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Drinking Buddies	By : Alcoholic_Rootbeer Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 25654 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the world of Harry Potter. I am not making profit off of this story. I am writing it for fun only.

Chapter List
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The morning came dismally fast, sunlight peering past the curtains of Hermione’s bedroom. An arm draped her shoulder, cloaking her in warmth. In her groggy morning state, she turned over, expecting to see Ron, but what she got instead was the sight of a contently sleeping Draco Malfoy. His face had never looked more serene, mouth parted slightly, white-blonde hair hanging around the edges of his sharp features. Hermione tried to remember how he had gotten here… Oh God.

Hermione shot straight up in bed, stirring the sleeping Slytherin alumni as his arm fell. “OH God…” She whispered. “Oh my… oh my goodness…” She nudged Draco in the shoulder. “Malfoy… Malfoy wake up.”

“Stop…” He grumbled, fisting the covers and pulling them tight against him. His eyebrows furrowed together, but he did not open his eyes. “Give me five more, will you?”

“No.” She shoved his shoulder again, more forceful this time. He looked up at her through slits. “You’re in my bed.”

“Really? Hadn’t noticed.” His sarcasm was sharp. “Perhaps you’d like me to transfigure it into a clock? So you can give me five more minutes.”

“This is serious.” Hermione twisted her body towards him and the covers fell off her. That’s when she noticed… “I’m naked.”

“I can see that.”

“I’m naked. In bed. With you.”

“Five points to Gryffindor.” He rubbed his tired eyes and scooted up on the bed. “And five points from Gryffindor for bothering me in my sleep.”

“We… we had sex last night.” She stated, image after image of a naked Malfoy on top of her, underneath her, doing such amazing things with his hands and mouth and body. Pink flushed through her cheeks.

“Twice.” He mused, eyes fully open now and staring at her with a sinful smirk. “I really should take another shower. That last one was quite dirty.” Hermione felt her mouth slack and closed it a few moments later. She glanced down at herself, embarrassed, and quickly drew the covers up and around her frame. “Getting shy on me now?”

“I… I might need some time to process this.” Her hand went up to her forehead. Was she having a fever dream? No. Her head was quit cool. “I only broke up with Ronald yesterday. Oh, Ronald…” She winced at his name. “All he did was kiss another woman and I… and with you…”

The smirk from Draco’s mouth fell slack, but he did not say a word. He nodded in agreement.

“I’m sorry.” Hermione fidgeted with the comforter. “That came out wrong.”

Draco shrugged, sitting completely upright. The blanket fell loosely around his middle, leaving his bare chest out in the open. Hermione could tell he was struggling to control his composure as he pulled himself out of bed and started to thread his feet into his pant legs. When he looped his belt in place, he came around to the other side of the bed and gathered up his shirt, slipping it over his head in a casual way. He found his wand, which had been discarded on the floor the previous night, and tucked it in his back pocket. “See you at work, Granger.”

“Draco.” Hermione’s hand extended out and caught his wrist lightly. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You didn’t.” His tone was cold. “I’ve an early shift.” He stared down at her hand as if waiting for her to remove it. When she didn’t, he plucked it off of him and stepped out of her reach. “I told you I wasn’t going to be a third wheel to a Weasley.”

“You aren’t.” Hermione said quietly. “This is all… just… so soon. I just need to process my emotions. That’s all.”

“Right.” He straightened his back with a look of superiority. “Well, don’t beat yourself up about it. It was just some fun. All that sexual tension after all those years of making each other’s lives Hell. Honestly, I’m surprised we didn’t get it out of the way sooner.”

“I…” She glared at him. “You’re joking.”

His face contorted to a playful grin, but it was hollow. “I’m not confessing my undying love for you. So you can just stop with the face. We had fun. Nothing to feel guilty about.” He shifted towards the door, stopped, and then turned back to face her. “I’ll see you at work.” He nodded curtly, but there was something sincere etched in his expression. He left the room, taking with it the tension and Hermione’s train of thought.

