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“You want another one, “Mione?” Seamus asked as he came by her seat at the bar, an empty pint glass in his hand that he quickly filled with a butterbeer from the tap.
“I’m still working on this, thanks Seamus,” Hermione said, barely looking up from her half-empty fire whisky as she swirled the glass around. She checked her watch again and sighed. She was supposed to meet her date here twenty minutes ago, but he was yet to show up. She considered giving up on it about five minutes ago, but he had confirmed with her that morning that they’d still meet at the Leaky Cauldron at six, and she’d been looking forward to a couple hours of not drowning in work.
Quickly, she drained the rest of her drink and slid the glass up the bar. Clearly, she’d been stood up, and if she sat here any longer alone, Seamus would probably catch on, and he’d tell Dean. Dean would likely tell Pavarti, Parvati would say something to Ginny, and Ginny would tell Ron and Harry.
And Hermione just couldn’t live with the guys finding out she’d been stood-up again .
Someone slid into the stool next to her, and she looked over, ready to scold Evan for making her wait. But the words caught in her throat when she was met with a familiar blonde, rather than her planned company for the evening.
“I’ll have what she’s having, when you have a chance Finnegan,” Draco Malfoy said, shrugging his jacket off and settling into the bar stool. “And one more for Granger too, on my tab.”
“I can get my own drink, Draco,” Hermione said flatly. What was he doing here?
“Consider it my apology for being late,” he said. “I really am sorry, things got crazy at work.” Hermione gave him a look of confusion, but shrugged and looked over to Seamus, nodding when he put another fire whisky in front of her.
When he was gone, Hermione turned to Draco, “What are you doing here?” she asked. In the last few years since the war well and truly ended, Draco and some of his other Slytherin friends had started to come out of their shells created by their conservative family lines. Draco especially had become a lot more pleasant to be around after his first year training as a Medi-Wizard at St. Mungo's, a decision that shocked a lot of people but not Hermione. She wouldn’t say that she, Harry, and Ron had exactly become friends with Draco, but they were at minimum, friendly.
That still didn’t clarify why he decided to show up beside her at the bar and buy her a drink.
“Having a drink,” Draco said, sipping at his whiskey for a moment. When she barely even blinked, he sighed. “I overheard Evan Millar in the break room this evening saying he was exhausted from his shift and was heading home to sleep for the next twenty-four hours.”
“Oh,” Hermione said, feeling foolish, maybe he forgot about their date after all. She should have known this would potentially happen, going on a date with a Healer and all.
“Yeah,” Draco said. “I remembered him saying earlier that he had plans with you tonight, when I asked about it, he said “she’s smart, she’ll figure it out.”
“Oh,” Hermione said again, feeling her face grow red.
“Thus, I’m here,” Draco said, clinking his glass with hers. “I figured drinks with me is maybe slightly better than being stood-up.”
“Just slightly,” Hermione said good-naturedly, and Draco smirked. “Well, thank you for coming,” she said awkwardly.
“Millar’s a tosser anyway,” Draco said with a shrug. “He’s barely a Healer at best, everyone in cosmetic alteration healing is.”
“Right, because the Healers in Emergency Medicine are all saints,” she gestured to him with her drink. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with using Medi-Magic to touch up appearances. It doesn't make the Healer that practices a prat.”
“Ah right,” Draco shook his head, still smirking. “I remember someone using Madame Pomfrey to help her shrink her front teeth during our fourth year.”
“Then you may also recall that I had to shrink my teeth because someone cursed me in the hallway,” Hermione shot back. Draco grimaced. “Mhmm, I think you’re going to have to owe me another drink for that one, Malfoy.”
“I think if we’re exchanging drinks for school-aged hexes,” Draco reached behind the bar and grabbed the whiskey bottle out of the well in front of them. “We’re going to need the whole bottle.”
#
Hermione was laughing, one hand clutching her stomach, the other holding onto Draco’s shoulder. Draco was laughing as well, his cheeks red and wiping a tear from his eye.
