CHAPTER 16

September 17th 2001

Draco Malfoy knew the moment that Astoria Greengrass, his shared receptionist, walked into his office levitating his morning pot of tea that he did not make a wise decision to sleep with her over the weekend. Spending the night with her was one thing, but letting her tell him about Granger's secrets was going too far.

After their gossip affair, Draco had felt too guilty to stay any longer in Astoria's apartment. He went home to wallow in his regret. The rest of his weekend was filled with cleaning the studio, in hopes that it would clean his conscience.

There was a giddiness to the witch's smile as she carefully placed the tray on his desk. Almost as if she knew the torment she caused him. The Daily Prophet was folded in half perfectly next to his milk and honey.

"Thank you, Astoria." He nodded, pulling his chair further into the desk. The scraping of the legs on the floor pierced his ears for a Monday morning.

"Is there anything else I can get for you before your board meeting Mr Malfoy?" She asked, perching herself onto the desk, feet crawling up and down the inside of his trousers.

Astoria may make him hard. But she did not make him weak.

"No, Miss Greengrass. That will be all." Draco was firm with his tone, moving his legs out of her reach, not wanting to do any more damage than he already had. A cold shoulder was the best plan of approach he had come up with over the weekend.

A frown crossed her forehead, unsure of his change in attitude towards her since Saturday night. Clearing her throat and jumping off the desk, Astoria made her exit without another word. She knew where she stood and the mistake they had made. Draco admired that she wasn't desperate.

Pouring his milk into the boiled water, Draco flipped over the newspaper to reveal the cover page. The milk jug clanged against the tray at his sudden loss of grip.

WAR HEROES TO WED IN DECEMBER

Screamed the bold black title. Sub-texting below read,

'Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger Announce Wedding Date For Early December During Romantic Engagement Celebration'

A moving photograph of the couple boomeranged back and forth of their slow dance after Weasley's speech. It had appeared that after Draco's getaway, he had missed a rather important stamp upon the engaged couple's timeline.

Draco waited for the illness to overwhelm him like it did that on the balcony. But the motion of wanting to throw up never arrived. Instead the shaky hand that held the Daily Prophet dropped the thick parchment on the tray. A surge of jealous rage began to brew inside him.

It was dawning on Draco that he had caught himself in a trap he couldn't escape. He was going to have to live out the rest of his days watching a witch he had slowly but surely fallen in love with, create a life with someone else.

Rising to his feet, the Malfoy heir took his time strolling over to his office door that had remained open from Astoria's prior entrance. He called out across the foyer with a steady voice, "Miss Greengrass, I will be in my office for quite some time and I do not wish to be disturbed until I inform you otherwise. Please cancel my future appointments until lunch time."

The calm before the storm.

Not waiting for a confirmation, Draco closed his office door with a gentle 'click'. He pulled his wand out of the inside of his robes and cast a silencing spell over the room.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped onto the unicorn haired wood. Sucking in a deep breath, Draco released a loud noise from the back of his throat that could only be described as animalistic. Pain screaming from the depths of his lungs into the acoustics of the room.

Everything within him was infuriated.

Casting angry spells to items across the organised office, Draco watched the sparks of his curses break and burn everything in his sight. He pictured the face of Ron Weasley spread across all that he pointed at. A replacement for cursing the lazy prick in real life.

Spells were only doing so much to release his jealousy. Draco took to pulling the paintings off the wall, kicking his foot through the canvas', throwing chairs across the room, flinging all his paperwork and desk accessories onto the ground. But it wasn't enough. The tightness in his chest wasn't loosening.

After a period of time he had lost track of, Draco put his wand to his own throat, curious of what damage a wizard could do to himself in times of desperation. That subject was never covered at Hogwarts, so he didn't know the true repercussions.

He looked up at the black ceiling above him. The image of a young Lucius Malfoy looked back down at him. The image of an angry, broken man.

What was he becoming?

Why did a mudblood possess so much power over his life?

She wasn't filthy. She wasn't unworthy. She wasn't anything less than beautiful.

So why was he letting the values of his ancestors destroy his life.

Oh, that's right. She didn't love him back.

Letting his wand fall to the ground, Draco Malfoy fell against the floor of his office. His body lay crumpled against the cold tiles, struggling to find reason to go on.

Hermione Granger's heels clicked against the foyer tiles with every determined step she took. Quickening her pace at the sight of the Department Head Office Receptionist sitting at her desk at the centre of the hallway. The temptation to ask how her weekend with Malfoy was alluring, but now was not the time.

"Astoria, have you seen Mr Malfoy? He was supposed to be at the board meeting just now. He's never missed a meeting in his life." She questioned sternly before she even approached the work space.

"Mr Malfoy arrived on time this morning, Miss Granger, but instructed that he not be distrubed until he notified me otherwise."

"What time was that?" She interrogated, with a lifted brow.

"Two hours ago." Astoria replied.

