Slytherins, Kisses and Other Disasters
Copyright© 2026 by Caroline Stanton
Chapter 39: A Very Ordinary First Date
Alex had arrived at the shopping centre fifteen minutes early.
He had told himself there was no particular reason for this. He simply preferred being punctual. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the beautiful blonde girl he’d met the previous Saturday, or the fact that he’d spent an embarrassing amount of time deciding which shirt to wear.
He checked his watch. Five minutes to two. He glanced towards the main entrance, where shoppers were coming and going through the automatic doors. Families, teenagers, couples, elderly people carrying shopping bags—an endless procession of ordinary people. Then he saw her. And forgot about everyone else.
Draconia Malfoy was walking towards him, wearing a black miniskirt, a cream jumper, a short black jacket, tights, and ankle boots. Her long blonde hair was gathered into a high ponytail, secured with a black bow that bounced gently with every step. She carried a small handbag and wore a smile that became noticeably brighter when she spotted him.
Alex stared. He remembered her being beautiful. He hadn’t remembered her being quite that beautiful. Draconia slowed as she approached, suddenly conscious of his expression.
“Hello, Alex.”
He blinked.
“Oh! Hi!”
She smiled.
“Have I kept you waiting?”
“No! Not at all. I only just got here.”
This was a lie, but a harmless one.
Draconia looked him over with discreet approval. He was wearing dark jeans, clean trainers, and a navy-blue shirt beneath a casual jacket. His dark hair was neatly combed, although a few strands had already escaped. His blue eyes were even more attractive than she remembered.
He looked wonderful. And, she was pleased to discover, he seemed just as nervous as she was.
“You look amazing,” he said.
Draconia felt warmth rise into her cheeks.
“Thank you.”
“I mean, you looked lovely last week, but...” He laughed awkwardly. “Sorry. That sounded stupid.”
“Not at all.”
She smiled more broadly.
“You look very handsome yourself.”
Now it was Alex’s turn to blush.
“Thanks.”
For a moment, they simply stood there, smiling at each other. Then Alex gestured towards the shopping centre.
“Shall we?”
“I’d like that.”
They walked through the entrance together. Neither noticed three girls standing beside a display of discounted luggage approximately thirty yards away. Victoria Crabbe lowered the sunglasses she’d borrowed from Hermione.
“Bloody hell. He’s good-looking.”
Georgina leaned around a stack of suitcases.
“Oh, he really is.”
Hermione caught both of them by their jackets and pulled them back.
“Will you two stop staring? You’re supposed to be inconspicuous!”
Victoria looked down at her sunglasses.
“That’s why I’m wearing these.”
“Victoria, we’re indoors!”
“Exactly. Nobody can see where I’m looking.”
Hermione closed her eyes. This was going to be a very long afternoon. Alex and Draconia wandered through the shopping centre, talking about the previous week.
“So,” Alex said, “did you manage to find everything you were looking for?”
“Eventually. Georgina bought enough shoes to open a shop.”
“Georgina’s your friend?”
“One of my best friends. You might have seen her last week. Very tall, brown hair, rather enthusiastic about shopping.”
Alex considered.
“Oh, yes! I think I remember her.”
“She’s wonderful, although I sometimes suspect she has a personal vendetta against her father’s bank account.”
Alex laughed.
“And the other girl? The tall one with black hair?”
“Victoria. Also one of my best friends. She’s rather outspoken.”
“She seemed nice.”
“She is. Once you get accustomed to her.”
Draconia smiled affectionately.
“She has a habit of saying precisely what she’s thinking, usually at the worst possible moment.”
“Sounds like a good friend to have.”
Draconia looked at him with interest.
“Yes,” she said. “She really is.”
They passed a bookshop, a music shop, and a display of televisions showing the same football match on several enormous screens. Draconia glanced at the televisions with undisguised fascination, although she managed to restrain herself from asking how the people had been placed inside them.
Hermione had been very clear about that particular subject. Alex noticed her looking.
“Do you like football?”
“Not particularly. Do you?”
“A bit. Not as much as some of my mates.”
“Then we have something in common.”
He laughed.
“Not liking football?”
“Precisely.”
By half past two, Alex was beginning to feel more relaxed. Draconia was funny, intelligent, and surprisingly easy to talk to. She listened when he spoke, asked questions about things that interested him, and occasionally made observations so unexpectedly sharp that he found himself laughing aloud. She was also rather unusual. She attended a boarding school in Scotland, came from what she described as a very traditional family, and seemed unfamiliar with things he would have expected almost anyone their age to know.
But she didn’t pretend otherwise. When he mentioned a television programme she hadn’t heard of, she asked what it was about. When he referred to a computer game, she listened with genuine interest instead of pretending to recognise it. Alex found that refreshing. And Draconia was discovering something equally pleasant. Alex wasn’t interested in her surname. He hadn’t asked whether her family was important, how much money her parents possessed, or which other families they knew. He was interested in her.
It was a wonderfully unfamiliar sensation. Eventually, Alex glanced at his watch.
“Are you hungry?”
Draconia considered.
“Actually, yes.”
“Good. I thought we could get something to eat before the film.”
“That sounds lovely.”
“Anything in particular you’d fancy?”
Draconia looked around. They had entered an enormous food court, where brightly illuminated signs advertised hamburgers, pizzas, fried chicken, sandwiches, noodles, and a bewildering assortment of other foods. The smells were extraordinary. So were the queues. Draconia stared.
“Good heavens.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just...” She gestured towards the various counters. “There are so many choices.”
“Yeah. That’s the trouble with this place.”
Draconia examined a large photograph of a hamburger. Then another. Then a third.
“What exactly is that?”
Alex followed her gaze.
“A cheeseburger.”
“Ah.”
She studied the photograph.
“And that?”
“Chicken nuggets.”
“And those?”
“Onion rings.”
Draconia looked at him.
“You’re going to think me terribly ignorant.”
Alex smiled.
“Why?”
“Because I’ve never eaten any of these things.”
He blinked.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Never had a burger?”
“No.”
“Or nuggets?”
“No.”
“Chips?”
“Of course I’ve eaten chips,” Draconia replied, looking mildly offended. “I’m not entirely uncivilized.”
Alex burst out laughing.
“Sorry!”
Draconia laughed too.
“It’s all right. My family simply doesn’t eat this sort of food.”
“What do you normally eat?”
She considered the question.
“Rather traditional meals. Roasts, fish, vegetables, soups, things like that. We have a cook at home.”
Alex raised his eyebrows.
“You have a cook?”
Draconia realised her mistake.
“Yes. My parents are rather old-fashioned.”
“Blimey.”
She smiled apologetically.
“I did warn you.”
Alex laughed.
“Fair enough.”
He looked at the menus again.
“Well, would you like to try something?”
Draconia glanced at the colourful displays. Then at him.
“Actually, Alex, would you choose for me?”
He looked surprised.
“Me?”
“Yes. You seem to know what all these things are, and I haven’t the faintest idea where to begin.”
He smiled.
“All right. Any foods you don’t like?”
“Not especially.”
“Then how about a cheeseburger, chips, and a drink?”
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