May 2003
Another Ministry gala. Hermione Granger thought as she stood in the beautifully decorated main Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, surrounded by war survivors and fighters; from aurors to civilians, all gathered to celebrate the five-year anniversary of the end of the Second Wizarding War.
She, as a condecorated War Heroine, had dressed up in a long periwinkle formal dress, tied her messy curls in an elegant bun at the back of her head, added some jewellery to her ears, fingers and neck, and forced herself to stay at least an hour at that celebration – after the day she had had, she only wanted to go home and brace herself for a different kind of battle she'd have to fight that night: one against her heart.
"...obviously I told him I didn't care what other people will say." Harry was talking beside her, she had no idea what he was on about though.
"It's been five years since the war ended!" Harry continued, "Even the Malfoys are welcomed in public again."
"Yes." Hermione replied with a smile, but she had been barely paying attention, for five minutes ago a tall blond man had walked into that party with a beautiful brunette on his arm and all attentions had turned to them – including hers.
Dubbed 'The couple of the year' by that morning's Daily Prophet, the two heirs of three powerful Sacred-Twenty-Eight families, Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass, had had their upcoming nuptials announced in the front page of the newspaper's social section.
Hermione glanced at the blond man, dressed in a mouth-watering tuxedo that seemed to have been made for him – and knowing him she knew it certainly had.
It should be illegal to be that fit. She let out a sigh and sipped her champagne, nearly spitting it out as it hit her tastebuds.
"Didn't like the bubbles, Mione?" Asked Ronald Weasley.
She controlled her desire to roll her eyes, Fucking hate that nickname, "No, Ron, not sweet enough for me. But I'm still recovering from a stomach bug, I shouldn't be drinking anyway." She put her flute on a table and it vanished to the kitchens to be washed and refilled.
She kept on glancing around the room, finding it impossible to ignore the "Couple of The Year" since everyone was looking or going towards them to give them their best wishes.
Fucking stupid bleached bitch. Hermione mentally growled, not meaning Astoria at all. She knew the Malfoy heir was a natural blond, but she liked to tease him by saying he bleached his hair.
She watched him walk around the party, all politeness and poise – playing the perfect Lord he had been raised to be.
Hermione fisted her hand, wishing she could just climb him and fuck him until he was moaning her muggle surname.
"Mione?" she heard someone calling her and felt a hand on her arm. "Hermione?"
"What?" she replied, clearing her throat, realizing she had been lost in her on thoughts.
She looked at Harry, "What? What is it?"
"It's time for the speech." He said with a concerned look, glancing briefly at where she had been staring before.
Yes, the blasted speech. She complained internally – suddenly realizing she had slowly become something of a grumpy moaner after years dating the Slytherin Prince.
She just nodded at Harry and he and Ron followed her onto the stage near the Fountain.
Boring, boring, brain-numbing boring. Hermione thought as she stood in front of the stage and listened to Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt's speech. Can't we just leave the war behind? For fuck's sake, I don't want to be doing this fifty years for now! I'll end this stupidity once I'm Minister of Magic.
"Great speech, Miss Granger." She heard a familiar voice speaking beside her. "Very... inspirational. Albeit familiar."
Hermione turned her head slowly at him, and if daggers literally shot from one's eyes, Draco Malfoy would be dead.
She knew she couldn't give him any rude replies, they were in public, cameras flashing every second and reporters listening at every corner.
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy." she spoke with a smile, but he could hear the sneer in her tone. "She's truly beautiful, your bride. Your father chose well."
He dared to smirk at her and the mental image of having him on the floor moaning her name with his stupid perfect hair all mussed returned to her mind.
She wanted to punch him, but Theodore Nott saved his friend from a purple cheek.
"Hey, Lord Malfoy." Theo said mockingly. "What the fuck is this shit I'm hearing around the party about you being engaged to a Greengrass?" He looked from Hermione to his friend, "I thought the G I'd see in your wedding invitation would be-"
"That's enough, Theodore!" Draco exclaimed, covering his friend's mouth with a hand and looking at Hermione's surprised face. "Yes, he knows." He whispered before ushering Theo away from the party, making sure he safely took the floo home.
