Hello again. Here is the June update. I know I said that the April update was my favorite, but this one has taken its place. It's just packed full of everything, I think. We're almost halfway through this story!
Beta love to mcal.
Hermione
Hermione leaned back on the balls of her feet, glancing from the door before her back to her car that sat in the parking lot. She chewed her bottom lip, fingernails digging into her palm as she debated whether or not she was going to really follow through with this. Yes, she'd told him that she would teach him to make an omelette, but it wasn't hard. He could type it into any internet search engine, and find himself with the answer.
Their friendship had been built on the fact that she didn't have a car, and he insisted on taking her everywhere. Now her car had been recently returned to her—with a knocking under the hood that surely meant trouble—so she wasn't sure if she was intruding at that point. Huffing to herself, she spun on her heel. Hermione would think of something, anything to tell Draco for why she couldn't make it.
There was an emergency at the Quibbler. That would do it. Padma was incompetent and had deleted all of her files. Hermione had—no, really—fixed it before, so naturally Padma called her first.
She was on the second step down when the door swung open. Looking over her shoulder with a slight grimace, Hermione found Draco leaned against the doorframe. "Hello."
He smirked, folding his arms over his chest. She'd never given it much thought before, but it was clear from how the shirt fit him that he must visit a gym a few times a week. As Hermione's mouth dried, Draco filled the silence. "I don't know if you're aware, but you're meant to ring the doorbell. Doors normally don't magically open if you stare at them."
She swallowed. How long had he known she was there? Hermione didn't know what to say. "Will you laugh at me if I tell you I was nervous?" Apparently, honesty was her natural default, then...
"Depends on the reason, I suppose." He grinned.
Hermione trudged back up the stairs, stepping inside his flat when he motioned for her to enter. "I worried that I was intruding. You work so much, and I'm sure you have better things to do with your spare time."
He took her jacket, a light knit one that she favoured above all her others, and hung it on the rack beside the front door. "I don't."
"What?" She tilted her head to the side.
"I mean, yes, I do work several hours, but no, I don't have anything I'd rather be doing today. If you would rather—"
Hermione laughed. "I'm not normally this awkward."
"You aren't?" Draco arched an eyebrow. "That's a surprise. You've always been awkward, and abrasive around me."
Rolling her eyes, she looked around his flat. "Maybe you're the awkward one."
"Definitely not." He led her into his kitchen, but she lingered in the sitting room.
On the mantle, there were several photographs that grabbed her attention. Without thinking of her previous worry that she was barging into his life, she went one step further by invading his personal space. Hermione picked up the frame on the far right. Draco stood between Narcissa, and another man who she could assume was his father.
They looked so much alike. Hermione couldn't guess how old his father was from the picture, but if Draco took after his father…
"Those are my parents, but I'm sure you knew that," Draco spoke from beside her. "In the interest of being transparent, that was taken the morning of my wedding. You can't tell, but I'm absolutely hungover."
She sniggered. "How hungover?"
"Enough that my mother ripped my sunglasses off my face when I met them for the photographer. Despite already having a stag night, Theo threw another party the night before." Draco chuckled to himself. "Mother shovelled mints down my throat. If I'd actually made it to the altar, Tori would have beat me with her atrociously large bouquet."
Hermione knew that Theo was the one who had put the final nail in Draco's marriage, but he talked about the man as if he'd never done him wrong. Draco still smiled at the memory, and he discussed his wedding so easily that she wondered how one could move on from something like a divorce.
"Did you ever speak to Theo after…"
Draco shook his head, and she was relieved to see that he wasn't angry with her for asking such a personal question. "He tried to apologise, but I didn't want to hear it."
"He can't blame you for that. It's inexcusable what he did."
He set the photo back on the mantle. "It is. While I held them both at fault, I was more angry with Astoria than Theo."
It made sense. "Scorpius doesn't know why you've split, I assume," Hermione said slowly, not sure why she was curious at all. It wasn't her business.
Luckily for her, he caught her question and answered. He was completely open with her, a small fact that she found refreshing. "No. It was never an option for him to know. Being so young, if I were to say how she cheated on me, or if I was angry about it, it would only poison him against her."
She leaned against the arm of the leather recliner to her right. "You're a better person than I think I could have been," Hermione admitted quietly.
He cracked a smile. "Oh, don't say that. I wasn't so kind when I learned everything."
Hermione looked to him curiously. "What does that mean?"
Pulling his gaze away from her, Draco raked his fingers through his hair. "I'm not proud of it, but Theo was sporting several nasty bruises in the following weeks."
"You hit him?" In the heat of the moment, Hermione thought that reaction was knee jerk at best, but the man in front of her always seemed to have such a good handle on his emotions that she couldn't imagine it.
Draco grimaced. "More than once. He didn't hit back."
That was something, but she wasn't sure what. Hermione looked at the pictures again, finding one that surprised her, but she knew who it was. "Is this Astoria?" Hermione asked, pointing to the photo. She held a newborn in her arms, her lips gently curved into a smile as she swaddled Scorpius. "She's really pretty."
Draco swallowed behind her. "I used to think so. Infidelity ruined that for me, that's for certain."
Not that she was going to say anything, but it brightened her mood. Just a bit. It wasn't as if it mattered to her whether he still found his ex-wife attractive or not.
"Scorpius likes the picture. That's the only reason I keep it up."
Well, she hadn't asked, but that only made her heart clench a little more. "Does his miss his mum when he visits?"
"Not normally. It wasn't easy at first, but he's adjusted."
Hermione turned away from the mantle, taking a quick onceover of the room and the furniture that was arranged throughout it. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't have asked so many questions."
His hand skimmed her shoulder, giving a slight squeeze. "I don't mind. Ask any questions you want."
In hindsight, Draco had no idea how many questions she could think of.
