The Uneventful Story
By: Snowflake Imp
Rated: R
Chapter 11
Disclaimer: You know what I hate? I totally hate it when people like, come up to me on the streets or email me, gushing and praising me all the time about how awesome I am for writing and creating Harry Potter. I mean, people please. Control yourselves. …also, I am full of shit. I own nothing.
Diary Entry No. 54, Vol. V
Remember when I may have mentioned, perhaps offhandedly, that my life was shit? It was a pretty brief remark, easily overlooked. Understandable, really.
Well, prepare to be amazed. For the first time, my life is actually not shit. It's not terribly in danger. It's not ridiculously stressed with academics. It's…..It's…..
Bizarre.
Confoundedly so. The 'wrinkle-your-brow-this-one's-a-tickler' kind of bizarre. Every time I stop to think about my current situation, I pause and I squint my eyes doubtfully, as if questioning reality. I ask, "Really? Really. This is what you're going for. This is the decision you're making. Really."
I thought the oddity of the Gala was a one-time thing, I really did. Maybe it was the atmosphere, with the food and the décor and costumes – it could compel a person do strange things.
But it followed me.
More specifically, Blaise Zabini followed me.
I mean, a girl can't complain, right? What a perfect equation he is. He's absobloodylutely gorgeous, he's sweet, he's thoughtful, he's charming, he's successful. He's -
I think he's interested in me.
ME.
Something about THIS part of the equation isn't adding up. Logically, it doesn't make sense. He's supposed to go for the legging, busty, sexy, gorgeous type with flowing, luscious locks of hair and a perfectly made-up face. You know, a Malfoy kind of girl.
Alright, I do have a lot of hair, if you want to be technical about it but that's not the point. The point is, his type isn't supposed to mingle with my type. I could be wrong, of course. This could all be some sort of silly, embarrassing misunderstanding. He could be, you know….friendly-like.
It's just that sometimes I catch him looking at me and I don't know if it's because of his amazing eyes, but I feel like they're burning me. And for the past two weeks, I've had four lunches, two dinners, two teas, and numerous conversations and encounters with him, either at the Ministry or on the streets. That can't all be coincidence, can it? But then again, it's not like he declared his everlasting love for me. And he has never even tried to lie and call me pretty, so maybe he just wants a friend.
In any case, whether he wants a friend or something more, I can't say I don't like his attentions. The only time I feel uncomfortable is when he just….looks at me. Puzzled-like. If it turns out that he does fancy me (even writing this makes me let out a little laugh), I think I'd feel very odd. He's just too……perfect.
I don't deserve that.
Regardless of whatever Hermione's feelings for Blaise were, there was definitely a small change in her step. She walked with more confidence, like she was finally being acknowledged. And perhaps with him being such a positive influence in her otherwise dreary existence (mostly her doing, she does admit), she seemed happier.
She even did something quite out of character.
She bought new shoes. Expensive, full-priced, Italian black pumps. They were ridiculously nice; the heel was skinny and high and the shoe had just the right amount of sexy pointyness.
Hermione's not one to really appreciate her body, but even she had to say, the shoes made her legs look astronomically great. She even wore her nice, crisp white Oxford shirt and knee-skimming chocolate pencil skirt underneath her standard Robes to go with the shoes.
Oh, she was scandalous.
"Seven long years….," she thought wistfully, enjoying the clicking sound her shoes were making on the tiles. "Seven years with those ugly shoes. I threw them into the bin along with last night's remains of supper. Whatever crazy thing shall I do next?"
So pleased was she about her footwear she actually didn't really care too much when her co-workers took no notice, although a few thought she looked a bit different today. She just hoped those important to her could appreciate her subtle change.
"Ron!" she sing-songed. "You'll never guess what I did yesterday!" When she didn't receive an answer, she shrugged and opened the door to break room she knew he was in.
"Oh, Bill! What a pleasant surprise!" Hermione gasped, laughing as he engulfed her in a tight bear hug.
"Cheers, Hermione!" he greeted with a large grin. "I haven't seen you since Christmas!"
Hermione smiled, patting down her hair. "How's the family?"
"Oh, rowdy bunch of ankle-biters! I don't know how Fleur deals with them without getting a strand of hair out of place," he said, grabbing Ron around the neck and roughing up his hair. As the two roughhoused, Hermione couldn't help but laugh. Though the scars on his face had healed somewhat over time, his face was still obviously damaged from the attack.
Before really seeing Fleur's character, Hermione worried for his mental well being. That kind of attack could destroy even the most confident man's self-esteem, not to mention drive a loving woman away. But she stood her grounds, against all of their expectations. Who knew such a haughty beauty could actually have such strong moral grounds? Over the years, just like with Lavender, Fleur constantly amazed Hermione. Truth be told, Hermione admired her greatly.
With the birth of not only twins but also now two other children, Bill and Fleur were always busy with one thing or another. If not attending another parent-teacher conference, then it was making sure the little one wasn't causing considerable damage to their modest home. If their home life was surprisingly uneventful, Bill had his hands full as Senior Curse-Breaker in London for Gringotts. Fleur, seeing as how she became pregnant almost right after the War ended, she never landed a job and chose to stay home to make sure her children were brought up right. Nowadays, when she found the time and the right cause, she would occasionally help out the Department of International Magical Cooperation, serving as a translator and advisor for the International Magical Office of Law.
As the three continued their light-hearted conversation, Hermione couldn't help but twitch and fidget so. She twisted her body a bit this way and that, purposefully walking back and forth, towards and away from the two brothers, hoping at least Ron would realize she had new shoes.
Childish, she knew. But by God, wasn't it glaringly apparent she had these new, obviously un-Hermione-like shoes on? She cleared her throat, interrupting Bill teasing Ron about his current dilemma over choosing between two girls.
"Yes?" Bill asked.
"Well, do you two notice anything different about me today?" Hermione asked, looking especially at Ron. Her smile was sharp. She twirled around, modeling.
"Oh bleedin' hell," Ron thought to himself. There was something he was supposed to have noticed ages ago and he had no clue what it was. He was going to cock this all up, he just knew it.
"Er, your….hair looks…smashing?" he ventured.
Hermione's eyes narrowed. Considering how thick her boy was, it should have been enough for him to notice she had let her hair down more lately. But this was old news. She wanted acknowledgment for the purchase of such obscenely decadent shoes. They weren't even on sale!
