"Pansy Naomi Parkinson, what the hell is this?"
Everyone looks annoyed but no one seems alarmed – aside from her – so Hermione must conclude that Malfoy isn't in any sort of danger. They aren't rescuing him from anything. They don't need help. Which can only mean he's like this on purpose.
Still aggravated, Pansy whirls on her next, as if any of this is Hermione's doing. "Ugh, don't use my full name. This is a good thing. Sorry for the entrance, but this is good."
"'Good?'" she repeats in disbelief, her eyebrows sky-high. "What happened to him?"
Hermione moves to approach the chair, raising her wand. He looks stupefied and she prepares to rennervate him.
"Wait!" Blaise leaps in front of her and she jumps backwards, nearly hitting a side table. "We need to explain before you wake him up."
"…did you kidnap him?" she asks suspiciously, peering around Blaise to inspect Malfoy closer.
"Sort of," Pansy sighs. "This is why they weren't supposed to be here yet," she grits out, glaring at Theo, who raises both hands in a gesture of surrender. "Let's sit for a minute, Hermione."
Grudgingly, Hermione takes a seat. It irks her to be told to sit in her own living room, but of the various things irking her at the moment, it doesn't register. Her eyes run over Malfoy as Pansy also sits. His head droops, his chin nearly touching his chest. His white-blonde hair is dangling in his eyes.
He's held in place with a gigantic tie around the middle. One of them – Hermione has to assume Pansy – tied it in a ridiculously large decorative bow, like he's a present delivered right to her.
Things are starting to fall into place as her shock subsides and she narrows her eyes at Pansy again. "Explain."
Before Pansy can, Theo cuts in. "We're really sorry, Hermione. I know it's already obvious this isn't how we meant for it to start, but we really are sorry."
She lifts an eyebrow at him, reserving judgment, and decides to put him on the spot instead. "What are you sorry for?"
Theo stops short, his mouth open. Blaise chimes in next.
"Well, this, clearly," he gestures blandly at Malfoy, head hanging limp on his chest. "Landing in your flat like this. But also… that we took you out. Theo and me. We weren't trying to lead you on or do anything – anything –"
But now he stops, too, and every word Hermione can think of to complete the sentence is exactly how it sounds. Manipulative? Shady? Dishonest? Fucking weird?
Blaise starts to speak again but Hermione notices a hell of a black eye on his far side. How had she not noticed? She squints at him, concerned. "Are you okay?"
He waves her scrutiny off. "It's fine. It was worse a few days ago."
Dimly, she thinks how she hasn't seen Blaise since they'd gone out. Before she can muddle over this further, he starts back up again, changing tactics. "We thought we could maybe force his hand."
"That won't make any sense yet," Theo cut in, shooing Blaise to the side. Blaise glares at him and crosses his arms over his chest, preparing to defend his position. "See, Hermione, Malfoy is just -"
"Both of you stop," she interrupts, shushing them both. "Pansy. You were supposed to be here first to explain. Explain."
Her friend takes in a deep breath as if she needs the stabilisation. She smooths down her skirt, then her hair. Although her hair does need it, Hermione recognises this as a nervous tic of Pansy's.
"Let me talk though, alright? Let me – us – get this out and then we'll answer any questions you have. Okay?"
Hermione nods but isn't too worried about holding up her end of the bargain. She'll ask what she likes.
"Draco has always had a thing for you. A big thing, a major thing. It goes back years."
Hermione's managed to put together that the 'friend' Pansy spoke of, the 'shy' one with the situation that would require 'delicacy,' the one they were going to be meeting today, must be Malfoy. She's gotten that far on her own. She says nothing but gives Pansy a sceptical look.
Theo contributes from behind her, "He has. It's insufferable, actually."
Blaise's words from the previous weekend come back to Hermione now. Malfoy was moody, stubborn. They were going to be trying a new angle since their attempts at persuasion, coercion, or anything else hadn't been working. And Blaise had declined to share what that pertained to. A 'blitz attack', he'd called it.
Indeed. She takes another critical look at the unconscious Malfoy, trussed up in a chair with a gigantic bow around his middle. He looks younger sitting there, his hair in his eyes. He wears it different than he did in school, with less product. It has a bit of casual wave to it.
She glances back at Pansy, who seems to be gaining courage. "It's reached a breaking point. We can't take it anymore. Draco won't take a chance, but he also won't do anything to try and move on. He won't date anybody else. You're the only witch he wants but he won't do a bloody thing about it, even now that you're single."
"He was convinced that you won't date a colleague -" Theo broke in, sounding aggrieved, "so we had to prove him wrong."
Ah. She gives Theo a dark look and he flinches slightly. "Sorry, again, about that. But that took out the argument that you wouldn't date someone from our general friend group, either. Two birds and all that."
