“Wait, you— what?” His mind spins for a moment, trying to absorb that particular detail, this new tidbit about her. “I had no idea. Over which shop?”
He hadn’t put much thought into where she might live. Hermione just materialised at the Ministry each day and filed her paperwork diligently and rolled her eyes at him when he forgot to refill the coffee pot in the office breakroom, and he pictured her living with lots of books, but the actual location had never really occurred to him. Somewhere in Muggle London, probably; not Diagon.
But then, for her question… He hesitates.
(Don’t be an ass, Draco.)
“Breakfast? I’m in favour. Most important meal of the day.” Cautiously, probing, because for a moment the worst possible thing which could happen is to sound too eager: “What d’you have in mind?”
He’s too accustomed to fleeting trysts and Apparating back home after, and savouring the privacy of having his flat to himself, and not having to walk circles around some Zabini’s cousin’s cousin and struggling to remember his shitty French and carry on awkward not-conversation over breakfast. But he already knows he can safely carry on a conversation with Hermione Granger. And lying here in a sprawl of sweat-tangled limbs is, well, nice. So.
no subject
He hadn’t put much thought into where she might live. Hermione just materialised at the Ministry each day and filed her paperwork diligently and rolled her eyes at him when he forgot to refill the coffee pot in the office breakroom, and he pictured her living with lots of books, but the actual location had never really occurred to him. Somewhere in Muggle London, probably; not Diagon.
But then, for her question… He hesitates.
(Don’t be an ass, Draco.)
“Breakfast? I’m in favour. Most important meal of the day.” Cautiously, probing, because for a moment the worst possible thing which could happen is to sound too eager: “What d’you have in mind?”
He’s too accustomed to fleeting trysts and Apparating back home after, and savouring the privacy of having his flat to himself, and not having to walk circles around some Zabini’s cousin’s cousin and struggling to remember his shitty French and carry on awkward not-conversation over breakfast. But he already knows he can safely carry on a conversation with Hermione Granger. And lying here in a sprawl of sweat-tangled limbs is, well, nice. So.