Meet Your Match

1. The Last Night Of Our Past Lives

“I’m so glad you’re here! There’s someone I’ve been dying for you to meet.”

Hermione had only just finished hanging up her coat when Shannon pressed a glass of champagne into one of her hands and grabbed ahold of the other. She led her through the crowded house, continuing her monologue.

“He’s very smart. Funny, but dry. So sweet, only he’d kill me for saying that. He doesn’t say much, but what he does say is always fantastic.” She peered back over her shoulder to give Hermione a significant look. “And he’s fucking beautiful.”

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Shannon was always playing matchmaker for the people around her. Strangely, the habit didn’t make her seem frivolous or shallow to Hermione like it had with Lavender or Parvati. Shannon had good taste and was a good judge of character, and she had known Hermione since she was a baby. She had never tried to set Hermione up before though, and she was genuinely curious to meet the bloke that had her so excited. 

Of course dating a Muggle came with a unique set of challenges. She hadn’t really figured out how it would be possible to develop enough of a relationship with someone to be worth the risk of breaking the Statute of Secrecy when she’d first have to lie about the vast majority of her life. To be fair, she hadn’t really given anyone she’d met yet much of a chance. And not every relationship had to be so serious. It had been a while... maybe she could just—

That line of thinking was interrupted as they reached the kitchen, clearly Shannon’s intended destination. Several people were scattered about, fixing drinks and chatting. A tall man with platinum blond hair was leaning against the kitchen island with his back to them. Shannon dropped Hermione’s hand in favour of gripping her by the shoulders and marched her purposefully in front of him. 

“Draco,” Shannon started excitedly, getting his attention. “This is the friend I was telling you about.” She let go of Hermione and stepped to the side, gesturing between them. “Hermione, this is Draco.”

Hermione stared. She could feel the shock written into every feature on her face, but she couldn’t get it under control. Draco Malfoy was standing in a Muggle kitchen surrounded by her Muggle friends in a pair of black jeans and a grey jumper and looking completely at home. The fact that her surprise was clearly reflected on his own face did little to comfort her. 

His hair was different from the last time she’d seen him. Shorter on the sides and longer on the top; he wore it swept to the side and back, off his forehead. His features had continued to fill out, too. The pointiness of his youth was now completely smoothed into an angular jawline. The high cheekbones that had become so prominent as his condition worsened during their sixth year now sat proudly on a fuller, healthier face. But she could see the war in his eyes. The colour of the icy grey rings was the same, but the silver rays that used to make them glitter with mischief and malice seemed subdued. They seemed to draw ever inward now, pulling her gaze toward the twin black holes of his pupils as though she might fall into that darkness forever. Yes, he was still fucking beautiful.

Hermione suddenly realised that entirely too much time had passed in which she and Malfoy had simply stared at each other. Shannon was glancing back and forth between them looking bemused.

“You two know each other?” she finally asked Hermione.

“Yes,” Hermione replied slowly, her eyes never leaving Malfoy’s face. “We went to school together.”