"Now his excuse is that you just won't want to date him," said Pansy, and gives Hermione a loaded stare. She isn't certain but she thinks it's Pansy's way of politely, silently inferring that Hermione dates pretty much anyone, anywhere these days – so she might as well give Malfoy a shot.
Taking advantage of a momentary verbal gap, Hermione turns on Blaise sternly. "And you? What do you have to say about this? We were publicly at the pub together and you still took me out the next night."
Blaise shifts uncomfortably and Hermione thinks this might be where the black eye comes into play. "Well, like I said, we were hoping to force his hand. He saw you and Theo walk out together the other week. He saw you and I at the pub. We were hoping to… provoke him."
"It looks like you did," Hermione points out and Blaise gives a rueful nod.
"Not the way we hoped, though. He still wasn't going to do anything about it. He was super hacked off with us for taking you out, violating sacred bonds of brotherhood and such, but all he'd say after was that he wanted you to be happy."
"This is the most hare-brained scheme I've ever heard," she says flatly. "Pansy, did you think this would work?"
Plainly awkward, Pansy fiddles with her hair. "So far, it hasn't not worked," she says at last, exchanging looks with the two conscious wizards.
That stops Hermione short. She supposes it hasn't.
"He really hasn't dated anyone this whole time?"
Pansy and Blaise both start to talk, and Blaise defers. "Well, he has. But never seriously. It's like he chooses witches he knows he won't be interested in for long, or for the long term. Sometimes it's seemed like passing the time, or something to do… but never for long."
"Sometimes it's to shut us up," Theo offers helpfully, "when we set him up with someone. We've tried everything."
For the first time, Hermione truly considers what it took for them to get Malfoy here. They've gone out on a very thin limb of friendship here. Malfoy might be… incensed when he's rennervated. No wonder Blaise stopped her a few minutes ago.
"Pansy, why didn't you just say something?"
Her friend looks affronted. "Even if I'd told you, Draco would never have asked you out. He's been falling back on every excuse he can find for years. Would you have asked him instead?"
Hermione considers, tilting her head. Once, probably not. Even two weeks ago, probably not. She has no problem initiating encounters with people she barely knows, but only after Blaise and Theo has she grown more comfortable with dating someone within their social group. She grudgingly admits that might have made the difference.
"Was that part of the plan for today, when you were supposed to be here before they arrived?" she jerks her head towards the trio of men, two standing and one slumped over a massive pink bow. "See if I was interested before going to something this extreme?"
They all exchange looks again and Hermione stifles a laugh. They hadn't even considered the more minor option, had they?
"No, er, we'd pretty much settled on this in advance," Blaise confesses finally, looking from one to the next. "Malfoy was coming through this Floo one way or another."
"Also," Pansy defends primly, "I had to tie the bow before I left. This lot couldn't do it. You should have seen how theirs kept turning out. Then I left to get ready, and they were supposed to give me at least a thirty-minute head start."
"You've had quite the full morning," Hermione comments. "And the bow… is a nice touch." She smirks and Pansy finally cracks a smile.
"So… are you interested?" Theo asks hopefully.
Hermione is torn. Ordinarily, she would be. Why not, after all?
But the 'why not' is obvious here. If what they're saying is true, this couldn't possibly be casual for Malfoy. And it's not fair to him, to give him a chance and then… die. One morning, she just won't wake up. At least, that's how she hopes it'll happen. She hopes she won't just drop dead in the middle of London one day, walking along.
But none of them know about that. Should she tell them? She's told no one, no one at all.
Her hesitation is drawing concern.
"She's not into it," Theo whispers to Blaise from the corner of his mouth. "We should go. We can get him home and Obliviate him. Then maybe he won't kill us in our sleep tonight."
"No, it's not that," Hermione says in a rush. "I just – it's a lot to take in."
Pansy looks at her with sympathy. Hermione's struck to see that her friend looks tired and wonders how little sleep Pansy got the night before these shenanigans. For it to show through her impeccable makeup... no wonder she hadn't wanted to hit the pub with Hermione. "I know, and we're sorry. Again. So sorry. We're just out of other ideas."
Well, Hermione knows all about that, the increasingly desperate and stupid-sounding possibilities that might work, just maybe make a difference. Maybe. She feels ridiculous for even comparing the two but she can't help herself.
"Pans, I just don't know if I want anything serious at all," she settles on at last, resting against the arm of the sofa. "I was with Ron for a very long time. I've been enjoying myself. It doesn't sound like that's all it would be for – for Draco." She almost called him 'Malfoy' and figures she ought to become a little more familiar, with the situation as it is. "I wouldn't want to hurt him."
This is all very true and she feels a measure of relief at having said it aloud. The other three seem to be having some sort of nonverbal conversation amongst themselves, which Pansy finally takes over.
"You wouldn't go into anything else with the assumption that it would become serious, though. Don't worry about it. Be honest with him. He knows about Ron, of course. He won't be surprised by that. Just give him a chance."