---

“Talk to him.” Harry crossed his arms stubbornly as Hermione ordered her morning coffee from the small shop across the street from the entrance to the Ministry. “He’s a wreck.”

“And I’m not?” Hermione quipped, tipping the barista. She led Harry to a small table just past the shop and sat down, watching the hustle and bustle of the average muggles on their ways to wherever. “You do remember how hard it was for me to watch him snog her our sixth year? To hear that he could even go so far as to lie about seeing her again…”

“Hermione, you’re not the jealous type. I know you. So whatever is going on between you and Ron has got to be more than Lavender Brown.” Harry’s face attempted comfort. “Talk to me.”

“I…” Hermione chewed on her lip and thought. “We hadn’t been intimate in quite some time, Harry. I would try, but he would always find some excuse. And he would hardly kiss me these last few weeks…”
Harry listened, taking a sip of his own coffee in solidarity. “And when you told me he had made no intention of coming over to your house when he should have been having dinner with me... Well, I couldn’t believe it. He’s been distant. And maybe so have I. I’m not sure how long we would have made it if Lavender hadn’t come into the picture to egg it on.”

“Ron said you’d been the reserved one.” Harry noted, eyeing her carefully.

“Did he use that word?”

“Not exactly. More along the lines of ‘always in her work’ and ‘never wanting to go out’.”

Hermione sighed. “After all that we’ve gone through, I just simply don’t enjoy outings like I should. Everywhere we go in the Wizarding world, eyes are on us. Harry Potter’s friends who saved the world. No offence, Harry. I’m delighted to be your friend, but when the entire world wants to scrutinize you within an inch of your sanity-”

“I get it.” Harry nodded. “Believe me. I do. –Maybe if you just talked it over with Ron…”

They both saw it at the same time; across the street, in front of the cloaked entrance to the Ministry, stood a very non-broken up Ronald Weasley next to a laughing Lavender Brown and another wizard Hermione recalled that worked in Ron’s department. They all three were smiling and jostling. When Hermione watched Lavender coil her arm around Ron’s, she stood up suddenly, coffee in hand, and hastily made her way across the street. When Ron saw her, he instantly paled.

“Mione, look, I-”

“No need.” Hermione shot her free hand up to silence him, earning the displeased look of Lavender, who let go of Ron’s arm almost immediately. “You don’t need to explain a thing to me, Ronald. I know things between us have been terrible, but I wanted to let you know as of this moment I’m formally letting you off of the hook to do… whatever this is.” She nudged between Lavender and Ron. “I tried to make it clear yesterday, but sending Harry over to try to convince me to see you again, and then to have the nerve to come out here, in public with…” She glared at him. “You might not have kissed her back, but it’s obvious there are feelings there. And this goes far beyond even that.” She jerked her gaze over to Lavender, who looked completely horrified. “I hope you can trust him. He might not let you know if he’s planning on seeing someone else behind your back, so I’d watch out.”

“What’s she going on about?” Asked the third wizard, nudging his thumb over at Hermione. “Lavender, what does she mean you kissed Weasley?”

“Darling, listen, I can explain-” Lavender shot out, but the man had already started to storm off, a slur of obscenities shouted under his breath.

“Then again,” Hermione glared back over to Ron, “Perhaps you both deserve each other.”

“Bloody Hell, Hermione,” Said Ron, exasperated, “This might have not been the only relationship you just ruined!”

“I didn’t ruin it, Ronald! You did!” Hermione shouted angrily, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “I’m sorry I work all the time and don’t have time to go out or enjoy an evening the way you’d like me to! I’m sorry I’m so ‘dull’, as you’ve put it time and time again. If I’m such a bore, maybe this really is the best option. Because I- I…” She lowered her voice. “I won’t play a third wheel to you and Lavender.”

Ron’s ears turned a brilliant shade of red, and he sighed. “You’re right. I’ve tried to pretend that I haven’t seen this coming. I just hoped yesterday was all some nightmare I could wake up from. But… maybe we should figure ourselves out.” Ron bent over and hugged her. “And,” He whispered, “If the universe sees fit to bring us back together in the end, so be it.” He pulled away from the hug, tucked a lock of hair behind Hermione’s ear, and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m really sorry, Hermione.”

