Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter & co. - just write what could have been. Please review! Reviews are always nice; I'd like to hear your thoughts on this fic :)

Chapter Twelve

Blaise strolled out of Gringotts, pulling on his Hydrus skin gloves over his hands. He had recently – and by recently, he stopped when Hermione Granger used his first name – stopped purchasing clothing material made of magical creatures. He did not want to get into an argument with his newfound friend. Blaise wasn't the type to easily lose an argument, but he didn't want to have this specific argument with a specific magical creatures' activist and Ministry of Magic worker. It wasn't worth arguing anyways, in Blaise's opinion, he had already had enough animal skinned clothes anyways. Blaise was coming out of his monthly meeting with Odbert – the head goblin in charge of his account – and the discussion about his monetary funds and business ventures had ended late. Blaise discussed with small but wily goblin his business plans for the opening of Divertimento in London; the money, Odbert managed and consulted Blaise about. While Blaise handled the right connects in hopes of opening the club-bar within four months. Blaise wanted the opening to happen sooner rather than later; he was angsty to get his hands busy and he knew Draco needed it as well. When he first discussed the idea amongst Draco, he was surprised to see that his friend wanted to assist. Then Theo had mentioned that Draco was falling into a deep depression, one he kept quietly hidden, so offering to help Blaise was something to keep Draco preoccupied. Busy and not drunk most of the time in France, according to Theo, was exactly what Draco needed. Blaise agreed and now they were planning on opening the bar-clubs together. The Italian wizard tugged the soft colored gloves on once more before making his way to the apparition point. The cobblestone crunched underneath his oxfords. Since it was later in the evening and he'd already heckled Theo enough for the day, Blaise decided to have dinner with another close friend. He decided to see what Pansy was doing for dinner as he hadn't seen her since the morning of fun with Granger. He would have gone to bother Draco but he wanted good news before approaching his friend. The Italian wizard concentrated on one of his only female friend's flat in his mind as he apparated from Diagon Alley to Pany's flat. He begged her to let him in her wards when she first moved in, Theo and Draco finding his pleas amusing, and no doubt Pansy as well. She finally relented after months of pleading and he promised he'd take her to any dinner, any time. I would have to do the same with Hermione, he thought to himself, smirking slightly at the thought as his body travelled unpleasantly via apparation. Popping into her living room, Blaise adjusted himself and glanced around the empty room. The spacious living area was definitely smaller than anything he, Theo, and Draco currently owned, but he was still proud that Pansy called it her own. While the flat itself had been a graduation gift from her parents, Pansy handled the bills and upkeep – more than Blaise could say about his own living situation. He left everything to his personal house elf regarding his own bachelor pad and his mother handled everything regarding Il Zabini Palazzo. Pansy had always leaned toward the Spanish décor more than any other architecture; her living room floor was a soft teal, ceramic tiles covered the floor with a dark rug on top; there were two dark green loveseats right beside the tile fireplace. There was a medium-sized colored glass in the middle of the room. There was also a large, rounded window that had the curtain drawn but Blaise appreciated the light whenever it came in. It was warm and lively – everything that Pansy claimed she missed in her childhood.

"Pans, I'm starving! Have you eaten?"

Blaise asked out loud. There was a wall separating the living room and the kitchen and dining room area, but there was a large, dark purple kitchen-pass through where one could oversee the dining room from the living room and vice versa. The door led directly to the kitchen and the pass through was something Pansy added before moving in. The kitchen and dining room had different patterned ceramic tiles, Pansy chose a multi-colored tile, and it was brighter than even Theo's own sunlit kitchen. Pansy appeared from his left, dressed in high waisted, black trousers and a bright red, twill dress shirt. The collar made a bow and not a hair out of place, Pansy was only missing her signature heels, wearing soft looking house shoes. Blaise could count the number of times he had seen the Parkinson witch not wearing heels. She said she had to wear them because they looked better with her wardrobe, which Blaise didn't disagree, and because everyone around her was taller. By everyone, she had meant the trio of Slytherin males and a certain blonde witch. However, Blaise thought that even in nightclothes, she looked like she had stepped out of a modeling magazine instead of actually stepping out of bed. He didn't dare ask how she did it, knowing she wouldn't answer. Having known Pansy since a young age, he knew she valued appearances as most Purebloods did.