Her tone is almost pleading by this point and Hermione looks at Malfoy again, scanning him up and down with scrutiny. She can't help a small smile at the corner of her lips.
"He's barely ever spoken to me," she muses finally. "He's never acted like he fancies me in the slightest. We're all out and about all the time."
"Occlumency," say Blaise and Theo in unison, both looking right at her. The symmetry nearly makes her laugh.
Pansy snorts, an indelicate sound she hides behind a hand. "He doesn't think he can talk to you without making an arse of himself. So he just keeps to the sidelines. Mostly, he uses Occlumency to corner his feelings so he doesn't act strange around you. We've tried to talk to him about it, get him to be a little more present when we're all together. Sometimes he even agrees and seems like he'll come around, but then he clams up again."
"Even when he drinks?" Hermione is deeply curious. If anything can get people to loosen up…
Theo asserts, "He doesn't drink around you. He never does. He never has more than two. He won't risk approaching you, gods forbid." He rolls his eyes, arms crossed firmly over his chest.
Pansy had described him as 'shy.' That's not how Hermione would describe Draco Malfoy in a thousand years, but in this specific regard, she thinks she sees where Pansy was coming from.
"What next?" she asks. "How did you three see the next part going?"
The silent conversation starts back up. Hermione waits, trying to be patient about it, but she's not known for her patience these days.
"I assume one of you has his wand," she prompts and Theo holds it up. Although, she thinks, that hadn't stopped him throwing a punch at Blaise the other day.
"We've told you a lot that he'd be mortified about," Theo says, turning to face her again. "It's best if Blaise and I aren't around when he's rennervated. He won't lash out at Pansy as much. We'll even untie him and set him on the sofa before we leave."
"So he doesn't know about the chair," she confirms, eyebrows still high. She's not surprised, of course, but she's found she rather enjoys turning the heat up on them.
"Well, no," admits Theo, sheepish. "He's not immobilised. He's just stunned. We stunned him, sat him there, and Pansy did the bow. We figured it was a better presentation than carrying his limp body through the Floo."
He and Blaise exchange a smirk and Hermione wonders how uncomfortable things are likely to be at their shared flat later when Malfoy gets home. But they were willing to roll the dice anyway, and she reluctantly has to give them some credit for that.
"Less alarming, too," she contributes with a smirk of her own. "If I'd seen you carrying him through, unconscious, I'd have figured something much worse had happened. I don't know what I would have thought, but -"
She giggles a little at the bizarre image and all three of them look relieved.
Blaise speaks up. "Well, I'm not going anywhere. I want to see what happens. I can't believe you don't, Nott."
Theo considers this and likes it. "We shouldn't be visible, though, much less in reach once he's not stunned. Could we… listen in from another room, maybe?" At Hermione's clear consternation, he adds, "We put a lot of work into this! We'll leave eventually, we promise. We just want to hear how he reacts."
"Poorly," says Pansy in irritation. Hermione can relate. "He's going to react poorly."
Blaise looks at her and Hermione has the odd impression that Blaise could pull some solid puppy-dog eyes if he needs to. "Once he's calm, we'll leave. But if he sees us, it'll take him that much longer to calm down. We just want to know what happens," he pleads. "He won't tell us later. I know he won't."
Hermione sighs and rolls her eyes. She supposes she understands. They've been planning this for a while – two weeks, at least, probably before Theo asked her out. They want some resolution and if Malfoy is as taciturn about it as they claim, they'll get exactly zero details out of him.
Her office is just off the living room. They could wait there. "Let me check my desk in here first. You all know what I do is classified."
It's not that. Her primary concern is the folders she brought home with her to work on. Pansy's is sitting on top. Hermione thinks she'll have a few comments to add to it after today. She tucks everything away, locks it all up tightly, and makes sure she hasn't missed anything with a final glance around.
"Alright, then," she says, leaning against the doorframe to the living room and assessing Malfoy's prone body slumped in the chair. The enormous bow really is ridiculous and she tries to smother a grin.
"Out," commands Pansy to the other two, gesturing with a hand. "Shoo. I'll take it from here."
Hermione nods her head towards her office, as if it wasn't the obvious room suitable to listening in, and tries to seem stern as they pass by her. She really has no idea what to expect and looks at Pansy to lead.
Pansy's busy untying Malfoy and hollers for the two men to come back and help. Hermione stifles a laugh as they both run back to the living room just in time to keep Malfoy from collapsing on the floor as the bow lets loose.
They heave him onto her sofa and Pansy dismisses them again.
"You could have levitated him," Hermione giggles, wondering if she ought to put some tea on. Probably should. She might have a few biscuits, too, but certainly not enough for all of them. Lunch had been part of this plan, she recalls, her stomach grumbling.
