AN: This is for Ladiephoenix007! Hope you like this muggle Dramione AU! I basically just played "Closer" by The Chainsmokers featuring Halsey the whole time, so this story is heavily influenced by that. :D ~Faerose06


Hey, I was doing just fine just before I met you

I drank too much and that's an issue but I'm okay


Draco Malfoy first met Hermione Granger when she was sloshed in a bar somewhere in New York City.

The Leaky Cauldron, it was called, and the interior was certainly just as weird as the name itself. It was dark and quite dilapidated, though it certainly had its charm.

The bar was practically empty, save for the bartender, the little man he was talking to, and a few old women sitting in the corner.

Draco had just escaped from a heated argument with his father, on his habits of coming home late, in states that were unbecoming for the sole heir to the Malfoy fortune.

As if Draco gave a shit about that, when all his father cared about was just expanding his fortune, never his family. Maybe Lucius Malfoy once was a loving father and husband, but after he'd signed a business deal with Thomas Riddle, he had never been the same.

Hence why he was in a run down pub ordering the strongest whiskey the bar had.

"Here's your firewhiskey, mate," said the bartender, his voice hinting at an Irish accent. "Strongest whiskey on the market, designed to set fire to your insides." He winked at Draco, before resuming his conversation with the tiny man.

Draco grabbed the bottle and walked to the back, sitting down at an empty table. Or at least he thought it was an empty table.

How he missed the girl with the giant head of hair, he didn't know. The girl's head was on her arms, and she reeked of - what was it called? Oh, right - firewhiskey.

Draco didn't know whether to nudge the girl to see if she was awake - or even alive - or just to finish up his drink and wander the streets of New York City.

He settled upon tapping the girl; Draco had always been the curious, inquisitive sort, the kind that just loves to put their noses in other people's matters.

As soon as he tapped the girl, she rose, as if he had sent a electric shock up her body.

Her hair certainly looked that way; two strands of her hair had been pinned to the back of her head, though you could barely discern the style from how frizzy and wild it was.

(Draco would later grow to love her hair, the wildness of it, and the textured feel of it upon his hands)

"Why did you tap me?" asked the girl.

"Oh - I …" Draco didn't have an answer to her question, at least not one that was acceptable for pleasant conversation. He sighed. Better to be straightforward than a creeper who randomly taps random girls at shabby bars. "I was checking to see if you were alive, you could say."

The girl looked at Draco in the eye and squinted. She then shrugged and exhaled deeply, before drinking half of one of the many bottles surrounding her side of the table.

"Do you mind if I talk to you?" the girl asked. So far, their conversation consisted of questions from the girl and Draco's answers.

"Sure, uh, why not."

"I'm Hermione, by the way," she said, this time sipping daintily from the firewhiskey bottle - the same as the one Draco had not yet touched.

Draco wondered if she'd made the name up. Afterall, he was just a random guy she just met, and who had Hermione as a name?

"Helen's daughter, or Queen of Sicily in The Winter's Tale?" he asked. It was amazing what knowledge one could gain when you were taught by tutors whose interests ranged from Greek Mythology to Shakespeare.

Hermione blinked in surprise. "Uh - Helen's daughter. My parents loved Greek Mythology."

"Past tense?" asked Draco, wondering why she'd said "loved" instead of "love".

"They passed away. A car accident in Australia," she said, a shade of sorrow darkening her brown eyes.

"I'm sorry," said Draco, not good at comforting people. He had never been, not when his ex-girlfriend Pansy Parkinson had cried over a broken nail, or when his mother cried over their broken family.

"Not your fault," Hermione said simply. "What's your story?'

"I haven't got one," said Draco, finally drinking some of his firewhiskey. The liquid burned a trail in his throat, and made his vision slightly blurry, but a quick shake of the head fixed it. He didn't have low tolerance, so he wondered if firewhiskey was really that potent.

Hermione laughed.

(Draco would later grow to love her laughter. It reminded him of the better aspects of his life. In fact, he probably fell in love with her laugh right here, right now)

"Everyone's got a story. Even a pale boy in a pub," she said.

