Chapter 2
Hermione checked her watch, untied and retied her left shoe, and then checked her watch again. Daphne had invited her along to a New Year’s Eve party hosted by some Wizengamot member Hermione didn’t know. She had offered to pick Daphne up, and she was trying to avoid arriving too early, but frustratingly, time had completely stopped the moment she was ready to go.
No dress for her tonight. Especially after Daphne’s comments about her work attire last week, she was determined to show Daphne her versatility on this date. Date. Her date with Daphne Greengrass. She laughed to herself at the absurdity of the situation. This did count as a date, escorting her to a party, right? Surely.
She checked her appearance in the mirror once more, brushing out invisible wrinkles in her shirt and trousers.
Would this make the papers, this date? Usually if she went in public with someone, there was an article about it. She’d given up any hope of real privacy after all these years. But Daphne never appeared in the papers. Clearly there was some sort of unwritten rule about keeping the Greengrasses private business, well, private. Hermione would exercise this option if she had it as well.
She loved her friends, but she was pleased they wouldn’t be attending tonight.
“You? Daphne Greengrass asked you out?” Ginny had been flabbergasted when she told them about this arrangement.
“Well, I am Hermione Granger! Golden girl, war hero. Is that really so hard to believe?”
“Yes,” Harry and Ginny had answered in unison.
“Well done, Hermione.” Ron patted her enthusiastically on the back. “First Krum, now Daphne. You’ll have to give me a few tips sometime.”
“Tip number one,” Ginny said. “Stop drooling and close your mouth. We are not codfish.”
When she decided she had waited long enough, she apparated directly from her flat to a quiet alley near Daphne’s building. She’d scoped it out the day before to verify there wouldn’t be any travel issues. The building Daphne lived in looked like any other muggle block of flats, from the buzzer on the outside of the building to the lift ride to Daphne’s floor. This seemed a bit odd for a pureblood residence, but Hermione found it refreshing.
When Daphne opened the door, all thoughts of living arrangements flew out of Hermione’s mind while she tried to remember how to breathe. Daphne wore a black dress tonight, and her hair was up rather than down. The dress was a bit tighter (and the heels a little higher) than the previous week, and Hermione wondered if this was because of the nature of the party or for Hermione’s benefit. She hoped it was because of her.
“Hi,” she said dumbly.
Daphne smiled. “Hello, again. Just let me grab my coat.” She wandered off, but left the door open. Hermione peeked inside. It looked like any other flat from here. The door opened into a living area; there was a small kitchen on one side, and two doorways on the other. It was modest. Daphne returned, and closed and locked the door behind them.
“Are we not apparating from here?” Hermione asked curiously.
“No, we aren’t apparating at all actually. The host doesn’t live far, but it’s a neighborhood I’ve never been to. We’ll have to take a cab.”
“Oh, alright. You know, I’d like to say something about how good you look, but given that may come across as a routine compliment…” Hermione trailed off with a smirk.
“That’s just as well,” Daphne smiled. “All my comments about how you look would be highly censorable.”
Hermione’s cheeks felt extra warm while they waited for a cab in the cold night air.
The house the party was held at was much more in line with what Hermione had expected from a wealthy wizard. It looked like a normal house from the outside, but was enormous on the inside.
“Daphne, I’m so glad you could make it,” a rosy cheeked wizard greeted, kissing her on each cheek. “And Hermione Granger, at my New Year’s Eve party! I’m so honoured.” He grasped her hand in both of his and shook it enthusiastically. His grip was warm. “I’m Phillip. Please, come in. Let me take your coats.”
Hermione gave him her coat and took a few steps into the home, glancing curiously around. She could hear chattering throughout the dimly lit place, lights twinkling about festively. She turned back and saw Phillip whispering something to a blushing Daphne while he took her coat. Daphne swatted at him, and he chuckled. It was fascinating to see Daphne engage like this, playfully with friends. It was something she was never privy to back at Hogwarts. Daphne had always looked a bit taciturn. She wondered what else she didn’t know about the woman.
