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Time's Up	By : Gotbooks00 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Blaise Views: 23286 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I own many things, but not any recognizable characters, things, or places in the Harry Potter series. Somehow, I doubt that JKR would agree to joint custody…shame, that. Also, no profit is being made from the writing or posti

Chapter List
- 1-Time's Up
- 2-TWO
- 3-THREE
- 4-FOUR
- 5-FIVE
- 6-SIX
- 7-SEVEN
- 8-EIGHT
- 9-NINE
- 10-TEN
- 11-ELEVEN
- 12-TWELVE
- 13-THIRTEEN
- 14-FOURTEEN
- 15-FIFTEEN
- 16-SIXTEEN
- 17-SEVENTEEN
- 18-EIGHTEEN
- 19-NINETEEN
- 20-TWENTY
- 21-TWENTY ONE
- 22-TWENTY TWO
- 23-TWENTY THREE
- 24-TWENTY FOUR
- 25-TWENTY FIVE
- 9
- 10
- 11
Time’s Up, by Gotbooks93

Summary: After successfully hiding the existence of her son for eight years, Hermione is out of luck and out of time. When the father of her child discovers her secret, their quiet worlds are changed forever. Will things become better, or worse? Join Hermione as she finds out.

CHAPTER TEN

Perched on coastline of Whales, Shell Cottage overlooked the vast stretch of sea. With whitewashed walls and blue- painted shutters, it made a picturesque image for all who looked upon it. It was a clear, bright day, perfect for a Weasley family gathering.

When Hermione and Xander had arrived at Shell Cottage the next morning, the pair waded through the crowd of friends and acquaintances, noting that the assembled group was almost identical to the one found at James Potter’s birthday several weeks prior. One new face, however, belonged to the sweet, bubbly American witch sitting on the corner.

Invited along by Pansy and Ginny, Amanda Jones was a wonderful source of amusement to the assembled children. While the kids waited their allotted half hour after eating to go swim, they bombarded ‘Mandy’ with words for her to say. The girl would obediently drawl out the phrases, much to the hilarity of the assembled youngsters. When Molly Weasley announced that it was acceptable to go swim, they quickly dismissed their prior source of entertainment, rushing down the sea-grass lined paths that lead to the ocean.

Xander, his arm caught by Hermione just before he made it out the door, was promptly escorted back to a kitchen chair. Although he and Teddy plead their case with a finesse that would have made Xander’s father proud, Hermione was resolute. Hermione had other plans for her son.

“Go on, Teddy. There’s no need for both of us to suffer.” Sighed Xander dramatically.

With his best mate’s blessing, Teddy promptly raced from the room, his hair going bright green in his excitement.

“Now, Miss Jones. Didn’t you say you were a hairdresser?” asked Hermione.

~(o)~

The hardwood floor was covered in dark, curly locks. Every few seconds, the quiet snip of the scissors would sound, and another lock joined the growing pile on the floor.

Xander, his mouth twisted into a dark scowl, sat stock- still on the kitchen chair, glaring at the wall in front of him. Through the open window, Hermione could hear the crash of the waves on the shoreline, accompanied by occasional shout of laughter. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Xander would rather be outside in the salty sea air, than sitting in the kitchen getting his long-overdue haircut.

When Xander turned his glower at his mother, Hermione hardly noticed. The woman behind the scissors had her attention instead. With strait, dark brown hair, blue- green eyes, and a lovely, peachy skin tone, Amanda Jones hardly fit the mold of her predecessors.

“Oh, don’t whine Alexander.” Mandy said taking a comb from her mouth. “Your momma just wants you to look as handsome as your Daddy.”

Mandy’s mention of Blaise made Hermione’s lips twist into a scowl, one not unlike the one her son wore. She knew this casual mention of Blaise would trigger an unwanted discussion, and she wasn’t disappointed.

“Speaking of Zabini, what’s going on?” asked Ginny, her voice too casual.

