Disclaimer: So… the second to the last chapter, huh? We've come a looooong way, dear readers, and I think I've already established the fact that I am WickedlyAwesomeMe and not J.K. Rowling :D Simply put, the Harry Potter series and its characters are not mine. Everything, even Draco Malfoy *sob* is not mine, okay? Oh, but I own the plot. Try to plagiarize it and you'll be the receiving end of my wrath… *wink* *wink*
A/N: So, like what I've said in my disclaimer, it's the second to the last chapter of "Only a Pretense". My god, it's really ending now, huh? And once I was merely making an outline of the whole story T_T Gah, I'm feeling really sad now :(
ANYWAY, I must cut the crap first so that you could read and then review chapter forty-one of "Only a Pretense". ENJOY, por favor :D
Chapter Forty-One: Unspoken Promise of Forever
"Scared, Ronald?" Hermione asked innocently, a wide smirk glued on her face as she hovered a few feet away from the Slytherin goal posts, Quaffle in hand.
The Gryffindor Keeper narrowed his eyes, glaring impertinently at his best friend, her green robes billowing wildly behind her back. "Never," he spat.
The brunette's smirk widened as she pulled back her hand, eyes trained intently on the middle post. Ron, seeing her train of vision immediately guarded the highest goal post. And then, to his immense horror, Hermione threw the Quaffle somewhere on her right. Blaise, who was waiting a few feet away from her, caught the red ball and before Ron could even spell out 'Gryffindor', the Italian had thrown the Quaffle towards the right goal post, and scored.
"Zabini scores!" Seamus Finnigan exclaimed from his commentator box, his famous Irish accent ringing loudly around the Quidditch Pitch, the Slytherin students bursting into wild cheering. "300-250, in favor of Slytherin. Come on, Weasley, where's your Quidditch prowess? Don't let those bast – ."
"Mister Finnigan!" Professor McGonagall cried indignantly on her seat.
" – ah – Slytherins, beat you!" the Gryffindor commented, directing a cheeky smile to the affronted Gryffindor Head of House.
Hermione chuckled under her breath and caught Blaise's eyes. "Nice throw," the Italian had commented.
"Nice shot," the brunette added, offering him a smile of her own. Blaise gave her his infamous charming smile and zoomed away from her, guarding Ginny, one of the Gryffindor Chasers.
She forlornly smiled at his dotted figure. Something did change between them after Blaise's confession and her rejection. He seemed a little… distant. But then, Hermione had anticipated it. After all, she broke his heart – the first girl he had ever liked had broken his heart. But Hermione was still glad that they were talking, albeit a little guarded. Despite his outwardly guarded words, it was obvious that he wasn't mad at her at all.
With a sigh, she continued to zoom around the Quidditch Pitch, eyes trained intently on the Quaffle.
It was the much-anticipated final game between the Slytherin and Gryffindor Houses. It had surprised Hermione when the Slytherin Quidditch team still offered her the position of the Slytherin Chaser, despite moving out of their common room and back to the Gryffindor House. At first, she was reluctant, thinking it was forbidden. But once they showed her a signed permission from Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape… Snape, she finally agreed. Thus, after gulping a few amount of Calming Draught, here she was again, hovering fifty feet off the sandy ground.
Looking around, she caught sight of Draco's unmistakable blond hair, and tried to suppress the silly grin fighting its way on her face. One thing that was good on the day she rejected Blaise was the discovery that Draco Malfoy, the one and only, had loved her ever since they were eleven-years-old. It was shocking, of course, seeing that he had a weird way of showing it (what with all the insults and hexes and more insults). But then, deep down her feminine heart, she was beyond ecstatic. Hey, she fancied him, too!
"Oi, Granger, focus!" the Slytherin Captain hollered, glaring at Hermione's direction. The silly grin on her face completely disappeared, morphing into a small frown. Why did she fancy him again?
"Just go mind the snitch, Draco," she shot back, pointedly looking at him. "You're fighting off my best friend, Harry Potter? Does that ring a bell? Bespectacled, thunder-bolt scar, defeater of Voldemort - ."
" – suffocating ego and sickening bravery?" he continued, a smirk fighting its way on his lips.
She rolled her eyes and immaturely stuck out her tongue. "He'd defeated you countless times before." That had wiped off the smirk on his face. "Better focus now, Draco, right?"
"Bloody nuisance," he muttered under his breath and flew away from her, keeping a stern eye at Harry and at the same time looking all over the pitch to look for the Golden Snitch. Chuckling, Hermione went back to her own place and caught the Quaffle thrown to her by Blaise.
That day, Slytherin had won against Gryffindor, something that had made history since Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup for six years, consecutively. The whole Slytherin House had rejoiced, headed by their smug Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Draco Malfoy, and had an all-out victory party in their common room.
