More Than A Memory

Friday arrived sooner than Hermione would have liked, and not only was Anthony late, but he also brought his new girlfriend, Sophie Roper, with him. 

“I’ll rip her hair out.” Pansy mumbled, and Hermione swatted her on the arm in response. 

“Anthony, Sophie. It’s great to see you.” She said brightly, forcing a smile onto her face. At the sound of the introduction, Malfoy all but ran out of the office and appeared in the room, leaning against the doorframe. She glared at him, but the look he gave her in response said he wasn’t leaving, so she went with it. “Sophie, if you want to sit over there? Anthony, your outfit is behind the screen.” 

“Cheers, Mione.” He clapped her on the upper arm, which earned him an open scowl from Malfoy. 

“Stop it.” She whispered to him, and he huffed. “How have you been, Sophie?” She asked. 

“Oh, really good. We’re going to Paris for Christmas.” She gushed, and Hermione nodded, feigning interest. 

“Cliche.” Pansy muttered, and Malfoy snorted. 

“It’s been an age since we were last away. Not since we went to Greece, oh, two years ago now?” 

“Two years?” Hermione’s voice wobbled, just barely, but Malfoy noticed anyway, having already shifted closer to her. Pansy, too, whirled on the witch, but she didn’t seem to notice. 

“At least. Oh, you look great, baby!” She said as Anthony rounded the screen. He was in a plaid shirt - unbuttoned, obviously - and some distressed jeans. Neville and Pansy had carved some pumpkins, something that Hermione had been planning on teasing her about later, but right now, her brain was short circuiting. 

“You know, I’ve just remembered a floo call I need to make. You have everything in hand here, Pansy?” She asked, her voice tight. 

“Of course. Go.” Her friend replied, reading her like a book. Malfoy hesitated for only a second before following her into their office, where Hermione silenced the room before allowing herself to break down.

“Two years.” It felt like the words had been ripped out of her. She clenched her fists against the fabric of Malfoy’s jumper, grounding herself in the feeling of something solid, something real.

“I know.” He murmured. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” He said, holding her close, his chin coming to rest on her head. 

On reflection, Anthony Goldstein hadn’t been a great match for her. He had the tendency to waffle on ad nauseum about quidditch pitch maintenance, and Hermione found herself wishing Sophie Roper the best of luck with the man. She’d accepted his proposal almost out of obligation, worried that she was unlikely to find anyone else willing to marry her, thinking that Anthony was as good a choice as any. He had never complained about the amount of time she spent in the apothecary, evenings and weekends included. She wondered now if that was because he was with Sophie, and hardly noticed her absence anyway. Maybe she’d been asking to be cheated on, she thought suddenly. 

No. Fuck that. A decent partner would encourage her in her ambition, not exploit it as an opportunity to run to his other woman, knowing it was unlikely that Hermione would even notice. The speed that Anthony had packed up his things suddenly made more sense. Most of his possessions had likely already been at Sophie’s. 

“How could I be so blind?” She asked quietly. 

“Granger, you’re allowed to be angry with him. He wasn’t ever invested in you, you know that now.” He said, and for once, she actually appreciated his bluntness. 

She sighed as she pulled away from him, running a hand through her hair. “Are you going to say ‘I told you so’? About today?” 

“Mentally, absolutely. Out loud, I’d rather not get hexed, so no.” He replied, and she snorted. “You are worth so much more than Goldstein. Than anyone, really. There’s someone out there that will see that, I promise.” Gods, how she wished that person was him, she finally admitted to herself. 

“Thank you.” She muttered into his chest as she felt him rest his chin on her head again, wrapping her entirely within his arms. 

“You don’t have to see McLaggen today if you don’t want to. Pansy’s got it.” 

“No, I’ll be there for that one. There’s rather more fun to be had.” She pulled away and smirked up at him. “We could get Theo and Blaise. Make everyone watch, so it’s super uncomfortable?” 

He laughed. “I am absolutely on board. Why don’t you go help them with Mrs Areni’s potions, and I’ll come and get you when McLaggen arrives?” 

“Ok. Thank you, Malfoy.”

He didn’t reply right away - instead, she felt his arms tighten just slightly, as if he was loath to let her go. At length, he spoke.

“Any time, Granger.” He smiled, and it did things to her chest. She sighed, making her way down to the brewing room, the beginnings of embarrassment bubbling amongst the other feelings she didn’t want to acknowledge.

As it turned out, the two of them were well on their way to messing up Mrs Areni’s potions, and so Hermione arrived just in time to salvage them. 

“These aren’t even that complicated, how did you fuck it up this badly?” She asked, and Blaise ran a weary hand over his face.

“You know I don’t usually do potions for skin conditions, it’s a whole different method than what I’m used to. It’s not like he’s any help.” He nodded his head towards Theo, who slapped a hand over his heart. 