"Try again," she gritted out.
An awkward silence ensued. Ron loosened his collar. He had to guess correctly this time, or else he'd be in the doghouse for days. He shouldn't just throw anything out. Had to be educated and clever on this one.
Suddenly the door banged opened and a blur known as Malfoy rushed in, walking briskly past the trio without even a glace. His sights were on the coffee set on the table in the back. As he poured and stirred in his sugar, the silence grew even thicker.
Ron kept on shooting glances at Malfoy, hoping the man would have mercy for once in his life and jump in to say something, anything! to take the heat off him. Bill scratched his head, looking as though he was thinking hard but with an amused look on his face. Fleur pulled this on him many a time. Thankfully the one being interrogated wasn't him right now.
As Malfoy finished up he breezed past them but as a passing remark before exiting, he whistled. "Nice shoes, Granger."
The door closed behind him and Hermione threw up her arms with frustration, crying up in the air to no one in particular, "THANK you!" And with that, she left the room in a huff.
"Dammit!" Ron swore. He was going to kill Malfoy.
Bill just laughed.
A few hours later, during lunch hour, Ron couldn't find Hermione anywhere – not in the labs, not in her office. He figured she went out to lunch and continued on his way to Malfoy's office on Level 5. Let no one say that Draco Malfoy was just a rich boy that got by on looks; he worked harder than most of the people Ron knew. The man usually even worked through lunch, preferring to bring his food to his desk for maximum efficiency. Hell, even Hermione, the one he pegged as the most anally workaholic person alive, took most of her lunches outside.
As Ron neared Draco office, he heard the distinct, clear voice of his best friend. And she wasn't screaming. Instead, their tones suggested that they were engaged in….friendly chatter?
"….they are quite nice, aren't they? I was surprised at how comfortable they were."
"You've picked a very nice brand, look at the sheen on top of the leather – that's quality," Malfoy murmured.
Were they talking about….the shoes??
"D'you think the heel is solid enough? I've never really worn anything this high, I'm scared I'll be walking down the hall one day and it'll snap on me," Hermione lamented.
Ron heard Malfoy scoff. "Of course they'll hold. You just have to make sure you're walking properly so the weight is evenly distributed down the middle."
"Are you suggesting I have an improper gait?"
"Are you ever not on the defensive? Merlin's balls, Granger, I was only – "
It was around this point Ron made it to his office, entering with a perplexed look on his face. He was greeted with the sight of Draco sitting behind his desk, absentmindedly scratching a few figures on a worksheet while eating from a tray of various cubed cheeses and crackers. Hermione was sitting quite comfortably atop his desk facing the door, swinging her legs carefreely. Whenever one of her feet swung up, she paused a little to re-admire her purchase.
"Oh, hullo Ron," she greeted easily, wiggling her foot at him.
"Yes yes, I see them, they're very nice," he grumbled, flushing. How was he supposed to know they were new and such a big deal?
"Good of you to pop by, Weasley," Draco said, looking up from his sheets. Hermione tried to sneakily pinch a cube of cheddar. Malfoy distractedly slapped her hand while opening his desk drawer. She tossed him a frown from over her shoulder and shook her hand to alleviate the sting.
Malfoy tossed some sort of letter to Ron, who expertly caught it between his index and middle fingers. "What's this?" Ron asked, flipping it over.
"You tell me," Draco responded, raising an eyebrow. "Care to tell me why such a crudely hexed invitation written on classic Weasley stationary made its way to my post? I pegged your lot to be more creative and frankly, more sophisticated in your pranks. This wouldn't even fool a first-year."
Ron groaned. "I TOLD Bill not to let the kids write out the invites."
"Which one, the blonde one with freckles or the red ones with freckles?" Draco asked with a smirk.
"Obviously the twins – I think blonde hair neutralizes any predilection for fun," Ron said with a roll of the eyes. Bill's second eldest, Joseph, seemed to him a painful mix of a prim Fleur and an uptight Percy.
"Oh Ron, they didn't!" Hermione said aghast. Thankfully she hadn't checked her mail yet.
"I think Bill and Fleur figured it would be a good exercise in learning how to be responsible," Ron mocked, chucking the invitation into the trash bin. "Good thing you didn't open it, I was just about to tell you two about it anyway. This year's at their place, so be sure to bring your own pillows."
"It" being the Weasley's annual End-Of-Summer Picnic-slash-Sleepover. It used to be held at The Burrow every year, but with most of the Weasley clan moved out, save Ron and Ginny, the site of the party moved from year to year.
"Lord…," Draco moaned.
"But what they lack in home amenities, they make up for in yard space. It's large enough to hold a Quidditch face-off, so what'd you say Malfoy? Hankering for a rematch?" Ron said excitedly.
"Oh no you don't," he warned. "I remember last time. Never call me a cheating wanker ever again. Weasley-blood is swimming with deceit."
Hermione and Ron shared a look and laughed. A few years back at the Burrow, Ron, Harry, Ginny, the Twins challenged Draco to a small game of Quidditch. George, Fred and Draco versus Ginny, Ron and Harry. It was disastrous. The twins, with their tendency to prank, completely betrayed Draco during the first five minutes of the game.
And Harry and Ron figured even if the twins decided to play a plain, clear-cut game, which was rarely, Malfoy was bound to cheat. They decided with Ginny's help to beat him to the punch and utilized blatantly illegal maneuvers and props to gain their point advantage. It ended with them unintentionally knocking Malfoy off his broom with a large rope held by Ginny and Harry flanking his sides.
Draco, muddy on the ground, cursed and swore at them until he lost his voice, which made him grudgingly accept Molly's coddling and her limitless herbal tea remedy. Though Molly had accepted Draco into her brood many years ago, he never really held a soft place in her heart until now. Something about wrapping a home knit scarf around a seething young man while making him drink his eighth cup of tea made him oddly lovable.
Ron always liked to point out whenever he could that that was when Draco first received his honorary "Mummy Hug." Molly loved to engulf her little ones with a hearty bear hug to her bosom. Draco blushes every time it was brought up while growling for Ron to close his bloody trap. Ron had a sneaking suspicion Draco actually enjoyed the hugs but would rather be tortured to death by nails than admit to it. Draco had a sneaking suspicion Ron was an idiot.
"I swear, the bats were Harry's idea," he said, trying to keep his chuckling to a minimum when Draco shot him a cold glare.
