A/N: Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter. I'm so glad you enjoyed it and were rooting for them to kiss. Who knows what will happen in the near future... Also a forewarning, this chapter is just under a thousand words short of the average length of the previous chapters and doesn't include Hermione directly; hope you still enjoy!
Two days had passed since the Ministry holiday ball and tonight was the night that Narcissa's Christmas ball would be hosted at Malfoy Manor. Draco had stayed the night in his old childhood bedroom on the Saturday and would help his mother with different things during the next afternoon in preparation for the ball that night. Sunday morning dawned and it was the peak of light coming through the gap of the large curtains on the window that woke Draco from his slumber. His room in the Manor was much bigger than his bedroom at home which only had a few pieces of furniture: a bed with side tables, a dresser and a small bookcase. In the bedroom he spent his childhood however, he had a much larger king sized four poster bed, an old but grand sofa that sat under the large paned window of the room, and a dresser with a long standing mirror besides it. All of the furniture was almost as old as the Manor but still looked perfectly polished and varnished, thanks to the house elves' cleaning habits over the years.
Not only was the bedroom large, a generously sized ensuite and walk in wardrobe were attached. It was the bathroom to which Draco headed ten minutes after he woke up. He hadn't had the best sleep due to the unfamiliarity of his old childhood room as he was much more used to his bedroom at home which he'd slept in every night for the last ten years, with the only days missed being the nights before the annual Christmas ball. What also irked him about his sleep was the dream he'd had which had been a repeat of the dream he'd had the night of the Ministry ball. He dreamt that he hadn't stopped dancing with Hermione and when they finally broke apart she lifted her head to kiss him. His dream always ended before their lips could touch and it frustrated him that even in his unconscious state he was still dreaming about the witch that had gotten under his skin. He hated that he dreamt of kissing her and he hated that all he could think about was the sway of her hips, the feeling of her smaller hand in his when they had danced and her short puffs of breath against his chin when they had stood by the Ministry fireplace.
Draco turned on the shower and waited until steam filled the glass cubicle before he undressed out of the white cotton t-shirt and pyjama pants he'd been wearing. Normally he slept only in his boxers, but the threat of a house elf or worse, his mother, walking into his bedroom when he was unawares made him dress properly for bed whenever he stayed over. Once he was undressed he stepped into the shower and adjusted the water to a temperature he could comfortably stand under, and let the water drench his hair and the rest of his body. He shampooed and conditioned his hair and then squirted body soap onto his hands and began to wash his body. It was as he was rubbing the soap over his chest that he remembered the feeling of Hermione's hand brushing against his chest while they had danced and how that action had been the reason for his rising heart rate which she'd commented on. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes as he stood under the water to wash the soap off but closing his eyes only imprinted the vision of her even stronger into his mind. He clenched his fingers into fists and images of her running her hands over his bare chest played behind his eyelids and when he imagined her lips pressing against the juncture of his neck and shoulder, he turned around in the shower and quickly turned the hot water tap off. The cold water jolted his system and he tortured himself under it for thirty-seconds until he had all images of Hermione out of his mind and instead of wanting her arms around him, he wanted a towel wrapped around him, so he turned off the water completely and stepped out to do just that.
He blamed his lustful thoughts about her on the fact that they had become increasingly close over the last two weeks and seeing her appearance at the ball had shocked him. He had never thought of her to be unattractive as an adult (his teenage views were a little more clouded) and the night before had shown to him that she 'cleaned up well' as some would put it. It had been a surprise to him how much he'd come to tolerate her company after spending so many hours with her recently and that was his one reasoning to thinking of her so often. He didn't like her, he didn't want to jump into bed with her, he didn't want to date her. He was simply intrigued over something he'd never thought of before. He pushed the brown haired witch out of his mind and left the bathroom with a towel around his waist and went to the wardrobe and took out a polo shirt and some trousers and after he was dressed and had dried his hair, he went downstairs to have breakfast with his mother in the dining room.
"Good morning, mother," he greeted Narcissa as he walked into the room and took the seat at the head of the table while she sat to the side.
"Good morning to you too," Narcissa said and took a small bite of the scrambled eggs on toast she'd been eating when he came in. "Did you sleep well?"