Hermione was invited, of course, since she was part of the team, despite being a Gryffindor. She had politely declined at first, seeing that NEWTs would start first thing in the morning tomorrow and she still hadn't reviewed properly (which was ridiculous because she was Hermione Granger and she had been preparing for NEWTs ever since last year). But after some persuasion from Draco and Blaise, she stayed.
"Having fun?" Blaise suddenly asked, sidling up beside her and plopping down on one of the plush couches in the common room.
The brunette sighed and smiled. "Yeah, well… it's a nice break," she said. "But… I really need to study now, you know. No, scratch that, all of you really need to study now."
"Didn't I tell you you're overworking yourself?" Blaise asked, wagging a finger in front of her face. "Live a little, Hermione. It won't hurt." He placed his bottle of butterbeer down on the coffee table and chuckled. "And besides, you're Hermione Granger. All of the seventh years are expecting you to have perfect scores in all of your NEWTs."
She blushed, humbled. "Blaise, really," she said, absentmindedly rubbing her red cheeks. Although, she couldn't help the smile that stretched widely on her face.
He was smiling widely but then, Hermione noticed that it faltered, his eyes gazed intently on something or someone behind her back. "Here comes the most triumphant of them all," he said, slowly standing up from his seat.
"What are you – Oh," she stated, her neck craned to gaze at the striding blond, flashing an extremely wide smirk than before. When Hermione looked back at Blaise, he was looking at her pointedly. "Blaise…"
The Italian chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "I have to go, anyway," he said, brushing off invisible lint from his jumper. And then, with a twinkle in his eyes, he murmured, "Remember to do the favor I've asked you to do." And with that, Blaise strode away from the couch, leaving a confused Hermione in his wake.
"Where's Blaise going?" Draco asked, plopping down on the seat beside Hermione. He took a huge gulp from his butterbeer before placing it on the coffee table, satisfied.
Hermione rolled her eyes at his ridiculous behavior. "He's going to do something," she said, doubting him. "I guess."
Draco released a noncommittal sound and leaned back his head against the backrest. "Ah, the taste of victory," he murmured, his infamous Malfoy smirk once again spreading on his face. He shifted his head slightly just so he could properly look her in the eye. "I bet Potter and Weasley's whining now, eh?"
She gave him a playful shove, softly chuckling. "They've lost already, you git," she scolded. "The least you can do is to respect their…" She blinked, at loss of what to say, "… feelings."
He made a show of snorting loudly, pushing his head away from the headrest and grabbing his butterbeer once again. "Right, feelings," he said wryly, chugging down the last vestiges of his butterbeer. Hermione mimicked his action and grabbed her own bottle of butterbeer, meekly downing its contents.
"That isn't firewhiskey, yes?" he said, eyeing her bottle warily.
The brunette slightly blushed, remembering that eventful night that started it all. "If you don't stop acting like a prat, I might as well grab one and make sure to be beside you all the time," she threatened, although smiled when Draco merely chuckled.
"Empty threats will lead you nowhere, nuisance," he said, eyes slightly shining in humor. "And besides, if ever you will spew all over me once again, I'll make sure there are passing first years nearby to act as my shield."
Her nose scrunched up, disgusted with his attitude. "You do realize you're being a cad, right?" she lightly asked, glaring up at him.
He shrugged. "I get that all the time, Granger," he said. "I, Draco Malfoy, am a cad." He waved a dismissive hand. "I know that."
She snorted unbecomingly and shook her head. "You're… incorrigible," she thought, a small smile quirking on her lips. To her surprise, he shot back an almost-smile that still showed his adorable dimple. Hermione immediately looked away, slightly flushed.
"Incorrigible, indeed," he said, oblivious to her sudden change of demeanor. Draco shifted slightly on the couch, a faraway look on his face before saying, "Do you think Teddy will be proud?"
Astonished, her face snapped back into his direction. A forlorn smile tugged its way onto his lips and she looked down at her hands, feeling suddenly melancholy herself. "Of course he will be," she assured him. "Slytherin finally won the Quidditch Cup from the Gryffindors."
He absentmindedly nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I think," he started, "that it will be better if he's here, celebrating with us."
Hermione sighed, hugging herself. "Yeah," she answered back, almost breathlessly. The brunette did wonder how Teddy would react with all the things that had happened now, not only their victory over the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Hermione'd bet that he would be ecstatic if he heard that Harry Potter won over Voldemort, making everything safe for the Wizarding World. He'd be undoubtedly happy to hear that his sister was finally safe from the dark, free from a monstrous being that had hovered around their family for ages.
Speaking of Annie, Hermione had officially met her a few days after the victory of the Light Side. Her heart had painfully clenched upon seeing the ten-year-old girl, thinking that she looked uncannily like her big brother, what with all the black-haired, blue-eyed glory a Nott possessed.
Hermione had unceremoniously cried that day, the guilt that had long mellowed into yearning came back full force. And Annie Nott, bless her soul, had merely hugged her that day and told her again and again that she did not blame Hermione for the death of her big brother.
