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She stepped inside the room where the ministry gala took place, entering alone. No arm to link hers with, no stranger to parade her around while gloating about having the Golden Girl on his arm for the night. She had grown tired of that charade; she preferred being alone to the company of a wizard who wanted her only for the fame and old stories.
She was wearing the most gala-fitting work attire she could find, a two piece suit and skirt. The suit was white, tailored, fitted jacket with a flared peplum waist. To match the suit she wore a full, knee length black skirt, and a pair of classic black heels. Her hair was tied into a tight bun, though she had failed at hiding some of the flyaways. And to top it all off she sported a deep red lipstick and some light mascara.
Years ago she would have never worn this look, years ago she may have put on more effort on her look, even going to the length of revealing more than enough skin to catch the attention of a certain blonde wizard. Not anymore; she had left those years behind, and everything that came with them.
She paraded around, made small talk with some of the attendants and, sipped on a glass of champagne. She got bored of it all fast enough. She found it funny how the gala somewhat represented an eulogy of her life, she hardly talked to anyone, Harry and Ginny were too busy with their firstborn, Luna was always traveling here and there for her studies, and Ron, well, they had never quite bounced back on their friendship after Hermione broke up with him. All she made in her life was small talk with her friends whenever she could.
Tired of standing in her heels she found a pillar to lean on while looking around the room. And that’s when she found him. There he was in all his splendor, in the perfect Slytherin green suit which fit him perfectly. Though this time his hair wasn’t slicked back, in fact it seemed as if he hadn’t combed it with his trademark gel. He did look good, she couldn’t deny that.
And as he mildly turned to the side is when she saw her, the gorgeous woman whose arm was looped around his. She was the perfect fit for him - blond, slim, long legs, amazing posture, good fashion sense, not a hair out of place, God even her laugh was perfect. As Hermione made a list of all of the woman's perfect qualities in her head she looked down at herself, as she looked down at her shoes all she felt was self pity. She was nowhere near the beauty of that woman, years ago, she might have consoled herself by knowing that at least in terms of intelligence, she was superior. But now, she wasn't so sure anymore. Hermione had felt for some time as if her mind had been slipping out of her reach. She no longer memorized books, charts, and facts. She no longer cared for that; it no longer filled her. Books didn't excite her like they used to. She now knew that things weren't that easy.
When she looked back up, his eyes locked with hers. She got slightly startled before sending a kind smile his way. He on the other hand murmured some words to the other worldly woman before dropping her hand and motioning Hermione towards the entrance of the gardens. And before she could protest her feet were already moving. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest at any time, she suddenly felt overwhelmed by all the noise from the gala as she tried to move her way through the swarm of bodies.
And there she was in front of him, him in front of her, smiling at each other. He held out his hand and she took it in a moment of bravery as they stepped out into the gardens.
How long had it been since they had been in the same room, let alone holding hands? And if he had been reading her mind he broke the silence with:
"How long has it been?" He was looking down at her, a smile on his face.
"I'm not sure." She was suddenly shy, not daring to look at him, preferring the beautiful scenery.
As they passed a pair of stairs leading to another entrance of the manor the ministry had rented for the gala, Draco asked, "Wanna sit?"
"Sure," she answered, letting go of his hand. As they sat down on one of the steps, they both looked at each other.
"So, how have you been?" he asked, once again breaking the silence.
"Fine... Yeah, just fine. You?" She was struggling. She never thought she would struggle to talk to Draco Malfoy.
"I'm good, can't complain really." He hadn't once taken his prying eyes off her.
"That's good." She was once again looking at her shoes. But before he could speak again, she took all the Gryffindor courage left in her, looked up at him, and asked, "When do you think it happened?" Hermione looked at him with a sense of longing.
"When do I think what happened?" he asked, knowing full well what she meant. He just wanted to hear her say it, for it to come out of her lips.
"When did we fall out of love?" There it was. Their love's death sentence.
They had fallen in love almost by mistake. They both returned to Hogwarts for their 8th year, him to try and redeem himself and her because she still had that brilliant spark. She was the only one from the Golden Trio to come back, and in seeking peace outside her Gryffindor common room, she stumbled upon Draco, who wanted to get through the year under a low profile. They found each other in the comfort of the library, first studying next to each other, then studying together until a friendship blossomed. They shared contained laughs in hidden spots between bookshelves, teamed up for class assignments, shared dearly loved books, until Draco made a move one quiet night in the library. Their friendship blossomed into something more. They spent the year using their Head Girl and Head Boy privileges to meet after curfew away from prying eyes. They were hopelessly in love and decided to continue their relationship after Hogwarts. But not long after, everything crumbled. Their fights became more frequent, and their "I love yous" less so. The thing was, they never told anyone they were together. Whenever the topic came up, they dismissed it, saying they would announce it when the time was right. And maybe that was it. Maybe their love's death sentence was not being brave enough to confront their friends and family and make their love known.
"I believe that maybe in the midst of all the chaos, when we started to slip from each other, is when it may have happened. In a way, I think we grew up, and our love stayed back," he confessed, feelings he had never shared with her about their breakup.
"Do you think it would have been different if we had told them?" She seized the opportunity to ask all the questions that had haunted her since they parted.
