Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned, I'm simply taking them out the box and playing with them.

Warning: Cursing

Beta: My irl friend Kurtis BETA'D for me. Thank you!

A/N: I decided to put more Draco and Hermione interaction into this chapter, but sorry not the Joker is at the end of this chapter! It's a bit cliche as they meet at one Bruce Wayne's parties, but in this story Hermione has met and hates, well greatly dislikes, Bruce for some of his actions in the past. (I'll explain it in other chapters.)

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"Draco Malfoy, you piece of absolute shit!"

Draco didn't bother looking up from the file he was reviewing, "And what, pray tell, did I do to bring on this, Mia, darling?"

"You accepted Bruce Wayne's invitation," she spat out the billionaire's name, "to his 'pat me on the back, I'm a good person' party."

"Is that all, Mia, I'm too busy to dis-," Draco started, but the growl that escaped the brunette's lips was enough to shut him up.

"You. Accepted. His. Invitation," she emphasized every word with a sneer, "Without. My. Permission."

He looked up at his fiery friend of several years, and grimaced at the expression of loathing that twisted her features, "We'll talk about this over lunch, which I'll be taking you out for in two minutes."

She narrowed her head, but nodded before brushing imaginary dust from her loose, white blouse, "Yes, we will. Where will we be dinning at?"

Draco ranked his hand though his hair before beginning to stand, "Nuda's, it's small and has great food."

"This," Hermione gestured at Draco's standing form before sliding on a pair of oversized sunglasses, "Will not be solved with a simple lunch."

Draco perched his own aviator shades on top his head and rolled his sleeves as they stepped into the elevator to go down to the ground level. He sighed heavily, "Wouldn't dream of it, Mia."


Hermione walked in front of him, occasionally growling and mumbling under her breath about playboy brats.

Draco took the time to compare his friend to the eleven year old he used to make fun of.

She had gotten a lot taller over the twenty of so years he had known him, her face slimmer, her body fuller, her knowledge tripled and her magic increased tenfold. Her thin shapely calves shown off in her jean capris; her short sleeved blouse tucked into her shorts, exposing expanses of glamoured skin.

The clacking of her nude pumps against the pavement gave away her obvious anger and Draco bit back the urge to shudder at the amount of magic that came off her in waves.

"May want to cool the vibes, Mia," When the witch turned to look at him expectantly, Draco gestured to her hair that sparked with excess energy and the wide berth and looks of awe the populace were giving the two, "We have two well known faces, and you're scarier than the bloody Joker with the amount of energy you're releasing."

Hermione grimaced and calmed herself, her hair settled into its usual luscious curls, before she replied, "Shut up, Draco."

"Nice comeback, Granger," Draco laughed at the frown that twisted her soft features, "Now smile, we're close to the diner."

She pivoted on her heels and continued to walk down the street towards the restaurant, without another word to the wizard.


Hermione glanced around Nuda's, taking in the décor. Mint blue vinyl booths lined the sides of the diner, while the counter was lined by several stools of the same color; there were two waitresses taking orders from other patrons and one manning the register on the far right of the bar. A small opening held a silver bell and an order rack, where the waitresses gave the cook orders and received the platters.

Only after they were led to a small booth in the corner of the diner did Hermione acknowledge his presence.

Wandlessly she cast Muffliato before addressing him, "Well?"

"Mia," Draco began, "We're famous faces, we have to attend social events from time to time, and it's been two months since either of us has made a public appearance."

Hermione shifted in her seat, and Draco could see that she saw his point, "I understand… but why couldn't we attend a different charity event than the one held by Bruce Wayne, he's immature and I can't stand him."

"Immature like me or Potter?"

The witch glared at his nerve, "Immature like Marcus Flint- a player with no sense of modesty."

Draco chuckled, "Modesty? This coming from the woman who likes to cook in her knickers and an apron, because, and I quote, clothes are restrictive prisons, if I'm going to live forever might as well get rid of 'em."

Hermione's cheeks colored, "What's the point of living forever if you can't cook eggs without clothing sometimes?"

"Sometimes?" Draco questioned, raising a brow, "You do it every single time you wake up before noon."

"Regardless," Hermione said, attempting to change the subject, "Wayne is wrong, I got a sinister vibe from him the last few times."

The wizard shook his head, "You only get that vibe, because you've decided to despise him."

"Easy for you to say, traitor, you play golf with him once a month."

He chuckled, "That I do, but does that really make me a traitor?"

The woman across from him pouted, "No, it doesn't." She paused before trying another tactic, "I don't have anything to wear, nothing to match th-"

Draco cut her off, "I'm sure; your wardrobe rivals the collective outfits of bloody Hollywood; between your purchases, what I get for you and what companies send you have enough to last a lifetime."

Hermione frowned, "I'm still not happy about this."

"No, I wouldn't expect you to be," Draco waved his hand in the air, canceling the charm, "Regardless, let's order our food." He gestured for a waitress, who rushed to take the pair's orders.

Hermione smiled at the young woman and ordered, "I'd like the 'British Invasion Burger'," she chuckled at the name for a moment before continuing, "With extra bacon and sautéed onions, if that's possible. Also, a side of cheese fries and a chocolate malt; thank you."

Draco snorted at her greasy order before turning a charming smile at their waitress, "An ice tea would be nice; as for food… A Chicken Breast Melt with mustard in place of the mayo and a small Greek salad for the side."

