Brief warning: there's a nice amount of language early on.
First disclaimer in a while (I think): I don't own anything and, if you saw my bank account, you would know that I make absolutely no money off of this. It is purely for my (and the reader's) enjoyment. Also, the quote seen later is by C. Joybell C.
Note: Pommes de terres a la salardaise: potatoes roasted in garlic and duck fat that normally accompany duck confit.
Slow braised cabbage: it would normally be braised with red wine and apples
Duck confit: something that takes a long freakin' time to make. Basically, it's salt-cured first with salt, garlic, and herbs, then it is kept in that state for 36 hours. The meat is then cleaned and put in a roasting pan and slowly cooked and, eventually, poached for 4-10 hours. Hermione does this a little different in that she crisps the skin at the end to create a little bit of texture. It's basically a really unhealthy but amazingly delicious duck recipe. If you ever go to a good restaurant, I suggest trying it. My boyfriend had it at this Italian place near my house (Mundo Trattorio for anyone in the Montreal region; it's in Pointe-Claire) and it was so FREAKIN' GOOD! But really not that healthy for you, haha.
Also, a little response (which I normally don't do)
QueenDivaSmile: basically, Ginny was kind of still getting used to Draco, so she's torn between being a smarmy bitch and being polite, which can kind of come off as a strange type of flirtation. She's still happily with Harry and if anything happened to them, I would let you guys know. But she was definitely not hitting on Draco. More like indecisive on how to react to him. It gets cleared up here. Also, with regards to Ron, we will be covering him in the next chapter (probably) with some update on his status and the like. So far though, he's still in St. Mungo's getting treated for his (eloquently put) CGW Syndrome (Curse-Gone-Wrong Syndrome). So he's still not around right now.
I just wanted to clear that up for you, since you had questions. :) I hope that the answers were/are satisfactory.
Now onto the chapter!
Chapter 25
Forgiveness
He'd been having this delightful conversation with Blaise while perusing the rows of necklaces at the local jewelry store in Hogsmeade when he sneezed loudly. He heard Blaise chuckle and mention something about someone thinking about him as he sniffled loudly, but the second Draco lifted his head, his friend was gone from sight.
Frowning, the blond looked around the shop but found it empty save for a few giggling girls watching him and a rather green looking boy surrounded by friends staring down at a selection of rings. He didn't see Blaise's head anywhere among the shelves and stands and his lips slowly curled into a frown.
What kind of bleedin' sorcery was this?
"'Ello Draco!"
"Buggering Weasels, the whole lot of you are nuisances," he grumbled as Ginny materialized behind his back with a wide grin on her face. "What the hell do you want and have you seen Blaise?"
"You could be a lot nicer to the woman who comes bearing news regarding Hermione's dress," Ginny reminded him as she rapped her fingers on the glass case holding the necklaces.
Sighing heavily, he rubbed his face and sent her a quick look. "Did she take the one I gave you?"
"If you weren't shagging her, I'd say you were gay; it was perfect."
Draco narrowed his eyes in response to her words but turned his full attention back to the cases in front of him. "Good, that makes getting her jewelry much easier."
"You do realize she's going to be pissed when she finds out you picked the dress," Ginny said, leaning over the case to look at a selection of gold necklaces. She still hadn't chosen what pieces to wear with her dress and one particular necklace with a diamond teardrop looked quite appealing.
And it was on sale at half price.
Sales had to be the best things in life.
"Well, she just doesn't have to know then, does she?" he answered with a stern look at Ginny.
"Oh don't worry," Ginny waved, "besides, Luna and I helped pay for it. I figured that you would buy her more fancy stuff, given that you like to flaunt your money and all, so we decided to pay the remainder of the gown without telling her." At this she crossed her arms. "Consider it as a gift."
"Why a gift?" His words were directed to her but his eyes were intently focused on a silver pendant that had an ornate silver feather that had a ruby as its eye. For some reason, it just screamed her; she was much like a phoenix, rising from the ashes of the war to become this new, more powerful woman. It was delicately detailed enough to be high-class and fancy, yet subtly simple enough that she could wear it for every day occasions if paired with the right clothes.
It was also very expensive, but he could always barter a lower price.
Ginny tapped her wand on the case and a perfect imitation of the gold necklace appeared around her neck. She examined herself in a mirror that materialized, giving appraising looks. "You see, first you chose the dress and you have very good tastes. So good that I, again, worry about your relationship with Blaise." Again with the gay commentary…honestly. "But, it's also because you treat her right."
