I'm stuck on the next chapter of A Friendly Wager, so this is to get my mind on something different. I'd love your feedback on this. Just know that it's meant to be very vague, no specifics. Ages, times, dates, and things of that nature are irrelevant in this. I was prompted to write a one shot based on the word 'appear', so this would be the product.
Disclaimer: I own nothing you may recognize.
Some people were meant to fall in love with each other,
but not to be together.
-unknown
Appear.
He seemed to do that often. Whenever he was around, her entire body would tense and she'd berate herself for feeling the way she did- it was improper.
She was a married woman.
He was a married man.
They each had children who played at the same park.
There was nothing she could do. She had tied her soul to her best friend years ago, and on top of that, she loved him. Ron was the best husband and father a woman could ask for, but as the years went by, their happiness almost seemed forced. He did whatever he could to keep her happy- he even sang her a song once, though he'd sounded like a hippogriff in labor- and it made her smile to think that she meant that much to someone. She, Hermione Weasley, was Ron's entire world.
But she couldn't stop the feelings from settling in her stomach and bursting to the surface whenever Draco Malfoy was around her. She felt like an adulterer, having lustful thoughts for a man other than her husband, and she often could not look Ron in eyes after coming home from the park. She would draw a bath, sit in the water until it went stone cold, and wonder why the universe had made her life so complicated. Every time she had that thought, she would get up and take her daughter to the park.
The laughter of the children and the songs of the birds gave her a renewed sense of hope- maybe the feelings would pass. It had to be normal. She would never, ever leave her husband; if not for her own sake, for her daughter's. Rose deserved to have both parents in her life; she always deserved to grow up around happiness. And currently, Hermione was feeling it gradually slipping away, as if it were water sliding through her fingers.
And then there were the bad days, like when he would sit next to her at the park, on the same bench.
She could smell the mint and aftershave on him, and could tell that he had aged well. His son would glue himself to the swings, where her daughter was, and the two would play together. They would each smile at their children and sit quietly. Sometimes they spoke, but it was never more than a strained hello or an awkward how are you?
Still, she thrived off of those few words-; she did not blush or give any sign that she enjoyed his mere presence, but when her daughter would demand to go show her daddy what kind of rocks she had found, she found herself not wanting to leave.
"Mummy!" Her daughter would say, over and over.
She would wave nervously at Draco and picked her daughter up, taking her home and pretending everything was normal- like she wasn't pining after a man who was obviously taken.
When Ron kissed her, she would respond eagerly. She didn't want anything to change in their relationship, just like she desperately did not want to feel anything for Draco Malfoy. When Ron would make love to her, she would cry afterwords because she felt like an emotional wreck. They hardly even told each other I love you anymore, and now he was wanting another child.
How could she give him another baby- the ultimate gift- when she was doing something so wrong behind his back? Although she never pursued Draco, she still thought about it, and in her book, that was as good as doing the action.
The strange thing was, though, she would put herself in these situations.
She felt almost masochistic.
If her daughter wanted to go outside, she would take her to the park she knew Draco went to. If she needed fresh air she would sit on their bench, half expecting him to just appear and sit next to her. If her daughter was fussy, she would sit on that bench and rock her to sleep, hoping and praying that she would get her life straightened out soon.
She had everything she could ever want. A great job, a husband who would do anything for her, a house to call her own, and daughter whom she would lay her life down for. Yet, she reasoned, she was just so selfish that she wanted to kiss him one good time.
Would kissing Draco finally make the feelings go away? Would it make them worse? Would it end her marriage, and possibly his own? She just wanted to be selfish for a few seconds and pretend like she had no responsibilities. But then Rose would demand her attention or Ron would need something done and she'd have to be an adult for the time being.
The last time she saw him for seven years, until that fateful day on platform 9 3/4 where she would say goodbye to her daughter, would be devastating.
With her daughter in her arms, she sat on the park bench and sang softly to her, rocking back and forth. Rose stuck her thumb in her mouth and fell asleep, clutching her mother's neck, as if it were the safest please in the world. Hermione sat and waited for something- anything- to happen.
He came in, his own son in his arms, and sat down next to her. With sleeping children in their arms, they stared at the setting sun and pretended the other wasn't there for a moment, just so they could escape the demand of reality and have a small, untainted moment of peace. The conversation that ensued would be their first civil one, and their last.
"Why are you always here?" He wondered.
"I don't know." She had no idea why she kept coming back, or what she expected. She should've been home with her husband.