Draco
She opened the fridge, humming to herself as she crouched down. "Eggs," Hermione muttered to herself as she handed the carton to him. "You said you made an omelette before, didn't you?"
Draco set the carton on the counter. "It wasn't very good."
She brushed her hands off on her leggings. While perhaps he enjoyed her wearing them a little too much—and he wasn't likely to admit that he stole glimpses at her arse—he found himself wishing she hadn't worn them when she knelt down in front of him again.
Hopefully she didn't see him rolling his eyes at himself. "I took one bite and threw it away. In theory, I understand how to make this, but I'm pants at making it taste edible."
Her hair fell from her bun as she tipped her head back, laughing. "Alright, that's fair." She rifled through his cupboards, grabbing a measuring cup, salt, and pepper. "Would you grab the butter? I forgot it."
He nearly dropped the carton of eggs when Hermione crawled on top of the counter to grab the pepper that was barely out of reach. "I could have gotten it down for you." He chuckled.
The strands that had freed themselves whipped around her as she turned her head. Heat rose to her cheeks as she looked down at herself kneeling on his counter. "I'm not very tall, so I'm used to this. Although, climbing on your counters probably isn't a good impression."
Draco pulled the butter from the fridge, setting it on the counter beside the stovetop. "It's a bit late for first impressions."
"Right," Hermione drawled. She ran the faucet, filling the measuring cup some. "We both know how that went. You threw coffee on me, and then I acted like my mother never taught me any manners."
He blinked as he leaned against the counter. "That's not the first time I met you." He said slowly, not sure he wanted to elaborate on it at all if she didn't remember.
Her brows drew together. "You did? When?"
"The first day I moved here. I visited the Three Broomsticks on the recommendation of a colleague. You were sitting in the same spot you always do, and you were looking for something. I asked if you lost something." His eyes searched hers for any bit of recognition. "I asked what you were looking for, and you told me it was a pen you'd just bought, your favorite is what you told me."
Her eyes widened, and her grip on the salt tightened. "You asked me if it was blue. You pulled it out of my hair. I never even saw who you were." Hermione was thinking of something, of whether she wanted to say it or not. In the end, she said nothing.
"So," Draco cleared his throat. "You didn't ruin any first impression at all."
"You remembered everything about that moment down to the details." Hermione had the uncanny habit of blurting her thoughts out before clapping a hand over her mouth. "It's just interesting is all."
Were his cheeks growing hot? He hoped not. "You were interesting." Draco flipped the carton of eggs open, pulling two out. He cracked them both at the same time, discarding the shells in the trash.
She let the conversation go, handing him the salt and pepper before hopping up onto the counter.
He caught her wince. "What is it?"
"Nothing."
"I'm not going to cart you off to the nearest hospital if you're hurt." Draco sniggered, taking the fork she held out. "But I'll get the proper documentation that you're refusing treatment first."
"Keep that in the bedroom?" She joked.
He let his smirk linger before turning his head away. "What's wrong?"
Hermione huffed. "You could have at least laughed at my joke."
He lifted a hand to his chest, feigning surprise. "I wasn't aware that you told one."
She gritted her teeth. "I fell this morning during my run. I'm on the mend after putting an ice pack on it, but I'll probably skip running until the swelling goes down."
Draco pressed the bowl into her chest. "Mix that. Can you kick off your shoes?"
She spluttered. "Draco, I don't need you to look at it. Really, I'm fine." She had to know he didn't believe her. "Alright, fine. I hope my feet smell."
He rolled his eyes as she kicked her shoe off, and he found that her ankle was still swollen, more so than what would be typical. "Did you fall down a well?"
There was silence before she shook from laughing. "It's a ridiculous story so why don't you just give me the prognosis and we'll call it good."
Draco gently raised her foot, sliding the hem of her leggings up. "You should definitely skip the runs, but this needs to stay elevated. It looks like a bad sprain." While he didn't look up, he heard her breath catch in her throat as his fingers moved over her skin. "What happened?"
Just like always, which he was quickly beginning to learn, she caved when he asked for the second time. "I spotted Hagrid and Fluffy as I was making my way down the stairs near the park. Instead of jogging down them, I decided to jump down the last six steps."
"Six is a pretty specific number."
Hermione snorted. "I had a good chance to count them while I was laying on the ground while I tried to catch my breath. Think I'll live, doc?"
"Go sit on the couch and prop your foot up." He told her, and he expected it when she argued. "Talk me through cooking. Obviously, you don't take care of yourself unless someone forces you to do so."
She scoffed. "You sound like my mother."
He shooed her off, taking the bowl from her hands. "Watch the telly if you like. I'm sure I can handle the cooking."
She collapsed on his sofa, propping a pillow beneath her foot while shooting looks at him.
"You can use the decorative pillows. Honestly, I don't care for them all that much."
Hermione
It was a true crime documentary the played while Draco cooked, and she only pulled her attention away from it long enough to remind him of small things. She had her suspicions that he just hadn't added enough salt, or something just as simple the first time he'd cooked.
Not long after he banished her to the couch, he joined her. He held out a plate, and she eagerly sat up. A short bout of silence stretched between them as she took the first bite, and subsequent several after. "This is great." Hermione told him after swallowing.
He had a sour look on his face.
"Did yours not turn out very well?"
"No, it's fine." He replied. "I need to ask you for a favour, and I don't think you'll like it very much."
It was a ringing endorsement. "What is it?"
"My mother is throwing a birthday party for me this weekend, and if I attend without a date, one of her friends is going to attempt to play matchmaker with myself and her daughter."
Hermione covered her cough as well as she could. "You need me to be your date?"
"Yes." He said flatly. "Don't feel obligated."
"Is Astoria going to be there?" Hermione asked.
He chewed another bite before replying. "I can make certain that she's not, but no, she won't be invited."
Hermione drummed her finger against her chin. "Where does Narcissa and your father live?"
