Hi there! A few notes about this update:
1) This version of Draco was inspired by his portrayal in A Very Potter Musical as well as New Girl's 'Bearclaw'. If you're expecting Draco from canon, this will be a very odd experience.
2) This is probably the cringiest thing I have ever written, and I am not sorry.
Let's do this!
x Hermione x
Hermione lands at The Burrow after work on a Friday afternoon, and she's in desperate need of a drink. She's never been much of a drinker, but ever since moving into the loft and befriending Ron and Ginny, the Weasleys' family-owned bar has become a weekly staple.
It doesn't hurt that when Ron's running the bar, as he does most weekends, the drinks are on the house. At least they are for his roommates.
"What can I get for you, Hermione?"
"Surprise me," she says as she slides onto a barstool.
"That's risky. You sure about that?" asks Ron, even though he's already busying himself with a cocktail glass and mystery spirits.
"I'm trying to take more risks!" she says, eyeing the swirling, colorful liquid forming in her glass as Ron prepares her a surprise drink.
"Ahh, you're a risk-taker now?"
"Yep. At Ginny's encouragement, if you must know."
"Honestly, I'm not sure Ginny is the one to go to for that kind of advice." Ron slides her glass across the bar, topping the fuschia-colored cocktail with a cherry.
"Why not? I'm single and off the grid!"
Ron laughs. "You are the least 'off the grid' person I know. Ginny's getting to you."
Hermione takes a sip to discover the drink is the perfect mix of fruity and bitter. It doesn't taste strong, which is odd considering she saw Ron pour a healthy amount of alcohol.
"What is this?"
"I thought you wanted it to be a surprise."
"I'm just curious."
"Alright, if you must know, it's a love potion. Meant to bring you good fortune. It's quite sad seeing you so helplessly single—"
"Oh shut up," she interrupts, reaching over the bar to jokingly shove Ron in the shoulder.
"Hellooooo," comes a voice from the bar's entrance.
"Speak of the devil." Ron nods toward the front door, from where his sister's just entered.
Ginny takes a seat next to Hermione. "Hey, friend. Hey, brother."
"Long time, no see," says Hermione, facetiously, of course. Ginny and Hermione have worked together at the same editorial — the Daily Prophet — for over a year, but only recently started spending their lunch hours together. Now, they barely go a few hours without seeing each other, and Hermione doesn't mind it one bit.
"Hermione, how's that online dating profile coming along?" Ginny asks, jumping right into where they left off during their lunch conversation.
"It's not."
"Get on it! You've got to get back out there." Ginny reaches for her phone on the bar and starts scrolling through her recent photos. "Here, this is a great photo of you! Make it your tinder profile picture!"
Hermione leans over Ginny's shoulder to see a photo of herself on a patio, sipping away on a glass of wine. The main reason she doesn't like it is that, well, Cormac took it. "No, I look terrible in that one!"
"Ron, would you date Hermione?"
For a moment, Hermione panics, dreading his response, until she realizes Ginny's showing him the photo of her, and the question is hypothetical.
Still, she watches for his reaction.
Ron doesn't answer, instead, he splutters a few times, clearly unsure what to say. His ears turn the same color as her drink.
"I don't know why I'm asking you. Even I'm attracted to this photo," says Ginny, flipping back through Hermione's dating apps before sliding the phone back across the bar to her. "I set it as your profile picture."
"Why can't I just meet someone the old-fashioned way, like in a bar?" groans Hermione, pocketing her phone. She instinctively looks up at Ron, who, for some reason, is still avoiding her eye contact.
"Because these are modern times, and you're not going to meet your dream man sitting across from my brother at The Burrow."
Hermione rolls her eyes just as the doors open again, and two blonde men walk in. One is quite tall and fit, the other a bit shorter and scrawnier. They might even be brothers.
"Hey, Ron, where do you want us to put these?" says the taller, more handsome one. Both men carry a cart full of kegs with the name Macmillan Brewing emblazoned on the side, which Hermione recognizes from The Burrow's various beer selections.
