Young and On Fire

by coldqueen

AU: Not epilogue compliant. Three witches make unexpected connections in the years following the war and learn to step out of their comfort zones to evolve past who they were and to find the love that is waiting for them on the other side.

1. The Heart of It All

There was a rainbow-sheened mist curling around the edges of the door to the Department of Mysteries when Pansy returned from dinner. Once inside it was clear it hadn't yet risen above her knees but she still recognized the smell, a combination of bitter almond and saccharine vanilla. She cursed herself silently before hurrying through the door to her department and waving her hand at the cauldron to vanish the contents. It would take a few hours for the fog to dissipate but it would hopefully be gone by the time her colleagues returned in the morning.

"What were you working on?"

Pansy jumped, then glared in the direction of the voice. Of course the swotty know-it-all was working late as well. "An immunity potion against veritaserum."

Hermione straightened from the doorway and approached cautiously. They'd been working in the same department for four years and while civil, there was still no love lost between them. "I assume the gas wasn't on purpose then."

Pansy bit the sharp retort back and replied instead…honestly. "No, the volatility of the ingredients isn't subverting the existing potion and instead is causing evanescence."

Hermione snorted in amusement, then looked down at the fog still twirling around their boots. "Could be a fun party favor. Do you need any help clearing it up? I wasn't particularly looking forward to going home to an empty apartment." She then clearly hadn't meant to say that and slapped her hand across her mouth with a horrified look.

"I know the feeling," Pansy admitted, crossing her arms sullenly. "Why do you think I work late so often?" Not something she'd normally admit, either. Pansy studied Hermione from the corner of her eye. "You have no reason to be alone, however. So why would you be?"

"Because I can't stand to be around my friends," she admitted before swearing under her breath. "This fog is no joke. I don't think I've ever admitted that even to myself."

"The golden trio is not so golden anymore," Pansy observed snidely, sliding onto a stool in front of her potion bench and leaning back to face her former enemy dead on. "Did they hurt your feelings again?"

Hermione snorted and actually looked almost amused. "They'd have to pay attention to me to hurt my feelings these days. They're all too busy living their lives. Getting married, having children, moving on. Yet here I am…studying, working, trying to make the world better as I've always done. Alone."

"You're not alone," a soft whisper of voice admonished from the door, Luna stepping in slowly. She moved so gracefully light on her feet that she seemed more a part of the fog than moving through it. "We're here too."

It was almost like Hermione couldn't stop speaking, she took a deep breath and inhaled the veritaserum mist like it was a cigarette and she needed another hit. "After the war, all I could focus on was fixing things. I worked day and night at Kingsley's side, finding the evidence, drawing up plans for reorganization, drafting up all these projects that would better the wizarding world, treaties that would give equal rights to all beings and everyone else…they were young. They went out drinking and danced and had fun and were young. And now I'm ready to relax and to enjoy life again and…they're done. Harry and Gin are married with a child, and Ron is seeing someone and talking engagement and hell, even Draco Malfoy is sitting on the Wizengamot and has a son at home. And me? I bury my head in work because I don't know what else to do." She tilted her head at Pansy. "Did you add blabberpuss? Or am I just venting?"

"Harry and Ginny are my only friends," Luna confessed. "I came to work here because the department of prophecies called me but it's very isolating."

"At least you both have people. I have no one." Pansy stood and wished she had a drink in hand desperately. "I pushed my few friends away after school, it was the only way I could testify against Rookwood and tell what he did to me. I have spent years with mind-healers to get to the point where I could even stomach someone else's touch again. My healer suggests that I get practice allowing people to touch me but…there is no one to ask." Pansy let that truth fill the air. "Next version I'm leaving out the blabberpuss extract. I think I've spoken more today than I did last year. Screw this, I'm leaving. I'll put a sign on the door warning the others away if this doesn't go away by morning." She was walking past Hermione when she felt a hand clasp her forearm and she froze…the first touch she's felt in years.

Pansy absolutely refused to look at Hermione, though she held her head high and could see Luna studying the tableau with sharper attention that she typically exuded. Finally Hermione spoke, "I forgave you a long time ago for what happened. I'm sorry that I never told you."

"I don't need your forgiveness. I survived, just as you did what you had to do to survive, just like Luna did what she had to do to survive the war," Pansy declared, pulling her arm away slower and more gently than her instincts were telling her to. "And I'm tired of this heart to heart, I really need a drink."

"That sounds nice," Luna surmised, a dreamy expression drifting across her face and now she looked normal as much as she ever did. "Let's go too."

Hermione was startled by the suggestion but only reviewed it briefly before agreeing, "Yes, let's. I'm curious to see if we can get along better without the truth potion in the air and I'm too keyed up to go home either way."

"That's another side effect. Also, I don't remember inviting either of you," Pansy groaned but she wasn't as upset by the prospect as she portrayed. "I'm not going to be seen in a wizard bar with either of you. Just what we need is to be blasted across the front page of the Prophet as turning the Golden Princess into a lush."

Hermione laughed and followed Pansy and Luna out the main door of the Department of Mysteries. Even outside of the influence of the potion, somehow it felt like air was cleared in more ways than one and she could appreciate the sardonic humor of Pansy instead of being insulted by it. "We could go to a muggle bar. There's one not far from here, they serve really good cocktails."

Pansy and Luna both turned to look at her with wide eyes. "A muggle bar?"

Luna smiled beatifically, "Oh, that sounds like fun."

"Is it safe?"

"Pansy, I'm trying not to be insulted by that question."

Pansy sighed and looked up, and seemed to be considering her words. She was actually counting to ten so she didn't snap out the first sharp retort that came to mind. Finally through gritted teeth she admitted, "I've never been to a muggle establishment."

"Oh, it's perfectly safe," Hermione assured before stepping forward to lead them on. "They make really good drinks, and play terrible music, and always have tons of flirtatious men to make you feel pretty." She turned a keen eye back to Pansy and reassured her, "And if you don't want the men to make you feel pretty they're good at taking a hint and if they don't take a hint, they've got personnel who'll make them leave you alone. All without magic."

"What if I don't want them to leave me alone?" Pansy inquired, trying to remember the last time a man had flirted with her.

It'd been Blaise, back in Hogwarts. Seventh year they'd been seeing each other until…until Rookwood and she couldn't stand any of it anymore and had broken things off rather severely. He'd tried a dozen times to talk to her after that but she couldn't stand to see the way he looked at her, especially after the trial so she'd avoided him ever since.

"Then you're in luck because someone who looks like you will not be short admirers." Hermione gestured to Pansy, "what with the long sexy black hair and the short skirt and the boots, they'll be clambering to flirt with you."

"Those are very nice boots. Do they make them in purple?" Luna asked trailing behind the two but for once not feeling like a tag-along.

"I don't know, I only ever buy things in black," Pansy explained, before narrowing her eyes at Hermione even as she continued to follow her through the corridors towards the phone booth that would escort them outside. "If you never go out, how do you know about this bar?"

"I tried going by myself a couple of times but…" she trailed off and shrugged, "it's not very much fun alone."

"I hope we have fun together," Luna added with a smile. "It'd be nice to go out after work with friends. We could do this regularly."

"Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Is Hermione coming to James' birthday party this weekend?"

Harry paused writing his report on the latest dark artifact raid and looked up at his partner with a distracted look. "I'm…not sure. I don't think I've seen her lately."

Theo stared down at Harry, thoroughly unimpressed. "She's your best mate, I'd assume she would be."

"Well it's a good assumption, but I'll have to confirm. I think she's got some new project for work she's focusing on. I haven't seen her in…" he thought hard, "damn, about three months now I think. I'm a terrible friend," Harry decided, pausing to reach for a new scroll to send a missive her way. "Why do you ask anyways?"

Theo grinned at him, and idly twirled a quill around his fingers and deliberately did not answer.

"Sod it, Theo, you're not still trying to get her hooked up with Draco?"

"I wouldn't say 'hooked up', but his divorce has been final for months now and I know he's got a hard-on for the bookworm and she been known to give him those bedroom eyes at Ministry events-"

"Are they bedroom eyes or 'hate your guts' eyes?"

"-and sometimes looks like she'd love to rip his designer cloaks off-"

"Or just his face, you do remember what they were like in school, yes?"

