Work Text:
“Why did you do this to me?’ Draco stared blankly at the ground.
“My heart is in pieces.”
Hermione laid a gentle hand on his back and rubbed it in soothing motions, hoping to console him in some way. The noise of the crowd had dimmed significantly after the initial shock and people around them started abandoning their seats, heading for the exits. Everyone wore similar expressions as Draco, all with their heads down.
“This happens sometimes, you can’t win them all,” she said, pushing through her own pain at the loss.
“What do you do after this?”
He still hadn’t moved an inch, despite their row being nearly empty at this point, the music blaring in the stadium as the organizers prepared for the medal ceremony and a group of men in bright blue jerseys celebrated on the pitch below.
“You get drunk. You cry a little. And then you hope to win the next one,” Hermione answered Draco, reaching down to grab her purse to prepare to leave.
“No, wait,” he grabbed her arm as she made to leave. He turned back to the pitch and stared at the men in white as he said, “I won’t leave until they leave.”
She put her purse down on her seat and grabbed his hand, both turning to watch as the England national team lined up to get their second place medals at the European Football Championship.
Draco had always been aware of football–growing up in England, even as a pureblood wizard, it was hard not to–but he hadn’t developed any interest in the game until a Sunday lunch at her parents’ house this summer. Her dad had the game on in the living room and Draco joined him, at first only to be polite, but by the end of the game Raheem Sterling’s goal had made him a believer.
“Dr. Granger, you’re a stronger man than I am,” Draco turned to her father on his right side, the man wearing an identical expression of hurt, disappointment, and sorrow.
“I don’t know how you’ve done this your entire life. I’m not sure I can handle another tournament like this.”
“It’s our lot in life, son. We hope, we believe, and sometimes we get our hearts broken. Just like life,” Hermione’s dad grabbed Draco’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
Hermione stared at the two most important men in her life, sharing some of their disappointment to a degree, while simultaneously fighting a laugh as she witnessed them philosophize over a game of football.
Finally, once the England squad had collected their medals and the crowd gave them a final applause, they picked up their belongings and headed towards the exit.
Hermione and her mom trailed behind the two men, allowing them their space. Dr. Granger had an arm around Draco’s shoulder, despite the blonde’s significant height advantage, and Hermione heard him mutter, “Just wait till we start the Prem season. This is an Arsenal household, you’ll know true heartbreak then.”