Divorced Hermione

It was hard getting back to work on Monday, as she felt that she hadn’t had enough time over the weekend to enjoy spending it with her children. More and more she felt that way and more and more the guilt crept up on her about not seeing them as much as she used to.

She had parent teacher interviews to attend at the children’s school two afternoons that week, as they prepared to finish primary school. The interviews went well, with both children receiving praise from most of the teachers. Even Hugo, who was so much like Ron, was doing very well.

The following weekend went by much the same, with Hermione thinking about how truly alone she now was and would soon be. Perhaps there had always been the idea that she might get back with Ron. Perhaps she thought that after he had truly been punished, after he realised what he had lost, that he would come back to her. What a fool she was. He had been with her this whole time.

Hermione contemplated taking Ron to family court and fighting for full custody. She wanted nothing more than to punish him for being the twat that he was, but she knew that it would only punish the children. Both times they had gone to his house, they had come back and said how much fun they had had. And Hermione was not selfish enough to take his kids away from him. She had read newspaper articles about men who had divorced from their wives and committed suicide because they hadn’t been able to see their children. That’s the last thing she wanted to do not only to her children but to his family and his friends. Afterall, he was still best friends with Harry and there would always be that part of Hermione that loved Ron.

Hermione dragged herself through Tuesday and when Wednesday approached, she was finally feeling on her game, professionally. She had a presentation to make and was confident in what she knew. She sat in her office and gathered her resources for the presentation. She knew her stuff and she knew her audience. They were the ones who were going to provide the funding to continue the research into muggle protection laws and finally get the law passed to make it an offense to discriminate against smuggles, with jail time attached. It had always been frowned upon, Hermione had seen to it that there was a fine imposed, but now came the time to fight to ensure that anyone who withheld something, treated someone less than, or even spoke to someone with distain because they were muggle born, would spend a minimum of a year in Azkaban. Hermione’s work was iron clad. All it needed was someone worthy to present it to the right people and it would become a law. She knew that anyone could be chosen to present it, but she was confident that they wouldn’t pass it on to someone else. The contract for the job had been long, but Hermione had followed so many other leads that there would be so many opportunities for growth in this area of study. She was excited beyond belief about what was to come.

As eleven o’clock approached, the time came for her to head to the meeting room to deliver her presentation. She knew most of the board members but there were a few new ones she had yet to meet, or even come to know by name.

She walked into the meeting room and was stunned when she came face to face with the 4 board members who would determine her fate. She had expected more. Three she knew about, and one she felt instantly sick at the sight of.

“Miss Granger, how lovely to see you again” said Mr Thompson, the senior wizard in charge of the program.

“Mr Thompson, it’s a pleasure” she said shaking his hand. “Mr Darius, Miss Fruly…” she said, making her way around the room, “And Mr Malfoy. Such a surprise” she said, shaking the hand of Draco Malfoy.

She immediately felt that this would be a complete waste of time. If Malfoy was part of the committee deciding whether to support muggle rights, this presentation did not stand a chance. Surely he was here to tear it down. Someone to stand for the opposing team.  

“Oh, you two know each other, fabulous” said Mr Thompson.

“Miss Granger and I attended Hogwarts together, the same year in fact” Malfoy said.

“Oh, right, that’s right. How silly of me to forget. Terrible times, terrible” he muttered.

“Mr Thompson, if you’d rather, we can do this another time? Perhaps when there is someone, ahem, more suitable to make such decisions?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, but Miss Granger, don’t you know? Mr Malfoy has been overseeing the campaign in the US to aid the plight of the muggle-borns. It’s been a phenomenon, truly” he said.

At this, Hermione was shocked. She imagined that her face resembled a fish out of water, gasping for breath. She was completely thrown. Draco Malfoy, campaigning for muggle rights? Never in a million centuries.

Nevertheless, within minutes, she had launched into her presentation, not faltering on a single thing despite Draco Malfoy staring at her intently, the whole time.

“So you see, with all of the things I mentioned and with the assistance of your suggestions of course, we can implement a strict minimum sentence of one full year in Azkaban for any crime against muggle borns or half-blood witches and wizards” she concluded.

“Fabulous”

“Fantastic”

“So insightful”

Came the voices of the members. Malfoy just sat in silence, his fingertips pressed together, elbows resting on the table.

Hermione sat at the table, ready to receive feedback. She was interested to know what Malfoy thought, given his history. She felt that it was odd that he was heading up the campaign in the United States, given that he always hated muggle borns.

“If you could give us a few moments, Miss Granger” Mr Thompson said.

