Open Mic Nights and Blind Dates
Hermione sat in her kitchen. It was her favourite room in the cottage, partly for the cheery pale yellow cabinets and the smell of the herbs that overflowed from her windowsills, but also because of her scratched and worn dining table where Saturday nights were spent around it with friends, the quiet evenings with her tea and a book. The morning light streamed through the window above her sink as the sun rose above the distant hills.
There was a filmy layer on her tea and her toast was cold. She had been staring at the Witch Weekly photograph for too long. The photo was snapped as Hermione stepped between Dennis and Malfoy. Both men glared over her head, while Hermione wordlessly yelled at Dennis. Theo was grinning viciously from behind Malfoy and Neville was pushing one of Dennis’ friends out of the frame. The headlines of the major wizarding papers were dripping with gossip following the confrontation in Diagon. Hermione groaned, shoving the papers in the waste bin. She should be used to being front page news, but the articles became more outrageous as each paper was delivered.
Hogwarts Professor Attacks Alumni in Diagon Alley Confrontation
Malfoy, Granger, and Creevy: Inside the Torrid Affair
Magic, Mayhem and Love in Diagon Brawl
Of all the ways they could have spun the events, the best was Hermione had been secretly dating Dennis Creevy while she and Draco Malfoy had also been seeing each other.
“Ah! There’s the trollop now!” Hermione’s eyes came back into focus as Ron and Harry stepped into her small kitchen. Ron waved around a copy of The Quibbler folded back to showcase a photo she had not seen before. It was from Diagon Alley, but Hermione did not remember the intense look from Malfoy or how closely she had been standing to him. His face tilted down to look at her, the black and white version of him holding his hands up in surrender.
“Oh shut it, Ronald! Unless you have some good news, please leave so I can floo to work.” She paused, staring at her two best friends and narrowed her eyes. It was not unusual for Harry to be awake so early, not with so many children underfoot at all times, but the Hogwarts term had started yesterday meaning he only had four of the youngest at home now. Ron, on the other hand, she knew would roll out of bed ten minutes before his shift started.
“It is barely seven in the morning. What do you want? First, though, I did not hear the floo. How did you get here?” The boys (for to her they would always be ‘the boys’ no matter how many accolades they had or how many children they raised) grinned at her.
“You know that as wizards we can apparate, right?” Ron snagged the triangle of toast from her plate and shoved it in his mouth. “Wuh’d…kayed….wuds.” He made loud smacking noises as he chewed and spoke. Hermione curled her lip. Harry wallopped him before she could reprimand him like she would Teddy or Eugenia.
“Manners, Weasley. Your mum taught you better. We apparated outside the cottage and since your wards are keyed to us, we just came in.” Harry’s eyes darkened a little. “Honestly, Hermione. What would Mad-Eye say?”
All three of them shouted “Constantly Vigilance!” in unison before laughter echoed around the kitchen. The boisterous guffaw of Ron and Harry’s low chuckle mixed with her peeling laughter was a frequent sound in this room and Hermione hoped it would be a constant fixture.
Harry handed her a flyer once their laughter had subsided with a tinge of sadness. The paper was fluorescent orange with a bold print at the top.
“An open mic night?” She raised an eyebrow delicately. “What is this?” She posed the question to Harry, but it was Ron who answered.
“Mindy is going to be there. She is going to do some…splash poetry?”
“Slam,” Harry interjected.
“Yeah, that. And I figure I’m good enough on the guitar so…You wanna go?” Hermione huffed out a light laugh. Ron had been pining after a muggle girl he had met over the summer and decided he would impress her in a nonmagical way: to become a musician. He had only talked to her once and Hermione wanted to caution him, however, Ron had never outgrown the ability to throw himself into a new task with all of who he was. It was his most endearing quality. She moved about the kitchen, moving dishes to the sink to be washed and wiping the splash of marmalade she had dropped earlier. She glanced back down at the orange flyer.
“Tonight? It’s a Monday.” Ron gave her a shrug in a clear ‘I didn’t make the schedule’.
“Fine. Yes, I will go. But I already had dinner plans with Theo, so you know he will be there.” She grimaced, knowing that if Theo were present she would hear about Harry’s arse at least ten times.