"Wiltshire."
She shrugged. "Sounds like fun. Sure, I'll be there. This means you'll owe me a favour though."
His lips split into a wide smile. "As many favours as you want, Granger."
On Draco's birthday, at 12:01 in the morning, Hermione was drunk. It was due to Harry and Ron inviting her to celebrate with the twins for a fantastic sales month. It's also the only reason that she couldn't think clearly.
The phone rang twice. "Hello?" His voice was clear, and she assumed that he was at work.
"Are you working?" Hermione only partially slurred her words. "A more apt question is whether or not you're busy."
There was a muffled laugh amidst the background noise of what she could assume was the cafeteria. "No, I'm not busy."
"Happy Birthday!" Hermione said it loudly, hurrying away from the bass that flooded the pub. "I'm sorry about the music. We're celebrating with Fred and George."
"Are you drunk?"
Stumbling outside the pub, she sat on the sidewalk. "Little bit."
"Sounds like more than a little bit." Draco laughed. "Thank you, you're the first one to tell me. Scorpius will be furious you got to me first."
She gasped, her hand comedically flying to her mouth. "Don't tell him then!"
"You don't him to be cross with you?" Draco asked. "You should know that he holds grudges, possibly until my next birthday."
Her stomach was flooded by the warmest sensation. She might not remember feeling it at all once she slept off her hangover, but the way he said his next birthday, as if they would still be speaking at all in a year caused her mouth to snap shut.
Hermione hasn't quite realised just how much she enjoyed his company, or the random texts that infinitely seemed to pass between them. They had gone to breakfast, they had gone to dinner, and they were on the cusp of something.
And she couldn't stand the thought of what might happen if she got her hopes up.
"Granger?"
She swallowed at his voice, the confusion of it. "I'm here. Sorry, but distracting outside this time of night. What are you doing for your birthday?"
There was the sound of what sounded like his cup meeting the table. "Nothing. I'm free to spend my day how I please since the party is this weekend. What are you doing today?"
"After I sleep, I'm going to volunteer at the animal shelter for the afternoon."
He made a "Hmm," sound. "Do you mind if I come?"
Her head popped up. "You want to? Shouldn't you do something you would like for your birthday?"
There was a long pause. "At the risk, and hope that you will forget this by the time you wake up, I think I'd like to spend my birthday with you if that's alright."
Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. Hermione found herself nodding, even if he couldn't see it. "I'd like that. Do you…" She trailer off. Did she really need to ask? "Do you not want me to remember what you said? Even if I did, I could pretend—"
"If you remember, let's have this conversation when you're sober."
"Did you know that drunk words are sober thoughts?"
Draco was probably tapping his fingers across the table, the same smirk he always had curling his lips. The imaginary image sent her heart into a flurry. "And do you have any drunk words to share, Hermione?"
Her name rolling off his tongue were like a caress.
This is flirting. They had been dancing around the other since he came to her office with lunch, or maybe it had been since the night in the hospital where she was crumbling. She didn't know anymore, couldn't clearly see where it had really begun.
"Just that I'd like to spend the day with you as well." Hermione breathed.
"Is that all?" He was teasing her, and she was furious that she was unable to see his face when he did so. Was he smiling? Was he on the verge of laughter?
"It's all for now." Hermione laugh was easy, just as easy as it had been for her to fall into a stranger's lap. "I'm leaving at noon. I'll pick you up?"
He agreed, and she found herself sitting on the sidewalk for the better part of the break he had, listening to a story about his hospital shift.
Draco
Being how he was, Draco was able to separate his thoughts when a forty-two year old step-father was rushed into the emergency room, bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound to his lower abdomen. Being who he was, his thoughts didn't stray to Hermione while he scrubbed in for surgery that he wasn't sure the man would survive.
And it was a thought that as sobering as it ever was. His life had been moving along, on it's own path, and going rather well he might add, but then someone else's had hit a wall.
The police were at the hospital, impatiently waiting for answers as they always were, but Katie took up the mantle of speaking to them. The man hadn't survived, and Draco removed his surgical gloves, discarding them in the biohazard waste. He could only catch muffled bits of the conversation through the double doors that stood between them.
"...died due to a gunshot injury." Katie said.
Draco swept out of the hospital before he could hear the rest of it.
She said noon. He knew that, but he couldn't help himself when his fingers hovered over the keyboard at 9:22 in the morning. Chewing his lower lip, and feeling several years younger, Draco hit send before he could debate it any longer.
To Hermione, 9:22 A.M.: Are you awake?
He laid his phone down on the counter. Not expecting a reply, he made breakfast. Ten minutes later found his mobile phone buzzing against the granite tabletop. The only one who video called him was typically his son, but it was Hermione's name that flashed across his screen instead. Draco leaned over the counter, swiping a finger across the screen.
Her room—he assumed—was dark, only her face showing from the light of her phone. "Hello?" She yawned, stretching an arm over her head. "What's up?"
Her nonchalance was refreshing. "Are you hungover?"
Her eyebrows rose. "No. I woke up an hour ago and took ibuprofen before going back to sleep. My stomach could be better, and I haven't turned on any lights yet."
He almost laughed, but instead the corner of his mouth twitched. "Do you have a pair of sunglasses?"
Hermione rolled onto her side, wrapping her blanket around her. "Honestly, what person doesn't own a pair of sunglasses? I think they're in my car."
"Grab them. Get dressed."
Her eyes flew open, and he thought for a second that she didn't remember the long conversation from the night before. Surely not however since a wide smile spread across her face. "What time is it?"
"Half past nine."
"That's a long time before we leave for the shelter. What do you want to do?"
"I don't care. Anything," Draco replied. "It's not a great day."
Her lips were tugged down by a sharp frown. "I'll be ready in fifteen minutes. I know what we can do."
