A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Huge thank you to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter! You can find me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
Please let me know what you thought of chapter eighteen and be on the lookout for chapter nineteen soon!
It was Hermione's turn to get fawned over by her roommates, now that she had been asked to go on a Hogsmeade date. All of the sixth year Slytherin girls crowded around the large vanity mirror in their shared room, each taking a turn to help Hermione get ready. Mallory did her make up, giving her a far sexier look than she was used to seeing in her reflection. Cilla worked her magic on her hair, seeing as she was the only one with a similar hair texture. When she was finished, Hermione had tousled bedroom hair that was better than anything Walburga could have ever concocted.
Elvira and Nella dug around through her trunk and wardrobe, looking for the perfect outfit, bringing this and that to hold in front of her body, only to decide that it didn't work. In the end, it was decided that everything Hermione had at school was not date worthy.
"Why is everything so old fashioned and buttoned up?" Elvira asked, her tiny nose scrunched in distaste.
"Mother is the one who picked out most of my clothes," Hermione revealed, though she didn't really think that Elvira was correct. Everything Walburga had gotten her was flattering and suited her relatively well. Who cared if it didn't show off loads of leg? "I didn't mind too much, since most of the time at school we are in uniform."
"We are going to have to make alterations," the blonde witch announced, tutting slightly at the response. "Show Ansel that he made the right choice in asking you."
Hermione didn't really like the idea that Ansel was the catch and she was lucky to have him, but she didn't really trust her own fashion sense in this time period and let Elvira pick a dress that worked best. When she was done with her Transfigurations, Hermione was left with a pretty pink dress with a white peter pan collar, far shorter than anything she'd wear even in her own time.
It did not take the rest of her friends much longer to get ready themselves and then they were all descending the stairs together like a flock of pretty birds, giggling when they found most of the sixth and seventh year boys waiting for them. Well, not for them specifically, but it felt nice to imagine that they were.
Regulus, Rabastan and Angus were all chatting together, closest to the stairs up to the girls' dorms, so they were the first to notice them. Nella pushed Hermione forward, until she was practically standing in their little cluster. "Well, what do you think?" Nella asked, waving her hand in front of Hermione. "She's as pretty as a picture, isn't she?"
When Regulus looked at her, his eyes softened. "You do look lovely, Hermione," he complimented. "Though I would hate to see Mother's reaction to that skirt. That is not something she would have sent you to school with."
Elvira laughed coyly. "Don't ask us to reveal our secrets, Regulus," she chided him playfully.
"She's gorgeous," Priscilla cooed, grabbing Hermione's hand so that she could spin around. "Ansel won't even know what hit him."
"Can't believe you'd go to all that trouble for Ansel in the first place," Rabastan said, almost sounding a touch... bitter? Hermione knew that he probably had a low opinion of her now — or at least a low opinion of her taste in wizards? — but she couldn't remember a time when he had been so outwardly hostile to her. Or was it to Ansel?
Mallory gave him a little glare on her behalf. "Don't be a jealous fool just because you didn't ask her to Hogsmeade, Rab," she said.
Hermione wanted to laugh at that. As if Rabastan would be interested in asking her to Hogsmeade! Salazar, even now he could barely stand to look at her! But, before she could think over it too much longer, Ansel was approaching them.
"Wow, Hermione — wow," he said, suddenly forgetting that he could manage to talk to her. He was clamming back up again, just like he had at the beginning of term. "You look — I wasn't — I —"
Rabastan was snorting in amusement and suddenly, Hermione wanted to be far far away from him. She tucked her arm into Ansel's, pulling him towards the exit with a half-hearted wave at her brother and her friends. "Let's get going," she said. "If we hurry, we can probably still catch one of the carriages."
They were able to find a carriage, but unfortunately were forced to share it with a trio of Ravenclaw fourth years who couldn't stop staring and whispering at her, making Hermione feel rather out of place. Or, as out of place as she could as a time traveler who liked to think that she was pretty well integrated. She tried to chit chat with Ansel along the way, but he was still too tongue tied to properly talk, especially with the young audience.
By the time that they got to the little wizarding village, Hermione was beginning to regret agreeing to go on this date. "So, where to, first?" she asked Ansel, expecting him to have a game plan prepared, seeing as he was the one who'd asked her on the date.
"I figured we could go to the Three Broomsticks for lunch, but we are probably here too early for lunch," he said, unsure of himself. "Say, do you mind stopping at Quality Quidditch Supplies? I need to grab a few things."
Hermione fought a grimace. She would really rather not spend her date trailing after Ansel in a Quidditch store, but she was trying to make the best of it. It should just be a quick one, anyway. "Of course," she answered, hoping the smile she put on her face didn't look too fake. "Lead the way."
Ansel wandered around the Quidditch store, making his way down each and every aisle. He was certainly talkative enough, explaining all the different products to her and which brands he thought were best and which he'd tried and which just weren't worth the money. By the time that they left, they'd managed to grab the best broom polish on the market and a new pair of leather gloves.
Seeing as it was still not quite time for lunch, Hermione asked if he wouldn't mind stopping into Tomes and Scrolls — it only seemed fair to indulge her as well. Ansel agreed readily enough, but he parked himself in the magazine section, paging through a glossy Quidditch quarterly, rather than following her around the store, like she'd done. She felt bad to admit it, but she was a little bit glad for a bit of space, to find what she wanted. And, when she finally made her way to the till, Ansel insisted on purchasing the new book she'd grabbed — a slim volume on using Arithmancy in calculating the probability of event outcomes — despite her protests. Orion already sent her an obscene amount of galleons as a 'little allowance' each month and she was more than able to cover it herself.
