A/N: Uh, hey, guys! I know I said I'd write more fluff since I'm so close to being done, and I was so going to but halfway it changed, so sorry? Lol, hope you guys enjoy and review! :D

Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.

Holyhead Harpies: Chaser 3- Write about a heartbreak on a summer day(s) OR an unrequited (doesn't necessarily have to be) love coming true on a winter night(s).

Prompts: 10. Melancholy (emotion); 5. Asleep (word); 15. Oceans by Seafret (song)

Word count: 1567

And I'll let the world have its way with me (hard and rough)

It feels like there's oceans

Between you and me

Draco likes to think their love story goes a little like this:

There's a boy with pale blond hair and ruddy cheeks standing in the middle of the Slytherin and Gryffindor Cabins, hiding flowers behind his back—a bundle of daisies hand picked by himself from the flower field—which are crumbling because of how strong he's gripping them.

He toes his foot into the ground, covering his white tennis shoes with dirt. He doesn't mind; his mother and father are in the city and aren't around to punish him for it. The fair hairs on his arms dance in the cold breeze making him wish he'd brought his sweater. It's a bit chilly for the beginning of summer.

Other children run around him, laughing and smiling, unaware of the turmoil building up within the boy. A camp counselor walks by him and looks questioningly at him before a girl with blue eyes and flaming red hair steals the curious adult away.

He waits there until a girl comes out from the Gryffindor cabin, book in her hand, eyes searching the campground. She meets his gray eyes and he can see the tiniest of smiles cross her face before she schools it into a bored expression. She bounds down the stairs, curly, frizzy hair bouncing with each step.

"Draco," she says, voice cool. "I see you've come back."

Draco smirks, tilting his chin up. "I see you had enough money to afford another summer, Hermione," he retorts, inwardly flinching at his words. Why can't he ever say what he really means?

Hermione huffs, crossing her arms and placing her book under her armpit. "I thought you said you weren't coming back. Weren't you crying last summer about how filthy the wildlife was?" She raises a brow and smiles when Draco purses his lips. "I thought so."

"Well, maybe I found something I liked from this place." The weight of the flowers feel heavy in his hands. He wonders if she'll realize he's talking about her.

"I'm sure you did," Hermione responds, unable to hide the curiosity in her face. It's what he likes about her—her undying thirst to figure out everything in the world.

"I'm looking forward to this summer," Draco says, taking the flowers out in the open. Hermione's eyes widen a fraction when she sees them and she has to do a double take when Draco offers them to her. "This is the only thing you'll be getting this summer since Slytherin's gonna win the best cabin tournament," he adds, practically throwing the bundle of daisies—badly tied together with a green ribbon from the arts and crafts station—at her when she stares. "Close your mouth. You'll attract flies."

Hermione catches them and drops her book as she does so. She glares at him when she has to pick up her book. "You weren't lucky last summer, and you won't be now," she retorts, marching back into the Gryffindor cabin.

"That went well," he whispers, giving himself a pat on the back for a good job.

After all, she keeps the flowers, doesn't she?

But this boy is only thirteen years old and knows nothing of the cruel world.

Right now, he's only a boy with hope and love on his mind.

He'll tease the girl until she notices him during the camp activities. He'll insult her friends in hopes that she'll realize how much better of a friend he can be. He'll banter back and forth with her until the counselor has had enough and separates them to the end of the rooms. He'll try to catch fish to impress her and he'll hurt himself in the process. Then he'll complain loudly so she knows he's okay and not to worry.

This boy will stretch and reach the sky, growing into his limbs and body.

He'll make mistakes—so many that they'll be innumerable.

He'll recognize those mistakes and try to fix them, but he knows that there are some mistakes he will never be able to correct.

This boy will turn into an adult and sweep the woman off her feet in a bridal hold. They'll be the sweetly annoying couple who fell in love during their years at summer camp and who'll tell the story to anyone who shows the slightest interest.

But the world is a cruel place and the man will never get everything he wants.

He'll learn soon enough when money gets tight and when sharp words lay their stake in his heart that the world is harsh and unforgiving; when summer's come and gone, leaving winter in its place, he'll try and hold on to all the warmth he can.

However, there's so only so much strength in his arms before he's forced to let go; there's only so much screaming one can do before their throats are raw and bloody.

But by this time, this man will have changed just like seasons do and so will have the woman.

A couple can't stay in the honeymoon stage forever, even if the man so desperately wishes they did.

They must awake from their hibernation and cozy cave to discover they've been asleep on the stormy oceans this entire time.

Draco's love tale actually ends like this:

The ring on Draco's finger feels heavy and grounding, eerily similar to the feeling in his heart.

It's surreal to think that in a few moments he'll be taking it off.

Marriage in his mind has always seemed so final—till death do us part and everything in between. But now that he's sitting in this chilly room, temperature dropping every second he stares at the divorce papers, it never occurred to him that it's so easy to slip the finger out of his finger and throw away years of marriage.

Years of memories, sweet and heartfelt and awful and messy, gone in a simple scrawl of his name.

"Well?" Hermione asks, leaning back against the chair in the lawyer's office with an impatient tone. She's never been the most patient person in the world. "I'm tired of dancing around this issue," she adds, pushing the pen closer to him.

Draco glances at his soon-to-be ex-wife who's looking better than she has in ages. The purple marks underneath her eyes are almost gone, her skin has regained its golden complexion, and her hair looks like it's been properly styled.

And he's not an idiot, he knows Hermione's started looking better ever since she officially moved out.

This paper is the only thing legally binding them together anymore.

Maybe it's because he's been raised with the notion that all marriages are salvageable that his hand trembles as he reaches for the pen.

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger is—were—the love romance conquering social differences and rivalry turning into lovers; at least that's what he thought he'll be telling to their grandchildren for ages to come.

Evidently, their romance tale is another marriage to be swept under the rug and ignored as a dark spot in his life.

Is it too sappy to say they used to be happy? Is it too corny to say they were once in love? Is it too sentimental for Draco to admit that he once thought they were soulmates?

Glancing at the look of impatience on Hermione's face, he thinks it is.

Yet it's all true and he can't deny it; he used to believe their love was a forever love, an always love.

But now there are oceans separating them and the distance isn't something he can easily swim to close the gap.

Just as the pen makes contact with the paper, he turns and stares into Hermione's eyes. He can't help himself; he's weak. "Do you still love me?" he whispers so small that if you weren't paying attention you'd be sure to miss it in the low buzzing of the air conditioner.

Hermione's eyes soften, but the love that used to be there is nowhere to be seen. "Oh, Draco, that's not fair," she sighs. "I guess in a way I always will, but it's not the same anymore and you know it. We're not the same anymore. I'm not that girl from camp and you're not that boy either."

"I'll always love you," he answers honestly, letting his words hang in the air. It's a low blow, but Draco's never been above that.

His heart sinks heavier when Hermione goes rigid in her chair before crossing her arms. "Just sign the papers and stop stalling."

So Draco listens to Hermione and signs the paper.

He's always scoffed at the idea of an out-of-body experience, but he's not so sure now.

Draco sees himself go through the motions of taking his ring off and hugging Hermione who has the prettiest smile with tears falling down her face. The repeated thank you he hears spilling out of her mouth make him want to believe he's done something worthwhile today.

He barely registers leaving the building until the sun shining in full force envelops him in a warm embrace.

There's a man with dull, lifeless eyes and pale, sallow skin standing in the middle of the sidewalk, heart breaking with each passing moment—the reality of the situation just hitting him now that his heart has never felt so light because he doesn't have one anymore—trying not to scream when he hears the laughter of the people around him enjoying the beautiful summer day.