At this he glanced over to her, unsure of whether he just heard her right or not. She was complimenting him? Sure, it came right after she questioned his sexuality, but still…he never thought that he'd see the day that a Weasley would be complimenting him.
The world must have stopped on its axis the day Voldemort died and then began to spin in the opposite direction, it's the only explanation for these things.
At his confused look, she decided to continue. "You've been a lot of things in the past, to sum it all up you were a downright bastard. I hated you with a passion, hated your face, your family, and everything you stood for." He actually appreciated the honesty. "You were a bloody fool who didn't know the meaning of equality. But…someone once told me that people are capable of change. And someone once showed me this. I figured that if Snape could change, maybe other people could, people who had been Death Eaters, people who had been racist bastard who couldn't stand the idea of anyone other than Purebloods doing well in life.
"Then, you came along. You came along and you fucked everything right up. You screwed up all of my original notions that idea I had was pushed in fast-forward. You were the worst; I saw you as this horrible creature who blindly followed Voldemort and was as racist as racist can be. But then we found out you were actually on our side, that the later years were an act and the earlier years were a result of horrible upbringing, and this messed stuff up. You truly and honestly messed up my opinion of you and the Slytherins because you created this whole new person, this new potential personality that I hadn't even considered, and that…that was hard to take."
She took a deep breath, eyes still focused on the case, this time examining a pair of earrings that matched the necklace. Draco, however, was leaning on the glass frame and listening raptly, eyes never wavering from her freckled face.
"To make matters worse, you had to go ahead and make Head Boy and Hermione had to be daft enough to fall right into your arms. First friends, then, next thing I know, you two are madly in love. That really messed me up, because that was something that, regardless of how much we've changed, I could not accept. It hurt to accept it, I didn't want to accept it, and it took a long period of contemplation to finally realize that Hermione was actually in love with you. That was hard to accept, because it meant that I was accepting that you were a good person. Then everything with Ron happened and I wanted to believe you caused it, you did something to my brother to make him turn on her…but, basically, these past several months have been one long period of acceptance. And fucking hell, you really sped things up. I had no choice, but I decided that if I couldn't stop her, I would watch you."
"What are you, some kind of creepy stalker?" he interjected. When she turned to glare at him, she saw the way his eyes twinkling in a teasing manner, contrasting with the scowl of his lips.
Letting out a breath, she shook her head and turned back to the earrings, magically placing a copy on her ears. Tapping her wand to the mirror, she allowed the image to morph to one of her wearing her ball gown. Draco, however, ignored this and kept his eyes focused solely on her, anticipating her reaction. Never before had he heard such words coming from the female Weasley, heck, he had never imagined that he would ever hear such things, save for the first part. But then again, he knew that he had been a right bastard for the majority of his life, Lucius had made sure of that.
"Anyway," she continued, "I kept an eye on you, made sure that you did her right. I made sure that you never made Hermione cry, never insulted her, made her feel bad for who she is, and I wanted to be damned sure that you weren't just using her to improve your image. That was the most important thing; I didn't want you using or abusing her. Hermione is a great woman, she's powerful, beautiful, intelligent, and pretty damned amazing, but she also hasn't had the greatest of luck when it comes to men. Hell, it took Harry and Ron four damn years before they realized that she was a girl! Then throw in people like Krum and McLaggen into the picture and it just gets worse. So, obviously, I needed to make sure that you of all people treated her right, and I have the right as her friend to do just that."
Draco waited as she paused, watching as she waved around her wand, dismissing the mirror and the jewelry. Slowly, she turned to face him, crossing her arms over her breasts. "You surprised me. You really, truly and honestly fucked up everything I thought I knew about the world and people. When I saw her smiling in a way I haven't seen her smile in such a long time, when I saw just how happy she was…you messed up my mind. Hell, I still don't want to believe it, but I know I have to. You're much better than I've ever thought of you to be, you actually give a damn and you treat her like she deserves to be treated. That's why," she smiled at him, "I said that paying for the dress was a gift. It's my way of saying thank you for being what Hermione needs, for treating her right, and for making her feel like she's the only person you see and love in the whole wide world. And thank you for being honest about your feelings, for not lying or making them up." Her smile widened but remained soft, almost wistful, yet filled with nothing but pure contentment and approval. "Thank you, M…Draco."
