A/N: i'm feeling quite sad, cos this is the last chapter of this fic! as such, i want to thank EVERY single reader out there who has read, faved and waited patiently for this fic to come to its finale. it'll be tough to list down every single one of you, cos it'll be a long list, and i'll feel realllyyyy bad if i miss anyone out. so, once again, thank you to everyone! your reviews and comments kept me going until i managed to complete this piece. i love you guys!
and for now, i hope you all will like the ending(:
Draco looked over lazily at his wife, who was busying herself with a bunch of papers and a document bag across the room, from the couch he was lounging on. Astoria was dressed and raring to go. Unfortunately, her stuffs were not. Draco would have helped, if she had let him. A previous incident seemed to leave Astoria with the impression that Draco would just make finding things more difficult because everything would be all messed up. Since then, Draco had opted to simply let his wife hunt for her papers even if she needed them urgently. Like now.
"Ugh! We really should get a bigger file cabinet, honey!" Astoria exclaimed in frustration, slamming a locker drawer shut. She pulled out another one and quickly ran her slender, well-manicured fingers through the files, her eyes moving at equal speed. "And we should colour code the drawers." She pulled out a thick purple file as she spoke. Balancing it on her thigh, she flipped through the first few pages and with a satisfied sigh, dumped it onto the study table. The slam of a metal drawer followed. "Seriously. Your papers and mine… we simply have to cram them together because we have limited space. And when we're in a rush, it just gets soo troublesome!"
Her husband sighed. To be honest, it was not the first time they came across this problem. If it wasn't Astoria, it was Draco. As usual, Draco had agreed that they should get a new file cabinet. But somehow, they simply had not gotten round to buying a new one. It wasn't that Astoria was picky about furniture; in fact, Astoria's attitude towards life was to keep things simple, hardly in accordance to the Malfoys' lifestyle. Even after all these years of marriage, Astoria held strong to her principles.
"You know, I saw this cute plastic file cabinet when I was walking round in London," sometimes Draco did wonder how he could get married to such a talkative woman. "I thought of simply buying it, but then you said that you wanted an… let me quote you, ornate and classic wooden filing cabinet with ten spacious drawers."
Draco sighed. Sometimes Astoria could be so difficult. Getting up, he walked over to his wife and subtly steered her out. It was their way of reminding each other if one of them was late. Astoria received more of that treatment for obvious reasons.
"Fine, Tori, I'll get that cabinet from somewhere asap," Draco promised her wearily. They both knew the cabinet would never materialize. "Now, weren't you all huu-haa about having to get to St. Mungo's because one of your patients suddenly sprouted roots from all over his body?"
Astoria shoved the file into her briefcase, pulling her arm away from Draco's grip. She brushed back a stray strand of brown hair before turning to face her husband with a wide girlish grin on her face. "Adios, babe," she chirped, giving Draco a quick peck on the lips. She tapped his nose playfully. "Don't go mucking about when I'm gone."
Draco groaned. "Tori, I have work. I don't have time to shove around or muck about, whatever you call it. Now shoo. Off to work."
Astoria Floo-ed out of the Manor, leaving a faint twinkling laugh behind with the green smoke in their bedroom fireplace. Draco laughed silently to himself, shaking his head in amusement at his wife's action. That was one of the reasons he cherished Tori – she was always the bright-eyed Easter Bunny among the Malfoys' clan.
He casually flung open his wardrobe doors and strode through it. His grey eyes briefly studied the clothing on the left rack. His business suits were ironed and pressed and dutifully arranged on padded hangers at the front. His formal shirts followed suit. Finally, after the long line of formal wear, he reached the casual shirts section. He thumbed the hangers, occasionally pulling out a shirt to study it before putting it back again. Eventually, he chose a sky blue shirt and paired it with grey slacks and dark grey loafers. Smart and casual. Just the way he liked it.
He checked his reflection in the built-in full length diamond-encrusted mirror at the end of the walk-in wardrobe. He raked back his platinum blonde hair (that was now restored to its former glory thanks to Narcissa's hairdresser), stepped back into the day lighting and smiled. I look good, he thought smugly. Way to go, Draco. Hitting the forties and still looking oh-so-sharp. What did they label you as again in that Frachietti magazine? Sexiest Man in the Wizarding World.