"Yes, well," her friend huffs, slightly winded and hair once more askew, "wasn't thinking. Don't have my wand in my hand. Couldn't have got it in time. Besides, it's good for them to have to help occasionally. Tossers," she concludes under her breath.
She's busy rearranging Malfoy's limbs into a semblance of a normal position for sitting on a sofa. His head lolls back, his hair splaying across his face, and Hermione fights an urge to sweep it to one side so she can see his eyes. They're closed, of course, but they've always been a startling sort of grey.
She still has no idea how to feel about this… blitz attack. It was on her, too, after all. But Malfoy didn't do it, and he looks so peaceful sitting there, even if he'll probably have a crick in his neck later. And he's cute. Strong jawline, great hair – especially mussed the way it is. Hermione likes it.
"I really am sorry, you know," Pansy continues in the same low voice. "I wouldn't have done this if I didn't think…" she trails off and starts over. "Draco is great. Really, really great. And so are you. I want him to be happy, obviously. And he's being so bloody stubborn about it, we had to do something. But I also want you to be happy, and I think this could work. I really do."
Hermione believes her. She truly believes Pansy wouldn't be doing this if she thought it would be a bad match. She's struck anew at how much Malfoy's closest friends seem to care about him. Enough to risk his wrath by kidnapping him and exposing his most secret feelings to his crush behind his back.
Pansy seems to be gathering her courage and Hermione takes the opportunity to brew some tea, magically bringing the water to a boil at once. They might need it.
Hermione continues to lean against the doorframe from the living room to the little kitchen, just out of sight. She clutches her teacup in both hands, soaking in the warmth of it. Pansy is levelling her wand at Malfoy and Hermione feels a quick stab of irrational worry. Are there any identifying things behind Pansy? Any photos, framed pictures on the wall, that could show her? No, she thinks with relief, knowing it wouldn't really matter, in a matter of minutes he's going to know –
"Parks? What's going on? Where the hell am I?" He's groggy and out of sorts but rallying fast.
"Okay, Draco, it's not a big deal," Pansy soothes, her hands outstretched as if warding off a wild dog. "But I have something to tell you."
Hermione can hear the two other men snickering like children from her office and rolls her eyes.
"Where are we?" Malfoy stands up, his face red and confused. His eyes are darting around, taking things in.
"In my flat," Hermione supplies, walking into view. She hadn't really planned on it, but she hasn't got the patience for… whatever this was about to be. Pansy shoots her a panicked look and she hears one of the men in the office shush the other one.
"Shut up, shut up," one hisses in a whisper, and she hears some jostling and a small thump. "Ow!"
There comes another thump. Children, she thinks again, shaking her head a little. Meanwhile, Malfoy's undergoing a rapid change, his red face going a ghastly white. He blanches at her with wide eyes that are rivalling Pansy's for panic. She grows a bit concerned. He looks like he might faint. At least he's still right by the sofa.
"Parks…" he breathes, his eyes not leaving her. They're not grey at all, Hermione thinks, squinting at him a little. How long has it been since she's been this near to him? They're almost an ice blue. "What the hell is this?"
Pansy rallies. "Hermione wants to go on a date with you." She glances at Hermione with a wide smile and lift her sharp eyebrows encouragingly. Right?
It's Hermione's turn to blanch. Pansy's diving right in. Hermione has to respect the efficiency of the approach but holds up a hand. "Well, hang on -"
Pansy urgently gestures at her to stop talking as Malfoy's face flickers through a series of emotions. Fear, hope, then miserable dread. He's here, somehow, she's interested, she's not interested after all. His expression shutters altogether and Hermione can tell he's gathered himself enough to get his Occlumency back in line.
Now he looks like the man she always sees around the Ministry or out with their friends. Coolly aloof, almost distracted. The change nearly breaks her heart, his self-defensive posture. Only his quick breathing gives him away. He feels around in his pockets, and up one forearm sleeve where Hermione presumes he keeps a wand holster.
"Parks, where's my wand? I want to leave. I'm sure Hermione would rather we leave." He gives her the most perfunctory glance. Hs eyes are grey, she thinks in wonder, before they fall back on Pansy, who begins to ramble.
"I don't have it. Not here. And we're not leaving yet anyway, not until -"
"Would you like some tea?" Hermione interrupts, looking between the pair of them. She doesn't wait for an answer before rummaging up a small tray and some spare teacups.
"No, thank you," he says stiffly. "This has been humiliating enough. Sorry about this. I don't know what Pansy was thinking." He glares at Pansy and she lifts her chin defiantly.
"Well, I'm not taking all the blame for this. Get out here!" she calls over her shoulder and Malfoy's face drains of colour all over again when his two best friends emerge sheepishly from Hermione's little office.
"I'm inviting you to stay for tea," Hermione says loudly, using the authoritative voice she usually reserved for Harry and Ron at school. "Are you saying you don't want to?"
