Draco arrived at the restaurant early. He had to make sure the table was in the best spot, or bribe the maître d' to move it. Thankfully, they had been given a two-seater booth along the wall. He thanked the waiter who seated him and sat down, nerves jangling.
Two weeks ago he had installed an app on his Muggle phone to, in Theo’s words, “finally stop moping and get a shag.” His betrothal to Astoria had ended well two years ago, but he still hadn’t felt the need to put himself out there. He’d mostly done it to shut Theo up.
He’d put a fake name and a faceless picture on the profile; still, he’d somehow gotten a few matches. None of them went anywhere until he matched with Jean. Her profile was faceless too, but she went straight in and asked what his favourite book was. He was pleased when he told her because she’d read it, and they spent a long evening messaging back and forth as they debated the themes.
She'd recently ended a long-term relationship, and they commiserated about their meddling friends forcing them to put themselves out there. He’d found himself smiling at his phone and waiting for it to buzz more and more.
She was sharp-witted and opinionated in a way that made his blood heat. It helped that her faceless photo showed a bit of curly brown hair; he'd always loved a brunette. His fantasies about her were running rampant, ignoring the fact that she often wore the face of a girl from school he didn’t like to think about. He had spoken to her every day for a week before he finally mustered the courage, courtesy of several fingers of Ogden's, to ask her out.
That led him to tonight; he sat in the booth, fiddling with the silverware beside him.
‘Table for Dan?’ a feminine voice asked from the front of the restaurant.
‘Right this way.’
Taking a deep breath, Draco twisted to stand and step out of the booth to meet Jean. He was struck dumb and grabbed the booth for support. Behind the waiter was a frozen woman, her brown, gold-flecked eyes widening as they beheld him. It was her. The secret forbidden fantasy of his teenage years. Hermione Granger.
‘Jean?’ he asked stupidly.
Her face shifted through several emotions before settling into a scowl.
‘Oh, very funny. Ha ha, you got your laugh. I hope it was worth it,’ she hissed, but her voice cracked on the last word. The waiter's brows went up, and he glanced nervously between them. Hermione was already spinning on her heel and stomping out the door.
Fuck.
‘Fuck.’ He said out loud. Then he pushed past the waiter to run after her.
Bursting into the darkened street, he saw that she was almost at the corner. His long legs eating up the distance, he shouted, ‘Granger!’
Thankfully, she paused, glared over her shoulder at him, and he could jog the rest of the way.
‘What?’ she snapped.
Out of breath, he stopped beside her. ‘Why-’ he gasped, ‘did you think it was a joke?’
Her frown deepened. ‘Because you tormented me for seven years?’
Guilt hit him in the chest. ‘Right. Of course.’
Her narrowed eyes surveyed him as he caught his breath. ‘I’m going to leave now.’ She started to turn away, and panic stabbed him.
‘Wait!’
‘Why?’
‘Because,’ he said as she looked back at him. He ran a hand through his hair, and she tracked the movement. ‘I’ve changed. I have a Muggle phone for Merlin’s sake! I enjoyed talking to you the past few weeks, and I meant to meet the woman behind the messages. So…’
Her brows shot up. ‘So?’
‘So, have dinner with me. Please. Let me grovel a bit. I’ll pay.’
‘Obviously,’ she drawled.
He chuckled. ‘Obviously.’ He offered her his arm, hoping she'd take it. She did.
Draco arrived at the restaurant early. He had to make sure the table was in the best spot, or bribe the maître d' to move it. Thankfully, they had been given a two-seater booth along the wall. He thanked the waiter who seated him and sat down, nerves jangling.
Two weeks ago he had installed an app on his Muggle phone to, in Theo’s words, “finally stop moping and get a shag.” His betrothal to Astoria had ended well two years ago, but he still hadn’t felt the need to put himself out there. He’d mostly done it to shut Theo up.
He’d put a fake name and a faceless picture on the profile; still, he’d somehow gotten a few matches. None of them went anywhere until he matched with Jean. Her profile was faceless too, but she went straight in and asked what his favourite book was. He was pleased when he told her because she’d read it, and they spent a long evening messaging back and forth as they debated the themes.
She'd recently ended a long-term relationship, and they commiserated about their meddling friends forcing them to put themselves out there. He’d found himself smiling at his phone and waiting for it to buzz more and more.
She was sharp-witted and opinionated in a way that made his blood heat. It helped that her faceless photo showed a bit of curly brown hair; he'd always loved a brunette. His fantasies about her were running rampant, ignoring the fact that she often wore the face of a girl from school he didn’t like to think about. He had spoken to her every day for a week before he finally mustered the courage, courtesy of several fingers of Ogden's, to ask her out.
That led him to tonight; he sat in the booth, fiddling with the silverware beside him.
‘Table for Dan?’ a feminine voice asked from the front of the restaurant.
‘Right this way.’
Taking a deep breath, Draco twisted to stand and step out of the booth to meet Jean. He was struck dumb and grabbed the booth for support. Behind the waiter was a frozen woman, her brown, gold-flecked eyes widening as they beheld him. It was her. The secret forbidden fantasy of his teenage years. Hermione Granger.
‘Jean?’ he asked stupidly.
Her face shifted through several emotions before settling into a scowl.
‘Oh, very funny. Ha ha, you got your laugh. I hope it was worth it,’ she hissed, but her voice cracked on the last word. The waiter's brows went up, and he glanced nervously between them. Hermione was already spinning on her heel and stomping out the door.
Fuck.
‘Fuck.’ He said out loud. Then he pushed past the waiter to run after her.
Bursting into the darkened street, he saw that she was almost at the corner. His long legs eating up the distance, he shouted, ‘Granger!’
Thankfully, she paused, glared over her shoulder at him, and he could jog the rest of the way.
‘What?’ she snapped.
Out of breath, he stopped beside her. ‘Why-’ he gasped, ‘did you think it was a joke?’
Her frown deepened. ‘Because you tormented me for seven years?’
Guilt hit him in the chest. ‘Right. Of course.’
Her narrowed eyes surveyed him as he caught his breath. ‘I’m going to leave now.’ She started to turn away, and panic stabbed him.
‘Wait!’
‘Why?’
‘Because,’ he said as she looked back at him. He ran a hand through his hair, and she tracked the movement. ‘I’ve changed. I have a Muggle phone for Merlin’s sake! I enjoyed talking to you the past few weeks, and I meant to meet the woman behind the messages. So…’
Her brows shot up. ‘So?’
‘So, have dinner with me. Please. Let me grovel a bit. I’ll pay.’
‘Obviously,’ she drawled.
He chuckled. ‘Obviously.’ He offered her his arm, hoping she'd take it. She did.