Five Regrets.
Disclaimer: I do not own, only in my wildest dreams.
One.
Draco Malfoy had just turned six years old. He had received a broomstick for his birthday and was extremely excited about being able to ride something other than a babies broom which didn't rise far enough off the ground to have any real fun. He didn't realise that the broom wouldn't raise too far into the air, because it was still a child's broom.
He looked around the entrance hall, seeing if his parents were around, they were not. This would be the perfect chance to get out of the house and try the broom, he laughed in glee, realising what he had done he covered his mouth and looked around again. His parents hadn't heard him or had misunderstood his laugh and he quickly ran as fast as his little legs would take him on to the grounds of the property.
He jumped onto his new broom with a squeal and began floating higher than he had ever been before. In his excitement he had flown closer and closer to the muggle village that had built itself near the manor. He tried to turn around, but when he turned the wind stung his eyes and he started crying. Draco let go of the broom and immediately began to fall.
He screamed as the ground grew closer and closer and then fell into darkness as he heard a sickening thud. Consciously he knew he should be dead, he had seen baby birds falling from lesser heights than what he had fallen from and die, but he could feel his body straining with effort from taking each breath. He heard a woman's cry and felt warmth envelope him. He knew that he should open his eyes and struggled with his uncooperative eyelids.
"That's it, love, open your eyes. You can do it," a kind voice encouraged him He prised his eyes open and saw a blurry figure leaning over him. He flinched away from her but the movement hurt and he cried out in pain. "Don't move, dear, you seemed to have taken quite the fall." He lay there, almost crying, scared that he couldn't see properly, and knowing he had no way home.
"I want to go home," He cried. Blinking away tears, he knew his father would be angry if he was to cry in front of a stranger. 'Malfoy's don't show emotions,' he had said.
"Where do you live, dear?" The woman asked.
"I live at Malfoy Manor," He supplied. His eyes were clearing and he could see the woman's eyes open with shock.
"There is a little boy living on that giant estate? Where were your parents when you got hurt?" She asked kindly.
Draco was confused by the kindness shown to him by this woman. He didn't see kindness very often in his house
"You are very pretty; do you live in the town?" He asked. He was sure she would say no, that she had just been dropping by for a look at the famous Malfoy Manor, she had to be a witch, Father had told him that muggles' were ugly and horrible.
"Yes, I do. You're in my house right now," She told him. He gasped in surprise.
"But that means you're a muggle!" He cried out trying to move away from her.
"I don't know what that is, but sure. Do you want to try and stand up now, dear? See if we can walk you home?" She asked.
"Yes," He said quickly, jumping up from the bed. He winced inwardly, trying to hide his pain from her so he could get away from the confusion of the situation quickly.
"What's your name?" She asked.
"Draco. What's yours?" He asked.
"Bethany," She replied with a smile. "Very nice to meet you, Draco." He nodded, and took her hand when she offered it.
He limped slightly as he walked but they moved as quickly as they could. Once they reached the gates he said he should go in alone, and he promised to find his mother and be taken to the hospital.
He waved goodbye to Bethany then ran as quickly as his damaged body would allow. He snuck into the main entrance where he found his parents standing, looking angry.
"Where the hell did you do boy?" Lucius demanded.
"I took my new broom out for a ride, but I fell off and hurt myself," Draco looked down. "A nice muggle helped me get back home." Draco's cheeks flushed with colour, embarrassed that he had to be helped by a muggle.
"What is her name?" His father demanded.
"Bethany," Draco squeaked. Lucius stormed out the front door muttering things Draco couldn't hear.
"Darling, are you okay?" Narcissa asked, holding her arms out for Draco. This kindness could only be shown as Lucius was not in the manor any longer.
Draco ran into her arms, tears spilling down his cheeks.
"He's going to kill her, isn't he?" Draco whispered into his mothers ear.
"I'm sorry, sweetie," She replied, and it was all the answer Draco needed. He started to sob into his mothers shoulder. Once he had calmed down Narcissa pulled him away and looked into his grey eyes. "Let's get you healed now."
That was the moment Draco knew that he had to distance himself from everyone, because it seemed that the people he cared for were hurt or killed. From that day onward, that was his greatest regret.
Two.
