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Bright green flames died down before Hermione and she was greeted by the same grand view of the Manor gardens through the great windows opposite the fireplace, and she was grateful to be so accustomed to it.
She pinched the right side of her dress to lift the hem as she stepped out and onto the dark shining flooring.
Peering out one of the windows she could see attendants lighting lanterns on either side of the path leading from the drive through the gardens, making sure not a leaf was out of place.
She stepped out of her heels and held them in one hand as she padded through the foyer and up the stairs to her left.
Bustling of staff and Narcissa’s calmly assertive voice grew louder as she turned right at the top of the stairs and toward the ballroom.
She stopped just before the open doors, only craning her head forward enough to make sure Narcissa wouldn’t see her.
She was standing before the champagne glass tower, already in her black and burgundy evening gown looking as elegant as ever, her hair held in a gorgeous updo with the silver narcissus comb Hermione had gifted her last Christmas.
“Now don’t start it until the guests start arriving, I will not serve them flat champagne.” She told the witch attendant standing next to her, but with a warm smile, who nodded diligently.
Hermione’s compliments could wait.
She darted across the doorway and along the hallway to the curving staircase to the east wing of the manor. The familiarity of the climb as she passed the green and white stained-glass window halfway up eased her tightening chest only a little.
When she reached the top and Draco’s bedroom door came into view, her stomach was riddled with knots.
She took a deep breath, touching her hand to it as if it would help, and shook her head at herself.
She knew he would like it, probably love it, but she didn’t like to assume.
She stopped outside his door, holding her ear as close to it as possible.
Had her breathing always been this loud?
His shoes tapped loudly against the wooden floor and it sounded like they were coming closer.
Hermione spun so her back was against the wall next to his doorway, but he’d stopped. Probably looking in his mirror that hung next to the door.
He usually checks his appearance in it just before he leaves, but there was still half an hour until the guests would start arriving.
He moved further into the room, until she could barely hear his steps anymore and she heard a door shut. He’d gone into his bathroom. Perfect.
She pushed the handle down as slowly as possible, her arm feeling numb with nerves, when it really wouldn’t be a big deal if he saw her come in. She just wanted it to be a surprise.
Upon seeing his shadow through the gap of light under the bathroom door, she closed his bedroom door quietly and placed her heels carefully on the floor before slipping into them again.
Hermione stepped in front of the mirror, pulling at the straps of her dress even though they were fine as they were. The cowl neckline rose and fell back into the same position, dipped modestly so she wouldn’t be paranoid about it during the night, the emerald green satin draped over her skin and falling to just before her toes comfortably.
She turned her head to each side to check the innumerous hair pins were keeping her updo in place, then took a step forward to examine her lipstick. She usually avoided red as it was a lot more dangerous to smudge than her usual blush pink, but she couldn’t have anyone thinking she’d gone full Slytherin.
She had just parted her lips and lifted a finger to swipe any possible smudging at the corners when the bathroom door opened.
They both froze.
Draco’s head was dipped, his fingers pulling at the cuff of his opposite shirt sleeve, but his eyes were on her lower half.
He hadn’t met her eyes yet, it seemed they were stuck on her back.
Hermione closed her mouth slowly, so slowly you’d think she’d be cursed for any sudden movements.
She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she brought her raised right down to clasp her left in front of her stomach.
“Sweet Merlin, she’s trying to kill me,” He murmured finally, and a small laugh fell from her lips as they grew into a smile.
Her skin seemed to come alive the closer he got to her, his eyes flickering all the way up and down the back of her.
Her gaze went to the floor as she felt him right behind her, his belt buckle brushing the small of her back as he ran his hands from her ribs to her waist.
Hermione’s whole body felt numb with his touch. She thought she’d be used to it by now, but perhaps she never would be. She hoped she never would be.
It was a good thing she let Ginny do her makeup otherwise she’d be as red as the Gryffindor tapestries.
He took his right hand from her waist to lift her chin, and she met his eyes for only a second to register him looking at her over her left shoulder in the mirror, before she flicked them down again with a bashful smile. She could only look as far as the bottom of the mirror now though.
“Hermione Granger,” He murmured, and she took a long breath in through her nose in an attempt to ease the tightening in her chest, “you’re fucking exquisite.”
She tried to keep her smile close mouthed but she couldn’t. She thought her lips might crack with the strength of it.
“Look at me,” He whispered, his cheek brushing her ear.
It took her a few tries but she finally settled her eyes on his face, and they ran along the curve of his cheekbones and down to the small grin on his pale lips. Her own lips closed contently.
“Fuck,” He whispered, and she broke away from him with a small scoff.
“Stop,” she turned to face him and he immediately pulled her back to him, his grin fully grown now.
“What you come in here looking like this and you expect me to…” He trailed off, his eyes travelling from every feature of her face down to her chest.
He shook his head slightly and his voice faltered as he opened his mouth.
“Function?” A small chuckle escaped him, and Hermione would’ve crumbled to the floor if he wasn’t holding her up.
“Well, I had to at least try to match the Malfoy glamour,” she found her confidence as she grasped the lapels of his black suit jacket lightly, admiring the burgundy embroidered handkerchief in the pocket.
“Oh, you’ve put us to absolute shame,” He spoke lowly, his eyes fixed on her lips as he leant towards her.
Her hands gripped his jacket tighter.
“Be careful,” she whispered just as he reached her.
“Mhm,” He hummed before giving her a long, cautiously placed kiss.
Hermione regret her lipstick choice insanely. She didn’t want careful kisses right now. Or ever, from him, actually.
“Do you know what today is?” He asked after pulling away but keeping his face close to hers.
A frown creased Hermione’s forehead as she wiped the red from his lips with her thumb before she met his eyes.
“No? Am I missing something important?”
She thought she was quite well versed in the anniversaries of their relationship, even the non-anniversary anniversaries.
But nothing was coming to mind for the twenty-fifth of November.
He leant back a little, smiling to himself as he played with the charm on her pendant, a dainty silver dragon he’d gifted her that year for Valentine’s Day, his other arm wrapping round the small of her back.
“It wouldn’t have been significant for you, Granger. I doubt you even remember doing it,”
Hermione’s teeth snatched the inside of her bottom lip, her brow furrowing deeper.
