The forecast had not said anything about rain, which was yet another reason that Hermione was running late. Maybe it was her fault for continuing to watch those muggle weathermen, but their reports were integrated into the regular news. It was a matter of efficiency. Besides, she could have never guessed how often they would be wrong.
It wasn’t that she’d been particularly excited about this date, but she made a commitment, and Colin was plenty nice. She’d have aparated there if the restaurant wasn’t in a district so densely populated with muggle housing. It wasn’t as if giving a random bystander a fit after she appeared out of nowhere was going to make her look particularly attractive. Though being late would not either.
The restaurant was in sight, and she frantically looked at her watch as she wove through the various pedestrians who lacked any spacial awareness. 7:06. She would most certainly apologize profusely. Realistically, he was unlikely to be angered over 6 minutes, but she still wasn’t inside. And if he had gotten there early, he would have been kept waiting even longer.
And of course she had forgone an umbrella, though at least she had thought to put up her hair, narrowly avoiding the frizz that the humidity would have certainly created.
At last she arrived at the restaurant, one of his choosing that was a little more on the pricey side than she would have liked for a second date, but she agreed deciding she needed not to micromanage everything for once.
If the hostess noticed Hermione’s soaked appearance, she was gracious enough to turn a blind eye. “Hello, how may I help you?”
“Hello, I’m with the Anderson party. I’m a little late.” Hermione inwardly cringed when she noticed that her jacket was dripping onto the carpet.
The hostess kept her smile politely in place. “It looks like you are the first to arrive. I can show you to the table.” She gestured to another man, “And Simon can take your coat if you like.”
“Yes, please.” Hermione eagerly shucked her coat, and gave the man an apologetic smile when he took it from her. “Is there a washroom I could use to freshen up?”
“Absolutely, let me show you to your table, and then I will point you in the direction.”
“Wonderful.” Hermione said with what was hopefully a polite smile. As the hostess led her further into the restaurant, she took in her surroundings. It was clearly not a wizard’s establishment based on the obvious lack of magic in the air, but it was quite lovely. High ceilings. Low light. Rather romantic actually. Perhaps this date would go better than she expected.
Although he was even later than she was, something that would usually lead her to be extremely annoyed. Though, in this case, she had to admit it was a stroke of luck.
Even the washroom was spacious and fortunately, empty. The rain had luckily not messed up too much of her makeup, and her hair was safe thanks to the updo. All she really had to do was fix her lipstick and dab at the mascara fallout under her eyes.
Extracting her makeup bag from her pocketbook that Ginny had insisted was too large to be taking on a date, she noticed another lipstick inside. Clearly it was left over from the last time she went out for drinks with the girls.
The new lipstick gave her pause. Her current makeup was safe, an effort to look pristine. The lipstick that was almost definitely Ginny’s was a deep red.
To say that she had been a little pent up since her parting with Ron would be an understatement. And Colin was the first man that she had found herself actually willing to go on a second date with. Maybe life would reward her for being a little bolder. If she would not get a third date due to lack of compatibility, maybe tonight would at least end interestingly.
When she walked back towards her table, she felt a little more daring. Tonight, she would not allow the conversation to drift towards boring discussions of work and procedure. Tonight, she would be flirtatious, maybe even sexy.
The table was still empty. She checked her watch. 7:12. Not an obscenely late arrival, but certainly one that was a little concerning. He had not mentioned that he might be held up. She sat at the table, and was pondering ordering a glass of wine while she waited when a voice startled her.
“Granger, are you late?” Draco Malfoy sat at the booth of the adjacent table, his back to the enormous decorative plants. No wonder she didn’t notice him. His table was practically in the shadows.
“I am not late.”
He merely ran his eyes over her form, and she suddenly felt less confident in her lipstick choice. “What sort of dinner starts at 7:12?”
“Perhaps it starts at 7:30?”
“That would make you 18 minutes early, which seems excessive even for you. And with the way you huffed towards your table, I think you’re late.” He grinned, knowing he had her.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Fine, yes, I was a few minutes late.” Annoyed that he had something to gloat over her. She gave him a onceover. “Where’s your date?”
He leaned back, the picture of nonchalance. “What makes you think I have a date?”
“You’re at a table with only one other seat, and most men do not appear as relaxed as you are if their business partner is running late.”
“Touche, Granger. I don’t know where she is. Where’s yours?”
She let her eyes drop to the plate in front of her. “I don’t know.”
Silence drifted over them, and she thought he might have become bored with her and returned to his own devices.
“I’m going to order us some wine.” His smooth voice cut through the silence, nearly startling her. It was so different from when they were children.
“Us?”
