Matter of Time
A/N: Firstly, a massive thank you to everyone that reviewed and favourited – it completely made my day and i'm so glad so many of you liked it! And secondly, I made this into a multichapter fic for leakingpenholder, so this is basically dedicated to you too, because without u i would never have had the idea! The next few chapters should be out this week, depending on if i get them all typed up in time! Please read and review! Happy Reading!
Chapter 2: The Repercussions of a Malfoy-induced Hangover
Hermione instantly felt the claustrophobic heat return to her the moment she stepped back inside the hall. It was a huge space – one of the largest in the country, and yet she felt like she was trapped in a broom closet. She spotted a waiter with a tray full of champagne and made a beeline for him, grabbing a glass and draining it as though it was water. She then blinked a few times, to steady the bubbles in her head, before instinctively reaching for another.
"Hermione, there you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!"
Ron's light-hearted, excited voice made her jump about a foot in the air. She turned to face him and smiled at him with wide eyes, almost as though she was seeing him for the first time.
"I was just getting some fresh air outside."
"Oh, ok!" he said absentmindedly, his mind clearly not able to stay focussed on her for too long. "Well it's almost time for the bouquet thing – Ginny's been asking for you for ages!"
Hermione sighed heavily, Draco's words ringing repeatedly in her ears; ' …You may have everyone else fooled, Granger, but it doesn't work with me. I know you…' Draco hadn't seen her in five years, and yet, he'd known straight away that there was something wrong with her. She saw Ronald practically every day, and as usual, he was perfectly indifferent. It also didn't help that he'd been asked to find her. Would he even have noticed her absence if Ginny hadn't have highlighted it?
She subconsciously reached for another champagne flute and drained it just as quickly as the last – she was trying desperately to drown out the all too familiar silky voice so full of smug righteousness that seemed to be echoing through her mind, that she didn't care about how she was appearing to everyone else.
"Um, Mione, don't you think you should maybe slow down?" Ron asked with a slightly concerned look on his face.
Hermione giggled, her head starting to hurt.
"Ron, it's a wedding! You're supposed to get drunk!"
And with that, she stumbled over to the bride and groom, no longer tipsy, but very much intoxicated, though whether the alcohol was entirely to blame for that, she was unsure.
x-x-x
The next morning was like a hazy mixture of physical and internal pain for Hermione. Her head throbbed violently, making the usually simple task of opening her eyes impossible, and her stomach seemed to be swirling around on its own accord, sloshing whatever its contents were around with the natural acid. She'd thrown up three times already and it just seemed to be getting worse. Her body ached angrily, and not even a steaming hot shower could ease it away.
Normally, she'd make the executive decision to stay in bed all day and attempt to sleep it off, but today she had to make an exception. She'd spent the night at the Burrow with the majority of the Weasley's, and Harry and Ginny had planned to come round and open their presents before they went off on their honeymoon that evening. In her drunken state last night, she'd foolishly promised Ginny that she'd keep record of everyone's gifts so that they could easily send out thank you cards via Hedwig. Stupid alcohol.
So, armed with a cup of strong black coffee, she curled up on an armchair by the roaring fire, and began to take notes as the happy couple began to open their gifts.
"What in God's name is this?" exclaimed Harry as he held up a rather distasteful vase that he'd just ripped the wrapping paper off of. It had a dated floral design painted onto it in colours that couldn't be defined by name or described by any word of English. Ginny wrinkled her nose in disgust and Ron shot them a sympathetic grin from his place on the floor.
"That's a family heirloom," Mrs Weasley said, coming into the living room. She'd been in the kitchen cooking lunch for everyone, and the smell was beginning to get to Hermione. "It's passed down to every newlywed couple in the family."
"Then why is it a gift from Aunty Muriel?" Ginny asked in confusion.
"Because, she only just invented the tradition! You are the first married couple to truly experience the joy it brings!" Mrs Weasley said with a sly smile. Harry sighed heavily and Hermione obediently wrote down the item and Muriel's name next to it.
The next few hours were spent like that, and it got to the point where Hermione was sure she would scream if one more present was opened. When everyone got up for a break, Ginny gave her a sympathetic hug.
"You should go over to the apothecary in Diagon Alley and pick up a hangover potion. We used to have one here, but mum stopped making it when we all moved out. Then again, I'm sure she'd make it for you, if you asked her…"
"Thanks Gin, but I don't mind going over to Diagon Alley. Maybe a change of scenery will do me some good?"
x-x-x
Hermione ran a hand through her hair and sighed heavily. She was getting more and more frustrated by each passing second, and her aching head wasn't helping matters. She'd been in the apothecary for about ten minutes and had had no luck whatsoever in locating the hangover potions. It also didn't help that the middle-aged woman at the counter was eyeing her with a judgemental glare.
