“Now, don’t forget that next week I want everyone to wear their Halloween costumes. Class dismissed, have a lovely weekend.”
Hermione stepped away from the bar and the routine, looking at her students who were a bit pink-faced. Upon hearing her announcement, they relaxed and began to whisper to each other about costumes and preparation.
Hermione smiled, turning to unplug her phone from the speaker and begin cleaning the studio. It was quite a successful lesson, she thought. They had gone through their routine for their upcoming performance and then played some games. Hermione never thought she would enjoy teaching ballet but she found it to be a nice distraction from regular life.
“Thank you, Miss. Granger!”
Hermione turned to wave to Margaret and Molly who were heading out the door, bags slung over their shoulders. The room began to get more and more quiet as students left, leaving her to clean everything up.
Hermione began to drag the rolling bars to the side of the room against the mirrors, bending over to collect the spare blocks and towels her students used throughout the class. Dropping them in a basket near the speaker at the front of the room, Hermione stood up to see the reflection of someone standing near the door.
“Scorpius, how may I help you?” She turned around.
Scorpius was one of her best students. Despite starting only a few months ago, he was one of her fastest learners who had a beautiful form that Hermione guessed was innate and not taught. Scorpius was rather tall for his age, his bright blond hair reminding her of a certain pureblood that she went to school with.
He was holding a small bag in his hands, his posture very straight. “My dad isn’t here to pick me up yet. Is it okay if I wait here for a little?”
“Of course! I’m just cleaning up and getting things situated for the next class,” Hermione glanced at the clock, noting that she had a little over a half hour before the next instructor came in. Scorpius remained by the door a bit awkwardly, and Hermione decided to speak as she had a soft spot for the boy.
While some of her students liked to gush about their lives during the small “how are you doing” portion of the class Hermione liked to include as they were stretching at the bar, Scorpius remained rather quiet about his personal life, giving simple answers. Hermione didn’t mind, but she always asked how he was doing regardless. She did notice at times that his facial expressions when he was concentrating or annoyed reminded Hermione very much of Malfoy, even though she knew he would never step foot into a Muggle ballet studio. The vision of that happening did make her grin from time to time.
“Do you feel prepared for the concert coming up?” Hermione sat down in a small chair to remove her ballet flats. Unwrapping them from around her ankles and slipping them off, she flexed her toes, slightly wincing at the soreness.
Scorpius nodded vigorously, his blond hair flopping up and down.
“I’ve been practicing at home. My father says I should find some time to have fun,” His cheeks flushed a light pink color. Hermione smiled, finding satisfaction in his determination and love for dance. Maybe she was doing something right.
“As much as I applaud your dedication to perfection, I must agree with your dad,” Hermione slid on her regular shoes, standing to twist her hair into a more fixed bun. Scorpius let out a small chuckle.
“My father also says that-”
“-That you should dedicate yourself more to your studies? I must say he has a point,” A deep and familiar voice drawled, cutting Scorpius off.
Hermione watched as Draco Malfoy (yes the same one we are all thinking of right now) stepped through the door of her ballet studio, looking as proper and pristine as ever. Draco Malfoy, the very person who had bullied her for most of her career at Hogwarts. The very same man who had become a Death Eater and nearly killed Dumbledore. THE Draco Malfoy, king of all of Slytherin. Yes, Hermione, we get the point.
Hermione gasped, all color leaving her face. “Malfoy.” What was he doing here? And why did he say that Scorpius had a point? What was going on?! Had he tracked her somehow into the Muggle world?
“Granger?!” Draco’s eyes widened as he noticed her and he took a step back. His mouth dropped open for a second before he quickly closed it, composing himself. His eyes scanned Scorpius standing beside him before landing back on her. An entire emotion seemed to pass over his face before it settled on what looked like determination.
Hermione took a few steps forward. “What are you doing here?” Did he come to seek revenge on her? Her wand was way out of reach in her small duffle bag if that was the case.
He cleared his throat. “I came to pick up my son.”
