Title: And She Will Be Loved
Author Name: Melissa Spitfire
Author email: melissa underscore spitfire at yahoo dot com (this isn't meant to be a link, but still it screwed up…)
Category: Romance
Sub Category: Angst
Keywords: Draco Malfoy Hermione Granger Auror
Rating: R
Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP, a little HBP there but I won't tell where
Summary: She never ever felt that she really belonged; never ever felt that she was really wanted. She is nothing but a shadow. But he is the ground where the shadow was cast, and it is in his deepest desires to make her see herself otherwise.
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/n: Highly inspired by Maroon Five's "She Will Be Loved." So I don't suppose I should say that this is a songfic? Anyways... My first ever attempt on a Harry Potter fic, so please take this easy on me:grins sheepishly:
Another thing…
This is supposed to be the last chapter, but I decided to split it into two, because in all honesty I feel that it is far too long. And I also want to apologize for the very long delay on this fic. For the past month I've been touring different places non-stop, I couldn't even sit down and just post this in the net… And as of press time my nose is bleeding because the weather's such a pain… But don't worry; nothing a little first aid that I learned wouldn't remedy, so I'll get by. I'm a tough cookie.
Oh and by the by, if you still don't know about it, a lot of very good D/Hr fics are nominated (and some recently awarded) in the Dangerous Liasons, so if you're looking for really good reads, check the site: (just decode this one: eychteeteepicolondoubleslashtripledoubleudotimperviusdotorgslashdangerousslashawardsslashawardunderscorebee… Figures, ne?)
Enjoy my humble offering!
Finale: Dare to Move
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay a while
And she will be loved
And she will be loved
... Please don't try so hard to say goodbye
Please don't try so hard to say goodbye
... I've tried so hard to say goodbye...
The doors to the Malfoy Manor's sitting room burst open as Lucius entered the room, intent on retrieving his snakehead staff, his sable Cagoule rushing behind him.
Narcissa soon followed while fixing her deep purple floor length dress conspicuously, her gray eyes scanning the room, and then she noticed a lone figure sitting on the chair in front of the burning fireplace. She approached the chair and sat on its arm. "We'll be off, Draco." Narcissa placed her hand on Draco's shoulder before fixing the collar of her son's shirt while he sat in front of the fireplace, wand being twirled between his fingers and an impassive look on his face.
"I'll follow soon, Mother." He retorted without removing his gaze at the flying embers on the furnace.
Narcissa detected the distant tone in his voice, and she fought her maternal instincts from showing and suppressed the urge to wrap her arms around her only child. It was like he lost all hope to continue his life, as if there was no reason for him to continue anymore. For years, Narcissa never saw Draco give up; Lucius' lecture about the Malfoy Code gave him enough confidence and determination to get what he wanted. Although he always rated second best, she saw the efforts he had given just to make them proud. And Narcissa Malfoy is indeed proud of her son.
"Who are you going with, by the way?" She prodded.
Draco grumbled something incoherent, something that suspiciously sounded like 'Damn Blaise,' before sighing dismissively and answering. "Pansy, who else?"
"Oh? I see..." She was shocked, to say the least. Shouldn't he be going with Hermione? Why isn't he going with Hermione? Did the efforts she exerted on putting two and two together go in vain?
"Narcissa. Let's go." Lucius tapped his cane impatiently against the carpeted floor.
"Just a minute, Lucius." She said over her shoulder, before turning to her son. "We'll be going now." Narcissa caressed Draco's cheek she swore she felt him lean in to her touch slightly and smiled at her son lovingly before standing to move towards the door.
When Narcissa reached the door Lucius was already holding it open for her. She stared at her husband pointedly, blue-rimmed orbs silently pleading for his support, but then sighed tiredly upon encountering the barrier in his eyes before walking out of the door.
Lucius understood the message Narcissa was trying to send him but he didn't know what to do. He wasn't used to comforting his son, or any person for that matter. He wasn't nice and kind and amicable to start with; Malfoys always were indifferent and unyielding. Everyone knew he was a dictator, that stoicism and sarcasm were Malfoy past times, but the sight of his son made him want to drop dead on the floor and die of guilt for not knowing how to comfort him.
Draco's human side definitely rooted from Narcissa. He knew that all too well, but was expressing emotions or going daft, as told in Malfoy Code of Conduct page 3an act of defying standards? Isn't it proof that the Malfoys, as any mudblood or muggle-lover, were also human despite their queer disposition...? Lucius knew that. His heart yearned to reach out toDraco, but he didn't know how. So instead, he said what he thought would be the most comforting to his son.
"Forget that girl and get a life, Draco." Lucius gritted out in his most Lucius Malfoy-ish manner.
"Father?"
"Nothing." Lucius turned. 'Nothing you won't be able to figure out yourself.' He thought acidly before closing the door behind them.
As the Malfoys walked into the receiving ballroom of the manor, Narcissa glanced at her husband from her peripheral. "Way to be smooth, Lucius. Way to be smooth, indeed." She said stiffly. And here she thought that her son would finally find happiness...
"You know me, Narcissa. I'm certain the boy would get the message." He responded before leading her out of the manor and into the cold winter night.
"Forget that girl and get a life, Draco."
When Draco heard these words from his Father, his heart tightened. He couldn't ever, for the life of Merlin, understand what his Father just told him. He understood his Father literally, but as to what the underlying meaning to his words were, he couldn't decipher. It was either sarcastic or sincere, and to add to that, his tone didn't help much.
