Duet 02 -- elektra30 and worksofstone
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. All fics posted at this community were written entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Title: The Reluctant Matchmaking Services Of Harry, Ron, Pansy and Blaise
Author: elektra30
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8,000
Summary: Hermione’s obsessed with work. Draco’s obsessed with a new love interest. When Harry, Ron, Pansy and Blaise come together to discuss their woes, they inadvertently stir up some latent feelings in those two...
Warnings: Mild Profanity
Author's Note(s): Also includes hints of Harry/Ginny and Ron/Pansy. Special thanks to ningloreth for the beta help! (:
To my mystery duet partner, you had such interesting prompts to work with! But they were also quite challenging because I’m not great on humour-so I apologise in advance for lame jokes and dramatic scenes! Still, I hope you like it; I tried to incorporate many of your ‘kinks’-including ‘feisty women’ haha-so, this one’s for you! (:
1 year ago...
“This is purely professional,” she said.
“Yes, of course.”
She swallowed hard. If anything went terribly wrong, she was hoping to blame it all on her boss. But really, whatever had possessed her to say ‘yes’ to this case? She, of all people, wanted the Malfoys to pay dearly for everything that they had done, most importantly for abetting torture in those bloody grounds of theirs...
“Granger?” he said, quietly. “You’re shaking.”
She gave herself a mental slap. “I’m fine. Why have you decided to take up this case now?”
There was a pregnant silence.
She rapped her fingers on the table. “I don’t have time for this, Malfoy, you better respond qui-”
“It’s been many years.”
A familiar rage was bubbling within her, but she took a deep breath to suppress it.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Her fingers froze in mid-air.
He gave her a bitter smirk. “But it’s too late, isn’t it?”
She didn’t answer him.
-.-.-.-.-.-
Present Day.
Knock, knock.
"Come in!"
Hermione popped her head round the door, only to see her two best friends and Pansy Parkinson engaging-or rather, they had been engaging-in a rather deep discussion. "Oh wow, am I intruding?” she asked.
"From Hogwarts’ best student, that seems like a rather stupid question," said Pansy, smoothly. She swivelled around in the armchair and stared expectantly at Hermione for a witty comeback.
Hermione came right into the room and gave Pansy nothing back, merely eyeing Harry sceptically, as if warning him, That's your secretary blathering away, you best back me up!
Harry cleared his throat. "I'm sure we can spare five minutes."
There was a pause.
Hermione cleared her throat.
Ron gave Pansy a hard nudge, and the girl glared at him. "I'm taking notes!"
"It's okay, Pans, no need for note taking now," said Harry.
Pansy shut her notebook in a huff. "Well, spill it, Miss Granger, Harry's got another meeting in fifteen minutes' time!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I was wondering if you could spare me the records for 1976. I'm doing an inquest into a battered pixie case, and it seems that a pattern is emerging."
"Oh..." Pansy clicked her tongue exasperatedly. "Honestly, Granger, that could have taken a phone call!"
"I also came to personally invite everyone to dinner, with the exception of you, of course," said Hermione, annoyed.
"Sure ," said Harry, immediately, with a bright smile. "I'll get the file for you, Hermione, but if you don't mind, I'll finish this meeting with Ron and Pans and give it to you just before we go off for dinner."
"Aw, can't I come?" Pansy whined. "Draco ditched me for dinner."
Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Malfoy's attempts to recreate his aristocratic gentlemanly image are failing rather spectacularly."
Pansy made a face. "Don't let him catch you saying that. You know how sensitive he is."
"Egomaniac," retorted Hermione, and she slammed the door shut.
"Don't come," begged Ron. "I'd like to see fireworks as part of a celebration, not because of a catfight!"
"I'm not the one acting immature! It’s no wonder that woman has been single for so long.” She looked at Ron and nodded. “Wise choice getting rid of her.”
Ron scowled. “We just weren’t suited to each other.”
“I see that.”
Harry shot Ron a sympathetic look. “It’s not like Hermione has been actively searching after that. So... it just means she’s not ready to settle down with anyone too.”
“Oh come on, all that cattiness? I’m sure it’s borne out of sexual repression,” said Pansy, airily.
Harry and Ron exchanged incredulous looks.
“Her workplace is male-dominated,” Pansy explained. “Please don’t tell me none of them has ever caught her fancy. I’m pretty sure the bleached blond boy in the cubicle on her left drops his pens on her side of the table so she can pick them up for him, and the reason why there’s a permanent coffee stain on the shirt of that hot muscular young man opposite her desk is because he can’t help drooling every time he sets his eyes on her. They’re good-looking, young and talented, and she doesn’t even care?”
“Maybe they really aren’t her type,” said Harry, defensively.
“I’d say-with the way she’s been looking lately-I reckon she’s actually taken a fancy to someone,” said Pansy.
“You don’t say!” gasped Ron. “We’re her best mates, we would know if something was up!”
“Ah, but I’m a woman, and I have my womanly instincts.”
Harry and Ron looked baffled.
-.-.-.-.-.-
To while away the time, Hermione sat herself in Pansy's seat outside Harry's office and began to observe the various items on the desk before her. She hadn't the faintest idea why Harry had allowed Pansy to be interviewed for the position in the first place, but she had to concede that with the shrewd way Pansy handled things, there couldn't possibly be a better person to shut off unwanted calls and visits, intercept prank or hate mail...
Hermione caught sight of a framed photograph at the corner of Pansy's desk-Pansy was putting her arms around Draco Malfoy's neck and both of them were smiling. It made Hermione uneasy to see Dra-Malfoy smile; that expression didn't appear that often. A little bitterness swelled up within her as she took in all the details of the photograph.
She had never really figured out if Pansy and Malfoy were really dating, or whether they were just friends with benefits, or something along those lines. There had been many an occasion when Harry and Ron had popped by Pansy's house, only to find Malfoy lounging on the sofa with only his boxers on, or sound asleep in her bedroom. When questioned, Pansy's replies were always cryptic, ranging from 'he's just a parasite' to 'I love him far too much, what can I do?'.
It wasn’t like Hermione really cared. No. Why should she care?
TRRIINGGGG!
Hermione was startled for a second, before her trained hand shot out to grab the phone. "Hello?"
"How many times must I tell you, Puggy Parks,” said a familiar voice, “you get me direct to Harry with a damned button?! I don't need to listen to your stupid voice every single time I-"
Hermione stifled a giggle. "Puggy Parks is currently in a meeting. I'm sorry, but I don't think she ordered ginger tea."
There was a pause. "Oh, Hermione, please tell me you've sued the hell out of Parkinson, landed her into the pit of bankruptcy and had her shipped away into exile."
"I wish I could find a valid reason to."
"I'll get into that abode of hers one day and find the evidence, mark my words."
Hermione laughed. "I'm having dinner with Harry and Ron later, would you like to join us?"
"Oh, barmy rats, you've beaten me to the chase!" Ginny sighed. "No, I think I'll leave you three to talk; it's been a long while since you've emerged from the depths of work and found them, I should think! I'll probably go out for a spot of shopping. Harry needs a new tie after Puggy Parks tore it out of his drawer thinking that it was waste paper."
"She did not."
"Believe me, the only reservation that I do not have with Puggy Parks is that she will steal my boyfriend from me. Other than that, I have every right to be highly suspicious of her."
"What, just because she's dating Malfoy?" Hermione tried to sound casual.
“Is she really?” Ginny’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“I don’t know. It seems pretty obvious to me.”
“Good for him then.”
“Excuse me?” Hermione nearly choked. “What’s so good about it for him?”
“Well, it’s not like he’s got a lot of options, does he? Ever since the War, everybody’s been giving him shifty eyes, and no other girl in their right mind-other than Puggy Parks-would ask him out. It’s quite sad, really, so if they’re truly dating and he’s not using her as some cover, then that’s pretty good, isn’t it?”
Hermione was slightly taken aback by Ginny’s rather frank assessment of Malfoy’s situation. “Wow.”
“You should be more concerned about yourself, Hermione! It’s been two sodding years and you are not the least turned on by the amount of testosterone in your office?”
“You’re kidding, Gin. I could not fall in love with any one of those blokes confined in those four stuffy walls.” Hermione had to lower her head slightly as she noticed that some of Harry’s employees were beginning to look up from their work.
“Ah, you admit they’re stuffy. Time to take a walk outside and explore the young ‘uns out there.”
“I need someone who matches me on an intellectual level. Which, truth to be told, none of them really do. But not on a social level, thank you very much, I think I’m painfully inadequate in that area and I don’t need my significant other to share that inadequacy.”
“Well, in your year, that just leaves Harry-who’s mine-and Malfoy.”
Hermione disguised her choke as a frantic cough. “Really! While he seems to have taken a turn for the better, I err... no, no.” She hastily tried to think of something else to say. “I suppose I’ll have to look at other ages then.”
“Ooh... cougar on the prowl!”
Hermione almost sighed with relief that Ginny had not harped on her awkward turn of phrase. “That’s it, Gin.”
Ginny laughed. “Anyway, it’s all right, I’ll date Harry another day then. Have a good dinner, okay? Don’t run out on the boys again.”
“You’re the sweetest.”
"Love you, Hermione. I'll catch up with you soon."
"Take care, Gin."
The moment Hermione put down the phone, Pansy came out of Harry's office, gaping at the way Hermione had made herself comfortable at her desk.
"Excuse me, what is this?"
Hermione stretched her legs out. "Thought that, since someone wasn't really doing her job, I could use a part-time position."
Pansy rolled her eyes as she slammed down a stack of files onto her desk, effectively bumping Hermione's legs off the table. "Don't you mock me, lady, I know the Weaselette always calls at this time and if I could possibly do so without getting a pay cut, I could easily cast a vulgarity spell at five o'clock sharp as an automatic reply to her call."
Hermione lamented inwardly that Ginny’s and her wish for Pansy to fail spectacularly as Harry’s secretary was not going to be fulfilled any time soon.
-.-.-.-.-.-
“Blaise, it doesn’t take a bachelor a whole bloody hour to open a door!”
“It would take a bachelor one whole bloody hour to yell down that door, so you might just keep it up!” Blaise grinned to himself as he took his time flicking his wand about to clear the mess of bottles, crisp bags and papers strewn all around his sitting room. “Shut up and wait!”
“Zabini, you arse-I need to let off steam about a woman, and you take your own sweet namby-pamby time just like a woman. I swear...”
“All right, all right.” Blaise finally opened the door. Before him stood a very livid-looking Draco Malfoy, his blond hair sticking up in various clumps-which, given Draco’s obsession with hair products, said a lot about his current mood.
“I’m guessing said woman is Pansy?”
