'The Minister of Magic requests the pleasure of the company of
Mr. Malfoy
at a masquerade ball to be held at Hogwarts
on Saturday evening, January 17 at 21:00
Attire: Black Tie.'
Draco placed the invitation on the table in front of him carefully. He massaged his temples and sighed, finally resting his back against the soft leather chair. He reached for the calendar he kept on his desk and marked the date. He guessed the ministry never really got tired of making fun of him, of his status and of his past. But he could understand that. Their need to feel superior. He understood why they wanted to make fun of someone they considered inferior. After all, he had spent most of his early life doing that.
He knew very well what was the occasion for the ball. Ten years had passed since the Hogwarts battle. A battle in which all the ideals he had been raised on had been proven wrong. Draco ran a hand through his hair and stood. He looked out of the balcony. Outside, the snow fell from the sky covering the landscape with a thick, white coat. The coldness and the silence that reigned in the mansion at 7:30 filled him with sadness. His life was falling apart. His mother had died three months ago, his father died locked in Azkaban, two and a half years earlier. And his girlfriend went through all that with him, she helped him when he needed the most and, for that, he was forever grateful. But he could feel the distance between them growing and it was only a matter of time before the break up.
The man walked to the bedroom he was sharing with her. Draco laid by her side, enjoying the warmth and the peace her presence brought. Even to though he knew he wouldn't have the pleasure of her company for much longer, he enjoyed it for as long as he could.
"Please, Freya, we can work this out, I'm sure of it…" Draco pleaded, but the redhead was already walking out of the front door.
"I can't do this anymore, Draco, I… I can't be your babysitter. I can't mend you." The woman said with tears in her eyes, "I love you, I really do, but… I'm sorry. I have to leave."
She left the house and stood still outside with her small purse hanging on her shoulder and her reddish brown curls falling on her shoulders and he watched as she disappeared before him like a mirage. He went inside the house and breathed, trying to calm himself down.
'Breathe in, breathe out, breath in, breathe ou… Oh, fuck it!'
But he couldn't. He grabbed a vase and threw it against the wall in a fit of rage. His breathing was erratic and there were tears in his eyes. He rested his back against a wall and sunk to the ground, his face buried in his hands.
Now he was truly alone.
~X~
'The Minister of Magic requests the pleasure of the company of :
Ms. Granger
at a masquerade ball to be held at Hogwarts
on Saturday evening, January 17 at 21:00
Attire: Black Tie'
Hermione smiled proudly at the invitation she'd helped design. Yes, she was an auror, but the minister and the department responsible for the invitations often asked for her help, besides, she'd also created the concealing spell to be used until the time of the unmasking.
"What do you think?" She asked Ron.
"It looks great." He said with a sigh and without any excitement in his voice.
"What is it?" She placed one of her hands on his shoulder, the smile fading from her lips.
"It's nothing, don't worry." He continued trying to figure out how to use the newest Samsung Galaxy telephone, "I just… Can't seem to figure this contraption."
Ron had chosen the same career as his father and his newest fascination was cellphones.
"All you have to do to turn it on is press this button here on the right side." Hermione said and went to the kitchen, "Do you want tea?"
"Bloody hell, Hermione, is there something you don't know how to do?" Ron wasn't joking, not this time, this time, he was really annoyed and she noticed.
"What? Ron, what's wrong?" She asked actually concerned that time.
"What's wrong? What's wrong?! You seem to be able to do your job and my job and still find time to make invitations and spells for the bloody ministry ball! You make me feel worthless!" Ron stood and started shouting at her.
"And do you think it's my fault if I was born a muggle? You grew up in this world, Ronald, you grew up in the middle of magic, you have a bloody flying car and wands and owls that deliver your messages. Where I grew up, there was none of this. I'm better than most because I actually like what I do and I want to do everything that I couldn't do when I was younger!" She defended herself, "I know how a cell phone works, because when we were in the 6th grade, my father bought a phone that looked just like this one."
"I'm sick and tired of you thinking you're better than everyone."
"I don't think I'm better than anyone. What the hell are you talking about, Ronald?"
"Well, that's what you just did, you just tried to prove that you're better than me."
"I was just trying to help." She ran a hand through her hair, "And if you think that all I do is get in your way, then perhaps you should just leave. After all, this is my house, right?"
"I just might." Ron got up from the couch and started to gather his stuff. Then he just left.
Hermione groaned. Why did she have to ruin everything? She wouldn't tell him she regretted her decision, no, she was too proud to do that. But then, how would she face the lonely nights all on her own. For eight years Ron had lived with her and for eight years he had been her strength. He had been the reason for her to fight the PTSD from the battle and the sadness she felt when thinking of her parents. But how was she to face the pain alone? How was she to sleep in a cold bed every night looking at the empty space where he used to lay?
Well, apparently, she would have to figure that out. Because there was no way in hell she was going to contact him to say she was sorry, not now. Perhaps she would just have to learn to move on.
Now there was only one month before the ball and she had no one to go with.
She had to be strong and, even now, when she was suffering, she wanted to not suffer, to ignore the all the pain she felt and do what she had to do. And, at that moment, she needed to buy a dress.
That night, while she lay in bed, she couldn't sleep. There was this huge knot in her throat. She knew he would come back sooner or later, he did that sometimes, leaving her like that and, every single time he did that, it felt as bad as the first one; She felt the same way she did when Ron left her and Harry while they were searching for horcruxes. And one thought led to another. Hermione was reliving the battle, remembering all the people she didn't manage to save, seeing them die before her eyes. She cried. She cried all night.
~X~
It was one of the first nights in three years that he slept by himself. In fact, he didn't sleep, he just laid there, staring at the ceiling. He was done crying. He was done drinking the pain away. He was done feeling. He was just numb. And yet, Draco, couldn't help but crave Freya's touch. He curled up on the bed and shut his eyes tight. He wanted to drown in the pain and never come back. He wanted to die.
But he still had one thing to do. Draco needed to go to that damned Hogwarts ball. He had to. He was too proud not to.
Being from a family as the Malfoy one, he was taught, ever since he was a child not to decline an invitation, even if it was from an enemy, after all, an event such as that would require the grace of his presence.
He laughed at that thought. It had been such a long time since he acted that convinced. Maybe it was the alcohol bringing out the worst in him. He never drank when he was with Freya, she didn't like it… No, he shouldn't think of her. He had allowed himself to fall for her. He had allowed her to get into his life too deep and when she went out, she simply tore it apart.
And as the days went by, in that dark, cold place he dared to call home, Draco watched the door with hope, tightening his chest, expecting her to just show up and walk through the front door like the hurricane she was. But she never came back.
During the first two weeks, he waited, he sat by the door, afraid to leave and not be there if she arrived. But after that… Then he gave up. Freya had never been out for that long before. And then his hope faded and he knew that it was time to move on. She wasn't coming back for him, not this time.
~X~
Hermione had already brought the dress and even a nice suit for Ron, in case he came back and it was too late for him to get new clothes. Even after three weeks, she knew he would come back. Perhaps not before the party, but he knew he would attend. After all, it was a time for all to celebrate and be proud of. Hermione, Harry, Ron and pretty much all their friends were now on history books. They made a difference, they helped save the world. He had to be there.
After so many years of him leaving and then coming back, she knew better than to wait by the door like a lost puppy. Of course the emptiness and silence of the house bothered her, of course the nightmares still came, but she had to learn to live with it. She might not have Ron forever, she was not naive to the point where she would believe that.
She went to work every day, but she didn't meet Ron there not even a single time. She also didn't look for him.