She hung up before he could learn exactly what that was.
The drive to her flat wasn't a long one, and he let his car idle at the curb after sending a text to tell her he was waiting.
Draco didn't mean to jump when someone tapped on his window. Hermione stood just there with a wide smile on her face. She pulled his door open. "Get in the passenger seat."
"Pardon?"
She crooked her finger, beckoning him out of the car. "Out of the car, Malfoy. I'm the only one who knows where we're going."
He stepped out of his car even as he argued with her. "You could just tell me where to go."
Hermione shook her head, dropping into his seat and pulling the seatbelt across her chest. "I could do that, but it would take all of the fun out of it." There was a muttered, "I wanted to drive your car also."
He huffed, shutting her door for her and striding around the car. As he fell into the passenger seat, one he didn't normally sit in, he looked to her. "You look nice."
Her cheeks grew pink, and she curled a finger in her hair, pulling her bangs down so she could hide behind them. "Thank you." Hermione swallowed. "If I wipe my makeup off, I'll look like a troll."
"A very nice troll." Draco laughed, elbowing her side as she pulled away from the curb. "Where are we going?"
She grinned, and he didn't think it was a good sign at all. "No idea." Hermione reached down, rummaging around in his console. "Alright, see this coin? Pick a number."
"Ninety seven."
Hermione choked on her laugh. "You should be glad you have a full tank of fuel, but you should probably plan on re-fuelling before the day is done. So for one side of this coin, we'll turn left, and for the other, we'll turn right. We will do this ninety-seven times."
"And then?"
"We can figure out what to do when we get there. In the meantime, flip the coin."
It was heads. Hermione took the turn, eventually making her way to a long stretch of road in thirteen flips. She pressed the gas pedal to the floor, and played music louder than he ever had, but he couldn't stop staring at her.
Draco hoped that the next turn wouldn't come too quickly, not when he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He mentioned that they might not make it back by noon, but she waved him off, claiming that she drove fast.
She certainly wasn't wrong.
Hermione eventually pulled over in the middle of the countryside long before they reached ninety-seven, but he didn't mind. She grabbed her bag that she'd thrown into the backseat, and headed up the grassy hill. "Coming?"
He followed, glad he'd worn joggers and trainers. Hermione settled at the top of the hill, unzipping her backpack. She pulled a blanket from it, spreading it across the grass. Plopping down on it, she pulled several reusable bags from it. "Hungry? I'm starving?"
Draco was in disbelief as he sat down. She'd packed lunch supplies in the fifteen minutes it had taken to reach her. "Yeah, I haven't eaten."
"Since I haven't told you while I'm sober, happy birthday." Hermione pulled bread from one bag, balancing two slices on her knee. "How is your birthday so far? Feel any older?"
He was torn between asking her if she remembered what she'd said while drunk, or letting the truth spill out. It was unsurprising to him which he chose. "It's not been a great start."
She prepared her sandwich while barely pulling her gaze away from him. Hermione waited patiently for whether he wanted to discuss it or not.
Astoria would have asked already, would have asked him why the patient had died. She would have spotted the decline in his mood from far away, and she would have asked if it was his fault. When he it wasn't, Tori would have said that he would get past it, but didn't offer any support towards the end of their marriage.
It wasn't fair to compare the two women, but he found himself doing it more and more as of late.
"I lost a patient in surgery this morning."
Her lips parted, and he wished he wasn't so focused on the pretty bow of them rather than the way her face crumbled. "I'm so sorry."
"It wasn't my fault." Draco murmured.
Hermione rested her hand on his, swiping her thumb across his knuckles. Like he'd done with her in her office. "I know it's not your fault. I'm sure that you did everything you could to save him, but I can only imagine how you feel."
"I still feel guilty." He admitted. "Rationally, I know that I've done everything I could, and there was nothing to be done." Draco took a sandwich from her. "We don't have to talk about this, but it's why I asked if you were awake." There. Honesty. "You've got an uncanny ability to make others feel better."
Her lips curved from behind her sandwich. "Still, I'm so sorry. I'm even more sorry I've dragged you into the middle of the countryside while you probably just wanted to have breakfast and a chat."
He laid on his side, propping up his head with one hand. "This is breakfast and a chat. Even if we are an hour away from home."
She laughed, and he strived to be able to hear it over and over again.
Hermione
The memory of the night before was dizzying, even more so after she had spent an entire morning with him. In the middle of their drive back to London, Scorpius called to wish his father a happy birthday. While Draco didn't tell her to be quiet, she saw Astoria's name flash across his screen, and she quickly decided that she wasn't looking to bring about another fight between the pair.
She drove in silence, rolling up the windows, and turning the music off.
"Happy Birthday, Daddy!" There were kissy noises as Scorpius was most likely pressing his face to the screen.
She muffled her laugh behind her hand, and she felt Draco sneak a glance at her.
Shortly after the brief conversation with Scorpius, another voice cut in, and Hermione's stomach sunk. "Happy Birthday, Draco." Her voice was nothing like Hermione expected, even though she didn't know what she'd been expecting.
"Thank you." Draco replied easily. "How are you?"
Astoria didn't return his pleasantries. "What theme is your party tomorrow?"
Hermione's fingers tightened on the wheel, and she didn't contain the look she shot toward Draco. She'd go either way. The idea of acting as Draco's date, false or not, was too enticing to give up. Even if Astoria did attend.
"Have you not spoken with my mother?" Draco drawled. "She typically gets to talk to you before I do. I'd appreciate it if you didn't attend the party."
The tense silence that followed was uncomfortably even for Hermione as she shifted in her seat.
"Tori," Draco began. "We've been divorced for several months now. You wouldn't invite me to your birthday party, would you?"
"You're bringing her, the woman that Scorpius talks about all the time."
Hermione's nails dug into the leather of the steering wheel.
