Muggle Night out
Why the fuck is Draco Malfoy in a muggle bar?
He’s certain someone from his past is going to pop up and ask him that very question.
Yet he has no answer.
Sophie, the girl who invited him, was already pretty tipsy when Pansy and He found her. Now, they are all dancing- or grinding- in very close proximity.
Draco eyes the bar for an open stool, wanting at least another two shots as quickly as possible.
Pansy is in front of him, shaking her hips and singing along to the muggle song Draco has never heard before.
He puts his hands on her waist and waits for her to look over her shoulder.
“The bar,” he shouts over the music. He’s not sure she heard it, but she nods.
So he extricates himself from the dance floor and orders a shot of “something cheap.”
He doesn’t manage to find an open seat, so he tucks himself close to a wall and watches the dance floor.
Eventually Pansy finds him.
“You are miserable” she whisper-shouts.
He starts to shake his head and then stops.
“Yes.”
“We can go,” she offers, kind of bouncing to the music playing.
“It’s fine. You’re having fun.”
“I am fun. There is a difference. I can have fun anywhere.”
“It’s a lot,” he explains. Though it doesn’t encompass all of his feelings. Part of him loves it here. How loud it is. How many happy people there are.
Except his body feels stunted.
“Come on,” Pansy takes his hand and heads for the crowd.
He pulls back, but she just nods towards Sophie and her friends.
Draco watches as they yell back and forth, Pansy trying to make it clear they are leaving and Sophie saying she’ll call them.
Draco then leads the way to the door, nodding at the bouncer who Pansy had been forced to confound, given Draco’s lack of muggle identification.
How anyone thought he was undeage was beyond him. Whenever he looks in the mirror, he sees his father more than himself.
Draco drops Pansy’s hand, but she loops her arm through his, leaning against his arm.
When they reach the car, Draco grimaces.
“You’re drunk,” he reminds her as she pulls out the keys.
“You can drive,” she offers them to him.
No. Nope. No. He definitely cannot drive.
“Absolutely not,” he shakes his head.
Pansy stomps her feet like a child and then sighs, heavily.
“Fine,” she reaches into the teeny tiny bag she brought out and pulls out a small vial.
From the colour, Draco would guess that it is a sober up potion.
After she finishes it, she glares at Draco.
“I can’t believe you made me ruin my buzz. You start learning how to drive tomorrow.”
She unlocks the car and Draco goes around, climbing into the passenger’s side.
No no no. He won’t be learning how to drive this death trap.
“Want to sleep over? We can stay up late gossiping and braiding each other’s hair. Yours is getting long enough,” Pansy pulls away from the curb and Draco clings to the handle and the arm rest.
“Can you please just focus on getting me to my flat in one piece?”
Pansy laughs and turns on the radio which Draco tries to let soothe him. On their way to the bar, Pansy had explained a lot to him about muggle technology. She’d also helped him with the Ipod Granger had given him, teasing relentlessly.
“I like Sophie. Granted I don't know anything about her, but she bought us the first round and can dance. Maybe you should tell her you are single after all.”
Draco ignores her.
“Unless you have someone else in mind.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he muses.
Pansy takes a turn sharply and Draco braces himself.
Merlin, he hates it here.
“Mmhmm. Sure.”
She lets it go.
Or at least he thinks she does.
By the time she stops outside his flat, they’ve listened to three songs and Draco has held his breath four times, afraid of how fast Pansy was driving.
“Hermione is going out of town for the weekend,” she says, parking.
He shoots her a deadly look.
Pansy chuckles wryly, “I was just going to ask if you had any plans yourself.”
Draco takes off his seat belt and opens the door.
“Thanks for the ride,” he climbs out.
“Draco wait! I’m sorry. Look, I am hosting a small get together at my flat on Saturday. You should come.”
He says something about thinking about it and then closes the door, heading for his apartment before she ropes him into even more plans he won’t enjoy.
She waits until he is safely inside before driving off.
Friday morning and Draco is pleased to find Granger hasn’t left yet. Laura is covering the magical side of the store so Granger is ensuring she can’t find herself trapped or hurt by anything in the store. Which means setting up wards and completing some of the simpler cursed objects.
“How was your night?” She comes sweeping in.
It’s become a sort of routine. She interrupts his reading and he acts as though he is really bothered by it.
“Loud. Pansy had a good time though,” he sets down his book- The Pelican Brief.
“I’m sure she did. I’m grateful she has a new person to drag out at night,” she laughs.
Draco pictures Granger in bar attire. No loose jumpers and long jeans. No, Draco pictures a tiny skirt and a bare midriff. Maybe a shirt that ties at the neck. Something dark, edgy. Maybe she’d wear that dark makeup that did Sophie no favours but would probably make Granger’s eyes seem brighter.
“How was your night?”
“It was good. Mason’s parents watched Levi- they didn’t want to go more than a few days without seeing him. I had a date,” she mentions casually, tapping the top book of Draco’s restock pile.
A date.
“And it was… good?”
She shrugs.
“It was fine. Nice to get out of the house. Have you got the sales report for last week? I’m just trying to get the bank deposit together for both sides of the store before I leave.”
Fine. Not exactly a glowing review. Who was she out with?
“Yeah, sure. It’s right here,” he passes her the sales report. She sits down beside him and starts filling out the blank boxes on the form.
So… her date was fine. She’s not exactly gushing.
Draco watches the pen move and searches for something to say.
“You should ask me to dinner,” she carries on writing.
“Dinner?” He asks, his throat dry. He swallows, hoping it isn’t noticeable.
“Dinner.”
“I can’t cook,” he coughs out.
She smiles.
“So take me out. Somewhere close by, so we can walk. Pansy mentioned to me how much you despise her car.”
Draco nods, remembering how sharply Parkinson had taken turns.
“I’ll pick someplace,” Draco confirms.
How he’ll pick a place he has no idea.
“Excellent. Is Monday alright with you? I’ve already got a sitter.”
He nods and then sits there, still watching her pen move.
After she is finished she asks him to sign it and he does.
Then, she wishes him a good weekend. Just like that.
Draco asks every patron he has over the next two days where they like to eat. It is a level of socialisation he vows never to repeat.
But he picks a restaurant. The perfect restaurant. It’s Indian, like the takeaway Granger had brought in last week for lunch.
The twenty something woman who recommended it said it was “poorly lit in the best way.”
Draco hadn’t been sure what that meant so he walks to it Sunday night, peering in and finding she had given an apt description. It would be cosy, welcoming, and new.
Draco is going on a date with Granger. Tomorrow. Here.
On his walk home, he wonders if he should bring her anything. They are going straight from work, so he’ll need to have it beforehand. Maybe he can run out on his lunch, buy her flowers. That’s something people do before going on a date, right?
Salazar, Draco is out of his depth. But he is fine with that. More than fine, actually.