Author's note: Hi everyone! This was my first piece of fanfiction that I published back on March 27, 2022 but I deleted it from my account later on. However, I want to reupload it back to my account, so here it is! I would've edited it, but it thought it'd be most genuine to leave it in its original, unaltered form (including the original author's note I'd left at the end) :)

—

Life is about competition.

Sure, it has its camaraderies at times, but when it all boils down—it's about competition.

And, with this mantra swirling repeatedly around in her head, Hermione Granger dashed towards the last Squeeze Toy Alien plushie on the rack of the Magic Kingdom souvenir shop.

It was like a slow motion action scene—as she ran, her frizzy mane of hair whipped the side of her face. From her peripheral vision, she noticed little details in her surroundings: a little girl licking an ice cream cone, a man fumbling with a bunch of bags in his hands, a…blur of red making its way toward her alien.

Oh, no no no no. That was her's.

Hermione gritted her teeth and hurtled forward, her feet beating against the concrete. Too late, she overestimated her destination and crashed into the rack itself. Panting, she used it to straighten herself upright and quickly disentangled her shirt from a stray rack wire. Rotating back around, she reached for her alien— wait, where'd it go? The rack was empty.

Hermione whipped her head around, befuddled. It was just ther e! She couldn't have just been seeing things. She quickly glanced behind the rack (nothing) and at nearby racks (nothing). Desperately, she made her way towards the cashier, planning to inquire if there had been a Squeeze Toy Alien plushie on the rack that someone might've taken and returned.

There was only one other person ahead of her in line. Broad shoulders were covered in a burgundy uniform of sorts, the color contrasting vividly with his shock of white-blond hair. Hermione leaned sideways to peek curiously at what he was purchasing and— are you kidding me. He held the alien plushie stark against his chest with one hand, the other holding his phone as he scrolled through what looked like social media.

"Hey!"

The alien-stealer turned around, clearly startled by Hermione's raised voice. Hermione faltered a bit.

He looked like royalty.

His skin was pale and unblemished, amalgamating with his light hair. Gray eyes stared down at her, matched with pale eyebrows that were currently arched in a question. His facial features were sharp and aristocratic. It almost felt wrong to accuse him.

Until he opened his mouth.

"No, I'm not giving you the alien."

Then he turned back around and continued scrolling on his phone.

Hermione just stood there, trying to process the turn of events. What the heck just happened? He's British too? How did he know I was going to ask him for it? Either it was a lucky guess, or he knew she was going for it and plucked it from right under her nose. Bewilderment immediately gave way to fury, and she harshly tugged on his uniform.

Hermione didn't even wait for him to turn around fully before launching into a tangent. "How did you know I wanted that? You couldn't have known unless you saw me running full-speed to grab it from the rack, meaning you stole it before I could get it. That is such childish behavior! If you saw me, then it was obvious I was going for the alien."

He scowled down at her, visibly annoyed. Hermione noticed the hand holding the alien toy clench a bit tighter. With no idea what to do with her hands (which were just awkwardly hanging by her side), she placed them on her hips for effect.

His voice came out as a slow drawl. "How could I have stolen this alien if I'm clearly in line to pay for it? You're falsely accusing me of theft."

"You obviously knew that I was going to buy it! That's basically stealing!"

"It's called first-come-first-serve. I can't help the fact that you clumsily ran into the entire rack. It just happened to give me an opportunity to take the alien. Blame yourself."

Hermione was sure that smoke was escaping from her ears, along with the embarrassed blush creeping up her face. "I—this is unbelievable! Squeeze Toy Aliens are my favorite, and I came here today with the sole purpose of getting that plushie! They're limited edition, and do you know how fast they sell out? This is my first and probably only time at Magic Kingdom, and it's my only chance at ge—"

"Next!"

Hermione was sure she never hated cashiers more than at that moment. With the checkout open, the thief gave Hermione a smug look before sauntering forward and handing the alien to the cashier. He hadn't even bothered to reply to Hermione.

An incensed Hermione stormed out of the store, hair flying astray behind her head, face red with anger, and hands devoid of a Squeeze Toy Alien plushie.

—

"And then he just went and paid! Without even replying to me!"