"I am." Draco said. "I understand if you would like to meet her beforehand, and I assure you, she understands as well."
Seconds ticked by. "Put her on the phone, a voice call will suffice."
Hermione didn't stop to ponder how Astoria had known she was there.
He looked to her, and Hermione nodded. Placing it on speaker, knowing Draco would want to listen, Hermione considered herself lucky when her voice didn't crack. "Hello?"
"Hello, this is Scorpius' mother, Astoria. And you are...?"
"Hermione." Trees blurred together as she passed them, and her stomach twisted. "My last name is Granger."
"What do you do?" Her tone was clipped.
"I work as Editor in Chief for the Quibbler magazine. My photograph is on their website if you need to see what I look like."
"Oh," she laughed, but it was clearly cruel. "Scorpius has already told me all about you. Mousy brown hair, and unruly curls, yes?"
Somehow, Hermione doubted that Scorpius had said much of her appearance at all. "Are we going to resort to insults already? I thought it would take a while before we got to that." Hermione's voice was hard, and she wanted nothing more than to place herself in front of this woman.
Draco's hand rested on her upper thigh, firm and reassuring. Also terribly distracting.
"Have you been around children much?"
"I don't have any myself, but yes."
"Have you ever been married?"
Hermione glared at the phone. "I'm not sure how that's any of your business at all." Hermione said. "Your son is a very sweet little boy, and I don't want to cause problems between his parents."
There was only breathing for a moment. "Would you take a bit of advice?" Astoria didn't leave any time for her to reply. "Draco is a romantic man at first, but he's cynical. His career dominates his life, and his time spent with family. If you're smart—"
"I'm not sure you were ever married to the man beside me at all, but of course his career dominates his life. He's a surgeon, one that has been on call since I met him. If you chose to only see his dedication to his job as a lack of dedication to you, or to Scorpius, that's your fault. I'd appreciate you not give me any sort of advice on my relationship with him, whether platonic, or romantic, since you clearly have never cared about his emotions at all."
Draco's mouth fell open.
"Who do you think—"
"I know that you're a woman who lost a wonderful husband so you could sleep with his best friend. I think I've talked to you enough, but if you'd ever like to have a civil conversation, feel free to arrange a call with my office." Hermione hung up on Astoria while she was mid-sentence. She let the phone fall into her lap. "I think I'm going to be sick."
He was still staring at her in awe. "I could snog you senseless right now."
Her toes curled in her shoes. "I could pull over," Hermione joked.
She was absolutely serious until someone laid on their horn behind her. "Later." Draco rumbled.
Hermione thought about asking if it was a promise.
Rather than butterflies, it felt as if hornets had been set loose in the pit of her stomach. Hermione caught herself stealing glances at Draco more often than not, committing his jaw line to memory, wondering how his barely there stubble would feel beneath her fingertips. And sometimes, she caught him staring at her too. It was too much, a sensory overload that she couldn't escape from, but wasn't sure if she truly wanted to.
By the time they were back in London, Scorpius had typed a message to Draco to say hello to Hermione. She was surprised that Astoria had let him do so, if she even knew at all. While mildly upset he didn't get the chance to say hello, Draco promised his son that he would be seeing her the very next day.
The subtle reminder of his party triggered her next question as she drove to the animal shelter. "Is there a theme to your birthday party that I should be aware of?"
He ran his hand down his face, eyes falling on her. "The dress you wore for your photograph on the Quibbler's website, do you still have it?"
She did, but that wasn't the part of the sentence she latched onto. "You've looked up my photo?"
Hermione was treated to a rare, and adorable sight of pink rising to his cheeks. "My mother sent it to me a few weeks ago. I think it was an attempt to push me to…"
He didn't need to finish the sentence as a fresh nest of hornets broke loose within her stomach. "Right. Well, I have a better dress than that. I'm just worried I'll be overdressed."
Draco shook his head. "You won't be, but send me a picture of it if that will make you feel better."
Hermione turned his car off, handing him the keys. "It's really loud inside." She stepped out of the car, making her way up the sidewalk before letting herself in through the front entrance. "Hagrid?"
The man appeared just around the corner, a wide smile across his face. "Hermione!" He wrapped her up into a big hug, lifting her off her feet. "Oh, you've brought someone!" He bustled forward to shake Draco's hand. "Name's Hagrid."
"Draco," he replied. "Are you Fluffy's owner, or is that a different Hagrid?"
She heard the tap tap of nails against the tile before a familiar squishy face slid around the corner. "That's Fluffy." Hermione laughed. She crouched down, holding her arms out. Fluffy flew at her, knocking her down before licking a long stripe up the side of her face. She scratched behind his ears as she pulled herself out from under the dog. "He's not fully grown yet as you can tell, but he's already getting big."
Draco knelt down, holding a hand out toward Fluffy. Surprise covered his face when Fluffy immediately took a liking to him. "He's beautiful."
"Thank ya!" Hagrid boomed. "We've got a lot of dogs to walk today, Hermione. Which do you think would be the best fit for Draco?"
Hermione tapped a finger against her chin. "Cerberus."
While Hermione held the leash to a gentle Great Dane named Achilles—she had named him—Draco was still holding the Cerberus' leash taught. The St Bernard refused to move. "You know you're supposed to walk the dogs when we go for walks?" Hermione called.
Draco shot her an exasperated look. "I don't think he wants to walk."
"He needs the exercise. You just have to convince him."
He was running low of the small carton of treats that Hagrid has tossed him. Coaxing Cerberus clearly wasn't working. "Does he normally walk with you?"
"He likes Hagrid best, but he'll come to me."
"I don't believe you."
She sniggered, an idea already forming in her mind. "You don't? Well, I suppose I can show you. Achilles, let's go." Hermione took off at a sprint, glancing over her shoulder before yelling, "Cerberus!"
