Let Me Buy You a Drink

A figure slid onto the barstool next to her and ordered a beer. It didn't matter what pub she ended up in, he always found her. Going to Muggle London hadn't even stopped him this time. "Do we really have to play this game?"

He glanced over at her but didn't say anything.

She turned her whole body and leaned close to him. "Was seven years of torture not enough for you?" she whispered harshly.

His platinum locks were falling in his face when he turned to her. "I'm not aiming to torture you," he said simply.

Like she believed that! "Then why are you here?" she asked, then lowered her voice. "In a Muggle pub?"

He shrugged and turned back to the bar. "I've been to all the Magical pubs. I wanted to try something new."

This had been going on for a week and she was fed up. She reached into her pocket and grabbed a couple quid and threw it on the bar for her drink. Clearly her days in a pub were over because he always seemed to find her.

She was stomping her way down the sidewalk when it hit her. "Hang on!"

"What?"

The voice startled her and she whirled around to see Draco standing a few meters behind her.

"I shouldn't have to leave! We won!" she exclaimed as if she had just realized it.

He looked at her in confusion. "This has nothing to do with the war. It doesn't even have anything to do with mag—" He looked around and lowered his voice. "Our world."

She scoffed. "What does that mean?" she asked, crossing her arms. "What could you possibly want?"

He looked away and shrugged. "For starters, I'd like to know why you frequent pubs."

To say she was speechless would have been an understatement; she couldn't conjure a coherent thought. She stared at him, her mouth hanging open, and she uncrossed her arms. "It's none of your business."

"I suppose not. I only wondered," he whispered softly.

The compassion in his voice confused her. This was Draco Malfoy after all…at least, it looked like him anyway. He wasn't supposed to wonder about her, even if the war had changed things.

"Does it have anything to do with Weasley?"

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I'll reiterate that it's none of your business, but yes." It had everything to do with Weasley…

She was poised to leave again when he took another step toward her. "What has he done?"

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "Why do you care? You shouldn't care!" Her shoulders relaxed. "I shouldn't even be curious."

"I'm curious," he whispered and took a few more steps toward her.

She held out her hand to stop him. "Don't be," she retorted seriously. "Leave me alone, Malfoy."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked another patron in the quiet, little pub.

"Just whatever's on tap, cheers," an all too familiar voice said two spaces away.

Hermione looked up from her half full glass and there he was. She took another swig and moved to leave but changed her mind. She had every right to stay there. She was the one who was Muggle born after all. Besides, she was tired of running from him and today had been worse than usual and she really wanted to stay right where she was.

"How do you do it?" she asked without looking up. He would know she was talking to him. After all, there were only two more patrons in the room and it was nearly two in the morning. "How do you always find me?"

He nodded his thanks to the barkeep when he was handed his drink and he picked it up and moved next to her. "Process of elimination."

She shook her head slowly, not believing him. "I bet you've got a Marauder's Map of London or something hidden in your pocket."

He ignored her. "Let me buy you a drink?"

Her eyes narrowed at him and she looked down at her nearly empty pint. Well if he wasn't threatening her, she could let him supply her with another glass. Its not like she had endless amounts of money after all…and he had caused her to waste several pints in the past week. "Have you even got the proper currency?"

He smirked at her with his classic, devil-may-care smirk. It had been a long time since she had seen it grace his face. He almost looked appealing. "I'm always prepared. Barkeep, another for the lady!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Apparently he was also handy with a double entendre. But she was swiftly handed another drink, so she had no right to complain. "So what exactly possessed you to buy me a drink and ask me probing, personal questions?"

He shrugged. "After the war, my mother had a change of heart and I'm learning from her. Trying to make amends."

She nodded and sipped her drink. She already knew that, in a way. "Yes, I received your mother's amends last month. I didn't immediately realize it was from her since she used only her maiden name. But it was a good boost for my company."

"Good, but I'm choosing to make my amends in person. Starting with you."

She rolled her eyes again. Perhaps the alcohol was getting to her head. "Aren't I special?" she mumbled.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw his eyes slide shut and he inhaled deeply. A little bit of the old Malfoy must still be in there. Only, he surprised her. "You are special."

She choked on the liquid in her mouth and quickly swallowed. Her eyes were as wide as a galleon when she looked over at him. "You've got to be an imposter or something because the Draco Malfoy that I know would never say I was special. At least not seriously. Sarcastically, perhaps, but not seriously."

"Well, the Hermione I knew wasn't exactly a mean drunk either—"

Her jaw fell open. The alcohol was definitely getting to her. "Ahh, give it enough time and the real Malfoy comes out." She laughed mirthlessly. "You didn't know me at all, Malfoy, remember? You hated me. You took every opportunity you had to make my life miserable."

He nodded and watched her take another large swig of the quickly disappearing pint. This was why he followed her around to pubs. He had walked her home twice without her even realizing it was him. "I did that, yes, and I'm sorry."

"That's right," she said, her words starting to slur. "Because we won." She pointed a finger at his chest. "You're not on top any more. We won. We're famous! Everybody wants to be our friend." She looked back down at her glass and seemed to lose some of her bravado. "Everyone wants to be Harry's friend and Ron's friend. Not me, they don't care about me," she mumbled and tears formed in her eyes. "Everyone wants to be with Ron and he doesn't want to be with me."

She started to sway and he caught her before she fell off of the stool. Hermione had yet to learn that she was an extreme lightweight.

"Ok, Granger, I think you've had enough. Time to go home," he said as he pulled out two English bank notes then told the barkeeper to keep the change.

"I'm not going home with you!" she yelled indignantly, though it was hard to make out a few of the words. "What kind of woman do you think I am?"

"A very drunk one," he mumbled back as he helped her with her coat. "Who is far from home in a rather dodgy part of London."

She looked at him and blinked absently. "You're maybe some right."

He nodded and sighed. He shouldn't have bought her another drink. "Exactly. Let's get you home."