One More Time

*

July passed quickly into August and Blaise kept up with his promise to stay connected to Hermione. They weathered the morning sickness with difficulty. Blaise had to hear often how miserable Hermione was and how it always ended up as his fault.

For the most part, he ignored her blaming. He knew it was emotions and high temper that caused most of it. Plus, he had to admit that it was his fault, not that he would ever tell her that.

He sent regular Owls checking in, making sure everything was alright. There had been very few outbursts since the day in her office, for which he was glad. He had enough on his plate without Hermione yelling at him for various things.

His mother had found a new girl for him, one exactly like the rest; tall, blond, stupid. He could handle this one, but to his great annoyance, Vanessa’s words kept coming back to him, asking what Hermione felt, what he felt.

He didn’t want to think about it, and so pushed it out of the way, concentrating on keeping his promise.

Hermione was surprised when Blaise didn’t run away or lose contact for weeks at a time this time. She had been expecting him to disappear after what she’d told him. She hadn’t expected him to step up and take on his responsibility as the father. She was mildly pleased at his actions.

By the middle of August, Hermione had discovered she was beginning to show. This did not please her so much. As she wore mainly Muggle attire, it would be harder to conceal as time went by. At the moment, it simply looked as though she had gained a little weight, but even that concerned her.

She supposed that if she had to, she could revert to wearing wizard robes. They hid things much better. She hadn’t worn robes for a while now. As Muggle was the new fashion trend and she had always preferred it anyway, she had never been too keen on wizard wear and only wore it on formal Ministry occasions and when required.

She didn’t like the idea of going back to it. Instead, she hoped that by the time she was really showing, the weather would be cooler and she would be able to layer it away.

The second week of August found her standing in the middle of a large Muggle department store in the middle of London, fingering a gold bracelet. She tilted her head to the side, watching the gold glint in the bright lights of the store.

“You think she would like this?”

She looked over to see Harry standing near a rack of hats of all different colors, mainly pink, blue, and purple. Harry was holding up what had to be the ugliest of all the hats. It was pink with blue feathers all around the edges.

Hermione walked over to him and plucked the hat from his hands, placing it back on the wrack.

“I thought you wanted a serious gift, Harry,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the hat.

“I do,” Harry said earnestly, glancing at the hat. “You don’t think she’d like it?”

“Oh no, she would like it,” Hermione said, turning around. “It would go perfectly with her clown’s nose, don’t you think?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Okay, so what do you think she’d like, smarty pants?”

Hermione smiled and grabbed Harry’s arm, leading him over to the jewelry counter. “Harry, the way to a woman’s heart is through jewelry.”

“You mean like bracelets and necklaces and stuff?” Harry asked.

“Yes, and stuff,” Hermione agreed.

“But don’t you get that stuff when you want someone to like you?”

“Or to show you care,” Hermione added.

“But she already knows how I feel,” he said, frowning and turning away from the display case. “She knows I love her. I want to get her something that really means that, not some flashy necklace that won’t mean anything in a year.”

Hermione paused for a moment, thinking. She admired Harry’s spirit in the matter, only wishing she had someone who would do the same for her.

“In that case,” Hermione said, turning to Harry thoughtfully, “what does she like?”

Harry shrugged, glancing carelessly at a rack of scarves. “I dunno.”

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Come on, Harry. You’ve been dating her for, what, a year almost? You must know something that she likes or wants.”

“I don’t know! I’m not good at gifts,” Harry said exasperatedly. “That’s why I need you.”

“Well, I need you to tell me what you know about her so I can help you,” Hermione said, giving Harry a sympathetic smile. She rubbed her forehead for a second, then let out a breath, walking over to him. “We’ll start with something simple. What’s her favorite color?”

Harry thought for a second. “Blue,” he said finally.

Hermione laughed. “Figures. Does she have any hobbies?”

“Cooking?” Harry guessed.

“No, Harry, that’s her job.” Hermione sighed.

“Well, she loves it,” he said, fingering a silk scarf before turning and wandering down another aisle of the store.

Hermione strolled beside him, looking around her in silence, trying to think of what she knew about Padma. Personally, she was very glad Harry had chosen her rather than her sister. She’d always liked Padma better, perhaps because she was smarter than her twin.

They were taking a short cut through the evening gown section when Harry stopped suddenly. Hermione gave him a questioning look.

“You want to buy her a ball gown?”