The moment the door clicked close, the flames of the fireplace rose higher and turned green. Soon after, a face appeared in its midst.
"Draco Malfoy! You look absolutely dashing!"
Draco smirked. "That's the understatement of the year, Pansy. Don't worry, I'll see to it that my personal owl delivers that to Witch Weekly in time for the cut-off." He yawned, as if to emphasize boredom. "Are you done yet?"
Pansy appeared to be thinking about something as profound as to what Severus Snape wears to bed, but then she shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, almost."
"Then expect me in two minutes." Draco stood from his seat and grabbed the perfectly pressed cloak hanging at the back of his wingback chair and the pure white handkerchief folded neatly on the arm of the chair, and then poised his wand above him, ready to apparate.
"Wait, wait!" She said hastily, effectively stopping Draco from apparating. "Don't apparate!"
"What?"
"I'm not in the mansion!" She added. "And please, Dray, let's not hail a carriage for us, you own one. Its not like your parents would use your carriage rather than theirs..."
Petulant, Draco raised an inquisitive eyebrow, the eyebrow itself silently questioning her request. "How can you be so sure about that?"
"Just a hunch..."
Draco's lips lifted into a sardonic grin.
"Come on, they wouldn't use that, Uncle Lucius wants to announce his presence tonight. Why use :your: carriage when his is more extravagant? Just... Let's use yours... Please?" Pansy pleaded.
He stood defiantly, staring at his childhood friend. 'When did Pansy suddenly become demanding...?' He wondered, still suspicious, but later on he realized the validity of her reasoning."... Fine." Draco conceded, a little while later. "Where are you?"
"I'm over at a friend's place. You see I'm trying to help-"
"Millicent? In Bulstrode Estate, then." He slipped on his cloak and began to walk towards the door.
"NO!" Pansy shrieked.
Draco flinched slightly at the sound of her voice. "Damn it, woman! Stop screaming like a banshee!"
"But you wouldn't let me finish!" Pansy protested. "If you'd just listen, I wouldn't be screaming like hell!" She scowled, but it immediately disappeared when she saw Draco cross his arms in front of him. "Good boy. Now"
"I'm not a dog!"
"Oh! Yeah, right, you're a ferret. Anyways"
"Pansy-"
"Okay, okay!" She smiled sheepishly. "I'm at a friend's house. Number 14 Niveus Estage. I'm sure you know the place quite :very: well."
Draco's expression of boredom suddenly became grim. "Pansy. You know that I am cutting off all ties with her."
"Merlin's ghost, Draco! You're just going to fetch me! Not fetch :us!" Pansy countered. "And besides, isn't it about bloody time that you treat this relationship, uh, affair, erm, situation, or whatever you want to call it, like an adult?"
Draco averted his eyes from Pansy's startling green, courtesy of the flames. Did she think it was that easy when all he wanted to do was
"For me, Draco? Please?"
After a long, suffering breath, Draco brought his gaze back to the hearth. "For you, Pans. For you."
Pansy's smile could have looked much better if not for the green-ness of her face. "Fabulous! Thanks, I love you Draco!" She said, before popping out of the floo network.
"Yeah whatever."
"I'm so, very :very: sorry, Hermione. My Father wanted me to meet one of our business partners beforehand. Methinks it can wait 'til the Ball, but he insists. I'm really sorry." Blaise's green face frowned so deep that Hermione wanted to reach out and tickle it. Honestly, it doesn't bode well with his features.
"All right already, Blaise!" She retorted while fumbling with the clasp of her brooch.
"You're not angry?"
"Of course not, silly. It's not your fault, and it's important business." Hermione smiled.
"You're not?" Blaise brightened up considerably. "Don't worry, I'll send for my coachman to fetch you at around... 7:30, and I'll just wait for you near the main door of the Ministry, okay?" Suddenly, his expression became sad and he shook his head solemnly. "Shame I couldn't stroll in with a smashing girl in my arms..."
"Really now, Blaise. Stop joking around. I'm anything but that. I'm just... Me." Hermione offered rather feebly.
Blaise tutted. "Tsk, nonsense, Hermione! You shouldn't underestimate your features!" He shook his head ruefully. "You silly, beautiful girl... I'll see you in the Ball, okay? Be careful!"
"Will do..." Hermione replied faintly just before Blaise disappeared from the floo. She heard those words before...
... You silly, beautiful girl...
When the carriage slowed, Draco felt, for the first time in his life, apprehension fill his heart. Sure, all those years of having the Malfoy Code drilled into his mind made him as confident and as determined as possible, but never had his emotions been in such a state of distraught. His thoughts and feelings were starting to run in circles.
He knew that eventually he would have to face her, since his Father suddenly wanted him to start working for the Ministry in his behalf instead of in the business towers next week, but he never expected that to happen so soon. And to think that Hermione would be all dressed up tonight...
After swearing vengeance for Pansy on Salazar Slytherin's grave, he pushed the carriage door open and stepped down in front of the low brass gate, pulled himself together and walked towards the door. Draco exhaled briefly, the air in front of him turning into mist, and lifted his gloved hand to use the knocker and knocked on the door.
Hermione sprung up from her comfortable recline on the divan, reading her latest book that Harry and Ron bought her, when the knocker announced the presence of another person at her doorstep.
