Draco.
Upon apparating from his wedding, Draco mysteriously found himself in Muggle London. He had no idea on why that had been the first place that sprung to mind. Maybe it was because he knew no one would ever find him there. Not Blaise his best friend or god forbid his mother, each telling him he is making a huge mistake and that he should go back and marry Astoria. But no, no one would ever dream of looking for him here. He was supposed to despise muggles with a passion and everything about them, so it wouldn’t even occur to them that Draco would be in a place filled with them.
He strolled proudly along the street, head held high trying to blend in as best he could. Although he received many puzzled looks as he was after all still dressed in a formal black tuxedo with a single white flower drooping from the pocket, not the usual attire for waltzing around the streets of London.
However Draco did not care about his appearance at this point in time, he was just desperately searching for a place where he could hide away and thoroughly comprehend what he had just done.
Poor Astoria, she would most likely be crying her heart out over his sudden departure or perhaps she would be utterly fuming and ready to kill, either way a huge wave of guilt rushed over him.
Astoria was a nice girl at heart and had kept him mellow over the years; he had never wanted to ruin what would have been the best day of her life. She didn’t deserve that, but then Draco didn’t deserve to be stuck with her for the rest of his miserable life just because he felt he had too. So he concluded that he had actually made a good decision.
Soon, Draco found a small pub on the corner of a dingy alleyway where the crowds had died down, he assumed that inside would too be deserted and he was right.
There were only a few very lonely people in there, perfect for not wanting to grab anybody’s attention.
He paced straight over towards the bar, where an elderly woman with large round glasses was ready to serve him.
“Yes my dear?” She voiced croakily.
“Fire whiskey please” Draco uttered casually. Suddenly it struck him that he was indeed in a muggle pub and that they probably didn’t serve wizard drinks. Thankfully, the woman so ancient, she didn’t catch what he had said,
“What was that love?”
“Err…”
Draco hadn’t the faintest idea of any muggle drinks, so he glanced around quickly for inspiration. He spotted a middle aged man with a huge bushy beard, which greatly reminded him of the oaf Hagrid at Hogwarts. He saw this man was drinking from a large tanker with the word ‘Guinness’ printed on the side in white lettering.
He knew this was his best bet, so asked for one Guinness and waited patiently while the frail woman shakily poured him one. The liquid was black and had a huge amount of creamy froth on top, which didn’t particularly please him. It looked exactly like something Professor Snape had forced him to brew in potions class.
Nevertheless, he thanked the woman and took a reluctant swig of the drink to find it was surprisingly refreshing.
As he repeatedly drank from his tanker, he surveyed the pub curiously. There was hardly anyone in there, except the man who strongly reminded him of Hagrid, an extremely old man who was completely bald and looked as though he could die any second and a young woman…
Draco’s jaw dropped so wide, the old woman behind the bar gave him a peculiar look,
“Are you alright dear?” she asked, pushing her large glasses further up her nose.
Draco did not answer; he was too astounded by who was sitting at the table on the opposite side of the pub. None other than Hermione Granger.
It took him a moment to regain his cool and pick his jaw off the floor. What the hell was Hermione bloody Granger doing in a dirty old muggle pub like this? She was meant to be at sophisticated parties with her ginger twat of a boyfriend, Ronald Weasley. Even Draco had to admit that Weasley had soared in the social ranks now that he was a respected Auror.
He watched Granger for a while. She looked different, much different. But that was probably down to the fact that he hadn’t seen her since the war, excluding a few posh parties Weasley had been invited to.
Her hair was tamer and not as bushy, it was pushed back in a loose bun with a few strands to framing her face. Her cheekbones were also more defined which made her look somewhat attractive.
Woah, Draco immediately shook his head at this thought. Did he just think of Granger as attractive? He must be going insane. She was a stuck up, know-it-all. She was a mudblood for god’s sake.
Draco halted at this thought. He did not use that term anymore. He had changed after the war and it had made him look at things differently, he didn’t want to be a predacious prat anymore.
He had the urge to go and speak to her. He’d no idea why. He had to force himself into remembering that he had changed and maybe talking to her would prove this, not only to her but to himself. So he gulped down the last of his Guinness and strode over to where she was sitting.
Hermione.
Hermione had been so flustered after cruelly leaving Ron; she decided to visit a place that would take her mind of things. London. A place she had come to regularly with her parents when she was younger. She loved seeing the fascinating national landmarks such as Big Ben and the London eye. She wanted to learn everything about them because they deeply intrigued her; she had even been a geek back then.
However at this moment in her life, Hermione was not here to see the sights, she was here because she was hiding. Hiding from Ron, Harry and everyone from the wizarding world. Once they found out how she had simply abandoned Ron, they would literally hate her, tell her she is a heartlessly bitch and that they never wanted to see her again.
These thoughts hurt her; they plagued her mind in fact. She could not believe that this was true, she could not think that her best friends would erase her from their lives, so for now hiding was her best option until everything calmed down at least.
So she found a quiet, secluded pub on a corner and dived inside.
When doing this, she had hoped to be safe away from anybody she knew and could read her book peacefully, she certainly did not expect Draco Malfoy to stroll over and say hi. So when he did, she could not believe her eyes.
“What brings you here, Granger?” he uttered, his voice strained as though he was struggling to sound pleasant.
“M-Malfoy?” she gasped, dropping her book in amazement, allowing it to crash down onto the table.
Draco Malfoy in a muggle pub dressed as though he was going to a wedding? She had to be dreaming? Or having a very peculiar nightmare. Why the hell was he here? And most of all, why was he trying to start a conversation with her? He hated her, he had taunted her, Harry and Ron ruthlessly all through Hogwarts and now he suddenly decided to be nice… Wow.
“Alright Granger?” he said coolly, his tone was deep and masculine which made Hermione blush slightly. He had become rather handsome since Hogwarts. His hair was no longer bleach blonde but a sort of dirty blonde that made him look more human and the fact that he wasn’t so pale added to this, maybe it was because he didn’t have Voldemort milling around his house 24/7.
“Um, Hello Malfoy…” She said slowly, her eyebrow raising high into her forehead, “W-what are you doing here?”
Hermione saw his body visibly stiffen as though he was uncomfortable in answering the question. It was understandable considering she was sure Draco had never wanted to be spotted in a muggle place. He despised muggles.
“Doesn’t matter” he replied bluntly, shoving his hands into his pockets. He looked tired and quite drained, so taking pity on him Hermione offered him the seat opposite her.
Hesitantly, he lowered himself down, not meeting her direct gaze instead glancing around casually.
“So was there something you wanted, or did you just come over here to have a good catch up because we’re such great pals?” the sarcasm in her voice made Malfoy’s eyebrow raise in shock of her tone.
“No, I just came over so I could forget about-“ He cut himself off and began awkwardly looking around again.
“Forget about what?” she asked, deeply interested in what he was talking about. What was he trying to forget?
After a prolonged silence, he sighed roughly, running his fingers through his hair and peered round at her.
“Forget about how I just ditched my own wedding…”