A/N: Happy Friday! Friendly reminder that this is based on the romcom The Ugly Truth and therefore is supposed to be an over-the-top, cheesy romance. You're under no obligation to keep reading if you don't enjoy that sort of thing. Have a lovely weekend and thanks for reading!
Chapter 11: Vow Fulfilled
She'd kissed Malfoy.
Hermione flopped into her oversized bed, sinking into the cushion with a disbelieving groan. Again, she lifted her fingertips to her lips, running them over the plump curve that Draco had bit teasingly.
She could still hear the echo of his groan, feel the solidity of him against her chest, and she pushed herself upright, staring at the thin wall separating her room from Draco's. He was right there, and suddenly everything she'd been unsure of clicked into place.
How could she have been so stupid?
It'd been Malfoy all along.
Acknowledging it sent a thrill of anticipation through her core, and before she realised what she was doing, she was darting across her hotel room, reaching for the door handle, when a knock sounded on the door.
Her heart was in her throat, stomach tying into delicious anticipatory knots. He was here.
Oh gods, Malfoy had come after her.
She shouldn't have been excited, but Hermione couldn't quell the racing in her heart, the way it vied to escape the long column of her throat as she raced across the room on the balls of her feet to check herself in the mirror. Rocking to a stop, she ran a quick hand over her hair, checked to ensure her breasts look perky and inviting—she didn't care how ridiculous it was; she wanted to look good—and then tiptoed back across the room and opened the door with a beaming smile on her face.
But the expression fell away, disappointment a bitter tang in her mouth.
"Hello, love."
"Theo?" Dropping her hand from the door handle, she took an involuntary step back, trying to process the new information, but Theo slipped through the open doorway. He deposited the bottle of cheap red wine in his hand on the entry table, his free hand settling on the curve of her waist in an altogether too-familiar gesture that she was finally admitting to herself didn't feel right. When he pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek, she closed her eyes against the guilt.
Gods, why did this disappointment hurt so bad?
Pulling away, he scanned her features, a quizzical pull to his brow. "You were expecting someone else?"
Yes. "No! Just—"
"Surprised?" he intoned, squeezing her hip before he moved past her. "I knew how disappointed you were when you had to cancel, so I thought I'd bring the weekend to you—I still had Portkey access from our last trip, so I thought it would be romantic."
She quickly arranged the disappointment on her features into a tight smile before she turned around, watching him make himself at home in her hotel room. His trainers rested one atop the other near the breakfast bar where he'd toed them off, laces still done up, and he summoned two of the champagne flutes from the bar as he watched her.
Pouring two glasses, he settled on the bed where she'd finally admitted to herself her feelings for Malfoy were real only moments before and another pang clenched her heart. Theo was a good guy—just not the guy for her—and it was made all the more abundantly clear as he prattled on at her while she stared at him with her mouth hanging open.
"When I heard Daphne talking about La Sorcière de Paris, I assumed you'd be staying in the city. Thankfully, Avonlea has become a close friend due to my work travels and…"
Theo kept talking, spreading out across the mattress as he lounged with the glass of wine. She nodded to herself, trying to appear as though she was interested when her mind—and heart—were in the room just next to hers. "Besides, I just remembered how much you love spontaneous trips and this could be one we shared together."
Bristling, Hermione closed her eyes. She didn't love the spontaneous trips. She loved her order and routine and mundane life focused on the career she enjoyed. The career Theo continued to disparage as simply the magazine.
But he finally slowed, pushing upright to gaze at her quizzically; the sudden motion sent the wine in his glass sloshing over the edge, and she thanked whatever gods were listening for the interruption.
"Bugger," he muttered, dabbing at the bright red spot blooming on his shirt. "Well, looks like this will be coming off quicker than I expected."
Hermione huffed a mortified half-laugh in response, quickly standing and crossing to the door. "I'll go get some more towels from the front desk; you just wait here!"
His confused voice followed her as she raced to the door. "Hermione, wait—just call for a house elf!"
She didn't stop her frantic power walk when the door closed behind her, heading towards the lift with her head down, but she'd barely made it four steps when she crashed into a very solid wall of flesh.
