Draco, Blaise, Theo, and Adrian sat around the table, sipping their drinks. The restaurant, a classy wizarding sports bar, was quiet. The only other patrons were across the bar in the shadows, a rather large man and a woman. Occasionally a puff of cigarette smoke drifted across to them.
"So," Draco said casually, taking a pull of his drink. "You still seeing Granger, Blaise?"
Adrian and Theo cast each other wary looks. Lately whenever the Malfoy heir brought up the muggleborn Granger, it was a sign that his temper was precariously close to exploding. Blaise, however, looked supremely unconcerned.
"Yeah," he said. "Why? What's it matter to you?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "It doesn't. Why would it? I just think it's degrading, is all. A muggleborn and a Gryffindor? I just thought you had more class."
Blaise chuckled softly. "She has redeeming qualities."
"Hey, guys," Adrian interrupted with a sort of desperate brightness, "you going to the Quidditch match in Surrey next week? I reckon we could get front row seats, cheer against Potter, you know?"
Draco and Blaise ignored him. Theo gave him an apologetic shrug.
"Oh, yeah?" Draco challenged, his stormy eyes flashing. "Like what? What could possibly be good about a bushy-haired Gryffindor?"
Blaise smiled a long, slow smirk. "Well," he said, staring his friend in the eyes, "for one, her hair smells like cinnamon. Did you know that? Sort of sweet and spicy. And her skin is like the finest silk. Her lips are soft and smooth. Do you want to know what she tastes like?"
Draco's pale face was flushed and his jaw gritted. "Not really," he growled. "That's disgusting, Zabini."
"Why are you getting so upset?" Theo asked bluntly. Adrian kicked him under the table, but he ignored him.
"I'm not," Draco said shortly, his jaw twitching.
Blaise scrutinized him for a moment before lifting one dark eyebrow. "You can't fancy her."
"Don't be ridiculous!" Draco snapped. "I am the great Draco Malfoy, heir of one of the oldest, purest, and richest wizarding bloodlines. I can get any girl I want. I wouldn't settle for something like her."
"Good," Blaise said simply. "Because she's mine."
Silence fell over the table.
"So…about that match…"
Slowly, the talk turned to Quidditch and Hermione Granger wasn't mentioned again.
In the corner, the woman sitting in the shadows gave a slow smile.
…
My Dearest Hermione,
I would love to see your beautiful face once more. If you are amiable, why don't we meet at the café on the corner. Sunday, at one p.m.?
Warmest Regards,
Blaise
Hermione stared at the letter, biting her lip before turning to the other piece of parchment on her table.
Granger-
Hyde's Park. By the statue. Sunday, one p.m.
-Malfoy
She was bemused. What exactly was going on here? Why did Malfoy suddenly want to meet up with her after weeks of no contact? And Blaise, why had he chosen the same time as Malfoy? She raked a hand through her brown curls, thinking hard. Blaise was charming and suave. He was a gentlemen and incredibly hot. Malfoy was just as hot, but his moodiness overwhelmed her. She was still angry about him lying about Harry's letter, too. But she remembered him holding Scorpius, remembered the tender look in his eyes as he stared at his child. She thought about both Slytherins, her brow furrowed in thought before nodding decisively to herself, her mind made up.
…
Sunday dawned gloomy and overcast. Hermione woke up early, had her coffee, fed her owl and cat, and read the paper. She puttered around her flat for a while, tidying up. Then she donned a casual sundress, ran a brush through her curls, swiped on some mascara and pale pink lip gloss and headed out the door. She walked briskly, the cool breeze tugging at her dress and hair. She reached her destination and glanced at her watch. 12:59. Smiling, she pulled open the door to the café and went it.
…..
Draco paced back and forth in front of the statue in the park, furious. How dare she stand him up again? Who did she think she was? He glanced irritably at his pocket watch. 1:26. His hands clenched on his wand in his jean pockets, barely resisting the urge to hex something. His muscles were tense as he glared balefully at the statue.
Where could she be? Why hadn't she shown up? His fists clenched and his breathing became erratic. He had asked her to meet him so he could apologize properly for the other day at the Manor. And she didn't even have the courtesy to show up!
Three muggle teenagers swaggered up to him, laughing.
"Hey mate," one of them said. "Got a light?" He held out a cigarette expectantly.
Draco's eyes flashed and his jaw clenched. He said nothing.
"Hello?" another one said. "Anybody home?"
"Maybe he's mental," the third sniggered, poking Draco in the chest. "You retarded?"
The teenagers laughed, slapping each other with high-fives. Draco stepped forward and tapped one on the shoulder. When the boy turned to him, Draco punched him square in the face. The sickening crack of a broken nose echoed through the air. The boy doubled over, crimson blood pouring through his cupped hands. The other two teens were stricken, staring at him in shock. Draco grabbed one by the throat and threw him down before punching the other in the gut. He reached into his pocket and touched his wand, imagining using the Crucio curse on the muggle cretins. With a massive show of restraint, he turned jerkily away and briskly walked off, leaving them bleeding on the ground.
He walked aimlessly down several streets, fury coursing through him. His mind was blank, nothing but a seething, angry darkness. He strode past shops and houses until he came to a small muggle café. Glaring at his reflection in the glass door, he entered the shop. He could really use a coffee.
He got into line at the front counter and curtly ordered his drink. The barista looked at him with wide eyes as she made his latte. He took it from her without any thanks and turned to leave, but what he saw before him froze him in his tracks. Nestled together in a cozy table by the window were Hermione and Blaise. His world spun. Hermione shifted nervously and glanced over. Her honey-colored eyes widened in shock as they met his. Blaise paused mid-sentence and glanced over as well. His expression was carefully blank as he took in Draco.
Draco took a step forward. "So," he said quietly. "This is how it is."
Neither one of them answered him. Hermione looked down, biting her lip, and Blaise reached over and took her hand.
"I see." Draco turned and very deliberately walked away, each step heavy. He pushed open the glass door and stepped into the street just as the sky began to weep. Ignoring the rain, he slowly Apparated home.