Malfoy freezes, visibly torn among desires to castigate the trio in front of him, fling himself out the front door without a wand, and disappear into the floor. A fourth desire, to actually partake in some tea, seems to win out at last. Or maybe not all the way, but he stays where he is.
Hermione pours the five of them a cup. Things seem to be at a verbal stalemate, Malfoy waiting for an explanation and the others waiting to be prompted with specific questioning. Maybe they don't want to reveal too much, she thinks, lessening his wrath later.
Her kitchen isn't large enough for five, three of them full-grown wizards and everybody bigger than her. Her living room really isn't, either, but as it's hers and she's been quite imposed upon so far today, she takes her own favourite chair. Pansy sits agreeably on a small footstool she pulls from the corner that Hermione uses to reach tall cabinets and shelves. She holds herself neatly in half in her fitted skirt, her knees pressed together and comically elevated towards her chest, and takes charge.
"Sit," she commands the wizards, pointing at the sofa. None of them argue and Hermione's impressed.
There's a bit more jostling about who has to sit scrunched in the middle though, and Theo loses. He takes ready opportunities to elbow the other two and Blaise thumps him up the back of the head with a scowl. Hermione hides a grin behind her teacup, clutching it with both hands.
Pansy, while not wanting to take solo blame, still makes the best spokesperson. "Draco, we all decided it's time for you to do something about this. It's gotten a bit ridiculous, really, and we -"
Doing his best to ignore the scuffling on the sofa next to him, Malfoy cuts in, his face growing redder again. "You're right, Pansy, this was ridiculous -"
"- You know what I mean," Pansy snaps. "Now, hush. Let me get this out and the rest of us will leave. You will not, at least not until Hermione tells you to go. You're going to give this a chance and speak to her properly, like a normal person. You're going to have at least one real conversation with her."
Malfoy begins to splutter something else and Pansy cuts him off at the knees. "Do I need to fetch some nappies? Stop acting like a baby before I say more things that will embarrass you."
Hermione chokes a little over her tea, but that seems to do the trick. Malfoy has no idea how many extremely embarrassing things his best friends have already told Hermione, and she's sure they'd all like to avoid providing more detail on that front.
Blaise is whispering something to Theo on the sofa and now it's Malfoy who swats Theo upside the head. "Ow!"
"I can't reach Blaise. Shut the hell up, the pair of you."
Theo thumps Blaise on Malfoy's behalf. "There. Better?"
Blaise moves to tackle Theo in the middle and suddenly all three wizards are grappling like schoolchildren, hands flying, perfectly-shined Italian shoes leaving the floor. Blaise's hair is cropped short but Theo's brown and Malfoy's blonde are both in play. Mussing of the hair seems to be a primary point of contention for scuffling.
Hermione and Pansy exchange a droll look. Boys.
"If you lot break my sofa, you're buying me a new one."
"Malfoy will buy you one! He'll love to! He'll -" Blaise calls out gleefully from the middle of the fray and Pansy intervenes before this becomes an actual fight with actual punching.
"Draco," she yells over the din, "we couldn't take it anymore. You wouldn't do anything about it, so we did. It's done. Now it's up to you."
"She's not interested, Parks!" Malfoy hollers in return, face red with a mix of embarrassment and exertion.
"I never said that!" Hermione shouts, the volume level of the room steadily rising, and everybody stops.
Malfoy shakes his head stubbornly, breathing hard. "Just a minute ago, you -"
Pansy leaps back in. "She said 'hang on,' not 'no, get the hell out.' If you recall, she also invited you to stay for tea. Which you aren't drinking, by the way," she notes pointedly.
Hermione's just glad the table in front of the sofa with all the tea on it hasn't been overturned. She continues to be impressed with Pansy's authoritative control over the wizards, particularly when perched in such an undignified way on Hermione's tiny footstool. This has shaped up to be a rather entertaining morning but it's time for her to regain command of her own flat, she decides, standing.
"Everybody else out. Draco and I can take it from here." She very nearly called him 'Malfoy' again. "Pansy told me this would involve lunch and I'm quite hungry. Will you take me to lunch?"
Malfoy's too stunned to reply and Pansy capitalises. "Now this is when you say 'yes,' Draco, and also tell her how nice she looks in green."
Alone, they stare at each other in silence. She sees his Adam's apple bob as he swallows hard. Hermione fervently hopes she isn't going to have to lead every step of this. She may like being in charge but she's not much for handholding.
"Your reluctance is flattering," she says dryly and he springs to life.
"Where would you like to go? Fibonacci's? We could -"
"They aren't open for lunch," she says with a touch of regret, wondering if Theo had told him she liked the place.
"Right. Right, of course. Let's – ah, go to the Ledbury, then," and Hermione's glad she's dressed nicer than simply 'casual Saturday luncheon.'
