Everything Falls Apart Chapter 9 Not A Date
Title: Everything Falls Apart
Author: hinkykneazel
Pairing(s)/Characters: Hermione/Draco
Summary: Hermione Granger is just over 40 when everything in her life falls apart: her marriage, her job, and her peace of mind. How does she pick up the pieces and build a new, more satisfying life?
Rating: R
Genre: Romance
Spoilers: DH Epilogue Compliant
Author’s Notes: Hermione gets an ultimatum at work and an invitation to dinner.
Chapter List
Chapter 9: Not a Date
Saturday, January 9, 2021
Hermione's house
Hermione glared at her reflection in the mirror. The burgundy wrap dress was the fifth outfit she had tried on for this not-date she had with Draco tonight. She shook her head at the insanity that was her bedroom with the previously rejected clothing flung about. The black dress had been too slutty. The green suit too uptight; jeans and a jumper too casual; black robes too business-like.
“If I only knew if this was a date or not!” she scolded the mirror while twisting her hair into a tight chignon. “He said it wasn’t a date, but that damn Slytherin would say anything to get me to say yes.”
She looked over at the clock and growled. 18.30pm. Now she was running late; there was no time to change her clothes yet again. Hermione rummaged through her jewelry box to find matching earrings. Putting the little gold hoops on, she noticed the wedding ring she had yet to remove from her left hand.
For a moment Hermione was lost as she thought back to the beginnings of her relationship with Ron. They had never really dated, just stumbled along through a series of mishaps like a romantic comedy, from the Yule Ball fiasco of fourth year to Ron’s crying, drunken proposal at Harry and Ginny’s wedding. Everyone just assumed they would be together, so they just fell into line. It had been . . . comfortable, and now it was over.
This, whatever this was with Draco, was anything but comfortable. This was uncharted territory, and here there be dragons-literally. Hermione giggled to herself at the reference. Date or no-and perhaps it would be easier, more calming to assume it was not a date-she decided not to wear her wedding ring any longer. She dropped the ring into the box with the other jewelry, where it landed with a heavy clunk.
It was now 18.45pm with no time for make-up the Muggle way. Hermione used her “evening out” cosmetic charm, brushed some lint from her dress, and tucked her wand into her bag. With one last look in the mirror before Apparating away, she realized that this was definitely a date.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Draco's penthouse flat
Draco smirked at his reflection in the dressing room mirror. As he brushed his hair and straightened his tie, he realized that he was whistling-a habit Astoria had always hated. He couldn't remember the last time he had whistled while getting ready. When was the last time he had been happy getting ready for a date? In his mind, this was definitely a date, no matter what he told Granger.
As he brushed his teeth, he thought back to his courtship of Astoria. Theirs had been an arranged marriage of two family estates, not two people in love, and the engagement had been highly public. Why the Greengrasses had wanted the alliance with the Malfoys after the War was anyone's guess -- oh, yes, the money; large sums of it and the land holdings could go quite a ways in repairing a war-torn reputation. Astoria and he had been seen at all the newly opened ventures, supporting every one without regard to the blood purity or lack thereof of the owners or primary investors. But in private they had little in common with each other nor any desire to find much common ground. Their marriage had been expected, and now it was over.
Whatever he felt for Granger was anything but expected. She inflamed his curiosity and his passion. She was a law unto herself, a force of nature within the Ministry. Just thinking about that one long-ago night with her never failed to make him angry or horny or both. Now he was aroused, on edge, and sure to misstep with her tonight if he neglected to take care of himself.
A quick wank in the bathroom followed by a splash of cologne finished his preparations. He winked at himself in the mirror and grabbed his wand and wallet. "Play it how you need to, Granger, but this is so a date."
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
The Leaky Cauldron
Hermione arrived with a few minutes to spare. Not seeing Draco yet, she headed to the bar and ordered a sparkling water with lemon twist to give her hands something to do while she waited. Just as she brought the glass to her mouth, she felt warmth at her back and heard Draco's greeting, "Granger."
She looked at him through the mirror over the bar and asked, "What would it take for you to call me Hermione?"
"Hmmm. . . maybe a kiss?" he said deliciously close to her ear.
"I thought this wasn't a date, hmm? Maybe a kiss?"
"Um hm," Draco purred.
At this she turned to face him directly. "That makes no sense, Draco Malfoy. We have kissed before and you still call me 'Granger'."
Draco cocked an eyebrow at her and smiled sideways. "Yes, but then you ran away after. So it doesn't count at all, you see."
