Disclaimer: Just borrowing J.K. Rowling's characters...
Maroon 5 Competition – For: Slytherin Cat
& The Failed Relationships Competition - For: Sparkling Soul
Competitor: Aegisshi
Number: 40
Song: Last Chance
Due: 1st March 2013 - 1st May 2013
Beta-Reader: Tiff as cupcake0118
Summary: The need to put his pride aside and convince the girl he loves to stay by his side. Will he need to use his last resort to stop her from walking down the aisle with the enemy?
Song:
"Last Chance"
I'm sure that he could give you everything
Stability and diamond rings
All the things I do not have
I understand you can't handle that
But for everything that I lack
I provide something you almost had
Hot flesh that you yearn to grab
Pit of your stomach you're still so sad
Oh, what you gonna do?
I'm in love with you
Don't you wanna dance?
This may be the last chance (last chance)
That I get (I get) to love you (to love you)
Oh oh oh
Out of sight not out of mind
You want the world, I'll give you mine
Cause your the girl I'll never find
And I'm the boy you've left behind
I know you think you're satisfied
And God knows how hard we try
But if you showed up at my door
I could give you so much more
Oh, what you gonna do?
I'm in love with you
Don't you wanna dance?
This may be the last chance (last chance)
That I get (I get) to love me (to love you)
Oh oh oh
Oh, what am I gonna do?
I don't like to lose
You're not making sense
This may be the last chance
That you get to love me, oh
Oh, you sure don't make it easy to get myself to safety
You tell me that I'm crazy
But you're the one who makes me this way
You call yourself impulsive
But that's what makes us so explosive
So as I burn these photographs
I wonder if you kept the ones you have
Keep them locked up somewhere safe
Cause it's the only place you'll see my face
Oh, what you gonna do?
I'm in love with you
Why don't you wanna dance?
Cause this may be the last chance (the last chance)
That I get (that I get) to love you (to love you)
Oh, what am I gonna do?
I don't like to lose
You're not making sense
This may be the last chance
That you get to love me
Oh, oh, oh
Cause this may be the last chance that I get to love you
Oh, oh, oh
To love you
Oh oh oh
Last Chance
When the moon stands at its highest peak there are still many people who are awake 'till the sun rises. Most of the time these people have problems, and can't sleep because of their thoughts. Like this young man who has been walking aimlessly on the pavement for quite some time.
By the way he stumbles and staggers, he has probably downed many bottles of the drink he clutches in his hand. His black cloak and half-buttoned, expensive white shirt beneath it, makes him look a tad suspicious.
Whoever sees his blond hair and pale skin which reflects the moonlight might think he is a porcelain doll. However the dark shadows around his eyes make him look like a ghost gliding aimlessly down the street.
With one swift movement he drowns the last bit of Firewhiskey down his throat. Coughing a couple times, he cleans the last droplets on the side of his mouth with the sleeve of his white shirt. He throws the bottle with a smash on the hood of closest car, and the machine begins to wail in alarm.
He covers his ears in annoyance as his head pounds in response to the noise.
"Shut up!" He yells and begins to kick the hubcaps, until his eyes divert and see a figure who emerges from the house across the road.
"Who are you!" The figure demands.
Let's say it's primal instinct that he knows he's in trouble again.
"Hey! Stay there!"
He lets his legs carry him to any direction, until he has to stop to catch his breath. When he looks up he sees the small cosy terraced house that he wanted to avoid at all cost. The house that truly defines her; boring, neat and an average breadth, but also curiously so inviting. His hand seizes the lock behind the low wooden garden fence and in mere seconds he snaps it like it's not the first time he has done this. Walking on the paved path through the front garden, he finally arrives at her doorstep.
The small lantern above the door suddenly lights for the visitor. He groans as the light penetrates his foggy mind.
"Granger! Get out!" He bangs with such force on the door that lights begin to flicker in he neighbouring houses, signalling he has woken most of the street.
"I know you're there! Gra-" With a loud bang the door is thrown wide open before his eyes. His hand is still in the air, ready to begin another course of incessant knocking.
"What the hell are you doing?" She hisses.
Her arms are crossed, her brows are shaped in a 'V' and her lips are twitched downwards in anger. He chuckles, lets his hand fall from its mid-air position and rests on her shoulder. She gazes at his dirty hand with disgust. Before she has time to comment, he clumsily tries to stand upright and graces her with a deep bow.
"Want to dance with me, milady?" His right hand is outstretched, while his left is behind his back. His right foot goes a bit forward and his left a bit back.
"What?" She asks bewildered.
"A dance, milady."
Neither of them makes a move as she doesn't know, or understand what is happening in the middle of the night at her front door. She smells the odour around him and covers her nose. He goes back to the state he was in when he arrived and coughs unhealthily. His eyes never leave hers.
"So when is the wedding with Weaselbee?"
"You're not invited."