“Your son is Scorpius?” She blurted out, feeling her jaw falling further to the floor. No wonder Scorpius' facial expressions and hair reminded her so much of him; he was the spitting image of his father. Well, minus the coldhearted racist values that Malfoy voiced towards her over the years. Scorpius was kind and sweet and Malfoy was…well, mature. Hermione’s eyes instinctively took in her sworn enemy.
Over the years since she had last seen him, it would appear that Malfoy had filled out, his shoulders broader. His hair was a bit longer, styled but not as slick back as he had when they were children. He seemed to style it in such a way that made it seem more relaxed. As if his hair was the only attractive part, Hermione noticed his attire, which looked like they were tailored to him, extenuating his slimmer waist and large forearms.
Damn her, Draco Malfoy was attractive.
“Yes, of course,” Draco scoffed, almost as if it was a stupid question. Hermione internally rolled her eyes, feeling the arrogance seep off of him. Some things didn't seem to change.
Both former schoolmates had neglected to notice that Scorpius (now Malfoy) was also standing there, watching his father and his ballet teacher meet each other for the first time. He noticed the surprise on his father’s face that Miss. Granger was his teacher and the identical reaction from Miss. Granger when she saw his dad for the first time. He watched as the color drained from her face and was replaced by what appeared to be a blush. He had seen her smile, but never blush. Scorpius eyed his dad, noticing his eyes looking Miss. Granger up and down. It was definitely NOT the reaction Scorpius was expecting.
“Wait, do you guys know each other?” Scorpius finally asked, looking to his dad for answers.
“No” his father blurted just as Hermione blurted “Yes”
Both adults froze, looking at each other, before speaking again.
“We went to school together,” his father said first. Scorpius frowned, remembering the very little that his father had shared with him about his schooling years. Whenever he brought it up, it was always pushed away with an excuse. After a few years, Scorpius stopped asking.
“You mean the-” he paused, catching a glance at Ms. Granger, who was still looking at his dad like he had killed her cat. “Magic school?” He finished with a whisper, his hand shielding the words.
“Yes, Scorpius. Hogwarts,” Draco assured him, looking again at Ms. Granger who had crossed her arms over her chest. She looked like she wanted to ask a million questions but wasn’t sure where to start.
“Why don’t you go wait in the car, so Granger and I can catch up for a few minutes?” Malfoy suggested to his son, flashing a kind smile. Scorpius hesitated before looking at her again. Without another word, he nodded and walked out of the room, disappearing from sight.
All smiles and aloofness evaporated from Malfoy. “The world must be playing some cruel joke on me,” He massaged his brow, one hand on his hip.
“How do you think I feel?” Hermione hissed, coming closer so she would not be overheard by other students walking by.
Malfoy sighs, looking exhausted all of a sudden. “Trust me, I think the joke is focused on me.”
“I mean, the last thing I expected today was to find that the person teaching my son’s favorite activity is the very person I loathed in school,” He continues, rolling his eyes in exasperation. Hermione’s ears perk up.
“Scorpius loves the class?” She beams. She had been hesitant about getting back into ballet after many (MANY) years of not practicing but when she heard that others loved her classes, it brought her great joy knowing she had an impact.
“Of course, that’s what you would focus on, you swot.”
Hermione broke out of her celebratory trance to narrow her eyes at him. Malfoy clearly hadn’t changed that much. Hermione wasn’t surprised if he was one comment away from insulting her blood status.
“Do YOU think that I woke up today thinking I would reunite with the father of one of my most talented students who happened to make my life a living hell for many years?” Hermione snaps back, folding her arms across her chest. Now, it was Malfoy’s turn to get excited.
His eyes flashed with pride. “He’s one of your most talented students?”
“Malfoy!”
His expression dropped and he muttered something along the lines of “Of course he’s talented, he’s my son” under his breath. Hermione outwardly rolled her eyes.
“Not to mention that his father is..” Hermione’s voice leads off as she scans his figure again, realizing how fit Malfoy has become. Did he work out? Did he still play Quidditch? The thoughts run through her brain in a way that Hermione hopes is unnoticed. Unfortunately, the blush that appears on her cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by Malfoy and he’s going to take every opportunity to mess with the know-it-all.