"I don't doubt that," he bit out. "Though I remember quite clearly you holding a crude shovel."
"To be fair, Ron said it was more for batting the snitch away rather than bashing your head in," Hermione interjected sweetly. Draco flashed her an insincere smile.
"So he says."
Hermione, quick as lightning, grabbed a slice of Brie and stuffed it gracelessly into her mouth. Malfoy let out a sound of indignation. While he was staring at her in shock she went back in for another slice.
Ron cleared his throat, even though he knew it was of no use. He decided to blaze through, regardless. "So yeah, if you bring your own pillow, I'm sure there's going to be enough room to house everybody –"
"Don't you dare eat another piece, Granger I mean it. Don't you – Don't!"
"Er, and you better bring a spare outfit, since all the kids are comin–"
"Give me that!"
"I just put that in my mouth! You're so disgusting - !"
"SINCE ALL THE KIDS ARE COMING AND YOU KNOW HOW THEY GET. Also, the food's going to be amazing this year, Mum's got this new pot where –"
He was once again interrupted by the sounds of slapping hands.
"Stop it! Let me eat in peace, you stingy beetle!"
"No! If you're going to be pinching my food, you might as well eat it properly. Now eat this cracker with that – no you don't – you eat this you eat this right now!"
"Get away! I hate sesame I won't eat – let go!"
"Just hold still while I – "
"Mmfph!"
"THIS NEW POT WHERE IT FLAVORS THE STEW oh you two are impossible STOP FAFFING ABOUT!!" Ron roared.
The two had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. Hermione dolefully chewed on the cracker that was recently crammed into her mouth. Malfoy shot her a look. She swallowed. She dramatically shrugged her shoulders, indicating that the cracker wasn't all he made it out to be.
Ron sighed. He dabbed his brow with a handkerchief. "Blood and sand, I swear if you two don't tear each other apart I'll do it to the both of you."
"Please, Ronald, at least I'm not like a certain person back at Hogwarts that couldn't keep his fists away from another certain person," Hermione said airily, hopping off the desk easily.
"That was different," he grumbled, pecking Hermione on the cheek. "Why don't you go out and grab some real lunch? I need to talk tactics with Malfoy for the scrimmage."
"Who said that I was even coming?" Draco asked haughtily.
"Please, you come every year, digging your heels, swearing you're never coming back the next year," Ron said with a wave of his hand, walking up to his desk and taking a seat. "Besides, I don't care if Harry plays for Chudley, it's still damn embarrassing to be beaten by him."
"Now that, we can agree on."
Hermione could have just left it at that and exited without a hitch. She should have just left. Right when they put their heads together to discuss and talk in a secret language known only to Quidditch players. She should have left.
But her feet just wouldn't move.
He was like a magnet. Irresistible. Undeniable.
Despite whatever he said, whatever he felt, whatever he did, people were still drawn to him. Listened to him. Trusted him.
She felt that tingle of panic that was familiar to her all those years ago. It started at the pit of her stomach, dropping to her feet and then shoving up into her throat, rising up to the back of her eyes. Her breath quickened. Her heart pounded rapidly.
Look at him. Look at them.
It was so isolating. Wherever he went, people just couldn't help but look at him. Always to him. All else overshadowed.
What did people see in him?
What did they see in him that they couldn't see in her?
It was just like then. Hermione tried to rationalize. She tried to forget. She tried to let it go.
But she couldn't.
Just like then. Even Ron. Even Harry. They all went to him. Forgot about her. Didn't listen to her anymore. Always went to him for everything.
Hermione tried to leave. Her hand twitched towards the doorknob. But her feet were cemented. She couldn't tear her eyes away. Frightened that if she looked away, Ron would be lost to her forever.
Look at them talk. Look at that trust. That respect.
Ron was slipping away from her. They were all slipping away from her.
Because of him.
NO.
YOU CAN'T TAKE THEM FROM ME.
They're MINE.
He's MINE.
"He's – "
The two men turned. Hermione clamped her hands over her mouth, vainly trying to physically stop the flow of words from her lips. Trying to catch them in the air and shove them back down her throat.
Her eyes were wide, twitching. She fled.
They shrugged. Ron went back to looking at their crudely drawn diagram. Draco's head was down, as if he too were looking at it. His eyes stayed glued to the door.
Hermione ran until she shut the door to the lounge room. She collapsed on the soft couch. She held her head, clenching her wavy hair. She rocked back and forth, moaning.
No. No. No. NO.
She was past this. They Purged her. Didn't they?
Her hands slowly traveled down the side of her head, grasping her neck. Her left hand started to rub the back of her neck.
A flash of purple and black. Slowly, lines began appearing – a tattoo formed. A glowing shape of a tree-ring emerged, unique in its shape and pattern.
When the War was over and the Light won, the land was ravaged, the soldiers exhausted and despaired. Like most wars, this one was not fought by the whole community, but rather it was fought by only those who volunteered, mostly the young and naïve. There were two factions of the Light: the Ministry and the Order of Phoenix. The Ministry was the official army, with actual aurors and soldiers and order and disciple and veterans. The Order of the Phoenix was where all the young men and women flocked to, mostly those who had recently graduated from Hogwarts.
Of course, the Light had allies – the Giants, the Centaurs, foreign witches, wizards, mages, sorceresses. They had many allies. But adding up all that fought, they still made up a small percentage of the whole Wizarding community. Despite this, the whole magical world was scarred. Those that fought were so weary from their battle couldn't even find the joy to celebrate their victory.
To benefit the survivors of the War, the WWW was created and implemented – the Wizarding World Welfare organization. It consisted of high-level magic users who created a specific spell that would help everyone move on, to continue to live on. Happily. Unlike memory charms, this specific spell didn't cover or erase the traumatizing memories of War. Instead, it acted like a buffer between the events of the War and the present day.
Of course, most communities are able to live on and function after wars. That was how the world worked, how human nature worked. But it took a long time. People needed time to adjust, to accept, to move on.
But they didn't have the time.
They needed to quickly restructure, to rebuild – they had no time to hold each other and cry and scream and laugh through the dark times. This is where the Purge came in. Rather than making the people forget all their horrifying experiences, it softened the blow of the memories. Like what time can do, after perhaps years, perhaps half a lifetime worth of time. Nothing would be forgotten, no one's death would have been in vain and vanished from memories. People would learn from the past. But with the Purge, they would be able to move forward with these memories buried in the back of their minds, like something that happened a long time ago.