Hermione huffed in frustration and embarrassment. "Of course, you are right. This one time."
Draco laughed and took the drink out of her hand. "What are you having anyway, Granger?" He grimaced as the water hit his tongue. "Water? Really? Granger, I'm disappointed," he pouted. "Let's go and get something with flavor to drink." He stepped back and motioned her toward the door.
A quick walk in the frosty evening air led them to the door of a little unlabeled restaurant with a red awning and red-and-white gingham curtains in the window. Inside, semi-circular red leather booths lined the walls with a line of white-linen-draped tables down the center. The lighting provided a measure of privacy while allowing patrons to see what they were eating. The atmosphere blended classy and comfortable. Hermione loved it immediately.
The maitre 'd showed them to a corner booth and left them with a wine list and menu. It wasn't until after Draco had ordered their aperitifs that they picked up their conversation.
"Why are we here again if this is not a date, Draco?" Hermione asked.
Draco smiled. "The owner wants to retire. The chef wants to buy him out and renovate but does not have all the capital needed. I like to invest in family, but I also want to ensure I make a good return. The chef is preparing one of his signature creations that would be on the new menu. I couldn't very well come here alone, and as I trust your lead in my other business ventures, I asked you to accompany me. And I do know how you love to offer your opinions."
Hermione's mouth tightened slightly. Draco chuckled, "Oh, Granger, don't take it that way. How else was I supposed to get you to come out with me?"
She wrinkled her nose, hating how transparent she was. Mercifully, a waiter arrived with their cocktails and asked if they wanted to choose their own wines or rely on the recommendations of the chef. With a quick look at Hermione, Draco said, "Our evening is in the chef's capable hands."
With the waiter gone, Draco asked the first question that popped into his head. “So, why did you and Weasley split?
Hermione looked at him like he was daft. “Isn’t that a bad conversation for a first date?”
“Ah, but as you insisted, this is not a date.”
Hermione grimaced and sighed, “Fine,” before taking a drink. “After years of a comfortable, if not passionate, marriage, Ron tells me he’s gay, apologizes for hurting me, and then shacks up with his lover. Happy?”
With a gleam in his eye, Draco leaned forward, “Really? The Weasel is a poufter?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Not a poufter. Just prefers them in his bed. No, Draco,” she continued, “get that look of glee out of your eyes. It’s not funny. . . really.” Her voice broke. She closed her eyes and tried to collect herself.
Draco placed his hand over hers and rearranged his facial expression. “Granger, you’re right. I’m sorry you are hurting.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes and looked at Draco with suspicion. “What was that?”
“What?” Draco asked in all innocence.
Hermione leaned closer to examine his face, her eyes lingering over his. “It is frightening how fast you can switch that on and off.”
Draco was startled. “You saw all that?” He sighed and his countenance shifted again. “Comes in handy to put the mask on and off.”
“As a Malfoy?” Hermione asked with one eyebrow cocked.
“Yeah,” Draco chuckled.
“Which one is the mask then? The devilish Slytherin, the sincere friend, the innocent, or the cynical Malfoy scion?”
Draco shook his head. “Funny thing is, I don’t know anymore. Maybe they all are. Maybe they all hold a bit of truth. If you put stock in such things, you could blame it on the fact I was born under the sign of Gemini,” he shrugged.
Hermione smiled, “Or maybe, as Jung posited, we are all multiple complexes waiting in the subconscious, waiting to express themselves.”
Smirking, Draco teased, “Going to analyze me now, huh, Granger? I hear that’s not polite on a first date.”
“Ah, but as we’ve established, this is not a date,” Hermione laughed.
“Touché.”
Just then the waiter brought their meal and wine to the table. “By the chef’s compliments, he has prepared for you a pork tenderloin layered on sautéed spinach and golden beets topped with an orange sauce and accompanied by truffled cognac macaroni and cheese. We have paired this with a 1999 Trimbach Cuvée des Seigneurs de Ribeaupierre Gewürztraminer. Enjoy your meal.”
For the next several minutes, Hermione and Draco focused on the meal. Their conversation was reduced to low moans of pleasure, hand waving, and short words such as “so good,” “mmmm,” and “god!” Hermione set her fork to the side to pick up her wine glass and asked Draco, “So, you mentioned investing in family earlier. Who is the chef?”
Draco looked up and replied, “Well, he’s coming this way now.”
Hermione’s eyes widen as she identified the young man in white striding to their table. “Teddy?”
“Aunt Hermione?”
