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Hermione sighed in frustration.
She stretched out her legs and crossed her arms. The Australian sun was brutal, and even the protective charms, the shorts, the tank top, and the hood offered little help, yet she couldn't just walk away.
She sat in a small park, racking her brain, waiting.
"You look quite stressed, young lady," said an older woman with short brown hair. "Would you like a biscuit?"
There she is. The woman sat next to Hermione.
She handed Hermione a small box of biscuits, which Hermione gratefully accepted. "Thank you, they're my favorite biscuits."
The woman laughed. "Oh, what a coincidence, they're my favorite biscuits too, you know."
Yes, Hermione knew that. She knew it very well.
"Come on, tell me, what occupies such a young, pretty woman?"
"I'm getting married in a week," she said.
"Oh, how wonderful," the woman replied, but then she saw Hermione's face.
"Wait, isn't it wonderful?"
Hermione nodded quickly. "Yes, of course. My fiancé is the best man there is."
She thought briefly of Draco, how he had changed. The flowers that were waiting for her in the kitchen every morning. She thought of dancing and laughing with him. The late-night conversations, even before they had become a couple. "Well, admittedly, at first he bothered me a lot. We used to be great classmates , you know, but he was really awful."
"But now you'll marry him."
Hermione laughed. "Yes, exactly. Somehow things changed. We became colleagues after school and worked together for years. He became a friend and then more."
She thought of him again. Of his apologies and efforts. Of the promises he had maintained until this very day.
I will always love you, my Hermione Granger.
"He was always so proud of his surname, but now he even wants to take mine," said Hermione, because she simply wanted to.
"Well, isn't that lovely, dear," said the woman, nibbling on a biscuit and taking a large sip of water from a plastic bottle she carried with her.
"And why do you still look so unhappy?"
Hermione bit into her own biscuit.
The tangerine aroma filled her mouth and reminded her of days gone by.
"My parents died a few years ago, and I thought they would be at my wedding."
The woman let the cookie fall and turned completely to face Hemrien. Her knee touched Hemrien's. She placed her slightly sweaty hand on hers, but the wetness didn't bother Hermione. Instead, her heart stopped beating when she looked into that wonderfully old face.
"That's really terrible, dear. I'm so sorry." A lump formed in Hemrien's throat. She didn't want to cry, so she tried to suppresse the tears.
"What abo you ? Do you have children, a son or a daughter?"
The old woman shook her head. "No, unfortunately not. It never came to that. My husband and I had an accident a long time ago and then moved to Australia, but unfortunately the accident also meant that I couldn't have children. Also he sadly died some years ago."
Now Hermione began to sob. Thick tears rolled down her face. She couldn't take it anymore. She just couldn't anymore.
"Oh, dear child, I'm so sorry to tell you such terrible things right before your wedding."
The woman wrapped her arms around Hermione, putting down the water and the biscuit, regardless of which insects might now crawl towards her favorite food.
Hermione sniffed. "No, I'm sorry. I'm a bit upset, it's the stress."
The woman patted her head. " Certainly it is. But listen, my dear, I'm sure you'll have a really good day, and I can promise you I'll be thinking of you."
"That's really kind of you," said Hermione.
"Now, tell me something about this wedding and this husband. Tell me, does he look good?"
Hermione laughed. "Very good yes"
She wiped away her tears and continued talking with her. After half an hour, she saw Draco walking across the lawn directly towards her. "That's him. He's picking me up because we have an appointment," said Hermione.
"Wow," breathed the woman. "he is truly very very good looking."
Hermione laughed ruefully. "Yes, I'm quite satisfied too."
"Who's satisfied?" asked Draco. He pulled Hermione off the bench and kissed her on the cheek.
"Well, I am," she explained "I'm quite satisfied with you."
Draco placed a hand on her chest. "Well, that's a relief, really."
The woman also stood up. "I was just chatting with your fiancée."
"Well, that's wonderful," said Draco. He held out his hand and the woman took it. "I'm Draco Malfoy, nice to meet you."
"Monica Wilkins," the woman introduced herself.
Draco turned her hand and kissed it lightly, causing her to sigh briefly. "Very pleased," said Draco.
"Well, dear, your fiancé is quite a charming man."
Hermione leaned against him and said, "And indeed he is."
They kept talking for a while, neither stopping even though the burning sun.
When she and Draco later left the woman waved after her. "I really think of you and I wish you the best of luck with your wedding." H
Hermione almost threw herself back into her arms and cried uncontrollably, but instead she clung to Draco.
Just as they were out of earshot, he said, "Well, now I at least know what you'll look like when you're old."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "What nonsense. I always took after my father more than my mother."
She felt a pang in her chest, a thought of her father, who had died two years ago. Car accident. She hadn't been able to save him. Her mother had stayed in Australia.
This stranger she had met by change today, who wasn't a stranger at all.
"Well, if you say so."
"And when you're old, I really hope you won't look like your father."
Draco laughed. "Oh, so you don't like long hair?"
"Certainly not."
He took her hand in his and they looked for a place to apparate. But before Hermione could concentrate on it, Draco pressed her against the wall; the cold stone felt pleasant against her skin. They stood in a small dead end of a street in the suburb her mother had chosen as home.
Draco kissed her gently.
"Well, then you can be glad I look more like my mother," he murmured between kisses.
"I doubt it," Hermione replied, but then Draco kissed her on the mouth again, ran his hands over her bare stomach, and slipped his tongue into her mouth, and Hermione melted.
At least for that moment, their playful banter had subsided. And the pain too, at least very briefly.