"Oh hey, Ernie," says Ron in a neutral voice before nearly screeching, "What's up, Dragon Claw!"
"Hi, Ron!" Ron and the shorter blonde man-child start an elaborate handshake, complete with butt-wiggles and chest bumps.
Ernie catches Hermione's eye and smirks. "Never seen you here before! I'm Ernie Macmillan! My father owns Macmillan Brewing, and we supply The Burrow!"
"Oh, that's great!" says Hermione. She shakes his extended hand and wonders if Ernie might be a good interview candidate for the food and drink section of the Daily Prophet. "Nice to meet you, Ernie."
"And this is Draco—"
"Call me Dragon Claw!" exclaims Draco, now approaching Hermione. She watches on with wide eyes as he pulls himself up onto the bar and slithers toward the other side. Wouldn't it have been easier to walk around the bar?
"Draco's a bit dramatic," says Ernie, as if reading her mind.
"I see. Well, nice to meet you both," says Hermione, shaking Draco's hand.
"Hermione just moved into the loft," interjects Ron as he drags a few of the kegs to the back of the bar, then disappears behind the curtain.
"Great!" says Ernie. "If you ever need someone to show you around the city, let me know! The Macmillans are pretty well connected," he adds with a wink.
Hermione glances to the back, where Ron is still busying himself unloading kegs, unaware of their conversation.
"I'm not actually new to the area," she starts, but stops when Ginny elbows her. "Yeah. I'd love to spend some time with you."
"Awesome. Well, Ron can give you my number, then! Talk soon!" he says, beaming. "Let's go, Dragon Claw!"
Ernie and Draco hurry off back through The Burrow's front doors, just as Ron reappears behind the bar.
"Oooh, Hermione!" says Ginny, smirking at her. "He's attractive."
"He seems a bit, I don't know, pompous."
"So, he's perfect for casual sex. You won't get attached."
Hermione takes another long swig of her drink to finish it off, and the creeping pink on Ron's cheeks doesn't go unnoticed.
"I guess you're right," she says.
"Hey Ron, can you give that guy Hermione's number?"
Ron clears his throat and raises his eyebrows. "That guy?"
Hermione nods. "He seems cool."
Ron smiles, and if Hermione's not mistaken, there's a bit of mischief to his grin. "Great. He'll be so excited."
Her heart sinks at Ron's apparent excitement for her to go out on a date. She smiles, and in the most neutral voice she can muster, "Thank you, Ron."
"You're welcome, Hermione." His tone is stiff, almost forced as he pours three shots, one for himself, Hermione, and Ginny. "To being off the grid."
Hermione holds up her shot glass, as does Ginny, and makes eye contact with Ron for the first time since they were alone that night. "To being off the grid!"
x
Hermione's putting the last finishing touches on her makeup when her phone buzzes and nearly falls from the bathroom vanity. It's Ernie again, responding to her previous text.
"Who's the message from?" asks Ginny from Hermione's bedroom. "Is it Ernie?"
Usually, Hermione would tell her to hush up, but since the loft is currently empty, there are no nosy roommates to butt in and question her about her new 'love interest.'
"We've been texting all day," answers Hermione, exiting the bathroom to poke her head into her bedroom. "He seems really excited!"
"Well, he should be!" says Ginny, eyeing Hermione up and down. "He's a lucky dude."
Hermione's wearing a black mini skirt, a low-cut white blouse, and heels. They're only an inch high, but she still has trouble walking in them. She doesn't mind, though — it's been a while since she's put much effort into dressing up for a date night. Most of her 'dates' with Cormac were of the 'Netflix and chill' variety, and the only dressing up he expected was something easy to remove.
"Do I look okay?"
"You look amazing," says Ginny.
Hermione's gaze travels toward the loft's front door. For the most part, she's grateful that the loft is empty. Ron still isn't back from his shift at the bar, and part of Hermione wants to see him before she leaves for her date.