He looked at her questioningly, daring her to argue. “Yes, us. We might as well do something if we’re sat waiting.”
“Malfoy, I cannot afford whatever bottle you are going to deem worthy of our time.”
“My treat.” He caught the attention of the waiter. “Red or white?”
She sighed. “I cannot let you-”
“My choice then.” He interrupted, then ordered some sort of wine that she could not even pronounce let alone recognize.
Hermione allowed herself to assess him while he ordered. He had certainly filled out since their school years, no longer thin and lanky. Most likely due to influences of his wealthy social circles, he certainly knew how to dress. His platinum hair styled in such a way that it looked effortless, combed back elegantly, but not pompously. The suit he was wearing was undoubtedly expensive, and yet he wore it carelessly, with the jacket draped over the back of his chair, and his white shirt rolled up past his forearms.
“Consider it an apology.” His words jarred her from her perusal of his appearance. “For how I behaved in school.”
A flush filled her cheeks at him catching her staring, and she hoped he didn’t notice in the dim light. “Nonsense. You’ve already apologized. And I’ve already forgiven you.”
“Still.” He eyed her carefully, drawing his eyes up and down her body in the same manner she had done. “Who’s this bloke you’re waiting for?”
“Not Ron if that’s what you’re asking.” She looked at her plate again, annoyed there was nothing she could naturally occupy her hands with.
His gaze was thoughtful, which made her feel more vulnerable than she would have liked. “Yes, I heard. I suppose privacy is impossible with a woman like Rita Skeeter around.”
Hermione granted him a chuckle for that. “Undoubtedly. And I heard you’re not with…”
Draco nodded quickly, cutting her off with his lips pursed. Still a sore spot then. Astoria Greenglass and Draco’s relationship had graced the tabloids in what seemed like a rather messy split.
The weight of memories pressed on them, pushing them both into a silence that was neither uncomfortable nor easy. It was only when the wine came that Hermione looked at her watch once again. 7:28.
“At what point is tardiness considered rude?” Hermione mused as Draco had the waiter pour two glasses for them.
Draco raised an eyebrow in challenge. “You tell me. You’re the one who was late.”
She snorted. “And you were on time?”
“Perfectly.” He thanked the waiter, who thankfully left without batting an eye at two people talking across tables. “Why don’t you come sit over here?”
“Why should I move? You come over here.” On some level, she knew she was probably being petty. He had bought a most-likely exorbitantly expensive wine for them to share, and here she was disagreeing just for the sake of it.
There was a playful glint in his eye that told her he might be enjoying the challenge. With an overexaggerated eye roll, he rose, bringing the wine glasses with him.
Now that he was out of the shadows, she couldn’t help but stare at him once again. His eyes were far more striking than she remembered, and the thin fabric of his dress shirt made picturing what may lay underneath all the more interesting.
“I like the red lipstick by the way.” The grin he gave was certainly one he used at the end of dates to charm girls out of their dresses, and Hermione would be lying if she said it didn’t make her shift in her seat a little, suddenly feeling warmer.
“Well, my date is 34 minutes late, so clearly the effort is moot.”
Draco blinked, staring at her. “Granger, you don’t still believe he’s coming, do you?”
She nearly choked on her wine, ignoring the way that Draco’s eyes tracked the mark of lipstick she left on the rim. “What do you mean? Why would he not come?”
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table as if his place was always meant to be across from her. “If it makes you feel better, mine isn’t coming either.”
“Why wouldn’t they come?” Her voice was perhaps a bit too high, especially when Draco appeared so relaxed, but embarrassment was flooding her. She was being stood up, and Draco Malfoy was here to watch it happen.
“Haven’t the slightest idea, Granger.” His silver eyes were piercing, watching her carefully, waiting for something.
She let out a breath, trying to expel her anxieties with it. So much for a daring and bold night. “What do we do?”
“We order.” The corner of his mouth raised slightly.
“You want to eat together?”
He raised an eyebrow, another challenge. “Is that such a heinous idea?”
Hermione watched him carefully, looking for signs that this was all a part of a game for him. But he looked genuine, and he was stood up as well. It wasn’t her first time seeing him since school. They had crossed paths, but only as polite acquaintances who never inquired about more than the basics. To have him before her, opening wine and staring at her like she was exciting, was putting her off her game.
But maybe that was a good thing. Hadn’t she agreed to the date because she knew that her life was beginning to revolve entirely around her work. The very thing that had driven a wedge between her and Ron, and the very thing that she had thrown herself into after they’d split.
Maybe Draco Malfoy’s challenging gaze could serve her well.
“Not at all.” She said, opting to be brave and stare him down.
He grinned.