Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or other references to the original work of J.K Rowling. I only own my own mistakes
Hope you'll enjoy this chapter!
Please review if you do, I live for your thoughts!
-o-o-o-
Five weeks later
It had been five weeks since Hermione and Draco had parted ways, and Hermione missed him when she scanned the quidditch section in the Prophet, when she caught sight of her copy of Hogwarts: A history in her bookshelf, and every time when she woke to an empty bed. She'd disciplined herself several times for losing herself in thoughts about his grey eyes and his lean fingers.
In these five weeks she had learned masturbation was no adequate substitution for the real thing. No matter how many times she imagined his voice, his cock, his hands, it never measured up and no orgasm was even half as intense. It almost made her cranky.
Each time someone mentioned the efforts made by D.M Unity she couldn't help but sharpen her ears. She'd overheard a few of her colleagues in the Department of Magical International Cooperation discussing his diplomatic work in France, and it sounded like he was really turning heads, making way for the Ministry to expand their cooperation with France.
Hermione was astonished when a fellow colleague, Theodore Nott, head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, knocked on her office door on a Wednesday afternoon. Hermione was busy with her martial reform, reading up on how the Secrecy Act was invoked in Norway when the brown haired, slender man asked her if she had any plans this weekend. She did, she had plans with Ginny. Theodore persisted and asked about her plans for the weekend after that, and Hermione found it a bit awkward when she told him she would have to let him know.
Her obsession with Draco really wasn't healthy, and she either needed to do something about it, or move on. Seeing as she had heard nothing from him in five weeks, moving on made sense. Theodore would not be her first choice for that. For obvious reasons, Theodore was a friend of Draco's, and she couldn't very well tell Theodore she'd fucked Draco countless of times and therefore a date with him, would be inappropriate.
No. It wasn't like she could tell Theodore that. She sighed and warmed her hands on the teacup in front of her.
An image of Ron seeped into her mind, and she discovered yet another reason for why it would be untimely to start dating now. Especially when she wasn't that interested in Theodore in that way.
-o-o-o-
Today was Saturday, and she was seated on a black leather sofa at 12 Grimmauld place, nursing a glass of exquisite red wine. Ginny Weasley, now Potter, was one of Hermione's closest friends. Ginny, along with everyone else of Hermione's closest circle had moved on from the war in a much healthier way than she had. Ginny had gotten married to Harry who she now lived with, she'd also begun a successful career as a quidditch player for the holyhead Harpies. Hermione could appreciate the success, but quidditch was no interest they shared. Ginny was a strong minded woman, not much unlike Hermione. With Ginny she could always count on things to not be sugar-coated. It was a reason for why she loved her so much; it was also the reason she had yet to tell her about that weekend with Draco in Hogsmeade.
Ginny had her head in the newest edition of Witches weekly, talking excitedly about a quiz.
"If you had to describe your love interest as a magical creature, what creature would he be," she read aloud, looking at Hermione for her to answer.
"These quizzes are ridiculous," she blamed and frowned. Cranky indeed.
"But if you had too?" Ginny persisted, sipping on her second glass of wine.
"Dragon," Hermione said, surprising herself by how quickly the answer came. It was fitting really, seeing as his name alone did mean dragon in Latin. The man radiated confidence and strength, and part of her knew he was possessive of what was his. Even though she, to her disappointment, had never had that directed at her.
Ginny frowned. "You would describe Ron as a dragon? To each their own I guess," she mumbled confused, leaning back on the plush chair, flipping to another page, abandoning the quiz because of Hermione's unsatisfying answer.
Hermione's cheeks flushed pink. "No, not Ron. You know we're not a couple anymore," she confessed, regretting answering at all when Ginny stood from where she was seated to join Hermione on the sofa. Leaning closer, her eyes exuding curiosity.
"You mean to tell me you have a new love interest?" Ginny's mind was racing with the epiphany.
Ginny knew her friend had many struggles post war, and one time she had caught strange marks on Hermiones wrist and called her out on it. Hermione had reluctantly let her in on exactly what she'd been doing when she wasn't studying for her N.E.W.T:s. Apparently she'd spent the day before shagging and being tied up by a blonde wizard.
Ginny hadn't been ecstatic about who the culprit was, but she saw the positive effects. Hermione gradually stopped with her muggle drugs, seemed happier, healthier, like she was coming in to her own, not quite like the old Hermione, but a new, stronger version. She accepted it, but she didn't trust the man.
Ginny's question was still lingering in the air, but as she looked over at Hermione, her brown eyes gave her away. They always did.
Ginny's eyes narrowed. Hermione could practically see as her red haired friend put two and two together.
"I wouldn't say new exactly," Hermione admitted, giving her friend an unmistakable clue.
She waited for the explosion.
"Malfoy?" Ginny yelled, very sure of her conclusion, almost causing Hermione to spill some of the wine from her glass. Ginny's eyes widened when she saw the guilt written all over Hermione's face. "Oh, of course it's him," she continued, gesturing with her hand. "I didn't believe it when mom told me! Were you snogging him in the library at Hogwarts then?" Ginny's sentences were incoherent and her eyes were glowing; it made Hermione feel uncomfortable and she shifted in her seat, tapping her fingers against the wineglass.
