Disclaimer: If only i owned these characters. That is ONE BIG FAT "if only" because i don't. Isn't that obvious?


Perfect Mistake

Five

Meant To Be


Hermione whimpered and writhed underneath him with a kind of raw, animalistic passion, the fire inside her going into her head and wiping out everything inside besides thoughts of the gorgeous man above her.

His name was a chant on her lips, the word becoming a habit as he moved within her, his grey eyes locked with hers.

"Draco, faster," she pleaded, clutching him closer.

He complied and grunted out her name as he emptied himself inside her, listening to her crying out his name as he felt her go into spasm around him, bucking up to cling onto him desperately.

"Hermione," he whispered, holding her in his arms, rolling over so she was atop him, lying on his chest, a shaking mess.

"I don't know what this is," she admitted.

"What is?" he asked.

"The way you make me feel," she said simply.

He was quiet.

"Draco," she said hesitantly. "Do you think somehow, its right for us to feel this way?"

"It's the only way I can imagine feeling for you," he answered, smiling and she realized that once those words were out of his mouth, they were the ones she needed to hear the most.

"Draco," she said slowly, trying to find the words to tell him how she really felt.

"I know," he said after a moment.

She paused, staring at him quizzically.

"I love you too," he said in a low voice.

She started, slightly shocked, but settled into his embrace when it occurred to her that those were the words that she had been looking for all these while.

--

Draco grabbed the Oriental vase and hurled it across the room, relishing in the sound of it shattering into pieces against the wall.

He was this close, this fucking close to be with her again and she had to go and get all stubborn with him, again.

What else did he have to do to make her believe that he still loved her, if possible even more than before? What else did she want?

Shaking with anger, he pummeled his fist into the mirror hanging on the wall, watching as his image broke apart.

Warm, sticky blood trickled down his arm and he stood there, trying to reign in his emotions.

When he felt that he was calm enough not to take apart his house, he found a spare piece of parchment, sat down and began to write.

--

Hermione gave Bee a small tired smile. "Dinner," she said quietly, sliding the plate across the table to the spot in front of Bee.

"Mommy," she called out.

Hermione turned around. "Yes?"

"Where are you going?" Bee asked.

"To bed," Hermione answered.

"But it's too early to sleep," Bee protested, her eyes flicking over to the clock hanging on the wall that spoke plainly that it was way too early. She hadn't even had dinner. "You haven't even eaten," Bee added. "Aren't you hungry?

"Mommy's tired and I'm not hungry," Hermione said, offering Bee a weak smile. "Good night."

Bee watched as her mother walked into her room, her silhouette bent and curved with a kind of sorrow Bee had always known, the kind of raw need she associated with her mother that she couldn't quite place or name but that kind of dark and overwhelming need rolled of her mother in waves.

She wondered how her mother became this way. Was she always like this?

She turned to her food and found that she was suddenly not hungry anymore. She slid off the chair carefully, and padded across the hallway to stand at her mother's door, twisting the knob quietly and pushed the door open, silent as could be.

Bee peered through the crack and made out the shape of her mother in the dark, sitting on the bed, not yet asleep.

"Mommy," she whispered then shut the door once more, certain that grief had its own smell- just like her mother's bittersweet and musky smell.

--

Bee grinned up at her teacher, waving goodbye.

"Bridgette?"

She stopped, nearly falling over. She looked up and squeaked in surprise. It was that blond man from the wand shop.

"Hi," he bent down, smiling at her. "I'm Draco."

"I'm Bee," she said slowly. "How do you know me?"

"I'm your mother's friend," he answered.

"Oh," Bee smiled. "You know my mommy?"

"Yes, of course," he nodded. "Now Bee, will you do me a big favour? It's very important to me and I need you to help me do it."

"What?" she asked.

"I need you to pass this envelope to your mother and tell her that I asked you pass it to her and that-" He broke off and looked away.

"And?" Bee prompted, her eyes narrowing in curiosity.

"And I'm sorry, and that I hope that she can forgive me," he finished.

"Will this make my mommy sad?" she asked warily.

"No," he assured her. "It's a present; it'll make your mommy really happy."

"Ok," she held out her hand and took the envelope.

