The dress was too tight. Too tight and too short. Hermione glanced over at Ginny who was finishing her hair in the mirror and clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. It was a signal of clear disapproval for the curly-haired woman. That made the redhead pinch her lips together to avoid smiling. "Don't give me that look, Hermione," Ginny said, flipping her freshly curled hair over her shoulder.
"Gin, I can't wear this," she declared quietly with a nod while reviewing her own makeup.
"You can and you will. What better way to show my brother he's the idiot, who married Lavender Brown instead of you, than to show up and get hit on by old classmates," she retorted with a sharp pivot of her body.
Hermione ran fingers over her neck and let her head swivel before acknowledging herself in the mirror fully. It was a beautiful violet dress with this skin-tight form. Her chest was practically begging to be thrown out of the fabric but was confounded by the straps that ran up and behind her neckline. The wild curls she hardly could tame were in an elaborate clip that helped them cascade in fluid motion behind her.
"I do look pretty decent. I haven't prettied myself up in some time. Between work and Teddy, I usually contemplate jeans and t-shirts." She murmured finally, and Ginny beamed.
"Think of it as a 'not looking back,' type night. Don't you think it is about time you did something for yourself?" she asked Hermione, who snorted unattractively.
"Yes, doing something for myself. Like I need it. Come on, Harry must be positively twitchy from waiting. I cannot believe you both decided on old jerseys."
Ginny rolled her eyes, running her hands over the old uniform. "We were on the football team together. I am quite sure each one of the players is going to come in their jerseys."
"Ten years. Well, hopefully, most of them still have their smelly old uniforms," Hermione teased with a small smile.
"Ha. Ha. So funny," Ginny's voice was full of sarcasm as they left the bathroom and prepared for the evening ahead.
The music was so loud it was god awful. They actually listened to this rubbish back then? Hermione was desperately seeking solace from the loud booming when she found a nice corner of the bar. She thought this party was going to be more exquisite and it turned out to be an utter bust.
"What are you havin', Miss?" The question from the bartender interrupted her thoughts.
"Martini, dirty please," Hermione murmured, and the young man went to work.
"Dirty, please? My god that sounds delicious!" a familiar voice sounded over the music.
Hermione turned to see a menace. "Zabini, please leave me alone," Hermione groaned, and he approached with a broad smile.
The dark man gave her a once over before sitting on the stool next to her. "Is that you Granger? Hell has frozen over and made you its queen," he teased with a wicked smirk.
The martini slid in front of her, and she placed a few notes down for the bartender. "Thank you," she declared before turning to the relentless man. "Why haven't you left yet?" she questioned before sipping her drink.
"I wasn't joking, you look absolutely delicious," he smirked, and she rolled her eyes.
"Where is your Royal Runt team, Zabini?" Hermione said with an arched eyebrow.
Blaise frowned and slid his empty bottle on the counter. "Another," he ordered. "They are around I suppose. Malfoy might even show up tonight if he isn't pouting."
The woman sighed heavily after taking another sip. "Go find someone else to spend your time with. I am in no mood."
As if fate would be so cruel, Ron Weasley and Lavender were walking her way. Hermione internally swore, and Blaise caught her gaze. "Oh, Weasley and his little flower. We always thought you two would get together and have babies by the litter." He told her, and she stuck her nose further in the air.
"Please for the love of god, go away, Zabini," she hissed as he leaned closer to her. "I really don't want to attract their attention. I have had a bad day and don't need your help to make it worse."
"Hermione, that you?" Ron asked, and Hermione exhaled slowly.
"Hello, Ronald. Hello, Lavender. I hope you are doing well tonight," she said politely as they stood in front of her.
"Zabini," Ron said tightly as Blaise took his fresh beer from the counter and swigged it. "Harry told me that you got sacked today. What happened?" Ron inquired, and Lavender made a face.
Hermione was now the color of cherries, but in the dim light, she was almost plum. "Not the time and place to talk about I am afraid," Hermione said tersely, and the former Anguis slanted his head.
"Oi, what did you do for a profession, Granger? Wasn't it helping run that old news company?" Zabini questioned, and Hermione sighed.
"Yes, it was," she responded.
"Well, now you can see about working with the twins," Lavender said with a smile, which Hermione hated.
"No, I will be fine. Cedric said his dad was looking for a PA. I might do that in the meantime until I can situate myself. Taking care of Teddy is the most important thing right now," Hermione murmured, and Blaise shook a finger at her.
