Flowers That are Looked At

"Does this look alright?"

Padma was turning every which way, trying to examine the dress she'd decided to wear that night. She and Hermione had received formal invitations via owl to what was being described as a "black tie affair" to celebrate some sort of promotion for a good friend of Hermione's, Nymphadora Tonks. The invitation hadn't said anything specifically about why Tonks was being promoted or to what she was being promoted, but simply that she was being promoted. Hermione was, at first, reluctant to go, as she had nothing fancy to wear and the term was really beginning to pick up. Padma, however, had insisted. She and Hermione had gone from shop to shop, Muggle or Magic, searching for a gown for Hermione as an early birthday present, as the "black tie affair" was being held just days prior to Hermione's birthday. Hermione had dressed hours ago in the deep green dress they'd found, and Padma had just finished putting on a flared black dress.

"It looks fine, Padma, really," Hermione promised, looking in the mirror one more time to check her makeup. "You pull that off much better than I ever could."

Padma almost seemed to be blushing, but she simply nodded and said, "Well, we'd best be off, then. This thing starts in half an hour and it takes us forty-five minutes to get there."

"It's that late already?" Hermione gasped, looking at the clock on Padma's dresser. "Shoot. Let's go."

Hermione was already out the door and halfway down the hall as Padma came careening out of the room, trying to put her hair into a high twist of sorts, her mouth filled with bobby pins and her wand in her hand. "Hermione!" she called. "Slow down! We can get there late!"

It took some convincing, but Hermione finally did turn around and help Padma put her hair into the twist, agreeing that they could arrive fashionably late this once. Padma was grateful and, two looks in the mirror later, they headed out the door again, noticeably more put together.

"Do you think Ron will be there?" Padma asked breathlessly as the girls hurried down the hall. Hermione glanced sideways at her friend.

"I hadn't even thought of that," she admitted, not slowing her pace. "I suppose he will be. He knows Tonks as well as I do."

"Are you nervous about that?" The girls had reached the staircase, and Hermione was rushing down, her dress swishing. Padma was walking down the steps a bit more slowly.

"Oh this is silly!" Hermione exclaimed, suddenly stopping in her tracks.

"What? I'm sorry! I won't ask about Ron anymore!" Padma exclaimed.

"Not that!" Hermione answered. "But aren't we witches? Couldn't we just Apparate?"

Either Hermione's imagination was playing tricks on her or Padma suddenly looked nervous. "Do you really think we should? I mean...well, people might be sleeping; the noise might wake them. And besides that, neither of us brought our wands..."

Hermione opened her handbag and pulled out her new wand, twirling it in the air and smiling sweetly. "No one is going to be asleep yet, Padma. It's only half six in the evening." Her grin grew wider. "So there's no reason we shouldn't Apparate!"

"There is every reason we shouldn't Apparate!" Padma replied, her voice growing more shrill and nervous by the second. "Hermione..." And she clamped her mouth shut.

Hermione was giggling uncontrollably. "Remind me to never perform the Fidelius charm with you as my Secret-Keeper, Padma. No offense, of course," she teased, winking. "This party isn't really for Tonks, is it?"

Padma was still pressing her lips together tightly as Hermione questioned her and finally opened them slightly enough to whisper, "I promised I wouldn't say anything, and I won't." Hermione laughed grandly and gave Padma a hug from the side.

"And I won't make you. Come on; let's get to this party that isn't for Tonks," she proposed with a wide grin, linking arms with Padma and leading her down the stairs.

"I never said that it wasn't!" Padma protested.

***

The party was slated to happen in one of the sweeping dance halls that apparently existed under the streets of Oxford. Invisible and unplottable, the halls could only be discovered by Muggles if they were being escorted by a witch or wizard. As it was, witches and wizards could only find the halls if they knew the correct code. The code would be spoken to one of five separate trees, and, if correct, would cause the doorway and steps to the dance hall to appear. Padma, who seemed to know far more about this party than Hermione, had led the way to a tree on High Street, just outside the grounds of the Bodleian Library. She observed the tree for a moment then took her wand from her handbag and tapped one branch three times, a second four, and a third two. Hermione stared at Padma as the doorway materialized in front of them.

"I thought you'd left your wand at home," she commented mildly. Padma was fumbling with her handbag and putting the wand away. She shrugged.