Harry nodded sympathetically, while Ron continued to wolf down his funnel cake. It'd only been five minutes, and he'd already eaten half of it.

They were in line for Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin, a shooting game that was surprisingly popular. Behind where Hermione, Harry, and Ron stood, Parvati and Lavender were gossiping about the typical subjects—boys and makeup. A few spots behind them stood Seamus, Dean, and Neville. The former two seemed to be engaged in a heated discussion about soccer, while the latter looked on with slight concern. There were probably other acquaintances further beyond in the line.

The graduating class of Hogwarts High School had taken a field trip to America's Magic Kingdom Park, a symbolic way to end their high school journey. To commemorate entering adulthood by whisking back to childhood. Clever.

"Don' 'orry, 'ermione," said Ron through a mouthful of food. "'I'll 'bu a 'ickey 'ouse toy for you." He choked a bit.

"Chew your food, mate." Harry clapped Ron on the back and turned back to Hermione, giving her a commiserating wince. "I'm sorry, Mione. You said that was the last one, and since they only sell them at that one souvenir shop, I don't know how we can get you another one."

"I know!" Hermione bemoaned. "I sound—I sound so childish and materialistic!"

"No, that's not what I meant! Let's just…try and forget about this and enjoy our trip. I mean, it's our last high school field trip ever." Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione and Ron, bringing them all into a slightly-uncomfortable group hug. "Let's make it our best."

—

Two hours later, and they finally got sort of close to the front of the line. If fifty people ahead constitutes as sort of.

Ron slumped onto Harry, who staggered a bit. "Why the hell did half of the tourists at the park today choose to ride this ride? We've been here for hours. We can't even leave either 'cause we've already wasted so long waiting."

Hermione, who was leaning on the railing that separated the line and looking over the park map for the millionth time, looked up and frowned in agreement. "I have no idea. I read on the Magic Kingdom website that the usual wait time for this ride is only an hour at most. I suppose coming on a weekend would cause an influx of that number, but this is a little ridiculous."

Despite Ron's heavy bodyweight leaning into his side, Harry grinned. "Of course you'd memorize the wait times for all the rides. Tell me, how much does it cost for me to buy a corndog here?"

Hermione rolled up her map and swatted Harry with it.

—

As Harry and Ron boarded the two-person ride and disappeared into the enveloping darkness, Hermione leaned onto the railing and sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. As the cars for the ride only fit two people in a row, she'd agreed to stay behind and ride the next car. She was exhausted. Who knew simply standing was so draining?

A disruption behind her caused Hermione's eyes to pop back open. She looked behind her…and immediately wanted to hit something. Mr. Alien-Thief was making his way toward her, either oblivious to or ignoring the disgruntled people he was elbowing past.

Of course he would be the type of person to try and cut in line. Hermione fumed on the spot. She hated rule-breakers like him, people who disregard others to put themselves first. She looked around, trying to spot an available Magic Kingdom worker to report her finding. He isn't getting away with this, either.

Just as she noticed a lone woman with a Magic Kingdom employee uniform on, Mr. Alien-Thief spoke to Hermione. Rather, he spoke to the couple behind Hermione.

Hermione discreetly observed this interaction through her peripheral vision, straining her ears to catch any vestiges of conversation. She hadn't really noticed the two standing behind her, but she took a good look now. They were a rather attractive pair, and, on second glance, around Hermione's age. Both wore red uniforms that matched with the one Mr. Alien-Thief wore—school uniforms, Hermione guessed. Must be some fancy private school.

"Draco, finally! Where were you?" The girl, who sported a short-cut bob, held up her phone. "I tried calling you so many times. I thought you wouldn't be able to find us."

Her companion, a guy who looked as though he'd just staggered out of bed after two hours of sleep, rolled his eyes. "Mate, you're dead as soon as we finish riding this ride. You drop us off to wait out the line for you, go off to frolic around, and come back just before we board. Bastard. How the hell did you even know when we'd reach the front of the line?"

Mr. Alien-Thief— Draco —smirked and threw his arm around Sleepy Guy in a surprisingly companion-like move. "Lucky guess, Theo. I owe you one. You too, Pansy."

"That you do," Theo grumbled, shaking Draco's arm off. "Buy me another pineapple float later."

