If there was one activity Draco Abraxas Malfoy absolutely despised, it was shopping.
His mother had always bought his suits and robes for him when he was younger, but now that he was out on his own it was up to him to go shopping, and he loathed it. He particularly hated the fact that he was stuck shopping in Diagon Alley, where whispers followed him and witches manoeuvred their children away when he passed. If he wasn't so busy at work then he might have had the chance to pop over to Paris to buy new dress robes, but as it was, Diagon Alley was as far as he could travel.
It was his lunch hour, and the district was swarming with wizards and witches on their break, so he could move fairly freely without worries that he would be snapped by the press. He was hardly an active participant in the wizarding world anymore, but he was an ex-Death Eater, and the papers still loved some form of gossip about him, or ridiculous speculation that he would be the next Dark Lord. Honestly, it was as though they wanted some evil to come back into the perfect world they had all rebuilt.
He managed to slip into Madam Malkin's store, glad to be out of the crowded street, and moved to the dress robes section. The old witch looked up when he entered, giving him a warm smile before returning to her book behind the counter. He ran his fingers carelessly along the male dress robes, testing the quality of fabric. Honestly, as long as he didn't look like Weasley at the Yule Ball, he would be content with his robes. He heard the tinkle of the shop's bell and greetings pass between Madam Malkin and the newcomer and he froze.
He knew that voice.
He could hear the approaching sound of heels on the wooden floorboards, and had the childish urge to hide somewhere, simply to observe the woman who had just entered the store. Damn Madam Malkin grouping the dress robes for both sexes together! The sound of Her approach grew closer as did his urge, but he relented, choosing to politely ignore Her instead. The woman was humming something softly under her breath, the pleasant melody growing louder as she closed in on the back corner of the store.
With his head bowed he feigned a great interest in some navy blue dress robes, nodding thoughtfully as his hand glided over the fabric. The heels stopped, and he couldn't suppress the urge to look.
Granger stood with her back to him, apparently somehow not noticing his hunched over figure. She brushed her hands along the delicate dresses, murmuring something about colours beneath her breath. Her hair was out and wild, unlike the day he had to work with her, and she was dressed in Muggle attire, looking very decent. She would be out of place amongst the robes of Diagon Alley.
"What are you staring at, Malfoy?" her voice snapped and he realized that he had indeed been staring for nigh on a minute. She turned to face him, hands on her hips, a frown plastered on those delectable pink lips. He allowed one more look at her attire, drinking in the form fitting black dress, unbuttoned blue blazer, and black pumps. She had a blue bag slung over her shoulder, and was glaring at him through the lenses of her glasses. "Well?"
"I was simply admiring the display of dress robes behind you, Granger," he drawled and she rolled her eyes. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"I could say the same about you. Are you still working for Harold?" she asked, and he could tell by her tone that she truly didn't care.
"Yes. After all, it's only been a few weeks. That man is in love with you," Draco remarked, turning his back on her to resume perusing the robes.
"He is not. We're just friends, that's all," she was defensive and mimicked his stance.
"Which is obviously why he's hated me ever since you left. He was completely fine with me until you blew up and quit," he stated matter-of-factly, and he could practically hear her roll her eyes.
"You're ridiculous. Anyway, why are you here?"
"I don't need to explain myself to you, but if you must know I'm searching for dress robes for the Ministry's blasted charity ball," he muttered, withdrawing a pair of dark green robes. Very Slytherin.
She made a noise to let him know she had heard his comment but said nothing. The silence they lapsed into was very uncomfortable, and Draco could feel the tension in the air, both magical and something else. The air between them seemed to crackle whenever they moved around each other, and he was all too grateful when she left without a backwards glance. He released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. How strange. He'd just had a conversation with Hermione Granger without a single insult being hurled. Of course, the conversation had been forced and wasn't necessarily pleasant, but at least it was civil.
He shook his head in despair at the dress robes and turned on the spot, apparating directly from the shop.
Hermione simply couldn't stand the tension any longer. She turned sharply on her heel and hurried from the store, determined not to turn back and face him. He was so goddamn smug! If Madam Malkin wasn't there she was certain she would have hexed him. And then there had been that bizarre aura which had hovered in the air between them. The tension in that little space had been unbearable, and she was pleased to be out under the late August sun.
The weather was warm and her clothing absorbed the heat. She tilted her head up to let the sun wash over her face as she walked the familiar path back to the library. A slight breeze was blowing, ruffling her tangled curls gently as she walked beneath the midday sun. The street was crowded with people doing last minute shopping prior to the younger wizards and witches returning to school, so she managed to remain unnoticed on her return to her workplace.
Three weeks had passed since her reemployment in the wizarding world, and she had slipped easily into a routine, though she still dressed in Muggle clothing, despite her now vast wardrobe of wizarding attire. Her days were spent sorting through piles of books and reorganizing them, and she had never been happier with her choice of work. She spent her evenings at home, pouring over old books she'd never even heard of before her work at the library, or with Harry and Ginny. Occasionally Ron would stop by when she was at Harry's, but the air between them was awkward so the redhead would often leave soon after his arrival.