“What a horrible thing to say about one of your oldest friends. It’s not my fault that I focus on the tonics. Why are we doing the Areni stuff anyway?” 

“Because I was busy upstairs.” Malfoy replied as he entered the room. “McLaggen’s here.”

“Oh, excellent news.” Theo clapped, scampering across the room to the door with glee across his face, dropping everything he’d been doing. Malfoy shook his head as he followed him. Hermione was casting spells to pause all the potions whilst they were out of the room when Blaise nudged her gently.

“We’ve got you, Granger.” Blaise’s voice was soft but firm - the kind of assurance that meant more than empty words. A promise, not a simple placation. 

“I know.” She smiled, and he returned it, letting her leave the office first. She really did know. There was something to be said for slytherin loyalty.

They walked into the room, Hermione firmly flanked by the boys, to see Cormac walking out from behind the screen in jeans and a denim shirt. Pansy was already scowling, and she felt Malfoy tense as he saw her expression. 

“Mione, you look lovely as always.” McLaggen said, smiling as he saw her. 

“This suits you.” She gestured vaguely at his outfit, sitting down on the sofa between Malfoy and Blaise. Theo was behind Pansy at the camera, ogling shamelessly. 

“It’s very kind of you to say so.” He replied, taking his place in front of the plain background. Being a big name in quidditch these days, they’d decided he didn’t really need much of a theme either. He lacked the appeal of Pucey, on account of his horrendous personality, but including him in the calendar would sell more copies. 

“Go ahead, McLaggen. Wow us.” Theo said, and Blaise snorted next to her. Malory was so close that she could feel the heat of him, his knee just barely brushing hers. She should move. She did not move.

Dean’s session was decidedly less tense, and was a nice end to the day. She managed to get Theo and Blaise to go back to brewing, but Malfoy was less keen to leave her alone, so he stayed. He insisted it was because he wanted to see what all the fuss was about with the muggle Santa outfit, but Hermione knew better. Dean’s shoot also got her in a festive mood, with the Christmassy feeling of the set Pansy put together for him, and so it led nicely into shopping with Harry for their party. 

“Are you alright? Theo told me what happened.” He said as they strolled through the muggle supermarket. The trolley was already fairly full, as shopping with Harry was akin to shopping with a hyperactive child. 

“It just shocked me a bit, I think. I’m fine, honestly, but it’s still, just. Ugh.” She grimaced, and he nodded. 

“I get it. You’re allowed to be upset, you know. Even though you’ve moved on from him.” 

“What would be the point? I haven’t thought about him in months, and he’s happy with Sophie. I’ve got more important things to dedicate brain cells to.” 

“Like a certain blonde wizard?” He smirked, and she sighed. 

“I swear to Merlin, Harry.” 

“Oh, come on, Mione! It was him that you ran to after the whole Anthony thing. Theo said you were attached at the hip most of today. You are not blind or stupid.”

“Theo said.” She repeated in a teasing tone as she grabbed a pack of the ugliest baubles she’d maybe ever seen. They were perfect. 

“We’re doing that now, are we?” Harry grinned, and she pushed the trolley into him. “You’re not allowed to be childish, you’re the responsible one.” He whined, and she laughed. 

“Alright, fine. But Malfoy and I are friends, Harry. That’s all it is. You can all stop.” 

“Once upon a time, I would have rather died than advocate for Malfoy, but I share a bed with his best friend these days, so I’m gonna say it. I think you’d be great together, Mione, and I also think he really likes you.” He said as they rounded the corner to the food aisle. He hefted a large turkey into the trolley as Hermione sighed. 

“It’s stupid, though. I mean, think about everything that’s happened between us. It’s ridiculous enough that we’re as close as we are now. I don’t need to risk it and push for more.” 

Harry whirled around and pointed at her. “Aha! So you do like him!” 

She hid her face in her hands. “Of course, I like him. How could I not? Repeat that and I will murder you, by the way.” 

“I am well acquainted with your threats and how you are more than willing to make good on them, don’t worry. I just want to see you happy.” 

“It’s not gonna happen, Harry. It’s just too…complicated.” That was the conclusion she’d come to after mulling over Ginny and Padma’s words at dinner all those weeks ago. It was just too much for her to consider.

He stopped in the aisle and turned to her. “Mi, if that’s what you think is best, then I’ll stop pushing, but I really think you should talk to him. From the way he looks at you, I can’t see anything scaring him off at this point. He isn’t Anthony, he won’t ask you to elope randomly one day when it’s way too soon to even think about marriage. I mean, Malfoy eloping? Narcissa would rain hellfire down on you both if she was robbed of arranging a wedding to someone her son actually liked.”