There was an awkwardly comfortable silence that slowly fell around them and, as if they couldn't bear looking at each other any longer. He turned his gaze back down to the pendant under the case, eyeing a pair of silver teardrop earrings that had little rubies in the center. It kept him distracted briefly, focusing his attention on calling over the owner in order to purchase the jewelry. Once the owner hurried off to package and charge the items, he chanced a glance at Ginny, finding her staring longingly at the gold necklace and matching earrings.
When the owner materialized again, he discussed a few things with the man behind the counter before sauntering over to where Ginny stood in front of a case in the corner.
"You know, I never thought that I'd be able to converse normally with pretty much anyone, let alone a Weasley," he admitted softly, causing her eyes to glance over to him. "This is probably even more surprising to me than it is to you. But, I want to…thank you for everything you just said." He chuckled in spite of the seriousness of their conversation, rubbing his chin with his fingers. "That just doesn't sound right…I'm thanking a Weasley."
She pursed her lips and glared at him, tilting her head in an attempt to look menacing, reminding him that she could cause a great deal of pain with very little effort. It almost had him tugging at his collar…almost.
"Well, it was just as strange thanking a damn Malfoy," she retorted sharply.
At this he laughed and rolled his shoulders, preparing to trudge through the rest of his speech, although it wasn't going to be nearly as long as hers. "Look, as awkward as this is, I just want to say that you're right. I want to treat Hermione right; she's such a beautiful, wonderful, and perfect woman and she deserves to be treated with respect and the utmost love. I do my best to make sure that she knows this every day, that I love her." He leaned against the case, reaching for the boxes when the owner re-appeared to hand him his purchases. He nodded in thanks. "Basically, I want to say thank you for being honest, and for starting to…accept me." He reached forward and pressed two boxes into her hands, his eyes twinkling. "This is my thanks to you for watching over Hermione for all these years." He turned his back to her at this point, both not wanting and not caring over her reaction to his gift. It really didn't matter in the end; the real gift was the hand of friendship she had just bestowed upon him. Of course, he would never make it that obvious.
"She's a wonderful woman," he said as he made his way to the door, "she's lucky to have a friend like you."
Ginny followed him, clutching the boxes to her chest, her expression torn between relived joy and uncertain wariness. The last gift Malfoy had 'given' her, after all, had been the damn diary in her first year, although it had technically been given to her by his father. In her mind, however, it was hard to remove the ideology of all Malfoys being the same and 'once a Malfoy always a Malfoy.' She knew that it was the same for him, which made the conversation they had just had feel all the more awkward.
"Just so you know, we're not best friends now or anything," she piped up, stuffing the boxes into her bag.
"I never once thought we were," he answered as he opened the door, the bell chiming brightly as a warm spring breeze filtered into the shop.
When they stepped out of the shop, Draco quickly looked around, searching for any unwanted attention. Satisfied that they were relatively alone and nobody was fixated on them, he flashed Ginny a quick and very-Malfoy-esque smile before stretching his hand out to hers. "Acquaintance?" he asked.
She hesitated for a moment; she had been able to deal with the conversation inside, but she had never thought that she might have to touch the self-centered Slytherin. Then again, never before in her life had she thought that Hermione, of all people, would be the one to fall in love with her childhood tormentor.
"I think the world went upside down the day Voldemort was killed," she muttered, earning a curious stare from him. "Honestly, think about it…"
"Little Miss Ginny Weasley the Gryffindor Princess and Scary Mister Draco Malfoy the Slytherin King, standing together outside of a jewelry store, reading and willing to put old feelings aside and establish some kind of amity? Oh trust me, this feels more like a nightmare to me," he answered. "But, given that Potter and I had recently discovered that we have numerous mutual interests, and that you and I only have Hermione's best interests in mind, it might be best to put aside the old thoughts and memories and try to at least be civil, correct?"
"You're still an annoying arse," she answered, reaching forward to shake his hand.
"And you're still the Weaslette," he responded as he shook then let go of her hand.
Quickly, Draco rubbed his hand on his legs and Ginny mirrored him. It felt awkward, uncomfortable, and left this dirty feel to their hands. "Now, where has my girlfriend and the delightful Lovegood hidden my mate Blaise from me?"
"So you think we kidnapped him?"
"Why else would he disappear and you suddenly show up with that annoyingly long speech? I've indulged you, so indulge me."
Ginny huffed loudly and stuffed her hands into the pocket of her sweater. So the ferret was smarter than he looked; bastard. "Ah, bugger off. We're supposed to meet at the Three Broomsticks in ten minutes, so let's just head there."