Hermione nodded and left the room, standing in the corridor listening to their hushed conversation through the door. Their first impressions seemed to be positive. There was no way they could refuse to continue to support Hermione’s work.

“Miss Granger, if you please” called Mr Thompson from the doorway after several minutes.

Hermione re-entered the room and stood at the head of the table.

“Now, I must congratulate you on a well thought out, excellently put together presentation. Your information was succinct and insightful. It is an overwhelming positive response to your proposal” he said. Hermione was elated to hear that her hard work had paid off.

“To have accomplished all you have in 12 months in this role leaves us quite pleased. We had initially aimed to finance this position for three years, as you know…” he continued.

Hermione was excited to learn where the job might take her next. She had worked extremely hard to make sure everything she wanted for muggle borns would come to fruition, but wanted to do so quickly, not in the three years they had indicated.

…and for that reason, Miss Granger, we have no reason to continue the position you are currently employed in” Mr Thompson said.

Hermione was silent for a moment before she realised what he said.

“Wait, are you saying that I don’t have a job?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, Miss Granger, the position has run its course. If you had taken three years to complete the task as originally planned, then you would be in the position until it was completed. We didn’t foresee this situation” he said.

“I worked hard for this. I spent time away from my children to get this done. I thought there would be other ideas to pursue. I had a contract” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

“That is true Miss Granger, however, the contract does not stipulate a timeframe, just a workload. The work is complete Miss Granger” Mr Thompson said.

“As a token of our gratitude…” Malfoy began, “We will pay you the equivalent to one year’s pay at the same rate you have been paid already” he said.

Hermione was seething. She didn’t want a payout, nor was she looking for some kind of mercy gift from Malfoy of all people.

There were so many thoughts going around in Hermione’s head, but she knew better than to let her emotions get the better of her.

“That is quite reasonable of you, thank you all” she said after a moment.

“Shall we call this meeting to a close then?” asked Miss Fruly, the witch who hadn’t spoken till now.

“We’ll be in touch to finalise your payment and of course let you know when the mandatory sentencing law has been passed. With your extraordinary work, there is nothing to hold it back” said Mr Thompson as he exited the room behind the two women.

This left Hermione alone with Malfoy. Something she wasn’t too keen on.

“Sorry if I’m not in the conversational mood, Malfoy” she said. “as it turns out, I now need to go and look for another job” she spat.

“I didn’t want this for you. You have truly revolutionised the way in which the law will be practiced. I hope you know that” he said.

“Oh like you care Malfoy. You’re a death eater in case you’ve forgotten” she said, regretting it immediately.

“Was. And haven’t been in a very long time” he said, lifting the sleeve of his jacket and revealing a deep scar on the white of his arm. 

“What… what happened? I thought it couldn’t be removed?” she asked, forgetting how much she hated him right now. The dark mark could not be removed by any methods of magic whatsoever. It was just another thing Voldemort had done to ensure lifelong servitude for his followers.

“I saw a muggle doctor. They took some skin from my thigh and… well, I’ll save you the gory details” he said, rolling his sleeve back down.

“I… well… I still think you’re despicable Malfoy. You made life hell for me on so many occasions. You’re probably heading back to the manor to laugh about this with your pure blood friends” Hermione spat. She was getting silly now. Her mouth was running well before her mind had a chance to think up something more appropriate.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. I thought I saw something in you, but clearly I was wrong” he said.

“What? Saw what?” she asked.

“That night at the club. I thought that maybe… Maybe the past was in the past, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t expect you to understand... I am sorry… about the job” he said, as he left the room.

Hermine sat at the table which had pieces of parchment spread out all across it and put her head in her hands. She had never been in a position where she was without a paid job. She had no idea what she would do. She slowly gathered up all the pieces of parchment and carried them back to her office. When she got to her desk, it had several large boxes on it with labels reading ‘research’.

Hermione laughed to herself, somewhat manically, about the fact that the hardest work she had ever completed in her life would be neatly and probably alphabetically stacked into these three boxes and she would then be without a job.

It was an odd arrangement that she would be paid out for a year’s work but if she was honest, she needed the money.

By the end of the day, she had packed her entire office and said goodbye to her colleagues. They were equally as shocked when Hermione told them she was leaving. They all promised to have lunch and see each other when they could but Hermine knew all too well that they wouldn’t. In times gone by, she had worked with people for ten years who had promised to keep in touch and as soon as she left, that was the end of their friendship.

The rest of the week went quite slow as Hermione spent the two days at home. She ventured out to the store once to buy some groceries but apart from that, she had nothing else to do.