He glanced up at her and gave her hip a squeeze with a reassuring smile before he returned his eyes to her necklace, but she knew he wasn’t really looking at it.
“First year, we were, well, supposed to be writing our last essays before Christmas with Binns, and you,” he cut himself off with a chuckle that bounced off her skin.
Speaking of skin, Hermione successfully nibbled off the first piece of the inside of her lip.
“You raised him on something, I don’t know what exactly because I was asleep, like everyone else except you in that class always was…something about not being certain Elfric the Eager was a goblin,”
Oh God she did remember.
Hermione covered her cheeks with her hands, and Draco laughed again and kissed the back of one of them.
“He woke us all up with his spluttering, and we all had to change every single instance in which we referred to him as a goblin in our essays, because ‘Miss Grant deems the way I’ve taught this subject for years as unacceptable’,”
Hermione couldn’t help but smile at the face he made as he mimicked the ghosts’ long, monotonous drone.
“He never did get my name right,” she recalled, soon finding her frown again as she remembered every incorrect address she received.
“Probably on purpose after that,” He grinned at her, and her eyebrows raised, looking to the side as she realised he was probably definitely right.
“I think that was the first and only time I heard him speak faster than a word a minute.”
She gave him a peeved look, but he revelled in it.
“Your point with this story, Draco?” She smiled at him with pursed lips and he met it amusedly.
“That was it for me, Granger,” he said after a moment, and his grin faded as he pushed the clasp of her necklace back to the back of her neck, that he had jostled out of place with his fiddling.
Hermione stared at him in silent shock, her mouth falling into straight disbelief as he avoided looking at her face at all costs.
“I didn’t know it at the time, obviously. I even wrote ‘and Hermione Granger is the most insufferable goblin I’ve ever met’ into my essay conclusion.”
His grin returned at her gasp.
“The proudest I’ve ever been for losing marks.” He finally lifted his eyes to hers and let go of her charm, sliding his hand down to join it with his other at the small of her back.
Hermione’s jaw lifted as she smiled at him.
“You’re a prat.” She declared, running her hands up his arms and shoulders to the sides of his neck.
He hummed his agreement and ducked his head to plant a soft kiss behind her ear.
“Aren’t you lucky,” He murmured before pressing her back against the mirror and starting a trail of kisses down her neck.
Her eyes fell closed as she breathed deep through her nose, stretching her fingers toward the bottom of his hair.
“Ah, ah, Granger, if I’m not allowed to ruin your lipstick, you’re not allowed to ruin my hair,”
Hermione felt his grin in the curve to her shoulder, and he placed another kiss there before taking the thin strap of her dress between his teeth.
She gasped as he started dragging it toward the edge, curling her hand to hold the back of his neck instead.
“Draco,” she breathed and he hummed back at her, sliding one hand down to grasp at her bottom.
She was going to say that they shouldn’t, but she didn’t want to.
Just as he’d released her strap, dropping it off her shoulder, there was a knock at the door.
Hermione took in a quick breath, pushing it back up as Draco lifted his head with a deep frown.
“What?” He snapped, and she couldn’t help but giggle at his immediate agitation.
“Mr Malfoy, your mother has requested you come down, she wants to make sure you’re ready,” a timid voice replied through the door, presumably one of the attendants.
Hermione heard a rumble in his throat and ran her thumb along the arch of his eyebrow. He returned his eyes to her and his frown softened.
“Mr Malfoy-”
“Alright, we’re coming!” He shouted, looking back toward the door, and they heard quick retreating footsteps.
“That poor witch,” Hermione said, giving him a chastising look as she ran her hands down his forearms to hold his wrists.
“She granted you a lucky escape.” His eyes turned hungry again as he pulled his hands through hers and took them, intertwining their fingers.
“I’d hardly call it lucky,” she retorted, her averted eyes widening immediately as she realised what she’d done.
“Is that so?” He smirked at her, starting to pull her to him.
“No, no, you’re not doing that again,” She asserted, breaking their hands apart and stepping away from him, “if I have to see your mother soon I can’t be like…this,” she avoided, gesturing to herself as her chest rose heavier with every breath as she thought of him like...that.
“Flustered, Granger?”
“Shut up, Draco.” she snapped, taking a series of deep breaths, unable to fight matching his grin as he watched her try to compose herself.
“Right, lets go,” she shook her arms a little before moving to his side.
“You best avoid any dark corners tonight, Granger,” He grinned down at her, and she made a slightly frustrated growl before stepping back and pushing him toward the door.
He laughed and opened it for her, grabbing her bum as she passed him.
“Draco!” She turned back with a gasp and backhanded his chest as he closed his bedroom door behind them.
He slid his right arm around her waist with a small closed mouthed chuckle, pulling her into his side as they walked towards the staircase.
“It’s not my fault you look like that,” he stated, pausing before the first step.
The moonlight streaming though the stained-glass window lit his face with swirls of sea green and pearl white, and Hermione put a hand to his chest to stop him from stepping down.
She felt her heart swell as she watched him watch her with a small, content but expectant smile.
Hermione leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on his cheek, raising her hand to wipe it off straight after, but he took her wrist gently.
“Leave it there,” he whispered.
“What? No,” she laughed a little as she slid it of his grip and swiped the creamy ruby mark away with her thumb.
“We don’t need any more fuel for Skeeter,” she said and wrapped her hand around the upper arm he offered her.
“Screw Skeeter.” He muttered as she pinched and held the side of her dress up as they started to step down the stairs.
“No thank you.” She quipped, and he looked to her with a proud smile.
She beamed back at him as they reached the bottom, where a gasp and a camera flash twisted both their smiles into immediate distaste.
“Draco, Hermione, you look delightful!” The witch herself exclaimed, dressed in an almost neon green pencil skirt and blazer with a bright red lip, and Hermione pressed her lips together, unimpressed at their similar colour schemes.
“Skeeter, never a pleasure.” Draco spoke with a tight smile, and Hermione scoffed a small laugh as he led her past her to Narcissa who was waiting at the entrance to the ballroom.
“Why must you always invite her?” He asked his mother through gritted teeth.
“Appearances, my prince, appearances.” Narcissa spoke through her own slightly strained smile, and Draco made a closed-mouthed noise of disagreement before she turned to Hermione.