"Oh gods, I'm so sorry," she huffed, steadying herself on their forearms. But when she finally looked up, her breath caught in her throat, a hungry, grey gaze locked on her. "Draco."
The smirk that unfurled at her breathy recognition of him was nearly her undoing. And when he cupped her chin in his hand, breath fanning over her face, she was sure he'd be able to hear the thundering of her heart. "Where are you going, love?"
She wanted to respond that she was coming to find him—that she wanted to come find him—but she couldn't bring herself to lie. Not to Draco. Instead, she leaned into him, breathing in the warmth of his scent.
Just as Draco softened into her, the click of her door behind her sounded, and he stiffened, the soft contours of his body she'd been settling into hardening into stone as Theo's voice echoed down the hall.
"Hermione, I summoned a house elf so you don't have to—" Abruptly, his shouting stopped as he stepped out into the hallway. At some point, Draco had stepped away from her, arms hanging limply at his side and jaw wound tightly shut.
She turned, her motions robotic, and smiled tightly at Theo. "Thanks, Theo. Saved me a trip to the lobby."
Nodding, he strode forward, the flaps of his unbuttoned Oxford hanging loose as he wrapped an arm around her with a warm smile. "You're welcome, love." The endearment that had been so welcome moments before grated on her nerves, but Theo quickly turned to Draco, schooling his expression. "Malfoy."
"Nott," Draco returned, his tone poisonous. "I was just coming to inform Hermione of some changes to our itinerary. Lucky for me that she ran headlong into me." He couldn't hide the pang of sorrow in his eyes when he looked at her.
Draco's explanation must have sufficed for Theo because the rigidity melted from him, squeezing Hermione's shoulders tightly before freeing her. "Right then. I'll just give you both a minute to work out travel details, and I'll see you inside!" His lips felt like sandpaper against her skin when he brushed them against her, but then he was gone, the door clickingshut and the hall falling silent.
"Draco, I—"
He held up a hand, a tic in his jaw giving away his feelings. "Don't bother, Granger. I get it." Turning, he shoved his hands in his pockets, making towards his hotel room door.
Heart in her throat, she scrambled after him, coming to a stop between him and his door. "Wait. Please." Finally, he stopped, staring down at her, his quirked brow waiting for a response. "He knocked on the door right after we separated. I thought—" Her breath caught in her throat, but she pushed forward. "I thought it was you."
At that, he scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Right, and I suppose we're all interchangeable now." The glare he pierced her with was withering; she'd never felt so small before. "I can't believe you, Granger. All this drivel about falling in love and being a positive example for the future of the wizarding world and you can't even take your own advice."
Leaning over her, he unlocked his door and pushed it inward, trying to step past her, but she forced one last bit of courage into her voice. "Tell me what happened before. Out here." She searched his face, but he'd perfected that mask again, the one that he was wearing when she first saw him in the Witch Weekly office. "What was that kiss?"
His lips softened incrementally, a harsh sigh expelling the defeat written clearly on his face.
After several seconds, she pushed him again. "Does Theo need to go?"
The mention of the other man broke Draco's spell, and he shook his head. "Nah, Granger. No sense throwing it all away when you've worked so hard for it." He chuffed her under the chin, a familiar action that she desperately wanted to lean into. "I'll see you back in London."
He moved into his room, his back to her, and Hermione's heart knocked painfully. "That's it? That's all you have to say about all of this?" Her hand fluttered, motioning between them, but he just laughed.
When he turned to face her, he'd carefully schooled his expression again. "What do you want me to say?"
Hermione couldn't help the way her shoulders slumped. Everything. She wanted him to say everything that she could feel between them, to put a name to it that she couldn't bring herself to, but he just shook his head again and turned away, flopping down in the bed with his back to her.
Allowing the door to click shut between them felt like the end of something Hermione had just discovered.
She couldn't immediately return to Theo. Not when he would expect her to be happy and excited to see him, to be just as invested in this relationship as he is.
After several laps around the hall, down two stories and back, her nerves had finally settled, and she waved her wand over the lock for admittance into the room.
