I didn't know you liked it
Hermione stuttered to a halt as soon as she saw the empty mug that not five minutes prior held the most precious substance in existence: a dirty chai latte with a generous swirl of cinnamon-dusted whip cream. Narrowed eyes zeroed in on the man sitting innocently to the side seemingly absorbed in a report humming to himself.
"Malfoy."
"..."
"Draco Lucius Malfoy."
At the sound of his full name, a smirk slowly spread across his face as his eyes leveled with hers.
"Granger, please sit. You look like you're about to fit."
She didn't care if it was childish. She stomped her foot and pointed accusingly at the scene of the crime.
"Where is my chai?!"
"Oh, is that what that delightful little concoction is called? I drank it, of course, since you were so kind enough to order ahead for our meeting." Eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled one of those supposedly rare, genuine smiles, the sort Pansy warned her about but Hermione seemed to gather on her person like common cat hairs.
"I. didn't. know. you. liked. it. I ordered that chai for myself!" Hermione's voice quivered in indignation, her knuckles gripping the back of her chair tightly. There was a spot of whip cream just at the corner of his lip and she desperately wanted to reach across and brush her fingers across it.
So she did.
Blame it on his shock, the way his eyes widened and posture stiffened, but she couldn't help herself. Hermione lifted the stolen cream to her own lips and lapped at it before taking her seat.
"You owe me a dirty chai with interest--I particularly like their lemon bars." She hoped her voice sounded steadier than her pulse, which beat wildly.