“Hermione, dear, you look absolutely stunning!” Narcissa gushed, picking her free hand up in both of hers and giving it a squeeze.
“As do you, Narcissa, as always.” Hermione beamed back, before they heard the clicking of heels approaching them again and both their smiles dropped.
“Before the festivities begin,” Rita started, and Draco and Hermione turned to her apprehensively, “I just want to check that Miss Granger is feeling alright? Not nervous at all?”
They both frowned at her.
“Why would I be nervous?” Hermione asked, because if she was going to imply something offensive, she wanted her to explain it.
“Well, I can’t be the only one who has noticed the disdainful looks you two still get at these functions. Those pesky pureblood traditions are hard to shake, I wouldn’t blame Miss Granger if she didn’t feel fully accepted by the Malfoy clan and all their..influential friends?” She said with her perpetually arrogant smile.
Hermione gulped discreetly, her glare faltering only for a split second as she couldn’t bear for Skeeter to see she’d got to her.
“Of course she’s been accepted, you ridiculous witch,” Draco seethed next to her, laying his other hand over Hermione’s where it clasped his upper arm.
“Approach us again tonight and just see that I don’t-”
Narcissa stopped Draco with a light touch to his shoulder before stepping in front of him.
“You will report on the party, and the party only, Miss Skeeter, or you will find your invitation to the rest of our festivities withdrawn. Now I would advise that you get yourself set up in the driveway, to catch our guests as they arrive.” She spoke firmly down to the journalist, who had to crane her head back to meet her eyes.
“Of course, Mrs Malfoy.” Rita scurried away before Narcissa cast her eyes into the ballroom.
“Amelia,” she called, and the attendant from earlier appeared at her side as quick as lightning, “start the champagne tower, and bring a glass to Miss Granger immediately.”
During the usual procession of greeting every guest as they entered the ballroom at Draco’s side, Hermione noticed their displeased glances at her more than she ever had before, and she had always been aware of them ever since they began seeing each other almost two years ago.
When Henry Marchand, an old friend of Lucius’ reached them, Draco greeted him with the usual “Good evening,” but there was an extremely eager handshake on Marchand’s part.
“Draco, my boy, good to see you!” He exclaimed, clapping him on the shoulder, jostling his suit sleeve linked with Hermione’s right arm.
“How is Miss Greengrass?” He inquired, and Draco blinked.
“Astoria? How should I know?” He spoke bluntly, and Hermione took a deep breath before sighing through her nose, as she knew exactly what was coming.
“Aren’t you two still close?” Marchand asked, pure concern on his face, and Draco’s brow creased.
“No, not really.” He answered, innocence strong in his tone, and Hermione watched the crowd start mingling in the ballroom, trying to pretend she wasn’t in this conversation at all.
“Oh, that’s a shame, I always thought you two would make a fabulous couple.”
Hermione felt Draco steel next to her.
“Have you met my girlfriend, Hermione Granger?” He bit out, knowing full well he had, and Hermione turned her gaze back to the man with glaring eyes.
Marchand didn’t bother to hide his curling lip.
“Yes, I believe I have. Charmed.” He sneered before swanning into the room, and Hermione felt the fingers of her free hand flex at her side before curling into a brief almost-claw.
“I’m sorry.” Draco said, and Hermione turned her head to look up at his suddenly solemn face.
“I’m used to it.” She stated quietly.
Draco’s frown deepened, and he lifted his right hand to brush the side of his finger lightly down the length of her chin before the next guests stopped before them.
When they’d finally been able to break away from the slew of guests, Hermione moved straight to the far-left corner, where she let out a long sigh before taking just as long a sip of her champagne.
“How am I supposed to show you off from all the way back here?” Draco said, following close behind her and sliding an arm around her waist, but she slipped out of his grip.
“I don’t see why you would even want to.” She grit out, crossing her arms but keeping the rim of her glass in front of her lips.
“Have you seen yourself?” He asked with a breath of a laugh, stepping in front of her again but she kept her eyes glaring forward, now at his chest.
“Have you forgotten who you are? Have you finally put too much information into that big brain of yours and it’s snapped?” He grinned down at her, but she wouldn’t look at him.
“My brain hasn’t snapped but my patience will if I hear one more comment about Astoria.” She spat, and Draco’s face fell as he sighed, taking her elbows lightly in his fingers.
“I’m sorry, I tell them every time but-”
“But they’ll never accept me, I know.” Hermione finished for him scornfully, and Draco’s head dropped backwards.
“I’m going to wring that Skeeter’s neck-”
“But it’s true! No matter how many times you tell them they’ll always think-”
Draco took her face in his hands and looked hard into her eyes.
“Fuck what they think, I-” Draco stopped himself abruptly, and Hermione’s eyebrow’s rose.
“I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.” He said instead, and although slightly disappointed, the sentiment still made a wide smile grow on her lips.
“If that’s forever, fucking lucky me, we’ll invite them to the wedding and throw cake at them.” He continued, then smiled at her laugh.
“You don’t wanna marry me,” she muttered as her smile didn’t waver, and he brought his face even closer, so all she could see was his eyes.
“I couldn’t think of anything I’d want more.” He stated, and it was the most honest and truthful thing he’d ever said in his life.
Hermione’s face dropped slowly as his words sunk in. All this time she thought he hadn’t told her he loved her, but she started to realise that maybe he had his own way of saying it.
“Now come on, dance with me,” he said, taking her glass and finishing the miniscule bit she had left before placing it on the edge of a marble statue towering next to them.
He leant towards her with a lavish smile and planted a firm kiss on her lips, and her jaw dropped when he pulled away and she saw the rich red mark on his lips.
“Hold on,” she said, reaching up to wipe it but he clasped her hand and pulled her to him with his other on the small of her back, shaking his head briefly before starting to step her around in a circle toward the dancefloor.
“Draco, be careful,” she chastised as he continued to spin them with no regard to the crowd of milling and talking guests around them, but she couldn’t stop smiling at how ridiculous he looked with her lipstick all over his mouth.
She raised one hand from his shoulder to wipe it but he pretended to go for it with a sharp bite, and she withdrew her hand with a gasp. She swatted his shoulder when he grinned at her.
He spun her under his arm as they entered the dancing circle, and she beamed at him when he brought her back to him, pressing their bodies together as they swayed to the music.