The dog took off, and Draco was forced into a run to keep up. "You did this on purpose!" He skidded to a stop in front of Hermione as Cerberus stood on his hind legs.
Paws landed on her shoulders. "Give me his leash. I'll walk him, and you can walk Achilles."
Draco
Seven hours was all that separated him from seeing Hermione, and driving to Wiltshire. He knew down to the minute because he'd had time while laying in bed to count. To his surprise, Astoria hadn't called him again after her argument with Hermione.
The argument. He replayed it in his mind over and over again. Draco wasn't sure that anyone had ever defended him so fiercely.
His phone vibrated against the small table beside his bed. Lazily reaching up, he held it over his head. Hermione, it read. Perhaps she had come to her senses, and this was a message to tell him she wouldn't be meeting im in the morning after all.
It was anything but that. He opened the message to find a picture waiting for him. She posed in front of a long mirror, presumably in her bedroom, with a slender arm tossed in the air. Wearing a wide grin, and kicking a leg out, Hermione wore a strapless navy blue dress. Draco's gaze raked up her figure several times before he noticed the black pumps she wore.
From Hermione, 12:09 A.M.: Should I wear this, or the one from my headshot?
To Hermione, 12:10 A.M.: You look stunning.
To Hermione, 12:11 A.M.: Wear that one.
She was cheeky enough to send him an emoji that had it's tongue out.
Draco knew she wouldn't sleep for another hour. He glanced at the picture again, remembering how he'd said he'd snog her senseless earlier in the day.
He considered knocking on her front door to do exactly that, but ruled against it. Tomorrow, he thought.
Hermione
Finishing her makeup with a swipe of mascara, and stepping into her heels, Hermione hurried out of her flat. Her stomach was in knots. While she'd flippantly said that the trip sounded like fun, now that the day was here, she was on edge.
Draco was leaned against his car as it idled, hands slipping into the pockets of his suit trousers.
Breath catching in her throat, Hermione let out a strangled, "Good morning."
He smirked as he cocked his head to the side. "It's not too late to back out."
She put her hands on her hips, and shook her head. "No, I said I was going so I'm going. I've only met Narcissa and your son is all. I'm a little… worried."
He opened the door for her, and she noticed that his eyes lingered on the open back of her dress for longer than necessary. "You'll meet Pansy, and you probably won't like her. She's not particularly pleasant, but at the risk of overestimating my own importance, she's been trying to secure a date with me since shortly after my divorce."
Her mouth fell open. "I know you said her mother was playing matchmaker, but I thought you were mostly kidding. And right after your divorce? That's terrible."
Draco closed her door while laughing. Taking large strides, he walked around the car before sliding into his own seat. "It's ridiculous is what it is. I've never shown any interest in dating since Astoria and I split, but Pansy isn't the type to take no for an answer."
Hermione cringed. "So, I ought to play it up that I'm madly in love with you then?" She feigned a laugh, a rather awkward one, but her anxiety lessened at his smile.
"I certainly won't complain if you do."
Given the unsteady beat of her heart, Hermione wasn't all that certain she would make it through the day without just asking what they were doing.
Halfway through the drive, inspiration struck Hermione right in the head. With a muffled gasp, she unbuckled herself and rummaged through his backseat.
"What are you doing?" His amusement was barely contained, but she wasn't pressed to care.
"I'm looking for a piece of paper. I have an idea, but I'll forget it if I don't write it down." Hermione muttered. Her position was made even worse as he hit a bump in the road, causing her to nearly fall on her face, but also caused her arse to be higher in the air. How fucking mortifying.
"There's a briefcase in the backseat. There's a portfolio inside of it that you can use. Plenty of paper for you to write a whole novel if you'd like."
She grabbed it, flicking the tabs at the top open. Nestled inside was the leather portfolio, and she quickly grabbed it before settling back into her seat. "Shite, I need a pen."
Draco held one out to her, clearly already prepared. "Can I make a request?"
Hermione lifted her head. "What is it?"
"Don't kill this one, yeah?" His smile was wide, and her gaze lifted to his eyes. They were full of mirth.
Hermione swallowed, clicking the top of the pen. "I don't think I will this time."
"What's the idea?"
"I can't tell you that." Trees passed them by as she flipped to a blank page. "It's just a love story." Hermione admitted.
From the side of her eye, she saw his fingers tighten on the wheel. "It's not just anything." Draco said clearly.
It struck her with how he said it, like it was something she should have believed all along. She tapped her fingers against the page. "Okay." Hermione whispered.
And for the rest of the trip, the only sound was the scratching of her pen across the page.
Draco
With how small her writing was, it was impossible to sneak peeks of what she was writing. He shouldn't have been looking anyway. Hermione would show him if she liked, but it didn't stop Draco from craning his head to the side as she wrote at an angle.
She closed the portfolio as he turned onto the drive that led to his former home. Trees lined up either side, all of them in full bloom.
Hermione began fidgeting in her seat almost immediately. "If you wanted to leave, I'd turn around right now." Draco said.
Stubborn as she always was, she shook her head. "No, it's just bigger than I expected."
His answering chuckle was one of equal parts humour and admiration.
"Right, so, avoid Pansy. Anyone else I should know about?"
Draco was about to tell her that his father wasn't the kindest, and he was still hoping Draco would come back to Astoria, but he didn't get the chance. Oxygen left his lungs. He wasn't angry, or maybe he was, but it was only anger that spread through him, not jealousy. "Stay in the car."
Hermione's head snapped up as he yanked the gear shift into park in the middle of the large circle drive. "Draco?"
"Theo's here." He deadpanned. "I have no idea why, but he's pulling Scorpius out of his car right now." Draco watched her rather than Theo, and saw when her eyes fell on his former friend.