"Deal."

The next car for the ride pulled into the open, and the passengers loaded off, chattering excitedly. Hermione faced forward as the gate opened, eager to escape her close proximity with Draco. She rushed into the car and quickly pulled the safety belt across her lap. She was bent over, adjusting the belt strap, when the weight of her car noticeably shifted to the right and the click of another safety belt being secured was audible. She looked up.

Gray eyes looked back at her.

"Fuck's sake, you again?"

Hermione's jaw dropped open in indignation. " What are you doing? Why are you sitting here?"

"I didn't know you were in front of us! I don't want to sit with you."

"Well, I don't want to sit with you, either! I thought you were going to ride with your friends!"

"In case you didn't notice, we're a party of three. Each car fits two."

"Okay, then ride by yourself!"

"Fine. I'm getting off right now."

"You do that."

"Great."

"Great."

Draco moved to unbuckle his safety belt—but hands stopped him. Both he and Hermione looked up to find a bored-looking park worker straightening up. "Keep your strap buckled at all times. Enjoy the ride," the worker muttered in a monotonous voice before shoving a thumbs-up in the air (probably a signal to the ride operators) and moving on to the next car, officially leaving no chance for Draco to get off.

"Alright, I guess I'm staying." Draco picked up the plastic gun from its slot in front of him. "Don't interfere with my shooting."

"I— you better not interfere with mine!" Affronted, Hermione snatched her gun from its slot and rested it in her hands.

And, with the unspoken competition hanging in the air, both plunged into the darkness with the determination to best the other.

—

Needless to say, Hermione was struggling.

It was barely two minutes into the ride, and she'd only racked up 500 points. With a surreptitious glance to her right, she glanced at the 2000 radiating in front of Draco and inwardly groaned.

She had to beat him. With restored vigor, Hermione lifted her gun once more.

Two more minutes later, and Hermione was stuck at 600 points. She helplessly looked at Draco's score, not even bothering to be inconspicuous. 5400. Great.

Draco, who up until that point had been surprisingly quiet with focus, noticed her blatant goggling and spared a second to eye her score, before doubling back and overtly staring at her. "How the hell are you doing so bad?"

Hermione flushed, though the darkness of the ride concealed it. "I—I don't know! I think something's probably wrong with my gun!"

Draco, who'd turned back forward to blast some more aliens, smirked. "Yeah, I'm sure it's that." He extended his hand toward her. "Let me try."

With no other option, a frustrated Hermione obediently set her gun in his hand. He set his own back into its slot and hoisted hers upward, pausing for a moment before pulling the trigger.

600 changed to 700.

"Looks like it works pretty well to me," said Draco smugly.

Irritated and blushing furiously, Hermione motioned for her gun back. "Whatever, just give it back to me. I'll figure it out." Her outstretched hand beckoned for her gun.

However, Draco didn't immediately hand it back to her. He seemed to hesitate for a second before placing it back into her palm and picking up his own again. But, instead of resuming shooting, he scooted closer to her. "Tell me how you're shooting."

"Uh…how I'm shooting?" Hermione replied slowly, trying to gauge his motive. "By aiming at the aliens and pulling the trigger?"

Draco shook his head, hefting his gun upward to eye-level. "You have to shoot just a tiny bit higher than the actual alien. Aim a bit above their heads, and shoot. Try it." He nudged her hand that was holding her gun, gesturing for her to give it a try.

Wary, Hermione lifted it. She side-eyed Draco. "If this sabotages me, I'll recite Chapter 1 of Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility into your ear for the rest of the ride.

She turned forward, narrowly missing the bemused expression that crossed Draco's face at her words. Taking aim at an innocent green alien by the side, Hermione tilted her gun slightly upwards. She steadied her hand and pulled the trigger.

800.

—

"—but then I think my hand slipped, so I missed that one. Surprisingly though, I'm pretty sure I got that one alien hidden halfway behind a crate. Lucky shot, I guess."

Hermione and Draco strolled out of Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin, the former listing off her accomplishments during the ride and latter listening intently. Hermione shoved her wallet and purse into Draco's hands, bending over to tie her stray shoelaces.