"I lied," she responded snippily, giving Hermione a cunning smile. "Shall we go in?"

Sublime jazz music wafted up the stairs to Hermione's ears as she and Padma descended. The music stopped suddenly as they reached the last landing, and when they finally entered the dance hall, they were greeted with a merry chorus of, "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" as the band began to play "Happy Birthday" and the guests sang along. Before she could truly take in what was happening, Hermione was being hugged by several people, among them her parents, Nymphadora Tonks and her boyfriend Remus Lupin, and Ron's parents. They were followed by countless old friends from Hogwarts, and at the very end of the line were two familiar faces.

"Surprised?" Harry asked with a twinkle in his green eyes. Beside him, Ron was grinning, too. They both looked dashing in their Auror dress uniforms. Hermione didn't answer Harry except to rush forward and give him a hug, and then to give Ron the same treatment.

"You did this, didn't you?" she asked, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. They both nodded, still smiling.

"Tonks is one of our trainers; she offered to let us have the party in her 'honor'...even though it's really in yours," Ron explained, though explanation was hardly necessary. "Dumbledore chipped in to pay for the facility and the band is a gift from Fred and George. Everyone here helped a little, and you've got an enormous stack of presents besides."

Hermione nodded, pausing to look around the room and take it all in. The decorations were done in deep shades of purple, red, blue and gold, evoking images of a richer time. On one side of the room, a banquet table stood with a feast fit for a king (or queen as the case may be). At the very end of the table was a cake with sparkling candles and the words "Happy Birthday, Hermione!" written on it in color-changing icing. On the other end of the room, there was a table draped in gold fabric with presents piled high on it. Above the table was a banner that read, "Happy 18^th Birthday to Our Hermione!"

She loved it.

And there was something else, too. Standing next to the table, cocktail in hand, was an uncomfortable-looking Draco Malfoy. Hermione turned and gave Harry a confused look. "You invited Draco?" she asked. "I thought you hated him."

"I do," Harry answered with a sigh. "But Padma was in on this whole thing, too. She said it was rude to throw a party for a person and not invite their roommates, no matter who those roommates are. The American one..."

"Lizzie," Hermione supplied.

"Lizzie," Harry agreed, "said that she'd be here late, and the other one...Angelos, is it? He said that he couldn't come."

"Shame, really," Ron threw in, "that the only one of your roommates who bothered to come to your birthday party is the one who has hated you since the first time he laid eyes on you."

"Draco really isn't as bad as all that," Hermione admitted. "Granted, he's no angel, but he manages to avoid making snide remarks about my hair or heritage or anything else."

"Probably because he'll be shipped off to Azkaban if he does anything but." Ron's observation seemed to end the conversation, and the three hurried off to enjoy the night.

Over the course of the next five hours, Hermione danced with almost every gentleman who came to the party (Professor Snape included). She had far too many Apple Martinis but still managed to keep from falling over as she cut her birthday cake. She opened gift after gift, losing track of how many books she got. By the time the last guests--her parents--left, she was certain that it was the most memorable birthday she'd ever had, though it wouldn't truly be her birthday for another two days.

Yet what struck her as she, Harry, Ron and Padma sat on the edge of a bridge over the Isis River was how many people had been missing from the festivities; how many faces should have been there. There hadn't been a laugh like a bark as Sirius Black watched her open her gifts. There was no big bear hug from Hagrid. There was no twitching of the stern face of Minerva McGonagall as she fought hard to keep from smiling. That these things had been missing hit Hermione as she stared at the Isis flowing beneath her feet.

Her three companions, on the other hand, were in very good spirits. Ron and Harry were casting charms on the fish in the river below, causing them to start swimming above the water instead of beneath it. Padma, who had also had too much to drink, was laughing hysterically. Her laugh suddenly seemed too loud, and Hermione just wanted to go home.

"I think I'm going to call it a night," she said softly, stepping onto the road. She added more loudly, "I'm going to head back now."

"Aw, 'Mione, don't go now!" Ron whined as one of the fish leapt out of the water in a beautiful flip. "We're just getting started!"

"No, I'm really tired," Hermione insisted.

"I'll walk back with you then," Ron vowed and jumped onto the road beside her. "How far is it?"

"Not far; a mile, maybe less."

"Alright." Ron turned to the other two. "Stay here, I'll be right back." Then he took Hermione by the arm and began leading her down the road.