With that, she trudged ahead of him and he trailed behind, glad that the awkwardness was finally fading away. It had been hard enough trying to establish a friendship with Potter, it was even more difficult to deal with one of the Weasleys. He was terrified at the thought of having to handle the whole brood of them.
"You know, my mum isn't as forgiving as me," Ginny piped up, as if reading his mind.
"You know, unlike you, Hermione really likes it when I touch her with my fingers," he answered, wriggling his fingers at her for extra effect when she turned around to send him a dirty glare. "Just saying."
"Slimy git."
"Dim-witted ginger."
Friday, June 5th, 2009
Anxious could not even come close to describing how she felt at this very moment. Her stomach was twisting in knots like a pile of writhing snakes and she felt so jittery that she couldn't sit down for more than a minute without either jiggling her leg or needing to get up and move about. Needless to say, she was not used to having this much frustrating anxiety on her mind even though she had just endured a week's worth of final exams.
Pacing back and forth in the kitchen, Hermione glanced back to the cloak, noting that they were supposed to be back any second now. Taking in a deep breath, she smoothed out her skirt and took in her surroundings.
The Heads' Common Room hadn't really been decorated, but it had been more or less romanticized. She had dimmed the lighting and, only because they had so much of it left, threw a pinch of the red Rainbow Powder, giving the room a sultry glow to it. The dining table had been set up, a clean and crisp white table cloth spread across it and lightly decorated with a tall, thin and clear vase that was filled with white roses. It created a little romantic feel to the table, although she didn't want it to be too overwhelming or too Valentine's Day-ish. Today was about Draco.
Supper was already prepared and kept warm in the oven; Blaise had told her that Draco had been profoundly disappointed that the school rarely served duck, especially duck confit, so she had taken up the several-day task of preparing and cooking the time-consuming dish. Of course, she planned to serve it with the most typical accompaniments, pommes de terres à la salardaise and slow-braised red cabbage.
What she was most nervous about happened to be two things, given that the whole cooking process had been a total success. The first was the dessert portion of things; she had made decadent dark chocolate fondants with a raspberry sauce, but in order to ensure that they were delicious enough, she would have to put them in the oven just before they began supper. This meant that she would be breaking his main rule of no baking in the Heads' Tower.
Draco still hadn't come clean about his obsession regarding baking and she had been growing ever more curious with every passing day. It was an irrational fear and she could only assume that it had been brought about by a horrific experience. That or maybe it had only seemed terrifying in the eyes of a child. That was what she had hoped for; that he had been frightened as a young boy and threw things out of proportion, as young children often did, making things seem scarier than they actually were.
All she knew was that she had worked far too hard on this meal to let him ruin it with his anti-baking attitude. If he didn't want to tell her why, then so be it, but she wanted to let him know that if she wanted to bake, she would, and that it would benefit him in the long run, since she was a rather good baker.
That was, of course, only fear number two.
Fear number one was whether or not she had chosen an appropriate birthday present for him.
Draco Malfoy was a young man who could easily have everything and anything he wanted. He had proven such when he had easily, without any problems, purchased her earring and necklace set to go with her Graduation Ball dress. She hadn't yet opened the boxes, explaining to him that she wanted to be surprised on the day of the Ball, but she knew that they were going to be stupidly expensive.
Damn rich prat.
So, what did one buy the man who had everything for his birthday?
Something sentimental.
That's what Blaise had told her, and initially she agreed, but then she realized that they had really over the sentimental-gift exchange at Christmas.
So what was left? She knew about his interests: Quidditch, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, fantasy books, and, as Blaise pointed out, her, which she blushed at.
It was only after a while that she had realized just what she could do for a gift and was quite satisfied with the results. Furthermore, if things went well with issue number two, then she could even give him the extra fun gift she'd purchased on a whim.
For now, however, she would have to try and settle her nerves while waiting for Blaise to escort Draco back to the Heads' Tower after they had gone out for a couple of celebratory Butterbeer after completing their final exam. Brushing her skirt once more, she moved to the fridge to pour herself a glass of water and sat down at the table in anticipation.
2 hours later…
Frustrated boiled over as she sent what had to be the twentieth Patronus out of the window in search of Draco and Blaise. Blaise had reassured her that they would be back for 7, and now it was 9 and she had been forced to pack up the food and put it in the fridge to keep it from drying out.
