Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended.

Okay. On a scale of socially acceptable to wholly inappropriate—how wrong is it for me to be turned on right now?

Uh…xx

…should I be concerned? xx

Hermione lifted her eyes from her iPhone screen, thumbs hovering over the digital keyboard as she glanced across the busy salon to the blond that sat two chairs away from the nine year old she was oh-so-graciously watching for her best friend and his wife.

Today was supposed to be a gift to the happy couple. She was watching Teddy so they could see the OBGYN without having to worry about keeping their rambunctious godson occupied. On the agenda was a haircut, some frozen-yogurt, and a mall trip where she would likely spend too much money on the kid and eat far too many pretzel bites (because cheese). It was supposed to be fun.

She was most definitely not supposed to pine after some random stranger with a too posh accent on their very first stop.

Teddy's 9. He can watch himself for like 15 while I convince a complete stranger to fuck me in the bathroom.

I say go for it—a little independence won't be bad for him. xx

Harry said no. xx

God, he's such a bummer. Why did you marry him?

Huge cock. xx

GAH!

I'm serious… massive. xx

::vomit emoji::

Jamming her thumb into the side button, she quickly flipped her phone face down on her lap, trying her best to rid herself of the mental image now ingrained in her mind. Harry had been her best friend for nearly five years, and even finding each other well into adulthood, she thought of him more as a brother than anything else. Which meant absolutely no talk of sex, or anatomy.

"—I'm obviously biased, but yes. He's a great kid. Very smart."

Her eyes drifted back across the room to the reason that whole exchange began, and she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth curiously, trying to hear whatever tidbits of conversation she could over the busy room.

He was British, that much was fairly obvious, but his accent differed from the ex-pats she'd met before. It was higher—like the way American actors spoke when they put on some noble accent to play royals from long ago. When she first heard it cut through the busy room, she'd thought he was faking it for attention, but the longer he kept talking, the more believable it sounded.

"He's four. Very into Thomas the Tank Engine and garbage trucks—though I think the latter must be an American thing. Never really fancied playing with rubbish as a kid, myself."

She couldn't get a real good look at him, just passing glances in the mirror as the stylist moved around, but there was something about him, some sort of magnetism that drew her in.

Truth be told, it was probably the accent.

God, she loved that accent.

Clearly, her ongoing yearlong booty call sessions with yet another British man that she most definitely shouldn't be sleeping with showed how weak she was for that fucking accent.

"Minnie! What do you think?!" A bright flash of aquamarine burst into her line of sight and Hermione jumped, startled from her daydream. Before her stood the nine-year old—the whole reason she braved a fucking Supercuts on a Saturday afternoon. "Pretty slick, right?" Running a hand along the shaved side of his hair, Teddy's fingertips grazed the outside edge of a freshly cut Mohawk, jade green eyes dancing with excitement.

"Oh… they're going to kill me." Hermione laughed, eyebrows nearly hitting her hairline as she took in not only the brazen cut, but the bright splash of color. Reaching out, she touched her fingers to the waxed tip, rolling the strands of his once honey-brown hair carefully. "When I said you could do whatever—"

"It's wash out, ma'am," the stylist piped up from where she stood behind Teddy.

Hermione instantly grimaced, wrinkling her nose. Ma'am? She'd just turned thirty a month ago. She was hardly old enough to be called ma'am.

"Ha! Ma'am," Teddy echoed, as if reading her damn mind like the child prodigy he was. "You're old."

"Oh, fuck off, brat." Hermione could feel the oxygen being sucked from the room by the soccer moms around her, gasping at her colorful dismissal. She couldn't care less about what they thought. She wasn't Teddy's mother—technically, she wasn't his anything. Just the cool friend of his adoptive parents. Pushing up from the chair, she pulled the now blue-haired boy to her side in a quick hug, playfully nudging him with her hip.

Teddy looped his thin arms around her middle. His hands didn't quite meet around her lower back, reminding her that she desperately needed to lose that extra fifteen pounds she'd managed to pack on over summer (because cheese… and beer… and hotdogs… and basically all food). "We still goin' to get froyo?"

"I guess." Hermione ran her hand across his freshly shaven head, chipped nails scratching lightly against the stubbled hair. For as much as Harry and Ginny might disapprove of their godson's new hairstyle, they would have to admit, it suited him.

