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Summary
He hadn't seen her in years, and his reaction to her the last time they'd crossed paths had been understandably different considering they'd been standing on opposite sides of the aftermath of the final battle.
And yet, there she was.
And there he was, sporting a lot more than a semi at two in the afternoon, a potions text awkwardly shielding the tent in his trousers as she sized him up with those doe-like brown eyes.Months later, he had a dent in his Gringotts vault the size and shape of a library of interesting but superfluous books and more potions ingredients than he could use in a lifetime, all because he couldn't stay away from her.
And now the shop was empty.
Granger was nowhere to be seen, the blinds had been pulled, and the sign in the shop window had been flipped to display 'Closed' to the streets of Diagon.
How long had he been back there, hiding in the shelves and lost in his delusions? A glance to the clock above the door showed he'd overstayed closing by more than twenty minutes.Fuck.
He was just contemplating the wards and how to reset them after he'd exited - when a loud, low moan pierced through the silence in the shop. Hand halfway to the door, Draco froze.
Series
- Part 1 of After Hours