"It's so surprising, though," she continued as she knotted the string. "I've never been good at these shooting games. I've always scored dismal scores whenever I attempt to play one at an arcade or theme park. This is the first time I've ever played one of these games and can be considered objectively good."

"You're welcome." Draco's flat demeanor matched his smooth gait as he continued forward, leaving her bent over her shoe. "If I hadn't given you that 'shoot higher' tip, you would've ended with that 600. I'm almost regretting it." His voice carried over the surrounding noise as he walked further away.

As much as it pained her to do so, Hermione had to begrudgingly agree to herself. She went through life employed with a logical perspective, preferring the facts over the loopholes. And, while it might sound stupid to apply her life philosophies to arcade games, she did sustain such convictions, even during meager tasks like such.

Shoelace tied, she straightened, muttering "git" under her breath and jogging to catch up with Draco. She snatched her purse back and sent him a scowl. They walked out into the Tomorrowland main plaza, where families with toddlers and groups of teens milled around, licking ice cream cones and taking selfies. The conversation noticeably stalled, bringing forth an air of awkwardness. With the sun directly shining downwards and Hermione grasping for anything to fill the void of silence, she took the chance to stare at Draco's uniform. She could make out the words "Durmstrang Institute" woven neatly in black onto Draco's shirt pocket.

"Where's Durmstrang?"

Draco looked down at his shirt. "Ah. It's in northern Britain. We flew here for a graduating trip."

So he was also graduating. Hermione was about to inquire about where exactly in northern Britain when Draco spoke further.

"What's your name?"

Oh right. They'd argued over an alien plushie and rode through a simulation ride together, but they hadn't even officially exchanged introductions.

"Oh, it's Hermione. Hermione Granger."

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Like in Greek mythology?"

Hermione was surprised. Not many people knew of her name's reference to Helen of Troy and Menelaus's daughter. "Yes, like in Greek mythology. How did you know?"

He shrugged. "Greek mythology is interesting. I'm Dr—"

"I know who you are," Hermione unthinkingly interrupted. When Draco gave her a questioning look, she blushed and forged forward. "Uh, I heard your friends call you Draco back when we were in line."

"So you were eavesdropping."

"No! You all were just…being loud." Yes, she had been eavesdropping, but Hermione was never going to admit that to him.

The corner of Draco's lip rose before he straightened and looked down at her. "Who do you have to get back to? A family? A best friend? A boyfriend? Unless you're here by yourself, which would be a sad and pathetic sight."

It was amazing how fast Hermione's mood changed. She swelled with indignation and glowered at him. "First of all, it would not be pathetic for me to be here by myself! Society has this appalling expectation for individuals to travel around in groups for some foolish reason, and now everybody's conditioned to believe that being dependent is somehow preferable to independence! And, secondly, I'm here with my school on a graduation trip too."

She stopped, taking a breath before glaring up at Draco. Expecting to see an annoyed expression on his face (as most people who witness her tangents about human society tended to possess after), she didn't anticipate the amusement that graced his face. His eyes looked to be a lighter shade of gray.

"You better be getting back then." He placed his hands in his pockets casually.

"Yes. Okay, well…okay." Everything was suddenly awkward again. Hermione was reminded of the fact that this was the guy she yelled at over a plushie and then proceeded to shoot little green aliens with. She also just complained about the ingrained standards of civilization to him. "Uh, I'm going to find my friends now. Yours are probably waiting for you too. It was fun riding the ride with you. Um, bye."

Unreasonably flustered, Hermione all but hurtled away before Draco had a chance to utter another word. She darted through the crowds of people before scurrying behind an ice cream vendor. Refusing to dwell on whatever it was that just happened back there, she retrieved her phone from her pocket and dialed Harry's number.

—

For some reason, Hermione hid the fact that she just rode Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin with her plushie rival from Harry and Ron.

She just never had a chance to bring it up, that's why. As soon as she reunited with the boys outside of the Space Mountain ride, they immediately received a text from Mr. Dumbledore, the Hogwarts principle, for every student to meet at the rendezvous point in five minutes for a midday head count (Hermione wasn't sure what would happen to the students in line for a ride or riding a ride).