He looked at the girl before him. She had bushy hair, slight buck teeth and was surprisingly beautiful despite those facts. She was looking at him expectantly.
"Have you seen a toad? It's name is Trevor." She asked again, probably wondering if he was dumb.
"Are you a muggle?" He asked. He had never seen her around the pureblood parties his parents had held, but considering whom was in their circle he couldn't be sure.
"I am muggleborn, yes," She replied sighing. Probably thinking that he had to be dumb.
"There is no toad here. Go away," He told her, rudely.
He thought back to Bethany. How nice she had been, and pretty, even though she was muggle. He thought of how she had been killed because of him. He blinked, and shook his head to throw the thoughts out of his head. He would have to push this muggleborn witch away from him as much as was humanly possible.
That was the moment he decided to be as mean to this witch as much as possible.
He would forever regret the cruelty he knew he would inflict on her, but for him it was completely necessary.
Three.
He was on the run. He couldn't believe it. He was on the run from the law, because he was a death eater. He had been bullied by his father, peers and himself into doing this. Not for himself of course, but rather, for family honour. To keep his family alive maybe a day or two longer. And Merlin, he hoped it worked.
A shiver of disgust shimmied up his spine. The face, and pleading tone of his headmaster as he stood over him, and worse of all, when Snape stood over him and cast that unforgiveable. The body didn't just fall to the ground either, instead it fell all the way to the bottom of the tower. It disgusted him to watch Snape betray his mentor. The one person he knew had trusted and given him a second chance, and he had betrayed him worse than any other before.
Draco felt the extreme desire to lose Snape, turn around and turn himself over to the order of the phoenix. Wanting to didn't mean he could ever actually do it. Lucius and Narcissa would be slaughtered as examples faster than one could say the killing curse. They were his family, the people who raised him, created him. Whether they had been good parents or not, they were still just that, his parents. If this war had taught him nothing it was that family was more important than anything in the world.
Watching countless people being tortured, killed and degraded had shattered Draco's spirit irreversibly. It would take years of stability and determination to recover his spirit and life.
Snape and Draco were rushing through the forest, the other death eaters had disappeared and were no longer in earshot.
"Uncle Sev, stop," Draco said.
"What is it Draco? We must make haste," Snape said glancing around them.
"I don't want to do this. I can't continue to degrade myself to this extent," Draco explained. Inwardly cringing. He waited for Snape to mutter curses and profanities towards him, but instead when he raised his head Draco saw Snape had an odd contemplative expression on his face.
"You have two choices, boy. The first choice is to go back, relinquish yourself upon the order's mercy. The second is to spy, collect all the information you can possibly find and send it to the order. Leaving only enough evidence on the packaging to identify yourself with during the Death Eater Trials." The two options sounded bleak and depressing. But they would have to do.
"I will spy for the order then," He decided. A twitch of the mouth, something of a smile, graced Snape's face momentarily.
"You will have to put the Occlumency I taught you to good use, you realise?" Snape asked. Draco just nodded, the full weight of what he was planning falling onto his shoulders. The pair continued onwards for a while longer.
"I can do this right, Uncle Sev?" Draco asked in a small voice.
Draco's regret was for not doing this sooner, before the desperation had risen to such an extent.
Four.
He was drunk. He knew he was drunk, and he was extremely happy with the fact he was drunk. He was twenty-three, young, free and no longer considered an ex-death eater, instead people thought of him as a hero, it made him scoff.
What was there for the young man not to be happy about? He liked to pretend he didn't care how the many girls he had dated had only wanted him for his money, and heroic glory. What good was a disfiguring scar running along most of the left side of his chest if it didn't attract the ladies? He liked to pretend the passion he felt for Hermione wasn't love, and that it would be forgotten soon. But most of all, he liked to pretend that the many regrets he had didn't constantly plague him.
So many deaths weighed on his conscious. Bethany, Dumbledore, countless muggles, countless wizards, countless human beings, all dead because of him. Had things been different when he had met Bethany, maybe he wouldn't have told his father, maybe they would have been friends, maybe he would have been placed in Gryffindor, maybe he would have been Hermione and the boy wonder's friend from the start and most of all, maybe there wouldn't be so much pain and death resting upon his conscious. He watched Harry and Ginny fall farther and farther in love, and envied them. They would get married, have children, and one day would die together, happy with their lives and the way things had turned out for them.