"Where the hell are they?" she grumbled, pacing back and forth by the windows facing Hogsmeade, keeping her eyes focused on the twinkling lights of the village beyond the grounds.
Her heart was aching and her body was trembling in a mixture of anxiety and anger. Two hours; they were two bleedin' hours late, and she had gotten absolutely no response from Blaise. Initially, fear had threatened to overwhelm her when she had stumbled back in time, falling back into a world of terror and threat. She wondered if something bad had happened, if someone had gotten to Draco or Blaise, if they had been kidnapped and were lying in some cold, dark dungeon waiting to be rescued.
But then she realized, calmly, that it was not 2006; they were no longer 17 and terrified. That was three years ago, a place of the past, and she willed herself to remember that they had managed to successfully lock away all of the darkness from those years. Today was meant to be a joyful day; it was, after all, Draco's twentieth birthday. It was, regardless, still difficult to push aside those old feelings and focus more on irritation rather than fear.
Fretting, she paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, letting out a loud sigh every five steps. She knew that this was very much unlike both Draco and Blaise; while they enjoyed life and partied as much as they possibly could, they both knew that she had made dinner plans with Draco this night – although Draco didn't know about the gifts – and they would have both been on time. They were, after all, individuals who prided themselves on punctuality.
Pausing, she let out one particularly long and loud sigh before rubbing her temples with her fingers. She needed to calm down; she couldn't just let herself get riled up and then snap at Draco the second he stepped in. Maybe something came up, maybe somebody got hurt or sick and he was helping to take care of them. Maybe Draco got hurt, maybe he fell down or cut himself or…well, he could have gotten hurt and that was why he wasn't here yet. It was a very plausible reason, although it caused the worries rooted in the war to slowly surface once more.
Sitting down on the couch, she reached forward to her glass of water, taking a deep drink to calm her mind.
"I'm sure everything is fine; they probably have a good reason," she reasoned aloud in an attempt to further ease her worries. "I'll just send Madame Rosmerta a Patronus and ask her if anything happened. If Blaise and Draco are busy with something, maybe they can't respond just yet."
Breathing out, she stood back up and moved to the window, sticking her wand out. "Expecto Patronum," she murmured, instructing the image what to say before watching the effervescent, cloud-like otter fly off to Hogsmeade Village.
It took about fifteen minutes for Madame Rosmerta's Irish Cob to return with a message that made Hermione see red. It appeared as though Blaise and Draco had met up with a few close Slytherin friends and were partying away with glass after glass of Firewhiskey, Elf-made wine and mead. Needless to say, Hermione's fears were now abated, and were instead replaced with an anger so strong it shook her body.
"Buggerin' bastards," she swore loudly, slamming the window shut after sending a quick 'thank you' Patronus to Madame Rosmerta. "I asked them to be here two hours ago, I said that it was okay if they were a tad late, but I told them that it was because I had a dinner planned. Instead, what do they do? They go out and get drunk. A bunch of arseholes, the whole lot of them."
She continued to rant as she aggressively cleaned up the area, taking apart the set up on the dining room table and savagely dumping out the unbaked contents of her ramekins. Her heart ached and her stomach felt twisted and hot. She hadn't asked for much; just that Draco come and enjoy the nice dinner she had planned out. She hadn't really asked for much before this; no special Valentine's Day plans, no extravagant date nights, heck, she didn't even want Draco to know when she had gone dress shopping just so he wouldn't sneak around and pay for her gown behind her back. Ron had once called her the most 'low maintenance' girlfriend anyone could have ever asked for.
So why is it that when she asked for one little thing, for Draco to just be on time for a nice, celebratory, couple's dinner, he decided to spend his evening getting moronically drunk with his equally idiotic Slytherin compatriots?
"Fuckers," she muttered as she trudged from the Common Room to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.
With a flick of her wand, she locked her door and, after completing her evening washroom rituals and tossing Draco's presents unceremoniously onto his bed, she locked her door leading to the joint bathroom. Once they were locked, she cast one last locking spell on the room, reinforcing the locks on the doors and ensuring that nobody would be able to get in; she changed and crawled into her bed, still seething and aching.
"Bastards," she murmured, clinging to her pillow as silent tears began to slide down her face. It hurt, it hurt a lot, that Draco had decided to spend time getting wasted rather than enjoy a nice evening with her. She had never thought that she would feel such emotions, never once catered to the notion that such an event would upset her so. She thought that she was beyond such petty things, that she was rational and logical enough to push away the childish thoughts and focus more on getting revenge.