“Well, I’m trusting you all know what the Prophet reported is complete rubbish.” Said Hermione, turning herself to face the assembled adults in the room. While she would rather avoid the subject as a whole, this couldn’t be all bad.

‘The more people who hear the truth first hand from me, the more there will be to squash the rumors.’ She thought. And so, the questions began.

“So, was it a one-time thing?” asked George, smirking.

“Of course now! Blaise and I were together from the end of our sixth year, ‘till a few weeks before the war ended.” Hermione tried not to be too insulted by the implied character trait.

“Why keep it a secret?” said someone.

“How do you think people would have taken the news, especially considering the political and social climate at the time? A muggle- born girl and a boy whose name could be traced back for a million generations? We would have been the poster couple for ‘terrible things that happen when bloodlines mix.’”

“All right, fair enough, but surely you could have come out about it when the war ended?”

“It’s true, people probably would have taken it better after Voldemort fell, but I wasn’t afraid of public backlash, at that point. I was terrified of word getting back to Blaise, which it would have, and having to face him.” Hermione was seated at the head of the table, her friends and adopted family clustered around the edges.

She felt as if she was fielding a press conference, but overall, it was going quite well. The group peppered her with questions, and no one had suggested a man- hunt for Blaise…yet. “Why were you worried about Zabini finding out about Xander?” asked Bill.

Of the whole group, Hermione guessed that Bill cared the least about the whole ‘incident’, as Molly was calling it. He didn’t know Blaise at all, and he knew what it felt like to have one’s loved ones to be against a relationship. It had taken quite a while for his family to warm up to Fleur, after all.

“At the time, I was afraid he would take Xander away from me, or be angry that he had a mixed- blood child. Honestly, it seems a bit silly now. I mean, Blaise is so good with Xander, and he’s been great about working around our schedules.”

“Yeah, well, Zabini’s still a git.” Grumbled Ron, although Hermione suspected it was out of obligation rather than true malice.

“Speaking of schedule, have you two worked out a custody agreement, yet?” asked Ginny, elbowing her brother in his side.

“Not really, no. I suppose it will be a lot more necessary when school starts back up. Right now, it seems like neither of us have a sturdy enough schedule to build it on. I mean…” Hermione began to say more, and then stopped herself as she glanced at the faces around the table. Maybe it would be better to express her worries when cooler heads were present.

Apparently her thoughts showed upon her face. Charlie stood up and clapped his hands together. “Well, I suppose that’s enough of a hint, eh? Last one in the water is a rotten egg!”

Hermione suppressed a grin as, in a flurry of activity, the adults seated around the table raced towards the sea. The similarities they had with their children had Hermione smiling. Harry, Percy, Fleur, and his wife Audrey, remained with Hermione at the table.

“What’s got you bothered about the custody schedule?” asked Harry, lowering his voice.

“I don’t know…it’s probably just the newness of it all. I mean, no mother wants to share her child, right?”

“Of course.” Said Molly, as she came in from outside. “Now, I want you to bring this Zabini boy by to see me, all right? He’ll know better than to get any silly ideas about the custody schedule once he knows who’s backing you.”

“Trust me Molly, I’m pretty sure he knows better than to go up against the Weasleys.” Hermione smiled. “But I’ll try to bring him to the next family gathering, anyway.”

Satisfied with her response, the remaining people dispersed. Unexpectedly, it was Percy Weasley that slid into the bench next to her.

Even after having re- assumed his place within the family, Percy had continued to climb the administrative ladder at the Ministry of Magic. Hermione knew his attention to detail and unfailing work ethic had earned his position as Head Secretary of the Wizengamot, a job he was clearly proud of.

After his marriage to his wife Audrey, and the subsequent birth of their daughter Lucy, the formerly high- strung man had begun to relax a little. He spent more time with his family and less time preaching about the lawful thickness of cauldrons, much to everyone’s relief. Hermione personally though his wife was to be credited for this pleasant change. The two women got along quite well, and always made a point to sit down and chat when they saw each other.

“Hermione, might I have a quick word?” the red headed man asked lowly, his blue eyes hesitant behind his horn rimmed glasses.