Harry shook his head. “No, Hermione, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Hermione said, starting to walk again. She hoped he wasn’t about to ask about her behavior the past few months. She’d gotten enough questions about it, and she had been trying to act as normal as possible since Harry’s birthday party.

Harry walked beside her, studying his shoes carefully. “You’re a woman, Hermione,” he said slowly. “Do you ever think about getting married?”

Hermione’s eyebrows came together slightly. “I’d need a boyfriend first, I’m afraid, Harry,” she said finally.

“Yeah, but you think about it, don’t you? I mean, you want to get married, eventually, right?”

“Sure,” she said. “If I ever find someone I love, I want to get married.”

She didn’t see the sidelong glance Harry sent at her. He sighed as they continued walking. “Do you ever feel pressure to get married?”

“No,” she said carefully. “What is this about? Did Padma say something?”

“No,” Harry said quickly. “But do you think maybe she’s expecting me to propose since Ron did to Mandy?”

Hermione laughed as they passed through the dresses and into another section of the shop.

“What?” Harry demanded. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing, Harry,” Hermione said complacently. “Why would you suppose Padma would expect you to propose simply because Ron did?”

“Well,” Harry said, sounding flustered, “don’t women expect men to do things like this?”

“Harry,” Hermione said, patting him on the arm, “the only thing Padma expects is for you to love her and be there for her. Yeah, eventually if you guys are ready, she may want to get married, but it won’t be because Ron proposed to Mandy.”

Harry gave a sigh of relief and hugged Hermione to him. She immediately tensed up at the contact, as though afraid he might be able to tell what she was hiding from a hug.

“Thanks, Hermione,” he said, smiling as he let her go. “I was just kind of worried.”

Hermione smiled, feeling relieved as Harry let go. “Don’t be. Now, let’s find her a gift, shall we?”

They combed the store, Hermione suggesting everything from an embroidered blue pillow to blue diamond earrings. Harry rejected them all, and Hermione rejected all of his suggestions.

Finally, they seemed to come to the conclusion that it was simply impossible to find a gift that would fit Padma.

“It’s impossible!” Harry exclaimed in frustration, throwing a can opener back on the hook. “I can’t find anything in this store!”

“We’ll find something,” Hermione said, feeling the same. She was tired of shopping, tired of standing, and she was beginning to feel nauseous. Oh, how she hated morning sickness that, ridiculously enough, didn’t seem to think morning was enough.

“There’s nothing, Hermione,” Harry said despairingly. “Nothing that’s good enough for her. Maybe I will just buy her a diamond necklace. You said girls liked jewelry, right?”

Hermione sighed, leaning against a shelf. “You know Padma deserves better than a meaningless diamond. You said so yourself.”

“But what can I get her? This is insane.”

“I don’t know, Harry, maybe we should try another store,” Hermione suggested, internally cringing at the thought. She couldn’t for the life of her remember why she’d agreed to this shopping trip. She was beginning to really regret it. “Maybe we need to step out of the ordinary, find something more unique that will—“

“Oh my God,” Harry said, cutting her off. He was staring behind her to a glass case that held an array of bowls and pots. They were quite decorated with tile mosaics, sparkling jewels, and shiny glosses.

“What?” she asked, turning as he walked right past.

“Look at that jar right there,” he said, pointing in the case to a pretty blue and green jar about as big as a pickle jar, but much more elegant. The top of the seal was decorated with sparkling white crystals that glittered in the bright display lights.

“A jar?” Hermione asked. She had to admit it was a very pretty jar, but it was still a jar.

“Yes,” Harry breathed. “Padma collects decorative jars for her kitchen. She’s got about ten of them, some used for potion ingredients, some for cooking like sugar and flour.”

“That’s unique,” Hermione commented. She didn’t collect anything herself but admired those who did.

“She’d love it,” Harry said, turning to Hermione. “It’s perfect!”

“Well, we found the gift,” Hermione said, feeling relieved. Her stomach was beginning to bother her more and she felt a bit feint from standing for so long.

“Thanks again, Hermione,” Harry said, hugging her.

Hermione held her breath for a second as Harry pulled her to him. Luckily, he pulled back quickly, turning to stare avidly at the jar again.

“Harry, uh, I have an appointment,” Hermione said awkwardly, “so if you don’t mind, I have to leave.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Harry said happily. “We found it. That’s all that matters. I’ll see you at her party?”

“Sure,” Hermione said, forcing a smile. “I’ll see you then.”

She turned and walked quickly through the store until she found a safe, hidden spot. She Apparated home quickly, grimacing as it did nothing to help the queasiness in her stomach.
As soon as she was home, she tossed her purse on the couch and headed for the bathroom.

