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I'm sorry for the late updates - grad school & life are utterly tiring. But I'm still here! Please continue to review & read! I really enjoy reading you all's comments - even if it's short! Please continue doing so, thank you all [& hearts ;]

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Pansy scowled at the event before her. She was convinced she had rotten luck... Or great luck depending on who one asked. She had landed herself a hot topic for the Prophet. Pansy was currently covering a society wedding because the usual societal reporter – Paravti – was out traveling. While most journalists would be enthused landing a cover story, this was one wedding Pansy would rather have obliviated from her mind. She rolled her eyes at the giant, glittering banner over the couple's head. "Daphne Greengrass & Wayland Avery" sparkling above the blonde witch and her eyes matching. Pansy wanted to curse Daphne's smile off her lips. Or kiss. Pansy couldn't deny how lovely her ex-lover looked at her engagement party. Daphne was wearing an off the shoulder, floor length gown; the shoulder puffs were bigger than Pansy would have chosen, but the sheer fabric twinkled in the light. The colour of the dress was blush and it complimented her fair looks. Daphne wore her hair in loose curls, framing her face so it accentuated her high cheekbones and thin lips. The eventwas being held at one of the Greengrass' mansions near Brighton in a large, carpeted room that had well-lit candelabras scattered throughoutthe room since the weather wasn't as fair as one would want for aparty. Small, round tables were covered in a crème tablecloth and piles of food on gold platters, different optionsfor every table. Pansy rolled her eyes internally at theone table with sushi. Daphne hated cold fish. There weretwenty or so tables with five or four, matching chairs around them. The room was half full but Pansy didn't take note of that – for now. She was early anyhow to inspect the event for the piece she had to write. Pansy put extra thought intoher outfit for the day. Shealso worea floor length dress; the dress was mint coloured and styled very casually on the upper half as a tank top. Pansy chose shorter heels that day, nude d'orsay heels. As always, no hair out of place, and she wore very lightly coloured makeup. Two emerald studs as her earrings and a thin gold necklace around her neck; anyone who knew Pansy knew this wasn't her usual style. Pansy hoped Daphne would die at the sight of her. This had beenthe exact outfit she had picked for the Parkinson witch in their many whispered talks of their future together, a future that never came to fruition. Daphne always said Pansy looked beautiful in soft colors. Well eat your heart out, Greengrass, Pansy couldn't help but to think.

"Pansy."

She heard a hard voice state. Sighing internally, Pansy turned to Almera Greengrass, a fake smile quickly plastered on her red lips. In contrast, Almera was wearing bright green dress robes that showed off her bosom and the ugly "G" pendant she tended to favor. Pansy wanted to tell her how outdated those particular dress robes clashed horribly with Daphne's soft colors but refrained.

"Mrs. Greengrass."

Pansy said, in a tone sweeter than the Moscato wine the family was serving. Pansy leaned into the older witch, pecking her cheeks as fast as she properly could. The older Greengrass witch did the same.

"It came as a surprise to know that you would be writing about Daphne's upcoming nuptials, dear."

Almera said.

"One couldn't turn it down when offered andas you know, Daphne is an old friend."

Pansy quipped. Almera's eyes turned icy as did her smile.

"Of course."

She replied shortly before turning to look over at the guests continuing to arrive. Daphne and Avery were the picture of a happy couple. Pansy wanted to curse them.

"Oh there's Lady Malfoy, if you'll excuse me."

Almera said softly after Narcissa arrived – alone. Pansy hid her smirk at the roving eyes of Daphne's mother, disappointment clinging to her posture. She had wanted Draco to accompany his mother. She was let down. Pansy walked towards the kitchen, taking her time to approach the couple, before quickly deciding to have a section on the delicacies being served. The violet-eyed witch took mental notes about the finger foods, the lack of elfin wine, the faux fairy dust sprinkled on macaroons before she heard the door swing openbehind her. She assumed it was an elf or worker of the wedding. Next thing Pansy knew, she was being shoved against a wall, Daphne's lips on her own urgent. As much as Pansy wanted to indulge her, she forced herself to push the witch away. Pansy made a motion of wiping her lips, a sneer in place.

"What the fuck, Greengrass."

Pansy snarled. She ignored how her chest constricted at the hurt look Daphne gave her. A couple of seconds passed; Daphne panted as her brown eyes filled with tears. Pansy stopped sneering.

