A first date
Hermione was perched on the sofa in her living room, Rose gurgling happily on a playmat nearby. It had been a few days since Draco had been to visit and Rose was doing a lot better since her visit to the hospital. Hermione had a copy of Advanced Potion Making open on her knee, when a tawny owl, its feathers gleaming in the afternoon sun, landed gracefully on Hermione’s window, a small scroll tied to its leg. Hermione recognised the familiar crest embossed on the wax seal – a stylised silver serpent. A smile tugged at her lips, she had been anxiously waiting for Draco’s owl.
Carefully untying the scroll, she unrolled it and began to read. Draco’s handwriting, surprisingly neat and elegant, filled the parchment.
Hermione,
I’ve been giving our first date some thought, and while I’d love to whisk you to Paris, Lisbon or Rome I thought that actually the perfect place would be to spend an evening at yours. I know it’s unconventional, but I was thinking I could come over and cook for you? I’ve discovered a surprising talent and love for Italian cuisine in recent years (a long story involving a particularly stubborn house-elf and a cookbook), and I though it would it would be a nice, relaxed way for us to get to know each other better, without the prying eyes of the outside world.
I understand if you’d prefer to go out, but I promise not to burn down your home or poison you with any questionable ingredients. Let me know you think. If you’re amenable to the idea, I was thinking Saturday evening around seven pm?
Looking forward to seeing you and Rose,
Draco.
Hermione chuckled as she held the note close to her chest. A home-cooked meal? It was so unexpected but also incredibly thoughtful. She liked the idea of a quiet evening at home, away from prying eyes and the thought of Draco, in her kitchen was strangely amusing.
She picked up a quill and a piece of parchment from desk.
Draco,
Your culinary skills are a mystery I’m eager to explore.. Saturday evening sounds perfect.
I’m looking forward to it.
Hermione.
She folded the parchment, sealed it with a simple ‘HG’ and attached it to the owls leg, watching as it took flight and soared out into the evening sky. Hermione sat down on the sofa, leaning back as a contented sigh escaped her lips. She glanced over at Rose who was now attempting to eat her own toes with impressive determination. “Looks like we have a date, Rosie,” she murmured. “And I have a feeling it’s going to be interesting. She smiled at the thought of Draco in her kitchen, cooking for her and Rose. Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.
Hermione’s bedroom looked like a bomb had detonated, dresses lay strewn across the bed, skirts hung precariously from the wardrobe door, and a mountain of blouses threatened to avalanche onto the floor. She sighed, running a hand through her already messy hair. Finding something to wear for her date with Draco was proving to be more challenging than she expected.
But it wasn’t just a date, it was a date with Draco Malfoy and she wanted it to go well. She needed something casual, something chic. “Honestly, Rose,” Hermione muttered to her daughter who has gurgling happily on the bed among the clothes. “You’d think after all the balls and events at Hogwarts, I’d know how to dress myself.” She picked up a vibrant emerald green dress, holding it up against herself. Too flashy? She looked in the mirror, shaking her head, “absolutely not, I look like a Slytherin reject.”.
The problem was, she didn’t know what Draco’s type was. His wife Tori had been the ultimate pureblood society witch, always dresses to the nines not in jeans and a t-shirt but was that what Draco expected?
She tossed the green dress onto the growing pile on the bed and grabbed a simple, elegant black dress. Classic, safe. But was it too… boring? She twirled in front of the mirror, then frowned. She looked like she was going to a funeral. Not the vibe she was going for.
Perhaps something casual, she mused, rifling through the wardrobe again and pulling out her favourite pair of dark jeans and a soft, cream jumper. It was comfortable but was it really date worthy? She pictured herself sitting opposite Draco who most likely would be dressed in a shirt as always. “This is ridiculous,” she groaned, flopping onto the bed beside Rose. “I’ve overthinking this aren’t I?” she asked her, Rose responded with a tug at Hermione’s hair. She smiled, her heart softening, “you are right, Rosie,” she said, taking hold of the babies hands, “I need to calm down.”
She sat up, pulling Rose into her lap and took a deep breath. She thought about Draco, not the one she went to school with who was full of pureblood attitude and anger, but the witty, intelligent and surprisingly kind man who had brought her daughter a stuffed teddy and went out of his way to check what her regular drink was. He wasn’t expecting some flashy, glamourous version of her, he liked her as she was.