**

Blaise Apparated into Hermione’s living room, looking around for her. He saw her purse on the couch and paused. Looking around, he still didn’t see her.

“Hermione?” he asked but got no response.

His head turned to the bathroom door as he heard a toilet flush and the sink running. A minute later, the door opened and Hermione came out, looking flushed and tired.

“Hermione, are you okay?” Blaise asked quickly, walking over toward her.

She rejected his assistance as she walked over to the couch and sank down on it with a sigh.

“Are you sick?” Blaise asked.

“It’s morning sickness,” Hermione grumbled in a low voice.

“But it’s not morning…”

“I know,” she said darkly, giving him an ugly look. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back on the couch for a second, then opened them quickly and looked at Blaise. “What are you doing here?”

Blaise paused then strolled around the couch but didn’t sit. He looked as though he was contemplating why he really was there.

At length, he sat down, crossing his legs casually. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m seeing someone.”

Hermione had been in the process of wiping her forehead but stilled suddenly at his words. After a second, she put down her hand, staring hard at her lap.

“You are?” she said finally, keeping her voice even.

Blaise shrugged noncommittally, gauging her reaction. “Well, my mother set it up and it’s really best to indulge her.”

“Of course,” Hermione said quietly, thinking. “So what’s she like?”

Blaise waited a moment before replying, still watching Hermione, who was concentrating on her fingers.

“She’s nice, smarter than usual, pretty, of course.”

“Of course,” Hermione echoed, a hint of sarcasm leaking into her words.

“I have to admit that this one isn’t half bad. I didn’t expect to enjoy going out with her, but she seems different than the usual.”

Hermione’s eyes had narrowed but she said nothing.

With a careful glance at her, Blaise continued. “Her family’s rich, but it doesn’t really matter, to me anyway. My mother is thrilled with the prospect. Vanessa’s a wonderful woman.”

“She sounds nice,” Hermione said in a voice of forced calm. “I’m sure you’ll be happy.”

Blaise paused. “You’re okay with this, right? I mean, we’re not together.”

“I know,” Hermione said, somewhat defensively and Blaise raised an eyebrow. “It’s fine. I’m fine. You can date whoever you want, Blaise.”

“I just wanted to check, make sure I’m not breaking some rule about single-parent dating.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want. No one is forcing you to do anything.”

Blaise rose from his chair. “Alright. In that case, I’m meeting Vanessa for dinner. We’re going to that new Italian place across town.”

“Ugh, Italian,” Hermione said, cringing and holding her stomach. “Don’t talk about food.”

“Sorry,” Blaise said dismissively. “But I can’t wait. She’s a whole different world, this woman.”

“I get it,” Hermione said through clenched teeth. “Please, just go.”

He hesitated, looking at her on the couch. He noticed that her stomach was not as flat as usual and felt a flutter of nerves in his chest. He pushed it away, though, trying to observe her reaction to what he said.

“Owl me if something’s wrong,” he said seriously before turning away and Apparating in a crack.

As he vanished, Hermione took a deep breath, raising her gaze from her lap. The silence settled in the flat and she couldn’t help as a tear slid down her face. Brushing it away, she told herself to get a grip. Blaise was perfectly able to date other women. She had known he would. She had no right to be jealous.

Jealous? she thought. Am I really jealous? Of what? That woman? Not possible.

She shook her head, trying to control her emotions, which she had a strong suspicion had to do with hormones.

She wasn’t jealous, and she wasn’t hurt by the fact that he’d met someone he liked. Not in the least.

Wiping away another tear, Hermione rose and headed for the bedroom, intending to lie down and try to forget anything that had just happened.

**

Blaise arrived in his living room, only to find an owl waiting on the coffee table. As soon as he untied the letter, the bird took off, soaring out the open window.

Blaise shook open the letter and read it through quickly.

Blaise,

Heather told me she had a wonderful date the other night. I do hope you stay with her. She’s a lovely girl, very worthy of the Zabini name. I hope to expect a wedding soon, darling. Do let me know how things go!

Mother

As he finished reading, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. He turned to the fireplace and lit a quick fire with his wand, tossing the letter in.

Blaise turned from the fire, thinking to himself. If his observations had been right, Hermione had not liked the mention of Vanessa, so much like herself, a threat. This thought gave rise to a thrill that ran through Blaise’s body. Maybe Vanessa had been right. Maybe he needed to ask Hermione.


~~**~~