"I might have something for you, Granger," he said, and Ron scoffed.
"She isn't going to work for you, Zabini. We know what company you keep," Ron sneered, and Lavender nodded.
"You Anguises are all the same. You would get her to do something horrible. Lie to her or cheat her out of money," the Weasley's wife declared, and Ron motioned agreement.
Blaise snorted after taking a large swig of his beer. "Better than moronic Gryphems. We plot, not hack until we strike gold, Weasley."
Hermione pinched her brow together at Blaise. "What's the job?" Hermione asked, and the darker man grinned.
"EA," he said simply.
Hermione arched an eyebrow, and her head slanted. "What's the pay?"
Zabini leaned closer to her, and his smile grew lopsided. "A lot. More than you probably made before."
"What's the catch?" Hermione retorted, and Ron grew flustered.
"You can't be serious, Hermione!" He shouted, and Lavender glowered at the woman.
Blaise turned only to drink his beer before answering. "Well, you have to be absolutely flawless. Everything has to be put back the way it was every day you leave. Your would-be boss is a bit of a wanker, but nothing you cannot handle if I remember correctly."
Hermione bristled and huffed. "And what is this company I would supposedly be working for?"
"Hermione, just walk away with us, it isn't a real job. He is yanking your dress," Ron responded.
"Come on Mione, don't let him kick you when you are down," Lavender declared, and Hermione finished her martini.
"Excuse me, but I am having a job interview here," Blaise retorted and gave them a motion of dismissal. "Electronics. That business is booming... if you last long enough, it would be hellva item to add to your resumé," He told her and smirked. "I would be working closely with your boss, so, I could keep him in line if you are good enough."
Hermione shifted her leg over the other before motioning to the bartender for another. "Tell me who my employer would be, Zabini," she said with a warning tone.
"Black Industries," He murmured, and Hermione recoiled.
"I am not- will never- under any circumstance work for the Malfoys," Hermione snapped and snatched her drink off the counter. "Have a good evening," she finished and moved to leave.
Ron gave a single nod before glaring at Blaise. "Fuck off, Zabini," he declared, and Lavender took his arm in hand.
Hermione was a couple of strides away from him. "I will double what I offered the last one," he shouted, and the woman stopped.
She pivoted her body and glared. "Double? In what planet do you think I live in? Lucius is a cad," Hermione spat and gestured her disinterest.
"Lucius is dead," Blaise responded, causing her to freeze.
"Dead?" her voice was softer, and Zabini nodded slowly.
"He died four years ago. Car crash. It left Draco incapacitated," he responded, and Hermione shifted her posture.
"Incapacitated how?"
Blaise exhaled and scrubbed his face. "Granger, he is blind. Hasn't been able to see in four years. He is trying desperately to retain the company that his family helped grow."
Ron was behind Hermione and trying to help her decide; he did not want her to linger on the idea any longer. "Ronald, I will be along in a moment. Go dance with your wife," Hermione dismissed him, and the redhead stomped off with Lavender in tow.
Blaise rubbed the back of his neck. "Are you still interested?" He asked her seriously.
Hermione exhaled, and her face grew pinched. "If I find out this is a lie, or you are setting me up, I am suing you for damages, Zabini." She said with a finger pointed at him.
He bobbed his head. "So, you are in?"
She folded her arms over her chest, minding her drink. "Yes, but I expect this to all be official business. I am not someone's nanny."
"Of course, Granger. Lives are on the line," he paused and pulled out his card. "Give me a call this week and we will set up a few things at the office before you meet with Draco. There are things you will need to know that he does not have the chance to see without his sight."
"Meet with Draco Malfoy, of all the bloody ridiculous things," Hermione grumbled and shoved his card in her bag.
Blaise put a hand on her bare shoulder. "Trust me, Granger. You are the last person he would want to work with either, but we are running out of options, and you need a job."
"I am not going to be at his beck and call, Zabini, I mean it. I am there to work. I have a son that needs me," Hermione said with a stern tone, and he motioned agreement.
"Of course and he will be made aware of that when everything is official."
"Good," she murmured and her arms dropped. "I will call you on Monday," she replied, and he released her.
"Have a good evening and try to have some fun," Blaise said with a wide smile, and she nodded.