"I don't understand you." He shook his head and shifted the small blond boy in his lap. "You sit here by yourself and watch for hours. I see you doings and honestly, you don't look very happy. Why not?"
"Life isn't always about being happy." Her statement rang true for both of them. "I'm afraid I haven't been truly happy for a long while."
Silence.
He had the strong urge to take hold of her hand and comfort her, but knew that would lead nowhere. Although he thought she was undeniably beautiful and amazingly intelligent, he had a wife. He made a promise to her and was not going to potentially break it by giving in to his desires and touching the woman who gave him such strange feelings. This would have to be their last time together.
"How are you doing with... life?" She asked him.
"We're moving." He blurted it out, internally cursing himself for being so forward.
He saw her eyes widen a fraction before her expression turned unreadable.
"W-Where?"
"Far away from here." He sighed, instinctively holding his son closer. "And hopefully, we won't be coming back any time soon."
"When are you leaving?"
"Tonight."
She didn't know what to say. She had no right to feel saddened by this piece of news, but she was. Hell, they weren't even friends. They didn't talk to each other and knew nothing about each other, yet Hermione felt like she knew him. Like, really knew him. And she didn't want to see him go and felt entirely selfish that she wasn't even thinking about her daughter.
"What about Rose and Scorpius? They're friends." She hadn't meant for it to come out as desperate as it did.
"They're only four. I doubt they'll even remember each other by the time they can go on play dates."
She couldn't doubt that he was right. He was using logic- thinking like a responsible parent. He was doing what was best for his son.
As he got up to leave, she found herself standing up too, a sentence that had been clawing at her since she sat down rushing out.
"Is this goodbye?"
He turned to her and for a moment, it seemed like he was tempted to stay. And he was. He wanted to hug her and tell her that life would get better, but he didn't. He gave her the most apologetic look he could muster.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, then turned and walked away.
And she knew exactly what he was sorry for.
Everything.
As she watched him walk out of that park- out of her life- she couldn't help but clench her fist in anger. She barely contained the scream that threatened to make an appearance, but tried to calm herself, so as not to wake her daughter. But damn it, he couldn't just do that! He couldn't just charm her like he did and then disappear!
She just wanted to jump his bones one good time. It wasn't that she wanted to run off into the sunset with him... she just thought he was charming and handsome. And he gave her these terribly inconvenient feelings of warmth and part of her was glad that he was leaving, but honestly, she would miss not having those feelings. It didn't make any sense and she should have been happy with what she had, and she hated that she wasn't. In all honestly, she didn't know what she would have done had she kissed Draco, because it was such an idiotic idea. She knew it was wrong to want to grab him by the collar and beg him not to leave. She didn't why she felt that way.
She wanted to be completely and totally devoted to Ron, but part of her just wasn't there. She feared it never would be. And she knew bloody well that she wasn't allowed- even involuntarily- to give that piece to Draco. She couldn't, and she wouldn't.
Her body had other ideas, though. Logic told her that there would be zero chance of a good ending if she had kissed him, but her body just wanted to forget that and act upon a physical desire.
Unknowingly, she had already walked to the other exit of the park. Though everything within her said to walk away, she turned around and looked back, just barely catching the outline of his body before he faded into the world. That was it. It was done. She carried on and pretended that he didn't exist, forcing herself not to give him a single thought.
Because, after all, he was already gone.
"Have you got your shoes?"
"Yes, Mum."
"Jumper?"
"I'm wearing it, Mum."
She smiled at her daughter and pulled her close, hugging her with all her might. Rose was gong off to school, where she would grow and- eventually- not need her anymore. Hermione knew it was a vital part of life, but she didn't want to see her daughter go. But, she had Hugo for another five years before he left, too.
"I love you." Rose whispered.
"I love you more." Hermione whispered back.
They let go of each other and Ron swooped in, lifting his daughter off of the ground and twirling her around, making her laugh in delight. They said their goodbyes and Rose got on the train with her cousins, reminding Hermione a lot of herself and her two best friends. This would be good for Rose, she assured herself. She was going to be all right.
The train gave a loud, familiar sounding noise that signaled its departure. The children inside crowded around the windows, searching the crowd for their parents and waving frantically when they were seen. Rose lifted her hand and gave her parents a small wave, mouthing 'I'll be okay' to her mother. A minute later, the train was gone, as if it were never there in the first place.
"Ready to go?" Ron asked her.
