Title:
Loss
Chapter Title: 1/1
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter,
Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley
Genres: Romance, Angst,
Humour
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Sexual References
Summary:
Draco is jealous of Fred Weasley.
The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves. -- William Penn
If Draco Malfoy was a betting man, which he was not – having learned by age sixteen that life liked to throw him curve balls – he would have bet at least half of his considerable fortune that he would never attend a Weasley wedding and sit on the Weasley side of the aisle. But less than two hours ago, there he had been, stuck to the side of his girlfriend, watching George Weasley marry the Johnson bint.
The ceremony itself had been only moderately painful. A bit too common for Draco's taste, but mercifully brief in duration. Now, however, he was trapped at what he feared was an endless reception. He'd let Hermione drag him around introducing him to her friends for the first hour. He had smiled and made nice and done his best to look like an attentive and caring boyfriend. During the second hour, he'd picked at an overdone slice of roast beef, while sitting at a table with several former Gryffindors. He did not bother to learn any of their names, since he had no intention of ever voluntarily spending another minute in their company.
Now, it was well into his third hour at the miserable event. He'd stood up with Hermione for a couple of dances before claiming to have a headache. He had hoped that his plight would encourage her to bid the happy couple a fond farewell, make her excuses to the Weasley matriarch and patriarch, and then return with him to her flat for some post-wedding shagging. Instead, she'd been claimed for several dances by the unmarried twin, and Draco had been left to nurse an inferior glass of champagne all by his lonesome.
As he glared across the dance floor where Hermione was laughing at something her partner was saying, who should plop down on either side of him, but Potty and the Weasel. The three of them had not become friends. They did not sit around listening to Quidditch together on the wireless. They certainly never offered each other advice on relationships, careers, or financial matters. Yet they had, for Hermione's sake, stopped deliberately antagonizing each other.
"You know, Malfoy," Harry began. "I'd keep a close eye on Fred. He's fancied Hermione for years."
"Yea, Ferret," Ron injected, "I think he was working up his nerve to ask her out when you walked into the picture."
Draco had no visible physical reaction to this news besides a narrowing of his eyes. "And, to what exactly do I owe this unsolicited counsel?"
Harry shrugged.
"For some strange reason, Hermione seems happy with you. Hell, she hasn't been this happy since she and I were dating," Ron informed him.
"Oh, I think she is happier now than when you two were dating," Harry interrupted, remembering just how miserable Ron's and Hermione's constant bickering about their relationship had made him.
Draco snorted.
"Oi, Harry, shove it," Ron pouted, before turning back to Draco. "The point is, Malfoy, we like it when Hermione is happy."
"Fred is an unknown quantity," Harry started to explain.
"No he isn't," Ron interjected. "He's a known quantity – an annoying git of a quantity."
Rolling his eyes, Harry continued, "Fred with Hermione would be an unknown quantity. Who knows whether or not they would succeed as couple? She could be miserable. At least with you, we know she is reasonably satisfied."
"So don't bollocks it up," Ron hissed at him, rising from the table as Fred and Hermione approached. He intercepted them, whispered something in Hermione's ear, before leading Fred away toward the drink table.
Harry excused himself as Hermione sat down in Ron's vacated seat. "How are you feeling?" she asked, looking concerned.
Draco examined her closely. He'd asked her out on a whim several months ago, figuring it would be a lark to go out on a date his old school nemesis. He'd grown rather bored of the silly girls who kept trying to capture his attention with their physical 'gifts', but who did not have the brains to keep him interested beyond a shag or two. Whatever else an evening with Hermione Granger would be, Draco was certain that it would be intellectually stimulating. He'd been correct. He had sincerely enjoyed their dinner conversation and enjoyed even more their post-dinner snog. Since then, things had progressed relatively naturally and now almost all of their friends and family saw them as a couple.
Draco realized, with a start, that he thought of them as a couple too. She was the first thing he thought about in the morning and his last conscious thought at night. He never made plans for his weekends without consulting her and tended to get moody if she was too busy to see him at least a couple of times a week. Draco was falling for Hermione Granger and he'd be damned if he let Fred – fucking – Weasley bugger it up. Grabbing Hermione's hand, he gave it a squeeze. "I want to go back to your flat."
"You are feeling worse," she fretted, biting her lip in a way that never failed to drive him crazy.
"I am feeling better, Granger. That is why I want to take you home and shag until you can't walk straight tomorrow."
Hermione blushed prettily at his words. "I'll go get my wrap," she smiled, leaning in to give him a light kiss on the lips.
-0-0-0-
Two weeks later, Draco Apparated into Hermione's flat to find her and Fred Weasley sitting at the kitchen table examining a pile of parchments. He frowned at the domestic picture they made, both dressed casually, their heads close together.
She smiled up at him, when he cleared his throat. "Draco, you won't believe the amazing idea Fred has developed for a new Wheezes product. It is absolutely extraordinary magic. We've spent the last hour going over possible side-affects of mixing unicorn tears with dragon's blood."
