Draco Malfoy and His Quest to Sensibility
by cleury
Chapter XXVII
"You weren't expecting visitors and yeah…"
Those were the last words Draco spoke to Hermione. He had been busy with work and had flown to all four corners of Europe to talk to his business partners. So far they had been disagreeable at best. Perhaps it was time for the Malfoy company to try its luck across the Atlantic Ocean. He had finally came back to England after a long hard week; and when he stopped by to visit Hermione a few days later, after his session with Luna, her room had already been cleared and emptied. Luna told Draco that Hermione had left with promise to write when she had settled in her new place. All of Hermione's personal effects – the pictures on her walls, the bookshelf, all the books – had disappeared, and the only evidence of them being there were the darker part of the walls where the objects had protected the wallpaper from the sunlight. Draco felt dejected Hermione hadn't told him she was leaving, but then again, there was noreal reason to. Plus, it felt like something Crookshanks would have done—he always came and went as he pleased. Draco's heart stung as he thought of Crookshanks, but couldn't help smile at the thought of cat polygamy.
Loss did funny things to a person's heart and mind.
He Floo'ed to work, whistling. It seemed his moping had given his brain time to reset, and the change of pace helped his creativity flow. He had a new vision for the product launch, and he couldn't wait to share it with Adrian. Draco appeared and coughed as he inhaled the Floo powder into his lungs. He continued to cough and splutter as he stepped out of the fireplace. Once he recovered, he looked up to see Adrian already at work, filing some documents. Draco nodded at him and said, "Floo powder is not made for inhaling."
Adrian chuckled and leaned back in his chair, watching as the blond man continued to choke. "That's the first thing you say to me out of a business context after The Incident?" he said, quoting the last two words with his fingers.
Draco made a face. "I guess I should apologize for stuffing you with all the work. But you didn't get far with the product launch and I have an idea, so I guess that makes us even."
Adrian smiled and shook his head. He could tell Draco was trying to be a nicer man, but sometimes the stuff that came out of his mouth stung a lot. He guessed that was something he had to deal with if he associated with Draco. After all, nobody was perfect. "Want to hear about the rumors in the betting pool since your absence?"
"Sure," said Draco, nodding as he scanned the folders on his desk.
"Well, the most popular one was that you had eloped with Ginevra Weasley…"
"Again?" asked Draco.
"The next leading theory was: Ron Weasley, who had recently become a rogue, challenged you and was shot dead by your killing curse. Oh, and you weren't at the company because you were being carted off to prison."
Draco snorted. "Well, the only dopes worth shooting are the Weasel family."
Adrian couldn't help but crack a wry grin at Draco's comment.
"What?"
Adrian shook his head. "Just thinking about how you've grown up."
Draco shook his head and his eyes flitted back down to the files. He was on a roll; he hadn't reminded anyone of their stupidity… at least enough to make them cry. That in itself was an achievement for Draco. As Luna said: 'one good deed at a time.' And one step closer to Sainthood. Draco shrugged and he looked forward. He frowned, amazed he hadn't seen this earlier. "What's this?"
"Hm?" Adrian leaned over to see what Draco was holding in his hand.
Draco rolled the item in his hand. It was his paper-weight. Along the crevices and cracks where the crystal broke, someone aggrandized the damage by filling the cracks with silver. He lifted the paper weight up to eye-level and held it up to the natural light, admiring the handiwork. Silver veins ran along the sides of the crystal, and the silver gave an extra gleam to paperweight.
"Oh, that shiny thing," said Adrian. Draco suppressed the urge to roll his eyes as to not taint his train of thoughts with annoyance. "There was a note that came with it."
Draco spotted the piece of paper that had been sitting under the paper-weight, and read the message in his head.
"What is it? A proclamation of love?"
Draco's mouth twisted. "No." He read the next words aloud: "'The world breaks everyone, then some become strong at the broken places.' Ernest Hemingway."
"Huh," said Adrian. He did not appreciate the sentiments at all, as he was more of a drinking and Quidditch kind of guy. "Poetry. From Theo?"
Draco didn't answer and continued admiring the artwork. He wasn't about to go all out philosophical, but he could grasp the meaning well enough. The design of mending his broken paper weight was to accentuate how it was impossible to hide what was broken or make slight of it—he shouldn't forget the bad things that had come to pass; people had to concentrate on honoring the history of what caused something – or them – to break, as it added to their new identity. It was more important to accept reality and move forward. Though objects, places and people could, and would, eventually change, the essence of the item was still there. The brokenness and the mend gave the object extra dimension and should be admired even more for its resilience. Draco laughed, knowing exactly who gave him this.