"I actually want to thank you," she had said, running a hand through Hermione's brown tresses for comfort. "Because before, Teddy is a very selfish person. But because of you, he changed. He'd been selfless that day and only thought of you, not minding his own safety."
And then, Annie had said something that made Hermione heartily chuckle, despite the tears that ran down from her face. "You know, Teddy fancied you," the little girl said, grinning widely albeit her own tears running down from her gorgeous eyes. "He couldn't stop talking about you during Christmas break."
A small, wistful smile appeared on her face, reminiscing that very day.
"Oi," Draco said, slightly bumping his shoulder against hers. Hermione snapped out of her musings and looked up at him, slightly dazed. "You just zoned out."
Chuckling, she waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, I'm sorry," she said. "Just thinking of a lot of things." She then carefully placed her empty butterbeer bottle on top of the table and stood up, rubbing a tired eye in the process. "I'm going to call it a night." A wide yawn escaped from her lips. "I still have some studying to do."
"It's still early, Granger," he pointed out, also standing from the couch. Hermione warmly smiled when a small pout graced his handsome features. "You're always welcome in our room, you know."
"And be a witness of your perverseness? No thanks," she bit back, chuckling when he scowled. Just then, Hermione caught glimpse of Blaise from afar, having a deep conversation with Ivan Raft, one of the Beaters of the Quidditch team.
"Can you give me a favor and knock some sense into Draco?"
Grinning, she did do Blaise's request. 'That's for being a bloody coward and hiding your true feelings for seven years, Draco Malfoy,' she thought, seeing the astonished look on his face. "Whoops… my hand slipped. Maybe I'm getting a bit loopy because of the butterbeer."
"Granger…" he growled threatening, massaging his smarting head.
Laughing, she flicked his nose with her fingers and spun around. "'Til we meet again, Draco Malfoy," was her farewell before completely walking out of the Slytherin common room, all thoughts of studying and warm comforters in mind.
Too bad, she was not able to see a widely grinning Draco Malfoy, absentmindedly rubbing his tingly nose.
They say that every pleasure has its corresponding pain. And the Slytherin seventh years of Hogwarts had firmly believed that. Gone was the euphoria of winning the Quidditch Cup as soon as they were all directed to the Great Hall, taking their very first written test, Transfiguration.
The NEWTs were divided into two categories: written and practical. Four days were dedicated for the final tests of the seventh years. For the first day, written tests for Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Muggle Studies, and Astronomy would be taken up. For those who had taken Arithmancy for their advanced classes (like Hermione), they would also take their test for that subject. For the next day, the practical exams for all six subjects would be done in respective classrooms. On the third day, the seventh years were to take the written exams for Potions, Care for Magical Creatures, Divination (optional), History of Magic, and Herbology. For those who had taken Ancient Runes for their advanced class (ahem, Hermione), it would also be taken. And lastly, for the fourth day, the practical tests for all six subjects would be endured by the exhausted seventh years.
"Oh god, my head is killing me," Ron had moaned as soon as they walked out of the Greenhouse 3, where the Herbology practical test for the Gryffindors had taken place.
"At least you are done with your NEWTs," Hermione pointed out, which prompted the redhead to smile.
Harry, chuckling beside Hermione, swung an arm over her shoulder. "You have Ancient Runes after ten minutes," The-Boy-Who-Lived said, "and it's all your bloody fault for thinking that you're some Wonder Woman and taking all the advance subjects in the school curriculum."
The brunette shrugged off his arm and rounded at them, eyes narrowed into thin slits. "Because I want to secure my future," she stated matter-of-factly. Her eyes grew narrower and she slightly frowned. "I have a proposition to make. If I scored higher in Defense Against the Dark Arts, you guys will treat me to this fancy restaurant that had recently opened in Diagon Alley," she said.
Ron's jaw dropped. "But their menu's expensive!" he cried.
"And that's not fair, Hermione," Harry added with a whine. "We all know you'll pass with flying colors on your NEWTs."
"Both of you want to be an Auror," she pointed out. "And the first thing that they look at is your score in Defense Against the Dark Arts. If I scored higher, you treat me. If at least one of you is higher than me, or has the same score with mine, then I'll both treat you to that fancy restaurant." Her eyes dangerously flashed. "Do we have a deal?"
Ron scowled while Harry disbelieving chuckled. Judging from Hermione's expression, she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
"Fine," the bespectacled young man said, which prompted Ron to exclaim a loud, "HARRY!"
Hermione's stern look morphed into a sweet smile. "Well then, that's settled," she said. "Now, if you both will excuse me, I have Ancient Runes to take."
With that, she bounded off to the Ancient Runes classroom, recalling all the things she had learned and studied in the process.
Ron rounded at Harry and scowled. "Can you believe that bloody woman?" he cried. "She's starting to act like a… a Slytherin! Merlin!"
Harry laughed and ruffled his raven hair. "Yeah, well, she'd lived with them for ten months," he said. "We shouldn't be surprised now, you know."
