AN: Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Happy New Decade! Did I miss any...? Oh and Happy New Chapter! I hope everyone had a lovely holiday and a great start to the new year! This chapter is pretty dialogue heavy but it's setting us up for the events in the next few chapters (two of which may already be written cough cough). We're reaching a point where my plot bunny turned into a whole fic idea and grew wings of its own, so if it gets too crazy or too unrealistic please let me know! At this point, my muse is in charge so it's probably her fault.
But seriously, I'm pretty excited for the chapters to come and for the Dramione relationship to develop, but it will be straying from the original tattoo shop story turning into a whole thing of its own. I'm more than happy to receive opinions and constructive criticism, it helps me grow and write what you guys want to read! So PLEASE feel free to leave reviews! Love to you all and without any more delay or rambling, on with the story!
NEW AN: Hey guys, I updated this chapter with just a few things added, no biggie. You don't HAVE to reread it, but it'll make things flow a little easier later. I think. Maybe...
"Can I get a large chai tea latte, please?"
The familiar sounds and smells of the Magic Mocha Cafe brought a warm comfort to Hermione. She'd missed the little cafe while she had been with Miranda and Jacob. It was her retreat in Diagon Alley when she was working on the latest tattoo development or patent. Most of the baristas knew her by name, as embarrassing as it was, and always made her feel at home when she stopped in.
Accepting her coffee from Holly, Hermione inhaled the wonderful smell while making her way over to her table. It was a small circle of coffee stained wood positioned next to one of the windows and gave her the perfect view of the bustling Alley outside. She enjoyed people watching while she worked; it was a great source of inspiration for new designs and drawings. Taking her seat, she sipped her drink and waited for Draco.
When Hermione had suggested a tiny and not very well-known coffee shop for their next date, Draco had been completely unsurprised and a little thankful. He hated to admit, muggles knew how to party and had left him with a major hangover that potions barely helped. It would be a pleasant reprieve to sit somewhere quiet and ingest enough caffeine to alleviate the rest of his hangover.
Walking into the Magic Mocha was like stepping into a personification of Hermione's bookworm personality. Warm, quiet, and peaceful with soft lighting and gentle music created a cozy atmosphere that was so fitting. He ordered his drink and immediately began looking for Hermione among the tables situated next to the windows. Ever the people watcher, she was too predictable. He took a moment to just look at her while waiting for his drink.
The warm lighting of the cafe bathed Hermione is a golden light that illuminated her skin. The olive sweater she wore hung off her shoulder allowing just a hint of the swirling colors of her tattoos to peak out. Her curls fell gracefully around her and framed her beautiful face. A faint sprinkle of freckles decorated the bridge of her nose which wrinkled in the most adorable way as she cast silent judgments on the people walking by. Delicate fingers cradled an equally delicate tea cup that rested gently against her lips. He smiled faintly at the memory of how those lips felt and had to look away before his thoughts could run away from him.
Draco accepted his coffee from the woman behind the counter and made his way over to Hermione. He kissed the top of her head gently, a small smile on his face. "Good morning, love."
A light blush colored her cheeks at the term of endearment. "Good morning, Draco. Sleep well?"
"Very," Draco sighed as he sat down in the plush arm chair across from her. "I was far too drunk for anything else. Muggles are much more resilient than I gave them credit for; I feel as though the music is still pounding inside my head. My hangover relief potions hardly helped."
Hermione chuckled and slid a small vile across the table. "I thought that might be the case. This is a modified version that's slightly more potent."
"Thank the gods." Draco downed it without further question and cringed slightly at the bitter taste. He sighed in relief as his pulsing headache began to fade. "What did you change to make it more potent?"
Chewing on her bottom lip, which was far too tempting of a sight for Draco, Hermione hesitated. "I couldn't tell you, really. I have the ingredients written down but not memorized."
Draco gave her a skeptical look. "The Great Hermione Granger not having something memorized? Impossible."
She rolled her eyes at him and sipped at her coffee, apparently through with the conversation. "How is your mother?"
Draco ignored her obvious change of subject, just this once. "She's doing well; already planning our Yule festivities of course." He rolled his eyes but there was amusement in his voice. "It's her biggest event of the year, and somehow she gets joy from decorating."
Hermione smiled softly and asked, "Does your family celebrate Yule together?"
"Usually," Draco sipped his coffee and sighed. "But the night before Mother always throws a big party for all of her friends and their families. It's quite the headache if you ask me."
"It sounds like fun," she said wistfully, her eyes holding a far off look.
Draco frowned. He'd seen that same look in her eyes before, but where? An image of Hermione's office desk flitted across his mind. The muggle photograph; Hermione had the same distant look in her eyes when he had asked about it. She looked sad but not overwhelmingly so; as if it was something in the past that still brought her a sense of sadness. What had happened that could cause such sadness to linger?
Hermione delicately cleared her throat. The sadness vanished from her eyes, and if he hadn't already seen it he wouldn't know it had been there. It was so fleeting but deeply unsettled him, as well as the fact that he couldn't seem to find any safe topics of conversation today. He opened his mouth to ask what was bothering her, but she beat him to it.
"Do you have any plans for the rest of your day?"