The Purge was administrated by the council of the WWW, a giant wave of crackling purple and black pouring over the entire Earth. Those who were deeply involved in the War had individual sessions. They received a special tattoo on the back of their necks that only appeared when pressed or strong emotions were present that concerned the specific War trauma. The tattoo, a cross between a unique tree-ring and a barcode, helped the WWW quickly and efficiently identify the person and their particular needs.
Purging oneself was optional, of course. There were those who never wanted their memories tampered with, no matter how lightly. Some said the pain helped them live on. Some said the pain was their punishment. Some just never wanted their senses dulled.
In any case, the Purge had some unexpected perks for the heroes of the War. For people like Harry Potter, life after the War, even if the Wizarding world moved on with the conventional way, he would never have been able to live a normal life. They would all be worshipped like heroes, unable to even go out to get a cup of coffee without getting accosted by admirers. It wasn't the kind of life they wanted, not after what then had been through. The Purge helped soften their impending celebrity status, enabling them to live a normal life, to go do whatever they pleased without the fear of being mobbed on the streets. This was why Harry was able to just be a Quidditch player, and Ron, Draco, and Hermione were able to pursue normal jobs at the Ministry without fanfare or scrutiny.
It was why Hermione was able to function to this day.
Or so she thought.
She should book an appointment with the WWW. This was insanity. This debilitating….emotion towards Malfoy was unacceptable.
Yes, she had issues with Malfoy, but she was over it. She thought it through, she deemed it childish and ugly. She knew it was only her unwillingness to let go of those emotions that prevented her from moving on. Her mind was over it, but it seemed her emotions were not as logical.
Hermione sighed and shook herself. Whether or not something went wonky with her Purge, she had to deal with it for the time being. She had to snap out of it. As she calmed herself down and opened the door, she accidentally bumped it into a passing figure.
"Oh, excuse me," she said softly, breaking out of her inner musings.
"It's alright," Alex said, with a slight smile. Hermione immediately smiled back.
"Hi Alex, working even during break?" she said, relaxing a little.
He nodded with a shrug of the shoulders. "You know how the Minister gets," he said with a wry grin. "But I don't mind, really. He always has such interesting Muggle theories."
Hermione had to laugh. Despite his vast intellect and love for the culture, Arthur was horrid at getting the facts straight when it came to Muggle devices. As the two were conversing good-heartedly, she breathed a mental sigh of relief. She was truly glad she was a complete coward and never confessed her feelings for Alex. By getting to know him better she discovered he wasn't the right man for her. It was all her little imaginations that really made her fall for him rather than her simply regarding him with platonic admiration.
Although, it was a pity he was taken and her interest in him waned. Now who would unburden her of all her lovey, virginal baggage?
And NO, Jolie Denela didn't count.
Hermione should have known her peaceful days wouldn't last.
An hour before she was freed for the weekend from her strenuous workload, a flustered and blushing Alex approached her office.
"Alex?" she asked, looking up.
Embarrassedly, not really meeting her eyes, he said, "Er, Hermione, that is, I don't really know how to say this…."
Although she hadn't truly known him until recently, she knew him enough to know that he rarely got flustered. She had a bad feeling about this.
Abashedly, he began awkwardly plowing through what he hoped was a coherent and gentle speech. Through his bumbling and ramblings and mutters, Hermione's heart nearly burst out of chest.
He knew.
There was no possible way he could have……that must mean that……..but that means somebody must have……but why..?
Someone must have told him and now he's trying to let her down gently!?
Shocked as she was, she had to take care of the situation at hand. Damage control took first priority. Now, contrary to popular belief, Hermione Granger was hardly an angel and was not above lying to preserve say, a fragile, burgeoning friendship. Not to mention saving face and pride. Even the Hermione at Hogwarts, the stickler to school rules that she was, wasn't all that scrupulous. The adventures she had with Harry and Ron could attest to that.
And the Hermione of now? After seeing hell and back, she could definitely lie if she wanted to. And right now, she really, really wanted to.
"Alex, please, wait a moment!" she interrupted with forced cheer. Alex looked at her quizzically. Hermione managed to laugh a giddy little trill. "As devastated as I am by your albeit lovely rejection, I'm afraid there must be some mistake."
"But…"
Hermione smiled gently. "Thank you, for being so considerate of my feelings. But honestly, I don't know where you got the ridiculous notion that I fancied you. I don't. Unfortunately, I only see you as a friend. I know, very tragic."
He looked more relaxed and composed, but there was still a look of doubt in his eyes. She panicked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"I'm actually seeing someone at the moment. Er, Blaise Zabini!" Hermione cringed. She mentally sent a apology to the innocent party. "Yes, I very much fancy him, although for now we're nothing but friends."
Alex finally nodded, his face relieved and understanding. He did see the two together an awful lot since the Gala. And he did bid on her that night. After a few more firm words from Hermione, reassuring him that no harm was done and that their friendship was safe, Alex left the office, his heart light in his new understanding.
Hermione on the other hand, was fuming. She should have asked him who told him that she fancied him. But she didn't need to. Only one person would know of her feelings for him. She knew exactly whose fault this was. She marched into the lift, furiously jabbing the button to Level 5. She had no idea why he would do something so unexpectedly cruel to her, especially considering how relatively well they had been getting along recently. This was one of the worst things he had ever done to her. He had gone too far.
Before reaching the Level, she paused to take a deep breath, sighing in relief that she managed to save her arse from total embarrassment. She quickly sent up an apology to any deity who despised lying (mostly likely….ALL of them).
She launched into his office, beginning her tirade without preamble. "How dare you! I should've known better than to let my guard down, you traitorous, poor excuse of a man!"
Apparently, Draco had been expecting her and already had his wand at the ready; he flicked it towards the door, shutting it smartly behind her. His face was of cold detachment.
"What gave you the right to tell Alex about my feelings? What was going through that tiny, evil little brain of yours?! What made you suddenly decide to completely destroy my relationship with him? You've nearly ruined everything between us! What gave you the RIGHT?!" Hemione raged, burning.
Finally he spoke, his voice clipped and sharp. His lips curled with disdain. "You made it everybody's right from the moment you began sniveling after his wake and made those disgusting doe eyes at him for all to see!"
