Coffee and Commitments - 1/5 - All Ages - Adrian/Hermione
Title: Coffee and Commitments (1/5)
Author: silvernatasha
Rating: All Ages
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: When people and relationships are changing around you, at least the coffee stays the same. Adrian/Hermione.
Word Count: 1927.
Wednesday morning. Get out of bed. Check reflection in mirror. Complexion not bad: mirror needs a bit of a clean. Go to bathroom. Clean teeth. Cleanse, tone, moisturise. Just enough stubble to create a fashionably unkempt look. Perfect. Just need to tweak the hair. Highlights are going to need redoing. A little bit of gel to get the right look.
Which suit? Plain classic black should do the trick. Very slimming. Not that that’s an issue. White shirt. No. Need to top up the tan a bit first. Have to book a session on the sun bed. Pink. Yeah. Pink. That’ll do. Not many men can get away with pink. All the more reason to wear it.
Now for breakfast. Have to watch the waistline. Love handles are not in this season. Skimmed milk on the cereal. Black coffee. Need to be alert.
Adrian flipped through the Daily Prophet, wrinkling his nose as he tried to find some actual news content among the trash. It was obviously a slow news week if they felt they needed to devote half a page to a Z-list celebrity’s cellulite. Still, he conceded, if her legs looked that bad, she really shouldn’t have been wearing a skirt that barely covered her arse. It was her own fault, really.
Sipping his coffee, he glanced up at the clock. The chrome hands were working their way slowly around the face and he had another fifteen minutes before he had to leave for work. Lovely. Just enough time to do the crossword. It was never that difficult, anyway.
Wait. Something was different. Something was off. He looked around the kitchen, trying to decide what it was. The cookery books were still organised by author, the spices were still lined up alphabetically on the rack, so what was it? His eyes widened as he spotted a note pinned to his notice board. It wasn’t perpendicular with everything else, so he certainly hadn’t put it there.
He snatched the note from the board giving a short bark of laughter as he read it. Zabini was going to be hexed for even insinuating such a thing.
Oh, god. Not the alarm. Where’s the switch? Can’t hex another alarm clock. That’s possibly the most annoying sound in the history of the world.
Hermione sighed, pushing her face into the pillow. Getting out of bed for work did not seem like a good idea.
Alarm off. Where are my slippers? Dressing gown. Why the hell do I have a mirror in my bedroom? My hair looks awful. Did I even take my make-up off last night? Need coffee. Strong, black. Lots of coffee.
There was a reason why Hermione didn’t like going out during the week. She’d never been brilliant in the morning after a hard night of drinking, and as last night had been a hen night - the bride-to-be was jetting off to sunny and tropical to get married - not drinking really wasn’t an option.
Hermione tugged on her dressing gown, shoving her feet into her slippers. She groaned as she realised that they were on the wrong feet. Switching them round, Hermione shuffled out to the kitchen, putting the kettle on and fumbling bleary-eyed for a mug.
This time of the morning, instant coffee was her god.
Still, by the time that she got to work, she would be her normal self. Calm and composed and with her hair under some semblance of control. She might not be all that cheery, but at least her hair wouldn’t look like a bird had nested in it. She examined her reflection in a saucepan. Urgh.
Hermione set down the saucepan, really wishing that she hadn’t looked. Maybe it would be for the best if she just banned all reflective surfaces from her home. Yes. That might work. Then again, maybe not.
A fluttering and scratching at the window startled her; an owl was waiting to deliver her newspaper. Hermione frowned, opening the window and disentangling the paper from the bird. It nipped at her finger - whether this was affectionate or aggressive, Hermione wasn’t quite sure - and Hermione glared at it, not in the mood to deal with any animals this time of the morning.
Animals. Crookshanks. Where was he? Stupid cat thing. Hermione filled his bowl with food. No doubt, he’d appear when he was hungry.
Mug of coffee finally in hand, Hermione sank down onto a chair. Now for the next big dilemma. What to wear?