He raised an eyebrow at her to show her obvious change of subject wasn't missed but responded, "I believe Luna wants to have brunch later today."
"Luna? I didn't realize you both were brunch friends. When did you see her?"
"I went by your shop the other day, she and Ginevra were both there. Are they running the place now?" He took a sip of his coffee and gave her a faux concerned look. "I hesitate to think of what will become of the place with those two in charge."
"They're actually quite capable," she said reproachfully. "I would absolutely trust them to run Virago for me. But, no, they were just watching over it while I was visiting Mo and Jacob."
He internally grumbled at the mention of Jacob - perhaps not his rival but certainly at the top of his list. Draco asked, "So does that mean you're back?"
"Of course, I'm here aren't I?"
"Then I will do my best not to run you off this time." He winked at her to show he was only slightly serious.
She smiled sweetly at him, a spark of mischief dancing in her eyes. "See that you don't. I've been away from my shop too long; my fingertips are itching to tattoo again."
"Did you not find any victims at the other one? I was sure you would have people lined up and down the streets hoping for the blessing of your art permanently on their bodies."
"Unfortunately, no," she said with a somewhat dejected smile. "Tattoos are too muggle for most magical people. Although it isn't quite taboo in the Wizarding World, it certainly isn't accepted, especially by the older generation. And now that I've started combining magic with my art, I don't really want to go back to the non-magical customers."
He bumped his foot against hers and smiled reassuringly when she looked up at him. "I guess you'll just have to settle for covering every inch of Luna then."
"I suppose so," she said while chuckling and shaking her head fondly. "She really seems determined to reach such a goal, doesn't she?"
"Have you told her you might have found a way to produce her glowing moon phases?"
"Oh no, I completely forgot." She frowned slightly at her mug as if her drink had somehow offended her. "I got caught up in everything else that was happening and completely forgot."
"I'm sure Luna of all people will be able to understand being forgetful."
"It isn't like anyone else can give her that tattoo, either." Her tone conveyed some of her pride as did her smile. "I've been sure to patent everything with the Ministry as I worked so that I'll be the only shop open for some time. Everyone was so sure I would fail that they didn't question any of the patents I gave them."
"Seems pretty foolish on their part, though I'm glad you could profit from their deficiency. Do you plan on remaining the only magical tattoo shop in all of Britain?"
"Why?" she asked with a small hint of hurt in her voice. "Did you plan on getting a tattoo from someone else?"
"No, I believe," he drawled, "I have found the ideal artist for me. I don't believe I would allow anyone else the opportunity to sully the masterpieces I already have."
Hermione blushed prettily at the compliment and muttered something into her mug.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" He leaned forward with a hand cupped to his ear. "I couldn't quite hear you."
"I said they're hardly masterpieces," she mumbled only slightly louder.
"You're right," he conceded. "They're not. They are more than a masterpiece, but I am afraid they are so beautiful and of such perfection that mere words were not enough, and though you could put any artist to shame I had to settle on the inadequate description of mere masterpieces. Forgive me."
She had started laughing halfway through his speech, and her blush had become even more prominent across her cheeks. He enjoyed being able to make her smile so much and with such ease. To him there was no better sound than her laughter.
They moved on to more inconsequential topics, from Ginny's latest conquest to Theo's attempts to become Hermione's apprentice. They were laughing over a creative insult Pansy had thrown at Blaise - something elaborate involving his hair and a peacock - when a new arrival at their cafe caught their attention.
"I'm sorry to interrupt." Harry's expression was grave; it was a look Hermione hadn't seen in a very long time and caused her chest to tighten with apprehension.
"Harry," Hermione greeted him hesitantly. "Is everything alright?"
Harry gave Draco a long look. "It's not my place to say, but I need to speak with Draco, preferably outside."
Dread opened up like a pit in Draco's stomach. He knew it probably had something to do with his father but was afraid to ask. "I'll meet you outside in a moment."
Harry nodded and gave Hermione a small smile. "Sorry, Mione." He left allowing Draco at least a few minutes to prepare himself for whatever Potter had to say. He felt Hermione's hand rest gently on his which gave him more reassurance than he expected. He looked up at her and allowed himself to get lost in her eyes. She deserved better than this. It was becoming nearly impossible for him to actually finish a date properly, and with this mess with his father added to it…
"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I need…" Draco wasn't sure what to say. How do you explain that your father is an absolute madman hell bent on destroying the government and entire Wizarding World as they know it? That the future of his family, and possibly his entire world, rested solely on his shoulders? Draco swallowed dryly against the lump in his throat.
"Draco," Hermione said softly, squeezing his hand to get his attention. When he finally looked at her she said, "It's okay. Do what you need to. I'll be there when you finish." She smiled reassuringly, but he could see the anxiety in her eyes.
"It's about my father, that's all."
She nodded and squeezed his hand again. "I trust you."
Draco put his hand against her cheek and kissed her softly. He rubbed his thumb gently over her cheekbone and drank in the warmth in her eyes, as if it could warm the cold fear growing in his chest. "Thank you." He kissed her once more than left the cafe to join Harry outside.
Hermione swallowed thickly and stared at her coffee cup, trying desperately to keep her tears at bay. The small, quiet part of her that had always feared the War wasn't over was growing just a little bit louder.