AN: This was going to be a one-shot but I'm too impatient. I wanted to post a little something, something before I get into the next scenes. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about my other stories. All of those are still in the works but you can expect an update ASAP.
FYI – this is a non-Canon/AU fic set in a reality where Voldemort's plans in Goblet of Fire were never fulfilled, so the students of Hogwarts could enjoy the rest of their schooling peacefully without the happenings of the war going on around them. This story is Explicit, rated for a reason. There will be graphic depictions of a sexual nature as well as crude language and underage drinking.
You've officially been advised.
The Maytide Affair
Part One
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May 2nd, 1998 – Hogwarts Castle, the Scottish Highlands
This year at Hogwarts, they'd put on a mildly special event: the Maytide Festival.
It was a grand display, one full of music and art, food and drink, and learning how people did things the old-fashioned way. It was taking place as a time to remember and appreciate the medieval history of Magical folk. It went on all-weekend long and students and faculty were encouraged to wear costumes or ancient-fashions of the like.
It was Saturday evening and everyone who was anyone was piling into the Great Hall to attend the Grand Ball, just one part of the festivities. Draco Malfoy had Daphne Greengrass latched on his arm as they entered through the large doors.
During the summer holiday, Draco's parents had announced to him his arranged betrothal to her. However he hadn't been surprised in the least, having known for a while that this particular choice was coming.
Narcissa had expressed to him at a young age that Malfoys – if they can prevent it – prefer to marry those who are fair, with blonde hair to keep their future heirs looking like their previous ancestors. It was strictly about vanity.
Daphne had lustrous blonde hair, of course and Draco found it completely laughable that this was – underneath the surface – probably the swaying reason why his mother and father had decided upon Greengrass instead of Pansy Parkinson.
Actually, he'd rather got along better with Daphne much more than he ever had with Pans.
Pansy and he dated (bickered incessantly with one another was more like it) during fifth year for about five months before he'd walked into the common room and found her lip-locked with Slytherin sixth year Simon Wallis. It'd been horrific, which was an understatement. There was yelling and crying and fighting – all the good stuff.
They were friends again which was fine with him but he certainly wouldn't want to have to marry the insufferable girl, so he was very glad to be engaged to Daphne.
She'd been a doll, for the most part. She was prim and proper, had grace with every move – just like his mum. It was funny, almost like it was meant to be.
Daphne was dressed in an extravagant, pale-blue gown that appeared to be like it was taken right out of a history book – exactly how all the other witches were dressed, yet maybe not as extravagant. The wizards were donned in similar-type garb; leather or cotton trousers, vests, sleeved-tunics as well as fancy hats and cloaks were the typical go-to outfits for most of the young men about the castle.
Draco could say with confidence that he looked damned good in these medieval clothes. It was sophisticated – he almost wished everyone still dressed like this all the time.
He felt like pure royalty.
Tonight he'd decided to wear a coat-like, brocade tunic fit for a king, with buttons that lined half-way down the middle. It was a deep, velvety green-black, finely splayed with an intricate, matte pattern in silver. On top of his head he wore a matching silvery-crown with dark, onyx insets.
He let his hair get very messy these days, and it was longer. Right now it fell just past his chin but he always tousled it and swept the front of it away from his face with his hands. He still exuded his dignified, aristocratic nature but something within him had shifted this year. Draco felt he wanted to explore a bit more; he felt adventurous even – more so than he'd ever been.
Sure, he'd traveled to many places with his family and that was incredible in itself but he wanted more, to see something he'd never seen before – to feel things he'd never felt before. He wanted to go after what he truly wanted in life, whatever that might be. He still didn't really know yet.
Time at Hogwarts was coming to a close. His eighteenth birthday would pass by before long and he'd probably have to settle for some boring job at the Ministry. Why couldn't something far-more exciting be lined up for his life? He was rich. Why hadn't he thought about doing anything more worthwhile? He practically had the world at his fingertips.
"I fancy myself some punch," said Daphne suddenly, sweeping Draco out from under himself and he snapped back to his fiancé, his previously glazed over eyes now refocused. "Would you get some for me darling, I see Tracey over there with the others,"
Before he actually had time to form a response she was letting go of his arm and gallivanting in the other direction.
Odd… as much as he liked his betrothed, she'd been acting strange lately. She'd been somewhat distant and short with him, not in an angry way – just like she was somewhere else, in her own reality.
