Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter & co. - just write what could have been :)

Chapter Three

Hermione was glad she was holding onto Nott and Zabini because the apparition was a little rocky; her head fuzzy and her stomach in knots, she looked towards her left, towards Nott. He frowned at seemingly nothing and looked at her. With an intense softness in his eyes, she saw Nott's left arm twitch slightly.

"I'm sorry, the anti-muggleborn wards were removed but I felt the discomfort. Are you okay?"

She let a shaky smile on her lips and nodded once.

"Just a little off, but nothing too harsh."

She answered him, reassuring him. Hermione wasn't lying, the apparition was rocky, but she had handled worse than off apparitions in Pureblood manors. Hermione slid her hands off the pair while Zabini walked towards her right, disappearing into a corridor. The Nott Manor was apparently going through a remodeling. The Gothic styled architecture was currently being demolished and Hermione could see the circular architecture of Baroque peeking through. The dark stone beneath her was being replaced with a much lighter one.

"How long is the remodeling going to take?"

"Oh, I turned off your stove before we left."
Hermione asked after staring down at the cracks, the same time Nott started speaking. She smiled slightly before looking at him,

"Oh, thank you, but I have security wards at my flat. They would have – "

"Of course."

Nott interrupted, smirking before offering his arm again and while Hermione hesitated, she ended up slapping his arm lightly and began walking towards where she saw Zabini disappear to. Nott chuckled softly and she saw him walked besides her.

"Probably six months or seven for the first half of the manor. The rooms will probably take less, but I wanted the foyer first."

Nott answered. Hermione hummed in response as she slowed down her pace. She let Nott lead her towards whatever part of his manor they were going to drink at. Her stomach stayed in knots, but now it wasn't just due to the apparition.

"I had curse-breakers come look at the place before I officially moved in."

Nott started talking about his ancestral home, supplying most of the conversation while Hermione struggled with her nerves.

"I know it is a right mess right now but I'm hoping by the summer for most of it to be done. Since I'm the Nott heir, I didn't have a ton of paperwork to work through once my father was sentenced."
Nott paused for a few seconds. Hermione finally looked at him instead of the endless corridor in front of her, a different knot forming in her stomach. Nott seemed to catch himself and continued,

"I just had to sort through a ton of dark artifacts and ugly portraits."

Hermione laughed at this and Nott finally smiled again before they entered a brightly light room. It was the size of her flat times two with giant windows that doubled as doors. Adjacent to the windows was a large fireplace already warming the room. The wooden floor was covered by a giant, dark azure embroidered rug while three, single coffee-colored lounge chairs sat atop. There was a crème-colored ottoman in front of the window doors and Hermione smiled to herself at the very non-Syltherin colored theme. Blaise was already claiming the ottoman as his leg slung over it with a drink already in hand. He smirked at the pair of them entering, raising his glass.

"What a gentleman you are, Blaise."

Nott scowled at his friend. He led Hermione to the lounge chair besides Zabini and while Hermione wanted to get her own drink, she knew Nott had these manners hammered into him since probably the age of seven.

"Now why would I do that when I know Granger adores a more lax nature?"
Zabini said. Hermione rolled her eyes at him but didn't disagree and Zabini's smirk grew. Hermione took the opportunity to place her jacket on her chair's back. Hermione wasn't used to the prim manners of her Slytherin peers; Ron was never like this and Neville's manners mattered less when he was too shy to convey. While Zabini was right, she wasn't gone to let his smug smirk grow even more. Nott walked towards her, two drinks in hand as he offered a wine glass to her. She took it and before she could ask, he said,

"It's Elfin wine."

Hermione nodded and looked down at the bright red liquid before taking a sip. It wasn't entirely bitter, but it was definitely a little too dry for her taste. She must have made a face because Zabini started laughing while Nott scowled again. Nott chose to sit on the other side of her.

"Not your fancy?"

Zabini asked, his smirk apparently permanent.

"Just a tad dry."
She answered truthfully but drank more this time. She wasn't going to not drink it, she's had worst. Zabini grinned at her and got up, making his way to the bar cart that had a Notice-Me-Not charm. The bar cart was definitely nicer than she would have owned. It was a dark metal cart with the endings molded into spirals. There was Ogdin's firewhiskey, different meads Hermione hadn't heard of, the Elfin wine was already in an glass aerator, and there were other spirits in brightly colored glasses.

"Luckily for you, I knew the wine would be too much."

Hermione stopped staring the cart and rose her eyebrows at the back of Zabini. She purposely drank another gracious sip of wine. Nott tutted and rolled his eye, taking his own sip of what Hermione assumed was firewhiskey.

"Nott wanted to impress you with his century old Elfin wine, but I think taste horrible by itself."

