Baking?

Yes.

As in pastries, pies, tarts, and the like?

Ha! No.

As in chocolate chip cookies. I hate to disappoint but I'm no Mary Berry. I can barely preheat Pillsbury sugar cookies without burning them.

Ahh… that's rather disappointing.

Here I was about to go pick out a ring and whisk you back to England with me.

He was joking.

He was clearly joking.

But fuck if his playful text didn't send a flurry of butterflies straight to her stomach, tickling up her throat until a small burst of laughter danced off her tongue like she was some sort of school girl instead of a grown ass woman.

"What the actual hell, Mione!" The hum of the Kitchen Aid mixer came to an abrupt stop. "Did you just—"

"Shut it." Her thumb pressed against the side of her iPhone, turning off the screen before she stuffed the device in her back pocket.

"You did, didn't you?" Harry flicked the locking mechanism open before he twisted the metal bowl from the stand. "You just fucking giggled."

"Harry. Stop."

"Hermione Granger. The sarcastic bitch who, I believe, has thrown around words such as—"

"Harry, so help me God, I will make you cry in front of your godson if you continue." Snatching the wooden spoon from the granite countertop, she leveled it at her best friend like the childhood weapon she knew it to be.

Harry froze, hands still curled around the metal bowl as his emerald eyes slowly narrowed on her, debating the truthfulness to her threat. "Fine… but you did giggle."

The wooden spoon left her hand with a firm flick, twisting through the air like a missile, zooming over the island that separated them, and narrowly avoiding Teddy who was trying to dip two fingers into the sticky chocolate chip batter.

"Ow! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Ha!" Teddy, now semi-permanently blued haired, thanks in part to Hermione's temporary gel and the big doe eyes he gave his aunt, snatched the bowl before it toppled to the floor. Harry bounced on his heels, rubbing the bony part of his shoulder where the spoon hit. "She warned you."

"Oh cock off, Teddy." Harry pursed his lips, lifting his hand from his shoulder to give her a rude two-fingered gesture before he bent to pick up the spoon from the floor. "You're supposed to have my back, remember?"

"Yeah but… Minnie does cool stuff with me."

"And I don't? I took you to Monster Jam last month!"

Teddy shifted his weight between his legs, thin arms curling around the bowl as he cradled it against his chest. "Yeah, but… like, she takes me to the mall for boba, and bought me that Supreme hoodie for Christmas. Oh! And she lets me have some of her Red Bull."

"What?!"

Fuck! That was a secret! Fucking kid. Hermione widened her eyes at Teddy who, at the very least, seemed to realise his error and grimaced with a small shrug. God, he was lucky he was cute.

"First off, it was sugar free, and it wasn't like I let him have the whole thing! It was only like… once. Maybe twice." Harry did not look happy. "It was all I had in my car!"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses, flour covered fingers smearing a trail over his sun kissed skin. "Seriously 'Mione? I—"

"Free daycare, Harry. I am free. He's never been put in real danger while in my care." Had they had a couple close calls over the years? Sure. But regardless of rogue semis and the one incident with a kitchen knife, Teddy was always perfectly safe in her care. He was nine. A little caffeine wasn't going to kill him! It wasn't like she poured Mountain Dew in a fucking baby's bottle. "Besides, I love him. I would never do anything daft like—Oh, I don't know, let him sip on my beer."

Harry's hand dropped like a lead weight, eyes narrowing at her over the thick black rims of his glasses and she watched the wheels churn, memories of that one occasion rolling back to the forefront of his mind. She knew it was a one off, nothing harmful or even vaguely nefarious. They'd been at her apartment grilling while Ginny was out of town with E.M. on some bullshit charity trip, and Teddy, ever the rambunctious little shit, begged to try a sip of his uncle's beer. Harry let him have a swig of his Bottington's, relying on the misguided assumption that his godson would be like most other small folk and dislike the taste.

He'd been wrong.

