A/N: Hello loyal readers! (And new readers!) I'm so sorry for this late update. You have no idea how hard a time I've been having closing the story out. I had the last few lines set in my mind, but the lead up to that point was rough. Anyway, it's finished! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Now, I just have to finish my other stories :P
Read, enjoy, review!
Plan D is for Draco
Part Four
Draco Malfoy is a dead man, Ginny Potter thought, as she listened to her friend weep in anguish as she told her story. The goal was to force Draco to realize that he needed to tell Hermione how he felt, not run off with another airheaded slut! Maybe he really isn't good enough.
"And the absolute worst part is that I had gone over there to tell him that I loved him, Ginny! I love him. I am in love with Draco Malfoy."
THREE DAYS AGO…
Hermione blinked, as if doing so would clear away the sight she couldn't believe was actually before her. Draco never brought women home with him. If he decided to sleep with some random girl he picked up in a pub, he always, always, went to their place. Candi, who, while nothing truly serious, had been the closest thing to relationship Draco had had in at least two years and even she had never seen his place. So to say that Hermione was surprised to see this…this…stranger in his home was an understatement.
"Oh. My. God!" the slut…er…girl suddenly exclaimed. "You're Hermione Granger! I can't believe I'm meeting you!" The girl took Hermione's limp hand and started shaking it vigorously up and down while going on about how her friends will just die as soon as they hear about her meeting someone as famous as she. Hermione couldn't respond. She couldn't move. It was as if her brain had ceased to function. She was seriously at a loss. Feelings of confusion, anger, sadness, disappointment, and, most of all, hurt invaded her body all at once. She couldn't be here anymore. She needed to get out of here.
"Anyway, so what are you doing here? Do you want to come in?" The girl was inviting her in like she owned the place!
"No," Hermione finally croaked out, her eyes already pricking with tears. "No, I seem to have made a mistake. I'll just be going now. Sorry for the interruption."
"Oh, you weren't…" But Hermione was already walking away as quickly as she could to the elevator. Too distraught to even think about Disapparating, Hermione walked home, which she realized now wasn't too far. On the way, it had begun to rain, which was just as well. No one could tell that she was crying.
DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH
No one had heard from Hermione in two days. Her floo had been blocked off, her wards had changed so that no one could Apparate within a 20 foot radius of her flat. (Thinking on it now, it was lucky that she lived in a mostly Muggle building otherwise that particular ward would have been problematic.) She unplugged her home telephone, switched off her mobile, and didn't even turn on her computer lest she see an errant email that might make her think about anything. All she could manage was the same cycle of eat, stare off into space, use the bathroom, sleep. And the eating part, she often forgot. She had called into work, which she had never done in her entire career, and, gracious hero worshippers that they were, informed her that she had racked up quite a bit of vacation time and that she should use it. So now, Hermione was technically on a two-month vacation.
Best vacation ever, she thought wryly.
Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by the pop of Apparition and a banging on her door. Her first thought was that maybe Draco had come by to apologize and her treacherous mind perked up. Then she realized how ridiculous that sounded; Draco didn't even know that she had come by that night, in fact, didn't even know that she was angry with him. The pounding continued and Hermione finally decided to drag herself up to answer it. She was just within arm's reach when she heard his voice.
"Hermione? It's me, Draco. Open up. There seems to be something wrong with your wards. I can't Apparate in." Hermione froze. Literally froze where she stood, arm about halfway to opening the door. All the feelings flooded back into her body, paralyzing her. She couldn't open the door. Couldn't even move her mouth to form the words, "Fuck off!" which she so desperately wanted to say.
"Hermione, are you there?" Draco asked. "Listen, I'm really worried about you. I haven't spoken to you in days. I know you're in there because you're not at work and I called Ginny, who said you weren't at hers either. I just wanted to make sure that you were all right." Hermione finally unfroze, only to slide down the door to listen to his melodic voice float through from the other side.
"I know I'm not very good at this whole sharing of feelings bit, but I do care, Hermione. I care, you know? And I hope that whatever is bothering you clears up soon. I…I miss you." And as Hermione listened to his footsteps as they walked away from her door, she felt her heart begin to throb and the tears stream down her face.
DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH
The very next morning, Hermione received a Howler from a very vocal Ginny Potter. To be honest, Hermione was amazed that it had taken Ginny this long. She let the owl in, who quickly dropped its missive on her kitchen table and took off without a snack. Smart bird, she thought. Hermione nibbled on her toast and stared dubiously at the bright red envelope, dreading what Ginny had to say. She quickly closed the windows and finished the spell to make her flat soundproof just as the envelope burst open and Ginny's shrieking voice filled the room.
"HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER! WHERE IN THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? DRACO, HARRY AND I HAVE BEEN WORRIED SICK ABOUT YOU! YOU CALLED IN SICK TO WORK WHEN YOU WERE PERFECTLY FINE LAST WEEK! AND I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT NEVER IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE HAVE YOU EVER CALLED IN SICK! YOU SHUT OFF YOUR PHONE, YOU CLOSED YOUR FLOO, YOU CHANGED YOUR WARDS, ALL WITHOUT ANY NOTICE OR WARNING WHATSOEVER! IF YOU HAVE DIED, NONE OF US WOULD KNOW AND I THINK THAT YOU'RE BEING VERY SELFISH FOR NOT TELLING US ANYTHING. I KNOW YOU'RE HOME BECAUSE THE DAILY PROPHET IS STILL RECEIVING PAYMENTS FROM YOU, SO I DEMAND AN EXPLANATION AS SOON AS YOU GET THIS LETTER, MISSY! AND YOU STILL NEED TO TELL ME ABOUT YOUR DATE WITH SEAMUS! IF IT WASN'T FOR THE FACT THAT HE'S BEEN COMING INTO WORK LOOKING DISAPPOINTED AND FORLORN, I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT THAT YOU TWO HAVE BEEN SHACKED UP TOGETHER IN YOUR FLAT ALL THIS TIME MAKING WILD MONKEY SEX! IF YOU DON'T REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE WITHIN THE NEXT 24 HOURS, I WILL PERSONALLY GO DOWN TO YOUR FLAT AND KNOCK YOUR DOOR DOWN WITH THE STRONGEST BOMBARDA I CAN MANAGE! AND THAT'S ONLY IF DRACO DOESN'T BEAT ME TO IT! SO YOU'D BETTER CALL EITHER MYSELF OR HIM IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU!"
Finally, Ginny's tirade ended at the Howler shriveled up into tiny, charred strips onto her table. She sighed heavily and swept up the mess with a napkin before cleaning up what remained of her pathetic breakfast of burnt toast and black coffee. Ginny was right, she knew; she was being very selfish not letting them know that she was perfectly fine except for her shattered heart. But didn't she deserve, just this once, to be able to be selfish? She had been bending over backwards to help everyone else her entire life, she felt that it was about time that she did something for herself. And the first thing she was going to do was go treat herself to a spa day.
After replying to Ginny, of course.
She quickly went into her office, wrote a short missive stating that she was fine, just needed some time to gather herself and would she be so kind as to give her a few days to herself, sent it off with her owl and walked out the door. Just down the road from her building was a salon that she had always passed by, but had never had the time to actually go in. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was just barely ten, so the place had just opened. She pulled open the door confidently, hoping that this was a sign that things were finally going to go her way.
The staff were very friendly and had a way of speaking that seemed to just calm her nerves. She started off with a facial, which cooled her skin and made her feel as if years of stress had just evaporated away. Next, she visited the waxing station, and, after blushing so hard she resembled Ginny's hair, told the woman to rid her of every single hair that wasn't growing from the top of her head. After that, she had a much needed massage and felt so relaxed, she nearly fell asleep on the table. After apologizing profusely, the kind masseuse calmly informed her that it happened all the time. After a few moments of debate, she finally decided on getting a hair cut. She had been wearing her hair the same way since as far back as she could remember; even before her Hogwarts days, her hair had always been boring, bushy, brown, parted down the middle with split ends scattered all over the place. Remembering the way the ditz at Draco's wore her hair, sleek and not a follicle out of place, Hermione stuck her chin up and told the hairdresser to do whatever she wanted.
"Just get rid of this mop!" she said, with the first smile she had allowed herself since that night. And thirty minutes later, Hermione felt like she was looking at a completely different person. And she hadn't even gone through make-up yet.
Her hair, while not exactly pin-straight, fell in a subtler manner, just barely passing her shoulders, in thick, shiny layers. The stylist had parted her hair a bit off to the side and added bangs, swept over her right eye. Also added were a few highlights, bringing out the color in her cheeks and her eyes, which were finally beginning to show signs of life again. So even if Draco ended up finding someone else, for the first time, Hermione felt that she could actually go out and feel like an attractive woman. Who knows, maybe she'll call up Seamus again. They had a nice enough time the other night, despite how it had ended.
She contemplated her options as she was escorted to make-up. The make-up artist was a thin, almost skeletal, man, who looked to be in his late twenties and had more sass than anyone she had ever met. She couldn't keep from giggling as the man, Arnold – "but no one except my mother calls me that, so call me Arnie" – regaled her with horror stories of making-up the rich and famous.
"So who are we dolling up for, hmm?" he finally asked after showing her how to correctly apply a fake eyelash. Hermione looked down at her hands and blushed.
"No one, really. There's just this guy…"
"Oh, sweetheart, there always is." Hermione smiled and continued on.
"Well, he's my best friend. And I was going to tell him that I realized that I've been in love with him all this time."
"…But…" Arnie drawled out.
"But…when I got there, another woman answered the door. And he never invites other women over!"
"What made you realize in the first place?" Hermione blushed harder.
"Actually, I was on a date with someone else and he had to tell me I was in love with Draco." Arnie froze.
"Draco? As in Draco Malfoy?" Hermione cocked her head to the side.
"You know of him?"
"Honey, everyone knows Draco Malfoy," Arnie gushed. "Muggle or not," he added with a whisper and a wink. Hermione relaxed, feeling more like she could be herself.
"Well, I assume, then, that you knew who I was this entire time." Arnie rolled his eyes.
"Of course, doll. I had elbow Frida and Mandy out of the way just to make sure I made it to you first." Hermione giggled.