Friday afternoon saw Ron pick up the children while Hermione stayed inside. She could not bring herself to face him. She was horrified at what she had done two weeks before.

Instead of taking up Ginny’s invitation to go out, Hermione stayed in, watching sappy movies and eating far too much bad food. She knew that she had worked hard for the body that she had, having spent hours upon hours of her time at the gym throughout her life. Her thirties were not a time to ignore the lessons she had learnt, but she felt that she was well within her rights to have a weekend of junk food.

She went to bed after midnight and slept till lunch time on Saturday. It was something she had ever done before.

On Sunday, she decided to make a list of all the things she would like to do with her time off and a strict timetable with dates, times and goals for herself. There was no way she was going to let herself get into a funk that she couldn’t get out of. She was Hermione bloody Granger.

By Sunday afternoon, Hermione had developed a plan that she felt was completely doable. It included volunteering at her children’s school and gym time as well as attending meetings at the Ministry of Magic and job hunting. She had no idea what she wanted to do, but she really felt like she could do with a change. Something different to make things interesting.

When the children returned home late that day, she decided to take them somewhere nice for dinner. In some ways, it was an apology for how she had been acting over the last week. She explained her work situation to her children who were very sympathetic to her feelings. Together, the family threw around some ideas about what Hemione might do next, where her career might take her and who she might meet. Rose suggested she apply to become minster of magic, however Hugo laughed hysterically, causing his fizzy drink to spill out of his nose.

The rest of the night was the best Hermione had had with her kids. They were truly amazing little people who she was so proud to have raised so far. They had faced challenges that even she had not at that age.

Over the following two weeks, Hermione worked in the school canteen, while thinking hard about what she might want to do with her life now. Once the children were at Hogwarts, the opportunities were endless. She could do anything, go anywhere. She could even sell up and move away. As long as she could get the children to and from Kings Cross Station every few months everything would be fine.

The last Thursday of the week before the children would return to Ron’s, Hermione attended a career meeting at the ministry of magic. There were loads of jobs on offer, but nothing that really stood out for Hermione. Most people were shocked to see the Hermione Granger attending a job expo. No one really knew much about her private life, but she was always seen to be a successful career woman.

During the expo, Hermione had been approached by several employers, looking to hire her for their departments. One of whom was her old boss, looking to get her back into her previous role. As much as she wanted to work again, she felt as though she had done as much as she could in that role and needed something new.

As she was leaving, Hermione almost bumped into someone she hadn’t seen in years.

“Mrs Weasley” came the elderly voice of Professor McGonagall.

“Oh professor, how lovely to see you again. Although I must admit, it is now Granger again” Hermione said.

“Oh Hermione, how sorry I am to hear that. I couldn’t possibly have imagined you and Mr Weasley being a perfect fit in the beginning but they do say opposites attract” she said

“They certainly do” Hermione said, not knowing what to say.

“Now, Ms Granger, I have an important question for you, if you will humour me for just a moment” she asked.

“Absolutely. Anything for my favourite professor” she said.

“We have had a staffing issue this year, getting ready for the new semester and I was hoping, well, actually, I was counting on you joining us as the muggle studies professor” she said, a look of desperation in her eyes.

“What? I mean, why… I’m surely not cut out for that role Professor. I have never taught before” Hermione said, shocked at the request.

“No no, never mind that. The curriculum is set, the classes practically run themselves, you just need to facilitate them” she offered. “And if you decide you like it, there’s an opportunity to continue and even promotional opportunities” she said.

“Promotional?”

“I’m not sprightly anymore Ms Granger, I need a successor” she said.

“Headmaster?”

“Indeed. You’d be perfect. All you need is a year or two at the school and you’ll qualify” she said.

“I couldn’t possibly…”

“You could. Please, think about it. I would love someone like you running that school” she said.

“I will. I will think about it” she said, hugging the frail old lady and leaving.

Could she be a professor? She certainly knew the subject matter, but did she have the ability to impart her wisdom onto students? Could she take on that responsibility? And the thought of Professor McGonagall wanting her to be headmaster in a year or two. That was surely not something Hermione had ever thought of. It was never an aspiration. Or could it be?

She took a long time to fall asleep that night, thinking about all the things in her life that would have to change if she were to take on the job as Hogwarts Professor. The dreams of being tortured did not come that night. Instead, she dreamt of the stone gargoyle and the circular office that Dumbledore had occupied so many years ago and then Professor McGonagall since then.

Before she knew it, it was Friday afternoon and she prepared her children for the weekend ahead. They were excited to go, as usual and were ready and waiting when Ron arrived.

