I'm so sorry for the delay in updates, but I have had this written since August, just no time to type it up properly and engage with the story again. Chapter 12 may also be hugely delayed, depending on how I delegate my time. But, just know, I'm not planning on giving up on this story. And it's going to take a while.
And now: Draco and Hermione. Out drinking with his friends.
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Friday evening and I am wandering the cold, cobbled streets of Norwich, my stomach churning with nerves. A small breeze brushes past me, causing gooseflesh to rise on my exposed forearms. Inside the jacket pocket, I grip hold of my mobile, half-praying for Draco to hurry up and text me back. Supposedly, this pub is just around the corner. But I am pretty certain I have taken seven corners at this point.
The Adam and Eve. The oldest and most famous pub in Norwich. Yet, in my almost twenty-five years of living, I have been there exactly three times, so am relying almost completely on Malfoy to direct me. And it's certainly further afield than I recall. Bloody Malfoy isn't even responding. This is a nearly new adventure for me, and my blonde ally is missing. The last time I was at this pub, I went with my mother to meet her childhood friend. The meeting didn't go well so we haven't been back.
I must be getting closer. Rowdy cheers are beginning to battle distance and the whistling wind. My phone buzzes, causing me to jump.
Draco: I'll come out to meet you. Hang on
I roll my eyes. Thank God for that.
Silently refusing to text back, I continue along the barely-lit road, towards the noises. In the distance, a door bangs open, evidenced by the flood o yellow light cast onto the street. That must be it, right? In the glow from the open door, two strangers stumble out. One pats the other on the back. Unconsciously, I pause. The second stranger gives the first some words of encouragement and they shake hands.
"Hermione!" calls the voice of Draco Malfoy, the second stranger raising his arm in greeting. The tension in me rises again. Why the heck am I doing this? It's not as though Malfoy is a friend or anything. I met with him only a week ago. Because we connected, does that normally mean that we have to have an irrevocable friendship? It's only drinks. It is only drinks at a pub. It doesn't mean anything. "Hey, are you alright?"
He's dressed casually again. Smiling easily. They must have started drinking already.
"Good thanks, yourself?"
Smiling does not appear to be coming so naturally to me in this instant, especially as I am feeling the inclination to be quite violently sick all over the place from nerves. Meeting new people and all of that horrible stuff.
"Great!" He holds his arm out, gesturing for me to walk on ahead of him. "Everyone is excited to meet you." I flush in response, taken aback.
Who is everyone? And what if they hate me and it's a miserable evening?
"Don't worry, Granger," he says grinning at me as we walk closer to the lit garden of the pub. The use of my surname does nothing for the nerves. "They're old friends. You don't know them." I try smiling again. Slightly better. He pushes open the door for me, following me inside with a wink. My god, what have I gotten myself into?
The inside of the pub is blaring with music from a live band, packed into a tiny, orange-lit corner. Lanterns hang on the raw-brick walls, leaving much of the small room in shadow. Not that this isn't desirable in such a watering hole, as my Dad used to call pubs. Malfoy smiles even broader – if possible – sniffing the alcohol-rent air. He taps me on the shoulder, pointing to a group of four others several metres away, hovering just shy of the bar.
"Miss Granger, this is everyone," Malfoy announces, sweeping an overly dramatic arm to the small group like some sort of show and tell. "Sally, Frederick, Johnny, and the insufferable Iago!" They all laugh at the introduction, the man at the end throwing his arms in the air in mock-complaint. I raise one hand in a wave. "Everyone, this is Miss Granger."
"That's not my name," Iago protests, raising an eyebrow and grinning at Draco, who lifts his arms in surrender. Pretending to be innocent, the bastard. I almost achieve a smile. "I'm Callum," he introduces, moving to shake my hand. I accept, isn't this a tad formal? "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger."
"Oh my God, don't call me that," I splutter in a laugh, unable to stop myself. "My kids call me that all day, five days a week."
"You've got kids?"
"She's a teacher," Draco interjects. "Drink, Hermione?"
