AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm putting Chimerical on a hiatus, I'm sorry, I've run out of inspiration. This one's something I have halfway done, and so I'm gonna post it.
STORY DETAILS: The title comes from the legendary Stanfour. Their 2008 album, Wild Life, feautures It's Not Over. Listen to that goodness, if you haven't. The titles of the chapters, too, are bits picked up from the song.
The POVs will keep switching b/ Draco and Hermione. Preferably alternative. But. Let's see.
Further, this story is told witch each chapter featuring flashes from the past. They are in italics and are written in past tense. Don't get confused.
I have four chapters of this pre-written, and I'm predicting that I'd wind it up in the next four. Or five, maximum. No prologue, no epilogue - as of now. If this finishes off at the ninth chapter, though, I'll give it a short epilogue to make the total look better.
Read on!
When You Were All There
Draco stifles a yawn behind clenched teeth. This meeting has gone so beyond the limit of what makes things 'boring', that he's beginning to suspect some ploy of his father's in the name of a board meeting.
Like, see, he's planned a gallant-ish dinner with his girlfriend of two years, tonight. And he has to ensure that everything at that restaurant is in order, before making himself presentable. And, though his father doesn't not support his relationship, exactly - after two years, at least - Lucius does tend to plant hurdles in his way when Draco is onto planning something big for the love of his life.
And, so, the meeting seems so damn much unnecessary that Draco's hardened, irritated, glaring eyes are finding their way back to the other end of this table for twelve. His father hasn't once looked his way. Should that arouse doubt in his head?
He isn't sure whether it should, but it does, nonetheless.
Having gotten enough, Draco abruptly clears his throat, smoothly cutting into his father's rants of more campaigns equals more profit, gentlemen, and Ricky Rogers is the very best person in the field, and after two years, it's time he got what he deserves, and I'm certain your votes would sum up to an inforned decision. The members turn their shocked faces to gape at Draco. His father, however, lifts an eyebrow, as a compliment to that knowing quirk to his lips.
"Yes, dear, Malfoy Junior?" Lucius' voice floats. "Something of significance that you'd like to add?"
Draco bristles as Lucius' smirk grows. That man! Recollecting all of the remaining semblance of professionality in him, Draco stands up and straightens the tails of his deep grey, Muggle-tailored, three-piece suit.
"Pardon me, gentlemen," his voice is chilled baritone that his girl always warns him against using in personal environment, lest he scare people away, "but I'd like to discuss something highly significant with the Director, in private."
Flustered, people nod and begin to collect their files that are scattered all over the place. Draco sighs. He's going to blame his next action on his girlfriend having rubbed off way too much on him.
He waves a hand to halt their processes. "You could just excuse us, yeah?" The board members nod, darting a nervous glance at Malfoy Sr. "Shall we, father?"
Lucius purses his lips and gives a courteous tilt of head to the table before stepping out if the meeting room, hot on Draco heels.
Draco doesn't take a moment before charging into his father's face like a cannonball. "What on earth is wrong with you, father?" he shrieks, belatedly noticing the inconspicuous hand gestures that is father has made to trap the two of them in a bubble of Silencing charms. "I - I'd told you that today is a very important and - and special day for me," he rages on, "I've been telling you since past week - and yet you've taken no mercy and have called me to this - this ridiculous meeting about - about fucking Ricky Rogers?" he yells, incredulous. "Seriously? These people know the man, father, they could've taken a proper decision even without someone shouting out for Rogers. Hell, father, Laura could've handled it; you didn't have to come, too!"
Lucius sighs. "Alright, you have me there." He shakes his head, clearly holding back a grin at Draco's outrage. Draco cannot believe his eyes! "I did plot against you sitting back and brooding in your wing, which" - he raises a hand up, halting Draco from beginning another outraged rant; because hell, but he has a date to plan, why'd he freaking brood? - "I know you'd have done, because there's nothing you can actually do before nightfall. Excuse me, Draco, but I care about this special day of yours. I wasn't meaning to actually harm your evening."
Draco sniffs. "I highly doubt that."
Lucius chuckles, patting his shoulder. "I wasn't." He shakes his head, turning on his heels to advance back to the meeting room. "You may go on, take care of your private business," he speaks over his shoulder, "you are no longer required, here. Additionally, I'd rather you didn't give Laura that much credit, son. She's merely an assistant."
Draco keeps scowling at his father's retreating back until Lucius is out of sight. Then his shoulders slump in relief, and he lets out a dramatic, "whoosh," as he sighs.
He does a quick mental scan and decides that he's going to check up on the arrangements at the restaurant after he drops by at the Ministry to see his girl. She's been keeping awfully busy, these past days, and he hasn't even seen the blasted witch since yesterday afternoon.