"I don't want to marry him, Pans."

She whispered. Before Pansy could comfort her – her oldest girlfriend and first love – Astoria's voice called for her elder sister. Pansy watched as Daphne transformed herself. She wiped her tears, fixed her lipstick, and her gown in less than five seconds. Her sister appeared in six.

"Mum's asking for you."

Astoria said, eyeing Pansy as soon as she walked in. Astoria was wearing a tea length, gray dress, also off the shoulders. But her dress made her look younger, while Daphne's was made to look moremature. Astoria's shoulders were wrapped against the sheer fabric, and it bounced like it had layers underneath. Her hair was also in waves. She looks like a fifty's muggle wife, Pansy thought.

"Of course! Thanks, Tori."

Daphne said brightly before walking away as if she hadn't just been snogging her ex-girlfriend. Pansy was numb. How could she be so daft to think Daphne was serious about leaving her fiancée?

"Are you okay?"

Astoria's soft voice infiltrated Pansy's mind. There was concern written in her pale face, but Pansy ignored it. The older witch scoffed at her before adjusting her own lipstick.

"Don't ask stupid questions, Tori."

Pansy sneered Daphne's nickname for her younger sister before walking away. She also ignored the hurt look of the younger Greengrass sister. She had a job to do, damned Greengrass for getting her off track.

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When Ginny showed up, unannounced, at the joke shop's back office, Ron instantaneously wanted to know why she was there. The cluttered, but modestly sized office held all kinds of odd trinkets and blueprints for next items of sale. Lee had helped George pack up Fred's items so he and Ron could share the space that once belonged to the other half of the Weasley twins. There were three large windows that overlooked Diagon Alley, protected with privacy charms warded off onlookers. Ron's blue eyes trailed after his sister, but he kept his curiosity inside. His only sister was usually too busy with training or games to pop up unexpectedly; her showing up out of the blue warranted questions. However, Ron closed his mouth the moment he saw the look on her face. The look on Ginny's face was a terrifying mixture of Percy and George. Percy's look of determination and George's look of devious planning.

"Where's George?"

She asked, helping herself to a drink by the small bar cartin the left corner of the room.

"He's out having lunch with Angelina."

Ron answered. Ginny hummed in acknowledgement and then added another splash of firewhiskey to her glass. Ron rose his eyebrows at her action, and she looked at him, expecting a reaction, but he didn't say anything. She drunk the dark liquid all in one giant take and slammed the cup down. Ron, wisely, didn't usher a word.

"Right. Care for a match?"

Ginny asked, tilting her head at the question.

"I can't leave the joke shop unattended, Ginny."

Ron said, disappointment clinging to his words.

"Oh right."

She replied. The fire in her eyes dimmed and that unsettled Ron. He felt the unease in his stomach. Ginny wasn't one to show how upset she was in front of her brothers. Not because they didn't care, but because she felt the need to prove that she was just as tough as they were. Something must have been really bugging his baby sister for her to show the small signs of hertroubled mood.

"Why don't you help me organize Fred's paperwork?"

Ron asked. Ginny looked at his brother confused.

"I thought Lee did that ages ago?"

She asked but moved towards him. Ron shook his head.

"He left his inventions behind. He didn't know how to sort them, I figured."

Ron said, chuckling softly. Ginny smiled gently at the thought.

"Yeah okay."

She said and sat down in Lee's chair, looking at the paperwork before them. Ron knew he wasn't the best with words, but he could at least try to help his little sister with his invitation. She would talk in her own time or at the very least, he could offer her a distraction.

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Hermione felt her eyes bulging from their sockets. She had to be dreaming.

"We got the sponsorship for the werewolf bill?"

She asked, her voice coming out quiet; she was in disbelief. Her boss nodded, beaming at her. The older witch's skin wrinkled from the big grin she gave Hermione. Magdalena Meroy was at least two decades older than Hermione. A half-blooded witch that only escaped Voldermort's persecution because her mother lived in South America, and she had the good sense of calling for her daughter home before the War's restrictions. Meroy had tan skin, lighter than her own or Blaise's skin tone, and soft curls that Hermione envied some days. She was shorter than Hermione, with wide hips and full lips, Hermione thought Meroy was a beauty. Similar to Hermione, Meroy rarely thought about her own vanity and gave everything to her work. Currently, her dark headed boss was wearing dark purple robes that were two sizes too big and comfortable but ugly-looking shoes. Hermione couldn't help but to look down at her own outfit in comparison. She wasn't too far off wearing jogger-styled trousers and a worn, maroon blouse. Ms. Meroy's words caught hold of her attention once more.