With a renewed sense of calm and some sensibility in her, she reached out to grab her favourite dress. She had initially discounted it because she wore it all the time. It was simple but elegant, a soft, flattering shade of blue, comfortable but stylish, or at least that’s what Ginny told her.
She smiled. “What do you think, Rosie?” she asked, holding the dress up to her daughter. Rose gurgled and grabbed at it, her little face lighting up. Hermione took that as a vote of confidence.
She got dressed, adding a simple pair of studded silver earrings and a little bit of blush and lipgloss, nothing too over the top considering they were in her house. Importantly she looked and felt like herself, just a more polished version.
As she heard the knock on the door, she took one last look in the mirror, a flutter of nerves in her stomach. But this time, it was a good flutter. She was ready.
She glanced at the bouquet of lillies that Draco had sent to her earlier, waiting for her when she got home and smile, it was a surprisingly thoughtful touch as she reached for the door handle. He was there, leaning against the doorframe, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark coat, his gaze fixing on hers. his feet was a large wicker basket.
Draco straightened, a warm smile lighting up his face, as he leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek. “Granger, you look beautiful as always” his voice soft. “Malfoy” she replied, her heart fluttering, “you look handsome as always, do you own anything other than expensive black shirts?” she asked with a smirk. “Come on in, Rose is just in her playpen if you want to say hello.”
Glancing around the room, his eyes settled on Rose who was holding onto a plastic rattle that Ron had given her, focused on shaking it has hard as she could, shouting at it in her adorable squeaky voice. “Hello little Rosie” he murmured, making his way to her. “Hello again little one” he leaned down to her, and Rose held out her toy to him, giggling as he reached his large hand out to touch her soft brown curls.
“Now, why don’t you have a glass of wine and I’ll start cooking for us?” he said, as he began to unpack the basket he had brought with him. Soon the aroma of garlic and herbs drifted through Hermione’s cottage, a far cry from the usual scent of chamomile and baby powder. Hermione was leaving over the island, watching Draco Malfoy with a mixture of amusement and disbelief who as currently elbow-deep in flour, a smudge of it adorably dusting his cheekbone.
“You know,” Hermione said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I never pictured you as a chef, I thought all you noble purebloods had house-elves to cook for you, or ate out for every meal.” Draco glanced up, a genuine smile gracing his lips. “Well, Granger, you’ve always underestimated me. There’s more to me than just a pointy stick and a penchant for trouble.” He winked, then returned to kneading the dough. “Besides, I had to do without magic while I was on house arrest during my trial, and well.. I had to do something with that free time.”
Hermione stilled, “I can imagine it was hard to be without magic, I thought about you often you know during your trial, hoping for the best outcome.” Draco turned to look at her, as he lifted his own glass, taking a sip of the red wine he had brought. “Hmm, it was yours and Potters testimony that got me my life back, I’m not sure I ever really said thank you.” She blushed, “You were a child then Malfoy, we all were. Children fighting a war of men, with pointy sticks and penchants for chaos.” She raised an eyebrow.
Draco grimaced at the reminder of their shared past, “a lesson well learnt Granger” she came round to the pot he was stirring, wanting to change the topic of conversation to something more suited for the evening. “So, what exactly is Draco Malfoy making in my kitchen, apart from a mess?”
“Be patient, Granger,” Draco said, gesturing around her with a floury hand. “Tonight, we are having homemade pasta with a simple tomato, garlic and basil sauce. Comfort food, it’s perfect for our first date.” He emphasised the word ‘first’ slightly, a hopeful glint in his grey eyes.
Hermione’s heart fluttered a bit, “well so long as you don’t poison me, maybe I’ll cook for you for our second date.” Draco chuckled, “Trust me, Granger. I’ve made pasta countless times and for our second date, I’d like to take you out somewhere special if you’ll let me.” Hermione smiled,
Draco glanced over to the sleeping figure of Rose, “will that be her for the evening?” Hermione looked at the clock, “likely she’ll be up in two hours for her final bottle of the night, but she should be mostly settled. Draco looked almost disappointed, “I promise you can play with her another night” Hermione laughed, knocking him with her shoulder. “I thought you were here for date with me, not my three month old daughter and her teddies.” Draco smirked at her, “I rather thought you were a package deal, but I am very glad to have some one on one time just us, but I admit, I’ll never turn down a cuddle with her.”