Taking a deep breath, he brushes his fingers over the embossment that is his wand through the layer of clothing - tucked in a pocket of his shirt, as it is - and disapparates.
Topless sunbathing?
Draco had never understood Muggles and their awfully forward cultures, despite spending that terrible month of his exile in their company - and he was fairly certain he never would - but he didn't have an idea that Muggle-born wizards - and witches, in this case - tended to that Merlin forbid stuff, too.
He gaped at the gorgeously rounded globes of tanned flesh that surrounded those proud, dark pink, erect nipples, before his eyes, for longer than what would have been civil. But then, sprawling practically naked on a public seashore wasn't civil, in the first place.
He cleared his throat, swallowing through its parchedness with difficulty. "Granger?" he croaked.
The asleep brunette stirred, causing her luscious breasts to jiggle, and Draco -
Well, he whimpered.
And, then she screeched.
"Merlin! Woman, shut up, it's just me - Draco!" he spoke over her high pitched shriek, leaning forward to grasp her wildly flailing hands.
Instead, he got a handful of something else.
And that shut up Hermione Granger with a resounding gasp.
He froze, too, looking between his hands - the one firmly gripping her right shoulder, and the other cupped around her left breast. Experimentally, he tightened both of his clutches, and -
Just held back a moan. Merlin, this woman has some assets!
Said woman, meanwhile, yelped and shoved him away. He toppled over his haunches, falling flat on his bum.
"Ow!" He cringed, gingerly patting away sand from his deep blue, corduroy shorts.
"What the hell, Malfoy?!" Granger hissed, now having deftly draped a towel over her topless, upper body. What a shame.
"Hello to you, too, Granger," he mumbled, getting up. "I'm here on Shacklebolt's orders. Apparently, the petition you and I had submitted for the same post has been seen to." He sighed, looking back at her dumbstruck face. "Well, hurry up, Granger, he's waiting for us, there, with a position to give away."
Granger's shocked face morphed into disgusted. "You filthy pig," she snarled, wrapping the towel around her torso with expert hands, causing it to drop to her knees - shielding her little, flimsy, lacy, delectable thong from his vision. "You - you think you can ogle me, and - and freaking grope me, and get away with it?"
He smirked, raking his eyes over the girl he'd seen after five, fat years, and smirked more when she squirmed self-consciously. Then, he winked. "Yes."
Her office is empty, but that doesn't bother Draco much. Hermione isn't a social butterfly, and there are very rare places he's ever seen her wandering off to.
Making a list, he decides to begin his search from the Ministry Cafeteria.
The walk up to that area is pretty long from Hermione's office. Draco smiles and tilts his head at people he passes on the way. His father's Potions' business has soared after the bumpy ride it dealt with during the war. And now, being 'Malfoy Jr.', the obvious and only precedent to the Director's chair at Felicis Potions, has come to mean something good. Being Draco Malfoy has come to mean something good.
He smiles at his mental musings, until a voice takes him by surprise -
"Long time, no see, Malfoy Junior?"
Draco stops and looks over his shoulder with a frown. His face breaks out into the biggest grin possible when he finds Pansy Parkinson waving at him.
"Pans!" he exclaims, rushing back to envelope his longtime companion - uh, girlfriend, too, technically, but that is embarrassing and so they never mention it - in a warm hug. "How've you been? How's Rio?"
The witch giggles at his enthusiasm, pulling away to give him an affectionate peck on the cheek. Then she smiles. "I'm awesome, Draco, and Rio is way better than what people think it to be!"
He grins at her. "That good, huh?" He wiggles his eyebrows, suggestively. Then, leaning closer to her, he says in a conspiratorial whisper, "what's the score?"
Blushing scarlet, Pansy whacks his head upside. "Zero, you pervert! A month, and you're asking me the score?" she scolds him, shaking her head in disappointment.
He shrugs. "You went there to have a change of breath. Wasn't that far-fetched from where I see it," he cheekily retorts.
Pansy rolls her eyes, sending a sideways glance to the elevator he has just stepped out of. "Uh, Draco, I know we've got to catch up, and Merlin knows how bad I've missed you and Daph, but I'm in a hurry and have to run…" She suddenly pauses, eyes wide and guilt all over her face. "How's Granger?"
Draco's face falls from mischief to utter happiness "She's the best, bloody thing in my life, Pans."
Pansy breathes out, as if in relief. "That is - beautiful. Because the sort of explosive people you two are? I always fear you'd blast off."
Draco smiles at that. "You're becoming softer by the day, woman. Something you gotta tell me?"
Pansy's face turns alarmed. "T - tell you?" She chuckles, nervously. "Nothing specific, Drake, just the… overall account of my trip. Why d'you ask?"
