IN HINDSIGHT

Chapter One

For all the womanly elegance that Draco had been bought up to appreciate, he had always despised long fingernails. For as long as he could remember, the site of them made him irrationally angry. He suspected the dislike may have come from the red welts left on his skin as a youngster by his mother's psychopathic sister, those yellowing claws digging into his flesh in a way which was much too painful to be accidental. But since then it had merely become an issue of practicality. He was sick of being asked to open everything with a ring-pull because said nail was at risk of breaking, and he was tired of being scratched by things that served absolutely no use other than to supposedly look good.

Well, they didn't look good. Not at all. Not even if attached to a hand which was currently resting on his thigh and sliding ever closer to his crotch.

He sighed deeply, took a large swig of whisky and finding himself no closer to feeling aroused by the frankly shameless ministrations of the girl nestled seductively into his side, shrugged her, and her obnoxiously long and scarlet nails, off of him.

"What's the matter, baby?" Her accented voice was losing much of its previous allure at being forced to shout over the loud music. Her hand was almost immediately back, this time resting on the juncture of his thigh and squeezing at the muscle there. "No one can see us. Let me make you feel good".

Her breath smelled of champagne and cigarettes and though he knew he should be fantasising about taking the slender Romanian right there and then, pulling that pretty silver dress up over her head and exposing the lithe body underneath, instead all he could think about was the fact that her roots needed touching up and that somewhere during the course of the evening she'd lost an earring.

He pushed her hand off him again, this time more forcefully. She looked as though she may say something else but the cold anger on his face sent a clear message that she'd better damn well shut up right now or else. And so she did, angling herself away from him and crossing her arms tightly against her chest, looking for all the world like a child having had their favourite toy taken away.

It had been a mistake to have invited her to the club. He should have just shagged her after dinner and sent her on her merry way, slipping back to whatever hole the rest of her thin-limbed, money-seeking horde came from. But no, he'd stupidly suggested St. Christopher's and now here they were, sat in his usual VIP area which was nothing more than a worn leather couch perched behind some faux velvet rope, sipping at drinks which had no right to cost as much as they did.

He wasn't even sure when the erection he'd been harbouring at the restaurant, mostly from the ministrations of her bare toes rubbing at him underneath the table, had limped to a halt, but it could have been something to do with the sultry smile he'd seen her give to the bouncer as they entered. Or maybe it was the fact that every single guy in the room had been practically undressing her with their eyes from the moment they'd walked in.

It should have made him proud. It should have been reason enough to show every single miserable fucker in that place that she was with him. But it didn't. It just made him angry.

Draco Malfoy didn't share. Not one bit.

He'd contemplated marching her out of the club and banging her senseless in the alleyway. Leaving his mark and letting everyone know that she was his, if only for the evening, and then only because she was good for one night, but not even the thought of that raised more than a dull twitch from the area which her hands had been so hungrily seeking. Whether it was because of the whisky he'd been throwing down his throat or that he was just bored of the whole leggy charade, either way whatever hopes she'd been harbouring about getting into his bed, and presumably his wallet, he readily dashed when he turned to her and said in one lazy drawl, "you can go if you like".

Her eyes flashed angrily, all of her previously coquettish nature disappearing as swiftly as if somebody had thrown ice water over her. "So you don't want to fuck?".

Draco shook his head stiffly, his eyes cold as they stared out onto the shifting mass of bodies below them.

"Du te draku" she hissed at him as she threw her bag over her shoulder and unfolded herself from the seat, all sinewy legs and arms. She stormed from the VIP area, nearly tripping over the rope in her quest to leave as quickly as was humanly possible and then smacking away the bouncers well-placed hand off her hip as he attempted to steady her. Draco snorted nastily and then settled back amongst the sofa cushions, tumbler in hand. Women may be dispensable, but good whisky was certainly not.

The club was still filling out with people, the dance floor becoming heavy with sweaty bodies all moving together in unison with the beat of the music. He caught sight of his date pushing her way through the crowd, a near half head taller than most everyone else in there. Draco's eyes watched her go with no emotion and then lazily meandered over the rest of the moving figures, watching as scantily clad bodies ground into muscular frames spilling out of too-tight t-shirts, hands disappearing underneath clothes in the mistaken cover of darkness. Sheens of sweat caught just as well as any body glitter in the flashing lights and the whole dance floor suddenly seemed to be one rolling mass of people conjoined by sweaty skin and seeking hands.