Hermione was surprised to learn Draco had told Nott about their relationship – or former relationship after the recent announcement.
She sighed in annoyance as she saw Draco walking back from the fireplaces area; his grey eyes fixed on her honey-coloured ones. But he was stopped by his fiancée on his way back to her.
"They make a truly beautiful couple, don't you think?" asked Ginny standing beside her.
"Oh, yes. Beautiful." Hermione nodded, before taking a glass of orange juice from the nearby drinks table and making sure to keep her back to the "beautiful couple" for the rest of the night.
Draco knew Hermione was furious – and he wouldn't deny she had reason to be.
He hoped she didn't hex him on sight once he arrived home, and gave him a chance to explain it all to her.
In the two hours he had had to stay at the party, he watched her dance with one of the older Weasleys – the one that liked animals and worked under her since she had become the Head of the Magical Creatures' Rights Department.
Charles Weasley – that was the ginger's name – was always around her.
Hermione had told Draco more than once that the Weasley was just a good friend and co-worker, but Draco knew men were pigs and Hermione was the most perfect witch any wizard would love to call his – only she didn't see it.
And Draco's jealous mind worried she might leave him for the ginger man. After all, money wasn't something Hermione valued; if Weasley made her laugh and fucked rough, Draco knew there was a chance he could lose her.
After three songs, Charlie left, and Hermione sat on a stool at the fancy bar that had been added specially for the party in one corner of the Atrium and ordered a sparkling lemonwater – avoiding alcohol since it seemed she was still recovering from the food poisoning she had had the week before.
"Hi, Granger." She heard a woman say from the stool beside her. "Haven't seen you in a while." It was Astoria Greengrass, of all people, and she looked at Hermione with a conceited smile.
"Hi, Miss Greengrass." Hermione returned the smile, "Congratulations on your engagement."
"Oh, yes." Astoria looked down at the large emerald and diamonds ring on her right hand. "An amazing marriage! Draco will take on his father's title as soon as we get married. I'll be Lady Malfoy." The woman boasted.
And Hermione felt the need to punch someone for the second time that evening.
"Great. If that's your life aspiration." She sneered. "Pass my well-wishes to Mr. Malfoy." Although condolences make more sense. She added mentally.
"Well, you can do it yourself." Astoria said, looking somewhere behind Hermione. "Here he is."
Hermione schooled her face to not show anything and turned around to look at him; Damn him and his good-looks! she thought as she tried hard not to salivate while quickly looking down his body.
"Mr. Malfoy." She said with fake cheerfulness and a sweet smile. "I was just telling your fiancée that I'd like to pass on to you my best wishes." She turned to Astoria. "Don't forget to send me an invitation."
"Oh, I won't." The brunette replied.
"Miss Granger." Draco nodded his head once, sensing his chances of not getting hexed had just plummeted.
"I learned of your engagement this morning, through the Prophet, like many others." Hermione continued, unable to control her explosion to a more private setting. "I can't honestly begin to tell you how surprised I was."
Draco fisted his hands but kept his eyes on hers, "It was as much as a surprise to me, Miss Granger." He said in a low voice that she recognized he used when he thought she was being improper.
"Well," Hermione went on. "Surprises apart, I wish you two all the happiness." Was that sarcasm? It sure was.
Draco returned her smile but his grey eyes stared into hers intently.
"Thank you, Miss Granger." He replied nearly gritting his teeth. Then he turned to look at Astoria. "Are you ready to leave?"
"Yes, Drake." The woman replied, hooking her arm on his and bidding Hermione good night.
Drake. Hermione snorted, she knew how much he hated that nickname.
The Gryffindor watched the beautiful Slytherin couple walk arm in arm to the apparition spot and disappear.
