Happy Summer Holidays! I've been working on this piece off and on for the past few weeks when I've had time in-between classes. It is definitely out of my element to be writing from a male perspective, but I thought I would give it a go. Officially, this is part 2 of 3 in a series I have written for Draco and Hermione. Part 1 being Last Call, Part 2 being Happy Hour, and Part 3 which will be entitled A Toast. I have absolutely no idea when Part 3 will be out so I have to ask you all to be patient. School is crazy right now. If I am not in class, I am at my internship, and if I am not at either, I am driving the hour long commute to and from school and working on homework. So please work with me. 3
Thank you to everyone who has added me as a favorite author, reviewed one of my other stories, or added me to their news and story alerts. I sincerely appreciate it and love seeing emails in my inbox. It truly makes things like Real Estate Law much more exciting (because who doesn't read their emails in class nowadays?).
Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the storyline.
Screwed. Buggered. Fucked. Royally fucked. Draco Malfoy was royally fucked.
He knew from the moment he opened his eyes and realized he was still in her house, in her room, in her bed no less still beside her. Even the memory of those first few moments of realization made him sick. Draco Malfoy never fell asleep next to his bedmates, no exception.
And yet, there he was, naked as the day he was born, sleeping beside her, mere minutes before the sun would rise. Therefore, it was not out of the ordinary in his mind as to why he dashed out of bed—quietly of course, as not to wake her and have to face that end of a walk of shame—gathered his clothes from throughout her house, and apparated off without anything so much as a goodbye. Goodbyes were not part of the package.
But here he was, five fucking weeks later and if it hadn't been bad enough that he constantly found himself thinking about her, here she was, on the other side of the bar, laughing with a drink in her hand, surrounded by her friends.
Annoyed, he tore his gaze away from the girl who plagued his dreams and focused back in on his conversation.
"Come on mate, your mother is going to expect you to settle down, get married, and give her grandkids sooner or later."
"There is no one in Slytherin I want to end up married to."
Draco sneered at his best mate. He wasn't supposed to state the obvious; he was supposed to mask the reality of what his mother wanted him to do. Of course he knew his mother wanted him to get married and have children, but Blaise didn't have to be so blunt about it.
Blaise Zabini had known Draco longer than he could remember and he knew when his best mate was hiding something, or rather someone, from him.
"So she is obviously not in Slytherin, otherwise I would know. So when are you going to tell me who she is?"
Draco narrowed his eyes.
"I have no idea what you are talking about Zabini."
Blaise reached for his pint, taking a slow, generous sip, formulating a response as he did so. Beside him, he could feel his friend ever so slightly fidget; he was hiding something, or rather someone, from him.
"Well, for starters, you've been acting strange for at least the past month, ever since I left you at that bar. And since I know you aren't pining for me and mourning the fact that I left you there alone, there has to be someone. I'm guessing it is a girl, unless you hiding something much more from me."
Draco rolled his eyes, a look of offense crossing his face. While homosexuality was not as frowned upon as it has been in his youth, the mere suggestion that he was hiding same-sex tendencies from his best mate was appalling.
"It's a she Blaise and that is all you need to know."
Blaise chuckled. He was going to have fun with this.
"Well apparently she got under your skin pretty well for you to still be pining after her for what, five or six weeks. And the way you keep staring over there at She-Weasel and her friends, I am lead to believe either you slept with Ron Weasley's little sister or one of the members of her bridal party."
Now fully annoyed, Draco tossed back the rest of his Firewhiskey before motioning to the bartender for another, trying to ignore the laughter from one end of the bar and the inquisitive stare of his best friend. This was not how he wanted the night to turn out.
"I did not sleep with Weasley's sister."
Blaise looked back over towards the blushing bride-to-be and her friends. If Draco hadn't slept with Miss Ginerva Weasley, whom did he sleep with? To Ginny's right was Padma Patil—but she was openly dating a healer from St. Mungo's sister hospital in Paris. Luna Lovegood was engaged to that nitwit who believed in as many fanciful creators as she did. That left several of Miss Weasley's classmates—all of whom he knew Draco had slept with during their time at Hogwarts. Slowly eliminating each bachelorette party member, that left one other openly single and very tempting option.