"I'm changing the wards."

She said, dead panned. Blaise smirked as he walked towards her, kissing the top of her head as she shoved him away. Blaise was more affectionate than most wizards – he thought specifically of Draco and Theo – but he didn't waste an opportunity to rile up Pansy. She was the only witch that hadn't fallen to his charm and Blaise loved a challenge; despite knowing she wouldn't and he'd rather take a stinging hex to the face then to see Pansy as more than a friend. He still liked seeing her scowls when he was close. Blaise chuckled before asking,

"Where are we eating?"

She rolled her eyes at him as she turned back to head to her room, her slightly bitter perfume trailing behind her. Blaise wasted no time in following her, admiring the soft tone she had chosen for the hallway colors – a coral color. There were only two frames hanging in the hallway; one was a painting of a lake that Pansy had admired from a muggle shop placed on his right which lead to the guest bedroom. The other portrait was of her three younger brothers and led to her bedroom. Valerian sat in the middle of his two standing, older brothers – Ren and Boldwyn. All three boys were dressed in dark dress robes and stood serious for a moment before laughing and pushing each other around. All three Parkinson males had inherited their mother's fairer looks, light honey eyes and dark brown hair unlike Pansy. While Pansy wasn't close with her parents, she loved her younger brothers dearly. The only thing in her flat that showed she had any family was her brothers' portrait.

"I thought you had your fill with Granger and company."

She said. Blaise smirked as she sat down at her vanity, already putting on her dark purple heels. Pansy's room was messier than what she presented outside. She had random clothes lingering around and her white, canopy bed was unmade. There were two doors on the opposite ends of each other – one lead to her walk-in closet and the other lead to her personal bathroom. Besides the vanity, there was only a small beside table, and lots of papers scattered around, some with photos attached. Her vanity had an assortment of makeup products scattered on it with hair and make-up products and a styling wand. Honestly, it was a wonder to Blaise how she even found anything, but he didn't comment. It had taken him nearly a year for Pansy to let him into her room, he wasn't going to be kicked out of it so soon. The only one previously was Draco and that's because they had grown up glued at the hip with Theo.

"Aw you know you're my number one girl, Pans."

Blaise blew her a kiss which she responded with another eyeroll.

"The daily prophet team is ready to go to have your picture printed with her for tomorrow's paper."

She responded, turning to adjust whatever she thought she had to adjust in her mirror. Blaise leaned against her doorway, crossing his arms, and his smirk falling slightly.

"What's the headline? 'Gray wizard and strikingly handsome Blaise Zabini seen with War Heroine Hermione Granger heading for a lunch date'?"

Blaise said. Pansy scoffed before standing up, grabbing her lavender peacoat off the back of her chair. Now with her heels on and her coat covering her upper frame, she embodied the Slytherin Ice Princess he had known.

"You wish. It's more likely, 'War Heroine, Harry Potter's best friend, and Ronald Weasley's ex-girlfriend Hermione Granger seen coddled by ambiguous and ambitious Blaise Zabini'."

She said, a smirk of her own appearing on her red lips. Blaise scowled at her and she couldn't help the smirk that grew wider. As much as Blaise loved teasing Pansy, she could dish it back. Blaise didn't like that the papers focused on Hermione when she didn't want the attention. Nor the fact that they would differentiate the different stances both parties took in the war. Blaise chose to be neutral; he wasn't going to be on a losing side of a dangerous egomaniac. But he also wasn't going to stick out his neck for Albus Dumbledore – at least that's what his mother advised him to do and what he saw when the Golden Trio had their public opinion destroyed by the Dark Lord's propaganda.

