All the usual, I do not own the characters in this story.
"Draco…" his father's voice muttered between surprise and anger, "I forbid this behaviour."
Draco felt the need to gulp, it wasn't every day that he went against his parent's wishes, but then a vision swam in his mind, one that made his heart painfully clench. He took unusual courage from it which willed his head to shake, showing his disagreement as his eyes rested on the floor, unable to cross his father's.
Although Draco would not dare to look up, he heard the tapping on the table from his father's fingers and the seconds ticking from the grandfather's clock. He also heard the disapproving murmurs from the portraits around them and the rattling from the window caused by an autumn storm.
Lucius' demanding voice startled him. "Explain."
Draco fiercely clenched his fists but stilled his voice, and looked up, "Father, there is little to explain. I will not marry her."
His father's lips pursed until they turned a sickly white, and his eyes narrowed in that way that always made Draco's heart beat faster. It didn't matter that he was a young man of 23.
"Negotiations are underway," Lucius Malfoy replied, his voice increasing in volume word by word, "the Greengrass family is reviewing the contract as we speak!" Lucius finished his sentence with his fist punching the ancient desk with more strength than was proper.
"But it isn't signed yet," Draco muttered, squaring his shoulders, an action which did not pass unnoticed by the Head of the house.
"No, it is not." Lucius briefly closed his eyes before continuing, albeit calmer, "Draco, why?"
His father's compromising tone gave him some hope but Draco knew he should not back down an inch, so he slightly raised his pointed chin and did not hesitate, "I don't want to marry her."
"YOU do not want to? Son, you surely can see that Astoria Greengrass is our ONLY option? The only pure-blood available to you?"
Draco slowly inhaled as he heard his father's words. Yes, Astoria was the only one. Not any other witch left in Britain that would meet his family's criteria. Bile crept up to his mouth, attempting to make him sick. Instead, he summoned the vision that had been hunting him for the last few days and frowned.
There was no turning back.
"I will not marry her," Draco stood up and firmly walked towards the desk, his navy robes swishing against the soft carpet, "and believe me father, I have made up my mind. I will not continue this arrangement."
More loud murmurs filled his father's office.
"Outrageous!" His grandfather Abraxas protested from behind his father's back. "Draco, family, nay! purity comes first!"
At this, Lucius raised one of his fine eyebrows and turned from his mother's portrait, the only one silent in that ruckus, to his son. He knew Draco did not love Astoria. No, his son had set his heart on another witch some months ago. Narcissa and he had caught subtle changes in their son during those days. Draco would stop socializing with other witches during balls and parties, he would arrive home absolutely drunk instead of staying at his liaisons', and sometimes, when Draco opened a window and thought he was not being watched, his eyes would lose themselves as the wind blew against his face.
As his parents, they had looked for clues and answers without success, and that is when they decided it was time to marry him to a proper pure-blood witch.
"I will not sacrifice myself, grandfather, not anymore!" Draco snarled towards Abraxas' grand portrait that took most of the green wall, in an unexpected show of disobedience. Indeed! It was all or nothing. "How much do I have to do? Huh? How much longer do I have to follow our rules and suffer the consequences of your choices?"
"Always!" Abraxas raised his voice, and if he were alive his skin would have turned a sick purple for sure, "You are a Malfoy! You must obey our principles!" And even the fire crackled some more, surely reacting to old magic.
Draco growled, prepared to reply to his ancestor when his father interrupted them, "Enough!"
None spoke again until Draco stopped huffing and all the portraits quieted.
Meanwhile, Lucius watched again his mother's collected image. He knew what his real mother would have said if she were alive. That family came first. If he had followed her advice instead of his father's, Lucius was sure their lives might be better.
"Draco, have a seat," asked Lucius, a new light shining through his eyes. He then took out his wand, and with a swish, Lucius silenced the portraits much to their apparent dismay. He sighed as he saw his son sternly seated in front of him. He was not a boy anymore, but a man. Could he dare impose the marriage after everything the family had gone through? "I must confess, Draco, that I do not know what to do."
