The Reunion
I couldn't stop myself, I couldn't help myself
This isn't like me, can't you tell? (Can't you tell?)
Show me around this place, and take me in your embrace
It feels so right, but ain't it strange?
In this moment, all I know is
15 minutes ago, I was layin' in bed
Then I had a crazy thought in my head
So I took the keys and got in the car
Don't know how I got here, but baby, here we are
15 Minutes - Madison Beer
Hermione’s eyes were immediately drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, as if their meeting was somehow inevitable, written in the stars – an invisible string connecting the very essence of their beings.
He was leaning against a far wall of London’s Cirque Le Soir, his slick skin luminescent under the flashing neon lights, tendrils of smoke floating past his parted lips; she couldn’t help but stare as they unfurled and twisted like a phantom serpent before him.
Lowering her gaze from his face, she was struck by the view of his naked chest peeking through the opening of his blazer, a mosaic of black and white ink the only thing covering his skin. When the light hit just right, she swore she could make out the head of a Hungarian horntail peeking over his shoulder onto his chest. She supposed he was expected to have a dragon tattoo, self-absorbed prat that he is.
Slowly trailing her eyes back up his torso, past the silver chains dangling from his neck, her breath was sucked out of her chest by the sight of familiar grey eyes staring back at her.
As she watched him pull a joint out of his mouth, a teasing grin slowly took over Draco’s face. He pointed at her, beckoning her with two fingers, his lips silently mouthing, "Come here.”
Unable to resist his pull, Hermione began dancing through the mass of sweaty bodies on the dance floor, swaying her hips along to the rhythm, her eyes never breaking contact with his. Finally reaching him, she was abruptly pulled flush against his chest, his hand not holding the joint pressing against the small of her back, his figure looming over hers, her face mere inches away from his.
“Hello, Granger,” he uttered softly, his face bending low as if to kiss her but shifting to the side, his lips hovering next to her ear. “I can’t say I ever expected to see the Golden Girl in a place like this, let alone catch her staring at me, but Gods, am I pleased to see you. You look ravishing tonight.”
Shivering at the feeling of his warm breath on her skin, a small gasp slipped past her lips before she turned her head to face him, their mouths almost connecting in their proximity. “I can’t say I ever expected to see Draco Malfoy in a muggle nightclub but yet here you are. Colour me intrigued, I guess,” she drawled, pulling away ever so slightly, a hand slowly raising to gently tug at one of the chains adorning his slender neck.
“Intrigued, is it?” Draco smirked, his hand on her lower back slowly trailing up towards her neck, fingers lightly tracing over her damp, naked spine, leaving goosebumps along their path. “What I’m most intrigued about is what this gorgeous woman hoped would happen if she caught my eye tonight.”
Rising on the tip of her toes, Hermione used the hand still holding onto Draco’s chain to pull him down until their mouths were grazing against each other. “Kiss me, Malfoy,” she whispered, darting her tongue out to lightly sweep it across his bottom lip.
“Ah ah… not yet, love,” he chuckled, pulling his face away from hers and reaching towards a table she hadn’t seen beside him. “Open wide, Granger,” he gently ordered before inhaling a drag from the still-lit joint between his fingers, filling his mouth with its tangy smoke. Taking hold of her jaw, he languidly blew the smoke into her pliable mouth before crashing his lips into hers.