"You can take me to dinner."

Pany said, interrupting his train of thought. She walked past him as she walked back towards her living room. Blaise perked up at that and he turned to follow her again.
"Excellent. I was thinking a bit of fish and chips never hurt anyone."

[-]

Hermione woke up in sweaty daze, kicking off her bed cover off of her, and waking a snuggled Crookshanks as well. He meowed loudly at the motion of being disturbed and Hermione offered a weak apology before getting out of bed. She enjoyed the coolness the wood beneath her provided but it wasn't enough. She dragged her feet to her bathroom, sighing softly at the contact of the floor underneath her. Finally in the bathroom, in the dark, she let the water run. She took some water and gently cleansed the accumulated sweat before turning the knob to stop the water running. Sighing again, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, bed hair that looked like a raven's nest and still dressed in the same attire she fell asleep in. She took off her cardigan and began peeling off her jeans and camisole, appreciating the crisp air hitting her before she changed into her pajamas. Once in the shorts and oversized tee shirt, she walked back to her bathroom to pull her hair into a ponytail. This time she did turn on the lights; while the ponytail was less than presentable, it would have to do for now. Hermione was still groggy with sleep and upset she had woken up. She could deal with her hair tomorrow morning but not now. Satisfied with the messy updo, she turned off the bathroom lights, walked to her living room, and turned on the lights with the switch besides her bedroom door. Hermione didn't know what time it was but judging by the lack of light trying to break through her curtains, she assumed it was still dark out. Sighing once more, she made her way to her kitchen sink to pour herself a glass of water – she was parched. Even though her stomach was rumbling, she ignored it as she opened the left cabinet door and grasped a glass. She turned the faucet and let the water fill the cup before turning off the faucet. She drank the entire glass. That would have to appease her empty stomach for now, Hermione knew she didn't have any food she could eat from her fridge. Her yogurt had gone bad and she had eaten her fruits earlier that day. Concentrating, she casted a nonverbal tempus charm and she groaned out loud at the time before her. Fuck, it's 3AM. She grouchily thought to herself. Placing her glass on the counter, she made her way back to the living room. She walked to her sectional before plopping down. She laid out on the couch, appreciating the fresh texture on her skin opposed to the too warm covers she had to wrestle out of. Inhaling deeply, her eyes landed on the unsent Yale application. It was still turned over as she left it before. Hermione sighed again, closing her eyes briefly. She still needed to turn it in but hadn't done so; she hadn't made her decision about applying for the American muggle university, but she didn't have much time to mull her decision over. The deadline was approaching at the end of the month. Opening her eyes, Hermione looked back at the pages before her. Before Hermione could reach for the application, there was a soft knock on her door. Eyes widen and heartbeat escalating, she said,

"Accio wand."

Her wand zoomed to her right hand speedily as she made her way to the door. She might have heard something else – surely no one was actually at my door at 3 in the morning, she thought – before she stopped at her front door. Hermione leaned up and looked through her peephole. Surely I am hallucinating, she thought once more as she caught a glimpse of the lightest blond hair she had seen before. She gripped her wand tightly before unlocking her door and opening it. Sure enough, there was Draco Malfoy leaning against the wall before her. His different than before, she noted. His posture was less rigid and his cheeks were pinker. Earlier in the day, he was stiff as a board and while his face showed the cold outside, his face was definitely a shade darker. She couldn't help to think the color suited him. The past times she had seem, he always wore dark clothing, and seemed so gloomy – a little color suited his fair colorings. He looked like Hades himself to Hermione and she stifled the giggle that threatened to spill at the absurd comparison. There was a lazy smirk on his lips as his eyes roved over her. Hermione forced herself to not move underneath his gaze, but she couldn't help to bite the inside of her cheek when his eyes landed on hers, completely opposite of what she had seen earlier. While he appeared more at ease, his eyes stared into her as she was the only thing worth focusing on.

