Scene Three

"I'm getting married, you know."

Hermione glanced up from her wine glass, swirling slowly it before sipping the deep red liquid. She finally acknowledged him with a nod. "I heard."

He raised a golden eyebrow, lips smirking as he finished his whiskey and called for another.

"What, no shouting, no sobbing, no nothing?" he asked.

"Would you feel better about getting married if I threw myself at your feet, begging you to take me instead?" she asked pointedly. She was rewarded when he grumbled.

"Doubt it." He leaned in closer over the table. "Some sort of reaction would be nice, though, Granger. You can quit the ice queen routine with me, you know."

Hermione leaned in as well, her face not far from his. "If you drop the snarky bastard routine, Malfoy."

Draco fell back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you at least surprised? Curious? Upset?" he asked.

"Is that what you're waiting for?" Hermione laughed, emptying her glass and signaling for a second. "For me to start sobbing over the loss of bloody prat like you? Keep waiting."

"You're a real piece of work, you know."

"So you've said," she replied. "Maybe that's why you like me so much."

Draco snorted. "I certainly do not. I just told you I'm getting married, after all."

"Because you wanted to get a reaction out of me," she pointed out.

"Usually your reactions are much more entertaining," he muttered.

"Sorry to disappoint you," she replied. He rolled his eyes and she smiled. He was playing at petulance because she was right, and she couldn't resist bantering with him a bit more, because she so rarely had the upper hand in their verbal matches.

"Astoria is a lucky girl," she said, smiling mischievously. "When's the big day, then?"

"Too soon," he muttered. The whiskey was suddenly downed in one quick pull. "Too damn soon."

Surprised at a rare show of genuine emotion, Hermione reached across the table for his hand, but stopped herself, instead reaching out to smooth the tablecloth. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You don't have cold feet, do you?"

"Granger, I don't know what your Muggle mind is talking about, but if you mean, do I want to get married, the answer is most definitely not." He glanced around the restaurant, as if anyone they knew might catch them sharing dinner at Hermione's favorite Muggle restaurant in south London, let alone hear what he might say about his upcoming nuptials.

"Then don’t," she said simply, pulling her hand back and making room for the salad plate the waiter had just placed in front of her.

He snorted again. "I don't have a choice."

"You're a grown man. Of course you do."

"I'm a pure-blood wizard, Granger. I'm expected to carry on the family name with a pure-blood witch."

"Of course," she murmured. "Then what's the problem again?"

"Other than spending the rest of my life with the same woman? Waking up next to her, eating every meal with her, raising a brood of mewling brats with her?" He picked at the salad that was placed in front of him. "Sounds like hell to me."

Hermione shrugged; it sounded like a wonderful thing to her, but she could certainly see how Draco Malfoy might not be cut out for marriage. "Not if you love her."

"I don't," he snapped.

"Then don't get married," she snapped back. "Look, it's not my fault, Draco, so don't have a go at me just because you can't stand up to you family's stubborn pride."

Draco scowled, but did not reply. They were silent for a while. "I blame you, you know."

Hermione gave him a skeptical look over her plate. "For getting married?"

"For not wanting to get married," he replied, watching her enigmatically.

"And how is that my fault?" she asked. The waiter brought their main course, and Draco did not immediately answer. She did, however, feel his foot begin to caress her leg under the table. "Oh."

"Come home with me, Hermione," he said, his voice low. It was one of those rare occasions where he dropped the pretense and used her first name. "Just this once."

Hermione shifted in her seat, away from Draco's tantalizing foot. "No."

"I want it," he whispered, his foot sliding back up her calf once more, sending shivers through her body. "I need you."

"You need a kick in the arse, Malfoy."

He dropped his foot and cut savagely at the meat in front of him, then narrowed his eyes at her as he chewed. "You are such a sodding tease."

"I'm a friend," said Hermione, though she suddenly had her doubts. A chance meeting with Draco Malfoy at a Muggle bookshop had—oddly enough—led to coffee. Coffee had led to a few lunch meetings, and finally that night's dinner. Though he had dropped subtle hints, she had never really entertained the idea that there was something more going on. Rather, she was surprised to find that Draco Malfoy was smart, sharp, and surprisingly in need of a friend—and that she now enjoyed his company instead of loathed it.

She had been a friend…until now. She could feel her body respond to his words, his pain, his caress. A part of her was even feeling loss at the thought that once he married, their secret meals would likely be over. She wouldn't admit it to him, but she looked forward to their covert meetings. They were a welcome respite from the tediousness of her day job and the lackluster love life she had once had with Ron.

The expression on Draco's face told her these meetings had become something more to him, as well. It occurred to her that maybe, for once in his life, he was being honest with her. Maybe he meant it. And maybe she was being a tease…when perhaps she should be more than a friend.

"I'm sorry," she finally murmured, picking at her own entrée. She didn't feel much like eating now, when this strange feeling of doubt and curiosity was taking hold in the pit of her stomach.

"For what?" asked Draco, glancing at her with the skeptical look he wore so well. "For being a tease? Just a friend?"

"For that, and for your wedding. I wish I could congratulate you, but if you're that unhappy about it…" She trailed off with a shrug.

"I am," he replied emphatically. "No thanks to you."

Hermione placed her fork down on the plate and leaned closer. "That's the second time you've said that, Malfoy. Do you mean it?"

He took a sip of whiskey before replying. "You think I just want to get in your knickers."

"Of course I do," she acknowledged. "And yet…" She hesitated, unsure what to say. To her amazement, he reached across the table and took her hand. He rarely touched her, and she was surprised to find his grasp both gentle and earnest.

"Yet what?" he asked.

"Yet I can't help but wonder if there really is more to what you're saying," she replied softly.

Draco cocked an eyebrow at her again. How she had hated that in school! Yet now it was simply one of his quirks, a defense mechanism she recognized as a way to hide his real feelings. To her surprise, he leaned suddenly across the table and kissed her. It was tender at first, but through the slits of her eyelashes, she could see Draco's eyes widen in surprise when she didn't pull away. He moved closer, his other hand coming up to cup her face as his kiss grew deeper, more passionate. Hermione felt something once more, deep down in the pit of her stomach, and finally pulled away rather breathlessly.

He stared at her, a mixture of defiance and disbelief. "Does that answer your question?"

She nodded, wiping her mouth on her napkin and taking a sip of wine to hide her embarrassed flush. "Yes. Both of them."

"So what about my question, then?" he asked. He motioned the waiter over. "Care to reconsider your answer?"

Tilting her head and struggling to stay in control, Hermione gave him a small smile. "Yes, I would."

"And?" The waiter arrived, but Draco held up his hand. "What's your…reconsideration?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered, embarrassed it to say it in front of the waiter, even though he couldn't possibly know what they were talking about. Draco smiled, not a smirk or a sneer, but a real smile that almost reached his eyes, though not quite. It occurred to her that if she could do that, there might be hope for him after all.

"I'll take the check, then," Draco told the waiter. He squeezed her hand, and Hermione felt a tingle shoot through her body. She had just agreed to go home with Draco Malfoy.

When he leaned over the kiss her again, she knew she had made the right decision.

* * *