"Whatever you're having," I reply, getting ready to settle into the evening. And not wanting to be judged. Draco glances at his friends, counting the empty glasses; three. For… Sally, Johnny, and Callum. He disappears to the bar then, thinking the orders over in his head. "Why Iago?"
"It's stupid," Callum tells me, grimacing.
"It's not! It's funny," Sally smiles, revealing dimples. "They did a production of Othello at the university. Being such a prat –"
"Method actor!" Callum interjects.
"Method actor," they all intone. I laugh.
"Being the method actor, he insisted as being known as Iago for the duration of the period in which the play was showing," Sally finishes, grinning at her brunette friend.
"How long was that?"
"Seven months," Johnny answers, smirking. I gape. "Yeah, it was as bad as you're thinking." Callum shakes his head at them all. Even though he's short, he seems like a big character. "Nice to meet you. Draco's been blabbing about you all week."
"Doesn't sound like him," I laugh. That is very weird. Frederick smiles, quiet. Does he dislike me? Or is that normal for him? Just quietly drinking.
"How do you know Draco?" Johnny asks. "If you don't mind me asking."
"Um," I start with the useless discourse marker, glancing in my periphery for Draco. I need to be buzzed if we're going to have that conversation. "I went to school with him. Hogwarts buddies, sort of." I laugh nervously, hoping to God that they don't ask about my house, or anything about our time at Hogwarts. I really don't want to be accidentally rude, or to place myself in an even weirder position, having been the target of his pre-teen and teenage animosity. "How about you guys?"
The distraction seems to work.
"Business school," Sally says first, showing her dimples again. She's cute, really. Short and spikey blonde hair, freckles, and bright blue lipstick. A bold velvet top.
"I was his dorm buddy," Callum tells me, shrugging nonchalantly.
"Family friend," Frederick announces, raising his glass in the pride of having known Draco Malfoy the longest. Even longer than I've known him, which is almost odd to think about. I've known him for thirteen years. I turn to Johnny.
"We used to work together."
"Used to?"
"His Dad got shot of me," Johnny shrugs. Ouch.
"Your drinks, ladies and gentlemen!" Draco calls, balancing the five glasses expertly between his fingers. And coming back in perfect timing. I murmur my thanks as he points out each of our drinks. Sally takes the glass of white wine, Johnny the Guinness, and Callum a tall, iced cocktail. "Booth?" The others and I all cheer our assent, following him through the overcrowded room back to a comfy, worn-out table nearest one of the shadowed windows.
"Everything alright?" Malfoy asks me as his friends settle into the leather, shuffling to comfort zones. I nod and smile, sitting down beside Sally with Malfoy opposite us. Crammed in the middle, Johnny curses loudly as he collides with Callum, causing us to all laugh. "So, a good week in the end?"
"Not really," I say, hiding my mix of emotions with a large gulp of beer. I joke, "'Twas a bit shit."
"What happened?" Sally asks, setting her wine down. Crap, everyone is staring at me. "Kids being cruel."
"No," I laugh. "Teachers, actually. School politics; they're a nightmare."
"It's like everyone says, working at a school is like being back there," Frederick adds in wisely. I nod and shrug.
"I guess so. It's worse than Hogwarts though." At this, Draco glances away from me. "A lot of them are interested in their own game. They're not there to make friends."
"Sounds horrendous," Callum breathes, leaning closer across the table.
"It's really not," I argue, smiling. "Just this week was bad. I got made teacher of the year -"
"Congrats!" Sally shouts, raising her glass.
"Thanks," I laugh. "But it means that all of the sixty or so other teachers didn't get it," I explain. "Both good and bad for me." Sally frowns in disappointment.
"I always fancied teacher," Frederick admits, leaning back against the seat. "is it really as bad as everyone says? Do you like your job?"
I think about it for a moment. "No, I love my job. The kids are great, and it's super rewarding. I have other stuff I'm doing on the side, though, which reduces the crazy for definite."
"Do you have favourite kids? I bet all teachers do," Callum says conspiratorially. I shake my head, laughing. "No way! I don't believe you!"
"Just because Callum here was obviously the devil child in the class and teachers hated him," Malfoy mutters, earning laughter from everyone.