When they arrived at the meeting location, a candy store that was on the opposite side of the park, the trio's energy was depleted. Ron promptly snatched Lavender's just-opened bottle of water from her hands and chugged three-fourths of it down, despite Lavender's protests. Harry collapsed onto a nearby bench, placing his intertwined hands behind his head and gasping for air. Hermione, meanwhile, simply slumped to the ground, posture forgotten as she curled over to catch her breath. She muttered a tired "Present!" when Mr. Dumbledore called her name for attendance, then returned to sagging in exhaustion.

It wasn't simply just her and the boys, either. Padma Patil and Hannah Abbott arrived moments after Hermione, Ron, and Harry did. Both girls were in similar condition, gulping down water and respiring heavily. One glance at Mr. Dumbledore saw the principle oblivious to the struggles of his students, still twinkly-eyed as ever.

What a day.

—

After the headcount ended and Hermione had rested considerably, she decided to buy some candy. They were right in front of a candy store, anyway. She needed some energy in her system.

With dentist parents, Hermione grew up with a lack of candy. It wasn't a strictly dictatorial household where sweets were banned, per se, but a household of education. Hermione was a bright child, and her parents never missed an opportunity to explain the damage and rot that sugar could cause on teeth. So, as a child, Hermione chose to mostly abstain from candy.

Even in the present time, Hermione tended to prefer the 'healthy alternatives' of junk food. So, as she made her way around the candy store, she had to endure Ron's "You're gonna pick that?" everytime she took a bag of choice off its shelf to purchase. Her final stash consisted of chocolate-covered raisins, lightly-sugared cashews, and plain dried mangoes with no sugar.

Ron called it a horror to society.

" Honestly, Mione, are you really going to buy those?" He followed Hermione as she made her way to the checkout. "Are you sure you really like them? It seriously won't hurt to eat real candy for once. Those mangoes are basically just fruit!"

Hermione started placing her items in front of the cashier. "Yes, Ron." She sighed, exasperated, and turned to him in annoyance. "I do like them."

"I…alright. I just…I dunno, I just wanted to make sure you like them before you buy them." He shuffled away.

Shaking her head, Hermione reached into her purse to pay for her purchase. She dug around. Keys, hair tie, bobby pin, a coin, a random receipt from somewhere, another hair tie, some tissue, hand sanitizer. Her brow furrowed.

The cashier looked at her expectantly.

Hermione withdrew her hand, panicked. Where's my wallet?

She patted her pockets frantically before rummaging through her purse once more. "I had it! I even bought a burger at the park this morning with my debit card!" She excused herself from the flummoxed cashier and rushed towards Harry and Ron, who were examining what looked to be durian candy in the back of the store.

"I heard it smells foul." Ron was sniggering.

"I'll buy it if you try it first," Harry proposed. He looked fascinated.

"Deal."

The two grabbed the pack of durian candy and barely took a step forward before Hermione reached them and dragged them back, positioning them so that they were all huddling in the corner of the store. She tried to relax her eyebrows, which were clenched with worry.

"Mione, what's wrong?"

"I lost my wallet."

" WHAT?"

"I don't know," wailed Hermione desperately. "I know I had it at least this morning around 9AM because I bought that cheeseburger with my debit card and even tipped the guy with my card even though the burger was already expensive and the guy was a terrible waiter but now I don't know where it is because I was just trying to pay for my candy and I reached into my purse and it wasn't there, see"—she thrust her purse at the boys—"and now I have no idea where it is and I don't remember displacing it and I don't know if I need to call—"

"Hermione, calm down! Breathe." Harry's sturdy grip on her shoulder stopped Hermione's stream of consciousness. "In and out."

She breathed in, then out. Then repeated. Then her shoulders slumped. "Sorry, I panicked. I don't know what I'm supposed to do." Hermione's heart sped up again. "I have everything in my wallet—my driver's license, my credit and debit cards, my cash and gift cards. Oh god, what am I going to do? What if someone stole it?"

"Don't be sorry, Mione." Ron's voice was firm. He placed his hand on her other, unoccupied shoulder. "We're gonna figure this out and get your wallet back." Beside him, Harry nodded seriously.

"You've got us."

—

By the time the trio finally halted their search, it was almost dinnertime. They'd retraced Hermione's entire route throughout the park, returning to all the rides she remembered going on and even riding a few to see if maybe her wallet had fallen on one of the seats, as desperate as that sounded.