“Oh, of course.” Said Hermione, puzzled. The duo slipped into an alcove off the cottage’s staircase, and Percy quickly cast a few notice- me- not spells.

“I hope you don’t mind my interference, but I wanted to give you my support in your recent…er, personal troubles.” Said Percy shifting his weight uncomfortably.

“Oh, um, thank you Percy. That’s very kind of you.” Said Hermione, confused. The pair had never been terribly close, although she did appreciate the support.

“Just in case, of course, but I wanted to give you this.” Said Percy, handing Hermione a small, white card.

The business card had ‘PERCY WEASLEY, HEAD SECRETARY OF THE UNITED KINGDOM’S WIZENGAMOT’ stamped across the front in thin, black letters.

“It’s my personal card. Just tap your wand against it twice, and my secretary will immediately notify me that you urgently need an appointment. As you know, I’m not exactly in the same field as Zabini, but I do have some sway when it comes to the law. Just in case things get…unpleasant… between you two, you have someone looking out for you in the Wizengamot.”

“Well thank you, Percy.” Said Hermione, touched.

“It’s really the least I could do.” The man said, nodding. “You’ve been so kind to Audrey for all these years, and we both appreciate it greatly. I don’t know what we would have done with Lucy if it wasn’t for your advice.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help.” Hermione tucked the card away into her pocket. “Shall we get back to it, then?”

As the pair re- entered the kitchen, Hermione noted that Harry had joined the others outside. She watched Mandy take one last snip at Xander’s hair before she removed the sheet that was draped about his shoulders.

“There you go, Mister Granger.” Said Mandy, brushing off stray hairs from his shoulders. “Better, I think.”

“Much better, I would say.” Agreed Hermione gently turning his face left and right. “I’m happy to see your eyes again.”

Still disgruntled, Xander pouted. “Well, I suppose one of us can be happy about that.” He muttered. “Mother, can I go swim now?” he asked, already inching towards the door.

“Go ahead. Be careful.” Said Hermione, taking a seat by the window.

As her son disappeared down on of the well- worn paths, Hermione turned her attention to her surroundings. It seemed Fleur had trapped her sister- in- law in conversation.

“So I am theenking, zeese dress is ‘ideous! But I do not say zeese to ze girl. I say ‘Ah, but what about zees in blue? And ze girl, who is tres jolie, very pretty, but not very smart, is saying she will check in the back, but she does not know I have bought the very last one on…”

Fleur suddenly trailed off, watching something outside the window. Then: “Dominique! Non, fille, non! It is bad to bite ‘ozer cheeldren. You come up here, pour le moment!” a pause, accompanied by the faint, plaintive response of a child. “Oui, you come right now. Si vous ne pouvez pas jouer gentiment, vous viendrez avec moi à l'intérieur.”

Although Hermione’s French was, admittedly, a little rusty, she surmised that this mean something like “If you can’t play nicely, you will come inside.”

As the little blonde girl sulked into the house, Hermione saw her opportunity to save Audrey. As Fleur softly scolded her daughter in French, Hermione waved the other woman over to sit beside her on the window seat. The pair began to converse easily, and Hermione informed her of Percy’s act of kindness. His wife beamed in pride, and assured Hermione their home was open to her at any time. Their talk soon turned to a pair of shoes Audrey had recently bought in Diagon Alley, and the pair debated the pros and cons of different magical clothing stores in London.

“I hope you don’t mind me butting in,” came an American voice from Hermione’s right, “But do you mind giving me some pointers about the dress shops around here?”

Hermione and Audrey turned to Mandy, who hesitantly sat down in a nearby chair. The two British witches exchanged a glance. Hermione knew they were both thinking: Mandy’s tie to the Malfoys, a family in another social group from their own. However, if her early Hogwarts years had taught her anything, it was that being friendless in a new place was very lonely, indeed.

“Of course.” Said Hermione, giving a warm smile. “I suppose you aren’t very familiar with Diagon Alley, since you’re not from here?”

