Work Text:
To say Hermione Granger was anxious to have agreed to a blind date was quite a bit of an understatement. She sighed, swirling the water in her glass before glancing at the door a measly seventh time in the last minute alone.
Truthfully, since her last short-term boy toy the year prior Hermione hadn't given dating much of a thought. She was extremely focused on her career and with her upcoming centaur legislation coming up in the Wizengamot she had to have her wits about her. It was only last week when an official-looking letter came from Hogwarts that made Hermione pause to consider Ginny's long-standing offer to set her up with one of her Quidditch mates. Her 10-year Hogwarts Reunion was next month and she found the entire notion unsettling. Ten years? Of course she'd realized time had passed but had it truly been ten years since she'd walked the Hogwarts walls as an academic? Studied for exams? Kept Harry and Ron from getting into too much trouble? Mostly, anyways.
And for ten years...what did she really have to show for it? Sure, she'd worked extremely hard in her career and some of the legislation had even come to a vote in the Wizengamot but in her personal life, there was really nothing to write home about. Ron had been married, had a daughter, and divorced, Harry and Ginny were talking about trying for a third. Her two best friends had promising careers in the Auror department...and what did she have? Wrist problems from writing drafts and a cat older than the Hallows themselves. Other than drinks with friends every month and the occasional time Ginny dragged her out, Hermione really didn't do much of anything. It had been a startling realization that led to a feverish Owl to her redheaded friend. All this amounted to Hermione tensely waiting for an unnamed gentleman to walk into the restaurant wearing a red rose on his lapel.
A mysterious gentleman, at that. Hermione had specifically requested Gin not tell her the identity of her suitor. Her only stipulation, in fact, was a man who enjoyed a good book. She figured that would narrow down her friend's teammates quite substantially. Of course Hermione really couldn't claim to know much of anything about the Falmouth Falcons team these days as she usually volunteered to watch James and Albus during the games so that Harry could support Gin. The way she saw it, it was a win-win. No forced encounters with Quidditch and bonus time with her favorite nephews.
Of course, she supposed it wouldn't have hurt to ask Harry who some of Gin's teammates were...was McLaggen still on the team? Hermione internally grimaced. Merlin, she hoped not.
Lost in her thoughts, Hermione almost missed the next person to walk in the door. But once she clocked the hair, he was hard to miss. Draco Malfoy swaggered into the restaurant as if he'd owned the whole the damn block. My, had the years been good to him.
Hermione did a subtle once over from her place tucked in the corner. He seemed to have ditched the hair gel from his youth and now wore his fair hair long and tucked behind an ear. Same pointy features but she noticed his face had softened, whether from age or experience one couldn't be sure. And Malfoy was fit to boot. Hadn't he been more...gangly? But that wasn't the most shocking part, no. Rather it was the small red rose on his expensive Muggle formalwear that caught her attention.
"I'm going to sodding kill Ginerva."
"Sorry, miss, did you need you something?" A member of the waitstaff was giving her an odd look and Hermione would've been embarrassed if she wasn't currently plotting how to murder her friend.
"No, thank you." She gave a weak smile as the man turned towards another table.
"Causing trouble then, Granger?"
Her head whipped around to find Malfoy seating himself across from her. "Malfoy what are-"
He was smirking. "Should've known it'd been you all along stirring up trouble in our formative years." He gestured towards a waitress to bring out a bottle of wine. "Are you a fan of reds?" Malfoy fingered his chin as he perused what she assumed to be a wine list.
"Malfoy..." She observed him carefully. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"Well Granger, I'm on a date." His brow twitched in mischief.
"With...me?" She was dumbfounded. Had Ginny really set her up with Draco Malfoy of all people? And he had actually agreed to it?
"I do believe the rose you're wearing suggests that, yes." He gestured to the twin red rose pinned to her dress.
"I-" Malfoy's entire demeanor from his formal posture to the casual way his fingers drummed the table suggested that yes, she had found herself on a date with Draco Malfoy of all things.
"I didn't know it was possible." Her brows furrowed. "You, speechless."
Her body stiffened immediately. If this was some sort of cruel joke, which Hermione was beginning to suspect it was, she certainly wasn't going to sit here and be harassed all night. "Well, as entertaining as I'm sure this would have been..." She made to stand.