"Yes it's Draco. And yes, we might have snogged in the library. Question is how do you know that?" She was suddenly anxious, had someone spotted them in the library? She pulled the glass of wine to her lips, swallowing two big gulps to steady the nerves, thinking she was happy snogging was all that happened there.
"A Ravenclaw student, daughter to a friend of mom's, she'd told her mom that she'd seen you and Draco snogging, apparently it's the talk at Hogwarts now," Ginny said, shrugging her shoulders.
"You knew this and didn't tell me?" Hermione blamed, feeling a bit betrayed.
"I didn't think there was any truth to it. You remember how much students gossip there," Ginny said, only looking slightly guilty.
Hermione started explaining to the best of her efforts what had happened during her visit to Hogwarts. Telling her about their date, not even leaving out their pre dinner activity in the bathroom. She told her about the butterflies in her stomach and the way he made her weak in the knees. She watched Ginny's reactions as she continued on, and she saw a few flashes of apprehension.
"You're telling me you have feelings for Draco Malfoy?" The way his name rolled across her tongue made him sound like every villain in all films ever made.
Hermione sighed and gestured with her hands in resignation. "Yes. I suppose I am," she said and it felt liberating to say it out loud. She barely had time to finish her sentence before Ginny spoke again.
"And, you shagged Malfoy in a public bathroom?" Ginny was grinning. "Merlin you two seem to have the most exciting sex," she continued and Hermione detected a slight hint of envy.
Hermione chuckled in response.
"What now then? Are you guys still meeting up for secret rendezvous in public places?" Ginny placed her wineglass on the coffee table.
"No, I haven't heard a single word from him since," she confessed, the hurt unmistakable in her voice.
Ginny sipped her wine again and mumbled something about Draco being an absolute git. She nodded in partial agreement.
"Maybe you should owl him?" She suggested after a moment of silence. The thought had crossed Hermione several times.
"On second thought, perhaps not." Ginny stared onto a page in the magazine in her lap. She held it out for Hermione to take and looked at her with a level of pity that made Hermione's heart catch in her throat.
On page six of the magazine was a picture of Draco, it only showed his back, his arm was placed on the back of a tall, slender, brown haired woman. Hermione immediately recognized her as Astoria Greengrass. The article said nothing in particular, only that Draco and Astoria had been spotted entering a residence building in Paris.
Hermione felt herself getting nauseous, she didn't usually buy in to gossip but it made sense to her. She had shared about her and Ron's breakup, but he had been completely mute on the subject of previous relationships. Astoria's name hadn't escaped his lips once.
Did that mean he'd cheated on Astoria? Was Hermione the other woman? Why had he asked her on a date if he was involved with Astoria? Her mind was racing and her nausea increased for each staggered breath she managed.
It was on the following Monday Hermione accepted the date with Theodore Nott. Untimely or not, she no longer cared.
-o-o-o-
Draco had been drowning in work, his days seemed only filled with meetings and paperwork.
He was occupied with a summary on a break trough meeting with the Ministry in France on a Friday afternoon. He hoped after said meeting he could finally head back to London, and spend his Christmas there instead of in Paris. He'd written a letter that he wanted to send Hermione, the only thing stopping him was his apprehension that maybe she had no interest in seeing him. To say they'd left things unclear would be an understatement.
To his dismay he had not yet been able to shake that weekend in Hogsmeade, he'd found himself smiling like a fool several times when preparing his tea, thinking about how Hermione poured her milk in before letting the tea brew. It annoyed him to no end.
As he started on the last paragraph of his summary, a bell rang, letting him know that someone was outside his building and wanted entrance. The button that allowed for him to buzz guests in was broken, he truly hated muggle inventions, they were always flawed and easily broken. He descended the stairs down to the buildings entrance.
As he opened the door, there stood Astoria, dressed in a coat that looked tailored to her frame, her brown hair gathered into a slick ponytail. Behind her he spotted cameras flashing away.
Brilliant. With Astoria came the gossip press it seemed.
"Astoria," he acknowledged and put a hand on her back to drag her inside, an attempt to avoid the flashing lights.
-o-o-o-
Draco was seated with his face buried in his hands. He stood, yelled, and sat back down. Unable to decide in what position he wanted to continue this conversation.
The word pregnant echoed in his head as he silently tried to make out the math. He looked at her flat stomach, only partially visible through her opened coat. Confusion hit him like bricks.
"I didn't say I was still pregnant did I?" she said when she noticed his stare.
Her answer did nothing to ease his confusion, until the word abortion escaped her pink-coated lips, she was shrugging her shoulders as if she'd just told him the milk in his fridge had gone bad.
"You're telling me you were pregnant with my child and you didn't think to let me know before you made your decision?" Draco was fuming.
"You and I both know we can't have a child together," she stated, resting her weight against the wall.