Shit, that was going to be a long night. Breaking up with one's beloved was never easy. Breaking up with Draco Malfoy, who certainly saw no problem in accepting his father's choice of bride for him, was going to be a pain.
She finished her lemonwater, wishing it was something stronger, and went home.
Hermione stood in her warm and cosy living room for a minute, silence meeting her, and she let out a sigh; that house had witnessed all the happiness she had been blessed with after the war. And yet, that night, that same place was going to see her pain, her anger and heartbreak.
She'd bought that house in Hogsmeade with part of the money from her Order of Merlin First Class and the financial compensation the government gave to the Golden Trio and all of those that had fought in the war voluntarily.
Hermione removed her high heels and walked to the kitchen, setting a kettle to boil for tea and looking around the open-concept floor as she waited.
There wasn't a surface of that place where they hadn't fucked. Draco had bent her over the kitchen island numerous times; she had rode him on that sofa weakly.
Not to mention all the times he had sat on the chair at the head of the table and pulled her to his lap, making her warm his cock while they had dinner.
Fuck, she would cream her knickers just thinking about those things.
But her thoughts were interrupted by the Floo activating, and she watched the reason of her anger and sadness (and ruined knickers) walk out of the green flames, throwing his tailored coat on her sofa, kicking his expensive dragon hide shoes off and pulling his tie loose, as if he had just arrived home – which in a way he had, considering that half of the master bedroom closet, the "tidy side", had held his clothes for the past two years.
"Hey, love." Draco greeted her. "Have you got your wand on you?"
She shook her head before she had time to understand his reason for that question.
"Good." He exhaled, arms open wide as he approached her.
But Hermione stopped him from pulling her close to his chest.
"What are you doing here, Draco?"
He frowned. "I'm home after spending two hours in an obnoxious gathering I was forced to attend."
"Right." She crossed her arms on her chest. "To attend with your fiancée." She stared daggers at him. "Pray tell me, Drake, how do you think I felt when I sat in my office this morning to read the Prophet and the first thing I saw was the announcement of your engagement?"
He had the decency to grimace, "That was the reason my parents called me home yesterday. Father drew a marriage contract with the Greengrasses without telling me anything. I've been trying to find a way out but... those purebloods' wedding contracts are filled with rules and-"
"Wait." She interrupted him: "You have been trying- Since when have you known about it?"
"Last week." Draco winced, knowing she'd be even madder about it.
"So you've known about it for a whole week and didn't tell me?"
"I didn't think you'd want to know. I was going to tell you everything once I nullified it, love."
"And how far are you from nullifying it?"
He winced, "According to my lawyer... five years."
"Five... years?" she frowned in confusion.
"Yes. There's a five-year clause that states that the marriage is automatically nullified if no heirs are produced within that time." He began to open his cuff buttons. "I didn't want to bother you with-"
"Bother me?" she growled, starting to raise her voice, enraged: "You thought I would just be bothered about you marrying another woman? Are you fucking kidding me?"
Draco, who didn't seem frazzled about that situation at all, explained in a calm tone: "Look, my father gave me until last month to introduce him a bride of my own choosing. When I failed to do so, I thought he'd just give up, but instead he took matters into his own hands."
A few heavy silent seconds went by, and Hermione knew they had finally reached the crucial point of that conversation.
"And why is it, Draco," she asked with a heavy heart, "that you failed to introduce a bride of your choosing to your family?"
"And what should I have done?" he looked at her serious face and barked a laugh as if she had gone crazy: "You mean I should've taken you? They will never accept you, love!"
She gaped slightly as she watched him laugh; her heart breaking at his complete disregard for her feelings.
She knew she shouldn't be surprised it had come to that though. Their relationship was a secret, not even her closest friends knew and Draco had never shown true desire of turning it public – except, apparently, for Theodore Nott.
He opened the fridge, looking for something sweet as usual, as if they weren't in the middle of discussing his upcoming nuptials with some pure-blood bint.