“Great! Oi, don’t you need to be at the office for 7:30? You’re late.” Ron kissed her cheek right before she leapt to her feet, the chair teetering behind her.
“Oh! I have a meeting first thing too.” She groaned thinking about Mrs Turnip. No, it's Turpin. Oh Merlin, do not call her Turnip. “One of you feed Crooks when you leave? Thank you, love you, bye!” The last word was elongated as the fire flared green and she whirled into the flames.
✧✧✧
The pub was overflowing when Harry and Hermione shoved through the crowded pavement. She latched onto his arm, afraid of losing him in the masses. She passed this particular pub occasionally but did not frequent it, even though it was only a few shops down from The Leaky Cauldron. Weaving through the crowd, Harry guided her with a surety. Soon enough, Hermione was nestled at a table between Neville and Harry. Pansy was across from her, hand clasped with Neville’s, giant sapphire on her ring finger. The couple grinned at her as Hermione squealed in delight.
“Oh! It is about time!” She leaned across the round table to hug Pansy and playfully hit Neville. “Headlining Witch Weekly for a fight, but this is the true news! Mogget is going to be so disappointed she missed this scoop.” Hermione could not hold back the smile threatening to split her face open. She had watched the pair dance around each other throughout Eighth year and had rooted for them from the beginning. Pansy brought out confidence in her awkward friend and he soothed her rough edges. They took things slow and Hermione was happy for them, they deserved all the goodness in life that love could provide.
It was clear that Harry and Ron had just been told as well when Ron returned with drinks; a white wine for Pansy, three beers for the boys, and a short tumbler of an ombre of dark liquor and red cherries for Hermione. It was nice to know someone enough that they would fight their way to the bar for you. She took a small sip from the glass, rum and cherries exploded over her tongue. Ron settled into the open stool next to Harry, flinging his body out, unaware of the space he was taking up.
“Hey, Harry. ‘Mione. I thought Nott was coming too? We stole two tables.” Ron nodded his head towards the left, where his battered guitar case was laid out across the surface, saving it from any would-be table poachers. “He better get here soon, the Thesterals are circling.” Sure enough, several occupants were staring at the empty table with envy.
“Ron, how long have you been here if you secured two tables with this mob.” Harry was also looking around, taking in how many people were there. Ron’s entire face turned crimson and Hermione would put a galleon on him standing outside waiting for the pub to open.
“For Godric’s sake! Who invited them?” The entire table turned to look over Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione closed her eyes, cursing both the universe and Theodore Nott. This is why Theo told her to meet him here instead of arriving with her and Harry. She should have suspected when Theo passed up an opportunity to make Harry squirm with his flirting.
“Looks like the lads and lasses started without us boys!” Theo called over his shoulder, Malfoy and Blaise Zabini trailed behind Theo as he wound his way to where they were sitting. Theo did not wait to be invited, but pulled a stool closer to the already crowded table and promptly threw himself into it. Zabini and Ron shifted the other table closer to theirs, making more room, but causing Hermione to shift her stool closer to Neville, allowing room for the new table. Then Hermione noticed another pair making their way to the table. Hermione shot a surprised look at Ginny and Luna as they took seats at Zabini’s table.
“You didn’t think I would pass up an opportunity to laugh at my dear older brother did you, Curls?” Ginny slid into an empty seat, and seeing there were only two left, pulled Luna down into her lap. Casually, Ginny then reached over and snagged the glass in front of Hermione, she took a sip, smacked her lips, and kept the drink. Hermione rolled her eyes about to tell Ginny to get her own when Malfoy slid into the last empty seat, right at her hip.
“Granger.” His voice sent a chill down her spine as he greeted her.
“Malfoy, I didn’t realise you were invited.” She tried to keep her voice even, but she was certain she failed. What was the universe playing at? Running into Malfoy was becoming too frequent.
“Nott insisted we would not want to miss this. Something about Weaslby singing?” His lips curled into a smile, pointed enough to be cruel, and Hermione felt her stomach sink. Of course, he was only here to laugh at Ron. She turned her glare on Theo who simply shrugged at her and leaned forward, half of his body sprawled across the table towards Harry.