"We did indeed! Oh, Miss Granger now we can get started on the sanctuary and the passage to and fro."

Ms. Meroy's voice faded away as Hermione's eyes strayed to stare at the purple seal of Kingsley on her werewolf bill. It meant her bill was going to get funded which then meant it could get passed. All Hermione needed was the approval of the Wizengamot, andtheir main concern was the gold. And now she had it.

"Who? Do you know?"

Hermione interrupted her boss' rambling. She took a sip of her tea, smile still in place.

"Oh yes! Lady Malfoy herself, dear!"

Hermione almost dropped the teacup in her hands.

"Lady Malfoy? As in Narcissa Malfoy?"

Hermione asked, straining to keep the incredulousness out of her tone.

"Narcissa Malfoy Black, dear, but yes. Unless you know another Malfoy."

Meroy joked to herself as Hermione struggled to keep her composure. Hermione did in fact know another Malfoy; not another Lady Malfoy, but a particular Malfoywho was constantly in her thoughts, her dreams. Hermione let her boss ramble for a couple more minutes before smiling at her.

"Thank you, Ms. Meroy, I'll start the work right away. Excuse me."

Hermione said, not waiting for a response before she walked back to her office. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to jinx something. But most importantly, she wanted to demand of Draco Malfoy what he was doing. Because this had to be his doing. Right? Hermione couldn't help but to doubt herself. Luckily for Hermione, it was time for lunch, and she wasn't going to spend it in her office. Acting irrationally wasn't one of Hermione's strongest suits, but it came sporadically. Like when she followed Draco into an unknown floo. Or when she punched him in the nose. Maybe it was just him, Hermione thought. While she didn't have access to Draco's floo, she fortunately knew someone who did. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, Hermione didn't spare a second thought despite knowing she was being illogical. Apparating into Theo's foyer with no warning, Theo appeared within seconds with a slight air about him.

"Theo, I'm sorry to intrude but I need to use your floo."

Hermione quickly stated. Theo raised a dark eyebrow and smiled at her.

"Of course, anything for you, Hermione."

He said, his tone bright and chipper. They were soon on their way to his enormous floo room when Theo uncharacteristically tripped, and a blue potions bottle fell out of his robes. Theo hurried to retrieve it, but Hermione bent down immediately.

"What is this?"

Hermione asked, looking for an inscription on the bottle. There was none and the smooth bottle became even more suspicious. Theo shook his head in response.

"Just a headache potion."

Theo offered. His eyes kept straying towards the bottle and back to her, his hands flew to the back of his head. Theo was nervous, Hermione wanted to know why.
"Oh your heaven's sent, Theodore. I have one – "

She unstopped the blue container, putting the unknown potion close to her lips.

"Starting to form."

She finished but Theodore quickly yelled,

"Accio Forgo bottle!"

The bottle zipped from her hands and into his, causing Hermione to jerk slightly from the magic.
"Forgo?"

She asked, trying to keep the judgement from her tone. Theo gulped, topping the bottle, and nodding once.

"Bit extreme for a headache, no?"

She asked cautiously. Hermione wasn't dim; while she didn't partake in the use of the magical drug, she knew about it. It was quite the rage her eighth year, but Hermione couldn't blame her peers. They had just gotten out of a war; some needed more help than others. Theo pocketed the blue potion before looking back at Hermione.

"I use it recreationally."

He answered. Hermione would have bought it, but she noticed how unkempt Theo appeared before her. His usual curls lacked their shine while his skin seemed to glow from sweat. His robes were mismatched and untucked on one side. There were dark bags under his eyes as if he had gone a couple of days without sleep. Something was wrong.

"Theo, I don't mind that you dabble with the forgo recreationally."

Hermione said. Theo stared at her for a few seconds before he slumped with relief.

"But I do care that you seem out of sorts."

Hermione continued. Theo froze.

"Did you eat today?"

Hermione asked.

"Um…"

Theo couldn't form a sentence.