He started to put different things on his plate from the dishes in front of him, starting with toast and eggs, a few rashers of bacon, a breakfast sausage, and he already had a mug of coffee in front of him. "Reasonably." He bent the truth slightly because he knew if he were to tell the truth about how he had most likely seen every hour through the night, that she would make a large deal out of it.
"Would you like to tell me about the Ministry ball now?" She asked with a hint of expectancy in her voice.
The night before he had arrived at the Manor just after dinner time and had avoided all questions about the ball due to his feelings over what had happened. He'd stated he was simply too tired from the extra work load he'd dealt with that day and after sharing a cup of tea with her, he had retired to bed. "Your theme is different," he offered.
Narcissa sighed in relief. "That's a blessing," she said. "I will never live down the year where we had matching colour themes."
Draco rolled his eyes subtly at his mother's dramatics. "No one would care, mother," he said to her.
"I can name plenty of families who would."
Draco had a feeling he knew who those people would be too, and the majority of them would be in his mother's close group of friends. He really thought that she should consider them acquaintances as the only thing they truly had in common was their affinity with event planning and with that, trying to outdo each other at said events. He could not fault the women that his mother spent her time with though, as they had been her main support system after himself, following the imprisonment of Lucius. That intruding thought was enough to make Draco speak again. That morning had been too full of unwanted thoughts for his liking. "What is the plan for today?" He asked Narcissa.
"Ah-ah, not so fast," she said and gave him a small smile. "I still want to hear about the ball. You normally tell me about it. Did something happen?"
'What didn't happen', he thought to himself. "No, nothing out of the ordinary happened. It was rather dull but I figured it would be good to go."
"It was a good idea to go," Narcissa nodded. Ever since the conclusion of the war, she had been concerned about the reputation of their family and had done as much as she could to try and restore the Malfoy name. It had been difficult at first with Lucius' imprisonment and then Draco's trial. At first after his trial — with the only punishment he received being a year without his wand and paying a large amount of galleons in compensation money — he had been very unwilling to venture beyond the walls of his bedroom, much less the walls of the Manor and out into the public like his mother insisted they do. The first time she had suggested the idea of going to Diagon Alley he had protested (and rightly so in his opinion) but she badgered him about it until he yelled at her so much so that she refused to speak to him for several days. His act of forgiveness to her had been accompanying her to Diagon Alley for lunch and a wander around the shops. The day had been filled with glares sent mostly his way and some not so subtle 'whispers' when he passed, and when he'd arrived back at the Manor he spent the rest of the week in his room with the only visitor being a house elf to give him breakfast, lunch and dinner. Many months passed with him going out every so often with his mother and then retreating back to his room, forming a habit that he didn't know back then would influence him so much currently. The reason Narcissa had tried to get out of the Manor with him back then was to try and show the world that they had come out of the war as better people and were not afraid of any judgement they would receive. While most people on the streets either kept to themselves or only gave them passing looks, some witches and wizards were rather vocal and open about their dislike for him and his mother and it had taken another couple of years for that to finally stop. Their common appearances in public, Draco's job at the Ministry, and various donations after the war made most of the public come to accept them as reformed, which was what they truly were. Bringing Draco out of his thoughts was his mother asking the question that she so often asked over the last few years, "And did you take a lady along too?"
"No, I didn't," Draco said and picked up his coffee mug and took a drink.
"You should have told me, I could have arranged for someone to—"
Draco cut her off, "I didn't need a date to go with, mother. It's not an absolute essential in life, you know?" He felt slightly rude for sounding so callous but he was tired of hearing the same thing repeated over and over again that he should have a significant other.
"You're almost thirty, Draco, it's time for you to consider settling down," Narcissa said, unperturbed by his tone. He ignored the comment and started to eat the last of his breakfast. "I'm sure all of your friends are in a relationship, most of them are married. Don't you think you should be striving for that as well?"
He'd had enough of the relationship talk which he seemed to be getting badgered about left, right and centre by everyone, and he took one last bite of scrambled eggs, and a sip of coffee and stood up. "I'll be in the hall to help with the set up at noon," he said and walked out of the dining room and made his way outside, grabbing his broom on the way so he could let off some steam for a few hours with a long fly.