As soon as the door opened, Theo looked up from the bed, a brilliant smile tilting his lips upward. "There you are! I was worried about you. Shouldn't be, though; you've always got it all together."
It was annoying just how clear it was that he knew nothing about her, but she accepted the proffered glass of wine, taking a deep slug of it before answering him. "Sorry about that—he wanted to talk about the meeting today and update me on travel plans. It's been a long day."
Theo unfolded himself from his lounge on the bed and crossed the room to her.
As he approached, Hermione allowed herself to admire him. He was fit—clearly he took care of himself. He was successful and kind, if a little oblivious to the sort of woman she was. Though that was mostly her fault; she'd not been honest with him from the start, and therein was the problem.
Theo didn't know who she was; he didn't know the little quirks that made her tick or the pet peeves she buried whenever she was around him. Everything he knew about her had been filtered to create the perfect image she presented whenever he was around her.
"But now it's over and we can spend some time together." Featherlight touches skated over her arm before he wove his fingers through hers. "Is that a new dress?" His voice rumbled down on her, eyes soft as he studied her. "I like it; it's—"
"Theo, why do you like me?" she blurted, interrupting him.
Twin spots of colour rose to his cheeks as he stepped back, bewilderment shining in his eyes. "Well, I—um, you're beautiful, first of all." He wrapped one of her loose curls around his finger, allowing it to spring back before he added, "And you're so bloody smart; sometimes it's a little intimidating."
A flutter of warmth awakened in her belly, and Hermione smiled, squeezing his hand. For a moment, she allowed herself to relax, to forget the rest of the evening and focus on Theo, his soft smile and endearing innocence, but then he continued.
"Your magazine is so important to you, and it's the cutest thing I've ever seen. I love how hard you work to make it more than the silly columns that you have to publish." Blood roared in her ears as he turned, summoning the wine and refilling both glasses. "And you laugh at all of my jokes! You don't try to demand control of what we do during the weekends and actually let me plan dates."
She nodded, bitter tears springing to her eyes as she took another hearty sip of her wine and pulled her hand away under the guise of drawing out the chair that accompanied the room's dining set.
Theo stood before her, a dopey grin on his face as he went on. "It's so nice, honestly, to feel like my effort is appreciated—my ex-girlfriend was absolutely manic about planning everything to the last minute. You wouldn't even believe; she had timetables for her weekends, too. Never a minute of down time to take her on a nice—"
Hitting her breaking point at the growing fury in her chest, Hermione tossed the rest of her wine back.
Stopping in the middle of whatever inane sentence he was about to prattle next, Theo watched her, eyes growing wide. "Hermione, are you alright?"
She barked a short laugh with a nod. "Quite." A wave of her wand summoned the wine to her, and she filled her glass to the brim. "You see, I'm exactly like that."
Bewildered, he tried to keep up with her, but failed, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but exactly like what?"
Steeling her spine, Hermione canted her head at him, chewing on her lip before she answered. "I live by my timetables. Everyone knows it—if not for my timetables, I'd be lost." She sniffed. "And I am lost without them. I've stayed up late every night for weeks just to make it through my work in time."
The colour that rose to his cheeks not so many minutes earlier drained, and Theo stared at her, mouth agape. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to—"
But she waved him off, pacing through the room as she sipped at her wine. "It's not even your fault. I've been this—this—" Flapping her hand wildly, she turned to face him, finally able to breathe with the void between them. "This facade of myself, all done up in Pansy's pretty dresses and grimacing through a performance to keep you interested in me."
He didn't respond other than to blink owlishly at her, so she dropped onto the end of the bed. "And it's exhausting." Plucking away at an imagined loose string in the duvet, she finished, "So no, you don't really know me at all."
Silence.
And then, "Maybe that's why I'm not happy at all. I haven't been myself at all in the eight months we've been together."
Almost as though he's released a string holding him upright, Theo sagged, and inexplicably, a relieved grin crossed his face. "Thank Merlin."
Startling, Hermione glanced up at him. "Pardon?"