His voice rapidly degenerated from self-contained coldness to barely being able to restrain his emotions. It was very unlike his usual self to fly off the handle like this. "I thought I'd do you and the rest of the world a favor by speeding up the process. YOU obviously weren't doing anything about it! So what's wrong with casually suggesting a hypothetical to the man?!"
Hermione sputtered. There was so much to process, so much to address. Where to even start! Finally getting a foothold, she screamed, "You have no IDEA what you just did, do you? What is wrong with you?!"
As she continued shouting expletives at him, she couldn't help but notice that he was definitely acting strangely. Different from few other times she saw him lose his tight self-control. His eyes were darting back and forth between her face and the door behind her. When he shouting back at her, his words were jumbled, like he couldn't hold onto the words coming out of his mouth – they just had to burst through. He began fumbling and his sentence structures were beginning to loose shape. He started to hesitate, like he wanted to say something but he managed to not say them.
Finally, he bit out, "You're so…..you're so selfish."
She couldn't even speak. Her mouth opened, no words coming out. What did he mean by that? Deep in her gut, she had a feeling they weren't talking about the same subject anymore.
"You're always…looking…and and…you never..!"
Hermione had no words to respond to him. She couldn't decipher what he was going on about. Confused, but too angry to be intrigued, she plowed on with her anger. "I have no idea what you're blathering on about, Malfoy. You are an awful human being for even thinking of sabatoging a person's personal life like that. Be glad I have been over Alex for awhile now and managed to salvage our friendship, or you better believe you would be absolutely smoking from my curse, you damn pillock!"
His face changed drastically, his eyes widening in surprise. As he opened his mouth, she cut in wrathfully, "I. am. leaving. And if you ever, EVER try to interfere with my life again, I will hex off so many parts of you no one will ever be able to piece you back together!"
As she turned to leave, she fully expected something scathing from him, most likely him not admitting to his guilt, to ever show the faintest amount of regret. But the hesitant, almost strangled tone he had was enough to make her turn around.
He was standing up, his hands on his desk, shoulders hunched. His entire body was tense, like he was physically restraining himself from moving, forcing his body to stay behind that desk. His eyes were clouded, his mouth set in a grim line.
"Granger, I……I didn't want to….." He cursed underneath his breath. He took a deep breath and looked up at her, starting over again. "You know I wouldn't….you were just – "
"I'm not going to pretend I know what you're trying to say and frankly, I don't really care."
With that, the door slammed behind her.
Hermione had plenty of time to mull over Draco's strange behavior and his confusing words. They actually haven't spoken in two weeks. Not even bumped into each other once. Granted Hermione tried her damndest to avoid him, but she was surprised when it seemed like he was making an effort as well to not see her. That was odd. Usually even after a row Malfoy was never shy about encountering and confronting her. Although she was glad for the respite, she couldn't help but notice how odd it was to not have contact with him for such a long time. He had been a constant figure in her life ever since she was eleven. Well, there was that time right after Hogwarts, but that was a different story.
The sad thing about this whole affair was that she knew it wouldn't last. Somehow, someway, they would find themselves interacting as normal, like nothing had ever transpired between them, without even an apology. She should have hated him forever. Never to be forgiven. And had he been anyone else, she would have done just that.
But it was Malfoy.
This latest incident was nothing but a small hitch in their bumpy road together. They had a strange way of going back to normal despite all their bad feelings. It was mostly Malfoy's doing. He just had that effect. Their relationship was a tumultuous one. At best they squabbled. But the thing was, they had been through so much together. They've been through much worse.
They've been at each other's throats, literally, with every intention of death. They were side by side when the news was announced that the War was truly over. They've been to so many gatherings together, every one of them ending with Draco fighting and getting into an argument with at least one of her friends. They held each other when it was announced their comrades died valiantly.
In any event, Hermione had a lot on her plate. If she wasn't contemplating what Malfoy's deal was, it was over Blaise. After announcing to Alex that she fancied him, she began wondering what was so wrong with that idea. Sure, her chances may be close to nil, and she felt funny every time he was with her, but still! He paid attention to her, he was smart, he was attractive, he was single. Why not? It would certainly give her something to concentrate on.
After deciding to pursue Blaise and to consciously spend time with him, he seemed delighted by it. He more than happily accepted her attention and invited her out as much as he could. If she wasn't going to get rid of all her inexperience with him, then with who, right? It's not like she had a whole slew of men lining up in front of her to choose from.
She was mildly concerned over being so uncomfortable in his presence, but she chalked it up to nerves. She figured if she was exposed to him more, she would get used to him and her feelings would begin to grow. So for now, she was preparing herself to fancy him. She hadn't….as of yet….actually fallen for him. But she will. With time. She was sure of it.
As two weeks crawled by, Hermione was shocked at how…….empty life felt. Things just weren't as interesting. It was strange. Things were actually kind of boring without that little bugger around to keep her attention. And from she heard from the whispers around the office, he was having a difficult time with this as well. He didn't seem to be functioning too well without her either. He wasn't performing up to par. His work was slipping. Word was he was actually surly to others, even women. It was well known that he had a different face for people other than her, Harry, and Ron. He created a pleasant façade, knowing that it was optimal for getting whatever it was that he wanted. To have him break down like this showed the extent of the blow.
Could she…..could it be…..she enjoyed spending time with him? But that was preposterous! He lived to annoy her. She lived to aggravate him. They drove each other crazy. But…..things just seemed more alive, more fun with him around. He constantly challenged her and acknowledged her presence. He wasn't intimidated by her intellect. He treated her like an equal, which was a lot, coming from the most arrogant, egotistical person alive. Now that she thought about it, after the Gala, they had been getting along particularly well – it reminded her a bit of their 7th year. Despite their differences, they did have some fun times together. Definitely better times than during the War….
At the thought of the War she shuddered.
She stuck to her resolve. She wasn't going to break first! What he did was atrocious. She didn't care if he was having a hard time. Served him right.
Hermione was writing up some follow-up notes on her latest report when suddenly a note came whizzing into her office. Her eyebrow quirked up. She recognized that pretentious, expensive stationary right away.
"Brilliant, I wonder what he has to say," she thought sourly to herself. No doubt it was some rude request for something or an insult to her hair.
Her eyes widened.
Granger,
I was wrong. Get in my office so I can apologize properly.
D.M.
