There were some things Hermione Granger never did. She never forgot to brush her teeth after a meal, she never returned a book late to the library, and she never got detention. And she never was quiet for more than ten minutes when not reading or studying… until now. In fact, had Harry and Ron been there, Hermione was sure they'd be glued to a stopwatch counting each second her mouth stayed shut. Heck, the whole Gryffindor House (plus Slytherin and perhaps some of Ravenclaw) would be making bets as to how long the know-it-all would stay silent. So far, her quiet time had spanned the walk from her room to the hotel's lobby, the hotel to the restaurant, and from the restaurant's front door to their table.
And Malfoy hadn't said a word.
Hermione wasn't sure if that was good or bad, actually. But he had maintained his silence from her door to restaurant (called Le Café Riches- Hermione's mind had only a second to ponder the translation before Malfoy ushered her in). It was downright scary.
And now, they sat staring at each other across a romantic, candle-lit table.
"So," Malfoy said, looking not the least bit uncomfortable. "How are you?"
Hermione gawked at him.
"This is one of my favorite dining experiences," he continued as if she hadn't said anything (which she hadn't, so it was all good).
Dining experiences? Only Malfoy.
He continued rambling, but Hermione zoned out and began studying her surroundings. Wizards and witches of all shapes and sizes were scattered around various tables in the large room. They all had one thing in common: they were all obviously rich. Hermione patted her hair self-conciously before continuing to look around. The din of hundreds of guests chattering, the expensive silverware scraping against china dishes, and a small string quartet met her ears. Chandeliers hung suspended by magic from the arched ceiling, thick velvet curtains draped around tall glass windows, and the faint smell of roses and lilacs wafted through the air every now and then.
Not a bad place, Hermione admitted, returning her gaze to her date.
Her date? Good Heavens, that made it sound like she had accepted the fact. No, she was definitely still fighting it. No sirree, she wasn't going down that easily. No chance, no way. Not happening. Nope. Definitely not. Hermione Granger, fighter until the end. Yup.
"-and we've been coming here ever since," Malfoy finished. "They have a table reserved especially for us."
"Isn't that great," Hermione muttered. "Do the napkins have your crest embroidered on them as well?"
"Better than the library engraving a plaque for your special little table," he smirked.
"At least it's down to earth there," she retorted, sending a scathing glance at the placemat, which contained seven forks, three spoons, four knives, and three crystal goblets.
"Right, and I bet the librarian has even sewed you cushions for your own chair," Malfoy snorted. "Real down to earth."
"Drop dead, Malfoy," Hermione glared.
"Monsieur, Mademoiselle, est-ce que je peux prendre vos ordres?" A voice interrupted the heated discussion.
"Ah, Jacques, comment bon pour vous voir!" Malfoy responded.
"Monsieur Malfoy! Quel plaisir!" The waiter practically beamed. "Queest-ce que je peux faire pour vous ce soir?"
"L'eau juste pour maintenant," Malfoy said with a nod, and the waiter scurried away. Malfoy took out his napkin and began unfolding it as Hermione stared at him.
"Malfoy," she started slowly, words forming slowly in her brain. "Were you just speaking French to that guy?"
He looked up, surprised from his linen duties. "Why, yes, Granger, I was. Some of us do know more than one language."
Hermione ignored that little barb and pressed onwards. "And why were you speaking French to that man?"
"Because Jacques speaks it," he responded patiently.
Hermione gritted her teeth, "Does Jacques speak English?"
"No, he came straight from France to London to work here."
No. Freaking. Way.
"Malfoy," she said surprisingly calmly for the amount of rage bottled up inside of her, "does anyone here speak English?"
"No, Granger. This is a French restaurant," he said absently, smoothing his napkin in his lap.
"Malfoy," Hermione repeated, again, surprisingly devoid of emotion, "did you realize I don't speak French?"
He finally made eye contact, feigning surprise. "Why, no! I thought you knew everything!"
Hermione just stared at him. This isn't happening. On a whim, she grabbed her napkin and looked at the tag. French. She looked at the sign listing the specials. French. She grabbed the menu and opened it. French, French, French.
"Malfoy, please tell me this was just a misunderstanding and you really didn't mean to strand me in a restaurant, hungry enough that my stomach is eating itself, without knowing the language in which to order food."
The look on his face said it all.
"Fine!" she yelled, standing up and slamming her hand on the table.
All patrons' heads swiveled to look at her. The quartet stopped playing. Jacques, from the far side of the room, began hurrying over.
"You," Hermione said, voice dripping with loathing, "You absolute moron. You filthy pig, you disgusting piece of carrion, you worthless crapball of… of… CHUM!"
"Chum?" she heard someone whisper in confusion.
"I don't know why I agreed to come with you on this stupid date," she fumed. "I thought perhaps we could have a nice evening, even though we are mortal enemies. Well, I guess I was wrong. You aren't capable of being nice, are you? No, that must be against the code of all that is Malfoy! I wish I had never ran into you in Diagon Alley, you slimy git. Draco Malfoy-" she spoke those two words with every ounce of disgust and detestation she possessed, "-I hope you rot in hell."
With that, she threw her napkin at him and stormed out of the dining hall.
Everyone in the room stared at him. "Well, go after her!" an old lady whispered excitedly, fluttering her hands.
With an inward sigh and an outward smile, Draco flipped a few Galleons onto the table, bowed to the audience, and ran out of the room to a smattering of applause.
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Wow, look who returned from the grave! Yes, I have returned! You guys rock my socks off for being so sweet in continuing to review this story even after it had been months past the chapter due date. I'm really sorry it took so long… but thanks for sticking with me. There's no way I could list all the people that reviewed me during my two month vacation, but please believe me when I say a heart-felt thanks goes out to each one of you!
Love,
trinitymarquise