“Mention that woman’s name one more time and I’ll hex you into oblivion,” seethed Draco, storming into the sitting room.
“Your experience in dealing with her is, regrettably, lamentable. Please don’t tell me you’re ridiculously head-over-heels in love with Pans.”
“Of course not!” Draco snapped. “What the hell-didn’t I just tell you not to mention her?”
“You’re flirting with her too hard for me to take that seriously.”
“Very funny, Blaise.”
“You’re being terribly obvious. As if you want to draw attention to it.”
“Don’t act smart, you arse.”
“I do believe you’re just flirting with Pansy to make somebody jealous. If she’s even noticing in the first place, really...” Blaise mused. “Hmm? No? So you really are trying to hook up with Pans?”
“Pans is just a friend, okay? Although I’m quite tempted to proclaim otherwise after the bitchy comment she made earlier...” He began to mutter, “I’ve got a lot going for me and it’s just not being appreciated...”
“Aha!” Blaise stopped what he was doing and pointed a finger triumphantly at Draco. “So there is someone!”
Draco threw a cushion at Blaise’s head. “Get out of my head, you bloody moron.”
“So, who might this special lady be?”
-.-.-.-.-.-
"So, what shall we have?" asked Ron, brightly. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"
"I think I explicitly stated I didn't want her at dinner."
Harry sighed as he watched Pansy Parkinson fold her napkin daintily, about three tables away. "I can't stop her having a date with Blaise Zabini if she has to."
"You reckon she's dating him?" asked Ron, awkwardly.
Hermione huffed. "Honestly! She's such a leech! I don’t believe that Malfoy ever asked her out-she just wanted a convenient excuse to bring someone to dinner at a place she knows that we would be going to!"
"I think you're thinking far too much," said Harry. "We're supposed to have a nice dinner together, Hermione, remember?" And he gestured to the waiter.
Hermione threw a side-eye at Pansy, who raised her wineglass mockingly. Quickly, she took her own wineglass and got out of her seat.
"Hermione!" hissed Harry, but she ignored him as she headed towards Pansy and Blaise Zabini.
"Hi!” Hermione greeted the duo as sweetly as she could possibly manage. "Nice venue choice, Pansy."
"Why, I believe you had a part to play in recommending it, didn't you, Hermione?"
Zabini looked highly uncomfortable, merely leaning back in his chair and looking out of the window.
"So I see on your list of guys for dinner, you actually have a number two? I thought you were always pretty challenged in terms of choices, not that you were particular, really..."
Pansy smiled coquettishly. "For your information, I don't rank them. Blaise, this is the most exquisitely irritating woman I've ever known... oh wait, I'm sure you've known her a long time, of course, silly me. Don't even need to put a name to this huge mouth..."
"Good evening, Miss Granger," said Zabini, with a wink. Hermione couldn’t help but be slightly amused. At school, the darkness of Slytherin House had cast a shadow upon many of its members, but they seemed to be more than happy to shrug off the weight of that darkness the moment they left the confines of Hogwarts.
Well, it was still better to be on her guard.
Hermione raised her wineglass. "Well hi, Mr. Zabini, I believe I haven't seen you since our school days."
Zabini nodded. "I hear you're doing very well, Miss Granger, highly sought after in the Ministry of Law Enforcement."
Hermione was about to thank Zabini when Harry’s polite voice interrupted her thoughts. “Hermione! Oh, hi, Pans and Blaise, sorry about that.”
“Blaise?” Hermione turned around to stare at him. Since when have you guys been on a first-name basis?!
Harry shrugged. “Blaise drops by every now and then to say hi to Pansy.”
With that, Harry bid Pansy and Blaise goodbye, and Hermione flashed them a sickly-sweet smile before she followed Harry back to the table where Ron sat glowering at the duo.
“Whoa,” said Hermione, staring at Ron. “I can smell barbecue even before your ribs are here, Ron.”
“I don’t like that bloke,” muttered Ron. “Always bringing her fancy things and flowers.”
Hermione gaped. “You don’t say...” She looked at Harry, who was grinning slyly. “What in the name of Merlin are you thinking, Ron?! You haven’t got a crush on her, have you?!”
“Lower your bloody voice, will you!” hissed Ron.
“It must be the work of a love potion.”
“Hermione...”
“How long is it since I met with both of you?!” demanded Hermione. “Why do I feel like the world has changed? You all are being pally with Blaise Zabini, Ron’s got a crush on that Puggy Parks...”
And Draco Malfoy and I are-what’s the term for it? On civil terms? On good terms-on a joking basis? On...
“Now don’t you start on that!” warned Ron.
“It’s been two months since we’ve had a proper dinner together, Hermione,” said Harry, sighing.
“What do you mean, two months? Haven’t I been coming by the Burrow often enough? Why, I just went last week!”
“And was called off to save some house-elf from the jaws of commercial death,” said Ron, mechanically. “A couple of weeks ago, you had barely finished a sausage before you had to fly off to resuscitate one of your witnesses-who wasn’t human... honestly, Hermione, as if whining that you’re busy is not enough, you’re abandoning your best friends for all these magical creatures! You’re not even with the relevant departments of Magical Creatures or Healing!”
“Not to mention that half-or more-of your work with Law Enforcement is pro bono, so I honestly don’t know what you’re surviving on,” added Harry.
“Crumbs,” said Hermione, thickly. “Well, it’s what I’ve always wanted to do. Champion the underdogs. Is that wrong?”
Harry and Ron raised their hands. “Nope.”
Hermione sighed. To be honest, the resuscitation of the non-human witness had really been a case of trying to extract Draco Malfoy from interim prison after a creditor had hounded him down for the running debts his incarcerated father had chalked up. But of course, he could just remain the ‘non-human witness’ as far as Harry and Ron were concerned.
Barely two minutes into the actual consumption of dinner, something rattled in Hermione’s bag. Her expression changed, and Harry groaned, realising what it was going to be about.
Hermione fished out the badge that all Ministry employees had for communication purposes. Hers was glowing right now, though in all honesty, it wasn’t glowing red-the official Ministry colour. It was growing green, a colour she reserved for one of her clients. But Harry and Ron couldn’t see it from where they were seated.
She flashed an apologetic smile at her friends.
“One day, I will rise to the top of the Auror department and tell Sherridge to stop bugging you,” said Harry, as patiently as he could manage.
“Please do,” muttered Hermione.
-.-.-.-.-.-
The moment Hermione left the restaurant, Harry saw that Pansy and Blaise had moved to another table-a bigger one. He narrowed his eyes as his secretary beckoned him to join them.
“That’s a very bad idea,” said Ron, still glowering.
“Well, say we go and stake out the competition, that would be quite a smart move.”
Ron grunted. But Pansy winked at him, and he just had to give in. So there they were, two well-known Aurors dragging their feet across the restaurant. Harry tried not to look left and right-or at Pansy. His shoes did look perfectly shiny today...
“That was a firecracker,” commented Blaise, as Harry and Ron sat down.
“Stressed out lady,” replied Harry, smiling weakly. Then he glared at Pansy. “You just had to push her buttons, didn’t you?!”
“Couldn’t resist it,” said Pansy, and proceeded to sip wine daintily from her wineglass.
“It’s a bad habit of yours, Pans,” said Blaise, so casually that Ron was growing purple again. “That probably explains why Draco came huffing and puffing over to my apartment.”
Harry eyed Pansy sceptically. “What did you do to Malfoy?”
“I just said he was a lazy arse who thinks he can take things easy now that he’s got a job, a place to stay-”
“I’m confused,” said Blaise. “He doesn’t stay with you, does he?”
“I’ve rented out a room to him-at least, with three months’ worth of initial rent waived. That’s why he’s a lazy boar! You had better ensure there’re some profits in that business that can go towards funding his rent, or I’ll unceremoniously dump him outside into the wretched world of humiliation and misery.”
“I didn’t think he had to rent a room from you,” muttered Ron. “Isn’t he your guest?.”
“He has a business now,” said Pansy, shrugging. “All grown up. Needs to support himself, no?”
“He needs some support in one particular department though,” said Blaine, with a wicked glint in his eye.
“You don’t say!” Pansy gasped, setting down her wineglass so hard that a bit of wine spilled over. “Who is it?!”
“Who, what, where!” Ron demanded. “What the hell are you guys talking about?!”
“I don’t know if we’re supposed to be...” said Harry, beginning to stand up, but Blaise motioned for him to stay.
“Interestingly enough, you lot need to hear this.” Blaise grinned. “Our dear Draco Malfoy is hopelessly in love.”
“You’re talking rot,” said Pansy, at once. Harry and Ron exchanged incredulous-and rather disgusted-looks. “A crush? Perhaps. But hopelessly in love?”
“So I exaggerated,” said Blaise, crossly. Then he began to laugh. “Honestly, Pansy? I think you must have said a lot more than just calling him a lazy arse. You made him realise how pathetic he is at getting this lady’s attentions.”
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” said Pansy, airily. Then she narrowed her eyes at Blaise. “What the hell did he say to you? You need to stop beating around the bush, Blaise Zabini.”
“Oh let me see...” Blaise was clearly enjoying himself. “I’m pretty sure it’s someone we all know...”
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, please tell me it isn’t Millicent Turner,” said Pansy, groaning.
“I don’t exactly want to hear about any of Malfoy’s love affairs, to be honest,” said Harry, rather awkwardly. While he loved to have a one-up over Malfoy in many situations, the blond boy had been mostly civil to him after the War. They had exchanged brief words about their lives and the politics and economy, but the rest of his exploits had really been delivered by way of Pansy’s mouth. Harry had no doubt his life stories were going the other way into Malfoy’s ears as well, though he didn’t really fancy that thought.
“Actually, I don’t know who it is,” said Blaise, and everyone groaned dramatically at the anti-climax. “But I’m determined to find out, and I’m definitely making sure he gets her and settles down with her well.”
“What did he say about her?” asked Pansy, slightly more excited now. “He sounds smitten!”
“Well... he said he admired her,” said Blaise. “And that he had always admired her since his school days. I’m guessing she’s from Hogwarts and somebody we all know. He refused to say more though. Still, if it’s somebody Draco admires, she must really be somebody. It’s pretty difficult to impress him. He was all worried though, like is it so hard to believe that I care about someone now?”
“That is so freaking sweet,” said Pansy. “And disgusting.”
“Okay, now you’ve got me curious too,” admitted Harry. “Well, it just so happens that Malfoy is coming to my office tomorrow to help us identify a Dark fugitive. That might be a good time to start questioning him.”
“Why, I wouldn’t have pegged you as being even mildly interested in Draco’s affairs,” said Pansy, with a glint in her eye.
