This was a request on tumblr for a post epilogue, fluffy drabble where Hermione and Draco get together. I'm unsure of how good the fluff is, but here we are.

It starts in a coffee shop that opens on a corner in Diagon Alley in the middle of October. Hermione's constantly busy, and she takes her coffee to go each morning. Formerly a devout drinker, she's changed her ways a bit since Arthur gifted her a muggle coffee machine during the last family Christmas.

The last family Christmas you're likely to ever spend with the Weasleys.

Her mind is traitorous, and she elects to push the thought from her mind. Her divorce has been finalised for months, and while Molly will never be pleased about it—the witch didn't believe in divorce—that doesn't matter to Hermione at all.

She prattles off her order while staring at the menu overhead, eyes skimming the new seasonal selections. But then she glances down, and her eyes widen a fraction. "Scorpius?"

The blond grins and takes her money. "It's nice to see you, Mrs Weasley."

Hermione internally flinches at the name, but that's how it goes, for the most part, these days. There's so many witches and wizards who look down at her, whispering that it's going to hurt her ability to run for Minister, that the name should roll off her back now. But it doesn't.

"When did you start working here?" Hermione asks politely, and machines behind him whir to life.

"Today's my first day on the register. Dad says I should get a job to appreciate money more."

She's taken aback, not because she pretends to know Draco Malfoy in any capacity, but it's such a sound statement that she finds herself agreeing with the man. Hermione laughs. "I see. Any particular reason he wanted you to learn that?"

Scorpius' eyes lighten as he scratches the back of his neck. "Oh, well, I might have spent more money than I should have to take a girl on a date."

She lifts an eyebrow, and her question remains unspoken.

"Just," his voice cracks, "two hundred galleons."

Hermione chokes, her eyes shooting open. "I imagine it must have been a very nice date." She says. It's not her place to pass judgment on someone who's not her child. "I can only imagine how he reacted."

"Yeah." Scorpius clicks his tongue. "It wasn't that nice of a date. I took her to a muggle carnival she wanted to go to and lost all of my—Dad's—money trying to win a stuffed animal."

"Oh," she laughs softly, taking her drink from him. "Those are rigged. You never stood a chance."

He glowers at her. "I'll keep that in mind next time. Have a good day."

She hears him ask the next customer how she can help them.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Scorpius is behind the counter the next time she visits the shop, and greets her with an excited wave as he helps someone else. Hermione doesn't know why Malfoy's son is so eager to catch her eye when she hardly knows him—beyond an attempted relationship with Rose in the year previously, which Hermione thought was going to work out.

But it was one of the things that Ron had ruined with his intense dislike of Slytherin. Still, Rose and Scorpius remained good friends, but it's not to say Hermione sees him often.

As she lingers in line, someone bumps into her, and there's a muttered apology that's a low rasp, and she's already apologising herself and—

"Granger?"

Her head snaps up, and she recognises Malfoy instantly. His eyes are hardly widened, but she can tell he's just as surprised to see her as she is to see him. Hermione swallows as he looks her up and down, and then does it again once more, and it takes a full ten seconds before she can muster anything to say. "Did you come to visit your son?"

While most of their classmates have let themselves go, Malfoy is certainly no in that category. Wearing a well tailoured suit, he adjusts his the knot at his throat, and Hermione can see he's done well to take care of himself. There's a throb in his throat before he answers her. "Yes, actually."

She nods. When the question had popped out of her mouth, she hadn't considered what she'd say next. Hermione and Malfoy aren't on bad terms, not by a long shot when their children were attached at the hip during the term, but they're not friends.

"Hermione, the usual?" Scorpius calls, leaning on the counter.

"Yes, please."

Malfoy arches an eyebrow. "You have a usual?"

Hermione shifts her weight, and it feels like everyone in the coffee shop is staring at them. But there's hardly anyone there now, and it's all in her head. This isn't like her to be affected by someone just because they were physically attractive, but it's been a long time since anyone has looked at her that her mind comically shorts out.

"I drink a lot of coffee." Hermione laughs. "Probably too much if I'm honest, but it keeps me going." It's too much information, she thinks and she regrets it immediately.

"I was sorry to hear about you and Weasley," Malfoy says softly as they step to the side, making way for the next customer.

Hermione's just grateful he doesn't say the word divorce because she's heard it enough recently. "Were you?" She asks, and she's not sure why at all.

He chuckles, half-way leaning against the counter while sliding his hands into his trouser pockets. "I suppose not. He's still kind of a tosser."

She can agree with that. "Right on the nose."

He pays for her drinks as Scorpius hands it to her, and the look between father and son does not go unnoticed.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Draco asks when Scorpius is out of earshot, and Hermione's cup freezes just as it brushed her lips.

"I—Pardon?" She breathes.

Malfoy's smirking, and a shiver unfurls on her spine. "I asked if you were seeing anyone. It's a yes or no question, but if you need some time to get back to me…"

"No," Hermione blurts. "I'm not seeing anyone."

His smile is barely there, but the corner of his mouth twitches. "Would you like to get coffee sometime?"

Hermione gives a short laugh as she looks around them. "Well," she drawls. "We're already in a coffee shop, so how about right now? If you're not in a hurry?"

"Maybe one where my son isn't watching me," Draco suggests, and points over her shoulder.

Scorpius is standing there, holding a piece of parchment with a scribbled: I told you so.

"There's a cafe down the street?" Hermione offers, readjusting her bag. "Or if another day would work better for you…"

As he takes her hand without hesitation and leads her down the street, Hermione has the thought that perhaps things fall apart for other things to fall into place.

It's oddly whimsical for her.

But then again, Draco Malfoy is holding her hand and running his thumb along her knuckles so anything is possible.