His eyes continued to rove, in particular to the darkened booths that lined the walls. Most were filled with couples continuing their ministrations in relative peace, the bouncers largely turning a blind eye. Voyeurism wasn't usually his thing but as he watched one particularly frisky pair with their hands in places best reserved for private, he found himself stiffening. Perhaps all hope for the evening wasn't lost after all. The heat in his stomach grew as he continued to watch the pair, unable to tear his eyes away from the rhythmic pumping of her hand under the table that could really only mean one thing.

He cursed low under his breath as his view suddenly became obstructed by a group of men dressed in ridiculous get ups and twisted in his seat, but it was no use - the private wank session that he'd been so gleefully watching was now well and truly hidden behind a solid curtain of bodies. Never mind, there was other booths, other couples. His eyes swept to another recess, catching on the sight of two women sitting knee to knee, one turned towards the other so that her back was to him, long hair floating down around her shoulders in a cascade of curls.

Oh, now this should be good.

Unconsciously he licked his lips, waiting for the inevitable moment that the pair would begin their activities with one another, but frowned when he noticed - was she crying?

The shoulders of the girl with her back to him were shaking, those delectable curls moving with it, and though for all he knew she may well have been laughing, the concerned face of the other girl, the hand that went to the shoulder in a gesture of comfort, was answer enough. Draco watched as words were said and then a glass of red wine poured from the bottle perched on the table next to them. The crying girl picked up the glass and promptly necked it, earning herself a low whistle from Draco.

She'd probably just broken up with her someone, Draco thought to himself. There wasn't much other reason to be sat in the middle of a club crying like that. He could take advantage of that; he certainly had before. The desperate rejects were always the best hook ups. Throw a compliment their way and he'd have them bouncing on his bed before he could even get their name out of them.

But this one though… maybe she was too fresh, just a bit too fragile. Even now he could see her shoulders continuing to shake up and down and he watched with narrowed eyes as her friend poured her another glass of wine which was once again swiftly downed. No, it wouldn't do to have a crying, slobbering and most likely puking mess spending the night in his house.

With a sigh, Draco finished the rest of his whiskey and stood to leave, throwing a twenty down on the table. He'd barely made it out of the VIP area when he felt a touch on his arm and looked around to find a tall blonde smiling at him. He raised a questioning eyebrow and she leaned forward smiling, her hand around his bicep.

"I am Tatiana" she said, purring into his ear. "You are attractive man so I come speak with you".

Straight to the point at least, Draco thought with amusement, and took a step back to look at her. She watched hungrily as his eyes swept up and down her body. Whereas most girls might have been offended by the obvious appraisal of their figure, if anything she stood taller and prouder still, cocking her hip to show of a set of ridiculously long legs which in heels brought her almost to Draco's height.

"You buy me drink" she said, leaning closer to him again when his eyes once agin settled on her face. It was phrased as less of a question and more of a statement. This one was used to getting her way. Draco's face curled into a cocky smile and with a nonchalant shrug, he nodded.

"Sure".

He led her down the stairs of the club, past the dance floor and to the bar, placing a hand in the small of her back as he guided her forward.

"Two whiskeys" he shouted over the thumping music, one hand fingering out his credit card and the other snaking itself around the girl's waist to rest suggestively on her hip.

"It is very manly drink, yes? In Russia, we drink mostly vodka" Tatiana said, boldly manoeuvring herself in front of him as the drinks were placed before them and then, in a movement which made Draco's breath catch, wiggled her bum in his crotch. She picked up one of the tumblers and took a sip, ignoring how Draco's hand tightened and drew her closer into him. "I like it" she purred into his ear.

It was all he could do not to press her against the bar and bang her brains out there and then, but then she had slipped away and turned to face him, smiling seductively as she noticed the growing lust in his eyes.

"We dance, yes?"

"I don't dance" said Draco, his eyes flicking away from her to the sweaty mass of bodies behind them. "But why don't you show me what you can do". He leant back against the bar and raised an eyebrow as if in challenge.

"I dance? For you?" Tatiana asked, her eyes flashing. Draco nodded and took a gulp of the whisky, gesturing with his free hand to the dance floor. She laughed, one singularly high note, tipped the rest of the drink down her throat, and with a sultry wink made her way to the edge of the dance floor. Her eyes stayed on him as she moved, nowhere in time with the beat of the music but moving instead to her own rhythm. It was hypnotic and desperately alluring, especially when one long finger trailed down the length of her cleavage, begging him to follow. One more bite of her rouged lower lip later and Draco was near about ready to drag her out of the club and rip her clothes off in the taxi home.

