They ate their ordered meals in silence, each stealing glances at the other when they thought the opposite party wasn't looking. After a while, Draco cleared his throat and said, "What do you think of the restaurant?"

She raised her eyebrows as if to say, Small talk again? But she responded with, "The service is attentive, the food is delicious, the atmosphere is nice…the company leaves something to be desired."

His eyebrows knitted together in the beginnings of a scowl. "You just can't be civil to me, can you?"

"No, I'm not sure if that's possible anymore," she said, her tone still as cheery as if she were speaking of the weather. "I trained myself on what to say should I ever meet you again, and trust me when I tell we've already exchanged far more pleasantries than I originally planned for."

He could hear it then, some of her own speech coming back. "What is that?"

Her fork had been gently scraping the plate, moving around the small portion of leftover food, and at his question she stopped. "What's what?"

"The way you talk. It fluctuates."

She shrugged. "When I'm calm I can talk more like my old self. It doesn't flow quite as easily as it used to, and when I'm emotional in any way, the biggest word I can fathom is…well, probably 'fathom'."

Suddenly, to the surprise of them both, Draco laughed. She stared at him, meanwhile, as if he'd grown a second head. Then she shook her head at herself as his laughter faded away, and she said, "I believe in your letter, you insinuated that I owed you an explanation."

"As do I," he responded.

"Why don't you start," she said. It wasn't really a suggestion.

"What do you want to know?"

She played absently with her napkin. "Why did you abandon me so completely? You said…you showed me what it meant to be lovers, and then suddenly I didn't exist to you."

"You undoubtedly heard how Dumbledore died and my role in it towards the end of sixth year."

She nodded.

"I was involved in something that you'd been very clear you wanted no part of. At that point in our…whatever we were…there were two options: cut all ties immediately and make a clean break, or drag you down with me. I knew that if I even attempted to pull you down to my level at that point you would flare by up like a roaring fire. You just had that kind of personality. You wouldn't listen to authority, 'Dark Lord' be damned, and I knew that if he knew you existed in my life, he would surely use you at some point to further ensure my cooperation."

She listened to his explanation quietly, nodding again, and then asked, "Why didn't you look for me, then? After the war?"

He sighed. "Here's where things get dicey. I…I did."

Her head snapped up to him. "You what?"

"I looked for you. Merlin, how I searched for you. I couldn't find anyone who'd heard from you in months, and I even went to Shacklebolt to ask if I could go through Ministry records to see…My main concern was that you'd been killed, but I just told myself you'd left the country, that you were off somewhere and I would find you—"

"Why did you stop looking?" She seemed almost afraid to know the answer.

"Potter," he said with another sigh. "He knew I was looking for you, and since it was his testimony at my trial that spared me from Azkaban, he decided I owed him. He said the debt would be repaid if I…if I stopped looking for you." He fixed her with a careful glance. "Think about it, Brynn. Would you really have wanted to see me at that point?"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully for a moment and said, "I think at that point I had just shifted into the 'if he comes anywhere near me I'll hex him into oblivion' stage."

"Then that's an obvious no."

"I understand," she said. "Can I ask what exactly I need to explain?"

He put down his own silverware and sighed. "You seem almost angry at the idea of me wanting anything to do with Colm. If that's how you intended to react all along, why did you even tell me he was my son? Why now, after four years?"

She looked at him carefully, pondering her answer. "I ran into you at the Ministry purely by chance, and it was an unfortunate turn of events that Colm was there with me. I assumed that, when you saw him, you'd ask who the father was—since you were already attempting to make small talk. I also assumed that you'd do the intelligent thing and connect the dots on your own: Colm's age fits the timeline of the last time we had sex, and he is, quite frankly, the spitting image of you. There was no way for me to lie to you. If we're being honest, however, I will say that so far telling you about your son has been my biggest regret."

A look of hurt flashed across his face, so fast she almost didn't catch it. "Why is it so awful for me to be Colm's father?"

"After the way you've treated me, frankly I should be saying that allowing you to father my child at all is my biggest regret."

Another grimace of hurt. This one had cut deeper.

"But I can't regret that. From the moment Colm was born, I couldn't regret that. He's the best thing I have, the best to happen to me. Though I admit it begrudgingly, you helped give me Colm. He is the sweetest child in the world, Draco. He needs someone stable in his life to be his dad."

"Like George?" Draco snapped.

"Don't start something," she said, a warning tone in her voice. "George has been there for Colm, has been the closest thing Colm's had to a dad."

"If George is so great, why haven't you made him Colm's official dad?"

"I don't follow."

"You're not dating George."

"Of course not!"

Draco stared at her long and hard. "Have you slept with him?"

She debated whether or not she should answer him honestly, but in the end she said, "Yes. Twice."

Draco's fists clenched under the table.

"I am indebted to George for so much, but Colm now has his little heart set on you. He wants a real family, and I wish I could give him that."

"Why can't you?" he demanded rashly.

"I can't be around you anymore than is necessary."

"Why?"

Unidentifiable emotions flickered behind her eyes, and her voice was quiet when she said, "Because I can't trust myself around you."

It hit him then. He knew that if he leaned across the table and kissed her, she wouldn't resist. He held his breath, waiting to see if he had the courage to try that path instead, to go down a road that had ended so badly for the pair before…he was waiting to see if he was bold enough to brave the consequences should his certainty be wrong. Brynn, meanwhile, was looking down at the table in an unconsciously coy way. If she looks up at me, I'll do it.

Her eyes flicked up at him, looking at him through her lashes, and he had to bite back a groan. She's doing that on purpose.

He's doing that on purpose.

Brynn glanced up at him. It was not lost on her the way he had taken her statement or the way his gaze was now riveted on her mouth.

Maybe that was how she'd meant for her response to be taken. Maybe she'd been asking for it when she wore this dress, brought up that subject matter. She saw a flutter across his face, his calm façade barely concealing what she didn't doubt to be pent up lust, and she realized that if she was going to get out, now would have to be the time.

"Brynn—"

She cut him off by standing. "Thank you for dinner, Draco. It was…It really was lovely."

"What's the rush?" He stood with her, a bit too hurriedly, and when he realized it he quickly composed himself. "Is Colm with a babysitter?"

"I sent him with George for a day or two so that I had time to regroup and figure out exactly what to tell him."

"Then why leave so soon?"

"It's still late, Draco." Her lips curved up in a small smile. "And my remark still stands."

"Apparate or Floo Network?"

"Apparate of course," she said. "The Floo Network makes for surprisingly tricky travel in Ireland. It often gets towns confused."

"I'll walk you out at least."

A/N: so the stories are straight, the ex-lovers are looking fine...and Draco really wants to kiss her.

could potentially end badly.

review and find out :)