Harry grinned. “Oh, to have one-up over Malfoy? I wouldn’t pass up that chance.”
-.-.-.-.-.-
Hermione fiddled with her fingers as she focused on the case file before her. Then she opened it and began to busy herself flipping through the papers.
“I believe you have read that file about two hundred and sixty-four times. Is there really a need to go through it for the two hundred and sixty-fifth time?”
Hermione looked up crossly at a bemused Draco Malfoy. “Well, considering you interrupted my once-in-a-blue-moon dinner with my best mates, making me come back to this stuffy office, insisting that I had to change the trial date to an earlier slot, I might as well check one last time to see if the contract actually warrants you summoning me as and when you like it, even when it’s something that could have waited till tomorrow!”
“Touchy,” said Draco, leaning back in the chair. “I thought you might be jumping for joy to know that your time working with me is soon to be up.”
Hermione took a deep breath. “Right. That.” Then she mentally slapped herself. “The court has an opening next Friday. I need you to consolidate all the certifications and documents that I’ve asked you to apply for, so that the court will believe you’re capable of managing that amount of money. Can you do that?”
“Funny how you’re so much more positive about this than I am. Do you really think that highly of me?” Draco smirked slightly.
Hermione went red. “My confidence is based on professional experience. Can you stop changing the topic and at least answer me? I happen to be your lawyer!”
“A lawyer who is willing to do this without any recognition. Hmm.”
“I’m well-known for taking up pro bono cases.”
“But you always want to be recognised, Granger. Why not now?”
“I’m glad you think so highly of me,” snapped Hermione. “After one whole year of working together, is that all you think of me?”
Draco looked at her thoughtfully, then he shook his head. “Forget I asked.”
“You’re such a prat, it’s no wonder Pansy’s turning to someone else,” said Hermione, shutting the case file and packing her things.
Draco arched an eyebrow. “What?”
“You ditched her for dinner today and she’s chosen to go out with Zabini instead. Can’t you even hold onto your girl, Malfoy? Or are you spending your days thinking about how you’ll spend the money you’re about to get on wine and more girls to give you a lap dance or...”
Why was she even getting all worked up about this? She definitely didn’t care tuppence about Pansy Parkinson. Much less...
“First of all, I’m not a flirt,” said Draco, calmly, even as Hermione snorted. “Second of all, I’m not as confident as you about getting the money because I don’t have much confidence in the court. And third of all, Pansy’s not my girl.”
There was a short pause.
Then Hermione pushed her bushy curls out of her face as she shot back upright on the chair. “She isn’t?”
“What, just because I wear my boxers all around her house, I’m sleeping with her?” Draco’s voice had a bitter tone to it. “Besides, you do realise who I just ‘ditched’ her for, don’t you?”
Hermione didn’t know what to say; she just stared at Draco.
“I’ll see to the documents and hand them to you next week. Goodbye, Granger.” And he got up and left her office before she could say anything more.
-.-.-.-.-.-
In a bid to pacify her two friends, Hermione managed to clear all her work in the first half of the day so as to pay another visit to Harry’s office in the afternoon. When Pansy raised her head to see who the visitor was, she put on a fake smile and asked sweetly, “How may I help you?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m here to-well-ask Harry about another file.”
“You can just tell me. I’ll find it for you,” said Pansy, clearly not meaning to be very helpful.
“Hermione?” Ron had come by to give something to Harry, and he beamed. “Two days in a row-this must be a record!”
Hermione blushed furiously. “Sorry, Ron-you know-about yesterday.”
“Ah, that’s what you’re here for,” said Ron. He handed a file over to Pansy, who smiled back at him and, for a moment, he looked transfixed. Hermione knocked him back to reality.
“Err,” said Ron, turning a little red. “Harry’s busy.” He flipped a thumb to the green-rimmed black coat that was hung up outside Harry’s office, indicating that their friend had a visitor.
Hermione recognised that coat instantly and had to work hard to keep her expression neutral. After yesterday’s awkward encounter, she wasn’t sure if she could really withstand meeting him twice within a day’s span.
“Oh. Maybe I’ll just be g-”
The door swung open, and Draco Malfoy was shaking hands with Harry by the doorway. Draco turned-and his eyes met Hermione’s.
“Afternoon, Granger,” he said, calmly.
“Hi,” said Hermione, unable to say anything more.
“Hi, Hermione!” said Harry, pleasantly surprised.
“That was a fast meeting,” said Pansy, pouting a little.
Draco and Hermione exchanged rather intense looks, which went unnoticed by the others. By the time Hermione shook herself out of it, Draco had already left.
Immediately, Pansy and Ron flocked to Harry. “So what did he say?!”
“What-” Hermione began, but Harry was already speaking,
“Well, I kinda told him that he might be trailed by the suspicious Dark fugitive we’re after. The man was in close contact with Lucius Malfoy and Lucius might have owed him some money. So! That’s not too far from the truth.”
Pansy squealed with excitement; Hermione just stared at the trio, perplexed.
“So, I managed to get him to tell me his schedule just in case he needs reinforcements or trackers at any point in time.” Harry winked. “For starters, he’s got an appointment at the Ritz tonight. He specifically said a date, so don’t bother me.”
“Brilliant!” Pansy clapped. “So that’s where the three of us are going to have dinner.”
“Blow, that’s another load of Galleons I need to spend on bloody fine dining,” muttered Ron. “Is Malfoy determined to spend all the money that he has left? Which isn’t much?”
“The three of you? Dinner?” Hermione began.
But Pansy chipped in, “Oh, and Blaise of course. Well, Draco’s trying to get his money back, so he’s probably getting ready to celebrate.”
The badge in Hermione’s pocket rattled. She pulled it out and the green hue of it irked her very much. The trio before her were still excitedly planning out something she was clearly not a part of and she decided that there was no real need to excuse herself for a moment. She walked out of the main door, only to bump straight into Draco Malfoy in the corridor.
Hermione held up her badge in a huff. “What is it you want?”
Draco pursed up his lips. Then he held out a card. Hermione took it-and stared at it.
Why was her heart pounding so quickly?
Finally, she stammered, “T-the Ritz?”
“Take it as my thank you dinner to you. Unless you’ve already booked Potter and the Weaselhead, you usually like to reserve Friday night as time for yourself.”
“And what part of time-for-myself spells any more time for Draco Malfoy?” asked Hermione, annoyed and slightly confused by the coincidence of her friends having mentioned The Ritz earlier on.
“Well considering that after next Wednesday, you won’t need to spend any more time with me, I thought it would be polite to treat you for all the hard work you’ve put in.” He paused. “And all the self-control it’s taken not to box my ears again.”
“Or use a Jellylegs Jinx on you. I’ve seriously considered that.”
“I’ll see you tonight then?”
Hermione hesitated.
Over the last year or so, she had been struggling with this case-not just intellectually, but ethically as well. Draco’s question, as to why she had chosen to take his case, and why she was so optimistic about its outcome, was something she had asked herself time and again. And, every time, she had remembered how, during the War, at Malfoy Manor, he had stood behind his mother, his once-cruel expression replaced by fear and helplessness.
She hadn’t heard about him until Pansy Parkinson became Harry’s secretary a year after Hermione’s eighth-year graduation, and they found out he was planning to start a business on his own. That same year, Lucius and Narcissa were arrested for a conspiracy to summon the Dark Lord from the dead and were sent straight to Azkaban, leaving Draco behind with no support. Following that, a new court ruling on the War Remembrance Day threatened to bankrupt him with war reparations. He had ignored it for as long as he could, until the court came down heavily on him, insisting he pay or they would seize the entire contents of his Gringotts vault.
That was how Hermione had found his case-file in her office, quickly followed by his very presence.
I’m sorry, he’d said.
But it’s too late, isn’t it?
She really wanted to tell him it didn’t matter any more. After the War, nothing was the same. People-people had to start with a new slate. So that was how she saw him, and slowly, that blank canvas had grown into a drawing of a riot of colours-she couldn’t understand it, but it was different, at least. It made her smile and it made her feel almost... attracted.
What?
“Granger?” Draco’s voice brought her back to the present. He pursed up his lips. “You don’t have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to.”
The civil gentleman he had been portraying for the last year was definitely not making matters any better. But something else was bugging her. She debated whether to tell him. Then she decided it was really for the best, because Draco had not wanted anybody to know that she was his acting lawyer. “Those three inside are also planning to go to the Ritz for dinner. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“The Ministry’s spy agency is subtle,” said Draco, slightly annoyed. Then he grinned, startling her. “Well we’ll give them something to spy on, shall we? I’d like to see Potter and Weasley’s eyes pop out when they see who we’re dating. Spice it up a little, will you, Granger?”
Hermione stared at him, a little twinkle coming into her eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
“Aw come on, where’s that Gryffindor spirit of recklessness?”
“Bravery,” corrected Hermione.
“Same thing.”
Then he turned and left.
Hermione couldn’t help grinning a little when she went back inside the office to find that Harry was already back inside his room, Ron had gone-leaving behind Pansy, who was busy working on some files.
“So what was that about?” she asked, casually.
“Oh, nothing,” said Pansy, her head still bent over her work. “We’re just making sure Draco’s safe, that’s all. If you’re just here to say sorry, Granger, I’ll pass it on to Potter. That’ll be all because I’m really very busy. I suggest you dine with one of your stuffy-headed colleagues instead.”
Hermione looked at Pansy thoughtfully, then left, the grin still stuck on her face.
-.-.-.-.-.-
“The girl’s late. First sign of not being suitable,” whispered Blaise as the spy quartet of him, Pansy, Harry and Ron tried to look as inconspicuous as possible eating their dinner. Unfortunately, Pansy had worn a rather bright shade of pink, much to the chagrin of the men.
Draco Malfoy was sitting at the other end of The Ritz Restaurant, sipping a glass of wine.
“Why are you so sure that he’s meeting a girl?” asked Pansy. “I mean it could be...”
“Merlin’s beard!” Ron gasped, too loudly for his own good. “Do you mean he’s-he’s gay?”
Harry whacked him hard on the arm with a spoon.
“Of course not!” Pansy chastised. “Don’t be an arsehead.” Ron coloured a bit. “I meant that it could be for official purposes...”
“I don’t think so...” said Blaise, and all eyes focused on a customer who had just come in. Wavy jet black hair, startling green eyes... Pansy’s jaw dropped.
“For the love of Merlin, it really is Millicent Turner!”
Millicent walked past Draco’s table, then backtracked as the two of them said ‘hi’ and even exchanged hugs.