"-and he certainly doesn't mind the way she fills out cocktail robes, has she always had that nice of a bum?"

"Don't be a prat, Theo."

"I'm just saying, I am his wingman and I have a duty to present him with the best options and you know the best way to get over a witch is to get under a new one. And Hermione? That'd be the culmination of some very naughty schoolboy fantasies for him, remember we shared a dorm."

"These are all things I did not need to know about Draco Malfoy," Harry reminded his partner, before squeezing the bridge of his nose and trying to keep the headache at bay. "I'm tempted to uninvite you if you're just going to spend the whole party trying to get those two to stumble into a closet together."

"Harry! I won't spend the whole party trying to get Draco laid. I'll also be looking for my own closet to drag a bloke into. Luckily you've got a nice large home with plenty of closets."

It was entirely too bright in Luna's bedroom and there was an unceasing tapping noise drilling into her frontal lobe and pulling her from a very pleasant dream involving an expedition to the Amazon for the rare rainbow-billed tyractodale and a guide who wore a loin cloth and nothing else. Unfortunately mid-liaison his billowing dark hair went from blowing attractively in the wind to getting caught in her mouth so between the light, the noise, and choking Luna woke up quite unpleasantly.

She recognized three facts as soon as she forced her eyes open: the tapping was an owl at the window, it was still quite early on a Sunday morning, and the hair in her mouth was Pansy's.

The three of them had somehow managed to get tangled up in Luna's small bed when they'd stumbled back from their night out. She remembered a few too many martinis, two barely-legal boys serenading them as they'd stumbled to the apparition point, and the three of them giggling like schoolgirls when they'd managed to appear at Luna's without splinching. Hermione had attempted to enlarge the bed but had lacked the magical focus and it shrunk back down half an hour later while they'd still been dozing lightly. They'd curled up tighter together and ignored it in favor of sleep.

Despite the tapping from the owl, Luna didn't move because she wanted to enjoy this for a bit more. She and Ginny had been too old when they became friends for sleepovers but here she was in her 20s, with two ladies who'd become very close friends in the past few months. She wasn't certain how three such different people had found a common thread but loneliness made for strange bedfellows.

Luna snorted at the thought since at the moment it was very literal bedfellows.

Finally she couldn't take it anymore and pulled her wand out of her thigh holster to unlock the window. The black owl immediately swooped in and dropped an envelope on Hermione's head and Luna was fairly certain it had dropped it deliberately sharp corner first. It didn't even wait for a response before flapping back out.

Hermione groaned and rubbed at the sore spot on her cheek and shifted to grab the offending letter. "What time is it?"

"Too early," Pansy offered before shoving her head fully under the pillow and pulling the covers up over her head. Luna blinked sedately at Hermione and shrugged before curling closer to Pansy. While Hermione was all soft curves, Pansy was tall and lean and surprisingly strong though not bulky. She also ran inordinately hot at all times which was why she was the only person Luna knew who could get away with miniskirts in winter.

"Are you hungry?" Hermione asked, tossing the letter on the bedside table and flopping onto her back to stare at the ceiling.

"Starving," Luna agreed, smiling to herself as they continued to lay there and made no effort to get up.

"I could make pancakes," Pansy offered from under the pillow, shifting so she could peer out at them. "But I'm rubbish at bacon so don't ask."

"You always burn it," Hermione and Luna agreed.

"I'm not a patient person."

"I'll make the bacon," Luna decided as she crawled over Hermione to get out of the bed. She stretched and sighed, enjoying the way her back cracked as she walked away. "My mouth tastes terrible."

"What were we drinking last night?" Pansy asked, turning over so that her head was once more on the pillow and she could see them both clearly.

"Martinis," Hermione supplied, "Shaken not stirred," she explained before giggling.

"That is a terrible Scottish accent," Pansy observed, unsure why that set her friend off with more giggles.

"It's from a movie called James Bond. He always drinks martinis before fighting the bad guys and making love with the femme fatale."

"What's a movie?"

Hermione stopped giggling long enough to look at Pansy aghast. "I know they talked about it in muggle studies. It's like a play, but it's on film like a picture so it can be watched again and again."

"You and I both know I didn't take muggle studies, my father would have murdered me." Pansy considered the statement, "Though he almost did anyways when he found out I was infertile so I was a disappointment no matter what."

"Well you're a delight to me," Luna announced as she returned with freshly brushed teeth and started looking for comfort clothes to put on. "I'd love to see a movie sometime, Hermione. How does one do that?"

"There's actually a lot of options now, especially if you have a telly at home. A lot of people go to a theatre and see it there on a big screen, but the older movies can be bought or rented to see at home. I quite like the theatre, it's an experience."

"Would you-" Luna paused, suddenly unsure of the question she'd been about to ask. Despite the fact that they often went out several nights a week for drinks and fun, they didn't often do things together outside of that.

"Would I what?" Hermione prompted, sitting up and pushing her curls out of her face. They were particularly fuzzy today as Luna did not have silk pillowcases. Hermione tagged that mentally as a possible Christmas present for her.

"Would you take us to one?"

The question sat in the air for a few tense moments before Hermione's smile dispelled the stress. "Of course. There's actually a James Bond movie out right now that looks good. It's got Pierce Brosnan who's not too shabby, though I do love Sean Connery the best."

"I am thoroughly confused," Pansy admitted, "but if you think it's worth a laugh I guess I'll go."

Luna was so happy she practically glowed. "That sounds lovely. Don't worry about getting up Pansy, I'll make the pancakes and bacon."

"She is far too energetic and happy for how much we drank last night."

Hermione hummed in agreement, slowly sliding herself back down and curling up under the covers to listen to Luna putter around in the kitchen. "I noticed you were dancing with a bloke last night."

"Must we have a heart-to-heart when the sun is barely up? How much sleep did we even get last night, or rather this morning?"

Hermione ignored the attempt to change the subject. "How was it? Were you scared?"

"I was too drunk to be scared," Pansy alleged before clenching her fingers in the covers and continuing, "It felt…I don't know how to explain it. I wasn't scared. He barely touched me but when he did I felt a pit in my stomach. It felt more like…shame, except not shame. I felt very aware of myself and my body."

"Are you going to see your mind-healer this week?"

"I have an appointment on Thursday. She's quite happy with my progress," Pansy pantomimed in a snide tone. "I don't freeze up when you or Luna touch me, but when…men touch me, it's not the same."

"Do you think it's because of sexual attraction?" Hermione asked, and she knew better than to make eye contact with Pansy when they were talking about these things by now. Pansy would shut down if she tried, though Luna often had more luck with getting Pansy to address things head on instead of compartmentalizing it.

"What do you mean?"

"Well…Luna and I don't want to shag you. There's no danger in us ever approaching you in that way so we're safe. Men though, and to be fair I've seen you in public and there are some women too, that do want to and that…reminds you of Rookwood and what happened."

"I am not a victim, I am a survivor," Pansy stated solemnly and just a bit more quiet than she normally spoke. It was an affirmation she'd repeated to herself thousands of times over the years, something one of her first healers had given to her.

"You are one of the strongest women I know," Hermione assured her, "and do remember I know eight women with a First Order of Merlin."

"What's in the letter?"

Hermione allowed the change of subject. Retrieving it from the bedside table, she skimmed the letter and snorted to herself. "It's an invite to James Potter's third birthday party next Saturday."

"Bit snotty of Potter to invite you at the last minute."

"He probably intended to invite me in person but we haven't seen much of each other lately," she defended, especially since the reason for that was mostly on her. Ginny and Harry had given her a standing invitation to Sunday breakfast but for the past few months she'd been having some late Saturday nights with Luna and Pansy and hadn't been inclined to head that way. "I supposed I should go, I am his godmother."

"Sounds like hell to me. Tiny wizards running amok with sticky hands while the adults coo and talk about having some of their own," Pansy shivered in revulsion. "You couldn't pay me to attend."

Hermione was still laughing when Luna danced back in, a tray floating behind her with a heaping stack of pancakes and greasy bacon that smelled like ambrosia. "I've brought the cure for what ails you, ladies."

She joined them on the bed and set the tray between them, handing them forks with a grin before pulling her own out of the bun on top of her head. "What did I miss?"