For the first time, she wonders what his friends would have done if they'd stunned him while he was wearing pyjamas this morning. Probably they'd have waited until he'd dressed for the day, she figures. She's never pictured him as the type, but what if Malfoy lounges around all day on the weekends? She doesn't know. If he looked confused about his attire, she'd have assumed Pansy dressed him today. He doesn't, but the visual is funny either way.
She's intrigued, though. She's never been to the Ledbury. Seems as good a place as any.
Theo had tossed him his wand back before making his escape through the Floo, and she and Malfoy Apparate together – but separately – to the Ledbury. Not only does she look good in green, but these trousers make her bum positively pert and his eyes keep flicking across it. His pink cheeks and determined distracted stare back into the distance make her want to giggle.
The Ledbury is lovely, with wood accents and soft lights, white tablecloths and cleverly-placed mirrors. Hermione could quite forget this is a Saturday lunch and thinks it wouldn't feel out of place dining here before going to the Royal Opera House.
Malfoy seems much more at ease when not making direct eye contact or conversation. He smoothly gets them a table and generally appears much more in his element this way. He pulls out her chair and sits, but she notices he's still staring somewhere near her shoulder. Between the physical real estate of face and chest, shoulder seems safest. He's steadfastly not looking at her chest or her face.
Silence.
Hermione bites her lip, amused. So far this morning has been entertaining, if only from an observing sort of role. He's so uncomfortable, she can't deny that it's a little funny.
After another moment, her eyes dance across her face, her hair, her blouse. The lighting here is favourable, she knows, and he swallows. Hermione thinks she might have a little more fun with her next outfit.
She's busy trying to reconcile the man across the table with the same confident but distant Draco Malfoy who's been on the periphery of her groups of friends for years. And 'periphery' is the right word. He's always around, but if Theo and Blaise are to be believed, he's kept to the background when she's there on purpose.
No background to be found here, though.
"What's good here?" she asks mildly, throwing him a life raft of sorts.
He's scanning the menu, now, with far too much intensity. "The scallops are fantastic, but if you're not a seafood person, their Iberian pork is, too."
Well, at least she'll get a good lunch out of it. She plans on the scallops and orders a white wine. Malfoy hesitates before ordering a firewhisky and she figures he might need one. Feeling like this might provide a point of commiseration, she adds, "I don't usually drink at lunch, by the way. But it seems like a good idea, don't you agree?"
He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I know you don't want to be here. I'm sorry for what they did. I'm so sorry, I can't believe they -"
"That's not why I want a drink," she insists calmly. "But it seems like it'll help break the ice a bit." His eyes dart to hers, then away again. She sighs. "Why don't we ignore how we got here?"
Malfoy snorts as if he could possibly manage this.
"Let's pretend you asked me here like a regular person in a regular way, shall we?" She knows she's taking the piss out of him a little, but she can't help herself.
"I wouldn't have brought you to lunch," he scoffs quietly. "I'd have asked you to dinner."
She politely bypasses the fact that he clearly had no plans whatsoever to do this. "Well, follow up with that offer after lunch, then. You can still ask."
He finally looks at her, his eyes still guarded and grey. "You'd want to?"
"Well, if I don't want to, I'll let you know when you ask. It's how these things usually progress." It was automatic banter but now she's just giving him a hard time. She feels a little bad about it after and mentally tries to reel back in.
"You can say you don't want to now. You won't hurt my feelings."
That's obviously untrue but she's growing frustrated as the server brings their drinks. "Why do you keep assuming I don't want to?"
He pulls a face at his firewhisky. "You don't seem to like me very much."
"You're not giving me anything to work with!" she exclaims. "Stop Occluding. Be yourself. Generally, on dates, people ask the other person about themselves. Do that. Although, after discussing something with Pansy earlier, I'm going to start with a disclaimer. You can do what you want with it."
This piques his interest and she finally sees a tinge of the light blue come through the grey in his irises. His Occlumency is falling back.
"You know I was with Ron for years. I expect you know it's only been a few months since it ended. I'm not looking to get into something else that serious again. It's not that I want to date five wizards at once – that's not me. But I don't want to dive headfirst back into something like that was."
Malfoy mulls this over and she's encouraged to continue seeing blue in his eyes. "Why did it end?"
Now they're getting to proper conversation. She's further encouraged. "Ron wanted… something else. He wanted to settle down. He wanted a quiet life, and I – I guess I want a more exciting one."
She can't think of a better way to phrase it and leaves it at that.
"I know your work is very important to you, too," he starts slowly but she interrupts.
"It's becoming less important." She smiles at him and is gratified to get one in return. And more eye contact. They're doing better.
"And why is that?"
"I just realised how many things I was missing out on, spending all my time and energy in the lab. Life's too short, I guess you could say."