They collapsed on an empty bench by the side of the park, empty-handed and defeated.

Harry ran his hands through his hair, looking frustrated. "I don't understand. How did it just disappear? You never let your wallet out of your sight."

"It's fine. There are contingencies." Hermione felt empty. Hours of running around to chase an object she had no read on had worn her out. "I already called my bank and froze my cards. I'll contact the government about my driver's license and other ID issues when we leave. Sorry for ruining what was supposed to be a fun getaway for us today."

Ron and Harry both shook their heads simultaneously, adopting similar looks of gentle resignation.

"You didn't, Mione," Ron murmured. He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Friends over teacup rides any day. Plus, today wasn't even fun in the first place. All these bloody people—"

"Granger."

Draco didn't say her name very loud, but his voice seemed to carry over the crowd of people milling by, its smooth timbre commanding an air of consciousness. He was strolling towards them, his friends Theo and Pansy towing behind, looking on curiously.

Suddenly, Hermione felt very self-conscious. Here she was, pathetically being comforted over an item she'd scurried around for hours to look for, just for it all to result in her looking up into the aristocratic face of Draco Malfoy.

He stared down at her, for a minute, features resting blank. Then, he extended his hand forward. In his palm lay a small, slightly worn rectangle of leather. The letters HJG, slightly faded, were etched on its edge.

Hermione mentally slapped herself. Of course —she'd left her wallet with him after riding Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin, and, like a bimbo, she'd left it in his possession in her rush to get away from him afterwards.

Hermione reached forward and retrieved her belonging, flushing. "Oh—goodness, I…thank you, I completely forgo—"

"Oi, what's going on here?" Ron had stood up, and was now inspecting Draco, clearly skeptical. "Who's he? How does he know you and why does he have your wallet?"

"Oh Ron, honestly! I forgot to get it back from him after riding Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin, and he's bringing it back to me."

" Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin? But who is he?" Ron swiveled to face Draco. "Who are you?" he demanded.

Draco regarded him with what looked to be slight disdain. "The alien thief, as I'm sure she's explained to you about me."

Hermione felt herself flushing redder as Ron spluttered, " WHAT? Mione, you rode Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin with the bloke who nabbed your alien plushie and then was an arse about it? This blond git?"

"Thank you for returning Hermione's wallet," Harry interjected with a quick smile, placing himself between a crimson Ron and an unbothered Draco. "We spent a lot of time looking for it."

Draco nodded at him, and then addressed Hermione. "It's lucky those two wanted to ride Splash Mountain." He gestured behind him toward his friends, Theo and Pansy, who were standing a respectful distance away. Ron shot them both with suspicious looks, which Pansy reciprocated. "If we hadn't made our way in this direction, I don't know if we would have found you."

"Ah." Hermione scratched her neck. "Yes, we were quite mobile in our search."

Draco nodded again, continuing to stare down at her silently and lingering until it became slightly awkward. Ever the savior, Harry noticed the shift in atmosphere, quickly muttering to Ron about "the bathroom" and dragging him away, despite the redhead's confused protests.

As soon as they disappeared around the corner, Draco took a seat next to Hermione on the bench. She shifted awkwardly, running through multiple scenarios and possibilities for whatever this was about to be.

"Do you…did you like Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin?"

Was—was Draco blushing? There he sat, looking slightly abashed and seemingly avoiding eye contact with Hermione as she stared at him in confusion.

"Yes, I did," Hermione replied slowly. He sat down to ask her this? "Why do you ask?"

If possible, Draco seemed more flustered. His pale skin now had a pinkish tinge to it, and he rubbed the back of his neck almost self-consciously. "Do you want to ride it with me again?" His eyes flitted towards her before he averted them again, focusing on the ground instead. If Hermione didn't know better, she'd say that he looked almost nervous.

Hermione was flabbergasted. He wanted to ride it again with her? Didn't Draco dislike her? After all, she'd initiated a whole public quarrel with him over a toy.

"I—uh, I…what about your friends? Theo and Pansy?"

"They didn't like it."

"Ohh. I see."