Her eyebrows drew together. "Fuck that, you stay in the car. You shouldn't have to deal with him. Clearly, Astoria sent him to drop Scorpius off in an attempt to cut you a little deeper." Hermione stepped out of the car before he could say a word.
Draco ripped his keys from the ignition and followed her across the drive.
When Scorpius saw Hermione, he wiggled in Theo's arms, and yelled, "'Mione!" In the same moment he was set on his feet, he sprinted to Hermione, allowing her to pick him up and balance him on her hip.
Draco was not long behind her, and Theo flinched as he glared at him.
"I think we should go find your grandmum." Hermione whispered to Scorp, before looking back to Draco. "Is that alright?"
"Quite," he said through clenched teeth. "She'll be waiting just inside the entryway." Draco waited for the crunch of gravel below her feet before meeting Theo's eye. "Why are you here?"
"Tori left for the weekend."
Before he could finish the sentence, Draco hissed, "Shouldn't you be joining her then?"
Theo ran a hand down his face. "I deserve that, but we don't have—we're not involved."
"Did the fun wear off once you were caught? There's no reason for you to be with my son, not one." Draco took a menacing, barely noticeable step forward.
Theo didn't move away. "She left for the weekend, and called me. Astoria said that Narcissa couldn't make it, so I did it as a favour."
"Do a lot of favours for my ex-wife, Theo?" Draco snarled. "Tell me, does that sound anything like my mother? Once again, you're just a pawn for Tori to use however she pleases."
Theo's eyes narrowed. "Are you not doing the same thing with the bird you brought?"
If Draco didn't make his way inside soon, he was almost certain that Hermione would find her back to him. "No, Hermione is a friend."
"Not your type either." Theo kicked a rock to the side.
Draco scoffed. "You'll find that I'm thrilled to enjoy someone who isn't your type."
There it was, all of it, and he knew Theo was likely to say something that left a bad taste in his mouth.
"Your mother is looking for you. I bought as much time as I could, but she's on her way." Hermione stepped between the two of them, her back to Theo. "Also, you were right. Pansy isn't pleasant at all."
Theo tapped her shoulder, and she turned to look at him. "Yes?" Hermione asked, her voice hard.
Without thinking, Draco traced her spine, fingers sliding along her bare skin. "Hermione, this is Theo. Theo, this is Hermione."
He extended a hand, and she didn't take it. "How did the two of you meet?"
She shivered under Draco's touch. "Surely you're not going to stand here while you pretend you care. I know exactly who you are." Hermione turned away from Theo, lacing her fingers through Draco's, urging him away. "Come on, then. During the five minutes I was inside, I was trapped in two conversations about stocks that I know absolutely zero about."
"Was one of those conversations with my father?"
She paused, almost tripping over nothing. "I think so, actually. I may have cut him off to make a quick escape to rescue you."
They passed a portrait of his great-grandfather. "You rescued me?"
Hermione shrugged. "What would you do without me? Seemed like you needed it."
Draco leaned down, in clear view of Pansy who stood across the hall, and whispered into Hermione's ear. "My hero."
She sniggered into her palm. "As a thank you, you can be sure to not leave me alone with anyone else, yes?"
His fingers tightened around hers. "I'll do my best."
Hermione
She didn't mind that Pansy Parkinson stared at her across the room as if she wanted to disembowel her. It was unsettling, but Hermione could look past it.
Draco stayed at her side, ever the doting date—pretend or not—that he was. Scorpius stayed close to them, unless there was the chance to get cake, which was often.
Still, Hermione could feel someone staring at her the second Draco broke away from her to grab drinks. His son stood at her side, small fingers hooked through hers.
"'Mione, can we dance?"
She peeled down at Scorpius, unable to say no. Hermione knelt down, holding her arms out. "Would you like me to pick you up?"
For a moment, she thought that he would insist that he wanted to lead. He held his arms up, grinning as she swung him up. Settling him on her hip, Hermione took one of his hands and let the other rest on her shoulder.
"Do you like it here?" Scorpius asked.
She slowly danced around the floor, in a circle that belonged to her. "I do. I've had a lot of fun. What about you?"
"The cake is my favourite part."
She sniggered. "Yeah? It's good cake. Why don't you tell me about your week?"
Scorpius was babbling before she even finished the sentence. "Miss McGonagall put me in a time-out earlier this week butit wasn't my fault that Lucy bit me."
She quirked an eyebrow. "What did you do to Lucy?"
He looked away, his cheeks growing pink. "I—uh—bit her back."
Hermione shouldn't have laughed, but she did. "That's not very nice," she somehow managed. "What else?"
"Mummy let me spend five pounds in the candy aisle."
Her dentist parents would have been horrified, but Hermione liked to think of a much more pleasant Astoria. One who took her son for candy. "Have you eaten it all?"
Scorpius opened his suit jacket—which suffice to say, the fact that he was wearing a tiny tailored suit threatened to make her heart burst—and pulled a small, wrapped sweet from the inner pocket. "I nicked some."
She took the candy, popping it into her mouth while dancing toward the nearest rubbish bin. Scorpius wiggled against her, throwing his hands in the air while mouthing the words, the wrong words, to the song that played.
Someone tapped on her shoulder, and there was a clearing of their throat. She knew it wasn't Draco. He would have slipped his arm around her waist, or ruffled Scorpius' hair. While they had only been at the party for an hour, he'd fallen into an easy pattern with her—that being that he could hardly keep his hands off of her, even with the most innocent of touches.
Hermione turned, coming face to face with Lucius Malfoy.
The man was intimidating, from his expensive leather shoes to the well tailored suit that he wore. Not only that, but Hermione knew within minutes of meeting that he didn't seem to like her. "Miss Granger," Lucius greeted. He looked at her as if there was a bad smell just below his nose.
Hermione smiled, shifting Scorpius. At least the man couldn't be too foul while she was holding his grandson. "Hello, Mr Malfoy."