"Well, I'm glad you did. I enjoyed talking to you. And thank you for the make-up lesson. I really needed it." Arnie waved his hand in the air as if brushing her statement away.
"Rubbish, you were stunning even before I touched you. Now you're ready to knock Mr. Malfoy dead off his feet."
"Oh, I don't know…" Arnie swiveled her around so she could look directly into the vanity mirror.
"Hermione, look at yourself. Judging by what I've seen in all the papers over the years, that boy is just as much in love with you as you've finally realized that you are with him. I don't have any explanation for the slut, but then again, neither do you. And you'll never know unless you go over there and tell him exactly what you want. The worst that can happen is that he'll say he's changed his mind and that would be his great loss." Hermione stood and smiled before giving Arnie a hug.
"Thank you for everything, Arnie."
"Yes, well, you'll need to come back in two weeks for a touch up on those roots anyway. Let me know how everything goes."
After paying and leaving a hefty tip, Hermione walked out of the shop feeling lighter and more confident than she had ever felt before. She impulsively hopped on the tube and decided to stop at Oxford Street for some serious retail therapy. It only made sense to get a new wardrobe to go with her new look. She almost wished that she had called Ginny so she could get a second opinion on things. And for a second, she wished that she had Draco with her, who never had any problem telling her what looked good and what didn't. She sighed, once again telling herself that this was her day, and she wasn't going to spend it thinking about anyone else.
She bought skirts that rode a bit higher than she was used to, slacks that fit more snugly than she had worn them before, and dresses that were much flirtier than she had opted for in the past. She tried on blouses that were cut lower than she might have been comfortable with, shoes that were much higher than she thought she'd ever wear and even threw in some lingerie. She only stopped when she felt she could carry no more and hailed a cab to take her home. Glancing at her watch, she realized that it was nearly six and she hadn't eaten anything since that poor excuse for a breakfast that morning.
She pulled out her mobile and switched it on for the first time in nearly a week. Immediately, she noticed that her voicemail inbox was full. She rolled her eyes and listened to them, promptly deleting the few that were left by Draco as soon as she heard his voice. Most of the others were left by Ginny, but there were a few that were from Harry, one from Seamus and one from Ron. At that one, Hermione rolled her eyes and deleted his message before he had finished saying he was sorry. Sorry, not falling for that this time, she thought with gleeful satisfaction.
She finally made it home and the driver helped her with her bags, thanking her when she included a nice tip with her payment. As soon as she walked into her flat, she noticed the mess she had made over the past few days as she walked around like a zombie robot. She immediately went into cleaning mode and wiped everything down, picked everything up, even vacuumed, all before she put away her shopping. She even managed to pull out all the clothes she decided she'd never wear again and packed them in a garbage bag, decision about what was to become of them to be made at a later date.
It was half eight when Ginny finally called her. After listening to a second rendition of her tirade, Hermione accepted an invitation to a late dinner at the Potter residence. (Both Harry and Ginny worked late that night, the former on a tough Auror case, the latter on deadlines she had been procrastinating on.) She Apparated into their living room and was immediately engulfed in a hug by a flash of red hair.
"Don't ever disappear like that again!" she scolded. "We were all worried sick!"
"So you've said," Hermione said with a chuckle. Ginny took a step back and took in Hermione's appearance.
"You look good. But judging by the looks that both Seamus and Draco have been carrying around this week, this isn't for either of them. Hermione, have you been hiding something…or someone from me?" Hermione laughed again.
"No, I just decided to treat myself to a spa day with a bit of retail therapy today." Ginny gave her a look.
"Sounds serious. But tell me after dinner. I'm starved!"
The three of them sat down to a wonderful pasta dinner that Ginny had quickly made up. They all talked about how work had been going and Hermione was given updates on how everyone in the Wesley family was doing. As Harry cleared the table and brought out dessert, Ginny's eyes became excited. Hermione sensed that she had news, but seeing as how lately Ginny had been making her a personal project, Hermione wasn't sure if it would be good or bad.
"Hermione, one of the reasons we decided to have you over tonight, I mean, aside from making sure you were alive," Ginny began. Hermione rolled her eyes at her dramatics.
"Well, we have some news," Harry finished. Realization dawned on Hermione and she knew what they were going to say before the words even left their lips.
The gaze that they gave each other was familiar; the gaze that her parents had in their eyes in that second picture of their mantle.
"We're having a baby!" they said in unison. Hermione began to tear up and quickly rose to give each of her friends a hug and a kiss in congratulations. But while she was so happy for them, that feeling of melancholy that she had been feeling all week began to sneak back up on her. When will she ever feel that love? She had said that she had wanted to feel every kind of love there was, but she had yet to grasp the one that she had only realized days ago. At the very least, she needed to tell Draco that she loved him. Perhaps Arnie was right; what if there was more to the story than what she had seen? Although, what she had seen was pretty damning.
"Hermione?" Ginny's voice brought her back to the present, happy moment. "Are you all right?" Hermione looked at the happy couple, currently showing concern and, once again, began to tear up.
"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. I'm just so happy for you!" Ginny narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Damn her for knowing her so well.
