A Wonderful Fortuitous Love

49. Beautiful

"When you get to know someone, all their physical characteristics start to disappear. You begin to dwell in their energy, recognize the scent of their skin. You see only the essence of the person, not the shell. That’s why you can’t fall in love with beauty. You can lust after it, be infatuated by it, want to own it. You can love it with your eyes and your body but not your heart. And that’s why, when you really connect with a person’s inner self, any physical imperfections disappear, become irrelevant."

- Lisa Unger, Beautiful Lies

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It did not take her half as long as she’d thought it would to find Blaise. He was out the front of the very place Draco had guessed he would be; only he was not alone. Some woman was there also, running her hand up and down his arm. As the overhead lights of the club flashed, both the woman and Blaise were thrown into full light, and it was easy to see that he was making no attempt whatsoever to restrain his companion.

Her chest boiled with fury. How could he do this? How could he be so selfish? And before she knew what was happening Hermione had marched across the street and was soon standing directly behind Blaise.

“I really wouldn’t get too invested,” she said, her voice light compared to the anger she was really feeling. “I’ve seen him naked, and it’s honestly not that great.”

Blaise whirled around, his mouth agape. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“No, I believe the question is, what the hell are you doing?” she shot back. “Chatting up some woman you barely know when you’re taken.”

“Um, are you guys together?” the woman asked.

Both Blaise and Hermione rounded on her and angrily yelled, “No!”

She jumped a little, not quite prepared to be shouted out, and raised her hands in surrender as she took a few steps away. “Right. You both obviously have issues.” She turned on her heel and strode down the street. Blaise called after her, which did not work out so well because he didn’t appear to know her name either. Once she turned the corner and disappeared, Blaise looked back at Hermione.

“Well, I hope you’re happy, Granger!” he said icily. “You know how hard it was to find a woman around here that didn’t smell like she’d already had fifty guys on her? Now I have to go back in there and… and…” Blaise’s head tilted to the side slowly, his irritation at her forgotten for the moment as his expression turned thoughtful. Then, coming to a decision, he lazily stepped closer to her, his eyes with that naughty glint to them. “Actually,” he drawled, “you don’t smell so bad.” Blaise leaned in and drew a deep breath, his hand catching her wrist in the process as the other moved her to forearm, his fingers ghosting across her skin. “What d’you say, Hermione? Draco and Pansy were together, so I think…” he pressed himself even closer, his cheek against hers as he continued silkily in her ear, “I think it’s our go now.”

Hermione shoved him away, disgusted, even more so because there was no trace of alcohol on him. He was completely sober. “How could you!” she hissed. “Pansy is my friend, and I’d have thought she was yours too!”  

Blaise laughed coldly. “Like this is really about her. You’re just as worried about Draco finding out.”

“Because he’s yours and Pansy’s friend too!” Hermione cried, and she wanted to shove him again.

“Sure. Whatever. You keep telling yourself that. Pretend you’re nothing but friends with him.”

“This is not about us! It’s about you and your inability to grow a pair as you hide from your problems!”