She went to swipe at it again and he actually did bite her finger lightly this time.
“Stop that!” Hermione laughed. “I’m telling your mother to cut you off.”
“Just drunk on you, darling,” he declared before wiping his lips against her cheek as he gave her multiple kisses there, and Hermione made a light squeal as she tried to lean away from him.
“Better?” He asked, presenting his lips to her.
“Draco,”
They both turned their heads to find Narcissa on the edge of the circle.
“Behave yourself.” She commanded, but her smile was just as wide as theirs.
Draco closed his mouth dutifully with a nod, but he looked back down to Hermione warmly as the song ended, continuing to sway them across the pale-rose tile.
“I couldn’t adore you any more than I do right now.” He whispered, and the way he looked at her made her feel like they were the only two people in the room.
Hermione went onto her toes and put her lips to his ear, concealing her intention as an embrace.
“Guess what colour my underwear is.” She whispered against his skin, and Draco went slack jawed as she lowered back down onto her heels.
He pointed limply to her dress with his hand that was holding hers in the air, and she nodded with a shy smile.
“Shit, I was so wrong.” He breathed, and Hermione giggled, starting to raise a hand to his face when a presence appeared beside them, and her smile completely dropped when she turned her head to find Astoria Greengrass.
“Draco, it’s been so long!” Astoria exclaimed, and her hair crowded Hermione’s face as she inserted herself into their embrace to give him a hug around his neck.
Hermione let go of Draco and stepped back, trying her hardest not to cross her arms as she looked to Blaise stood behind her.
Blaise shrugged, giving her his usual ‘what are you gonna do?’ look before Astoria pulled back.
“You must give me a dance!” Her eyes pleaded as she looked up at him, and Draco’s expression turned uneasy as he flicked his hand up to take Hermione’s.
“Actually, I’d quite like to dance with my girlfriend a bit more first.” He told her, but Astoria clasped his other hand in both of hers, making Hermione frown.
“Oh, you’ve got all night to dance with her, and I can’t stay too long. Just one dance?” She implored, and Hermione dropped Draco’s hand just as Blaise hung his arm around her neck.
“Go on, Draco. Just try and keep up with us, yeah?” He said as he grinned down at Hermione before swaggering further onto the dancefloor with her.
“Thank you, Blaise, but I don’t really want to-”
“You’re not just standing to the side while some girl tries to steal your man, Hermione.” He murmured so no one else could hear, before he turned her around to face him and took her other hand, starting to swing their arms about as they stepped to the music, causing an involuntary smile.
She glanced over his shoulder to the back of Draco’s head, where Astoria pulled her smirk from Hermione and looked back up at her partner.
“She just smirked at me.” Hermione uttered, going completely still. “She just smirked at me, Blaise!”
She stepped a foot out to charge at them but Blaise pulled her quickly into a formal dancing position, hand tight on her waist but looking down at her sympathetically.
“Of course she did, Hermione, she’s a bitch,” he said, taking her hand and starting to move them to the music, “but Draco loves you, nothing is going to happen.”
Hermione’s eyes darted to his.
“He’s never told me that.” She stated, and Blaise’s eyebrows raised.
“I’m not surprised, he never says it back to me either.” He smirked at her, and another amused smile rose on Hermione’s lips. She could never stay angry around Blaise for long, he wouldn’t allow it.
“We deserve so much better. Just watch, they’ll start calling us the cutest couple here in a minute.” He said and she rolled her eyes at him.
“Shut up, Blaise,” she laughed, but her humour soon faded again as she caught the faces of multiple purebloods watching Draco and Astoria, excitedly leaning into their partners and commenting on them, most of them flicking their eyes to her afterwards.
“Hey,” Blaise prompted with a quick squeeze to her hand, but she couldn’t stop scanning them all, seeking all their approving faces out.
When she read “if only he’d get rid of that mudblood” on one of their lips she pulled herself out of Blaise’s hold and stormed toward the west wall and the grand doors to their smaller ballroom.
She twisted the doorknob and let the heavy doors shut behind her, covering her eyes with her hands as she stepped further into the room. With the music and the buzz of the party shut out and dulled through the walls she felt like she could finally breathe.
She dragged as much breath into her chest as she could.
She was not going to cry. She was not going to cry. She was angry she was angry she was angry.
The doors opened again behind her.
“Granger, what’s wrong?” Draco’s steps echoed across the marble floor as he crossed quickly to her.
“What’s wrong?” She repeated, turning to him and wiping at the tears that had betrayed her and started falling down her cheeks.
Draco’s eyes turned scared as he placed his hands on her hips.
“I tried not to dance with her, I didn’t want to-”
“It’s not that you danced with her, it’s that everybody wants you to dance with her and not me!” She exclaimed, her voice starting to shake.
“Not everyone!” He countered, and she pressed her lips together, giving him a look of disbelief through watery eyes.
“Blaise and mother want me with you.” He explained further, and Hermione flopped her arms out to the side.
“Oh, two out of two hundred, that’s just great.” She huffed a sigh, bringing her hands to her cover her eyes again as she fell against Draco’s chest.
He encircled her in his arms, bringing one hand up to comb through one of the loose curls of her updo.
“I was such an idiot for thinking this could work.” She whispered, and Draco’s hand froze.
“It does work, Granger.” He assured her, hushed from the tightening in his chest.
“Really because you still can’t call me by my fucking first name!” Her voice raised as she stepped out of his hold.
“Is that your way of not getting fully attached because you’re still not sure you want me around?” She carried on, and a storm started brewing on Draco’s face.
“Of course I’m sure I want you around!”
“Why?” She asked, her eyebrows sky rocketing.
“Why? To be honest you’re making that question a little hard to answer right now.” He answered callously.
“Well why don’t we make all social events a whole lot easier for both of us and just call this off?” She cried, but the words felt like bile coming out of her mouth.
Draco snapped his mouth shut, his eyes burning into her furiously.
“Are you fucking serious, Granger?” He ground out, and she breathed a strong sigh.
“I’m tired of being looked over with disgust-”
“That won’t be for forever-”
“It’s been long enough already!”
“I tell them every single time!”
“I know you do, but they’ll never accept it!” Hermione was getting tired of the words, and she felt herself deflating. “I’ll never be accepted by them, and you know it.”