“No, not really.” Replied Mandy, pleased at the subtle invitation. “I’m getting my wedding dress from somewhere back home, but I still need to pick out bridesmaid dresses, and I don’t know where to start looking.”

As the three women conversed about various shops in England, Hermione couldn’t help but like Mandy. The girl was a little bubblier than herself, but her mannerisms were charming and she gave off a strong wish to be included. Hermione suspected her months in England had been lonely ones. One thing that surprised her, though, was Mandy’s simple, sweet love for Draco Malfoy.

Hermione suspected Mandy knew of Draco’s sordid past, but it was the small things that obviously endeared the blonde to her. She spoke of Draco’s jokes (witty, if a bit mean spirited sometimes), his mother (very polite, but a little frosty) and the way Draco had proposed (on a broomstick ride amid a field of roses). In return, Audrey regaled her own engagement story, a quirky effort by Percy that had fit the couple to a ‘T’.

Hermione tried to brush away the ball of jealousy that dwelled in her chest, banishing the image of Blaise’s own pre- proposal from her mind. That was a long time ago, and best to be left in the past.

Turning away from the other women, Hermione quickly spotted Xander through the window. The boy was treading water among the waves, his curly hair plastered to his head by the waves. Teddy Lupin’s bright blue head bobbed a few feet away, with Charlie watching over the pair on a nearby rock. Charlie continually threw a bright red ball into the water for the youngsters to try and retrieve, must to the boy’s entertainment.

In the shallows, closer to the shore, various redheaded, brunet, and blonde children chased each other through the water, squealing in delight. Their parents were gathered along the sand, on beach chairs and a beat- up picnic table. If nothing else, the war had taught them to cherish the ones they loved, whenever they could.

~(o)~

Several days later, Hermione found herself in her classroom. She had just gotten back from the last teaching conference of the summer, and was relieved to put them behind her. Yes, they did help a lot, and it was nice to learn new education techniques.

But part of every conference was devoted to keeping professors updated on curriculum requirements, and Hermione had some apprehension about the coming year. If NEWT and OWL test scores weren’t up to par, there was the possibility of government intervention in the classroom.

It was this threat of Ministry regulation that had Hermione back in her classroom, even though it was not quite half way through summer vacation. As she jotted down notes for next year’s lesson plans, she flicked her wand at the tall, clear windows to her right. They flipped open, fresh air clearing away the previously musty smell of the room.

When the school’s clock tower tolled four times, marking the hour, Hermione rose from her desk. Stretching languidly, she pondered what she and Xander would have for dinner. They could have Shepard’s pie, or maybe a nice, light quiche.

Turning her head at the sound of flapping wings, she spotted the Potter’s owl, Hermes. Gracefully settling down on the ledge outside the window, he stuck out his leg for her to take the attached parchment.

Unrolling the scroll, Hermione stroked his feathers as she read.

Mother,

Could I please stay at the Potters tonite? I am having lots of fun and Aunt Luna said it was O.K. so please send me a reply soon. I love you very much.

Your son,

Alexander Granger

Hermione have a huff of amusement. His Slytherin tendencies were flaring up again, what with the uncalled for ‘I love you very much’.

‘I could use a night to myself,’ she mused. ‘A hot cup of tea, a good book, maybe listen to the wireless for a bit.’

Plucking a quill from her desk, Hermione dashed out a reply.

Xander,

Yes, you have my permission to stay with the Potters tonight. Please be on your best behavior and clean up after yourself. Also, don’t forget that Selena needs to eat; I dare say she’ll be able to find something for herself if you let her into the back garden tonight. Floo me if you want to come home. Otherwise, I’ll pick you up tomorrow around 9 o’clock.

Love,

Mother

Sending Hermes off into the light of the early evening, Hermione began to gather her notes when she was again interrupted. Blaise’s black owl, Nox, had replaced Hermes on the windowsill.