Draco smirked and placed his hand over Hermione’s. “Oh, I see you know one another already.”
Author: hinkykneazel
Pairing(s)/Characters: Hermione/Draco
Summary: Hermione Granger is just over 40 when everything in her life falls apart: her marriage, her job, and her peace of mind. How does she pick up the pieces and build a new, more satisfying life?
Rating: R
Genre: Romance
Spoilers: DH Epilogue Compliant
Author’s Notes: Hermione gets an ultimatum at work and an invitation to dinner.
Chapter List
Chapter 9: Not a Date
Saturday, January 9, 2021
Hermione's house
Hermione glared at her reflection in the mirror. The burgundy wrap dress was the fifth outfit she had tried on for this not-date she had with Draco tonight. She shook her head at the insanity that was her bedroom with the previously rejected clothing flung about. The black dress had been too slutty. The green suit too uptight; jeans and a jumper too casual; black robes too business-like.
“If I only knew if this was a date or not!” she scolded the mirror while twisting her hair into a tight chignon. “He said it wasn’t a date, but that damn Slytherin would say anything to get me to say yes.”
She looked over at the clock and growled. 18.30pm. Now she was running late; there was no time to change her clothes yet again. Hermione rummaged through her jewelry box to find matching earrings. Putting the little gold hoops on, she noticed the wedding ring she had yet to remove from her left hand.
For a moment Hermione was lost as she thought back to the beginnings of her relationship with Ron. They had never really dated, just stumbled along through a series of mishaps like a romantic comedy, from the Yule Ball fiasco of fourth year to Ron’s crying, drunken proposal at Harry and Ginny’s wedding. Everyone just assumed they would be together, so they just fell into line. It had been . . . comfortable, and now it was over.
This, whatever this was with Draco, was anything but comfortable. This was uncharted territory, and here there be dragons-literally. Hermione giggled to herself at the reference. Date or no-and perhaps it would be easier, more calming to assume it was not a date-she decided not to wear her wedding ring any longer. She dropped the ring into the box with the other jewelry, where it landed with a heavy clunk.
It was now 18.45pm with no time for make-up the Muggle way. Hermione used her “evening out” cosmetic charm, brushed some lint from her dress, and tucked her wand into her bag. With one last look in the mirror before Apparating away, she realized that this was definitely a date.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Draco's penthouse flat
Draco smirked at his reflection in the dressing room mirror. As he brushed his hair and straightened his tie, he realized that he was whistling-a habit Astoria had always hated. He couldn't remember the last time he had whistled while getting ready. When was the last time he had been happy getting ready for a date? In his mind, this was definitely a date, no matter what he told Granger.
As he brushed his teeth, he thought back to his courtship of Astoria. Theirs had been an arranged marriage of two family estates, not two people in love, and the engagement had been highly public. Why the Greengrasses had wanted the alliance with the Malfoys after the War was anyone's guess -- oh, yes, the money; large sums of it and the land holdings could go quite a ways in repairing a war-torn reputation. Astoria and he had been seen at all the newly opened ventures, supporting every one without regard to the blood purity or lack thereof of the owners or primary investors. But in private they had little in common with each other nor any desire to find much common ground. Their marriage had been expected, and now it was over.
Whatever he felt for Granger was anything but expected. She inflamed his curiosity and his passion. She was a law unto herself, a force of nature within the Ministry. Just thinking about that one long-ago night with her never failed to make him angry or horny or both. Now he was aroused, on edge, and sure to misstep with her tonight if he neglected to take care of himself.
A quick wank in the bathroom followed by a splash of cologne finished his preparations. He winked at himself in the mirror and grabbed his wand and wallet. "Play it how you need to, Granger, but this is so a date."
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
The Leaky Cauldron
Hermione arrived with a few minutes to spare. Not seeing Draco yet, she headed to the bar and ordered a sparkling water with lemon twist to give her hands something to do while she waited. Just as she brought the glass to her mouth, she felt warmth at her back and heard Draco's greeting, "Granger."
She looked at him through the mirror over the bar and asked, "What would it take for you to call me Hermione?"
"Hmmm. . . maybe a kiss?" he said deliciously close to her ear.
"I thought this wasn't a date, hmm? Maybe a kiss?"
"Um hm," Draco purred.
At this she turned to face him directly. "That makes no sense, Draco Malfoy. We have kissed before and you still call me 'Granger'."
Draco cocked an eyebrow at her and smiled sideways. "Yes, but then you ran away after. So it doesn't count at all, you see."
Hermione huffed in frustration and embarrassment. "Of course, you are right. This one time."
