Chance Encounters

Chapter 2:

5 September 1992

It had been more a more than eventful day for Hermione. After going to Gryffindor Quidditch practice expecting to see the team fly about for a couple hours, she instead got pulled into the middle of an argument between the team and the Slytherins. Now Harry and Ron were in detention and she had slipped off to the Library for some private research.

The Library was mostly deserted at eight thirty when she opened the huge doors. Candles lit around the rooms were low, but she had half an hour left for research and she planned to use it. "Mudblood," she muttered to herself as she browsed through the history section.

"'Scuse me?" A head full of black curls poked out from behind a bookshelf.

"Blaise?" Hermione wasn't sure that was his name, but was glad to have bumped into him again.

"Did you just use that word?" he asked angrily.

"What? Oh! No! Not like that." Hermione's eyes widened in horror for being misunderstood. "I'm trying to look up something. About that word."

"I thought you'd studied up on us wizards already." He smiled at her. "Didn't need to do more research, I thought."

"I never came across that word in any of my books. Never heard it before today."

"Malfoy called you that?" Blaise was incredulous. He knew about Malfoy's fight earlier that day, but didn't know Hermione was the target of his verbal poison.

"Yeah he did." Hermione got defensive. Never hearing the word before, but already having a strong aversion to it.

"That's not right." Blaise shook his head. "You don't do that."

"Well he did." Hermione began to look back at the bookshelf.

"We aren't all like that. I hope you know." Blaise looked at her closely feeling a strange affinity for the witch he'd now only met twice. "Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"We aren't." In Blaise's mind flashed a memory of his mother's angry face for using that word once when he was little. He also remembered Malfoy telling him to use it. That was why their families hadn't been friends since he was six.

Hermione picked up a couple of books as she mused over what he had said. "Well, you aren't. It doesn't seem." She took the books in her arms. "I should go." She indicated the time. "Goodnight."

"'Night, Hermione."

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17 September (present)

A week later Hermione and Blaise were combing through press statements due out the next day about the current progress with delegation. Through the week they'd regained the easy working relationship they'd attained in seventh year as Head Boy and Girl. It was late as the day was spent making sure everyone agreed on the information for distribution and now they were left to clean up the mess.

Hermione had organized a television hookup in their office reminiscent of muggle politicians. Though rarely putting it on, now she thought was a perfect chance while they took a break.

"How'd you get that?" Blaise asked pointed to the blinking screen. "What is it?"

"A Television. I have a friend in the Muggle Artifacts Department. His familiarity with Muggles meant he was able to convert their technology to work here." Hermione gave Blaise the remote. "I'm a bit of a dork for muggle politics as much as magical."

Blaise nodded as he figured out the buttons and played around with the images on screen. "Amazing. And this gives all sorts of news?"

"And entertainment. Sometimes used for educational purposes. It's one of the ways they pass along information quickly." Sky News flipped past on one of the channels, but Blaise seemed more interested in how fast he could make it go than what was actually on it. "Here, let me see that." Grabbing the control she went back to the news report.

"Today in Brussels, Italy put forward their judicial nomination for the World Court. Berlusconi faced fierce opposition among other European Union member countries. Most notably Tony Blair declared negotiations impossible if Berlusconi continues to stubbornly only back this nomination alone. This could be a hard blow for the future of an international judiciary as the other member countries look into their constitution this week. Victoria? Can you give us more from where you are?"

"Typical Berlusconi," Hermione groaned under her breath turning the television off in anger. "They've been working so hard on the new resolutions and now this."

"That's Muggle politics, Hermione." Blaise moved around behind her chair to message her shoulders. "That's not any of our business."

"Muggle politics are very much our business." Hermione stood and paced the room. "They affect our world much more than the other way around and as far as our foreign affairs with the Italians are concerned Berlusconi is - he controls everything there!"

"And you don't think I know that?" Blaise leaned against the desk with his arms crossed.

"Of course you do, Blaise. I've never taken you for a fool." Hermione shook her head. "But I thought you of all people would know well enough to take him seriously." There was a pause where Blaise held her eyes.

"Your birthday is soon, no?" he asked casually as he moved to flip through the papers on her desk.

"You're changing the subject." Hermione stood across from him with hands on her hips.

"Yes I am, but it is Thursday, right?"

"Your memory is impeccable," she gave in. They were at the end of their muggle politics discussion it seemed.

"Any plans?"

"Dinner out with the parents and then probably a quiet night at home after that." She shrugged. Harry and Ron would be celebrating with her Saturday night at the pub as both were busy on the actual day.