“Me too…” Hermione felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. They stared at each other for a moment in understanding, before Ron coughed and released his hold on her.

“See you,” He said, and left Hermione standing alone, cradling her caramel macchiato, as he followed the trail to find Lavender and her fiancé. Hermione watched as Harry approached from the other side of the road carefully, bundling tight in his jacket as a gust of wind picked up. He eyed her reproachfully for a moment then took her in his arms and hugged her tightly.

“You alright?” He whispered in her hair.

“I… I don’t think so.” Hermione felt the inevitable tears fall and gripped Harry tighter. And they stayed that way for a time, until the one o’clock bell chimed and it was time to go back to work. Harry escorted Hermione to her office, gave her a peck on the cheek, and promised that they’d have dinner together real soon, just the two of them. Hermione said she would like that very much, brushed away her stubborn tears, and shoved her way through the double doors, ignoring as she nearly knocked someone over in her hurry to her desk. She took her seat, at the same time noticing Malfoy leaning in his office chair behind her, scrutinizing over some rather thick parchments.

“Granger,” He beckoned her, eyes running this way and that across the page, “What do you make of this? Are they asking a request to procure magic from this particular family heirloom, or simply the spell from which its cast?”

Hermione’s heart sped as she walked around Draco’s desk and leaned over to read the paper, ignoring how intoxicating his cologne was. She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, which reminded her of the way Ron had not an hour before, and she bunched her face up in a pained expression. “Just the spell.” She moved to leave but made the mistake of catching his eye as she stood straight.

“Have you been crying?” He perched an eyebrow.

“It… its nothing.” Hermione rubbed at her swollen eyes and stifled the lump in her throat. “Honestly. I’m just going to go back to work.” He didn’t stop her, and before long she began to pour herself into her work, ignoring the huffy sound of Malfoy as he sighed every ten minutes or so. Eventually, Hermione caved and turned towards him. “Do you think it might be possible for you to keep it down so that the rest of us can work in peace?”

He smirked, happy to have her attention again. “I think the only thing that could convince me would be for you to tell me why you’d be crying on such a lovely Tuesday afternoon. Hope it wasn’t on my account.”

“It wasn’t.”

He frowned. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“Really?” Hermione tried to pretend to shift through her paperwork as her supervisor walked by. When he was out of earshot, she whispered under her breath, “Let’s just say my day has not been as wonderful as yours seems to have been.”

“You think waking up next to me would be a good start.”

“Ron and I had a talked.” She could hear him shift in his seat. “We agreed it would be best if we didn’t see each other for a while.”

“So it’s over, then? The golden couple?”

“It was over a long time ago. We both just didn’t know it.” Hermione struggled to keep the tears at bay again. “Just so we’re clear, what you and I did… It doesn’t mean I’m going to jump into that again. Not any time in the near future. We hardly know each other, and I am not one to have one night shags.” She thought of Ron, of all the pain and torment in her gut as she realized that it was really, one hundred percent over. Guilt threatened to rack her body as she thought of Draco and what they had done. Guilt, not because of what they had done, but of how guiltless she had felt afterwards. “So maybe we should just go back to being coworkers for a little while until I can –I don’t know- figure all of this out.”

She thought she could feel his eyes, like literal daggers, in her back. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say, Granger.”

---

Two weeks went by like that, with Ron avoiding her every chance she got as well as Malfoy, until soon Hermione fell into a depressed stupor. The guilt that she hadn’t felt before had reared its ugly head only days after her confrontation with Ron. She had looked at herself in the mirror just this morning, wondering how she could hold Ron’s attraction to Lavender over his head when she had slept with Malfoy.

That night, she decided she couldn’t stay inside anymore and went around to the local pub, not the one Draco and her first drank together, in hopes of getting a few shots in her to release the uneasy feeling her bones. She knew that it would be cheaper to go to a liquor store, but Hermione didn’t want to be alone. Not tonight, and Harry had already made plans with Ron. She needed the escape.