"Okay…" Ginny dragged out the word, causing Hermione to squirm in her seat. How did Ginny always manage to make her feel like a child with a secret? She wasn't a mother quite yet! "Why don't you tell me about your date with Seamus then?"
Harry, wise man that he was, chose that moment to retreat to the kitchen to start on the dishes. Ginny settled into her chair as Hermione hesitantly began going over the events of the night. Twenty minutes later, she was ruining her makeup, tears coursing down her face, remembering the pain of opening the door and finding another woman in her domain.
Yes, Draco Malfoy was hers, damn it, and that woman was definitely trespassing!
"…I am in love with Draco Malfoy." A sudden clatter startled the two women, who were so totally engrossed in their conversation that they hadn't noticed when another person had entered the flat.
"You're…you're what?" The women turned to the new guest and Hermione turned scarlet.
"Um…hello…" she greeted, weakly.
DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH
THREE NIGHTS AGO…
This was a bad idea, Draco thought, as, yet another ditzy, yet attractive, and most probably gold-digging woman sauntered up next to him, rubbing her, most probably fake, breasts against his uninterested person. He rolled his eyes and moved further down the bar, nursing his Firewhiskey, wishing more than anything for Hermione to be sitting right next to him. Feelings aside, Hermione was great at acting as a buffer between him and the riff-raff. He snorted into his drink, remembering that Hermione was the reason he was drinking here, alone, in the first place. Hermione and sodding Finnegan. He sighed and stared hard at the scarred wood of the bar, tracing over some vulgarities that some drunken sods had thought clever to carve into the surface.
"Heavy sigh, heavy heart," a voice to his left quietly said. Draco slowly turned, already weary of this game these women were playing.
"Quite," he said shortly. The woman tilted her head to the side, seeming more curious than calculating.
"Would you like to talk about it? I'm a great listener." Draco studied the woman next to him. She was pretty, he could say. There seemed to be a bit more intelligence in her eyes than the iota the rest of the women who had approached him tonight seemed to share. And it could just be that he was in a self-pitying mood, but she seemed to actually care than he was a bit down. And, what the hell, he could always blame it on the alcohol later. He took a deep breath and began telling this complete stranger his story.
"See, there's this woman…" he started. The woman's smile seemed to falter a bit, but she nodded for him to continue.
"There's this woman, and she's been my best friend for the past five years, now. And for the past five years, I've been completely in love with her."
"Does she know this?" Draco took another long drink, emptying the glass, before motioning to the bartender for another. If he was going to get this story out, he might have to be pissed drunk.
"Of course she doesn't. I've been too stupid, too much of a coward to tell her. Besides, she's been with that sodding plonker up until a month ago."
"Well, why didn't you tell her then? She's single now, right? Maybe now is your chance." Draco shook his head and tossed back another shot, relishing the numbing burn as it trickled down his throat.
"Nope, can't. Not good enough."
"What's not good enough?" Draco was really starting to feel it. He laughed at the girl's statement. Wow…when did her twin get here?
"Not what, you bint. Me. I'm not good enough for her. Fucking perfect Hermione Granger is too good for Draco." The girl tilted her head to the side again, her look just as calculating as the rest. Draco, in his drunken state, didn't notice. He simply motioned to the bartender for another drink.
"I think he's had enough," the bartender said gruffly to the girl. "I think it's about time you take him home." The girl turned to Draco, smiling sweetly.
"Come on, Draco. Let's go home." Draco shook his head.
"Don't wanna go home. 'Cause then I'll think 'bout 'Mione and stupid Fin'gan." The girl continued to tug on his arm until he began to follow.
"It's okay, Draco. Take us to your place and I'll help you forget."
They stumbled out the door and Draco somehow managed to get them back to his place. After trying, and failing, to use his keychain to open the lock, the girl gently took the keys out of his hand and opened his door, leading him into his flat. Leaving the girl behind, Draco went straight to the loo where he proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet. After that sobering experience, he rinsed out his mouth and took a Pepper-Up Potion to stave off the last effects of the alcohol. He stayed in the bathroom for a little while longer, simply staring at his reflection, disgusted by his behavior. No more, he vowed. Tomorrow, when Hermione came to tell him about her date, good or bad, he was going to tell her he loved her and pray to every deity, Muggle and Magical alike, that she felt the same way.
He exited the bathroom just in time to hear the door shut. He hoped that his guest had taken the hint and let herself out. As the girl came into view, he froze. There she was, standing by his front door, wearing his favorite shirt. A shirt that Hermione had given him, hence why it was his favorite.
"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, deadly calm. The girl giggled.
"I'm helping you forget, Draco. Don't you remember?" She began to slink towards him in what he assumed was supposed to be a sexy manner. All it did was increase his anger with every approaching step.
"I don't need your help in that regard. In fact, the only thing I want to forget is this entire night, and that includes ever meeting you, you skanky bint. Please remove my shirt, put your own clothes back on and leave. Now." The girl huffed and quickly turned to do as he said, slamming the door behind her. Draco sank into the sofa, rubbing his hands down his face.
Note to self, never get pissed in public without a chaperone.
DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH
He hadn't heard from Hermione in two days. He had assumed that she would come running to him immediately after her date, with either good news or bad. Of course, he had hoped that it had gone badly because even if he wasn't in love with her and wanted her for herself, she should not, could not, find her happily ever after with feckin' Finnegan. He had waited a day, a sick feeling filling him up as he came up with multiple scenarios as to why she wasn't able to call him immediately after her date had ended.
Maybe it didn't end? Maybe they got on so well that he had taken her straight to bed and they haven't stopped going at it since?
Draco shook his head. Hermione wasn't like that.
Maybe on they've been involved in some freak accident and no one has found their mangled bodies yet.
While he didn't care if Finnegan survived, Draco's stomach twisted in knots as he imagined Hermione's body left in a ditch somewhere, all the life gone from her brilliant eyes. He began to pace around his flat, hoping – praying – that she would call and let him know that she was all right.
After the second day of not hearing from his best friend, he decided to man up and try to contact her himself. He tried Apparating over, but found himself unable to. Not so strange since she often did so when she had a particularly nasty row with Weasley. Maybe her date went horrible. Draco couldn't help but feel gleeful at that thought.
Anyway…
Floo was out since it made sense to shut off both it and the Apparition wards. He picked up the mobile that he only really used to call Hermione and hit the speed dial for her number.
Straight to voicemail.
He left a message, knowing that his confusion was very apparent in his tone. My, either the date went as bad as any date could go or Ron was trying to harass her again.
He called her home phone and it was off the line.
He sent her a few emails and they were left unanswered.
He called the Potters, still unsure as to why he had their number in the first place, looking for Hermione. Ginny had answered and went into a twenty minute rant about how worried she was that Hermione hadn't contacted them in days. She had even called out sick to work! That, more than anything, concerned him. Hermione never called out sick. Not even the time she had such a bad flu, she couldn't breathe out of her nostrils and he had spent the afternoon dragging a humidifier behind her as she puttered around her office. They had ordered in soup and Draco had to go out for more tissues twice, but it was worth it to be able to take care of this woman who was so reluctant to ask others for help. Even when he had caught her flu and was sicker than she a week later, it was worth it.
He sighed heavily, knowing that even if it was a pain in the ass, he would go through the trouble anyway because he wanted to see her. So he got dressed, hailed a taxi and rode the ten minutes to her apartment building, climbed up four flights of stairs and knocked on her door.
"Hermione?" he called through the closed door. "It's me, Draco. Open up. There seems to be something wrong with your wards. I can't Apparate in." He paused, allowing her to realize that it wasn't Finnegan or Weasley at the door, so it would be safe to answer. But there was no reply. Maybe she was asleep?
"Hermione, are you there?" Draco called again. He pressed his ear against the door to listen for movement. He caught the light rasp of fabric shifting. She was listening at the door, but not opening it. Draco's brow furrowed in concern. She'd never been so distraught over a fight with Ron that she refused his company. "Listen, I'm really worried about you. I haven't spoken to you in days. I know you're in there because you're not at work and I called Ginny, who said you weren't at hers either. I just wanted to make sure that you were all right." Still no answer. Maybe she was angry with him? Maybe Ginny was right and she did feel the same way about him as he for her. Or at least marginally, because he didn't think anyone loved another person as much as he loved Hermione. (Oh, God, shoot me now for that sappy thought.) And now she was upset with him because he still hasn't said anything. He sighed and thumped his forehead against the door.
"I know I'm not very good at this whole sharing of feelings bit, but I do care, Hermione." While he wouldn't tell her he loved her until he could see her face, he could at least let her know that he cared. "I care, you know? And I hope that whatever is bothering you clears up soon. I…I miss you." He waited a few more moments to see if she would finally open the door. When she didn't, he knew that it was something he did. But what was it? Hermione had never been so angry with him that she refused to talk to him. This was killing him. He needed to find out what he had done and apologize. With a plan beginning to form, he walked away from her door, only looking back once. It still remained closed.
DHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDH
It was three o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon. Day three without hearing from Hermione. He still couldn't figure out what it was that he was supposed to have done. He had gone by her flat again earlier that day and her neighbor had mentioned that she had seen Hermione leaving the building that morning and had yet to see her return. Draco shoulders sagged. He walked around aimlessly for a while, before deciding that he might as well get some work done. He hadn't done anything yesterday, too busy worrying about Hermione. Maybe the work would distract him.
It must have worked a little too well, though, because it was almost eight o'clock at night when Ginny called asking if he wanted to have a late dinner at their house. Hermione would also be there. In the entire time that he and Hermione had been friends, the Potters had never personally asked him over for dinner. Sure, he often tagged along with Hermione, but this was the first time that he was actually extended his own invitation. He agreed, but let Ginny know that he may be late. There was no way he was going to show up for dinner, in front of Hermione, looking like he had slept in the clothes he was wearing. Yes, he had indeed worn the clothes to sleep and had simply rolled out of bed, which is why he needed to change. If he was going to have to apologize to Hermione, he wanted to look his best. He ended up showing up almost an hour late to dinner, but shrugged it off since he hadn't come for food, anyway.