Well, more accurately, she wants him to see her. Before she can fully unpack that thought, her phone buzzes again, and this time, Ernie's message strikes her as particularly bold.
'Can't wait to demonstrate my skill in the kitchen! Then maybe later, you'll see my skill in a different room.'
Her heart pounds against her chest at the thought of sleeping with Ernie. She's excited, of course, it's been too long, but part of her is bothered by the fact that she doesn't particularly like him. Maybe it's because he's too talkative, and she feels like she can hardly muster a text back before he moves onto another subject. That might translate poorly to verbal conversation. It could also be the way he looks. He's attractive enough, but something is off. It's probably the hair — too blonde. Or, maybe she just needs to get to know someone before being attracted to them.
There could be many reasons. But she's off the grid, and what else are her twenties for if not trying new things? Sometimes 'new things' are as simple as casual sex with a stranger.
Ginny must notice her befuddled expression. "What's wrong, Hermione?"
"His texts are getting raunchier, Ginny. Honestly, I'm kind of nervous." Hermione squints at the screen as another message pops up, burying the boldness of the prior one. "He's asking if I have any dietary restrictions."
"Saucy," laughs Ginny.
"No, I'm serious! What's a hot way to say that I don't feel sexy if I've had a lot of cheese?"
Her phone buzzes again. 'Also, what are you wearing?'
"How do I respond to this?" she tilts the screen toward Ginny, who beams.
"Respond with a simple, 'or not wearing,'" Ginny states confidently.
"Good one," says Hermione, dictating her response. "Or not wearing. Because sex happens naked. Send!" She glances back at Ginny to gauge her reaction. She's new to sexting, after all.
Ginny looks horrified. "Give me your phone," she says, reaching for Hermione's device.
"Why?"
"You need to be more subtle. Don't be so direct."
Hermione hands over her phone, and Ginny starts typing away. "LOL, just kidding. Get ready for the best night of your life."
Ginny hands her phone back, and Hermione immediately starts typing again. More subtle, she can do that. "What about, 'It might even be the last night of your life because my body kills.' Send."
Ginny groans. "You didn't send that—"
Hermione looks down at her sent message. "Oh no. Autocorrect changed 'body' to 'meat bar.'"
"Let's just stop texting him for now," says Ginny. "Dazzle him in person."
Hermione closes out the screen and places her phone on her bedside table next to her purse. "I haven't been on a date for a long time."
"It's not a date, just a hook-up, right? The stakes are low, and he's obviously thrilled about it," Ginny says, motioning toward Hermione's phone.
"Right," says Hermione.
Ginny stands up from the bed and approaches her, gently placing her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "Listen. You've got this. You're beautiful, and you better believe it. Just because Cormac didn't see it doesn't mean Ernie won't. Seriously, look how excited those messages are. He practically texts you back within a second, and he's still texting you even though autocorrect changed 'body' to 'meat bar.'"
Hermione glances back at her phone, blinking bright with another message. "You're right. It's just casual, right?"
"Right."
"I can do this. It'll be fun."
"Yes, you can. You'll have a great time, I'm sure. I can't wait to hear all about it," she adds with a wink.
"What are you going to do all night?"
"Oh, I'll probably hang out with Harry." Hermione can see the uncanny resemblance to her brother when Ginny's ears tinge pink. She's been at the loft a lot, and Hermione knows that it's not because of her.
"Is there something going on there?" she asks, trying to keep her voice neutral.
"It's just casual," Ginny shrugs. There's something wistful in her voice, like maybe she doesn't want it to be just casual. Hermione thinks that Ginny and Harry would make a great couple. She wonders what Ron would say about it.
"Also, don't mention it to Ron," adds Ginny, as if she can read her mind. "I have a feeling he'd be weird about it."
Oddly, something about being told not to tell Ron makes Hermione want to. She imagines them giggling over a beer, gossiping about their budding romance. Not that anything like that would ever happen. Ron and Hermione are reluctant friends, at best. Right?