To say she was shocked would be an understatement. This was Malfoy. He NEVER apologizes. Even when he knew 100 that he was wrong, he found a way to preserve his dignity and either convinced himself through slippery logic that he wasn't wrong, or he completely ignored the whole thing. She couldn't believe what she was reading. If not for his recognizable handwriting, she would have sworn someone was playing her for a fool. And of course his tone. Only he would be so demanding and haughty in an apology attempt.
Numb with confusion, she found her feet taking her to his office. Before she knew it, she was in front of his office. As she mechanically raised her hand to knock, the door opened with Draco standing by his desk, his back to her. He seemed to be digging some items out of a large paper bag.
"Um –" Hermione began, hesitantly.
Briskly, he handed her a box, literally shoving it into her arms. She looked down at it, then back up at him. He made an impatient gesture with his hand, indicating that she should open it.
When she took the top off, she gasped.
"I remember you looking at that one day in the Alley," he said brusquely, his face and demeanor the very example of business professional. He went back to searching through the bag.
She had, but she wasn't aware that he saw her. She didn't even know they were at Diagon Alley at the same time. It was a beautiful, gauzy robe that was all the rage at the moment. The light robe was literally see-through, meant to be worn on top of standard robes; since most robes were conventionally black, the thinner robe gave it some color and spice without covering it. This particular one was a fine, mesh-y kind of material, so light it could float on its own. It was deep maroon in color with the bottom embellished with a slight touch of lace.
"Malfoy," she breathed, touching the material, not believing what she was seeing. Of course, it was gorgeous, but it was the most expensive thing in that window display! She checked the tag – how did he know her exact size?
He shoved another box in front of her. Nearly dropping her box, she managed to put it down to tentatively open this smaller one. Inside clattered no fewer than 12 pairs of expensive cufflinks. She finally shot her head up, looking him directly into his eyes.
"Those are all the cufflinks I own – I'm currently doing without any." He pushed his robe sleeve up to reveal the dress shirt underneath. His shirt cuff was indeed naked and closed with the customary button sewn on. Who was this man and what did he do to the real Draco Malfoy?
"But you – "
"Leave them here, we're going out," he announced, making his way out the door without looking back. Hermione, dazed at his behavior, managed to place the boxes on his chair and quickly followed him. Her mind still hasn't caught up with the events. All she could do was follow the bulldozer known as Malfoy. He remained several paces in front of her, despite her best efforts. She tried to chalk it up to him getting a head start, but knew she was lagging behind do his superior physical condition and his long legs. And her shoes were tall.
Where was he taking her? And why was he doing this? Why was he buying her things? He seemed like he was trying to maintain a certain air of detachment, which was probably typical of him. Of course he wouldn't apologize sincerely like a normal person – he would make it seem like he was getting his teeth pulled.
They passed by the expensive jewelry shop, the many women's boutiques until they finally reached the obscure bookshop that Hermione loved to frequent. He entered, only to turn back at the door when he noticed she just stood there, in the middle of the street. Staring at him.
"Well?" he said, turning to the side, allowing her room to enter.
She finally found her voice. "What exactly are you doing?"
"Obviously I'm buying you books. Whatever you want. They're all yours," he said a little gruffly, signaling for her to enter. But she wasn't done yet.
"Is this how you apologize to all those other women?" she asked scathingly, knowing she was only sounding this way because she was mystified as hell. "You just buy them off?"
He growled, putting his hand across his eyes. "You know I don't." He removed his hand and looked her straight in the eyes. Offhandedly, she noted how beautiful his eyes really were. Such a unique shade of gray. "Look, you know how I was raised. You know I don't…..I'm not used to…" He floundered.
Hermione mentally shook her head. He couldn't even say the word apologize. She jerked her head, indicating she knew what he was saying so he could proceed.
He recollected himself. "This is the only way I know how, okay? So just….just let me do this. For you. Let me do this and have you forgive me with this stupid, pointless, utterly undeserving display of wealth. Alright?"
The way he looked. It was so unlike him. It was like he was desperately trying to do the right thing, but just didn't know how. And he was frustrated with himself, not only for not knowing what to do, but also for feeling the need to apologize in the first place. He was trying hard not to snap at her because he was essentially angry at himself, not her. He was like a boy, acting tough because he didn't want any emotions to show, embarrassed by it. Beneath his bravado, she could sense a hint of desperation. It was like she had to accept his offer. Otherwise it'd be like she would never forgive him. He was throwing himself out on the limb, balancing himself on the tightrope.
Hermione couldn't help but grin. The fact that he knew that nothing could really please her more than books showed how much thought he put into this. If he had just showered her with randomly bought jewelry and clothing, she had a feeling she wouldn't have accepted his gesture of apology as readily. She didn't need his money, she didn't need these books. he knew that. But if she didn't do this….. She quickly suppressed her smile and lifted her chin up. She marched right in front of him and into the store.
She looked over her shoulder. "Be warned Malfoy, I'm planning on buying all the leather-bound, limited edition, gold embossed books I can find. Prepare yourself," she said haughtily, watching him for his reaction.
And like that, the hard exterior around him melted, revealing the easy-going, pompous man she was used to. He smirked and followed her in. "I'll have you know just the interest alone in one of my accounts is enough to buy out this entire shop."
"In that case, I'm going to start here….."
"That really is a beautiful robe you have on," Blaise said softly, during one of their frequent dinners. It was a very nice restaurant, with candles floating about them to create a light, romantic ambiance.
Hermione blushed. Not just from his compliment. How was she supposed to explain to him Malfoy bought it for her? As an apology? So she merely thanked him.
Since making up with Draco, she saw Blaise more and more. He was the perfect gentleman every time, never asking for more than a kiss on the hand, although recently he had been kissing her on the cheek. And he started touching her more. Nothing too major – a touch of his hand to hers now and again, the occasional light pressure on the small of her back, standing quite close to her. Nothing too invasive. She wondered if it was the standard "butterflies in your stomach from excitement" she was feeling. She definitely felt something every time they touched. But she was curious why she wasn't drooling over his shoes, begging for him to take to the land of adult love like all the other women out there. Perhaps it just wasn't in her nature?
What was truly confusing was how Malfoy was treating her. He was still a git and took every opportunity he had to insult her, but there was something new added to the mix. There was a tension. Every now and again, he was almost….flirty. Just the thought of it made her shudder a little. However, there was no other word to describe it. His jokes, his jibes, had a tinge of sexuality that was never there before.