"Granger...come on. I hadn't meant it like that." She narrowed her eyes. "You're always so focused, it's odd to see you-"
"Annoyed?"
He rolled his eyes. "No, I recall that quite well." He paused. "Anything but sure of herself."
She sat back down. While it wasn't her first conversation with him since their school days, it certainly had been the lengthiest thus far. Albeit he had sent a rather lengthy apology several years back. The Malfoy family, as several other older families, had a permanent seat in the high court of Wizarding law and when Lucius made his final trip to Azkaban Draco had taken up his seat. Thus, she'd seen him on and off several times over the years...but never more than for a 'how do you do?' and a 'it's a bit chilly out'. His seat was mostly for show but the familial votes were still required to be filled during a full-court assembly when new legislation was presented and voted on.
"So you're voting to pass my legislation then?"
His smirk was wide. "Depends if your argument is convincing enough."
Hermione rose a brow in challenge as she accepted the wine pour of their server. "I believe you're the one who said I was focused." He didn't shy away from her gaze. "In fact, since we're both here I'd be happy to lay out the finer points of why the forest restrictions for centaurs need to be lifted and a representative should go personally to speak with the Northern clan regarding their concerns over deforestation and-"
"This your plan to get me into bed Granger?" She almost responded with something scathing before noticing the uptick of his mouth. "Rant about archaic laws until I fall asleep?"
She blinked. "Archaic?"
He snorted before taking a sip of his wine. Red, she noticed. "Why do you think I show up to every Wizengamot assembly? The Ministry needs some new ideas and if I have to show up to vote on every new wallpaper selection or bloody undersecretary so be it."
She stared at him. This was not at all what she expected from Draco Malfoy, not that she really considered him much at all before. He wanted things...to change?
"Have I surprised you?" And apparently he was a mind-reader as well. Bloody fabulous.
"Intrigued, more accurately." She hastily took a sip of wine to hide her blush. Was she flirting now? Merlin, she'd Avada Ginny the next time she saw her...
"You flatter me." The look he sent her did nothing to calm the crimson rising to her face. What on earth? This was Malfoy she was speaking to, Malfoy!
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"
He gave her a look. "I thought we'd already established we were on a date."
"I'm serious." And flabbergasted, no doubt. "Gin offer you a chance out of reserves for this or something?" She tried for nonchalant, swirling the wine in her glass.
"Reserves?" He gave her an odd look. "Granger, when's the last time you watched a match?" As much as she'd rather not have to admit not knowing something to Malfoy no less, she really didn't have much of a leg to stand on when it came to her working Quidditch expertise.
"Er-it's been a while."
"A while..." He shook his head. "I'm a Chaser, first string mind you." She at least knew what that meant.
"Congratulations." Her voice was void of emotion and Malfoy smirked.
"Coming up on six years now." That caught her attention. Surely, Gin would have mentioned something like that...right? Or had Hermione really tuned everything out once someone brought up a broomstick?
"That's...erhm, very nice." Malfoy laughed earnestly and it shook her out whatever stupor she'd been in.
"You're a breath of fresh air, Granger."
"You uh-played Seeker though, didn't you? In school?" There, she wasn't completely useless however much she felt that way trying to hide her reaction to the unexpected compliment. Since when did Malfoy pay her compliments?
"Ten points to Gryffindor." Screw it, she was intrigued. If only for a measly blind date, he'd certainly gotten her attention. "That was mostly for Potter's sake, rivals and all that." He smirked but it was without malice. "I'm more of a Chaser's build, anyways. Lean, sharp." He flexed and her eyes were immediately drawn to his biceps. She fleetingly wondered why he didn't wear such tight Muggle button-ups in the Ministry more often. "Our Seeker, Beautron is far more flighty than I am. Quick too. But enough of that, you're obviously not much of a fan." She blinked having been staring at his arms a tad too long. Merlin, when had she become such a pansy? "Tell me, what does the Brightest Witch of her age get up to in her free time?" Malfoy casually sipped at his wine, both having just ordered.
"I have a cat." She regretted the words almost immediately.
"I see." Malfoy's eyes were full of mirth. "And does this cat of yours seem to take up much of your time?"
“No...sorry, that's not-" She was struggling to keep all her thoughts sorted. "I work a lot. More than a lot, I'm afraid. I'm extremely dedicated to my causes." He nodded.