She kissed her children goodbye and waved as they got into the car. She hadn’t planned to go out this weekend, but while she sat at home on her own, she felt as though she owed it to herself to give herself a fun night out. She had made a decision about her future and contacted McGonagall to confirm her position as the new muggle studies teacher. She hadn’t thought about how it would impact upon everything else in her life yet. She still had the whole summer to think. The next week would be the final week of primary education for her children and then they would have 6 weeks to get ready for Hogwarts. That would be plenty of time to come up with some ideas.

She contacted Ginny, but Ginny and Harry were having a night out together while Molly looked after the children. They were still so very much in love, sometimes it made Hermione jealous. None of her other friends were keen to go out, but Hermione didn’t let that deter her. She was a strong, independent single woman and she could go out all on her own.

By 8pm she was ready to go. She had one of her new dresses on that really accentuated her curves in the right places, and a pair of heels that were higher than she thought she could possibly walk in. But with a carefully placed stability charm and some practice, she was right to go.

She found herself standing outside the club alone, wondering if it would be appropriate to walk to the front of the line like before. She hesitated for a moment before she heard her name being called. The head security guard had called her forward and ushered her inside before she could contemplate lining up. She felt like royalty. It unnerved her. The ‘Golden Trio’ thing had gradually started to wear off years ago and Hermione wanted to be just like everybody else. Although, in this situation, she wouldn’t say no.

She entered the club, which appeared to have already been pumping for a while. She didn’t go to the usual VIP area, as she had come alone and felt that it would be odd to sit there by herself. She glanced around the room, looking for someone she knew, but saw no one. She squeezed her way through the crowd to the bar and ordered a drink. She sat at a small table and drank her first two drinks while watching the crowd. There were a few people she knew who had come and said a quick ‘hello’, and a few people she purposely tried to avoid.

It was definitely a different experience, coming to the club alone and she thought that maybe she had made a mistake by coming. She ordered another drink when she finished the first and continued watching the crowd. The alcohol was not making her feel as it usually would and that irritated Hermione. She had come to like the way her brain switched off when she had been drinking. The way she didn’t think about why or how Ron had done her wrong. She definitely wanted to stop thinking about what happened with Ron last time she went out, so had yet another drink.

After her third drink, she made a trip to the bathroom, but when she returned to her table it was occupied. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed that it was Malfoy at the table and with hands on her hips and a slightly drunk attitude about her, she strutted up to the table.

*************************

“You’re in my seat” she said, standing there with her hand on her hip and a fresh drink in her hand.

“You left it” he said with a smirk.

“Only for a moment” she said.

“By all means, sit down” he offered.

“With you? I don’t think so” she said, skulling half of her drink at once.

“Woah there Granger slow down” he said.

“Why? Why should I slow down? Why should I listen to any advice you have to give?” she asked, beginning to speak with an intense attitude that only came about when she had been drinking.

“Because I know what can happen when you get wasted and can’t handle your liquor” he said.

“You think I can’t handle it?” she asked with a giggle. “You don’t know what I can handle, Malfoy” she added.

“Fine, I give in. Drink away” he said, raising his two hands up in the air in defeat.

“You’re not moving from my spot” she said.

“I didn’t say I was going to” he said.

“Fine, I’ll find some place else to sit” she said, walking away.

She couldn’t believe Malfoy of all people was being an ass to her, trying to lecture her about drinking after taking her table and not giving it back. She wandered around the club, past the VIP section, which was empty and quiet, and back towards where the table was. She hoped Malfoy would have left once she indicated that she was going elsewhere, but he was still there. Sipping on his drink, watching the crowd like some sort of creep.

“Won’t you just leave so I can have my seat back?” she asked.

“No, I quite like it here. You’re free to join me, of course” he said.

With a heavy sigh and a last look around the club in desperation for a table, Hermione sat at the opposite end of the table from him and stared out at the crowd.

After a moment, she finished her drink and sat it down. She hadn’t noticed Malfoy signal to the bartender for another drink and was surprised when two drinks appeared before them both.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“You’re clearly here to get wasted, so, I want to help” he said.

“That’s not…. I don’t want your help” she said, looking around for the bar tender to order another drink. When they were all busy, she picked up her drink with a sigh and took a sip.

“It’s nice, I guess” she said.

Malfoy just smiled. It threw Hermione. She hadn’t seen him look happy in years and years. Not that she had seen him since Hogwarts, but even then, he never smiled. Not really.

“You’re staring at me Granger” he said, shocking her out of her thoughts.

“No I’m not” she said, embarrassed that she was called out.

“Yes you are” he responded.