He gave her a barely visible nod. "We have reservations at the Ledbury in ten minutes."
"Oh, blast! Give me five minutes to throw on a dress and do something with my hair and I'll be ready to go," she exclaimed rising from her chair. "Sorry, Fred, can we finish this some other time?"
"Of course," he smiled at her as she hurried out of the room.
Fred rose and began to gather his papers together. "Sorry about that, mate. I didn't realize it had gotten so late. Time always flies by when I'm discussing experimental magic with Hermione. Her enthusiasm is so contagious."
"Indeed," Draco drawled slowly, not wanting to encourage any sort of conversation with the red-head.
Fred raised a surprised eyebrow, but gave no other indication that he found Draco's lack of response rude. "Well, have a good time tonight. Tell Hermione I'll Floo her tomorrow."
Draco nodded again, unable to unclench his teeth until Weasley had Disapparated.
Everything had rapidly gone downhill after that. Draco and Hermione had gotten to the restaurant fifteen minutes late and been seated right next to the kitchen. Instead of just ignoring it, the blond had decided to dredge up one of his father's old lectures on the importance of promptness. Hermione had failed, however, to act properly chastised, so Draco had then launched into a diatribe about how much better she looked when she actually took some time on her appearance.
It had taken her only about five minutes to get fed up with his behaviour and stomp out of the restaurant.
It had taken two days for Draco to apologize. It probably would have taken longer, had Harry not Owled him to ask if he was really planning on fucking up his relationship over one bad date.
Hermione had forgiven him, but as penance, he had to attend Sunday brunch at the Burrow. He was on his best behaviour. He pretended to be interested in Arthur Weasley's collection of Muggle garbage, he complimented Molly Weasley on her garden, he did not look down Fleur Weasley's top once, despite the fact that breasts were close to tumbling out of her tank and into the lap of whichever man she was standing nearest to at the time. He was a model guest and a considerate boyfriend, right up until the time that the meal was served.
Draco had found himself seated between Ron and Hermione, across the table from Harry, Ginny, and Fred. The conversation at first had been fairly general, with the six of them discussing Ministry politics, the upcoming Quidditch season, and the deteriorating state of the Muggle economy. Eventually, Ginny, Ron and Harry began to question Draco about whether or not someone like Daphne Greengrass could be serious about someone like Dean Thomas, while Fred and Hermione discussed some of his latest magical experiments.
Although Draco attempted to uphold his end of the conversation about the Greengrass-Thomas relationship, a good portion of his brain was focused on listening to the conversation between Fred and Hermione. He could not see what his brown-eyed girlfriend found so fascinating about the unmarried twin. He was loud, he was effusive, he was rarely serious, he looked like some sort of reject from a Ron Howard Look-a-Like Competition, and he discussed the most inane of subjects. Nevertheless, Hermione seemed content to sit across from Fred and laugh at his ridiculous prattle.
After listening for ten minutes to Hermione marvel about Fred's magical brilliance, Draco lost it. "Merlin, Hermione, he just developed a new practical joke. The way you are carrying on, you'd think he had developed the cure for Dragon Pox!"
All of those within hearing distance turned to stare at him.
"I know exactly what he's done, Draco. I think the development of new magic is mesmerizing, no matter for what purpose it is ultimately used."
"Then you are too easily impressed," he snarked.
"Obviously, given who I've been dating for the last several months," she shot back, hotly.
"Oi, now!" Ron broke in. "Let's not say anything you're going to regret later."
Draco ignored the red-head's advice. "If you are so impressed with Weasley's brilliance, perhaps you should be dating him!" he told his outraged girlfriend.
"Well, I know who I won't be dating much longer if his attitude and lack of tact doesn't significantly change," Hermione shouted, pushing back her chair and marching into the Burrow.
The blond followed her into the Weasley's kitchen, grabbing her arm before she could jump into the Floo. "Isn't it rude to leave without saying goodbye?"
"Molly will forgive me," Hermione hissed, trying to break free of him.
"What about me? Aren't you curious whether or not I will forgive you?" Draco snarled.
"I haven't done anything that needs to be forgiven, Malfoy. I don't know what has come over you these last couple of days, but lately you've been acting like the same snot-faced malcontent you were back at Hogwarts."
Although Hermione's words struck Draco with their honesty, at the same time, he could not push away his anger at her obvious enjoyment of Fred Weasley's company. "Since when did you become interested in pranks and stunts, or is it just engaging red-heads that interest you?"
"You aren't seriously jealous of Fred?" she asked in astonishment.
Draco did not respond.
"Idiot," she murmured, stepping close him, wrapping her arms around his waist, and attempting to break down his defences. "I want to be with you. You are the only man in which I'm interested."
He released a deep breath, before cupping her cheek. "I'm sorry."