"Have you bathed recently?"

Hermione asked. Silence as Theo ran his fingers against his brown locks.

"How about you bathe, I'll make us a quick lunch, and we can catch up?"

Hermione asked. Hermione shot him a small smile hoping to win him over. She was wrong. Theo's dazed look changed to a cold one. His blue eyes frosting over like glacial plains.

"Why do you care? You ignore me on end when you feel out of sorts."

He retorted. Hermione forced herself not to gape at his accusation.

"That's not fair. We already sorted that out. You can't throw it back in myface when I'm trying to help."

Hermione said, slowly and controlled, in as calm a tone as she could muster. As much as she wanted to yell at him for being so casually cruel, she knew that wouldn't help their current situation. Theo wasn't sober and wasn't thinking rationally; Hermione couldn't argue with him despite his words hurting her. Theo rolled his eyes, scoffing.

"I didn't ask for your help, Granger."

He drawls. It's Hermione's turn to glare at him as she crosses her arms over her chest.

"I'm helping either way. Once the forgo is out of your system, you can apologize for your tone."

She said.

"Bloody hell, Granger. Just leave me in peace, isn't that easy for you?"

He snaps. Hermione wanted to snap at him for once again reminding her how she pushes people away, but she bit her tongue.

"It's either me or Pansy."

Hermione replies. His gaze hardens but he doesn't bulge.

"Or maybe Blaise. I might also give Mal- Draco a ring since you're so adamant about me not helping you."

Hermione continues. As she does, she can see Theo deflating. However, quicker than she thought possibly, a smirk crawls on his lips and he opens his arms.

"Call Draco then. I would love to hear that conversation."

Theo snidely said. Hermione was proud that she didn't shrink at his threat. He knows that she hadn't spoken to Draco since the disastrous evening at Pansy's flat. She knows he knows that. But he can't prove it.

"I will. That's actually why I was coming to see you, Theo. Draco asked me to meet him at his flat for lunch and you have access to his floo. It was quicker."

Hermione lies. Theo pales at her words and it's Hermione turn to smirk at him. Uncrossing her arm, she slips her hands into her pockets as casts a nonverbal immobilizing spell while Theo is distracted. The charm works and Hermione rushes towards him to catch him from falling.

"I'm sorry."

She apologizes softly to him before letting him down gently on the wooden floor beneath him. Pulling out her hand, she says,

"Expecto patronum."

The silver otter materializes, and she smiles softly at the creature. Instantly she feels better.

"Go find Blaise Zabini. Inform him that Theo needs help urgently and I'm waiting with him at his Manor."

The otter blinks and then sprints away. Hermione watches the whisps and immediately misses the warmth the happy spell produced. Hermione turns to look at her friend. He's still immobilized in the same state she shot him with – confused and annoyed. At least he wasn't glaring at her. The curly headed witch was about to cast a hovering charm before a giant, white Cane Corso came trotting in.

"I'm with my mother. I'll be there in an hour. Tell Theo to stop throwing a tantrum."

Blaise's voice comes from the dog before it disappears. Hermione groans out loud. She doesn't have an hour to wait. Biting her lip and peeping down to look at her frozen friend, she sighs out loud. Hermione started mentally cataloging her friends' locations. She knew Pansy was busy with Daphne Greengrass' engagement party – it was the talk of the office. Harry was at Hogwarts getting set up for the upcoming school year. She didn't have any options left.

"Expecto patronum."

She said louder than the first time and not as quickly. She had to concentrate harder this time due to her complicated feelings about what she was about to do. The otter tilted his head as if asking why he's being summoned once more.

"I know. Go find Draco Malfoy and tell him to come to Theo's quick. It's an emergency."

She instructed. The otter swam through the air and Hermione held her breath. If she can't get a hold of Draco, then she's really stuck waiting out for Blaise. Not to mention finding a better solution than immobilizing Theo for longer. Less than two minutes pass and Draco and Minty, Theo's house elf, apparate in front of them. Minty's wearing a lavender set while Draco is dressed in gray. The lack of color makes him look paler and his eyes darker. He's dressed in trousers and a thin turtleneck.

"Granger, what happened?"

Draco asks. He sees Theo on the floor and moves towards him.

"Why is your mother sponsoring my werewolf bill?"

She all but yells ignoring every alternative and sensible answer forming in her mind.