Hermione glared furiously at the menu at this extremely elite restaurant.
It had only been 15 minutes since the moment she sat down, the maitre d' had gently placed the cloth napkin in her lap and avoided contact with the blond bastard who sat across from her.
She should be at home enjoying a glass of wine, Crocks at her feet while she read a good historical novel in the comfort of her sofa. But no, she had to accept that damn dinner.
- Glad to have your "lovely" company tonight.
- Only because I had to - she murmured, not looking up from the menu, not caring what chose.
- Two dates of the week are what you established in the bloody relationship contract, I'm just fulfilling my part.
Hermione avoided rolling her eyes and sighed, putting down the menu after choosing, which levitated to the counter where a witch was already taking the order.
- May I know why you gave me that frowning look, on this beautiful night? Personally, I find that little angry frown on your face adorable, but to the rest of the restaurant, they might think we're at the fight and...
- How would you be if I walked around Diagon Alley with a six-foot brunette and flirted around corners like a clueless sycophant single?
Draco dropped his smile, his plan had worked, and she had seen the photos at the Witch Weekly. Perfect, he thought.
- Jealous Granger?
- I don't like you, so, no...
- True, you don't like - he said with a devilish smile - You love me...
