Chapter Text
Hermione thanked the waiter as he showed her to the table, willing the butterflies in her stomach to calm down. Normally she wasn’t the type to get nervous about dates, but well… it had been a while. First she had been at school, then she had been with Ron, and then for the longest time she simply got used to automatically rejecting anyone who asked to get a drink- not that there had really been all that many. So here she was, sitting in an intimate little Italian place in Diagon Alley wearing her highest heels, her boobiest bra and enough Sleekeezys in her hair to drown a medium sized child. All of this would be fine, but somehow she had allowed herself to be bullied by Ginny and Luna into participating in her most hated of all social customs; the blind date.
She tapped her fingernails absentmindedly on the empty wineglass in front of her, trying to distract herself by watching the other patrons. The restaurant was small, and there can’t have been more than twelve tables, but it was very busy. There was a big family party in the middle of the room, evidently someone was turning seventeen, a few more couples… shit, this wasn’t working. She was more nervous than ever. The family in the middle laughed uproariously suddenly, and a few people who had been standing sat down, revealing the table at the other side of the room.
“Shit…” she muttered under her breath.
Just what she needed. Draco Malfoy. Ugh.
She stared forwards, trying to subtly cover her face with her hair. He never missed an opportunity to make fun of her, whether it was a snarky comment about her hair or a derisive laugh at her contribution to the discussion. At the very least she tended to give as good as she got, but working in the same department as that man was exhausting. The only thing more stressful than Draco Malfoy was-
Oh god… the only thing more stressful than Draco Malfoy was walking through the door.
Bradley Dunn. God, she hated him. He talked over her, even though she was technically his boss (insofar as she higher up in the Ministry hierarchy than him, anyway), he blatantly rolled his eyes whenever he disagreed with her, and more than once she had caught him attempting to rank the women in the office by bra size with his pathetic little friends. He’d never done anything bad enough to warrant actual censure, but she really hated him, and- Oh, oh shit the maitre d’ was pointing at her table. Oh shit.
No, there was no way in hell she was sitting through a whole date with that- that pus-filled blister of a man. Thinking fast, she stood up abruptly, her eyes downcast so that her hair obscured her face as much as possible. Her first plan had been to go straight to the ladies’ room, but a waitress had already started showing Bradley to the table, and she’d run right into him if she went that way. Nothing else for it. She skirted the large family party, keeping her head down until she got to Malfoy’s table. She was vaguely aware of him looking up and making a small, surprised noise, but she ignored him and sat down as quickly as possible, snatching the menu from in front of him and shamelessly hiding behind it.
“Granger,” he drawled, and when she peeked over the top of the menu she saw that he was watching her with mingled annoyance and amusement, one pale brow arched.
“Malfoy,” she muttered.
“What are you doing, Granger?” he asked, infuriatingly calm as if he was speaking to a toddler.
“Just give me a minute, Malfoy, I’m-”
“You know what, I’ve decided that I don’t care. You have ten seconds to move or I will make the scene that you are so obviously trying to avoid.”
“You wouldn’t.” She hissed.
“Wouldn’t I?”
They stared at each other for a moment, cool contempt radiating from him as she tried to subtly angle her face away from the table where Bradley was now sitting alone. She let out a huff of desperate frustration. From one hell to another.
“Come on, Malfoy, this is life or death,” she said, opting for hyperbole instead of the sad truth.
“I choose death.” He said coolly.
“Don’t tempt me…” she muttered, and she thought she saw his lip twitch over the top of the menu. God, he was annoying, but strange though it sounded, she didn’t hate him anymore, not really, which was more than she could say for Bradley. She sighed to herself.
“Fine, fine, I take pity on you,” said Malfoy, now blatantly smirking. He signalled to a waiter, and a few seconds later another menu and a second wine glass materialised on the table in front of him.
“Pity?!” she spluttered, but he ignored her.
“So let me guess,” he said lazily, leaning back in his chair and looking at his menu. “Blind date?”
“Oh for- is it really that obvious?”
“Well, since Bradley fucking Dunn is sitting at your table, and you’re here hiding behind a menu, I think I can put two and two together.”
“Ugh,”
“Quite.”
Neither of them said anything for several seconds.
“Really, Granger? A blind date?”
“Well, why not?” she sniffed, and he let out a small snort of laughter.
“I’d have thought they’d be queueing up to wine and dine the almighty Hermione Granger,”
“Maybe I wasn’t interested in the queue.” She said lightly, “Maybe the sort of person who would queue up to wine and dine me just because of my name isn’t who I want to be having dinner with.”