"Just your standard rich boy problems. Father who doesn't understand, mother who cries enough to flood the world before global warming does and - wait, do you even know my name?" he asked, bewildered by his actions. This conversation was quite different from all the mannerly, veiled ones he'd had before.

Hermione laughed again. "You seem to be a - Thomas, or an Edward, maybe."

Draco grinned. "Not even close, Hermione. I'm Draco."

Hermione licked her lips. "The constellation or the 7th-century BC Athenian legislator?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. Who was this girl, and did she know so much? Most girls around Draco (aka Pansy) could only care to keep up with the Kardashians (or something like that), or the latest fashion fads. They didn't care enough to immerse themselves with books or anything remotely intellectual.

"The constellation, Miss Bookworm. It's a tradition from my mother's side of the family," he shrugged.

"At least your not a Scorpius," said Hermione, wrinkling her nose. She drank the rest of the bottle, and then grabbed Draco's bottle and drank some of that, too.

"Hey! I was planning on naming my kid that," he joked, taking the bottle back from Hermione, their hands touching briefly.

"I pity the woman who decides to marry you," she joked back, pulling the bottle back from Draco's hands.

"I pity the man that has to deal with you stealing his whiskey," Draco smirked, tugging the bottle so hard that some of the liquid landed on Hermione.

One particular drop had landed on her cupid's bow, bringing her pink lips to Draco's attention, and another trailed downwards from her neck into her shirt. Draco shook his head. He was here to drink his sorrows away, not to fall for a near stranger.

"I only drink when my boyfriend thinks cheating on me would be fun," she said, this time successfully grabbing the bottle from Draco's hands. Due to his surprise, he had loosened his hold on the bottle.

"Wow. What kind of an idiot was he, to cheat on you?" blurted Draco.

Hermione smiled sadly and shrugged. "A ginger bastard, he was. We were never meant to be, it seems. To make it worse, he cheated on me with some bimbo from high school that I once considered a sort-of-friend."

Hermione tossed her head back and drank some more, but Draco took the bottle back and drank the rest of it, licking his lips once he finished the bottle.

"Here I thought my sorrows were awful, but you've got enough to write a tragedy," said Draco.

"Just the perks of being human, I suppose." Hermione dug around in her purse and pulled out a few dollars and some quarters, dropping them on the table.

"See you someday, Draco," she said with a wave, before leaving Draco sitting alone on the table. Draco brought out a random assortment of dollar bills (two twenties), and ran after the girl in a rush.

(It would be the biggest tip the bartender, Tom, had ever received)


So baby pull me closer in the backseat of your Rover

That I know you can't afford

Bite that tattoo on your shoulder


Hermione Granger's mouth tasted divine, decided Draco. It was two months after the fateful meeting in a bar, the amazing night that followed, and meeting again in an elective literature class at Hogwarts, the university that they both seemed to attend.

What a coincidence.

(Isn't it also remarkable how they also practically had the same schedule?)

Now they were snogging against the door of their chemistry teacher's supply room. They were supposed to clean the room, as a form of detention for all the staring they did during class (Professor Snape hated romance of any form; Whether it be sexual tension or even a simple flirty comment).

Cleaning, smleaning. Who does work when Hermione Granger's arms feel like home, and who does work when Draco Malfoy smells like what Hermione assumed a love potion would smell like.

"Wait," breathed Hermione, bringing her legs back down to the floor from Draco's waist. "Snape will murder us - or worse, fail us - if we don't get the cabinets cleaned!"

Draco wrinkled his nose, a prelude to the tantrums he used to throw as a child.

"But, Granger!" he exclaimed, in the most whiney voice he could muster. It was actually a spectacular whine, mainly because Draco had been doing his since he was spoiled rich kid living in mansions across the world.

"Oh, but Malfoy, we've got work to do, and hopefully enough time to finish it," she said, in the most authoritarian voice she would muster. It was actually very remarkable, mainly because she'd been doing for ages, to make sure that her friends didn't fail school due to their procrastination.

Draco sighed, and helped Hermione, though he spent the better half of his time grumbling and whining.


I know it breaks your heart

I moved to the city in a broke down car and

Four years, no calls


"How could you?" whispered Hermione.