Like once, when they were arguing over something petty, she retorted that he just couldn't handle her being in control or something like that. Then he leaned in real close, whispering, "Oh, I think I could handle you just fine." And it wasn't really what he said – if he had said that with a snort and a wave, she would have understood. But the way he bent towards her, his eyes hazy and his smile coy and his face so close to hers she could feel his breath – that was new. That was all new.
Hermione shivered. She didn't know what was the matter with him. Or with her, for that matter. She should have been gagging in her mouth when he did those things. Oddly, it filled her with a sense of dread and excited anticipation. It was kind of thrilling. It was ridiculous.
She had to keep on telling herself there was no way she felt anything for him and vice versa. It was probably just his new, favorite method of teasing her. Probably one day when he offhandedly made a somewhat sexual joke, they way she reacted was hilarious to him, so he kept on doing it. Or or or…..maybe he was just frustrated…. in that way…. and it was just unconsciously spilling over to her.
Finally, just the other day, she barked at him to hurry up and find another bimbo already so she could finally live in peace. He merely laughed, "Granger, you have no idea, do you?"
She had nothing to say to that, but she tried her hardest not to think too hard about it. The way he smiled and walked away dismissively - all that indicated that he saw her as he always did. So…that must mean that….it was all just a big joke to him.
Yes. That was it. It was all in her head. If only she could snap out of it, he wouldn't be able to affect her anymore. A perfect explanation.
"Hermione? Are you all right?" Blaise asked, his eyes worried.
She brought her eyes on him. Oh dear, how long had she been lost in thought? She quickly smiled. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine."
He smiled back, revealing his perfect, white teeth. "What do you say we finish here? I know a great coffee house with excellent desserts. You said you like chocolates, yes?"
Hermione laughed. Liked chocolates – she loved them. "Just show me the way."
As they were exiting, she again couldn't help but notice the protective way he had his hand on the small of her back, gently leading her through the restaurant. And at the end of the night, he moved to give her his customary peck on the cheek. But this time, she wasn't sure if it was on purpose or not, he kissed her further down her cheek, at the corner of her mouth. He bade her goodnight and Apperated. That was as close to a kiss as she had ever gotten. She should be ecstatic. She was definitely shivering.
Her hand moved to wipe her face.
The next day at the labs, Hermione was furiously trying to pipette while making sure Reginald didn't sneak off to find more flowers to use in his experiments. It was hard.
A stack of papers suddenly flopped onto her workbench, causing her to jump, squeezing the entire content of the dropper into the tube.
"Oh, crumbs!"
"That's the best you can do?" Malfoy asked, looking at her incredulously.
Hermione threw her equipment into the sink with a glower. "I'm a changed woman," she retorted. "Couldn't you announce yourself like a normal person? Or quietly slip this stack of Merlin knows what onto the table?"
"And the enjoyment that brings me would be…?"
"Can you just tell me what these are?!" she snapped, picking up the stack.
"Just some funding reports from the last two weeks. I just need you to sign here….initial here….and here…..and date this….and sign again here."
As she was grumbling at the idiocy that was bureaucracy, Malfoy made himself at home by lounging in her swivel chair, leaning back and twirling around. Halfway through the stack, she was suddenly, unexpectedly assaulted with a vision.
It felt good to be walking down these halls again. It had been…what, four weeks? Five? She never thought she would survive and come back here. She couldn't be too leisurely though, she had to be debriefed in forty-five minutes. Maybe another quick round of the place, then grab a quick bite to eat before heading over to the main conference room.
She was suddenly pushed into an empty closet, the door slamming shut. It was dark. Her heart began racing. No. NO. She opened her mouth to scream.
"Shhhh," he whispered, somehow flawlessly knowing where her lips were and pressed his finger against them. He pulled a hanging chain from the ceiling, lighting a tiny light bulb that barely lit the room.
She relaxed when she realized who it was. Then she tensed again, realizing who it was. "What are you doing?" she managed to hiss. She began struggling out of his arms. He held fast.
"We don't have much time," he went on, completely ignoring her question. He pressed her against the wall with his body, freeing his arms to roam her body. She felt a familiar heat rising in her. Well, familiar enough; they've only started four, five weeks ago. His hands firmly and confidently traveled down the side of her body, wrapping around to squeeze her buttocks. She gasped.
"N-no, stop," she whispered, putting her hands on his shoulders. She tried to push him off but she was unsuccessful. Why was he doing this? They weren't……there. So why?
"Just try and make me," he murmured in her ear as he continue to knead her supple butt. His lips moved down to her neck where he began to lick and lightly scrape his teeth. Oh no, not her neck. She couldn't help but whimper, her hands gripping his shoulders for leverage. Thank God he was pressing her so tightly against the wall or else she would have collapsed. How was it that she could loose all her senses just from his simple touch?
"I-I don't….understand," she panted, now wrapping her arms around his neck. He kicked her legs opened, making himself comfortable between them. He reached underneath her skirt and began stroking her, separated only by her thin panties.
"I don't really either," he admitted, then he kissed her fiercely, like a man drowning. "I just saw you and I couldn't help myself." His tongue forced its way into her mouth, assaulting hers. She moaned deep in his mouth. She was heady with his ministrations. Gods, he was so good at this. She bucked her hips, wanting more attention. One of her legs automatically wrapped itself around his waist.
He ran his other hand down her silky leg. He chuckled. She really was like a drug. He released her mouth momentarily so he could slip two of his fingers into his mouth. Slick with saliva, he quickly brought them back down under her skirt, roughly pulling her panties off to one side so he could stimulate her more directly.
He swallowed her gasp with another searing kiss. Hermione began to shake. Such talented fingers. They knew exactly what to do; they lightly circled her clit in tight, quick circles, just the way she liked it. Then they began to flicker up and down her clit rapidly. Her breath hitched. She could feel his hard erection pressing into her stomach. Just the thought of its size made her wetter. She was definitely ruining this pair of knickers. Hermione started breathing rhythmically. She was close. She felt that rush down her legs to the tips of her toes, the deep, knotting feeling down her abdomen..
She groaned when he stopped playing with her clit, but immediately stopped when he slipped one finger into her soaking channel. He began pumping it in and out, first slowly, then building speed. It felt wonderful. His finger curved slightly, brushing up against her G-spot. He went faster. Hermione started to rock with him. Oh God. So close. He added another finger.
