DISCLAIMER: NOT MINE
a/n: A wild update appears! It's kinda short, but I promise you longer chapters later on. I'm kinda busy with sitting in some classes at the local uni. I don't know what possessed me to take the advanced classes. But yeah.
No one guessed the quote, which makes me kinda sad :( it was actually:
"We shared a quiet smile-our friendship-if you could call it that- was obviously awkward and flawed, but at least it was honest."
yeah. And I've been receiving less reviews. :( which kinda makes an author sad. Which kinda makes them want to stop writing. Just saying.
Chapter ten-Present
47 days.
After that weekend, it took him only 47 days to admit to himself that he was simply, deeply, unquestionably, ridiculously in love with Hermione Granger.
Forty seven days of mental torture.
One thousand one hundred and twenty eight hours of pure confusion.
Sixty seven thousand six hundred and eighty minutes of asking if he was going bonkers.
Four million sixty thousand eight hundred seconds spent on wondering if she had somehow slipped a love potion into his porridge.
Because after that weekend, everything had changed.
He no longer thought that her kindness was just a front to please their professors. He no longer thought that her antics were insane, rather, he found them quite endearing. He found that he no longer hated the very ground that she walked on. He found that he no longer thought that her blood was dirty. He found that he was starting to look at her in a way that would send generations of blood suprematists into a spasms in their graves.
That weekend marked the tipping point.
The beginning of their tragedy.
The end of his sanity.
He started to teeter between the line of absolute hate and complete devotion.
And when he finally admitted the fact to himself, forty seven days later, he was already on a nine-hundred-mile-an-hour free fall to the depths of an unfamiliar abyss.
Everything had changed.
At least, for Draco, it did.
He chuckled lightly, remembering how his protectiveness of her had increased ten fold over night, and how he waged mental wars with himself over something as simple as the thought of the possibility that he might have had fallen hook, line, and sinker for his sworn enemy.
He could still remember stalking her through lessons, trying to see where she was off to and if she was alone, he would accidentally-on-purpose bump into her. Even setting Longbottom's and Parkinson's cauldron on fire, just so he could be made partners with her in potions.
He had acted exactly like how a spoiled, manipulative, cunning slytherin would when faced with the complex absurdity of love. And it took him forty seven days to figure that the malady that he kept complaining about (lightheadedness, a propensity for blushing whenever Granger was around, sweaty palms, eyes never seeming to be able to leave her person, insomnia, and clumsiness) was actually love. And when he realized he had it, it was already too late. He was caught in its clutches and too far gone.
He didn't stand a chance.
Swiveling in his office chair, he remembered how curious it was, convincing yourself that you hate the only girl that you'd ever bothered to give a second glance (or a third, or a fourth, or a fifth, and so on until he had reached an impossible amount of glances and he was forced to just stare at the sight of her), while trying to befriend her despite the confusion, since your life depended on it.
The only plus side during those forty seven days was that his father had actually been quite pleased with him-a first in his seventeen years of living. The old snake was always delighted of his progress, but he never failed to remind Draco that his Hermione was in fact, just a mudblood. Only to be tricked and teased, but never to be regarded as an actual acquaintance.
Little did the late Malfoy patriarch know that his son's feelings for the so called 'mudblood' was already way past that of an acquaintance.
Lucius should have known what would happen.
But then again, Lucius wasn't aware of the allure that Hermione Granger held.
And of how much it had affected Draco.
Sometimes, Draco wished that he had fallen in love with a different person. Or at least, followed his ancestors' footsteps and married someone who wasn't on the top of evil wizards' most wanted list. It would get rid of about three quarters of his problems and he'd wake up to a wife and a child, instead of an empty apartment filled with equally empty bottles of whiskey and gin. He could have led a mediocre life. A life that was set for him centuries ago. An anguish-free, calm, normal life.
And then he'd remember the way that she said his name, rolling the syllables in her mouth, tone playful and yet sarcastic, eyes on fire and eyebrows raised.
He'd remember how she yelled at him, hair everywhere and cheeks flushed red. He'd remember how she'd touch him randomly, as if she was making sure that he was really there. He'd remember doing the same, not quite believing yet hoping that what they had was real. He'd remember the endless hours of peace, of quiet, when she read and when he was absorbed in memorizing every feature of her. He'd remember how much he liked it when she smiled her special smile. He'd remember how it felt like to be in love with Hermione Granger.
And he'd know.
He'd know that he didn't want mediocre. He didn't want anguish-free. He didn't want calm. He didn't want normal. Now if it meant living without the chance of ever falling in love with her. know that no matter how many chances he would be given at stopping himself from falling for his Hermione, he wouldn't change a thing.
He'd know that no matter what he made himself choose, he'd always come back to her.
Always.
Loving her wasn't something that he had held influence over. Loving her wasn't something that he could stop on a whim, and he was pretty sure that you'd first see the Earth stopping in its orbit before he could stop his feelings for her. Loving her was the only thing that he was absolutely certain of. Loving her was worth all this. It did before. It still does now. And it always will.
He swiveled again, taking in his office and letting the memories flow through. Around and around, colors blurring together as he let his memories touch him. Sometimes, on good days, life was like this-spent in the appreciation of the gift that Merlin had given him. On good days, he wouldn't feel the overwhelming sadness, or the self-blame. On good days, he allowed himself to feel.
To feel his love for her.
