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Summary
“Earl Grey,” a deep voice said, and it was like walking straight through a ghost. Her stomach plunged, her veins turned icy cold, and she made herself count to three before turning around.
It was worse than a ghost. It was him, warm and in the flesh, cheeks slightly flushed from the summer heat outside. Draco hadn’t noticed her yet, too busy paying for his tea, and she inched toward the door. If she could just scoot past the cluster of witches waiting in line, she might be able to—
“Granger?” the barista asked.
Dammit.
Draco’s face went several shades paler. She gave up trying to sneak out and sheepishly wended her way to the counter. Hermione accepted her cup with a meek smile and nodded to Draco like this wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to her in years.
It had been seven years since she had last seen him, standing alone in front of the lake. Everyone else had been crowded into groups, surrounded by their families and loved ones, but Draco was alone.
No one had come to his commencement ceremony, not even his mother.