Summary: Draco sits by the perfumed fire and thinks of the agony he endured for seven long years... loving her, and never being able to have her. It's an insight into a broken Slytherin's heart... because when the clock strikes midnight, and the jasmine scent rises from the flames, that's when the pain begins to throb.
Disclaimer: All the characters belong to J.K Rowling, but everything you don't recognize, including the pairing… is MINE! ahem!
The very sentimental song I am using, which is "Incomplete" belongs to Sisqo.
Author's Note: This is a pretty sentimental songfic, written while I was on a very strong sugar rush. (Too many whipped cream and chocolate beehives, I have to admit.)
This is dedicated to Raf, who pretty much made my first few years with him living hell... then made up for all the torment in just a few days. See ya in Australia, Paola!
A Dragon's Song
Midnight in the silent Slytherin common room found a lone figure on an armchair, staring moodily at the crackling flames. The shadows flickered along the cold, stone walls, yet he just slumped there, surrounded by silky green velvet. The suits of armor stood silent witness as he gripped the arms of the chair tightly, fighting the wave of emotions which always welled up in him… everytime *she* came into his mind.
Draco Malfoy tossed a handful of incense at the green fire, lay back in his chair, and tried very hard to forget her.
Her… Hermione Granger.
Her… A Gryffindor. A know-it-all. Potter and Weasley's best friend, for hell's sake. A Mudblood.
In Draco Malfoy's mind, this should all have added up to another mortal enemy.
Yet, in his heart, it equaled Hermione. That one, beautiful, unattainable girl.
*Bright lights, fancy restaurants
Everything in this world that a man could want*
Yes, Draco Malfoy was rich. He was literally rolling in Galleons. He had an expansive home, and he was heir to one of the greatest fortunes in the wizarding world. He had top-of-the-line brooms, he could afford the whole Honeydukes…
*Got a bank account bigger than the law should allow*
However, there was only one individual he wanted… no, *loved.*
And she just happened to be the only one he could never reach.
Various girls would send him owls every morning, pleading for a date. They followed him around school, Mudbloods and pure-bloods alike. Pansy was becoming incredibly smug, and incredibly unbearable.
"But she was pretty, I must admit." thought Draco. "I wouldn't have bothered talking to her if she looked like Millicent Bulstrode." He smiled faintly, and sank back into his stupor.
*Pretty faces from the covers of the magazines
From their covers to my covers wanna lay with me*
"Yeah, I wouldn't even have looked twice in her direction." Draco breathed in the balmy jasmine perfume surrounding him, thinking of how he had made his mark in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
It was already his trademark. Snooty, arrogant, sharp-tongued… just plain mean.
And he enjoyed it. He loved every moment of it. The pained scowl on Potter's face. The way Weasley's face would blend into that hideous carroty hair of his…
But whenever he insulted Hermione…
The hurt expression he sees on her face was almost enough for him to back down from his throne in the Slytherin house. He would have gladly given all this up… for one chance to hold her, to show her that Draco Malfoy wasn't all bad. That Draco Malfoy wasn't evil.
That Draco Malfoy loved her.
That day she had slapped him… four long years ago, and it still hurt.
Definitely not on his cheek… no, that mark faded long, long ago.
But the wound in his heart would stay there forever, until he came out of his shell, and confessed his true feelings.
*Fame and fortune still can't find
Just a grown man running out of time*
Draco leaned forward and covered his face in his slim fingers, shutting out the view of the darkened common room. And trying to shut out the pain.
*Even though it seems I have everything
I don't wanna be a lonely fool
All of the women, all the expensive cars
And all of the money
Don't amount to you*
She completed him. If only she gave him a chance.
"I've seen the way she acts around Potter and Weasley. She's so… *happy.*. That's something I would never be… never. Until she loves me… the way I'm loving her."
One lonely Slytherin seventh-year wrapped his arms around himself, trying to fill himself with the kind of warmth that the perfumed, sparkling fire could, in no way, give him.
He needed that kind of emotion you perceive when the one you love gives you a special smile, holds you close, or simply murmurs a kind word into your ear.