The redhead sighed at a passing Slytherin. "Bloody Malfoy and Zabini," he murmured darkly under his breath. "Bad influences to our Hermione."
"Damn straight, mate," Harry said, vigorously nodding his head. His hand then shot up to his stomach and rubbed it. "Now, do you fancy a snack? I'm famished."
All thoughts of murdering Draco and Blaise in the most imaginative way flew out of Ron's mind as soon as he heard the word 'snack'. "Blimey, I'm starved, too!" he cried, swinging an arm over Harry's shoulder. "I swear, watching those Venus Flytraps eating those flies had made me all the hungrier."
"Oh, Ron, really," Harry said, nose scrunched up in disgust. And together, the two went off to the kitchens.
Once she finally walked out of the Great Hall, Hermione Granger released a huge sigh of relief.
She could distinctively hear the buzzing of merry laughter and boisterous shouts from her seventh year classmates.
A small smile appeared on her face as she carefully trudged towards the Forbidden Forest, planning to visit her fake grave.
Today was the last day of their seventh year and although Hermione should be rejoicing, since NEWTs and classes were finished already, a budding sadness washed over her form and she had to try her hardest to suppress her tears, watching her classmates hugging each other, assuring them that even though they'd be separating ways, they'd still keep in touch. She was a witness in a heartfelt kiss from Harry and Ginny, the latter invited due to the fact that her boyfriend was finally graduating. Ginny had tears in her eyes as she asked (more of demanded) Harry to send her an owl every single day and if she were to see in the Daily Prophet that he'd been holding the hand of another girl, she'd storm out of Hogwarts and have his head.
"I love you too much to do that, Gin," was his sweet reply before giving her a kiss on her forehead. Ginny had turned the waterworks on and Harry, laughing boyishly, excused the both of them and probably ran off to Merlin-knows-where.
Chuckling, Hermione shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. Her hand bumped against the butterfly hairclip on her hair and smiled. She fondly patted it before letting her hand fall limply back to her side.
The smile completely wiped off from her face when she suddenly tripped, her right heel getting caught up with a large rock. Softly cursing under her breath, she brandished her wand and magicked her shoes to be more comfortable.
Hermione was currently wearing a semi-formal dress, a green, cocktail one, to be precise. After their graduation and receiving their diploma from their beloved Headmaster, the Great Hall was transfigured to a huge dance hall, celebrating the Graduation Ball of the seventh years. And of course, as required, they were to wear something fancy.
"Bloody dances," she muttered under her breath, dodging a low-hanging branch in the forest. Ever since, she had hated formal dances. Except for the Yule Ball. The looks on her schoolmates' faces when she appeared, all dolled up and in the arms of the famous Viktor Krum, were too priceless for her to dislike it.
Grinning, she hopped over a protruding root on the ground and resumed her journey.
It was truly sad for Hermione, knowing that after this day, she would not be able to go back to Hogwarts anymore. She was offered a position by Minerva McGonagall as a Transfiguration professor-in-training. Hermione, of course, was thrilled since she had always loved Transfiguration. But she politely declined, stating that although she did love studying and Hogwarts, being a professor was not her dream job.
To be a Healer, that was what she wanted to be. Hermione had already filed an application form to St. Mungo's and she had received their response just yesterday.
… we are willing to accept such a remarkable witch like you, Miss Granger…
She couldn't suppress the grin that formed on her face. She had always thought that healing people was fascinating. Although, she knew that not all maladies could be healed, she still thought that being a Healer was an honorable job. Especially if she was the reason for the sudden burst of hope in the hearts of the loved ones of the afflicted. Her parents had been dentists, doctors of the teeth, and somehow, they had influenced her.
Thus, once she received the response from the hospital, she wrote a quick reply of 'thank you' and then got a clean piece of parchment to write to her parents about her acceptance in her dream job.
Speaking of her parents, they were quite well already. In fact, they were currently in the Great Hall, talking to an exuberant Mr. Weasley about this so-called Muggle contraption, cell phones.
They had been discharged from the magical hospital three days ago. According to the healer that had handled their case, Healer Warwick, any traces of the dark curse bestowed upon them by the late dark lord were completely gone. They would have lapses, like nightmares and all, but they would be nothing they could not handle. Hermione was there when her parents were released and she welcomed them back to the real world with a loving embrace.
Hermione had finally spotted her fake grave and Teddy's but it wasn't vacant. Blinking, she briskly approached the two tombstones only to see Draco Malfoy standing in front of Teddy's grave, his hands deep in his front pockets.
"Draco?" she asked, announcing her presence. The blond whipped his head around, eyes landing on her form. "What are you doing here?"
He smirked. "If I didn't know you better, nuisance, I'd say you're stalking me," he proclaimed haughtily.
Hermione's jaw dropped, affronted, and screamed an indignant, "I do not!"