Theo plopped into the chair she'd vacated only moments before, depositing the wine on the table with a distasteful grimace. "I've got to be honest; I haven't been myself either."
Hermione's mind spun, trying to keep up with his revelation. "Then who have you been?"
Shrugging, Theo leaned forward, scrubbing his face harshly with his palms. "Honestly?"
Despite herself, a small titter escaped her at his question. "I think we owe each other that at this point." Impossibly, it feels like a weight lifted off her chest as he summoned his wallet. From within, he extracted several folded pages which look suspiciously like—
Excerpts from Witch Weekly.
The colour returned to his cheeks, spreading to the planes of his chest she could see peeking out of the open lapels of his shirt. "See, I was taking advice from someone I'm not sure I should have been listening to all along." A flick of his wand sent the articles flying towards her.
As they settled on the bed, laughter overtook her. She picked the stack up, rifling through each article, all of them containing the same byline.
Draco Malfoy, Special Contributor.
Theo's pained laughter answered hers. "It's ridiculous, I know. I saw one of his shows when I first moved here and thought, even though he was rough around the edges, he made some good points." He shrugged. "It was almost serendipitous when I met you and the magazine announced he would be a contributor for the foreseeable future."
It was unbelievable, but Hermione felt lighter than she had in months. As she scrutinised the articles closer, she realised that each of them had been written towards the beginning of her relationship with Theo.Before Malfoy had started to soften his approach to relationships. "So you've been taking the advice of his articles and, what, applying it to our relationship?"
A mischievous grin curled his lips. "Essentially?" He sighed, sobering. "Look, it's not that you're not great, but I don't have the best track record with women, and I thought if I—"
"Changed who you were a bit you might be able to make it work?" she finished, smirking through her embarrassment. "Sounds familiar."
"We really buggered this up, didn't we?" His tone was wistful.
But Hermione couldn't focus on his words, her mind on a certain blond-haired prat just on the other side of the wall from her. Leaping off the bed, a torrent of words streaming from her mouth, Hermione explained, "Maybe if we'd been honest with each other from the start, this could have turned out better, but I—" she paused, unwilling to hurt him, but he raised his hand.
"Go after him, Hermione." A grin split his face as he enveloped her in a quick hug. "Just uh—one quick question." He stepped back, a sheepish glint to his expression. "Your employee, Luna Lovegood? She, uh… well, she came to Mungo's a few months ago for an injury—the nature of which I can't disclose due to my position," he intoned seriously. But then his eyes lit up again. "And, well… she's been by a few times afterwards as a volunteer and we've become friends."
Gods, this could not be any weirder, but Hermione managed a laugh at both of their expenses. "Theodore Nott, have you fallen in love with Luna Lovegood?"
He refused to meet her gaze, his blush radiating like a beacon, but he managed to quip back, "Perhaps, but only if you'll admit you fell in love with Draco Malfoy."
Freezing, she stared up at him, the declaration bold and yet…
Entirely true.
The Unbreakable Vow that had been wrapped dormant around her wrist for all those months flared bright, the warmth of it tingling in a brilliant glow. It was all the proof she needed, wrapped around her wrist for both of them to see.
"I love him," she whispered, and Theo's answering grin was bright.
"Go get your wizard!" He nudged her towards the door, clearly happy for her but itching to go after Luna. But then reality crashed over her. If she felt the completion of the vow…
That meant Draco had too.
And he probably thought it meant that she'd fallen for Theo after Draco had let her go.
Without another word to Theo, she tore out of the room.
Borne by her panic, she sprinted the slight distance to his room, heart in her throat. After several deep breaths, she pounded on the wood, the force of it making the door shake.
In the few seconds between knocks, she rehearsed what she would say.
I've been so wrong all this time; I thought it was Theo, but it's you.
No, that wouldn't work.
You're an utter prat, but I want to kiss you again. I want to keep kissing you until—
But silence met her; no one came to the door, so she turned, sprinting back to her room.
Theo was gone, the slight smell of burnt Floo powder hanging in the air and signalling her departure, but Hermione didn't allow herself to smile at the turn of events. Instead, she waved her wand, disillusioning herself as she stepped onto her balcony and Apparated the few feet to his. Then, with another flick of her wrist, the balcony lock clicked open and she stepped in.
