A/N: This story was written for the First Round of the Finals of the Fourth Season of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I'm writing as Beater 2 for The Wimbourne Wasps.

Name of round: OTP chaining

We're going to focus on your writing technique and team coordination to kick off the finals. The theme this round is literary devices and techniques that many writers use to make their stories more exciting and engaging and to give English teachers something to analyze the crap out of.

I'm posting as Player 4, so I am required to use an epigraph and an example of personification in my story; I also have to write about Sophie's (3cheersforidiots) OTP, which is Dramione (Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger).

Prompts used:

2. (word) hazelnut

6. (word) forgive

Word Count: (given by Google Docs) 1,311

Forgive Me

"This is perfect!" Hermione shouted, draping the elegant red gown over her bed.

She had spent the majority of her morning at Diagon Alley, looking for the perfect dress to wear to that night's Society for the Promotion of Elfish Warfare benefit. It had taken her years to finally get enough society members to host a party to promote the cause. Thanks to her hard work and the promotions done by Harry and Ron, she was finally able to run her own organization. The purpose of the benefit was to try and get people to understand the mistreatment of house elves, and to earn some more funding so that they could build some wonderful places for the creatures to go when they've experienced cruelty. This could also help them to find a place to live when they finally become free elves.

"I still can't believe you chose to hold your benefit at Malfoy Manor," Ginny commented, hanging her green dress up over the door of the closet.

"I didn't really have a choice. It was the only place large enough to hold as many people as we have coming. Besides, what better way to prove that elves are mistreated than to organize a benefit right at the source?" Hermione asked, picking out her earrings to match the dress.

"So, you're really just trying to expose all the places where elves are mistreated?" Ginny asked.

"I have no proof that the elves were mistreated at the manor, but I know a lot about the family. There's no doubt in my mind that mistreatment happened. This gives me the opportunity to prove a point."

"You know he's going to be there," Ginny reminded her.

Hermione stopped messing with her dress and looked at the cherry wood music box on her nightstand. Of course she knew that Draco would be there. He would have to be, considering it was his manor.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Hermione whispered, rushing to the bathroom so that she could start working on taming her mane of hair.

"Are you going to be able to look past it?" Ginny called after her.

"I have no choice but to."

Hermione shut the door behind herself and stared at her reflection in the mirror. It had been one stupid, drunken night in London when it happened, and she imagined that he had forgotten all about it. She wished she could forget it just like he had, but she couldn't. It was a memory that surprised her while comforting her. It warmed her, yet chilled her to the bone. She couldn't have imagined that she would have been so wrapped up in a moment with Draco Malfoy, but she was at that time. The vulnerability that came with lowered inhibitions had caused her to believe that it wouldn't mean anything to her once it was over. She had never been more wrong.

-XOX-

Hermione sat on the edge of her bed. She had instructed Ginny to go to the benefit first because she herself wasn't feeling well. The crimson skirt of her dress covered her gold sandals, and she couldn't help but glance down at the faded scar resting on her arm. She should be angry with him. She should hate him like she once did. She should forget all about him and just let the past be the past. There were so many things she knew that she should do, but she couldn't. That night had meant something to her, and now, two years later, she still couldn't abandon the hope that he would want her back. The dangers that came with being in love frightened her more because of whom she loved.

The cherry wood box that had been on her nightstand for the past two years reminded her of everything she felt. She reached over and grabbed it, running her fingers over the smooth wood and the words that were engraved on it. Forgive me, the box said. She remembered the night they'd stayed together. His scent had been a strange blend of spearmint and hazelnut that managed to drive her beyond wild. She had never before noticed just how icy his eyes were, but they seemed to melt when they were on her. She had loved the way he looked in the color navy, but she could never tell him that.

When the box was opened, it sung her a beautiful song that made her heart break into a thousand pieces. As long as it remained open, the box would continue to sing plaintive words of apology, beckoning her to forgive him for leaving her the next morning with a broken heart and no idea where he had disappeared to. The rational explanation to why she opened the box so often was because it would cry out when hindered from fulfilling its purpose. It wanted to sing to her; it needed Hermione to forgive him. The true reason was that she was afraid to forget, and hearing the song allowed her to remember.

"Why can't you just let me be?" she asked the box, but the box continued to sing.

"It's doing what I asked it to."

Hermione turned to look at the doorway and saw the one person that she had often hoped would end up leaning on its entry.

"That sounds about right. You would give me something that annoyed me for years with no hope of getting rid of it," she answered, standing up and placing the box back in its spot.

"You could have thrown it away," he said, slowly walking to her.

She had forgotten how incredibly gorgeous he was. His platinum hair was slicked back, and he was wearing navy, her favorite color on him. He had his hands casually hanging at his sides, and his eyes were searching her. He was admiring all of her details just as she was admiring his.

"Why would I do that? It would be such a waste," Hermione countered.

"Is that the only reason you kept it?"

"Why did you leave?" she asked.

"I thought that was what you wanted," he said quietly.

"Did you not think to ask me?"

"My reputation would-"

Hermione cut him off.

"Ah, yes, the old reputation trick. You want to know why I kept the music box? I kept it because I fell in love despite my reputation. I threw my reputation away the night we were together, yet I still cherish every second of it. I like having this reminder, this pity gift from you, sitting on my nightstand because it reminds me of every decision I made. Every poor, rotten decision is kept present, singing to me through the music box. Every tear is thrown back at my face because of your stupid reputation," she spat, turning around quickly to hide the tears that she knew were coming.

"The worst part is that I would do it all over again," she whispered, letting a single tear roll down her cheek.

"I was going to say that my reputation would have destroyed you. I see now that it did it anyway, even though I left," he said, placing his strong hands on her shoulders.

"Reputation will always be the reason that we can't be together," she paused, "and I think you know that."

"We still have tonight," he said, turning her around and kissing her softly. "I'm begging you to please forgive me." He took a breath, his eyes fluttering closed. "I hope you can."

The moment stretched out between them before she finally leaned forward and answered him with a kiss. One kiss became two, and before they knew it, they had shared so many kisses that they had lost count.

When Hermione finally made it to her elfish welfare benefit, it was with her man at her side, reputation be damned.