Chapter Text
August 17, 1998
Hermione entered the kitchen at Grimmauld Place with her head down, finishing the list of things she wanted to get done today. Most of it was focused on making all the rooms in the house comfortable and homey - or barring that, at least making them habitable.
“Well you’re up early.”
Hermione’s head swiftly came up, and her steps faltered. She hadn’t thought anyone else was home. Ginny looked away as Hermione shook her head and took her hand off the wand tucked into her waistband. Three months was not long enough for her body to forget they were no longer at war.
“Oh, morning Gin. Want a cup of tea? I was just about to make one.” She forced extra cheerfulness into her voice - she hated when Ginny worried.
“No thanks. Harry has me turned on to coffee now.” Ginny raised the mug she was holding in two hands, and Hermione nodded and started to make her own morning beverage.
“So what are you doing home? I thought you had practice today.”
Ginny began explaining the Harpies’ schedule; Ginny didn’t have to attend most practices since she was only an early recruit for next year’s team.
The two women had always been friendly at Hogwarts, but ever since they both moved into Grimmauld Place with Harry they had become very close. Hermione occupied a bedroom on the second floor while Harry and Ginny had free reign over the entire third floor of the house. They all shared the ground floor with the kitchen and living rooms. A few people had come to stay for a few days or weeks on the second floor with her - George, Dean, Andromeda with Teddy, and even Ron - but they’d all moved on to more permanent living situations. And with Harry and Ron throwing themselves into Auror training, the two women had naturally gravitated toward each other.
And, as it turned out, the two were perfect foils for each other. Hermione was treating Grimmauld Place like her personal homework assignment - spending most of her time not just going through artifacts and wards to sort out the dark magic, but then transforming each room into a cozy space with new wallpaper and furnishings. Bit by bit the house was becoming a home.
Ginny was the only person who ignored her complaints, took her outside, and made her interact with people. She’d even managed to get Hermione into a club or two last month, and as much as she was loath to admit it, Hermione knew those outings did her a world of good.
They made her start to live again, without memories of the war pressing in too close.
In turn, Hermione had helped Ginny reconnect with her mum. When Ginny announced mere days after the battle that she was moving in with Harry, the two Weasley women had a very loud and very public fight. Harry was ready to give in entirely to Mrs. Weasley’s demands that Ginny live at home at least until graduation, but Ginny angrily apparated herself and Harry away and would not see her mum for days.
Hermione was the one to guilt Ginny into talking with her mum, and she moderated their discussion so neither fiery woman could alienate the other. It had naturally ended with the three crying and hugging…and with Mrs. Weasley convincing herself that Ginny was really sharing a room with Hermione, anyway.
Hermione poured herself some tea as Ginny began saying that she was going to spend her free morning over at the shop with the twins; the shop had only just reopened the previous week. Once Fred had recovered after a month-long stay at St. Mungo’s, the twins had moved full steam ahead with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
“Say hi to them for me. See you and Harry at dinner? I’m heading upstairs to keep working through the library. It’s taking longer than I thought to find all the dark books some lovely Blacks left behind,” Hermione said, tea in hand and heading for the door
“Sounds like a blast,” Ginny said sarcastically. “After dinner Fred, George and Angelina, and Ron should be coming over. And you’re not bailing early like last time - you and I both know that you don’t go to sleep at 9.” She gave her friend a pointed look, and Hermione knew she had no chance of ducking the event.
She paused in the doorway and threw her friend a grateful smile and a nod over her shoulder before getting on with her self-inflicted chores.
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A few days later Hermione found herself sitting in the living room of the Burrow, stomach already full and with a piece of pie in her hand. “Ugh, I can’t finish this. Here.” She shoved the plate toward the redhead sitting on the floor by her feet and he accepted it without complaint, his empty plate already discarded next to him.
“Tanks Ermynee!” He said through a bulging mouthful.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” She laughed and pushed at his shoulder.
“It’s a wonder the Aurors don’t fire you straight away for bad table manners,” Ginny was quick to jump in. She and Ginny were seated together on the small couch while Harry and Ron lounged on the floor in front of them.
“How is training going for you two anyway?” Hermione asked.
“Alright,” Ron shrugged before going in for another bite.
“Actually,” Harry said. “Gregor was telling Ron today that he’s going to put him in the Strategic Division.”
“Ron, that's great!”
He shrugged again. “I guess. But my scores on the written stuff have been rubbish.”
