Chapter Text
In the years following the war, life had taken unexpected turns for Hermione, Harry and Ron. Their circle of friends had expanded in ways no one could have predicted. Ginny’s relationship with Blaise Zabini had shocked everyone at first, but his dry wit and subtle charm had endeared him to the group, and soon, he became a fixture in their gatherings. Theo Nott, who had once been on the fringes of their school years, had come into Harry’s life through their work at the Ministry, and before long, they had become close, forging a strong bond that surprised even them.
Pansy Parkinson’s transformation from a sharp-tongued Slytherin to a respected socialite with a softer edge had brought her into their lives as well, through her relationship with Neville. Their odd couple dynamic—Neville’s steady, quiet presence balancing out Pansy’s fiery energy—worked far better than anyone expected. Hermione had initially been wary, but over the years, Pansy’s fierce loyalty to her friends had won her over. Ron had settled comfortably with Susan Bones, their relationship rooted in a shared sense of humor and mutual understanding of what it meant to grow up in the shadow of war. Together, the group had become a tight-knit circle, bound by shared history and the ability to move past old grudges.
Even Draco Malfoy had eventually found his place among them. His apology to Hermione, offered a couple of years after the war, had been sincere, and though it had taken time, she had forgiven him. Their paths hadn’t crossed much afterward, but when Ginny and Blaise, and later Harry and Theo, had begun dating, the two found themselves in the same social circle again. The sharp edges of their past had worn down, replaced by an ease that surprised them both. The tension that had once defined their relationship had shifted into something more playful, marked by witty banter and the occasional challenge. The group, once an odd mix of Gryffindors, Slytherins, and former rivals, had become something like a family.
---
The hum of laughter and conversation floated out as Hermione approached the door of Harry and Theo’s house, the familiar sound filling her with warmth despite the brisk evening chill. Inside, the house glowed with warmth, enchanted candles flickering from floating sconces, and the smell of delicious food filling the air. The group was already gathered, as usual, voices mingling in animated conversation.
“Look who decided to finally show up!” Ginny’s teasing voice called from the couch, where she sat curled up with Blaise, a glass of wine in hand. “We were beginning to think you’d moved into St. Mungo’s permanently.”
Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled, hanging her coat by the door. “I’m only fifteen minutes late, Ginny. Hardly a crime.”
Pansy snorted from across the room, sitting comfortably next to Neville. “Considering you’ve missed the last two dinners completely, Granger, we’re just grateful you remembered this one.”
Neville grinned. “We were going to set a place for you in the archives of lost friends.”
“She’s been too busy saving lives, obviously,” Theo chimed in, his arm slung casually over Harry’s shoulder. “Can’t blame a girl for being a hero.”
Hermione made a face but took the ribbing in stride as she made her way to the seating area, settling into the armchair between Ron and Pansy. “Yes, yes, very funny. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Finally,” Blaise drawled, raising his glass to her. “Now maybe we can have some real fun.”
“We’ll see how long you last this time,” Ron teased, handing her the drink. “Want to place bets on whether she runs off halfway through?”
“I’ll take that bet,” Theo said, grinning. “Fifteen Galleons says Hermione gets called in before dessert.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Hermione said dryly, taking a sip. “Very funny.”
“You deserve it,” Ginny said, lounging lazily against Blaise’s shoulder. “You’re always working. Don’t you ever take a break?”
“I try,” Hermione said defensively. “But my work is—”
“—exhausting, yes, we know,” Draco interrupted from across the room, his voice smooth as ever. “But really, Granger, without you around, these gatherings have been positively dull. I’ve had to endure two entire gatherings on my own. It’s been unbearable.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. “Unbearable, really? I didn’t realize my absence had such an impact.”
Draco gave a slow, deliberate nod, his eyes glinting with amusement. “More than you know. Without your constant corrections and smug superiority, I’ve been forced to listen to Longbottom drone on about plants. And Weasley’s jokes, of course.”
Neville laughed. “Hey! My plants are fascinating.”
“Yeah,” Ron added, pointing a fork at Draco. “And my jokes are top-notch, Malfoy.”
Draco smirked. “If that’s what helps you sleep at night, Weasley.”
Hermione snorted, shaking her head. "Please, Malfoy, you’d miss Ron’s jokes if they stopped. Admit it.”
Draco gave her a mock serious look. “I think I’d manage just fine, actually.”
Hermione grinned. “Sure you would. But I’ve seen the way you smirk at them when you think no one’s looking.”
Ron leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Ha! Knew it. You secretly love my jokes, Malfoy.”
Draco rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smile. “Maybe I just enjoy seeing you embarrass yourself, Weasley. It’s my favorite form of entertainment. And anyway, Granger, you’ve left me outnumbered. Seventh wheel is hardly a dignified position.”
“Poor Malfoy,” Ginny teased. “Forced to fend for himself in a world of couples.”
“I’m shocked you even made it this long without starting a duel just for entertainment,” Hermione said, her eyes twinkling with humor.
Draco shrugged dramatically. “Believe me, I’ve considered it. But I didn’t want to ruin Longbottom’s herb talk.” He leaned forward slightly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Though I must admit, Granger, I’ve missed your... unique perspective. Always so quick to dismiss my potions theories. Keeps me sharp.”
Hermione shot him a grin. “Someone has to make sure your ego doesn’t inflate beyond reasonable bounds.”