“Why do you care about them?” Draco asked, his tone calmer now.
“Because they’re the people I’m going to have to see at all of your social events and I can’t feel like a piece of dirt on your arm forever. I can’t, I, I won’t.” She said, casting her eyes to the floor as they filled with tears again.
Hermione felt a sharp coiling in her chest and her lips started to tremble in the silence that followed.
“So what are you saying?” Draco spoke after a long while, as if they both knew where this conversation was going but neither of them wanted to see it through.
“I’m saying I-” Hermione’s voice broke and she sniffed. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
Draco stared at the empty space of marble flooring between them.
“Well, if it’s that easy for you to throw this away-”
“It’s not easy, Draco!” Hermione finally tore her eyes from the floor and looked to him, but his figure blurred with her tears.
“It’s not easy at all but I don’t know what else we can do.” She admitted, the lump in her throat starting to make every word sore.
“We can just…keep going!” Draco tried, imploring her desperately.
“Keep going until what? Until the next event and I feel as terrible as I do now and we have to have this conversation again, I can’t- I don’t want that, Draco.” She said miserably, her voice weak.
Draco just stared at her, frozen except his chest rising with the suffocating breaths he was dragging in.
“Then there’s nothing I can do to save this, is there?” He whispered, heavy from the lump in his own throat.
“I don’t think so.” She whispered back, and when Hermione’s lip wobbled again, she turned and started to retreat from the ballroom as quick as she could.
The sound of her heels echoed around the empty hallways as she desperately stalked to the fireplace, a loud sob falling out of her as she thought about how excited she’d been when she first walked through these halls that night.
She clamped her hand to her mouth in case any guests were in earshot, but she had to brace herself against the fireplace when she reached it.
Her stomach convulsed with every held back sob, her chest empty and aching as she put a hand to it.
“Hermione,”
She bolted upright at Draco’s voice, still clinging on to the mantle, and she found him standing further down the hallway. Her vision blurred when she saw his own watery eyes.
“Please.” He choked out, and she took in a deep shuddering breath.
She could’ve run to him. She wanted to. She wanted to with everything in her, but her head told her she shouldn’t.
She reached for the floo powder with a shaking hand, and she only heard him exhale before she stepped into the fireplace and whispered her home address with a strangled voice.
Hermione’s knees buckled as soon as she stepped foot in her own flat, and she crumpled to the floor, the straps of her heel digging into the side of her thigh.
When her eyes opened to the rich green satin still draped over her skin, she tugged it up her hips and pulled it over her head, throwing it across the room before breaking down again into her hands.
The next afternoon Hermione blinked her eyes open to her bedroom ceiling, the rims still sore and her entire being feeling hollow.
She glanced to the empty space next to her and her bottom lip wobbled when she realised she would never wake up next to Draco again.
She twisted in her bedsheets away from it, her eyes filling with tears as she let out a small sob.
At the sound of footsteps approaching her door she sniffed and sat up in her bed, grabbing her wand from her bedside table.
“Hermione?”
It took her a second to recognise the muffled feminine voice.
“Ginny?”
The doorknob twisted and when Ginny popped her head into the room, Hermione breathed a huge sigh of relief, lowering her wand back down to the wood.
“When you disappeared from the party I got so worried, I thought you’d be with Draco but when I tried to ask him it looked like he’d been..crying.” She said as if the concept was completely absurd, and Hermione shuddered a breath as Ginny closed the door and got into her bed beside her, still in her navy gown from last night.
“But you were sleeping when I got here, so I stayed on your sofa.” Ginny’s kind eyes blurred in Hermione’s vision as her lips turned up into a miniscule grateful smile.
“You guys were so wrapped up in each other I didn’t- what the hell happened?” She asked softly as she took in Hermione’s red blotchy cheeks, but Hermione just fell into her, and the redhead wrapped her arms around her friend as she cried.
After Ginny had eventually coaxed her out of bed with some tea and toast, Hermione explained what happened and she was now sat at her kitchen table, her head laying in her hand as she stared down miserably into the empty mug.
“You guys can’t just end because other people want you to, there’s gotta be something you can do to save it.” Ginny said after a long contemplative moment, and Hermione sighed through her nose.
“That crowd is always going to be a part of Draco’s life. Even if we moved to bloody Peru there would still be people there who know him, who hold this stupid pureblood ideology.” She spoke glumly, and Ginny fell silent for a moment.
“Well then, what are we doing to take your mind off it? Alcohol or no alcohol?” Ginny clapped her hands together, and Hermione smiled weakly at her.
“Actually, as much as I appreciate you being here for me, I think I’d like some time alone, if that’s okay?” Hermione asked slightly nervously, and Ginny smiled softly at her.
“Of course that’s okay.” She got up and hugged Hermione’s shoulders tightly from behind.
“Let me know if you need anything. I’ll check on you tomorrow.” She said with a big theatrical kiss to the back of her head making Hermione huff a tiny laugh.
“Thanks, Gin.” Hermione smiled as genuinely as she could after her before she disappeared in the green flames.
It hadn’t been half an hour since Ginny left her and Hermione felt consumed by the silence.
She’d gathered the energy to move to the sofa, but she couldn’t find it in her to pick up anything to read.
Having him there for everything, always being a part of her day felt so natural that a day without him was wholly disorientating.
She would get up to go somewhere in her apartment then stop, forgetting what she intended to do.
Making a cup of tea felt wrong without his chin resting on her shoulder, his chest pressing against her with every small movement.
Cooking dinner without his arms encircling her, his hand wrapped around hers around the spoon, his other hand holding her arm up so it wouldn’t tire from any constant stirring.
Even just sitting without his presence around her was unsettling, as they were always either here or at the Manor together in their spare time.
She gave up and trudged to bed when she came to the crushing realisation it would always be this way.
The next afternoon, Hermione’s hunger made her drag herself out of bed to make some cereal, but when she sat down to eat it, looking at it made her feel sick.
She had just swallowed the first spoonful when her fireplace was ablaze, and Ginny stepped out with just as much fire.
“Have you seen this?” She slapped the Daily Prophet onto the table in front of her and flipped the pages to Rita’s regular ‘Spotted!’ feature, and Ginny pointed to a moving picture of Draco sat outside a coffee shop, across from Astoria.
Hermione froze but every bone started to burn.