"Hermione - you know I would never - She threw herself on me - I - I love you, not her!" said Draco, trying to fix the misunderstanding.

"No! No, you do not get to say that, not now!" The first time Draco admits that his heart belonged to Hermione - was the last time that he'd ever get to. (At least, until four years later)

Draco had thrown a graduation party, and he'd invited everyone. Every single person, from all of the houses at Hogwarts - whether it be the Gryffindors or the Slytherins - had come, no matter their petty rivalries from the time someone had egged the Slytherin dorms in red and gold.

Pansy Parkinson (who actually had gotten over Draco) had been drunk, and tripped over her toes right onto Draco's lips - at the precise moment Hermione had walked in.

Not that Hermione believed Pansy or Draco. Not since this had happened to her before - with Ron and Lavender. She'd been in love with Ron at the time, and decent friends with Lavender when he had actually cheated on her, and this time - she was head over heels for Draco, and practically best friends with Pansy.

Her heart was stubborn, and the wounds from long ago seemed to have resurfaced - and Hermione just couldn't accept that maybe, maybe this time was a genuine mistake, a cruel mistake of fate.

She'd taken all of the little things of Draco that littered her dorm - his toothbrush, a Slytherin sweatshirt, and many other things - and she'd thrown it out her window. She blocked their numbers, email addresses, and any social media accounts, and avoided any of Draco's friends. Even Harry Potter, her childhood best friend, who had a frenemy sort of relationship with Draco told her to see that what had actually happened - that Pansy was in love with Blaise Zabini, not her Malfoy.

She had told him that Malfoy was not hers, and that she was no longer his.

She left Hogwarts the next day, since they'd graduated already, and they're really was no reason to stay.

There was, however, a reason for her to leave.

Her broken heart.


Now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar and

I can't stop

No, I can't stop


It had been four years, and Hermione Granger had left with Draco Malfoy's heart. He had no idea where she was, and the few people who did had promised her never to tell - damn those Gryffindors with their supposed loyalty.

(It was surprising how everyone fell into their respective houses perfectly, seeing as Hogwarts was just a normal school, but they did)

And now he was sitting at a hotel bar, after a stressful Malfoy-Riddle business meeting, dealing with Riddle's funds after he had passed away due to a simple heart attack, as he seemed to have left everything to the Malfoys to deal with.

He missed the familiar taste of firewhiskey back in New York, but he hadn't gone back there in years, having spent most of time in Hogwarts here in the UK, and as most of his business meetings were in other locations.

He drank the remaining bit of his Gin 'n' Tonic, and got up from the bar, checking his watch and seeing that it was 11:55 PM. Just 5 minutes before midnight on New Year's Eve - alone.

He closed his eyes, his heart clenching at the thought of another year without Hermione gone, and then - all of a sudden, he collided with another person and they tumbled into his arms.

He opened his eyes and met a pair of familiar brown ones.

"Hermione?"


So baby pull me closer

We ain't ever getting older

No we ain't ever getting older


AN: I thought this was long, but looking at it, it's actually decent! I hope you all liked this! :D I hope the ending isn't too open ended, I just felt like this was the perfect spot to end it, while giving my readers space to imagine and fill in the rest of the story.

Again, this is for LadiePhoenix007, an amazing member of the Dramione community. I hope you enjoyed reading this! :D

{To my "Off Track" readers, I am terribly sorry, but the next chapter for Off Track will be late, mainly because I've got dance today, singing tomorrow, and travelling all day and night on Sunday! I hope you'll stay tuned for the next chapter, haha. :D :D :D}

(Listen to Closer, featuring Halsey while reading, it gives a sort of backdrop to this one-shot. Also the reason the Leaky's in New York is because of another song by the Chainsmokers, which is titled New York City. The Hellberg remix is my fave, in case you want to listen to it.)

(To clear up any confusion, the Leaky is the only place in NY. Draco was there because Lucius was there for a meeting, so he tagged along and got into a fight there with his father, hence why he went into a pub. Hermione and her friends were there because they're on vacation before they go to Uni (also where she was cheated on), and the rest of the story is in the UK, hence why the term "snogging" was used instead of "making out", because Dramione is still British.)

Love,

Faerose06