Carefree. Bold. Happy.

Teddy had already had such a hard life by the young age of nine, and if having a blue mohawk made the boy happy, she would willingly take the brunt of their temporary annoyance.

Slipping her hand into the front pocket of her joggers, she withdrew a folded up twenty dollar bill and held it out for him. "Go get us started next door?"

"Strawberry?"

"With gummy bears and almonds."

"Thanks Minnie!" He plucked the twenty from her fingers and darted out of the door, making a beeline across the courtyard for the Pinkberry that sat adjacent to the salon.

Hermione laughed, watching as he nearly ran head first into a passing couple on his way. She lingered, making sure he made it into the shop safely before pulling her eyes away. The last thing she needed was Teddy being kidnapped or injured on her watch. Though, to be fair, she was almost certain Harry had accidentally left him at the grocery store on more than one occasion.

"Strawberry with gummies and almonds? What kind of sociopath are you?"

Her stomach tightened and a wave of warmth bloomed across her cheeks as she turned towards the voice—the same voice she'd been trying to listen to all afternoon. Before her stood the tall and impossibly handsome blond because of-fucking-course it wasn't enough for him just to have a dreamy accent, he had to be unfairly attractive, too. He had a sharp jaw and a well angled nose like some sort of oil painting from long ago that hung in a stuffy gallery. He was easily a foot taller than her, if not more, and judging by the way his button down clung to his frame like it was fucking made for him, he was fit—or whatever that absurd word was Ginny used.

"I like crunchy things." The words left her mouth before she could come up with literally any other retort that made her seem charming, or cute, or, well, definitely not the type of women who admitted to liking crunchy things.

"If that's the case, almonds I get, but, and correct me if I'm wrong, gummies aren't crunchy."

"Well, when they're in the froyo, they get hard because they kind of freeze once it's all mixed together, and when you add the almonds, it's like a sweet and salty snack." Hermione shuffled her weight from one foot to the other, aged Chuck Taylors squeaking on the linoleum floor.

"So you mix up this monstrosity to freeze the gummy?" The blond cocked a brow, gray eyes peering down at her with an intensity that should've been illegal. Despite the false fire in his words, she couldn't help but notice the way his lips lifted in just the hint of a smile. He lingered closer than strictly necessary, just past the point of friendly stranger and inching into the territory of flirtatious.

"No. I mix up this deliciousness because it's the only proper way to eat frozen yogurt."

"Ah, well, I'd have to argue there. Clearly your flavor palate is a bit off."

"Oh? And what would you suggest then? Wait, let me guess…" Hermione cocked her head to the side, crossing her arms over her bust as she made a show of looking him up and down. He wore nice jeans she knew to be Hudson by the small flag embellishment on the front pocket, and a pair of Lacoste sneakers. While they were not her brand of choice, she knew it was fairly popular with the Brits. "Chocolate on chocolate?"

"Nope."

"Vanilla with peanut butter sauce?"

"Wow,. You're not good at this, are you?" He laughed, flashing that charming smile her way again.

Shaking her head, Hermione tucked some of her stray curls behind her ear. "Guess not." She wasn't really trying to be right. If anything, she was just dragging out the conversation so she could enjoy the dulcet sound of his voice for just a bit longer. "I… I should probably pay."

"Oh, right, so you can go enjoy froyo with your son." The blond stepped aside from where he'd moved by the register, sweeping a hand in front of her to let her pass.

"Son?" Hermione furrowed her brows as she moved in front of the stylist and held out her debit card. "Oh! You mean Teddy? He's not my kid. He's my friends'… well, son I suppose." Harry and Ginny's adoption paperwork had only just been finalized but they'd had the boy since infancy. Technically 'son' was the appropriate term—though Harry made it known he was never going to replace Teddy's late father.

"You had to think about it?"

"It's complicated." Accepting her card back, she quickly tucked it into her wallet before signing the receipt. She made sure to leave a nice tip for the stylist for not only managing to cut Teddy's hair, but also dealing with the horrendous show of her flirting with the too-hot blond. The man was very clearly out of her league, but apparently that was her type now: tall, hot, British.