The moment was somewhat ruined when another girl practically fell into him, nearly spilling half her drink down his shirt. Draco's head whipped around to find a man holding the drunk girl steady, raising a hand and mouthing an apology. Draco frowned and was about to turn back around to his own private dance show when he realised the girl who had just knocked into him looked exactly like the one who had been pouring glass after glass of wine for the crying girl.

Without knowing what prompted him to do it, especially knowing full well that the leggy Russian was stood only metres away from him demanding his attention, he leaned in to the man and asked "your girlfriend?".

"Nah mate, just some bird from tonight. Seems like a right laugh though, we're gonna go back to my place and make some sweet, sweet love" he grinned, the girl next to him laughing and nodding her head, seemingly not at all offended by the other man's crude admission.

"And your friend?" Draco asked the girl. "The one you were with earlier" he clarified when she looked at him confused.

"You know her?" she slurred, and then when Draco didn't reply she shrugged and said "she's just a girl from work. Boyfriend dumped her. Thought I'd take her out, help her forget you know". The girl pouted unattractively, giggled and then hiccuped loudly.

"Great friend" said Draco under his breath, just at the moment as Tatiana stalked over, looking warily at the new girl.

"Do you want to go, English whisky man?" she asked, resting a hand on his arm.

"Sure" Draco replied, finishing off the rest of his drink and depositing the tumbler back on the bar. Without a backwards glance at the drunk pair he gripped the crook of her elbow and led her around the dance floor and past the darkened booths. They had just reached the exit when she stopped him with wide eyes.

"I forget my coat. I must go back and get it. It is Versace. Very expensive. You will wait here, yes?" she said, and then hurried back into the club when Draco nodded. He stood for a moment, hands in his pockets surveying the room. The group of men obviously on some sort of stag do had migrated into the centre of the room, their ridiculous costumes vibrant amongst the mass of bodies. Draco noticed that the booth they'd been standing in front of was now empty and wondered if the couple from before had left to carry on their activities on one another elsewhere.

It was then that he noticed that the crying girl, the girl whose friend who apparently had deserted her to go home with a man, was still sat in the next booth over. Those riotous curls hung around her face which was once again shoved into a near empty wine glass. He watched as she tipped the rest of it back down her throat and then, on attempting to pour another glass and realising that the bottle was empty, stood shakily and promptly landed on a heap on the floor.

It was a curious paradox that Draco Malfoy, known womaniser and someone who didn't think twice about playing with someone's emotions if it meant he got what he want, had also been raised by a mother whose old-fashioned standards had meant manners had been drilled into him from before he could even walk. So even if he was a self-admitted shit the vast majority of the time, he found himself crouched next to her before he'd even felt the urge to move, his hands on her shoulders ready to help her up.

Her head turned up to look at him, brown and red-rimmed eyes staring up at him, and it was only when she recoiled from him that her features, swollen and blotchy as they were from the crying, came together as one to form a face which was so familiar and so startling all at once that his first reaction was to stand swiftly and in the process let go of her so that she landed in another messy heap on the floor.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he spat after a shocked pause which immediately set her off into a fresh round of tears. The people nearest to them were beginning to look and Draco realised what it must look like, him leering over a crying girl looking for all the world like he'd put her there. Ignoring the glances he squatted down in front of her.

"L-leave me a-a-alone Malfoy" she hiccuped between tears, attempting to bat him away weakly with a hand on his chest. He brushed her aside and grasped her bicep, hauling her upright. She stumbled and fell into him but his fingers digging into her skin kept her standing.

"Why the hell are you in this state, Granger?" he hissed into her ear, irrationally annoyed by her drunkenness. Didn't she see the eyes of the men watching her, eyeing up her vulnerability like she was some sort of meal for them?

"You're hurting me" Hermione sobbed, squirming to attempt to rid herself of his grasp, but he held firm, if anything tightening his grip even further.

"Tough" he said harshly, reaching across to grab her bag left on the seat of the booth, the empty wine bottles littering the table making the rage gathering in his chest growl even louder. He straightened and thrust the bag at her, not once letting her go and began to drag her towards the exit, ignoring her protests and the way she attempted to twist out of his grip.

After the heat of the club the cold air on his skin made him shiver and he felt Hermione tremble next to him. He was just about to ask where her coat was, never mind the fact that it was probably in the club he'd just dragged her out of, when a pointed cough from behind him made him spin. Tatiana stood there with an ugly pout on her face, her eyes alternately glancing between Draco and Hermione.

"Who is this?" she asked, one long manicured finger pointing at Hermione. When Draco didn't answer her red lips sneered in response. "You choose this dwarf over me?"