She expected him to yell at her, to be angry that she'd barged in or sulk that she'd gone back to Theo after their day together, but none of that greeted her.
The room was empty. Malfoy's bags were gone. The bed was neatly made, pillows tucked in place as if they'd never been disturbed. Even the sweat on the outsides of the glasses was undisturbed, as though he hadn't even paused for a drink.
Draco was gone.
She spent the whole of her Sunday morning hiding in her hotel room nursing her wounds. Then, as she packed her bags and made her way to the French Ministry, she again rehearsed what she would say to him.
All of the things she'd realised as she laid in her bed alone the previous night would threaten to spill loose, but he deserved a succinct apology. She wanted to beg him to give her a second chance, to allow her to grovel—and Hermione Granger never grovelled.
When she arrived at the Ministry, she waited in the opulent corridor outside the Office of Magical Transportation after ensuring he wasn't inside. She paced back and forth across the fancy tiles, her trainers squeaking beneath yet another faded sundress she'd pulled out of the depths of her closet for the occasion, but he never showed.
Two minutes before the Portkey was set to depart, Blaise arrived, his brow drawn down in a sharp vee. "He's not coming, Hermione." Blaise didn't need to clarify any further, but he stopped in front of her, warring emotions in his eyes. "You really fucked him up."
A woman with a severe bob stuck her head out in the corridor, reminding them of their impending departure. The distraction allowed Hermione to duck her head, wiping away the tears that had sprung to her eyes.
Alone again, she tried to explain, "I didn't realise—what I mean to say is that I wasn't supposed to fall in love with him." She sniffled, looking away. "I didn't mean to hurt him."
Blaise's countenance softened incrementally in her peripheral vision, and he wrapped her in an awkward, one-armed hug. "Just give him a bit, yeah? You hurt his feelings; he just needs a little time to lick his wounds."
The woman popped out of the room again, a disapproving frown on her face as she peered down her nose at them "Your Portkey departs in one minute. I should advise you to move along lest you want to go through the paperwork of securing another." The door slammed behind her.
Snorting a laugh, Blaise uttered, "Honestly, how a woman who is all but a hundred and fifty centimetres tall can be imposing is beyond me, but we ought to get moving."
Hermione bolstered herself with a deep breath and nodded, extracting herself from his hold and entering the door, returning to London with a far heavier heart than she'd left it with.
She'd passed the rest of her Sunday evening on her sofa, Crookshanks in her lap. Her familiar had seemed to sense her distress and hadn't left her side since returning home from Paris. After staring at the bags containing her clothes from the weekend for the better part of an hour, Hermione deemed it a lost cause.
For once, she finally understood Ron's maxim of putting off what didn't need done today until tomorrow.
She'd slept fitfully, and when her alarm roused her at half past seven, she pushed snooze for the first time she could remember. Finally, at a quarter to eight, she heaved herself out of bed, summoned a pair of her old dress trousers and a plain, purple blouse, and Flooed directly into her office.
If she could have her way, she'd hole herself up in there for the entire day, avoiding anyone outside of those four walls.
Deep down, her heart fluttered at the thought of seeing Draco again.
She'd thought about it most of the evening with Crooks in her lap. When he walked in, she would make him sit and listen to her while she explained it all to him. It was rather simple, if she thought about it.
At some point during the months they'd spent together in this office, crafting articles and teasing each other endlessly about one thing or another, she'd fallen for him. She just hadn't wanted to acknowledge it.
Some part of her allowed that she'd failed to tell him because she was afraid of his reaction; after all, he survived on that playboy image he'd perfected for himself. Another part piped in that she'd initially been anxious over how her friends would react, but none of them were overly large parts of her life. She loved them, and they'd always be family, but they'd grown up and settled into separate careers.
The biggest part of her admitted that she was scared because Draco Malfoy was everything she wasn't supposed to want. He was, for all intents and purposes, the antithesis of everything she had worked for and the reason why Davison had forced her to change Witch Weekly.