"I don't think I've ever been to your flat before," he commented. "Do you like it?"

"It's very nice," Hermione answered, suddenly feeling awkward. She and Ron walked in silence for a moment before he spoke again.

"I didn't want things to end the way they did," he admitted in a low voice. "I didn't want things to end at all."

Hermione felt as if she'd been stabbed through the heart, remembering all the tears she'd cried over Ron--the tears she still cried often. "Oh?" she asked, trying to sound disinterested.

"Look, Hermione," Ron stopped walking and turned to face her. "I don't think I've ever been more miserable than I have been since we broke up. I don't like living without you in my life; I don't want to do it anymore."

He cupped her face in his hands and bent to kiss her. The kiss lasted only a moment before Hermione pulled away, her heart in conflict. Ron looked at her questioningly and she met his eyes with tears in her own.

"Ron, I don't think either of us is in a state to be talking about this," she said quietly. "We're both tired; we've both had a lot to drink. Any decisions we might make tonight might not be the decisions we'd make on a different night, when we were more awake, more sober."

Ron seemed to be contemplating her words, but quickly turned around and started walking again, in what almost seemed like a controlled march. "Fine. You're right," he stated in a flat voice. "We can talk about it later."

The rest of the walk was awkward and miserable. All of Hermione's attempts at starting a conversation were met with silence on Ron's part. When they finally reached her flat, Ron gave her a brief hug and hurried away, leaving her to fumble with her keys and open the door, giving it more attention than she usually would. The door finally opened, and Hermione was not surprised to see Draco sitting at the kitchen table reading, dressed in a pair of silk boxers and a red velvet bathrobe. He looked up when she came in, and for a moment, the two stared at each other in silence.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" he asked, finally, looking back down at his books. Hermione nodded, going to the stove to make a pot of tea.

"I've never had a surprise birthday party before," she admitted. "This was wonderful."

"You deserve it," Draco said, and Hermione waited for him to say something to cover up the outright compliment or to follow it up with a barb, but nothing came. She turned around to face him.

"Thank you," she answered. "Do you want some of my tea?"

"Sure." Draco stood, and Hermione noticed for the first time that his robe was wide open. She tried very hard not to stare at his bare chest as he poured himself a cup of tea and leaned back against the counter. "Are Weasley and Potter still out?"

"With Padma," Hermione said with a nod. "They're down by Port Meadow, making fish do tricks in the water."

Draco laughed. "That sounds like the kind of thing we'd do back at Hogwarts when we'd had too much firewhiskey. Blaise Zabini was best at it; he actually managed to make the Giant Squid do a cartwheel in midair, once. Of course, we were all too drunk to be very impressed by it."

Hermione laughed, too. "That would have been a sight to see, alright," she agreed. "Harry, Ron and I didn't drink much at Hogwarts, save for the 'NEWTs are over' celebration at the end of Seventh Year--and that was a bit overshadowed by other events."

"Namely the Boy Wonder saving the world yet again," Draco pointed out with a hint of bitterness in his voice. "You looked nice tonight, Hermione."

Hermione wondered what was bringing on the compliments. "Thank you, Draco," she whispered, finishing her tea. "I didn't see much of you, but I'm sure you looked nice as well."

Draco smiled and his eyes went to her hair. "Does your hair always curl like that naturally?" he asked, reaching out to tug on a strand. "It's so...springy."

Hermione laughed. "That's one way to put it. But yes, it does do this naturally."

Draco put down his cup of tea and reached for another curl on the other side of Hermione's face. "Without magic, it does that?"

"Without magic. I was born with it."

"Amazing," Draco murmured. For a second, Hermione thought he was going to kiss her, but he let go of her hair and picked up his tea again. "My entire family has bone straight hair; my mother always used to charm hers to do stuff like that, but it never stayed long."

Hermione was about to respond, when the door burst open and Lizzie came through. It was only then that Hermione realized Lizzie hadn't ever shown up at the party. She was dressed in a short black dress with crinolines peeking out from beneath the skirt, along with her combat boots. Her hair was a disheveled mess, however, but her eyes were shining. She was moving very slowly, as if in a dream. "Lizzie?" Hermione asked as Lizzie began to make her way to the bedroom. Lizzie didn't appear to hear her and simply closed the door behind her.

"Huh. Wonder what that was about," Draco commented, and Hermione didn't have an answer for him.