"Just a minute, please!" She shouted as she paused slightly at the hallway and looked at herself in the mirror, fixed her surprisingly docile hair and readjusted her dress. She smiled at her reflection before taking cautious steps in her sexy albeit very high and slim stilettos to prevent herself from tripping and headed towards the door.
She placed a gloved hand to rest on the door as she moved her face to peek through the eyehole, and when she saw Draco Malfoy up in her doorstep, she almost fainted. Where is Blaise's carriage? And why is he here?
When Hermione calmed down and the wheels in her brain slowed, she mustered enough courage to open the door. Why should she be guilty? There really is nothing to it, because after all has been said and done, they both didn't make any effort or whatsoever to patch up their drift or even to talk about what happened between them. That could only mean that they are reverting to what the two of them used to be... Mere acquaintances. Before opening it fully, she plastered what she hoped was a cheerful and pleasant smile, resolute and assuring herself that she was not going to admire his features, that she was not going to say anything about the previous incidents, that she would only open the door, usher him in if needed, then talk as if nothing made a huge crack in their relationship... That is, if there :is: such a relationship...
All her rationalizing and control flew out of the proverbial window when Hermione saw Draco staring at her from under his long lashes, digging his heels surreptitiously in the thin sheet of snow that formed at the top level of her doorstep, and raising an inquisitive eyebrow at her. She couldn't look away; she :wouldn't: look away. How could she when he was looking so, so...
"Come on, mate. I'm sure Hermione would be surprised to see us." Ron straightened his grey robes for the third time, seeing nothing else to do as he waited for his best friend to emerge from Percy's room.
"Ronald, stop running your hands through your robes, it's unnerving!" Came Molly Weasley's voice from the living room.
"I stopped already!"
"Oh no you didn't!"
"I did, Mum!"
"Now, now. Before you two commence into another battle of who's wrong and who's right, let's go ahead." Arthur Weasley beckoned his wife to where he stood near the door. "Let's not spoil the two's surprise for Hermione, Molly." He kissed his wife on the forehead when she reached his side.
Molly scowled. "I was just telling your youngest son to stop straightening his robes, or"
"All right, all right." He draped his arms around her and kissed her on the lips. "The carriage is waiting."
Ron's face contorted into something like disgust. "Yeah, the carriage is waiting, Mum. Bye Dad, bye Mum!"
The sound of the rushed closing of the door and the neigh of the horse told Ron that his parents were gone. So, the redhead sat on the kitchen stool again, careful to ruin his new robes, and shouted to his companion. "Merlin's ghost, Harry. You take just as long as Ginny to dress up! How do you suppose we get Hermione a present if you're taking this long?"
Footsteps descended the stairs and down came Harry Potter, navy blue trench coat billowing behind him as he ran down the stairs to meet his friend. "Ron, we don't need to go anywhere to get Hermione a present. We'll make her a present. We've neglected her for far too long now. I reckon it's about time we give her something that came from us." He smiled, glasses falling off his nose bridge as he lifted his hand to show Ron the beginnings of his work.
Ron smiled at Harry and brought out his wand. "Harry, that's... Wicked."
He couldn't look away. He :wouldn't: look away. How could he when she looked so endearing, so beautiful as she stood there before him, the light pouring out from the hallway and outlining her like she was an apparition?
Draco took in every single detail of Hermione the way her hair was fixed on a twist on her head, how the small tendrils intentionally left from the coif curled and framed her face, how her hazel eyes glowed as bright as the 9.2 silver in her black diamond earrings and necklace, the snug fit of the long, black tube dress that revealed and complimented her body curves... There were just too many things about her that he found mesmerizing.
If he had been watching this scene playing in front of him, he would have 'Crucio'ed himself for acting like a hapless, crazed, deranged sap in love with a girl...
Wasn't he like that now?
Finally finding it in himself to smack himself mentally, Draco tore his eyes away from her astounding beauty and fixed his gaze on the potted plant in her doorway. "Granger."
"M-Malfoy." It came out much like a gasp, but she decided to ignore she ever thought of it as such.
"Where's Pansy?"
Hermione cocked an eyebrow at his query. "Wha... Pansy? What Pansy?"
"Stop playing games, Hermione." Draco opened the door much wider and invited himself in. "Pansy!" He called out.
Hermione felt a nerve throbbing in her temple. "Draco, Pansy's not here!" She closed the door behind her as she followed Draco. "What are you doing?" She questioned irritably, unconsciously rubbing her black-clad hand on her forehead in annoyance. When she received no answer, she huffed. "Oh come on, don't you know that inviting oneself into another's house is rude? Oh, what was I thinking, you were always rude!" She shouted, drowning out Draco's voice calling on Pansy.
He turned to her and scowled. "Where's Pansy?"
"What do I look like, the keeper of lost people?" She snapped.
"I posed a question, Granger. Answer me." He gritted as he grabbed her upper arm.
Hermione tugged her arm away, but he wouldn't release her. "I don't know, all right! Why would she be here anyway?"
Draco narrowed his eyes at her, gray eyes flashing a dangerous hint of silver, before he pulled her into the living room, searching for Pansy. When she wasn't there (because frankly, no one else is there), he went the other direction to look for his missing friend, ignoring the hooting of a white owl that he recognized as Potter's, and the icy glare he received from the kneazle-look-a-like pet of Hermione. It wasn't like he'd be intimidated by such trivial pets.