“So what’s this, then?” Adrian dropped the piece of parchment on the table. Blaise Zabini looked up from his coffee, and then removed his dark glasses, putting them down on top of the note. He smirked at the other wizard, taking a delicate sip of his coffee. “The truth?”
Adrian wrinkled his nose, taking a seat. Thankfully, the coffee shop wasn’t too busy. “You’re a lawyer, Zabini. Do you even know what the truth is?”
Blaise shrugged. “I heard about it once. From a friend of a friend.” He raised his eyebrows. “So?”
“So what?” Adrian smiled at the waitress as she approached. “Latte, please. And one of those Danish pastries, pet. Thanks.” He winked at her, watching with amusement as a blush rose on her cheeks. He really couldn’t help it that he was a handsome devil.
“You and Hermione.”
“Hermione?” Adrian snagged Blaise’s packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket. After all the paperwork he’d done this morning he was in desperate need of a nicotine fix.
“Granger.”
“Ah. Her. What about her?”
“You were staring at her all last night. Practically drooling.”
“That was just the effect of the vodka. There’s not exactly anything to drool over.”
Blaise set down his coffee cup, smirking. “I don’t know. Her tits are quite nice. I suppose her face isn’t that bad either. Also, your eyes just went all glassy when she walked in the door.” He swivelled in his chair to look at Hermione, who was standing at the counter, ordering something to take away. “Nice arse,” he remarked.
Adrian craned his neck to look. “I suppose. If you ignore the personality.”
“I don’t know. I like a bit of a wildcat. Bet she shags like a minx.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re marrying that Weasley bird.”
“I’m not marrying her.” Blaise gave a sniff of disdain. “She hasn’t said ‘yes’ yet.”
With a guffaw, Adrian grinned at the waitress as she brought over his coffee. “Thanks, pet. You’ve just got a thing for prissy Gryffindors.”
“And you’re still looking at Granger’s arse.” The door swung shut as Hermione exited with her coffee in hand. “I could probably put in a good word for you if you want.”
“Any why would I want that?”
“Because you so clearly want to get into her knickers.” Carefully moving his glasses, Blaise pushed the note back towards his friend. You want to get into the Gryffindor’s knickers, it read.
“Bollocks.”
“The only bollocks you’re thinking about are your own.” Blaise sipped his coffee. “If you want to shag her, go on. Isn’t going to do any harm to your reputation, is it?”
“You look hung over.”
Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Funny that.”
“Do you need coffee?” Ginny temptingly waved a mug at Hermione. It would have been so easy to accept and just sink back into her office with a large cup of caffeine. Maybe there was a spell to pump it directly into her veins.
Hermione resisted temptation, though. “I think I’ll go out and get one. Hopefully the fresh air will do me good.” She pulled on her cloak. “Remind me not to go out when I have to work the next day.”
“You keep saying that. And you never listen to me. Besides,” Ginny said with a grin, “we’ll have to go out to celebrate my engagement.”
Smiling, Hermione picked up her handbag. “You’re finally going to say ‘yes’, then? Put the poor man out of his misery?”
Ginny nodded. “Yes. I’m thinking about tying him to the bed first and torturing him for just a little longer before I finally do it, though.”
“Kinky bastard,” Hermione remarked.
Ginny gave a dreamy sigh. “My kinky bastard.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and bade her goodbye. Outside, the cold air was rather bracing and Hermione stood for a moment, adjusting to the change in temperature. Tugging her scarf tighter around her neck, she set off down Diagon Alley, sidestepping around a puddle.
Arriving outside the coffee shop, Hermione froze, and not from the cold weather. Adrian Pucey. And Blaise. Blaise wasn’t a problem, though, as he didn’t stare blankly at her. She could deal quite easily with Blaise’s attitude, but Adrian’s cool blue gaze made her shiver, and not in a way that she liked.
Right. Go in this shop or walk further down the street to that other place. Slightly more expensive and not-so-good coffee or strange stalker-type staring.
Hermione shivered. It was freezing cold and her toes were starting to go numb. Strange stalker-type staring it was.