That was alright for now but if Draco was to have a wife, he'd really like it if she could open up to him. They'd been an official couple since the very beginning of the year and to be fair, he didn't know all that much about her.
He knew she got up exceedingly early to get herself ready for the day, keeping up with a scrupulous self-care and beauty routine. He noticed she preferred peaches and plums over apples and bananas, and took her tea with a dash of milk. Her favorite subject was Charms, which she did rather well at however she had an uncanny knack for Transfiguration incantations.
How much could Daphne say she knew about him?
Draco knew that Daphne and Theodore Nott used to shag every so often. That wasn't a big deal – he wasn't a virgin either. He and Pansy were each other's firsts. They'd been horny fifteen year olds, he had no other excuse.
Also, he'd observed that for a few weeks before the end of term last year, Daphne was briefly dating this charming, smarmy Hufflepuff, some nobody named Lysander Cupples. A brief lapse in her judgment, Draco would say.
When he'd asked her about it, Daphne told him she'd split with Cupples, that they just didn't mix well together and she was happy she'd been engaged to Draco anyway. He believed her, not to mention he didn't feel threatened by the badger boy in the least – git wasn't anything extraordinary.
Draco went to the punch and buffet bar, grabbing two glass goblets and filling them with some of the sparkling, pinkish tangerine-juice.
Just then, he heard fluttery laughter, a familiar sound that was easy on the ears. It was the Head Girl – Hermione Granger – and she was giggling over something the Weaselette was whispering in her ear.
That girl's appearance had changed quite a lot.
Her chocolate curls were miles longer, softer looking too. Currently she'd let most of her mane down, the top of it twined in a braided style that kept it out of her face. Her gown was far less ostentatious than Daphne's, more modest but it really suited her. It was a creamy, sugar-cookie colored dress with golden-biscotti lace trimmings and the tied, corseted scoop-neck really accentuated her round bosoms (which Draco was realizing he hadn't paid enough attention to).
Yes, Granger had grown to be a very fit witch. She was lovely, if he dared say so. He could admit it to himself, not that he'd ever get any ideas.
Whether he liked her or not (he didn't), she'd always been off-limits – Harry Pothead and Ron Weaselbee's best girl.
Although Weasley was going out with that irritating bint, Lavender Brown now as opposed to Granger, who he'd tried his hand with dating the year before. Unfortunately for Weasel-face, the Golden Lioness had broken up with him – Draco couldn't remember the precise reason though he was pretty sure he could guess why.
Either way, all three of the Gryffindors were his least favorite people on the planet. Just because Granger happened to be attractive meant nothing – he still detested her gung-ho, swotty self and all that.
For a moment as he was lingering there by the punch table, Hermione's amber-gold eyes flickered to his and their gazes locked. Her brow arched, giving him a quizzical look. Draco smirked instinctively, sending her a similar expression. He could have sworn he'd seen her freckled skin redden with the heat of a blush.
Finding himself surprised by that he shook his head, shrugging it off as he walked away to find his friends.
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"Did I just see what I think I-" Ginevra Weasley balked, her mouth open aghast as she looked back and forth between Hermione Granger and the Slytherin's retreating form. "Did you and ferret boy just share a look?"
Hermione was practically laughing her head off – the room was spinning. Was this fruity punch spiked? She'd had two glasses already. It must have been, she was feeling sort of buzzed, drunk even. Being drunk was the only plausible explanation she had for having just checked out Draco sodding Malfoy.
And he looked good too… really good.
Gods, he was irritating. Why had he been staring at her in the first place? She was almost angry, could feel her face get warmer as she became flushed with a mixture of emotions.
"I really don't-" she bit the inside of her cheek, shuffling her feet beneath her flowing dress. "He couldn't have been looking at me, was he? That just… simply isn't logical. It must've been a flicker of the candlelight," she paused, peering back up at Ginny who was grinning coyly and waggling her brows in suggestion.
"He was looking right at you," the copper-haired witch conveyed with conviction, leading them back towards Harry. Hermione was chuckling anxiously, letting her much rowdier girlfriend pull her along. "I saw it, right before you noticed him."
"I don't care," Hermione found herself answering suddenly. "Looking or not, I couldn't be bothered to wonder on it. I loathe the barmy prick and he loathes me, number one and two, he has a fiancé. Must I go on? You know very well-"
"Yes, he is the worst," Ginny interrupted. "And so is that prissy, bitchy fiancé of his. If I could, I'd turn them both into two, fat ugly toads."