The pub, just a local muggle one that enjoyed watching soccer on the teli, bustled with energy as Hermione found an abandoned table in the back. She had just got done shrugging off her jacket when a waitress came by and took her order: two beers and a vodka, no chaser. Hermione planned on being pleasantly sloshed before she made it home.

God, what had she become? When her drinks arrived, she ordered some chips to counter the alcohol and watched lazily at an infomercial about athlete’s foot. She was one and a half beers and her vodka in when someone came up through the crowd and met her gaze. “Oh no.” She shook her finger. “Not you. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Where am I supposed to be?” Draco asked, shrugging off his peacoat to reveal a deep burgundy shirt and tweed pants. He sat his coat on the back of the vacant chair across from Hermione and with a resounding plop made his claim to the spot. Hermione looked dully at him, sipping her beer.

“Anywhere else.” She grumbled. She stuffed a few chips into her mouth and chewed. Her head swam with the rush of alcohol’s kiss. Draco eyed her empty mugs, her face full of greasy food, and whistled.

“When you go downhill, you like to take the entire slope with you.” He snatched up one of her chips and chewed thoughtfully.

“Go away.” Hermione groaned.

“Why?”

“Because the last two times I had alcohol in my system around you, I did things.”

“Me.” He corrected. “You did me.”

Her eyes widened and she struggled to swallow her food. When she did, she gave him a look of contempt. Then her face softened. “Why are you here, Malfoy? It’s not like you to come into a muggle establishment.”

“You don’t know what I’m like to make that assumption. –But you are correct. I didn’t come in here to watch their picture screens. You’ve looked like Hell at work. And how many people do you think are buying that you have the flu? They all can tell you and Weasley are over. I’m surprised it’s not on the front of Witch Weekly.”

“Cheeky.” Hermione stuck out her tongue. “So why are you stalking me in a pub? Aren’t you afraid of becoming the front page for being out with Hermione Granger?”

Draco scoffed. “I hardly think that would be any juicy gossip. Now, if I were out and about with Golden boy himself, that’s another story.” He wagged his finger in front of her. “You and I are drinking buddies, Granger. And I’m here tonight to tell you you’ve had a bit too much.” He moved her nearly empty mug across the table towards him and took a sip. “Yuck. What is this?”

“Beer,” She replied. Draco made a scrunched up face and shook his head.

“Nope, don’t like that stuff. Nothing like butterbeer.” He tapped his fingers on the table, unable to keep still. “Let’s pay for your shite and get you in bed.”

“You,” Hermione announced, waved an accusing finger in his face, lips tingly and head blurry, “You don’t get to tell me what to do. What gives you the right?”

“Drinking buddies.” He smirked. “I’d pay, but I doubt they take wizard currency. So come on, Granger, shovel it out.” He reached over and searched through the pockets of her jacket, found her wallet, and pulled out fifty pounds.

“That’s way too much!” She protested, but he scooted her out of the chair and onto her feet, mumbling, “For putting up with your arse, it should be plenty.” He wrapped her coat around her shoulders, retrieved his own, and ushered her out the door. When the cool air hit Hermione’s face, she cringed and bit down on her lip. “Prat.”

“You’re so articulate when you’re sloshed.”

He grabbed her around the middle, not in a sexual way but rather annoyed, and apparated them there on the spot. The next thing Hermione saw were the steps to her front door. Draco removed his hand once they settled, and dragged her by the arm up to her front door, where he fished her keys from her pockets and asked her, “Which one?”

Hermione glared at him.

“Which one, Granger?”