"Do you like your knickers?" he growled, gripping her thigh tightly in an attempt to keep in control and not just throw her to the floor, rutting her like an common animal.
"H-hn?" she managed to gasp. She couldn't piece together a coherent thought at the moment. He took that as a no.
"Good, because I can't fuck you properly with them on." With that, he ripped the thin material right off her as she moaned. He removed his fingers and quickly replaced them with his hot, throbbing member. He couldn't help but let out a moan as well. She was so tight.
As he was pumping in and out of her, she wrapped her other leg around his waist, allowing him to penetrate her deeper. He gritted his teeth, he almost came right there and then. She was a quick learner, he'd give her that. His movements became more sloppy as he neared his climax and he hammered into her relentlessly. She didn't even try to muffle her moans anymore. She was going to come, she was going to come so hard. Her fingers gripped his back and she squeezed her thighs together. He knew she was close. He continued thrusting into her. Hermione suddenly brought her lips to the spot where his neck ended and his shoulders began in order to soften her scream as she came. When he felt her walls contract around his shaft, he knew he couldn't hold it in any longer. With a few more pumps, he came as well, squirting his milky semen into her. After a few spurts, he was finally spent and she was starting to spiral down from her orgasmic bliss.
They both sank down to the floor. She was half holding him, half getting flattened by his limp body. His muscles were so tight and hard. He rested his head on her shoulder, breathing on her neck. His penis slipped out of her, her own cum and his semen dribbling down her thighs and onto the floor.
They were like that for awhile, both lost in exhausted pleasure. He knew she was going start asking him again why he did what he just did. She assumed that what they had together was only for the mission. How wrong she was. But he didn't have the energy to explain himself just yet. To distract her, he tried to bring up another subject before she had a chance to speak.
"When this is all over, you should visit my villa in Venice, it has a fantastic view," he murmured, tracing patterns on her breasts with an idle finger. Her shirt was crumpled now and smelled of sex and sweat.
She didn't say anything at first. He began to wonder if she even heard him. Then, "Does it look out into the water or into the town?"
He grinned. "The town. You can see San Marco's Piazza from it." He moved to kiss her again, this time a little gentler because he was sated, but still held that animal hunger. He nipped her lips.
When the broke the kiss, Hermione brushed the hair that was covering his eyes. Such lovely eyes.
Such lovely gray eyes.
Hermione gasped. She gripped the pile of paper in her hand with cold hands. What was that. WHAT WAS THAT.
A memory? A fantasy? She didn't which one was worse. She threw an fierce look Malfoy's way. What did he do to her? Some sort of joke spell, to make her have naughty visions? But he was busy observing Reginald nervously trying to hide his potted plants from view and failing miserable. No. He didn't cause this.
Hermione felt very warm. That dr- no, that fanta – no! That vision was intense. Whatever it was, it made the apex of her legs hot and she had to cross her legs. Her knickers were oddly damp. There was a tight knot deep in her stomach. Her face must have been red as a tomato. She took a deep breath. She tried to focus and not think of her physical body. She had to transcend it. There was only one way to figure out what was what.
"M-Malfoy?" she squeaked, cursing herself for not having better control. She had to be strong. There had to be some sort of reasonable explanation for this.
"What?" he said loftily, not even glancing back at her.
She cleared her throat and said in what she hoped was a clear, confident, not suspicious at all kind of voice, "Do you have villa in Venice that looks out to San Marco's?"
It felt like a million years for him to turn around and face her. She could feel her heart beating in her eardrums. She hoped she could hear him over her heart beats. She hid half her face behind the stack of papers. Hermione prayed to God that he couldn't even being to fathom what she just experienced. She would have been mortified.
He cocked his head to one side, eyeing her strangely. This was it. This was it.
"Well, yes. How did you know that?"
Oh God. OH GOD. Hermione began to panic.
"No-no reason! I mean, I heard you bragging about it one day," she spat out quickly, stuttering. She abruptly stood up. "I just remembered I had to go do something I don't know what I mean I know what it was but I should get going gottogobye!"
She dashed out of the labs, leaving behind a confused Malfoy and papers strewn all over the place.
WOW, sorry for the late update. I told you job hunting was a bitch. Er…so….how was it? Truth be told, this was my most difficult chapter to date, and probably one of the trickiest of this series. I really, really hate stupid expositions and boring explanations, which this chapter is full of. I know, I'm sorry, I apologize. This was the hardest because this chapter is THE transition chapter. This is where things go from light and fluffy to revealing secrets and kind dark and thinky. Hopefully it was okay?
I slaved over this fic all night, trying really hard to get everything to flow smoothly. Let me know if it seems stilted and well, boring. I will try my best to edit it and make it work. I don't know how other authors do things, but I can't write over a period of time. I usually write about a page of outline for the chapter, then start typing and filling in the blanks and I don't stop until I finish. So yeah, this is all freshly typed! Not to toot my own horn, but sometimes I'm amazed that even with only a bare idea in my mind, suddenly my fingers start moving and then…..24 pages of writing comes out! I've been typing nonstop throughout the night and let me tell you, my fingers are TIRED!
Thank you all so much for reviewing – did I mention that before? Of course I truly enjoy the long comments and the predictions (who wouldn't, right?), but I know how much effort it takes to write a review, so even a simple, "NICE" feels wonderful to me and helps inspire me to write faster. Thank you. Thank you. I am not worthy.
Even thought it's not a Post-Hogwarts story, I really enjoyed one from a long time ago, named something like "Draco, the Amazing Bouncing Rat" on It was light but not too fluffy, and extremely funny. I really enjoyed how the author portrayed Draco so that he was able to get along with everybody yet not be some namby-pamby little boy. So drawing from her rendition, that was how I wanted my current Draco to be – someone integrated and close to Hermione, Ron, and all of them, yet still retaining his snarkiness. If you get a chance, please do read that story. It's great.
I'm really nervous about releasing this chapter, so even if you hate it, be kind in your criticism?? And how was the smut? Haha I know, it's all the way at the end – fooled you, didn't I? I know it's kind of fast and forced, but I tried to make it that way to help enforce the notion that it was a quickie heeheehee. I hope it was decent. Again, let me know.
Next chapter, more little tidbits get revealed, but perhaps not too clearly! And definitely, some bonafide smut, I promise this time. We're going to experience: Hermione's birthday bash!
Till next time!! LOVE YOU ALL!!!