Zabini said and Hermione turned to look at the scowling Nott. He's scowl transformed into a frown as he turned to look at her.

"I thought you would like it."

"You were trying to impress her."

Zabini interrupted, still arranging drinks at his end. Hermione schooled her surprised into a pleasant smile before looking at Nott. She sipped on her wine again.

"That was very thoughtful, Nott. Thank you, I'm just not a wine connoisseur."

She said. Hermione was pleasantly surprised that Nott was making an effort as she herself made an effort to become friends with the pair. At least both parties were putting in work and it wasn't just her. Zabini finally finished his busy work and made his way back, two glasses now in hand as Nott had previously done.

"Here try this."

He offered her one of the glasses before casually sitting on the ottoman again. She didn't have time to protest as he didn't give her a choice, so Hermione was awkwardly stuck with two glasses. Nott scowled again and retrieved his wand from his side. Hermione watched him as he muttered,

"Accio coffee table."

And then in few short seconds, a dark brown coffee table was in front of her. She smiled again at Nott before placing the wine glass on the table. She looked down at the lighter brown liquor before taking a drink.

"Blishen's firewhiskey – smoother and lighter."

Zabini offered as she felt the warmth spread through her. Zabini was right, it was stronger, but she liked the hint of cinnamon the whisky offered. Hermione didn't turn to face Zabini's smug person but instead turned to Nott who was watching them.

"Harry told me that you're working with the Aurors to find and confine the dark artifacts that the Death Eaters left behind."

Hermione felt more compelled to speak to Nott about something she already knew about him opposed to a very pleased Zabini. This was Nott's house and his invitation and while Hermione would have just sat in silence, she was supposed to be trying. Hermione crossed one leg over the other, shifting her body to pay attention to Nott.

"I thought it would be beneficial from someone who already knew about them to assist. Plus, it doesn't hurt my public opinion."

Nott said and winked at her in the end. Hermione rolled her eyes but laughed softly, nodding and taking another sip of the Blishen. Nott wasn't wrong; there was already gossip articles circulating the Nott heir and his reformed ways. It also helped that Nott hadn't taken the Dark Mark so he was seen in a different light than the younger Death Eaters. Zabini was in the same boat; Hermione had heard that the Italian was starting his own company, but the preciseness of the company was still in the air. Most of her Slytherin classmates had been spared from the public defamation and slander against Death Eaters as long as they didn't have the Mark and contributed to society "positively". Those who did have the Mark had a much harder time rejoining wizarding society – some had vanished into different parts of Europe entirely.

"What about you, Granger? How's the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures treating you?"

Nott asked her. At the mentioned of her job, Hermione perked up.

"It's going well! I mean at first it was so ridiculously slow but partially that was my fault. I hadn't researched enough about the blood wards and magic that go into having elves. My naivety at Hogwarts was definitely a blunder that I was embarrassed about. To be honest I was completely blindsided on that, but after that, things began to run much more smoothly. We're trying to push through, not completely disbanding magical servitude because it's nearly impossible and not to mention detrimental to elves themselves, but to regulate how the elves are treated and working under acceptable conditions."

Hermione realized she was ranting and started blushing. She was glad for her darker skin tone to conceal the blood rushing to her face.

"S-Sorry, I tend to go off on a tangent."

She apologized with a weak smile and on impulse, downed the rest of her drink. The warmth spread throughout her as the embarrassment equaled it, but Hermione avoided Nott's gaze as she forced herself to stare into the fireplace. The cracking of the wood was memorizing and was safer bet to stare at. Zabini cleared his throat and Hermione stole a glance at him. He nodded once at her before drinking his own, Hermione assumed Blishen as well, and his dark eyes stayed on her.

"Elfin magic is tricky. I remember as a prank, I tried to free all my mum's elves, and well, as soon as they all started wailing, my mum thought my prank was better rewarded not having an elf assistance for two weeks. Horrid two weeks of my life."

Blaise chuckled at the end and Hermione's eyes widened slightly but she masked her surprise. She also couldn't help her own laugh escaping her. She was glad that the embarrassment was fading, and she focused on the warmth of the wine and firewhiskey she had previously consumed.

"I'm sure it was the absolute worst."

Hermione added before giggling at Zabini's somber nod. Hermione could picture a small Zabini cleaning his own room and bringing his own food to his table and Hermione couldn't help to laugh more. In a few seconds, she couldn't stop laughing and Blaise had joined in, surely thinking what she was.

"Poor baby, Zabini. Cleaning his own mess."

Nott added fuel to the laughter. Hermione was clutching her stomach, tears starting to fall at the sheer joy she was experiencing. Experiencing a carefree feeling she hadn't felt in a while.