By the time they were done in the bookshop, they both figured they had put off lunch long enough and headed to the Three Broomsticks. Hermione found a table, while Ansel got them drinks and put in an order for two of the daily specials, which turned out to be cottage pie. Rosmerta — young and even prettier than Hermione remembered — brought their food to the table not long after.
She wasn't entirely sure how they'd gotten onto the topic, but Ansel spent most of their lunch talking about how he was intending to go to the Quidditch World Cup. "It's going to be in Italy and the Italians have a real chance to win it this year," he said, between bites of mash and mince. "But I'd really like England to win it all. We could do it."
Hermione found it difficult to care. "So you're going to Italy with your family?" she asked, politely.
"Yeah, my dad and my four older brothers," he explained. "Otto, Alain, Archer, and Ernst."
"Wow, that's a lot of brothers," she said, feeling somewhat intimidated.
"You say that like you don't have a lot of family members of your own," he teased, grinning at her. "Anyways, it will be a nice time. We don't all get together too often now that most of them have families of their own." She thought about Adrian Pucey and how he surely was just a little baby now. She hadn't known him well at school, but she remembered that he'd played for the Slytherin Quidditch team as well. And that he'd been an unusually clean player on Marcus Flint's squad.
"Well, that will be nice," Hermione said after a beat. "I wonder if anyone else from our house will try to attend. A lot of you play Quidditch. Regulus obviously won't, not when we have so many family weddings this summer. But, maybe Rabastan will?"
Ansel shrugged his shoulders. "You'd have to ask him yourself, Hermione," he answered. "He hasn't mentioned it to me."
"Maybe he is busy with family, too. After all, it's his brother that's marrying my cousin Bellatrix," she babbled on. "Rodolphus. I just met him over the holidays and I have to say... well, I was surprised at how different he is from Rabastan, you know?"
"Er, not really," Ansel said with a sigh. "I haven't seen him in forever. He was a seventh year student when we started at Hogwarts and even then he didn't want much to do with Rabastan."
"He's so much bigger than Rabastan," Hermione continued on. "And blond. I was not expecting that. Rabastan is a little more... proportional. And he takes after his father more. Though, I wonder where he got his eye color from. Maybe his mum."
"Um, I suppose. Blood is a funny thing. Traits can pop up where you least expect it," Ansel said, though he was looking at her warily.
Salazar, here she was babbling away about Rabastan Lestrange and she couldn't stop herself. Why was she talking so much about him in the first place? She wished she could go back to talking about Quidditch for the first time in her life. Oh, Quidditch! Yes, she could do that. "So, where will you stay in Italy?" she asked, hoping to get Ansel to fill the space with more excited World Cup chatter.
She listened while he explained all the cities they'd be going to for the different games and she was sure she'd avoided embarrassing herself any further. She was barely listening to a word that was coming out of Ansel's mouth when she noticed a shadow over their table. Looking up, she was surprised to see James Potter and Peter Pettigrew standing there. Before she remembered that Harry wasn't even born yet, she was tempted to smile at the Gryffindor wizard. But, once he opened his mouth, he shattered any illusion that might have remained.
"Look at this. A little date, Peter," James said, smirking at the smaller, rounder wizard at his right hand. It was a cruel and lazy sort of smirk, one that had Hermione's stomach churning with nerves. "I must say, I'm surprised at you, Pucey. I thought your family was bordering on decent, but here you are with a Black. Guess you've decided to throw your lot in with dark wizards."
"Can't expect much more from a Slytherin," Peter said, eagerly, trying to get a jibe in, too.
James tilted his head to the side. "Only, I've heard about you, Granger. You aren't even a real Black," he said, drawing his eyebrows together, trying to suss something out about her.
She felt her stomach sink even further and she wondered if Sirius must have said something to them. She hadn't gotten a blood oath from him until after she'd revealed her Squib origins. Had she made a terrible mistake to trust him? Had he immediately gone to James and blabbed to him about what she'd told him? After all, he always said James was more his brother than Regulus was.
"Don't believe the rumors, James," a third voice cut in. Hermione was surprised to see that it was Sirius. "I am sure there is nothing exciting about her or else my family wouldn't have accepted her."
"But, you've heard what they are saying —" Peter tried to pile on, only to be cut off by a glare from Sirius.
"Pete, who do you trust more? Some random Hufflepuff or me?" Sirius argued, giving her a look that was almost apologetic. "Even though I wish it wasn't the truth, I am still a member of the Black family. Now, come on, surely we can find better things to do than talk to her."
He was shuffling them away from her and Ansel and Hermione felt her heart clench tightly in her chest. In his own way, she knew that Sirius was trying to protect her — to stand up for her. And against his own friends at that. She knew that they had left things on poor terms, but maybe things with Sirius were not so hopeless after all.
She looked up at Ansel, who was staring back at her intently. Maybe he was looking for any hint of the validity of the rumors, but she was sure she wasn't going to give anything away. Not to him, anyway. "Sorry, that's really put a damper on my appetite," she said, though she wasn't entirely sorry either. It wasn't as if the date had been going well before Sirius decided to show off his more fraternal tendencies. "Do you mind if we call it an early afternoon?
Ansel was not too broken up to have the date come to such a quick end. He didn't even offer to walk her back up to the castle, preferring instead to join the rest of the Slytherin boys at the Hog's Head. And, Hermione was glad for the time alone to organize her thoughts.