Hermione stared desperately at her menu, the words a blur. What was she doing here? Why had she agreed to go on a date…with a Slytherin, no less? She swallowed heavily. The restaurant felt too small and hot. Her heart pounded. She felt as though everyone was staring at her. She glanced down at her glamoured arm. Though she couldn't see the scarring, she could feel it every time she ran her fingers over the glamour. Mudblood.
"Champagne?" a tuxedoed waiter appeared out of thin air.
"Please," Blaise said graciously.
Hermione watched as the frothy bubbles filled her glass. The waiter bowed and disappeared.
"Hermione?" Blaise asked in concern. "Are you okay?"
"Oh, yes," she said, taking a rather large gulp of the champagne. The bubbles tickled her throat. "I'm splendid. Thanks for asking."
Blaise raised an elegant dark brow, but before he could reply, another waiter appeared to take their orders.
"I'll have the beef tenderloin, stuffed with lobster and chanterelle mushrooms, medium well."
The waiter nodded, turning to Hermione.
"I-I'll have the same," she said. The waiter scribbled the order down and accepted their menus before hurrying away.
Blaise stared at Hermione, his caramel-colored eyes intense. "You look beautiful."
Hermione had spent over an hour getting ready. She had donned a silver sundress with matching strappy silver sandals. Her hair was loosely piled atop her head, a few stray golden-brown curls falling along her face. She had even swiped on a few coats of mascara and some pale pink gloss on her lips.
"Thank you," she said, fiddling with her napkin awkwardly. Her fingers traced her scarring lightly.
"So…" Blaise took a sip of his champagne, his eyes never leaving her.
"So?" Hermione tried breathing evenly.
"Tell me what the great Hermione Granger has been up to since Hogwarts. Cured lycanthropy yet? Campaigning to be the first female Minister of Magic? Discovered any revolutionary new spells?"
She blushed, looking down. "No," she said in a small voice. "I've just been…waiting."
Blaise frowned. "For what?"
"I wasn't sure what I wanted to do," she explained, still staring down. "I didn't even complete my last year at Hogwarts because…well, you know. They gave me my diploma still, but I guess I felt as though I failed for not completing school."
Blaise nodded sympathetically. "Do you know now what career you want to pursue?"
"I'm going to teach at Hogwarts starting next term."
He grinned at her, and she blinked, taken aback. He was always handsome, but the way he was grinning now, so roguishly, was breath-taking.
"Professor Granger," he chortled, taking another sip. "How suiting. You'll be fantastic at it."
Hermione blushed. "Thank you." She lifted her glass.
"So what's going on with you and Draco?"
She promptly choked on her champagne. "Malfoy?" she spluttered. "Nothing. Why?"
"Oh," Blaise said casually, "I was just curious. I mean, you two aren't exactly friends, right? He was pretty nasty to you during our school days."
"No," Hermione said forcefully. "We aren't friends. We aren't anything."
"Good," her date said, leaning forward over the small table. "Because he's a good mate of mine, and I wouldn't want to step on his toes here."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, biting her lip. Blaise's eyes followed her teeth.
"Merlin," he breathed, "You're something else, you know? So innocent."
She looked away. "Not really."
Blaise laughed. "It was a compliment, love. Anyway, you wouldn't want Draco even if he did fancy you, what with all the baggage he has."
"Baggage?"
"Yeah, he's got a kid, you know? A little boy."
Hermione nodded. "Yes, he mentioned that. Scorpius?"
A look of surprise crossed Blaise's face. "He told you?"
She nodded again uncomfortably. "Yes. Why?"
Blaise shrugged. "He just usually doesn't tell women about his son."
"Women?" Hermione said, brow furrowed. "Hasn't he been single for four years? I mean, it said…in Witch Weekly…" She trailed off, her cheeks burning.
"Single?" Blaise snorted. "He doesn't date, if that's what you mean. He brings home a string of girls, plays with them for a few nights and then discards them. He hasn't had a proper girlfriend since Pansy at Hogwarts."
Hermione tried to pretend this news didn't affect her. "Is Pansy Scorpius's mother, then?"
Blaise threw back his head and laughed. "Merlin, no!" He chuckled for a bit before continuing. "We don't know who the kid's mum is. Draco refuses to talk about it, just says it was a one-night stand type of deal. Poor bastard. One night of pleasure that quickly turned into a ball and chain for the next seventeen years."
Hermione frowned. "I thought he enjoyed having the baby around?"
Blaise shrugged again. "I wouldn't know, he never had it around when we are over."
Before Hermione could respond, their food arrived and they began to eat. It was actually quite good, but Hermione's stomach was still so jumpy she could only manage a few bites. The rest of dinner went by quickly, and they decided to take an after-supper stroll before heading home.
The night was cool and breezy, the stars vibrant in the sky. Hermione and Blaise walked side by side companionably in silence. Hermione was still nervous, casting occasional look at her date's face. Blaise's cheekbones were sharp in the moonlight, his lips lush and full. He had long silky dark eyelashes that she as a girl envied. She swallowed, and Blaise cast a side-long look at her.
"Cold?" he murmured, his warm hand brushing lightly over her bare shoulder.
Hermione shook her head wordlessly.
"You've got goosebumps," he whispered, sliding his thumb down her arm. Abruptly, she jerked away.
"Thank you for dinner, but I really must be going," she said, her throat dry. Blaise looked surprised.
"Oh. Well, shall I walk you?"
"No, no," Hermione said hurriedly. "No. Thank you. It was a lovely night. Thanks."
She smiled briefly at him and hurried away, leaving him standing on the sidewalk, an inscrutable expression on his face.
…..
Hermione gently closed the front door behind her, locking and warding it. Crookshanks slunk up and meowed at her, weaving between her legs. She bent and gave him a quick stroke before tossing her purse on the couch and going to the kitchen. She felt she could really use a stiff drink.
She opened her fridge, the blast of artificially chilled air engulfing her. She closed her eyes, letting the cold seep across her skin. A low hoot brought her back. She looked over her shoulder. A dark eagle owl as perched on her kitchen table, his golden eyes reproachful.
"Oh," she said in surprise. "Have you been waiting long?"
The owl clicked his beak, looking away haughtily. She walked over and untied the scrolled-up parchment from his legs. With a toss of his head, the owl shook himself before flying out of the open kitchen window into the night.
Hermione stared at the familiar spiky scrawl as she unrolled the letter. Her pulse began to beat wildly as her amber eyes scanned the brief message.
"My object then was to show you, by every civility in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes introduced themselves I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half an hour after I had seen you.
Hermione, I'll be at your flat tomorrow night at 8:00 pm. Be home.
-Draco Malfoy"
She read the letter twice, focusing on the passage he had chosen. It was clear enough that he was apologizing for his behavior toward her for the past sixteen years. She bit her lip. He was coming here, to her meager flat? She glanced around. It was tidy but rather small and her up-bringing allowed her to have several muggle conveniences, like a television and electrical lights. What would the great pureblooded Draco Malfoy want to come here for? Would his ice-blue eyes flash in disdain? Would he judge her?
She hesitated, torn. Then, before she could regret her decision, she opened a drawer and got parchment and a quill.
"' I will be home at 8:00 pm tomorrow.
-Hermione Granger"
Whistling to Moxie, she attached the letter to her leg.
"Malfoy Manor," she said softly, stroking the tawny feathers. The owl blinked and nipped her affectionately before soaring out the window. Hermione sat down and the table, emotionally exhausted. First Blaise and now Draco. What was going on here?
She slumped down, burying her face in her arms. When did life get so confusing?