On any scale, this man was obviously a ten. Hermione, on the other hand, was a seven on a good day—which was not today. Day old make-up still crusted her lashes and her hair was more frizz than curl. Although she couldn't be certain, she was fairly positive the joggers she'd selected in her haste to make it to Harry's earlier were dirty.

"Maybe you can explain it to me sometime over frozen yogurt—my treat as long as I get to order."

Her pen froze on the signature line, stopping halfway through the end of her surname and she shot a surprised glance up at the stylist, as if double checking to make sure she'd heard the blond right. Had he just… No, definitely not.

"Ha—riiight." Hermione finished her name with a flourish and she slid the receipt across the counter before dropping the pen back in the wire-mesh basket.

Men like that blond didn't go on dates with women like her. Hell, even with Theo it was just a late-night, come over and fuck each other stupid understanding. No public meet-ups. Ever. Partially because she didn't want to admit that she was fucking her semi-friend's baby-daddy. Partially because it was less complicated—though, truthfully, she wondered if Theo found the arrangement advantageous. He got his nut without having to admit he was slumming it with a seven.

Turning from the counter, she flashed a small smile toward the blond, tucking her wallet into her beaded handbag. "Well, have a nice day." Side stepping around the man, she moved through the busy seating area, careful to avoid the gaggle of teenagers that'd entered shortly after Teddy's departure.

She made it just inside the Pinkberry, the gleaming white and green decor assaulting her senses as her eyes adjusted to the bright fluorescent lighting. Why on earth their marketing department insisted on 60 watt lighting with shiny white tile was beyond her, but it definitely made her want to spend as little time as possible inside the hell hole.

"Minnie! Over here." Teddy was across the room, arm waving in the air wildly from a table he'd snagged in the far corner, and she couldn't help but laugh at his already chocolate smeared lips.

Edging around a table with a family of four, Hermione claimed the seat opposite Teddy, reaching for the bowl of frozen yogurt awaiting her. Picking up her spoon, she poked through the pink yogurt curiously. "Man, Tedward, you got the ratio right. Good job."

"Of course I did. I'm like… the best at making froyo," Teddy scoffed around his plastic spoon, his eyes rolling as he leaned forward to scoop up another large bite. "Uncle Harry tells me so all the time."

"And we both know he never lies."

"Exactly. So where are we going next?"

"Well… we've got a couple choices." Hermione swirled her spoon through the pink concoction, making sure to thoroughly mix in the gummy bears and almonds. "We could go to my apartment, order pizza, and watch some tv."

"Boring, pass," Teddy replied, wrinkling his nose.

"Okay. Option two: I need to run to Target. So, shopping, popcorn, and Icees—the works."

"Ugh. Seriously, Minnie?" Teddy set his spoon down in his bowl, leveling his gaze on her. "What do I look like? Your errand boy?"

A laugh bubbled up from Hermione's throat, her free hand lifting to press against her lips. Though Teddy was not Harry and Ginny's biological son, she couldn't help but see glimpses of her best friends in him: the way he carried himself, the stern downturn of his lips, and the critical stare. "Okay, okay, fine. No Target. What about the Great Mall?"

"Can I get boba?"

"I suppose. I mean you are eating froyo right now."

"Yeah, but this is lunch. Boba will be our treat."

It was no wonder she'd gained weight this last year. Between her little dates with Teddy, and marathon eating with her pregnant friend, it was honestly a wonder she'd only managed to pick up fifteen pounds. "Alright, bottomless pit. Boba for you, coffee for me."

"Excuse me, I think you forgot something in the salon."

The familiar baritone cut through the low murmur of conversation clouding the room, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Shifting in her chair, Hermione looked over her shoulder to find the too handsome blond standing just behind her. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Lifting his hand from his pocket, he held a folded receipt between his fingers. He extended his hand towards her, his brows lifting slightly in a look akin to hope.

The receipt.

He came over to give her… the receipt? Maybe it was a British thing. Maybe he was just being nice. Maybe he—

She took the paper, unfolding it to reveal a name and number scrawled across the inky print of what looked to be his own bill. "Draco?" Hermione cocked her brow as she lifted her eyes. "Is that a fake name?"