"I don't know. Maybe. Who knows. But there's nothing we can do now. I don't really have an answer for it. Do you?" He was curious to know her thoughts.
"I truly don't. Another question I don't have the answer to. They're starting to pile up, you know," she said with a small smile, resting her head on her knees. "I'm just content knowing that 18 and 19-year-old us are still in love. Because our love still exists. It may not be present anymore, but what once was always lingers. Don't you think?" A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, away from his gaze.
"Yeah, those kids will always be in love with each other. How I wish I could be him, just one more time."
A comfortable silence fell over them for the first time that night. They had experienced so many things together that unspoken words would always come easily to them.
But then, once again, he had to ask her, just to make sure she was still herself: "Granger, what did you mean by saying that unanswered questions are starting to pile up?" He was scared, scared that what he first thought when he saw her at the gala was true. That Hermione Granger no longer cherished her mind as her most beloved treasure.
"Oh, umm... Nothing really. I just haven't been feeling like myself for some time. It's been weird." He was right.
"Tell me you still read, Granger." He held onto his last hope. Hermione without books just didn't make sense.
"To be honest, I haven't read an entire book in a while. I never thought I would say this, but I got bored of them."
"Granger..."
"Don't do that. Don't you dare do that, Malfoy. You don't understand what my life feels like. All my friends are too busy getting married, building families, working in their dream jobs. They're living life, Malfoy. And where am I? I have a lousy ministry job that gets me nowhere because, God forbid, a woman could ever be part of the Wizengamot or Minister of Magic. I always thought that at this point in my life, I would be married, with kids on the way, in a top work position in the ministry. None of that has come true. I've disappointed her. I've disappointed my 11-year-old self that entered the magical world with hopes and dreams and a planned future. So forgive me for not reading anymore, for not being the smart, know-it-all witch." She wanted to cry her heart out, but she wouldn't, not in front of him.
"I'm sorry to break it to you, Granger, but by not reading, you are also disappointing her. I don't believe that in that future of hers, she had planned that books weren't present. Granger, every night we spent in the library, my favorite moment was seeing how your eyes lit up while browsing through the countless books. And I'm sorry if our relationship got in the way of your plans, I—"
"You know that's not true," she interrupted him. "I wouldn't change anything that happened between us. Those two years we gave each other were some of the best years of my life."
"I'm happy to know you feel the same way as me."
"Can I ask you something, Draco?" It had been the first time that night she had called him Draco, the first time in years.
"Whatever you want, Hermione." She had forgotten how her name felt when leaving his lips, how comforting it was.
"Who is she?" She was now resting her head on her knees sideways, looking at him.
"No one really, the daughter of family friends." He knew this question was coming sooner or later.
"Do you love her?" She was preparing herself for the blow.
"No, no I don't. Truth be told, I've only been in love with one witch in my life, and it'll stay that way until my last day in this corrupted world." He paused. "She can't compare to you, Granger. Nobody can."
Her breath hitched, but she didn't let herself get too hopeful. Their love was long gone; it had stayed back.
"Are you going to marry her?" She knew the answer, but she still had to ask.
"Probably."
"You already have the ring, don't you?"
"Yeah, yeah, I do."
"You know, I never pegged you for the type to get married, form a family, and all that stuff, especially after the war."
"Thing is, there was this witch that changed all that. She made me fall in love with life all over again," he said, smiling. "You know, people change, Granger."
"But do feelings change, Malfoy?"
"I believe they evolve. Some stay, but some stay not with you, but with a past version of yourself."
Draco spoke again. "You will always have 18 and 19-year-old Draco. He will always be completely yours."
"And yours is that Hermione."
The night held a light breeze that danced around them, while the open sky showed a masterpiece of constellations. In essence, it felt like one of the endless nights they had spent at Hogwarts under the midnight sky.
"Draco, does she make you happy, at least?"
"Yes, she really does. You two would get along really well, actually. She is all for the freedom and protection of magical creatures, especially house elves."
"She sounds nice. What a pity we'll never be introduced."
She rose, suddenly feeling like the past years had never happened, feeling like her dreams were on the way. He was about to rise when she dismissed him, letting him know she was leaving without him.
"Well then, Malfoy, I really hope you fall in love with her. I really do. You deserve it. But thank you for everything, but especially tonight, for this short time we had, which may be the last."
He smiled up at her. "Thanks to you, Granger. One thing though: please pick up a book, fall in love with them again, as a last wish from me to you."
"I will, I promise. Goodnight, Draco."
"Goodnight, Mione."
She turned away from him, and as she started to walk, she turned one last time. He was still looking at her. She had to ask just one more question.
"What do you think they are doing?"
"Right now?"
She nodded.
"Probably reading a book in the library, or looking out into the open sky, or if I may venture a bit further, snogging in the prefects' bathroom."
"Draco! Always having to ruin the moment, don't you?"
He shrugged, smiling. Now it was really time to go. They had left many things unspoken, but it didn't matter anymore. They knew that was it; they had finally found closure. This time, she started walking and didn't stop, didn't dare to look back. She entered the gala once more, found Malfoy's soon-to-be fiancée, smiled at her, and left. She was getting tired and wanted to make a quick Floo call to some of her friends, make herself a cup of tea, and get into bed with her oldest friends: books. Because maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be just fine.