That last part was almost the truth; he was ranked 6th out of a list of 30. But he wasn't too pleased with the photo they used. Although it was of him in his best suit – he had a tailor specially flown in from one of Milan's top fashion houses just to custom-made that navy blue double-breasted suit with polished silver buttons – his hair was still balding. Nevertheless, Astoria had that photo blown up in size and now it hung proudly from the wall beside her dresser.
Talk about a loving wife, he snorted as he made his way down the grand stairway of Malfoy Manor, his long slender hands pressing imaginary piano keys down the balustrade. And now, off to meet Mione. Wonder how she looks like now. He grinned widely. I bet she's still as pretty as ever!
XO XO XO XO
Hermione glanced impatiently at her silver bracelet watch. It was nearly 1.40pm. Her blond friend was nowhere in sight. Sighs. She hoped nothing much await her at the office later. One of the perks of being a high up employee at MOM was that your lunchtime was self-determined. The doors opened and in walked a tall, lean man. He had gained some weight since the past ten odd years, but otherwise he still looked fit. He looked around searchingly for a while, before his grey eyes landed on her. Hermione returned his warm smile and rose to give him a peck on the cheek.
"Still looking great, I see," Hermione commented wryly, sinking back into her seat. "Last time I saw you, your hair was thinning."
Draco touched his hair subconsciously. Hermione couldn't help noticing that that was one habit that never seemed to leave him. Grinning back, he shot back, "Oh well, the wonders of hairdressers and their magic. They can make you bald, or make all the hair on you grow." He paused their conversation for a while to look around for a waiter. He raised a hand and said sharply, "Ici, garcon."
A waiter by the door saw him and hurriedly weaved his way to Draco. Deep down, Draco felt smug; the Malfoys' trademark platinum blonde hair always did the trick. It commanded urgency and respect anytime. "Oui, monsieur?" the waiter wheezed.
Draco frowned. Probably the poor bloke had a bad case of asthma, or he had been sucking in too many hookahs. "Un espresso," he ordered in fluent French, his British accent completely overtaken by his French. "Et deux croissants. C'est tout."
Hermione was shaking her head at him when he turned back to face her. Feigning an affronted look, he asked, "What? Never heard people speak French?" he snorted. "For your information, I happen to be fluent in six languages. Minus Tengwar, although Tori has been forcing me to learn it. She sort of took a liking to that Muggle-invented elfin language. I presume that's more than you know, Granger…" suddenly it hit him. He forced himself to complete the sentence. "Weasley."
Hermione said nothing. Neither did Draco. They remained that way for a good five minutes, until Draco's orders came. It was only after the waiter left did Draco decided he should break the ice. Clearing his throat, he tried to sound as partial as possible, "So… how's life like with Ron Weasley? I heard from my son that you have two kids. Rose, I remember. And the little one. Hugo?"
The brunette half-smiled. "Yeah. Hugo's entering kindergarten soon. Kids sure grow up fast." She chuckled, but the laughter sounded too fake, even to her. Quickly, she changed the topic, "So… you and Astoria… only Scorpius?"
Draco toyed with his croissant. "Yeah, only lil Scorpius. Except that he ain't little anymore." Suddenly he beamed and looked at Hermione proudly. "He's gonna be like me! Not exactly, cos I don't want him to be a git. But he's gonna be successful, rich and sought-after, just like me."
Draco half-expected her to roll her eyes at him, but instead she regarded him with a smile. It was pleasantly weird – as in, she looked so radiant with that smile, but at the same time it creeped him out, as in there was a deeper meaning to it. Still, he pretended not to be too affected by it and went on to sip his espresso. Too long and too black. If he was younger, he would have demanded the manager to not only change the drink, but question why the coffee failed to fulfill his liking. But getting married – and getting older – had mellowed the dragon slightly.
"You know, if you'd been this nice ever since you were a kid, things could have been much better for the people around you, Malfoy," Hermione commented, still smiling. She sipped her orange juice before she spoke again, "What changed?"
