This was written for the DM/HG ficexchange over on livejournal, hope you enjoy.


He is an idiot.

Draco knows it because only an idiot would be sitting in a bar dirty enough to be a dumpster drinking firewhiskey barely potent enough to tickle the back of his throat. His stool keeps rocking back and forth with every slight move he makes.

"Just stay away from me!"

He looks up from his drink, but no one in the bar has spoken. It's his brain reminding him of what an ass he is.

"Just stay away from me!"

"Hermione, wait!" He yells, jogging to catch up.

She spins around, "How could you?"

"I di—"

"Don't talk; you've done enough of that tonight." She turns away again, and this time he doesn't stop her."

"You want another?" the bartender asks.

He nods and studies the bar which has been engraved through the years with various letters and symbols. His thumb nail, almost against his will, starts inscribing the letter D.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

Draco looks up to see Ron Weasley standing next to his table. "Eating," he says, deciding that this was neither the time nor place for a confrontation.

"This isn't your kind of place." It was an upscale Muggle restaurant, Weasley doesn't know it, but Draco frequents these types of places. He sips his water and says nothing. "Since when do you eat in Muggle restaurants?"

"Muggles can cook. Did you want anything from me?"

The waitress comes to his table and sets down two plates, one in front of him and the other across.

"Oh," Weasley says. "I'll just leave you alone then."

Hermione chooses that moment to walk out of the ladies' loo.

His thumbnail starts to hurt, so Draco switches to his index finger for the M and continues his message.

"Isn't this a party?" Draco gives no indication that he has known that Hermione was there.

She gives Ron a hug and Draco cringes on the inside, "Malfoy," she nods.

He nods back, "Granger."

"I guess I'll just leave you to your meal then, Malfoy," Weasley says again. He turns to Hermione and grabs her hand. "Let me walk you back to your table."

Draco grits his teeth.

Hermione extracts her hand from Weasley's grip and says, "Actually, I left my purse in the loo, have a good dinner though." She flees back to the loo leaving Weasley and Draco alone. Weasley then walks back to his table which is, unfortunately, in sight of Draco's. Before Hermione can come back out, he signals for the bill and has their meals boxed up.

Weasley notices Draco leaving, he is sure of it. Hopefully he won't notice Hermione.

As he keeps engraving his message, his index finger is filed all the way down to the skin. He switches fingers again.

Of course Weasley notices Hermione leave. Draco sees him excuse himself from his date and walk outside after Hermione.

"Hey, why didn't you tell me you were done? I'll see you later," he hugs her and kisses her cheek. Draco actually growls. He doesn't mean to walk out of the shadows, but Weasley sees him.

Being stupid, he asks Hermione, "Are you ready to go?" He touches her arm. Weasley's head snaps up and he looks between the two of them.

"Hermione?" he asks slowly.

The door to the bar opens; unlike the other few patrons, Draco does not look to see who has entered. He signals for another drink and finishes his message.

Weasley doesn't give her a chance to answer, instead he grabs Draco's hand from her arm. Then his hand connects with Draco's face.

"Merlin, Weasley!" He cradles his cheek. Weasley turns away, but Draco grabs his shoulder and punches him back.

"Ron, Draco! Stop it!" Hermione steps in between them before anything else happens. She turns to Ron, "Just go back inside."

He opens his mouth to argue, but she pushes him towards the door and he goes.

"Hermione, I'm sorry."

"Just stay away from me!"

Someone sites down next to him and he covers up what he has just written with his hand. "I don't know why you always come here," she says.

He turns to see Hermione sitting next to him with her nose wrinkled. He shrugs.

"I thought about what happened earlier," she says. "I might have overreacted a bit."

He raises an eyebrow.

"What I mean is that I realize that Ron punched you first." She raises her hand to lightly brush at the red mark on his face. Not meaning to, he leans his head towards her. "You probably wanted him to hit you, but at least you waited. I know you wouldn't have always."

He smiles. "I'm sorry."

"You know I don't want him to know about us."

He grabs her hand which was still on his face and pulls it off. "That's not good enough for me anymore."

"Draco--"

"I know it was wrong to punch Weasley, but you don't know what I go through every time we run into you friends and have to pretend it's all some big coincidence. It's been a year."

"Do you know what they would think?"

His eyes widen and his jaw drops, "Do I know what they would think? Of course I do. But that shouldn't matter. If your friends can't accept who you're in…volved with, what good are they?"

"Don't insult my friends," she snaps.

"They don't have to like it, but you're a grown woman, Hermione. One of the perks of being an adult is being able to make your own decisions and mistakes."

"Are you a mistake?" She asks.

"Probably, but that's your call. You don't need to take out a full page advert in the Daily Prophet, just don't act like I'm something you have to be ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed of you."

"Could have fooled me," he reaches into his pocket for some money. "I'm going home. If you…I'll be around." He walks out, and Hermione sees what his hand had been covering. She runs out after him.

"Do you mean it?" She asks him before he can apparate.

"What?"

"What you wrote on the bar."

He nods.

"You couldn't have just said it?"

He shakes his head.

"Oh," she bites her lip. "Harry and Ginny, and Ron and his girlfriend are coming over for dinner on Friday. Do you want to come?"

"Are you sure?"

She nods.

"Wait a minute, okay?" She nods again as he goes back into the bar. A few minutes later he comes out and hands her a napkin./

D.M. loves H.G.

It reads in relief, black taking up most of the napkin. Hermione digs through her bag for a pen. Finding one, she writes on the paper and hands it back to him.

H.G. loves D.M.

"Good."


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