"Hence the desire for a more exciting life," he quips and she gives a small laugh. "Did… did my two idiot roommates provide any excitement?"
He's digging for details, trying to be casual about it, and she wonders how much Theo and Blaise told him. How much he was told versus what he assumed, before punching Blaise in the eye.
She sees no reason not to be honest about this part. "They were both perfect gentlemen. Both dinners out were lovely. They're both of a good sort, but I'm sure you know that. Blaise made sure I got home safely both nights, but he didn't even kiss me goodnight. I had to kiss him."
Malfoy's eye twitches at this, but otherwise he doesn't react.
"Theo did kiss me," she admits next with a wry smile, "but neither kiss provided any… excitement."
He grumbles, "Theo will kiss any pretty girl he has an opportunity to," and then flushes a little red. His eyes stay blue, though. "Incorrigible flirt."
She tries to capitalise on the compliment and his established interest in her, reluctant though it was. "So, how did you envision this would go?"
Malfoy looks frozen to the spot and she sees him wrestling with his Occlumency. He wins out with difficulty and takes a deep breath. "I didn't. I never thought we'd actually be here. I have no idea."
"We were never going to be here because you were never going to ask me," she points out succinctly. "Why not?"
He's back to staring at her shoulder, but his eyes are still blue. "Why would you be interested in me? I know you testified to keep me out of Azkaban, but you did that for a lot of us back then. I was a Death Eater, I voluntarily took the Mark as the youngest person in history, I hated Muggle-borns, I was awful to you in school, I'm partially responsible for that scar on your arm -"
Hermione stops this rambling before it can further devolve. "Enough. You can live in what happened ten years ago if you like, but I've had bigger fish to fry for a long, long time. I testified because you didn't deserve to go to Azkaban. I believed it then and I still believe it. And you had nothing to do with the scar on my arm – which is gone, by the way – and I don't know how you can blame yourself for that. No, don't double down on it."
He's begun to argue the point and she raises a hand. "I'm not going to waste time trying to convince you. I'm saying I don't blame you. If you continue to blame yourself, it's on you."
"They said you were direct," he mutters, but he does look somewhat mollified.
He has no idea, she thinks, but he may get the chance to find out. He might be well-suited to it, really, but he needs more confidence than this. She knows he has it in him. He's climbed to rank just below the department head in Magical Sports and Games. He works alongside his mother on various non-profits and charitable causes. He's comfortable with large-scale public speaking.
Hermione's never seen him so off balance. She weighs possible next topics, unsure if the one she chooses will help or not. "What happened at your flat before you woke up in mine?"
His eyes meet hers again and she gives him a mischievous grin. He clears his throat. "They were accosting me about you, again, but that's probably obvious. Theo said it was the last time they were going to ask me to approach you and I figured he meant they were finally giving up."
Nope. She can't hide her smile.
"So of course I said 'no', again, thinking it was all finally about to be over." He rolls his eyes and looks up at the ceiling for a few moments before running his hand backwards through his hair.
"Then they stunned you," Hermione supplies an educated guess. "Were you already dressed?" She points at hand at his general torso. "I only ask because it's a rather funny image, the three of them wrangling your unconscious body into that suit."
He glances down as if only just now considering that possibility. "Ah, no, I was dressed." His mouth has a shadow of a smile on it and Hermione tries not to get distracted by the clear implication that 'business suit' is his regular Saturday apparel as well.
"I caught them practically tumbling out of the Floo in a big pile. They had you tied to a chair, in fact -" and he nearly chokes.
"What?"
"With an enormous bow tied round the middle, like you were a present just for me." The look on his face is pure murder and Hermione hopes she hasn't doomed their household to the fiery pits of hell this evening. "They spared the gift-wrapping, though," she adds, trying to lighten his mood.
"Parkinson," he growls to himself, looking off in the distance.
"Well, I don't know whose idea this was overall, but I am willing to venture the bow bit was Pansy's."
Malfoy dips his face into his hand. "I'm so sorry they did this. I -"
"Are you still?" she interrupts him. "Even now, now that we're sitting here?" This stops him and she keeps going. "I'm not. I have to say, this has been an exciting Saturday so far."
He seems to weigh his words. "I'm sorry they did it the way they did, yes, but that's more about me than you. It's embarrassing."
Fair enough. "If you could go back, would you do it differently? Would it still have been necessary?" Hermione lifts her wine glass to her lips and takes another sip. It really is good.
The server returns with their entrees and she lets him have a few minutes of peace while she digs into the scallops.
"You deserve someone better than me, that's all," he says at last, even though it doesn't answer her question. He's eyeing his firewhisky and she kicks him under the table. "Ow!"
She's not apologetic in the slightest. "You seem to be doing just fine, so quit it." This is generous of her, as he's still half-floundering about, but she knows he has the potential to do just fine. And she's not going to reengage the debate about his various culpabilities of things from over a decade in the past.