—
The guests began to arrive on time at seven o'clock, getting to the Manor through the floo network. Draco and Narcissa greeted them all as they entered and made their way to the 'hall' which was the biggest room in the Manor and the location of all social events Narcissa held. Draco acted as the head of the house in greeting everyone with fake smiles and an uncaring 'how do you do this evening?' and made brief small talk with a few guests that so desired a conversation. Just as he'd gotten out of a conversation with an old business associate of his fathers, Draco turned to greet the newest visitors and was glad to see a familiar face. "Theo," he said and held out his hand to his old school acquaintance. During their time at Hogwarts, the two never really spoke to each other but due to Blaise being a mutual friend, in the years following the conclusion of their schooling they both got to know each other and became friends.
"Hello," Theodore shook his hand back. "Been a while. Where have you been hiding? I don't even see you around the Ministry anymore." Theo worked in the Department of Mysteries and if Draco were to be honest, he did see Nott around the place every so often but never had the initiative to go up to him. He was fine only catching up with the bloke at events such as this.
"Work," Draco answered simply with a chuckle. "Pleasure to see you, Mrs Nott," he turned to Theo's mother who had just greeted Narcissa. He shook her hand and then directed them both to the makeshift ballroom.
"You can go see that everyone's found their way. Not many people are set to arrive now, I can handle it," Narcissa told him and Draco was eager to get away from the greetings so didn't protest in the slightest, and headed to the hall. The entire afternoon had been filled with decorating the room, with the help of the house elves, to his mother's standards and while he could use his wand for moving around chairs and tables, Narcissa preferred him to not use magic in the more finer aspects of the decorations. The room had 'turned out beautifully' according to Narcissa and even Draco had to agree. While it was much smaller than the Ministry's ball, it was every bit as extravagant and really set the scene of what was occurring. He took a glass of champagne off a tray one of the Manor's house elves was carrying around, and he wandered through the crowd, tipping his head in acknowledgement or saying a brief 'hello' if someone were to speak to him. Ever since he was a child, he had been expected to attend such events as this so he was used to the grandeur of the setting, the clothing, and the blatant attempts of many people to try and out do each other, whether it be with what they were wearing or the stories they were telling. Since his father's imprisonment, Draco also had to make conversation with many of his old business comrades and had perfected the answers he'd given in those chats over the years. While he hated being dubbed the head of the house when it came to events like this, he would always do it for his mother as he knew how much she enjoyed such things and the pride she got from it when she was complimented for weeks afterwards.
Unlike the Ministry ball, he couldn't find a quiet place to stay for the whole night, so he walked around the hall several times and stopped to talk at whoever wanted to. Draco never liked initiating the conversation, which was a bad trait his mother pulled him up for, but he had always been like that. Just one hour into the party he was sucked into a rather lengthy conversation with Barnabas Jorens who had been an old friend of Lucius' and was trying hard to get Draco to follow in his father's footsteps of becoming a businessman instead of working at the Ministry. Draco acted moderately interested in what the old man had to say, and supplied a few words here and there to keep him talking, but really didn't take in any information he was saying. It felt like too long that he was stuck in the conversation and he tried not to grimace at how the man's neck — which resembled that of a turkey's — wobbled about as he spoke. Just as Draco was about to use his well formulated white lie of 'I see my mother beckoning me over, please excuse me' to get out of the conversation, he felt a hand on his arm. When he looked at the person who the hand belonged to he cursed in his head but kept a passive expression. "Excuse me, but do you mind if I borrow Draco for the time being?" Astoria asked Barnabas sweetly.
"Of course, my dear. I've kept the poor boy for far too long," he chortled and went off in the other direction.
Draco was still staring at Astoria. He hadn't been this close to her in at least four years and he could definitely tell a difference. She looked…happier, would be the only way for him to describe it. Her lips seemed to be curled up into a small effortless smile and her eyes shone like she'd just been given the most wonderful news. He prayed the Gods she wasn't looking like that because of his presence but quickly told himself to get off his high horse. "Hello, Astoria," he greeted her. "Have you been well?" He spoke to her as formally as he would speak to other guests in the hall and she knew it. He didn't think he'd ever be able to return back to the way he used to speak to her so comfortably. He could barely speak to anyone in the same way he used to speak to Astoria years ago.