Instead, her heart twisted in her chest and her eyes burned with tears.
Burying her face in her pillow, she silently cried herself to sleep as Draco, down in Hogsmeade, drank himself into a stupor, completely oblivious to the hurt woman alone in her tower.
"Look, really, I-I have t-to goooo," he reasoned, body swaying in an unknown wind. It was as though the whole world was spinning and he had no way to stand straight.
"But we're having fuuuuuun," answered Gregory Goyle, whose voice ended on a rather high-pitched note as he drew out the last word. This resulted in a gaggle of Slytherin girls to erupt in giggles. Even Millicent, who had been contentedly holding hands with Elsa Mirren, managed an uncharacteristic girlish giggle.
"Yeah…bu-but I think I had something to do," Draco answered, still teetering on the spot as he tried to move away from the festive, boisterous, and rather inebriated group sitting in a booth at the back of the Three Broomsticks. "It..it was something important, I remember that!" he slurred, gesticulating wildly with his hand, index finger pointed at the group.
Blaise showed up at that very much and tucked his arm around Draco's, tugging his friend away. "Come on! I bet Granger's waiting for you to come back so she can shag the bleedin' piss out of you."
"Ah, I remember…it was something about Hermione!" Draco exclaimed as Blaise pulled him out of the Inn and into the chilly spring night.
They wobbled and stumbled their way back to the castle, laughing loudly then shushing each other before erupting into a fit of silent giggles. They weren't quite sure what was funny, but they knew that there was something hilarious going on. Draco would occasionally stop and make an exclamation about how he had something important to do with Hermione, but he couldn't quite remember what.
As they arrived at the school, Draco stopped at the wall nearest to the entrance and pulled down his pants. Blaise, hesitating at first, joined Draco in the act of emptying his bladder. Together, they chuckled loudly and, mid-piss, Draco suddenly threw his arms in the air, shouting, "Look Blaise! No hands!" With that said and done, he began wriggling wildly, childishly excited with the way everything moved and sprayed.
Blaise erupted into a fit of giggles at the sight and nearly pissed all over himself.
Once done their antics, they, still giggling loudly like a gaggle of girls, sloppily trudged their way into the school. Blaise, the more sober of the two, helped Draco make his way to the Head's Tower, both rambling endlessly about the most useless of things.
"Blaise, can I tell you a secret?" Draco suddenly slurred.
"I like secrets," Blaise answered with a smile.
"Her…Hermee-oh…Ah, fuck, I can't say her name, it's too hard right now," he mumbled, rubbing his face with his free hand, the other arm slung across Blaise's soldiers. "Hermy…she's the best fucking, and I mean fucking, thing to ever happen to me. Ya know that, right? She's like…bloody awesome! And man, her tits, they're so niiiiiiiiiiiiiice." Draco let go of Blaise and reached out, imitating groping a pair of breasts while chuckling loudly. "They're so soft and squishy!"
At the mention of Hermione, both men felt a niggling sensation at the backs of their minds, as if there was something to do with her that they had forgotten about tonight. It was there, somewhere, but they just couldn't find it in the fog of alcohol. Instead, Blaise smack Draco on the back in a gesture of camaraderie.
"That's awesome, mate," he grinned, "but, ya know, I gotta disagree…'cause Luna's got the best tits ever…when they're put in my face…aww man. Best ever!"
"I c…can't believe you're dating her," Draco answered as they continued on their way, done with the drunken showmanship. "It's so weird!"
"Yeah, but she's awesome."
"She is pretty cool."
"And she gives the best head ever!"
"No, Hermy does!"
They stumbled into the Head's Tower, giggling loudly about some comment Draco made about Neville and his toad, and they sloppily made their way to Draco's room, where the blond flopped happily onto his bed.
"It'shoooo comfy!" he mewled, burrowing his face into his pillow before splaying out. What he didn't notice was that the action caused two wrapped boxes to stumble onto the floor.
Blaise left Draco there, pleased in his success, before making his giddy way back down to the dungeons. It was only once he got there and had taken his sobering up potion, that he realized just what he had been forgetting all evening.
"I forgot about the bloody dinner!" he suddenly shouted, reaching up to rub his face. "Ah hell, she's going to be pissed!"