“He seems nice,” Hermione said honestly when Daphne rejoined her.
“He is,” she smiled. “He’s the first person to make me feel welcome when I joined the Wizengamot, actually.”
They weren’t 10 paces into the gathering area when Daphne froze. “Oh, no,” she muttered. She grasped Hermione’s arm and looked around quickly, but before she could find an escape, an older woman had swallowed her up in a large embrace.
“Daphneeeeee, my deeeeear! How aaaare you?” the woman asked with a bit of a slur. She was wearing large purple robes and smelled of perfume that was so strong, Hermione had to physically resist coughing. “It’s been sooo long; you never come ‘round any*hiccup*more.”
Daphne emerged from the bearhug looking a bit disheveled. “But don’t you recall? I saw you just last week, Mrs. Dowson,” she said politely while trying to fix any errant strands of hair.
“Yesss, but I used to see you every day, dear! Jeffrey asks for you every day when he drops off my lunch dear, you just say the word and I’ll have him owl you, I know you would make such a… Hermione Granger! As I live and breathe!” the woman turned, finally noticing her.
Hermione, too, found herself swallowed up in an embrace. The perfume smell was absolutely suffocating when you were in it, she found. “Why Miss Granger, are you here escorting our Daphne, that is so lovely,” she stumbled slightly, and righted herself with Hermione’s shoulder. The alcohol on her breath burned Hermione’s eyes.
“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” Hermione tried, extending her hand, but Mrs. Dowson’s eyes had wandered away.
The woman snatched a glass off a passing waiter’s tray and took a large swig, but spat it out promptly. “What the bloody hell is this?” She wiped her mouth with a handkerchief disgustedly.
“I believe it’s water, Mrs. Dowson,” Daphne said somberly, but her eyes were sparkling with mirth when she looked at Hermione.
Hermione bit her lip to prevent a bark of laughter from escaping.
Daphne hooked an arm through Hermione’s and led her away while Mrs. Dowson was still sputtering. “Sorry about that,” she said in a hushed voice. “I promise not everyone here will be like that.”
“And I thought my friends were embarrassing,” Hermione teased.
“Your friends are embarrassing,” she laughed. The sound gave Hermione butterflies. “But I like them. And frankly, most of these people are not my friends.”
“No? Then why did you want to come?” Hermione asked curiously. They found a quiet corner to sip champagne, and Hermione noticed Daphne futzing with one of her earrings, a dangly thing that Mrs. Dowson’s hug had apparently gotten tangled in her hair. “Here, let me,” she offered, handing Daphne her flute.
“Thanks.” Daphne gave her a self-conscious smile. She saw Daphne’s throat bob with a swallow when she stepped closer, and felt hot breath on her arm when she reached for the earring. “I wasn’t particularly keen on coming, to be honest,” Daphne answered quietly. “But given it’s my first year on the Wizengamot, I felt I should. And I owe it to Phillip. Having a beautiful date has certainly helped.”
Hermione’s eyes darted over to meet Daphne’s instinctively. “All fixed,” she said with a deep, shaky breath, stepping out of Daphne’s personal space. She wondered if Daphne had been able to hear her heart pounding.
“I enjoyed your paper on the treatment of nogtails,” Daphne said. They’d been sitting and chatting about work for some time. “I’m sorry to say I’d never really given them much thought prior to that. Are you attempting to change some of the Pest Division’s policies within your department?”
“You read my paper on nogtails?” Hermione asked in surprise.
“Of course. I’ve read everything you’ve published.”
Hermione frowned in confusion. “I’ve been publishing my research for 5 years.”
“And I’ve been reading your research for 5 years,” Daphne smiled.
“But why? I never thought you were particularly fond of me.”