"Hermione just got a last minute invite to Snotty Potty's birthday party next Saturday and is honestly considering ditching us for bad cake and screaming children."

"I was invited as well, but I got my invite several weeks ago," Luna explained around a massive bite of syrup-covered pancakes. "I'll be there, though I'm mostly going to flirt with George."

Hermione and Pansy both froze mid-bite. "You're going-

"-flirt with-"

"-George Weasley?"

Luna nodded slowly, unsure why they were giving her such crazy looks. "I've always had a crush on him, ever since I was thirteen and saw him shirtless. He and Fred had been playing quidditch during the summer and jumped in the pond to cool off. It was…" she trailed off, her eyes glazing over, "life changing."

"I thought I was nauseous before but now I am really going to be sick," Hermione declared, setting her fork down and pressing her hand to her stomach. "How long have you been holding on to that secret?"

"I don't know that it's a secret, I've been flirting with him for years. He doesn't seem to notice though," Luna added with a small self-deprecating smile.

Hermione thought back to all the events at the Ministry and the Burrow that they'd been at together. She shared a charged look with Pansy. "Luna, what do you do when you flirt with a man?"

"I make eye contact and twirl my hair around my finger and complement them."

Pansy scoffed, "Luna, if that's your measurement for flirting you were flirting with Arnold Pickens the 80 year old auror who mans the front desk at the Ministry yesterday."

"But Arnie is really good at his job, he never misses checking security clearances."

"Well, we're going to arm you with the right weapons for next Saturday," Pansy decided, grinning at her deviously. "I am very good at flirting, always have been. We'll practice this week and have you up to speed by Saturday."

Luna tilted her head but shrugged her acceptance. "Do you think he'll sleep with me? I've been having a lot of sexy dreams lately, I think I'm due for an orgasm."

Hermione spit out her orange juice and choked back a laugh. "You and I both, Luna."

Draco leaned against the doorframe of the Wizengamot and watched Blaise Zabini watch Pansy as she strode purposefully across the courtyard toward the elevators, doubtless to return to the Department of Mysteries where she had sequestered herself in the years since they'd graduated from Hogwarts.

"Still haven't given up the torch?"

Blaise didn't jump, only turned to gaze steadily back at his friend without expression. "It's not really a torch. More like a bonfire."

"Have you even spoken to her since you started working here?" Draco asked, stepping aside so Blaise could enter the Wizengamot courts ahead of him.

"She's hard to corner," Blaise admitted, setting his bag on the desk in front of the panel and pulling out the papers he'd need to prosecute the next case. "Have you spoken to her?"

"No, she's hard to corner," Draco repeated, straightening his court robes and pacing restlessly. "It's been years, Blaise, it might be time to move on."

"I haven't been a monk, Draco, but good things are worth waiting for," he explained, smiling for the first time since they'd entered the room. "I can be patient. How is Scorpius?"

"Growing like a weed. It's difficult when Astoria retrieves him, this new 'split custody' arrangement is hard on me. I don't know how muggle fathers stand it."

"It's very progressive of you," Blaise complimented, taking a seat and studying his friend as he continued to pace. "You could've invoked heir rights and kept him to yourself but you didn't. You did the right thing."

"I don't hate Astoria," Draco admitted, running his hand through his hair and sighing when the white blond strands fell in his face. "We married too young and too fast, when I was desperate to have a normal life and to move on from everything. I didn't want to punish her for not being able to love me when the reality was I didn't love her either."

"Speaking of moving on, have you started dating again? I imagine Narcissa has a list of potential wives to present." Draco cringed at the memory, Blaise had unfortunately been present that month after the final battle when his mother had cornered him and ordered him to start dating before she was too old to chase after grandbabies.

Unconsciously an image floated to mind when dating came up, a certain witch with café au lait skin and dark chaotic curls that refused to be contained. The last time he'd seen her had been at the Ministry spring equinox party where she'd worn red robes with a dangerously high slit and had laughed so hard at a joke Kingsley had told she'd snorted wine all over the man's robes. He'd found it disarmingly charming and had whimsically imagined if it had been him to make her laugh like that.

"No, not dating," Draco asserted before grinning, "much to mother's chagrin, I'm content to raise my son in peace these days."

"When is the next time Astoria has him? We should go get some drinks, make some trouble like we used to."

Draco thought it through and on a whim confirmed, "She'll pick him up this Wednesday."

There was something incredibly sexy about a man holding a baby, especially one who handled it well. Watching Draco cradle his mirror image against his chest one-handed while laughing and making small talk with Hannah Abbott was causing very disturbing tingles in Hermione's stomach so she turned away and tossed back the firewhiskey that was supposed to be added to her tea, not taken straight. Neville blinked at the action before gesturing towards the cup. "More?"

"No, not a good idea," she acknowledged with a grimace. "How are you, Neville?"

"I'm doing good, Hannah and I have set a date for the wedding and Headmistress McGonagall has given permission to have it on the grounds in front of the lake. Should be particularly beautiful in the spring with everything blooming." Neville continued to explain their plans but Hermione had already tuned out though she remained politely smiling and nodding at the appropriate intervals.

Across the room, Luna had finally cornered her target and planned to put her new approach to the test. "Hello George."

Even though she'd deliberately approached from the side where he still had hearing, he jumped. "Oh, hello Luna. Godric, you're quiet as a mouse."

"As are you, but you're not normally. How are you?"

He turned to face her fully, but leaned against the table so he didn't tower over her quite so badly. There was a foot of height difference between them and while the difference made Luna feel small and feminine, it made George feel oaf-like most of the time. "I'm doing alright. It's good to take a day off from the shop, feel like I've done nothing but work lately. Don't think Fred and I realized that even pranks can become tedious in time." He paused, scowling a bit and looking deep in thought for several seconds. "Might be if Fred was here it wouldn't be tedious."

"You could hire a manager for the shop and get back to inventing. You were always the creative one and Fred took care of logistics."

George blinked at the startling observation and smiled. "Most people didn't notice."

"I see a lot of things that others don't."

"Like nargles?"

Her smile stretched and lit up her entire face. "Like nargles. You've got a clever mind, George, I'm sure you can find a way to spice up your days if you tried." She stepped a little closer. "I have some ideas if you'd be interested."

George stared blankly because for a few seconds there he felt that Luna Lovegood was flirting with him. "Ideas?"

Luna conjured up her memory of Pansy's instructions: If all else fails, be direct. Nothing more attractive than a witch who knows what she wants.

"You've got a great mind, George, but you've also got great hands. I wouldn't mind if you wanted to use them on me." With that disclosure lingering in the air, Luna drifted away towards Hermione, walking slowly but deliberately towards Hermione who'd somehow managed to redirect Neville towards his bride and away from talking her ears off with wedding details.

"I think I'm ready to leave," Luna announced as she deliberately bumped into Hermione to break her stare. She'd been rather obviously watching Draco soothe his son as the boy began to whine. "Do you want to come with or would you rather ogle Draco Malfoy longer?"

"I'm not ogling."

"I don't think I knew you had a fetish for dads."

Hermione gaped and smacked her lightly on the arm. "I don't have a fetish for dads. I have a thing for blond tossers who apologize to me for being terrible as a teenager and then are perfectly pleasant to me in all social events since which makes me want to scream and ruffle his perfect hair until he shows some of the damn spirit he had in school. He always comes off so even-tempered, it makes me want to poke him."

"Poke him or poke him?" Luna asked, coloring the second phrase with a husky insinuation.

"You've been spending too much time with Pansy," Hermione declared with a private smile.

"Well, I just told George that I'd like him to put his hands on me so we'll see if boldness gets me anywhere." They both turned to study the other wizard, who was still leaning against the table with a look of bewilderment on his face like he'd just been presented with a conundrum.

"He looks surprised," Hermione observed, "but not disinterested."

"Hmmm," Luna hummed in agreement. "Let's leave before he comes out of it. Pansy says you should keep them wanting more."

George was still trying to wrap his mind around Luna's declaration when Ron popped up in front of him with a mouth full of cake that did not stop him from greeting, "Wotcher?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ronnie-kins."

He swallowed this time before speaking again. "What's that look for?"

"What look?"

"That dumb look after talking to Luna. I've never seen her looniness spread to someone else before-"

"Shut up and don't call her loony," George cut him off with an irritated look. "She just surprised me is all." Ron stared at him expectantly but George wasn't about to make his git younger brother a confidante. "What do you want, Ron?"

