under what circumstances. At some point, she knew she'd have to deal with that locked room in her mind. But not tonight.
"Just a shock to be back is all," she said, pulling at his arm so they continued walking down the street. "Thank you for bringing me here."
They fell into a comfortable silence as Draco navigated them onto the main shopping street.
"It's just two blocks," Draco said, double checking a piece of parchment in his pocket.
"Is that a map?" Hermione asked, craning her neck.
"Oi, I got it!"
"So that's a wizard thing too then?"
Draco looked at her confused, and Hermione filled the rest of the walk telling Draco about the tendency Muggle men had to refuse help with navigating, even when they were clearly lost.
Draco just scoffed when they arrived at the restaurant. "My mum leads us everywhere," he said. "And look, we weren't even lost. I'm just trying to surprise you!"
Hermione shook her head as he held open the door for her. To say she was surprised about tonight was such an understatement.
The restaurant was small, yet bustling for a weeknight. It had a warm glow of candles illuminating dark wallpaper and gold accents nearly everywhere she looked, while smells of spices and meats cooking wafted through the air.
The host led them to a table in the back corner table where Draco held out a chair for Hermione before he slid into one of his own. She wasn't sure if it was intentional, that they both had seats with their backs to the wall, but Hermione appreciated it nonetheless. She had been slightly uneasy about walking arm in arm with Draco so openly, but Muggle London would be far more welcoming to them than Hogsmeade at present.
She also generally hated leaving herself exposed, and wasn't surprised that Draco felt the same. It was nice, she thought, accepting the menu from the host, to have someone understand her without having to explain herself.
"Is this your first time in a Muggle restaurant?" she asked, curiously, after their waiter had introduced himself and poured them water. It had been so long since she'd been in a proper restaurant, one that didn't use magic to fold napkins and clear plates. It must seem so fussy, she thought.
Draco laughed at that, which piqued her interest, as he shook his head. "No, I spent a good deal of the summer eating at a pub that was just on the corner of the flat I was staying in."
That was not what Hermione was expecting. It was her turn to laugh, "I'm sorry!" she cried. "I just can't imagine you in a proper pub!"
Draco nodded over his menu. "You know I was sentenced to community service?"
"I think I read that was the case," Hermione said, frowning. The papers had been so scarce about any trace of him. She was sure she knew about the service…but that it was so deeply in Muggle London? It felt strange suddenly, how little she knew. "But you never talk about it."
"Intentionally," he said with a laugh. "It's all thanks to my mother really. She persuaded my case worker, Lorena, actually, that I needed to get out of wizarding society and give back where I'd done the most harm."
"Lorena was your case worker?"
Draco shook his head. "I only found out she was coming to Hogwarts a few weeks before the summer was over. And yes, I suspect my mother's involvement there as well. Though I can't prove it, yet."
Hermione stifled a laugh as their server came over, and Draco ordered a bottle of wine. "If that's okay?"
She nodded. The server thanked them, and once he'd left, Draco continued, "Well, I ended up working in Tottenham mostly – Go Spurs, you know? – but a couple of the –"
"Wait," Hermione interrupted. "You watch football now?"
Draco laughed. "I didn't have a bloody choice! Merlin, you should have seen the way the crew talked about it all. I get it now, of course, it's like Quidditch but harder, but –"
"Harder? Than chasing balls on a broom?"
Draco stared at her. "They use their feet, Hermione! And the goal is way too big for the keeper."
Hermione shook her head at him. They hadn't even ordered yet, and her entire perception of him had shifted all over again.
"Okay," she said, as the server returned and uncorked the bottle. She couldn't keep the furrowed brow nor the bemused smile off her face as Draco sampled the wine. She needed the server to leave so they could speak freely again.
But first, they ordered, and then Draco held his glass up to hers.
"So what did –" she started, but he cut her off, "First a toast."
When had Draco become so…sweet?
"Thank you for all your support these past few weeks," he said, clinking his glass against hers. "And beyond saving my father from three lifetimes of imprisonment, I really want to thank you for giving me another shot."
Hermione rolled her eyes and drank from her glass. The wine was robust and strong and she knew it would go to her head if their food didn't come quickly.
"You would have loved to see it," Draco said, finally resuming his story. "I looked like a proper prat, not knowing how football worked, or basic restaurants, and don't get me started on cars."
Hermione laughed. The rumors she'd heard over the summer had ranged from his service was home-bound, or he'd be taken out daily from Azkaban, to that he never reported in and was instead traipsing through Greece or Morocco. The truth was so much stranger, that he'd been renting a flat in Tottenham, drinking with the locals, and learning to drive. Even she didn't know how to drive!
