December 31, 1999
She stands on the front steps of his new place wearing a glittery gold dress, and it's like a stunning spell straight to his heart. Draco grins sheepishly, pleased with her unexpected visit but nervous about it too.
"What are you doing here?" he asks.
"What am I doing here? What are you doing here? You're meant to be in Diagon Alley with me. What's keeping you? Why aren't you dressed yet?"
There's a New Year's Eve celebration in Diagon Alley tonight, an event spearheaded by Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and championed by the neighboring shops. The celebration will include lots of music and dancing, food carts and bottomless booze, and, presumably, an obnoxious display of fireworks blasted into London's night sky as the clock strikes midnight.
The radio stations have advertised the event all month long. Countless times the voices of George Weasley and Lee Jordan have invited Draco to ring in the new millennium with them. But until this instance, Granger hadn't said anything about him joining her and her usual crowd of friends for these festivities.
"I'm meant to be there with you?" Draco asks.
Granger gives him a funny little look, a mix of reproach and amusement. She's given it many times before, and he knows exactly what she's trying to say with it.
"You're meant to be there with all of us," she amends.
Right. So she's still dodging the truth. Acting like all she wants is to make him feel welcome. Playing the part of self-appointed Goodwill Ambassador of Former Death Eaters, or some nonsense like that. Well, no thanks, then. Draco won't be heading to Diagon Alley tonight.
"My attendance is not mandatory," he tells her.
"I thought you'd at least make an appearance. You usually do when I invite you places."
"But you didn't invite me this time. Unless showing up now counts. And anyway, it'll be an enormous crowd, won't it? You know I don't like crowds. And I bet several reporters will be there. You know I hate reporters. So I think I'll pass this time."
Granger stares at him for a moment. When she speaks, she sounds as if she's hurt her own feelings. "I didn't invite you?" she asks.
Draco shakes his head.
"I could have sworn… Maybe I just assumed?"
In addition to the radio advertisements, Draco heard about the New Year's Eve celebration while at the Three Broomsticks on Dean Thomas's birthday. There'd been a general discussion about everyone's plans. That's the memory Granger's grasping at now, Draco's sure of it. But that general discussion had not included an invitation.
"I'm sorry I assumed," Granger continues. "It's like you said, though. I'm here now. And I'd like you to join me. Doesn't that sway you?"
This is the way it always goes. If Draco hints at what's developed between them, Granger shuts it down with a look or by amending a few words. But she can hint at it all she wants. She can show up at his door in a glittery dress and say things like, 'I'd like you to join me.' And, 'Doesn't that sway you?' And there's not a damn thing he can do about it.
The double standard is killing him. But he has to admit it wouldn't even be a problem if either of them would initiate a direct conversation. They're long overdue for one.
"What's the verdict?" she asks. "Are you coming or not?"
"Fine," says Draco, opening his front door wider. "But you've got to wait for me while I get ready."
-x-
For as long as he's known her, he's wanted her. Just not always in the way he wants her now. When he was a child, it was the way one might want a puzzle to solve. She was different than he'd been taught a Muggle-born would be and that piqued his interest. He wanted her around so he could make sense of her.
By fourth year, he wanted her physically. It was nothing to be ashamed of, he told himself. She was good to look at, even international Quidditch star Viktor Krum thought so. And as long as his interest never developed beyond that, beyond physical attraction, he had nothing to worry about.
While he worked on the Vanishing Cabinet, he wanted her as an escape from reality. Yes, that meant he still wanted her physically, but much more desperately than before. He wanted to be so lost in her that he'd forget Father was locked in Azkaban, Mother was locked in the Manor, and they'd all be locked in coffins soon if he failed his mission.
Then, as she withered in pain on the drawing room floor, Aunt Bellatrix stooping over her, Draco wanted her for an ally. He wished he could go back in time to that night on the Astronomy Tower, lower his wand sooner, accept Dumbledore's protection, and help the Order however possible. Maybe then the events of the war would have played out differently. Maybe then she'd never have been brought to the Manor.
Immediately following the war, he wanted her as a tool for redemption. She'd been quick to offer to speak up for him in front of the Wizengamot, quick to get Potter to speak up too. And he'd been happy to let her do it. It suited him just fine to let Hermione Granger sway public opinion about him.
And during their last year at Hogwarts and every day since graduation, he's wanted her in every other imaginable way. He doesn't fight it anymore, doesn't try to mold his desire into something less than it really is. Voldemort's dead and he stopped caring what his parents think a long time ago. So it's all acceptable now, all the various ways he wants her.
Especially because she wants him back. It didn't start that way, of course. It started with Granger being nice to him because she's a nice person. Self-appointed Goodwill Ambassador and all that. But he went along with it. He was nice back. And soon they became friends.
Now they've been friends for nearly a year and a half, and for a small majority of that time, Draco's felt confident Granger is as interested in him as he is in her. Why, then, does she keep dodging his hints? She's the Gryffindor, after all. The brave one. She should take his hints and build on them, be the first to address their feelings outright. That's what Draco expects. That's what he's been waiting for.