"I can see why you and Parks get on so well," he grumbles resentfully. "She talks about you a lot, you know."
"She never talks about you at all," Hermione retorts. "I expect you told her not to." She doesn't need the look on his face to tell her she's right. She's touched again by how much his friends have done for him.
Meanwhile, he's plainly angling for a different subject. He waits until she swallows a bite before saying, "So today provided some excitement, you said. What other sorts of things have you been trying that are new and exciting?"
Apart from being shagged in the park at night or dominating Ron in bed, she supposes. She twists his question slightly instead, in a sudden inspiration. She wants to get him in a situation where they have something to do, apart from watching each other eat. Somewhere they can both try something new, maybe, and get to know each other a little better at the same time.
"I've been considering making a trip to Thorpe Park. Have you ever been?" His confused expression gives her the answer. "It's a Muggle theme park."
That clearly didn't help at all and she giggles a little. "Muggles have crafted some fairly intense forms of entertainment without magic. I was wanting to check it out. Would you be interested?"
Yes, this could work out well. Give Malfoy something to focus on that isn't just her, something to stimulate a different type of interaction. He's doing much better now than when they sat, but she still thinks it could be fun. And Thorpe Park would be more fun with a companion. She hadn't figured out who else she could ask to go and still explain why she wanted to. She doesn't need to explain anything to Malfoy beyond what she'd already laid out.
"Ah, maybe," he hedges with a tone of caution. "But now you've asked me to lunch and to some weird Muggle thing, so I need to balance the scales a little. Let me take you to dinner properly and then we'll see."
"See there?" she encourages slyly. "Not so hard, was it?" Malfoy pulls a face at her and she can't help laughing. "You have to live a little."
Speaking of 'living a little,' while Hermione did warn him that she's not looking for something serious, she isn't certain they have any sort of sexual chemistry at all yet. And while Malfoy might be able to admit, even if only to himself, that he should have asked her out before now, Hermione isn't at all confident he'll make the first physical move.
She can't deny he's attractive, though. Extremely attractive. Now that she can see the blue in his eyes rather than the steely grey they always seemed to be, they light up his face. He's much more animated without the Occlumency, even if his general demeanour is still tinged with an awkward air. He's trying, though; she can tell. She can't remember the last time Malfoy smiled at her beyond a cordial colleague-across-the-lobby sort of way, and his genuine smile is captivating. She's only seen it once today, but he's got a dimple on his left cheek that's adorable.
He's still nowhere near comfortable enough to let loose but Hermione's optimistic. She knows he's intelligent – Hogwarts showed her that, but also his friendship with Blaise and Theo speaks volumes. They're intelligent and they enjoy his company. And how much his friends care, what they were willing to risk for him, shows her something about his character, too.
Malfoy handles the cheque with practised ease and Hermione considers her next step. Ordinarily, the casual nature of a lunch as a first date wouldn't automatically lend itself to a kiss goodbye. But she's still sure he wouldn't do it even if this was a dinner date or a fancy night out. And wouldn't she rather find out if there's something here now than later?
Ever the pragmatist, she decides to go for it. She'll see how he attempts to conclude things first, though.
Just as Blaise had done the weekend before, he Apparates them back to her street. Unlike on their way to the Ledbury, however, he holds out his elbow for her and leads the Apparition. She tries to detect any reaction from her touching him and can't. Maybe he's got his feet back under him at last.
His posture is still a bit braced when he looks down at her and begins, "So, then, can I take you out Friday ni-"
Hermione pulls him down by his shirt to meet his mouth with hers. Stunned, he puts up no resistance, but it still takes him three or four long seconds to react.
His mouth goes from frozen to vividly alive as his hands come up to cup her face. He gasps and kisses her as if he's been drowning, as if she's the only air to be found. His fingers tease the back of her neck, his thumb tracing up and down her cheek and she feels chills. Her own hands are fisted in his shirt and she splays her fingers now, letting them feel his chest. It's heaving, his heart racing, as he devours her.
Flames are licking up her feet and her heart staggers slightly. She can't recall the last time she was snogged like this. He makes a little noise against her mouth, something that somehow makes her think this is the last thing he'll ever feel.
She lets him break it off and has no idea how long it's been. He doesn't go far, resting his forehead against hers with his eyes closed for another moment.
On impulse, she says, "If you're really alright that I'm not looking for anything serious, then let's make it Monday night instead."
For all Hermione knows, she might be dead by Friday, though she fervently hopes not. Not without getting more of this, a lot more, but asking about tomorrow does seem a bit keen.
He smiles with his hands still on her face and his forehead on hers before standing back up again. "After you talk to Parks?"
She arches an eyebrow, trying to level her own breathing back out in some kind of dignified manner. "So?"
He laughs, the first open sound she's heard from him, and it's beautiful.