Steeling herself, Hermione pushed the door open, deliberately not looking at Adrian and Blaise’s table. She supposed it was a little rude not to even acknowledge Blaise, especially as he rated somewhere between acquaintance and friend, but she really couldn’t deal with Adrian when she was still suffering the effects of the night before.
As she ordered her coffee, Hermione was positive that someone was watching her. She resisted the urge to tap her foot, wanting to get back to her office as soon as possible: the faster she could retreat to the safety of her office, the better.
When Hermione left the shop, she glanced back at the window. Adrian and Blaise were in conversation, a customary smirk on Blaise’s lips. Hermione shook her head. Ginny was clearly crazy.
“So. It looks like congratulations are finally in order.”
Blaise raised his eyebrows. “Don’t sound so surprised, Granger. Everyone knew she’d see sense eventually.” He surveyed the witch in front of him. She wasn’t the most stunning woman in the room - that was Ginny, obviously - but she certainly had her charms. Pucey could do a lot worse.
“I’m still waiting for her to see sense,” Hermione teased. After Ginny had accepted his proposal, Blaise had wasted no time in organising a rather lavish party to celebrate. “Can you tell Ginny that if she tries to get me to wear a peach dress for the wedding I will hex her?” Ginny, on the other hand, had wasted no time in organising her bridesmaids.
“Why don’t you tell her yourself?”
Hermione shrugged. “I think she’ll be more likely to listen to you. For reasons I can’t quite understand, she thinks the world of you.” Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the twins exchanging conspiratorial whispers, which never boded well at events like this.
Blaise smirked. “What can I say? It must be my Slytherin charm.” He took a sip of his champagne. “You should really go and get yourself a Slytherin, Granger. We make excellent company.”
“You make Slytherins sound like pets.”
He smiled at her, which made Hermione feel a little uneasily. “Whatever gets you going.” Blaise glanced around the room. Seeing Ginny, he said, “I’m going to go and save my fiancée from my mother. Here, Pucey. Come and keep this lovely young lady company, will you?”
Blaise grabbed Adrian by the elbow, pulling him over. He patted him on the arm, smirking again.
“Make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.”
One - Two - Three - Four - Five
Author: silvernatasha
Rating: All Ages
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: When people and relationships are changing around you, at least the coffee stays the same. Adrian/Hermione.
Word Count: 1927.
Wednesday morning. Get out of bed. Check reflection in mirror. Complexion not bad: mirror needs a bit of a clean. Go to bathroom. Clean teeth. Cleanse, tone, moisturise. Just enough stubble to create a fashionably unkempt look. Perfect. Just need to tweak the hair. Highlights are going to need redoing. A little bit of gel to get the right look.
Which suit? Plain classic black should do the trick. Very slimming. Not that that’s an issue. White shirt. No. Need to top up the tan a bit first. Have to book a session on the sun bed. Pink. Yeah. Pink. That’ll do. Not many men can get away with pink. All the more reason to wear it.
Now for breakfast. Have to watch the waistline. Love handles are not in this season. Skimmed milk on the cereal. Black coffee. Need to be alert.
Adrian flipped through the Daily Prophet, wrinkling his nose as he tried to find some actual news content among the trash. It was obviously a slow news week if they felt they needed to devote half a page to a Z-list celebrity’s cellulite. Still, he conceded, if her legs looked that bad, she really shouldn’t have been wearing a skirt that barely covered her arse. It was her own fault, really.
Sipping his coffee, he glanced up at the clock. The chrome hands were working their way slowly around the face and he had another fifteen minutes before he had to leave for work. Lovely. Just enough time to do the crossword. It was never that difficult, anyway.
Wait. Something was different. Something was off. He looked around the kitchen, trying to decide what it was. The cookery books were still organised by author, the spices were still lined up alphabetically on the rack, so what was it? His eyes widened as he spotted a note pinned to his notice board. It wasn’t perpendicular with everything else, so he certainly hadn’t put it there.
He snatched the note from the board giving a short bark of laughter as he read it. Zabini was going to be hexed for even insinuating such a thing.
Oh, god. Not the alarm. Where’s the switch? Can’t hex another alarm clock. That’s possibly the most annoying sound in the history of the world.
