There was no disdain seeping out of a curled lip. No narrowed eyes. No wrinkling of his nose in disgust. After so many years of not seeing him, that was the first thing Hermione noticed about Draco Malfoy.

His utter lack of expression.

That was in stark contrast to her obviously anxious demeanour. Meeting with former Death Eaters in Muggle London, in her favourite cafe, wasn't something that Hermione regularly did. Unsurprisingly, she never did it. Malfoy asked her to meet, by bloody owl with a stupid embossed letter, with no indication of what it was about. What was his motive? Was this a trap? How the fuck did he know she liked Calico Cafe? Her curiosity got the best of her, but it threw her into an agonizing three days of wracking her brain.

Is it to apologize? As if.

To murder her? Likely.

To kill off a few muggles and then pin it on her? Possibly.

Perhaps in-

"Granger? Should we reschedule, or can you get the nargles out of your head?"

Hermione refocuses, meeting his eyes once again.

"Sorry," she mutters, tucking a piece of wild hair behind her ear. "I've already ordered my drink. I wasn't- I wasn't sure what you wanted, so I didn't get anything for you. Muggle drinks are much different than magical ones and they can be a bit of an acquired taste - I really don't like their mochas here and-"

"Breathe, Granger. I'm not going to curse this place up in the event I don't like my drink."

She exhales. How stupid of her to genuinely believe that.

"However," his lip twitches, "If it happens, I might hit the bartender with a bat-bogey hex. I still have a reputation to uphold, you know."

An actual attempt at banter? Hermione's eyes couldn't roll farther back if she tried. "It's barista, not bartender. Bartenders are strictly those who serve at establishments selling alcohol."

He sinks into the chair across from her - rather gracefully - never breaking eye contact. "The omission of Muggle Studies from my Hogwarts timetable has clearly had a slight negative effect on me, wouldn't you say?"

"I'd say that is a slight understatement."

Malfoy doesn't give a reaction, even with the layers of meaning underneath that comment. He doesn't even attemptpt change the subject, leaving them in an awkward silence that Hermione doesn't know how to handle. Moments of deafening quiet pass as she sips her cappuccino.

"Are you going to get a drink?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know how to order from Muggle places, and I don't feel like creating a scene."

There's a slight pause, and then the question that's been on her mind escapes before she can stop it. "How did you know I like this place?"

He crosses his legs. Ever the aristocrat. "I didn't."

"Why pick it then? There's a thousand cafes in London."

"An acquaintance recommended it."

"Mm," she mutters, setting her cup on the small table separating him. "I feel like we should get to the point."

"Does there have to be a point to a meeting between old friends?"

"I'm going to ignore the second half of your sentence and focus on the first half. With you, Malfoy, there is always a point, and there is no need to keep up this pretence."

He sighs. For a fraction of a section, as he leans back in his chair, she can see a hint of emotion seeping through.

Exhaustion.

"Very well, Granger. The Ministry of Magic currently employs me as a consultant as part of my never-ending probation. Despite the years that have gone by, I am not exactly loved by society yet. As you've already seen, my lack of knowledge about Muggles is… obvious, to say the least. I have been encouraged to make an effort to learn about muggle culture and customs to try and show to the Ministry and the Wizarding World as a whole my desire, drive, and progress with rehabilitation."

She stares at him. "Did someone coach you to say that?"

He winces. "Is it that obvious?"

"Clearly, your pureblood education never taught you the art of acting. Why in the bloody hell would you reach out to me?"

"It was suggested."

"By the same person who coached you on what to say?"

"Obviously."

"They're an idiot, Malfoy, and you should genuinely consider never taking their advice again. Now, if you'll excuse me-" she stands up abruptly from her chair - "I will be off now."

He stands up immediately. "Granger, wait-"

"Under what circumstances did you think I would actually say yes?"

"I didn't think you would."

"Then why are you trying to convince me right now? What was the point of even meeting with me?"

"Because Longbottom insisted that you were the best person to help me, and it's not like I could tell him no."