"Harry and I were talking about Neville's stag party and figured you'd have some good ideas. Might be nice to hold it somewhere other than Hogsmeade since he's there almost every weekend."

George acceded, "There are a few bars in Diagon Alley that would do better than the Leaky at least. When are you wanting to do it?"

"We figured we'd get through the Christmas holidays and plan for January. Gotta find a weekend where he's not supervising the students in Hogsmeade."

"Let me know when and I'll be there." George headed for the door, waving at Ginny and Harry as he headed out. He loved being with his family but sometimes these events could last too long. There'd been a time a few years back that he'd thought he and Angelina would be here with their own kids but that'd been a spell he'd dodged at the last minute.

It'd taken him far too long to realize that Angelina had been in love with both him and Fred. It made sense considering that she'd never been able to tell them apart in school, had treated them both the same, but on the other side of Fred's death it'd been almost impossible for her to separate the grief of losing Fred with the love she felt for George and it'd taken close to two years for them to admit that she couldn't see him without also seeing Fred and it'd left a wound that she couldn't get to heal.

He couldn't even find it in himself to resent her for it, though his mother was resentful enough for the both of them. Now that he found ironically funny since his own mother hadn't been able to tell them apart but the difference was that she was very aware of George as his own man now and it didn't compromise her love for him.

As George walked home he considered a new piece of information that just occurred to him. All through their youth, Luna had never mixed the twins up. Not even once.

Pansy wasn't delusional enough to think she could avoid Blaise Zabini forever. He'd finished his magical law education in Italy after the war and had returned as a barrister for the Wizengamot; they were working in the same building five days a week and they would run into each other. She very consciously kept tabs on his activities postwar so she'd always be forewarned and able to avoid any interactions until she was ready.

Monday morning she was not ready for it. Truth be told, the sun was too bright, she'd had too much vodka Saturday night, and plotting how to get Luna in George's pants all weekend had left her with a lingering headache that meant she wasn't ready for really anything other than a steaming cup of chai but she couldn't avoid work since she'd been disowned and needed a job to pay for the all the luxuries she'd used to take for granted.

There was a gorgeous pair of dragon-skin thigh high boots screaming her name at a little boutique in Diagon Alley that she'd been putting in a couple hours of overtime each week to get.

So she sucked up her bad attitude and headed into the Ministry and walked right into the confrontation she'd been avoiding for years.

It wasn't so much a confrontation as a conversation but with skill any conversation can be a confrontation if she wanted it to be.

"Hello Pansy," Blaise greeted her as they stepped out of the fireplaces and found themselves next to each other. If she didn't know it was impossible, she'd suspect he'd arranged this to happen. She was not prepared for his deep baritone and the way it resonated along her skin, small goosebumps dancing down to her fingers that were suddenly inclined to tremble.

"Hello Blaise," she returned coolly, stepping away from the floo network points before the next arrival bumped into her back. "Congratulations on your Inquisitor role, I'm sure you worked hard for it."

"Thank you, I did. Do you enjoy your work in the Department of Mysteries? I heard you joined right after graduation."

She tilted her head with an enigmatic smile and did not answer. They both knew she'd taken the Unspeakable Vow and could not speak of her work unless specially dispensed to do so by the Head of the Department.

"Will you have dinner with me? I would like to hear what you can tell me of the last few years."

"No," she declined, "but have a nice day."

She was still mentally kicking herself when she walked into the potion room in the Department of Mysteries, snidely mocking herself under her breath and ignoring Luna who was sitting on her work bench and juggling prophetic orbs like they weren't dangerous little harbingers of fate. "...have a nice day…bleh…"

"I always do," Luna rejoined, catching the glass balls and setting them in the velvet case at her side, "but you usually tell me to sod off, not to have a nice day."

"I ran into Blaise this morning and acted like an idiot."

"I highly doubt that, I don't think you're capable."

Pansy cracked a smile for the first time that morning. "You're getting better at flirting, I think I feel a blush coming on. Are those for me?" She gestured to the prophecies, suddenly eager to take her mind off of old loves and focus on her new project.

"Yes. Three older than dirt prophecies that have long since passed for you to crack like eggs and whip up something new and dangerous with." Luna paused, "you'll let me know when you need more? I'm culling most of the older ones but I can find newer ones if I look hard enough that you can use if the age affects the potion."

"You're still okay with being my test subject?" Pansy asked for confirmation, knowing the potion wouldn't be ready for some time but knowing the prospectus needed to be outlined and followed to ensure funding.

"Sure, seeing the future could be fun," she hesitated, "or stressful. Professor Trelawney always seems on the verge of a breakdown."

"Trelawney was a hack."

Luna shook her head, her white blonde hair dancing around her shoulders. "Not according to my archives."

The ladies had a standing date on Friday nights at Demons, Wise & Partners; it was where they'd gone that first night and found themselves creating an unexpected bond. Luckily that night the bar had a last minute cancellation so it was easy for the ladies to get a table and by end of night they had plans to do so again the next Friday. Next Friday became every Friday, and now they had a standing reservation for the booth six feet from the bar where the gorgeous bartender Adris served them instead of one of the servers. He was a well formed bloke with mahogany skin and a shaved head and an accent that reminded Hermione of a vacation she'd once taken with her parents to Jamaica, though she'd never bothered to confirm his heritage and had instead just watched amusedly while he and Pansy bantered back and forth acerbically.

Hermione was considering ordering another martini when Pansy stomped in and threw herself into the booth next to Luna and stole the rest of her current martini with a grimace. Luna and Hermione shared a communicative glance but while Luna was content to let Pansy stew, Hermione was not. "How many times does that make it then?"

"Three times," Pansy declared, "he's asked me to dinner three times. He was waiting for me at the street exit tonight, like he's memorized my schedule."

"Would it be so bad to talk to him?" Luna asked, "He's being very persistent, he must have thought of you often over the years."

"Don't be a romantic, Luna, it doesn't suit me."

Hermione sighed, "She's not wrong though. If Blaise was just being polite, he'd have stopped asking after the first time you told him no. I think I might respect him a bit more for not letting that deter him." Then she paused and thought through the situation more fully before circling back, "But if he's making you uncomfortable I can say something to him or have Harry say something. You shouldn't be nervous about entering or leaving your workplace."

"I'm not nervous," Pansy sneered, nodding at Adris as he dropped three new drinks for them and hurried back to the bar. "I'm entertained by how clearly he wants me but can't have me. It's an ego boost."

"You don't seem entertained," Luna observed, pulling her drink over and sliding it out of Pansy's reach seeing as she'd already slammed hers back like a shot and not at all like a cocktail should be drunk. "It is romantic though, and I'm living vicariously through you so how'd he do it this time? Were there flowers? Did he give you lovey eyes?"

"There were no flowers and no, he didn't ogle me. He was standing there, he smiled at me, and asked me to dinner, I said no, and he left. Didn't even glance back at me, the wanker." Hermione laughed and slid her martini over to Pansy who was glaring at their favorite bartender like she was trying to practice a non-verbal incendio and catch his apron on fire. "What's wrong, Luna, George didn't take the bait?"

Pansy was referring to the very blatant invitation Luna had delivered last month that she had been insistently requesting to see a Pensieve memory of since. Luna, however, did not want to share. While others might have felt humiliated that he hadn't responded in the expected manner, she was resigned. It unfortunately made sense that he wasn't attracted to her, not many men were. "No, he didn't. It's alright though, audaciousness doesn't suit me I think."

"Well, we'll just have to find you a bloke that is into the sex kitten fairy thing you've got going on," Pansy decided, her dark eyes dancing with mirth. "Or a lady, if you swing that way. Pretty sure I saw Dispella Wimbleton trying to look up your skirt on the stairs the other day."

"No, I quite like cock, thank you though."

Their laughter rang through the bar and drew more than a few eyes and both Pansy and Hermione were wiping tears from their eyes by the time they could get under control. "You say boldness doesn't suit you but then you say things like that."

Hermione nodded, "It's his loss, but now we can start looking for that good shag you've been wanting. Adris is quite cute," she nodded towards the bartender even as he caught her eyes and indicated he'd bring another round, "though he's more Pansy's type than yours."