Harry jumped in again, “Stop being so hard on yourself. None of us do great on those and Gregor was even complaining the other day that no one ever does well on all those tests. I think it’s because we are all just too good at the practical stuff, we couldn’t be bothered.”
He smirked at Hermione and sure enough, she took the bait. “You shouldn’t be slacking off on those tests Harry! There’s a lot of really important information that you’ll need to know to properly be an Auror. Just because you have a quick wand doesn’t mean you don’t have to study.”
“It’s not that quick of a wand,” Ginny murmured. Both boys laughed at the innuendo while Hermione shot her a glare. Ginny just winked back.
“Speaking of wands,” Harry said, “I forgot to ask you earlier, Gin, can we do a double date with Ron and Julie this Friday?”
The couple devolved into a back and forth about their schedules for the week, and Hermione caught Ron shooting her a few not-so-subtle calculating glances.
The two were still occasionally awkward around one another after their first (and last) kiss during the final battle. After being so caught up in the battle and their…their losses from the day, the two had not had a moment alone together for over three days. And when they finally did find each other, well, it came down to the fact that neither of them had thought to find the other in those three days.
Sure, they’d been with the Weasleys or their classmates or other Order members, collectively mourning and trying to rally. But they’d never thought to seek the other out, either to give or receive comfort. And after a long hug, they’d parted as the best friends they were always meant to be.
“How are things with Julie?” Hermione asked him, smiling and refusing to let an awkward silence fall.
“Pretty good I think. It’s only been a couple weeks, but I want to get meeting Harry out of the way.” He was still a bit shook up by the first date he went on in the beginning of the summer - he’d had a great time, only to find out the next day that she was just trying to meet the Boy Who Lived.
“I’m sure it’ll go fine. George only has nice things to say about her once you leave the room.” Julie was actually from the twins’ year at Hogwarts, and George had said she was a sweet, quiet Hufflepuff, as well as a feisty Beater on the Quidditch team.
“Yeah I hope so,” Ron said. The four then lapsed into a comfortable silence, the kind fueled by full stomachs, a warm fire, and years of friendship.
The peace was inevitably broken by the rest of the Weasleys tumbling in from outside, all laughing and slightly damp, apparently having got caught in a thunderstorm a moment ago.
Hermione laughed at the scene and got up to go into the kitchen. Warm cups of tea or cocoa seemed like just the trick.
.
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“Bye Angelina, see you Wednesday for dinner at the Burrow?”
“Wouldn’t miss it!” She called as she bounced out of the Leaky Cauldron.
Hermione watched the older girl turn left out of the building before she disappeared from sight. “I’m so glad she’s been coming to dinners with George. I don’t know what he would have done that first month without her.”
She and Ginny were out for lunch having just finished shopping for school supplies. Angelina had spotted them on her way to Diagon Alley and crashed the end of their lunch.
“Yeah, plus Mum loves having her around. Did you see Angelina’s face last week after dinner? Mum was trying to drag her away to listen to her favorite Warbeck albums, and I swear Ang looked like she just swallowed a flobberworm.”
“Yes! Oh that was too funny, and of course Fred and George were just laughing at her behind your mum’s back. I was actually going to help her…until I realized I’d never made good on my promise to listen to that wretched music. I decided to stay out of it.”
They laughed and collected their purchases, debating all the ways Molly would try to push herself onto Angelina - like Warbeck music, properly folding cloaks, and just the right way to make a pot roast.
Most of the purchases they shrunk down to be easier to carry, but Hermione always refused to shrink her potion’s supplies and her food for Crookshanks. She was trying to convince Ginny yet again that food and especially potion ingredients should not be modified - after all, if you have to shrink or enlarge things for some potions then that must affect its properties somehow - as they exited the Leaky Cauldron for muggle London.
She huffed in exasperation since Ginny was pretending not to hear her at this point. “Just wait and see, Ginny Weasley, I’m asking Professor Slughorn about this as soon as we get to Hogwarts!” She rounded the corner and promptly ran into someone’s hard chest, knocking all of her supplies to the ground. Not even bothering to look up, Hermione immediately dropped to the ground, grabbing at her supplies. She really didn’t want to deal with a muggle asking her why she had goat brain or what lacewigs were.
“So sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going. I hope I didn’t hurt you. Sorry! Ginny will you get down here and help. Oh no!” She moved to grab a container the man was reaching for. “I don’t need any help!”