"Easy there," he chuckled, cracking a small smile. "I'm just toying with you."
She harrumphed and walked towards him, making it a point to leave a few meters in between them. "You haven't answered my question," she pointed out.
A soft hum. "A question?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and looked up at him. "What are you doing here?" she repeated.
Draco gave a casual shrug, running a hand through his perfectly gelled hair. "I just want to be away from the crowd," he said, making a face. "Merlin, I can't stand the bloody hugs and 'I miss yous' sent by each and everyone in that room. If I were to stay there longer, I'd puke."
"It's the end of our Hogwarts years," she stated. "It's normal to be emotional on this very last day."
He gave her a sideways glance, a frown marring his handsome face. "So, what are you doing here?" he asked, throwing back her question to her. "Got tired of Potty and Weasel's constant whining?"
She gave him a pointed look. "They have a name, you know," she said, slightly bristling in annoyance.
"Yeah, well, they call me 'ferret'," he shot back.
A wry smile appeared on her face. "Touché," she retorted.
He smirked and looked down on Teddy's grave. "So what are you doing here?" he asked yet again. "You're the star of the night. Being the valedictorian and all."
"Says the salutatorian," she shot back, grinning. Her chest couldn't help but puff out in pride, knowing that she was the first honor for the school-year (which wasn't surprising, really) and that one of her best friends landed on the position as the second honor. A sigh escaped from her lips and she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "Well… I came out from the Great Hall because…" She paused, frowning thoughtfully. "I don't know. I guess I just want some… time alone."
"You want me to go?" he asked, eyebrows hidden behind his fringes.
She shook her head. "Nah, and just tire your Majesty?" she shot back cattily. Upon seeing his roll of eyes, she laughed.
Both reverted to a comfortable silence, busy with their own trail of thoughts. It was Hermione who broke it moments after.
"Mrs. Malfoy sent me a letter two days ago," she quipped, looking at him to gauge his reaction. "She's inviting me next week for your official declaration as the Head of the Malfoy family."
He scowled, looking none-too-pleased. "Yeah, I knew that," he said, sighing through his nose. "Mother had written your name first on the list of the guests. Even before Blaise, which she had known for ages."
She grinned at the information. "Your mother's very kind," Hermione said. "She'd visited me a few weeks ago."
Draco grimaced, remembering that day. "Yeah, she told me," he answered back. 'More of like gushed out how gorgeous you are like a silly, little fan girl.' Though, he couldn't blame his mother. Hermione Granger was one, stunning girl. One proof would be now, her being adorned by a dress that had flattered every imaginable curve on her body.
Blushing, he looked away.
"How's all your Malfoy business?" Hermione said. "Last time I asked Blaise, he said you had a lot of signing to do."
He released a huge sigh, his shoulders sagging in blatant exhaustion. "Hectic," he said, remembering that he had to run along two hours from now since he had to meet his family's lawyer and all. "I haven't slept properly for the last four days."
Hermione made a face. "That busy?"
"Yeah."
She scoffed and crossed her arms. "You filthy rich people need to go through a lot of processes just to pass your possessions to your heir," she mumbled in frustration. "Why can't you just donate them to some institutions or something?"
"I'm Draco Malfoy, remember?" he asked. "A Malfoy. We Malfoy's are bloody selfish. And besides, dear daddy and my other ancestors would rise up from their graves, team up, and barge into my room to eat my brain if they discovered that I carelessly 'threw' away their pride and joy."
A shiver ran down from her spine, conjuring a mental image. "That's disgusting, Draco," she said.
He merely shrugged. "So… what's the Golden Girl going to do after graduation?" he asked.
"Golden Girl?" she asked, blinking in disbelief.
"They dubbed you as one," he said. "The Daily Prophet."
She snorted. "Right, the Daily Prophet," she snapped sarcastically. She had always hated that newspaper, what with all their rubbish news and propaganda. "If you must know, I've been accepted in St. Mungo's as a Healer-in-training. I'd be starting two weeks from now."
"A Healer?" he asked, surprised. "You wanted to be a Healer? I thought you couldn't stand the smell of the Disinfecting Charms in St. Mungo's?"
Hermione grimaced. "Yeah, a minor setback," she murmured. "But, I can get used to it. I mean, Healers got used to them."
Draco frowned at her answer. "I always thought you'd wanted to be an Auror, or a teacher…" A smirk appeared on his face. "… or a librarian. That job will certainly suit you. Madam Pince is really getting really old now, don't you think?"
"Oh, shut it," she said, although a small smile appeared on her face. "I dunno. I recently came into a conclusion that I want to be a Healer. Specifically after the war."
"Oh, right," Draco said. "Saving people's lives. You know, I suggest that you minimize your time around Potter. Or better yet, quit hanging around him. I think it's not only his 'survivor's guilt' germs rubbing off of you but also his 'hero complex' virus."
"Can you stop insulting my friends now?" she asked, nostrils flaring. "I make it a point everyday that they won't insult you and Blaise, too, you know."