Teddy didn't spit out the beer. Instead, he tried for a second sip before Harry swiped the can away and told him to go back to playing Mario Kart (or was it Fortnite? Who could keep up when they released so many damn games each week?).

Regardless, it had only happened once, but Hermione had stowed that little nugget of information in her back pocket, waiting for the perfect day to use it. Which was clearly today, because she was going to be damned if Harry got to judge her unfairly for her occasional less than adult choices.

Harry was the first to break, his eyes rolling as his chest expanded with a heavy sigh. "You're the worst, you know that, right?"

"Yeah. But you keep me around anyways." Not untrue. He fucking adored her. She knew it. He knew it. Hell, even his wife knew it.

"Unfortunately, you're like a hemorrhoid… I can't fucking get rid of you."

"Uncle Harry, what's a hemorrhoid?"

Harry's cheeks crimsoned as he reached for his godson, pulling the thin boy close as he looped one arm around his shoulder. "It's something that old people get." He gave Teddy's hair a quick tussle, messing up the blue Mohawk before he plucked the bowl from his arms. "Alright, go get the baking sheets."

Hermione moved around the island, snatching three spoons from the cutlery drawer on the way, and stood beside Harry, playfully nudging him with her hip before holding out one of the spoons with a soft lift of her lips. "Love you."

"Yeah, yeah. Love you too, you tosser." He leaned over, craning down just enough to press a chaste kiss against her cheek, his stubble tickling her before he pulled back and set the aluminum bowl on his counter with a thunk. "Just help me spoon these damn cookies so they can be ready when Ginn' comes home."

"It's too late for that, darling."

Hermione looked over her shoulder to find the redhead in question sauntering into the kitchen, hands propped up on her belly. She was wearing a teal floral sundress that complimented the vibrant red of her hair. Hermione was certain she hadn't picked out the dress herself. No, Ginny tended to favor joggers and sneakers, even while pregnant which meant...

"Minnie!" Before she could so much as react, a little blond wisp ran past her friend at lightning speed and a small set of arms encircled her waist, a familiar face tucked against her stomach.

"Hey Bud!" Dropping her spoon in the bowl, Hermione knelt down to pick up the four year old, propping him on her hip as she hugged him. "What on Earth are you doing here?"

"We're meeting up with Theodore and his boyfriend in Cupertino at six. Ginny offered to play host for a couple hours so I don't have to drive across town." The familiar twang immediately sent the skin on the back of her neck on end and Hermione looked up from the little boy, who was all too happy to loop his arms around her neck, to find the Southern Goddess waltzing in behind Ginny.

All blonde curls, pearly white smile, and perfectly bronzed skin, Ella-Mae was literally everything Hermione was not. Tall, charming, put-together. She wore a canary yellow sundress that looked as if it was literally made for her. Paired with a strappy set of gladiator sandals, she looked as if she'd dressed for a photo shoot instead of returning from the Shelter event that she'd dragged Ginny off to this morning. "Ginny didn't tell me you'd be here though. It's so good to see you, Hermione!"

"That's because Ginny didn't know she'd be here." The redhead quipped before kissing her husband and reaching into the mixing bowl for a spoonful of dough. "Not that I mind—but maybe a heads up would have been nice, Harry."

"Ah, I thought I texted you." Harry shrugged, hand lifting to twist his hair into peaks. "Must have slipped my mind."

"Don't worry. I'm not crashing dinner tonight. Just a quick visit." Hermione playfully bounced Eli on her hip, causing the little boy to squeal excitedly before she set him down at her feet as his mother approached. "And it is good to see you too E.M."

"It's been, what? A couple weeks since brunch." Leaning down, Ella-Mae pulled her into a tight hug. "You look fabulous! Have you lost weight or something?"

Ha! That was laughable. Her diet consisted of potato chips, Diet Coke, cold brew, and cheese sticks. She was fairly certain the way her skirt was digging into her hips gave every indication that no, she most certainly had not lost any fucking weight. Not that miss size two would know anything about that.

