Back to May 2003
The morning after the Ministry Ball, Draco woke up with the sunlight right on his face.
"What the fuck?" He groaned, trying to move to protect himself from the offending light, but all he managed was to feel pain. "Close the damn curtains, love. It's Saturday." He mumbled, his head seeming to weigh a ton and his whole body protesting his sleeping arrangements.
He cracked one eye open to see why Hermione hadn't closed the curtains and found himself lying on the couch at his flat – his very uncomfortable, bought-just-for-the-aesthetics couch.
It took Draco a minute to remember why he was at his flat and not at the sweet home he shared with his girlfriend.
"Fuck." He exhaled as he remembered: ex-girlfriend.
The previous night's events slowly came to his mind: the pictures for the Prophet, the announcement of his engagement, getting ready for the Ball under his mother's disapproving gaze, the Ball and finally going home just to have Hermione kick him out of her life.
Shit.
He hadn't thought she'd do that; he indeed had hoped she would stay by his side – even as he paraded the obnoxious Miss Greengrass around and married her.
He grimaced, looking back on that he could clearly see the chances of Hermione truly doing it were slim, he had hoped she would understand he had no way out of that marriage contract without losing at least three of the Malfoy properties to the Greengrasses due to breach of contract.
Rich, pureblood fathers knew how to draw profitable wedding contracts for their daughters.
Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, sucked at it.
Luckily I don't have a sister. Girl would be doomed, if she existed.
Draco sat up slowly, starting to remove his white dress shirt, finding one cufflink gone and not giving a fuck – those were his father's gold cufflinks, he hadn't even wanted to wear them in the first place.
He threw the shirt on the floor and heard the sound of a mug landing softly on the coffee table and looked up.
"Not a bleached bitch's coffee" was written on the mug and he didn't know if he smiled or cried.
Hermione had teased him a lot about the time it took him to shower; she used to say he took his time because he was bleaching his roots – such accusation had him needing to defend himself that he was a natural blond and not a bleached bitch.
Hence the mug's saying – a present from her for their two-year anniversary.
He grabbed the mug and drank the hot sweet coffee.
Few times in his life had Draco wished he weren't who he was – he was proud of his family's history and had been raised to respect that.
But when he was sixteen and was forced to take the Dark Mark, that had been the first time he thought it would be better to be somebody else.
When the Dark Lord decided to live in Wiltshire, in his family home, Draco once more wished he belonged to any other family but the Malfoy family.
And now, when he had had to choose duty to said family over the woman he loved, he wished with all his heart he wasn't the next Lord Malfoy.
He finished his coffee, remembering the many times he had whispered in Hermione's ear that he was going to marry her – his heart's strongest desire.
Even though his mind had always known it could never be.
He recalled a conversation he had had with Theo Nott the day he decided to move into Hermione's house.
FLASHBACK
Theo frowned as he watched his friend getting ready to move in with Granger.
"Why are you doing this, Draco?" he asked in a unusual serious tone.
"I love her, Theo." Draco admitted. "You know all that sappy shit of loving someone so much you want them to be the last thing you look at before sleep and the first thing you gaze upon as you wake up?"
Theo made a face: "I've never heard a more disgusting saying before."
"Well, it's true. I enjoy her company. I like sharing my life with her. Hermione is perfect. Intelligent, sexy, kinky."
"Will you marry her then?" Theo asked. "Give old Lucy a heart attack by having his own son take the Malfoys and the Blacks out of the Sacred List."
Draco glared at him and Theo's frown deepened: "Will you marry Granger, Draco?"
He sighed, "No. I know I can't."
"So I'll ask you again: why are you doing this? If she were a pureblood witch, you'd never be allowed to court her for two years without having the intention to marry her – much less move in with her without any such promise!"
Draco didn't reply.
"You are being selfish." Theo said with disgust. "Using her-"
"I love her!" Draco nearly shouted.
"It doesn't matter. You won't honour her. Love without respect means nothing."
Draco kept on magically packing his things, knowing Theo was right.
END OF FLASHBACK
"Fuck." Draco groaned, holding his head on his hands.
Theo had been right, Draco hadn't honoured Hermione, he had moved in with her knowing he would never be able to put her first in his life, fully aware he would never fulfil the vow he made her nearly nightly: I'll marry you, Granger.
And now she was out of his life, and he was on the path he has been raised to walk: Lord of the manor, Head of an empire, with a proper wife by his side.
Lord Malfoy.
Miserable.
Three days later, Draco stared at his reflection in the mirror and sighed; he was impeccably dressed, as usual; suit, tie, his favourite dragonhide shoes, not a hair out of place, cologne applied at just the right amount and a perfectly shaved face.