“He never liked that woman-always thought she was a prissy hag!” huffed Pansy. “And now he’s smitten with her?!”
“No, no, no...” Harry frowned. “Look, she’s walking away.”
“Oh, thank Merlin!”
“Look!” said Ron, suddenly. “It’s Hermione!”
“Don’t wave!” Pansy slapped his wrist down.
“Why not?” protested Ron. Then he grinned. “Are you jealous?”
Pansy thwacked him on the head. “I didn’t ask her to come!”
Harry laughed and sipped from his wineglass. “She’s probably just here with her ‘stuffy-headed colleague’... that what you said just now, Pans? Don’t think that I can’t-”
He trailed off as Hermione, clad in a very beautiful black evening dress, took her place opposite Draco Malfoy. Draco handed her a lovely bouquet of flowers, then did a simple finger flick, prompting one of the waiters to come by and fill Hermione’s glass with wine.
“No,” said Ron, his eyes almost popping out.
“No,” said Pansy, her tone both incredulous and derisive all at once.
“The firecracker...” Blaise looked sceptical.
Harry’s jaw had dropped so far, he couldn’t make any coherent words.
“Erm, nice gesture with the flowers... They are in that corner, right?” Hermione tried to hide her giggle behind her wineglass. “I think I caught sight of someone wearing a very, very dreadful shade of pink.”
“I told her I’d rip that dress to bits on Bonfire Night, it’s a travesty,” said Draco, calmly.
Hermione nearly choked on her wine. She really had to stop over-thinking whatever Draco Malfoy said; instead, she focused on ordering her food. Once the waiter had left, Draco leaned back in his chair and was looking so intently at her that it made her squirm with embarrassment.
“Can-can you stop looking at me like that?”
“Well, I was going to compliment you on how you look tonight, but since you don’t seem like you’re going to appreciate it...”
She blushed deeper. “Malfoy...”
“Don’t say you’re keeping this professional. We’re on a date, however pseudo it is.”
“Why is Hermione with Malfoy?!” Ron demanded. “She doesn’t even like him!”
“She said ‘hi’ yesterday,” said Pansy, thoughtfully. “Not ‘hi, you arsehole’. I didn’t notice when that started. But whatever, that’s just utterly gross! All that time he was lying in my couch, he was thinking of... her?!”
“No,” said Harry, determinedly. “Hermione will remain logical throughout and not fall prey to Malfoy’s advances... I can’t stand the sight of that ferret smiling at her like that!”
To Hermione’s and Draco’s surprise, they were served a plate of escargots-something neither of them had ordered. The waiter handed Draco a note, which he read out loud, “Hermione, thought this might be better dinner fare than the ferret sitting in front of you. Compliments from Harry and Ron.”
Hermione gasped and snatched the note out of Draco’s hands. Then she groaned. “Good grief. What are they trying to do?”
“Well, I’m not refusing a free plate of escargots. Did you know that there actually is a science of growing snails for food?”
“Heliculture,” replied Hermione, promptly. The surprised look on Draco’s face made her grin. “I thought you’d have called me out for being a know-it-all.”
“Well, you still are rather insufferable with regards to that,” said Draco, calmly ignoring the glare Hermione was giving him. “I just thought you were only knowledgeable about spells and hexes and jinxes and retorts.”
“I’ve a great many talents,” retorted Hermione.
“I know,” said Draco, surprising her. “That’s why I didn’t say anything when you agreed to take up my case.”
Hermione decided to change the subject. “Why do you think those four are here to spy on you? I don’t believe that cock-and-bull story of a Dark fugitive being hot on your heels.”
“That is actually true,” said Draco. “But I think those schemers have something else up their sleeves. If Blaise is hanging around Potter and Weasley... err, that’s definitely not a good thing.” He narrowed his eyes at the plate of escargots. Bloody hell, Blaise Zabini, what did your nosey-parker mind tell you to do now?
“Like?”
“Nothing!” Draco sat up straight. “Shall we begin?”
They proceeded to enjoy the escargots, which were really very tasty.
At the other end of the restaurant, Ron was whining, “I can’t believe she didn’t take that opportunity to stab him in the face with that skewer! How can he be so calm when I just called a snail a better creature than he is?!”
Pansy nudged Blaise. “Our turn.”
Once the escargots were finished, the waiter came to clear away the plate-and produced another dish that neither of them had ordered. Hermione stared at the cold dish of plentiful fresh scallops, oysters, lobster and crab meat salad-it was easily the most expensive appetiser in that restaurant and probably more expensive than the rest of their meal.
“Here’s another note,” she said, as she picked up the yellow piece of paper. “Wow, this is lengthy. ‘Draco, while this plate of delicacies and the !Kung Bush-woman before you have something in common in that they both look especially lovely tonight, their worth is quite different. Love, Blaise and Pansy. P.S. Check out Millicent’s bum, she looks hot tonight!’”
Hermione turned to eye Millicent Turner, who was trying hard to breathe in the corseted dress of hers. She looked back at Draco, who was already digging into the plate.
“Is Pansy trying to hook you up with someone?” she asked, bemused.
“She’s tired of me leeching onto her, I believe,” said Draco.
“Why don’t you clarify your relationship with her? The whole world thinks you’re dating!”
Draco’s fork froze. “Did you think so?”
“To answer your earlier question, yes, I do think that hanging around her house lazing on her couch in boxers does seem to imply a lot. Oh, not to mention that completely innocent-looking photograph on Puggy Parks’ desk, where she keeps it coffee-proofed with double-layered glass. Oh, and maybe also...”
There was a smirk on Draco’s face that stopped her. “What are you looking at me like that for?”
“Your hair really does look like a !Kung Bush-woman’s now, even when it’s tied up.”
“So, you’re agreeing with what they said?”
“Of course.”
Hermione scowled. She hadn’t expected such a candid answer.
“This, however” said Draco, raising a scallop on his fork. “has a quantifiable worth.” He popped the scallop into his mouth. “Mm. Some difference in worth there, for sure.”
Hermione couldn’t help blushing. Good grief, why was Draco Malfoy having this constant effect on her?
“He’s insulting her, I know it!” cried Ron, triumphantly, at the other end of the restaurant.
“Nobody smiles like that when she’s being insulted,” said Pansy, annoyed. “If they’re really going to date, I’m kicking that man out of my house!”
“I’m not giving this up,” said Harry, and he began to scribble another note.
When Hermione and Draco had finished their entrées, along with a surprisingly enjoyable conversation tying up the loose ends of Draco’s case in rather low voices, the waiter came by with a rather tired expression. Draco arched an eyebrow as a plate of candied brownies was placed before them. Hermione tried to stifle a laugh as she picked up the note, reading, “Hermione, eat this before Malfoy’s sugared words get to you. Do NOT believe him. At any cost. - Harry.”
“That was desperate,” said Draco, his sharp eyes catching the details of Harry’s writing shown in reverse through the back of the note.
“Well, he might be making a lot of sense,” said Hermione, putting the note aside. “Everything you’ve said tonight, apart from the case, has really been quite out of line.” She shrugged. “It’s not like you.”
Draco hesitated. “Not like me? So who is the real me?”
“I don’t know,” said Hermione, quietly. “For seven long years, you were that hateful, cruel and racist creature that called me names that hurt me to the core. Then over the next few years, you transform yourself into this martyr who is sorry for everything he’s done, yet tries to get back everything he’s lost because he thinks he deserves them. How am I supposed to know who the real you is?”
“Do you really think that?” Draco’s voice carried a hint of weariness.
No. “Maybe.”
“I’m guessing we both think we know a lot about each other, but the truth is we don’t really.”
She was startled when a warmth closed over her hand. Draco’s thumb was grazing the side of her hand, and she grew rigid instantly.
Over the other end of the restaurant, the conspirators were in a frenzy.
“I’m not trying to get everything back because I think I deserve it,” said Draco. “I’m trying to get it back for my parents. Not that they really deserve it...” He smirked bitterly. “But I have to.”
Hermione swallowed hard.
“I’m not pushing you to do anything, Hermione,” said Draco, suddenly. The use of her first-name sent a thrill down her spine. “I’m just asking for a chance.”
Hermione’s lips trembled. “For what?”
“You said you don’t pity me. That you’re not doing this to be recognised. I want to know why. But I’m not pushing you for an answer. I just want to...” He cleared his throat. “...to get to know you better.” He cocked his head to the side. “Will you?”
Hermione could feel the heat in her cheeks.
Draco paused.
“Bloody hell, I sound priggish, don’t I?” He withdrew his hand, rubbing the back of his neck with it.
“I think... I prefer you when you’re snarky,” said Hermione, awkwardly.
“So... like you’ve shown me that despite being the most insufferable brag-arse about being bloody altruistic with your pro bono efforts on behalf of unintelligible little creatures like house-elves, I still think I... I kinda fancy you?” asked Draco, narrowing his eyebrows.
Hermione’s lips tugged upwards slightly. “Yeah. Something like that. Though I’m also doing pro bono work for idiots like you, so that means extra points.”
Draco rolled his eyes, but then, Hermione held out her hand.
“It’s you who has to give me that chance to get to know you better.”
Draco smirked a little.
“So...” Hermione looked at him expectantly. “Just friends for now? We still have your case to deal with.”
Draco took her hand. “I’m guessing we’ll have another date after the hearing then? But I’m putting this out first-if I really lose, dinner’s going to be on you.”
Hermione winked. “Then I’ll make sure we’ll win.”
At the other end of the restaurant, the quartet looked very woebegone, until a waiter came by and served them a surprise dish of exquisite tiramisu.
“We didn’t-” Ron began, but the annoyed waiter stuck the note straight on his forehead. Pansy stifled a snort.
Harry snatched the note off Ron and began to read, “To our dear friends, we appreciate your kind advice and thank you for the generous food. It has only served to make our day much better. Here’s a little Italian cheer-me-up to keep you all smiling too! Love, Hermione and Draco.”
Ron spluttered into his wineglass while Blaise slapped his forehead. All four of them turned to stare at Hermione and Draco, who were pretending to blow kisses at them.
“I love that look on their faces,” said Draco, as he beamed brightly at an aggravated Blaise.
Hermione grinned too as Ron fell face-flat on the table.
“Merlin’s beard, did we just-” Blaise groaned.
“You don’t suppose-” Ron gulped.
“Can’t believe what he sees in-” muttered Pansy.
Harry was about to put in his two-cents worth when the waiter came by again.
“No more notes, please!” begged Pansy.
“My manager thinks it’s kind of sweet how you all played matchmaker for that couple,” said the waiter, in a bored voice. “She would like to do a short interview with you all for an article to promote the restaurant’s romantic ambience.”