“Oh, I’m very- I am fond of you,” Daphne fumbled her words uncharacteristically. “You’ve always made me a bit nervous is all, and I’m not used to that.”
“I’ve made you nervous?” Hermione asked incredulously.
“Infuriatingly,” Daphne sighed dramatically, but smiled. “I had quite the crush on you in school, you know.”
“What?!” Hermione exclaimed, quickly glancing around to see if she’d drawn any attention, then repeated in a softer voice, “What? But you never… You never spoke to me. You never looked at me. In fact, there was a time in sixth year Astronomy when we were partnered up, and the second I came up and told you, you went out of your way to request a different partner.”
“You remember that?” Daphne asked with a furrowed brow.
“Oh course I remember that! I was crushed,” Hermione said, belatedly adding, “And also it was the only time we ever spoke until last month.”
Daphne’s eyes widened. “Why were you crushed? I didn’t think you’d want to work with me.”
Hermione hesitated before answering, fighting with her pride. “I went to Professor Sinistra and specifically requested to partner with you.” She felt heat crawling up her neck. “It was a bit embarrassing when you then went right back to her and requested a swap.”
“Hermione…” Daphne started, breaking off. She put a hand on Hermione’s leg, and it took all of Hermione’s self control not to look down at it. “I had no idea. Why on earth would you ask to work with me? I thought… but I was a Slytherin.”
“So?” Hermione asked defensively. “You thought I couldn’t look beyond house?”
Daphne looked somewhat guilty at this. “Yes, I suppose I did.”
“Well, you were mistaken,” Hermione said shakily, trying not to pay attention to Daphne’s thumb which had begun moving back and forth against her thigh.
“I tried so hard to get better marks than you,” Daphne admitted. “I thought if I could make you mad… I don’t know what I thought. Why’d you want to work with me?”
“Because I liked you too, you prat,” Hermione chastised.
Daphne looked at her for a moment in stunned silence. When she began to laugh, Hermione caught it and laughed with her. “When I said you made me nervous, what I meant was, I was terrified of you,” Daphne admitted.
“Terrified of me?” Hermione asked. “I don’t understand.”
“You were a little bit scary, back then. In a good way! Usually,” she teased. “You’re still a bit scary, actually.”
“I’ve been told,” Hermione couldn’t stop her wide smile. It was making her cheeks hurt. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“I’ve been hoping you would.” Daphne squeezed her thigh playfully, and Hermione’s butterflies returned.
“You said you were dumped by a muggle back in school. How exactly did you even meet a muggle to date?”
“I met her at an equestrian program I was in over the summer holiday.”
Hermione blinked. “You dated a horse girl?”
“I’m not sure what that means,” Daphne said with a frown.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m teasing you.” Hermione laughed, boldly reaching down and grasping the hand still on her leg. “Your parents didn’t mind you dating a muggle?”
“Not at all. My uncle’s a muggle. They were more surprised about the girl part, I think,” she winked.
“You started the annual muggle soup kitchen,” Hermione said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“You never… I didn’t know that. I volunteered at it, and I still didn’t know. Your name isn’t associated with it anywhere. Why is that?”
Daphne shrugged. “I’m not big on self-congratulation. That’s not what it’s about.”
“What is it about?” she asked.
Daphne sat in thought for a moment, and Hermione squeezed her hand affectionately.
“If someone is in need of something, and I’m equipped to help, isn’t it then my duty?” Daphne finally answered with a question.
Hermione clenched her teeth. Isn’t that what she’s been saying all these years? Isn’t that why she joined the magical creatures department? Does someone finally understand? She pulled Daphne’s hand fully into her lap and held it with both of hers. “I’m glad you talked to me that day in the lift.”
Daphne finished her glass of champagne after Hermione, and set her empty flute on a table. She placed an arm around Hermione’s waist, a delicate hand on Hermione’s hip, and led her away from the group they’d been chatting with.
“Would you like to dance with me?” Daphne murmured into her hair.