He knocked on the door of Grimmauld Place, a dozen red roses (for Hermione) and a bottle of white wine (for Ginny) in hand, and was escorted in by an old and feeble looking Kreacher. He made his way through the old house towards the dining room when he was stopped in his tracks at the sight before him.
Ron Weasley was red in the face, quickly turning to purple, which happened often when he and Draco were in the same room. Hermione and Ginny were sitting at the table, the former looking guilty and the latter looking as if she might vomit.
"Excuse me," Ginny said, quickly running out of the room and into the nearest loo. He winced as he heard her retching and heaving.
"I hope you two didn't eat the same thing. It doesn't sound like it's sitting well with her," he said, breaking the awkward silence.
"She's pregnant," Hermione replied quietly.
"Ah." He supposed he could keep the wine for himself, then.
"Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing here, ferret?" Weasley did always have a way words.
"I was invited, of course."
"By who? As far as I've heard, Hermione isn't speaking to you and my sister or Harry wouldn't have invited you within twenty meters of their house."
"Actually, Ron," Ginny started icily as she returned from the loo. "I invited Draco. Who invited you? As I recall, I'm not speaking to you."
"Er…that was me," Harry piped in sheepishly. Ginny rolled her eyes. Typical male, always meddling.
"Why are you here, Ron?" Hermione asked wearily, relaxing back in her chair, rubbing her temples. Draco used to do that for her, for she often got migraines when Ron was getting on her nerves.
"Well, I came to apologize. I even brought you flowers." Hermione opened her eyes and took a short glance at the wilting bouquet of daisies. Hermione then stole a glance at the bouquet Draco held, her breath catching in her throat.
"And why are you here, Draco?" she asked quietly. Draco smirked.
"I came to apologize. I even brought you flowers." He took three long strides towards her before kneeling so they were eye level.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. I don't know what I did to make you stop speaking to me, but I am sorry. Please, let me make it right." Hermione's face grew red as a bit of wariness reappeared in her eyes.
"Excuse me, but I believe I was here first, Malfoy," Ron protested, his ire growing with each word. "But I can see I shouldn't have bothered because I don't want to get back with a lying, cheating, slut, like you, Hermione. You've been cheating on me with the ferret this entire time, haven't you?" Hermione shot up, fury in her eyes.
"How dare you!" But before she could say more, Draco swung and Ron hit the floor.
"What the fuck was that for, Malfoy?"
"Because you disgust me, Weasel. You stand there, and in the same breath that you lamely attempt to apologize, you call Hermione a cheating slut. That's a bit like the cauldron calling the kettle black, isn't it?"
"What's he talking about?" Harry interrupted.
"Ron cheated on me," Hermione said, her voice never wavering. Draco turned to look at her and saw the same woman he saw on the battlefield: a woman of strength, who wasn't going to let anyone treat her unfairly. He saw a woman that he hadn't seen in a long time, thanks to the stupid tosser than was massaging his quickly bruising jaw on the floor.
"Ron…" Harry began, his tone full of disappointment. "You told me it was a just a misunderstanding. That you'd made a small mistake and you wanted to fix things for good." Ginny scoffed.
"Yeah right. They were together for years and he never even hinted at proposing."
"But it was a misunderstanding, Hermione. She meant nothing to me. I love you." Hermione's eyes narrowed.
"You don't love me, Ron. And this wasn't the only time you've done this. You've made it very obvious that you don't want commitment when you decided to stick your willy into every easy female you could find." Hermione was shouting now and breathing heavily. Ron began to take steps backwards, cowering in fear. "So excuse me, Ronald, but you can take your apology and shove it…"
"Whoa, okay, Hermione. Let's calm down." Draco took her by the shoulders and eased her away, leading her to the library. He sat her down gently, coaxing her to take deep breaths.
"Thanks," she whispered when she had calmed down.
"Feel better?" he asked, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. Hermione looked up and her eyes narrowed.
"Not really. I'm still mad at you, you know." Draco sighed and pulled up a chair to sit across from her.
"No, I didn't know, Hermione. Because you won't talk to me." Hermione blushed and looked at her hands in her lap, knowing he was right.
"I went to your house a few nights ago. A woman answered the door." Draco allowed himself a sigh of relief.
"Is that all?" Hermione pulled away from Draco, stomping away as far away as she could without actually leaving the room.
"Draco, I went all the way to your place, after a date with another, perfectly nice man, to tell you…well, it doesn't matter…and another woman answers the door in the shirt that I bought you for your last birthday. And all you can say is, 'is that all'?" Draco crossed his arms across his chest.
"Why does that upset you? You know I'm hardly celibate. You were just commenting on it last week, in fact. So why does the fact that a woman other than yourself was in my flat, wearing whatever she was wearing?"
"Because you never bring women home!" Hermione exclaimed, spinning back around. "You've always said that the only women that have seen the inside of your home were your mother and…and…" Hermione trailed off, her cheeks becoming rosy, knowing how she sounded. Draco strode slowly over to her, closing the space between them.
"And you, Hermione." Draco watched her neck muscles move as she swallowed.
"Yes. And me."
"So…you still haven't answered my question," Draco said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Why does that bother you?"
"Because…"
"You know that's not an answer, Hermione." She avoided his eyes and stayed silent. He needed a different approach.