The man’s hand quickly retreated from view but she saw his feet remain just in front of her. Cursing under her breath, she and Ginny got the last of her supplies stowed away. She couldn’t stop herself from nervously chattering the whole time.
“Really, I just wasn’t watching where I was going and -”
Her rambling cut off abruptly. She had not unceremoniously crashed into an unsuspecting muggle, but into Draco Malfoy. Of all people.
“Malfoy.” Ginny nodded to the man while Hermione could only manage enough concentration to not gape like a fish.
“Wea…Ginny.” Both girls raised their eyebrows at his use of her first name.
“Hermione.” He said, turning to her, this time actually causing her to gape at the man.
“Malf…Dra…what are you doing here?” She blurted, clamping her mouth shut to stop herself from nervously rambling.
“Heading for Diagon Alley.” He said it casually, like it was totally normal to be chatting with her in the street. Or chatting with her anywhere.
“But…but this is a muggle street.”
“Yes it is. Well spotted.” She merely stared at him, waiting for him to scowl or sneer or...or something. Instead he just steadily met her gaze. She noticed his eyes were a light gray color. Had she ever seen gray eyes before? They were really almost silver.
Ginny finally said, “Hermione, we'd better get going.” And she tugged on her friend’s arm for good measure.
At that Malfoy looked away and stepped to the side. “Sorry for running into you,” he said before walking past them, keeping his distance with his hands in his pockets.
“It’s fine,” she said lamely. She’d been shocked into silence by seeing Malfoy. She was even more surprised when she realized they were on a muggle street. And when he’d been almost, kind? Civil at the least. Well, that left her dazed.
She’d been able to meet his eyes for what was likely the first time - usually Harry and Ron were too busy taunting him or vice versa to confront him herself. She didn’t know what to make of it, or of the fact that she’d been unable to break his gaze, and she absentmindedly watched him turn the corner.
“Oi! Stop checking out Malfoy’s arse and let’s get going, you promised me a pair of those muggle jeans before we head off to Hogwarts next week.” Ginny called, heading off down the road. Hermione spun around with a protest on her lips, face turning red despite the fact that that was certainly not true. But Ginny just shot her a cheeky grin over her shoulder.
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Another drink slid in front of Hermione and she looked at it with confusion. Had she ordered another drink? No. No way, she knew she should stop. And besides - this one was smaller and silvery. Not colorful. Damn it, this was no tequila sunrise and she did not care for any other muggle liquor.
She swung her head to the right to glare at whoever gave it to her and found herself face to face with a grinning Harry. “C’mon, last shot!” He shouted at her over the music pumping from the speaker overhead. She got a faceful of his breath and pulled back - he may have had more to drink than her. Godric, hopefully someone was fairly sober. Goodness knows she wasn’t - Ginny had insisted they go out since it was one of their last nights before going back to Hogwarts. And even though Harry and Ron were not returning with them, Ginny decided they could come along too.
She shook her head at Harry and he just kept grinning at her before downing his own shot. He turned around to lean back on their table and she saw his face soften. He was still grinning like an idiot but his eyes were slightly more hooded and he tilted his head to the side. Hermione shook her head at his puppy dog look. “Just go dance! She doesn’t care that you have two left feet.”
Harry looked over at her and stared at her, taking a minute to process her words, before pushing off the table and finally going to join his girlfriend who was dancing with her hands in the air in the middle of the dance floor, red hair fanning around her like an inferno that couldn’t be tamed. Ron was on the edge of the floor - trying to skirt around everyone in the crowd but whooping and yelling along with a few songs and even dancing a bit.
She loved being out with her friends like this. They had made sure to hit a muggle bar to avoid any publicity - it had been perfect to sit around, having drinks, and shouting to each other over the music. Ginny was the first to get up and insist on dancing, and she had even gotten Hermione out on the floor for a few dances. But dancing had never been her strong suit, and after returning to the table she only saw Ginny when she came back to take a shot to recharge. Ron waited until he heard one of the songs he actually knew and then he was up and dancing.
Hermione shook her head at the chaos and turned back around. She was surprised to see the shot still in front of her. She stared down into the glass, trying to think of what shot it could be. But the only thing that came to mind was that the silver matched Draco Malfoy’s eyes. And what a crazy thought that was! But as soon as it popped up she thought about watching him on a dance floor. Seeing his tall, lithe body weaving around the masses and moving to the rhythm of the music. Hips swaying. Eyes flashing. And hands reaching out for her…
Hermione downed the shot to chase the image away. Gods, she must be getting desperate. Why else would she be having a fantasy in the middle of a bar about Draco? No, about Malfoy .