She didn’t say, only continued to stare until she reached up and pushed him in the chest. “You…” She seethed. “You’re the reason Ron and I are over! I should punch you square in the face like I did back at Hogwarts!” She grabbed at his coat, fighting back the tears. “We were happy once, you know! Ron and I… And… And then I saw you and that pub and I…” Her fingers relaxed. “Then I…” Her eyelashes fluttered as the beat back hot tears. “I’m sorry, Malfoy. I was wrong. You’re not the reason.” Her breath caught and she choked back a sob. “I just don’t know what got into me when you and I…” She leaned her head on his chest and sniffled. “I didn’t know I could see you that way.” She knew she was ruining his coat, but continued to cry. “And the way you looked at me… it was the way I wished Ron had looked at me all our lives…”

She sobbed gently into his chest, letting the tears fall and the alcohol warm over her bones. Malfoy simply stood there, mouth slightly agape, keys still in hand. He was obviously unsure of how to console a crying Granger, so he settled on patting her awkwardly on the back.

“There, there…” He said flatly. “Erm, you’ll be okay. Stiff upper lip and all that.”

Hermione gathered her thoughts, feeling a little less buzzed, and peeled herself off of him as she wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve. “Sorry…”

“S’alright.” He smirked. “Be glad I got you out of that pub or you’d be crying into fish and chips right about now.”

Hermione managed a small laugh and pointed to the bigger, silver key on her keyring. “That one.”

Draco nodded and immediately went to work on the key lock. He opened the door, looked to her, and said politely, “I’d walk you in, but that might be a bit informal of a coworker.”

Hermione flinched at the words. “Draco, when I said that-”

“No need in an excuse.” He waved his hand to dismiss her. “Really, I don’t need one.”

“But I do. I need to get this off of my chest, before the alcohol wears off.” She looked to the still open door and then back to him. “What we did… I don’t normally do that.”

“What? Shag some prick from your class year that you can barely stand to talk to?”

“Shut it. Let me talk.” She crossed her arms. Draco gave her an amused, curious look and nodded for her to continue. “I don’t have one night stands, Draco Malfoy. And most certainly with pricks from my class year that I can barely stand to talk to.” The corners of her lips pulled upwards. Then a thought formed in her head, solidified, and stayed there. She straightened her back, uncrossed her arms and said quietly, “Which is why you’re going to take me to dinner.”

Draco’s face blanched. “I am?”

“Yes.” She nodded, determined. “I’m not a fling. And you told me that night that I shouldn’t feel guilty. That you wanted to take the guilt, but that’s not entirely the case. What we did… I wanted it just as much as you did.” Her eyes trailed off, contemplating.

“Who says I want to take you to dinner?” Draco jeered. Hermione shot up eyes like daggers, and he instantly back tracked, saying, “On second thought, dinner sounds agreeable.” He rubbed a speck of invisible dirt off his jacket and continued. “Next Friday. I pick the restaurant. I don’t trust you to pick an acceptable location.”

Hermione shrugged off his attempt at reprimanding her and smiled. “Next Friday sounds wonderful. After work?”

“Yeah, sure.” He chewed on the dry skin of his lip in thought. He reached over, took the keys out of her door, and handed them to her. “Well, then… erm, goodnight, Granger.” He tilted his head forward, bowed slightly as Malfoy’s did when attempting to be cordial, and awkwardly backed down her steps and turned away into the night. After a moment, Hermione heard the crack of his disapparation and stepped inside her house, hiding a subtle smile on her face.

___

The rest of the week went by at a snail’s pace. Hermione attempted to keep the relationship between her and Draco cordial and professional, as to not sully the awkward atmosphere between them further. Draco went along with the charade, though he did let her first name slip through his lips from time to time. Hermione hadn’t spoken to Ron at all since they had fought in front of the coffee shop, and by the third week in had even gone so far as to taking the Floo to work to avoid seeing him at the usual entrance they both took.

By the following Friday, she had started having lunches with Harry and only Harry. Today she watched him as he took a drag off of a bummed cigarette outside of their favorite deli.

“Those things are terrible for you.” Hermione chided.

“They take the stress off everything,” Replied Harry. He finished his cancer stick, threw it to the ground, and stared up at the sky above them. “With Ron staying over so much lately I can hardly get some time to myself.”

“How is he?” She put her hands in her pockets and followed his gaze.