“Psst! Potter! Pop another button for me sweetheart!” Theo nodded at Harry’s cream shirt, the top two buttons open. Theo zeroed in on the few hairs peeking out. “Is it true what they say about that Hippogriff tattoo?” Harry’s face went crimson as the curly-haired Slytherin shot him with a salacious wink. Ron gagged into his drink before quickly perking up.
“Mindy is here, I’ll..erm…I’ll just go and say hello, yeah?” As Ron rounded the chairs, Hermione noticed Malfoy had left. Glancing around the throng, she did not see him either. Trying not to wonder, she turned her body towards Neville and Pansy and asked them about their engagement. She was smiling at Neville’s side of the proposal when a glass identical to the one Ginny had stolen, sat in front of her. She turned to thank Harry, only to be met with Malfoy lowering himself into his seat once more. Frowning, she closed her mouth. She refused to thank him for anything. He did not look at her as he joined Ginny and Blaise in a rowdy conversation over the Quidditch World Cup and who would come out on top, but when he took a sip, liquid sprayed across the table, splattering against Harry’s glasses and neck.
“What the bloody…fuck! Malfoy!” Harry stood up, throwing his chair backwards.
“This is not firewhiskey!” Malfoy sputtered, spicy amber alcohol dripping down his chin. Theo wordlessly handed him a napkin, but stepped next to Harry and offered an alternative cleaning option to Harry.
“Down boy.” Pansy wrinkled her nose at Theo and dragged Harry towards the loo without a backward glance at the rest of them, her hips swaying causing more than one pair of eyes to follow.
“Ferret, it’s a muggle pub, of course, it isn’t Ogden’s.” Ginny leaned in and took a deep sniff. “No, definitely not Ogden’s. Smells like that terrible stuff Harry made us try…what was it?” She glanced around, looking for Harry, but turned to Hermione instead. “Curls, you know the muggle stuff? Absolutely appaling to even call it alcohol?”
“Fireball. Popular in the Americas. Cinnamon in flavour.” She had rattled off the information before she even registered she knew it. Malfoy spared her a glance, his throat bobbing. He still had a droplet at the corner of his lip, Hermione looked away, her stomach tightening again.
After Harry and Pansy returned to the group, Neville brought her attention back to the newly engaged couple and Hermione tried not to let her mind wander, especially as Malfoy left to retrieve a new drink.
Eventually, Ron wandered back to the table, barely pausing enough to shoot a glare at the Snakes but kept his thoughts to himself. In response to Neville and Pansy’s relationship, the two groups would converge like this once in a while. The biting comments dulled over time, fading for the most part. There was still animosity between the two groups, mainly because of Ron and Malfoy. If she was being honest with herself, there was a grudge between her and Malfoy as well, but she did not want to be honest with herself and pushed the thought away. Hermione was grateful for it. She enjoyed spending time with Theo and Pansy since they had held her hostage until she admitted they were friends in their final year of Hogwarts. She liked Pansy’s fire. She never allowed gossip to dictate her actions and she was unapologetically herself. Hermione admired that. Plus, her wardrobe was infinitely better than Hermione’s, which Hermione helped herself to on many occasions, including the sheer black tights with little hearts on them, the green corduroy tank dress and the black top she was currently wearing. The only part of her outfit tonight that came from Hermione’s cottage was her boots, scuffed and worn. Thankfully open mic nights didn’t lend themselves to polish and Hermione felt comfortable in her worn boots.
The first few acts of the night were comedians, but being so removed from the muggle world, their table carried on small conversations. Malfoy’s elbow or hip occasionally sent sparks down her spine as one shifted and their limbs grazed the other. Hermione tried not to be hurt by the pained expression Malfoy wore every time her arm brushed his as they reached for a drink or one of the appetisers littering the table. Seven years later she still felt like that insecure thirteen-year-old she had been all because of a brief look from a man who wanted nothing to do with her.
When a raven-haired woman in paint-splattered overalls took the stage, Hermione was three glasses in. She would have to switch to water with the way her eyes unfocused and her body swayed in her seat. Ron had moved towards the front of the room to watch Mindy’s set and Hermione smiled. He may not know her very well yet, but she could see that Ron was smitten with this girl and seeing her friend happy made her insides glow. She sighed loudly, a sappy smile on her face. She sipped the fourth glass handed to her.