"I won't say anything."
Ginny beams. "Now, go get laid!"
x
Punctual as always, Hermione arrives at Ernie's apartment five minutes earlier than she expected and takes the extra time to check her hair in the mirror by the elevator. She assures herself she looks fine, even though it's always a bit jarring to see herself all dressed up. She can't help but wonder what Ron would think of her heels, mini-skirt, and straightened hair.
To put an end to overthinking, she taps on Ernie's door, holding her breath until she hears footsteps shuffling toward her from inside the apartment. Why isn't she more excited?
The door swings open, and Hermione takes a step back, blinking in surprise at the person before her.
"Oh. Draco. Hi."
"YES!" he exclaims, punching his tiny fist into the air. "You're so pretty!"
"Oh, thank you." He opens the door wider so Hermione can enter the apartment. "Is Ernie home?"
"Just you and me tonight!" he exclaims. "I'm making dragon food!"
Hold up. No Ernie? Ron gave her number to Draco?
"Just you and me?" she asks tentatively. Ron could NOT have thought she wanted to date Draco.
"When Ron told me you wanted my number, I was SO EXCITED! Look at you! You're like a nine point eight!"
"I'm a what?"
"Nine point eight out of ten!"
Is he rating her?
"What do you mean by that, Draco?" Her voice stiffens, and she hopes for his sake he doesn't ask her for his score on the scale.
"You're so pretty, but there's always room for improvement."
"Wow, that's uh. That's really rude—"
"Just kidding! You're perfect," he bellows, making her jump. Then, leaning in for a whisper, he says, "I can't wait to see your meat bar."
Then, even by his own standards, Draco does something odd. He drops to his stomach and starts slithering toward the kitchen like a snake. "What are you doing, Draco?"
"Do you know why they call me Dragon Claw?" he responds, ignoring her question.
"No, I don't."
With swift, child-like agility, Draco hops back to his feet, turns around, and lifts up the back of his shirt, exposing a sloppy, faded claw tattoo on his lower back. "I got this tattoo for free!"
"It's… very nice."
"When I do this," he says, arching his back to compress the tattoo "it's retracting the claw," and when I do this, he continues, tucking his hips to stretch the claw, "it's protracting. Like a dragon's claw. Do you see it?"
"Yes, yes I do, Draco."
Draco gyrates his hips a few more times for good measure. "Protracting. Retracting. Protracting. Retracting."
"Yep," says Hermione, fumbling into her pocket for her phone. She has a few words for a certain red-headed someone.
"Do you want to do something fun?"
"Um, sure," she mumbles, already distracted by her phone as sche scrolls for Ron's number.
"Okay!" Draco flops back on his stomach and army-crawls into his bedroom. "In here!"
"Be right there," she says as she types out her text to Ron.
'RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY. WHAT DID YOU DO?'
"Hermione!" says Draco from his bedroom.
She gives herself a second to calm down. She knows she should set Draco straight, but he doesn't seem to be the type to take rejection well. He's also so excited to be on a date — he probably doesn't go on many — and he might be devastated. She doesn't really want to hurt him, but she'd prefer it over joining him in the bedroom. This is all Ron's fault.
At the thought, her phone buzzes again. She glances at the text message to find it's from Ron — three simple emojis: a dragon, an eggplant, and a winky face.
Hermione takes a deep breath, preparing to straighten this out. She needs to let Draco down gently and get back home to the loft to give Ron a piece of her mind.
When she enters the bedroom, Draco has ditched his shirt and is sprawled out on the bed. "Do you know what gets me in the mood, Hermione?"
Hermione sighs — and shudders. "I can't say that I do, Draco. Look, I need to tell you s—"
"Visualization!" he squeals. "Close your eyes!"
"Draco—"
'Imagine you're on Mars," he starts. Hermione arches an eyebrow at him but his eyes are shut, and he's oblivious to her reaction. "You go to a magical school called Pigfarts."