"Some kids learn better in the school environment," I object, gulping at the beer again. Having studied Theory of Learning and writing similar theses, this should totally be my jam to explain. "Everyone learns in different ways, and in totally different environments. There are no bad kids, just those who prefer the most-taught methods. So, I mix my methods up."
"Like what?"
"The stuff everyone theorises. A combination of group discussion, talking at them, visual, practical," I finish. "All of the stuff."
"That's awesome," Frederick murmurs, looking avidly interested. "What else do you do? The other stuff."
"I'm a reader for a publishing company."
I get the words out quickly. They usually elicit a mixture of responses, from totally bored to manuscript presentations off the bat. Malfoy smiles at me, while the others exchange grins. What did I do?
"So, what do you all do?" I ask, eager to move the conversation away from me, and quickly. I turn to Sally first.
"I own a business," she says casually. My mouth falls open. Shit. And I was talking about teaching. "I make mostly lipstick, but I'm branching out into other stuff more recently. This is mine." She points to her lips.
"Fantastic pigmenting," I murmur, completely amazed.
"Thanks," she laughs. "But Draco is the big business tycoon here." He raises his hands in mock celebration, looking vaguely disinterested in the fact. I'll have to ask him about that. Maybe he had a bad week too. "His father's big-ass company, you know?" I nod. Draco rolls his eyes.
"I work in retail," Callum shrugs. "Menswear at Debenhams, but I also take photographs."
"He's playing it down," Draco smiles, nudging his friends conspiratorially.
"He's really good," Johnny adds.
"Yeah… Maybe. But Johnny's in computer science! Isn't that cool!" Callum tries the distractive technique, causing us all to laugh at his antics.
"No, I'm not," Johnny laughs, playing with his glass. "You're such an idiot."
"What do you do?" Callum asks.
"I'm in corporate law," he tells me, grinning at his smaller friend. Callum rolls his eyes, trying to get Johnny's attention in vain. "Draco, you're on the end. Your own fault." He taps his glass meaningfully. Empty. I glance down at my own. Damn. How did that happen?
"Who wants what?" Malfoy asks, raising a pale eyebrow and smirking.
Ten short minutes later, we've argued through the options, and Sally is pushing me out of the booth to help Draco, both of us grinning like the buzzed fools we are. We wander casually to the bar in silence, arms brushing accidentally three times against each other. I notice because I feel the electricity that passes through us, as cliché as that may seem.
"Are you having a good time?" he asks, orders placed at the bar, one arm leaning against a spare stool. He doesn't look in my direction, but watches the bartender pour out the first pint. I nod.
"Yeah, your friends are great." He smiles in response.
The minutes and hours blur together after that. Three or four more rounds pass – I barely think of them with gaps in between – without much notice, and I'm joking and laughing more than I have done in a long time. And it's severely wonderful. I chat amiably to the others, uncovering that Frederick is actually a surgeon and his quietness is a mixture of seriousness and tiredness. However, he assures me that he can be fun. Callum finally gives in and shows us a small collection of photographs. In all honesty, they're astounding. I make sure to tell him that, to which he flushes with gratitude. Malfoy is just as normal and friendly as the rest of them. We all shuffle spaces as others crawl over laps and under the table to fetch the next round. Sitting between Sally and Frederick, Malfoy having disappeared with Johnny and Callum for drinks and a rowdy game of darts, Frederick reveals something drastic.
"Be careful. He's going through a weird time."
"What do you mean?" I ask, concerned. He doesn't look too bad. Sally leans her head on my shoulder – I'm accepting of her uninhibited contact now.
"Talk to him about it. I'm just saying it because he likes you. Or, at least, he should," he laughs, quietly to himself. "I know who you are." My head snaps up to look at him. "Come on, I've been Draco's best friend for twenty-something years. We tell each other everything."
"Okay." I swallow thickly. Not that I should be nervous.
"You could be really good for him."
I'm not sure how to respond to this, so turn to watch Draco laughing freely as he throws poorly. Frederick doesn't say anything for the next few minutes, having done the friendship thing. Sally sits up straighter, tugging her hair in boredom. She looks tired. Maybe not bored after all. I smile gently at her, playing with the corners on a worn-out coaster.