"Clearly—I only give my real name on the third date." He slipped his hands into his pockets, his face blank, void of any emotion that might give away the truth. Hermione swept her tongue across her lips, eyes flickering between the receipt and the blond, as if double checking this was really happening and not some daydream.

"Oh… Well, thanks?"

Draco nodded, rocking between the heels and balls of his feet as he cocked his head expectantly at her. "Are you… going to tell me your name?" he finally questioned after several moments of awkward silence punctuated by Teddy noisily slurping the last of his frozen yogurt from his bowl.

"Her name's Hermione, but I call her Minnie." Teddy set down his bowl, a ring of chocolate running around the corners of his mouth and dotting his nose.

Grabbing a napkin from the silver canister, she thrust it across the table towards the boy. "Hush, Teddy."

"Like the mouse?" Draco ignored her, his attention now on the blue-haired boy as he dragged the paper napkin around his lips to collect the chocolate smears.

"Exactly!"

"Clever." Draco hummed, his lips pursing to the corner of his mouth as he gave a single nod in approval. "Thank you for your assistance, Teddy. I'll let you two get back to your yogurt. It was nice meeting you, Hermione. I'll hear from you soon, yeah?"

Her thumb rubbed small, nervous circles across the corner of the paper as she watched him begin to back away from the table, gray eyes still locked on her.

She should say something—anything. She should ask him what his game was. Why would someone like him be interested in a woman whose socks didn't even match?

But all she could do was nod. Her tongue felt thick and heavy as she watched him slip through the door, the chime from the electronic notification ringing in her ears when she looked down at the receipt again, then up to Teddy, who seemed none the wiser to just how utterly perplexed she felt.

"So… you going to finish that?" Teddy gestured to her hardly touched bowl, his tongue sweeping across his lips hungrily.

"I—you know what? No. Go ahead." Pushing it towards him with a small laugh, Hermione settled back into her seat. Shifting to retrieve her phone from her pocket, she unlocked the screen with a quick swipe of her thumb.

A series of messages from Ginny awaited her, the little red icon glaring at her angrily from her queue.

I might have to find a new OB. xx

Harry was playing with the stirrups when the doctor walked in. xx

She was not amused. xx

In other news: baby looks great. Measuring on time. xx

The final message was followed by a selfie of the pair. Ginny was still in the hideous mint green gown from the hospital with a wide smile plastered on her face. Harry was beside her looking as handsome as ever in a burgundy and navy striped shirt, pointing to the small monitor next them. On the tiny grainy screen sat the profile image of their unborn child curled up on his back.

Her smile widened, her heart filling at the image of her friends and their growing little family. Pressing on the image, she saved it to her phone before turning the screen towards Teddy. "Look, your brother's getting big."

Teddy took the phone, eyes narrowing as he examined the screen before he looked up to her, a toothy smile stretched across his lips. "Can we get him something all the mall? Something for the nursery? Maybe one of those little jumpers to match Uncle Harry?"

"Sounds like a plan." He could have asked for anything, a new video game or a far too expensive sweatshirt from that one store he liked so much, but instead, he wanted to take home a gift for his unborn sibling. How was she ever going to be able to tell him no? "Eat the rest so we can get out of here."

"Okay!" He snatched up the bowl, already lifting a spoonful of gummy bears towards his mouth. "You're going to text him, right?"

"I'm sorry—what?"

"That Draco dude… you going to text him?"

Hermione lifted her shoulders in a small shrug, tapping the receipt on the edge of the table. "I don't know… should I?"

"How the heck would I know? I'm nine years old!" Teddy quipped over a mouthful of gummy bears, nose wrinkling as he shook his head.

Author's Note:

Oh hey... what's up? Here's a story I definitely shouldn't be starting but ya know... life.

Story inspirations comes from a text conversation I was having with LumosLyra where I fell in love, married and hence divorced a gorgeous brit (with a knicker soaking accent) in the span of 30 minutes while waiting at a Great Clips.

Expect weekly updates for the foreseeable future.

Alpha Love: LumosLyra
Beta Love: DreamsofDramione

Shout out to InLovewithForever who I also used as a sounding board to make sure this plot wasn't too much—though, let's be real... it's about as extra as I am. aka .much.

until next time. xx