Pansy Parkinson was internally seething, externally cool. She stood in her five-inch heels wearing a dark shaded pencil skirt and a light mint, ruffled top, cotton blouse was tucked in accentuating her petite figure. Over her figure, she wore a heavy, lavender shaded cloak. Her violet shade eyes narrowed slightly as the man in front of her reached towards and that stopped him in his track.

"I was just tryin' to explain that we don't serve his – "

"Yes, yes his kind."

The jet-black haired witch snapped at the short, stubby pub owner. She saw him visibly gulp and that placated her a teensy bit. She glanced towards her right, towards the brooding, but very intoxicated platinum blond wizard leaning over the brick structure. While Pansy didn't consider herself lucky, she was mentally thanked Morgana and Circe for allowing her in the same vicinity the same time Draco Malfoy was being kicked out of a pub. Right when she was leaving her business appointment in a coffee shop next door, she saw the disgustingly short pub man screaming at the too-noticeable blond.

"We'll be taking our leave."

She said shortly and wasted no time in attending her friend before he made a mistake.

"Draco."

She softened immediately and reached towards him, but he slapped her hand away; Pansy anticipated his movement and with her other hand, reached for his right forearm.

"This isn't going to be pleasant."
She whispered to him before a pop! followed them. Pansy stumbled too harshly for her liking with Draco leaning against her for support. She barely had time to help him on his knees without falling when he started barfing. Her small, round nose turned up at the sight and smell but she chose not to reprimand her already drunk friend. Pansy knew he was already in a mood, she wasn't going to upset him even more, especially when she had no back-up – yet. She held onto his sides so he wouldn't fall over for at least ten seconds before he finally stopped making noises.

"Can you walk?"

She asked him, the winter breeze whipping through them. She saw him shiver and gripped tighter, sighing softly in relief when she felt Draco's wand. Quickly, she nicked it from his coat pocket and placed it in the inside of her own cloak. She did not need Draco splinching himself sloshed. She waited a couple more seconds before straightening herself up, holding onto Draco as she did.

"I can do it."

He snapped, pushing her off. She warily eyed him when he wobbled, making sure he didn't fall in his own regurgitation. However, he straightened up quickly and she whispered a warming charm over him. He stopped shivering but didn't say anything. Pansy took this chance to start walking towards the giant, wooden doors, making sure Draco wasn't too far behind. The gravel crunched underneath her and while Draco swayed, Pansy walked with ease.

"Why didn't you take me to my flat, Pansy?"

She heard him ask but chose to ignore him. The sooner she found the rest, the better. She couldn't handle Draco like this. Before she reached towards the door handle, an ugly metal serpent, it swung up. In the light and the warmth, Theo Nott stood, eyeing his friends with astonishment.

"Where did Nott go?"

Hermione finally had the chance to ask, her cheeks warmer than ever. Hermione was sure it was the mixture of the warmth the fire was producing, the liquor she had consumed – was it the fifth or sixth cup?, – and the ridiculous jokes Zabini was making. Nott had excused himself a few minutes ago but she felt that his absence was taking longer than polite manners called for. Zabini shrugged, his own alcohol consumption appearing as glassy eyes and shakier hand-eye coordination. Hermione hummed at his answer, leaning her head back against the soft chair, and allowing the inebriation to settle on her. She was happy, happy for once since her break-up from her Ron, and happy she was surrounded by others. Not by herself in her own flat with only Crookshanks for company.

"Probably making sure our suites are ready."
Zabini said softly and another warmth spread throughout Hermione. Suites? She was consistently surprised by the generosity that Nott and Zabini exhibited. She wasn't used to anyone but her own close friends being so considerate and even then, Harry had taken awhile to open up. While Hermione didn't want to pay attention to the rumors that all Slytherin wear selfish, practiced in the Dark Arts, and were usually cold, if not hostile, most of her Slytherin classmates chose to be perfect examples of those stereotypes. Now, spending time with Nott and Zabini, she was reminded that stereotypes were harmful and not accurate. Both Nott and Zabini were incredibly attentive and accommodating and she had spent less than a day with them. It took years to get her closest friends to open up to her. She didn't know if it was sheer luck or the push of Harry Potter that was making these friendships easier.

"Penny for your million thoughts, Granger?"

Zabini asked her snapping her back to reality. She opened her eyes and straightened up, seeing a smirking Zabini. She opted for silence, shrugging and letting her head fall back into warmth bliss. After a few seconds though, she could tell Zabini was still studying her. She hadn't heard him sink back into his seat.

"I was just thinking this was nice."

She whispered.

"Nice."