She went to use the loo - they’d be heading home soon, and since they couldn’t apparate from here it'd be a longer trip home. But with unsteady feet she ended up bumping into a few people on her walk over. One such unlucky gentleman was kind enough to catch her arm before she bumped into a table.
“Alright?” He shouted at her. She looked up into the man’s face. Blonde hair fell across his forehead and for a second, just a second, she thought it was Draco. And she smiled. But no - the hair was darker than Draco’s and the eyes were a disappointing blue.
Having seen the smile that brightened her face the man, she decided to call him Not-Draco, leaned in closer. “I saw you dancing out there - you looked amazing.”
She opened her mouth to correct him as she had not been on the dance floor recently - but she heard Ginny’s voice from earlier. Let loose a little tonight. You’re young and you’re single - get a little crazy before we have to go back to the monotony of school!
So instead she said, “Awww, thanks.”
“Can I buy you a drink?” He winked at her, and she couldn’t help but flush with excitement. She did not get flirted with by perfectly handsome strangers very often. Or ever.
“Oh, uh, sure,” she said. She sipped her drink when it came and Not-Draco kept leaning in closer to talk with her, and he even put his hand on her thigh for a minute.
But even drunk she didn’t want to chat with this guy, and she was too self-conscious to just start making out with him in a room packed with people. She tried to think like Ginny.
“So,” she said, ignoring the slight slur in her voice and throwing one arm up onto Not-Draco’s shoulder like she’d seen Ginny do to Harry a few hours ago. “I have a secret I need to tell you.”
“Oh yeah?” He grinned and leaned down.
“Uh-uh. Not here, though. Follow me!” She bounced away, well she hoped it looked like a bounce and not a deranged skip. Then she felt his hand slide into hers and she knew she had him.
“It’s right in here…” she said, pushing open the door to the girls’ bathroom.
“Ummmm….” Not-Draco said, hesitating.
“Wait wait. Come in here…” she coaxed, leading him into the larger of the two stalls. “See, here’s the secret.” Proud of herself for barely slurring that time, she slid the lock shut on the stall door and turned to grin triumphantly up at the man. “It locks.”
“It locks.” He repeated, grinning, and, quicker than she anticipated, he smoothly slid his hands into her back pockets and met her halfway as their lips crashed together. She felt him grip her ass, pulling her hips forward to meet his as they began to grind into each other. Their tongues were fighting for control, pushing and pulling, and when he nipped her lower lip she let out a little whimper and let him win.
His hair was nice, well maybe a little too long, as she grabbed a handful at the base of his neck. She let her other hand roam down the column of his throat and down to his chest. She was only a little disappointed at the lack of definition she would expect from a Quidditch player. Then again, Not-Draco was no quidditch player. But when he shifted to the side and slotted his left leg in between hers she decided she didn’t care. She had to suppress a moan.
She threw both of her arms around his neck to pull their bodies flush together. His hand was grabbing her waist, hard but not hard enough, while the other began to creep under her shirt. She felt the warmth of his hand on her bare stomach and she flushed, gasping into his mouth at the simple contact. The alcohol was singing through her veins and she wanted more. More contact, more skin, more something .
He released her mouth as she started to unbutton his shirt. His mouth went straight for the side of her neck, and she whimpered when he sucked at the sensitive skin. His hand was finally cupping her breast, and she yanked at the third button on his shirt, desperate to get more.
Then she felt hammering on the stall door she was pressed against. “Hermione! Time to go!”
Hermione let out a groan of pure frustration. She knew Ginny’s tone - the witch knew full well what she was up to. Merlin’s left bullock she was going to kill her.
“Ummm, is that for you?” Not-Draco asked. Hermione winced, realizing he didn’t even know her name.
“Yeah.” She tried to pat her hair back into place, not that it was exactly behaving before, and clumsily straightened her shirt.
She opened the stall door, giving Ginny her best withering stare while the redhead had the audacity to wink at her.
“Lovely to meet you,” Ginny called, hauling Hermione away. Once outside of the bathroom Ginny fell into a fit of giggles that didn’t stop until they got to their table, where Harry and Ron were waiting. When the boys asked what she was laughing about, Hermione could only glare and Ginny would just laugh harder.