“If I promise to think about it, will you let us shop in peace?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then I promise to think about it.” She relented, and he smiled in a satisfied, slightly smug way. It wasn’t a hard promise to make. She hadn’t really thought of much else recently. Harry was right, she wasn’t blind, but she was sure if she was reading their interactions all wrong. Maybe he was just friendly? Circe knew he was protective of Pansy, maybe it was the same thing. Harry frisbee’d two packs of napkins into the trolley, pulling her from her thoughts. Harry and Theo were happy. What if she could have that with Malfoy? She sighed heavily, pushing the trolley after her best friend, feeling more conflicted than ever. 

“Hermione, I adore you, you know this, but please get out of my kitchen.” Harry said, placing his hands on her upper arms. Theo snorted from his place at the breakfast bar, where he was spinning on one of Harry’s stools. 

“I’m helping!” She insisted, but Harry laughed. 

“You absolutely are not.” 

“You’re not Gordon Ramsey just because you can make roast potatoes.” She snapped. 

Theo clicked his fingers. “The angry muggle man! You showed me!” 

Harry smiled at him and nodded, in the same way you might do with a child, before turning back to Hermione. 

“You can’t hide in here forever.” He said quietly, and she sighed. 

“I hate you.” 

“No you don’t.” He smirked, and she scowled as she went back out into the living room, snagging a bottle of wine on her way out. 

They’d worked, for want of a better word, magic on Harry’s house. The place looked like the tackiest festive wonderland, and Hermione probably would have appreciated it more if she hadn’t been so annoyed. She noticed idly that Theo had already made his mark on the place, with the walls refreshed in a rich green wallpaper, softened by the floating candles and muggle fairy lights. The scent of mulled wine and Harry’s potatoes somewhat robbed her of her ire, but she stubbornly clung on as best she could all the same.

“Potter throw you out?” Blaise grinned at her, and she continued to scowl as she flopped down on the sofa between Malfoy and Padma. 

“You can’t sulk on Christmas, Granger, it’s against the rules.” Malfoy said as she poured herself a glass of wine and took a large gulp. He was in a bright red jumper with a Christmas tree on it, something he had complained about loudly until he saw the jumper Blaise had been made to wear. His was blue with several baubles and the words ‘well hung’ written across the front. Considering Ginny’s attendance at the Christmas celebration, he was hugely embarrassed at being forced into the thing. The fact that Ginny thought it was hilarious and endearing was something that Hermione had kept to herself. 

“Apparently I wasn’t helping.” She said, and he snorted. 

“You are stupidly talented at many things, but cooking is not one of them and we all know it.” 

“Get out.” She turned to him, and he laughed. 

“That’s not very festive of you, Hermione.” Padma said next to her, and she finally broke, all three of them laughing. 

“Are you looking forward to the gala?” She asked the witch, and Padma nodded. 

“You best believe I’m getting a hundred of those calendars. I want to embarrass this baby with them when they’re older.” She grinned, glancing at Ron, who was talking to Neville by the fireplace. Her hands rested lovingly over her stomach, and Hermione smiled. When she’d told Ron, apparently he’d burst into tears and Padma had held him for over an hour until he stopped. He was never far from his wife now, always with half an eye on her. It was sweet.

“Each to their own, I suppose.” Malfoy muttered, and Hermione elbowed him in the side. 

“How come your photo is still top secret? Pansy said she’s the only person that’s seen it, is that true?” Padma asked, and Hermoine nodded. 

“I was threatened to not go searching. Honestly, what did you dress up as?” She asked him, and he smiled and shrugged. 

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” 

“It’s a personal favourite of mine.” Pansy chimed in, finally having escaped Luna and her mission to dance with everyone in attendance. “You’ll like it, Mi.” 

“Well now I’m just scared.” She replied, hoping Malfoy hadn’t noticed the way her voice had gone up in pitch slightly. What did Pansy mean by that?

“The Boy Who Cooked bids you all to his table.” Theo called, and Hermione all but ran for her seat. She’d been looking forward to introducing the purebloods to muggle Christmas crackers. She’d focus on that instead.

Malfoy had been dancing with Luna for an awfully long time. Hermione had never been a particularly jealous person. Yes, she’d thrown birds at Ron and Lavender that one time, but outside of that, she didn’t get jealous. Until now, apparently, because if somebody told her that her face was bright green, she’d probably believe them. Luna was twirled and swept around the room, the two blondes making for an attractive pair. She imagined other people were probably dancing too, but she hadn’t really noticed because she was consumed by the single thought that she wasn’t dancing, because nobody had asked. Rationally, she knew that was because she’d insisted on helping Harry clean up in the kitchen, but she wasn’t being rational. She didn’t have to be rational all the time. It wasn’t her bloody job. 

When Adrian Pucey owled a few days later and asked if she wanted to go to the charity ball together, she said yes without a second thought. The fact that Malfoy was going with Luna was entirely unrelated to her decision. She scoffed as she watched Aquila fly off with her reply. Who was she kidding? It was completely related to her decision.