To Hermione and Alexander,

I’m unsure of your plans for the evening, but I would like to invite you to dinner, if you have no prior engagements. If you are amiable, I have reservations at Trés Belle Chanson at six- thirty. Please let me know within the hour.

Blaise

‘It would be easy to lie.’ Hermione mused. ‘If I simply said Xander and I were having dinner with someone, or that I’m simply not feeling well.’

‘But why lie?’ Hermione thought a moment later. ‘Maybe it would be nice to have dinner with him. No Xander, so we could talk openly, and it’s not like it’s a date or anything. It’s just dinner. Plus, you still need to talk about the custody arrangements.’

Hermione quickly scratched out an affirmative reply before she lost her courage.

Blaise,

Xander is staying the night at the Potters tonight, and is subsequently unavailable. However, I would be happy to dine with you- there’s something I wish to discuss with you, away from the ears of small children. If the offer still stands, I will meet you inside Trés Belle Chanson at six- thirty.

See you then,

Hermione

Attaching the parchment to Nox’s leg, Hermione hurriedly gathered her things and moved towards the door to her rooms. Trés Belle Chanson was a very high class restaurant, and if the mirror’s reflection held any truth, she had a lot of work to do.

~(o)~

She wished they would stop staring at her.

Sitting in the reception area at Trés Belle Chanson, Hermione was the object of many patron’s speculation. Her status of a war heroine allowed her the unofficial ‘right’ to dine at the exclusive restaurant, but she still felt out of place.

Dressed in a dark turquoise sheath dress that dropped to her ankles, Hermione’s hair was in a pretty French twist. Her irregular dressiness was attracting more than one not- so- subtle glance, and Hermione wished Blaise would hurry up and get there.

As if Hermione’s thoughts had summoned him to the spot, Blaise appeared a moment later, smiling broadly.

“Buonasera, Cara.” He greeted quietly. “I must say, you look wonderful tonight.”

Trying to suppress a blush, Hermione returned his greeting before gesturing to the hostess’ stand at the front of the room. “Shall we?”

“Absolutely.” Blaise agreed, offering his arm. Hermione reluctantly took it, desperately mentally repeating her mantra of ‘This is not a date!’

“Zabini, party of two.” Murmured Blaise to the hostess. The restaurant lighting was a soft, gold tone, and a woman, accompanied by several instruments, sang quietly in French on a dais in the corner.

The pair was quickly escorted to the lofted part of the dining room, which was reserved for the restaurant’s more affluent clientele. This section overlooked the main dining area, and only a half dozen tables were available.

As they approached their table, a waiter slid behind Hermione’s chair, only to be waved away by Blaise. He pushed in her chair as she sat, and Hermione couldn’t help but comment as she unfolded her napkin.

“I suppose chivalry isn’t dead, afterall.” She said with a smile.

“Hmm, if you really believe that, then you haven’t been spending time with the right kind of people.” Blaise smirked.

Hermione ignored the jibe. “I hear this place has a month- long waiting list.” She glanced around the room, taking in the decour. “How did you manage to get a spot on such short notice?”

“The owners are long- time friends of my family’s.” Blaise said, not glancing up from the wine list. “They usually keep a few tables open for aquaintences.”

Hermione began to skim the menue, watching as the text changed from French to English and back.

“Now, you said you wanted to discuss something?” Blaise broke the silence that had descended over the table.

“Yes. I’ve been thinking, and we haven’t written up a custody agreement for Xander yet. I mean, I don’t really think we need one now, since it’s summer holiday for Xander and I, but things will be different during the school year.”

For a moment, Hermione thought she saw something flash across Blaise’s face; a emotion that she couldn’t immidiately name. But before she could figure it out, it was gone.

“Of course.” Replied Blaise smoothly. “Why put off tomorrow what can be accomplished today, hmm?”

Before they could talk any further, a waiter slided up to the table. Blaise ordered a bottle of wine that he insisted Hermione would like. The pair placed their orders (Blaise got Blanquette de veau, a veal dish, and Hermione ordered duck with sautéed mushrooms).