"My type? I don't have a type."

Hermione scoffed, "Tall, dark, and handsome and more than willing to verbally spar with you and has even been known to get the last word? That's your type up, down, and sideways."

"You know me so well," she scorned but Hermione wasn't wrong, "what's your type, Princess?"

Hermione considered the question, tapping her fingers rhythmically as she thought of the physicality she preferred in intimate partners. "Well, we all know I have a weakness for Quidditch players, all that muscle but unfortunately they can be quite dim. I think in the end I just want a man who appreciates my intellect and can have a conversation but is also quite willing to pull my hair and spank me."

"And let you call him 'Daddy'," Luna added with a grin and a wink.

"You've brought that up often enough I'm starting to think that is a Luna-thing and not a Hermione-thing," she retorted before grinning back. "You are the one with a thing for older men after all."

Luna tilted her head and thought it through. "I've never tried it before but it sounds interesting. I just need a bloke to try it with."

"Moving on," Pansy announced as she pulled some muggle cash from her bag. "Let's eat and decide what movie we're renting tomorrow. I even bought some of those…umm…yogi pants to wear."

"I need your assistance."

Hermione's mind jumped to several things she'd be more than willing to help Draco with but all of them were naughty and none of them likely to happen during this inter departmental meeting that had been scheduled by her boss. "Unspeakable Croaker indicated as much. How can I help, Draco?"

"The Magical Beings Equality Pact is up for renewal next year and some members of the Wizengamot want to review and modify it before the vote. Since you wrote it, I thought you'd be the best person to partner with on the revisions." She was immediately angry and he could tell, if not from having spent years reading her expressions out of desire to understand her thoughts, but also because when she was angry her magic sparked in her curls and they started to float. He held up a hand to stave off the rant that was coming. "Not to change the intent, but to close several holes that are there that have been taken advantage of in the intervening years. Also to simplify it. Trust you to use 5000 words where 1000 would suffice."

"It was 5000 words to ensure there were no holes for bigoted wizards to use," she debated, leaning back and crossing her arms in temper, but she was already cooling down once Draco explained.

"And yet they found them anyway," he shot back, leaning forward and sighing. His long bangs slid forward and obscured one of his eyes and Hermione had the craziest urge to brush it back behind his ear. "The best laws are straightforward but definitive. The pact has to be voted back into effect at least three more times before it can be invoked as a precedential law. I've already had three wizards approach me about the wand allowance for magical beings because of the wand shortage. I think we're going to have more pushback before next year's vote, and likely more each time after that. I know you don't want that, you have worked too hard on this for it to fail."

Hermione nodded and held her hand out for the papers on his desk to be handed over. "I was…younger when I wrote it. Perhaps a bit sanctimonious and overly detailed when it came to clauses."

Draco laughed and it danced down her spine and she clenched her thighs together like it would hide the effect he had on her. "A bit sanctimonious? You practically bullied the remaining Wizengamot into passing it. What was it you said at the hearing? 'Get on board or get out of my way.' Like they'd be stupid enough to say no to one of the Golden Trio."

"I've been told no before," she denied with a pout. Draco's gaze was drawn to her lips and he deliberately looked away, but not before Hermione noticed. She couldn't recall him ever having looked at her like that before.

"No sane wizard would tell you no."

Hermione was very alarmed to realize that Draco had just flirted with her.

The paper airplane hovered above Pansy's potions bench until she looked up and gestured for it to drop. It fluttered open and despite the years of separation she recognized Blaise's handwriting.

Would you like to have tea tomorrow?

She hesitated before scribbling a firm 'No'.

Luna was skipping down Diagon Alley, shopping bags in hand, when George stepped out of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and waved at her. It was tempting to wave back and keep moving but that wasn't in her nature and so she skipped over with a welcoming smile. "Hello George! The shop looks pleasing in its Yule decorations, did you dye the Pygmy Puffs using organic ingredients or a charm? How did you train them to make those shapes, I think you were aiming for a stocking but that really appears more phallic."

George smirked as the phallic-ness of the air show the puffs were putting on was more intentional than accidental. "Lee has been working with them for a few months now, we were thinking of hiring them out during the season for parties and whatnot. I've been waiting for you to come in." He didn't continue, only paused to look down at her and shove his hands in his pockets. It wasn't that cold outside yet so she didn't think he could be cold.

"You were waiting for me?" Luna inquired, her brow furrowing in confusion. It'd been several months since they had spoken and she had been avoiding the shop as she didn't want to make him uncomfortable. In her experience, if she avoided someone long enough they'd forget whatever odd thing she had done that they didn't understand and would go back to just being friendly again.

"Yeah," he confirmed with a quiet laugh. "You used to come in at least a couple times a month but you haven't been by and I wanted to talk but didn't want to do it via owl post, so I've been waiting for you to stop by."

"I'm here now," she pointed out and gazed up at him unblinkingly.

George swallowed and stepped back before he was tempted too far. "Come on inside, it's just me right now. The hordes haven't descended for Christmas shopping yet." He flipped the hours sign to closed as she preceded him inside, pulling off her hat and scarf as she entered the warmer air. Her blonde curls were tousled and a bit tangled from being in the wool hat but she didn't care as she strode further into the shop. She could see several new items that weren't there last time, the first time that had happened in several years.

"You've been inventing," she noted, running her fingers over the new products with a pleased look.

"Yeah, I took your advice and hired a manager for the shop so I could work on new stuff."

"Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

"No," he denied, grasping her hand and pulling her over to his workroom behind the register and out of sight of any looky-loos who might be wandering around outside. "I really wanted to ask you a question. But first…" he trailed off before grasping her by the hips and lifting her onto the wooden desk to sit. "...you're giving me a neck ache looking down at you."

Luna's eyes had gotten wider than normal and her skin warmed from where he had touched her and lifted her with such ease. For several seconds she thought he was planning on taking her up on her offer and was going to snog her right then and there and she'd gotten excited but he immediately stepped back and had given her space.

They stayed like that for several minutes, neither saying anything; George gazing at her and she gazing at anything and everything that was not George. She saw several drawings on the desk next to her and a few prototypes laying about in pieces, one of them in burnt pieces, and she wanted to ask what he was doing with the demiguise fur that was slowly shifting in and out of sight in a jar behind his head but he spoke before she could.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" It was astonishingly direct for him, no sense of teasing or joviality, almost like he was taking the question very seriously which was out of character for him.

"Why?" She asked, finally making eye contact and truly bewildered by the question.

"Why?" George repeated, running his hands through his hair and down his face before explaining. "Because I want to spend time with you."

"Why?"

"Because…you're unique and you make me think and I haven't stopped dreaming about you since the party."

Luna nodded slowly, trying to wrap her head around his words. "You want to shag. We don't have to have dinner for that, George."

He frowned, "I don't just want to shag, Luna. If that's all I wanted I could go to the Leaky and get that done."

She squinted at him, her legs swaying back and forth as she thought some more. "You want to date me?"

"Yes!"

"That doesn't make sense, George."

"Why doesn't that make sense?"

"No one wants to date me, George," she explained matter-of-factly, ignoring the way he gaped at her. It was clear from her tone that she truly believed that preposterous statement. She was sitting on his bench in a rainbow tartan skirt with bedroom hair and shiny lips and thought it was incomprehensible that he'd want to date her when it was taking all his control not to kiss her.

"Well I'm a lady, and I don't shag until at least three dates in. Witch Weekly instructs that any earlier and I'm a tart," he pointed out instead, aiming for ease when nothing about this felt easy. "So, how about it? You, me, dinner that involves real plates and not paper takeout cartons."

Luna, who had more oblivious confidence than anyone he'd ever met before, looked uncertain for the first time in all the time he'd known her, and he'd known her since birth. "Okay, but…then we'll shag right? Cause I've been thinking about it for a while."

George grinned and blushed, something no woman had ever caused before. "Well I have hopes too, so I think we'll get there."