The four of them looked at each other and made loud groans.
THE END
Title: The Reluctant Matchmaking Services Of Harry, Ron, Pansy and Blaise
Author: elektra30
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8,000
Summary: Hermione’s obsessed with work. Draco’s obsessed with a new love interest. When Harry, Ron, Pansy and Blaise come together to discuss their woes, they inadvertently stir up some latent feelings in those two...
Warnings: Mild Profanity
Author's Note(s): Also includes hints of Harry/Ginny and Ron/Pansy. Special thanks to ningloreth for the beta help! (:
To my mystery duet partner, you had such interesting prompts to work with! But they were also quite challenging because I’m not great on humour-so I apologise in advance for lame jokes and dramatic scenes! Still, I hope you like it; I tried to incorporate many of your ‘kinks’-including ‘feisty women’ haha-so, this one’s for you! (:
1 year ago...
“This is purely professional,” she said.
“Yes, of course.”
She swallowed hard. If anything went terribly wrong, she was hoping to blame it all on her boss. But really, whatever had possessed her to say ‘yes’ to this case? She, of all people, wanted the Malfoys to pay dearly for everything that they had done, most importantly for abetting torture in those bloody grounds of theirs...
“Granger?” he said, quietly. “You’re shaking.”
She gave herself a mental slap. “I’m fine. Why have you decided to take up this case now?”
There was a pregnant silence.
She rapped her fingers on the table. “I don’t have time for this, Malfoy, you better respond qui-”
“It’s been many years.”
A familiar rage was bubbling within her, but she took a deep breath to suppress it.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Her fingers froze in mid-air.
He gave her a bitter smirk. “But it’s too late, isn’t it?”
She didn’t answer him.
-.-.-.-.-.-
Present Day.
Knock, knock.
"Come in!"
Hermione popped her head round the door, only to see her two best friends and Pansy Parkinson engaging-or rather, they had been engaging-in a rather deep discussion. "Oh wow, am I intruding?” she asked.
"From Hogwarts’ best student, that seems like a rather stupid question," said Pansy, smoothly. She swivelled around in the armchair and stared expectantly at Hermione for a witty comeback.
Hermione came right into the room and gave Pansy nothing back, merely eyeing Harry sceptically, as if warning him, That's your secretary blathering away, you best back me up!
Harry cleared his throat. "I'm sure we can spare five minutes."
There was a pause.
Hermione cleared her throat.
Ron gave Pansy a hard nudge, and the girl glared at him. "I'm taking notes!"
"It's okay, Pans, no need for note taking now," said Harry.
Pansy shut her notebook in a huff. "Well, spill it, Miss Granger, Harry's got another meeting in fifteen minutes' time!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I was wondering if you could spare me the records for 1976. I'm doing an inquest into a battered pixie case, and it seems that a pattern is emerging."
"Oh..." Pansy clicked her tongue exasperatedly. "Honestly, Granger, that could have taken a phone call!"
"I also came to personally invite everyone to dinner, with the exception of you, of course," said Hermione, annoyed.
"Sure ," said Harry, immediately, with a bright smile. "I'll get the file for you, Hermione, but if you don't mind, I'll finish this meeting with Ron and Pans and give it to you just before we go off for dinner."
"Aw, can't I come?" Pansy whined. "Draco ditched me for dinner."
Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Malfoy's attempts to recreate his aristocratic gentlemanly image are failing rather spectacularly."
Pansy made a face. "Don't let him catch you saying that. You know how sensitive he is."
"Egomaniac," retorted Hermione, and she slammed the door shut.
"Don't come," begged Ron. "I'd like to see fireworks as part of a celebration, not because of a catfight!"
"I'm not the one acting immature! It’s no wonder that woman has been single for so long.” She looked at Ron and nodded. “Wise choice getting rid of her.”
Ron scowled. “We just weren’t suited to each other.”
“I see that.”
Harry shot Ron a sympathetic look. “It’s not like Hermione has been actively searching after that. So... it just means she’s not ready to settle down with anyone too.”
“Oh come on, all that cattiness? I’m sure it’s borne out of sexual repression,” said Pansy, airily.
Harry and Ron exchanged incredulous looks.
“Her workplace is male-dominated,” Pansy explained. “Please don’t tell me none of them has ever caught her fancy. I’m pretty sure the bleached blond boy in the cubicle on her left drops his pens on her side of the table so she can pick them up for him, and the reason why there’s a permanent coffee stain on the shirt of that hot muscular young man opposite her desk is because he can’t help drooling every time he sets his eyes on her. They’re good-looking, young and talented, and she doesn’t even care?”
“Maybe they really aren’t her type,” said Harry, defensively.
“I’d say-with the way she’s been looking lately-I reckon she’s actually taken a fancy to someone,” said Pansy.
“You don’t say!” gasped Ron. “We’re her best mates, we would know if something was up!”
“Ah, but I’m a woman, and I have my womanly instincts.”
Harry and Ron looked baffled.
-.-.-.-.-.-
To while away the time, Hermione sat herself in Pansy's seat outside Harry's office and began to observe the various items on the desk before her. She hadn't the faintest idea why Harry had allowed Pansy to be interviewed for the position in the first place, but she had to concede that with the shrewd way Pansy handled things, there couldn't possibly be a better person to shut off unwanted calls and visits, intercept prank or hate mail...
Hermione caught sight of a framed photograph at the corner of Pansy's desk-Pansy was putting her arms around Draco Malfoy's neck and both of them were smiling. It made Hermione uneasy to see Dra-Malfoy smile; that expression didn't appear that often. A little bitterness swelled up within her as she took in all the details of the photograph.
She had never really figured out if Pansy and Malfoy were really dating, or whether they were just friends with benefits, or something along those lines. There had been many an occasion when Harry and Ron had popped by Pansy's house, only to find Malfoy lounging on the sofa with only his boxers on, or sound asleep in her bedroom. When questioned, Pansy's replies were always cryptic, ranging from 'he's just a parasite' to 'I love him far too much, what can I do?'.
It wasn’t like Hermione really cared. No. Why should she care?
TRRIINGGGG!
Hermione was startled for a second, before her trained hand shot out to grab the phone. "Hello?"
"How many times must I tell you, Puggy Parks,” said a familiar voice, “you get me direct to Harry with a damned button?! I don't need to listen to your stupid voice every single time I-"
Hermione stifled a giggle. "Puggy Parks is currently in a meeting. I'm sorry, but I don't think she ordered ginger tea."
There was a pause. "Oh, Hermione, please tell me you've sued the hell out of Parkinson, landed her into the pit of bankruptcy and had her shipped away into exile."
"I wish I could find a valid reason to."
"I'll get into that abode of hers one day and find the evidence, mark my words."
Hermione laughed. "I'm having dinner with Harry and Ron later, would you like to join us?"
"Oh, barmy rats, you've beaten me to the chase!" Ginny sighed. "No, I think I'll leave you three to talk; it's been a long while since you've emerged from the depths of work and found them, I should think! I'll probably go out for a spot of shopping. Harry needs a new tie after Puggy Parks tore it out of his drawer thinking that it was waste paper."
"She did not."
"Believe me, the only reservation that I do not have with Puggy Parks is that she will steal my boyfriend from me. Other than that, I have every right to be highly suspicious of her."
"What, just because she's dating Malfoy?" Hermione tried to sound casual.
“Is she really?” Ginny’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“I don’t know. It seems pretty obvious to me.”
“Good for him then.”
“Excuse me?” Hermione nearly choked. “What’s so good about it for him?”
“Well, it’s not like he’s got a lot of options, does he? Ever since the War, everybody’s been giving him shifty eyes, and no other girl in their right mind-other than Puggy Parks-would ask him out. It’s quite sad, really, so if they’re truly dating and he’s not using her as some cover, then that’s pretty good, isn’t it?”
Hermione was slightly taken aback by Ginny’s rather frank assessment of Malfoy’s situation. “Wow.”
“You should be more concerned about yourself, Hermione! It’s been two sodding years and you are not the least turned on by the amount of testosterone in your office?”
“You’re kidding, Gin. I could not fall in love with any one of those blokes confined in those four stuffy walls.” Hermione had to lower her head slightly as she noticed that some of Harry’s employees were beginning to look up from their work.
“Ah, you admit they’re stuffy. Time to take a walk outside and explore the young ‘uns out there.”
“I need someone who matches me on an intellectual level. Which, truth to be told, none of them really do. But not on a social level, thank you very much, I think I’m painfully inadequate in that area and I don’t need my significant other to share that inadequacy.”
“Well, in your year, that just leaves Harry-who’s mine-and Malfoy.”
Hermione disguised her choke as a frantic cough. “Really! While he seems to have taken a turn for the better, I err... no, no.” She hastily tried to think of something else to say. “I suppose I’ll have to look at other ages then.”
“Ooh... cougar on the prowl!”
Hermione almost sighed with relief that Ginny had not harped on her awkward turn of phrase. “That’s it, Gin.”
Ginny laughed. “Anyway, it’s all right, I’ll date Harry another day then. Have a good dinner, okay? Don’t run out on the boys again.”
“You’re the sweetest.”
"Love you, Hermione. I'll catch up with you soon."
"Take care, Gin."
The moment Hermione put down the phone, Pansy came out of Harry's office, gaping at the way Hermione had made herself comfortable at her desk.
"Excuse me, what is this?"
Hermione stretched her legs out. "Thought that, since someone wasn't really doing her job, I could use a part-time position."
Pansy rolled her eyes as she slammed down a stack of files onto her desk, effectively bumping Hermione's legs off the table. "Don't you mock me, lady, I know the Weaselette always calls at this time and if I could possibly do so without getting a pay cut, I could easily cast a vulgarity spell at five o'clock sharp as an automatic reply to her call."
Hermione lamented inwardly that Ginny’s and her wish for Pansy to fail spectacularly as Harry’s secretary was not going to be fulfilled any time soon.
-.-.-.-.-.-
“Blaise, it doesn’t take a bachelor a whole bloody hour to open a door!”
“It would take a bachelor one whole bloody hour to yell down that door, so you might just keep it up!” Blaise grinned to himself as he took his time flicking his wand about to clear the mess of bottles, crisp bags and papers strewn all around his sitting room. “Shut up and wait!”
“Zabini, you arse-I need to let off steam about a woman, and you take your own sweet namby-pamby time just like a woman. I swear...”
“All right, all right.” Blaise finally opened the door. Before him stood a very livid-looking Draco Malfoy, his blond hair sticking up in various clumps-which, given Draco’s obsession with hair products, said a lot about his current mood.
“I’m guessing said woman is Pansy?”
