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The cartoon mouse on the card cover looked back at Hermione with big round eyes, little hearts fluttered out of the card and vanished when they came in contact with Hermione’s forearms, leaving cute little marks. This card was nothing short of sarcastic and frankly a little insulting.
Sorry.
Draco Malfoy
That is all he wrote below the words: HAPPY VALENTINES.
She ripped the card in half at the spine, scaring the mouse and wrote behind the cover as if it was a postcard. She wrote her reply in big angry letters:
SORRY!!??
She charmed the card to fly at cutting speed towards Malfoy’s office. People dodged it while they worked, already accustomed to avoiding Hermione’s rage-filled paper-cut missives.
Malfoy didn’t answer, instead, he barged into her office looking dishevelled with his sleeves rolled up and faint little pink hearts on his forearms.
‘Fucking hell Granger. Can’t you just accept an apology?’
‘Yes I can, I can accept an apology. A proper one! It should include an explanation, an acknowledgement of responsibility, a request for forgiveness, an offer of repair and most importantly, a general sense of remorse. Your apology is lacking.’
He stared at her with a slight smile on his face. Did he think she was being cute! The gall!
‘You’re right,’ he conceded, ‘I’m sorry I made your life terrible, and I’m sorry about the War.’ He looked vulnerable and sincere.
‘Better, but still not specific enough,’ Hermione countered cruelly, delighted to hold him over the proverbial barrel.
‘If you want me to be specific it might take hours. Wanna grab a beer and listen to my full apology?’
‘It’s Valentine’s day,’ She said a little affronted, ‘I have a date!’
‘I don’t care.’ He answered blandly. She thought about this, her date was with some wizard called Erikson or Jakobson or something. She could easily cancel. A night getting smashed with Malfoy and listening to his many sins would be a lot more interesting. Especially if she got to rub his face in it.
He raised an eyebrow at her silence, waiting.
‘I don’t want to go anywhere fancy, this isn’t a date’ she replied, he nodded looking a little pleased, ‘I finish at 5 but I usually stay until-’
‘-7 I know, I’ll come to get you at seven,’ and he left her to wonder why he knew her schedule.
They went to the Hog’s Head, Malfoy being persona non grata at Three Broomsticks. They took a booth in the corner and he talked for hours. They both did. So engrossed in each other they didn’t even touch their drinks. Eventually, Malfoy let go of the torrent of tears he had been holding back and Hermione sat on his side of the booth and comforted him. She cried with him. The War had done terrible things to both of them.
They held each other and started kissing as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
They snogged each other in a dimly lit corner of one of the least reputable bars in magical England until Hermione apparated them away.