“Well, if you must know, I was interested in the way you just smiled. It’s bizarre” she said.

“Bizarre?” he asked.

“Yes, bizarre, odd, weird, strange, peculiar, abnormal, creepy” she said.

“You’re interested, but you think me smiling is bizarre?” he asked.

“Yes….” She said. “No. Well, I don’t know, it’s certainly unnerving” she added.

“Should I not?” he asked.

“Not?”

“Smile”

“No, smile if you like. I’m not going to stop you” she said.

“But its creepy?” he said with a smirk.

“Unnerving” she responded, smirking back.

Hermione sipped her drink for a while, wondering in what kind of universe would she ever sit across a table from Malfoy and sort of enjoy bantering with him. It was true, she was enjoying it. Certainly, she thought it would have to be the alcohol influencing her decision-making capacity and affecting her judgement. She would never talk with Malfoy like this and certainly never be caught pondering the way he smiled.

As she pondered that exact thing, she found herself hoping to see it again. It was nice, sort of. Malfoy was always such an arrogant ass at school and as far as she knew, still was. But there was something in his smile, a hint of something different that she couldn’t place. He seemed different, despite the very short conversation they had just had.

“So, Granger, what are you doing here all alone?” he asked, bringing her from her thoughts before she let herself go down a strange path.

“I might ask you the same thing” she said.

“I’m working” he answered.

She looked around and laughed.

“Working? Yeah, ok. On what? Being a perve?” she asked.

“A perve?”

“Yes, you’ve been checking out every single girl that had walked past and you’re drinking. Hardly working” she said.

“It’s all part of the job. Besides, I’m not checking them out, they’re far too young for me. I need someone my own age” he said, flashing that smile briefly.

“Surely the Draco Malfoy isn’t single?” she asked.

“All that and you ask if I’m single?” he asked.

“You’re impossible” she said with a sigh.

“Relax Granger, I’m looking to open my own club and am doing research. I come here alone so I can observe without distraction” he said.

Hermione didn’t say anything in response, just sipped her drink.

“And I am single” he added.

“I actually couldn’t care less if you were single, divorced, married or some kind of monk” she said.

“Well, I am married, technically, I suppose” he answered, looking serious and very far away in thought.

“You? Married?” she asked.

“Well, yes. She uh… It….” He began.

“She left you, didn’t she? Realised what a twat you are and left your sorry ass” Hermione asked.

“She died” he said.

Shit

“Merlin, way to make me feel like a complete insensitive twit” she said, feeling exactly that.

“You weren’t to know” he said in a serious tone, before taking a large swig of his drink.

“How, I mean… When did she…?” Hermione began. She felt strange asking, but for some reason, felt genuine concern and realised what she had seen behind his smile – pain.

“Did she die? Three years ago. She was giving birth to our daughter. They both died during the birth” he said.

“Oh Merlin, Malfoy I’m so sorry. How insensitive of me. I’m a complete twat” she said.

“Don’t worry about it, Granger. It was a long time ago now” he said, finishing his drink.

He stood and walked to the bar, leaving Hermione feeling incredibly sad for him.  Part of her felt like he deserved all the misery in the world because of the things he had been part of and the way he had treated her during their Hogwarts days, but for some reason, none of that was at the forefront of Hermione’s mind now. So many years had passed and it was beginning to seem to her that he might no longer the same person he once was.

She thought back to the other day in her office, the brief conversation she had with him.

‘That night at the club. I thought that maybe… Maybe the past was in the past’

What did he mean by that? She wondered. Was he different? Why had he tried so hard to be nice to her if he wasn’t?

She got up from her seat and walked to where he stood at the bar. Perhaps a little too close in her drunken state, as she now realised he smelt really good.

She watched as he ordered a drink for himself and looked over at the table where they sat, frowning.

“I’m behind you” she said.

He quickly turned and noticed her before turning back and ordering her a drink as well.

“I can get my own” she said.

“Well, you’re unemployed now, so I think I ought to” he said.

“Very funny… but I have just received a big fat cheque with a full year’s wages. I’m a capable woman” she said, taking the drink from him.

“You don’t want to save it? Maybe go on a holiday?” he asked.

“Don’t need to. I have a job all lined up in the coming months” she said with a smile. Again, why the hell was she talking to Malfoy? And why was it so easy?

She turned to go back to the table but as she approached, she realised that someone else had taken it.

“You going to ask them to leave as well?” he asked, talking quietly in her ear. It gave her goose bumps on the back of her neck.

She looked around the club for somewhere else to go and spotted just the place.

