Hermione's Evening

Hermione's Evening

Chapter 01

It started out as almost every evening had done in the past ten years for Hermione Granger: sitting in the back corner by herself in The Leaky Cauldron, nursing her whiskey and rye, and reading the ever-updated "A History of Hogwarts." This was her routine every night, except when she was visiting her Muggle parents or out of town on Auror business.

She arrived at the pub at her usual time of 7pm, and promptly went over to the bar. As always, Tom muttered, "Yer usual, Hermione?"

"Of course, Tom."

He slid the Scotch whiskey and rye across the bar to her. "I'll put it on yer tab, shall I?"

"Of course," and her usual sad smile flashed and disappeared. She carried the drink in one hand with her book bag slung over the other shoulder, and headed for the empty small table in the corner. She sat in the seat with her back to the wall so she could face the entire room and observe the comings and goings of the pub's patrons. It was a result of her Auror training never to sit with one's back to an entire room.

She settled in for the duration and began to read the familiar book, savouring its pages and the changes that magically appeared as needed. As she paused to take in a new passage or to think, she would sip her drink, which refilled automatically as needed.

Hermione was so engrossed that she lost all track of time. A clearing of the throat failed to arouse her from her reading until it was repeated, and she looked up, annoyed. "Tom, I don't need a refill..." Her voice died away.

Standing in front of her was the very person she had not seen for ten years, since that fateful day in court. Draco Malfoy.

"Granger, don't you ever read anything else? I thought you'd finished that at Hogwarts." He sneered in that oh-so-familiar voice.

She stared at him, her mouth agape.

"You might want to close your mouth, Granger." A long forefinger was under her chin, pushing her jaw shut. "D'you mind?" He indicated the empty seat across from her. She started to say, "yes," but he never gave her a chance to voice her protest; he sank gracefully onto the old bench, and shrugged off his cloak. Black velvet, her mind registered. Some things never change.

"What are you having? My shout."

"Er, a whisky and rye," she muttered. "But you needn't bother, honestly. I've got a tab here."

"No, Granger. I'll put it on my tab this time." He gestured to Tom, who nodded and brought over Draco his drink.

They sat and looked at each other over their drinks. Hermione knew what he saw. A young woman of thirty-two, who had seen too much evil for it not to show in her eyes. The same tired brown eyes she saw every morning in the mirror, in a thin face surrounded by short, spikey dark chestnut-coloured hair. Draco himself hadn't escaped the ravages of the war, either. His face was still lean and handsome, but marred by a scar across his cheek. He had obviously been in the sun; for he had a tan he had never shown before that last battle, before he'd left England. However his eyes were still the piercing grey she remembered so well, and his white-blonde hair was still the almost-white shade she recalled. Only cut shorter.

"So, Granger," he smirked. "What d'you think? Still the stud?"

She laughed shortly. "You don't change, do you Malfoy? Still the conceited ass, I see."

"And you're still the know-it-all, I see," he returned somewhat amicably.

There was a pause as the two former enemies scrutinised each other across the small table, neither giving way.

"So..." Draco thumped his glass down. "Seems I owe you a belated thanks. Granger."

Hermione wrinkled her brow, puzzled. "What for, Malfoy?"

"Ten years ago...when you testified on my behalf, in Wizarding Court..."

"Oh that, that was nothing," she dismissed.

"Still, you got me off a murder charge."

"Still, Malfoy, just doing my duty."

"Granger, you could have refused, you know. As I recall, you'd just lost your fiance, and one of your best friends. You could have refused to testify and no one would have blamed you."

"But you had lost your wife and killed your father in defence, Malfoy. Harry had been killed by your father in retaliation for killing Valdemort. Your father had killed Ginny, too. Your wife. There was no way I was going to let you go to Azkaban for murder when it was in self-defence, Malfoy. It was my duty."

"And you always do your duty, don't you?"

"Yes," she muttered.

"Even when it's killing you?"

"Yes, even then." She stared at him; her eyes empty of emotion. Gods, she was a walking automation. What had happened to her spirit?

"Granger..." he paused.

"What?"

"Oh never mind. It was a stupid question anyway."

"It couldn't be any dumber than what you used throw at me at Hogwarts."

"Oh it is, believe me. Maybe I'll ask you later."

"All right." She incuriously shrugged. "So what are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"I'm back in England on business. Ever hear of the Woollongong Warriors?"

"The Aussie Quidditch team? Who hasn't? Even I've heard of them."