Settling into her chair, Hermione summoned one of the articles buried in the bottom of her work bag, untouched after the long weekend. The scent of the balcony's tulips washed over her when she opened the bag and a wistful sort of sigh escaped her.
Even as she worked, reading each sentence carefully and marking out what could be cut, her mind continued to wander to Malfoy.
When the clocked ticked over to eight-thirty, she frowned, but she kept on. Nine came and went, but no sign of Draco arrived.
Finally, just as she was about to lean forward and call Daphne in over the intercom, a sharp knock sounded at the door and her friend strode in. "You got a minute?"
Hermione could tell by the drawn expression on her face that the news Daphne bore wouldn't be good.
Settling her quill beside Luna's half-edited column on nargle infestations and their influence on political campaigns, Hermione swallowed. "What's up, Daph?"
The witch ignored her, tucking the folio she was carrying beside her in the chair. "So I had a date with Harry this weekend."
Brightening, Hermione leaned forward, propping her chin in her open palm. "And how was it?"
Daphne squirmed in her seat, but Hermione didn't miss the smile she tried to hide. "It was good." A beat passed before the smile won, and Daphne beamed at her. "It was great. A bit awkward at first because I couldn't shut up, but he's just so adorable."
Answering Daphne's smile with her own, Hermione nodded. "He can be, if you're into that sort of thing." The callback to Draco's phrase stung a bit, and her smile slipped.
Daphne noticed, but she ploughed onward, uncharacteristically chatty for the morning. "He took me to dinner and then we went for drinks." Daphne bounced in her seat, clapping a bit. "And then he kissed me—how dare you not tell me how good of a kisser he is."
Spluttering, Hermione brushed off her friend's accusation with a grimace. "Because I've never kissed him, Daph. Gods, what has gotten into—"
The Floo roared to life, interrupting Hermione, and suddenly Davison's face peered out of the embers, unlocked lest Draco decide to come to work that way. "Granger!"
Daphne blanched, running over to the grate and pressing the lock button, the folio she'd slid beside her in the chair clutched behind her back. She turned wide eyes on Hermione, who stood, approaching her friend with trepidation racing along her spine.
"Daph, what's going on?" Hermione tried to infuse as much warning into her tone as she could, but it still wavered uncertainly—she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
The Floo began to ring again, but Daphne held the lock button down, refusing to move. "Hermione—just give me a second to explain before you take that call."
All of her friend's giddiness had leached away, and a mixture of regret, sadness, and guilt tinged her eyes. The ringing stopped, only to be replaced by another series of peals as Davison tried to buzz through again.
Clearing her throat, Hermione waved at the grate, silencing the ringing and extending her hand. "I don't know what's going on here, but I need you to hand me that folder and explain before Davison has an apoplectic fit in my Floo," she warned, a touch firmer than she'd ever been to her friend.
Daphne deflated, removing the folder from behind her back and extending it slowly to her. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I wanted to give you good news before the bad but…" The folder fell open in Hermione's hand, the cover of La Sorcière de Paris staring back at her.
It wasn't the beautiful actress staring back at her that made her heart plummet to the depths of her stomach. It wasn't even the wealth of articles featured on the front that sparked a flare of jealousy at the magazine's success.
It was a byline, about five centimetres in length, that made her want to cry.
Draco Malfoy, special contributor.
A/N: Okay so I just couldn't help it; I had to make sure Theo didn't end up hurt. So, in the end, they're both just sorely mislead... and Theo is (to quote my wonderful beta) a kumquat lol. But he gets a happy ending! I hope you enjoyed this chapter; the final(!) will be up on Wednesday! Also shoutout to the anon from the last update who gave me the bad romance scene award of 2020. I needed that laugh!
also HUGE shoutout to my beta, In_Dreams, on this chapter because she had to correct my tense when I suddenly decided to write the entirety of this chapter in PRESENT TENSE for reasons unbeknowst to me. She is a god send and I'm incredibly grateful for her! My alphas, LadyKenz347 and mcal, are both incredible human beans! Drop what you're doing and go love on their fics!