A/N: Hello all, and thank you for viewing my short story. This has been on my mind for about a year now, and I've finally decided to publish it. If they are any literature lovers out there, you will recognize that my ending is influenced by the book The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway. I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to review!
Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She was starting to wonder why she had come in the first place. She desperately looked around the large ballroom, now turned dance floor, for some means of escape. A large, thankfully empty-looking balcony caught her eye on the opposite side of the room. Hermione wondered if she'd be able to make it there, unnoticed. Deciding that it was well worth the risk, in exchange for a means of temporary escape from the party, she began towards it. Sure enough, she had to decline dance requests from numerous men, all of whom maintained varying degrees of drunkenness, before she was able to reach the balcony. Once there, it seemed a small price that she had to pay to receive such a panoramic view of the gardens below, the starry sky above, and more importantly, the pleasurable peace and solitude. It was a harsh contrast between the atmosphere of the ballroom and that of the balcony, and Hermione much preferred the latter.
The solitude, the night chill and the moonlit gardens below were just what she needed, she thought to herself, taking a deep, refreshing breath of the air around her. Hermione felt as though she had been drowning in there, and this was her life saver. She stood there, meditating upon the last year, and what it had brought her, and though the negative seemed to definitely outweigh the positive, she was most glad that it all happened, for it made her wiser with each trial.
Hermione's trance was shattered, however, when she felt another's presence on the balcony. It was at least good while it lasted, she thought to herself. She was in two minds as to whether she should leave the balcony for the newcomer to enjoy it as she did, when she heard them speak.
"It really is beautiful out here, isn't it?"
Upon recognizing the voice, a faint smile played along the lines of her lips. She turned to respond.
"Yes, really breathtaking. It makes up for the droning activities in the ballroom."
"The biggest and most exclusive party of the year is occurring a mere few feet from you, yet you call it a drone? You ought to be grateful you were invited!" he replied.
"Surely you know me well enough to know that parties aren't my thing."
"Then, why bother come?" came the retort.
Why bother come. That had been the question that had been plaguing her mind the entire night. Yet, the few drinks that she allowed herself to have at the event had finally caught up with her. She faced her thoughts with nothing but acceptance for the first time for the night. The reason she came, actually stood right in front of her, asking her the very question that she had been asking herself all night. The question, which, she realized as she was finally being honest with herself, she had the answer to all along. The question, whose answer she only just then had the courage to admit. The answer, which she would give him now.
"You." Hermione replied. "I came to see you." There it was. The brutally honest answer.
Draco did not miss a beat.
"You claim to have come to see me, but yet, this is but the first conversation that we've had all night."
"I mean what I said, Draco. I only came to see you. I am not one of your groupies. I never have been, and I did not intend to become one for the night. Seeing you was merely enough. I came for closure."
Seeing that Draco had finally paused to contemplate upon her words, Hermione decided that this would probably be her limit for the night. She came for closure, and she earned it, but there was no need to test its strengths at the moment. It was time for her to leave.
As she made an attempt to pass him, and return to the party, Hermione felt a hand hold on to her wrist. She looked at him and gasped. The way he looked at her, the way he always looked at her, made her melt. She did not resist his touch. She never would. His eyes seemed to bore into her very soul – a feat no one else would ever be able to achieve. A feeling of excitement washed over her, that she only felt when she was with him. Lost in it all, she was not aware of the fact that Draco's face was slowly inching towards hers.
When his lips met hers, all she felt, all she knew, was the shock of her heart at his touch, the flips of her stomach at his proximity and his intoxicating scent that overwhelmed her. His scent was what made her weak to the knees and giddy with happiness. She could get drunk off of his scent. Draco was the only one that would be ever capable of making her feel like this.
The kiss was bittersweet. It was slow, deep and passionate. It was one in which they both poured every ounce of feeling into, as if the world depended on it. For they knew, that this would be the last one between them. This was their last kiss.
Draco slowly pulled away from her, and gently rested his forehead on Hermione's. He remained there, eyes closed. Contemplating. Then, with a sigh, Hermione heard him speak.
"We could have had such a damned good time together…" he whispered to her.
Pulling herself out of her trance, Hermione looked up at him sadly. He was and would forever be the one she had been searching for. Yet, instead of telling him that, she managed a small smile at what could have been.
Slowly backing away from him, she knew in her heart that this was it. This was their end. This was their goodbye. And with that, Hermione whispered the last words that she would ever speak to him.
"Yes, isn't pretty to think so?"
Draco had finally opened his eyes. Hermione was gone.