Draco laughed coldly to hear Granger described as such. His eyes briefly flicked downwards to the crown of her head, barely reaching his shoulders. The Russian certainly wasn't mistaken, but suddenly though he felt his cold amusement turn once again to rage. How dare this pathetic slip of a thing have allowed herself to get into such a state where she was nothing but meat for the dogs? How did she not see how getting shit-faced in the middle of a club full of horny arseholes would only end in tears?

His eyes narrowed as he tore them away from Granger still pulled tightly into his side.

"Your coat, how much?" he asked, ignoring how Tatiana's face scrunched up in disgust.

"Coat not for sale. Is Versace".

"I don't give a flying fuck. How much?"

"You are crazy Englishman. Coat two thousand British pounds".

"Fine" Draco said, pulling out his wallet and letting go of Hermione to draw out a wad of cash which he thrust at Tatiana. "Give me the coat".

Tatiana looked as though he'd just struck her in the face but after a moment of startled silence nonetheless took the money and shrugged out of her jacket. Draco plucked it out of her fingers and immediately reached his arms around Hermione, throwing the coat over her shoulders.

"I, d-don't n-" Hermione began to protest.

"Be quiet" Draco spat angrily at her. "We're leaving".

With Tatiana still staring at him, and the other men standing smoking outside of the club staring at her, Draco marched Hermione down the street and into a side alley. Before she'd even had a chance to protest he'd thrust an arm round her shoulders, drawn her into his chest and whisked her along in a side-long apparition.

As soon as they'd landed, she'd stepped backwards from him and was promptly sick. Draco grimaced, waiting until she was finished and then vanished away the mess. "Thanks" Hermione muttered quietly, wiping at her mouth and her streaming eyes which Draco couldn't tell if were from the vomiting or if she were still crying. "R-really Malfoy, I c-c-can go home now".

"No" Draco said bluntly, shaking his head and manoeuvring her down the hallway and into a dark kitchen area. He guided her into a seat and thrust a glass of water into her hands. She had only drunk a sip when Draco took a seat next to her. She yelped when his hands grasped the outside of her chair and pulled her round to face him. The water sloshed out of the glass and onto her lap and she felt Draco take it from her hands and set it aside as another round of tears engulfed her. He didn't say anything as her shoulders shook and fat tears rolled down her cheeks to land on her thighs, but finally, when her sobs had subsided, he pressed a handkerchief into her hand.

"Enough now, Granger. Stop with this pointless crying. It's ugly".

"S-so what M-Malfoy? W-why do you e-even care?" she asked, hiccuping. Malfoy leaned forward in his chair, reaching forward to grasp her face. His long fingers locked around her jaw, forcing her eyes to his.

"Why do I care?" he spoke quietly, the words hissing out from between his teeth, his lips pinched white with anger. "You drink yourself silly in that dirty club, no one to look after you. Did you not see the way the louts in that place were staring at you, Granger? Do you not know how stupid you are sometimes? Anything could have happened to you. Anything".

She looked up at him with wide eyes, tears pooling once more and sliding down her cheeks. "Fuck Granger, don't you dare start crying again" he said, but this time more gently, swiping a tear away with his thumb and releasing his grip on her chin. "Merlin's beard, all this for a bloke".

"Who says it's about a man?" Hermione asked, sniffling again into the handkerchief and earning herself a raised eyebrow from Draco who otherwise stayed silent and pressed the glass of water into her hand again. "W-who was the blonde?"

"No one" Draco said firmly, coaxing the glass upright with a finger and encouraging her to drink more. When he was satisfied, he took the glass from her hands and placed it in the sink. "Bed time. Sleep this off and you'll be right as rain come morning".

"No" Hermione said, shaking her head.

"No?" Draco countered, stalking back towards her. "What do you mean no?". He leaned down, one arm on the back of her chair so that his face was only inches from her own. "Do as I say Granger, I swear to Merlin-"

"No" Hermione repeated. "No this isn't fair. You can't do this. You can't just-"

"What!? What can't I do?" Draco cut across her. "Protect you from getting molested by a bunch of guys who were all just queueing up to take advantage of you? Stop you from drinking yourself under the table whilst your poxy friend goes home with some dickhead?"

"You don't understand" Hermione said quietly, dropping her eyes to his feet.

Draco sighed, stood upright and ran a hand through his hair. "What don't I understand exactly?"

"My boyfriend broke up with me. So, Malfoy, I think that gives me a free p-pass to drink as much as I want and do as I bloody well please". She stood unsteadily, her hand gripping onto the table behind her.