Hermione watched him finishing prepping the meal by his side, as she finished her wine before he ushered her to the table and with a wave of his wand, summoned candles and a tablecloth from the basket, landing perfectly on her dining table. “Show off” she whispered.
They sat at the table together, the candlelight casting dancing shadows across their face. Draco had made them an incredible meal, and she watched as he lay it all out in front of them. The pasta was perfectly cooked, the sauce rich and flavourful. He topped up their wine glasses, “to new beginnings,” he said raising his glass. Hermione clinked her glass against his. “To new beginnings,” she echoed, a hopeful smile gracing her lips. She took a bite of the pasta, as he watched eager to see her reaction, and her mouth exploded with the flavours “oh wow,” she moaned, “this is incredible Draco.”
“You’ve surprised me tonight,” Hermione remarked as they finished their meal. “the cooking, the charm.. you’re surprisingly domestic.” Draco leaned back in his chair, his plate empty. “Don’t go spreading it around,” he said, winking. “My reputation precedes me, you know. The pureplood prince, slaving away in a Muggle kitchen? The scandal that would cause.” He laughed. “Your secrets safe with me,” Hermione promised. “Though, I might have to tell Ginny, she’ll never believe it.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound the gentle snores of Rose asleep beside them. Then, Draco cleared his throat. “So,” he said, changing the subject, “what do you do when you’re not being a head of department and super-mum?” Hermione laughed, “that’s pretty much it, my work at the Ministry is important to me, it’s fulfilling. Though sometimes I feel like I spend more time mediating between grumpy Kneazles and territorial Puffskeins than actually regulating anything.”
“Sounds like a fun job,” Draco said with a grin. “I’ll happily trade you that in exchange for a classroom full of first year students” he made a face, before topping up their glasses. Hermione laughed, “of course you would, but you remember what it was like at that age, and you were quite the troublemaker.” Draco raised an eyebrow playfully, “I prefer the term spirited,” he said. “Besides, I’ve changed my ways. Mostly.”
Hermione stared at him, “mostly?” she echoed, a skeptical glint in her eyes. “well, I’m always up for a little mischief, if the company is right.” He looked at her meaningfully, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.
Hermione’s heart fluttered again, she couldn’t deny she was enjoying herself and flirty Draco was her favourite one yet. He looked delicious tonight, he had rolled his sleeves up while he was cooking, and she could see the tight muscles through his black shirt, his hands strong and steady as they had kneaded the dough. Her thoughts had drifted imaging his hands on her again, thinking about the gentle kiss they had shared and wondering if he would try to kiss her again tonight.
With the meal finished, Draco helped Hermione clean up the kitchen, the earlier flour explosion easily removed with a flick of his wand, earning a grateful smile from Hermione. “Do you want to watch a film?” she asked, and his brow furrowed, “is that on the telly box?” she smiled at his mistake, “the television, and yes” she waved a hand towards her extensive DVD collection, “pick something that appeals, and I’ll put it on, but Rose is likely to be awake any minute for a bottle.”
Just then, as if on cue, Rose yawned from where she was lying, her eyes blinking open. “Why don’t you let me feed her, and you can sort out something for us watch?” Draco smiled at Rose, holding his hands out to her and picking her up. “I saw some bottles in the fridge earlier, does she just need it warmed up?” he was already making his way to the kitchen as Hermione just watched. There was something so attractive about a man just looking after them both and she realised how nice it was nice not to have to do everything on her own. “yeah, just grab one and use a warming spell, not too hot though” she advised, as she wandered over to pick out a film.
What on earth do you pick for a date, and why had she suggested a film? She ran her eye over the titles, and landed on Sleepless in Seattle, it was one of her favourites and surely even Malfoy would enjoy Tom Hanks. She focused on getting the tv sorted, as she heard Draco talking to Rose in the background while he sorted her bottle. By the time the film was starting, she turned to find Draco and Rose nestled on her sofa, Rose happily tucking into her milk. Draco smiled at her, patting the seat beside him.
