What Might Have Been

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all characters, etc.

A/N: Yes, I know I haven't update my other works but Grad School and work takes up all of my time. I just needed to write something to not drive me towards insanity and despair, so here it is. One shot. Cheers!

She was here. He always knew when she was in a room; no matter how crowded or large the room was. He could just feel it inside him. It didn't surprise him; she was a fundamental part of him. No matter how things have changed.

The Great Hall was full of people; it was almost suffocating. He wanted to go home. He would rather watch his son sleep than put up with this asinine pretense. They had this celebration every year; he would have thought people would grow tired of it eventually. But, as his wife would always say, people always enjoyed a good party. So he made the donations, showed up and spent most of the night sitting on the bar watching everyone, waiting for his wife to tell him that an appropriate amount of time had passed so they could leave.

But tonight she was here. It was the first celebration she attended after being out of the country for three years.

It was a sea of color, the women's gowns seemingly multi-colored waves as the twirled and swayed around the dance floor. But like a scenario from his wife's romance novels, the crowd parted suddenly and there she was.

In a gown of palest green, she was a vision. People flocked around her, welcoming her back. She threw her head back as she laughed and he couldn't help but remember seeing the same action but in a more intimate setting with her. But that was many years ago.

He thought he had forgotten, but he had always known that was impossible. He sighed as he stood up from his seat. He needed to get her out of his field of vision, maybe then he could get her out of his mind even for a moment.

The courtyard was deserted, and the night air helped cool his head. He decided to give his wife thirty more minutes to enjoy the party before he would go back in and find her and persuade her to leave.

He froze momentarily as he placed his tumbler of Firewhiskey on a bench. She was here. Of course. The powers that be always liked to mess with him and rub his bad decisions to his face. Why would this night be any different, really?

"Oh, I didn't think anybody would be here," she said softly.

He took a deep breath to compose himself before he turned to face her. Merlin, she was beautiful.

"I could leave," he offered, but wishing she wouldn't tell him to go.

"No, no. that's not – not necessary."

He nodded and drank her in. The three years she was away he thought his feelings for her had withered away. He had started a new life without her, he was living. But seeing her again, all of his memories hit him like a Stunning spell. He could fool himself but he knew he wasn't really living; he was just getting by, surviving.

"So, how have you been?" she asked, giving him a small smile.

"I've been well."

She nodded in approval, "That's wonderful."

Silence.

"I – I heard you have a son. Congratulations."

The slight quiver in her voice pierced through him painfully.

"Yes. Scorpius."

"I think you'll be a wonderful father, Draco."

He gritted his teeth against the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. She knew what he wanted in life; what he strove for, what he fought for. She knew because he had once shared them with her, hoping he could shape his future around her.

But things turned out differently.

He cleared his throat, "Thank you. I will try my best to be."

She smiled.

He looked into her eyes, as much as he could despite the short distance between them. If only she could see how much she still meant to him; how much she was still a part of him.

"I should have taken your hand," he told her, suddenly needing her to know.

"What?"

"Three years ago," he clarified. "I should have taken your hand."

A tear fell from her eye and she hastily wiped it away. He was about to take a step toward her when –

"Hermione?"

She turned sharply towards the voice.

"What are you doing out here? People are looking for you."

He couldn't see him because of the bright lights inside the Hall, but Draco knew that voice.

"I felt a little hot; I just wanted to cool off a bit."

"Alright, well let's just greet everyone and we can go home. I know you're still a bit tired from travel."

She nodded and glanced back at him, "Take care. I'll see you around the Ministry, I suppose."

He swallowed the urge to call after her and nodded.

When she walked away, it allowed the other person to catch sight of him.

"Malfoy," he nodded to him.

"Potter."

As Hermione stood beside Potter, he placed a hand on the small of her back before leading her back inside.

Draco knew what it meant.

He looked up at the sky and stopped fighting the tears. He just needed a minute. Then maybe he could go back and look for his wife.

Just one minute. And then he can go back to surviving.

FIN