His own life was placed before him, with endless possibilities, none of them taking him to the places he truly wanted to be. Of course, the only place he truly wanted to be was with Hermione, always. How could that happen though? She considered them friends, nothing more, nothing less. And he was forcing himself to be content with this idea, knowing having her in his life as a friend was much more meaningful than watching her from afar wishing to talk to her again.
Draco glanced around the smoke filled pub. The place was packed, there were muggles all around him, touching him, rubbing against him accidentally, and he didn't care one skerrick. He turned back to the bar and downed the rest of his drink before signalling the bartender for another. He turned back to survey the crowd when he saw her bushy head floating through the hordes of people towards him.
"Hermione! What are you doing here?" He asked once she was beside him.
"I needed a drink, and I needed a drinking buddy. You, sir, are a very good drinking partner," She smiled at him. He didn't ask her why she needed a drink, in a muggle pub no less, because he already knew the answer. The press were still after her for a comment on her part in the war, her opinion on the newest book concerning the war, her own books popularity, and the most asked question, especially when it was inappropriate, was what her relationship with Draco was.
Draco always laughed when he heard the question, the tears of laughter tended to come with Hermione's flustered response.
"Can I get a vodka on the rocks, please?" She asked the bartender, and signalled for them to keep coming. She took a sip of her drink, and sighed.
"I saw the most interesting interview in a magazine I generally wouldn't be caught dead with," Hermione began, smirking. Something she had picked up from him over the last few years.
"Seeing as the only interview I remember doing recently for a magazine was for the playwitch, I must ask Miss Granger, what's a girl like you doing with a magazine like that?" He raised his eyebrow at her and she blushed.
"Well, I saw you on the cover, so I bought it," She replied evenly. She drained the rest of her drink, and the bartender replaced her empty glass with a fresh one. She quickly changed the topic to how untrue the newest war book had been, and how she had laughed the whole way through. They had made Draco sound like a hero, made Harry's part in the war sound small, and almost completely excluded Hermione and Ron from the tale.
"It was written by Pansy Parkinson. What else would you expect?" Draco asked laughing.
Two hours later an extremely drunk Draco, and a very intoxicated Hermione entered a magical tattoo-ing store asking for a small dragon, for Hermione's upper thigh, and a small lion cub, for Draco's inner wrist. The tattoo-ist had refused payment from the war hero's and they had set off on their way to Draco's penthouse in Diagon Alley, as it was closest and neither was allowing the other to apparate.
They stumbled to the door, which was the moment Hermione fell onto Draco. She didn't move, and her half lidded eyes screamed for Draco to kiss her, so Draco did as the doorknob, the next door neighbours curious glance, and her half lidded eyes begged him to and kissed her. She moaned into the kiss and pushed him against the doorframe. Draco dropped the keys, and the sound of the keys clattering to the floor pulled them out of the kiss. They both giggled a little, Hermione more so than Draco, and Draco picked up the keys and opened the door. He closed it behind him and when he turned to Hermione her lips closed over his and that was the end of his self control.
The next morning, both awoke tangled in the others limbs, hung over and irritable, in Hermione's case. Draco made them bacon and eggs with fresh orange juice poured from a pre packaged container, though of course he said he squeezed it himself.
After breakfast Hermione had to rush home to get ready for work, he leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head and he kissed her cheek instead of her lips. He gave her a confused look and she shrugged.
"This can't happen, Draco. We aren't supposed to be together, no matter how amazing we are when we are. I'm sorry," She turned and walked away.
Letting her walk away, he decided, was his biggest regret to date.
Five.
He stood on the groom's side of the aisle. When Hermione had told him she was getting married he had refused to believe her. Just one month after they had slept together, Ron has proposed, and Hermione had agreed. This had, of course, been predestined according to everyone who knew the couple, except Draco of course.
Ron stared at the arch under which they would stand to become one in marriage. He refused to look at his wife-to-be, nervous that if she was too beautiful that she wouldn't be real. Draco though looked down the aisle and directly at the woman of his dreams. His harsh face softened when he saw her, she was a vision in white.