She tried to shake him off, but his grip was too strong, so she was helplessly dragged by him as he searched fruitlessly. It was difficult being dragged around, but it was worse because the high stilettos she wore wasn't something she was used to walking around with. "Stop pulling me..." She cried out, but he just ignored her. "Draco, you're hurting meOw!"
Draco turned her to him rather roughly when he heard her flinch. Hurting her wasn't really his intentions, and he really didn't mean it... "Wha"
Hermione flew forward as she tripped on her shoes, because honestly, a pair of stilettos isn't the ideal type of shoe that one needs when one is to be dragged around mercilessly. She lost her balance and landed not so gracefully on Draco, who hit his head and his back on the wall.
"Damn it, woman!" He complained as he rubbed his hand behind his head, soothing the shooting pain.
"Why you" Hermione sat up almost instantly and on her arms and knees, half-crawled half-ran away from Draco. A thin piece of wood digging slightly in her arm reminded her that she was an Auror, and that she could do something, so Hermione immediately pulled her wand out from her elbow-length gloves and aimed it at him, thinking about a hex that would make him pay... "Densauge"
"Expelliarmus! Accio wand!"
Hermione's wand was midway to the floor when it flew towards his free hand. "Malfoy!" She spat out.
Draco smiled smugly at her from the wall, twirling her wand and staring at her slightly disarrayed clothes and hair. "Tough luck, Granger. Where were your Auror skills when you needed them?" He stood up and dusted himself off. "Bollocks, my robes...!"
"Serves you right..." Hermione muttered darkly as she retrieved her stiletto, which coincidentally also flew from her foot. She slipped it on and strapped it securely, mumbling something around the sounds of vain, pompous, arsehole, trespassing and lawsuit.
A proffered hand became visible in her line of vision, and she glared at it before glaring at the owner. "I don't need your help, you deranged bastard!"
"Yes you do." Draco retorted.
"No I don't!" She shouted as she began to kneel to obtain balance, her hands on the floor serving as leverage.
He watched her as she scrambled on all fours, and couldn't help but look down her dress, sneak a peek, and managed a lopsided grin. Hermione Jane Granger, sexy little vixen... Who would've thought...? "Unless you want to ruin the stunning clothes, yes you don't need my help. But no, you can't, because you're going to a Ball." Draco grabbed her shoulders and she jerked away, but not fast enough because Draco's hands shot out to hold her again and he pulled her up to stand directly in front of him, and dusted her off. Of course, without forgetting to feel her up in the right places...
"Get your stinking hands off me, you slimy git!" She flailed her arms, screeching, pushing his hands from her body. "You've been harassing me and you just committed trespassing! I'm going to get the Aurors"
"And ruin the Yearend Ball? Really now, Granger. Where is your pure, noble, altruistic, Gryffindor morality? They're having an absolutely wonderful time there, dancing, chatting, drinking, or doing whatever those motherfucking people do in a bloody Ball and you'll inform them that a deranged, slimy, fucking pillock and soon-to-be-Auror barged in at your house?" Draco interjected testily as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front of him and gazing at her, his right hand holding both their wands. "And here I thought :you: of all people prioritized other people's happiness."
Hermione leered at the carpet, angry at what was transpiring. Why the hell is he searching her house for Pansy? Where was Blaise's coachman? What was he ranting on about pillocks and soon-to-be-Aurors? And most importantly, why did she feel like flinging herself to him?
She heard Draco curse softly in front of her, and she brought her gaze up to see that Draco was eyeing her forearms. She saw him extend his wand and perform spells to heal her bruises, after which he placed his hands on her shoulders. "I... I apologize for hurting you."
"You think that's enough?" She cried, wriggling out of his grasp and backing away awkwardly. "Give me my wand! And Pansy's not here! And where's Blaise's carriage!" She continued, her voice rising with each sentence.
Draco cocked an eyebrow at her. "Your wand? I think not. I still detect violence in your voice, my dear mudblo-er-muggleborn. I seem to remember you being less hostile towards me several days prior."
She scoffed and looked at him darkly, the shimmer on her eyelids and the corners of her eyes emphasizing the glare, before the anger-smoldering-in-the-eyes look was ruined when she took a step back and swayed slightly, courtesy of the eight-inch high stilettos she was struggling in.
Draco found this very amusing, and he chuckled. "Why, if it weren't for-"
"Sod off, Malfoy."
"But I was just-"
"I said sod off, ferret!" Hermione whined. "What is your business here anyway, git?"
Draco's face became stoic all of a sudden, and his eyes went steely, his gaze looked sharp and his voice ran cold. "I am supposed to fetch Pansy here."
"Well," Hermione walked wobbly in the direction of her coat hanger while speaking. "Seeing as Pansy is not here, I believe you're mistaken, Mr. Malfoy. Now if you'd excuse me," she continued as she threw on her fur coat. "Blaise's carriage would be by shortly, and I suggest you head out of my flat now. Unless you want to be detained in the Ministry for breaking in, that is." She picked up her small purse on the table near the door and waited for him to head out.
Draco scowled at how he knew he looked like an idiot, and he swore that Pansy's revenge would be twice as difficult to bear and ultimately twice as sweet. He walked out, impervious and regal, his black robes rushing behind him.
Hermione turned to lock her door. "I'll be seeing you around, Malfoy." She pulled her coat together and climbed down the front steps, Draco hot on her trails as he moved from the house to his parked carriage.