"What were you going to tell me, Hermione?" She looked up, her eyes suddenly panicked.
"What? I wasn't…"
"You said you came over that night to tell me something. What was it?" Hermione opened her mouth, but then immediately shut it again and shook her head, pushing past him.
"It hardly matters now."
Hermione was trying very hard not to cry. The worst part was that she wasn't exactly sure why she wanted to cry. Was it because she was still a bit envious over Ginny's pregnancy? Was it because Ron had walked in just as she was confessing that she was in love with another man? And why would she be upset about that? Was it because she felt guilty? That maybe the reason Ron had cheated on her was because deep down, he knew that she wasn't really as committed to him as they thought? Was it because Draco, despite not knowing what he had done wrong, had come all the way, with her favorite flowers no less, to apologize? Was it because she still felt the rawness of not being able to measure up to the woman that had answered his door? Or was it because she knew that if he was still seeing other women, he couldn't possibly be in love with her, too?
"Hermione," Draco called quietly, still standing on the other side of the library.
"What?" she said shakily.
"You don't have to believe me, but what you thought you saw…it wasn't anything." Hermione scoffed. Draco ignored it and continued on.
"I was drunk. She followed me home, thinking she could take advantage of my state. I came home, took a Pepper-Up Potion to sober up and when I came out, she was standing there, in my favorite shirt." Hermione turned slightly towards him.
"It's your favorite shirt?"
"Well, my next favorite after the one you knicked from me last week." Draco returned the small smile that Hermione couldn't hide. He began to close the space between them again, coming close enough to brush up against her back. Her hip just barely grazed the front of his trousers and he hissed, bringing his hands up to hold her hips in place. Hermione gasped, her cheeks turning rosy. He bit back a groan. She really had no idea what she did to him.
"I sent her away. I don't even know her name. And then I had planned on telling you something, too. But then you weren't speaking to me." Hermione turned completely around and looked into his eyes.
"Is it the same thing that I wanted to tell you?" Draco smiled.
"I don't know, you haven't told me, yet." Without warning, Hermione threw her arms around Draco's neck and brought his lips down to meet hers. Draco wasn't stupid; he immediately responded, wrapping his arms fully around her small waist.
And it was everything Hermione had always wanted in a kiss. It was sweet, yet passionate at the same time. His lips were soft and warm, not chapped like Ron's often were. He didn't slobber and didn't poke his tongue around her mouth like it was a slimy eel. Draco teased at her lips with both tongue and teeth, a particularly sharp nip causing her to gasp. Draco's tongue caressed against her own, entwining itself with hers. And the whole time, his hands didn't move from her waist, even though her nipples puckered, aching to be touched. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he broke away to trail a few kisses to her ear and then simply held her.
"I missed you." Hermione laughed lightly. She refused to call it a giggle.
"We've only been apart for, what? Three days?" Draco's arms tightened around her in response.
"And it was the worst three days of my life."
"Draco…" Hermione pulled away so she could see his face. And that look that she had been so ignorant of was right there. He wasn't trying to hide it and she wondered how she could have missed it all these years.
"I love you," she blurted out. Draco froze.
"You do?" Hermione smiled.
"Of course, I do. Why wouldn't I?" Draco looked down, his brow furrowed.
"Well, because…I'm…me."
"Yes? And?" Draco looked up and met her gaze. For the first time since she had become friends with Draco, she saw vulnerability there. In an instant, she thought back to all the times that Draco had said that he wasn't good enough for her, that he would never deserve her. All those times, Hermione had thought he was simply trying to make her feel better. But it was very apparent that he truly thought those things.
"Draco, you can't possibly believe that I'm really too good for you, do you?" Draco shrugged.
"I don't know, aren't you?" Hermione took a step back and set her fists on her hips.
"Now, you listen here, Draco Malfoy. I've finally admitted to myself, and now to you, that I've been in love with you for the past five years. And do you know why?" Draco stared at her, still amazed that those three words were finally being directed at him. And, yes, he had imagined that she would be saying them in this way: matter-of-factly, her arms akimbo, in full lecture mode. He knew it was incredibly disturbing to be aroused at this moment, but his rationalization was that this was Hermione Granger in her element. Hermione in her purest, truest form.
"I love you," she continued, "because you are, one, incredibly intelligent." Now she was ticking his positive attributes on her fingers, reciting them as if she was reading off a list of ingredients for the Cure for Boils. Hot.
"I find the fact that I can carry on a conversation with you without having to stop and explain myself incredibly refreshing." Draco smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, settling into a squishy chair. This could take a while, not that he was trying to be smug about it or anything. Okay, lies…he totally was.
"Two, you've never tried to sugar coat anything for me. I appreciate that you treat me like an equal and not like a delicate flower. If I look horrible, you tell me. If I look wonderful, I trust your word because you would always tell me if I looked otherwise. And on the rare occasion that I'm wrong about something," she paused, allowing herself an amused smirk, which he returned. Ha, Granger wrong about something? If ever such a thing happened, Hell would freeze over and the Apocalypse would be nigh. "If I was ever wrong about anything, I can trust you to tell me.