"Interesting. I'm going to head in there, but don't come in after me."

"Are you sure? He seemed rather unlike himself upon his arrival."

"Better only one of us to have their heads chopped off than both."

Walking up to Malfoy's office door, Hermione whispered a quick prayer, hoping that a quiet entry would take some heat off her punishment for invasion of privacy.

She opened the door ever so slowly, the hinges creaking at every subtle movement. The witch wished that whatever was ahead of her wasn't as bad as she imagined in her head.

Eyes scanned over the room before her, heart sinking heavy at what she had just walked into. It was worse than she imagined.

The always clean office of Draco Malfoy was victim to the outburst of emotion its owner had built up and hidden. She could only assume, the death of his father was the root of this eruption. Papers dispensed throughout the room, chairs thrown with legs snapped, paintings pulled down and torn, shattered glass everywhere, and in the midst of it all, an equally broken man lying on the floor.

"Malfoy…" She gasped, hand covering her mouth in shock.

He didn't move. He didn't speak. His eyes focused on the ceiling.

Careful not to step on any glass, Hermione tiptoed over to her friend. She used her foot to kick away any debris, and layed down parallel to Malfoy on the floor. She could tell he was physically okay because he was breathing, and he blinked every now and then.

Hermione knew he probably didn't want to hear her voice, and he most definitely didn't want her to start cleaning up after him. So she chose to lay there next to him quietly.

The silence was deafening.

She noticed he had cast a Muffliato seeing as destruction like this would have been heard from the busy streets of London above them. That, and the white noise of ministry traffic in the foyer was muffled to a low hum.

Not knowing the pain of losing a parent, Hermione was unaware of what to do in a moment like this. Harry's parents had passed before she knew him, and Ron's parents were happily alive. Her heart beat rapidly, she could feel it all over her body.

Her right hand ached to hold his left. They were calling out to each other.

Unsteadily, and slowly she brought her hand to hover over his. Unsure of how he would react to her gentle touch. It stayed hovering, waiting for the right moment. She could feel the beat of her heart in her finger tips.

THermione looked at the black tiled ceiling, their reflection mirroring back at her. Draco still hadn't moved amongst the chaos, he kept his eyes on his own reflection. She noticed he had never looked less like himself more than right now.

And then… in a moment she would remember for the rest of her life, Hermione intertwined her fingers through those of the man laying next to her.

Draco Malfoy felt electricity pulse through his left arm. The witch his heart yearned for, that lay next to him, was holding his hand. Looking up at their blurry reflection in the tiles, he imagined for a moment, a life where they could do this forever. A life he didn't know he wanted until his father died. Or maybe he did, he just wasn't ready to admit it.

He could feel the beat of both of their hearts in his palm. Hers was just as fast as his.

Turning his head to face her, she had done the same to him, and he saw how close she was. Freckles spread across the bridge of her nose. Specks of gold floated in her eyes. The smell of honey from her shampoo drifted into his senses. He flicked between looking at different aspects of her face. Each engraved into his memory.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" He questioned with a low croak.

"You didn't come to the board meeting." She whispered in return.

"Oh."

"I'm so sorry, Malfoy. I didn't know you were in so much pain."

Draco hoped she didn't know the true reason why he was lying beneath the destruction of his office. He didn't think he would be able to rebuild his self esteem if she was laying here out of pity.

"I know we aren't really the type of friends to confess things to one another unless we force it." Granger began, panic spreading over Draco's body. "But I had hoped that you could tell me how much you were hurting over your father dying."

Relief soothed his soul, but not long before confusion melted back in.

"That is why you're upset isn't it? Lucius dying?" She shuffled her face so it was a little closer to his. Her breath ghosting his chin.

It was at this moment that Draco realised this was the perfect time to reveal his confused feelings. To declare his want to run away with her, and never look back on what slowed them down. The door was wide open, swinging back and forth waiting for him to step through. So why wasn't he?

"Yes." He lied.

Her hand tightened around his.

"Is there anything I can do?" The Gryffindor asked, ready to fix his broken heart.

Not marry him.

"No." The Slytherin lied, not ready to have his heart broken.

"Okay."

He wanted to lie here with her forever. To die here in this moment of solitude. But he knew that if he held on any longer, he'd never have the strength to leave.

Draco slipped his hand from the grasp of hers, clenched it into a fist, lifted himself off the ground and stood with his opposite hand out gesturing to help her off the ground. Her big brown eyes looked up at him. He wondered if it was disappointment that glazed over them.

Hermione Granger looked up at the man who stood above her, disappointment obvious in her eyes. She didn't want him to stop holding her hand. She didn't want him to get up and face the music. She wanted to stay in that moment forever. To die here in the solitude of it.

But there was only a certain amount of touch from a muggle-born she expected the pureblood to take. He was probably disgusted with the notion of her fingers interlaced with his. This gesture of helping her off the ground was most likely a pity offering. She took it anyway.