Sipping her martini, she walked off and gazed down at the liquid. Did someone drug her, or did she just agree to work for Draco bloody Malfoy? Teddy. Just remember it is for Teddy she kept telling herself as her stomach turned. Eventually, she found Harry who was listening to Ron rant, which was not going to be a conversation she wanted to join. Hermione decided instead to set her empty glass down and walk the former halls of her childhood.
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
Draco Malfoy grabbed the nearest item and threw it on the floor. "I said, get the bloody fuck out!" He shouted and heard the blood rushing in his head.
"Draco, I just-" her voice was shaky and frightened on the air. "Please?"
"I don't care what the fuck you want. You slept with a Weasley!" He spat sharply and rubbed his face.
He didn't remember what Astoria looked like. He had glimpses in his mind of her features, but after her admission, he was glad he couldn't remember. The man would hate to have to envision her wrapped around one of the twin Weasley's waists. It was hard enough to stomach that she waited a week to tell him.
"Draco," she tried to start again, and he thumped his cane on the ground.
"Ramsey!" He hollered and heard the pristine shuffle of his butler's feet on the plush rug.
Astoria was starting to sob, and he could hear her sniffling. "Yes, Master Malfoy?" Ramsey asked.
"Please escort Miss Greengrass to my room and kindly assist in packing up her shit."
Astoria choked on her cries. "Please, Draco. It was only just once. We were sloshed, and he kept telling me how beautiful I looked," she insisted, but he could hear the gasp at the end of her statement. "I didn't mean like that."
Draco waved his hand and turned back to the mantle he knew was there. His hand caressed the wood, and he bit down his sadness. "Just go. Leave me alone. You have others to tell you about your beauty which I cannot. Leave," he ordered, and her small feet thumped on the carpet as she ran from the room with her sobbing loud in the hall.
"Master Malfoy, would you like me to clean up your mother's vase before she comes in?" Ramsey offered, and Draco waved him off.
He had heard his mother entering the room long before she spoke. "Well, my son, never uneventful." She murmured as the butler's footfalls faded from the hall.
"Six years. We were together for six years, and I can't remember her face." He sighed and slammed his hand against the mantle.
"Maybe there is a reason you two never wed?" she offered, and he could hear her starting to pick up the broken pieces of her vase.
"I am sorry I broke that. I will replace it mother," he said, and she exhaled.
"It was an ugly thing. I only bought it because it reminded me of Hogwarts," she exhaled, and he snorted.
"We never got married because I didn't want her to feel like she had to marry a cripple, mother," he murmured and turned.
"Careful of the glass, Draco," she warned him, and he jutted his cane along the floor.
He soon found the armchair and plopped down. Draco heard his mother stand and walk across the room, but soon came back to where he assumed the broken vase was. A metallic sound entered the space as she placed the broken pieces in the bin. "Don't worry, I will put it back," she declared.
He assumed his scowl was very readable from where she was. "I am not worried. You are worse than I," he reminded her, and she laughed lightly.
"I am glad you did not grab your father's glass skulls. Those would have possibly broken the stonework in the floor," Narcissa teased, and Draco smirked.
"I am quite the monster," he paused and tilted his head. "Did you know she cheated on me with a Weasley of all people?" he asked, accusation in his voice.
His mother scoffed, and he heard her moving across the room again. "I am sorry, but I can hardly say that is a step in any proper direction, Draco," she responded, and he heard her set down the bin.
Her dress ruffled against furniture of some sort, and he heard the clinking of glass. "Well, it wasn't my choice."
He smelt the liquor before the glass even landed on the nearby side table. "No, it wasn't. I brought you a drink for your pain. You should also let me check your scrape, darling," she murmured, and Draco tossed a hand noncommittally.
"It will mend. Don't mind me; I am just going to drink and read for a while before bed."
"Which book?" she questioned, and he heard her crossing the room.
"The one about the witch and the prince she cursed into being a dog," he told her quietly.
Narcissa set the book down on his lap and kissed his forehead. "Good night, Draco. Things will be better in the morning, I promise."
She moved and was almost out of the room before he hemmed. "You always tell me that mother. It's a load of ballocks," he grumbled, and she exhaled loudly.
"And you always tell me that, Draco. Good night," she replied, and he heard her heels clicking further and further from him.
The only sounds he could hear was the far-off ticking of the clock. Drinking a large gulp of his glass, he flipped the book open and started to run his fingers over the brail. It was the only time he could enjoy something he had not seen in his life. Dragons, knights, witches and even occasionally a princess to boot. It was an escape from his life of endless darkness.