They had their heads bent over the parchment so closely that Hermione could smell the hints of cologne he must have used that morning, though it had been twelve hours ago. She could also see a hint of stubble that was appearing on his strong jawline and inexplicably wanted to run her hand over it to confirm it wasn't an optical illusion. Draco was always so well put together, from his smooth hair to his clean shaven face, that the imperfection of a five o'clock shadow didn't seem like it could be real. She, on the other hand, felt barely put together and all over shabby in comparison. She'd spent hours working in the Death room today generating new arithmancy equations and knew that her hair was likely atrocious from the overuse of her magic but the only thing that would settle it was a shower and sleep. Luckily, they were meeting at the end of the workday as it'd been the only time he had available, right after the Wizengamot was dismissed for the weekend.

"There," she proclaimed, setting her quill down and leaning back with a satisfied smile. "I think that perfectly encapsulates clauses 88 through 102 around ingredient collection from sentient beings."

Draco nodded solemnly and tilted his head left and right, cracking the tension out with a sigh. "Well, we shaved it down from 5000 words to 2000, that's better than I expected."

"We can work on it some more next week, if you have time," she offered, loath to admit that she had enjoyed the past two weeks and spending time with him. He was far quieter than she remembered but his keen intellect was still sharp and there were hints of a sense of humor that she could appreciate.

He glanced over and smiled with his eyes, even if his lips didn't curve. "Did the Gryffindor Princessl just volunteer to spend time voluntarily with a loathsome toad?"

"You're not so bad," she admitted with a sheepish grin. She gathered her things and shrugged. "I've got to head out, I'm meeting some friends for drinks but I do think we could tighten the pact up a bit more."

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure," she replied without thinking, but immediately mentally kicked herself. They'd kept things cordially professional with a little personal intermixed, but they had a good balance right now for colleagues. If she happened to have nightly wet dreams involving this colleague and what she was fairly certain was still a very fit Seeker body then she'd never admit it.

"How is Pansy?"

That was not what she was expecting him to ask.

"She's fine, why do you ask?"

Draco sighed and grimaced as he explained. "Blaise admitted that he's been asking her to meet but she keeps turning him down. I'd tell him to ambush her but…he doesn't want to take away her choice in the matter." They both knew why it was so important that Pansy felt in control and that her choices were being honored. "Is she really as unaffected as she seems?"

"I can't tell you what Pansy is feeling," she offered with a tight smile, "but I think that anyone who knows Pansy would tell you that if she truly didn't care she wouldn't bother to respond. She'd just ignore him. That is a woman who basically created the cold shoulder."

He nodded because he did know that, knew it personally from school when they'd dated and he'd inevitably angered her. "I regret that I wasn't able to be there for her after the war. I regret a lot of things from that time."

Hermione stepped closer and laid a hand on his shoulder, waiting until he looked up at her. "Muggles have a saying, hindsight is 20/20. It essentially means that things are always clearer when you look back, but your decisions led you here to this office, and to your son. I don't think either of those are things you'd be willing to give up just to go back and make a different decision. You're making a real difference, Draco, and I think we both know that you've got your eye on Chief Warlock and you're going to get it. On your own merits, not because of your family name." She checked her watch and swore, "Now I've got to go before Pansy is giving me the cold shoulder. We'll make time for tea next week. I want to see the pictures from Scorpius's birthday party. He's almost as adorable as Albus."

"He gets it from me," Draco boasted, standing up to grab his own coat and with a wave of his wand filing the paperwork in the appropriate drawers.

Hermione paused at the door, turning her head to run her eyes along his body from head to shoes and back again and Draco could almost feel it like a caress. With a saucy grin she contradicted him, "I don't think adorable is the word you're wanting."

The trio of women were having a lazy Saturday morning, perfectly content to doze until one of them was hungry enough to muster the energy to make breakfast. Somehow Pansy's head had ended up at the bottom of the bed and her feet on the pillow that Hermione was using, and Luna had stretched out across them both, though she was small and light enough it wasn't uncomfortable.

Hermione reached out from under the pillow for her bedside table where she thought she'd left her wand but it wasn't there and it took her several minutes of grasping at air before she huffed and pulled her head out to look.

Her bedside table wasn't there because this wasn't her bedroom.

She immediately rolled over on her back, tossing Luna off who immediately grumbled in disapproval before blinking herself awake. Pansy kicked them both lightly for bumping her before settling back down.

This wasn't her bedroom, it wasn't Luna's bedroom, and it wasn't Pansy's bedroom either.

"We were not drunk enough to end up in a stranger's bedroom," she whispered furtively to Luna, who fluttered her eyelashes as she tried to fight off sleep.

"We're not in a stranger's bedroom," she responded through a soft yawn.

"Where are we?"

"This is George's bedroom," Luna pointed out, nodding to the moving pictures of the Weasleys on the wall opposite as well as the view of Diagon Alley out the window.

"It's slowly coming back to me," Hermione moaned, pressing a hand against her head and throwing herself back down onto the pillow. "Something about floo network being shut down."

Pansy mumbled from the end of the bed. "Didn't trust ourselves to apparate and there was atmospheric interference with the floo."

"How can you breathe down there, you didn't even untuck the blanket," Luna asked, but before Pansy could dignify that with a surely sharp response the bedroom door opened and an entirely too gleeful George leaned in.

"I've always dreamed of having three women in my bed," he teased, "but in my fantasies I was in there too."

"Hello George," Luna hummed happily, tilting her head back so that he could place a soft greeting kiss. "This is also not how I thought my first night in your bed would go. Thought for sure there'd be orgasms."

Pansy pushed herself out of the bed and landed on the floor with a thump. "The better question would be are they George-provided orgasms or rubbed out after he falls asleep orgasms."

Hermione giggled and posited, "Oh, I don't doubt that George can deliver. He's got…big hands, doesn't he?"

George was now thoroughly horrified by the conversational turn and was blushing for the second time that month. "Oi, let's not discuss my attributes before my lady friend, I'd like her to find out for herself before you lot give her delusions of grandeur."

Luna's smile was completely unbothered as she stretched out her hands until George clasped them and helped her rise from the bed. "Let's make breakfast, George. Do you have bacon?"

"I'm a man, Luna, of course I have bacon."

Pansy watched the couple exit from her place on the floor before sighing and rolling herself into a beam of sunlight and stretching. "How many dates have they been on?"

"Two," and Luna had told them all the details, "and we're supposed to go shopping today for some sexy lingerie for the next one. She's gonna ride the George train even if she has to tie him down to do it."

"I can't tell if Luna had a secret kinky streak or if we've been a bad influence."

Hermione thought back to school and all the years she'd known her. "It's hard to tell, her head is usually off in the clouds and there's no telling what she's thinking." She rolled over so she could examine Pansy over the edge of the bed. "Or you for that matter. Might be why you two get along so well. I've never met a thought that didn't show on my face."

"It's why I like you," Pansy confided, "you're not very good at hiding things. Even without aspirating veritaserum, you're frustratingly straightforward. Makes you easy to manipulate."

"Well that's rude."

"How have your private meetings with Draco gone this week?" Pansy imbued the words private meetings with salacious meaning and leered up at her.

"Just fine, we work well together," her response was prim and proper.

"He didn't toss your robes up over your head and give you a good spanking? Tell you what a good girl you are?"

Hermione gasped and howled with laughter before tossing a pillow off the bed and hitting Pansy in the face. "Okay, that's a new one and that might…be a bit too close to a secret kink so we're leaving that alone."

George's softly asked "Spanking?" echoed through the open door, and Luna shushed him and told him to focus on the bacon and not on eavesdropping.

"Are you ever going to talk to Blaise?"

Pansy ignored the question and instead closed her eyes and let the warm sunlight soak into her bones. Finally she conceded, "I'm not ignoring him. I don't know what to do with him."

"He's not a task to be completed, Pansy. All he seems to want to do is talk to you."

"Men never just want to talk, and that's all I've got to give right now."

Hermione rolled off the bed and landed next to her, ignoring the unladylike grunt that came when she hit the floor. She pressed her side against Pansy's and they lay together in the sun. "Do you really want to risk there being a day when he doesn't want to talk to you anymore?"