"Third, in your own way, you show me you care. You take care of me when I'm sick, which is more than Ron had ever done." She was interrupted by a loud, "Hey!" from the other side of the closed library door. With a roll of his eyes, Draco lazily pointed his wand at the door and muttered, "Silencio," which was followed by an irritated pounding at the door. Hermione, with short, irritated movements, waved her wand and the pounding stopped.
"Maybe I should have cast a Silencing Charm when we started." Draco raised an eyebrow as if to say, "You think?" Hermione shook her head and continued on.
"Yes, you took care of me, you never let me pay for my own dinner or at the cinema, which I wouldn't have minded, but I appreciate that you take charge." Hermione blushed. "It's kind of a turn on, really." Draco's eyes darkened and Hermione's breath quickened in response. She needed to wrap this up."
"And don't think that I didn't know you were letting me ruin your shirts and pillows. I know that you know it makes me feel better." Draco stood and was standing dangerously close again.
"And lastly, I love you because even while I was with a lying, cheating, weasel, even knowing that I could have done much better by being with you, you never pushed or took advantage of me, or gave me any ultimatums, because I know you value our friendship as much as I do." Draco nodded, still just looking at her, not touching. Somehow, he knew she still wasn't done.
"Can I ask you something?" Draco gave her one, slow nod. "Why didn't you stay?" He knew that she was talking about that morning after at Hogwarts. And there were so many different answers to that one question, he didn't know where to start.
"Did you want me to stay?" he asked instead.
"Well, I understand why you wouldn't have wanted to. It was just a one-time thing, right? And I know that it couldn't have been that great, I didn't even know what I was doing. I didn't have the experience you did and it's not like I expected anything to come out of it. I just thought…" He finally cut her babbling off with a rough kiss.
"Hermione," he breathed out when he finally came up for air again. "That night was perfect." He swallowed deeply, ready to finally tell her the secret he had been keeping for years.
"I couldn't have asked for a more perfect first time." Hermione frowned immediately.
"You don't need to lie, Draco, especially not now. I knew your reputation." Draco shook his head.
"Lies. I mean, I knew what I was doing in theory and I had…experimented. But that was the first time I had ever…er…practiced." Hermione blushed, knowing that he was telling her the truth ."I'm not going to lie and say that I was completely innocent, but that was my first real experience." She blushed harder, feeling incredibly turned on with the knowledge that they had both been each other's firsts.
"And to answer your question," he continued on in a voice barely above a whisper. "I never wanted to leave. But then Weasley's stupid owl came and ruined the morning after and I knew you were going to go back to him. I didn't think you were meant for me. So I packed my stuff, left and thought that it would be easier to just remain friends and forget it ever happened." He took her hands in his and looked into her eyes.
"But let me tell you, Hermione, it was absolutely agonizing to watch you go back with that oaf. I knew then, just as I know now, that I love you." Hermione knew it was coming, but even still, she felt the tears spring to her eyes.
"Up until now, I thought that I couldn't have you and that you would never return my feelings, so I kept it to myself. I pretended that it was no big deal tried to move on. Plus, believe it or not, I was afraid." Hermione laughed a bit through her tears.
"Afraid? You?" Draco returned her amusement with a crooked smile.
"Yes, I was. You were Hermione Granger, decorated war hero. I was just Draco, the bloke who narrowly avoided Azkaban on a technicality of age. And on top of that, I was also a Malfoy, the scion of a family whose name was being dragged through dirt everyday, no matter how hard I work to build it back up to some semblance of respectability. I didn't want to bring you into the mess that was my life. I was afraid that even if you did return my feelings, I would somehow fall short.
"I'll never be an easy person to be with. People will question you for being with me. And maybe even accuse you of fraternizing with the enemy. They'll judge you, harass you, and give you a hard time. I didn't want that for you and I was willing to be selfless for once in my life and let you go. Simply being your friend was good enough for me." Hermione blinked a few times to clear up the tears.
"Well, we've both admitted we love each other, and I'm free of Ron. So where does that leave us now? Do you still want to be…friends? Is that what you're saying?" Hermione's heart thumped hard in her chest. She wasn't sure she'd like to remain just friends anymore. Draco chuckled and drew her in close, allowing her to feel the effect she was having on him. Oh my.
"Hell no, Granger. From now on, I'm going to be selfish. You're mine and fuck anyone who objects." And with that, he dipped down to cover her mouth with his again.
It was hardly romantic and she could hear the pounding on the door since her Silencing Spell wore off, but she couldn't help but think that this moment was absolutely perfect.
A/N: And there it is! This was incredibly difficult to write, probably because I knew it was ending. :(
It has so far been my favorite story to write. I have no idea where the idea came from, really. I, myself, have all male best friends, but I have never experienced a situation such as this. Chalk it up to an active imagination, I suppose.
The relationship between Ron and Hermione, however, can be firmly based on a personal experience. And while I didn't exactly have a Draco to come save me, there was still a knight ready to come pick me up after that nasty situation.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please feel free to message me any time with your thoughts on this or any of my other works. If you feel that I could have done something to make this better, by all means, tell me about it.
Keep an eye out for an epilogue and stay awesome!