When Ron took the small stage with his acoustic guitar, she was the first to start catcalling with Theo. Ron was pale but determined and after a false start, he clumsily introduced himself.
“Uh, yeah. Hi. I’m. Well, I’m Ron and this is…well, yeah. You’ll know it.” He shuffled around at the mic with the stage presence of a baby panda. There were a few pity laughs from the crowd and then his fingers started to pluck at the strings. Instantly, there were groans echoed across the room. But Hermione, in her inebriated state, went around the table and pulled Harry to his feet. She had introduced this one to the boys ages ago.
“Let’s dance!” She called, not giving him a chance to refuse as she gripped Harry’s hand. She needed to move, her feet were floating, her body gliding around several bodies. She swayed next to Harry who grinned down at her, twirling her in small circles.
“You have to move your body, Harry!” She gripped his hips and rocked them side to side with hers, laughing as he jerkily followed her rhythm, his body ridged. Ron’s raspy voice flowed over the room, the grumbles faded enough that she could hear someone behind her speaking.
“I hate that he doesn’t sound terrible.”
“Speak for yourself, Zabini, I think he sounds like a dying garden gnome. Between Weaslby and these two, I am going to be sick.” Hermione’s focus drifted as Ron’s voice slowly faded out the last lines of Oasis’ Wonderwall.
You're gonna be the one that saves me (That saves me)
You're gonna be the one that saves me (That saves me)
You're gonna be the one that saves me (That saves me)”
Hermione let her thoughts and body drift, smiling and swaying. She was leaning on someone at a point who held her briefly with a soft sigh, hands coasting down her side, holding her steady. It was over before she could exhale and then Harry was walking her into the cold air.
“Come on, Golden Girl. Let’s get you home before Crookshanks comes to find you and eats my face off for allowing you to drink so much on a work night.” Hermione smiled into his shoulder as she felt the pull of side-by-side apparition and then she was being tucked into soft covers. A heavy weight settled on her chest. She did not hear Harry leave but fell asleep with a smile on her lips as Crookshanks’ purrs lulled her to dreams.
✧✧✧
“Seriously, Hermione. We promise you and this bloke will get along famously,” Dean reassured her as Seamus nodded sagely from behind his partner. After the war, Seamus and Dean decided they had enough of fighting their feelings and settled down together in Ireland (Seamus has only blown up the sitting room twice since they moved in together).
Keeping true to the Muggle trend of a blind date, the pair did not give any other hints on who her date was but said she would know him immediately. Seamus made her promise to give it a try.
“‘Alf of ‘ogwarts had galleons on the relationship and we want closure.” He looked at her with such hope in his eyes, she knew she would give in. Hermione pulled nervously at the hem of her cream jumper. She was not sure she was ready for a date, let alone a blind one, but Dean and Seamus insisted she would like this guy. She spent too much time trying to decide who would show up to occupy the seat across from hers.
“Justin? I think he is in Romania now, though. Could be Lee Jordan, not sure why someone would think we would get along…” Her thoughts amused her while she waited.
Sighing, Hermione looked around the Muggle cafe and waited some more. The blue-haired waiter had been by twice now passing a sympathetic smile as he dropped off the chips she had ordered. She returned it weakly, vowing that whoever this date was, he had exactly five minutes to show his face or she was leaving. No sooner had the words crossed her mind, then the bell at the door jingled. Refusing to look and be disappointed, Hermione shoved several sauce-drenched chips into her mouth.
“Hermione?! What are you doing here?” She nearly choked when she heard Harry’s voice from behind her. Of all the places for Boy Wonder to show up…
He looked nice, his messy hair more purposeful, light green dress shirt paired nicely with a pair of dark grey slacks. He straightened his glasses and opened his arms for a hug. After swallowing the half-chewed food, Hermione awkwardly embraced her best friend.
“Oh I'm just–” She searched for an answer that wouldn't make her sound pathetic.