"Uh… nope. Same as before, I'm afraid." Fighting through the overpowering floral assault that was her perfume, Hermione returned the embrace before she stepped back, sliding her hands across her hips.

"Well there's something different. Maybe it's that new man of yours."

Fucking Ginny!

Couldn't keep her big mouth shut. She knew she shouldn't have mentioned it. "Heh… maybe. Or maybe you're just getting senile in your old age." At least that was the one thing she could claim on the former beauty queen. Hermione might not be tall, flawless, or graceful, but she was at least younger than her, and although E.M. looked as though as she hadn't aged a day past twenty-one, it was a small (read: tiny) feather in her cap.

"Senile? Ha! Bless your heart. I forgot how funny you are, Hermione." Ella-Mae laughed, her Julia Roberts-esque toothy grin stretching across her painted lips as she claimed an empty barstool beside Teddy who'd begun rolling the cookie dough. "She's just hilarious, isn't she, Ginny?"

"A real laugh-riot." Ginny hummed, leaning back on the counter, palms spread wide across her stomach as she rubbed circles over her bump.

"I think Minnie's funny." Teddy piped up, little hands working a small lump of dough smooth in front of him. "Funny looking!"

Hermione stuck out her tongue at Teddy, like the real mature adult she was, before snatching the bowl from in front of him so she could scoop out some of the dough to add to the greased baking sheet. "You know, if you guys are just going to be jerks, I'll happily go back to my condo where I have a cat who happens to think the world of me."

"No! You can't go!" Eli whined at her side, his little button nose wrinkling. "I just got here. Besides, you promised we could play Monster last night!"

Her movements faltered, the soft dough squishing between her fingers when her grip tightened just a little too much and she gulped. Maybe no one heard the last bit? He was four—four-year-olds made mistakes! They could barely wipe their own ass, surely no one would—

"Oh honey, no. You haven't seen Miss Hermione since the cookout." Ella-Mae gave her son a knowing smile.

"Nu-uh." Eli shook his head so hard a bit of blond fringe flopped over his dark green eyes. "Daddy and I saw her yesterday at—"

"Oh shit! Is it four already?" Hermione dropped her spoon to the counter, letting the loud clatter drown out Eli's words. She wiped her fingers across her skirt, smearing a bit of dough into the expensive fabric. "I need to go!"

Harry cocked a brow, emerald eyes flickering between Eli and her skeptically as Hermione leaned down to press a kiss on the top of the now pouting blond boy's head before she skirted around the kitchen island to do the same to Teddy.

"See ya Sunday?" Hermione tilted her head as she backed away, snatching her beaded bag from the kitchen counter and hastily slinging it over her shoulder. Alarm bells were going off inside her head. She could see the confusion color E.M.'s big blue eyes, and she knew Ginny was beginning to put the puzzle pieces of her and Theo's hidden relationship together across the room. There'd been little hints over years: chance meetings, times they were both busy, and the looks they sometimes shared. Not to mention, sometimes Theo knew things about her that he shouldn't under normal circumstances—like the shape of the birthmark on her hip—but they'd always been able to explain it away.

Until now.

"I'm calling you later!" Ginny shouted across the room, eyes and smile wide with bubbling excitement, like she was seconds away from unwrapping the shiniest Christmas present under the tree.

"I'll be busy!"

"You better bloody answer, Hermione!"

"We'll see!" Backing out of the room, she blew a kiss to the pregnant woman. "Love you both!"

Spinning on her heel, she didn't wait for a reply as she made her exit, letting the front door slam on her way out. Her iPhone was already in her hand as she flew down the front steps. Flicking through her messages quickly, she closed out the conversation with Draco in favor of finding her other beau-of-sorts' thread.

Code red! CODE FUCKING RED NOTT.

What is it this time? x

I just ran into your ex and Eli.

