Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my imagination. I was inspired by another romance novel i read and J.K. Rowlings wonderful world. Enjoy! and Please leave reviews.
Chapter 49
"Wrapped so Pretty"
He stood outside the busy street just before crossing over to Blaise's apartment. The smooth cobbled pavement was busting with movement. A wizard ran past in a rush and boarded the Night Bus just before it blasted its way into a new route.
A group of huddled apartment homes lined one side of the street. Zabini's was marked 301 upon the door. Draco knocked.
Depression had settled on him as thick as the dark night. Part of the reason his depression slide up beside him was due to the fact that his oldest and best mate in the entire world had just answered the door looking a lot more cheerful than a man who'd given up Quidditch should ever look. A copper-tone and blonde baby girl, who showed every signed of her father was snuggled in the crook of her father's arm, occupying the same space that a Quaffle should be.
It occurred to him after spending only a few minutes in the couple's company, that the only time this miniaturized little heart-breaker wasn't glued to her father's arm, was when she was nursing from her mother.
Draco took notice of the boxes and crates in the next room.
"Well, with the baby and everything, we decided we wanted more room. Plus mate, I got a job, and a right bloody good one at that."
To his disbelief Zabini told him of their new careers as a Hogwarts professor. That he, Zabini Blaise, would be replacing Hogwarts former flight instructor, Madame Hooch.
"And that's not all mate, I'll be assistant coach for our old Slytherin team. Me! Ha! Don't that beat all."
Draco simply couldn't hide his frustration, but he was happy for his friend and his new wife. Draco also had to admit that he liked Maria a lot, even though she wasn't the type of woman anyone would ever figure a legend Quidditch star like Blaise to marry. It's not that she wasn't pretty enough, it was just that she was —well. . . sweet, kissably cute, nice and very straightforward with her conversations. Draco knew that much, which is why she and Hermione hit it off so well on their last dinner date. And not only that, he knew that Maria genuinely cared about people, and would make a great addition to the school's staff. In some ways she was sort of like Hermione, although she didn't have his wife's strange habit of fading out in the middle of a conversation to ponder some magical theoretical thought, that only she and a dozen other people on the planet could possibly understand.
Watching the three of them move about their home together, talking and sharing their plans. It forced Draco to take a delicate look at his own future.
"Maria, the baby and I really had the time of our lives when we stayed on the grounds last week. It really brought back some good memories," Zabini flashed a grin at Draco "and some bad ones too." he added. He smiled when Maria came to take the baby from his arms, she was beginning to cry for her nightly feeding. Maria gave her husband a kiss before passing between them and leaving them to their conversation. Draco decided that Zabini was one lucky son of a gun, and that he could take a few lessons from him when it came to looking like a super-star. "Maria was heart-broken to see that a good portion of the school was still under construction. A good bit of it was done in by dark magic you know that, and the giants really did a number on the rear end of the place. They've been working on rebuilding it though. Nothing like used bricks for beauty, but it's a real job trying to salvage what you can. Most of it is usually new material though."
Blaise, or should he say Professor Zabini went on about bricks and of wide-plank floorings that were being reinstalled for a new wing to the first year's. He spoke of cedar and mortar mixtures as if they were the most important things in the world next to his marriage. Maria return their daughter to her father, and the baby nestled playfully back into the crook of his arms sucking on her fists and making tiny gurbily sounds to her dad.
Draco felt as if he were suffocating to death literally. And he wanted to pass out; just two hours ago he learned that his best-mate, his all time favorite quidditch buddy and former slytherin-pal was turning in his number. He was standing here overhearing a conversation he was having with his wife about breastfeeding! Blaise Zabini, who'd never taken anything but the game seriously, was acting as if it really matter how many vegetables his wife had during supper. Talking about the baby's diet as if it was the most important topic of the hour!
Even now, the memory of the friend he was losing made him break into a cold sweat.
All this time Draco thought that Zabini was like him, just putting off some time until the new season started. Pretending everything beyond Quidditch in his life was wonderful, but now he knew Zabini believed it, lived it. He didn't seem to realize anything was wrong with this whole episode. The fact that a man who could easily go down with his very own section in a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, was giving it all up and selling it short for a the life of a simple wizard, who would soon center his world around a wife, a baby, some crumbled stones and a few remodeled wide-planked floors. It was horrifying!
Never in a million years would Draco have thought that a Slytherin as smart as Blaise could have forgotten who he was, but that's exactly what happened.
To his relief a house elf showed up with their tea. Maria came up and handed a steaming cup to him and her husband. Just before she walked away, Draco saw the look of utter contentment on his face as he gazed down into her eyes, and it felt like a kick had been delivered to his very own stomach.
He finished off his tea, and tried to remember if he had ever looked at Hermione that way. And the thing that made his blood bubble, was the truth that he had.
Their sex, had no words to describe it intensity, and his uncontrollable desire to have her every hour of the each day had been really turning him out lately.
Who knew what kind of goofy expression he had on his face whenever he was near her. If only he hadn't let his guard down, if only he hadn't admitted how much he loved her. Why did she have to feel so good all the time. Why did she have to whisper those things when they made love. Sometimes, when he won the sound of his name from her lips, he felt like a king, amazing, and like a lord among lions! There's something extremely satisfying about winning the pleading cries of a woman as smart and as haughty as Hermione. But that silly school-boy fantasy had vanished the moment he entered Blaise's front door.
Zabini might be happy with all this marital permanency crap, but Draco now knew he couldn't ever live with it. There's was nothing waiting for him on the other side of not playing Quidditch. He'd end up like his father, holding some miserable seat on the Ministry's board, donating to unwanted charities and foundations you didn't truly give a damn about. He didn't want to end up like his father, with no honest work he truly loved. Could he ever be happy, picking up things where Lucius left them; with nothing heroic enough that would let him hold up his head like a wizard should, with his name stetched into someone's book of fame.
And with that thought, he admitted to himself, it frighten him more than anything.
Draco said his good byes and left without finishing his tea. He walked along the dark roads for some time, passing closed window shops. He wasn't very familiar with the streets here, as he walked passed a cauldron store and he pushed his hand deep into his pockets.
How could a wizard be anyone important if he had nothing to truly give to their world? Blaise, had found his path, but Draco knew he didn't have his friends talent for coaching. And as far a building skills! Draco had always had everything handed to him. His dad's talent was making money multiple, and their money had always substituted for anything his hands or wand couldn't do. The Malfoy's were one of the wealthiest wizarding families alive today, in fact, all they had to do was pretty much sit around and let it build up interest.
Other than a shit load of accounts and a row of vaults waiting for him at Gringotts, Draco didn't have anything extraordinary waiting for him beyond the field and those three, high goal rings.
All the other side held for him was. . . . nothing. No, it also held Hermione. He knew she was no longer thinking about the short term of their arrangement. She was thinking about growing wisteria's along the walls of their home and of monogrammed baby blankets, and what school their daughter should go to. But he wasn't sure he was as ready for that life anymore. He didn't know how he would tell her, but it had to be done and soon. Next thing, she'd be picking out his clothes for him. He looked at his reflection as he passed a window shop. He wore the champagne toned shirt, tan trousers and sports coat she had laid out for him.
He thought he looked just like a muggle, inch for inch.