"Bloody hell Draco. You slept with Granger?" hissed Blaise, his voice a whisper as to avoid detection.
Taking Draco's silence as a yes, Blaise ran every memory of that night trying to remember if he had seen the now very pretty Gryffindor at the bar before he left. Sure enough, he remembered her sitting at the far end of the bar, trying to avoid the attention she was getting from another patron.
"Are you still seeing her?"
"It was just one night Blaise. Try not to make too much of it."
"Me try not to make too much of it?" he laughed, "you are the one who is clearly besotted by the lovely lady. One night with her and she has you wanting her back this badly? I might have to have a go at her myself."
Draco finally smirked. "I don't think your wife would appreciate that very much Zabini or do I need to remind you that you have one very pregnant Astoria waiting for you back home?"
Blaise chuckled, glancing at his wedding ring and thinking of the beautiful witch he had waiting for him back home. "All I am saying is that while the rest of us are settling down and finding the one we belong with, perhaps you can't be too picky and pass aside someone who actually peaks your interests. I've never seen anyone capture your attention this way mate, maybe Granger's the one for you."
Knowing that answering would bring him into dangerous territory, any sort of admittance of his feelings to Blaise would surely be shared with Astoria and subsequently Pansy Nott née Parkinson, Draco remained slient. It was not a question of how far he wanted the truth of his feelings to be known to everyone but rather the knowledge of the girl he was harboring them for.
"If she had feelings for me Zabini, she would have made something of them already."
Blaise rolled his eyes. Draco may have been one of the smartest people he knew, but he was definitely not the brightest wizard in terms of understanding the mind of a woman, especially their romantic mind.
"Coming from a married man Draco, women don't always tell you what they want. Hell, most of the time they don't even use words. Everything is about interpretation and being able to read their emotions and signals. Do you think I always knew Astoria liked me or even that she wanted to have children? Hell no. I had to learn how to read her like a book and even know I am struggling like a five year old just learning how to read. Surely Granger did or said something to make it known that she perhaps wanted you there for more than just a shag. Did she leave anything at your apartment?"
"We went to her place. I left even before she woke up. I ran like a bloody coward who didn't know yet what he had."
Oh this was too good, Draco clearly had no idea what a woman bringing you back to her place meant.
"This is comical Draco," Blaise laughed, "it really is. How many woman do you think actually bring men back to their homes? And before you answer, let's clarify: how many attractive, successful, and smart woman bring men back to their apartments after a few drinks? How many men do you think Granger would trust in the confines of her own home?"
Draco twitched under the questioning, his eyes itching to look at the source of the voice ordering another round of drinks from the bartender and asking for their bill at the same time. Was it possible she was accepting him into her life, even just a little. Everyone knew Granger kept her home very private after moving out of her parent's muggle home after the war. Even the papers didn't know the exact building or apartment she lived in and she liked it that way. He remembered the shy, secretive smile she had when she whispered if he wanted to come back to her place for a snack, making him promise not to sell her address to the Daily Prophet.
Finishing his drink, Blaise motioned to the bartender, paying off both their tabs before standing up and pulling on his jacket, tossing a second coat to Draco.
"You don't get many second chances in life Draco. Don't let this one pass you up. See you Saturday night for the wedding, remember not to bring a couch throw or whatever Astoria called it, we bought them one."
Nodding at his best friend's departure, Draco finished his second Firewhiskey, his forehead resting against his fingers as they kneaded the space above the ridge of his nose. Blaise was right, as much as he hated to admit it, he was right. It wasn't everyday that you met someone who quite possibly may like you back as well. Everyone else around him was settling down, why shouldn't he find someone he actually liked as well?
Motioning to the bartender, he tossed a few coins in the bar and placed a final order before pulling on his coat and walking out. He didn't need to wait to see what reaction would follow when the custom order pizza was delivered, not did he wait to see the reaction of Miss Weasley and her friends as the waiter informed one Miss Hermione Granger that a secret admirer forgave her for not making him the pizza she promised. Next time, he had the snacks covered.