A Wonderful Fortuitous Love

44. Caught

“You could have just told me the last two lines of that story without going through so much detail.” He waited for her to yell at him for that, but to his surprise, a ghost of a smirk crossed her features.

“I guess. But non-dramatic speeches aren’t really our style, are they?” 

“Touché.” He started to shift out of his chair when he stopped. “Aren’t you sad?”

“Yes,” she answered without missing a beat. “And I…” She hesitated, unsure, and again she had that look, as if she was trying to decide something about him. “And I’m scared.”

Like someone had flipped a light switch, he finally understood. She was seizing him up, wondering whether or not it was safe to confide in him, if they had even gotten to that point yet. But Hermione Granger had just admitted to him that she was scared, not even over anything huge, and it hit like a bludger to the chest that this was her trusting him.

“So what now?” he managed to ask, almost numb with this new realisation but competent enough to keep himself in check; expressionless, with the help of many years practise. 

She shrugged. “Break ups happen all the time. I’ll move past this part and do what I’ve always done. Get on with life.” 

***

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”

Ophelia was sitting directly across the dinning table from Hermione, perched awkwardly in the unfamiliar environment yet somehow managing to still look graceful about it.

“Of course you can,” she said. “It’s just the door to the right of the stairs.” Ophelia smiled and went into the bathroom, and when the door shut behind her, Hermione leaned back in her seat, relieved that she no longer had to rack her brain for conversational topics as they waited for Draco, who had yet to return from Blaise’s and was already running about five minutes late for his and Ophelia’s lunch date. 

She wondered idly what they did during their lunches and coffees. Did they talk about school and work and family or about personal things? Did he tell Ophelia things he had already shared with Hermione? Did she laugh at his jokes because she was supposed to or because she thought he was genuinely funny? When he reached for his drink did he let his fingers touch hers accidentally or on purpose?

She considered asking Draco some of these questions, but she would always bail out, remaining herself that it was not her place and that if he wanted to, he would have already told her. He hadn’t.

She slumped further into the chair when there were two quick taps on the door. Knowing that this would not be Draco, she got up grudgingly – and then wished she hadn’t gotten up in the first place.

“Tina,” Hermione said, the word coming out higher than she anticipated from surprise.

“Oh,” she said bluntly, a scowl already setting onto her features. “It’s you.”

The polite smile Hermione had been forcing melted. Her mother had always said that manners cost nothing, but, in this case, she thought maybe there was an exception.

“Well,” said Hermione, standing taller, “I do actually live here, so…”

“Whatever.” Tina’s eyes ranked over Hermione’s most comfortable sweats and oversized shirt – well really it was Harry’s shirt that she had shamelessly borrowed and had yet to return – with her lip curled. Hermione, meanwhile, eyed Tina’s tight jeans, complete with high heels once again. A total different pair from last time with embedded fake diamonds, but still. They also weren’t the only things that were ludicrously high. Under the leopard print halter top, her breasts were so raised from a push-up bra Hermione was sure that, should Tina bend over, they would touch her chin.