For the first time in years, Pansy didn't spend Christmas alone. When she woke up, there was a small pile of gifts at the base of her bed and she immediately thought of the few holidays she spent at Hogwarts and seeing her roommates tear into the gifts with abandon while she deliberately and sedately opened her own without ceremony. She always received the expected gifts from her parents that ranged from new robes to books about how to trap wizards with feminine wiles to costume jewelry containing minor curses to deter female rivals who were silly enough to steal from her. As if she was foolish enough to leave her good jewelry lying about the dormitory. Today was different however, and she instead received a velvet cape she'd been eyeing during a shopping trip with her friends but she'd denied herself since she was still saving for the boots. There were some scented candles, a new book around the science of divination that had just published two weeks ago by the Honorable Wizards of the Order of Oxford that she'd been unable to get an early copy of, as well as the muggle toffee candies she'd developed an addiction for thanks to too many movie nights at the theatre.

And that was good enough for her. She felt seen and cared for in a way that was almost entirely foreign. Just starting off on that different foot made the rest of the day brighter than it had been in the years previous. She continued puttering around her flat and expected to spend the rest of the holiday in her pajamas, eating toffee, and reading the new study she'd been gifted. She had high hopes they'd be able to give her new ideas on how to incorporate the prophetic orbs into the potion for summoning visions.

She was quite surprised when her floo flared brightly in the early evening and Hermione and Luna came walking through one right after the other. They were chattering loudly, their hands full as they walked past her and into her tiny kitchen. "Come eat, Pansy! We've brought dinner."

She stood and vanished the candy wrappers that had surrounded her on the settee. "What are you two doing here? I thought you were having dinner in the weasel's den?"

"We did, but then things were getting rambunctious and crowded so we nicked some leftovers and popped over," Hermione explained, smiling at her as she pulled off her coat and scarves, clearly intending on staying for a while.

"Mrs. Weasley makes a delicious roast, I had to hex George to keep him from going back for thirds," Luna commented, enlarging the dishes from her hand until there were several steaming plates of food that immediately had Pansy's stomach growling despite the copious amounts of candy she'd already indulged in.

"You didn't have to come over, I'm used to being alone during the holiday."

"Just because you're used to it doesn't mean you have to be." Hermione noticed the book on the sitting room table. "Do you like the book? Professor Hendrix made several interesting notations around genetic predisposition for clairvoyance."

"Don't change the subject," Pansy admonished before turning to Luna. "How did the announcement go?"

"They didn't seem to care," Luna answered with a dreamy look. "Bill congratulated George on 'landing a good one' and they all just went on eating."

"What Luna doesn't realize is that most of them saw George grabbing her bum at the Weasley Wizard Wheezes' Christmas party yesterday so it wasn't a surprise," Hermione confessed with a laugh.

She was happy for her friend, she really was. With that being said, however, she couldn't help but point out. "I knew you were glowing, Luna. I guess now we know why."

Hermione jested, "Slag, I'm jealous. I had to buy a new Quivering Crup cause my old one stopped working."

Pansy snorted, "The Crup model?"

"It's got that forked tail. Glorious!"

"Back to the point," she redirected back to Luna, mock glaring at Hermione. "We demand the details. And that you hand me that shepherd's pie, it smells amazing."

The Ministry's annual New Year's Ball had officially moved past a jolly good time and was fast approaching a riotous jamboree. It started at eight and generally by ten anyone not inclined to getting sloshed and sloppy exited through the side door and left the rest of the employees to let loose and do things they'd doubtless regret the next morning.

It was past eleven thirty and Hermione had practiced surprising restraint and was instead doing a slow circuit around the room and making note of what she could use for blackmail in the future for when she needed a favor that certain departments weren't inclined to grant.

Dean Thomas caught her eye and gestured for her to join him in a dance and she was on the verge of doing so when a deep voice drifted out of the open door nearby and her curiosity peaked. She stepped to the cracked door and sure enough Draco was kneeling in front of a fireplace and talking with a house elf.

"-if he wakes, send me a message and I'll return immediately, but for right now don't expect me for at least a few more hours. Don't worry about staying up, Mimsy."

"I'll make you a nice cuppa tea and leave it on your bedside table and turn down the be-"

"Not necessary, Mimsy. I can take care of myself when I get home."

The house elf fussed for several more minutes, muttering under her breath that she was going to do it anyways, Draco was an important wizard and she was honored to serve him and the tiny master Scorpius and he'd not be sending her to bed without completing her chores, no sirree, he would not.

Draco huffed a laugh as the fire flared red and the floo closed, standing and brushing ashes from his sharply cut suit before jumping like a rabbit when he spotted Hermione at the door. "Spying, Granger?"

"I work for the Department of Mysteries, Draco," she reminded him with a grin, sauntering into the shadowed room and approaching slowly, reaching out and brushing a missed piece of ash from his shoulder. "We collect secrets like currency. I'm always watching. How's Scorp?"

"According to Mimsy, sleeping deeply after a sugar crash of epic tale since my mother allowed him far too many cookies." He smirked and added, "She doesn't mention that she started giving him the cookies this morning before my mother even arrived."

She was still standing close, having not stepped back after touching his shoulder, so close that she could feel the warmth of him better than that of the fire. "What's your new year's resolution?"

He cocked his head in confusion. "Resolution?"

"I think it might be a muggle thing," Hermione explained, stepping back and seating herself on the desk, deciding she wasn't in a rush to go back to hubbub outside. The door was still cracked for propriety but the revelers didn't seem as inclined to bother them in the quiet office. "They believe that you should pick something you want to change in the new year. Start the year off as you mean to go on and all that."

"What's your resolution?" Draco asked, resting his arm on the mantle and studying her. She clearly hadn't imbibed as much as some of the others, preferring to keep a clear head much like he had.

"I'm going to be Head Unspeakable," she boasted confidently, biting her lip and winking. "Croaker just doesn't know it yet."

"Mutiny in the Department of Mysteries, I fear what that could mean for Wizarding London."

She laughed, tossing her head back and sending her curls dancing over her shoulders. Draco followed the movement, his eyes tracing all the bare skin her dress robes didn't cover. "I would never use my power for evil, Draco. What's your resolution going to be?" Her eyes seemed darker than usual, the firelight flickering along with mischief in the reflection.

Outside of the room there were cheers as the countdown began and people began to chant in excitement.

Draco swallowed and stepped away from the fireplace, unsure if he was sweating because of the fire or the sudden trepidation that struck him in his chest. "Start the year how I mean to go on, huh?" He licked his lips and took another step closer. "I think I will resolve to do something that scares me."

"That's a good one," Hermione complimented, her eyes closing as she listened through the cracked door for the countdown. There were only seconds left in the year.

"Since we're indulging in muggle traditions, don't they also kiss at the stroke of midnight?"

Hermione felt jolted, her eyes flying open as she looked at Draco incredulously. "Yes."

The crowd outside screamed in cheer and several loud noise makers exploded in deafening cacophony as Draco leaned down and pressed his mouth to her's.

"I shagged Draco Malfoy on New Year's."

Pansy glanced at Hermione over the pages of the Daily Prophet she was trying to read. "Good for you."

"That's all you have to say?"

Pansy snapped the pages back to shape and went back to skimming. "Yes."

"Where's my enthusiasm? We made Luna give details about George," Hermione huffily asked, crossing her arms and bouncing her foot. She'd thought her announcement was perfectly dramatic and needed a suitably dramatic response.

"I've shagged Malfoy, I don't need your details, I have my own," Pansy retorted, finally putting the paper aside and giving Hermione her full attention. "Though it was years ago; hopefully he put on a better show for you than he did me."

"Godric, I forgot about that," Hermione realized with a small look of disgust. "I think sometimes I forget we knew each other in school, we're so different now."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Pansy rudely gestured for the server to make her way over. "How long until Luna gets here? I might eat this tablecloth if I don't have some breakfast soon."

"She was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. Let's just order for her and if she doesn't like what she gets we can swap."

Blaise enchanted the paper into the form of a plane and watched as it zoomed off down the corridor, taking another request down to the Department of Mysteries that would doubtless return with a decline.

As long as she kept responding, there was a chance it might surprise him.

Luna eyed the potion bottle dubiously, the liquid swirled gray and stormy, small sparks of what looked like lightning flashing and thunder vibrating the glass as she held it. "How safe is this?"

"It's a derivative of the memoriam exasperans potion, which allows the drinker to clearly remember memories better. The idea is that replacing memordie essence with the orb essence will enable the drinker to prompt Visions," Pansy explained, taking the potion and giving it a shake until the lightning was flashing against the walls of the bottle violently. "Clairvoyance in a bottle."