“Mention that woman’s name one more time and I’ll hex you into oblivion,” seethed Draco, storming into the sitting room.
“Your experience in dealing with her is, regrettably, lamentable. Please don’t tell me you’re ridiculously head-over-heels in love with Pans.”
“Of course not!” Draco snapped. “What the hell-didn’t I just tell you not to mention her?”
“You’re flirting with her too hard for me to take that seriously.”
“Very funny, Blaise.”
“You’re being terribly obvious. As if you want to draw attention to it.”
“Don’t act smart, you arse.”
“I do believe you’re just flirting with Pansy to make somebody jealous. If she’s even noticing in the first place, really...” Blaise mused. “Hmm? No? So you really are trying to hook up with Pans?”
“Pans is just a friend, okay? Although I’m quite tempted to proclaim otherwise after the bitchy comment she made earlier...” He began to mutter, “I’ve got a lot going for me and it’s just not being appreciated...”
“Aha!” Blaise stopped what he was doing and pointed a finger triumphantly at Draco. “So there is someone!”
Draco threw a cushion at Blaise’s head. “Get out of my head, you bloody moron.”
“So, who might this special lady be?”
-.-.-.-.-.-
"So, what shall we have?" asked Ron, brightly. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"
"I think I explicitly stated I didn't want her at dinner."
Harry sighed as he watched Pansy Parkinson fold her napkin daintily, about three tables away. "I can't stop her having a date with Blaise Zabini if she has to."
"You reckon she's dating him?" asked Ron, awkwardly.
Hermione huffed. "Honestly! She's such a leech! I don’t believe that Malfoy ever asked her out-she just wanted a convenient excuse to bring someone to dinner at a place she knows that we would be going to!"
"I think you're thinking far too much," said Harry. "We're supposed to have a nice dinner together, Hermione, remember?" And he gestured to the waiter.
Hermione threw a side-eye at Pansy, who raised her wineglass mockingly. Quickly, she took her own wineglass and got out of her seat.
"Hermione!" hissed Harry, but she ignored him as she headed towards Pansy and Blaise Zabini.
"Hi!” Hermione greeted the duo as sweetly as she could possibly manage. "Nice venue choice, Pansy."
"Why, I believe you had a part to play in recommending it, didn't you, Hermione?"
Zabini looked highly uncomfortable, merely leaning back in his chair and looking out of the window.
"So I see on your list of guys for dinner, you actually have a number two? I thought you were always pretty challenged in terms of choices, not that you were particular, really..."
Pansy smiled coquettishly. "For your information, I don't rank them. Blaise, this is the most exquisitely irritating woman I've ever known... oh wait, I'm sure you've known her a long time, of course, silly me. Don't even need to put a name to this huge mouth..."
"Good evening, Miss Granger," said Zabini, with a wink. Hermione couldn’t help but be slightly amused. At school, the darkness of Slytherin House had cast a shadow upon many of its members, but they seemed to be more than happy to shrug off the weight of that darkness the moment they left the confines of Hogwarts.
Well, it was still better to be on her guard.
Hermione raised her wineglass. "Well hi, Mr. Zabini, I believe I haven't seen you since our school days."
Zabini nodded. "I hear you're doing very well, Miss Granger, highly sought after in the Ministry of Law Enforcement."
Hermione was about to thank Zabini when Harry’s polite voice interrupted her thoughts. “Hermione! Oh, hi, Pans and Blaise, sorry about that.”
“Blaise?” Hermione turned around to stare at him. Since when have you guys been on a first-name basis?!
Harry shrugged. “Blaise drops by every now and then to say hi to Pansy.”
With that, Harry bid Pansy and Blaise goodbye, and Hermione flashed them a sickly-sweet smile before she followed Harry back to the table where Ron sat glowering at the duo.
“Whoa,” said Hermione, staring at Ron. “I can smell barbecue even before your ribs are here, Ron.”
“I don’t like that bloke,” muttered Ron. “Always bringing her fancy things and flowers.”
Hermione gaped. “You don’t say...” She looked at Harry, who was grinning slyly. “What in the name of Merlin are you thinking, Ron?! You haven’t got a crush on her, have you?!”
“Lower your bloody voice, will you!” hissed Ron.
“It must be the work of a love potion.”
“Hermione...”
“How long is it since I met with both of you?!” demanded Hermione. “Why do I feel like the world has changed? You all are being pally with Blaise Zabini, Ron’s got a crush on that Puggy Parks...”
And Draco Malfoy and I are-what’s the term for it? On civil terms? On good terms-on a joking basis? On...
“Now don’t you start on that!” warned Ron.
“It’s been two months since we’ve had a proper dinner together, Hermione,” said Harry, sighing.
“What do you mean, two months? Haven’t I been coming by the Burrow often enough? Why, I just went last week!”
“And was called off to save some house-elf from the jaws of commercial death,” said Ron, mechanically. “A couple of weeks ago, you had barely finished a sausage before you had to fly off to resuscitate one of your witnesses-who wasn’t human... honestly, Hermione, as if whining that you’re busy is not enough, you’re abandoning your best friends for all these magical creatures! You’re not even with the relevant departments of Magical Creatures or Healing!”
“Not to mention that half-or more-of your work with Law Enforcement is pro bono, so I honestly don’t know what you’re surviving on,” added Harry.
“Crumbs,” said Hermione, thickly. “Well, it’s what I’ve always wanted to do. Champion the underdogs. Is that wrong?”
Harry and Ron raised their hands. “Nope.”
Hermione sighed. To be honest, the resuscitation of the non-human witness had really been a case of trying to extract Draco Malfoy from interim prison after a creditor had hounded him down for the running debts his incarcerated father had chalked up. But of course, he could just remain the ‘non-human witness’ as far as Harry and Ron were concerned.
Barely two minutes into the actual consumption of dinner, something rattled in Hermione’s bag. Her expression changed, and Harry groaned, realising what it was going to be about.
Hermione fished out the badge that all Ministry employees had for communication purposes. Hers was glowing right now, though in all honesty, it wasn’t glowing red-the official Ministry colour. It was growing green, a colour she reserved for one of her clients. But Harry and Ron couldn’t see it from where they were seated.
She flashed an apologetic smile at her friends.
“One day, I will rise to the top of the Auror department and tell Sherridge to stop bugging you,” said Harry, as patiently as he could manage.
“Please do,” muttered Hermione.
-.-.-.-.-.-
The moment Hermione left the restaurant, Harry saw that Pansy and Blaise had moved to another table-a bigger one. He narrowed his eyes as his secretary beckoned him to join them.
“That’s a very bad idea,” said Ron, still glowering.
“Well, say we go and stake out the competition, that would be quite a smart move.”
Ron grunted. But Pansy winked at him, and he just had to give in. So there they were, two well-known Aurors dragging their feet across the restaurant. Harry tried not to look left and right-or at Pansy. His shoes did look perfectly shiny today...
“That was a firecracker,” commented Blaise, as Harry and Ron sat down.
“Stressed out lady,” replied Harry, smiling weakly. Then he glared at Pansy. “You just had to push her buttons, didn’t you?!”
“Couldn’t resist it,” said Pansy, and proceeded to sip wine daintily from her wineglass.
“It’s a bad habit of yours, Pans,” said Blaise, so casually that Ron was growing purple again. “That probably explains why Draco came huffing and puffing over to my apartment.”
Harry eyed Pansy sceptically. “What did you do to Malfoy?”
“I just said he was a lazy arse who thinks he can take things easy now that he’s got a job, a place to stay-”
“I’m confused,” said Blaise. “He doesn’t stay with you, does he?”
“I’ve rented out a room to him-at least, with three months’ worth of initial rent waived. That’s why he’s a lazy boar! You had better ensure there’re some profits in that business that can go towards funding his rent, or I’ll unceremoniously dump him outside into the wretched world of humiliation and misery.”
“I didn’t think he had to rent a room from you,” muttered Ron. “Isn’t he your guest?.”
“He has a business now,” said Pansy, shrugging. “All grown up. Needs to support himself, no?”
“He needs some support in one particular department though,” said Blaine, with a wicked glint in his eye.
“You don’t say!” Pansy gasped, setting down her wineglass so hard that a bit of wine spilled over. “Who is it?!”
“Who, what, where!” Ron demanded. “What the hell are you guys talking about?!”
“I don’t know if we’re supposed to be...” said Harry, beginning to stand up, but Blaise motioned for him to stay.
“Interestingly enough, you lot need to hear this.” Blaise grinned. “Our dear Draco Malfoy is hopelessly in love.”
“You’re talking rot,” said Pansy, at once. Harry and Ron exchanged incredulous-and rather disgusted-looks. “A crush? Perhaps. But hopelessly in love?”
“So I exaggerated,” said Blaise, crossly. Then he began to laugh. “Honestly, Pansy? I think you must have said a lot more than just calling him a lazy arse. You made him realise how pathetic he is at getting this lady’s attentions.”
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” said Pansy, airily. Then she narrowed her eyes at Blaise. “What the hell did he say to you? You need to stop beating around the bush, Blaise Zabini.”
“Oh let me see...” Blaise was clearly enjoying himself. “I’m pretty sure it’s someone we all know...”
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, please tell me it isn’t Millicent Turner,” said Pansy, groaning.
“I don’t exactly want to hear about any of Malfoy’s love affairs, to be honest,” said Harry, rather awkwardly. While he loved to have a one-up over Malfoy in many situations, the blond boy had been mostly civil to him after the War. They had exchanged brief words about their lives and the politics and economy, but the rest of his exploits had really been delivered by way of Pansy’s mouth. Harry had no doubt his life stories were going the other way into Malfoy’s ears as well, though he didn’t really fancy that thought.
“Actually, I don’t know who it is,” said Blaise, and everyone groaned dramatically at the anti-climax. “But I’m determined to find out, and I’m definitely making sure he gets her and settles down with her well.”
“What did he say about her?” asked Pansy, slightly more excited now. “He sounds smitten!”
“Well... he said he admired her,” said Blaise. “And that he had always admired her since his school days. I’m guessing she’s from Hogwarts and somebody we all know. He refused to say more though. Still, if it’s somebody Draco admires, she must really be somebody. It’s pretty difficult to impress him. He was all worried though, like is it so hard to believe that I care about someone now?”
“That is so freaking sweet,” said Pansy. “And disgusting.”
“Okay, now you’ve got me curious too,” admitted Harry. “Well, it just so happens that Malfoy is coming to my office tomorrow to help us identify a Dark fugitive. That might be a good time to start questioning him.”
“Why, I wouldn’t have pegged you as being even mildly interested in Draco’s affairs,” said Pansy, with a glint in her eye.