Zabini said back. Hermione nodded but didn't open her eyes just yet. She was given herself a moment before starting another conversation with smug Slytherin but then she heard footsteps. Multiple footsteps. Quizzically, Hermione straightened up again, opening her eyes to move herself to look at the direction Nott had disappeared to. She saw Zabini do the same, but chose to lean his arms against his knees, less alert than she seemed. The room was warm and fuzzy, much like her, but she forced herself to clear her thoughts. Had Nott invited more people? Who else? How many else? Nott appeared, a too bright smile on his lips as he spotted her and he moved back, allowing his new guests to come in. Before she could ask, Pansy Parkinson strolled in dressed as she had walked out of an office magazine with such self-confidence, Hermione would kill for. All curiosity was wiped from Hermione's face. She steeled herself and parted her lips to say something when Draco Malfoy walked in behind her. Understatement – he nearly toppled over Parkinson, losing his footing. Parkinson though, grabbed his arm and made sure he didn't fall on his face, as humorous as that would have been. While Hermione was certain she was still drunk, possibly hallucinating from the mixture of century old Elfin wine and firewhiskey, she needed to leave. The mood had been effectively ruin at the appearance of the other Slytherin duo. She could be with Nott and Zabini, that's what the reason she had opened her door for them, she could handle both. But now Parkinson and Malfoy? Hell's circles will freeze over, Hermione thought to herself. Hermione abruptly stood, grabbing her coat, and began saying,

"I-I should go."

"Granger."

"Wait, Granger."

Zabini and Nott began saying, but Parkinson's voice was louder.

"Granger, sorry to interrupt, continue please."

She said clipped and rushed, still holding onto Malfoy's arm as she began making her way to the other exit, dragging him along. Her short bob swayed with her rushed walk and Hermione let her coat fall back onto her seat as she closed her mouth. Parkinson being polite? That was enough to mentally stupefy her. Before she could be totally rude, Hermione nodded once.

"No worries, goodnight Parkinson,"

She said softly, pausing before adding,

"Malfoy."

Hermione was taught to never be rude, despite childhood bullies showing up unexpectedly. Malfoy stopped in his tracks, forcing Parkinson to stop as well as she wasn't giving up on her grip on his arm. Finally, he stood straight, dressed in all black, Hermione almost snorted at his macabre style. He was tall, taller than everyone in the room, and once upon a time, she was sure he would use his structure to make everyone cower. His blond hair grazed his eyes, his hairstyle much like it had been in third year. His dark gray eyes stared at Hermione and she felt chilled.

"Hermione bloody Granger."

He said, slurring her last name. She stilled, clutching her hands into fists as she prepared for whatever he thought she needed to hear. Despite the warmth she was previously experiencing, she felt the air cool around her. She saw everyone around them still – they were also anticipating a verbal lashing of a sort.

"What are you drinking?"

He asked and walked towards her. Confusion swept through Hermione as she watched him, she saw Nott shake his head at an outreaching Parkinson. Hermione watched as Malfoy reached for the glass besides her, eyed it for a second, and gulped the remains of her Blishen's. Hermione couldn't help the frown that formed her face as he slunk down at the chair besides her own, a smirk gracing his lips. He looked at out of place to her; he was so long, so pale, so…

"Never took you for a Blishen's girl, Granger."

Malfoy smirked up at her and Hermione automatically responded,

"I'm not."

Malfoy laughed and Zabini said,

"I offered it, you prat."

Malfoy laughed again, closing his eyes as he nodded.

"Of course."

He whispered. Hermione forced herself to look away from him, opting to look up at Nott. He smiled weakly, letting out a sigh as he rubbed the back of his head. He reminded her of Harry when he did that, when he was getting caught in something he shouldn't have been doing. Hermione didn't look at Parkinson but back towards Zabini who was rolling his eyes at apparently, Malfoy.

"Again, sorry Granger. We tend to drink too much."

Parkinson said from behind her and all Hermione could do was nod. So not only was she inebriated but so were Zabini, Nott, and Malfoy. Apparently, Parkinson was the only one sober and she decided to bring the sloshed Malfoy to Nott – to his friends, Hermione thought to herself. Suddenly she felt sick to her stomach, being surrounded by close friends – not her friends – in a new setting was not sitting well with Hermione. She could be around Nott, she could be around with Zabini, but a polite Parkinson and a drunk Malfoy was too much.

"Excuse me."

Hermione quickly stumbled out before running her way towards the glass doors; she didn't know where the lavatory was and she didn't have time to ask, Hermione chose to be sick outside of Nott's ancestral home opposed to in front of the Slytherins. She barely made it a few steps out, hearing protests behind her, before throwing up all of what she drank and the salad she had for lunch. Hermione couldn't be gladder that she fixed her hair into a bun instead of letting it loose like usually.

"Shite."
Was all she whispered before spilling the contents of her stomach again.