“No, I’m not. They can have it” she said, walking away.

When she had walked a few steps, she turned and realised he wasn’t following.

“Are you coming?” she asked.

“I’m invited, am I?” he asked.

“Don’t make me ask again” she said, turning and walking towards the VIP area.

“You didn’t actually ask me to join you” he said.

“I asked if you were coming. It’s the same thing” she said.

They arrived at the deserted VIP area and Hermione carefully stepped over the red velvet rope, while Malfoy removed it, stepped through and placed it back.

“Smart” she said, sitting down on the comfy lounge.

“I think these lounges could be dangerous” he said, taking the seat diagonal from her in the U-shaped booth.

“How so?” she asked with a giggle, wondering if he was talking about people having sex here. That thought made her think of what happened with her and Ron and she shook her head.

“People who drink heavily could pass out here. It could be quite embarrassing for them” he said. “What were you thinking?” he asked with that smile.

“Oh, nothing. The same as you probably” she said.

The gap in the middle of the table, which was empty before, now contained a familiar bottle of mead and two goblets appeared on the table.

“This place wants us to get very drunk” she said, indicating to the bottle.

“Just Longbottom’s way of making money” he said.

“Making money? This just appears here for free” she said.

“Well, yes, it does. But it entices you to stay and utilise the other services here. Ergo, spending money” he said.

“Ergo?” she asked.

“Ergo” he repeated.

Hermione laughed quietly to herself, wondering where he had picked up the muggle word.

“That’s nice” he said.

“What is?” she asked.

“You laughing. You haven’t done much of that, I’ve noticed” he said.

“You’ve been watching me? That’s kind of creepy” she said.

“You were grinding all up on me the first night you came here. Don’t talk to me about being a creep” he said.

“Well, forgive me if I had no idea who you were. I never would have danced with you, had I known you were you” she said.

“Great for my ego, that” he said.

“Well, your ego is fairly large I suppose it could handle a beating or two” she said, sipping her drink.

The two were quiet for a while before anybody spoke again.

“I’m not the same person I was, you know” he said.

“I don’t know” she answered.

“You’re sitting here, talking to me, you accepted a drink form me. You must have an inkling” he said.

“I’m drunk” she shrugged.

“It took me a long time to come to terms with the things I had done. The things I said. All those stupid things I did” he said.

“How did you?” she asked, genuine curiosity peaking its head.

“I don’t know to be honest. After Potter vouched for me and my mother and saved us from Azkaban, we went abroad, changed our names, worked, met some people, moved again and ended up in the States” he said.

“So you just moved around a lot and BAM you’re cured of pure blood idiocy? I don’t buy it” she said.

“I saw so many things during the war. I did so many things too that I’m not proud of. Things I would take back in a heartbeat. Things I would give my life to take back. But I can’t. All I can do is change the way others see things, try to make it up to the people that matter, somehow” he said.

Hermione was dumbfounded.

“Like what?” she asked.

“Things I did?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Dumbledore for a start. That is the worst. I sat by and watched people get killed. I stood by and watched you scream for mercy as my… as she…” he began. Hermione noticed tears prick his eyes in the dim lighting of the club.

Hermione didn’t know what to say. She had hated this person, this man, her whole life, but now here he was, sitting alone with her in this club, declaring to her how much he has changed. She absentmindedly rubbed the scar of her arm, as she always did whenever the subject came up.

“I really hoped that one day I would come face to face with you and you’d give me the opportunity to explain myself... I was brought up with these ideas. These stupid ideas that were completely untrue. But I had no way to know otherwise. I was young and dumb and completely guided by my father, who was also brought up by his father who was brought up the same way. I idolised my father for so long, thinking he was right and everyone else was wrong. It wasn’t till I started seeing all the bad things that I realised how wrong he was” he continued. “I guess, what I really want you to know is that I’m sorry Granger. I’m sorry for everything” he said.

Hermione was gobsmacked. Even in her drunken state she knew a heartfelt apology when she heard one.  But was it enough to overcome everything he had done? Seven years of abuse and torture, taking part in the death of Dumbledore, regardless of whether or not Dumbledore was in on it or not. That was a lot to forgive with just one apology.

She shook her head, forgetting the words he had said and trying to focus on his actions. Had he done anything to make her believe he was lying? In fact, when she thought about it, everything he had done since she ran into him a few weeks ago was indicating that he had changed.

“I forgive you. I just… its hard to change the way I have thought about you my whole life” she said.

“Oh trust me, I know” he said with a smirk.

“So now that you don’t consider me to be a mudblood anymore, what am I?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, am I someone you went to school with? Am I your enemy? Colleague? What?” she asked.