"Okay, we're here." Blaise's hand crept towards the handle of the door of his carriage as the carriage came to a stop. The bright lights poured out of the Ministry doors and lively music streamed from the establishment, and to Blaise, who was more than ecstatic, it was a very good time and place to make a scene. "Let's go already!"
"Just a sec..."
"Come on, you're absolutely smashing! No need for muggle beauty products."
"Why are you pulling the same stunt on me as you did to Hermione? And here I thought it was I alone..."
"Oh come on..."
"That's a joke, dear. Just wait a second, my lips are chapped..."
"Ooookay... If you're still so busy, I'd just be waiting outside."
"No, no. Let's go, I'm ready." She smacked her lips together and clamped down her lips gently on a tissue paper before she crushed it and motioned for Blaise to open the door. "We can't have you wait for me now, can we? If we are to make a scene, we go together."
"Impeccably Slytherin, love." Blaise smirked as he stopped, turned and reached out to brush his hand above her chest.
A pale eyebrow shot up. "Don't go lecherous on me now, Blaise."
He merely shook his head as his hands crept down to fasten the clasp of her robes properly, and then the door went open as the waiting attendant opened it. "Shall we go, Milady?" He stepped out of the vehicle and into the night and held out his hand for her to hold on to, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.
She rolled her eyes at him, but nonetheless followed him and slipped her arm onto his.
Blaise patted her hand on his arm. "Stop thinking about something else, we've got a Ball to attend and a certain elder Parkinson to make apoplectic."
She smacked him lightly on the arm, but laughed at Blaise's words. "Just make sure we do that, darling."
Cameras began to flash wildly around them, taking pictures of them. The pair smiled and walked in the direction of the doors, stopping occasionally to greet people or to answer questions from the Wizarding press, questions that were mainly about their peculiar presence (and date), or about business and whatnot, and about another person's whereabouts to which Blaise curtly answered 'Oh you know, some place where he has to be. I'm sure he'll announce his presence in a real head turning manner,' accompanied by an enigmatic smile that was truly Slytherin in nature, before whisking the blonde girl in his arms and sauntering to the doors, leaving the press to whisper and speculate.
Seven thirty came by, but still no sign of Blaise's carriage. Hermione pulled her coat closer and sighed, her breath forming thick clouds in front of her. Maybe she should have told Blaise that she'd apparate instead, and maybe she shouldn't have followed Pansy's advice on dresses, because her fur coat wasn't really helping at all. And stupid Malfoy had to go ruin her mood...
She still couldn't understand why Draco-er-Malfoy went to her flat looking for Pansy, and why he was ranting about soon-to-be Aurors, but now that she thought of it, maybe he was to be an Auror. He was, after all, a member of the Order (despite protests from other members), and essentially one of the reasons of Voldemort's downfall as a spy alongside Severus Snape. He of all people is a most effective Auror. But not everyone noticed the logic behind it for she, Harry and Ron were expected and anticipated to be Aurors, not Draco Malfoy, who belonged to a family that were long rumored to be inclined in performing Dark Arts. But then, if he was to be an Auror, what about his job? Oh yeah, Lucius Malfoy just fired him, but would the senior Malfoy really do that? Fire his son? And would Draco take up to the idea of protecting those people who once loathed him just because of his surname?
It was all too confusing for one sensible Hermione Granger, and she realized that whatever he wanted to do with his life or whatever became of him wasn't really her problem.
But still...
Seven forty-three.
Hermione waited patiently for the carriage to arrive, and truth be told, she felt really cold. Well, who wouldn't when you're sitting in the street on a cold, winter night? The warming charm on the bench isn't really that effective since it was out exposed in the chill air, but she went through that because she knew that the carriage would arrive soon. She thought it was modest to wait for the coachman instead of apparating a while ago, because she didn't want to have the coachman be reprimanded by Blaise. But now she was starting to regret that decision.
Seven forty-five.
Hermione turned slightly and began to search for any sign of a carriage, but still there was none. Where was Blaise's coach? Niveus Estage wasn't that difficult to find, and honestly, the name was practically connected with her, just like Harry and Grimmauld Place, Weasleys and the Burrow, Zabinis and The Mansion, and Malfoys and The Manor...
Seven fifty.
Hermione wondered why Pansy told Draco to fetch her in her house. The Slytherin never mentioned, even in a joke, that she'd drop by her flat after she finished glamouring up for the Yearend Ball... Maybe she was planning... To surprise her? But what for?
Her thoughts were cut off as she heard the faint footfalls of a horse and the wheels of a rushing carriage turning and hitting the pavement, and she stood up and fixed herself. The carriage stopped in front of her and as she looked on excitedly, she found out that it wasn't what she was waiting for.
In fact, it was what she dreaded for.
The all-too-familiar blonde head poked out of the window. "Hop in, Granger."
"Now why would I?" She spat out defiantly. After hurting her, harassing her and trespassing in her house, the git was going to resort to kidnapping?
"Just hop in, Granger." His tone was insistent.
"No!"
"You've got no choice, Gryffindor."
"Of course I have! Blaise's carriage"
"Wouldn't arrive. So better climb in." Draco finished for her. "Merlin's bathrobe, you're freezing cold, your eyes are turning white from waiting, and you even forgot to retrieve your precious wand from me! What is the world coming to?"
Hermione opened her mouth to retort and tell him how wrong he was that he had her wand, that she had it tucked securely in her lengthy gloves and could proudly hex him with it at the moment, but she felt that it was no use reaching for her wand because she saw it being twirled between his fingers and being waved at her as if to taunt her. "Give me my wand back."
