Lap
Tegan & Sara - I was a Fool
Prompt: "on my lap"
They sat next to one another in a pub, waiting for the others. Over the years, Draco and Hermione built up a tentative friendship, if you could call it that. He sincerely apologized after the war. She accepted it brusquely.
They both went to therapy, finished their education at Hogwarts, and acknowledged each other in the Great Hall with short conversations when appropriate, and left it at that.
Sometimes they met each other's glances in class, in the Quidditch pitch, or when they ran into each other at Hogsmeade.
One time, they were even paired as Potions partners. She remembered watching him chopping up some Venomous Tentacula finely, then grinding them in a mortar. She was so entranced by his hands that Professor Slughorn needed to call her a few times. She was so embarrassed that she made a point out of not looking at him for a long time after that.
A late night study session led them to the library. Hermione was tired and forgot any sense of propriety around her past nemesis. She folded up her sleeves to prevent ink from getting on her shirt.
Draco suddenly reached out and traced his finger over her scars.
She recoiled in horror.
"I—I'm sorry. I should have asked."
"Yes, you should have," she sneered. She grabbed her books. "I'm tired, Draco. I'll see you tomorrow."
His hand reached out once more, grabbing her wrist.
She jumped.
"You called me 'Draco,'" he said quietly.
She flushed. "So I did."
"I'm sorry, Granger. For everything."
She nodded, whisking away her tears. She ran from the library that night, because if she stayed, she would break down and cry. And no one needed to see that.
They never talked about that night.
Sometimes, she still caught him studying her.
But they remained cordial. They shared friends, so they saw each semi-regularly.
Life began anew, whether they wanted it to or not. She got a job at the Ministry, working up from an internship. He became a Quidditch talent scouter.
Her and Ron's relationship plateau'd after the war, and they called it off. She dated casually — Cormac, Neville, Anthony, etc.
None of them ever lasted.
Draco's relationship with Pansy seemed to fizzle out — not that she was paying attention. Since then, he had a steady rotation of Pureblood witches photographed on his arm.
But he never brought them to pub night.
They were the first ones there, making polite conversation. Hermione nervously tore a paper napkin, as she talked about her week. Draco always made her nervous.
He asked appropriate questions and always seemed interested in her work. She noticed he gripped his pint glass, the icy condensation dripping down his long fingers.
For him, it helped to cool down his skin.
She made a small pun and he laughed heartily, his grey eyes softening.
It wasn't that funny.
They caught each other's gaze and—
Ginny, Angelina, Harry, Zacharias, Blaise, and Theo came barging in loudly, some still sweaty and dressed in their quidditch kits, pushing into their booth.
It was a flurry of elbows and knees.
Draco and Hermione scooted in. Somehow she ended up pushed up against his chest and half on his lap.
His hand froze, inches away from her hip, hovering but respectfully never touching her.
Her breath caught in her throat. She could feel his heart pounding against her back.
Ginny turned to her, shoving her arm and thigh toward Draco. "Make room. Ron and his new girlfriend are coming."
Hermione's cheeks burned and shifted uncomfortably in his lap, balancing precariously on one of his thighs. Her sundress hiked up slightly as her legs spread over his hip and thigh. His hand clenched white on the table. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," she whispered.
"I—" he gritted.
"It's fine," he finally managed to croak out.
To her, the words sounded clipped. Formal.
He was just being polite.
She could see his other hand grip his knee.
She shook her head violently, her curls brushing against his cheek.
A light floral scent mixed with something unmistakably Granger-like wafted into his nose.
She tried to make her voice sound casual but it came out cracked. "I'll move. I was gonna get up and get a drink anyway."
"No, please. I—Don't," he pleaded, only loud enough for her to hear.