“Honestly, he’s been a prick lately. Sits on my couch all night playing my video games, cursing so loud I can hardly sleep. Don’t get me wrong. Ron’s my best friend. But without you to level him out he can turn into a right git.”

“It’s a good thing we’re not having dinner this weekend, then.” Hermione laughed quietly. “You don’t sound like you’d make good company.”

“Ginny’s gone on tournament leave. I love hearing it when her team wins, but it gets lonely. And then Ron just makes it lonelier.” He ruffled her hair and smiled. “Going back to work?”

“I took a half day, actually. I’m going to go home and soak in a hot bath before…” Before, she thought idly, she had her date with Draco. Assuming he still wanted to. Assuming she did. And didn’t she? She refused to answer her own question.

“Before… what?”

She glanced away. “Oh, you know. Before I wrap myself up in a good book and fall asleep.”

She took her leave then, giving Harry a sideways hug to avoid his cigarette infused smell, and apparated back to her house, where she kicked off her shoes once entering and gave a heavy sigh. She ran herself a bath, picked out a lengthy book, and settled in to the hot water just in time to hear three light raps at her door. “Oh, for goodness sake.” Hermione grabbed up a long towel hanging near the tub, wrapped it around herself, and padded to the front door. “Just a moment!” She called, making sure to secure the towel snugly before she peeled the door open, making only her head visible. “Can I help… you.” Suddenly very conscious she was in nothing but a towel, she eeked out, “What are you doing here?”

“You keep asking me this. Don’t you get tired of it?” Draco Malfoy leaned up against the doorframe, still in his work robes. “You going to let me in? I’m sure the muggle community outside are just so eager to know why I’m wearing-”

“Oh, get in here!” Hermione reached out and yanked him in, shutting the door quickly. Draco gave her a once over in her towel and smirked.

“You didn’t have to dress up for me.”

Hermione gripped the top of her towel. “You’re supposed to be at work.”

“So are you.”

“I took a half day.”

“Trying to weasel out of our plans already?”

“No, I was just getting ready for them. By bathing. Until I was interrupted.”

Draco grinned. “Well, don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh!” Hermione rolled her eyes and shoved him down onto the couch. “Stay here. Honestly…” She grumbled as she made her way into the bathroom, shut the door, and turned the lock forcefully. She added an extra locking spell just to be safe, pulled off her towel, and ran herself a shower instead. Thirty minutes later she was out of the shower and done drying her hair. She had attempted to stay the curls, but they won over in the end anyways. All she could do was keep it from frizzing. She nuzzled the towel back around herself, tip toed across the hall into her bedroom, and grumbled as she attempted to find something to wear. “Why are you here?” She shouted out her door at him.

“Hmm?” Draco called back to her.

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Didn’t feel like it. Wanted to make sure you didn’t drink yourself into a stupor.”

Hermione pulled a red, long sleeved sweater over her head and settled on a pair of black slacks. She walked into the living room just in time to see Draco raise a disapproving eyebrow.

“Tell me you’re not wearing that.”

“What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“Am I going out to dinner with a woman or an elderly gentleman? I can’t tell.”

“Oh, as if you have something so much better.” Hermione huffed and placed her hands on her hips. Draco rose from his seat on the sofa and unclasped his robes to reveal a nice, long sleeve silk shirt the color of emeralds and a decent pair of slacks. “That… that’s actually quite nice.”

“So, go put on something equally as nice.” He chided, swinging both hands towards her bedroom. Hermione groaned and begrudgingly did as she was told, stepping out next in a grey pleated pencil skirt and a white ruffle blouse. Draco nodded and clapped mockingly. “She does have taste!”

“Just because I don’t parade myself like a common hooker doesn’t mean I can’t dress nicely when the occasion calls for it. –You should have been working.”

“But then when would I have the time to mock your attire and force you to wear this stunning thing?” He teased. “Unless you’d rather just skip straight to the part where I take it off of you.”

“Stop.” Hermione put a hand up to his face and said, “That’s not going to happen. Tonight is about you taking me out for a respectable evening. Are we clear?”