But he knew that the only woman he loved will never be able to do any of those. She was too far away… encased in silver crystal, and he, the powerful, wealthy son of Lucius Malfoy, could never reach her…
He had the rest of his life, though. A terrifically wealthy father, a mother who spoils him like hell, a vast inheritance, a reputation (albeit not a very good one), pretty girls and power…
What did he need that Mudblood for? She was nothing to him… but…
She was everything at the same time.
*I can make believe I have everything
Though I can't pretend that I don't see
That without you girl,
My life is incomplete.*
Hermione could be the missing piece in the puzzle that was his mangled life.
She could be his laughter, his enchantment… his love.
"How can Potter be so blind?" Draco hissed, clenching his fists. "The most magnificent woman in the entire world has been right in front of his scarred, bespectacled face since the beginning of school… and all he thinks of her is a friend?!"
*Your perfume, your sexy lingerie
I remember everything like it was yesterday*
Everything. The way she smiled, her cleverness… the way she looked every Yule Ball…
"Amazing how blind Potter is. His Muggles must have beaten him so blindly he got irreversible myopia. *How* could he *not* see Hermione Granger? In all her beauty?"
he whispered bitterly, turning his face to the dying fire.
"How could he not realize…
… that she had loved him since the first day of school? …"
*A Thursday, you told me you had fallen in love
I wasn't sure that I was.*
Draco fell back into the velvety chair, breathing hard with repressed anger and love.
"How could he?
How could *she?*"
Hermione never told Draco she loved Harry. She wouldn't even go near him at all.
But Draco wasn't blind.
He saw the way she laughed at his jokes, the way she cheered for Harry at Quidditch…
"Hermione doesn't even like Quidditch that much. She only comes to watch Potter play."
He ran his hand through his silky hair, trying to brush away the thoughts of Hermione and Harry.
*It's been a year,
Winter, summer, spring and fall…
And being without you just ain't living
Just ain't nothing at all
If I could travel back in time,
I'd relive the days that you were mine*
It hadn't been a year, to tell the truth.
It had been *seven* years.
Seven anguished years, of passing her in the corridors, listening to her perpetually-correct answers in class… and knowing that he could never have her.
She was never his.
But if she was, by now, she would have utterly understood the meaning of true love.
Draco Malfoy wasn't heartless. In fact, totally capable of falling in love.
In fact, he *was* completely in love.
Completely, madly, desperately in love with Harry Potter's best friend.
Who was the only student in the whole female body in the entire Hogwarts who was incapable of loving him back.
*Even though it seems I have everything
I don't wanna be a lonely fool
All of the women, all the expensive cars
And all of the money
Don't amount to you*
*I can make believe I have everything
Though I can't pretend that I don't see
That without you girl,
My life is incomplete.*
"Why did I have to fall for her?
So many girls think I'm a god, and the center of their universe… and I just had to fall in love with the one who thinks I'm as insignificant as a dead flobberworm."
Draco watched the fire burn down, it's enchanted green flames cast in his stormy, troubled eyes.
*I just can't help loving you
But I loved you much too late.*
"Much, *much* too late." he repeated tonelessly to himself, glaring at the glowing embers in the hearth. "Too late, I guess."
He propped his chin up on his hand, murmuring useless words of comfort to himself.
*I'll give anything
And everything
Just to hear you say
That you'll stay…*
Draco twirled his wand around in his hand, wondering if he should light the fire once more.
He raised his left arm, and thought against it instead.
"She could have been mine. I wouldn't give a damn what house she was in… as long as she loved me. And only me." he gripped his wand tensely, sending out silver sparks, which shone intensely in the darkening room.
"And what am I? A poor, little rich boy. Surrounded in wealth and material possessions. Everything I want."
*Even though it seems I have everything*
"And *almost* everything I need." Draco's voice was now barely a whisper.
"Almost."
His wand fell to the floor.
"I still don't have love."
I don't wanna be a lonely fool
All of the women, all the expensive cars
And all of the money
Don't amount to you*
*I can make believe I have everything
Though I can't pretend that I don't see
That without you girl,
My life is incomplete.*
So he sat in the Slytherin common room, encircled by his wealth and power…
And he waited for the fire to die out.