“Merlin Granger, I don’t know. Its like I’ve just met you for the first time. I don’t know who you are” he said.

“I can take that” she said.

They both sipped their drinks for a while, taking in everything that just happened. Hermione and Malfoy had somehow reset the clock on everything they ever knew about each other. For Hermione, she could just as easily get up and leave, find some place else to sit and never talk to him again, but there was something intriguing about him, something that held her there. She wanted to know more.  While she was contemplating this and watching a drunk couple of the dancefloor getting a bit too close for viewing comfort, Malfoy spoke.

“So now you know my story, how about you? How does Hermione Granger get to be a single woman at the age of…” he began.

“I’ll stop you right there. You don’t need to know my age” she said, grateful to take her gaze off the couple and her thoughts off just about everything else.

“We’re the same age” he said.

“Yes, well… A lady never reveals her age” she said.

“I know your age. You’re not revealing anything” he said.

“Fine, you know my age. Just don’t say it out loud” she said, rolling her eyes.

“So…” he said.

“So, there’s not much to tell” she said.

“There is something though, right?” he asked.

“Well, yes there is, but it’s nothing like yours” she said.

“Enlighten me” he said.

“Ron and I were married” she said.

“Weasley?”

“Yes, Ron Weasley”

“So I should call you Weasley, not Granger?” he asked with a smirk.

“No, most definitely not. I didn’t even want to take his name when we married” she said.

“Why not? That’s the proper way to do it” he said.

“Firstly, there is no proper way to do it. Secondly, I wanted to stay true to who I was. I didn’t want to become part of him, I wanted to stay me. I wanted to stay Hermione Granger. But he talked me into it” she said.

“So what happened?” he asked.

“It didn’t work out” she said, skipping over all of the details she was ashamed of.

“So you just woke up one day and decided you’d had enough?” he asked.

Hermione let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Should she tell him and risk him making fun of her for it? Would he? He seemed so different. Could she tell him this? She felt like if she revealed this about her life, it was as though she was letting him in. Could she? Should she? In this moment, she wasn’t certain she actually cared. So she did.

“He cheated” she said.

“On you?” he asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

“Yep” she said, taking a large drink from her glass and reaching for the bottle of mead and yanking on the cork.

Malfoy picked up the two goblets and reached for the bottle when Hermione couldn’t open it.

“With who?” he asked, popping the bottle at once and expertly pouring the liquid into the goblets.

“Some young dumb blonde bimbo, who clearly has excellent taste in style, clothing and furnishings” she said.

“I sense a story” he said.

“You’re not getting one. It’s embarrassing” she said.

“Now I’m intrigued” he said.

“When did you get so demanding?” she asked.

“I’ve always been this way. Only now, I’m not an asshole” he said.

“Oh, that is still to be seen” she said.

“You’re deflecting” he said.

“I’m not, I just don’t want to tell you” she said.

“You can trust me” he said, looking directly at her. It was the first time she had noticed his grey eyes. She looked into his eyes and saw his truth. She felt, at that moment that she could trust him. So she opened up.

“The first night I came out here was the first night that he had custody of our twins… Eleven year old, boy and girl, Rose and Hugo” she added when she saw his shock.

“Twins, right. Continue” he said, nodding.

“So Ginny, found out about this place and brought me here, four weeks ago. That’s the first time I had been out since I had the twins” she said.

“First time in eleven years?” he asked.

“Yes. I always had care of my children. I never went anywhere without them” she said.

“So this must be a big deal for you then?” he asked.

“Not really. The custody arrangements took a long time to process and I had a lot of help to come to terms with it all” she said.

“So I don’t get it. Where’s the story?” he asked.

“I’m getting to that. So I had so much fun on the first night that I wanted to do it again the following fortnight. I came out, but it didn’t feel the same. There were couples everywhere, everyone was all over everyone else and I just began to miss the feeling of having someone close, you know? So I went to Ron’s place” she said.

“Ohhh” Malfoy said as he sat forward, hanging on her every word.

“Well, one thing led to another, and I was very very drunk. I snuck into his bed and.... So... I’m not proud of it, but I’m only human” she said.

Malfoy smiled, sipping his drink.

“Then he tells me that he is actually in a relationship with the blonde bimbo that he cheated on me with” she said.

“So he cheated on her with you, after he cheated on you with her? Makes sense. Go on” he said.

“Well anyway, I had noticed that Ron had changed a little in the last few weeks, you know, new clothes, new hair all that. And his house was beautiful. I thought he had a designer come in and decorate or something. Then it all clicked…” she said.

