She lived in Muggle London. No matter; if Draco Malfoy had to venture into the Muggle world to get Hermione Granger, then so be it.
He wasn't the least bit surprised that it was pouring rain. That his umbrella had been stolen when he had left it near the door of the flower shop only further proved his point:
This date had been a disaster from its very conception.
To begin with, he had spilled Butterbeer on her when he'd asked her out. He should have heeded that omen.
Only days later Hermione had sent him an owl saying she needed to reschedule their date because she had to attend a family member's funeral. He should have taken the opportunity and cancelled.
Then he had to postpone to take care of a bookkeeping disaster at Malfoy Enterprises. Thinking back, he really should have just told her to forget the whole thing.
Had it been any other witch, he would have.
But he needed to go on this date. If all went according to plan, this would be his first and last—his only—date with her. A goodnight kiss would be the all proof he needed. He was not in love with her, despite Pansy's insistence otherwise.
What did Pansy know? After all, she had agreed to marry Harry Potter. Surely that was a sign of complete idiocy.
There was one thing that he was absolutely convinced of: that kissing Hermione would be just like kissing any other witch.
To prove Pansy wrong, Draco had, in the past, tried to kiss Hermione on many occasions. He had approached her several times during dinner parties at the Potters', twice when having drinks with co-workers at the Leaky Caldron, and once at a Chudley Cannons game he was forced to attend. Hermione had never consented. Pansy said it was because 'Hermione Granger is not that type of witch.'
Fine, he could go on a real date with her. If there was one thing he was skilled at, it was dating witches.
The rain had not let up. He was soaked to bone when he reached her flat. And despite the weather, he had arrived on time. Draco rang the doorbell and knocked several times, but got no answer. Where was she?
Thirty minutes later she arrived.
"You're here. How long have you been waiting?" she asked as she fumbled for her keys.
"Not long," he lied. "What happened? You look like a drowned rat." He was certain she had never looked more beautiful.
"Sorry. I had to work late. I tried to get out of it." Hermione pushed a few strands of wet hair out of her face. "Listen, if you want, we can do this another time." There was a tone of disappointment in her voice.
"No. Absolutely not. We will go on this date," Draco said insistently. Taken back a bit at his manner, she dropped her keys.
He bent down to retrieve them. "Then again, if you don't mind we can just skip to the end."
"The end?"
Draco slipped the keys into his pocket. "Yes, the end." Then he gently cupped her face.
"Oh … the end," she whispered, understanding what he meant. He leaned in and kissed her rain-soaked lips.
Pansy was right.
