One More Time

*


“Good morning.”

Blaise opened his eyes slowly, shifting under the warm covers, his hand sliding around the body next to him. He smiled as the woman snuggled closer.

“Morning,” he murmured, leaning over and kissing the top of the woman’s head.

“How’d you sleep?”

Blaise sighed contentedly and rubbed Hermione’s back. “Wonderfully.”

He heard Hermione laugh and knew she was smiling. Her hand slid up his chest as she stretched. “I’m so glad everything worked out,” she breathed, kissing his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling her closer and closing his eyes.

“Blaise?”

“Yeah?”

“Blaise!”

Blaise closed his eyes tighter and groaned softly. “What?” he asked.

He felt a hand on his chest, someone pushing themselves up. He opened his eyes reluctantly and saw a pretty blond with the covers pulled up over her chest staring down at him.

“You fell asleep, sweetie,” the woman said with a shrill giggle. She ran a manicured nail down his chest and he struggled not to cringe. “I knew I was good, but not that good.”

“Er, yeah, Jenna,” Blaise muttered, sitting upright, the sheet falling down to his waist. He rubbed his face and sighed, glancing at the clock.

It read three in the afternoon. He’d finally gotten around to sending her that Owl his mother had insisted upon. It had ended where he’d thought it would. She was just like all the others; no substance, no original thought, only a mind for money and clothes. Blaise didn’t see how his mother thought a woman like this would make him happy. How could he possibly be interested in marrying a girl with absolutely no substance?

Blaise sighed, more to himself than anyone else, and slid off the bed, grabbing a new pair of boxers and slipping them on. He didn’t look as Jenna redressed, pulling on her slinky thong and too-short skirt. Most women Blaise knew preferred to go with the Muggle look nowadays because of the increased options available.

When she had squeezed into her top that hugged her midriff, she moved over to where he was staring out the window at the clouds that were gathering in the distance. She slid her arms around his stomach, not noticing how he stiffened at her touch.

“Blaise, my sweet,” she whispered in his ear, “my father is having a little get together next week at his country mansion. I would love for you to come.”

Blaise paused. He knew this was the last time he would see this particular girl. Turning from the window, he gave Jenna a kind smile, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“Jenna, I’m afraid this can’t go on,” he said in a voice that appeared polite. “I don’t see this going anywhere.”

“Well, who said it would?” Jenna countered, sliding her hands under his shirt. She gave him a sly smile. “My father has a very big estate with many unused rooms.”

Blaise caught her arms and removed them from under his shirt. “As do I, but we don’t need to use them all.”

Jenna pouted for a second. “Blaisey, I know what this is about. Your mother won’t be happy if you send me away. I’m your only chance.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow at this girl’s audacity. “I don’t count on chances. Now, go find another man to peddle your whorish ways on.”

Jenna looked properly disgruntled as he led her to the door and opened it for her. She turned around just as she stepped onto the front porch.

“You sure we can’t work something out?” she said, leaning in to his lips.

He stopped her before she got too close, giving her a small push away. “No,” he said simply, taking a step back and shutting the door in her face.

He had no worries about her rebounding. Girls like that never had any problems.

Walking back to the living room, he sunk down onto his couch. He’d been getting tired of Jenna in the last few weeks. It was about time to move on. He knew his mother wouldn’t be happy, but she would undoubtedly pull another of the same sort out of the woodwork. He wasn’t worried about her.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang and Blaise glanced up. His maid answered the door, and he heard her being dismissed by a disdainful voice. Moments later, his mother appeared in the doorway to the living room.

“Blaise, darling,” Isabella greeted him, coming over and kissing him on the cheek. She sat down in a white leather chair and crossed her legs. “How are you?”

“Hello, mother,” Blaise said simply. “I’m doing well, and you?”

“Oh,” Isabella said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m as well as can be expected. Did you know Robert’s family was comprised of such boorish people? The funeral was dreadfully boring, don’t you think?”

Blaise nodded, recollecting the funeral that had taken place a week ago. It had been Robert Wilmerand, his mother’s tenth husband. She never seemed too interested in keeping them around. He wondered who she would marry next and how much they would be worth.

Isabella paused, regarding her son closely. She glanced around his house then back at him. “Where’s Jenna? I thought you had a date today.”

“She’s gone,” Blaise said. “I didn’t care for her.”

“Oh, darling,” Isabella sighed. “What am I going to do with you? That’s the fourth one you’ve let go. What was wrong with her? She was such a beautiful girl.”

“Beautiful and vapid,” Blaise replied boredly. “She could barely read.”

“What does that matter?” Isabella said dismissively. “She doesn’t need to read. She needs to stay home and take care of the children.”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “Mother, if I have to marry and idiot, I’d prefer one who could at least hold a decent conversation.”

“Marry an idiot? Darling, you will marry the most beautiful girl and have wonderful children to uphold the family name.”