“Is what, Granger?” Malfoy smirks, putting his hands into the pockets of his jacket. If he’s honest, he’s noticed the changes in Hermione Granger as well. Her hair has grown out and she appears to have tamed the chaotic frizz, styling it into a rather fashionable bun. Not to mention she has grown, her waist slimming and her breasts bigger. Her face is still dotted with freckles but rather than finding them annoying, Malfoy can’t help but find them rather attractive. What a pretty woman she has become over the years. The skintight leotard (Scorpius taught him the name) and flowy miniskirt also helped her case, showing her long and tan legs.
“-The exact same,” Hermione finished his sentence, much to Draco’s dismay. This doesn’t make his smirk disappear.
Rather, it only makes him say: “Yes, Malfoy men grow into their looks” confidently. Hermione lets out a long breath, remembering how exhausting it felt to be in his presence.
“Yes, sure,” she turns around, ready to leave now. She thought that this conversation would be more painful, but she’s rather happy that they aren’t discussing how much they hate each other. It made things easier as if they were only old classmates.
"So, you teach ballet now?" Malfoy asks from behind her. "I would have thought you would be spending all your time at the Ministry, fighting for all the innocent creatures that fall victim to the dangers of Wizarding society" he teases. Hermione glares at him through the mirror and turns off the computer.
"Yes, and I'm sure you would be spending all your time shooting down my proposals, eating meals prepared by your House Elves," Hermione shoots back, feeling a wave of anger start to grow beneath her chest. She had almost forgotten what being around him had felt like.
Malfoy's next words only make her more angry. "They do cook a fine potato stew."
"You sure haven't changed," Hermione calls to him, turning around and placing her hands back on her hips. She watches as he shrugs and takes a few steps closer.
"Perhaps. But you have," His eyes scan her figure and Hermione feels hot. How dare he! She does not have to stand here and...and take this.
"I would love to hear what you've been up to, Granger," Malfoy steps closer to her again. Hermione eyes him carefully, wondering what sort of game he's playing. Not only is she very slightly uncomfortable and angry, but she also feels something else. She feels an almost pool of heat in her stomach that she can't quite name (yes, Hermione, that's called being turned on). She has never been looked at, or addressed, by Malfoy in this way. He takes another step towards her, his mouth upturned in a grin. She stares at his mouth, wondering what would happen if he would step closer. Would he grab and kiss her? Would his lips be soft? Firm? Seeing how attractive he has become, both seem likely.
Realizing how foolish this sounds, Hermione diminishes all of these thoughts. It's Draco Malfoy, for Merlin's sake!
“This sure has been so much fun, but I’m afraid my time is up,” Hermione slings her bag over her shoulder, slipping her phone in. She walks past him and into the hallway, hoping he’ll get her cue. All she wants now is to go home back to her flat, send an owl to Harry about lunch next week, and forget that she had ever run into Malfoy.
“Wait, Granger,” Malfoy calls after her, jogging to catch up. Hermione waves to Darlene at the front desk before whipping around to face him.
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy?” she drawls. His brows raise in surprise.
“Mr?”
“You are a parent of one of my students, aren’t you?”
He scratches the back of his neck. Hermione has never seen him do this before and would almost go to say that he’s nervous. A shocking revelation to her. “Ah, right.”
“Would you be interested in grabbing coffee sometime? Perhaps to catch up and talk more about my amazingly talented son?” Malfoy grins towards her, his eyes playful.
Hermione blinks, feeling speechless. Is she really being asked out by Draco Malfoy in the lobby of the ballet studio? She pauses for a moment before finding herself saying “Uh, sure”
Victory flashes across Malfoy’s face.
“Great, I’ll send an owl to you about availability. See you soon,” He sends her another grin before walking (or strutting) out the door. Hermione stands there for another minute or two, staring at the wall in disbelief at the entire interaction she just had. It replays in her head almost as a blooper reel.
“What a hottie,” Darla states from the front desk, her eyes dreamy and looking at the door where he just walked out of.
Hermione lets out a long sigh, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “Yeah, it would appear so.” What a hot (and extremely confusing) man indeed.