"Adore the nightclothes, Granger."

He drawled. She couldn't help but to blush, cursing herself that she had just changed into less appropriate clothes when he suddenly appeared. She automatically folded her arms over her chest before responding.

"Why are you here at three in the morning?"

She asked. Malfoy stood straight at that but Hermione watched as he swayed slightly. He thought better against standing on his own when he placed his left hand back on the wall to steady himself. Hermione watched his movements while his gaze fell and he closed his eyes briefly before opening up and staring at her again. Gray met brown.

"I needed to apologize."

He said, slurring his words as she remembered nights before. Hermione had preferred him then, but she recalled how intensely his gray eyes watched her. She didn't get to ask why then and she knew she wasn't going to ask now either. Her brows furrow, tilting her head slightly.

"Apologize? At three in the morning?"

She asked incredulously. Disregarding how she preferred a drunk Malfoy over a stern Malfoy and definitely Hogwarts Malfoy, Hermione questioned him. There surely a better time to do such things, she thought to herself. He nodded.

"I'm sorry for acting like a prat earlier, I was nervous."

He said – the confession leaving his lips softer than before. This confused Hermione even more, straightening at his words.

"Nervous about what?"
She asked.

"You."

He simply answered. Before Hermione could further probe into what he meant, Malfoy leaned dangerously into her but caught himself with his free hand bracing on her doorframe. He groaned softly and Hermione reached towards him, placing her hands, and wand, against his chest.

"Malfoy, what's the matter?"

She asked. Uncharacteristically close to him, he loomed over her, and she caught a whiff of his cologne. It's tangy and sharp, she couldn't help but to notice. She had only been so close to a handful of wizards before. The Weasley Twins always smelted of smoke and grass; McLaggen reeked of some aftershave she thought it would choke her; Viktor's scent was a mixture of a woodsy smell and the fresh air; Harry's specific scent was musky and oddly, lemon; and Ron's smell was a combination of grass, sweat, and his cologne that had mint.

"I just needed to apologize. I can go now."

He said but even with those words, he slumped against her. His forehead leaned on her shoulder, close to the crook of her neck, and Hermione resisted the urge of shivering when she felt the ghost of his breath on her. She was supporting him more than he was now supporting himself and he was heavy. Hermione also caught the scent of firewhiskey and she twisted her nose at the smell of it, her stomach churning unpleasantly at the reminder of the liquor she threw up days prior.

"For Godric's sake, you're drunk."

She said. He chuckled once, his body moving at the sound leaving his lips, and said against her shoulder,

"10 points to Gryffindor."

Hermione couldn't help to think that she had never heard Malfoy laugh so carelessly. All she remembered was a mean smirk and cruel laughter, nothing like this. Hermione rolled her eyes to focus on the laugh instead of the chills her body produced when he spoke against her. She huffed out loud as he no longer was able to support himself, she twisted herself to wrap her left arm around him and he made a noise of displeasure. Huffing all the way to her living room sectional, she finally let him go as he landed on the seat ungainly. She made her way back to her front door to shut it and lock up before she made her way back to a drunk Malfoy. However, before she could ask him further questions or scold him, he was fast asleep. She watched how entirely different he appeared before from this afternoon, from Hogwarts. The rise and fall of his chest was the only indication that he was alive as his tense posture disappeared to reveal a certain softness about the fair wizard. He looks better this way, without the frozen personality, Hermione couldn't help but to think. She tried to mentally shake that thought from her mind, but she didn't disagree with internal thoughts either. She decided to chuck that thought about Malfoy to the lack of sustenance and the ungodly hour. Hermione sighed once more.

"What the fuck."

She whispered to herself before closing her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose with her free hand. It seemed like the day hadn't been done with her until now.