"Pigfarts?"
"Yes, Pigfarts!"
"I don't want to go to a school called Pigfarts. Draco, we really need to—"
"I think you do, Hermione. It's the only way to meet Rumble Roar!"
"Draco, I need to tell you something," interrupts Hermione, but her curiosity wins her over. "Wait, who is Rumble Roar?"
Draco pats the bed covers next to him and whispers, "if you play your cards right, you'll find out soon enough."
No. This has to end. Now.
Hermione lets out a cough, giving it her best attempt to sound genuine. "Draco, I'm sick."
At her admission, he rises to a seat. "Oh no! My Mama Dragon's feeling under the weather?"
Mama Dragon?
"Yes. Yes, I am. I'm so sick. I don't want to spread anything to you so—"
"That's disappointing," says Draco, sliding off the bed. "I can get out my thermometer. I have a really accurate one."
"No, that's okay," she says, backing away from him. She doesn't want to think of what an accurate thermometer means. "I know my body, and I'm definitely running a fever. I should go."
"We can reschedule! Text me!" he says, moving toward her for an embrace, but Hermione's already halfway toward the front door.
"Yes, I'll text you!" she lies, grabbing her purse and jacket by the entry. She hurries out of the apartment and breathes a sigh of relief when the door swings shut.
x
Hermione runs into Ron, lounging on the living room sofa when she returns from her date. He appears to be the only one home, and at first, she's relieved that he's at the loft and not 'out,' whatever that entails.
But, her relief morphs into anger when he smirks at her and laughs through a mouthful of ice cream. "How was your date?"
"Shut up."
"Why? It didn't go well?" he presses, reaching for the remote control to pause the television and swinging his legs off of the coffee table.
"What do you think?" Hermione drops her purse on the entryway table and kicks off her shoes before storming toward her bedroom.
Ron follows, eyeing his watch. "Well, you're back a bit earlier than expected, so I'm assuming that you two didn't… you know… make dragon babies."
"I don't want to talk to you right now," she says, although she struggles to suppress a laugh, especially when Ron looks positively delighted.
"I'm honestly sorry it didn't work out," says Ron, taking a seat on her bed. "You two would have made a great couple." He props his High School Musical themed socks up onto the bed, and Hermione can't help but smile at how comfortable he seems there.
Attempting to mask her smile, Hermione narrows her eyes at him. "Why did you give Dragon Claw my number?"
"You asked me to," responds Ron matter-of-factly.
"I wanted you to give it to Ernie!" she exclaims, even though it's clear by Ron's smirk that he already knows this.
"Gross! Ernie's so lame! Why would you want to date him?" he whines. "You can do so much better, Hermione."
"I can do so much better? Like Dragon Claw?"
"Well, you could have, but I think you burned that bridge."
"He said I was a nine point eight out of ten because there's always room for improvement."
Ron laughs heartily. "Not quite good enough to meet Rumble Roar?"
"Get out!" says Hermione, pointing toward her bedroom door. How does he know about Rumble Roar? She shudders to imagine what kind of conversations Ron has in the back of the bar with his keg delivery men.
Sighing, Ron rises to his feet, and for a moment, Hermione laments the now empty space on her bed. "For the record," he says over his shoulder, "he wouldn't know a ten if it slapped him in the face."
Ron shuffles out the door, and in frustration, Hermione buries her face into her pillow and groans, the memory of Ron's teasing fresh on her mind.
Did he just call her a ten? She replays their last conversation in her head. He wouldn't know a ten if it slapped him in the face.
Just the thought of it makes her palms sweat and her heart rate spike, something that definitely didn't happen before when she was standing outside what she thought was Ernie's door.
No. He didn't mean to call her a ten.
That probably wasn't even about her, and it's better not to overthink it.
Thanks to Adenei, smjl, cheesyficwriter, and accio-broom for giving their time to beta this fic, and for being the best cheer-readers I could hope for!