"Get in and then I'll give you your wand."
"Hell no! I am not going to ride your, your, disgusting carriage! And I'm perfectly fine!"
"Perfectly fine. Yes, tell that to the house elves." He scoffed. "I was thinking you'd finally gain some semblance of reason and swallow your humungous Gryffindor honor and get your cute little arse in here and plan devious revenge with me because some prats see us as completely daft. And might I add, if you're aiming for the blue fairy look, then let me commend you because you have successfully turned your dainty muggle toenails into a lovely shade of blue. I think you have the climate to thank for that."
Daft? Revenge? "I have no idea as to what you're prattling about, Malfoy, and if I had known better:you: are the prat that think me as daft." Hermione crossed her arms in defiance.
"Granger," Draco almost whined. It irked him, truthfully, that the know-it-all Gryffindor couldn't, for the love of Merlin, figure out the scheme. Was her sensible mind muddled by some foreign body? "Haven't you figured it out?"
"What's there to figure out? That you are a complete wanker? That you practically committed three crimes in less than an hour? Or that you're here to kidnap me and offer me as a virgin sacrifice to the next Dark Lord for the conception of his underlings and the culmination of his carefully planned-out rise to evil-dom?" She spat out angrily.
"No, Hermione." He protested, though he could very well envision himself as the rising (but hopefully not) Dark Lord if that was what she wanted... He shook his head, trying to clear the mental image. "Blaise told you he'd send his coach to fetch you."
"And so? What is it to you?" She tapped her foot in front of her impatiently.
"Pansy requested that I fetch her in your flat. :Your: flat, but she is not here."
She nodded her head stiffly, though she still didn't see the logic behind it. What was he expecting, that she would willingly and easily understand him? That his fabrication would fix everything? As if it seems everyone would want to believe him anyways...
Draco stared at her eagerly, but her body language told him clearly that she wasn't in the least bit inclined to believing him.
"Do you expect me to believe you?" She turned her eyes to look at him, flashing and furious.
He shook his head. "You've no choice but to do so."
It irritated her that with her unyielding stance, he wasn't deterred in his lie even in the slightest. The dolt was all smiles! "You're impossible." Hermione huffed.
He looked at her, contemplating whether to be angry or not at her words, before retorting. "Suit yourself, then. No wand, no ride, no Blaise." Draco smiled smugly and moved away from the window as the carriage began to move. She was being difficult, and he wanted more than to spill the beans and let her know about it, and, if allowed, grab the opportunity.
But if she acted that way, then that would mean there is nothing left to fix, and nowhere left to pick up on. 'If that is what she wants, then so be it...' She'd have to figure this whole situation on her own, then.
She glared at the snow-covered pavement and sat down ungracefully on the bench again. 'Of all the nerve...!' The sound of the horses scurrying away from her told her that Malfoy would no longer bother her, that she wouldn't have her conflicting feelings confuse her again, that she wouldn't have to tolerate his presence anymore...
But there'd be no one to blame her forbidden thoughts on, no one to curse when in a fork on the road, no one to have an intelligent enough conversation with, no one to think of when left alone with her thoughts, no other person to look for in the crowd, no other man to make her feel beautiful, no one else to make her feel loved...
... And she wouldn't get her precious wand back.
Hermione sprung from her seat and gazed at the carriage that seemed to drift farther and farther at a fast rate. "Malfoy! Malfoy! Malfoy, wait!" She shouted; her voice edged with urgency. She ran after the coach helplessly. "Malfoy! Wait a bloody minute, Malouch!"
The carriage stopped and its occupant stepped out, and Hermione teetered towards Draco with a painful ankle. "Bloody hell, I told you to stop!"
Draco watched Hermione with a satisfied smirk as she hobbled towards him. "Well? I did." His lips quirked uncontrollably. "Why Granger," he drawled out when he saw her grasping her wrist tighter. "I didn't know you were a masochist of decadence."
"You think it's amusing, don't you?" Hermione gritted out as she came near him.
He shrugged nonchalantly, wiggled his eyebrows knowingly and turned back to his carriage, not even bothering to look if she was following him.
A stray white object fell softly against Draco's immaculate black robes, stopping him from stepping in the Brougham. He eyed it skeptically. "It's snowing."
"Malfoy! Come over here, you prat, and be a gentleman for once!" Hermione imposed, or tried to impose in her less-than-capable-to-walk state.
When Draco turned around again her breath hitched. The few snowflakes that fell around him made him look all the more endearing, and his blue-rimmed silver-grey eyes seemed to have shed off its barrier. Hermione had never seen him look at her that way; it made her feel queasy. But she did have an inkling as to what it was. It was akin to something she saw that flickered in his eyes while they... Shagged... As if he poured out all of his emotions with that act of coupling; as if he loved her... As if what they were doing at that time was something that conveyed more than just hormones and pent-up desires and pleasure... Like they weren't just rabbits in heat and seeking release but two people who shared the same concern for each other's welfare and making love...
And for the second time in a month she felt once more how it was like to be the latest, most-sought for and best broomstick on display at QQS.
He walked towards her and gazed at her intently, and then his hands reached out to brush a stray snow that landed on the tip of her nose. "Hermione, your eyes have the most peculiar shade of brown."
Whether that was meant to be taken as an insult or a compliment Hermione didn't know; she didn't want to know. But his stare was starting to make her uneasy. "That has nothing to do with helping me out."