"Looking for a hangover cure, Granger? I'm not surprised."
Hermione felt her blood boil as she heard the all too familiar voice of the one person she'd been hoping to avoid. She slowly turned around and looked up at the smug face of the man who seemed determined to be the bane of her existence.
"Do you have nothing better to do with your time other than stalk me, Malfoy?"
"Stalk is such a strong word!" he stated knowledgably, before leaning against the wooden shelf so that he was level with her. "And I'm merely concerned for your well being! You are not the type of woman to need a hangover potion! Did something happen last night to cause you to act this way?
Hermione glared at him but chose not to reply; it was completely and utterly pointless. He wanted her to admit to something that she had sworn herself against years ago. A few infuriating words and enticing looks were not going to change that. She was strong and stubborn, and intended on using these traits as her weapons against him.
He watched her with interest as she determinedly scanned the various bottles for what she wanted, hell bent on ignoring his presence. He never got tired of watching her – she was so entertaining and she didn't even know it; the way she frowned in annoyance when she failed to understand something, the way she read and re-read information quickly in her head so that she understood it fully. She picked up a vile of purple liquid and inspected its hand-written label, smiling in triumph when she realised it was what she wanted.
She walked over to the counter and he predictably followed. She rolled her eyes and turned to look at him, the silent tension becoming too taxing for her.
"Seriously Malfoy, give up. I'm not going to give you what you want. There's no point in you putting your life on hold for something that's never going to happen."
"You seem so sure of that," he said, pretending to take her seriously, amusement sparking in his eyes.
"Yes, because I am!" she exclaimed, paying the grumpy cashier whose eyes had widened at Draco's appearance, and taking her purchase. "This may be hard for you to comprehend, Malfoy, but I happen to be happy without you!"
"That is the biggest load of crap I've ever heard come out of your mouth, Hermione!" he exclaimed, emphasising her first name. "If I didn't know you so well I'd be inclined to believe you!"
Hermione sighed and turned to him.
"Stop saying that you know me! If you did, you'd leave me alone and get on with your life! I can't give you what you want!"
And with that, she walked out of the shop. For a split second, she thought she was off the hook, but her joy was short-lived. A moment later, Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her into a side alley so quickly that no one noticed. He pushed her up against the wall and leaned in to her.
"What I want," he said in a low tone. "Is you!"
"Well I can't give you that!" she retorted spitefully.
"You could if you wanted to!"
"And set myself up for heartbreak again? I don't think so!" As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she'd said the wrong thing. Great! She mentally scolded herself, open your heart to him, why don't you?
Draco eyed her carefully before moving so that he was in direct line of her gaze.
"Is that why you're with Weasley?" he asked her softly. "Because you know that you don't care enough about him for your heart to get broken?"
Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but somehow couldn't connect her brain to her tongue. Draco smirked down at her before releasing her arm and gently caressing her cheek with his finger.
"Is that why you won't let yourself come back to me, Hermione? Because you're scared I'll hurt you again?"
Hermione subconsciously leaned into his touch, though it was so light that she could just about feel it ghost over her skin. His breath tickled her nose, and she realised just how relaxed she was at that moment. She'd been convinced after they'd split up all those years ago that she'd never feel safe with him ever again - God only knew what he'd done as a death eater. But at that moment in time, she felt like she belonged with him. She seemed to fit with him in more ways than one. It didn't matter that he had her pinned up against a wall, or that she was vulnerable and at his mercy, because she didn't feel scared. She felt some sort of security within her that made her believe he wouldn't hurt her.
"Because you know I'd never do it again. I love you too much, and I understand what it means to lose you."
She felt herself fall for him all over again as each sweet word left his lips. He lent his forehead against hers and she allowed him to rest it there. She slowly lifted her free hand and ran it along the edge of his jaw. His eyes locked with hers and she almost let herself drown fully in the intense emotions that seemed to exude from them.
Almost.
She pulled back from him and dropped her hand, her mind suddenly starting to go back to its normal way of working. He looked at her in confusion and she couldn't help but feel a little guilty, though for what she wasn't sure.
"I've always known that you'd never hurt me physically, Draco. I still believe it to this day. But, I know for a fact that you can hurt me emotionally, and that scares me the most because knowing you, you won't even do it intentionally. But I can't take that risk. I won't. It's not worth it."
A moment later and she was back in the Burrow, with a head ache that centred around an entirely different issue.
