Matter of Time

A/N: Just a random one-shot that popped into my head a while ago. Hope you like it! Please Read and Review! :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the storyline - everything else is J K Rowling's.

Hermione stood outside the massive hall with an empty flute of champagne and a throbbing headache. It was Harry and Ginny's wedding reception and, whilst she wasn't drunk, she knew that it would only take a few more drinks before she transcended from 'tipsy' to 'intoxicated'.

She didn't even know why she was so depressed. Harry and Ginny had finally gotten married – and they deserved every happiness that they received. She knew better than anyone how hard it had been for them, and she genuinely wished them every success for the future. But there was this irritating feeling in the back of her mind that just wouldn't go away. She'd spent the entire day talking to guests, making sure everything was in order and performing the usual Maid of Honour duties required of her, but she still felt weird. That's why she'd decided to come outside for some air in order to clear her head and make sense of her tangled thoughts.

She looked out on to the beautiful grounds with a wistful expression on her face. There was a cool breeze in the air and she wished that she had on a more practical dress - the bridesmaid dress she had on was thin, tight and revealing. Not exactly ideal for an October wedding. She twirled the empty flute around in her hands, enjoying the peace, before noticing a figure walking towards her. In the minimal light provided she couldn't really make out any of his features other than his hair - it was so blond that it seemed to glow. Who did she know with hair that blond?

"Evening Granger."

And suddenly, every defense mechanism in her body stood to attention.

"Malfoy. Last time I checked, you weren't invited."

"Yeah, well last time I checked, it was a free country."

Hermione rolled her eyes and studied him carefully as he walked up to her. Not a lot had changed since she'd last seen him when they were both seventeen: he was still unhealthily pale with an attractively chiselled jaw line; the same enchantingly translucent, alluring eyes, and a Quidditch player's physique. He'd grown a little more, making him about six foot, and seemed to be sporting stubble.

"You never used to have facial hair," she stated with a frown.

"You never liked it."

"It makes you look scruffy," she said in a matter-of-fact tone that she seemed to use a lot around him.

"Well, there's no reason for me to look smart anymore, is there?"

"Like you've ever needed a reason!"

Draco smirked at her reply and she felt her stomach flutter. It amazed her how after five years, the same devilish smirk that screamed 'danger' still filled her with a fuzzy, light-headed feeling.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy? And don't say it's to wish Harry and Ginny good luck because it's not remotely believable."

"Evidently having more fun than you!"

Hermione gave him a dark look which made him grin even more in triumph.

"Seriously – you're outside in the cold on your best friend's wedding day, on your own with an empty glass, clearly in a bad mood!"

"I wasn't in a bad mood until you showed up!"

Draco raised his eyebrows patronisingly and she sighed in annoyance.

"I wasn't! I came out here to get some fresh air because it's incredibly stuffy in there!"

Draco nodded with a smug smirk that showed his disbelief. Hermione utilised all of her strength to repress the impending explosion she knew was coming, and tried to turn the tables back on him.

"You still haven't told me why you're here!"

"I was getting some fresh air, just like you apparently," he said in a light tone that he knew would irritate her further.

"Oh please!" she exclaimed angrily. "Like I'd believe that you came to your enemy's wedding reception for fresh air!"

Draco's smirk faded and he suddenly took on a more serious look.

"I came to see you."

Hermione swallowed thickly and said nothing as Draco's eyes travelled over her appreciatively. Damn the stupid, revealing bridesmaid dress! She inwardly cursed as his eyes lingered briefly on her exposed cleavage.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to." He replied in a slightly husky tone.

"Why?"

"Does everything have to have a reason?" he asked before walking over to a bench over-looking the grounds and sitting down.

Hermione glared at his retreating back, hating the way he was making her feel. Whenever she was with him, she began to act like a jittery, love-struck sixteen year old, and she hated it. Even now, after he'd chosen to fight for the Dark Lord and she'd chosen to have nothing more to do with him. She despised his arrogant and conceited nature, but found it incredibly appealing at the same time. It was like there was a part of her that was awakened whenever he was around – a reckless, wild and irresponsible part that she kept hidden deep inside of her.

This was not good. She was with Ron. She loved Ron. Draco Malfoy was a bad seed – a substance that should be made illegal. He was like a tornado that riled her up, and left her broken amongst destruction that he'd caused long after he'd gone.

Despite this, she found herself joining him on the bench a few moments later. They both sat in a stubborn silence for a few moments until Draco decided to break the silence.

"A little birdy tells me that you're going out with the Weasel?"

"And there it is!" Hermione exclaimed triumphantly, turning to face him with a knowing smile.

"There what is?" Draco asked in feigned innocence.

"The real reason why you're here! You wanted information! Draco, my relationship with Ron is none of your business…"

"Relationship?" he spluttered incredulously. "Please, it's a joke!"

Hermione glared at him.

"Call it whatever you want, but for the first time in a long time, I'm happy, and you are not going to change that!"

Draco stared at her as though she'd grown two heads. The intensity of his gaze bothered her, and she looked away. Draco gently cupped her cheek and turned her back towards him, the mirth and sarcasm gone from his gaze.

"If you were happy, you'd be in there with him. If this were a proper relationship, you would have scolded me properly for calling it a joke. If you loved him…" he leaned in closer. "You wouldn't be here with me right now. You'd do everything in your power to be as far away from me as possible!"

His eyes bore into hers and it took Hermione a few seconds to pull away from him defiantly.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy! You can't just turn up out of the blue and start psycho-analysing me!"

"I wasn't," he said in a flat tone. "You may have everyone else fooled, Granger, but it doesn't work with me. I know you, and I know the look you give to someone when you love them, when you want them. You're giving it to me right now, and I'd be willing to bet my inheritance on the fact that no other man has received it - especially Weasley!"

Hermione stood up, clutching the champagne flute in her hands and wishing beyond belief that it was a portkey. Draco stood up too, making sure that he was right in front of her so that she couldn't simply run off.

"Deny it all you want Hermione, but you know it's only a matter of time before reality hits you, and when it does, I'll be waiting."

And before she could say anything in response, he lowered his head and kissed her on the lips. Electric sparks seemed to fly and suddenly, nothing else mattered. He slid his right hand around her waist and pulled her even closer to him, whilst she, forgetting about the glass she'd been clinging to, ran her hands through his silky blond hair – familiar feelings of lust and desire washing over her as her tongue got reacquainted with his. Neither of them noticed the smashed glass.

After a few moments they pulled apart for air and the cold air assaulted Hermione violently. She pulled away from him and tried to ignore the smug look on his face.

"You'll be waiting a very long time," she said simply before walking past him back into the hall.

Draco smirked as he watched her make her way back towards the hall, knowing that he'd won. The fragments of glass on the floor were proof of the fact that she still loved him. Just as she reached the door she stopped and looked back at him, an unreadable expression on her face. He winked at her and she blushed involuntarily, before pouting angrily and going back inside.

Draco grinned to himself; it was only a matter of time.