Could it finally happen tonight? He wonders as he changes out of his casual clothes and into something on par with her glittery dress.
-x-
Draco enters the kitchen wearing a suit but no tie and finds Granger pouring herself a drink at the counter.
"You're a good person," he declares.
She grins. "Go on," she says. "What makes me so good?"
"You're always getting me out of the house, making sure I don't have enough alone time to wallow in self-hatred. Or worse, self-pity."
"It's quite telling that you think, of the two, self-pity is worse. Haven't fully forgiven yourself yet, have you?"
She lifts the glass to her lips as Draco crosses the kitchen.
"I think I'll have a drink too," he says, avoiding the question.
He pours himself a glass and then they're both sipping away. Both leaning against the sink too, their shoulders pressed together.
"Can I tell you something?" asks Granger after a pause.
"Anything."
"I think that was my favorite part when we first started spending time together. You thinking I'm a good person. Despite all the good press I was getting, despite my name becoming almost as synonymous with success as Harry's, I felt I was disappointing everyone around me. I didn't join the Ministry right away like Shacklebolt wanted. I turned down McGonagall's offer to be Head Girl. I'd just broken Ron's heart, and he hated me for a while because of it. Harry and Ginny, they weren't too pleased about that either. And my parents…"
Draco knows all about the complicated procedures Mr. and Mrs. Granger have gone through to recover their memories. He knows how hard it's been on their family.
"My parents were still in St. Mungo's at the time, and I wasn't sure I'd gone about protecting them in the right away. So that's where I was in life when our friendship started. Worrying about how much I was disappointing others. And angry too because everyone seemed to want more from me than I was prepared to give."
This is new for Draco. Though they speak candidly with one another, though they tell each other everything that's important, he's never pieced it together the way Granger's doing for him now. Until this moment, he hasn't considered how much pressure she must have felt. How much pressure she probably still feels. All the time.
Draco's stomach churns. "I've added to the weight you carry, haven't I?"
"No! No, that's not what I'm saying at all."
She sets her drink down and puts a hand on his arm.
"What I'm trying to say is that you were the only person who wanted something from me that I felt I could give. Which meant being around you was the only time I felt good at myself. Like I said, I could tell you thought I was a good person, and that - God, how do I describe how much that meant to me?"
Granger considers her words, takes three steps across the kitchen as she continues to ponder, then turns back around to face Draco. Their eyes meet.
"It was like hearing the thing I most needed to hear, from the last person I expected to hear it from. And that made it better somehow. More powerful."
But? Draco's suddenly sure there's a but. He's sure Granger's going to say she doesn't need him anymore. Fuck. He's been such an idiot about this. Because this girl is perfect. Way too good for him. How could he have ever believed she could be his?
"What's wrong?" she asks.
"Nothing. But I don't think I want to go anymore. I'm sorry for wasting your time."
"Draco, no…"
"I'm sorry for wasting your time," he repeats, his words harsher now.
"You haven't. I don't understand. Have I… Have I misread things?"
"Have you misread things?"
Granger re-crosses the kitchen and downs the rest of her drink. Again, their shoulders touch, but this time she's facing the opposite direction, towards the sink.
"I'm trying to tell you that it's different for me now," she says quietly and without looking at Draco. "At first, my feelings for you were dependent on a self-absorbed way of seeing things. I was only thinking about how you made me feel good about myself. But I've grown to value so much more than that, both about you as an individual and about us. You're resilient, and gracious, and fiercely independent. You've got clever opinions about everything and - And I love the way there's no topic off limits when we're together. We challenge each other, but we're also quick to give compliments. And we laugh all the time. And -"
She turns towards him and grins.
"And we clean up really well," she says. "I mean, God, look at you..."
Draco's too shocked, too dumbstruck with happiness, to reply immediately. In the fraction of a second he stays silent, Granger - Hermione - deflates. She thinks he's not interested in that way.
"Fuck. I need another drink," she says.
She reaches for her glass, but Draco catches her hand to stop her.
"Liquid courage? Granger, if there's something else you want to say, just say it."
She laughs mirthlessly. "I think I've said plenty. Maybe you should take over."
"Alright, how about this: could I take you on a proper date sometime soon? Just the two of us?"
Hermione sighs heavily. "I'd like that," she says.
"You would?"
"Of course I would, you idiot. Didn't I make that clear enough?"
"What's with the heavy sigh, then?"
"A proper date? Draco, are you kidding me? I don't want to do that pureblood courting, extended timeline shit. I don't want to wait that long."
The corner of Draco's mouth twitches, a smile he's resisting. "You don't want to wait that long to do what exactly?" he asks.
"You know w-"
He slams his lips against hers. And finally, after all the years of wanting her, he's got her. She's his and he's hers. And this new millennium is going to be so much better than the last.