Pansy, sitting next to Neville, snorted. “Oh, that ship sailed years ago, darling.”
Ginny nodded sagely. “Indeed. Draco’s ego is practically its own entity. We’ve all just learned to live with it.”
“I prefer to think of it as confidence,” Draco retorted smoothly. “You can’t argue with results.”
Hermione smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Confidence is knowing your worth, Malfoy. What you have is more like a lifelong love affair—with yourself.”
Pansy, who had been watching the exchange with an amused smile, chimed in. “Honestly, this is the best part of any dinner. Watching you two go at it.”
“It's like a sport at this point,” Blaise added, his lips curling into a smile. “You should sell tickets.”
Harry chuckled, shaking his head from across the room. “It’s impressive, really. You’ve both been at this for years now, and I’m still entertained.”
“Oh, don’t encourage them,” Susan said, laughing.
Theo grinned at Hermione. “You do know that Draco here is just trying to get under your skin, right?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “As if I don’t know that. He’s been doing it since we were eleven.”
“And she still hasn’t learned,” Draco added, raising his glass in mock salute. “Impressive resilience, really.”
“Well,” Pansy drawled, “maybe one day they’ll realize what’s really going on.”
Hermione gave her a pointed look. “There’s nothing going on except Malfoy being infuriating, as usual.”
Pansy just smirked, leaning back in her seat. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”
---
The evening rolled on comfortably, with plates of food passed around and more drinks poured. The teasing of Hermione hadn’t let up, with Ron being the latest to take a jab.
“Seriously, though, Hermione,” Ron said, grinning as he took a bite of roast chicken. “The only way to actually see you more these days,” Ron said, grinning mischievously, “would be if one of us got hurt and landed in St. Mungo’s. Then you’d have no choice but to fuss over us.”
“Exactly,” Theo chimed in, laughing. “You’re always at the hospital. We’d have to show up on a stretcher just to get your attention.”
Hermione rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “You wish. If you lot were dumb enough to injure yourselves, I’d send one of the trainees to patch you up.”
As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed naturally, shifting between old stories, upcoming work projects, and plenty of teasing from all sides. Laughter filled the room, but Draco’s mind kept drifting back to Ron’s offhand remark. The idea of getting Hermione’s attention by faking a few minor injuries was amusing—and perhaps more effective than Ron even realized. As the others chatted, Draco’s thoughts began to spin, already piecing together a plan. After all, if the only way to see Granger more was to land himself in St. Mungo’s, then so be it. He just needed the perfect excuse to make it happen.
---
Later, the group was deep in conversation about Neville’s latest greenhouse project. He was telling a story about a magical fern that had managed to grow five times its normal size in just a week, much to Pansy’s horror.
“And now,” Neville said with a rueful smile, “I’ve got it taking over half the greenhouse, it’s growing so fast, I might need a team of curse-breakers to keep it in check.”
Pansy shuddered. “You’re not bringing any of that near our flat.”
Ron snorted. “Just wait until it comes for you in your sleep, Pans. That’s the real horror story.”
“You joke,” Pansy said darkly, “but I’m this close to moving into a penthouse in Diagon Alley.”
“Please,” Theo said with a grin, “like you’d ever leave the plants behind. Admit it, you love Neville’s ridiculous jungle.”
Pansy’s glare was offset by the smile tugging at her lips, and the others laughed as she gave Theo a withering look.
Draco, who had been quietly sipping his drink, leaned back in his chair, a smirk curling on his lips. "I’m with Pansy on this one. I’ll take potions explosions over man-eating ferns any day."
Neville shook his head, still grinning. "It’s not that bad. I just need to tweak the charm I’ve been using to control its growth."
"Famous last words," Pansy muttered, crossing her arms.
"You could always call in Hermione to tame it if it gets out of hand," Ginny suggested, a mischievous glint in her eye. "She can save anything, can’t she?"
"Except maybe Malfoy’s ego," Ron chimed in, earning a round of laughter.
Hermione gave Ron a mock-glare before turning her attention back to Draco. "Honestly, I’m surprised you’re not interested in the fern, Malfoy. I’m sure you could make some kind of ridiculous potion from it. Something explosive, no doubt."
Draco raised an eyebrow, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Oh, Granger, I leave the explosions to amateurs. My potions are far more... refined."
"Refined?" Hermione snorted. "Last I heard, you nearly turned Blaise’s eyebrows green with your last ‘refined’ experiment."
Blaise, who had been quietly observing the banter with a smile, put his drink down and shook his head. "That was one time. And for the record, it was not my eyebrows—it was my hair."
The group erupted into more laughter, and Draco waved a hand dismissively. "A minor miscalculation. Could’ve happened to anyone."
"Anyone who’s been drinking firewhisky while brewing potions, maybe," Harry pointed out, shaking his head.
"Exactly!" Hermione agreed, laughing. "So much for refinement."
Draco gave an exaggerated sigh. "Granger, you wound me with your constant lack of faith in my abilities."
"I wouldn’t call it a lack of faith," Hermione replied, smirking. "More like a healthy skepticism."
Theo stood and clapped his hands, changing the subject. "Alright, alright, enough about plants and potions. Someone mentioned dessert, and I believe I promised to outdo my last culinary masterpiece."
"Are we talking about the incident with the flaming soufflé?" Blaise teased, earning a few groans from around the room.
"It was one time!" Theo protested. "And it only slightly caught fire!"