He just shrugged nonchalantly. "Old habits die hard," he said. "Rivalries die hard."
She shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Boys and their bloody egos," she murmured under her breath.
"Oi, I heard that!"
"Because you're supposed to," the brunette sing-songed, grinning cheekily.
Draco sneered. "Spending too much time with either me or Blaise sure screwed up your brain," he pointed out. "You're acting more and more like a Slytherin everyday."
Hermione chuckled, not offended at all. "Ginny and Ron exactly said the same thing to me," she said, shaking her head. "Am I really?"
He scrutinized her for a while before nodding his head. "Yeah," he answered. Absentmindedly, he brandished his wand and twirled it in his fingers. "Granger?"
"Yeah?"
"Your parents owled me a week ago," he stated.
Hermione rounded at him, her eyes wide as saucers. "They did?" she gasped out, astonished beyond comprehension. "What? Why?"
He smiled, recalling the contents of the letter. "A thank you letter," he said. "For helping in rescuing them…" He gave her a sideways glance. "For taking care of their daughter…" He paused and cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks inflaming again. "They asked me to drop by this weekend in your house. Blaise received the same invitation, just so you know."
The brunette knitted her eyebrows, surprised with her parents. "And what did you say?" she asked carefully, trying to gauge his reaction through his face. A huge part of her guessed the two had declined, or maybe only Draco had declined. Her parents were Muggles and although they were not the same bigoted children than before, they still had… issues.
"Well," he said, shrugging slightly, "I said 'yes'. So did Blaise. I mean, what's the harm?" His voice faltered, seeing how her eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. A frown graced his features and he asked, "You don't want us to go to your house?"
Hermione snapped out of her stupor and vigorously shook her head, managing to slightly tousle her perfectly fixed hair. "No, no," she interjected. "It's just that I'm… surprised. That's all."
He quirked up a smirk, a knowing look on his face. "You thought we'd say 'no', yeah?" he asked. He chuckled when she sheepishly smiled. "I thought so."
"Well, can you blame me?" she asked, smiling up at him.
He was thoughtful for a full minute before shaking his head. "No," he said, offering a small smile of his own. "I can't." He heaved a huge sigh before chancing a glance on his watch. "I think it's best if you go back. The Graduation Ball will end any minute now. One of your clingy friends are probably wondering where you've wandered off."
"They're not clingy!" she shot back, although she couldn't help but to grin widely in agreement. "Just… just missing me."
"Yeah, keep telling that to yourself," he said, chuckling. He pensively tapped his wand against his palm, eyebrows drawn together.
Her grin turned into a sincere smile, regarding him with fondness in her eyes. "I'll be going now," she said.
He nodded, a strange look suddenly settling in his eyes. "Yeah," he said.
Hermione nodded her head for her farewell and swiveled around, already taking small steps back to the castle.
"GRANGER!" he bellowed.
The brunette jolted in surprise and turned around, eyes wide as she stared at him with question in her eyes.
"I…" he blurted out. His cheeks turned a vivid shade of red, greatly contrasting against his pale complexion. "I'll be leaving England for eight months."
Her smile froze before completely disappearing. She willed her wide eyes to revert back to their right size as she clenched her hands into fists, restraining their tremor.
Pain stabbed mercilessly in her heart.
"Really?" she asked, averting her eyes away from him.
He nodded his head. "I'll be in the United States," he elaborated. "Studying our family business and all."
She gulped down a lump slowly forming in her throat. "N-no breaks?" she squeaked out, clearing her throat.
This time, he shook his head. "Can't afford to have a break," he said. "It's a huge business. Having no CEO for a week leads to loads of problems." He paused, catching her gaze. "I'll be leaving two weeks from now."
"Already?"
He nodded.
"How about Narcissa?" she asked.
He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "She'll come with me," he answered. "I think a trip outside the country will do her some good."
Hermione hummed for her reply, at loss for words.
"I guess I won't be seeing you for… a while," he carefully said, watching her at the corner of his eyes.
She blanched and only nodded.
The brunette thought she was being ridiculous. He would only leave for eight months.
'Without breaks,' a voice inside her head quipped. 'Meaning, he won't be able to come back to England for a while.'
Misery gripped her heart and she took a soft, shaky breath. "I…" she said. "I think I should go now…"
He nodded, looking at her with an indistinguishable look in his eyes. "You go on first," he said. "I still have something to do." He looked at her fake grave meaningfully, which Hermione had caught. A small smile appeared on her face upon noticing that there was no tulip on top of her tombstone, yet.
"Okay," she said. She hesitated then, "I'll see you sometime, Draco."
"You, too…" he paused, "Hermione."
She smiled, nodded her head, and then swiveled around, meaning to march off outside the Forbidden Forest without a glance back.