"She couldn't just say sorry and give it back without making it some kind of lesson." Draco placed the paper weight gently to the side of his desk and smiled. Adrian looked at him.
"She?"
"Yup. Why are you surprised that I get gifts from girls? I might not be jaw-droppingly handsome, but I'm rich and single," said Draco smugly.
Adrian made a whole demonstration of coughing and choking to show his disbelief. "Yeah, mate. Whatever."
News about Hermione over the next few weeks came in small droplets as rare and as coveted as moisture in the deserts. Draco kept an attentive ear out for news of her, though he barely needed to make a special effort. Pansy always seemed to know what was going on. But then, he didn't know if he could believe what the rumor mill spilled out. After all, they had said he eloped with Ginevra Weasley, for Merlin's sake! So Draco was slightly skeptical when Pansy burst into his Manor one evening, waving the Daily Prophet in her hands. Draco raised his eyebrow and noticed that Pansy was deliberately ignoring Blaise, and he was trailing close behind like a lost puppy. Draco sighed. He saw their relationship as too needy and demanding, but he had made peace with it. He would deal with their break up when the time came.
"Somebody made a fool of themselves!" hollered Pansy as she pounced onto the couch.
Draco gave a sly smirk. "What did Blaise do again?"
"Oh, ha, ha. Very funny," said Blaise crossing his arms over his chest. He immediately headed towards Draco's liquor cabinet, and poured himself a drink.
Draco mouthed the words to Pansy. "What did he do now?"
Pansy rolled her eyes and made a face in Blaise's direction. "I don't want to talk about Blaise. He's dead to me right now," said Pansy loudly. Blaise flinched. Pansy directed her attention back to Draco and spoke. "Lookie!"
"What is this?" he said, holding up the paper so he could read the headline.
SPIDERMAN RON WEASLEY
"Since when did Ron Weasley become a superhero?"
"Superhero?" Pansy cocked her head.
"Muggle reference, don't mind me."
Pansy pouted. "You've been making a lot more of them recently."
Draco shrugged and continued reading.
SPIDERMAN RON WEASLEY
It's been common knowledge that the redhead from the Golden Trio has an extreme fear of spiders. He reportedly failed the Auror Stealth and Tracking test because of them. So why, after so long since the couple had parted, did Hermione Granger cast an Oppugno charm and conjure an army of spiders on him?
Draco snorted, delighting in the headline and at Ron's misfortune.
"Do you know why she did that?"
"The last time I talked to her, she didn't seem to like the Weasel too much."
Pansy laughed snottily. "No one likes the Weasel."
Draco laughed as he saw images of Ron's terror and his journey across the park—he finally dived into a duck pond to get rid of the spiders. In the background, out of focus and fuzzy, he saw Hermione grin triumphantly. Draco cracked a grin. "Thanks Pans, watching the Weasel suffer always brightens my day."
Pansy sniffed haughtily and lounged on Draco's sofa. "Of course."
"I'll convince Blaise to buy you something sparkly later."
"Hmph."
Draco shook his head, re-watching the small picture of Ron Weasley screaming and diving into the duck pond. But this time, he concentrated on the top left corner, where Hermione would appear for a second, laughing.
It was several weeks again before Draco heard something else about Hermione. Through Pansy, of course.
"Did you know? I heard that Hermione's moving to America!"
"Really now?"
"You don't sound a bit surprised."
"I'm not."
Pansy raised her eyebrow. Though she held royal court, and was queen of the Country of Rumor and Gossip, she had no spies or jurisdiction in the United States of Draco Malfoy. "Spill."
Draco shrugged nonchalantly, knowing how much he was irritating Pansy. "Nothing much to spill. She's going to America? Good for her."
Pansy gave Draco a sour face, and stole the strawberry from his chocolate cake.
"Hey!"
An owl came for him later that night. He unfurled the piece of parchment, after such a long time, Hermione had decided to contact him. "She wants me to meet at the café by the park. Huh." He didn't know whether to find it ominous or not, but it was the same place she had hexed Ron and made him dive into the duck pond. He, for one, wasn't afraid of spiders, but he had no desire to be covered in them. Draco shook his head and wrote her a reply.
Five minutes later, a reply came back, and the date and time were confirmed.
He would meet Hermione tomorrow at noon.
I did the John Green thing where I explained my metaphor in my own writing. I couldn't help myself, but the opportunity was much too precious to pass up. Not too sure why I didn't update earlier. Sorry not sorry. Hope you liked this chapter!