"Yeah," She nodded. She took her son's hand and walked through the crowd, stopping when she spotted a man and his wife in the crowd. That feeling- that strange, improper feeling- suddenly came back to her and nested in the bottom of her stomach, making her gasp for air in surprise.
He stood there, almost exactly the same as he was seven years ago, staring at her. His arm was around his wife's waist, but she was oblivious to his staring. Ron saw and developed a scowl, picking Hugo up and pulling his wife to his side. Draco and Astoria walked toward them, and when they finally closed that short distance, Hermione was speechless. The feelings had finally gone away, and now here he was, bringing them back.
"Hermione," Draco said, giving Ron a small glance, mostly focusing on her. "Ron."
"Malfoy." Ron sneered.
In that moment, she'd never wanted to hit her husband so hard in her life.
"Why don't you go take Hugo to the bathroom, honey?" She mumbled to her husband. Ron immediately started to protest, but stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. He nodded, giving Draco a warning glare, and walking off with his son in his arms.
"I think I see Pansy over there," Astoria said. "I'll be back in a minute." She kissed her husband on the cheek and skittered away, leaving Hermione and Draco alone for the first time since the day he left.
They stared at each other and made their way to an empty bench, just sitting. They said nothing- they didn't need to- and did not dare to break the silence. He still wanted to hold her and she still wanted to kiss him, but they knew it would never happen. They each had too much to lose.
"How... How are things?" She asked him, looking down at her hands in her lap. "How is Scorpius?"
"He's good." He answered, staring at his own hands. "Things are good."
She nodded and fell silent, but turned her head to find him staring at her. It was one of those fleeting glances that made you want to sit in a dark room and cry your eyes out. They each regretted feeling the way they did, and even regretted not acting on it. They would never know what could have happened. They loved their spouses and didn't want to break their vows, but being so close to each other made their minds wander.
No, she was already happy. She had everything. She didn't need him and she didn't need these bloody feelings assaulting her all over again. There was just so much about the situation that made her want to pull her hair out. She was married, had children, fought in a war, and had a crush on her childhood bully who happened to be an ex-Death Eater. Her life was like a bad episode of a daytime soap opera.
And he was happy, too. He had a great wife, an amazing son, a stable job, and enough money to do anything he wanted. Yet, he wanted her, too. He would never, ever stop loving his wife... but damn it, this woman made him feel crazy! He wanted to kiss her and hold her and do things with her that he should only do with his wife, with her. He didn't know her at all and didn't care. He should have just kissed her seven years ago when he had the chance; now, he didn't. He knew just bloody fine that it would never happen, and he would have to walk away all over again. He just didn't want to.
All too soon, their spouses came to collect them. They got off of the bench and bid each other farewell, their stare holding for longer than they meant. Yet, without speaking, each of them got the message. As they looked in each others eyes, about to leave for the second time, a single thought crossed their minds. It was one of finality, yet painful in its truth.
It was for the best.
They walked away from each other and would not meet again for another seven years, when their children graduated. Even then, their meeting was strained. They never broke their promises to their spouses, never gave those strange feelings another thought, until they were old and widowed. Her husband had died and so had his wife, and they each lived with their children.
Hermione's bedroom had a window that overlooked the ocean, and she often liked to sit beside it, her joints sore from age.
She'd had a good life. She was pushing 200 years old; she was older than she thought she would live to be. She'd had so much time to learn the ways of life, but not enough to learn from every single mistake she'd made. There was one thing she'd done, though, that she couldn't tell if it was a mistake or not.
She'd never kissed Draco in their youth. She'd lived with a constant 'what if I had done it?' thought in the back of her head, gnawing at her mind. She knew it was the right choice- she always remained true to her husband- but she'd always had a funny feeling about him. She felt like, no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to completely get Draco out of her heard. There would always be something.
But she was almost finished with life, and the thoughts didn't matter anymore. She would never get the chance to kiss him and she was okay with that, because things were as they should have been. They were not meant to be together- were not meant to share a single kiss- and they'd both come to realize that. All those years of constant wondering, every day of feeling guilty about their feelings... they didn't matter.
Everything turned out all right for both of them.
It truly was for the best.
A/N: Okay, I can practically see a few flames for this because it doesn't make much sense, but I wanted to write it because my great-grandmother had a similar experience. She's been married for 3 years when she met a boy named John, whom she grew to like. They went their separate ways and she always wondered what would have happened. So... I put that here. If you feel the need to flame, sign in so I can reply. Thank you all for reading, and I promise, I'll be updating A Friendly Wager soon. -Nikki a.k.a.- Twipotterfreak28