"I've been very well," she responded and looped her arm through his and started walking towards a free table and he couldn't help but envisage in his mind how he had walked with Hermione in a similar fashion during the Ministry ball. "I saw you the other night. Did you see me?"
Draco had grabbed a new flute of champagne off a passing tray and looked across the ballroom as he answered. "No, I didn't know you were attending."
"That's a shame. I was hoping we could have spoken."
Draco took a drink of his champagne as he sat opposite her and looked out at the socialising guests. "Was there a reason you needed to speak to me?"
"Could simply wanting to be a good enough reason for you?" She asked and he looked at her briefly and saw her smile. Without him answering, she laughed softly. "I thought so…" The silence was not as awkward for him as it must be for her. He was used to long pauses (initiated by him) and not speaking for minutes at a time and he found that he was only able to do that easily with Hermione unlike other people who woulds simply look concerned, frustrated or both. He'd done the same with Astoria when they'd dated and he knew she hated it and always wanted to fill the silence with some form of talking. This time however, she surprised him as she didn't say anything either and they both sat together for what seemed like a much longer time than it most likely was. "I don't know why I feel nervous telling you this…" She said with a slight smile and played with a ring on her finger.
Draco finally looked over at her, "Telling me what?" He asked. He couldn't see her fingers toying with the ring on her hand until she lifted it up and he saw exactly what it was. A diamond engagement ring on her left ring finger. For once, he was unintentionally speechless. He couldn't place what he felt, but he knew it wasn't sadness or jealousy. He remembered back to when they had dated and he'd always assumed that eventually he would have been pressured by his mother, Astoria, her mother, or all three, into proposing to her. Years ago he would never have seen this conversation — or lack thereof at the moment — occurring. He finally found his words, and said, "Congratulations," to her.
"Thank you," she said and lowered her hand back to her lap.
"Who's the lucky man?" Draco asked and he saw her smile from his question.
"His name is Daniel," she said. "He works in the apothecary in Diagon Alley, we met three years ago."
Draco couldn't think of much else to say and he picked up his champagne flute again. "When's the ceremony?" He asked and then took a drink.
She paused before answering. "Next month… I'll need to still fit into my wedding dress before the baby gets any bigger."
In an action that Draco hoped no one but Astoria had seen, he inhaled so suddenly from shock that he had to cough to try and regain his breath and get the champagne he'd breathed in, out of his lungs. Astoria leaned forward with a look of concern and he sat up in his chair to avoid her hand that was coming out to pat him on the back. "I'm fine," he said and cleared his throat once more and glanced around, glad no one was looking at him or was making it apparent they'd seen him coughing like a fool. "You're pregnant?"
"Three months tomorrow," Astoria nodded. "Draco, I didn't know you'd act thi—"
"No," he shook his head. "It's not what you're thinking. I'm just shocked is all. Congratulations again," he told her and saw her expression and gave her a tiny hint of a smile. "I'm happy for you, Astoria. Really."
"That means the world, Draco," Astoria beamed. "Would it be imprudent of me to ask for a hug?" She asked.
Who was he to deny a pregnant woman? A pregnant woman who had been his significant other for just over two years, at that. He stood up from the chair and Astoria's sheepish smile from her question turned bright and she stood before him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders while his wrapped around her waist. The position was familiar even after all these years and he could remember the happiness that had once come with it and then the tearful goodbye she'd given him at the end of their relationship after joining together for the last time, as she'd hugged him, staining his shirt with her tears, and then apparated from his house. She was quiet too and he could only guess that she was thinking of the same thing. The hug went on for a few more seconds and just as she was about to pull away, he said "You'll be a great mother," quietly in her ear and he heard a soft sniffle and her arms wrapped tighter around him.
A/N: Apologies for the amount of time it took me to upload. I found this chapter rather hard to find inspiration for and due to a hand injury and recent personal struggles, writing hasn't been that easy. Some real life issues got in the way of the last four hundred or so words, so I'm hoping that doesn't reflect too badly in the writing, but I felt like I owed it to you guys to put out a chapter even if it is shorter. The break between the next chapter may also be a bit longer but who can tell at this point. Anyway, I'll quit rambling. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!