And this is problematic because? x

You see them all the time x

Because Eli might have just told an entire room full of people we met up last night.

Oh… x

Yeah 'oh…'

Any chance that room didn't consist of Ella-Mae & the Potters? x

You wish.

Bugger x

Enjoy pick up.

Gee. Thanks. x

Loose gravel crunched beneath her flats as she made her way towards her MINI. Once safely inside the coupe, she let her head fall back against the headrest and her eyes drifted shut. It was stupid to think this wouldn't happen eventually. Two years was kind of an obscene amount of time to keep what they were doing a secret.

It wasn't like E.M. could protest, she and Theo gave up dating before Eli was even born, and while Harry might disapprove, it was her life, she could do as she pleased.

Surely if they had to come clean as a result of Eli's slip, it wouldn't be that big of a deal… Would it?

buzz… buzz…

Hey! x

Real quick before you ignore me all evening in favour of hiding in your bath x

I will be eating my feelings ala Chunky Monkey and popcorn while I watch 90 Day Fiancé, thank you very much.

God that show is such rubbish. How is your brain not rotten yet? x

Didn't you have something to say? Or is judging my guilty pleasures all you wanted?

I stand by my previous statement, but… x

When can I see you again? x

A laugh rushed from her lungs, and Hermione shook her head in disbelief. She'd just told him they were possibly outed, and knew he was literally hours away from spending the evening with his son and his boyfriend of what she wagered was nearly twenty years.

Biting her bottom lip, her thumbs paused over the screen.

She should feel guilty, right?

Knowing he was going to meet up with his significant other, but still had her on the brain.

She should feel bad.

Friday? I've got plans tomorrow night.

Plans? Anyone I know? x

We agreed not to ask each other, remember?

Oh… THOSE sort of plans? x

Friday. Yes or no?

Pencil me in. x

Think of me when you're with him, Granger. I know I won't be able to stop thinking about you until then. x

Fuck it. She already had a front row ticket to hell. Why not make the most of it?

I'll do my best… I dunno, he's pretty great

If you know what I mean. ::winking emoji::


She had successfully navigated Ginny and Harry away from all Nott-related topics during their nightly chat. It was a great feat, frankly, one she ought to win a fucking Oscar for. She didn't like lying to them, but sometimes it was necessary, and this certainly qualified as one of those occasions.

The night was spent in the comfort of her own condo, eating what Harry lovingly referred to as her adult Lunchable. Cheese and crackers, despite his insistence, was a meal, and just so happened to be one of her go-to's as of late. She hardly had time to shop for groceries, let alone cook an actual dinner.

It was just her and Crooks. Why bother dirtying up what felt like a thousand dishes just for one shitty meal and some leftovers? It was much easier to pull out that trusty blue Ikea cutting board, a dull knife, some twelve dollar cheese from Trader Joe's and pita chips and call it done.

"Ow!" Pulling her hand back, Hermione shook out her fingers, eyes narrowing on the aged orange fluff-ball that sat beside her on the couch, now happily chewing a small piece of cheese he'd taken from her fingers. "Slow down, asshole."

Crookshanks didn't react beyond the expectant glassy eyed blink as he noisily chewed.

She could practically hear her best friend's judgmental snap. 'I told you to stop giving him snacks.' As a man without pets, he hardly seemed like the best person to lecture her on how to raise an animal she'd had for ten years. But now, as she inspected the accidental nip on her fingers, she wondered if he was right.

Feeding him by hand was clearly dangerous.

She really ought to have gotten Crooks his own plate.

Just as she pressed on the pad of her finger, making sure his teeth didn't prick her enough to bleed, the high pitched brring of her phone cut over the ambient noise of Love After Lockup, her latest reality TV addiction.

It was nearly eleven at night, which meant something was up with one of the Potters, or one of her team members was phoning in sick. She wasn't really prepared to deal with either in her current state. Snatching the remote from the cushion beside her, she jammed the mute button before leaning forward to snatch her iPhone as it buzzed its way across her coffee table.