Harry grinned. “Oh, to have one-up over Malfoy? I wouldn’t pass up that chance.”
-.-.-.-.-.-
Hermione fiddled with her fingers as she focused on the case file before her. Then she opened it and began to busy herself flipping through the papers.
“I believe you have read that file about two hundred and sixty-four times. Is there really a need to go through it for the two hundred and sixty-fifth time?”
Hermione looked up crossly at a bemused Draco Malfoy. “Well, considering you interrupted my once-in-a-blue-moon dinner with my best mates, making me come back to this stuffy office, insisting that I had to change the trial date to an earlier slot, I might as well check one last time to see if the contract actually warrants you summoning me as and when you like it, even when it’s something that could have waited till tomorrow!”
“Touchy,” said Draco, leaning back in the chair. “I thought you might be jumping for joy to know that your time working with me is soon to be up.”
Hermione took a deep breath. “Right. That.” Then she mentally slapped herself. “The court has an opening next Friday. I need you to consolidate all the certifications and documents that I’ve asked you to apply for, so that the court will believe you’re capable of managing that amount of money. Can you do that?”
“Funny how you’re so much more positive about this than I am. Do you really think that highly of me?” Draco smirked slightly.
Hermione went red. “My confidence is based on professional experience. Can you stop changing the topic and at least answer me? I happen to be your lawyer!”
“A lawyer who is willing to do this without any recognition. Hmm.”
“I’m well-known for taking up pro bono cases.”
“But you always want to be recognised, Granger. Why not now?”
“I’m glad you think so highly of me,” snapped Hermione. “After one whole year of working together, is that all you think of me?”
Draco looked at her thoughtfully, then he shook his head. “Forget I asked.”
“You’re such a prat, it’s no wonder Pansy’s turning to someone else,” said Hermione, shutting the case file and packing her things.
Draco arched an eyebrow. “What?”
“You ditched her for dinner today and she’s chosen to go out with Zabini instead. Can’t you even hold onto your girl, Malfoy? Or are you spending your days thinking about how you’ll spend the money you’re about to get on wine and more girls to give you a lap dance or...”
Why was she even getting all worked up about this? She definitely didn’t care tuppence about Pansy Parkinson. Much less...
“First of all, I’m not a flirt,” said Draco, calmly, even as Hermione snorted. “Second of all, I’m not as confident as you about getting the money because I don’t have much confidence in the court. And third of all, Pansy’s not my girl.”
There was a short pause.
Then Hermione pushed her bushy curls out of her face as she shot back upright on the chair. “She isn’t?”
“What, just because I wear my boxers all around her house, I’m sleeping with her?” Draco’s voice had a bitter tone to it. “Besides, you do realise who I just ‘ditched’ her for, don’t you?”
Hermione didn’t know what to say; she just stared at Draco.
“I’ll see to the documents and hand them to you next week. Goodbye, Granger.” And he got up and left her office before she could say anything more.
-.-.-.-.-.-
In a bid to pacify her two friends, Hermione managed to clear all her work in the first half of the day so as to pay another visit to Harry’s office in the afternoon. When Pansy raised her head to see who the visitor was, she put on a fake smile and asked sweetly, “How may I help you?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m here to-well-ask Harry about another file.”
“You can just tell me. I’ll find it for you,” said Pansy, clearly not meaning to be very helpful.
“Hermione?” Ron had come by to give something to Harry, and he beamed. “Two days in a row-this must be a record!”
Hermione blushed furiously. “Sorry, Ron-you know-about yesterday.”
“Ah, that’s what you’re here for,” said Ron. He handed a file over to Pansy, who smiled back at him and, for a moment, he looked transfixed. Hermione knocked him back to reality.
“Err,” said Ron, turning a little red. “Harry’s busy.” He flipped a thumb to the green-rimmed black coat that was hung up outside Harry’s office, indicating that their friend had a visitor.
Hermione recognised that coat instantly and had to work hard to keep her expression neutral. After yesterday’s awkward encounter, she wasn’t sure if she could really withstand meeting him twice within a day’s span.
“Oh. Maybe I’ll just be g-”
The door swung open, and Draco Malfoy was shaking hands with Harry by the doorway. Draco turned-and his eyes met Hermione’s.
“Afternoon, Granger,” he said, calmly.
“Hi,” said Hermione, unable to say anything more.
“Hi, Hermione!” said Harry, pleasantly surprised.
“That was a fast meeting,” said Pansy, pouting a little.
Draco and Hermione exchanged rather intense looks, which went unnoticed by the others. By the time Hermione shook herself out of it, Draco had already left.
Immediately, Pansy and Ron flocked to Harry. “So what did he say?!”
“What-” Hermione began, but Harry was already speaking,
“Well, I kinda told him that he might be trailed by the suspicious Dark fugitive we’re after. The man was in close contact with Lucius Malfoy and Lucius might have owed him some money. So! That’s not too far from the truth.”
Pansy squealed with excitement; Hermione just stared at the trio, perplexed.
“So, I managed to get him to tell me his schedule just in case he needs reinforcements or trackers at any point in time.” Harry winked. “For starters, he’s got an appointment at the Ritz tonight. He specifically said a date, so don’t bother me.”
“Brilliant!” Pansy clapped. “So that’s where the three of us are going to have dinner.”
“Blow, that’s another load of Galleons I need to spend on bloody fine dining,” muttered Ron. “Is Malfoy determined to spend all the money that he has left? Which isn’t much?”
“The three of you? Dinner?” Hermione began.
But Pansy chipped in, “Oh, and Blaise of course. Well, Draco’s trying to get his money back, so he’s probably getting ready to celebrate.”
The badge in Hermione’s pocket rattled. She pulled it out and the green hue of it irked her very much. The trio before her were still excitedly planning out something she was clearly not a part of and she decided that there was no real need to excuse herself for a moment. She walked out of the main door, only to bump straight into Draco Malfoy in the corridor.
Hermione held up her badge in a huff. “What is it you want?”
Draco pursed up his lips. Then he held out a card. Hermione took it-and stared at it.
Why was her heart pounding so quickly?
Finally, she stammered, “T-the Ritz?”
“Take it as my thank you dinner to you. Unless you’ve already booked Potter and the Weaselhead, you usually like to reserve Friday night as time for yourself.”
“And what part of time-for-myself spells any more time for Draco Malfoy?” asked Hermione, annoyed and slightly confused by the coincidence of her friends having mentioned The Ritz earlier on.
“Well considering that after next Wednesday, you won’t need to spend any more time with me, I thought it would be polite to treat you for all the hard work you’ve put in.” He paused. “And all the self-control it’s taken not to box my ears again.”
“Or use a Jellylegs Jinx on you. I’ve seriously considered that.”
“I’ll see you tonight then?”
Hermione hesitated.
Over the last year or so, she had been struggling with this case-not just intellectually, but ethically as well. Draco’s question, as to why she had chosen to take his case, and why she was so optimistic about its outcome, was something she had asked herself time and again. And, every time, she had remembered how, during the War, at Malfoy Manor, he had stood behind his mother, his once-cruel expression replaced by fear and helplessness.
She hadn’t heard about him until Pansy Parkinson became Harry’s secretary a year after Hermione’s eighth-year graduation, and they found out he was planning to start a business on his own. That same year, Lucius and Narcissa were arrested for a conspiracy to summon the Dark Lord from the dead and were sent straight to Azkaban, leaving Draco behind with no support. Following that, a new court ruling on the War Remembrance Day threatened to bankrupt him with war reparations. He had ignored it for as long as he could, until the court came down heavily on him, insisting he pay or they would seize the entire contents of his Gringotts vault.
That was how Hermione had found his case-file in her office, quickly followed by his very presence.
I’m sorry, he’d said.
But it’s too late, isn’t it?
She really wanted to tell him it didn’t matter any more. After the War, nothing was the same. People-people had to start with a new slate. So that was how she saw him, and slowly, that blank canvas had grown into a drawing of a riot of colours-she couldn’t understand it, but it was different, at least. It made her smile and it made her feel almost... attracted.
What?
“Granger?” Draco’s voice brought her back to the present. He pursed up his lips. “You don’t have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to.”
The civil gentleman he had been portraying for the last year was definitely not making matters any better. But something else was bugging her. She debated whether to tell him. Then she decided it was really for the best, because Draco had not wanted anybody to know that she was his acting lawyer. “Those three inside are also planning to go to the Ritz for dinner. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“The Ministry’s spy agency is subtle,” said Draco, slightly annoyed. Then he grinned, startling her. “Well we’ll give them something to spy on, shall we? I’d like to see Potter and Weasley’s eyes pop out when they see who we’re dating. Spice it up a little, will you, Granger?”
Hermione stared at him, a little twinkle coming into her eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
“Aw come on, where’s that Gryffindor spirit of recklessness?”
“Bravery,” corrected Hermione.
“Same thing.”
Then he turned and left.
Hermione couldn’t help grinning a little when she went back inside the office to find that Harry was already back inside his room, Ron had gone-leaving behind Pansy, who was busy working on some files.
“So what was that about?” she asked, casually.
“Oh, nothing,” said Pansy, her head still bent over her work. “We’re just making sure Draco’s safe, that’s all. If you’re just here to say sorry, Granger, I’ll pass it on to Potter. That’ll be all because I’m really very busy. I suggest you dine with one of your stuffy-headed colleagues instead.”
Hermione looked at Pansy thoughtfully, then left, the grin still stuck on her face.
-.-.-.-.-.-
“The girl’s late. First sign of not being suitable,” whispered Blaise as the spy quartet of him, Pansy, Harry and Ron tried to look as inconspicuous as possible eating their dinner. Unfortunately, Pansy had worn a rather bright shade of pink, much to the chagrin of the men.
Draco Malfoy was sitting at the other end of The Ritz Restaurant, sipping a glass of wine.
“Why are you so sure that he’s meeting a girl?” asked Pansy. “I mean it could be...”
“Merlin’s beard!” Ron gasped, too loudly for his own good. “Do you mean he’s-he’s gay?”
Harry whacked him hard on the arm with a spoon.
“Of course not!” Pansy chastised. “Don’t be an arsehead.” Ron coloured a bit. “I meant that it could be for official purposes...”
“I don’t think so...” said Blaise, and all eyes focused on a customer who had just come in. Wavy jet black hair, startling green eyes... Pansy’s jaw dropped.
“For the love of Merlin, it really is Millicent Turner!”
Millicent walked past Draco’s table, then backtracked as the two of them said ‘hi’ and even exchanged hugs.
“He never liked that woman-always thought she was a prissy hag!” huffed Pansy. “And now he’s smitten with her?!”