Truthfully, she didn't blame him for their relationship failing, and she knew he didn't blame her. Their moment of romance during the Battle of Hogwarts had just been a fleeting second of passion, a possible sign that there was still good in the world despite the warring around them. They had gotten together following that because it was what everyone expected, and then they had fallen into such a routine that had been shaken up when she couldn't carry a child. It just was never going to last forever for them. But that didn't mean seeing him, especially now that he was once again engaged and soon to be a father, wasn't awkward.
The library was pleasantly cool when she stepped inside, and she moved back to her desk which was absolutely covered in scraps of parchment, quills, and, of course, books. Not a single part of the dark oak wood was visible beneath the materials she had scattered across the desk, and she nestled herself back in her chair, absorbing herself once more in her work.
The rest of the afternoon went by quickly, and she left at five with a quick farewell to Lucinda who was communicating with her aunt at Hogwarts about loaning books between the two libraries. Hermione was visiting Harry and Ginny again, but this time Molly and Arthur would be attending, along with Bill and Fleur with their little girl, Victoire. Having not seen her ex-in-laws for a few years, she was quite reasonably nervous, and wanted a chance to make herself look much more presentable before greeting them again.
She flooed from the library to her home, disturbing Altheda who stalked out of the room. The cat was not happy with Hermione's return to work and thus lack of attention. Sighing at the disgruntled feline, Hermione moved towards her ensuite bathroom, shedding her work clothes in the process. She let the hot water of the shower relax her, and she realized just how tense her meeting with Malfoy had made her. She stepped from the cubicle twenty minutes later, thoroughly cleansed, and wrapped a fluffy white towel around herself and moving back to her bedroom.
Half an hour later she was dressed in a sleek black dress, a delicate silver necklace hung around her neck, and her feet were enclosed in a pair of dark purple flats. She chose to simply let her curly hair dry naturally from the shower and snatched a silver clutch out of her wardrobe. Altheda mewed loudly at her as she passed, and the witch bent down to kiss her cat on the head and scratch her ears.
"I'll be back later, baby. There's food in your bowl and you can sleep on my bed," Hermione murmured, listening to the contented purring of her pet. As a final touch she put on some pink lipstick, black eyeliner and mascara, and then turned on the spot, feeling the horrible feeling of apparition.
She appeared in the little square just outside Harry and Ginny's house, and she looked around hastily to ensure she hadn't been seen by any Muggles. When she was sure the Statute of Secrecy hadn't been broken by her carelessness, she smoothed out her dress and took a deep breath before walking to the front door of the house. She rapped on the door three times and waited for a moment until the door was pulled open by Harry.
Harry's black hair was still as scruffy as ever, and his emerald eyes twinkled with delight at her arrival. She embraced her oldest friend warmly and allowed him to lead her into the house with a hand on the small of her back.
"Now, don't be mad," Harry began, "but Gin-"
"SURPRISE!"
Hermione struggled to contain a scream as all of her old friends from the wizarding world called out. They were all gathered in the living room of the old house, which had been magically expanded by the looks of it, and they were all wearing broad smiles. From where she was standing she could see Luna, with her husband Rolf Scamander, Neville, holding hands with his wife Hannah Abbot, Dean Thomas with his arm around Pavarti Patil, Seamus Finnegan with Padma Patil, and all of the Weasley family. Ginny broke free of the crowd first, holding a gurgling James, and gave Hermione a one armed hug.
"Gin, what is all of this?" the brunette witch asked, baffled as she looked around at all of the smiling faces in the room.
"Well, Mum thought that seeing as you haven't seen any of your old friends since you left, we could throw you a bit of a surprise party! So we made a few calls, and here everyone is. I hope you don't mind," Ginny smiled, and Hermione just beamed back at her.
"Have I ever told you that you're incredible?"
"Not often enough," Ginny pouted jokingly. "Go on, go and say hello to everyone!"
Hermione made her way over to Neville first, who was conversing with Luna about a particular type of rare magical flower that sung at the full moon. The two broke apart when Hermione reached them, each embracing her in turn. They caught up quickly, talking for about fifteen minutes before Hermione moved on to mingle with others.
"Ah, my fiery little Gryffindor! My git of a brother hasn't been giving you any trouble, has he?" George Weasley asked, slinging an arm over her shoulder. He was holding hands with Angelina Johnson, whom he had married following the war, and she was looking fondly at their son who played with his cousin, Victoire Weasley.
"George! I haven't seen you in ages," Hermione grinned and he winked at her. "I haven't seen Ron since Lavender Brown published that ghastly article in the paper a few weeks ago. She's been hounding me with owls ever since. How are you? How's Fred?"