The blond man suddenly stopped busying himself with his food. He gazed out of the café's windows for a while, absently watching the people on the street. Once he was done contemplating, he turned back to look at Hermione in the eye. He leaned in and whispered, "You. Your marriage."
Hermione stared back open-mouthed at him. Without waiting for her to nudge him to explain, he did it out of his own accord. Eleven years had been a long time. It was time to let her know.
XO XO XO XO
Draco's Story
When you got married, that's when I realize that I'm not good enough for you, because you chose Weasley over me. In fact, that was when I came to my senses and realized that hey, if I'm not good enough for you, then I'm not good enough for anyone. Ever wondered why you almost never heard from me at all for the next few years? I didn't stay in England, Mione. I spent those years in Germany. I only came back for my marriage announcement to Tori and our wedding, and even then it was a strictly-families affair. I only issued 1 photo Tori and me to be used publicly on each occasion, and I suppose you've seen them too.
Maybe you're wondering, why Tori? I won't lie about why I chose her and why I could love her as much as I love you – she reminded me so much of you. Her wit, the way she talks, her courage… she was everything a Slytherin our time should not have been. But it was her ambition to change the world that probably glued her to Slytherin. That, and her family. When I first saw her at Blaise's wedding to Daphne, I couldn't stop myself from thinking it was you with dyed blonde hair. That was the main reason I approached her. I didn't fall in love with her immediately after that, but I enjoyed spending time with her. It reminded me of the moments I enjoyed spending time with you. She got along well with Mother, although Mother was still mortified by the fact that she was a Healer and was not planning to quit anytime soon. Mother set the wedding date; I simply agreed.
After I married her, I saw a lot of you in her, and that made it much simpler for me to start loving her truly. But at the same time, all these years I've been wondering, do I really love her for being Astoria, or do I love her because of your traits in her? There were countless times when I shouldn't have mistaken her for you, but I did. I think you know what I mean; I don't have to spell it out to you in such a public place.
But when Scorpius came along, that's when I knew I should stop living too much in my memories. I was adamant to raise him well. My childhood was full of order, spite and prejudices. I didn't want Scorpius to have my childhood – I wanted him to have your childhood, which I supposed was more carefree, happy and loving. That's why I worked hard to change myself so my son wouldn't have to grow up to see his once-evil dad who didn't have a remarkable sense of humour. He grew up in Germany, and I had him schooled in Muggle schools to give him a sense of how to mix with people from all races and from all walks of life. As a father, I can say that I feel proud to see that my son is turning out to be a much better person than me. Isn't that what being a parent is all about? Wanting the best for your kids?
You can say that I changed because of you. I stayed away from England because of you. Maybe we were never meant to be together, I accept that fact. But I can't pretend that what we had never existed. I can't pretend that I don't love you, because I did, and I still do. But the both of us decided to partake different routes in life. I just never expected to cross paths with you again.
XO XO XO XO
Draco fell silent at this point in time, as if he was struggling to rein his emotions in. Then, finally, he spoke as casually and as unaffectedly as possible, "Other than that, my life is pretty normal. Broomstick business and that chocolate business I have for the Muggle front nowadays. I swear, one day I'm gonna create an edible broomstick that won't melt in the sun. That'll be cute." He flashed a wide smile at the guilt-ridden Hermione, "So what's your story like? But spare me your husband. I only recently found back my appetite eleven years ago."
Hermione forced herself to smile back at him. She forgot how much of a guilt-tripper he could be. She shut her eyes for a moment, inhaled deeply before launching into her edition of What My Life Was Like For The Past Eleven Years.
XO XO XO XO
Hermione's story
I know you don't know this, Draco, but I still keep your charisma till this very day. Surprised, aren't you? Ron had wanted me to dispose of it the moment we got married, but I simply refused. After all, why would I want to throw away something my friend gifted me? So yes, if you must know, it's in a corner in my room. I think it's still fluttering away right now.
Back then, I didn't know – didn't understand, in fact – why you suddenly vanished from my life right after my wedding. From the start, I felt hurt that I didn't hear from you at all after you went to Germany. I sent you letters, but I never got back a reply. I figured you were probably busy handling your company matters, so I convinced myself not to take it to heart. When you appeared at my wedding, I was so pleased. I had wanted to find the time to sit down and catch up with you. but you disappeared almost immediately after your song. I still remember the title, Forever Love. I had wanted to tell you, Draco, that it was one of the most beautiful song I've ever heard. But you were gone.
