Collection of one shots based on the Draco x Hermione pairing. All can be read individually for a short read :) All stories are *complete* but I will continue to add to this collection as I write more one shots.
Table of Contents | Please refer to...
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☕️ NOVEMBER ☕️
Chased down the narrow footpath by a hostile gust of wind, Draco speeds up, teeth chattering, hair whipping into his eyes.
He doesn't belong here.
Even the weather knows it, howling at him to Apparate home already.
An agitated mother has blocked his way with her pram, grappling with a runaway teddy bear blanket and a wailing baby. He skips onto the road, hugging the curb to avoid honking metal death traps on wheels.
Pure chaos, these Muggles. Pure bloody chaos.
Narrowly dodging a reckless rider on a motorbike, he returns to the footpath, where a shop door swings open and nearly whacks him across the face. He pauses mid-step, allowing an old man with a steaming paper cup to barrel out, barely registering Draco's presence.
As he waits for the path to clear again, which he fears it never will, something shiny catches his eye from the shop window to his left. It's a sliver of a place, nestled between a florist's and a kitchenware store. A young woman on a stepladder stretches on the tops of her toes, sticking holographic snowflakes to the glass.
Draco freezes.
Unruly curls. Fastidious concentration on her face. What's she doing here?
Curiosity burning, he makes an impromptu detour. The cursive sign on the door reads Full Steam Ahead, store hours bullet-pointed below it.
Stepping inside, exhaust-smudged air transforms into the intimate scent of fresh-ground coffee beans and his lungs unravel, inhaling deeply.
Granger's lace-up boots thump on the ground as she vacates the window. "Malfoy," she says with an edge of surprise. "What are you doing here?"
Vintage is a generous description for the look of the place, but the brick walls are redeemable, he supposes. Safe for that one covered in whatever you call that monstrosity. Drawings of teapots and coffee urns, dozens of them, colours sun-bleached over time, backgrounds yellowed.
He raises his hand, a sleek shopping bag swinging off his index finger. "It's Pansy's birthday this weekend." The lengths he goes to for that woman...
"And you bought her a gift from a Muggle shop?" Granger's surprise morphs into confusion.
He can't remember the last time he saw her in person. Likely at a Ministry mixer. She looks the same, except in Muggle clothing. Hair as chaotic as the rhythm of her people bustling outside the shop.
He shrugs, maintaining a cool demeanor. "It's some designer she likes. Apparently, their scarves are a big deal."
She runs her palms down faded blue denims, a charm bracelet jangling around her wrist. "I heard she's a personal stylist now. It's nice she's expanded beyond magical inventory."