"Well, I own them. Part of them, anyway. I'm one of a group of owners. And I'm here in England, on a scouting trip, looking for a seeker. Ours quit suddenly last month, leaving us in the lurch."

"Don't you have scouts to do that sort of work for you?"

"Well, normally, we do, but I'm also here to settle my mother's affairs and so decided to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak."

"Since when do you use Muggle expressions?"

He looked innocent. "Who said that was a Muggle expression? How do you know a wizard didn't say it first?"

She had to laugh at that. And then sobered. "Sorry about your mum, Malfoy."

"Thank you. She'd never been well since my dad died, you know. Just racketing about in that mansion with no one but house elves to keep her company. I tried to get her to join me down in Oz, but she didn't want to leave, God knows why."

"I suppose she didn't want to make a change. Some people can't, you know. She must have really loved your father." The last almost made her choke to say it. Lucius Malfoy had not been a loveable man, to say the least, in her opinion.

Draco's expression hardened. "Like hell she did. He would beat her and curse her with the Cruatius Curse, you know. She'd come to my room at night in intense pain, crying her eyes out."

"Oh Draco..." Hermione really didn't quite know what to say.

"It's all right, Hermione." He replied sadly. "There was nothing I could do, I was just a kid at the time. When I married Ginny, I promised myself I'd not be like him, nothing like him. And she died anyway. At his hands."

Hermione reached out her hand. Draco covered it with one of his in silence. They sat that way for a few minutes.

He cleared his throat. "So..."

She looked at him, one eyebrow cocked inquiringly. "So...?"

"So, have you married, Hermione? I don't see a wedding ring." His thumb gently rubbed over her ring finger.

She withdrew her hand. "No, I haven't."

"Why not? Still pining for Potter?"

She snorted. "After ten years? Please..."

"So why not, then? I'd have said you'd have had men, both wizards and Muggles lining up to date you."

She stared at him. "Malfoy, a compliment? From you? Will wonders never cease?"

It was his turn to snort. "Hey, Granger, even at my worst, I thought you were good-looking. Hell..." he looked embarrassed. "I thought you were beautiful."

"You could have fooled me." She snarled "All those years of calling me 'Mudblood'..."

"Yes, well, I did apologise, if you will recall."

"Yes, you did, to be fair. I remember it was at your and Ginny's engagement party."

"And I did apologise to Potter and Weasley, too, if you remember."

"Yes, Ron still talks about it. You were rather hard on him and Harry, y'know."

"Weasley? Do you still see him? How come you're not married to that git? Couldn't stand the thought of your kids having that flaming red hair?"

"Good God no...it wasn't that. He asked me to marry him, but I said 'no'."

"Why not? Would've been logical for you, wouldn't it?"

"That was just it. I almost did, but I realised I didn't love him, not the way I loved Harry, or the way I loved..." here she stopped.

" Who?" Draco wanted to know.

"Never you mind, Malfoy. Anyway, it was no loss, not really. Ron married Lavendar Brown, you remember her..."

"Ah, yes, the ditzy blonde Gryffindor. Always on about her makeup or something..."

"Well, she's improved considerably since our Hogwarts days. They have three children now, two boys, twins, and a girl. What about you? Are you married?"

"No...not."

"Why ever not?"

" Well, I mourned for Ginny for quite some time. And then, it just didn't seem worth it..." His voice trailed off sadly.

"Yes, I know."

"You do, don't you?" He looked at her with those grey eyes that seemed to see things no one else did.

"Hermione...":

Hermione looked at her watch. "Oh shit, look at the time. I have to go." She began to gather up her things and stuff them into the rucksack.

"Hold on, I'll pay for the drinks, and walk you out." He didn't give her a chance to protest.

Draco went over to the bar to pay Tom for their drinks. She looked at him and had to admit to herself that he was still quite a good-looking man, in a rougher sort of way. He'd never looked unhealthy, really, but he had been almost unnaturally pale. Now that slight tan made his scar almost noticeable and his blonde hair was white, now. His body, she noticed, was still muscular, even more so now that previously, probably because he'd been working in the outdoors and not just at Quidditch as a seeker.

He was back at their table, and stood there, his eyebrow quirking up. "Still like what you see, Granger?" he smirked.

She flushed, a rosy hue. "You've caught me, " she admitted. "No harm in looking, is there?"

Draco smirked again. "No, as long as you realise it's a two-way street, Granger."

She had to laugh. It was such a typical Malfoy remark. "Come on, let's go."