When Draco Met Hermione

Chapter 9: A terrible date

Draco and Hermione's friendship developed a bit slowly, but surely. After that walk in the park, they went out to dinner and had a grand time. They both went about their own lives, dating people here and there and comparing notes. They still had their issues as far as what they thought about men and women, but any stranger on the street who saw them arguing (which was quite often) would think it was just a lover's spat. But they weren't lovers, they were friends, which they were both glad to point out to each and every person they met. However, it wasn't unusual to see them walking arm in arm from the grocer's to Hermione's apartment, or from some fancy shop on fifth avenue to Draco's monstrosity of an apartment.

It was Friday evening and Draco was lying in bed playing with a bobble head of a dragon that Hermione had found in Tribeca earlier that week. On the TV in his room, Casablancawas playing. It had been running three or four times that day. Draco stared at Ingrid Bergman on the screen and thought of Hermione. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table. It read 12:47 A.M. It was Saturday morning already. Draco had just returned a short while back from an extremely horrid date with a model that lived a few buildings down from his. He lay back and tuned out Humphrey Bogart's voice and replayed the conversation they had at dinner that evening....

Draco sat across from one of the most beautiful women he had ever had a chance to meet and date for that matter. Her ebony hair was flowing down her back like a sheet of black silk. He was wondering if her hair was as soft as silk. He had stopped listening to her a few minutes after they had sat down to eat at some ridiculous place called *R.A.W. downtown. It was some new fangled idea some idiot had thought up where the food was cooked at no more than a hundred and eighteen degrees. He was dying to eat a hamburger. The woman in front of him was obviously talking. He could see her sumptuous red lips moving, occasionally a flash of pink tongue darting out to lick them. He was thinking of how much he wanted to kiss her.......he hadn't really done much snogging (or shagging for that matter) in almost a week.....he was feeling vulnerable.....lustful..... "Draco...." Draco? Huh?

"Draco? Are you listening to me?!" A high pitched screechy sound interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and saw that Bridgette was staring at him with a glare. Her amber eyes flashed, and he gave her a weak smile as he swirled his wine in his glass.

"Yes dear, continue with what you were saying." Draco drawled.

"Oh, well, like I was saying, I bought this fantastic purse over at PRADA and can you believe this? They had NO IDEA who I was! I mean, have I not graced the cover of Vogue, what, like 3 times? I mean, that was really awful of them not to say anything right? Right Drakey?"

Draco cringed. Every time, to no end, the woman he was dating, even his ex-wife Helen, had called him 'Drakey.' Hermione was the only one who never called him that....she thought it sounded childish and common....which it did.....Hermione....

"DRAKEY? Hello? Good, you're listening to me again, so I was at PRADA and the woman had the nerve to ask me if I wanted a larger size in this dress," said Bridgette, pointing to the mustard yellow piece of fabric that Draco supposed passed for a dress.

"Darling," said Draco in his drawling voice, "I think you look lovely. Why don't we order? I'm a bit famished." Draco signaled for the waiter and ordered for the both of them. He was sure whatever he ordered, some zucchini dish, would taste like bobbutubber pus, but he didn't care anymore. He wanted to go home and eat a big, juicy, well-done burger with a large pint of butterbeer. He was no longer interested in Bridgette's lips which were still moving, most likely ranting about some fashion thing or another that he could care less about.

Dinner was a quiet affair, at least on Draco's end. He didn't feel like wasting words on the woman in front of him. Plus, half the time she was busy waving to friends or running up to the bar where a photographer that she had to meet was standing.

Bridgette and Draco to a cab afterwards to a party uptown that a friend of Draco's was throwing. The dark, smoky interior of the apartment where the party was being held was the last place Draco wanted to be. Bridgette was already roaring drunk, seeing as she spent half of dinner running to the bar and having a drink with so and so, and what's-her-face. She was literally clawing at Draco's shirt, trying desperately to unbutton it while he waited in line for the loo. Normally, Draco wouldn't have minded one bit, but he was not interested at all and he had no idea why. He went to the bathroom, and when he emerged, Bridgette had latched her lips onto another woman's lips and they were busy groping each other in the dark through their fancy dresses to notice Draco walk by. He said his thanks to the host and left the building.....