Then the picture twisted to show him frowning at the camera before going into a shop, and Hermione’s eyes narrowed as she read the caption.
Draco Malfoy spotted having coffee with long-rumoured flame Astoria Greengrass, then later stepping into a jewellery store! Finally giving in to tradition, perhaps?
“What the fuck does he need a jewellery store for?” Ginny spat Hermione’s thoughts.
“You need to get back out there. Show the bastard what he’s lost.” Ginny continued, rage spitting off her in every direction, but Hermione huffed shortly through her nose.
“I don’t want anyone else but him.” She stated, hating how weak she sounded.
Ginny calmed.
“Then you need to tell him that.”
Hermione snapped her head to her, horrified.
“What? When he’s- no,” she shook her head.
“I highly doubt he’s gotten over you this quickly, Hermione. He’s probably only doing this to make you jealous and go back to him.”
Hermione turned back to the picture and stewed, watching it play over and over as her friend’s words sunk in.
Her chair legs screeched against the floor as she pushed it back and stormed into her bedroom.
“Well, if he has then his plan has backfired.” She said loudly as she stripped off her pyjamas and pulled on some jeans, the first jumper she found and her trainers before stomping back out into the living area.
“He can’t have me back if he’s dead.”
The flames died down in front of Hermione as she stepped out of the Manor’s fireplace once again, storming up the stairs and past the ballroom, almost at the stairs to the east wing.
“He’s not up there, dear.”
Hermione gasped and turned to find Narcissa down the hallway, her hands clasped calmly in front of her.
“Narcissa, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to come unannounced, I was just-”
“On your way to yell at my son, I know. Don’t let me distract you.” She smiled wryly as she reached her, and Hermione had the overwhelming urge to crush her with a hug, nibbling on the inside of her bottom lip.
Narcissa brought one of Hermione’s hands up and held it between both of hers, telling her silently that she missed her just as much.
“In the tearoom.” She informed her, and Hermione took a deep breath before thanking and stepping around her.
As she neared the double doors, knowing he was on the other side of them riled her right back up again.
She pushed open the doors and spotted Draco on the loveseat with a book open in his hands.
When he lifted his eyes to her his brow creased and he slid the bookmark in immediately.
“What do you think you’re playing at?” Hermione spat as she stopped a few paces from him, shoving her hands onto her hips.
“I wasn’t playing anything, I was reading.” He said, his tone infuriatingly calm as he put the book down onto the cushion and stood.
“With the Prophet, with Astoria.” She prompted, her eyes glaring hotly into his.
“I didn’t ask them to photograph me.”
Again, his calm everything made Hermione fume.
“But you still went into a jewellery shop for, for her! And so soon, how dare you-”
“How dare I move on with my life after you broke up with me, Granger?” He took a step toward her, anger finally present.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak but she closed it, as she couldn’t bring herself to say the words that were about to come out of her mouth.
When she opened her mouth again her eyes watered.
“Did I really mean that little to you?” She whispered, and Draco pressed his lips together.
“Well, as muggles say, best way to get over someone-”
Hermione stopped him, holding a hand up flat, her eyes flinching shut and her head snapping to the side as if she’d been slapped.
“Don’t you dare.” She seethed and opened her eyes to look into his.
“Fuck you, Draco Malfoy.”
She only saw his chest swell with rage before she started stalking back toward the doors.
“You broke up with me, Granger! You did this!” He shouted after her, and Hermione turned back on her heel.
“And the dust had barely settled before you were out with someone else! You didn’t even give me a chance to reach out to you again, to,” Hermione paused, rolling her eyes as she now didn’t want to admit it.
“To apologise.” She finished, and when Draco’s face dropped Hermione focused on the coffee table at her side.
“What so you,” Draco started, and Hermione’s eyes travelled back to him slowly as he approached her again.
“So you regret it?” He asked cautiously, and she really wished her eyes would stop welling up whenever she looked at him.
“Of course I regret it, you idiot.” She spat slightly petulantly, and Draco tried to purse his lips, but they twisted up into a smile instead.
Hermione took a deep breath as he took another step towards her, their chests almost touching.
She watched his hand start to reach for her waist when there was a crack! and they jumped apart to find one of Draco’s house elves, Kelby, stood just in front of the doors.
“Miss Greengrass is waiting in the foyer for you, Sir,” Kelby spoke, and Hermione snapped her eyes back to Draco with a scoff before she shoved him even further away from her.
“But it’s apparent that you didn’t even want me to apologise!” She scorned before storming toward the doors.
“Hermione, wait!” Draco called after her, but she didn’t stop.
When she stepped through her fireplace, Ginny stood from the sofa where she’d been waiting for her.
“Well?” She asked, crossing to her, but Hermione just fell into her arms again.
A few days later, Hermione had just finished her dinner at Harry and Ginny’s, when she felt Ginny go still and silent.
She knew there was something she had wanted to say all evening, and she knew what it would be about.
Harry sighed at the table in between them.
“Hermione, Ginny wants to know if you saw that Malfoy went to dinner with Astoria and her family the other night.”
“Harry!” Ginny chastised him immediately, where he shrugged, and the corners of Hermione’s lips raised with the tiniest smile.
“I did.” She answered levelly.
It was the evening of the day she stormed round there. She had worked out that was why Astoria was there for him.
“And this is after you told him you didn’t want anyone else but him?” Ginny asked, and Hermione’s paused as she started to open her mouth.
“Well, I didn’t tell him that specifically…” Hermione admitted, lowering her eyes to the table as Ginny’s jaw dropped.
“Hermione! You need to tell him that, specifically, because if he gets any deeper with her before you do…” Ginny trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence.
Hermione didn’t want her to either.
The thought of his relationship with Astoria progressing any further terrified her to the core.
“I have to go. Thank you for dinner.” She said, moving to the fireplace immediately.
Hermione took a deep breath as she was greeted by the Manor’s grand windows once again, but she paused to look out of them this time, as she didn’t know whether she would be able to ever again after tonight. She had no idea how this would go, whether this would change anything or not, and it made her whole body shake as she stepped hesitantly up the stairs.
The fireplace still let her in whenever she liked, though, and that small glimmer of hope willed her legs to keep going.
She listened out for any noise as she walked, deciding to try his bedroom first as he either retired there or in the tearoom after dinner.