“You look at ease with her” Hermione said, “I’ve only ever wanted to be father you know, losing Scorpius and Tori, devastated me” Hermione stilled, letting him finish “Tori and I had an arranged marriage yes but we loved each other in the way that best friends do.” Draco looked at her “but I’ve never been in love, not really, not until I held my son in my arms”. Draco’s eyes were glassy, and Hermione moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder as Rose gurgled happily with her bottle. “I’m so sorry Draco, I can’t imagine how that felt, to lose them both, especially when you’ve already lost so much.”
They fell into a contemplative silence as Rose finished feeding, dozing lightly in his arms, before he stood “I’ll put her into bed” whispering as Hermione nodded, pointing towards the nursery. She got up to grab the rest of the bottle, and his glass when he appeared behind her.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, his voice husky. Hermione nodded, and she felt his hands on her waist turning her to face him. She closed her eyes, anticipation building with every breath. His lips met hers, soft at first, a slow lingering kiss, filled with longing, one hand moving to touch her face as he pulled her closer deepening the kiss. “Draco” she whispered against his lips, a gentle moan emitting from her as his tongue slid against hers. She felt a fire starting in her, wanting more.
When they finally broke apart, her gaze met Draco’s. He was looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher, but it made he heart flutter. “That was..” she began, her voice breathless. “Amazing,” he finished, his lips curving into a wide smile as he pulled her back to him in a hug “it was perfect”. Hermione smiled against his chest, her heart overflowing with happiness.
She couldn’t deny it any longer, she liked Draco Malfoy, she really liked him but this was complicated, daunting. Their history was going to make this the biggest news story in wizarding Britain. Draco pulled her chin up so their lips met again, a soft kiss brushing hers “you are perfect,” she blushed and kissed him back, biting gently at his bottom lip, surprising him.
He answered with a low growl as he picked her up, her legs wrapping around him as he moved them to the sofa, setting her down on his lap so she straddled him. “I want to take this slow Hermione, I’m not here for a one-time thing.” She paused, “I do too, but I can’t deny how I feel.”
He sighed, his expressing a mixture of regret and longing, “I was a fool for a long time Hermione. A scared arrogant fool. I was so caught up in my own insecurities, in trying to live up to my fathers’ expectations, that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me.” He looked at her, his eyes filled with sincerity. “I remember the first time I met you, on the train at Hogwarts. Merlin you were bossy.” He laughed “But I knew you were brilliant, performing spells already, kind, helping Longbottom find that ridiculous toad of his. You were everything I wasn’t, and I admired you for it, I envied you”.
Hermione’s heart ached for him, for the lost years and the missed opportunities, “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, not for the way I treated you or the things I said. But I need you to know, to understand that I’ve changed. I want a chance, with you, whatever this is between us."
Draco took her hand, his touch warming her, “Can you give me that?”. Hermione nodded, her heart pounding “this is all unexpected, four months ago I thought you were just a Slytherin idiot who hated me still, our paths never crossed, and somehow we’ve ended up here.” Hermione leaned in closer, nuzzling against him “but I want that chance too, to get to know you, to be there for you.”
Her words hung in the air, heavy with emotion. A slow smile spread across Draco’s face, transforming his features, making him look younger, happier. He leaned in and kissed her again, with a passion that left no room for doubt. It was a kiss that promised more.
As they held each other close, the fire crackling beside them, Hermione felt sure for the first time that she had a choice for herself, and not for others. “But can we keep this between us for now Draco, not because I don’t want to tell the world, but we both know that once the press catches wind, it’s going to be crazy and I want a chance to know each other without them interfering.” Draco pressed a kiss to her head “of course, I agree but I hope you know that I’ll never be ashamed of this, of us of whatever lies ahead.”
They settled together on the sofa, Draco tracing circles with his fingertips over her arm as they tried to pay attention to the film. Hermione could feel her eyes beginning to close, and snuggled in close to Draco, feeling his heartbeat under her head. “I should go, let you get some sleep.” He leaned in to kiss her lips gently, “coffee tomorrow?” he asked and she nodded, “thank you for tonight Draco,” he smiled “no, thank you Hermione,” and headed out the door, closing it gently behind him as Hermione drifted to sleep on the sofa.