Blaise paused. “What if the girl isn’t conventionally beautiful?”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“Simply that not every girl is Miss Universe pretty.”

“Oh posh,” Isabella said. “I will find you a lovely wife. You know it’s my greatest desire to have you married and happy.”

Blaise said nothing in response. He knew she wanted him married, and soon. She also wanted a grandson as soon as possible. He almost laughed at how soon it would be that she would have a grandchild, though he was sure she would not be thrilled at who the mother was.

He’d been thinking a lot about what Hermione had asked him a few days ago in her office. He was confident that his mother wouldn’t disown him for having a child out of wedlock, but he could never be too sure.

When he and Hermione had been together, Isabella hadn’t been the most welcoming person. She was always the first to point out Hermione’s faults and suggest that Blaise was worth much better. She had been delighted at the news of their breakup and quickly set him up with someone completely unlike Hermione.

Blaise humored her mostly because he felt he had nothing better to do. After the breakup with Hermione, he hadn’t felt like doing anything. The set-ups were an excuse to go out and try to go back to what his life had been like before Hermione.

Before, he’d been a playboy. He went out almost every night to the hottest clubs in London, often going home with a different girl each time. He spent a lot of his time traveling and meeting new people. He wasn’t interested in having a steady girlfriend, and though his mother had pushed then for settling down, it hadn’t been nearly as insistent as it had become lately.

He had always known Hermione. In school, she had been the annoying know-it-all, praised by all the teachers except Snape. He had been fairly quiet in school, though he was smart. He watched for seven years as she was praised and improved her mind.

At the time, it had bothered him how much she wanted the approval of her teachers, of her friends. He didn’t like how much attention she attracted, but he had supposed this was because he himself didn’t like drawing attention to himself.

He watched as she became friends with Ron and Harry. He didn’t know much about them, and he really didn’t care. He glimpsed her throughout the war, helping them along. He knew she hadn’t changed.

After the war ended and things settled down, Blaise had gotten a job at the Daily Prophet and was now much more involved in the world. Before, he’d preferred to stay out of the world, watching from the sideline as it ran itself into the ground.

He met Hermione on an assignment. He was assigned to cover a trial of a Death Eater in the Ministry and she’d been one of the judges in the case. At first glance, he’d recognized her, though she didn’t seem to know him very well. She did know his name, though.

Blaise didn’t know what had made him ask her out, but after the trial ended, he found himself approaching her and asking if she’d like to have coffee.

She’d been standoffish as first, cautious of his motives and connections, but as time went on, he’d convinced her that he was sincere. He learned a lot about her in the few months they dated.

His impression of her being a know-it-all still stood up under scrutiny, but he learned it was because of a true desire to learn. She was passionate about learning new things, reading especially. Blaise learned that Hermione loved to learn. She loved to read, to study, to be able to answer questions when they were asked. She loved to be able to point people in the right direction, to help them.

One thing Blaise had always meant to do, and had been planning to do for a long time, was show Hermione his library. In his house, there was a rather large room in the back with wood paneling on one wall and a huge window on the other, opening up to a rolling pasture behind the house. Inside this room was more books than Blaise could ever hope to read.

Most of these books, he had inherited from his many step-fathers. His mother knew he loved to read so whenever one would pass, his books would be added to Blaise’s collection, finally coming to the library.

The room was well-lit and much natural light came from the windows. Some days, Blaise just went to the library and settled himself on the plush couch before the window and pulled a book off the shelf just to read. He found it particularly comforting on winter days when snow drifted from the sky and he had a book and a mug of hot chocolate.

He’d intended to show the room to Hermione for many months while they had dated, but had never gotten around to it. He was sure she would have loved it.

Blaise sighed as he heard a thunderclap. As he looked up, he saw out the window that the sky had grown dark and rain had started, pattering the window as it came down.

“Dear, it’s raining,” Isabella said. “And I was going to meet Narcissa for tea.”

Blaise glanced at her and paused. He wondered what she would say if he told her about Hermione. In the end, he knew it was best not to say anything. “I’m sure you still can,” he said.

“Yes,” Isabella sighed. “I suppose I’d best be off, then.” She stood up and smoothed down her robes. Blaise could hear the tinkling of gold bracelets on her wrist as she did so. She moved to the door, followed by Blaise. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll find you someone better than Jenna.”

Blaise refrained from rolling his eyes. “Yes, mother.”

She smiled at him and gave him a pat on his hand before opening the door and stepping out, Apparating away before the rain even hit her head.

Blaise closed the door slowly, turning and staring at his empty house. After a moment’s contemplation, he turned and went down a darkened hallway to the back of the house.

Pulling open and pair of double doors, he stepped into a huge room with books lining all the walls. He glanced around and took a deep breath. Stepping over to one of the walls, Blaise, ran his finger along the spines of the old books until he came to one and grabbing it, pulled it out of its place.

He then walked over to the couch situated by the window and sat down in it. With a tap of his wand, he lighted the lamp, casting a warm glow into the room. After a moment looking out the window where rain was pelting down, he sighed, cracking the book open and beginning to read.