"Thank you," he bent down and pressed a kiss on Bee's forehead. "Give your mommy this kiss for me," he whispered and Bee giggled.

He smiled back. "I'll see you again, Bee."

"Bye," she waved as he walked away.

Bee slipped the envelope into her bag and waited for her mother to pick her up.

"Bee!"

She stood up and ran over to her mother. "Mommy!"

"Hello, sweetie, how was school today?" Hermione took Bee's hands and apparated them back home.

"Good," Bee said, pulling envelope out of her bag eagerly. "I got a present for you!"

"What's that?" Her mother smiled.

"A Mr. Draco asked me to give this to you," Bee grinned.

Hermione blanched. "What did he say?" she said cautiously, taking the envelope.

"Well, he says that he's sorry and he hopes that you can forgive him," Bee said quickly. She stood on tiptoe and beckoned her mother down. "Bend down, Mommy."

Hermione crouched down. "Yes?"

Bee pressed a kiss to her mother's forehead. Hermione laughed.

"He asked me to give this kiss to you," Bee giggled.

Hermione covered her face with her hands, trying to stop the tears.

"Why are you crying, Mommy? He said it was supposed to make you happy," Bee said.

"I am," Hermione said. "I am happy."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Because," Hermione wiped her tears away and gave Bee a brilliant smile. "I'm so happy."

"Ok," Bee said.

"Hurry and go and take your bath now," Hermione mothered and watched her daughter take off into her room.

With trembling fingers, she tore the envelope open and unfolded the parchment inside, her heart warming at the sight of that familiar sloped handwriting.

Dear Hermione,

I'm sorry I said things that made you sad. I take them back and I hope you can forgive me. You didn't deserve all the things I said.

I loved you, Hermione, all these years when we were apart, and I still love you now. Please believe me. If you're not going to accept me this time, it's okay. I won't blame you. I only wish to give you my blessings and hope that you will be very happy.

Someone once told me if you love something very much, let it go and if it comes back to you, it's for keeps.

I'm letting you go, Hermione, because I love you.

It hurts, but I love you more than I love myself.

Draco.

Hermione tipped her head back, letting the letter fall from her fingers as she tried to get used to the thought that she wasn't his anymore.

If only the world could accept them. If only she was brave enough. If only they could stand up against the rest of the world.

But maybe they just weren't meant to be.

She brushed that thought away with a laugh- if they weren't meant to be, why was it that without him, she couldn't even think of herself as alive, that without him, she was empty, hollow and a ghost of herself. If they weren't meant to be, why was it she couldn't accept anyone else in her heart but him?

If they weren't meant to be like they were, why was it that she loved him so much even when she knew she shouldn't.

--

In the bathroom, Bee stood in the shower, wondering what kind of deep secrets her mother could be hiding.

She was five years old, but she, like her mother, was wise beyond her age. She could recognize the smell of grief, of well-kept secrets, of naked sorrow and of guilt, all of these smells she associated with her mother.

These smells, they don't go away- not even after you scrub at your skin, Bee mused. She rubbed soap all over her skin and wondered fleetingly what did she smell like?

She flicked the shower back on and yelped softly as the warm water poured over her. She giggled and blinked away the beads of water in her eyes.

Who was this blond man?

She squinted at the white tiles of the bathroom floor and tried to conjure up his face- he was clean shaven, and moved with the grace of a cat. He had hair so blond it was nearly silver, just like hers, piercing grey eyes and a knowing smile. He knew how to make her mother happy, something that Bee admired greatly.

She wanted to learn to make her mother smile and laugh like she did. She wanted to know what kind of special magic that blond man- Draco- had to make her mother smile.

How was it he was the only one who had that magic? Not even Daddy could do it, she thought.

Who was he? Bee thought again, puzzled, the questions stuck in her five year old brain and refused to go away.

Maybe she could ask him the next time he turned up, because she knew he would. Bee knew things like that sometimes, and she knew for sure he would turn up again.

She closed her eyes against the warm spray of water, brushing the locks of blond hair that plastered themselves onto her skin away.


A/N:

Once again, a big THANKYOU to those who reviewed (:

please review and let me kow how i can improve on this, as well as check out my other fics.

-lissie