"Let me take you out for dessert then." Blaise's smile sent electricity down Hermione's back as she accepted his invitation.

"All right. I don't know when I'll finish up with my parents, but I can't expect that to go too late."

"There is no 'too late,' Hermione. There's always time." He moved over to where she stood and took her hands off her hips and onto his. "You had time for me before," he said quietly taking her into his arms swaying gently back and forth. "You had time for this."

Hermione leaned back. Her eyebrows a straight line across her forehead. "Not now, Blaise. We can talk about this, about everything, but not now."

"Of course." Blaise kissed Hermione's forehead and let go of her. He moved back towards the desk. Blaise knew when not to push her any further. And this wasn't a topic he wanted her to close off. So he moved gently. They would get there eventually.

"After all, there is business to do and we all know Hermione Granger never let her mind wander when there was a task at hand." His words hurt not because of his tone but only because she knew there was truth to them and wondered when there wouldn't be something else to distract her. "The update on Apparation controls is ready for press, don't you think?"

"Yes, that and the Media, Culture, and Sport review."

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The next day Hermione and Kieran were enjoying a rare day without the delegation, but instead working with constituents and other daily business of the office. Hermione never expected to look forward to letters from Mr. Gulch and handling his complaints on Goblins running the banks. His conspiracy theories usually drove her crazy, but now seemed comfortable territory. Arden came into the office after lunch full of gusto.

"Hermione darling, we need to book a pub or restaurant for twelve or so for Thursday evening. Can we do that? I was thinking a relaxing dinner meeting or pub night with the Italians to socialize a bit." Arden was talking quickly. He took a seat and a breath before continuing slowly. "We need to socialize. All this work is a bit ... much, no?"

"Arden, this isn't how things work in this office," Hermione reminded him. "I tell you when to do what. I organize your diary. Not the other way around." Placing her hands on her hips she asked, "What's this really about?"

Arden hung his head, "Caroline wants me to go the opera that night and, you know I love the opera, I do, but there are better productions than Carmen which is now on in the West End." His smile was slightly too big when he pleaded, "Get me out of it."

Hermione walked to place some files across the room. "You're a forty-seven year old fully qualified wizard and cabinet member for Merlyn's sake. When are you going to learn to stick up to your wife?"

"Later."

"She's only going to call and complain to me." Hermione groaned remembering past conversations with the intense Caroline.

"And knowing her, she'll only reschedule. You can't blame Hermione forever," Kieran piped in.

"I can try."

"Arden!"

"You didn't let me finish. I can try ... to learn." He smiled.

"We already have a social event planned in another two weeks."

"I know, but that's more formal. This'll be a casual night at the pub. Very different you see." His eyes lit up with mischief before he said, "Besides I've already told the Italians, Minister Bones, and other esteemed members of the International Cooperation Department so you have to do it now."

"But it's my birthday, Arden."

Arden face fell. "Oh, Hermione, I am sorry, but ... Carmen? Don't you understand?"

"No, the reviews I've read says it should be a lovely production."

"Oh, bullocks the reviews."

"Language, undersecretary," warned Kieran.

"I don't want to go and you can't make me."

"Fine. Be petulant. And as you've already booked me into this as well I hope you excuse me as I call my parents to cancel our date and then set up a venue. Anywhere in mind?" Hermione asked through gritted teeth.

"I was thinking St. Stephen's. It is a nice pub, just around the way too, isn't it."

Kieran nodded, "They have the best draught -" Hermione's glare caused him to stop mid-sentence. "Want me to reserve the room, Hermione?" he asked in order to get back in her good graces.

"That would be lovely." Though she had a sneaking suspicion that 'lovely' was not how her birthday was going to be if she had to spend it with the always charming Italian entourage. Then again, maybe she could duck out early unnoticed.

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Thursday came with surprising speed as Hermione adjusted her stockings before leaving the office with Kieran for the social gathering Arden had created within a matter of minutes. Hermione swore that Caroline watched her like a hawk finding prey throughout the night and she did her best to avoid her. Socializing the best she could, she also ignored the ambassador at every chance.

Blaise and Kieran kept her company most of the night talking about Hogwarts memories mostly and gaining a new perspective on things from Kieran who had been three years behind Hermione and Blaise. "No," he was saying. "S.P.E.W. was cool, but I'm not exactly the essence of that am I?" They laughed as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "Us Hufflepuffs at least admired it."

"Slytherins hated, and I mean, hated it, as you can imagine." Blaise refilled Hermione's glass of wine. "Then again, not all of us."

"I would hope so." The three of them laughed as they thought of feasts, Quidditch rivalries, and Fred and George's final act of chaos on the school when Signori Romero and Colangelo came to schmooze.

