Chapter Two.
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Blaise Zabini was not unused to female attention. In fact, he garnered it wherever he went, which would have been fine, if he wasn't attracted to men and Hermione didn't endure the brunt of other women's jealousy. Shop assistants glared at her when she entered with the attractive Italian and girls on the street whispered behind her back, saying horrible things about her that she pretended not to hear but obviously she did, because he heard them too.
"You know they're just jealous, right?" Blaise asked kindly as he shuffled into the booth opposite his friend in the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione snorted and he shook his head, "No seriously, girls are bitchy. You really shouldn't listen to anything they have to say."
Hermione shook her head as Blaise stood and crossed to the bar to order their drinks and food. She knew that he was most likely correct, but it didn't make it any easier to avoid taking peoples spiteful words to heart. Every time she had been seen in public with Blaise, despite there not being even a hint of a romantic connection between the pair, whispers and gossip had followed them relentlessly. Hermione wasn't blind. She saw how women looked at Blaise and she would find it hilarious, due to his sexuality, if she wasn't on the receiving end of their glares just for being friends with him.
She knew why this happened, of course. Blaise was the first (and only) man that had been seen with Hermione Granger since her brief and disastrous romantic tryst with Ronald Weasley. She knew that people would be interested in whoever it was she ended up connected with but, gossip would always follow here wherever she went and whatever she did, but this all just reminded her of the reason she had created Eloise to start with.
She was craving the annonymity that came with being somebody else. She wanted to dissappear and to blend in to the background, be ignored. The fame that came with being a war heroine had pushed her in this direction before and, well, just look where it had gotten her; in therapy, grieving for a love she would never get back and without her oldest friends. This feeling was dangerous, and she noted that she definitely needed to talk to Julia about it on Monday.
"Here you are lovely!" Blaise trilled, pushing a tankard of Butterbeer in front of her. "What's on that big ol' mind of yours?" he chuckled as he sat opposite her.
"I'm starting to want to be annonymous again." Hermione muttered, taking a sip of her drink and looking up at her friend. "It's how I felt before Eloise. It's a dangerous thing to be thinking."
"I can understand, though." Blaise nodded and she furrowed her brows at him. "Seriously. I can't imagine what it's like to be recognised everywhere you go for something that you had no choice in." Hermione shrugged.
"It's not like I'd change what we did," she told him, "I just wish that people would move on already. It's been 6 years now!"
"Yeah, it has." Blaise nodded in agreement, "But people are grateful. You're the female face of the winning side of the War. People aren't likely to forget that in a hurry."
"I wish they would!" Hermione snorted, "Hey, I don't think I've ever asked you what you did during the war? I know you weren't a Death Eater and I don't think you were with the order... How did you manage to stay neutral?"
"Honestly?" Blaise sighed and she nodded. "My Mum dragged be to Italy before our seventh years would have started." He shrugged. "I didn't come back until after it was over. Cowardly perhaps, but I'm still alive so that counts for something."
Hermione eyed her friend as he quietly sipped his own drink, Firewhiskey she noted, and wondered if she would have left if she had the choice. In his position, she probably would have. If she hadn't been so intrinsically tied to Harry and forced into the middle of it, and if she'd had the money and means to do so, she probably would have hopped on the plane with her parents and never looked back. It was only Harry that tied her so heavily to the War.
"That's not cowardly, honey, that's logical." Hermione told him seriously and he laughed.
"That's what my Mum said." He chuckled, "Said it wasn't our battle to fight and we should get out while we can."
"If I'd have had the means and not had a reason to stay here, I probably would have done the same thing." Hermione shrugged.
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For the first time in as long as she could remember, Hermione found herself in her flat and wanting to make it more homely. As she looked around the blank and empty space, it left her feeling uncomfortable in a way she couldn't recall feeling in it before. There was no sign that this placed belonged to her. No photos or personal objects that defined it as her space. It was strange for Hermione to think that all of this, this entire apartment, had become such an extension of her deception.
Feeling the urge to put her mark on it, somehow, she entered into her spare bedroom and flicked her wand at the wall, smiling when a door suddenly appeared. She had done this, all those years ago, when she had first moved in. It was a way to keep her personal objects without displaying that she had them, keeping them hidden, like so much of her life. Throwing open the door to the previously hidden closet and stepping inside, Hermione kneeled before a cardboard box and pulled open the flaps. She gasped at the first thing she saw inside, smiling softly.