"I can tell."
"And what does that mean?" She couldn't help but immediately be defensive of her work. Hermione's zeal for reform had already been the butt of several jokes behind closed doors, and she certainly didn't need to add any fuel to that fire.
"I'm at every assembly, Granger. I've heard your presentations. You could rattle even the most ancient of purebloods to support a cause. In fact, your defense of the the...hmm, was it the education fund for families with Squibs? Brilliant. I'm quite certain the bloke next to me was applauding halfway through." She tilted her head.
"Is that why you agreed to this-" she gestured towards the table. "My way with words?" Hermione watched as Malfoy blinked and leaned back in his seat. It would have been considered uncouth by anyone else in the formal setting, but she had a feeling Malfoy was perfectly at ease in stifling affairs.
"Wouldn't you like to know." And to her great surprise, Malfoy winked. Not the kind of satisfying answer she'd been hoping for then, splendid. Not that she really expected as much.
"You're not going to confess some sort of torch you'd been holding for me the last several years are you?" His expression remained unchanged as their meals were served.
"I can if you'd like." He wriggled his eyebrows and it took Hermione great pains not to laugh. Malfoy had a sense of humor. She filed that bit of information away to mull over later.
"Absolutely ridiculous." She moved with gusto as she dived into her pasta.
"A yes, 'a way with words'"
She smiled despite herself. "Eat your damn lobster, Malfoy."
The fork he'd been raising towards his mouth stopped halfway. "Still bossy as ever I see." She had to fight the urge to stick her tongue out.
"Get used to it." Hermione tucked into her meal not thoroughly registering what she'd said. Malfoy's bemused expression was almost entirely lost on her.
"You've asked me...but why did you agree to this Granger?" She briefly raised a brow before taking another bite. "Obviously you hadn't known it was me, thank you by the way for not bolting immediately."
She snorted. "I considered it." He shook his head in mirth. "But I-" she coughed "thought it was time to get out there. Work takes up so much time. And Gin can be a bloody nuisance when she wants to be."
He smirked at her. "I'd second that."
Hermione studied the man in front of her. How odd was it that her and Malfoy were having dinner together and she wasn't hating it. In fact...she could arguably say she was enjoying herself. "You uh, date much?"
"Feeling out the competition are you, Granger?" His brows were wriggling again.
"You're a prick." She rolled her eyes before picking up her wine glass.
He shrugged. "Been called worse." She caught his eye briefly before averting her eyes. "But no, not usually. You're a rare exception."
"Me too." She paused. "To both."
He looked at her quizzically before setting down his fork entirely. "I'm sorry for that, I hope you know. The names you've been called. That I've called you." She nodded, surprised at the seriousness in his tone.
"I know, I received your letter." It had truthfully been the most beautifully written letter Hermione had ever received. His apology seven years prior had been earnest, contrite, and honest. She'd even made a point to send an Owl back.
"I'm trying to do some good in the world, reform the Ministry from within. Do better these days." He picked up his fork again and she followed suit.
"Well, excellent luck that promising new legislation regarding centaur rights is to be presented before the Wizengamot next week." A peace offering, of sorts.
He smirked. "Yes, excellent luck." Beat. "Albeit quite Slytherin of you."
She hid her smile by taking a bite of the pasta. "I wouldn't know what you mean." Their eyes met briefly and it warmed her insides.
"You er, hate Quidditch don't you?" She blinked before raising a brow.
"Hate is quite a strong word, Malfoy."
He smirked. "So you wouldn't hate to come to our upcoming game then? Say Friday?" She gave Malfoy a once-over. They hadn't even finished dinner and here he was presumptuously asking her on what was most likely a second date. A date that required watching her least favorite sport, no less.
"Does that invitation include dinner? Say, someone Muggle?" Challenge, Malfoy?
He rose a perfectly sculpted brow. "Obviously." 10 points to Slytherin.
She made a point of looking thoughtful. "What's your Quidditch number?"
His expression was unreadable. "8"
"Well at least I know what jersey to wear, then." His smirk was infectious and Hermione found a matching one growing on her face as well.
The mischievous look in his eyes had her squirming. "I'd lend you one."
"Please do." Hermione was already picturing a shirtless Malfoy post-match gleaming in sweat.
Maybe she wouldn't need to kill Ginny after all.
Fin.