"We're all good. Fred's as much of a troublemaker as I was when I was his age, and he's been getting along really well with Victoire. It's good to know that he'll always have a good group of cousins as friends," George grinned. Hermione felt a pang of sadness at the memory of his twin, and swallowed thickly to get rid of the lump that formed in her throat.
She farewelled the surviving twin, promising they would catch up later, and moved over to where Bill and Fleur were. Fleur was glowing with her second pregnancy, and once again her beauty seemed to radiate through onto others, entirely hiding Bill's scars from his altercation with Fenrir Greyback. Fleur swooped over and kissed Hermione's cheeks quickly and Bill gave her a quick hug.
Following Hermione's miscarriages, Fleur had been quite comforting towards the younger witch, and though the two weren't quite friends, they did have a bond.
"Fleur, you look wonderful," Hermione smiled, and indeed the part-Veela did. She was draped in an elegant light blue dress, the front of which ballooned out with her enlarged stomach. The trio chattered for a while before Hermione moved on once more. She hadn't exactly had a chance to have a heart to heart with anyone, but the general catch-ups had been nice. She was heading towards the kitchen of Grimmauld Place to grab a drink when she felt someone seize her hand.
"Well, Miss Hermione, you are looking absolutely delectable this evening," said a deep voice, and she whirled around to face Charlie Weasley who was giving her a lopsided grin.
"Charlie!" she all but jumped into his arms and he chuckled, wrapping his own muscular arms around her frame.
Following the war and prior to her marriage to Ron, Hermione had grown quite close to Charlie. After Fred's death he had remained in Britain for a while longer, and the two got on quite well. Hermione loved the fact that she could have an informed discussion with him about all sorts of things with the atmosphere still relaxed, and if she was being honest, Charlie was one of the people she missed the most when she was living in the Muggle world.
"What are you doing back in England?" she asked when they had separated, walking to the kitchen together where they each grabbed a butterbeer and sat at the table.
"Coming back to visit you, of course! And Kingsley invited me to that Ministry ball, and Ginny is practically forcing me to go," he frowned at the latter part. "I take it you'll be going?"
"I got my invitation yesterday, and I'm expected there, so I'll be there. I just need to find a dress," she grimaced and he laughed.
"I'm sure it won't be that difficult for you to find a dress, Hermione," he pointed out. "You tend to look stunning in anything," he added with a wink and she blushed. "So, all you need is a dress? Who's your date then?"
She suppressed a smile at the hint of jealousy in his tone. "I'm not going with anyone, Charlie. I don't have anyone to go with," she shrugged, and relief flashed across his features.
"Well then, in that case, Miss Granger, would you care to attend the upcoming Ministry Charity Ball with me?" Charlie placed on a posh accent and she couldn't help but laugh. Merlin, she had missed Charlie.
"Why of course, Mister Weasley. It would be my honour," she chuckled and he grinned.
"Excellent! I'll look forward to it. Now, if you don't mind, I need to talk to Luna about an apparent new breed of dragon. Good evening, m'lady," he kissed her hand and winked, leaving a laughing Hermione by herself in the kitchen.
She was soon joined by Harry who sat beside her with a firewhiskey.
"Hey, Hermione. Enjoying the party?" her best friend asked, leaning back in his chair.
"It's brilliant. I owe you and Ginny big time for this," she smiled and he dismissed the compliment with a wave of his hand.
"You seemed to be getting pretty close with Charlie," he joked and she rolled her eyes.
"We're just friends, Harry," she said, ignoring the fact that she was lying a little bit. No matter what she told herself, there was still some delicious sexual tension between her and the older Weasley.
"I know, I'm just teasing. You're so easy to rile up sometimes," he grinned and she couldn't help but smile back. "I better get back to the party. I think dinner will be ready soon. A little bit of a stand-up affair according to Ginny, so you might want to rest your feet for a little bit longer before the food comes out."
Harry left with a wave and Hermione sat for a moment longer before returning to the party. George had put some music on and was twirling Angelina around a makeshift dance floor. Bill had scooped Victoire into his arms and was dancing around with the silvery haired beauty who was laughing loudly as her father moved wildly. Fleur watched on fondly, rubbing her swollen stomach. Luna and Rolf were doing some bizarre dance as well, and Hermione was distinctly reminded of a mating ritual that a certain type of bird went through, something she had seen in a documentary once upon a time.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Hermione heard Ginny call out, and the music cut abruptly. George groaned. "Shut it, George," the young Weasley joked. "Dinner is served!"
Every table was now laden with food and as if on cue, all the males immediately swarmed towards the plates. Hermione hung back, leaning against the wall as she watched her friends, the people who were like her family, all gathered together in the one room, and she realized that she truly was home.
A/N: I'm going through a bit of a rough time at the moment, so I don't know when the next chapter will be out. Hopefully I'll just be able to curl up by myself this weekend and work everything out and work on another chapter, but we'll see.
Once again, thank you so much to all of my reviewers. You mean the world to me.