Blinding State of Affairs

Chapter Two

The dress was too tight. Too tight and too short. Hermione glanced over at Ginny who was finishing her hair in the mirror and clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. It was a signal of clear disapproval for the curly-haired woman. That made the redhead pinch her lips together to avoid smiling. "Don't give me that look, Hermione," Ginny said, flipping her freshly curled hair over her shoulder.

"Gin, I can't wear this," she declared quietly with a nod while reviewing her own makeup.

"You can and you will. What better way to show my brother he's the idiot, who married Lavender Brown instead of you, than to show up and get hit on by old classmates," she retorted with a sharp pivot of her body.

Hermione ran fingers over her neck and let her head swivel before acknowledging herself in the mirror fully. It was a beautiful violet dress with this skin-tight form. Her chest was practically begging to be thrown out of the fabric but was confounded by the straps that ran up and behind her neckline. The wild curls she hardly could tame were in an elaborate clip that helped them cascade in fluid motion behind her.

"I do look pretty decent. I haven't prettied myself up in some time. Between work and Teddy, I usually contemplate jeans and t-shirts." She murmured finally, and Ginny beamed.

"Think of it as a 'not looking back,' type night. Don't you think it is about time you did something for yourself?" she asked Hermione, who snorted unattractively.

"Yes, doing something for myself. Like I need it. Come on, Harry must be positively twitchy from waiting. I cannot believe you both decided on old jerseys."

Ginny rolled her eyes, running her hands over the old uniform. "We were on the football team together. I am quite sure each one of the players is going to come in their jerseys."

"Ten years. Well, hopefully, most of them still have their smelly old uniforms," Hermione teased with a small smile.

"Ha. Ha. So funny," Ginny's voice was full of sarcasm as they left the bathroom and prepared for the evening ahead.

The music was so loud it was god awful. They actually listened to this rubbish back then? Hermione was desperately seeking solace from the loud booming when she found a nice corner of the bar. She thought this party was going to be more exquisite and it turned out to be an utter bust.

"What are you havin', Miss?" The question from the bartender interrupted her thoughts.

"Martini, dirty please," Hermione murmured, and the young man went to work.

"Dirty, please? My god that sounds delicious!" a familiar voice sounded over the music.

Hermione turned to see a menace. "Zabini, please leave me alone," Hermione groaned, and he approached with a broad smile.

The dark man gave her a once over before sitting on the stool next to her. "Is that you Granger? Hell has frozen over and made you its queen," he teased with a wicked smirk.

The martini slid in front of her, and she placed a few notes down for the bartender. "Thank you," she declared before turning to the relentless man. "Why haven't you left yet?" she questioned before sipping her drink.

"I wasn't joking, you look absolutely delicious," he smirked, and she rolled her eyes.

"Where is your Royal Runt team, Zabini?" Hermione said with an arched eyebrow.

Blaise frowned and slid his empty bottle on the counter. "Another," he ordered. "They are around I suppose. Malfoy might even show up tonight if he isn't pouting."

The woman sighed heavily after taking another sip. "Go find someone else to spend your time with. I am in no mood."

As if fate would be so cruel, Ron Weasley and Lavender were walking her way. Hermione internally swore, and Blaise caught her gaze. "Oh, Weasley and his little flower. We always thought you two would get together and have babies by the litter." He told her, and she stuck her nose further in the air.