But just then, some unfathomable force had completely stopped her in her tracks, her head whipping around sharply, desperation clearly etched on her face. She had no idea what had possessed her to say such cheeky words to Draco Malfoy. Perhaps it was the pent-up feelings she had for him, waiting to burst out from her system. Or maybe, it was the knowledge that he would be gone for a while, and pain was ruthlessly stabbing her heart, telling her that he would be gone and once he came back, there would probably be some dumb bimbo clinging onto his arm.
"What's this I heard, Malfoy?" she bit back, watching him as he readied to produce a tulip on his hand. "You love me?"
Eerie silence rang loudly in the forest. And the next thing she knew, a carnivorous plant was sitting on Draco Malfoy's hand. A horrified gasp escaped from Hermione's lips as she pulled out her wand, vanishing off the plant before it could completely rip off the hand of a stunned Draco.
She could feel laughter pushing its way out of her throat and she allowed it. Her boisterous laughter rang loudly in the whole forest, bent over as she clutched her already aching stomach. "M-Merlin!" she gasped in between chuckles.
"You did that on purpose!" Draco roared, turning around her, his cheeks the darkest shade of red Hermione had ever seen. "It… it almost ate my hand!"
A new bout of laughter escaped from Hermione's lips and the blond merely scowled, albeit the maroon cheeks, and frustratingly conjured a tulip and gently placed it on top of her grave.
"Oh, Draco," she said, calming down. She brushed off a few tears from her eyes and strode towards her tombstone, bending down to grasp the flower. "That was hilarious."
His scowl darkened. "Fuck off, Granger."
"Ooh, somebody's angry."
He glared at the tulip in her hand. "What are you doing?" he snarled. "Put that back on the tombstone."
She innocently smiled whilst charming the flower everlasting, pocketing it in the process. Draco watched her actions in confusion, before realization dawned on his features. "You're the tulip thief!" he bit back. "So, that's the reason why every time I visited, I see no wilted flowers."
"What's the point of leaving them?" she asked. "Technically, they're mine." Hermione then narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute, you're changing the topic! You haven't answered my question!"
If it was possible, Draco's cheeks darkened. "Quit toying with me, nuisance," he spat. "It's not funny."
She wagged a finger in front of his face. "I'm being serious here, mister," she said. "Answer my question. Now!"
He scowled and swatted her away. "Who told you that?" he furiously asked.
"Blaise," she merely said.
His scowl turned into an enraged grimace. "That… that BASTARD!" he sputtered out, hands clenching into tight fists. "You just wait, Zabini, I'm going to rip off your bloody jewels with my own bare hands and - ."
"You're evading my question again!" Hermione pointed out, pointing an accusatory finger into his direction.
The words died down from his lips, his mouth still hanging open. He closed and opened his mouth before releasing a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "What am I supposed to say?" he cried in exasperation, averting his eyes away from her. "You... YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW! Ooh, Blaise, if I saw you right here and now, I swear… STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT, YOU BLOODY NUISANCE!" He paused, his chest heaving, as Hermione continued to gaze up at him, slightly at awe.
Draco slightly backpedaled, directing his red face away from the love of his life. "Yo-you have no idea how long I've hid this… this damnable feeling I have for you for years, Granger. YEARS." He was babbling and the brunette knew it. But she did not point it out, listening to his angry tirade with rapt attention. "W-when you died or pretended to, rather, I was… I was so devastated."
A mortified look then appeared on his face, realizing where his tirade was going. "Fucking hell, I'm not supposed to say all of those things now!" he cried.
Hermione calmly looked up at him, albeit the redness of her cheeks that rivaled his own. "Are you quite done now?" she asked, wondering why she could be so calm now despite the fact that the man she fancied practically confessed to her of his feelings.
He glared.
She sighed, and then averted her eyes away from him. "I… think I heard someone calling out my name," she smoothly lied, turning her face away from him. "I'm heading back now."
She did not see him bristle in anger but the next thing she knew, he spun her around, his face a bit murderous. "H-how can you be so casual about this, nuisance?" he bellowed. "Here I am, embarrassing myself in front of you and you… oomph!"
His words died down as soon as Hermione crashed her lips against his. His eyes grew wide, realizing what she was doing. But before he had the chance to kiss her back, she pulled away. Her cheeks were a lovely shade of red and her smile… it paled comparison to all those smiles of celebrities plastered all over the covers of the Witch Weekly.
"I do love you, you know," she murmured, affectionately nudging his nose with her own. "Err… well, not exactly, since I just recently came into a conclusion that I have feelings for you Mal… oomph."
This time, he had cut her off with his own lips, furiously moving against her stunned one. Before she could respond back, he pulled away, flashing the goofiest smile Hermione had ever seen in her whole life. "Bloody hell, Granger, I love you," he said.
"Hmm… I think we've quite established that," she said, mirroring his stupid smile.