"Sorry," Frederick murmurs when Sally gets up to leave. "I'm a bit intense."
I laugh lightly. "You're fine." But then I pause. "Let's just say that Draco might be good for me, and I might be good for him, or whatever. But right now, I just want to be a friend."
Frederick accepts that, and we join the others at the dart board.
The crowds greatly diminished, the pub seems halfway empty by the time we're stepping out into the gone-midnight cold air. Sally dons a thick woollen scarf, and I shove on my old and faithful duffel coat. The guys go without jackets. Sally walks beside Frederick, softly singing a tune I've never heard, and wrapping an arm around his thin shoulders. Callum piggybacks on an enthused and probably very inebriated Draco. Johnny tails behind with me, telling me some fantastic stories about what sounds like a riotous childhood.
My mind is flooded with euphoria and the familiar buzz of alcohol. I'm not too drunk. Sober enough to have conscious thought. But I don't feel the near-constant weight of stress I have been experiencing. I don't feel uncomfortably tired. I feel good. Draco's friends are good people.
It takes us only twenty short minutes to stumble through the streets lit by yellow lamps and the flaring car headlights. Finally, we're at Exchange Street, hauling our tired and humming bodies into taxis and saying farewell. Sally takes my hand and a pen, telling me,
"Text me."
Then she kisses me on the cheek and goes to say goodbye to Draco. Her phone number is scrawled across the back of my hand. Smiling, I glance around at the group, decidedly sad to see them go. Such a wonderful time. Except that thing with Draco, and Frederick saying that something is going on with him, and that I should find out. Which this thought perplexes me, Sally shouts out several goodbyes, earning her hollers from Callum, who drags Johnny into a taxi, falling and giggling.
"Make sure she gets home safe," Frederick tells Draco, giving me half a hug and slapping Malfoy on the shoulder. Draco nods and watches him and Sally carefully step into a separate taxi. When the others have left, we wait only a few minutes before another pulls up and we can clamber inside.
"Seatbelt," he reminds me, having told the cabbie where I live. I drag down the click and press it into the blurry, red blotch that must be the right thing. It doesn't click, though. Malfoy sighs and smirks. "Give it here." His hand brushes against my hip, causing me to jolt. He pretends not to notice and clicks his own belt into place.
I watch the yellow and white lights pass from beyond the misted windows, my mind still a little too fuzzy to contemplate much.
"Your friends are great," I say as we pull out onto a roundabout, swerving casually to one side. He smiles in response. "I'm not really sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't that." Malfoy doesn't say a word back, causing me to frown. "Are you okay?" He glances sideways, as if having forgotten that I'm here.
"Oh, yeah. Fine." He returns to neutral.
"Did you have a good time?"
"Yeah, definitely."
"What's going on, Draco?"
"What do you mean?"
"Everything is great, we're all having fun. But as soon as you leave your friends, you're completely different," I reply, hating the accusatory tone in my voice. Malfoy blanches, leaning back against the material of the taxi.
"I've just got a lot on my mind."
"Like what?"
"I don't know, Hermione," he says, exasperated. "Work. Life. Everything. Everything."
We sit quietly for another couple of minutes until I am practically unable to contain myself.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Malfoy doesn't respond. I take it that this is a way to say that he wants to avoid the topic altogether. Fair enough. But I only want to help. It's not a matter of gossip or wanting to know for any other circumstances than his wellbeing – an uncommon thing for Malfoy and me. For some godforsaken reason, it bothers me that there is clearly something more going on, something he hasn't said.
"Right here," Malfoy tells the driver, as the cab travels down my road. "All the way to the end." He turns to me; the taxi having stopped. I pull out my purse, but he halts my hands, placing his on top. "I got it. Look, I'm really glad you had fun tonight. You needed it. And I'm sorry for being all mopey."
"Do you want to come inside for a cup of tea?" I offer. "And actually, talk about what's on your mind?" He looks for a second as though he will object. "Come on Draco, please. I'm not leaving you sour tonight."
He smiles half-heartedly, and I know it's some level of agreement.
"Okay."
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Thanks for reading!