“It was her?” he asked.

“It was all her” she said.

“Are you jealous?” he asked after a pause.

“No, I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know” she said.

“Do you want him back?” he asked.

“Oh, no. I thought I did, for about a minute and a half… But now, no way” she said.

“So, what’s the problem?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I guess I was just hoping that… I don’t know. I could depend on Ron. You know, for when I get lonely” she said, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“You don’t need to depend on Weasel when you’re lonely. You could have the pick of any man here tonight… or any night” Malfoy said.

“Well, thanks, but I doubt it” she said.

“Doubt it all you want, but I saw you weeks ago, you had every single guy in here drooling over you. You still do” he said.

“No way” she said.

“Look around Granger” he said.

She did look around and saw the subtle signs of people turning away as she glanced their way. Was she really attracting guys? Could she? Could she find someone to curb the lonely feelings?

“Were you?” she asked, hoping he’d know what the question was about.

“Was I? What? Drooling over you? Absolutely” he said, honestly.

“Why?” She asked.

“You were sexy as fuck. You were so free and dancing around like you didn’t have a care in the world. I didn’t recognise you at first and was gobsmacked when I did, but you know what? I’m a hot-blooded man and I know what I like when I see it” he said.

“That’s very… honest of you” she said, taking a large swig of her drink.

“I’m not sorry” he said.

“I don’t want you to be” she said, suddenly realising that maybe, she would like it if Malfoy could curb the loneliness sometime. “You want to dance?” she asked him after a prolonged silence.

“I suppose I could take a spin around the dancefloor” he said.

Hermione felt oddly nervous, walking out to the dancefloor. She had felt the heat rise in her chest when they had spoken about how he found her sexy and then again when she thought about him in that way as well.

They found a spot amongst the other club goers and started to dance. Hermione felt awkward at first, but eventually found her groove and began to move with the beat. She was actually having fun dancing her cares away for a long time before her overly cautious drunken mind betrayed her.

Every time she looked at him, was reminded that he was the same Malfoy that she went to Hogwarts with. The same Malfoy who stood by and watched as his aunt torture her in his home. The same Malfoy who she punched in the nose for callously laughing at the impending slaughter of the innocent Buckbeak. All of this, all these thoughts and reminders were despite the apology and the explanation he had provided over the course of the last hour or so.

The more she reminded herself about all of this, the more she felt like this was a stupid mistake. She stopped dancing and shook her head as she walked off the dancefloor, back to the VIP area where she had left her purse and shoes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her, having followed her back to the lounge.

“I can’t do this, it’s completely wrong” she said, gathering up her things.

“What is? Do what?” he asked.

“I can’t sit here and have a friendly conversation, tell you all about my life, think about you in that way and dance with you, as though nothing ever happened. As though you didn’t make my life a living hell for 6 years and as though… As though your family wasn’t responsible for years of fucking nightmares that I had to endure” she said, tears now pricking her eyes.

She felt like a silly witch, letting all this out now. He had given her a heart felt apology that she had accepted. She pondered it, she thought about it, she understood where he had come from, but somehow, only an hour or so later, her mind was back to square one. It had been years, but the thought of the nightmares still made her weak, physically and emotionally.

By now, she had gathered her things and was heading for the disapparation point.

“Granger, wait…” he called after her.

“I can’t. This was all a dumb mistake” she said.

“I don’t think that it was. I had a good time” he said.

“So did I, but you’re still you and I’m still me” she said.

“I’m different. I promise. I don’t know what else to tell you. Let me take you out. For real. I’ll tell you everything. Everything you could ever want to know” he said.

“I don’t think so” she said, cutting in the front of the line.

Malfoy took a piece of parchment out of his pocket. It appeared to be some sort of business card. He handed it to her as she took her place at the point.

“Just text me. Muggle style. Let me show you” he said.

Hermione had no idea what to do. If she should tell him yes or stick to her guns and drop his card. She held onto it and turned on the spot, finding herself standing in her living room within seconds.

She stood on the spot for a moment, taking in what had happened. She had a good night. In fact, she had a great night. The conversation with Malfoy flowed well. She actually enjoyed his company. But she couldn’t help the feeling she had, every time she looked at him. The memories, the thoughts. He had been a death eater. The absolute definition of her mortal enemy. She didn’t care what he did to get rid of the scar, you can’t just turn that off. Could you?

She undressed and showered clumsily, affected by the alcohol she had consumed. It was 4 in the morning before she laid down in bed and as she felt herself drift off to sleep, she was certain she had seen the first rays of daylight peak through the window.