"And you care, that much?" Draco asked her, his eyes blazing.

"Yes, I b-bloody well do".

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you care so much? People get dumped all the time, Granger" Malfoy said with a cruel smirk, leaning back against once of the kitchen worktops and crossing his arms. "Or is it just the rejection that you can't take, the fact that-"

"Why are you being such a jerk?" Hermione cut across him, her voice shaking with anger. "It's n-not the rejection. I d-don't care about… no, n-no it's not that".

"Then what then Granger? What's got you in this state?" he asked, gesturing lazily with a hand towards her.

Silence suffused the kitchen for a moment, the only sound that of their heavy breathing and then quietly, ever so softly, she spoke.

"I loved him".

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, his face pale and the tendons in his jaw clenched tightly. "What did you just say?"

When he didn't get an immediate response, he took two long strides across the kitchen to where she stood and grasped her shoulders, his long fingers splaying over her collarbone. "What the fuck did you just say!?"

"I said, I said that I loved him, okay?" Hermione shouted, tear tracks still shining wetly on her cheeks. "Is that so fucking wrong? Is that so hard to believe?"

Draco straightened and backed up, his arms falling to his side. It felt as though all of the blood in his body had drained to his feet leaving him light headed and dizzy.

"You never -" he said quietly, his biting tone gone. "You never said".

"I was going to though. I was going to and I never got the chance, did I?" She looked down at her feet at the same time as Draco felt the bottom of his stomach drop away.

"You never gave me the chance" she whispered.

"But-"

"But what, Malfoy?" Hermione said sharply, now cutting across him. "So I can't be upset? I can't be upset that the man I love ditched me to hang out with leggy Russians who wear two thousand pound Versace coats? I can't cry about the fact that I finally found someone who I thought I connected with only to find out that I was probably just another cheap lay, huh?"

She was shouting now, advancing on Draco with a pointed finger.

"I'm not allowed to drink some wine and go to a fucking club, but it's okay for my ex to sit in a restaurant with some super model rubbing his crotch with their foot in public the day after we break up". Her eyes flashed as she looked at Draco. "Don't think I didn't know. Don't pretend to forget that I have friends who work there". Her voice was loud and angry but Draco stayed silent, couldn't think, couldn't even breath.

Love?

She reached a point inches away from him and stopped. Her chest was heaving and her cheeks flushed but this time no tears fell. He looked down at her, not daring to move an inch. They stood there together seemingly frozen, their eyes locked until Draco whispered into the void between them.

"You said 'love'"

"What?"

"Present tense. Love". His eyes didn't leave her face - the minute movements of his pupils the only give that he was taking in her every expression, every freckle on her face, every quiver of her lip. "Granger. Hermione. Do you still love me?"

The torture of waiting for her response felt like an eternity and just when he thought she would finally grant him the blessed relief of an answer - any answer - she stepped back from him and sat down heavily in her recently vacated seat. She ran a finger across the top of the water-glass, looking at it and pointedly not at him.

"I'll ask you again, Malfoy" she finally said, drawing out his last name as it to emphasis that they were no longer on first name terms. "Why do you care? You dumped me, remember?"

She wasn't wrong. He had. So why couldn't he answer the question? Why did he care so damn much after only yesterday telling her that she wasn't worth his time? The answer niggled in his gut but before he could force the bitter words up she was standing and reaching for her bag where it lay discarded on the floor.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Draco bit out harshly, his anger returning suddenly, doubled now by the blow to his stomach that she'd just delivered with her words.

"Home".

"You can't-" he began unsteadily, reaching forward as though to take her arm again, hating how desperate the action made him look but craving the feeling of her flesh underneath his fingers anyway, but she shook him off.

"I can and I will. Goodbye Malfoy" she said, marching into the hallway.

"Granger. What the fuck. I'm telling you no" he said, following her out, watching her shrug out off the coat that she was still wearing.

"You don't get to tell me what to do. Here" she said, shoving the coat into his chest.

"You - you -" Draco stuttered. The whiskey was tumbling in his stomach and he felt bile in the back of his throat as she opened the front door. "You'll be cold" he said pathetically. She stopped momentarily, her hand still on the latch and for one moment he thought she might turn back, but then she shrugged and stepped over the threshold, the glass in the frames shaking as she pulled the door shut firmly behind her. Draco stared at it, breathing deeply as his heart stuttered in his chest. There was silence and then a sharp ripping sound as he tore the coat in two down the middle.

A/N: Your reviews are appreciated, as always!