Hermione hesitated, deciding to be honest. “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything.” A thumb shifted against Hermione’s hip.
“I’ve never danced with a woman before,” she swallowed.
“Nor have I,” Daphne smiled.
“Doesn’t that make you nervous? Aren’t you worried you’ll look stupid?”
“Well… no, not really,” Daphne shrugged.
“Your self-confidence is extraordinary,” Hermione smirked. “You’re somewhat egotistical, you know.”
Daphne laughed. “I just don’t mind if I look a bit stupid, if I get to dance with you.”
A hand squeezed her waist, and Hermione nodded dumbly. “Yeah, okay.” Very eloquent, Hermione.
Daphne released her and held out a hand, which Hermione took eagerly. Daphne led her to the rooftop where Phillip had set aside space for people to dance under the stars. It was snowing, but there was a protective charm to keep it away from them – warm and dry, but still able to watch it fall around them.
Daphne led her out amongst the other couples and lifted Hermione’s hands to her shoulders. “You can be the girl,” she winked. She placed her arms around Hermione’s waist and pulled her close.
This wasn’t as awkward as Hermione had expected. And Daphne was right. If they looked stupid, she found she didn’t care. All she cared about was the intoxicating smell of Daphne’s perfume, and the green eyes looking at her the way she’d always hoped they would. She teased the hairs that had become dislodged from Daphne’s up-do at the back of her neck, and Daphne shivered.
“That tickles,” Daphne whispered, laughing softly. She pulled Hermione’s body flush against her own, placing her forehead against the side of Hermione’s. Hermione felt hot breath against her neck, and her heart attempted to beat out of her chest.
“I’m so glad you said yes,” Daphne whispered into her ear.
“I’m so glad you asked,” Hermione said. It came out as more of a whimper than she’d intended. She wrapped her arms more tightly around Daphne and buried her face into the taller woman’s neck.
“Two minutes to midnight!” Phillip’s voice called from the door to the rooftop after they’d danced through a few songs. “We’re cheersing downstairs; I’ve got a telly on!”
Murmurs of excited witches and wizards erupted at the news of a muggle television, and everyone began making their way back inside.
“Would you like to go inside with the others?” Hermione asked, pulling away slightly.
“Not particularly,” Daphne gave her a crooked smile. “Would you?”
“No,” Hermione said definitively. “I have everything I want right here.”
Daphne took a shaky breath and leaned in, but Hermione held a finger up to her lips to stop her. “You have to wait until midnight. It’s tradition.”
“Bossy,” Daphne groaned with a smirk.
“I hope you don’t have a problem with that,” Hermione raised a brow. “I’m frequently bossy.”
“I like it,” Daphne whispered into her ear, and Hermione felt her cheeks burn. She buried her face in Daphne’s neck and continued to sway with her until they heard the countdown begin.
10…
9…
8…
Hermione pulled Daphne off the dancefloor by the hand.
7…
6…
5…
She gently pressed Daphne up against the wall by the door.
4…
3…
Daphne’s mouth opened, taking in small gasps.
2…
Daphne grasped the front of Hermione’s shirt in a fist and pulled her in.
1…
“Happy New Year,” Hermione whispered against Daphne’s lips before capturing them softly with her own.
Daphne let a soft moan escape, and a shiver ran through Hermione’s entire body. She reached a hand into Daphne’s hair and pulled her closer. She ran her tongue along Daphne’s bottom lip and Daphne opened her mouth obediently. Their tongues danced with palpable electricity, and Daphne yanked the back of Hermione’s shirt up out of her trousers. She slid her hand up Hermione’s back eagerly, and Hermione pulled away before it went too far.
“Would you like to have dinner with me this week?” Hermione asked breathlessly.
Daphne looked at her wantingly, pupils dilated, and smirked. “Hermione,” she whispered against her ear. “I’d like to have breakfast with you in the morning.”