After the waiter departed their table, Blaise turned back to Hermione. “Now, before we start talking about the custody agreement,” was there a hint of repugnance in the tone as he said the words? “we need to talk about what happened last week with my mother.”

Unconsciously, Hermione’s face twisted into a scowl at the mention of Elena. “I suppose you’ve taken her side, and want to chastise me?” she spat, already rising from her seat. “Too bad I don’t want to sit here and be lectured. I’ll be going now.”

Before she could completely stand, Blaise spoke in a calm, deadly voice. “Hermione you will sit back down now.”

Part of her wanted to storm from the table, just because she could. However, without her complete consent, Herm body chose to immediately comply with his order. Lips twisting into a pout, Hermione petulantly sat back in her chair.

“Now,” Blaise began after taking a deep breath to compose himself, “Before you decided to make a scene, I was about to tell you that I am not taking either of your sides. Although my mother insists she did nothing wrong, I know she has the tendency to say things she doesn’t necessarily mean.” Hermione snorted, the unladylike sound earning her a stern glance.

“I have confidence in your abilities as a mother, and will back your future decisions as I see fit. But that’s not what disturbs me in this ordeal. From what Mother said, Alexander had…well, frankly, it sounds like he had a fit.”

“Oh, that.” Hermione waved a hand. “I told you he has a temper, and he’s a bit more powerful than kids his age. It’s not that bad.”

“When did you tell me this?” asked Blaise.

“That first night, after we got back from the hospital wing.” Hermione insisted. “You were looking at that chunk that came out of the table, and I told you about the window shattering incident at my parent’s house.”

“Yes, I suppose I do remember that.” Mused Blaise, thinking back. “I was very distracted that night, as you can imagine. But Hermione, that’s a bit more powerful that what’s normal.”

“Oh, please Blaise, Xander is hardly the next Dumbledore.” Scoffed Hermione, but inside a ball of unease was beginning to grow.

“I’m not saying he’s the next Dumbledore, or the next Dark Lord. But accidental magic isn’t usually that destructive. Most wizarding children stick to levitating things, or changing the colors of objects. Or, in extreme cases, like Potter’s, inflating your aunts.” Giving a small smile, Blaise continued. “From the way Mother described it, it was quite a bit worse.”

“He was very upset!” defended Hermione.

“Hermione, please, I’m not trying to upset you. All I’m saying it maybe we should look into getting some help.”

“What kind of help?” she asked reluctantly. Tears were forming in her eyes, no doubt smudging her mascara. ‘What if I’ve been handling this the wrong way?’ she thought.

Blaise leaned across the table and enfolded her hands in his own. Giving a light squeeze, he looked into her eyes. “There’s a branch of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes that deals primarily with accidental magic done by small children. They work with children like Alexander, with power above the normal range. I think we should take him to have him registered, and see if they can refer us to a specialist.”

“And have them poke and prod at him? Have him told he’s not like other kids his age? Absolutely not!” Hermione tried to pull her hands out of his grasp to no avail.

“Hermione, what if he hurts someone? What if he hurts himself? This might just get worse as he gets older, and the Ministry will be less lenient as he grows. Plus, they’re hardly going to run experiments on him.” Giving her hands a gently squeeze, he looked at her imploringly. “Please, Hermione. I won’t go behind your back to do this, but I want to keep my son safe. I really, truly believe this is for the best.”

Looking over the dining room below, Hermione took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Okay. Okay, we can go. But the second I think it’s not good for him, we’re leaving.”

“Of course.” Blaise conceded. Dashing the tears from her eyes, Hermione began to relax. Perhaps it was for the best.

Before long their waiter delivered their food. Both their dishes looked fantastic, and the pair dug in. As they ate, they made conversation.

“So how’s your job going?” asked Hermione, slicing into her duck.

Blaise made a noise in the back of his throat as he chewed. “It’s stressful. This case with the Harpies is driving me mad. All the players have basically turned against each other, and the coach is a complete idiot. The owner of the team is apparently thinking about firing the lot, and getting together a new team. Of course, their business is good for the firm, but it’s still a bloody pain. The Wizengamot is apparently going to make their ruling on the lawsuit next week, which is good. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.”