***

Hermione stood under her large black umbrella, almost ignorant to the pouring rain that drenched the sidewalk around her. Many people were bustling by, hidden under their raincoats and umbrellas.

Hermione wasn’t paying them any attention. Instead, she was focused on the store in front of her. The large display window was filled with baby items such as cradles, mobiles, clothes, and toys. She watched as a couple entered the store, the man helping his wife.

Hermione sighed and hesitated. She’d been staring in the window for the past ten minutes. She hadn’t intended to come this way, to look in this store. Now she was here, though, and she couldn’t bring herself to go away.

With a furtive glance around her, she slipped into the store. She shook her umbrella and closed it, looking around her. The store was brightly lit and pastels jumped out at her everywhere she turned.

“May I take your coat?”

Hermione jumped as a sales girl appeared out of nowhere. She frowned and pulled her overcoat tighter around herself protectively.

“No, that’s alright.”

The girl simply smiled. “Anything I can help you with, miss?”

“No, I… I’m just looking,” Hermione said, forcing a polite smile.

The girl left with an assurance that if Hermione needed any help she would be there. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as the girl walked away. She turned back to the store, releasing her jacket slightly.

She wasn’t showing yet but she felt exposed otherwise. She knew she was risking exposure simply by entering this shop. She figured, however, that is was unlikely to meet any of her acquaintances in here. Very few of her friends had children so they had no need to be shopping for baby items.

Hermione turned and wandered down an aisle, past many pastel baby clothes. She fingered one and bit her lip. She couldn’t imagine that soon she would actually have to buy these. After passing several rows of clothes, she came to the area that housed many different cribs.

She ran her hand down a mahogany crib, feeling the smooth wood under her fingers. She paused for a moment, looking at the crib. She was thinking of her flat. Was there even room for something like this? It wasn’t a small flat, but it wasn’t huge either. She hadn’t thought about this yet.

As she stared around her at the many cribs, she felt her throat closing up. It was so difficult and it had barely started. She couldn’t imagine what was going to happen in a few months. She had nowhere to put a baby. She would have to move. And how would she explain that?

Hermione felt her emotions taking over her as she stood in the middle of the store. She couldn’t help it. It was all so much.

Her eyes misted over and she dabbed at them quickly, lest someone see. She took her hand off the mahogany crib and turned away, heading to where there were millions of children’s toys lining a wall.

As she stood staring up at the many choices, she heard a voice calling her name behind her.

“Hermione!”

Her eyes widened and her body stiffened. Her hands automatically tugged her jacket closer as she heard the person approaching.

“Hermione!” the voice called again. “Hermione, what are you doing here?”

Hermione turned slowly to see Lavender Weasley, formerly Brown, behind her. Hermione gave her a forced smile.

“Lavender, how are you?”

Lavender smiled and placed her hands on her protruding belly. “Wonderful. We’re so happy. It’s our third one, you know. Little Percy junior and Marion are so excited for a new brother or sister.”

Hermione’s smile didn’t falter. Lavender had married Percy Weasley just a few years ago, a suspicious circumstance since Percy junior was just three years old and he had been born just a few months after the wedding. Hermione never said anything to the fact, but it was widely acknowledged that Lavender hadn’t been the most prudent girl.

“What are you doing here?” Lavender asked, looking Hermione up and down. “Oh! Are you pregnant?”

Hermione blanched but quickly recovered herself. “No, I’m just… shopping for a friend. She’s having a baby shower.”

“Oh,” Lavender said, sounding a little disappointed. “Well, Hermione, I know you’re the big career-powered woman, but you should consider settling down and having a baby.” Lavender grabbed her arm and began steering her over to another part of the shop. “It’s so rewarding to stay home with the children and watch them grow up. How about I set you up? I know some very eligible men who might be willing to go out with you.”

Hermione’s expression was no longer the fake smile. It was rather insulted instead as she listened to Lavender. “That’s alright,” she said, a little coldly. “I don’t need to be set-up.”

Lavender dropped her arm and turned to her, an excited look on her face. “Are you seeing someone? Who is he? Do I know him? Is he handsome? Is he rich? Do you think you’ll have a spring wedding or a fall? I’ve always preferred spring. It seems so much more elegant, don’t you?”

Hermione couldn’t get a word in edgewise as Lavender talked on about weddings. Finally, Hermione stopped walking and Lavender was forced to turn around.

“No, Lavender,” she said firmly. “I’m not seeing anyone. And if I was, I wouldn’t have a spring wedding!” She then turned and strode away from a confused Lavender.

Hermione let out a harsh breath as she stepped outside the shop, opening her umbrella as she did so. She splashed out into the torrential rain and set off down the sidewalk.

If this was a taste of what would happen when she told someone about the baby, she didn’t want to and that was final.


~~**~~


A/N: Yay! Another chapter :) Please review!