Hermione sighed, pushing her face into the pillow. Getting out of bed for work did not seem like a good idea.
Alarm off. Where are my slippers? Dressing gown. Why the hell do I have a mirror in my bedroom? My hair looks awful. Did I even take my make-up off last night? Need coffee. Strong, black. Lots of coffee.
There was a reason why Hermione didn’t like going out during the week. She’d never been brilliant in the morning after a hard night of drinking, and as last night had been a hen night - the bride-to-be was jetting off to sunny and tropical to get married - not drinking really wasn’t an option.
Hermione tugged on her dressing gown, shoving her feet into her slippers. She groaned as she realised that they were on the wrong feet. Switching them round, Hermione shuffled out to the kitchen, putting the kettle on and fumbling bleary-eyed for a mug.
This time of the morning, instant coffee was her god.
Still, by the time that she got to work, she would be her normal self. Calm and composed and with her hair under some semblance of control. She might not be all that cheery, but at least her hair wouldn’t look like a bird had nested in it. She examined her reflection in a saucepan. Urgh.
Hermione set down the saucepan, really wishing that she hadn’t looked. Maybe it would be for the best if she just banned all reflective surfaces from her home. Yes. That might work. Then again, maybe not.
A fluttering and scratching at the window startled her; an owl was waiting to deliver her newspaper. Hermione frowned, opening the window and disentangling the paper from the bird. It nipped at her finger - whether this was affectionate or aggressive, Hermione wasn’t quite sure - and Hermione glared at it, not in the mood to deal with any animals this time of the morning.
Animals. Crookshanks. Where was he? Stupid cat thing. Hermione filled his bowl with food. No doubt, he’d appear when he was hungry.
Mug of coffee finally in hand, Hermione sank down onto a chair. Now for the next big dilemma. What to wear?
“So what’s this, then?” Adrian dropped the piece of parchment on the table. Blaise Zabini looked up from his coffee, and then removed his dark glasses, putting them down on top of the note. He smirked at the other wizard, taking a delicate sip of his coffee. “The truth?”
Adrian wrinkled his nose, taking a seat. Thankfully, the coffee shop wasn’t too busy. “You’re a lawyer, Zabini. Do you even know what the truth is?”
Blaise shrugged. “I heard about it once. From a friend of a friend.” He raised his eyebrows. “So?”
“So what?” Adrian smiled at the waitress as she approached. “Latte, please. And one of those Danish pastries, pet. Thanks.” He winked at her, watching with amusement as a blush rose on her cheeks. He really couldn’t help it that he was a handsome devil.
“You and Hermione.”
“Hermione?” Adrian snagged Blaise’s packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket. After all the paperwork he’d done this morning he was in desperate need of a nicotine fix.
“Granger.”
“Ah. Her. What about her?”
“You were staring at her all last night. Practically drooling.”
“That was just the effect of the vodka. There’s not exactly anything to drool over.”
Blaise set down his coffee cup, smirking. “I don’t know. Her tits are quite nice. I suppose her face isn’t that bad either. Also, your eyes just went all glassy when she walked in the door.” He swivelled in his chair to look at Hermione, who was standing at the counter, ordering something to take away. “Nice arse,” he remarked.
Adrian craned his neck to look. “I suppose. If you ignore the personality.”
“I don’t know. I like a bit of a wildcat. Bet she shags like a minx.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re marrying that Weasley bird.”
“I’m not marrying her.” Blaise gave a sniff of disdain. “She hasn’t said ‘yes’ yet.”
With a guffaw, Adrian grinned at the waitress as she brought over his coffee. “Thanks, pet. You’ve just got a thing for prissy Gryffindors.”
“And you’re still looking at Granger’s arse.” The door swung shut as Hermione exited with her coffee in hand. “I could probably put in a good word for you if you want.”
“Any why would I want that?”
“Because you so clearly want to get into her knickers.” Carefully moving his glasses, Blaise pushed the note back towards his friend. You want to get into the Gryffindor’s knickers, it read.