“Do you think you’ll win?” asked Hermione.

Blaise gave her a mock reproachful glance. “Of course I’ll win- I’m Blaise Zabini.”

Laughing softly, Hermione smiled. “Always so full of yourself- I remember when we were in school; you always scared all our classmates in debate. Your own self- confidence made them doubt their own beliefs.”

“Well, at least I wasn’t as bad as you! No matter how hard we all tried, none of us could remember all the details you did. Scared Ernie Macmillan to death.” Said Blaise

“Ernie Macmillan? He was scared of me?” she questioned

“Merlin, yes.” Laughed Blaise.

“No!”

“Yes.”

“But why?!”

“He comes from an old pureblood family, and you ousted everything his old granddad had ever told him. Mind, he’s hardly prejudiced- his parents are very liberal minded- but I once heard him say he thought you would become the next Dark Lord, what with all the information you had crammed into your head.”

Sitting back in her chair, Hermione couldn’t help but feel surprised. Ernie had always been so nice…although, she would probably be nice to the next Dark Lord, too.

“You think you know a person.” Said Hermione, stealing a roasted tomato off Blaise’s plate.

They set in comfortable silence for several minutes, the clink of silverware the mingling with the music.

“So I suppose you’re done with your teaching conferences, now.” Said Blaise, and Hermione smiled.

“Yes, my last one was today. The topic was ‘Books Versus Broomsticks: The Effects of Quidditch on the Adolescent Mind.’ Terribly interesting.”

“Oh? Do tell.” Said Blaise, genuine interest shining in his eyes.

Hermione beamed. When she wasn’t talking to colleges, she often didn’t get an interested audience member when it came to her work. Her friend’s eyes held polite interest, but nothing more. She had missed these talks with Blaise.

“Well, studies show that Quidditch is both good and bad as a stimulator for kids…” and so Hermione continued their discussion, much to both their delights.

The subject soon turned to other points of interest: an article they had both read in Potion’s Monthly, the rising value of the galleon, and a tsunami that was currently forming off the coast of Japan. Hermione shared some amusing anecdotes about Xander over the years, and Blaise updated her on Brutus’ heart problem. The pair continued to steal food off each other’s plates, falling into the old habit as if the past decade were little more than a dream.

Somewhere between the main course and dessert, Michael Buble and Ivan Lin’s “Wonderful Tonight” was played by the musicians downstairs.

“Oh, this brings back the memories.” Said Hermione, her voice tinged with a bit of wistfulness.

Standing, Blaise offered her his hand. “Dance with me.”

“Oh, Blaise, I haven’t been dancing in such a long time…” Hermione protested, but allowed him to pull her from her seat. The couple moved down the stairs. A large spot had been cleared in the room to act as a dance floor, and he pulled her onto it without hesitation. Other couples swayed to the music around them, and Blaise held her a little closer than what was strictly appropriate.

Internally, Hermione was at war. ‘What ever happened to ‘keep a casual distance’ in this relationship?! What about ‘what’s in the past is in the past?!’ Part of her mind railed, unsettled by the rapid beating of her heart.

‘Let things happen.’ Said a soft, but sensible voice. ‘You’ll always put Xander first, but that doesn’t mean you have to neglect yourself. Just go with your gut- It’s rarely steered you wrong before.’ With that, the objecting voice began to fade, and Hermione made a decision.

Stepping closer, she laid her head on Blaise’s chest, and listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong. As she felt his arms tighten around her, Hermione felt completely and utterly safe.

Chapter 10 Author’s Note:

This chapter sucks. I had to re- write it about six times before it was halfway decent, and I’m still not completely satisfied. On the plus side, this is my longest- ever chapter at +5,350 words!

As anyone who has ever written Fleur’s dialogue will attest: she wreaks havoc on a computer’s Spell Check feature.

That is all : ) Be safe.

Gotbooks93
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