"That's… I mean, you can technically." replied Hermione, not quite sure what to say or think about any of it.
They finally reached where Harry and Neville Longbottom had been standing and she was thankful they wouldn't have to talk about Malfoy anymore.
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Almost an hour and a half later, things were getting rambunctious to say the least, and somewhat disorderly. Everyone was stumbling about and a few were actually falling over. The students felt a bit cloudy, hazed and some of them were dancing a little bit too intimately together for a school event.
To most of them, it was clear the punch had been spiked.
The Head Girl was determined to figure out who'd done it.
Draco Malfoy couldn't find his date.
He prodded his chin, peering around the room for the twentieth time. It could be possible she went outside to enjoy the fresh air. There was an enchanted, romantic garden set for lounge and display on the grounds just outside the castle and he was thinking that maybe she'd went outside to avoid the stuffy atmosphere in the Great Hall.
Sadly, that was highly unlikely. He'd reckon she rather enjoyed this kind of event a lot. That's why he hadn't checked out there yet.
Heading for the doors, Draco went off to find his bride-to-be.
He was marching down the Entrance Hall when out of nowhere Pansy came barreling into him.
"Pansy…? Wha-" he'd literally danced with her ten minutes ago. That's why he'd lost his girlfriend in the first place – because he'd been so distracted by Pansy that he never saw where Daphne went.
Daphne had of course, allowed them to share a dance. It wasn't a big deal to her; they were all friends and this was their last year living together at school. It was nostalgic for them, and they were adults now, so a platonic dance was nothing serious.
"Where are you going?" she whined, her hands gripping up his arm and waist, trying to lure him back into the Great Hall. "Stay, come back inside. Theo was just getting ready to pull down Ernie McMillian's trousers!" Pansy tossed her raven-black hair back, cackling evilly.
They'd previously all been joking about how the grubby wanker from Hufflepuff never wore any undergarments, allegedly. A few of them wanted to know if it was true far more than Draco would have cared to discover.
"I'm trying to find Daphne," he relayed sternly. "I don't understand where she would have gone," he didn't like feeling so vulnerable. What if she wasn't okay? What if she was in some kind of trouble?
"Oh, I'm sure she's around – probably back inside, gossiping with Tracey," tried Pansy. "C'mon, let's go. I really want to see if McMillian actually-"
"I can't, Pans. I'm going to go check out in the garden. What if she's hurt and needs help?" Draco turned around to start walking again but Pansy caught him by the wrist. He flinched, swiftly glaring back at her with broiling frustration.
"Wait, don't go. Don't go out there," she croaked, unsure of herself. She was really starting to feel the effects from the alcohol-laced fruit-drink, everyone was.
Those words felt like a lightning bolt went through him. Something wasn't right. He snatched his wrist back from her, his silver eyes glinting with untapped fury.
"What do you mean, don't go out there?" he growled lowly. It was all coming together now. Pansy had been distracting him for a reason. "What have you done?"
She couldn't answer him, gaping and about to stutter. Without looking back he once again turned on his heel and all but ran for the doors to the grounds.
Any and all of his anxieties and insecurities were rushing through him, like a tsunami overtaking a whole island. At this point, all he cared about was that he was being lied to – whatever it was.
What was happening? Did the rest of his mates know something he didn't? His suspicions were killing him.
Once he reached outside, he slowed his pace. Draco's eyes darted around as if he were an eagle while he looked; he could practically smell the betrayal lying thick in the air.
There weren't many students meandering in the garden. It only took him a few moments to spot the corner of a pale-blue gown poking from behind a dense hedgerow – but Daphne wasn't alone, no. He could hear the chuckles. She was with somebody.
Draco took a deep, calming breath – in through his nose, out through his mouth. What a horrid situation. How the bloody hell was he going to do this? It didn't help that he was moderately inebriated.
"Hahaha, oh my," Daphne was full of such merriment. This type of laughter from her was very rare and Draco felt a crippling pang in his gut over the epiphany that he'd never heard the heiress sound so carefree whenever she was around him. She'd always seemed incredibly bored and just plain aloof at times when she was forced to be in his company.
This was what it was all along. Daphne Greengrass didn't even like him, did she? She didn't even care for him, not the way a husband and wife should care for each other.
Without another thought, he stepped towards the poorly hidden couple.
