Dramione Drabbles

Part 2

The ice clinked against the glass as Draco Malfoy swirled his drink, a smirk dancing on his lips as he leaned across the bar toward Hermione Granger. The dim lighting of the pub cast shadows that played with the sharp angles of his face, giving him an almost roguish charm.

"Granger," Draco drawled, his voice laced with a challenge, "did it hurt when you fell from the Department of Mysteries? Because clearly, you've stolen all the secrets to bewitching me."

Hermione, who had been mid-sip, nearly spat out her firewhiskey, her eyes rolling so hard they threatened to orbit her brain. "Merlin, Malfoy, your pick-up lines are as dreadful as your dark arts were," she quipped, a playful sparkle igniting in her gaze. She set down her glass with a thud, leaning into their banter.

"Is that a no then?" He feigned dejection before his silver eyes glinted with mischief.

"Tell you what," Hermione started, her lips curving into a mischievous smile that matched his own. "I'll agree to a date with you if I get to slap you again—like back at Hogwarts. For old time's sake." She raised her eyebrows expectantly, a challenge hanging between them.

"Ah, nostalgia," Draco sighed dramatically, "how it warms my cold, dark heart."

"Or reveals how much you haven't changed," she shot back, the corner of her mouth twitching as if suppressing another joke.

"I'm hilarious," Draco declared with feigned arrogance, puffing out his chest slightly as he relaxed back into his chair, seemingly unperturbed by her teasing.

"You're traumatized," Hermione countered smoothly, the words delivered with a blend of sarcasm and genuine concern that only someone who knew him well could manage.

"Is there a difference?" Draco retorted without missing a beat, the ghost of a grin softening the pointedness of his features.

Their laughter mingled with the clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversation around them, the history between them turning into something new and dangerously thrilling.