Chương 21: Breathe
Draco's breath hitched as he watched Hermione on the dance floor, something she'd never do except if she was under the influence (and she was probably under lots of influence, surely, with the alcohol clouding her judgement and having spent time Pansy and Astoria). He'd never seen that much of her creamy long legs (and especially in the fishnets) and it was beginning to drive him nuts. Not to mention the short, short skirt that Pansy had probably forced her into accentuated her waist and slim hips and the shirt dipped into dangerous territory for one Draco Malfoy.
When he really thought about it, though, it wasn't the slender figure she had gained on the run and subsequently maintained. Those were really added bonuses for his eyes. It was her sharp wit, her cutting sarcasm, her love of knowledge that had attracted him to her.
A change in the music distracted him from the depths of his mind, and he growled as he saw another man dancing with a clearly drunk Hermione Granger.
And this was no innocent waltz.
The two Slytherin girls saw, giggled and pulled her away, over to where Draco sat with Blaise and Theodore Nott, a fellow Slytherin who was celebrating a return from a month-long trip to India, and both were watching the whole scene with a rather amused smirk on their faces. Pansy flushed as Theo pulled her by the hips over to the open bar stool next to him.
Astoria had already started chatting to the girl on her left, leaving an empty space between her and Draco Malfoy. Hermione, spurred on by drink, climbed onto the stool. Blaise grinned, and opened up the conversation by handing her a PepperUp. Even drunk, the brunette recognized it, and drank until the vial was empty. Shaking her head as the potion restored her judgement, she nearly jumped as she realized who she was sitting next to.
Her boss.
In a revealing outfit.
At a bar.
Hermione conjured a shawl discreetly and wrapped it artfully around her torso, blushing as she apologized for her attire and location. Draco shut her up.
"It's fine. I'm here too, aren't I?" Hermione chuckled nervously, and he reached out impulsively to tuck a stray curly lock behind her ear. Hermione shivered as the tip of his finger brushed the shell of her ear. Blaise grinned. His mate was head over heels for Hermione Jean Granger.
And
***
"So, Granger, tell me. What's it like working with Draco?" The blonde shook his head, and Hermione grinned at Blaise Zabini. He really had turned over a new leaf; she vaguely remembered in her sixth year when Ginny had stormed into the Gryffindor Common Room, rage in her eyes and a shaky voice, mumbling something about an asshat and Blaise Zabini.
"I mean, some days are great. Easy-breezy, just filing paperwork and sending emails." Blaise furrowed his eyebrows, confused. Hermione continued. "Other days suck. Mostly when we have meetings with other clients. The pure-blooded, supremacist ones."
Blaise shook his head at the mention of that; Draco had written to him about Hermione fainting after a particularly long and stressful day, which had included a meeting with a client named Marsentuago. Blaise had never met the man, but after what had happened was sure he never would. Still puzzled, however, he asked, "What's an email?"
Hermione grinned. "It's like an owl, but it's not physical. It's like a Patronus, you know- you can't touch them but you can see them- and you send it through a Muggle device called a computer."
Draco cut in between his P.A. and his best mate. "Hermione introduced them to the company. Bloody brilliant, they are. You ought to try them out."
Blaise had also opened his own company; it was an apothecary business that owned several acres of land on which a variety of crops grew, in several places around the world. Sending an owl to any one of his properties outside Britain could usually expect to take days, considering that the owl needed to rest so that it didn't just fall out of the sky. Blaise complentated. "I'll look into it. But no one will know how to use it." Draco smirked. "Hermione could teach your whole company in two days. She taught everyone in mine." Blaise's eyebrows shot up.
"Even Peters?" Draco's smirk fell, changing into a scowl. "No, not Peters. Supremacist asshole." He muttered under his breath, but the duo around him caught it. Blaise rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Man's a jerk. Did you fire him yet?"
"Yes, we finally did."
Blaise sighed. "Thank Merlin! I won't ever have to listen to you again complaining about that dickhead." Draco rolled his eyes, but Blaise pointed an accusing finger. "Don't you roll your eyes at me. You come over at least once a week for a round of firewhiskey and the only thing you'd ever talk about was Peters."
Draco rolled his eyes once more, ignoring his friend. "Just ignore him, please. He doesn't know what he's talking about."
"Well neither do you!"
Theo suddenly pushed between the two men, his verdigris eyes replacing Blaise's dark ones. "Both of you, shut up. Pans and I are trying to catch up and all we can hear is your bickering about dumb shit."
Hermione glanced over at Pansy, who was currently on Theo's lap, looking pretty damn sober to Hermione as she laid a hand on his chest, long silver nails contrasting with Theo's dark shirt, as she tried to get him to stop staring daggers at Draco and Blaise. Hermione chuckled to herself.
The two Slytherin men calmed down, and Hermione shook her head in amusement at Pansy's obvious flirting with the dark-haired Slytherin.
Hermione suspected she might have to put up with Pansy's rambling about Theo's adorableness later on.
***
I wait, for what seems like forever, for anything- anything - from Hermione.
It's agony.
After a day or so, I realize she's not going to respond. Anger flashes through me at the fact that I poured out my soul to her and she's not going to bother to respond, and I completely ignore my previous thought that I was lucky to even get a response once.
She could've at least responded one more time.
My anger gets the best of me despite my own attempts to calm myself down, and I go to the bar to get a drink. The alcohol can dull my nerves for me.
I enter the club and it's a whirl of colors from magical light sources (not sure if I want to know where they're from) and the tang of sweaty people. Sitting at the bar, I pass the bartender some money and in return, a bottle of gin and a glass are shoved into my hands as she turns around to serve another customer.
Glancing around, I see a curly-haired brunette sitting with a blonde and another dark-haired girl, along with another blond, a curly-haired man and a dark-skinned person who seems vaguely familiar. I can't see much, since the lights are spinning and blurring their features. Turning my attention back to the curly-haired brunette, I realize she gives off an awfully familiar aura.
Squinting, I realize it's Hermione.
My jaw gapes as I realize what she's wearing. Her long, creamy legs- oh how I remember when they used to wrap around me when we kissed- are clad in fishnets, and her shirt dips into territory I've never even seen. The makeup is astonishing; she never did anything that fancy when we were a couple. The people on either side of her no longer matter; all I can see is rage as my anger comes roaring back, even more potent this time with the added hurt of her leaving me, and my mind devises a (probably dangerous) scheme to make her come back to me.
If she won't take me back, she'll come crawling back to me instead.
***
Astoria grinned, and Hermione chuckled as the two took a sip of their respective drinks as Pansy and Theo left the bar together, leaning on one another and laughing as they headed out onto the dark street.
Laughing at the pair, Hermione's eyes widened as a surge of emotion rushed through her before the floor began to spin and the walls blurred into one long strip of colours and she collapsed onto the floor. Astoria gasped, and Draco immediately rushed to lift her up. She struggled to her feet with a mumbled 'Draco I'm fine' before collapsing again into his arms, nearly fainting. The sight triggering something overly familiar to Draco, he bade goodbye to his friends, concern written on their faces, and turned on the spot, disappearing into thin air.
***
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