Hot Brit #2 flashed across the screen, except it wasn't a black background. No, the image behind his name reflected her own make-up free, freshly showered face.

Fuck.

Draco wanted to FaceTime and she still had her hair in a towel.

Setting her feet on the floor, she quickly yanked the ratty cloth from her head. Using the phone's reflection, she adjusted the still wet curls to appear at least semi-controlled before she leaned back on the couch, trying to give off the illusion of being calm, cool, and collected.

Which was basically everything she never claimed to be.

Her screen blinked as she accepted his call, the familiar three chimes rang, indicating the connection was being made, and she ran her tongue across her lips.

They had only texted a couple hours ago, confirmation for tomorrow's dinner at a noodle house just up the road from her condo. It was far from the theatrics of their first date, but with any luck, she was hoping she could convince him to come over for a nightcap at her place—she had absolutely zero ulterior motives…

Okay, maybe just a few if she was being honest with herself, but hoping for a repeat of their first night together wasn't being too presumptuous! She needed to see if he was as gifted as she remembered. It was her civic duty at this point! Inquiring minds (read: Ginny) needed to know and who was she to deny them?

Draco's image burst to life on her phone. She could make out his features and blond hair as damp as her own hanging across his forehead in an artful swoop that was really unfair. He was shirtless. His bare chest and shoulders hugged the edges of the phone screen and she could just make out the twinkle of city lights in the darkness behind him.

"Well, hello." Less charming that she'd hoped, but the greeting slipped from her tongue before she could reassess.

He was outside, possibly on some sort of porch or balcony. His smile widened and his eyes seemed to brighten as she came into focus on his end. "You're up."

"It appears so." Settling back on her couch, she lifted her feet to rest on the edge of her coffee table as she lifted her arm up to give Draco less of an opportunity to see her double chin. "What's up?"

He lifted a cigarette to his lips, and her expression must have given away her surprise, because he let out a breathy little chuckle, puffs of white smoke slipping across his lips. "Ahh… Yes, I forgot. You don't know all my bad habits yet. Sorry."

"Don't apologize for being yourself. While smoking is not my favorite, it's hardly my place to tell you what to do."

"I wasn't apologizing for smoking, love." He took another slow drag from the cigarette, the ember growing bright red in stark contrast to the inky blackness of his background. "Rather, I am about to disappoint you."

He said it like he was familiar with being the bad guy, like he lived in a world where he was constantly inadequate, and despite herself, her heart strings thrummed. God, she'd been there. She'd spent years under that same self-deprecating cloud, and the familiarity made her both hate herself and long to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug to make it at least a little more bearable.

"Oh?"

"I'm afraid I need to reschedule our date."

Oh… shit. A gush of disappointment spread, tightening an invisible band across her chest as the weight of her own self-doubt quivered under its pressure. It was innate, her sudden instinct to blame this last minute cancelation on her own flaws.

Had she said something wrong?

Was she expecting too much?

Sure, they'd talked all week, and things seemed to be going well, but maybe she read too much into his friendly demeanor.

Maybe he wasn't interested anymore since they'd already slept together. Maybe he'd already gotten what he wanted and was ready to move on to his next conquest.

Sitting up, she tried to gulp down the lump born of both discontent and self-doubt. She was never really good at masking her emotions. Her mother would often remind her of this growing up, and since her passing, Harry seemed to unknowingly carry on that particular torch. Her lips pulled down in the slightest hint of a frown and her forehead wrinkled.

"I know this is shite timing and I'm sorry. My childcare plans just fell through—hence the late night call."

"Here I was thinking you just wanted to see my face." That's right. Forced sarcasm was always the best alternative to discussing real feelings. It was her signature move, after all.

