Hermione's POV
The morning passed quickly, with Aunt Gertie bustling around the house, insisting that we needed to get out and do something fun.
"You two have been working yourselves too hard," she said over breakfast, stirring sugar into her tea. "You're young, and you need to live a little. Let's go out tonight—get some food, maybe do an activity."
I hesitated, my mind immediately going to the risk.
Draco, however, looked intrigued. "An activity?"
"Bowling," Aunt Gertie suggested with a grin. "It's fun. Muggle thing. Ever tried it?"
Draco shot me a look. "I don't even know what that means."
I smirked. "Oh, you're going to love this."
⸻
We agreed, but precautions had to be taken.
Before leaving, we both applied simple disguises—subtle glamour charms to alter our appearances just enough. Draco darkened his hair again, and I shifted the shape of my nose slightly. We dressed casually—jeans, sweaters, and scarves to blend in with the crowd.
When we finally stepped outside, the crisp evening air hit my skin, a welcome contrast to the warmth of the house. It had been too long since I had done something normal. Something that didn't involve running, hiding, or surviving.
For the first time in months, I wanted to enjoy myself.
And—Merlin help me—I wanted to see Draco Malfoy try to bowl.
⸻
Dinner was surprisingly fun.
We ate at a small, cozy restaurant that served the best garlic bread I'd had in ages. Draco, to my amusement, was fascinated by the Muggle payment system.
"They just… tap the card, and that's it?" he asked, watching my aunt pay the bill.
Aunt Gertie chuckled. "Yes, Draco. Welcome to modern technology."
He huffed. "Ridiculous. Wizards could easily come up with something like this."
"But they haven't," I pointed out smugly.
He scowled but said nothing.
After dinner, we headed to the bowling alley—a loud, colorful place filled with families and groups of friends. The neon lights, the crashing sounds of pins, the scent of popcorn—it was a completely different world from what we were used to.
Draco looked completely lost.
"So," I said, grabbing a bowling ball, "the goal is to roll this down the lane and knock over as many pins as possible."
Draco frowned. "That's it?"
I grinned. "Sounds simple, doesn't it?"
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "It should be."
It wasn't.
Draco's first attempt was a disaster. He rolled the ball too hard, sending it clattering sideways into the gutter.
I burst out laughing, unable to help myself.
His glare was deadly. "It was a practice shot."
"Sure, Malfoy," I teased.
He grumbled but quickly became determined to master the game. By the fourth round, he had actually gotten better—and, of course, he smirked every time he knocked over more pins than me.
We ended up laughing more than competing, making sarcastic jabs at each other, enjoying something we hadn't had in a long time—lightness.
For a night, we weren't running.
For a night, we weren't hiding.
For a night, we were just… us.
⸻
As we walked back to my aunt's house under the glow of the streetlights, the night air cool and crisp, something felt different.
Draco had been watching me all night—little glances, small smiles. And I had noticed.
Maybe I had been noticing for a while.
We stopped in front of the house, the quiet settling around us, our breath visible in the cold air.
And then—he moved closer.
I barely had time to react before his fingers brushed against my cheek, before he leaned in, his lips pressing softly against mine.
My heart stopped.
For a brief, dizzying moment, I didn't pull away.
The kiss was hesitant but real—warm, uncertain, something else entirely.
Then reality slammed back into me.
I pulled away sharply, my breath catching.
Draco's expression flickered with something—hurt, maybe, or disappointment—but he masked it quickly.
"Hermione—"
"I—I need to go inside," I said quickly, stepping back.
His jaw tightened slightly, but he nodded. "Right. Of course."
I turned and hurried up the steps, my heart pounding too fast.
What the hell just happened?
And why, despite everything, did some part of me wish I hadn't pulled away?