"Hmm... True." Draco retorted, his hand now under his chin, the other supporting the arm that was connected to the other hand. "But that doesn't mean it is not worth mentioning, now does it?"
She couldn't help but avert her gaze from his. "Well if you're going to help, then do so." Hermione mumbled faintly while finding interest at the little white puffs her breath produced.
He felt a surge of happiness overcome his senses. Maybe this Gryffindor-like plan that his childhood friends laid out wasn't so bad after all. "But do enlighten me, miss. Did my sensible Gryffindor come back?"
She couldn't help but go red at his words. Proprietary at once, not even sure of it...! "I... I never went away... I was alwaysStop talking in circles, Draco! My ankle is hurting!"
He couldn't resist just pushing her buttons. "You're still beautiful when you're angry and aggravated, did you know?"
Her blush only deepened. "Malfoy..."
"... And when you blush too. I still couldn't understand why Potty and Weasel never saw that in you. Especially Weasel, since he preferred your regular succession of rows than giving compliments. Maybe they were too busy looking out for themselves... Or maybe Potter might need another set of spectacles... And Weasley should ask for Potter's old glasses, too. What with his pocket always empty."
"It's not like that..." She couldn't help but get irked. His words may be true to some extent, but Ron and Harry were still her friends, and he has no right to make fun of them... Hermione risked a look at his face and she stared. In place of the childish, pointy-faced, sneering eleven-year-old boy she knew, in front of her was a mature, elegant and drop-dead gorgeous eighteen-year-old young man. His face was every bit honest and sincere, and his eyes softened considerably, turning into an interesting swirl of silver and blue. Draco Malfoy looked so open, so vulnerable... But it immediately changed into a smirk.
"So, did the brain of our clever former Head Girl finally get to comprehend the intelligent former Head Boy's deduction?"
Hermione's perfectly curved eyebrow shot up. "Understand what?"
"Ah," Draco reached out his hand to hold her elbow lightly. "There are numerous things to consider regarding that question, Miss Granger. One," he held up his right index finger, "if she finally realized how everything tonight was just a very un-Slytherin plan of two supposed-to-be-devious ex-Slytherins that the handsome former Head Boy had not a hand in doing so." His middle finger followed his index's lead. "Two, if she came into terms with her feelings regarding everything and everyone around her," his ring finger, "three, if she would willingly admit that the blonde, dashing, extremely good-looking young man before her rocks her socks..."
"All right, all right, I get it!" She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Blaise and Pansy are going to get it, I swear it upon, upon..."
"Upon the grave of Salazar Slytherin?" He offered.
Her eyes met his laughing ones. "Well, that, and Godric Gryffindor's and Rowena Ravenclaw's and Helga Hufflepuff's!"
"I thought so too." Draco nodded comprehendingly, convinced that it wouldn't bode well if it was only Slytherin that the two of them would have rolling in their graves. Fair treatment should be given to the Founders. Equality was one of the most precious lessons that the institution taught them. "But as to the second and third assumption?"
Hermione's right eyebrow rose as she smiled. "You are so... So full of yourself, did you know that?"
"Why yes. My Mother and Father made it a point to drill it in my brain every meal. Brilliant observation, Miss Granger."
"Thought so."
"Yes, brilliant indeed, but admit it, Hermione. You find me attractive. More than that load of a Quidditch bloke who always mispronounces your name, or the two arseholes," at Hermione's look of disdain, he paraphrased. "Or your two knights in shining armor that rode away to some Wizarding Hell and left you alone to fend for yourself." He finished, looking down at her through his aristocratic nose a power tactic.
She huffed, her breath turning into mist in front of her and clouding her vision. What was the use denying? Admitting that he was good-looking wasn't synonymous to saying she wanted him. It wasn't even an indication of defeat; in fact it would just be like stating facts. There really is nothing wrong with that... Well, except boosting and stoking his already huge male ego.
"Well?" She saw, rather than heard, Draco make out the words as he gazed at her eagerly.
"Fine! You're good-looking! And yes, I think I have it figured out now! There, happy?" She stared at him pointedly, observing his expression as it changed from a self-satisfied smirk into an I-told-you-so look. "And don't you dare tell me 'I told you so!'"
He gazed at her for a long moment, seeing her glowing face just about to explode, before shrugging and turning his lips into a knowing, lopsided grin. "I told you so."
If Hermione was red from pain or embarrassment a while ago, it was transformed immediately into anger. "Argh! You... You...!" She balled her fists in indignation. "You arrogant, bigoted, conceited, deranged, enigmatic, foul, grouchy, hedonistic, insufferable"
"Shut up, Granger." Draco grabbed her violently, crushed her body against his and closed the distance between them, smothering her words with his lips on hers.
The snowflakes kept on drifting softly around them.
»Some Additional Notes«
"Nothing." 'Nothing you won't be able to figure out yourself.' - Kaho Mizuki, Card Captor Sakura, Sakura and the Tree of Memories. Very enigmatic character, if I may say.
"Forget that girl and get a life." - Bartok, from Anastasia. I simply find these Disney movies fascinating, and the fallen Romanovs really interest me, but that's irrelevant.
Okay, so that wasn't such a nice place to cut the first part, but anyways…
swtdohtee – Pinay? Yeah, nabaanggit mo… in your bio… Nyahaha. I kind of lurk around, you know, and check out everyone's bio… Hehehe. No really, you think it's nice? I mean, my fic? Because I find it hard to believe when after almost a month it seems like no one really appreciates what I write… :sighs: Haaay, ganyan talaga ang buhay… Ces't la vie… Thank you for :always: being supportive. Really.