"Well, I do want to see you—preferably in person." He took another quick drag and blew the smoke into the night sky before snuffing out the cigarette in a dish off camera. His hand immediately found his hair, fingers carding through the platinum locks as he began to walk. "You look sore."

"I'm not mad."

"Disappointed?"

"Maybe a little." Crookshanks hopped up beside her, meowing loudly upon his approach as he cozied up beside her to rub his fuzzy head against her arm. "But not mad. I get it."

"Do you?" The sound of the glass door sliding shut was subtle and she assumed he'd moved inside of his Airbnb. "I'm really sorry. I was looking forward to Ramen, you know?"

"But not to seeing me?" Okay… she might be digging a little. Sue her.

Draco's lips quirked on the grainy screen and she watched as he navigated through the living room, catching glimpses of the smartly decorated rental behind him. "I feel like that's a given, but if you need some reassurance, I am happy to oblige."

"You really ought to, my heart is a bit wounded."

"I was looking forward to seeing you again, Hermione." The breathy laughter that lined his words was charming, giving him an almost care-free sort of vibe, which felt light years away from his despondency moments earlier. It seemed their playful banter was able to bring forth a much more relaxed, perhaps even better, version of himself. "Truly."

As was she. Since they'd made plans at the beginning of the week, she'd eagerly awaited being in his orbit once more. It wasn't just the sex—though, she wouldn't get ahead of herself, because that absolutely had an impact on her disappointment. But she also enjoyed just being around him. Talking to him. Getting to know him.

This was three months of fun. A mere ninety days of care-free dating. The kind where she actually got to have fun instead of worrying about every single detail. She could go back to the real sort of dating once Draco was back in England because lord only knew her window of viability on being an ideal candidate was fading just as rapidly as her trim waistline.

But maybe there was the slight, teeny, tiny, twinkling tint of hope that lingered in the back of her mind every time he playfully mentioned whisking her back to England with him. Maybe the stuttering of her heart each time he mentioned wanting to show her something in London wasn't just random heart palpitations. Maybe, just maybe, she had a shot at something real with him.

Maybe…

"You know… I am pretty good with kids." Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as her head cocked to the side, something akin to hope and apprehension filling her mind as she watched him process her hint with raised brows. "It doesn't have to be a thing—like a real date. We could just… ya know, meet up somewhere with your son… If you want to, of course! Totally no pressure or anything."

He flicked off the light in the room, and for a moment, the screen was shrouded in darkness, leaving her entirely unable to assess if she'd pushed too far. Her heartbeat increased, anxiety dripping in her veins like an IV of morphine, the slow creeping cold starting at her toes and working up her legs until it hit her stomach.

"Draco?"

"Sorry—I was just thinking."

She could hear the squeak of a bedframe, and a soft click before warm light filled the room from what appeared to be a bedside lamp. The camera came back into focus, revealing his handsome face once more as he leaned back on a padded headboard.

"I'm sorry, that was probably forward of—"

"No, no, it's not that." His head shook as he cut her off, carding his fingers through his hair again. "I was just thinking of logistics… I'm still not good at navigating the city and I just didn't know where we could all go. That's all. The mall is rather cliché, and truth be told, not ideal for a four-year-old."

Almost immediately, the fear and self-doubt slipped away as a bubble of excitement burst inside her like an overfilled party balloon. It was all she could do to not let out a rather unadult squeal.

"Okay… he's four. Right. I know the perfect spot."

"Do you have much experience with four-year-olds? I seem to remember your friend's son being quite a bit older." He tipped his chin down, looking at her over the bridge of his nose with an air of disbelief.

"Pfft, are you kidding me? Of course I do." She waved off his question, pulling her feet up onto the couch as she tipped back on the cushions to lay down. Rolling onto her stomach, she let the phone rest against the arm of the couch, making sure she had an optimal angle before she wedged her hand under her chin. "I met Teddy when he was six—which I understand isn't four, but I do have a friend with a four-year-old and he absolutely adores me."

"The son or your friend?"

