Damn.
Astoria never came home early. Never. What was she doing here? Draco was going to be sick.
He pulled away from Hermione as quickly as he could. As if that would help. As if the damage hadn't already been done.
His wife's pale face turned a tomato shade of red. She wasn't the type to get embarrassed. She was the type to get pissed. And she was as pissed as he'd ever seen her. Astoria grabbed Hermione's stack of clothes off the floor and shoved them at her.
"Get dressed and get the hell out of my house." Astoria sent a venomous glare at Draco then stomped out of the room. She slammed the door behind her, shaking a picture off the wall. It shattered on the floor. Hermione jumped.
"Hermione," said Draco softly.
"Don't say anything." Hermione swallowed and slipped out of bed. She quickly pulled on her clothes not looking at him, until she turned, connected her eyes with his then apparated out of the room. In a blink, Draco was left with no one but his wife. His very pissed off wife.
He would have to face her sometime. Draco pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and walked down the curving staircase. Astoria was staring out the window to the gardens, her hands shaking as she tried to drink a glass of water.
Draco heart ached. He had loved her once. Very, very much.
#
It was March. Draco and Astoria were to be married in just a few days. Malfoy Manor was packed with house elves and other servants scrambling around to the orders and whims of both Draco and Astoria's mother.
They had ordered at least a hundred doves, a whole orchestra and nearly everyone was invited. Mrs. Greengrass even accidentally invited the Potters. (They, at least, politely declined.) It wasn't about their friends or even what they wanted it was just about making a big show for everyone. Trying to get back in the good graces of the Ministry. The only reason the Greengrass's, who were not disgraced during the war, allowed their daughter to marry Draco was because Mr. Greengrass got himself a gambling problem and lost their entire family fortune. But for all the reasons the families thought they were getting married, the real reason was that Draco and Astoria loved each other.
Draco pushed open the door to Astoria's dressing room without announcing his presence. About five house elves surrounded her. She stood with her back facing him on a platform, her long black hair twisted and pinned in a towering up-do that defied all laws of gravity and folds and bows and ruffles of blindingly white fabric were drowning her like some sort of evil wedding monster. He tried to stifle a chuckle. It didn't work.
Astoria turned around, her eyes narrowed. "What?"
Draco smirked. "Nothing... you look..." Ridiculous but he couldn't say that. He laughed.
"Yeah. I know." She sighed and stepped down from the platform. "Will you give us a minute?" she said to the house elves. They nodded their little heads and scurried out of the room. "This is awful. I look insane."
"I wouldn't say insane..."
Astoria placed her hand on her head and groaned. "This is not how I imagined my wedding day."
It wasn't how Draco imagined his wedding day either. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny pink box. He flicked his wand over it and stretched out in size. "Open it," he said to Astoria.
She pushed back her lacy sleeves and popped open the box. "Oh," she said softly. Draco smiled. Astoria slipped the fabric from the box and held it front of her. It was a cream dress with just the faintest hint of rose, constructed of a light airy fabric the dressmaker had called chiffon, held up by tiny straps and only fell to her knees. Draco had caught Astoria staring at it in the store window.
"They'll never let me wear this," she groaned. "But it's beautiful. Thank you."
"Marry me," said Draco. Astoria laughed.
"I already agreed to that. Trust me, if I hadn't, I wouldn't be wearing this awful dress."
"Now." Draco was staring her in the eye. "Change and come with me."
"You're serious? We can't... oh, what the heck."
Draco gave Astoria a moment to change into her dress and let down her hair. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His heart was pounding.
Astoria's broom was leaning against the wall. He grabbed it and straddled it. "Let's go." Astoria was grinning ear to ear as she took Draco's hand and climbed on with him. They flew out the open window into the fresh spring air.
They weren't able to apparate out of Malfoy Manor, so they'd travel into London and apparate to their final destination from there.
Draco had met Astoria at Hogwarts but she was younger than him and they didn't know each other well at all. So if people asked where they'd met he tell them America.
A year after the war ended, Astoria went to America to find herself. Draco went to escape himself. He saw her sitting on the steps of a little white country church somewhere in Georgia wearing a pink dress and eating a peach. It technically wasn't love at first sight. But it was love at that sight.
That's where they were heading on their broom. To that little white church. That's where they would be married.
Their families would just have to live with it.
#
A heaviness weighed on Draco as he recalled the day he married Astoria. The kiss. The vows. The vows he had broken.
Astoria turned around and looked at him. He expected her to ask him how or why. He wanted her to even. But she just looked at him, coldness in her eyes. The girl from the meadow and the little white church a thousand miles away.
"Astoria," he said not knowing what else to say. She just shook her head.
"What do you want for dinner?" she asked.
Draco stumbled backwards. That was the last thing he thought she'd say. It was unlike her. When she got mad. She got really mad. She'd throw things and curse and try to hex people.
"I-"
"I'm hungry. I had a long day at work and I want to eat," she said.
"Shouldn't we talk about-" No. Draco didn't want to talk about it but he always didn't want her to bottle everything up and avada kedavra him in his sleep.
"I don't want to talk about it." Her voice was as tense as he'd ever heard it. The glass shattered in her hand, spraying sharp fragments and water everywhere.