The waitress flushed and nodded in reply, "It'll be a few minutes." She scurried away, leaving Hermione and Draco to their dull conversation as they waited for their food.


As it turned out it only took nearly an hour for their food to be brought to them- not that either minded the delay. They had a bit to talk about, ranging from Draco's crush on a girl they met in Seattle a few weeks ago, to Hermione's personal projects and her frustration with the government breathing down her back to work with them on some sort of weapon.

Draco mentioned the crime syndicate running in the city, to which Hermione compared the villains- Hermione sneered while using the word- to the Death Eaters they had faced when they were younger. The conversation branched out to the ludicrous idea, Draco's words, of Batman being a hero rather than a grey simple character with too much money; to which Hermione chuckled and pointed out that they were grey as they come, and possessed more money than anyone ever should.

"Ah, but batman possesses a Potter level hero complex," Draco retorted, "And we do not; thank Merlin for that."

Hermione laughed and noticed the waitress finally coming with their plates, "Very true; it seems that our food is here."

"Finally."

The witch nodded in agreement and gave the waitress a small smile as she placed the plates on the table.

"I'm so sorry for the delay, Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy. We're just so backed up, it's the lunch rush, and goodness, I'm sorry."

Neither bothered asking how she knew their names, as they had been the Gotham Globe only two days ago after Hermione had donated half a million dollars to Gotham's hospital and a week before that when Draco went on that date with a semi-popular actress.

Hermione plastered on a smile and assured her that there was no questioning of their service, "No need to apologize," the witch locked on the thin nametag that lay over her left breast, "Ruth, I hope you have a wonderful day."

Ruth nodded timidly and scurried to the next customer, while Hermione and Draco began to eat.

Hermione chewed two cheese fries and swallowed before asking, "So, we have, what, four hours before we have to attend Wayne's event?" The distaste evident in her tone; however, her hatred didn't stop her from plopping another fry into her mouth.

Draco took several bites of sandwich before answering, "Yes, four and an half hours if you want to appear fashionably late.

Hermione mumbled something about not caring about Bruce's silly party or looking fashionable in any form.

Draco chuckled at his usually composed friend's aggravation.


Hermione held back the frown threatening to appear on her face and she nervously moved the champagne flute to her other hand. She wasn't planning to actually drink it- as alcohol had never been her forte nor did she want it to be- it was all for show.

Oh, Merlin's beard, did she stand out.

She wore a sleeveless, scarlet gown with a high waist and a jeweled, lace bodice. The front ended at her knee and held a long train behind; a pair of black pumps with a thick, jeweled strap tying around the ankle, giving her small frame four extra inches. She wore a golden bicep bracelet in the visage of a king cobra with rubies for eyes and held a black clutch, both gifts from Draco from a few years ago. Her hair pulled into a tousled looking updo, and her makeup simple- cat styled eyeliner and lips painted a vivid red.

Unknown to the other attendees, she had three hidden knives- one in her clutch and one strapped to either thigh-, two wands, pepper spray, and pair of brass knuckles.

She tapped the sole of her show impatiently as she waited for Wayne to finish his speech to Harvey Dent- the one person, aside from Draco, she could stand at this event. As much as she liked the man- he reminded her of Gryffindor bravery mixed with Hufflepuff kindness- she didn't want to be here any longer than needed, she had a bad feeling about the how the whole evening was unfolding- the obviously undercover cop in the furthest corner from the door didn't help her nerves either.

She looked at the flute's bubbly contents before grimacing and downing it. She hadn't been playing on drinking at all this evening, but she had a feeling she'd need several drinks before this evening was over. She waved over the server for another flute, she thanked the server before looking at the offending liquid and weighing the pros and cons of trying to get wasted on Perrier-Jouet Belle Époque Rose Cuvee- which was, in her opinion, overpriced for being such plain champagne; maybe she should have waved down a glass of wine instead.

She shrugged and figured the pros would greatly outweigh the cons, so she moved the flute to her mouth and took a sip.

She pondered how she got here, standing in a Duchesse Satin gown, drinking in hopes that a fellow billionaire would shut the hell up. If her mother could just see her, hell, if Umbridge could see how high Hermione had climbed. She cringed at the thought of the pink demon who was her fifth year's DADA professor.

Merlin, she thought, where was Draco anyway?

She looked around until she saw a familiar head of white blonde hair trotting towards her.

"Well speak of the devil."

Draco walked towards her and raised any eyebrow at her flute; which much unlike his had a deep red lipstick stain on the clear glass, clear evidence of her drinking. He gestured towards it with his free hand, "Looks like someone got a wee bit stressed."

Hermione snorted, "You could say th-"

Her words were cut off by several gunshots and a high pitched scream.

The witch pivoted on her heel to look at the source of the shots, Draco follow suit and cursed when he saw who it was.

Harsh green contrasted against a purple suit, a sadistic grin playing at his emphasized lips. Hermione thought about equally clashing orange hair and purple suits exclaiming Weasley Wizard Wheezes in bright red writing; she frowned at the connection.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen," the madman called out with a mock bow, "It appears that we're tonight's entertainment, but before we begin, I have a one question. Where is Harvey Dent?"


Next Chapter: Knife point banter, and more Joker.