“No, no, no...” Harry frowned. “Look, she’s walking away.”
“Oh, thank Merlin!”
“Look!” said Ron, suddenly. “It’s Hermione!”
“Don’t wave!” Pansy slapped his wrist down.
“Why not?” protested Ron. Then he grinned. “Are you jealous?”
Pansy thwacked him on the head. “I didn’t ask her to come!”
Harry laughed and sipped from his wineglass. “She’s probably just here with her ‘stuffy-headed colleague’... that what you said just now, Pans? Don’t think that I can’t-”
He trailed off as Hermione, clad in a very beautiful black evening dress, took her place opposite Draco Malfoy. Draco handed her a lovely bouquet of flowers, then did a simple finger flick, prompting one of the waiters to come by and fill Hermione’s glass with wine.
“No,” said Ron, his eyes almost popping out.
“No,” said Pansy, her tone both incredulous and derisive all at once.
“The firecracker...” Blaise looked sceptical.
Harry’s jaw had dropped so far, he couldn’t make any coherent words.
“Erm, nice gesture with the flowers... They are in that corner, right?” Hermione tried to hide her giggle behind her wineglass. “I think I caught sight of someone wearing a very, very dreadful shade of pink.”
“I told her I’d rip that dress to bits on Bonfire Night, it’s a travesty,” said Draco, calmly.
Hermione nearly choked on her wine. She really had to stop over-thinking whatever Draco Malfoy said; instead, she focused on ordering her food. Once the waiter had left, Draco leaned back in his chair and was looking so intently at her that it made her squirm with embarrassment.
“Can-can you stop looking at me like that?”
“Well, I was going to compliment you on how you look tonight, but since you don’t seem like you’re going to appreciate it...”
She blushed deeper. “Malfoy...”
“Don’t say you’re keeping this professional. We’re on a date, however pseudo it is.”
“Why is Hermione with Malfoy?!” Ron demanded. “She doesn’t even like him!”
“She said ‘hi’ yesterday,” said Pansy, thoughtfully. “Not ‘hi, you arsehole’. I didn’t notice when that started. But whatever, that’s just utterly gross! All that time he was lying in my couch, he was thinking of... her?!”
“No,” said Harry, determinedly. “Hermione will remain logical throughout and not fall prey to Malfoy’s advances... I can’t stand the sight of that ferret smiling at her like that!”
To Hermione’s and Draco’s surprise, they were served a plate of escargots-something neither of them had ordered. The waiter handed Draco a note, which he read out loud, “Hermione, thought this might be better dinner fare than the ferret sitting in front of you. Compliments from Harry and Ron.”
Hermione gasped and snatched the note out of Draco’s hands. Then she groaned. “Good grief. What are they trying to do?”
“Well, I’m not refusing a free plate of escargots. Did you know that there actually is a science of growing snails for food?”
“Heliculture,” replied Hermione, promptly. The surprised look on Draco’s face made her grin. “I thought you’d have called me out for being a know-it-all.”
“Well, you still are rather insufferable with regards to that,” said Draco, calmly ignoring the glare Hermione was giving him. “I just thought you were only knowledgeable about spells and hexes and jinxes and retorts.”
“I’ve a great many talents,” retorted Hermione.
“I know,” said Draco, surprising her. “That’s why I didn’t say anything when you agreed to take up my case.”
Hermione decided to change the subject. “Why do you think those four are here to spy on you? I don’t believe that cock-and-bull story of a Dark fugitive being hot on your heels.”
“That is actually true,” said Draco. “But I think those schemers have something else up their sleeves. If Blaise is hanging around Potter and Weasley... err, that’s definitely not a good thing.” He narrowed his eyes at the plate of escargots. Bloody hell, Blaise Zabini, what did your nosey-parker mind tell you to do now?
“Like?”
“Nothing!” Draco sat up straight. “Shall we begin?”
They proceeded to enjoy the escargots, which were really very tasty.
At the other end of the restaurant, Ron was whining, “I can’t believe she didn’t take that opportunity to stab him in the face with that skewer! How can he be so calm when I just called a snail a better creature than he is?!”
Pansy nudged Blaise. “Our turn.”
Once the escargots were finished, the waiter came to clear away the plate-and produced another dish that neither of them had ordered. Hermione stared at the cold dish of plentiful fresh scallops, oysters, lobster and crab meat salad-it was easily the most expensive appetiser in that restaurant and probably more expensive than the rest of their meal.
“Here’s another note,” she said, as she picked up the yellow piece of paper. “Wow, this is lengthy. ‘Draco, while this plate of delicacies and the !Kung Bush-woman before you have something in common in that they both look especially lovely tonight, their worth is quite different. Love, Blaise and Pansy. P.S. Check out Millicent’s bum, she looks hot tonight!’”
Hermione turned to eye Millicent Turner, who was trying hard to breathe in the corseted dress of hers. She looked back at Draco, who was already digging into the plate.
“Is Pansy trying to hook you up with someone?” she asked, bemused.
“She’s tired of me leeching onto her, I believe,” said Draco.
“Why don’t you clarify your relationship with her? The whole world thinks you’re dating!”
Draco’s fork froze. “Did you think so?”
“To answer your earlier question, yes, I do think that hanging around her house lazing on her couch in boxers does seem to imply a lot. Oh, not to mention that completely innocent-looking photograph on Puggy Parks’ desk, where she keeps it coffee-proofed with double-layered glass. Oh, and maybe also...”
There was a smirk on Draco’s face that stopped her. “What are you looking at me like that for?”
“Your hair really does look like a !Kung Bush-woman’s now, even when it’s tied up.”
“So, you’re agreeing with what they said?”
“Of course.”
Hermione scowled. She hadn’t expected such a candid answer.
“This, however” said Draco, raising a scallop on his fork. “has a quantifiable worth.” He popped the scallop into his mouth. “Mm. Some difference in worth there, for sure.”
Hermione couldn’t help blushing. Good grief, why was Draco Malfoy having this constant effect on her?
“He’s insulting her, I know it!” cried Ron, triumphantly, at the other end of the restaurant.
“Nobody smiles like that when she’s being insulted,” said Pansy, annoyed. “If they’re really going to date, I’m kicking that man out of my house!”
“I’m not giving this up,” said Harry, and he began to scribble another note.
When Hermione and Draco had finished their entrées, along with a surprisingly enjoyable conversation tying up the loose ends of Draco’s case in rather low voices, the waiter came by with a rather tired expression. Draco arched an eyebrow as a plate of candied brownies was placed before them. Hermione tried to stifle a laugh as she picked up the note, reading, “Hermione, eat this before Malfoy’s sugared words get to you. Do NOT believe him. At any cost. - Harry.”
“That was desperate,” said Draco, his sharp eyes catching the details of Harry’s writing shown in reverse through the back of the note.
“Well, he might be making a lot of sense,” said Hermione, putting the note aside. “Everything you’ve said tonight, apart from the case, has really been quite out of line.” She shrugged. “It’s not like you.”
Draco hesitated. “Not like me? So who is the real me?”
“I don’t know,” said Hermione, quietly. “For seven long years, you were that hateful, cruel and racist creature that called me names that hurt me to the core. Then over the next few years, you transform yourself into this martyr who is sorry for everything he’s done, yet tries to get back everything he’s lost because he thinks he deserves them. How am I supposed to know who the real you is?”
“Do you really think that?” Draco’s voice carried a hint of weariness.
No. “Maybe.”
“I’m guessing we both think we know a lot about each other, but the truth is we don’t really.”
She was startled when a warmth closed over her hand. Draco’s thumb was grazing the side of her hand, and she grew rigid instantly.
Over the other end of the restaurant, the conspirators were in a frenzy.
“I’m not trying to get everything back because I think I deserve it,” said Draco. “I’m trying to get it back for my parents. Not that they really deserve it...” He smirked bitterly. “But I have to.”
Hermione swallowed hard.
“I’m not pushing you to do anything, Hermione,” said Draco, suddenly. The use of her first-name sent a thrill down her spine. “I’m just asking for a chance.”
Hermione’s lips trembled. “For what?”
“You said you don’t pity me. That you’re not doing this to be recognised. I want to know why. But I’m not pushing you for an answer. I just want to...” He cleared his throat. “...to get to know you better.” He cocked his head to the side. “Will you?”
Hermione could feel the heat in her cheeks.
Draco paused.
“Bloody hell, I sound priggish, don’t I?” He withdrew his hand, rubbing the back of his neck with it.
“I think... I prefer you when you’re snarky,” said Hermione, awkwardly.
“So... like you’ve shown me that despite being the most insufferable brag-arse about being bloody altruistic with your pro bono efforts on behalf of unintelligible little creatures like house-elves, I still think I... I kinda fancy you?” asked Draco, narrowing his eyebrows.
Hermione’s lips tugged upwards slightly. “Yeah. Something like that. Though I’m also doing pro bono work for idiots like you, so that means extra points.”
Draco rolled his eyes, but then, Hermione held out her hand.
“It’s you who has to give me that chance to get to know you better.”
Draco smirked a little.
“So...” Hermione looked at him expectantly. “Just friends for now? We still have your case to deal with.”
Draco took her hand. “I’m guessing we’ll have another date after the hearing then? But I’m putting this out first-if I really lose, dinner’s going to be on you.”
Hermione winked. “Then I’ll make sure we’ll win.”
At the other end of the restaurant, the quartet looked very woebegone, until a waiter came by and served them a surprise dish of exquisite tiramisu.
“We didn’t-” Ron began, but the annoyed waiter stuck the note straight on his forehead. Pansy stifled a snort.
Harry snatched the note off Ron and began to read, “To our dear friends, we appreciate your kind advice and thank you for the generous food. It has only served to make our day much better. Here’s a little Italian cheer-me-up to keep you all smiling too! Love, Hermione and Draco.”
Ron spluttered into his wineglass while Blaise slapped his forehead. All four of them turned to stare at Hermione and Draco, who were pretending to blow kisses at them.
“I love that look on their faces,” said Draco, as he beamed brightly at an aggravated Blaise.
Hermione grinned too as Ron fell face-flat on the table.
“Merlin’s beard, did we just-” Blaise groaned.
“You don’t suppose-” Ron gulped.
“Can’t believe what he sees in-” muttered Pansy.
Harry was about to put in his two-cents worth when the waiter came by again.
“No more notes, please!” begged Pansy.
“My manager thinks it’s kind of sweet how you all played matchmaker for that couple,” said the waiter, in a bored voice. “She would like to do a short interview with you all for an article to promote the restaurant’s romantic ambience.”
The four of them looked at each other and made loud groans.
THE END