"Tori, are you okay?"
"Don't call me that," she snapped. Her hand was cut and bloodied.
"Let me help." Draco reached out for her hand and she tugged away.
"Don't."
Astoria reached into her boot where she kept her wand and started to mutter a spell over her wounds but she started sputtering. Tears leaked from her eyes and she slid to the floor.
"How could you... How could you. Why did you have to ruin everything?"
Draco wanted to throw up. He knew he would later. He didn't know how it happened. All he knew was the way Hermione made him feel. The way Astoria hadn't in a long time. Like he was special. Important. Worthy. But obviously, he wasn't.
"I'm sor-"
"No. You're not!" she shouted. "You're not sorry. You're just sorry you got caught!"
"Come on." Draco suddenly felt defenseless and he didn't know why. He deserved everything she threw at him. He was the cheater. "You know things haven't been right with us for years."
"That doesn't give you the right." Astoria stood up.
"No. It doesn't. But I never see you. Ever. We don't touch, or kiss, or even talk. You're always at work."
"It always comes back to that, doesn't it? You don't like that I work. You want me to hang around here like your little pet and have nothing in the world other than you!"
"That is not true!" Draco slammed his fist against the wall. "I don't care that you work. Hermione has a job and I don't -"
Astoria's mouth fell open. Oh, Merlin. He should not have said that.
"You say her name, her name to me. You're disgusting. You make me sick." Astoria shoved her wand back in her boot and ran out of the kitchen. Draco didn't follow her. He should have followed her. The front door squeaked open and then slammed shut.
She was gone.
The question nagging at his mind. Was it worth it?
#
As long as he lived, Draco would never forget the first night they spent together. Astoria had been gone for a month doing work in Africa. Draco had offered to go with her but she said he would get in the way. So he was all alone in Malfoy Manor.
He had sent a few of his employees home early so he was the only one available to give Ron Weasley the paperwork he needed for a case he and Potter were working. Draco walked down the few flights to the Auror's Department.
Weasley's door was made of tinted glass. He could see two silhouettes clearly through the door. Hermione and Weasley.
"You've worked every night for the last two weeks!" Hermione shouted.
"I have to work. How else would we eat?"
"You act like you're the only one who works," she snapped. "And when you are at home all you do is sit around. You hardly even notice me. Merlin curse the day they decided that televising quidditch games was a good idea."
"Sorry that when I get home I want to enjoy myself and not be nagged."
"I do not nag."
Weasley laughed. The door flew open. Hermione burst out and let the door slam behind her. She almost ran right into Draco.
She gasped. "Sorry."
"It's okay," said Draco, his hand on her arm.
"How much of that did you-"
"Not much," Draco lied.
Hermione nodded and hurried from the corridor. Draco knocked on Weasley's door. He answered and took the papers. It was a transaction with no words at all.
Draco walked back into his office and drew his wand when he noticed someone standing inside.
"Oh, Hermione." He lowered his wand. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes were red. She had been crying. "Are you alright?"
She shrugged. Draco placed a hand on her shoulder. Heat shot through his body. She was small, fragile. Beautiful. Hermione collapsed into his arms. Draco hesitated but then wrapped her in a tight embrace. He could feel her heart beat against his chest. His heart quickened in time with hers.
She looked up and when their eyes met he couldn't stop himself. Draco's lips caught hers. She immediately kissed back. Her hands tangling in his hair, his hands running down her back. It was wild. Passionate. Unlike anything he'd ever experienced.
They knocked into his desk and into the bookshelf. Draco tripped back into the chair and Hermione landed on his lap. She gasped at the contact.
Her face was pink and her lips swollen. Her hair a tangled mess from his hands. Hermione's small fingers tugged at Draco's tie until it came undone and slithered onto the floor. Then she went to work on the buttons.
No one said a word. They both seemed to know that if they did it would all come crumbling down.
Draco slipped his hand under Hermione's pink blouse and pulled it over her head.
Damn.
Those soft pink lips met his again and it was over before it started. They were both going to give in.
Being with her felt like fall. Like warmth and home and cinnamon. Magic, mystery. A descent into something beyond, something greater than himself.
"You're perfect, witch," he growled in her ear.
"Call me that again," she whispered.
"Witch. My perfect little witch."
They were still on the chair when it was over. Her arms locked behind his neck, their breaths, heavy, labored, in unison.
"Don't go," he said in her ear. "Stay. Stay with me."
Draco hated himself. He would always hate himself for betraying his vows. But he wanted to do it again.
#
Draco felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes. He bent down and picked up the shards of glass on the floor by hand. His wand would have been sufficient but it was his fault he broke the glass. He deserved to cut and slice his hands. To be on his knees picking up the pieces. Not that he could ever really pick up the pieces. Not the pieces that mattered.
There was knock at the door. Draco stood up. Maybe Astoria came back and just forgot her key. He hurried to the front door and slung it open, expecting to see his wife's face.
It wasn't his wife. It was Ron Weasley.
Oh, hell.
Thanks for reading! Please review if you get a chance I really appreciate it. I hope you're enjoying!
