Hermione was completely shocked. She had no idea what she was going to say. She didn't want to go to dinner with Draco because of their past, and it would be really awkward for the two of them to have dinner together. On the other hand, she was starving and was in no mood to eat alone.

Her silence must have shocked him, since about a minute later he said, "Unless you don't want to. That's fine. I'll just eat by myself if you don't want to eat with me."

She shook her head. This was crazy. Ron used to always pick the toppings on their pizza because she was always indecisive. How was she supposed to give this man an answer in the next few seconds?

Save dignity and stay hungry? Or risk being humiliated by former nemesis and eat possibly amazing food?

Food always wins.

She sighed loudly into the phone. "I suppose I am feeling a little hungry. I could have a quick meal with you. I'll meet you there in thirty minutes."

"No need, Granger, I'll have a car sent for you in ten minutes. Don't worry about getting ready on time, it doesn't matter if the car waits. Where do you live?"

She was taken aback by the question. She really had no choice but to tell him, so she did.

"Excellent," Draco said. "I'll see you later then."

"Wait! How am I supposed to dress?" she asked.

"What are you talking about? Why do I care how you dress? It isn't my business which leg you put in your pants first," he said, arrogantly.

She rolled her eyes and refrained from cursing him. This man was impossible. "No, I mean what clothes do I wear? Dress? Pants?"

"Ah, I see. Well, just look appropriate," was all Draco said before hanging up.

Some nerve, she thought.

She shook her head and went upstairs to change. As she was rummaging through her closet, she was still confused as to what to wear. She didn't want to wear a fancy dress to a formal restaurant, and she didn't want to look to laid-back at a formal restaurant.

Hermione pulled out a pair of denim jeans from a rack. She supposed jeans were good for all kinds of events. After she slid those on, she had to pick out the top. She looked for something that was fancy, but looked casual at the same time.

There was a semi-transparent fuchsia pink blouse hanging on a hanger, so she put on a black tank top before buttoning it on, brushed her hair one last time, and went downstairs.

It took her ten minutes to get ready, so the limousine should be at her house soon.

As her foot hit the last step on the stairs, the doorbell rang. Hermione took one last look at herself in the mirror on the wall beside the front door before opening it.

"Ms. Granger?" the man at the door said gently. He was elderly, maybe a little over 60 years old. He wore a crisp, black suit and wore silver circle glasses that matched his balding silver hair. "Are you ready to leave? Mr. Malfoy is waiting."

She smiled and picked up her purse. Although it was cold, it wasn't cold enough for her winter jacket, so she picked up a lighter coat before walking towards the limo.

The man in the suit held the door open for her, and she smiled to hi as she stepped inside. He closed the door behind her and walked to the driver's seat in front of her.

The ride was silent, which Hermione actually preferred because it would have been awkward for her to make conversation with Draco Malfoy's butler. Driver. Whatever. It would have been weird.

After 15 minutes, the car came to a complete stop and the driver (butler, whatever) stepped out of the car and over to Hermione to open the door for her. She thanked him as she stepped out and walked toward the front doors of the restaurant.

The building was bigger than she imagined. In front of her was a podium meant for the hostesses, and behind that podium were tables and booths, each with deep purple tablecloths and shiny silverware. The room was dimly lit, with the only light sources being a large chandelier hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room, light fixtures spread out every ten feet along the wall, and candles in the middle of every table and booth.

Everything just looked fancy yet easy-going to her, and she was now happy with her choice of clothing.

A hostess at the front asked Hermione if she had made a reservation. Hermione said no, and that she was there to meet a friend. The hostess seemed to know who she was referring to, so she led Hermione to a booth near the back.

Draco was sitting there, facing her as she walked towards him. The hostess gestured for Hermione to sit and told the pair that a waitress would be coming by shortly to take their orders.

As she sat down and took her coat off, she could feel his eyes watching her every move. She stared at the floor and tried not to look him in the eye. Looking at the menu, she still feel him looking at her over the top of his menu, so she tried to look busy and stared intensely at the menu items. Alfredo pasta sounds amazing right about now.