There was a moment of silence, and then Draco coughed. He stood up quickly, adjusted his shirt collar, and then turned back to Hermione, all vulnerability wiped from his expression. "I'll take your lack of words as a no then, Granger. See you around." He started to make his way toward Theo and Pansy.

Instinctively, Hermione's hand shot out and she grabbed Draco's sleeve, pulling him back. "No! I didn't…I was just a bit shocked that you asked me since we aren't really friends, you know. And I yelled at you for that Squeeze Toy Alien plushie."

Draco was staring down at her with unmasked surprise. It seemed as though he had expected her to reject his question, and she'd proved him wrong. "So, that's a yes?"

Hermione gave him a tentative smile. "That's a yes."

—

The wait time for Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin was three hours, but it felt like thirty minutes in Hermione's head.

Talking with Draco was… easy. When they first entered the line, the awkwardness was palpable. Hermione had never been great with small-talk, and Draco's stoic demeanor didn't exactly make him exude openness for conversation, either. Fortunately, an opening for conversation appeared when, three minutes into waiting in line, a little boy a few spots ahead of them started crying and then promptly threw up on his mothers shoulder.

Draco pursed his lips and wrinkled his nose as the mother hurried back through the line, crying boy in tow as she muttered apologies. "Disgusting," he muttered.

"You don't like children?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"No. They're horribly annoying and all they do is cry and eat and sleep and then cry again. I suspect that the only child I'll ever tolerate in my life is my own if I ever have one."

Figures. He didn't really seem like somebody who liked children, anyway. "Well, not all children are like that. According to my parents, I almost never cried when I was younger. All I did was read books and follow my parents around, asking inane questions about anything I could lay my eyes on."

Draco smirked at her. "Narcissistic much? Using yourself to depict the jewel in the crown is quite vain, even by my standards."

Hermione spluttered. "You know I didn't mean it that way! I'm just trying to depict a different perspective."

"Whatever you say, Granger."

From there on, time whizzed by and the two discussed more topics. Surprisingly, they had a lot in common, both academically and personally. Draco apparently excelled in chemistry, and he spent a good half hour explaining concepts to Hermione at her request. In return, she managed to teach him a few statistical theories he expressed interest in learning. Naturally, when she told him that she went to Hogwarts High School, he made fun of the name and boasted about how cool 'Durmstrang' sounded. Hermione then pointed out that it sounded a lot like "drumstick" to her, which made Draco sober up quickly. They'd then had an interesting debate about whether turkey or chicken was superior ( Honestly, who preferred turkey over chicken?).

He told her about his family—his businessman father and socialite mother. Cold, but caring. About his butler, Dobby, whom he seemed to genuinely care for. Hermione talked about her own mother and father and their dentistry practice.

He was a great conversationalist when engaged and a superb debate partner. And, Hermione thought as she stepped into the car, he's quite cute.

—

"Yeah, I should probably find Harry and Ron now. I think we're supposed to leave soon."

Hermione and Draco were standing outside Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin after their ride. With three hours lost from their time in line alone, the sun had set and the moon was glaring down onto the park.

"Alright. Theo and Pansy are probably impatiently waiting for me, too." Draco squinted up at the moon. "I didn't realize we'd get out this late."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah."

They both basked in the silence, heads tilted up to stare at the moon. Draco broke the quietness first.

"I'll be going then. Thanks for agreeing to ride this with me." He shot Hermione a small, rare smile.

Hermione reciprocated, shifting on her feet. "Okay. You're welcome. Bye."

Draco stared at her for a few seconds, as if waiting for her to say something else, before murmuring a farewell and turning around. His strides started to carry him further away from Hermione.

Oh, damn it.

"Wait!"

Hermione ran to catch up with Draco. He turned around, eyebrows arched.

"Can I have your number?"

Draco actually looked shocked for a moment, before he recovered quickly and gave her a small, genuine smile, the first she'd seen with teeth. "Give me yours first."

"What? No! I asked for yours."

"Let's trade."

—

Hermione walked out of Magic Kingdom with a Squeeze Toy Alien plushie in her hands and her number saved in the phone of one Draco Malfoy.

—

Author's note: thank you so much for reading! this is the first piece of fanfiction i've ever written, so i'm really happy you decided to give it a try.