Today was a special day for Draco Malfoy.
So far, Mother Nature had been good to him. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the flowers were blooming. If only things could be as perfect as this, Draco thought, as he drummed his fingers on the windowsill, overlooking the vast Malfoy gardens.
After his brief experience as a teenage death eater and witnessing his not-so-beloved parents being slaughtered by Voldemort, Draco had been able to come out of his predicament and was determined to turn a new leaf. Impressively, he has now become one of the most successful business wizards in all of history. He had also regained his fine reputation amongst the people, for he had switched sides during the war, and become a spy for the Order following that terrible incident.
No, don't think about it, he thought.
A sudden rap on the door drew him out of his daze.
"Mr. Malfoy, I have your dry-cleaned tuxedo ready, the orange marigold flowers, and the picture frame," announced Cayden, one of his loyal, muggle butlers.
"Ah yes, thank you," said Draco, albeit worriedly, for he was just reminded of his special date, today.
Let's just say that he was a bit… nervous.
Nonetheless, Draco managed to smile at the memory of how he got rid of all his house elves just because "she" didn't agree with the idea of enslaving them.
Draco Malfoy may be the richest, most handsome, and most powerful wizard alive, but he had one weakness. That weakness was his deep and fervent love for a certain girl.
A muggleborn, to be exact.
A muggleborn witch named Hermione Jean Granger.
Yes, the Hermione Granger. Muggleborn, smartest witch of her age, and most importantly, bushy-haired, know-it-all, Hermione Granger. The girl who Draco himself had personally called a mudblood in Second Year. The very girl who beat him in all of the classes, save for Potions, and had subsequently provoked his father to beat him every summer due to immense shame of learning that his son was being bested by a muggleborn witch.
It had all began in Third Year…
"Nothin' we can do no more… Buckbeak's ben' decided ta be killed…" Hagrid uttered, blowing snot into his handkerchief, as he turned and trudged back to his cabin.
The Golden Trio was silent, they wanted to help, but they knew it was all hopeless.
"Did you see him blubber like that?! Hah! What kind of teacher is he?!" shouted some boy behind the stairs.
The Golden Trio immediately turned to see who it was.
"Wait till father hears that our teacher is a blubbering idiot," Malfoy remarked, making his two flanks burst into laughter.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione immediately charged forward in anger, but Hermione got there before the both of them.
SMACK!
Hermione Granger had just slapped Draco Malfoy in the face.
"You leave him alone, Malfoy!" she shouted at him.
Malfoy was beyond shocked. A mudblood had just slapped him.
As the two boys dragged Hermione away from him, Draco was left with an intense tingling feeling at the side of his cheek where Hermione had slapped him just moments ago.
Maybe it was the after effects of a slap, or maybe… it was something else.
Something… different.
Draco didn't understand what got to him that night. Maybe he was crazy after all. Maybe he was a psychotic man and was into abusive relationships.
One thing he understood after that night was that he craved for her touch.
But he knew he would never get it, because Hermione would never like him back.
Plus, his parents would kill him if they knew he was in love with a mudblood.
Almost every hour of his life, Draco couldn't stop thinking about her. He was slowly getting crazier and crazier in his desperate need to receive her attention and affection.
He even resorted to stalking her.
This was probably the tenth time he stalked her in the library.
She was sitting by the window, looking so beautiful and serene that it was hard not to stare. She was reading a book, a bit too eagerly and intensely he might say. He even felt a bit jealous at the book, how it could draw out so much intense passion out of her… while he could only make her annoyed.
Draco was so captivated by her beauty that he didn't realize that he dropped the books he was holding. It startled Hermione, who immediately looked up, and made eye contact with him.
Draco was a bit embarrassed that he had caught her staring, so he decided to walk away.
"Malfoy?" she called out, nervously.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
"Why are you always here now?"
He slowly turned to face her, a smirk adorning his lips.
"Notice much, Granger? I didn't know you were so into me," he teased, licking his lips.
A small frown crept onto her beautiful face.
After glaring at Draco for a while, Hermione resumed her reading, ignoring the incident that had happened between the two of them.
Draco accepted it as a cue to resume his stalking.
Draco couldn't help but remember the time when he saw her during the Yule Ball in Fourth Year. She had looked absolutely gorgeous that night.
Draco was forced to take Pansy as his date, since no other Slytherin girls had been a better choice.
If only he could have taken Hermione to the ball, then his life would have been complete…
Right then, he spotted a pretty girl walking down the grand stairs, in a periwinkle-blue dress. She was beautiful- he had to admit- with silky soft chocolate curls, twisted up into an elegant knot. In fact, she was the epitome of beauty.
Suddenly, he realized that it was Hermione. That beautiful goddess had been his Hermione.
Out of nowhere, Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker, wrapped a possessive arm around her slender waist.
Draco had never felt a more burning desire to Avada a person.
Yes, Draco Lucius Malfoy was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with a muggleborn witch named Hermione Jean Granger.
If somebody had told Draco when he was in First Year, that he would fall in love with a muggleborn, and more specifically Hermione Granger, he would have punched that sucker to space and suggested he be admitted into a mental hospital.
Everything would have been perfect, if only Hermione had loved him back.
Draco wanted to look good for the date. It was September 19th, 2005, her birthday.
He had gotten her a bouquet of orange marigold flowers and a newly framed picture of her.
He wanted everything to be perfect, for her.
He set off to the famous Italian restaurant in Diagon Alley, called, Solita-morto.
When he arrived, a waiter named Luci approached him and asked, "Table for?"
"Uh… two please," Draco replied, after awhile.
The waiter cocked an eyebrow, wondering why he took a while to answer. Draco smiled again, so the waiter obligingly led him to a secluded table by the window.
Draco was satisfied at the romantic placing, so he thanked the waiter.
Everything was perfect, until his thoughts drifted to that terrible incident.
Hermione and the rest of the Golden Trio had been captured and brought to his house. However, while her friends were in the dungeon, Bellatrix Lestrange dragged Hermione upstairs to be tortured, simply because she was a "mudblood".
Draco wanted it to end. He couldn't stand hearing her agonizing screams as his aunt scratched the word "mudblood" into her arm.
That was until Harry and Ron managed to escape the dungeons and intervene.
His aunt was hysterical, as she hauled Hermione up and held her silver knife to her throat.
"STOP OR SHE DIES! Drop your wands or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!" his aunt had screamed dementedly.
Harry refused, believing he could still save Hermione.
But he was wrong.
Draco faltered, as he took a seat on the table. He pulled out the framed picture of Hermione, from the paper bag that he carried, and set it in front of him, right at the place where Hermione was supposed to eat. He also pulled out the bouquet of orange marigold flowers, and set it in front of the frame.
After awhile, he looked up and whispered, "Happy Birthday Hermione…"
It has been seven years.
Seven years since Hermione was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange in the Malfoy Manor, during the small, yet bloody skirmish, that happened there.