“Oh you know, Harry. Just waiting over 40 minutes for my date to show up, instead, I’ve received multiple pitying looks from the waitstaff and that gentleman over there propostioned me twice thinking I was an escort.”
“Oh good, my date isn't here yet,” Harry sank into the seat across from her as she struggled to answer his simple question.
“Y-you're date?” Her delicate brows creased in the centre. “You didn't tell me you had a date tonight!” Hermione nudged the chip basket closer to the centre of the table.
“Oh yeah, Dean and Seamus set me up with someone from school. Can you believe that, in my 20s and still relying on school connecti–” Harry's words drained away just as all the blood was leaving Hermione's face. Her teeth ground together, internally cursing Dean and Seamus. With all the sly smiles, and the reassurance that she would enjoy her date’s company, everything fell into place.
“Erm, Hermione? Everything ok?” He looked behind him, his casting hand dropping slowly below the table and Hermione knew he was reaching for his wand.
“Oh! No! It's fine Harry!” The last thing they needed was a breach of The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. “It's just that. Well,” she coughed, her throat dry. “Well, Dean and Seamus also set me up on a date. Here. Tonight.” Her warm brown eyes stared into Harry's for a moment before gulping her water.
“Blimey! Those gits didn't tell me it was a double-blind date! Well maybe with you here, I won't make a fool of myself.” He popped a chip into his mouth and settled in. Hermione shook her head, curls cascading around her shoulders. She adored Harry like a brother, but sometimes the way his brain didn’t make connections surprised her. Shaking her head, Hermione smiled at him. His hands flailing around as he told another Teddy and Eugenia story. Her eyes softened as she looked at her friend.
Glasses and messy hair aside, Harry Potter had grown up. The Auror Program opened his eyes to a side of the magical community that crept through the manor underbellies and he did not look away. He immediately handed in his resignation to Dawlish and devoted his time and gold to making the world a better place for those kids. He did not attempt to replace their parents, but Hermione could see the allure. A war hero turned single dad to orphans did make the nether’s quiver. Not hers, but she was sure someone would appreciate him. He deserved all of the love life had to give him; pintsized or otherwise.
Harry mentioned a time or two about their dates standing them up and she did not have the heart to inform him that they had been set up. She knew he did not see her like a woman just like she did not look at Harry and see anything but her best friends. The evening passed with good food, drinks, and even better company, but she still vowed to rip into Dean when she saw him next.
✧✧✧
Malfoy’s study was dark, an oil lamp and the hearth the only source of light. His long frame was slumped into the leather chair he had inherited from his father. Of course, everything he had was bequeathed to him with Lucius’s death. He was now Lord of the Manor. Zabini lounged next to the fire, tumbler in hand.
“Why are the two of you sulking in the dark?” Nott stood in the middle of the room, hands on his hips like an admonishing mother. “It is eight pm and the two of you look ready to climb into bed. Curls and Potter are out having a grand time on their date and this is what I come home to?”
Draco sat up.
“Dates. Separately.” When Theo did not answer, Draco lowered his glass.
He stood up.
“Theo…” Draco could not keep the slight growl from his voice as he took a step towards his best mate. “Nott, I am not above maiming the postman.”
From the corner, Zabini chimed in. “It’s shooting the messenger.”
“I will do that too if our dear Theo does not explain himself.” Draco used his full height to glare down at Theo. “Start speaking.”
“All I am saying is I heard from Pansy who heard from her boy toy that Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan are meddling Gryffindors and set Granger and Potter on a blind date. I may have taken a stroll around the area where the two were reportedly supposed to be and perhaps I saw the pair looking cosy as they left the restaurant arm in arm.” He smiled mischievously at Zabini who only rolled his eyes. Draco was too busy running scenarios of death through to notice the exchange.
“That’s it. We have to kill Potter.” There was a definitive edge to his statement. Zabini raised an eyebrow and mouthed 'we?' at Theo.
“Breath mate. If the noseless one could not manage to end Potter’s existence even with two Avada’s, what do you think you will accomplish?” Theo placed a calming hand on Draco’s shoulder but he shook it off. No, Potter has had too many chances. Dancing with her, taking her home, getting her in bed…possibly naked…
“Voldemort didn’t want Potter dead as badly as I do.”