Chapter Text
"Hey…" Andromeda began as Hermione was magically inspecting a shipment of new books. A few books had sustained minor dents, which she removed; others had gotten wet from yesterday’s rain. She dried those books with a simple spell while Andromeda continued: "What are you doing tonight?"
"I’m going to keep reading the book from this morning. I could hardly put it down because the two characters in the book almost kissed." Andromeda didn’t say anything for a moment, which made Hermione suspicious. She had been working for the other witch for three years, knowing that her sister could walk in at any moment, any day, and she had successfully avoided her a few times already. Not because she was afraid of Narcissa. She just didn’t want to see the woman. But Andromeda never asked anything just like that. There was always a reason, and so she asked why, and looked at the woman.
Andromeda grinned a little and said: "I’d like to invite you to dinner, no…" she said quickly as Hermione was already taking a breath to protest, "It has nothing to do with your birthday. I know you don’t want to celebrate it. The restaurant is just very… special. You don’t always get a table." She cleared her throat: "The invitation is just a meal. As a thank you for working here, and for managing to work without me finding you reading in a corner." She winked at Hermione amusedly. Hermione grinned, knowing that had almost been the case a few times.
"If you say it’s hard to get a table there… wherever it is. When did you make the reservation, then?"
"Four months ago," Andromeda said mischievously, and Hermione recognized the Slytherin in her. She sighed and gave in. She couldn’t back out now that Andromeda had made the reservation months ago…
She was allowed to go home early that day. After resting a bit—which, for her, meant reading one of her many books until she dozed off briefly—she went into her bedroom. She stood in front of her open wardrobe and was just about to look for a suitable dress when she heard a tapping at her window. She turned around and spotted an owl outside the window with a brush tied to its leg.
She walked past her king-size bed, opened the window, and took the brush from the owl, on which she discovered a note.
'This is your Portkey for tonight. It will take you to Paris, right in front of the restaurant, at 7:30 p.m. sharp.'
"England would be too close," Hermione remarked sarcastically, and her suspicion grew that it might be a secret party after all. She shook the thought away. No, Andromeda knew why. She knew it only reminded her of her parents, and the birthdays when they had even sent her a piece of cake to Hogwarts. Andromeda knew that Hermione thought back to that moment especially on her birthday. It was the moment when she had stood behind her parents, wand in hand, and with a trembling voice had cast the spell that had erased her face from all the pictures. She took a moment to catch her breath, not knowing if the pain would ever stop. Knowing that she would never see her parents again.
When she was in Australia two years after the war and found her parents, she realized she hadn’t considered something crucial. Two years was a long time. Two years during which her parents didn’t know they had been protected from Death Eaters. Two years during which they had built a new life without realizing it was a new life. They had friends, a son. Hermione’s brother, who would have no idea about any of it.
She couldn’t change all of this again and ruin it.
She wiped away a tear and pulled herself together. Andromeda had reserved a table four months ago. That it happened to fall on her birthday… well. There was nothing she could do about it, even if that didn’t make it any better. But she had to pull herself together for Andromeda. She knew… deep down, that she was allowed to just have a nice evening for once. She finally chose a dark red dress with a slight neckline, took a shower, applied subtle makeup, and put on the dress. She pinned her hair up at first, then tied it back, and finally left it down. It wasn’t a date. Just dinner with a good friend.
The brush began to glow slightly, and she quickly picked out a pair of high heels before leaving the house. With the brush in her hand, she ran into a nearby alley and took a deep breath. She often avoided portkeys, as they sometimes made her feel like she was inside a washing machine drum. But when the usual pull appeared, everything happened very quickly, and she landed gently in a new alley in Paris and saw an opulent restaurant across the street. It was called 'Lis,' and it was truly beautiful. Through one of the large windows, she could make out just a few tables and already felt a slight pang of hunger. No wonder—she’d only had a croissant and a small piece of cake today.
She smoothed her dress to iron out nonexistent wrinkles and was just about to cross the street when a woman appeared out of nowhere right in front of the restaurant.
Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. She recognized her even in the last light of day. She would recognize this woman anywhere. That dark brown, almost black hair, streaked with blonde highlights, belonged to a face she hadn’t seen in five years. Or at least only for a fraction of a second. She hesitated.
Why was Narcissa Malfoy—no… Black—here, right here, right now?!
She tried to spot Andromeda through the window, just to have a reason not to go home. But she couldn’t see her, and Narcissa vanished from view as well. Her heart was racing in her chest, pounding so hard it felt like it was in her throat, and she clenched her fists. Memories scratched at the surface, but she couldn’t let them overwhelm her. Four months. Andromeda had kept this evening a secret for four months, and Narcissa Black wasn’t going to ruin it.
She mustered her Gryffindor courage, crossed the street, and was greeted moments later by soft music and warmth that almost made her forget the shock of just now. She told the waiter, who greeted her, that she had a reservation with Andromeda Tonks. He nodded and led her past a few tables to an empty one. She sat down, and he assured her that her companion would be there shortly before he magically filled her water glass and left her alone. It wasn’t long before she heard footsteps approaching. Her intuition told her what her ears confirmed: those weren’t Andromeda’s footsteps. They sounded similar, but were… more precise. It wasn’t Andromeda… she almost didn’t dare to look back. Not right away.