Draco watched his father lean back on his upholstered chair, his signet ring sparkling for a second under his father's chin. However, he could not have expected Lucius's next words. "I will stop the negotiations, albeit momentarily. This is a decision your mother needs to be involved in."
Unable to hold it any longer, a breath came out of his mouth, and Draco closed his eyes. He could not believe it. He had done it. He had gained some time. And maybe… maybe, it was enough. Enough to become a chance.
His passion for Alchemy had set him to work in the experimental section of the Ministry a couple of years back. At first, Draco had thought of pursuing the ancient science from his house, away from a society that tagged him as the Death Eater he had been, but then destiny meddled.
His father and mother had been just released from house arrest and that morning he had decided to accompany them in a last-minute resolve. After signing the paperwork, they met with an old associate who offered Draco a position in the experimental magic department after knowing of his interest in Alchemy.
Lucius had started declining such a preposterous job offer when Draco accepted it, however. If he hadn't decided to accompany them that morning, his father would have taken that decision from him, and Draco would not have had the best job he could have wished for.
A job that gave him the ground to build back his life. And so his days were filled with Alchemy and experiments, parties and old friends and the occasional family obligations.
That morning, just a couple after his parents decided to halt any marriage negotiations, Draco slowly walked towards the object he had been studying for the last fortnight, barely holding his breath.
The object took much of the free space he had in his small laboratory even as it rested against one of the brick walls, covered in a piece of purple fabric. But even as it hid behind the cloth, Draco could feel its magic -most probably alchemical- that attracted wizards like bees to pollen.
Sure enough, like a bee himself, Draco tried in vain to stop his feet from moving and his right hand from pulling the fabric that covered it. With a sumptuous movement, the fabric fell quietly on the floor, showing a clear surface that for a second mirrored his expectant eyes.
And then, the reflected image swirled with magic and what he saw took his breath away and made his heart beat faster than it always did since he first set eyes on it. His shaking fingers touched the mirror, exactly where she was, lovingly smiling at him.
"Salazar!" he whispered to the woman in the mirror, "I want you so much."
At his words, she kept smiling at him from the garden bench she was seated on, an unknown place that at first had miffed him. Why wasn't she at the Manor? His family house was grandiose and rich. But then, he understood what his heart was telling him. He would give her anything she wanted, anything she requested, even the decision on where they would live if he had the opportunity to enamour her. And he would do it without a doubt. If only to show her that he would do everything for her.
She kept smiling only to stop when a little boy with white-blond hair jumped into her arms. He had appeared the morning after Lucius accepted his request, a sign of what his heart now hoped for. Draco chuckled and whispered to the boy that now rested his blond head on his mother's chest and sucked his thumb, "Hello, my son," he whispered, his yearning fingers now on the little head, "how I wish I could hold you."
His eyes roamed over the scene, engraving it in his mind. Her long brown curls that he knew were not frizzy anymore in real life. The freckles he peeked at every early morning when they both got to the Ministry, took the lift and exited it in Level Two. Her arms, which normally held a stack of files, that warmly held the boy. A boy that looked a perfect mix of the two of them, with her nose and her eyebrows, but his grey eyes and chin, and of course the Malfoy hair.
His body stilled in a mix of painful longing and hope.
From his first day of work, he would cross paths with her, every morning and night without fail when they arrived and left the Ministry, always at the same hour, too early or too late for everyone else. And at the lift, they would exchange a simple muttered Good Morning or a Good Night. Ignoring each other afterwards.
But then, a few months ago, something changed, not that it happened overnight, but gradually. Curiosity crept in, his mind wondering what new law she was working on when he saw her arrive, or if she still took the same breakfast she did back in Hogwarts. Sometimes she would look tired and he would bite his lip to avoid asking her why she hadn't rested that night as his eyes roamed the walls or the floor from the lift. Then, he started noticing her clothes and robes, how they hugged or hid her body curves. Then her smell… Merlin! Her smell! He would find himself wanting to sniff her hair or, better yet, her neck and brush his lips and nose on her visible skin.