Draco laughed and took the drink out of her hand. "What are you having anyway, Granger?" He grimaced as the water hit his tongue. "Water? Really? Granger, I'm disappointed," he pouted. "Let's go and get something with flavor to drink." He stepped back and motioned her toward the door.
A quick walk in the frosty evening air led them to the door of a little unlabeled restaurant with a red awning and red-and-white gingham curtains in the window. Inside, semi-circular red leather booths lined the walls with a line of white-linen-draped tables down the center. The lighting provided a measure of privacy while allowing patrons to see what they were eating. The atmosphere blended classy and comfortable. Hermione loved it immediately.
The maitre 'd showed them to a corner booth and left them with a wine list and menu. It wasn't until after Draco had ordered their aperitifs that they picked up their conversation.
"Why are we here again if this is not a date, Draco?" Hermione asked.
Draco smiled. "The owner wants to retire. The chef wants to buy him out and renovate but does not have all the capital needed. I like to invest in family, but I also want to ensure I make a good return. The chef is preparing one of his signature creations that would be on the new menu. I couldn't very well come here alone, and as I trust your lead in my other business ventures, I asked you to accompany me. And I do know how you love to offer your opinions."
Hermione's mouth tightened slightly. Draco chuckled, "Oh, Granger, don't take it that way. How else was I supposed to get you to come out with me?"
She wrinkled her nose, hating how transparent she was. Mercifully, a waiter arrived with their cocktails and asked if they wanted to choose their own wines or rely on the recommendations of the chef. With a quick look at Hermione, Draco said, "Our evening is in the chef's capable hands."
With the waiter gone, Draco asked the first question that popped into his head. “So, why did you and Weasley split?
Hermione looked at him like he was daft. “Isn’t that a bad conversation for a first date?”
“Ah, but as you insisted, this is not a date.”
Hermione grimaced and sighed, “Fine,” before taking a drink. “After years of a comfortable, if not passionate, marriage, Ron tells me he’s gay, apologizes for hurting me, and then shacks up with his lover. Happy?”
With a gleam in his eye, Draco leaned forward, “Really? The Weasel is a poufter?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Not a poufter. Just prefers them in his bed. No, Draco,” she continued, “get that look of glee out of your eyes. It’s not funny. . . really.” Her voice broke. She closed her eyes and tried to collect herself.
Draco placed his hand over hers and rearranged his facial expression. “Granger, you’re right. I’m sorry you are hurting.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes and looked at Draco with suspicion. “What was that?”
“What?” Draco asked in all innocence.
Hermione leaned closer to examine his face, her eyes lingering over his. “It is frightening how fast you can switch that on and off.”
Draco was startled. “You saw all that?” He sighed and his countenance shifted again. “Comes in handy to put the mask on and off.”
“As a Malfoy?” Hermione asked with one eyebrow cocked.
“Yeah,” Draco chuckled.
“Which one is the mask then? The devilish Slytherin, the sincere friend, the innocent, or the cynical Malfoy scion?”
Draco shook his head. “Funny thing is, I don’t know anymore. Maybe they all are. Maybe they all hold a bit of truth. If you put stock in such things, you could blame it on the fact I was born under the sign of Gemini,” he shrugged.
Hermione smiled, “Or maybe, as Jung posited, we are all multiple complexes waiting in the subconscious, waiting to express themselves.”
Smirking, Draco teased, “Going to analyze me now, huh, Granger? I hear that’s not polite on a first date.”
“Ah, but as we’ve established, this is not a date,” Hermione laughed.
“Touché.”
Just then the waiter brought their meal and wine to the table. “By the chef’s compliments, he has prepared for you a pork tenderloin layered on sautéed spinach and golden beets topped with an orange sauce and accompanied by truffled cognac macaroni and cheese. We have paired this with a 1999 Trimbach Cuvée des Seigneurs de Ribeaupierre Gewürztraminer. Enjoy your meal.”
For the next several minutes, Hermione and Draco focused on the meal. Their conversation was reduced to low moans of pleasure, hand waving, and short words such as “so good,” “mmmm,” and “god!” Hermione set her fork to the side to pick up her wine glass and asked Draco, “So, you mentioned investing in family earlier. Who is the chef?”
Draco looked up and replied, “Well, he’s coming this way now.”
Hermione’s eyes widen as she identified the young man in white striding to their table. “Teddy?”
“Aunt Hermione?”
Draco smirked and placed his hand over Hermione’s. “Oh, I see you know one another already.”