"So," he began, his voice penetrating the moonlit-night. Instantly Daphne and her beau jumped away from each other, utterly startled from the jarring intrusion. The usually so-proper girl was caught off guard. She was attempting to straighten up the front of her dress where it'd been completely pulled down to her waist, her breasts previously uncovered. "Yes, that's right – the jig is up," he crossed his arms, fidgeting with his chalice of punch in one hand. The contempt he felt was about to broil over like hot water from a steaming kettle.
"Dra-Draco-" stuttered Daphne, in shock as she was still trying to collect herself.
Who was beside her, fixing his britches and tucking in his tunic? It was Lysander Cupples, predictably.
"Cupples, really mate. I didn't think you had it in you," Draco started, getting closer to him and feigning a good attitude but the sarcasm was dripping from his teeth like venom. "I'm impressed. I've never once gotten Daphne to show me her tits," Draco growled and with a harsh thwack, his fist made contact with Lysander's face. The jolt of it sent the Hufflepuff straight to his knees, crying out in agony. Daphne gasped in terror, the astonishment evident in her expression. "Now could you get the fuck out of here so I can talk to, to…" he didn't even want to call her his fiancé anymore.
Lysander was rubbing at his already swollen cheek as spit out a spray of blood on the grass. He peered up at Draco, apologetic. "I-I'm sorry," he mumbled pitifully, getting himself to a standing position. Slytherin's Prince rolled his eyes, unamused and Cupples trudged away with his tail between his legs.
For a second they stood in silence, Daphne and him. However, it was not a comfort as they simply stewed, and wallowed in distress.
"Well, clearly you never broke up with Cupples," he stated, put-off.
"But I did," replied Daphne. "I did last year, but then…"
"Then…? What, being engaged to me wasn't enough? You couldn't have just… opened up to me? I was supposed to be your husband."
He began nearing back to the castle. "Was?" Daphne repeated, following behind him.
"Yes, was. I don't want to get married anymore, not after all this."
At first she let out a cry of frustration, quickly tearing up from the abrupt news but then she said coldly, "It doesn't matter what we want, Draco. Don't you remember?"
"Oh, I remember… but I don't give a damn about what our parents decided for us. I'm going back on the engagement, right now. Truly, I'm doing us both a favor. I refuse to let my life go by, stuck in an unhappy marriage with a witch who won't even give me the time of day,"
"But-"
Draco turned back around, glowering at her with pure disdain. "You know, I was so worried about you, Daph and here you were. You really are just a thoughtless wench. All you think about is yourself. Fine – then go be by yourself or with Cupples, for all I care. We're through."
"You're not serious," Daphne tried nervously.
"Completely," he was playing it cool but his chest felt tight. A violent temper was welling up inside of him and before long he was going to lose it.
"Please, I beg you to reconsider," she sniffed.
"If I were to ever even consider reconsidering, it certainly wouldn't be right now," he responded, gritting his teeth. "Leave me, I can't bear speaking to you any longer," he ordered her solemnly and with a sigh of defeat she obliged, leaving him to his thoughts.
After all of that, Draco couldn't believe he was still holding his drink.
Without any more hesitation he pelted his chalice against the stone of the castle, shattering the glass into a thousand pieces and splashing the spiked punch that'd filled it all over the place.
He was pretty sure he'd never felt this angry before, not like this – never in his life. He was only one step from taking his bruised fist and seeing if he might be able to make a hole in the wall with it as he imagined beating in Cupples' face again. Yet he knew that was useless and he'd probably break his hand.
Instead he pressed his knuckles stark against the now wet stone, seething with his rage as he ferociously mashed them into the rocks. He felt it stinging as it sliced through the skin and scratched him all up but after a moment, he was numb to the pain.
Just his luck he'd get cheated on again.
Was it really his bad luck though, or was it just him? Was there something… wrong with him? Daphne had barely kissed him their whole, measly relationship, had barely shown any interest in him at all. Was she actually in love with someone else, or was he really just that awful to be with?
What the bloody fuck was he going to do now?
Then just like that, another person made themselves known. Stepping from the shadows and into view perched the timid figure of Hermione Granger. Concern was etched into her features as she gazed upon him and the mess of broken glass beneath his feet.
Draco stared back at her apprehensively, sheepishly – wondering how this night could possibly get any worse.
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AN: Thoughts? Love to hear from you guys. Part Two coming soon.