"Both," she answered without a hint of hesitation, partially because it was true, but mainly because she liked to see that toothy smile that spread across his features when he tipped his head back in laughter. "I am basically the coolest, you know?"

"You are pretty high on my list. Right alongside James Bond and the late great Freddy Mercury."

"Considering only one of them is a real person, I will take that as a compliment."

"As you should, but I'd like to point out, while he is fictitious, Mr. Bond is arguably the coolest spy."

"Keyword there is arguably. I am more of a Bourne fan myself, when forced to choose."

"Oh wow… This might be the first thing I don't like about you." Draco put a hand on his chest, slowly shaking his head in mock disbelief.

"There had to be something, right? I couldn't be completely perfect or you might never leave the U.S."

"You are rather tempting."

Stupid butterflies. They needed to go away. They were doing her no favors in the shameless flirting department.

"So, we're on for tomorrow, then?"

He slipped down his headboard until his head hit the pillows. She couldn't help but smile when he mirrored her movements, propping his phone up before pulling the thick white comforter around his torso and settling into his bed. "I don't know… I mean—"

"Look, I get it if you'd rather not, honestly, but I swear I'm good with kids… Like the best. And it could just be casual. I won't even try to hold your hand or anything."

"You'd be okay with just hanging out?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" Her shoulders rose and fell in a small shrug. "You're fun to be around, and… I mean, as satisfying as the other stuff was, I still enjoyed your company."

Draco nodded, lips pursing at the corners, and even through her phone's small screen, she could practically see his mind whirling over the possibilities, trying to assess if it was a good idea or not for her to meet his offspring. "Okay. Just hanging out though."

"Perfect!" Had she been any less hopeless, she might have been able to keep the soft squeak of excitement from her voice, but she'd clearly given up the guise of appearing cool and aloof with him ages ago. "There's a nice park off Senter and Story. We can meet there and let him play for a little before heading to dinner."

Draco nodded, chin falling into his palm as he propped himself up on his elbow. "Alright. Four still work?"

"I should be able to swing it. I can text you if anything changes." Reaching out, she tapped on the phone's screen, returning the timestamp to the corner as she let out a heavy breath. It was nearing midnight, and as much as she wanted to continue, she did have an early meeting to attend. She was certain if she was late, Queenie would murder her. "I should probably go."

"Already?"

"Unfortunately, not all of us are on… What do you guys call it? Holiday?"

"Yeah, that's it." Draco picked up his phone, rolling onto his back so his blond hair spread across the white pillow case. "Although, I'd like to point out that technically I am working while I'm here."

"Working remotely doesn't count, Draco."

"And I still don't understand why you think that."

Hermione scoffed. "Because if you can watch porn without shame while working, then it's not real work."

"Ha!" He let out a sharp laugh, wide smile once more spreading across his features, and she could see a light tint of pink on his cheeks. "Did you put spyware on my phone or something?"

"Hardly. You're a man, I know how your kind works." Pushing up on the cushion, Hermione picked up her phone, holding it aloft with one hand as she grabbed her half-eaten plate of cheese and crackers from the coffee table. "On that note, I think I should probably let you go."

"Okay, but... one more thing."

"Yeah?"

He hesitated, a twinkle of mischief coloring his eyes for just a second before he spoke. "The other night was satisfying?"

She almost dropped the plate, a loud burst of unlady-like laughter bubbling up her throat as a warm blush crept over her cheeks and she shook her head. "Goodnight, Draco."

"Is that a yes?" he pressed, a single brow arching. "That's a yes, right? Clearly a yes."

"Good night."

"Night, Hermione."


Author's Note:

For those non-American folks, Monster Jam is a Monster Truck show that travels around major US cities. It's pretty much filled with young kids and their respective parents/caregivers. Imagine an outdoor stadium that's very loud due to engine sounds, popcorn, stale beer, and loads of cotton candy. That's Monster Jam.

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