He might not even be here, she thought. Might be on another date with Astoria.
She shook the thought away as she approached the stairs to the east wing, her stomach even more knotted and churning than it was when she surprised him last Friday, which felt like months ago.
She stopped outside of his door, holding her breath as she listened.
At the sound of his bathroom tap she felt her heart might burst out of her chest it started beating so hard, but after she heard his leisurely steps against his bedroom floor, she raised a fist and knocked before she could stop herself.
It was silent for a few seconds before she heard him crossing to the door, and she took a step back, casting her eyes to the floor as the door swung open, her whole body seizing up.
Draco was a statue as he stared at her, and Hermione let her eyes wander up to his shoulders to find him still in his black dress shoes and trousers, but he’d removed his belt and jacket, the top two buttons of his white shirt undone and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a sight that always made her melt.
“Um, I need to tell you something, and after I do, you can do whatever you want. You can forget about me forever, you can…you can just do whatever you want.”
Draco took his hand from the doorknob and buried both of them in his pockets.
Sweet Godric he wasn’t making this easy for her.
“Okay.” He said simply, and she finally met his eyes.
They held the usual reserved stillness they always did, but there was no malice in them.
“Okay, um,” she looked back down at his middle again, but at the same time she wasn’t really seeing anything.
“I don’t know what it’s been like for you. I don’t know what it’s like with another person, uh, because quite frankly I don’t want to.” She watched his throat bob as he gulped.
“But, everything is just…” She gave up momentarily with a huff, as she hadn’t properly prepared what she was going to say, as whenever she tried nothing sounded right in her head.
“When I’m with you, my world is on fire.” She finally got out, then looked up to find him frowning slightly.
“In a good way!” She quickly assured him, and it softened as she breathed a small nervous laugh.
“And now, without you, everything is just so…bland.” She told him, and watched his chest expand with a deep breath.
“I hate it,” she sighed, giving up trying to be eloquent with her words, “I hate it.”
Then the perfect analogy came to her, and Draco squinted only slightly as a smile started to rise on her face.
“It’s like…wine after firewhiskey.” She said, and Draco’s mouth quirked as he unpicked that.
“It’s just so watered down.” Hermione punctuated the last three words heavily, and it was Draco’s turn to look to the floor.
“Too much firewhiskey is fatal, Granger,” Draco drawled finally, and Hermione’s smile stayed a moment longer as she remembered the night they got absolutely jelly-legged on Ogden’s Old and Draco wanted to learn how to cook the muggle way.
The whole kitchen nearly burnt to the ground.
“It can be.” Hermione spoke softly.
“You’re suggesting there’s a way it’s not?” He asked, and the look he gave her told her he already disagreed.
“We could try accepting it, Draco.”
“Accepting what?” He snapped.
“That I love you!” Hermione burst, and every inch of Draco’s body froze.
“I love you, Draco, and I will love you no matter how many people wish I wouldn’t. I will love you even when I’m so old I can’t remember my own name. I will love you if you do marry Astoria,” Hermione paused as tears pooled in her eyes, but she forced them back with a gulp.
Draco stared at her, wide-eyed and terrified.
“And I will love you if you never marry at all and spend the rest of your days in this big stupid manor with all your stupid money. Wherever I’ll be, whatever I’ll be doing, I’ll love you.”
Hermione took a deep breath and finally tore her eyes from his.
“Uhm, that’s it, really. So, goodbye, I guess.”
Draco’s eyes flicked all over her being, a frown creasing his forehead, as if he were struggling to believe she was actually there.
Hermione turned on her heel and hurried down the curving staircase as fast as possible.
Her feet pounded along the stone floors, fear and loss and agony coursing through her body again as she reached his fireplace.
“Granger.”
She jumped at his sharp voice and turned to find him stalking down the hallway after her, his face set and thunderous.
She braced herself for a fight, standing tall as he reached her, but she wasn’t prepared for his hands to grasp her hips and crash their bodies together.
A noise of surprise only just made it out of her mouth before his lips captured hers, and every whisper of tension flooded from her body as she wound her arms up to hang around his neck.
His arms slid to wrap completely around her waist, holding her so tight she thought they might permanently fuse together.
Their lips broke apart for a split second but Hermione kissed him again fervidly, and again, and again, and again because the thought of never being able to do this still devastated her.
When they finally broke apart, Draco rested his forehead on hers as they caught their breath.
“I don’t want Astoria, I don’t care about money and I don’t care about this manor unless you’re in it. I don’t want anyone or anything but you.” He told her, and the unwavering certainty in his voice made her well up again.
When Draco tucked her hair behind her ears they began to fall, and a smile lifted on his lips as he wiped them away with his thumbs
“But alright, if I have to say it, I love you, Hermione Granger.” He said and watched as her lips started trembling. She pressed them together.
“So quit crying on me, you big baby,” he said to make her breathe a laugh, as he couldn’t stand seeing her tears any longer.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and crushed her to him, one hand on the back of her head as his chin rested on top of it.
Hermione held on to his sides as if he’d be ripped from her any second.
Both of their eyes fell closed, and they just stayed there, clutching each other as if it would seal over the time they’d been apart.
“It was never romantic with Astoria.” He said after a long while, and it felt like Hermione’s heart itself gave a sigh of relief.
“She asked, and I needed to take my mind off it. Off you. I was a mess, Hermione.” He continued, burying his nose in her hair.
“You couldn’t have done that with Blaise?” She inquired softly, her cheek pressed against his shirt.
Draco fell silent again.
“Well, I did also want to make you jealous.” He confessed, and she wriggled in his grip, but she could only pull back enough to land a dull thud on his stomach with her fist.
“You arse.” She grumbled, but her hand grasped the side of his shirt again as she fell back into him.
“I know, I’m sorry, I love you, I love you, I love you.” He mumbled into her hair, placing multiple roaming kisses in it, and she smiled, holding him even tighter as she forgave him.
When she remembered the image of Draco going into the jewellery shop, Hermione frowned and slowly pulled back to look at him.
Draco let his elbows fall between them, drawing his hands to her neck.
“So you were never going to propose to Astoria?” She asked, and Draco’s brow drew together immediately.
“No, of course I wasn’t,” he answered, eyes flicking all over her face.