"Good evening. Are we all having fun then?" Romero asked.

"Just reliving memories from school, sir," Blaise explained. "We all were at Hogwarts together."

"I see," he turned to Colangelo. "Old school friends."

"So, you've been friends a long time, Blaise?" Colangelo sipped at his wine and Hermione could see his cheeks redden as he began to reach his limit.

"More or less. We all were there at the same time, but we weren't in any of the same Houses. Kieran here is a baby compared to us," he laughed and Kieran blushed slightly but raised his hands in a 'you caught me' gesture.

"Do many of your school mates go into politics, Blaise?" Romero continued addressing questions to him alone.

"No, sir, there are a number of vocations our classmates have chosen to follow." Blaise took a sip of his wine. "Harry Potter has become an Auror while others such as Vincent Crabbe and Greg Goyle, the beaters of the Wasps, have gone into sport. Others still are researchers, authors, and academics. One of my closest friends, Neville Longbottom, is now the Herbology professor at Hogwarts."

"And are they all happily married?" Colangelo asked this time.

"Some of them, yes, but I can hardly see what that has to do with anything, sir," Hermione responded to his question before Blaise could get there.

"I am only supposing that the women in your class have found their places behind the men they love in a way you haven't, Miss Granger. I am correct in assuming you are single still."

"You are, but once again I do not understand how that is any of your business." Blaise placed a hand on her arm as he sensed her temper flaring. "I'll have you know that Ginny Weasley-Thomas, or rather, Dean Thomas' wife, is working on her third Quidditch title while still being the proud mother of two, but I suppose you don't care so much about the success of the wives in their own right."

"Miss Granger, if you speak to men like this all the time than it seems to be no surprise as to why you remain single," Romero huffed.

"I can only hope all men are not like you and I will find someone who appreciates me as you do not." Blaise's grip on her arm tightened.

"I think that is increasingly doubtful at your advanced age." The Italian's oily smile was more of a grimace as Romero turned to Colangelo.

"Abbastanza," Blaise said in Italian in a harsh whisper. "Quello è abbastanza. Nient'altro."^§

The two men nodded curtly. "We'll be leaving then. Goodnight."

Hermione stalked off in the opposite direction headed for the Ladies' loo. "Hermione, wait!" Blaise followed her. "Relax, it's okay." They pulled into the small stairwell that lead down to the toilets. "I haven't seen you like this since school." His hands rubbed her arms up and down trying to calm her. "You're letting them get to you."

"How couldn't I?" she fumed. "You know I've never held my temper well.

"I know I saw the mark you left on Malfoy." He smirked. "But this is different. You've done so well with them these past two weeks."

"I'm much better at this. For some reason, they're pushing all the wrong buttons." She wiped her brow. "I couldn't have gotten this far in my job without learning some control of my temper."

"I know you know better. You have gotten far, but you need to watch your anger with them. This is how the Italians play. It's sexist, it's chauvinistic, it's wrong, but you have to be calm."

"I don't want to." Hermione felt like being childish at the moment.

"You only have a couple more weeks and then we're gone." Blaise pushed back her hair off her forehead.

"Two weeks?" she said with some panic in her voice.

"You can do two weeks, Hermione."

"No, not that. I just thought you were here for longer?"

"The Embassy Delegation returns to Rome in two weeks." He nodded. "That means me, too."

Hermione raised her hand to his cheek, "I don't want you to leave yet."

Blaise laughed, "You may change your mind by the time that comes." Hermione scowled at her old friend. "Don't look at me like that. You've done that to me more than once and you know that." He looked at her one last time to see if she was ready to go back into the room. When he decided she wasn't he asked, "So, how about that birthday dessert?"

"Chocolate Puddle Cake?"

"Warm with ice cream melting on it, just as you like it."

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30 May 1993

There were feasts and then there were feasts. The unplanned celebration at Hogwarts during the end of Hermione's second year had a special ambiance that could never be recreated. Terror and fear were abandoned in favor for the celebration in part due to the cancellation of exams.

In the midst of the party, Blaise made his way over to Hermione. "You're all right then?" Startled she turned to find him in his green jammies, silver embroidery claiming that they were his.

"Yeah, I'm fine." No one else seemed to notice the lone Slytherin traveling so far from his pack.

"Good." Blaise looked at Hermione as if making sure, not just taking her word for it. "Glad to see you're okay." Blaise vanished in the crowd again as Hermione's attention was taken away by the Gryffindors that now surrounded her.

^§ "Enough," Blaise said in Italian to the older men in a harsh whisper. "That's enough. No more."