Flourish & Blotts
Hermione left Willa with Luna early the next morning. She planned to tour the property formerly known as Flourish and Blotts.
The proprietor was a spindly man with a handlebar mustache. He wore a pinstripe Muggle suit and a pair of pointy dragonhide boots.
It didn’t take Hermione long to make a decision.
The spindly wizard – Mr. Ovard – was sent away with a signed lease in hand.
Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the shop. There were hundreds of broken shelves, covered in dust and grime.
There was a precarious spot in the back of the shop, a puddle of what might have once been blood spattered messily.
Hermione vanished it away without much more thought.
Covered in grime, sweating down to the individual hairs on her scalp, she stepped out into Diagon Alley. Hermione desperately wanted coffee and biscuits.
She felt too worn to magic herself clean at the moment. She hoped a little sugar would help to fix that.
“Granger?” A smooth voice called from behind her.
Shit. Hermione thought. “Malfoy?” She turned to face the direction of the projection.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” He teased, tone lighter than usual. “What have you been up to? Chasing down alley rats?”
“I signed a lease for the old Flourish and Blotts location…just cleaning up around the shop a bit.”
Malfoy couldn’t contain the look of surprise on his face. She had just noticed how soft he looked today, a gray cashmere sweater under a black wool coat, wool trousers, and even a soft-looking pair of loafers. “Opening your very own bookshop? I am not surprised.”
Hermione let out a little huff of laughter. She startled forward, the feeling of unfamiliar magic against her skin. She looked down at her hands – clean.
Malfoy must have spelled away the dirt and sweat she struggled to get off with just the sink.
“Might I join you?” He asked, holding the door open for Hermione.
“Sure,” Hermione said, looking at him nervously.
After the pair ordered – shortbread cookies and a vanilla latte for Hermione, and a black coffee for Malfoy – they sat in a booth in the back of the cafe.
These little confectionary shops were popping up in all the wizarding hubs – Hermione was grateful.
She missed walking by Ralph’s in Chicago for a latte or Costa in London. It wasn’t often that she wanted coffee, but when she did, she did prefer the Muggle whimsical drinks with extra sweetness and care steamed into the milk.
“I enjoyed yesterday,” Malfoy stated, breaking the awkward silence between them. “Little Granger…she’s quite – precious.”
“She is,” Hermione replied, “I’ve noticed she’s quieter than girls her age, but she is much like her mother.”
“And her father.” Malfoy said.
And for a moment, Hermione couldn’t tell who he was referring to. To himself? Or to Theo? The man who raised her daughter alongside her.
Shame creeped across her chest, heat blooming in her cheeks. “Malfoy,” She said for a moment, “I want to apologize–,”
Malfoy stared uncomfortably away from her, towards the cup in his hands.
“I was afraid, when I realized I was pregnant. There were two potential fathers – one, my ex, and the other, my enemy.” She sucked in a breath, steadying herself. “I don’t know if you read my diary– and at this point, it doesn’t really matter to me. But I’m sure you can put together that my relationship with Ronald ended badly and my time with you…well, that was completely unexpected.”
Malfoy nodded, still looking down at the cup in his hands.
“I want you to know that at first, I was feeling very apprehensive about you and Willa having any sort of contact.”
“I’ll say.” Malfoy whispered, no malice in his voice.
“I think it might not be a bad idea for you to keep getting to know her,” She continued, “To really know her and to know me before you make a decision. If you claim her as heir, what will that mean for the Malfoy name?”
Malfoy huffed, but said nothing.
“Take your time,” Hermione considered. “If Theo and I marry–,”
Malfoy shot her a dark look.
“I’m serious, Malfoy.” Hermione chided, “If I marry Theo and become Hermione Nott, would you be able to raise Willa alongside Theo and I?”
Malfoy studied her face, gray eyes roaming. As if he was searching for something. He looked away again, a somber expression washing over him. His shoulders were tense, his hands gripping tight around the mug.
“And if I said I made up my mind right now?” Malfoy asked, his slate gray eyes icy.
Hermione let out a shuddering breath, “I would accept that.”
Malfoy stood up, dropping a few knuts on the table, “I thought you’d be above running out the clock, Granger. You’ll be hearing from my solicitor soon enough.” He strode out the door and left her sitting at the table, head in her hands.
“What have I done,” She whispered, looking at the coffee mug, still steaming.