“So the big oaf comes back, not ten minutes after I gave him very clear instructions on which potion is for hair growth and which is for boils, and you know what he did?”
“He came back a third time?” she asked.
“He came back a THIRD TIME! Man was covered in hairy boils this time. I made him sit in the waiting room in shame for twenty minutes before I gave him the antidote.” He was laughing as he tipped the bottle of whiskey over Hermione’s glass, but only a drop was left. “Oops.” Hermione giggled and covered her face.
“Yeah I’m putting that bottle on Malfoy’s tab,” Seamus said, shaking his head. Draco scowled at him as he reached into his pocket and put a handful of coins on the counter. Seamus looked it over, shrugged, and collected the coins. “You two good to get home? You’re both too drunk to Apparate.”
“‘m not too far,” Hermione said, her words slurring. Her flat was only a few blocks away in Muggle London. She looked over at Draco who was rubbing his face with his hands. “You can Floo from my flat if you need?”
“Yeah, that’ll be good,” he said. They waved goodbye to an amused Seamus and together they stumbled out of the bar, Draco tripping over the doorstep twice before Hermione looped her arm around his waist and he slung an arm around her shoulders and they made their way down the quiet streets of London at two in the morning.
“I didn’t realize it got so late,” Hermione said, looking up at the night sky for a bit. She had really only intended on having one or two drinks, even when she was supposed to meet Evan for their date. It was Friday night and she wasn’t expected to go into work tomorrow, but she had intended to spend the weekend catching up on new legislative reports that had been written this week in order to prepare the Wizengamot member she worked for.
But now it seems like she’ll be spending the better part of the weekend nursing a hangover.
Great.
“Yeah, good thing Finnegan ordered us some food,” Draco rubbed the back of his head. “Did we really polish off a whole bottle of Fire Whiskey?”
“I’m pretty sure it was closer to two,” Hermione said with a giggle, pressing her face into Draco’s shoulder. He hugged her a little tighter to him as they walked, using each other as support when they stumbled over their own feet. “I can’t remember the last time I drank like that,” she admitted. It was probably Ginny’s hen party, but even then, Hermione spent more time making sure Ginny didn’t keel over from drinking too much.
“Me neither,” Draco admitted. “It was fun though.”
“Yeah it was,” Hermione nodded in agreement. She turned them down a quiet residential street. “I’m this one,” she pointed to a townhouse in the middle of the road with blue siding and a flower box full of daisies in the window. Draco let her step away as she pulled out her wand and tapped on the third post of the gate twice - a little charm to keep intruders away - and then she pulled the gate open. Draco shivered when she stepped away, and he was sure it was because of the cold. It certainly wasn’t related to the warmth he felt when she took his hand and brought him up the front stairs to her front door.
“Just a moment,” she said, fiddling with her keys. “I always think I was brilliant to make my door lock uncharmable so that people can’t break in, and then I never get the key to work right.”
“You are brilliant,” Draco said without even thinking. Hermione smiled and her cheeks turned red. She fumbled with the key, trying to get it into the lock, but her drunken state had her missing it completely. After a few attempts, Draco stepped closer, his chest to her back. “Here,” he said, taking her hand in his and guiding the key into the lock.
Hermione’s breath hitched at the contact and of course with Draco’s help, the key worked on the first try, letting them into the flat.
“My hero,” Hermione teased, stepping away reluctantly so that they could enter the flat. The walk in the cool air had cleared her head a little bit, but she could still feel the light and airy feeling of the alcohol running through her system. “I’ll get the fire going in a moment so you can floo,” she said to him as she hung up her coat on the hook by the door and slipped out of her shoes. “Do you want anything to drink first? Water? Tea?”
What he wanted, Draco realized, was to keep talking with Hermione. Tonight was fun, and even though he was still a little dizzy and warm from the drink, he wanted to be here with her, picking up where they left off at the bar.