DracoDraconis – haha, I know it might sound too overconfident (notice the intended redundancy there) of me, but…. :wails: I think I really :am: unloved! But it really is nice to know that there are those few who find my story still nice… And it really is touching to know that… Gives purpose and inspiration, that they do… And you reviewed TWICE! Thank you! I feel soooo loved because of you! 'Said great too much…' Nah, that's okay, I do that all the time. Lol
Venus725 – Of course I'll continue it! I can't just leave it there now, can I? This is my only achievement ever… Having at least decent skills in writing… So I couldn't very well stop doing it… Ha-ha. I was getting carried away again. Yeah, the Erised thing was very hard to incorporate, really, and I could say the same with Dumbledore… In fact it was just before I posted the chapter in the net that I thought of that… Thanks for the review, btw.
Kace08 – let me guess… You won't be biting my head off anymore because of this chapter, right? RIGHT:brings out wand: Imperio! You won't bite my head off… Hahaha that was lame of me… The snow globe? Hmmm… Maybe, maybe not… I don't actually know…
RahNee – I really did a good job on that smut? Wow that's a monumental achievement! See that smile? Reading it made my smile that huge… And yes, it was both their first times! It's just that it's kind of abused rhetoric when Draco is this 'sex god' of Slytherin and of Hogwarts. Well, I won't deny the fact that I practically drool when I read some fics with him as such (I mean, who wouldn't?), but I wanted something that would not be so, well, how do I say this… Uhm, unrealistic? I'm really under the impression that teenagers have not enough carnal knowledge to perform sex that well; I think they're just in for the "sex" thing, not the "pleasure" or quality of the activity itself… Uhm, gah, I just babbled. Sorry about that. And yes, Harry and Ron definitely saw the light…
Carly – thank you!
DarkSeductress – enthralling? Wow. I just hope I did meet with your expectations with this post… Thanks for the review!
DizzyDawn007 – well here's the update! Uhm, do you think they're together now:winks:
Kalystia – why thank you:hugs: And it's nice to read your review too! It sounded so sincere, really! Short but sincere!
Tonimarie – here's the update! Wait, wait… Your name's just like my friends… Is it rude if I asked you where you're from? thanks again!
Breanna Senese – 'I loved how you changed Draco, but made him exactly the same as he always was!' Whoa. I'm a bit overwhelmed by that remark… Was my Drakie-poo OOC? (Well, my characters :always: are, but still…) Is that a good thing?
Another thing, I'm currently trying to finish a one-shot that I will be including in a four-part series called Les Saisons Eternelles or The Undying Seasons (I'm not adept in French, but I think that's right). I'm hoping to have it out before my birthday this April, since I consider it as a birthday present for myself. And here's a snippet, so please tell me if I should continue…
Draco Malfoy never liked the rain.
In fact, as much as possible, he avoided any contact with those bloody water droplets from the sky. Not only did it ruin his impeccable robes, or made his extremely sexy platinum blond hair stick out in different directions (as he wasn't keen to becoming a blond Harry Potter), or make his shiny black boots muddied, he hated it simply because it was rain. Of course, rain always meant that he could not very well go out of the Hogwarts castle, or practice flying at the Quidditch Field, or play pranks at the ickle first years that would be brazened enough to even look him in the eye, or go to Hogsmeade on a rainy Hogsmeade weekend. The list could go on forever; how he hated rain, that is.
But what he particularly did not like with the rain was the fact that it made him feel nostalgic and melancholic, something he, as a Malfoy, should never feel. But every time he would hear the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof, or its light drizzle knocking on the glass of the huge windows, or it streaming at a steady rate and hitting the earth, it made him sink in depression.
What he couldn't bring himself to admit was that he associated the rain with despair, like the heavens were crying. And it always reminded him of how lonely he was. Sure, he would be smirking and going around painting Hogwarts red, wreaking havoc, and practically wearing a don't-mess-with-me-or-I'll-fuck-your-life-up signboard complete with neon green letters and spotlights, but underneath that facade there would still be the anxieties, insecurities and problems of a normal, angst-ridden teenage boy; even if he was :the: Draco Malfoy.
Hermione stared at the pouring rain resignedly.
She really wasn't expecting the rain. Not that she hated it or anything; in fact, she loved the rain. The moistened, glistening view it always gave her, the sound of it hitting the pavement, the grounds, the roof and the windows, the damp smell of the plants and flowers lingering after the shower, and of course, the beautiful arc-en-ciel it left on its wake. It looked like the heavens were bathing the earth clean. When she was small she would always go out and savor the water drops as they hit her skin, and she would sometimes bathe in it; sometimes she even imagined the raindrops as different kinds of sweets that she would open her mouth and swallow them. The list could go on forever; how she loved the rain, that is.
Tell me what you think, and please review! The next chapter would be the very, very last one. Promise. Oh and let me apologize if a lot of punctuation marks screwed up big time. It's not my fault, I did my best to edit everything. Gah.
Comme Toujours!
Melissa Spitfire
Tell me what you think, and please review! The next chapter would be the very, very last one. Promise. Oh and let me apologize if a lot of punctuation marks screwed up big time. It's not my fault, I did my best to edit everything. Gah.