Title: Love's Illusions
Author: Roni Black
Rating: M, due to sexual content.
Spoilers: All seven books.
Genre: Romance, Angst.
Era: Takes place sometime in 2013. That's about fifteen years after the final battle. Ron and Hermione have been married for about eight or nine years; so have Draco and Astoria. Rose and Scorpius are seven years old, Hugo is a few years younger.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter! I wish I did, just like everyone here, but unfortunately I don't. I also don't own the song "Both Sides Now", it's Joni Mitchell's.
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Love's Illusions
It only happened once. That was all she could say in her defence. At the very least, it only happened once.
Hermione was sitting in her office, fingertips massaging her temples, trying hard to calm down. She had commited infidelity, yes, but freaking out was not a solution.
She couldn't even say that he had started it. Neither of them had. All he did was stare at her the same way she was staring at him. Perhaps with the same look of loneliness, of years of having lied to oneself, years of hiding one's unhappiness. The way he looked at her let her know that he knew exactly how she felt. For the first time in their lives, they had something in common.
And they embraced it.
It was just a work meeting, after all. Having come up from the Department of Mysteries with some sort of legal problem – they weren't sure whether the newly-designed Time Turners did not break some ancient law – she hadn't even had the time to hear all about it... The secretary of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement sent him to her office. As soon as he entered, and they both saw each other up close for the first time in fifteen years. And that was the first thing she noticed: how haunted he looked.
Just like herself.
She'd got to her feet and asked him what he was doing in her office, of course. Not maliciously, but deifinitely not in a welcoming tone. He shrugged and muttered something about the Time Turners, stepping up to her desk. Then he suddenly stopped talking and they looked each other in the eye, both narrowing their eyes as though trying to make a difficult assessment.
It wasn't even two minutes later that the office door had been magically sealed and they were in each other's arms. She'd given in to all her loneliness, her need of proximity and warmth. How she needed to be held like that, to hold onto someone as though her life depended on it. And in some ways, it did.
When Draco unbottoned her robes and allowed them to drop to the floor, she started breathing hard. Pressing herself up against him felt so good: she'd missed this kind of touch so much. She needed this. She needed him more than she could express in words. His kisses were fiery; her whole body was shivering with pleasure. She pulled off his robes, needing more of him, wanting to feel every part of her body against his, embracing the moment, savouring how it was obvious that he needed this just as much as she did.
Next thing she knew, they were entwined with each other, lying on the couch, kissing and panting, moaning and gasping, trying their best not to make too much noise, yet as they reached climax it was extremely difficult: it was the best she, at least, had had in... years, maybe... in forever.
And as he stared down at her with those gray eyes she'd learned to despise, and kissed her and held her close once more, they both knew: this had not been only physical, a thrill of the moment. This was so, so much more.
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A much bigger illusion, perhaps.
Hermione buried her face in her hands. Saying to herself it had been a mistake was stating the obvious. But her real mistake, even worse than her infidelity, her betrayal, was the way she actually believed, for about an hour, that someone could finally understand her. Identify with her. Help her. Just because he seemed to be going through the same thing she was. Just because he might have a bad marriage too. Just because he needed the warmth as much as she did.
That did not mean he could understand. And even if he could, he couldn't help her.
Because sleeping with her only created an even bigger problem: now she was a cheater. She had cheated on her husband, she had cheated on her children, and she had just proven to herself beyond doubt that they weren't enough for her. Her closest family, her own flesh and blood, were not good enough. They did not make her happy. She hated herself for it. Even more than she hated her life. Even more than she hated herself for not loving Ron the way she'd vowed to, the way she so desperately wanted to. Even more than she hated herself for lying to him every single day, lying to her children, lying to Harry and Ginny, lying to her co-workers. Lying to everyone.
And Draco Malfoy couldn't help her with that.
No one could.
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I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all.
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Author's Note: Hi everyone, finally a Dramione story!! This somehow jumped into my mind tonight. I hope it's good. It's meant to be a one-shot (my first ever Dramione one-shot), but I might change my mind if I can think how to continue it.
So... love it? Hate it? Comments? Suggestions?