"Let's go back to my flat. I don't' feel like brunch anymore."
"Did I ruin it?" he asked, sincerely apologetic for making such a scene.
"No," she replied with a small shake of her head. "I just feel like demonstrating exactly how interested I am in you."
"I really must misbehave more often," he grinned.
"Don't you dare, Draco Malfoy! This is your one free pass. After this, you will be expected to behave like a normal and well-adjusted human being when surrounded by my friends."
Grabbing her hand and pulling her into the Floo, he promised, "For you, my dear, Granger, I will strive to do my best."
-0-0-0-
He had not seen her for five days. She had actually Owled him and cancelled their last two dates. Draco was annoyed. Malfoys did not typically need to go begging for company. He was also suspicious. Just what the fuck was Hermione doing with her evenings that she didn't have time to see him?
He grabbed a book he was reading about some Muggle war that had supposedly lasted for a hundred years and Apparated to her flat.
She didn't come home until after mid-night. "Draco?" she asked uncertainly, surprised to see him sprawled out on her sofa.
He sat up and just stared at her. She was in jeans and a long-sleeved jumper. Her hair had been pulled back into a messy pony tail. She had her work bag slung over her shoulders and dark circles under her eyes. She didn't look like she'd been out shagging someone else, but since she wasn't wearing her robe; it probably wasn't just a late night at the office either.
"Where have you been?" he asked, in a clipped tone.
"Didn't you get my owl?" she asked, not moving.
He nodded. "But the note just said was that you were busy tonight, no details and no explanation. It was almost an exact replica of the one you sent three nights ago."
"I didn't realize you would want more explanation," she smiled, putting down her bag and coming to sit by him. "You are usually in more of a 'Get to the point, Granger.' type of mood."
He stared at her and she didn't blush, didn't look like she was trying to hide anything. He leaned in a kissed her jaw. "I've missed you."
She released a small sigh. "Stay the night?"
Draco leaned back on the couch and pulled her on top of him. "Merlin, you come up with the most brilliant ideas."
Upon waking the next morning, he snuggled into Hermione's side, nuzzling her neck until she woke. "Spend the day with me," he demanded.
"I can't," she murmured through her yawn. "Fred and I have plans to collaborate the entire day in his workshop on a couple of potions."
Draco stiffened next to her. "Is that what you've been doing with your nights, collaborating with Fred Weasley?"
His icy tone caused Hermione to turn and look into his face. "Yes. Is that a problem?"
"Yes, it is a problem that my girlfriend would rather spend her evenings with another man instead of me."
"It's work, Draco. It has nothing to do with my feelings for you."
"Bollocks," he barked, sitting up. "I refuse to stand idly by why you play potions apprentice with Weasley. I will not be another man's backup. You are going to need to decide, Granger, whether experimenting with him is more important than dating me."
"You aren't serious?!" she asked in exasperation.
Draco stood and began to dress. "Why wouldn't I be serious? You've been choosing to devote your time to someone else. I am not going to stand around while you comparison shop!"
"That is not what is going on! I have chosen you. What I'm doing with Fred has absolutely no romantic component. It is completely and utterly about magic."
"Then you can prove it to me by breaking off all contact with the prat."
"Draco, he's been my friend since I was eleven. I spend almost every Sunday afternoon with his family. You can't really expect me to never see him again simply because you are paranoid."
He arched a brow at her. Although a good quarter of his brain was screaming at him that she was right and that he had nothing to worry about, the larger part – a part that had been taken over by a raging desire to obliterate Fred Weasley – refused to let him see reason. "If you won't stop seeing him, then you've made your decision about us," he told her cuttingly, stalking out of the bedroom.
As he stepped into the Floo, he ignored her call to stop, to come back, and talk to her.
Three days later he ignored the Howler Ron Weasley sent.
He was even able to ignore Harry Potter standing in the middle of his office at Malfoy Industries ranting about Draco being a bloody fool.
As he stalked through Diagon Alley late one evening, however, it was a bit harder to ignore the sight of Hermione sitting on the counter in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes sobbing into her hands, while Fred awkwardly patted her back. Nevertheless, he managed to keep walking.
He ignored his own heart, when it warned him not to pick up some blond tart at the Leaky and take her home with him just because Hermione was at the bar with her friends.
What he could not ignore, although he desperately wanted to, was a posting in the society section of the Daily Prophet, almost two years after he'd walked out of her flat, announcing the engagement of Hermione Granger and Fred Weasley.
The End
AN: This was suppose to be a drabble written for dorito2000 on Fred Weasley's birthday. She prompted me with: Fred steals Hermione away from Draco. This really doesn't fit the prompt at all. This is more about Draco losing Hermione and it is way too long to be a drabble. Ugh! Hope you like it anyways. Part of the fredsnotdead universe. Thanks to sugarquill39 and kazfeist for betaing this so fast! They are both the best and I so appreciate their help.