“Define respectable…”

“Talking. Dinner. No drinking. Maybe a movie or – you don’t know what a movie is,” She hesitated.

“Don’t degrade me. I’ve learned a thing or two living on my own. I know what the moving pictures muggles like are called.” He extended an arm out for her to take. “Shall we?”

“Where are we going?” She asked.

“Nosey, aren’t we? Wait and see.”

They apparated out of the house and arrived in front of a pizza shop on the north side of town. Hermione’s mouth went slack as she read the sign. “Pizza?”

“Yeah.” He smirked. “I rather like pizza, now that I know what it is. And I figured there wouldn’t be too many witches or wizards hanging out to gossip.” He opened the door for her and they made their way in, where they took a booth and Hermione giggled as she read the menu.

“Draco Malfoy likes pizza… am I dreaming?”

“Would I normally be in your dreams?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Do tell.”

Hermione tried not to giggle again as the waitress came around and took their order. They ordered a large half olives and bacon (Draco’s side) and half pepperoni with extra cheese (Hermione’s) and two sodas. Hermione leaned her head against her hand and smiled.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“For actually going through with this. I know I bullied you into it.”

“Pah,” He scoffed, “I doubt you would be able to bully me into anything.” He played with the silverware on the table, spinning it this way and that. “So, does this work for you?”

“What? The pizza?” Hermione asked. He nodded. “Yes. I wouldn’t have taken you for a low-key date kind of man, but… this is wonderful.” She leaned back in her seat and her smile grew bigger. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Favorite color?” She tilted her head.

“Blue.” He flitted his eyes down towards the table. “You?”

“I like orange,” She admitted, “But I can’t really pull the color off.”

He smirked. “Favorite position?”

“I don’t really take a stance in politics,” She chided, glazing over his suggestive question and earning a glare from him. “Do you have a favorite book?”

“I do. Stranger Things by Arthur Red. Have you read it?”

“No.” She leaned over the table, interested. “Tell me about it.”

“Bunch of wizards go out in the middle of the woods and get sucked into a vortex where they meet their doppelgangers. Really good read, if you enjoy fiction.”

“I do.”

“And your favorite book?”

“It’s a muggle one.” Hermione giggled. “Called The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. Interestingly enough, its story is about siblings who find a hidden world in a wardrobe filled with magic. Before I knew what I was, I used to dream of such a place. Now that I know it exists… the book is a lot more horrifying.”

“Sounds like it. What would a lion, a witch and a wardrobe have to do with each other?” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. They both laughed, louder than they intended and caught the gaze of a few of the guests. Hermione dabbed the back of her hand to her mouth and tried to stifle the last of her chuckles. Draco watched her, observing her, until she was self-conscious.

“Why do you look at me that way?”

“What way?”

“Like I’m…. not some grotesque individual you’ve hated your entire life.”

“Would you rather I treat you that way?” He asked her seriously.

“No. No, not at all. This is just… new to me.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, if anyone had asked me if I’d be sitting across Hermione Granger in a pizza diner on a date back at Hogwarts, I would have snorted pumpkin juice potion all over them while laughing hysterically.”

“And now?” She asked cautiously.

Draco mulled it over in his head a moment, nodded nonchalantly, and smirked. “Now, I’d say it could be the highlight of my week. Of course, that isn’t saying much about my life, is it?”

The pizza arrived, interrupting the awkward going conversation, and they dug in without much else to say about it. They ate in content silence, once in a while bringing up how good the pizza was or what things they missed about Hogwarts versus the adult lives they led now. When Draco had finished his fourth slice, and Hermione her third, Draco ordered the check and tossed a wallet over to Hermione. “I had Gringotts convert some muggle money for me, but I still don’t understand the currency.”

“Alright,” Hermione sifted through the wallet, “How much do you want to tip—Malfoy!” She gasped. “There’s an obscene amount of money in here.

“No matter where I go, I carry an obscene amount of money.”

She frowned. “You said your parents cut you off.”