And on his bed was where Draco was ending his night. Casablancaon the TV and a bobble-head toy to poke at. Well, he certainly had nothing else to poke since his date had run off to play slap and tickle with some woman at the party. He looked at the clock again, 1:29 AM, it read. He reached over the clock and picked up the phone. Out of all things muggle, the telephone was something that Draco found to be quite fascinating. It was definitely faster than an owl. He didn't even look at the keypad as his fingers dialed the familiar number. His gaze was fixed on the movie he was watching.

"Hello?" The familiar voice brought a smile to Draco's face.

~*~

Hermione's Friday evening was disastrous to say the least. It was 10:30 p.m. and she was sitting at the opera at the opening night of La Traviata next to a man who would be more at home at a say, FAO Schwartz? She had no idea how she even got stuck next to the man who was her date. Oh, right, Ginny.

"Herms! Trust me! Dylan is absolutely fantastic! He is a bit young, but he is so well-traveled! His mum is from Australia and his dad is from Connecticut and very rich! He's well mannered and he went to all the best schools, and Herms...he's so bloody good looking...."

Hermione cringed, and shook the conversation she had had with Ginny earlier that week concerning Dylan out of her head. Dylan at the moment was playing a video game on his cell phone, completely ignoring her and the show. Hermione looked at her watch and at the program. 'It's almost over....' And sure enough, at around 11 p.m., the show was over and relief washed over Hermione. She had been extremely embarrassed that her date had played video games throughout the whole opera. Once they were outside Dylan finally spoke.

"You know, that thing you dragged me to wasn't that bad. Did you see that woman with the gigantic tits onstage? Are you sure it wasn't some kind of stripper deal? Those things were heaving!" Hermione looked shocked. He was being serious! "Anyways, what do you say we grab something to eat? You look too good not to show off."

Hermione managed a smile at the compliment. 'Maybe the night isn't wasted after all,' she thought.

Wrong.

When he said grab something to eat she thought a fancy café, or a nice restaurant with good wine. No, she soon found herself in a loud and smoky club with music pumping far too loud for Hermione's comfort. She walked in and was taken aback at the scene that unfolded before her. Hundreds of people crammed into a giant warehouse in the meat-packing district of New York wearing absolutely horrid clothes that were barely held together, and from what she could see in the dim lighting, they weren't dancing, they were gyrating, for lack of a better word, to the loud bass-infused beat. Dylan grabbed her hand and led her up a few stairs to a red door. A rather large man sat on a stool next to the door on the landing. He nodded at Dylan and Hermione as they walked through the door. Inside the music was the same, but lower in volume, which bettered Hermione's mood, but only by a little. The décor of the room was red: red velvet couches, red walls, various shades of red pillows and hanging Chinese lanterns. A small bar was set up in the corner, and a small table was set up next to the bar with a small buffet set up. Hermione was starving and began to walk towards the buffet when someone grabbed onto her arm. She soon found herself swaying to the music looking at Dylan. He leaned in for a kiss and Hermione let him. She had never acted like this before, she never, ever kissed on the first date, but something about all the red, and perhaps the music was intoxicating. They headed towards the bar and began to drink. Hermione, after two drinks was feeling a bit lightheaded, she was never a big drinker. She then noticed that the room was practically empty. There were only four other couples in there room, many were completely engrossed in each other to notice anyone else around them. Before she knew it, Dylan was kissing her again and leading her into a part of the room that was curtained-off. She found herself on top of several huge pillows and Dylan was on top of her. It took her a moment to realize what was happening before she pushed him off and straightened out her dress. She looked at Dylan and didn't even say a word as she ran out of the curtained area, out the red door, out of the warehouse, and into a cab back to Chelseaand the comfort of her home.

It was a few minutes past one when she walked into her apartment. She closed the door and locked it, then leaned against it breathing heavily. She felt so stupid! She had just been out with a man, no, a boy, who was at least five years younger, brought to a club, and practically let herself be seduced by red décor and fancy drinks, oh, and soft squashy pillows. She couldn't date Dylan. He wasn't her type. He played video games during La Traviata! She took off her shoes and unzipped her dress. Hermione slipped on a night dress and climbed into bed without bothering to take off her make-up. She grabbed her remote and turned on her TV. Hermione looked at the channel guide and saw that Casablancawas on channel 11. She flipped to the channel and was about to bury herself in the comfort of her bed when suddenly, the phone on her bedside table rang. Hermione scowled and leaned over to pick up the phone.

"Hello?"

*the restaurant RAW that I mentioned was from the episode of Sex and the City that aired this past Sunday. Episode 2 of the 5^th season. Very funny.