"But once you knew a girl and named her Lover,

And danced with her in kitchens through the greenest summer.

But autumn came, she disappeared,

You can't remember where she said she was going to."
-Perfect Sonnet, Bright Eyes.


Draco has never known what exactly love is.

His parents went like most; they were cordial and harsh and uptight Purebloods. Home life for him wasn't a sweet, affectionate atmosphere.

In Hogwarts he had acted superior to everyone because he thought he was above them. (Of course, now he knows better, they are all the same now after the war.) He didn't have the time or patience for trivial matters such as live when there were more important things to be done, such as tease Harry and boss Crabbe and Goyle. (And really, Pansy was more annoying than anything.)

But now, after the war, when everything is painted in shades of gray and all that is left is destruction, he doesn't think he will find love.

He doesn't even know how to start looking.


He meets her purely by chance.

He's out, walking through Diagon Alley, when he bumps into her.

She's nothing extraordinary. In her Muggle t-shirt with jeans, and her pale blonde hair brushed back, she looks like the average teenager.

"Do I know you?" he asks, because these days, if there's one thing he doesn't have, it's a friend.

She stares at him. "Are you Draco Malfoy?"

He cringes as the passerby glare at him; obviously his name is not the most appreciated. "Yeah. And aren't you Daphne Greengrass?"

She cringes too, when he says her last name. "I'm just Daphne."

"Would you like to have some ice-cream with me?" Draco asks awkwardly.

She smiles; he must be doing something right. "Sure."

They eat together; he takes mint flavored and she takes strawberry.

It's a pleasant conversation. They don't talk about the war at all, and it's actually kind of refreshing for Draco not to be asked about how it feels to be a traitor.

He finds Daphne to be quite interesting. Her eyes are a striking green, but they seem cloudy, as if she's seen too much with them. Every time she smiles, it looks like her face muscles find the action odd - like she doesn't smile often.

He likes the way she twirls a strand of her pearly hair around her finger when she's thinking. It's cute.

They decide to meet again.


And soon enough, their weekly meet-ups turn to daily, and them walking into the parlor is such a usual occurrence that Florean already has their scoops of ice-cream ready.

Draco doesn't know when it happened, but now he knows that he can't go on without Daphne. She's the one thing that keeps him going now.

Draco doesn't mind having Daphne be his everything.


A day later he kisses her, and he wonders if the euphoria running through his veins is love.


Draco decides that summer is a beautiful time.

Daphne moves in with him; he has a new, cozy flat now, away from the prying fingers of their parents.

It becomes their own little castle, in their fantasy of true love and forevers.


The leaves are bright green and she's wearing a fabulous violet sundress when he tells her he loves her.

He feels so perfect when she's there - like nothing else matters. If that isn't love, Draco doesn't know what is.

They're sitting on a picnic blanket outside, and it's just the two of them. Draco feels giddy and unstoppable and totally in love.

She brushes her flapping hair away from her face, laughing like a wind-chime. She is absolutely beautiful.

"Daphne, I love you." The words tumble out of his mouth before he realizes it.

She stares at him a little oddly, as if he said something weird. His heart begins to pound in his ears and he knows he will break if she rejects him now, when he is far too in to ever fall out of love with her.

"I guess I love you too," she says, a little uncertain.

Draco leans in to kiss her and the world stops spinning.


"Daphne, I'm home!" Draco burst through the door, holding a bouquet of violet roses to celebrate their two-month anniversary.

There is no answer. He supposes she didn't hear him, so he tries again.

No response.

Now he is getting a little worried. He creeps towards their bedroom, and is about to open the door when he hears something.

He presses his ear to the door. It comes again, this time louder.

It's the sound of Daphne moaning.

Quickly, he throws open the door, only to find his worst fears confirmed. Daphne is sitting in the lap of another man, with her shirt off and her fingers tangled in his hair.

All three of them are still for a moment.

"Draco-" Daphne begins.

"Get the fuck out of my house," Draco growls at the man. He follows orders, slipping his shirt back on and leaving.

"Daphne, do you want to explain this?" Draco asks in a deathly calm voice. He sounds threatening, but on the inside, his heart is breaking.

He thought she loved him.

"Draco, honestly, it was a mistake, I was drunk and this guy was taking advantage of me-"

The excuses spill out of her mouth. He wants to believe her.

"Please forgive me."

He can't refuse her, so he wraps his arms around her and allows her to cry into his shirt.

The roses lay forgotten on the ground.


Things begin to fall apart after that.


He tries to ignore the signs, he really does.

He picks up the pantyhose on the floor, refusing to acknowledge what that means she is doing while he is out.

He lets it go that every night, her breath smells of liquor. He doesn't stop her from spending more time at the bar, without him.

They are drifting apart. Draco knows it, but doesn't know how to stop it.


"Draco, I'm going out," she calls.

"Where? To the bar?" he answers. She nods.

"How about you spend tonight with me?" he asks.

She looks heartbroken. "Okay."

Draco pretends not to notice how much she clearly wants to leave. Quickly, he steps up and captures her lips, trying to sweep her off her feet like he used to.

She responds unenthusiastically. He realizes that she must be bored of him.

He has to be more fun, to lure her in.

He becomes more aggressive, pushing her to the wall. Now she responds enthusiastically, her hands flying.

Later, as he lies in bed next to her, their breathing heavy with exhaustion, he wonders how they have come to this.


"Draco," Daphne begins. "I can't do this anymore."

Draco's heart stops beating.

"I thought you loved me."

"I thought I did too, before I met Jack. He's the bartender, the guy you kicked out."

Draco is ready to cry. "Please tell me you're not serious. Please." He pleads with her, but she shows no sympathy. "But why, Daphne?"

"You're too possessive of me. You say you love me, but I need more freedom. I'm not a caged bird with clipped wings." Daphne looks at him with pity. "I'm a girl, Draco. I need to have fun. Jack lets me do what I want, and he has a lot less baggage than you."

She walks away and Draco wonders if she can hear the sound of his heart breaking.

It's pretty loud to him.


The morning after, he finds a note saying that she had eloped with Jack the bartender overnight. It wished him well.

"Don't come back!" he shouts out the window.

He doesn't mean it.


Summer comes to a close the next day as the autumn chill begins to nip at him.

The leaves are falling like a tragic love story; Draco's never really liked autumn.

Watching the trees lose their leaves makes him remember all the things he has lost.


He knows what love is now; he likes to think of it as vivid summer days, flashes of skin, and bursts of violet.

But, he realizes bitterly, not knowing love is definitely better than having it, and letting it slip through your fingers.


Years later, he is an old man and lives alone in a cold flat, wondering where his promised eternity had gone.


A/N: I made Daphne sound like a bitch.

Done for:

Quidditch League Competition - Round 2

Fanon Pairings Competition - Draco/Daphne using castle, "don't come back!", blanket, and violet.

Pairing Diversity Boot Camp - Prompt #4: Caramelised.

HP Potions Competition - Dragon Poison (Write about Draco.)