"I know," he laughed, as their food came. They had ordered a bunch of small plates to sample and share, and their server had come over with plates stacked precariously up his arms and on top of one another. "It was the strangest few months of my life. Learning construction, actually building a house from scratch, without magic. But I had a flat to myself and no one knew my name or what I'd done. I loved it."
Once their server left, Draco leaned in, "It's just so impressive! Did you see what he did? And without magic!"
Hermione swooned. Really, beyond the fact he challenged every preconceived notion she'd had of him and his family, he looked so excited. Like a small child watching a magic act, or not unlike herself watching real magic when they were younger. She let her knee brush his under the table and caught the edge of his smile when he felt it.
"I'm glad you had such a good experience," she said. "And it sounds like your mother might have been right to organize it all."
He nodded, taking a large bite of food, and swallowing. "I don't know if it's appropriate to apologize to you for everything that I said to you over the years on a date. Or for – what was it – the centuries of hatred the Malfoy family has done everything in our power to uphold? But I am incredibly sorry."
Hermione reached over and took his hand in hers. "Thank you. And I'm sorry for all the horrible, but-at-the-time-true, things I've said about you over the years. And for punching you in the face."
Draco grinned and took another bite. "Apology accepted. Now, if Muggle Studies had covered football and the rivalries, I think we could end blood prejudices."
They went on like this for a while, brainstorming ways to make Muggle Studies and History of Magic more interesting than what they'd been offered, alongside sharing stories of their childhoods and experiences at Hogwarts. It was, all things considered, a perfectly flowing first date conversation, Hermione thought at one point, mentally caging the pixie with glee.
Until Draco took a sip of his wine and narrowed his eyes across the table, "And speaking of my mother, she refuses to tell me anything about your conversation prior to your decision to testify on my father's behalf, except that it was in no way about his case."
Hermione grimaced lightly, "Well, that much is true."
"Why?" he asked, exasperated. "Why did you go to her? I mean, I'm thrilled with how she's taken to you, but I work quite hard to keep her from nosing into every personal relationship I have."
Hermione pressed her lips together. "Well, it was somewhat twofold. I needed help with storing a few memories, not locking them up like before, but hiding."
Draco nodded. Of course he knew what she was talking about, as she'd seen him in the memories. "So she helped you bury them in the foundation?"
"More or less," she said, picking at her plate and trying not to recall her agony in the parlor when she thought about Narcissa helping bury her shoebox full of her angst and lust.
He looked at her quizzically. This was the trouble about being so open around him, she surmised, he could see right through her.
"She showed you her memories?!" his voice was clipped.
"Snippets really, of a few, but everything was a lesson. Just examples really."
Draco glowered at the candle in front of them and Hermione wondered if she'd made a mistake in being so honest with him. She thought back to Narcissa, telling her that he used to watch fire, to help him Occlude when he was younger, before anything. She wondered if he was going that now, and though she desperately wanted to reach out and grab his hand, she waited.
Finally, he looked up, "Okay."
"I'm sorry," Hermione said, instantly. "I won't break your mother's confidence but you above all should know that she'd never risk any secret that wasn't hers to share. I'm not a fraction of the Legilimens she is, and I completely understand that my visiting her made you uncomfortable. I should have asked you about your boundaries prior, but I was…" she stalled off and Draco lifted his head.
"You were what?"
Hermione sipped her wine and squared her shoulders. "In desperate need of some strategy to conceal some sensitive thoughts."
That got his interest, he leaned across the table. "Oh do tell, what kind of thoughts?"
Hermione shook her head. She would not get pulled into this game, not in public.
Draco laughed as the blush spread across her cheeks. "You went to my mother to hide your dirty thoughts!"
"I did not!"
"Well then, what was the other reason you went to her that day?"
Hermione remembered how devious she'd felt when she wrote the letter. She'd really had no idea what was about to come, she thought that somehow she would read Draco's feelings for her through Narcissa. She'd been a fool.
"Can't we change the topic?" Hermione pleaded.
Draco grinned. "Well, she's absolutely enamored by you. Even more so now that you helped with my father's trial."
"I admire her very much. And she's been so helpful. But," Hermione quickly added. "If my visiting her makes you uncomfortable, I can hold off. Or tell you."
Draco shook his head, "As if either of you would ever listen to me."
A/N: The date continues next week :)