He took the picture of them together again, and brought it out, letting the sunlight illuminate the grainy photograph. He sighed, tracing the line of her jaw as she laughed gaily. What he wouldn't sacrifice to have her by his side again. Until they both grew old and wrinkled. Or even for just a year. Just a month. Just a week. Just a day.
He'd give anything to have her back.
Forty seven days. He'd wasted forty seven days because of his stupid pride. He could have had forty seven more days of complete bliss. Forty seven days of being able to look at her with abandon. Forty seven days of more.
By now, his spinning had stopped.
But the memories still continued.
After that weekend, she had saved him again, just the day after that weekend. This time, from getting tossed into the Great Lake by a stray bludger(idiotic hufflepuffs had been practicing for Quidditch, how they managed to lose their bludger all the way over to the Great Lake, he'll never know). She had pushed him out of the way, and put herself in direct path of the bludger. It had hit her with full force, managing to shatter her forearm and even cracking a few ribs. What was more, the impact had made her lose her balance and fall into the Lake.
That time, he had known that any self respecting Slytherin would laugh at the little muggleborn for falling into the lake. Had he been not indebted to her, or had he not harbored any feelings for her, he would have laughed his arse off. But instead, he had hexed the idiot who chortled before diving promptly into the lake. Clothes and all. It wasn't his greatest moment.
But that was the moment that the teetering of his feelings from that weekend had managed to plunge towards the positive.
And before he knew it, he was already in a nosedive, falling for her, with no means of stopping his descent.
He chuckled again, staring at his ceiling, feeling nostalgic. He was happy whenever he thought of her.
It was the feelings after that made him crumple.
And surely enough, the gnawing feeling of missing her appeared, soon to be followed by regret, remorse, anger, helplessness, sadness, depression and hopelessness. All in a parade. All stepping on his already torn up heart.
He blinked back a few tears, struggling to reign in the emotions. Before, normally, whenever he was faced with a situation like this, he would think of the Malfoy's second most revered and followed motto: "Malfoys do not show emotion", but since he had already chucked the first one out of his metaphorical window ("Mudbloods are beneath our notice and should be treated like the dirt that they are"), at seventeen, he figured that he might as well get rid of the whole rulebook. But things like that would have come in handy during situations like this.
He sighed, blinking back the tears -tears! She had turned him into a woman- he stood up and fixed his suit, making sure that it was in it's usual impeccable state. Taking his things with him, he decided that he might as well leave early, and hunt for the newest trinket that he would place on her grave.
"Paula, I'm leaving." He called out to his secretary as he stepped inside the floo, and with the whoosh of emerald green flames, he was gone.
Andy looked up from her desk. After three months of this kind of behavior, she was used to it. At first, she was sure that he was going to get sacked, but she knew now from gossiping with the interns and some of the healers that her boss practically owned the Hospital, and that he was the best in his field. He got work done too, surprisingly, because from what she could glean from his behavior, he was either staring into space, sobbing, drunk, or generally acting depressed. It was astonishing that their department was the best-run one.
No one really did tell her what was up with her handsome boss. He seemed to be the type that women chased , salivated over, and generally threw themselves at him. But she never did see him with anyone other than his usual group of friends. Others assume that he dueled for the other side, but Andy knew better.
Draco Malfoy had someone important. Some lady friend. Someone that he had apparently lost. She had seen the pictures, they were all grainy, and never fully showing her face. Her eyes, her lips, the back of her head, her silhouetted profile, but they were all of the same woman.
She pitied her boss that mostly everyone called a monster. Because in truth, she knew that he wasn't.
He was just someone who missed his love.
Really, really, missed his love.
It was sad, really.
She didn't know what she would do if she ever lost her Sarah. She felt another wave of sympathy as her office floo rang.
A head of a rather pretty woman popped out, smiling at her jovially. "Andy, wasn't it? I'm here to confirm tomorrow's lunch meeting?"
"Yes, he's up for it." She said, smiling kindly. She liked the woman. Most architects were either snobbish or plain rude, simply because their profession was so rare in the wizarding world and their colleagues were the creme de la creme of every generation.
"Good to know." The lady smiled, "Thanks, Andy. And call me Maja (Ma-huh), remember? Ma'am is so formal!"
Andy chuckled, liking her even more. Maybe her boss would stop being so depressed if he would take interest in looking at other women for once, here was Miss Maja Wilkins, perfectly beautiful. He was seriously missing out. Maybe she could schedule their meeting in a fancy restaurant or something. Who knows? They could hit it off, and she could stop fidgeting to call the wizarding suicide hotline whenever Mr. Malfoy had one of his episodes. "Alright, Miss Maja. I'll send you the location via owl later, I haven't made reservations yet, you see. Mr. Malfoy is quite picky with his meetings."
It's alright, from what I've heard of the man, he has every right to be," Maja chuckled. "I'll see you soon then, hopefully, I can't wait to be back!"
And with that, her head disappeared from the flames.
Andy immediately set to reserving a table at the most romantic restaurant in London.
Who knew, maybe someday, she'd be able to brag about arranging the great Draco Malfoy's first encounter with wife.
She couldn't help but giggle at the thought.
A/n: there now, all done :) hoped you liked it, I'llCatchYouIfYouFall, thanks for the continued support! And thanks for the review, guest.
THIS IS STILL A DMHG PAIRING. And I'm informing you now before you start hating me for introducing him to Maja! :)
review guys! I swear it's hard writing a story without knowing how it's sitting with your readers!