"So," laughed Draco, "what brings you out this evening?"

Hermione looked at him incredulously and said, "You called me out tonight, remember?"

He continued chuckling. "Yes, but that didn't mean you had to accept my offer. I would have taken a no, only you said yes. Why is that?"

She was taken aback. Why had she gone out to dinner with him tonight? She easily could have said no and gone to get fast food by herself, and yet here she was at an almost-fancy restaurant with the infamous Draco Malfoy. Maybe she didn't want to eat alone?

"I, erm, didn't want you to eat alone is all. I felt bad that you might have no one to eat dinner with, and since I was about to eat alone, I thought I might as well join you," Hermione finally said, with her head up high. She ignored is amused expression and went back to looking at the menu.

Finally, a waitress came, introducing herself as Mae and asking for their drinks. When Hermione tried to order a glass of water, Draco interrupted her, ordering some white wine for the both of them instead. She tried to glare at him when the waitress left, but he was too busy looking for something to eat. Somewhat defeated, she looked back down at the menu as well.

"So why did you call me out tonight, anyway? I'm sure an important man like you has other business to attend to, and perhaps better people to have dinner with," she said, trying to break the silence.

Putting his menu down, Draco replied, "Why is it so weird that I asked you out here? I've known you for more than ten years now, and we've had dinner together at school. Why is it weird for me to want your company and not, oh I don't know, Lewis?"

Hermione was shocked. She couldn't believe this guy. "First of all, dinner at Hogwarts didn't count, seeing as you were crowds of people away from me, and I also loathed you at the time. And how did you know about my meal with Lewis? I didn't think you two were close."

He chuckled again. That chuckle of his will be the death of me. Wait, what am I even saying? "I like to think it counts," he said with a smile. "And Lewis just so happens to be one of my good friends, nothing much really."

"Well if you two are that close, why did he tell you about his plans with me? I'm close with Harry and I didn't tell him about this."

"Technically, he didn't tell me; I happened to be less than a foot away from him when he called you earlier today. Shame you didn't pick up, because he asked another coworker, Cecelia, twenty minutes later."

Huh. She so was right. There was another girl.

Despite having just met the guy and not knowing him all too well, Hermione was hurt. For some reason, she felt as though he had played her, even though the matter was nothing that serious. Still, he could have let her know that he made other plans earlier than he did.

"May I take your order?" the waitress asked as she set down the bottle of wine and two wine glasses.

Draco ordered an unpronounceable dish in a European language Hermione did not recognize, though it sounded like it could be pasta. Meanwhile, she ordered pasta.

When the waitress left, Draco immediately went to opening the bottle and pouring each of them a glass. She had to admit, she was surprised by his chilvalry. She had never seen him this nice towards anyone other than his family, especially not towards someone who is:

A woman

A mudblood and

An enemy

She politely accepted the glass he slid towards her, then raised her glass to mirror his movements.

"A toast," he said, "to changing the past."

She didn't really understand what he meant, but instead of questioning him on it, she squinted her eyes in suspicion and clanked her glass against his and took a drink from her wine glass. It tasted very juicy, as if the wine was a grape just a moment ago.

They continued through the night with small talk; matters revolving around the company, how he acquired such a large company, the weather, their meals, and even Hermione's shoes. She was absolutely shocked at how much he had changed over the years she hadn't seen him. Conversations seemed to carry on so easily now, and he was much more approachable. She even found herself laughing a few times that night.

When dinner and desert were finished, they walked together to the front door. Draco thanked the waitresses and hostess, and held the door open for Hermione. She gratefully stepped outside and immediately shivered at the wind.

"Follow me," he beckoned.

She obeyed, and he led her to a sleek, black, two-door car sitting at the edge of the parking lot outside of the restaurant. As she was walking, her jaw slid down as she watched Draco reach into his pocket and pull out keys that, when clicked, made the car's headlights flash in her eyes and make a sound indicating that the doors were being unlocked.

She walked over to the passenger side, and he made his way to the driver's side.

Still in shock, she asked, "You can't be serious; this is yours?"

He smiled and said, "Get in, and I'll drive you home."

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