Pulling it out, she held it up in front of her and allowed herself to remember better times with her best friends. The photo she had in her hands had been taken over the summer between their fourth and fifth years, the summer they had spent at Grimmauld Place. She remembered the day this picture was taken, the day that she had discovered herself to be a prefect, and snorted at how important that tiny badge had seemed to them all back then. How angry Harry had felt that Ron had been chosen instead of him, how Ron had received his longed-for brand new broomstick.
The photo was of everybody who had been there that evening, at the impromptu party that Molly had thrown in honour of them being prefects, and in hindsight to celebrate the fact that Harry had not been expelled from Hogwarts for his use of the Patronus charm in Little Whinging. Sirius could be seen winking, like the dog he was, at the camera and Remus was next to him rolling his eyes at his friends antics. Tonk and Mad-Eye were seen talking in the corner of the room and the rest of the group were seen discussing whatever topics had taken their fancy that night.
What drew Hermione's eyes the most though, was herself. She couldn't believe how bright her smile was as she was featured in the middle of the photograph. One arm was flung around the shoulders of each of her best friends, and they were all laughing together over something that Hermione couldn't remember now, though she tried. It felt as though this photo could have been taken in another lifetime. A lifetime without a War that had killed half of the people in this photograph and changed the lives irrevocably of all the others.
Sighing, Hermione was shocked when she felt a lone tear roll down her cheek. Bringing her hand up and swiping it from her face, she put the photo to one side and continued looking through the box. She pulled out an undefinable number of photos, each of which held a specific memory for her and soon she found herself sobbing surrounded by photos of friends and family that she missed more than anything and felt like she would never have the opportunity to get back.
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It was in this position that Blaise discovered her a couple of hours later. He stepped into the room and frowned at the unfamiliar door, before hearing the quiet sniffles that eminated from his friend. Crouching before her, Hermione felt his strong arms encircle her and pull her to him.
"You okay?" He asked quietly, stroking soothing circles on her back, smiling when she nodded against his chest.
"I don't think I can stay in this apartment." She muttered and pulled away from him, wiping her eyes. "I think if I'm going to get better, I need to be away from the things that were around when my life fell apart, you know?"
Blaise nodded and she saw from the corner of his eye as he reached down, picking up a photo of Hermione and her parents. She saw him smile and chuckled wetly as he turned it around to face her. In the photo, Hermione could only be about five or six years old, but she remembered the day clearly. They had been to the funfair, Hermione's first time at such a place, and she had gorged on Candyfloss against their better judgement and then proceeded to take a spin on the Waltzers. Unsurprisingly, she had thrown up all over herself and the poor attendant who had been spinning her car at the time. Her parents had cried with laughter when they had realised what had happened. The evidence of what had occured could clearly be seen all over her white t-shirt in the photo, stained pink and splotchy, but all three of them were smiling widely.
"Can I just say, lovely, you were an adorable little girl." Blaise grinned and Hermione slapped him on the arm before collecting the rest of her memories and boxing them up again. All except the first photo she had found, it would be taking pride of place on her mantelpiece.
"I have an idea." Blaise spoke once they were resituated in her living room, taking sips from glasses of wine.
"Oh? Please indulge me." Hermione teased, grinning.
"I was thinking of looking for a new place as well." Blaise started and Hermione cocked an eyebrow, fully expecting what was to come. "How would you feel about pooling our resources and getting a place together?"
"Is that such a good idea? Considering the gossip?" Hermione chuckled.
The Daily Prophet had been speculating about a romantic connection between the pair ever since Hermione had started being seen with him, but yesterday's edition had just thrown all speculation aside by featuring them on the front cover under the headline 'Granger and Zabini: Love Connection' along with a photo of them at the Leaky Cauldron, holding hands and appearing to gaze adoringly at each other. Neither of them had any idea how they had got the image, as neither had seen anybody hanging around with a camera, but they had been reduced to tears of mirth when they had read the article.
It had described how she was carrying his lovechild and they were at the Leaky Cauldron to plan for their upcoming elopement. It was so off base and ridiculous that Hermione had briefly wondered whether it had been written by Rita Skeeter, but had rolled her eyes to see that it had actually been written by Parvarti Patil. Of course it would be one of the Hogwarts' gossip queens. It made so much sense.
"Oh Hermione my dear!" Blaise exclaimed dramatically dropping to his knees before her and clutching her hand to his chest, "Shall we paint the nursery pink or blue my darling?"
Hermione shrieked with laughter before agreeing to become his roommate - on one condition. That there be no nursery and she got a library instead.