I tried to look for you for the following months, because I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing that I had no idea about the going-ons in your life, other than what was reported in the papers. I looked everywhere, but I simply couldn't find you. when I saw the announcement of your marriage to Astoria in the papers, I thought that maybe I should stop looking. Maybe you had wanted your own life, and maybe I didn't really matter that much to you.
But somehow, I still couldn't push our friendship aside just like that. So I guess, like you, it got incorporated into my daily life. I raised my kids in the wizarding world straight away, but I made it a point to drill into them that every single living creature in this world have equal rights and should be treated with equal respect. When I was selecting the colours for their bedroom, for some reason I was compelled to choose green, and silver. In the end, the kids made their own choice, but I had my study refurnished in green and silver. I didn't know what came over me back then, but suddenly I wanted some part of you back in my life.
You wouldn't know what it feels like to be in the dark and wondering about how your friend is faring almost every single day for the past eleven years. I wondered about how your wedding and your marriage was like, how you'd be like as a father. Would you be a stern figure, or would you be warm and open like Ron? Sometimes I imagined you right there on my lawn, running and playing with my kids or maybe reprimanding them for things that you might disapprove of. It entertained and humoured me, but it made me miss your friendship more.
I never had the chance to tell you, Draco. Perhaps I could have loved you, if we had the time, and if we had made the effort to. But like you said, we already decided which path of destiny to tread on. Still, I guess it wouldn't be too late for me to admit that yes, I do love you, Draco, as good friends should. You should have never doubted that. And at the same time, I'm sorry if I ever hurt your feelings. I know I did. I didn't mean to.
XO XO XO XO
Draco chuckled as he finished his espresso, much to Hermione's displeasure. Still retaining that sliver of a smile from just now, he gazed deep into his friend's eyes until their faces were inches apart. Hermione froze where she was. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. What was he going to do? Her skin tingled as he breathed, "Friends don't apologise – they just forgive."
As soon as he said it, he leaned back into his chair and smirked at Hermione. She did not know whether to be angry with him for keeping her in suspense, or to be relieved that he took things easy. She saw a flicker of sadness in his stormy grey eyes, but none of it was expressed from the casual grin adorning his face currently. Hermione understood him – it was not easy for any of them. But what was in the past had to remain in the past. They had to live for the present and the future.
She was caught by surprise when Draco extended his hand across the table, waiting for her to intercept it. She did, and he gripped it tightly, but only enough to apply a reassuring pressure on her hand.
"Let me reintroduce myself," Draco said candidly. "My name is Earl Squire Draco Malfoy, minus the Earl Squire. Coincidentally, I happen to be Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy's father. At this very moment, I believe, my son is trying to woo a pretty brunette in school."
Hermione giggled as she played along. "And my name is Lady Hermione Jane Granger-Weasley, minus Lady. I believe the pretty brunette you were talking about is my daughter, Rose Weasley."
Draco smirked. "I knew that. So, what colour are you planning to get for her wedding dress? Scorpius would like to see her in purple."
Hermione pretended to look horrified, but she could not help laughing to her words. "My daughter and your son? Never! Because I haven't asked her father yet, hehh."
The two of them caught each other's gaze, and then broke out into soft peals of laughter, oblivious to the stares of the other patrons. Eleven years of disconnected conversation suddenly wired up again. Deep down, both of them could feel their hearts flying. Maybe the passage of life had changed for them, maybe love in what Draco felt for her was out of destiny's cards, but nothing could stop them from being together again. This friendship was like a scattered set of jigsaw puzzle; now they could find all the pieces, it was time to piece them up again.
Of course, one piece of the puzzle remained missing. And that was the semblance of the permanent hole in Draco's heart from eleven years ago. If I managed to conceal it all this while, let me continue to conceal it till my grave. But would you ever know that, Hermione? Would you?
How do I get over you?
How do I survive living half the life that I knew?
How do I get over you?
When you take away everything I held to be true?
I wonder if you feel it too
Do you?
- How Do I by Lee Ryan