"Thank you." She croaked.

Comparing this image of Malfoy helping her off the floor, to the day they first bumped into each other at the ministry, where he refused to help her with her things, it was beautiful to see how far the two had come.

Neither said anything as they looked around the room once more. Chaos surrounded them. It looked like the world was burning and they stood side by side in the heart of it. One wanting to help mend his hurt, the other wanting to tell her she was the reason behind his hurt. Both unaware of how much they truly meant to each other.

Malfoy was the first to break the silence casting a Scourgify, allowing the broken remains to gather themselves together in repair.

Hermione watched in awe at his effortless charm skills. Glass pieces floated back to one another, paintings sewed back together, rubble moulded together. She couldn't remember if he was this good at school, but his current fluid wand movements were rather attractive.

As the room became whole once more, damage unnoticed from a blinded eye, Malfoy walked over to his desk and sat in the oversized leather chair. Hermione didn't know whether to stay or leave. Were they going to pretend this didn't happen or was he hoping she would say something?

Her knees were locked either way, keeping her frozen where she stood.

"I, uh-" Draco cleared his throat, "I have some unfortunate news, Granger."

"Oh?"

"Yes. In regards to your wedding." He raised the Daily Prophet that sat on his tray of tea.

Looks like they were going to ignore what just happened, then. She tilted her head in confusion.

"It appears that I will not be able to attend. I am away on business, and the forgein minister to which I am working insists on no other date. I apologise."

Hermione didn't know how to respond, and didn't know if the sadness in her heart was from his announcement, or still remained from the emptiness of no longer having his touch in her hand. She had never felt a heat surge through her ever in her life. It was like an explosion of two cauldrons, and the feeling terrified her.

"Right." seemed like an appropriate response to his statement.

"Not to worry, I am sure that Weasley will be ecstatic with my lack of appearance. And I will be sure to purchase an exorbitantly priced gift for your marital home, to make up for not being there to see you fumbly feed cake to each other. It is most likely better that I was not there to ruin the atmosphere anyway."

He looked up from his desk, avoiding eye contact by looking around the room at the items recently placed back in restoration. Hermione felt that feeling in her left arm that she felt at her birthday party. The one where she watched Astoria and Malfoy walk out to spend the remainder of their night underneath bed sheets.

"Despite your assumptions... Ron and I will both miss you being there…" She finally responded. "Myself more so."

It was those words that caused him to finally look her in the eyes.

Hermione swore to herself long ago that Malfoy would never have power over her to make her cry with his words ever again. However, this power he had over her now, was not malicious like it used to be in school. It was frightening and rule breaking. So, it was only natural that her body gave in, neck pulling itself tight, eyes soon to well with water.

Before she would allow him to see anything, Hermione broke the contact from his silver eyes, and like an arrow from a bow she turned to leave the room. As she reached the door however, her surname was called urgently, as if it told her to wait. Fingers paused, curled over the handle, not looking back in his direction.

"I really am… sorry." Malfoy croaked.

"Yeah," she breathed, "Me too."

Slowly but swiftly leaving the room to disguise her rush, the broken-hearted witch did not look at the receptionist that was watching her departure. Rather she kept her head low and entered her own office next door. Pulling the wand out of her pocket, she cast a gentle Muffliato, as her body grumbled to the floor.

Hermione knew why she was crying. She knew. She just wasn't ready to admit it. Hot tears ran down her cheeks as she clutched her stomach, whimpers escaping lips.

A range of emotions ran through her body, but the one that lingered was guilt. Guilt that there was a connection with Malfoy that wasn't between her and Ron, like he filled the void that was in her relationship. Not only did he meet her level intellectually, but there was a chemical reaction between their bodies that couldn't be denied.

It was a bond that Ron and Harry never gave her. Did he feel it too? Was it just her? Was she making a mistake marrying Ron?

Hermione thought of Pansy Parkinson. The woman that was having an affair with Malfoy for years. A theory crossed her mind at the idea of the two's relationship.

Malfoy was clearly okay having relations with an engaged woman. The wizard was not ashamed to admit that they had been sleeping with one another. There must have been a physical attraction for anything to happen in the first place, and therefore they both acted upon it. Malfoy was willing to damage his own reputation to keep such deep secrets with her.

Hermione came to the conclusion that if he was so okay with damaging a friend's relationship, then if he had felt the same way about her, he would have done something about it by now. In Romania, at his house, right now in his office.

With all the opportunities in front of them, Malfoy never said anything. He came to their engagement party and left with someone else, for crying out loud.

Hermione sat up off the tiled floor, wiped the tears off her cheeks and caught her breath. She was being silly. Just because Malfoy and her got along as friends, did not automatically mean that they had feelings for one another. Hermione should not have second guessed her future marriage with Ron. They were the slow burn lovers that England adored.

There was no chance that Draco Malfoy loved Hermione Granger.

No chance.