A low growl escaped from his lips, one arm wounding itself around her waist. "You like me. I bloody like you. Now that we've established that, I'm going to warn you that your… mouth will probably be… preoccupied for a while." He released a pained groan as he buried his other free hand under her tresses. "All those years… tried to restrain myself from kissing you… and now that I can…"
She chuckled and placed one hand against his cheek, the other placed gently against his chest. "Kiss me again?" she requested.
His response was to cover her mouth with his again. Through that kiss, passionate and heated as it could be, Hermione was able to fully understand all the restraining and the longing he had to do, unleashed by just one, sweet kiss.
A small chuckle escaped from her lips when she placed both of her hands on his chest, gently pushing him away. He growled, about to kiss her again, but she shook her head. "We have to go back," she told him, taking a few steps back. His arm around her waist slipped off her form. "They're probably looking for me now. Merlin knows what they'd do. Probably gather up some search team or something."
Draco sighed and murmured dark nothings under his breath, all regarding a certain Potter and Weasley and their sick desire to ruin his whole life. "Fine," he said, finally heaving a huge sigh. "We'll go back."
Hermione quirked an eyebrow in amusement. "Holy Hufflepuff, Malfoy, I've got you whipped," she cried jovially, shouting when he poked her side.
"Say that again and I'll curse you, nuisance," he threatened, although he couldn't fight off the smile that appeared on his face.
She looked at him appraisingly, warmly thinking that his dimple did suit him, after all. "Just, come on," she said, and started to walk out of the forest. Draco then jogged next to her, a dissatisfied frown on his face.
"Once eight months of my trainings passed, Hermione," he stated, almost demandingly. "Expect your schedule to be booked."
Hermione smiled, humming in agreement. "I'll keep that in mind," she assured him.
With a grin, he did the unthinkable. Gingerly, he reached for her hand, and laced his fingers with hers. The brunette looked up at him, surprise on her face, only see that he was staring straight ahead, a pleased, contented smile on his face.
"Sometimes," she quipped, tightening her hold with his hand, "you never cease to amaze me, Draco."
"I'll let you be more amazed," he spoke, conviction in his voice, "as soon as I come back. And then, I'll make sure my out-of-town trips will be minimized."
The brunette nodded, her smile widening. Just then, she halted in her steps, suddenly remembering the real reason why she came out of the Great Hall towards her fake grave in the first place.
"Wait," she exclaimed, retrieving her hand from his grip. "Wait here. I forgot to do something." She jogged back to the graves with Draco watching her with mild curious in his features. A few minutes later, she came back, a proud grin on her face, before grabbing his hand once again and weaving her fingers into his.
"Come on," she said, tugging his arms. "Let's go back."
He nodded and they resumed their walk.
As the two walked back to Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy's grip on Hermione Granger's hand tightened, this time with an unspoken promise of forever.
The breeze blew stronger, managing to lift off dried leaves from ground. One particular managed to land on top of Hermione Granger's fake grave.
But this time, the words on her tombstone had changed, the name altered into a new one.
Hermes Austen
Though only a pretense, he saved a million lives.
FIN
* I just want to clarify something. Some people got confused when I made "freshmen year" synonymous with "first year". I actually had no idea that "freshmen year" in America or in Hogwarts or whatever technically meant that you are in fourth year and all. My basis for the "freshmen year" thing is how my country made the grading system, okay? I used to be a freshman, a first year, so there :D I do apologize and I hope I made that matter clear *wink* *wink*
Review Responses:
Nocturnal Rose: Well, LOVE LOVE LOVE your review! I actually felt how much you loved the last chapter XD Anyway, thanks for reviewing!
ninafelton229: I think you must be grinning now because your guess in your review was absolutely right! Hahaha, well, did you like it? Are you satisfied? Anyway, thanks for reviewing :D
Maelin: Thank you very much. I try to give my all in this story, especially because I love it, too :D Anyway, thanks for reviewing!
slytherinbabe44: I apologize for the "freshman year" thing. I considered our grading system here in my country, the Philippines, because here, if you are regarded as a "freshman", it means you are in your first year. Anyway, thanks for reviewing!
A/N: Well, technically it's not really the end of the whole story, seeing that I will still post the epilogue. But just in case some bizarre thing or whatever happened and I was not able to post it… KIDDING XD I love messing up with my readers. I bet some of you panicked :D Haha, anyway, so how did you like it? Please tell me in your reviews.
Speaking of reviews, OH MY EFFING GOSH, I still cannot believe it. Twenty-seven reviews more and "Only a Pretense" will officially have a thousand reviews. Good Godric, A THOUSAND REVIEWS! I used to think that that dream's merely that – a dream. But it seems so achievable to me now T_T DEAR READERS, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY I AM NOW. If I could, I would have hugged each and everyone of you.
Anyway, that's it for now. It's midnight and I have school seven hours from now. I still need to sleep, if you must know. My golly, having my own laptop isn't helping at all since I have no competition with my siblings whatsoever.
So again, reviews!
With love,
WickedlyAwesomeMe :D