“But the article-”
“Oh no, she believes everything she reads in the paper, I take it all back,” Draco grinned and started to mockingly move away from her, but Hermione kept him to her by his shirt.
“So why were you there, then?” She searched his face, her eyes flitting as they always did when she was scanning for answers herself.
“I was buying something for mother.” He said, but she knew from the slower pace of his words that he was lying.
“Your mother always says she doesn’t need any more jewellery.”
“And you always said you didn’t need any more books, but you’d still buy three more every Sunday.”
Hermione’s lips pursed as she looked over his shoulder, and Draco’s grin fell slightly as he sighed.
“Alright,” he prompted, and her eyes travelled slowly back to him, “I went in there to return this.”
Hermione dropped her hands from him as he reached into his left trouser pocket and brought out a black velvet box.
“So you were going to-”
“It wasn’t for her, you twit!” Draco huffed a laugh before he ran a hand through his hair, looking at her expectantly.
Hermione went completely limp.
She could only manage a “What?”
“Don’t play dumb, Granger.”
“I’m not, I’m just…when?”
Draco’s chest expanded with a deep breath.
“November 25th. Last Friday.”
Hermione’s breath halted in her chest.
He kept his eyes on the floor as she stepped to him, only looking at her when she cupped his cheek before enveloping his lips in a sweet kiss, an apology that she never properly gave him.
He laid a hand flat over hers to keep it there as she lowered back onto her heels.
“But you didn’t return it.” She muttered, more to herself than him.
“I didn’t return it.” He echoed faintly, and Hermione stared into his eyes as her heart stuttered in her chest.
“Can I see it?” She asked after a long moment, and his smirk curled against her palm.
“You can wear it, if you’d like.”
Hermione’s smile grew to her ears as both her hands fell into his, the velvet tickling her right palm, but Draco faltered a little before he sighed.
“This wasn’t how I planned on doing this, I had a big romantic thing planned. Do you know how embarrassing it is to tell the harpist you hired to go home because you no longer require their services?” He said, and although warmth was still laced in his tone, Hermione’s smile turned uneasy as she bit her bottom lip.
“No matter,” he physically dismissed the thought with his hand before stepping to her side and offering his left arm, as he always did before they apparated somewhere.
They arrived in the garden, and a thousand butterflies swarmed in Hermione’s stomach, and not just from the slight motion sickness from their apparition.
The sky was darkening, but it hadn’t yet reached complete black. The stone-blue sphere painted a silhouette of the tall hawthorn trees surrounding the Manor gardens, their lamplights aflame and flickering a pale orange glow on the gazebo as they approached it.
“Well, at least we have the ambiance I wanted.” Draco murmured into her ear, and Hermione smiled up at him, overwhelmed with the honour of having this man on her arm, before pressing closer into his side and sliding her hand to wrap around his upper arm.
Draco placed his other hand on top of hers as they climbed the short flight of steps, and Hermione thought she felt it tremor before he tightened his grip slightly.
When they stopped in the middle, Draco paused, seeming not to want to let her go just yet.
He took the deepest breath he ever had before dropping his hand, and Hermione let go of his arm before he stepped in front of her, his eyes on his shoes.
She watched him as he reached into his trouser pocket, but as he took the box out his head jerked, and he looked at her the way he always did before he corrected her, his brow slightly creased but the corners of his mouth turned up into a playful smile.
“For the record, I was always going to call you Granger until you became a Malfoy.” He stated haughtily, smiling so lavishly at her she could’ve devoured him for all eternity.
She shook her head at him slowly with a huff of a laugh, her smile stretching from ear to ear.
“You’ll still call me Granger.”
“I know I will but-” He flashed his eyes to the ceiling, cutting himself off with a brief annoyed grunt before his smile returned.
“You just had to ruin it, didn’t you?” He said, but he stepped forward and captured her lips with a kiss before she could open her mouth to reply, uncurling his index and middle finger from the box to brush her neck softly.
“Now,” he started, giving her a jokingly chastising look before lowering onto one knee, opening the box held up in front of his face, and Hermione stared down at the dainty, glittering platinum band, twisting as it met the sparkling but modest diamond at the head.
It was perfect, but she wondered fleetingly how hard it was for him not to get the biggest diamond possible.
Hermione pulled as much air into her chest as she could, butterflies fluttering through every vein and vessel. She curled her toes to check she hadn’t lost complete control of her body and clasped her hands tightly together in front of her stomach.
“Hermione Jean Granger, will you ruin every affectionate thing I try to say for the rest of my life?” He smiled up at her, his whole face alight, only further enhanced by the fireflies charmed to dance around the columns of the gazebo.
“I’d love to.” Hermione spoke, her cheeks aching from the strength of her smile.
“You know that involves marrying me, right?” He said, feigning inquisition.
“Oh, just put it on my finger already!” She said, flapping her hand a little, and he plucked the ring from its bed, placing the box on his knee and taking her left hand delicately with his right.
He kissed her knuckle softly before he slid the ring onto her finger, securing it at the top.
As his fingers drifted back down her hand, Hermione fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck, attacking his lips with a kiss.
Draco enclosed her waist in his arms, crushing as much of her to him as he kissed her back with all his might, the velvet box tumbling to the floor.
He brought his hands to her face as he pulled back only slightly, feeling bound to explode any second as he drank in the face of the woman who was now soon to be officially his.
“Fucking finally.” He breathed against her smile.
The next morning, Draco dropped the Daily Prophet in front of Hermione as she drank her coffee and he leaned on his hands on the counter either side of her, chest pressed against her back and nose buried in her hair as she read it.
She stared fondly at the moving picture of them beaming at each other on the staircase the night of Narcissa’s ball under the headline:
DRACO MALFOY ISSUES A WARNING
After proposing to his now-fiancée Hermione Granger last night, Draco Malfoy contacted me to give this statement on the affair: “If anyone even thinks about thinking something derogatory about my fiancée, I’ll throw you in the (expletive) dungeons.”
Hermione choked on her coffee.
“The expletive I used was ‘fucking’-”
“I know what expletive you used.” Hermione laughed before turning her head to the side where he dipped his head to meet her, capturing her lips sweetly.
Hermione raised her left hand from her mug to hold the side of his face, and Draco smiled at the metal band brushing his cheekbone.