Lucius leaned forward, brushing the long strands of hair from Scorpius' hair from his eyes. "Scorpius, would you go tell your father it's rude to keep his date waiting? He's just over there."
Her eyes followed his finger. Draco stood beside a table, holding two champagne flutes as he chatted with another man. And in the corner of the room, Pansy wasn't conspicuous with her staring. Hermione lowered Scorpius to the ground, watching as he rushed for his father.
"Would you care to dance?"
If it were possible for her blood to run cold, it would have. Anxiety coiled quickly in her stomach. No, she didn't care to dance at all. "Yes." Hermione lied through her teeth and allowed him to lead her onto the floor alongside other couples. "You have a beautiful home."
His smile was false, nothing like his son's. "Thank you. Cissa takes pride in our home, and appearances." Was he insulting her? His tone led her to believe so.
Ask him if his wife has to dress him too. Hermione pushed her snarkiness aside. "She's done an incredible job." Next she would be asking him what he thought of the weather, or maybe it would take an even worse turn since it was so obvious he disliked her.
"Cissa tells me that you're an editor?"
She nodded. "Editor in Chief for Quibbler magazine."
"Isn't that a gossip rag?" Lucius sneered.
Hermione rolled her eyes before she could stop herself. "There are several different columns the magazine covers, but yes, gossip is one of them. I don't care much for it." Over Lucius' shoulder, Hermione caught Draco's eye.
She couldn't mouth anything to Draco as she was spun away. "If you don't care for it, why do you waste your time with it?"
Hermione untangled herself from him, dropping her hands to her sides long before the song ended. Cutting the dance short herself, Hermione lifted her chin. Lucius glared at her, but she didn't shrink away beneath the hard stare. "I don't think I have to explain anything to you."
Excusing herself, she made her way from the room, and out of a set of double glass doors that led into a courtyard. Hermione counted the lantern style lights as she walked down the path, balling her hands into fists in front of her, where no one could see.
"Hermione!" Draco caught up to her, his fingers slowly catching her at the elbow. "I'm sorry. What did he say to you?"
She swallowed. "Nothing terrible. I doubt we'll never be friends, but it's fine."
He shook his head, hands sliding up her arms. "No, it's not fine. I'd march back in there myself—"
"I'm a big girl. I can take up for myself." Hermione grinned, her hands raising to rest on his forearms. "He lured me into a conversation about my position with The Quibbler before asking me why I would waste my time with a gossip rag."
Draco's breath caught in his throat. "He's a bastard. I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"He asked me why I would waste my time as a surgeon." Draco murmured. He'd stepped closer to her, reaching up and allowing his knuckles to skim her cheekbone. "He's impossible to please, but he had no right."
Hermione glared at the neatly trimmed hedges beside them before asking what she felt like asking. "Was he this critical of Astoria? Or is this because I'm not her?"
She didn't expect for his face to crumble. Draco appeared to be absolutely crestfallen. "Hermione, I'm so sorry," he murmured. "I won't lie to you. While my mother has let go of the foolish hope that I'll return to Astoria, he hasn't. Her family is of old money, and he cares about appearances."
She stared at her heels. "He mentioned something about appearances. It seemed to me that I don't fit that mold. Which—" Hermione broke off, ready to let loose a string of profanities when her eyes stung. "I don't know why I'm so upset anyway. After all, I'm only your fake date to avoid a vapid woman who looks like she wants to shag you on the dance floor and—"
Draco knelt down, leaning his forehead against hers. "Come on, Hermione, you know that none of this is fake."
Her gasp was quiet, surely barely there, but still he caught it. "You know, I wouldn't want to assume."
He chuckled. "Assume all you like." Draco twisted a tamed curl around his finger. "I knew when I asked you for this that it wasn't so you could be my fake date. Just like I knew when I called you on the morning of my birthday that it wasn't because I only wanted to be friends."
Heart rattling in her rib cage, she nodded. "I think we've been dancing around this for a while." Her fingers knotted in the fabric of his suit. "Normally I wouldn't believe in this sort of thing, meeting in a coffee shop, and…"
"And what?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I think that's what comes next. How do you feel about finding that part out?"
"You're so ridiculous," Draco snorted. "It's endearing how awkward you can be, but then you're so forward. For the record, I didn't believe in dating at all after my divorce."
It was a worry that passed her mind more frequently as of late. "If this is moving too fast, I'd understand. It wouldn't upset me."
He shook his head. "I don't want to slow down."
He's romantic. Hermione remembered Astoria's words, and as the seconds slowly crept past them, she couldn't imagine how the woman had sabotaged her own marriage. "I like how it is with you, like everything's just falling into place. It's almost comical."
He arched a pale brow. "Care to elaborate?"
She peeked over his shoulder. "Not particularly, but you might like to know that Pansy is spying on us. Maybe she's waiting for us to drop the facade." Hermione's voice was more bitter than she meant for it to be.
Draco's eyes dropped to her lips, and then his fingers were in her hair. Her lips were pliant beneath his as he slowly kissed her.
Hermione gathered his suit jacket into her fists, tugging him closer as his tongue traced the seam of her lips. "She's gone." Hermione gasped.
"Not the only reason I kissed you." He growled. "I can't keep my fucking hands off of you." His large hands skimmed her waist as she took a step backward.
"Wait!" Hermione shrieked as she lost her balance. She groaned as he landed beside her, laughing as their legs were tangled together. "I'm sorry."
His arm hooked around her waist once more. "Don't be. You look ravishing with twigs in your hair."
Hermione laughed into his shoulder. "God, if someone looks out here, all they'll see is our legs, and they'll think…"
Draco kissed her again, draping her across his chest behind a bush in the middle of a courtyard before she could think about anything else.
What did you think? I'd love to hear anything you thought. Thank you for reading and I'll see you next month!