Draco had decided to venture in Diagon Alley for a day of idle shopping, peaceful people watching and general time-wasting. It had been some time since he had left Malfoy Manor, and he didn't want people to start talking, which he knew they would anyway. The longer he left it, the more people would talk, and the more they'd through side-long glances at him and whisper behind their hands to companions. They'd create elaborate fabrications as to why he wasn't out, and he couldn't have that. A Malfoy never showed weakness.
Draco was in Flourish and Blotts when he saw a familiar, bushy head of hair beside the bookshelf next to him. He hesitated, reluctant to have to confront her. He snapped Quidditch Through The Ages shut and prepared to leave the shop without being noticed, but it was too late. Hermione had heard the book close and turned around. Giving him a small smile, she put her book back on the shelf.
“Granger.” He nodded curtly and placed the book in the crook of his elbow, hoisting the strap of his bag onto his shoulder and attempted to dodge the stunned figure of Hermione Granger.
Realising who he was, her mouth dropped open in shock.
“Malfoy?”
He cursed silently. So she hadn’t recognised him at all. No wonder she had smiled. He chatised himself for greeting her. He would have got away with it.
“Yes.” He continued to flick idly through the shelves, occasionally selecting a book, pulling it out, examining the back, opening it onto a random page, giving it a quick read through, and returning it to its position.
“How - how have you been?” she choked out.
He scrutinised her face. Why should she care how he had been? Draco shrugged. “Oh, you know, the usual.”
He turned to face her. She looked flushed and awkward, yet there was some other emotion, one that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Her hands were shoved deep in her pockets and she chewed her lip nervously.
“Where’s Potty and Weasel King, then? Didn’t think they let the little Mudblood out of their sights," he asked scathingly. She looked surprised and hurt at the old taunts, but regained herself immediately; any remaining vulnerability vanished from her face instantly.
“Where’s your mother, Malfoy? Didn’t think she let her slimy git of a son shop on his own.”
He bared his white teeth into a smile. “Times change, Granger.”
She gave him a furious glare and threw a couple of books into her bag. One missed its aim and fell to the floor.
“Doesn’t seem like you have.”
He bent down to pick up the book as she extended her arm at the same time. Their hands grazed for only the briefest of seconds, yet Hermione recoiled in shock. He picked up the book and leant in towards her, so close his breath tickled her ear.
“Granger, you’d be surprised.” He flashed her a quick smirk. “See you at Hogwarts.”
Hermione stood up suddenly. “You’re going back?”
He stood up as well. “Yes, I am.” Handing her back the book, he asked coolly, "Do you have a problem with that?"
She shook her head in disgust.
She grabbed the book off him. “They’d never let you go back.”
Draco shrugged. “I always said they were crackpots. Didn’t expect it out of McGonagall, though.”
“You’re a liar,” Hermione hissed.
He casually flicked his hair out of his eyes. “Have it your way, then. See you on the train, Granger.”
Draco left before she could retaliate.
* * *
The rest of Draco’s morning past without much occurring. He sat outside Florean Fortescue’s Ice-cream Parlour for an early lunch, and searched the crowd for familiar faces. Theodore Nott, who had been an old Slytherin alliance of his, resignedly sat down opposite him with Draco’s ex-girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson in tow. Pansy had an ostentatious engagement ring on her pudgy hand; a flamboyant show of the Slytherin colours and her new-found wealth in her fiancé. Draco and Nott nodded at each other, while Pansy made a point of crooning, whispering in Nott's ear and playing with her hair.
“I confess I’m surprised to see you here, Draco. It’s been said you haven’t been seen in public since the Great Battle.”
Draco shrugged artlessly and stirred his coffee.
“There’s been nothing to entice me away from home.”
Pansy gave a bitter laugh.
“What? No pure-blood witches good enough for you these days?”
Draco stared at her coolly.
“I’m afraid if you can’t keep her under control, Nott, she’ll have to go. You see, they expect pets to be well-behaved when they’re in public.”
Nott didn’t appear to be overly concerned by the comparison of his wife-to-be to a house-hold animal. Pansy, however, swearing loudly, angrily reached for her wand, stood up suddenly, succeeding in knocking over the table. The cutlery and ware knocked to the ground with a resounding crash. There were mutterings as people strained to turn around in their seats, dying to get a good look at the disturbance.
“How - dare - you!”
He cocked an eye-brow.
“Is this the only kind of publicity you can get these days, Pansy? I must say it’s ever so classy of you.”
“You… you….”
Nott, with a bored look on his face, as if he was used to his fiancées outbursts, placed a cool hand on hers. She at once lowered the wand and sat down, breathing heavily.
Draco smirked and raised his hand. A waiter was by his side immediately.
“My friend had a bit of an accident here, nothing to worry about. Could you perhaps refill our drinks for us when you’re finished cleaning up here? We’ll lay off the Fire-Whisky, I promise.”
He nonchalantly slipped a couple of Galleons into the waiter’s hand.
“For the inconvenience.”
“Yes, sir!” the waiter said eagerly.
Draco returned his focus to Nott and Pansy and resumed the conversation. “So when is the happy day?”
Nott looked confused. Draco was sure Pansy would have told him all the sordid details if she wasn’t so busy sulking. Draco waited while Nott digested this question. He knew Pansy would explode soon if he didn’t answer. And he was right. Pansy smacked him hard on the fore-arm and looked about ready to cry.
“The wedding, Theo! He’s asking about the wedding!”
“Oh.”
Comprehension slowly dawned on Nott's snooty face. There was another billowing silence.
“The eh… the eh…the twenty-third…”
“It’s the eighteenth, Blaise! Our wedding is on the eighteenth of February!” she hissed threateningly.
Nott shrugged uncomfortably.
“I knew that," he insisted.
Pansy burst into tears.
“I’m going shopping for my wedding robes, Blaise! You know what that is? It’s what I’m going to wear on our wedding day on the eighteenth of February! And it will be a happy day!”
She gathered up her things off the table and stormed down the street. The two men watched in her silence.
“She's a keeper, Nott,” Draco said, smirking.
“Cheers.”
They both sighed and turned back into the table.
“I don’t suppose you do have any lady friends you haven’t told us about?” Nott asked, a lot more enthusiastically now that Pansy was gone.
Draco laughed.
“Not a chance, Nott, not a chance. And I don’t think I’ll be finding any at Hogwarts, either.”
Nott looked surprised.
“You’re going back to Hogwarts?”
“Got the letter this very morning. I suppose you’re working?”
“Magical Law Enforcement.”
Draco nodded.
“Know anyone who’s going back too?” he asked hopefully.
Nott grinned. “You’ll love this. Our favourite Mudblood’s going back…”
“Well of course.”
“…without Potter and Weasely."
Reflection by Nitwit Blubber Oddment Tweak x
Chapter Notes: In this chapter, Draco encounters Hermione for the first time in a while.
Chapter Endnotes: Your input is - as always - greatly appreciated, enormously valued and incredibly important :)