“I said I left. And they did cut me off afterwards, thank you very much,” Draco snatched up the wallet as Hermione hurriedly pulled out a thick amount and started to deal it up to the ticket. “I just happen to have liquidated some assets that I had on my person when I left.”

“Such as?”

“Such as some diamond cufflinks, gold plated belt buckle-”

“Diamond flecked shoelaces?” Hermione teased. Draco chuckled.

“Something like that.”

“So you’re sitting on a bit of money, just… what? Waiting for a rainy day?”

“Emergencies.”

“And taking me on a date? That was an emergency?”

“Hardly. But as I’ve said, I’m not current on muggle money, and the last time I ate here I had a waitress cry into my shirt because I had tipped her – what was it you called it? An obscene amount of money?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and placed the appropriate amount on the table, handing the rest back to him. “You’re still leaving a good tip. Not enough to buy her a house. Maybe a nice meal.” She waited until he had put the wallet back in his pocket before she reached over and took his hand. “Thank you.”

He glanced down at her hand, back up at her, a bit of pink tinging his pale face. “For what?”

“For all of this.”

“It’s just pizza, Granger, I hardly think that constitutes-”

Hermione leaned across the table and planted a kiss firmly on his lips. His face softened as she pulled away, and his cheeks were no longer pink, but a pretty shade of red. He looked vulnerable, in that moment, but he looked to remember something and his face toughened once more. “We should get you home.”

“Oh.” She slunk down in her seat, nodded in agreement, and skirted out of the booth. Draco led the way outside, and as they stood in front of the flashing yellow pizza sign in the window of the restaurant, he reached over slowly and took her hand.

“Care to walk?” He asked.

She shook her head, and they strolled down the sidewalk, Hermione unable to keep her eyes from flitting to his hands every few moments or so. Eventually, she caught him looking towards it too, face etched with pain and carefulness. After a time, Hermione tugged at his hand and asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Hmm?” He asked indifferently.

“You seduce me, then tell me it’s nothing. You’re happy to see me one moment and the net you’re ignoring me. You ask me on a date and appear to have a good time, but then there are moments when you look like you’re wrestling a bear instead of enjoying yourself.”

Draco smirked. “Pot,” He nudged to Hermione, “Meet kettle.” And he pointed at himself.

She hadn’t thought of it that way, as if she were giving off mixed signals, but as she looked back at her past interactions, she could see the wires that crossed this way and that, but never leading to anything. She sighed and plucked her hand from his. “So, what is this then? Is this just some pity date?”

Draco stared at her, his blue-silver eyes dancing against the light of the streetlamp above them. “You tell me. This was your idea, after all.”

“I…” She tugged her eyes down and stared at her Mary-Janes. “No, this wasn’t a pity date.”

He tucked his finger under her chin and lifted it to meet his gaze. “It wasn’t a pity date for me either, stupid little Gryffindor.”

Sighing, she asked, “Why do you say such mean things? You could have just said ‘me either’ but you just can’t stop yourself can you?”

“You really don’t know?” His finger slid up to her lips, where it brushed across the supple skin there. “You are quite daft.”

“Know what?”

“I tease you because I like you,” He whispered, eyes never leaving hers. “Because if I don’t constantly have something mean to say, I might just…” He closed his eyes and kissed her then, something soft and gentle and kind. Hermione leaned into the kiss as a whirlwind of confused questions swam around her head. He broke the kiss after a time, smirked, and said, “Are you sure this a no sex date?”

Hermione contorted her face into one of pretend annoyance. “Yes, Draco, I’m sure.”

He shrugged, smiling. “Guess I have no choice but to take you on a second date, do I?”

She tried not to giggle as she shoved his shoulder playfully. “A second date sounds rather nice.”

_ _ _

I think I could finish this up with an epilogue with some much needed smut. Who agrees? Please, if you’d like to leave a review it would be most appreciated. Tell me what you thought, your favorite parts, and what you think would happen.
~Huggles to all my Dramione shippers, for we are all sailing the same boat, together.
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Drinking Buddies