“You are aware the sort of person you’re having dinner with instead?” he asked dryly.
“Painfully aware.”
“I suppose I can’t deny that I would be the last person to queue up just to see you of all people, Granger.”
“You’re just the lesser evil right now, Malfoy,” she muttered, glancing carefully to her right. Bradley already had a half-finished pint in front of him, and didn’t appear to be bothered in the slightest that his date was so late.
“I wouldn’t worry about him, Granger,” said Malfoy, following her gaze, “He’ll just keep groping passing waitresses until one of them doesn’t punch him.”
“Charming.”
“Indeed.”
“Even so though, I really shouldn’t just stand him up… right?”
“Granger I’m sure you’ll agree that I am the last person to be giving advice to you; one third of the wizarding world’s great moral compass.”
“Oh, shut up,” she said, swatting half-heartedly at him with her menu. His lip curled.
Another few minutes of silence, eventually broken by the waiter coming to take their orders.
“What are you doing here then?” asked Hermione as the waiter sped off.
“Er, having dinner?” he said, gesturing pointedly at the cutlery laid out in front of them.
“Don’t be dense, Malfoy, I know that much. I just mean- I didn’t ruin your date, did I?”
“I’m not here on a date, Granger. I don’t know why people get so weird about having dinner alone, is it a muggle thing?”
“I- I’m not sure,” she said, nodding in thanks to the waiter as he returned to fill her wine glass.
“Well, in any case, I daresay there are worse ways to spend an evening than having dinner with an old enemy.”
“I’m flattered.” She said flatly, taking a large gulp of wine.
He snorted, then sat up in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him.
“So,” he said brightly, giving her a toothy smile, “What are your bullet points?”
“My- what?”
“Please, Granger, I’d be surprised if you didn’t have a detailed to-do list when you take a shower. You’re not seriously telling me that you walked into a blind date with no plan at all?”
Goddamn it, he was right.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” he said, smirking. Hermione glared at him, which only appeared to amuse him more.
“I didn’t write it down or anything,” she said haughtily.
“I knew it. Go on then, do share.”
“And why should I-?”
“You’re the one who rudely invited yourself to my table, Granger,” he said, wagging a patronising finger at her, “The least you can do is humour me.”
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth, glancing once again to her previous table. Bradley had a second pint now. “Well, I was going to- assuming we didn’t know each other of course- I was going to ask about their family-”
“Well, I’m an only child,” he said, cutting her off, “My parents live in Wiltshire, and-”
“Malfoy, what are you doing?”
“Answering your question,” he said innocently- or at least as close to innocently as he, being Draco Malfoy, could manage.
“Why?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Why not?”
“Well for one thing, I already know about your family, a little too much, don’t you think?”
“Mhmm, that’s fair. I’ll spare you the family tree then. What else?”
“Why do you care?”
“Oh come on, Granger, humour me, where’s the harm?”
She opened her mouth, then shut it again. She felt like she should be able to answer that question immediately, but right at this moment she really couldn’t see the harm. She took another sip of wine.
“Fine. Ok, what are you really good at?”
“Everything. Next question.”
“Including modesty, clearly,”
“Clearly.”
She smiled, and for a moment it felt as if the air between them was electric. She frowned slightly. What the-
“Come on Granger, next question.”
He was smiling at her like a Cheshire cat, and for some infuriating reason it was making her cheeks flush. God, she hated it when he put her on the spot like this. Yes, that would be it.
“Ok,” she said carefully, though she was having an unexpectedly difficult time keeping her train of thought. Must be the wine. “Um, what was the last book you read?”
“You’d have had a hard time with Bradley with that one,” scoffed Malfoy, shaking his head incredulously and taking a large gulp of wine, “I assume the last book he read had big letters and pictures. Probably dirty pictures.”
“Don’t be an arsehole, Malfoy,” she said vaguely.
“Why on earth not?” he chuckled, “Does your good opinion of me hang in the balance? Oh, how I’d hate for you to think badly of me. Woe is me.”
“You are so annoying.”
“And yet, you’re still here.”
“I-” she started speaking, but stopped abruptly. She was still here. Why was she still here? Bradley had clearly given up on waiting for her, and as Malfoy had said, he didn’t seem too bothered. She should go. “Malfoy,” she said, clutching her handbag on her lap, “I should-”
And it was then that the waiter returned with their food.
“Good timing,” said Malfoy quietly, as if he had read her mind.
“Yeah,” she mumbled.
Well…
One dinner, what was the harm?