Written for Draco/Hermione fanfiction contest #006

Summary: Sometimes accomplishing a task requires something in recompense.

A/N: Sometimes, I think we D/Hr shippers like to kill/marry Ron off to get him out of the way. But I don't think it's that simple. So this is D/Hr, but probably not in the way you're used to.

Bets

"Well I'd bet you my entire vault at Gringott's-"

"Okay, that's quite enough," Hermione interrupted Harry's slurred speech with a little smile. "I think we all could use some fresh air, hmm?"

The night was one of celebration to be sure, but Hermione could not overlook the fact that her friends tended to drink a little too much at these occasions. This generally led to some sort of ridiculous bet between Ron or Harry and some conniving (and sober) party-goer; in turn, this would lead to some sort of conflict when the drunker party came back to their senses in the morning. Hermione learned that it was best to extract her friends before any real damage could be done. Now, here they were at their Hogwarts reunion and Hermione felt as if she were having to work double time. She wished Ginny were around.

"Hermione," Ron was saying, "do you think you could get me some water?" He asked innocently enough, but she knew it was only a ruse to get her away from them for awhile.

Fine, she decided. They are grown men and there is no sense in coddling them. "Sure, I'll just be right back."

As soon as she was out of ear-shot, Harry leaned over to his best friend and said, "I'll bet you a hundred Galleons that you won't have the guts to do it tonight."

Ron gave this offer some thought. After a few minutes, he stuck out his hand, and they shook on it.

xx

By ten o'clock that evening, Draco Malfoy knew things could not get any worse. Aside from the fact that he was not nearly drunk enough to be reminiscing with his old classmates, he spotted Hermione Granger roaming the party by herself. She was by herself, and she looked stunning. Draco wondered where her constant companions had run off to. He wondered if he had enough time to…

But no. He certainly wasn't going to do that. He knew it was quite warranted and quite a long time in coming, but it would be so humiliating. Even after all these years, Draco Malfoy still clung to his pride like a life preserver. His peers had seen him at his worst, but if they could pretend the nastiest parts of the war hadn't happened, so could he.

Except he really could not. Because every bloody time he saw Granger, he felt the guilt again. He could hear her screams echoing in his head like they had echoed through Malfoy Manor all those years ago. So Draco bet himself that if he caught her alone, he could not apologize for that atrocity. This had always been his method of coping with things he did not want to do but felt necessary anyway. Just what he was betting himself for (sometimes it was new robes, or books, or the latest broomstick model). Lucky for him, she was never alone. Granger always seemed surrounded. At work by co-workers and liaisons from other departments. At these parties by Potter and some assortment of the Weasley clan. He couldn't lose his own bet if it couldn't take place.

Why he wanted to apologize was purely selfish, of course. He longed to assuage his guilt and wipe her agony from his memory.

Her path across the Entrance Hall brought her right by him. Now or never. Just do it. Don't let your fears win. No one has to know. So on the quick impulse, he caught her elbow. She looked up at Draco with such surprise that he almost lost his nerve.

"Granger, I wondered if I could have a private word with you?" he asked. "I promise only to take a minute of your time."

Hermione's mind raced. What on earth could Malfoy possibly want from her? "Well, all right, Malfoy," she agreed. "I'm on my way out to the gardens, if you'd like to talk, you can accompany me."

He swallowed and considered. Now or never. Do it now and she'll be out of your head for good. He nodded, and they began their walk.

"I can't imagine why you want to talk to me," Hermione said. She tried very hard to keep a blush out of her cheeks. Since they were young, even though he taunted her, she had always found him quite striking. Why that strange attraction would be creeping back now, Hermione had no idea. She did her best to squash the feelings.

Draco was quiet for a minute, choosing his words carefully. Why hadn't he planned his speech earlier? He cursed in his head. "A lot has changed since we were teenagers," he decided to begin.

Hermione only nodded.

"What happened back then…" He was making himself vulnerable, he realized. He cursed at himself again, wishing (as he had so often before) he had no conscience. "When you were at the Manor, with Bellatrix…"

That transported Hermione back for a moment, back to the most intense physical pain she had ever felt. She had forgotten that Malfoy was there that day because most of what she remembered was the blackness of agony.

Draco saw the quick expression of discomfort on her face. "I shouldn't have brought this up here. I'm sorry. But I just needed to say, I'm sorry I couldn't… No, that I didn't try to help you."

For a moment, Hermione wanted to laugh in his face, to slap him, to spit the phrase Too little, too late, Malfoy. But she recognized the difficultly of what he had done. He was full of pride, yet here he was, apologizing for something that wasn't his fault. So instead, she softly asked the question, "Why just apologize to me then?"

He didn't have an answer for this. It was a valid point after all, but for all the time he had spent convincing himself to make amends, he hadn't thought why her? at all. Didn't Potter and Weasley and whoever else had been kept in the cellar deserve the same apology? He'd heard Weasley screaming her name in such anguish. He knew the sacrifice Potter had made; hell, Potter even helped Narcissa in the end. But no, the Mudb- Grang- Hermione's suffering stayed with him. As a child, he saw her as a lowly thing, but that was just how he had been brought up. During the war, after, he could see her differently. She was strong, but not untouchable.

She felt he was uncomfortable. "No, I'm sorry, it doesn't matter why. Thank you."

Hermione truly meant this, and she hoped Draco understood that.

Now, they found themselves at the spot Hermione had left the boys. They were gone. This won't do, she thought. Hermione looked at Draco, who was staring away, off toward the lake. She gently placed her hand on his arm, and his head snapped back toward her.

The touch had been a shock, for sure. Draco attempted to keep his face from betraying this fact. Her hand was warm and… yes, welcome. Five years was not a long time in the grand scheme of things, but it was long enough to bridge a wide, wide chasm of pride and bigotry. He smirked (Hermione felt he did not know how to actually smile) in a friendly manner and said, "I really am sorry."

"And I really am grateful," Hermione assured him. "I hope you're well. I have to find where Ron and Harry have got off to. I'm sorry to leave so quick, but you know…"

He didn't know exactly, but he nodded anyway. And then she was on her way.

xx

She didn't have to look far to find them. Ron and Harry were huddled by a near-by bush, whispering. Harry appeared to be egging Ron on to do something; Hermione felt weary as to what that might be.

When they saw her, they separated quickly. A dozen red flags popped up in Hermione's mind, but she went with it anyway. "What are you two up to?" she asked sweetly.

Ron got a very serious look on his face. Harry was grinning ear to ear, like he couldn't control the muscles in his face. Her stomach churned.

But what happened next stunned not only Hermione, but also Draco, who was watching the exchange from where Hermione had left him.

Ron, a tad unsteady, dropped to one knee. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Hermione nearly gasped, realizing what was happening.

"Hermione," Ron began, "will you please marry me?"

Draco turned away, his stomach churning with anger. Can't even do her the favor of being sober, he thought bitterly.

Hermione faltered. Obviously, it was premeditated; he had a ring, for goodness sake! They'd been together long enough, of course. But something did not feel right. But that was only for a moment. She slipped her smile back into place and took Ron's hand. She brought him up to his feet and kissed him on the forehead.

"I love you," Ron blurted, then reddened.

"I love you too," she replied, "but how about we wait, and you can ask me tomorrow?"

Ron agreed. Harry had not stopped smiling even though he was down a hundred Galleons.

As they left to go back inside, Hermione turned around, looking for Draco. She had the strangest urge to see his reaction. But he was gone.