"Hurtful."
"Is that why you're here in the middle of the night! Go back to sleep and stop this nonsense, Malfoy."
"Nonsense! Really? So we didn't kiss when we met each other at the Ministry ball, nor did we sleep with each other in my house on the night of the reopening of Hogwarts! And you also didn't visit or sleep in my house on the day you said that fucking Weasel has gone to watch the world Quidditch cup! Need I continue?"
With each word he says, the higher the decibel goes. She looks with panic at the houses next door to see whether they are listening to their interaction. Hermione pulls him by the arm inside the house, before she closes the door with a loud slam.
"Are you mad! What is the meaning of this?"
"The meaning? Brightest witch, my ass!"
She closes her eyes as she starts to count to ten, before she leaves him there all dirty, smelly and in a totally foul mood.
He stands all alone in the hall with a terrible headache. The moving pictures of her and Weasel laughing and smiling at each other give him the urge to vomit right there and now.
"Don't even think about it."
The sobering spell hits him like a brick. Everything he wants to forget and deny comes back like a cold waterfall onto his head.
"What did you do that for!"
"You're welcome, Malfoy."
He pushes her against the wall, prisoning her between his arms on both sides. He knows Granger is not that easily intimidated, she always bites back. And hell, he loves her bites.
"Why him? You know I hate him!"
"You hate everyone, try again?"
"You're not happy with him"
"Says who?"
"I can give you so much more."
She is silent for a moment.
"It's a mistake."
"Mistakes which we have made repeatedly." He strokes her cheek with the back of his hand.
"What's wrong with you?" She struggles in his grasp to try and get free. "I'm a mudblood! Your parents will roll over in their graves knowing you're touching me."
He drops his arms and moves a step back. His face turns away from her.
"Just as I thought. Please escort yourself out." She eyes him, before she strides upstairs without a single glance back.
"You missed me."
She releases an exasperated sigh, "Look, I was impulsive. I'm sor-"
"I-"
"Don't!" Her eyes flash as she whips her head around to glare at him.
"I love you." His grey blue eyes plead with the words he says.
Her eyes go wide as her mouth drops.
"You're crazy!" When she hears Malfoy following after her, she runs up the last steps of the stairs. With one quick move she tries to shut the door right in his face. However his foot keeps the door from closing.
"It doesn't matter anymore."
"Go away, Malfoy! You're not needed here."
He pushes against the door with all his force, making her fall butt first on the ground. Kneeling before her he can clearly see the tears on both cheeks.
"I'm Hermione Weasley in three days."
"You don't make any sense." His thumb goes over her tear stains, wiping them.
"I know."
She takes him by the collar as her lips crush against his. He greedily responds.
"Being impulsive again?"
She gives him a small smile as she puts her arms around his neck. Both eyes search for the wanted answer, but she voices:
"Goodbye."
He lifts her up in a bride-like style, before he puts her tentatively onto her bed.
"Last chance." He whispers.
She kisses him vigorously, while her hand tries to unbutton the last buttons of his white shirt.
o
She always wakes up early; being the head Healer of the Department of Creature-Induced Injuries has its downfalls. Feeling the cold and empty space next to her, she presumes that he must have left some hours ago. She switches the pillows and lets her face sink in the pillow he slept on last night. Subconsciously inhaling his familiar smell. With a sigh she rises and looks for a note that he always leaves behind. Finding none, she huffs and paces to the bathroom. Once there she grabs her engagement ring that gleams for her attention. She looks at it and smiles, before she slips it onto her finger. The big day will finally arrive in two days.
Going downstairs she smells the fresh coffee that is magically ready to be poured. Her thumb strokes the diamond ring on her ring finger when she grabs a mug for the black liquid.
Right on time she sits down, an owl screeches its arrival as it drops the daily prophet through her mailbox, landing it precisely on the table.
'Malfoy' She reads. Her eyebrow goes up with suspicion as she puts her mug down to open the front page of the Daily Prophet, 'dead or alive?". Her eyes immediately scan the whole article with a heavy breathing.
"Malfoy
Dead or Alive?"
Mister Malfoy D. was found by his loyal elf this morning around five am in the bathroom, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondant. The elf was in a tremendous state when she found her master lying cold and unmoving on the ground. Thanks to the quick thinking and movement of his elf, Pinky, Mister Malfoy D. was sent to St. Mungo hospital and is now in the care of the prominent healers and curse breakers. He's currently still fighting for his life, because they are still unsure which curse he has used upon himself. Is there a possibility that he has used a very dark spell? Why did he have gone to this extent to use these measurements? Read more in the next pages.
The door closes with a thunderous crash, her black coffee forgotten.
A/n: Special thanks to Slytherin Cat for giving my inspiration. I love Maroon 5 too! And special thanks to Tiff for making this story possible to post due to the technical aspect. And last but not least; thanks for reading! Please review!