“I should probably…” he gestured to the fireplace.
“Oh! Of course,” Hermione said, sounding just the slightest bit disappointed as she made her way to the fireplace to get the fire going. “Do you work tomorrow?”
“I have the weekend off,” Draco said. “Which is fortunate, because that’s how long it’ll take for all of this whiskey to get out of my system.” Hermion smirked at him over her shoulder.
“I did warn you about keeping up with me drinking,” she teased. “I learned from the Weasleys.”
“I’ll never challenge you again,” he held up his hands in defeat which seemed to appease her. She stood up from the fire with his help and brushed soot off of her hands and sleeves before grabbing a terracotta pot off the mantle.
“Thank you again,” Hermione said, handing the pot of Floo Powder to him. “For joining me tonight. I really appreciate the rescue.”
“You, Hermione Granger, hardly need rescuing,” Draco said. “But all the same, I enjoyed tonight.”
“Me too,” she said quietly. Draco took the top off the jar and grabbed a handful of powder. Before stepping into the fireplace, he looked up to Hermione and let the moment sit there for a bit and sink in.
When it’d become just a moment too long, she asked “What is it?”
“Evan’s a tosser,” he said quietly.
“So you’ve said,” she said back, her voice just as low.
“You deserve someone who’ll treat you better than that,” Draco said. Hermione’s eyes widened just a little more as she looked up at him.
“Oh?” she asked, “You have someone in mind?” Draco took a step closer to her, still gripping a handful of Floo Powder while she still held the pot. Slowly, Draco put the powder back into the pot and took the whole thing out of her hands, placing it gently back on the mantle.
“Yeah I’ve got an idea,” he said as he turned back to her. Hermione moved the moment Draco’s hands were free and grabbed the front of his shirt. Draco stumbled slightly but caught himself right before Hermione planted a kiss right on his lips.
Instinctively, Draco’s hands rested on Hermione’s hips as he leaned into the kiss. He hummed happily, deepening the kiss as Hermione’s hands slid up from where they grabbed the front of his shirt and wrapped around his neck.
It was ages before they finally pulled apart. Draco kept his eyes closed and he pressed his forehead to Hermione’s.
“Oh good, we’re on the same page then,” Hermione said quietly and amused. Draco let out a laugh and pulled her a bit closer to him.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m very glad you got stood up tonight,” Draco said, smirking a little.
“Same here,” Hermione said. She leaned up to kiss him again, and as she did, Draco could smell the whiskey on both of their breaths. With a heavy reluctancy, he kissed her back quickly and then stepped away.
“I should go,” Draco said, his heart slamming against his chest.
“Or you could stay,” Hermione offered and it took every ounce of willpower Draco had not to agree with her and sweep her off her feet and carry her to her bedroom.
“We’ve been drinking,” Draco said, and she sighed, agreeing with a little nod.
“I hate that you’re right,” she said, also taking a small step back.
“What can I say, I’m a gentleman,” Draco shrugged. He turned back to the Floo Powder pot and took a handful again before turning back to her. “If I’m going to stay the night, I want it to at least be after I properly take a woman out on a date.”
“I’m guessing stepping in on someone else’s date doesn’t count then?” Hermione asked, giving him a sly smile.
“Absolutely not,” Draco said. He looked at her hopefully, the memory of their kiss still playing in his mind. “So, what are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night?”
“I can pick you up at six, we’ll have dinner,” he said. “Drinks if we can stomach it,” he smirked.
“Six is good,” Hermione said, her face bright red. Draco smiled and swooped in, kissing her once more before stepping away into her fireplace.
“It’s a date then,” Draco said. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow,” Hermione said, her hand on her cheek as Draco released the Floo Powder and vanished from sight. When he was gone, she dropped into the closest chair and covered her face with a pillow, overcome with a giddy excitement she hadn’t felt in years.
After all this, she might have to buy Evan Millar flowers to thank him for standing her up.