Together, Hermione and Draco apparated to an empty building and from there, Hermione led them to a small pub tucked away down a side street. Draco raised an eye when they stepped in and he took in the sight before him. The pub was small, a bit dingy, dimly lit, and looked like it had seen better days maybe 100 years before. Draco went to comment but Hermione moved into the pub, winding her way toward a back booth and sliding in like she was at home. Draco slid in across from her and raised one eyebrow.
"This place is...nice?" Draco tried, looking around the booth.
"It's a shit hole," Hermione said with a laugh. "But the food is amazing. Neville Longbottom actually owns this place."
"Longbottom owns a muggle pub?" Draco asked in disbelief. "Why?"
"He thought it would be fun," Hermione replied with a shrug. "When it gets too much in the wizarding world, we come here. It's a bit of an escape for those of us who spent a lot of time in the public eye. I thought this would be a good place to bring you. A sort of in between the Muggle world and the wizarding world."
Before Draco could ask another question, two giant plates appeared before them.
"What is this?" Draco asked, examining the food.
"It's grilled cheese and tomato soup. I always get the same thing when I come," Hermione told him. "I guess whoever is back in the kitchen saw you come in with me and just sent two."
Satisfied the food wouldn't bite back, Draco picked up the sandwich and went to take a bite when Hermione stopped him.
"No, no," she said, laughing. "You have to dip the sandwich in the soup! That's the proper way to eat it."
"Dip it in the soup?" Draco repeated, questioningly. "Why?"
"It's better that way, just trust me," Hermione answered.
With a wary look, Draco dipped the sandwich into the soup and took a bite.
"Bloody hell, that's amazing!" he mumbled with the food in his mouth.
Hermione laughed as he joyfully began to eat the sandwich and she dug into her own food as well. As the meal passed, they began to talk. Draco learned about Hermione, her childhood, her friends, and more about he work. Hermione in turn learned more about Draco. Both steered clear of discussing the war but did find that they were able to share stories about their time at Hogwarts. Draco snorted water out of his nose when Hermione told him about the troll in the basement.
"I can't believe it, Granger," Draco said through his laughter. "Only you, Potter, and Weasley would end up taking on a mountain troll IN school!"
"It wasn't our fault!" Hermione replied, laughing herself. "And hey, we got house points for that!"
"Only because Dumbledore favored Potter," Draco retorted.
He was about to continue but at the mention of their old headmaster, Draco suddenly shut down.
"Malfoy, don't do that," Hermione told him. "Don't shut down on me, we were having fun!"
"Until we were reminded of the horrible person that I am and the task that I couldn't finish," he replied, bitterly.
"Why didn't you kill him?" Hermione asked, reaching over the table to grasp his hand. "Look at me and tell me, why didn't you kill him?"
"Because I was weak," Draco answered, wrenching his hand away from hers. "Because I'm a coward."
"No," Hermione replied, getting up and sliding next to him on his side of the booth. "It's because even if you didn't realize it then, deep down, you're good, you were good, and because of that, you couldn't kill Dumbledore."
She was close to him again and he was having trouble thinking. He was angry with himself but also could feel Hermione's words sinking in. Was he good?
"Yes," Hermione said and Draco realized he'd spoken out loud. "You are good, there is good in you, there always was. You just didn't know it and no one helped you find it."
They sat in silence next to eachother for a few minutes before Hermione stood.
"We should go," she said, quietly. "It's getting late."
Draco looked at his watch and realized it was almost 10. They'd been together for hours, he realized. Sitting in that pub booth, laughing, talking, like they were normal. Like they were friends.
"Okay," he answered, sliding out of the booth.
Hermione called out thanks into the back kitchen and they headed out together. They walked together in silence back to the abandoned building and once they arrived, Hermione turned to Draco.
"It's okay to be confused," Hermione said quietly.
"I'm not confused," Draco replied, looking at her. "I actually feel like I'm seeing clearly for the first time in a long time."
"Then what's wrong?" Hermione asked, frustrated. "What's going on with you?"
"Everything," Draco said with half a laugh. "Nothing. I don't know, Granger, I just don't like being reminded of what I've done."
"You have to learn to live with it," Hermione told him. "We all had to learn to live with what we did during the war."
"You couldn't possibly understand what I did," he answered. "You can't know."
"I know what my patients have been through," Hermione reminded him. "I know what you did, I may not understand but I know what you've been through."
"How can you even look at me?" Draco asked her. "How can you stand to be around me?"
"Because I've forgiven you, Malfoy," Hermione replied. "You need to forgive yourself."
At that, she stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. When she drew back, Draco had to hold himself back from reaching for her.
"Goodnight, Draco," Hermione said, handing him a portkey. Without another word, she walked out of the abandoned building.
Draco released the breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. He'd had a nice time tonight, he mused. He'd enjoyed Granger's company and the kiss on the cheek, it made him think of the kiss they'd shared when he'd broken down on her office floor. They'd never talked about it, he realized. Not really. And he wanted to. All of a sudden, he really wanted to. Tomorrow, he resolved. Tomorrow they'd talk about it. Satisfied, he pulled the portkey Hermione had given him out of his pocket and was whizzed back to Malfoy Manor.