Work responsibilities didn't care he felt like shit, decisions had to be made and he was the one who had to do them. Yes, he had got that job only because his great-great-grandfather had founded that company and he was the heir of that whole empire – but he wasn't going to sit back and let others do the work for him (like his father chose to do). No. Draco enjoyed learning about the company where his family fortune was invested and multiplied.
Well, he enjoyed it on most days.
That day in particular, he hated he had to leave his flat, there would certainly be questions about his whereabouts for the past two workdays.
But as it turned out he didn't even have to leave his house before the questions started.
While he was having breakfast, his floo activated and his mother walked out of the green flames – something he was surprised hadn't happened two days ago, when he failed to show up at the Malfoy Enterprises' offices on Monday morning.
"So, you're still alive." Said Narcissa as she sat in front of him at the table. "And living here now?"
Draco pretended confusion, "I've been living here for the past four years, mom."
She looked at him. "Oh. You think I don't know. Cute." She finished with a smirk.
"What is it that I think you don't know?" he kept pretending not to understand.
"About Granger." She said, ordering next: "Eli, tea, please!"
"Right away, Lady Malfoy." Replied the elf, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.
Draco slowly lowered his cutlery to his plate and looked at her, still not saying anything.
Narcissa continued: "I honestly thought you'd introduce her to us as your chosen fiancée months ago. Now we're stuck with that insipid Greengrass girl!"
Draco frowned, no longer attempting to pretend that wasn't true. "Why would I take Hermione home when you and father have been clear I had no choice but to find a pure-blood witch to marry and sire a little pure-blood heir for you?" his gaze as hard as hers. "Father has just forced me into a wedding with a woman I barely tolerate!"
"First of all, my opinions have changed after... you know."
He did know – they had both changed after witnessing his deranged aunt torturing Hermione on the floor of their drawing room.
Narcissa continued after sipping her tea. "I thought you'd tell us to fuck off and that you loved Granger and was marrying her whether we liked it or not. I kept your father from signing this marriage contract with the Greengrasses for as long as I could, Draco." She held his angry stare. "Lucius wanted to have you married a year after you finished Hogwarts, you know." She sighed as if annoyed by that subject. "I see now I stalled him for no reason, for your feelings for Granger weren't as deep as I thought they were."
"Excuse me?" Draco asked, frowning.
"I won't repeat myself like a commoner, Draco." Narcissa dismissed him and took another sip from her tea. Her blue eyes on her son over the rim of her cup, seeing it was clear he was not doing well after the break up.
"You intend on going to work today?" she asked, noticing his attire.
"Yes."
"By your three-day vanishing act, I take it Granger didn't like to learn of your engagement and kicked you out."
Draco just glared at her, refusing to answer that for it was obvious.
"Now," she continued. "I'll be working closely with her during the next month and would like to know if there's anything I should be aware of. Is she prejudiced against us? How angry was she with the news of your wedding?"
"Wait. What?" Draco looked at her as if the notion of Narcissa working anywhere made no sense at all: "Why are you working? And with her of all people?"
"Yesterday I volunteered to be the organizer of the Ministry's next Charity gala, that will take place on the 5th of July, and Miss Granger is the one who'll oversee the gala's budget since it's for her Department's sake."
Draco chewed on his eggs and bacon while he digested what his mother had just told him. She'd be working closely with Hermione – a witch whose blood-status she once despised but now had volunteered to work alongside, for free.
"Mom, why are you doing this?" he had to ask.
"Boredom, Draco." Narcissa replied with an eye-roll. "I hate to stay around the Manor with nothing to do since you've failed to grace me with a grandchild and a daughter-in-law to keep me entertained."
He glared at her and took another bite of his food.
"So?" Insisted Narcissa. "Is there anything I should be aware of?"
"No. Hermione holds no grudges regarding you. And even though we didn't part on friendly terms, she is not the kind of woman to be rude to anyone."
"I imagined so." She replied finishing her tea and adding under her breath: "Leave it to you to fuck the most coveted witch in the wizarding world for four years and not face your own parents for her. Causing all this unnecessary drama."
He looked at her in surprise, "Face my- What the fuck are you talking about?"
Narcissa looked at him with pity and exasperation; she could tell him what he should have done, that he should have stood up to her and Lucius and proved that he loved Granger enough to tell the Sacred Twenty-Eight to fuck off. She knew Lucius would scream and throw a huge tantrum – as the big man-child he turned into when things didn't go his way. But in the end, Narcissa's word would be the decisive one – and she no longer held any prejudices against muggleborns, specially not against one that was brilliant and made her son happy.
But Draco had blown his chance of happiness himself; and it was past time for her to let him face and solve his mistakes on his own.
"You're a bright wizard, my son, you'll figure it out by yourself." said Narcissa, standing up and adding: "At least I hope you will."
She walked to him and kissed his forehead, "Have a good day, my love."
And she left.