"Hey, pretty lady. I'm Draco Malfoy." Hermione glanced up from untying her Pointe shoes and came eye-to-eye with a blond young man who was right about her age. Amused at his nonchalant pose at the doorway, she pulled off her shoes and laid them neatly in a box to her right.
"Is that a euphemism for a one-night stand, cause then no, I'm not interested," she replied, putting on a fresh coat of face powder. The gala rendition of Swan Lake had ended just a few minutes ago, and the bouquet their producer had given her as their lead dancer was sitting innocently on her dresser.
"Ah, no. Dinner means an evening meal, complete with dessert and maybe coffee, in a nice restaurant." At this, Hermione smiled and stood, walking towards the door.
"Then let me put on some clothes, Mr. Malfoy, before I step out with you." With a nod of finality, she closed the door in his face, locking it for good measure in case he decided to step inside the room while she was changing.
It surprised Hermione that Draco had not recognized her. Swan Lake was certainly their first production here in the small town of Whitby, North Yorkshire, but she grew up in the place, staying there for years until she entered ballet and moved. Draco had bullied her for as long as she could remember, and he had been the object of her nightmares in school. She didn't mind him and even went as far as ignoring him, but it appears that Draco Malfoy can not be ignored. He had photoshopped her face onto a naked woman's body and posted it in different places in school. Everyone laughed at her and called her names such as slut, whore, bitch, etc. It was a memory she could never forget. Days following that incident, she begged her parents to transfer her to another school, and she was sent to live with her aunt in Cambridge, away from the evil and malice of the boy who tormented her.
"Where to?" Hermione asked, flashing the young blond a smile as she went out of the room and locked it behind her.
"Oh, there's this lovely place called Vendetta, it's Italian, I hope you don't mind. Funny really, how they named the place, though I guess it's after that movie, V for Vendetta. They say Hugo Weaving ate there once with Natalie Portman." They were now heading towards his sleek silver car, and Hermione took her time observing the man, a chuckle forced from her lips as she heard the restaurant's name. Ironic.
"I love Italian. So, what do you do, Draco?" she asked, fluttering her lashes in an interested way, leaning towards the man and ghosting a few touches on his arm. As he launched into a long speech about his life, highlighting his interest in golf and going pro – perhaps following after Tiger Woods – she smirked mentally to herself. Hermione Granger's vendetta was going to be sweet.