“Bollocks.”
“The only bollocks you’re thinking about are your own.” Blaise sipped his coffee. “If you want to shag her, go on. Isn’t going to do any harm to your reputation, is it?”
“You look hung over.”
Hermione raised her eyebrows. “Funny that.”
“Do you need coffee?” Ginny temptingly waved a mug at Hermione. It would have been so easy to accept and just sink back into her office with a large cup of caffeine. Maybe there was a spell to pump it directly into her veins.
Hermione resisted temptation, though. “I think I’ll go out and get one. Hopefully the fresh air will do me good.” She pulled on her cloak. “Remind me not to go out when I have to work the next day.”
“You keep saying that. And you never listen to me. Besides,” Ginny said with a grin, “we’ll have to go out to celebrate my engagement.”
Smiling, Hermione picked up her handbag. “You’re finally going to say ‘yes’, then? Put the poor man out of his misery?”
Ginny nodded. “Yes. I’m thinking about tying him to the bed first and torturing him for just a little longer before I finally do it, though.”
“Kinky bastard,” Hermione remarked.
Ginny gave a dreamy sigh. “My kinky bastard.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and bade her goodbye. Outside, the cold air was rather bracing and Hermione stood for a moment, adjusting to the change in temperature. Tugging her scarf tighter around her neck, she set off down Diagon Alley, sidestepping around a puddle.
Arriving outside the coffee shop, Hermione froze, and not from the cold weather. Adrian Pucey. And Blaise. Blaise wasn’t a problem, though, as he didn’t stare blankly at her. She could deal quite easily with Blaise’s attitude, but Adrian’s cool blue gaze made her shiver, and not in a way that she liked.
Right. Go in this shop or walk further down the street to that other place. Slightly more expensive and not-so-good coffee or strange stalker-type staring.
Hermione shivered. It was freezing cold and her toes were starting to go numb. Strange stalker-type staring it was.
Steeling herself, Hermione pushed the door open, deliberately not looking at Adrian and Blaise’s table. She supposed it was a little rude not to even acknowledge Blaise, especially as he rated somewhere between acquaintance and friend, but she really couldn’t deal with Adrian when she was still suffering the effects of the night before.
As she ordered her coffee, Hermione was positive that someone was watching her. She resisted the urge to tap her foot, wanting to get back to her office as soon as possible: the faster she could retreat to the safety of her office, the better.
When Hermione left the shop, she glanced back at the window. Adrian and Blaise were in conversation, a customary smirk on Blaise’s lips. Hermione shook her head. Ginny was clearly crazy.
“So. It looks like congratulations are finally in order.”
Blaise raised his eyebrows. “Don’t sound so surprised, Granger. Everyone knew she’d see sense eventually.” He surveyed the witch in front of him. She wasn’t the most stunning woman in the room - that was Ginny, obviously - but she certainly had her charms. Pucey could do a lot worse.
“I’m still waiting for her to see sense,” Hermione teased. After Ginny had accepted his proposal, Blaise had wasted no time in organising a rather lavish party to celebrate. “Can you tell Ginny that if she tries to get me to wear a peach dress for the wedding I will hex her?” Ginny, on the other hand, had wasted no time in organising her bridesmaids.
“Why don’t you tell her yourself?”
Hermione shrugged. “I think she’ll be more likely to listen to you. For reasons I can’t quite understand, she thinks the world of you.” Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the twins exchanging conspiratorial whispers, which never boded well at events like this.
Blaise smirked. “What can I say? It must be my Slytherin charm.” He took a sip of his champagne. “You should really go and get yourself a Slytherin, Granger. We make excellent company.”
“You make Slytherins sound like pets.”
He smiled at her, which made Hermione feel a little uneasily. “Whatever gets you going.” Blaise glanced around the room. Seeing Ginny, he said, “I’m going to go and save my fiancée from my mother. Here, Pucey. Come and keep this lovely young lady company, will you?”
Blaise grabbed Adrian by the elbow, pulling him over. He patted him on the arm, smirking again.
“Make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble.”
One - Two - Three - Four - Five