Draco grows suspicious at this. Pansy's clearly hiding something. And, from the looks of it, he's gonna wager a 'love-affair' that she worries he'd not approve of.
"Um - I, uh, have some… stuff,"she hurriedly says, looking back at the elevator, "to take care of at - ah, the - the Auror Office. See you later?"
His eyes narrowed, Draco has just nodded before Pansy rushes off to the epic elevator belonging to the Ministry of Magic.
Shaking his head at her antics, Draco rolls his shoulders back and continues on his way down to the cafeteria.
"But, father, that Ministry job would have - "
"Not been of any use to me," Lucius cut Draco's protests off. "Think about it, Draco. Your input at Felicis Potions is going to do wonders to our success!"
Draco looked at his mother, pinning her under the most pleading gaze he could muster.
"No, Draco," Narcissa said, calmly. "The Ministry has already done a lot for us. Harry Potter has pushed far too many buttons for the sake our family in return of our barely there favors in the war. We cannot risk all that by questioning the Minister's decision."
Draco groaned in agony. "I have every right, and every damning qualification that falls in the job description!" he cried out, frustrated out of his wits. "Granger got the job only because she's a freaking hero of the war, and I'm - I'm - "
Lucius cleared his throat, causing Draco to look at him. "Firstly, check your language, son, you're a Malfoy with a reputation to uphold," he said, his voice a menacingly cool baritone. "Secondly, said reputation isn't going anywhere - if not gratifying - with you taking up the post of CEO at Felicis Potions."
"And," Narcissa added, "not to forget the benefit your involvement is going to cause to the company, as your father has already told you. You've been a prodigy at Potions, Draco, and it's about time you put that to use."
Draco sighed.
Would they understand he wasn't actually moaning because he lost his chance at being an employee to a new fucking department at the Ministry? Would they understand that he was more than happy to join Felicis Potions?
Because, Salazar knew, he was. And he was very much aware how this involvement was way better than a petty, Ministry job.
He wasn't upset because of that, no. He was upset because of Hermione Granger. He'd lost the job to Hermione Granger.
Would they ever understand that he'd come second to Hermione Granger, again?
Draco smiles at the enigmatic image she makes when she's telling a story. He laughs with Ginny Weasley when Hermione's face comes out of her mug with a Butterbeer moustache.
Then he pushes the glass door open and all the voices from inside filter out. He smiles broadly when he catches on her voice overpowering all others as it falls into his ears.
"...and such a righteous git, I tell you!"
His interest piques. Frowning in concentration - and telling his conscience to go, shove it! - he slides into a corner booth, about five tables away from Hermione and her redheaded best friend, and listens.
"...really, Gin, I swear to God, I regret putting in that sodding petition for this job! I won't have even met him, in the first place, had I not done that!"
Draco's heart skips a beat. Who the fuck is she talking about?
"Oh, come on, 'Mione, you love - "
"No, Gin, I don't! I mean, not anymore."
Draco draws a sharp breath. She cannot possibly be talking about him, can she? Stop it, you moron, she loves you! he mentally chides himself.
"Hermione!" Ginny gasps.
"No, Ginny, I'm serious. I mean, than sodden, blonde git is following me everywhere!"
Draco stops breathing. Shit, she is talking about him…
"Hermione, please - "
"Hear me out, Ginny! That - that bastard, that clingy idiot, I tell you… So we do have a reason to stick close. But that doesn't give him rights to pop out of thin air - literally, too - in my office, as and when his bloody, blackened heart desires!"
Draco's heart clenches painfully in his chest. This is so not happening…
"What do you - "
"Don't even get me started, Ginny. I so regret smiling at him that first time I did!"
The back of his eyes prickle, and he shuts them with a sigh of agony.
"I mean, fine so he is an important part of my life, but - come on, I've got more important things to do than blink and nod at all the nuisance he spews! I've got a life that so doesn't involve him!"
But I haven't. Draco cannot begin to decide how this feels. Actually, no - it feels like getting stabbed by a fucking dagger, is how it feels!
"Hermione, that's enough, okay? I - I guess you should stop - "
"No, Gin, listen! He's went as far asking me if I was free tonight. Tonight? I mean, damn, but I'm not his personal elf - to be at his disposal as and when he bloody pleases! And we met - what - yesterday? Isn't that enough?"
Holding back the pathetically treacherous tears that are filling up behind his shut eyelids, Draco tries - in vain - to swallow that freakishly enormous lump in his throat. Grunting in defeat, he takes in a long, cleansing breath and gets up.
He doesn't need to hear more to be certain that ring he's kept safe in his bedside drawer for the past week needs to be set on fire before tonight.
A tear trails down his cheek despite his rapidly blinking eyelids as he walks out of the Ministry Building.
...thoughts?
xo, Aishwarya!