Her hair set into perfect curls, they looked like melted chocolate and he was sure would feel silky to the touch. She wasn't wearing too much makeup, just enough to cover her freckles, which Draco didn't like, her freckles were part of her, and part that should be shown especially on her special day. Her eyes shone brighter than he had ever seen, except when she got angry and fought with him. They were outlined with a product she had called 'kohl ' and the liner set them off to perfection. She was the most beautiful person Draco had ever seen.
Her eyes flittered over Ron's form and immediately sought his out. She stared right into his eyes, hers screaming the apologies she could never say, the promises she could never make and the future that would be all she wished for. Her gaze flickered to Harry, and then widened in shock, Draco tore his eyes away from the goddess before him. His eyes flicked straight to Harry and his own widened in shock also. Harry's eyes shone with knowledge.
Harry glanced from Hermione to Draco, taking in the information both their eyes were screaming to one another. Draco was in love with Hermione. Hermione was in love with Draco. So why on earth was she marrying Ron? Because it was believed they would all through their childhood? Was that the reason? He gave Hermione a giant grin, and then turned to Ron.
"Ron, why are you marrying Hermione?" He whispered to the rigid groom.
"You would marry Ginny, I would marry Hermione, it's how it all is supposed to be," Ron whispered back. Harry nodded slightly.
"But are you in love with her?" Harry asked.
"In love? Well, I love her, but I wouldn't go that far.." Ron trailed off, remembering what he was about to do.
"What about Luna?" Harry asked. Ron's spine shot straighter than it already was.
"What's this about Luna?" Ron asked, finally turning, glanced at Hermione, then back to Harry. Ron knew Hermione was beautiful, she would make an amazing wife and mother to whomever's children she chose to bear, but in his heart she couldn't hold a flame to Luna.
"I have to do this, Harry, it's far too late to back out now," Ron moaned, whipping his hand across his face. Hermione had finally made it to the end of the rows of guests, and almost to the aisle. She had been exchanging worried glances with Draco the entire time and was now begging with her eyes for someone to tell her what was happening.
Ron turned to Hermione.
"I'm in love with Luna," He stated. Her face became puzzled.
"I know, I'm in love with Draco," She replied.
"I know, so why are we getting married?" Ron asked.
"You asked, why did you ask?" Hermione replied.
"You said yes, why did you say yes?" Ron asked. They both realised the truth at the same time.
"Molly," Hermione said.
"Mum," Ron said at the same time.
"Do you want to cancel?" Hermione asked, nervously glancing behind her at the murmuring congregation.
"And waste all that money? On the wedding, the reception, your beautiful dress? I think this wedding needs to be used," Ron stated. Hermione looked upset for a moment.
"Okay, Ronald, let's get married then," Hermione had made a promise and she was going to stick to it.
"No, you and Draco should get married. Us muddling about at this is never going to work, we will just regret it in the end," Ron said. "So, ask him to marry you. Right here." Hermione looked nervous for a moment. Then turned to Draco.
Draco looked confused, slightly scared and a whole heap curious. He hadn't heard what they had said, only Harry had been privy to the conversation. He saw Hermione turn, and again his breath was taken away by her beauty.
"Hermione, what's happening?" He whispered. She reached him then got down on bended knee.
"Marry me, Draco?" She asked. Gasps and loud whispering flooded through the crowd. Draco pulled Hermione up from her knee.
"Are you serious?" He asked, holding her body as close to his as her dress would allow.
"Completely," She whispered. She pulled up his sleeve and kissed the lion cub prowling on his wrist. "Who else would get a silly tattoo on their body for me, and keep it?" She asked. He smiled.
His hand reached to stroke her face, and moments later pulled it to his own and kissed her like his life depended on it. When they surfaced they heard the cheering and clapping of the many guests who had risen to their feet to watch this spectacle of a wedding.
"Well, who else would I ever want to marry?" He asked, before pulling her to the altar, but not before hugging Harry and Ron. His two best men, who else could be better best men than the saviours of the wizarding world?
"Welcome to the wedding of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy," Ron called out to the crowd. "Now, hush up so we can get to the reception!"
Draco Malfoy had only one regret that day, not having done this a lot sooner.