"We've conducted several tests, but nothing in the potion is toxic," Hermione clarified, reviewing Pansy's notes one last time before the test. "With your genetic history, we believe you'll be more likely to have a successful vision."

"My mother was a Seer," Luna agreed, taking the potion back and lowering herself onto the large pillow on the floor. "But she never saw anything of importance. It was mostly silly everyday things."

"It's not about life-changing Potter-esque prophecies," Pansy denied, setting up the diagnostic spell to hover over Luna. "I really just want to see what happens in the brain during a Vision. The question has always been…are visions like a muscle that flexes in the brain or do they occur independently of the body? And what causes them? If it is in the brain," Pansy grinned maniacally, "I have a whole room of them down here to play with."

"I'm still traumatized by that room, can we not mention it please?" Luna requested, laying down and popping the top off the bottle. "Bottoms up!"

Her eyes immediately rolled back into her head until only white remained.

Hermione jumped to her feet and leaped across the room but Pansy grabbed her arm before she could touch Luna. "Don't! She's not hurt, look!"

They watched as Luna laid down slowly, muttering to herself so low that they couldn't decipher what she was saying. It only lasted a minute before she sat back up, her blue eyes clearing as she shook her head like she was dusting herself off. "That was weird."

"What happened?"

Luna smiled reassuringly at Pansy and held out her hand for her to help her rise. "Well, I did have a vision."

"What was it?"

"How did it feel?' Pansy asked at the same time, her wand flicking frenetically as she read the results of the spell that still floated in the air. "Any pain? Discomfort?"

"No, it felt…like walking into a lake. Like water slowly coming up my body but it wasn't wet just heavy and it happened within seconds. And then it was like thinking of a memory. I couldn't see all the details but I could think of the broad strokes of it, the feeling it gave me."

"What did you see?" Hermione repeated, flicking her own wand and casting a diagnostic spell to check her vitals.

"It was a morning, just a typical morning sometime in the future, not sure when but I think not far…With me and George and both of you and…well, we were happy. I remember laughing and being happy." There were a couple of other people there but Luna didn't share that. It was the danger of revealing too much of the future, words spoken at the wrong time could cause that future or cause it not to happen.

She really wanted that day to happen.

Pansy and Hermione began to bicker amiably about the results of the brain scan, and Luna tuned them out as she thought through the experience again. There were fuzzy bits, things that didn't make sense, but she could remember a clean slice of the event almost like a picture. George was sitting next to her, telling a joke to Draco Malfoy who had one arm around Hermione, who was feeding Scorpius some oatmeal. Pansy sat directly across from her, scowling as usual but her hand rested on the table and Blaise sat beside her with his own hand resting near, his pinky just barely touching Pansy's. Despite the scowl, Pansy had looked content, Hermione had looked happy, and Luna could remember that a laugh had been bubbling out of her throat as George finished his lewd joke.

Then she surfaced and it faded like a dream, growing fuzzier if she tried to think about it harder.

"Yes!" Pansy shouted, zooming in on an luminescent scan of her brain and pointing to a particularly bright spot. "Clairvoyance is physical, not magical. Look at this reaction! This part of the brain was overly active the entire time."

"Well look at that," Hermione cheered, clapping slowly. "I think you just rewrote the entire science of divination, Pansy Parkinson."

She smiled at them and it was open and guileless in a way they'd never seen from her. "I don't even know what to do with this information, or where to take it. There's so many possibilities."

"George and the stag party are going to be here later," Luna confessed to Pansy after Hermione excused herself to the loo.

Pansy gawked at Luna before taking a deep drink of her wine. "Why would they be coming to a muggle bar?"

"I told George to bring them," she explained, licking her finger and passing it around the rim of her glass until a low hum sounded. "Hermione has been avoiding Draco for several weeks now, I think they need to get it out in the open."

"Are you playing matchmaker?"

"They've already matched up, they're just being stubborn. Not unlike someone else I know."

"We're not talking about me," she refuted, poking the blonde in the side as she did so. "This bar is sacred. This is where we established our friendship last year. No boys allowed."

"Not boys, men," Luna crooned in a meditative state. "George is going to ask me to move in."

"Did you have another vision?" Pansy worried, wondering if she'd accidentally caused lingering effects with her potion.

"No, he was talking about it with Lee and didn't know I could hear him."

Pansy laughed, nodding her head at Hermione who'd just returned. "You've picked up bad habits from Hermione if you're eavesdropping. Guess what, 'Mione, we're apparently joining the stag party later. Or they're joining us, I guess you could say. Think I'll duck out before they get here."

"Why would Neville's stag night be coming here?"

"Because Luna invited them. Oh, and she's moving in with George," Pansy dropped before finishing her wine and grabbing her coat.

"I didn't say I was moving in, I said he was planning to ask," Luna corrected, her little nose in the air prissily.

Hermione laughed, "You're going to say yes, and you're not fooling anyone with that look." Hermione waved goodbye to Pansy and turned glinty eyes back to Luna. "Who all joined that party?"

Luna smiled and shrugged, feigning absent-mindedness. "Oh, this and that, a little of every house I think."

"Don't be obtuse, is Draco coming?"

"Yes," Luna snatched Hermione's sleeve when the witch made to slide out of the booth, "but you're not going anywhere. Time to put on your big girl panties and talk to him and maybe shag him in a public place again if you're lucky."

"I'm not shagging him in a bar," Hermione swore with a laugh. It was too late to escape anyways as she spotted a familiar ginger head that rose easily six inches above everyone else in the bar. "Your lover is here."

Luna turned and waved at George, radiating happiness as he slid next to her and greeted her with a deep kiss that had entirely too much tongue for propriety. When he came up for air, the rest of his party had joined them and dragged over a few tables and were busy ordering ale and settling in, though they'd also clearly already had a few drinks.

Draco very deliberately dropped onto the booth bench next to Hermione and forced her to slide in until she was trapped between him and the wall. He was oddly flushed though she couldn't tell if it was from the cold outside or the drinking the gentlemen had already done that night. "How's the pub crawl going?"

"What's a pub crawl?" He answered her question with a question, making her grin.

"It's what you're doing for Neville's stag party. It means that you go from bar to bar to pub to bar and drink yourself silly. I was under the impression that stag parties focused on naked dancing bars, but to each their own I guess. Can't really see Neville watching naked witches writhing on brooms anyways."

"Only one witch I want to see naked," Draco pointed out with a significant look.

Hermione lowered her voice so that the others didn't overhear. "I figured it was a fluke, something for a laugh."

"No, I took it quite seriously," he pulled off his coat and tossed it into the empty chair next to him, very smoothly turning back and sliding his arm along the top of the bench behind her head so that they faced each other directly and had some privacy from the rest of the bar. "It's my resolution."

She laughed, biting the tip of her thumbnail as she tried to hide the blush that was creeping up her neck and face. "I thought your resolution was to do something that scared you."

"You do scare me, you're the smartest witch of our age and will probably be the Minister someday. You said I should start the year off as I intended to go on, so I did."

"Snogging me?"

"I was going to say being inside of you any chance I get, but yes, please," and he did. She could taste a mix of Guinness and whisky on his tongue, and while she'd always thought his lips a tad thin they were soft and warm against her own. George wolf-whistled ear-splittingly across the table but it wasn't enough to break the singular focus that Draco had on tasting every bit of her mouth that he could reach with his tongue.

When they finally broke for air, Hermione's fingers were tangled in his white blond hair and he was scanning her face with quiet introspection. "Well…you should've said before. We could have done this weeks ago if you had."

"What part of 'you scare me' wasn't clear?"

Monday morning Pansy was still sitting in her kitchen and finishing the Daily Prophet and her chai when a small owl tapped at the window. A small dance of her fingers had the window sliding open, bringing in a cold breeze and a small letter that was politely dropped next to the cup.

I'd settle for a friendly drink after work.

She thought about it for ten minutes before summoning a quill to write a response.

Just one.

A couple of smutty outtakes to follow, I couldn't resist.

Something about this trio of witches has always appealed to me because they always seemed to be outliers even within the friend groups. I liked the idea that they would connect later in life and be friends. Someone told me I basically wrote Sex and the City with witches, and while that wasn't the intention, they're not wrong, ha!