Chapter 9
Despite her renewed passion for destroying the rift between purebloods and Muggle-borns, Hermione found most of her thoughts preoccupied by ways to introduce Malfoy and the other Slytherins to Muggle life, distracting her both at work and when she was socialising with her own friends.
She ended up leaving her house twenty minutes earlier than necessary for their next outing together, unable to cope with any more time spent sitting at home alone on Saturday morning.
Earlier that week, she’d texted the address of a park to each of the Slytherins, instructing them to meet her there dressed in something that would pass among Muggles. For the first time, she was not guiding their outfit choices, though she hoped the challenge would not be too much for any of them—they’d spent enough time among Muggles to know what would generally pass as appropriate.
Sunlight warmed Hermione’s face as she strolled to the park, but the breeze was cool enough that she kept her denim coat buttoned.
To her surprise, Malfoy and Theo were already at their agreed meeting point, lounging on a bench side by side. Both were dressed more casually than she’d expected, with dark jeans and t-shirts. Malfoy had chosen a black leather jacket; Theo had settled on a grey bomber jacket.
Excitement fluttered in her stomach as she approached them, which was as startling as the picture of the two purebloods passing as Muggles.
Both men stood as she approached.
“Hermione, you look beautiful, as always.” Theo smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close.
As she spent more time with the Slytherins, Hermione was growing familiar with their quirks. Being pulled into hugs and randomly touched by Theo was less of a surprise as she grew to learn his penchant for physical affection; though Hermione hadn’t yet deciphered the meaning behind the glares Malfoy shot Theo’s way whenever he fawned over her. Perhaps the blond was jealous of the attention—he certainly enjoyed basking in her sole attention at work when she had no means of escaping.
“Do you like my outfit?” Theo demanded, stepping back and turning on the spot for her to examine him. “Draco said you like jeans that are tight around the bum, so I made sure they were well-fitted.”
Heat scorched Hermione’s cheeks, eyes popping wide.
“Malfoy!” she exclaimed, her voice emerging several octaves higher than she’d expected. Sure, perhaps her eyes drifted to that area a little too often when Malfoy wore Muggle clothing, but he didn’t need to call her out on it. She was only human; Malfoy couldn’t blame her when he was the one choosing to wear such form-fitting trousers whenever they ventured out of the Wizarding world recently.
“I’ll take that to assume she approves.” Theo grinned at Malfoy, who rolled his eyes.
“When are you going to tell us what you’re introducing us to today?”
Hermione regained control over her thoughts, shaking off her annoyance at her intern. “When the others arrive.” She frowned at the men in front of her. “You’re both early.”
“It’s rude to leave a lady waiting.” Theo winked at her.
Hermione rolled her eyes but felt her lips curling into a reluctant smile. Spending time with Malfoy’s friends always seemed to result in her laughing and smiling until her cheeks ached, marvelling over their quick wit and sharp tongues. She found herself looking forward to their next meetings as much as she did the regular outings with her own friends.
Beyond the introductions to Muggle life, the Slytherins frequently sought her out at the Ministry, dragging her and Malfoy out to lunch for a forced change of scenery. As much as she objected to it, she couldn't deny that they were forcing a healthier work-life balance upon her.
At school, their ability to tease and mock had been terrifying, but seeing it enforced against each other softened the taunts, transforming them from malicious to affectionate. More often than not, Hermione took part in their repartee, much to their vocal glee.
Would her friends warm to the Slytherins as quickly as she had? Though they all knew that she worked with Malfoy, only Ginny and Harry knew just how much time she was spending with his friends.
An idea began to form but she had no time to voice it before Pansy, Blaise, and Daphne arrived, noisily announcing themselves and demanding that Hermione critique their outfits.
All three were dressed considerably more formally than she’d requested. Blaise wore a tailored, navy suit, the top few buttons of his white shirt undone to expose a slice of his chest. Silky, long-sleeved maxi dresses clung to Pansy and Daphne’s figures. A flash of insecurity flushed through Hermione at the two beautiful women, but she shook it off; they were no longer rivals across a schoolyard.
“This is what you all consider informal?” Hermione questioned.
“You can never be overdressed, Granger,” Pansy tutted.
“You can when you’re visiting a record store.”
Daphne clapped her hands together. “Oh, you’re taking us shopping!”
Hermione nodded, smiling. “I thought it might be fun to show you some Muggle music.”
“Are we driving there?” Theo demanded.
Ever since she’d first showed them Mario Kart, he’d displayed an increasing eagerness to drive a Muggle car. Hermione had neither the courage nor money to risk letting him behind the wheel of her parents’ car, given the likelihood that he would immediately crash or break something.
After eight year, she’d finished the process of getting her driving licence, but London’s public transport network almost made owning a car redundant. At some point, she would have to plan a trip further afield to satisfy Theo’s desires to drive a car, but today was not that day.
“It’s only a minute or two’s walk from here.”