"Right." Hermione nodded, turning to the sink and resuming making her tea. "Your parents won't ever accept me."
"At least the Greengrass is good-looking." Draco spoke as he poured himself a glass of wine. "We'll look good in the pictures together for the next five years." He playfully added.
But Hermione didn't turn to face him again, his words allowing her to think that he didn't think she'd look good in the pictures by his side.
Was that her insecurity speaking? Yes.
Didn't she know purebloods laws would force him to find a Mrs. Draco Malfoy before his twenty-fifth birthday? She did.
But he hadn't even considered her for the role, even though they were in love and had spent the last four years fucking each other's brains out.
"So," Hermione finally spoke. "You're here to pick up your things?"
Draco stopped smiling, his wine goblet frozen in his hand a few centimetres from him lips. He lowered it to the kitchen island and looked at her with a frown, his whole body going stiff. "What?"
She spelled it out for him: "You've just announced your engagement, Draco. To someone else. You think I'll keep fucking you while you play house with Astoria?"
"That's not my fault! I had no say in the matter, love! You can't be serious!"
"Not your fault?" She began in a whisper, "That's so typically Malfoy!" her voice grew louder. "Nothing seems to ever be your fault!" and she was shouting with sarcasm: "Poor you!"
He looked at her in confusion. "I don't understand your anger. You knew my parents were going to force me to marry within the next two years!"
"Yes. I did!" She kept on shouting at him, the desire to punch him surging again. "And I thought that it would be to ME!"
"They wouldn't have accepted you!" Draco repeated, looking at her with hesitancy. "Please, love, listen to me... I didn't think my father would do this..."
"Forget it, Draco. Stop bringing your father up every time you have a problem! Own your mistakes!" she nearly shouted. "I know very well how bitchy you can get when something doesn't go your way; for Merlin's sake I've seen you throw a full hissy fit over Theo eating your Belgian chocolates at the flat and yet you seem only annoyed that you were forced into a wedding contract!" She turned her back to him and sipped her tea. "Get your things and leave."
"Do you really want me to go?" he asked, watching her eyes close and her hands tremble, but her voice was firm when she replied:
"I do. You're engaged to marry another woman."
"You're really breaking up with me?" he asked in a worried voice, his hesitancy turning into fear.
"Yes, I am."
"Granger... love." He took a step towards her.
"No! Don't you dare touch me!" She raised her voice again, battering his hands away and glaring at him. "Get your things and leave my house, Malfoy. You have one hour."
Forty minutes later
Draco walked out of the green flames into his flat and sat on the large contemporary sofa in front of the fireplace, trying to understand what had just happened.
"Master Draco." Greeted his house elf.
"Hey, Eli." He replied weakly.
"Can Eli do something for Master?"
Draco shook his head.
Eli hesitated, looking from his Master to the fireplace.
"Is Master's love coming tonight? Should Eli get out of sight?" the elf knew his Master's girlfriend didn't like to see elves working – she called it 'slavery'.
"No, Eli." Draco said, running a hand through his hair. "She's not coming tonight. Or ever again. And you must stop calling her my love."
"But... she is." the elf was confused.
"Fuck Eli, aren't you listening?" he growled, staring at the elf with anger. "She's not my anything!" he picked up his shrank bag from his pocket and threw it at the elf. "Put my things in my closet."
Eli picked up the bag with a worried gaze. "Right away, Master Draco."
Draco lowered his head to his hands, feeling miserable.
He had lost her.
Once more his family had forced him down a path he didn't want and he found himself unable to maintain control of his life.
He ran a hand through his hair, his heart beating painfully through the anguish constricting his chest.
He went to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a double shot of firewhisky, returning to the sofa with the bottle and letting his mind shut off that night's events, taking himself on a trip down memory lane, to a time when he had his life under his control – and his eyes on a pretty witch he shouldn't want.
Note: This is pretty much all written already, we'll have about 10 chapters.
Hope you enjoy my first Dramione ride!