Draco nodded. "That's true, considering how embarrassed you were to be seen with me, I can imagine having a child with me would be mortifying to you" he said coldly and the look on her face said more than enough.
It broke him, just a little.
"That's not- I mean. Just thought I'd let you know that's all," she said, pursing her lips and crossing her arms over her chest. Not denying any of what he just said.
He took deep breaths. Clenching his fists so hard his nails made deep indents in his palm.
"Get out," he said firmly, his voice calm, his grey eyes lethal.
"You don't have to be so mad about it really. It's not like you want to have a child with me either," she countered, batting her lashes and putting her red manicured nails into the pockets of her coat, she hadn't even found the visit important enough to remove it.
It took all of Draco's strength not to hex her into oblivion. Instead, he pointed his wand towards the door; it shot open with a non-verbal spell.
"Out," he growled, through clenched teeth. His mind clouded with rage.
Astoria shook her head in scepticism, as if his reaction was below her. She gave him one last look and mumbled something about Malfoy temper, whatever the hell that meant, as she walked out.
He rummaged his cabinets for anything to take his mind off things, when he came across an expensive bottle of fire whiskey Astoria had gifted him, he'd been saving it for a special occasion and decided this was special enough.
The more he drank the more he managed to organise his thoughts. In the end, the decision would have been hers either way. He would never have forced her to have a child if it was not what they both wanted. The conclusion however, did nothing to excuse the fact she hadn't told him until after the abortion potion had touched her lips.
There had been a child.
His child.
A Malfoy heir.
In a way he blamed himself. Had the war not changed him so much, had the pureblood's cause still been his top priority, Astoria wouldn't have had an abortion. He was sure of it. What they had when they had it had been real, but she was too vain, cared too much of how things looked. And there he had been, working hard to do the right thing, and it ended up costing him his child,. The thought alone was enough to send him into a complete frenzy.
Draco had never been good at dealing with his emotions, especially when he as unprepared.
He broke chairs, tables, cabinets, and drawers until his flat looked as messy as his mind felt. With a flick of his wand he restored everything only to repeat the process three more times until he was out of breath and crying on the sofa with the whiskey bottle held close to his chest.
He wasn't sure how it happened, but suddenly he was again seated on his sofa, whiskey glass in hand, as he pressed play on his remote. The only reason he had a television in his flat was because he on occasion enjoyed listening to the muggle news in the background while he cooked.
Draco had gone outside and rented a film at a muggle establishment, exactly how he got there or how he got back he wasn't sure of. His mind was occupied with thoughts of Hermione, and whether she too, was embarrassed to have anything to do with him. It seemed he couldn't do anything right when it came to relationships and he blamed his father for that.
The firewhiskey did nothing to soothe his state of mind, it only seemed to make it worse, but the way it burned down his throat was too comforting for him to stop.
When the film about two lovers on the sinking Titanic reached it's end Draco found himself standing and yelling at the screen, gesturing wildly with his hands, whiskey flying all over the floor, drenching his socks.
"THERE IS PLACE ON THAT RAFT ROSE!"
-o-o-o-
When Draco woke his head was throbbing and his neck was stiff from his unconventional sleeping position on the sofa. His entire body ached as if he'd been part of a pub fight the day before. He searched every inch of his cabinets for a hangover potion, he found none; it was at times like this he really missed the comfort of Malfoy Manor and house elves.
After several attempts he finally managed a coherent letter to his employees informing he was out sick for the day, that's when he noticed his owl was nowhere to be found.
Using a simple charm, he made himself some black coffee, and drank enough to clear his mind of the hangover fog, burning his tongue in the process. He took notice of a letter crumbled on the table. Vaguely recalling he'd gotten it last night, from Blaise Zabini. He smoothed the parchment to read it; he had no recollection of the content.
D,
Are you coming to London for Christmas? If so a pub-crawl is way overdue. You, me, Theo.
Let me know.
Oh, and Theo the git apparently managed a date with Granger. Can you believe?
/B
Draco stood abruptly when a certain memory hit him. The words Theo, date and Granger had sent him into madness. He'd been seated in his study, he remembered watching the ink sway underneath his quill as he wrote with vigour after receiving the letter from Blaise.
His letter had been placed in an enchanted red envelope, and it had been addressed to someone else.
A howler.
A fucking howler addressed to Hermione Granger, Ministry of Magic, U.K. So that's where his owl was.
Of course he hadn't even been bothered to look up her own address, he'd sent the damn thing to her place of work. Draco badly wished he had a time turner, but he did not.
He groaned in frustration and eyed his wristwatch. The owl would reach the Ministry the next working day. He had no choice but to get dressed and use the floo-network to his London flat, from there he could apparate to the Ministry early morning on Monday and try to intercept the howler in time. He had no idea what nonsense he might have written into that howler. Considering his state of mind last night, he suspected the content of it to be unpleasant.
He condemned himself many times as he dressed and grabbed a handful of floopowder.
"Draco Malfoy London flat" he called, and with those words he left Paris behind.