Theo’s face fell, but he accepted the disappointment with a nod.
She expected the Slytherins to follow her, chatting amongst themselves while she led their pack in the right direction, but Malfoy stepped to her side, positioning himself between Hermione and the road as they left the park gates.
“I hope you aren’t planning to pay for all of this.” He glanced sidelong at her.
She snorted. “Of course not. You’re all far too wealthy for me to foot the bill. I just thought it would be a fun idea for each of you to pick an album and bring it back to mine where we can listen to it. Muggles make some excellent music.”
Although he looked unconvinced, Hermione had yet to find a Muggle item that Malfoy did not love.
A bell chimed above the door as Hermione and the others entered the record store. A sandy-haired teenager looked up and gave them a nod but left them to browse on their own.
Row upon row of waist-height aisles lined the shop floor, displaying boxes packed full of vinyl records, CDs, and cassette tapes. Most of the Slytherins immediately sprung down the aisles, fingering the record sleeves to admire the artwork and album titles. Malfoy lingered by Hermione.
She raised her brows at him.
He opened his mouth and closed it, frowning.
“What's wrong?” she prompted.
“Where should I start?” He gazed around, helplessly.
“Well, what’s your favourite music?”
He shrugged, eyes avoiding hers. “Mother only ever really plays classical music at home.”
“Now might be a good time to try something different,” she suggested.
Malfoy did not move from the spot he appeared glued to. “What do you like?”
Hermione pursed her lips and glanced around at the genre names hanging above each aisle.
“Come on.” She grabbed Malfoy’s hand and pulled him along behind her, dragging him through the store until she found the section she needed. She flicked through the alphabetised records until her eyes fell on the familiar cover.
“Here.” She pulled the vinyl from the box it had been in and handed Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors to Malfoy. He took the record, examining the two figures on the cover.
“This is your favourite?” he asked, eyes flicking from her to the vinyl.
Hermione shrugged. “One of them. It means a lot to me. My—” she swallowed and cleared her throat. “Fleetwood Mac is my dad’s favourite band. He was always playing this album when I was growing up. He sang Dreams all the time.” She turned the record over in Malfoy’s grip and pointed to the second track.
Malfoy was quiet as he read through the other song titles.
“You don’t—I mean—you might not like it. You don’t need to choose one just because I like it.” She stumbled over her words, embarrassed that she’d turned what was supposed to be a casual, fun outing into something significantly heavier.
“No.” Malfoy’s fingers tightened on the record. He twisted to hold it away from her, as if she planned to snatch it from his grip. “No, I want this one.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded.
The other Slytherins took considerable longer to pick out their albums but, within the hour, the six of them were back in Hermione’s home and setting up the first album.
Sounds drifted from the kitchen as Malfoy and Pansy made tea for them all while Hermione put Daphne’s choice on her record player. Grace by Jeff Buckley began to spin on the turnstile, chosen, as Daphne explained, for the “cute Muggle on the front”. Although Theo adored it, the others remained to be convinced of the musical abilities of Muggles.
Daphne rooted through Hermione’s cupboards to choose several games for them to play as they listened to the music throughout the afternoon. Theo’s choice—Spice by the Spice Girls—was a hit with Blaise and Daphne, who agreed to trade the record for Grace.
By the time they reached Pansy’s album—Dookie by Green Day, which she loved—three heated arguments had broken out over games of Uno and Blaise began spiking their soft drinks with liquor. Hermione couldn't find the will to object since he’d specifically purchased Muggle alcohol for the occasion.
By Blaise’s pick—NSYNC’s No Strings Attached—Hermione had ordered them pizza and they were well on their way past tipsy. Daphne and Pansy dragged everyone to their feet to dance around the living room to the boyband’s music, much to Hermione’s horror.
Malfoy had been as reluctant as her, though both of them soon had tears of laughter streaming down their faces watching some of Theo’s more ambitious dance moves.
When Hermione put Malfoy’s album on, the Slytherins were lying in various states of exhaustion throughout the room. Half-empty pizza boxes were scattered between their sprawling bodies. Enough alcohol had been consumed that conversation was growing either soppy or unhinged.
Malfoy passed Hermione a fresh drink and sat beside her on the sofa. The familiar opening track of her father’s favourite album filled the air.
Her chest tightened when Dreams began to play, breath hitching with the memories.
Malfoy’s hand slid into hers. He said nothing, but the understanding in his eyes was a comfort. His thumb brushed slow, soothing strokes across the back of her hand. Hermione closed her eyes, biting her lip to stop the tears in her eyes from spilling over.
She’d avoided listening to the album since altering her parent’s memories. The lyrics now felt like a bitter mockery of her situation.
“Like a heartbeat drives you mad,
In the stillness of remembering what you had,
And what you lost,
And what you had,
Ad what you lost,”
Hermione rested her head on Malfoy’s shoulder and enjoyed the kindness of his comfort as she pretended she could hear her father’s voice singing along to the chorus.