When they left, Draco would watch her leave with a stack of work and wondered if her boyfriend in turn would mind. If she was on her way to meet her friends or shag someone.
Draco then would crave for more than just mere words, but he was still a coward that could not dare to say more. Desperately, he began to wish for her to guess the same about him. Could she reconcile with their past and give him at least a glance?
He knew who he was, a Malfoy. Even if he had changed and matured, and suffered and lost. He was still a Malfoy. And she… she would not accept him.
During those days, she had been single after breaking up with her latest boyfriend but Draco didn't lie to himself. She probably still despised him and, most importantly, she would sooner or later go back to Weasley.
The truth broke him and made him drown in great quantities of alcohol in an attempt to forget about his misery. He would not tolerate any other witch, repulsion vibrating from his body at the mere thought of approaching another woman that wasn't her. Then his parents started to arrange his marriage and Draco thought he was saved. His infatuation would diminish over time and if Astoria was kind as people said she was, he would probably learn to love her.
And then, the Erised mirror was delivered to his lab. Draco would always remember the great care with which he uncovered it and the torment it inflicted on him after standing still, observing her for the first time through the mirror. How could he ignore what his heart desired? Draco realized he would never forget her. She would always be part of his life like a ghost, haunting him with what-ifs. A few days later, he decided to at least take some control of his life. He would not marry Astoria.
Back from his memories, Draco sighed, preparing himself to cover again the mirror when something changed in the reflection. A new, baby boy appeared in her arms, happily sleeping as she cooed and probably sang to him. Draco staggered backwards, his hands searching for the edge of his desk and holding onto it as if his life depended on it.
"This is getting out of control." His eyes opened wide, moving behind his desk as if it would protect him from the reflection. He huffed and pulled his blond hair as his eyes found the baby again while the older boy jumped and ran around the image. His breathing quickened.
"Can I…?" The little hope he had disappeared, his voice hard and low under his shielding arms, "No… She will not."
More unintelligible words came out of his mouth, his eyes on the floor, roaming, looking for something that wasn't there but that desperately yearned for consolation. His hunted eyes flew to the mirror and, with a swish of his wand, the purple fabric flew and covered it, giving him finally a respite. He crumpled to the floor before his back rested on the opposite wall and a tormented howl left his mouth.
That evening, after an unproductive day at work, his heart pounded fiercely as he walked towards the lifts, at the same hour as every night. He struggled to keep walking when he found her there, grabbing the attention of a bulky wizard with signature maintenance robes. Draco promptly approached them.
"I'm awfully sorry Miss, Mister. We're doin' some maintenance routine on the lifts. We sen' a memo to all employees las' week, Miss, an' thought wouldn't be an'body left." said the maintenance clerk behind his heavy moustache as he moved his wand towards the lifts, casting spells Draco couldn't recognize.
Hermione Granger cleared her throat, "How long will it take?" she asked.
"No' much Miss, maybe 'round an hour? two?"
He heard her sigh. "For heaven's sake!" she exclaimed from his side, holding tightly her stack of parchments with her right arm while she checked the hour on her left wrist. She sounded tired. "Thank you, sir."
"Sorry for the trouble, Miss."
Draco will never know what made him utter a word. Maybe it had been the mirror, or maybe an unknown surge of bravery, but he cleared his throat and turned to her.
"Granger. Want some tea?" he asked and saw her jump in surprise. Had she forgotten he was there? Or simply she hadn't expected him to talk to her?
Either way, Hermione scrutinized him for a second, narrowing her eyes. He forced his face to look as impassive as possible although inside he was dying of nerves. But what could he lose? Why not?
"We both have to wait," Draco added, hiding his hands in his pockets for mental support. What seemed like an eternity passed until finally he saw her slowly nod, giving him a chance.
"Fine." Hermione tilted her head, "Tea sounds lovely actually. Meeting room A?"
He smirked for the first time in months, his heart pounding in joy, "Fine by me." Side by side, they walked together for the first time in their lives.