He woke up that morning with a splitting headache and the feeling of several snakes battling in his stomach. Groaning, silently cursing himself for being stupid enough to get so drunk the night before, he managed to reach into his bedside drawer and pull out a small vial. The sound of it clinking on the wood made his ears ring and head roar and he had to pause for a second to regain his bearings.
Slowly, he uncapped the bottle and brought it to his lips, mentally preparing himself for the ungodly tasted of the Sober Up Potion.
It made his stomach turn and he grimaced, falling back and groaning loudly as he gripped his stomach in an attempt to not throw it back up. Huffing loudly, he let out a sigh of relief as the sensation passed and flopped back against his pillow, closing his eyes.
"I'm never doing that again," he groaned, reaching up to rub his tired face. He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten so drunk; it had probably been the night of his eighteenth birthday, where he was able to celebrate, with his fellow Slytherin spies, the end of the war and his first birthday in a world of peace. He could barely remember the antics of that night, but apparently they had been hilarious, entertaining, and a bit dark when a few painful memories surfaced at numerous points in time.
At this instance, he could only remember snippets from the night, recalling the unbelievably delightful nachos Rosmerta had served, the pain he felt in his backside after falling off of a table he had been dancing on with Blaise, and something about tits and how awesome they were.
He knew that he hadn't done anything wrong, knew that Blaise would have kept an eye on him and he would have watched out for Blaise. He knew that he hadn't kissed someone else, or done anything remotely close to cheating. So why did he suddenly feel wracked with guilt?
Crawling out of bed, he stumbled briefly and tripped over an object on the floor. Muttering to himself about being cleaner, he bent down and paused in surprise at the two wrapped items on his floor.
Picking them up, he slowly sat back onto his bed, trying not to get too excited over the fact that he had just found two surprise presents in his room. He loved presents.
Giddily, he unwrapped one of them and was surprised to find just a cardboard box. Eyeing the container warily, he hesitated. He realized that he had been a little too quick to unwrap the paper and that, perhaps, there had been some kind of hex or spell on them. He reached over for his wands and cast several spells, trying to identity whether there were any harmful spells on the containers.
Satisfied that they were clear, he went back to opening the unwrapped gift. Slowly, he pulled out a rectangular, wooden frame that had glass walls. Inside of the case was a golden Snitch, its wings outstretched as if mid-flight. Engraved on a gold plaque on the front was the saying "It's beautiful to discover our wings and learn to fly."
He couldn't help but smile, recognizing the Snitch as the first one he had ever caught against the infamous Harry Potter; there was a faint burn mark on the top of it from one of Weasley's curses. He knew, immediately, who this gift was from and the sentimentality of it made his heart soar.
Even more excited now, he grabbed the second box, much smaller this time, and hurriedly unwrapped and opened it. Out fell a silver chain and pendant. Jewelry? He found it odd, but he had to admit it was a fine piece. Out fell a piece of paper with writing scrawled on it, writing he had recognized to be Hermione's. "It's a Serch Bythol, a Celtic symbol. It symbolizes two people joined in mind, body, and spirit. A symbol of everlasting love."
As he read the words, he found that tears suddenly pricked at his eyes and the guilt tore through his heart.
He hurt, inside and out, and he gripped the chain tightly as a particular memory flooded to his vision.
He had stood her up.
He had made a promise that he would enjoy a lovely dinner with her, and he had stood her up.
It was the only thing she had ever directly asked of him, the only time she had requested he do something for her, and he had completely forgotten about it.
She never asked for anything, never requested that he go out of his way to help her, all she had ever asked for was to be treated as an equal.
The one time…
Not only that, he dimly realized, but he had stood her up for his birthday dinner.
"I really fucked up."
He put on the necklace and then jumped out of bed, not caring about his appearance; he hurried out into the Common Room, carrying the case holding the Snitch. He hoped that she was there on the couch, angry and sulking, and he had, unfortunately, been very wrong. The Common Room lay empty and bare, void of all life.
Hurriedly, he made his way back up the stairs and banged loudly onto her bedroom door, shouting for her name. After no response, he jiggled the doorknob and found it to be unlocked. Opening the door a crack, he peered in to find the room empty. Cursing loudly, he hurried to the entrance, toeing on a pair of shoes before hurrying through the castle in search of her. It was still relatively early, so breakfast was still going on. There was a good possibility that she had gone down to eat with Potter and the Ginger Queen, so he, clothes still askew and hair a mess, made his way down to the Great Hall to apologize.
He knew that, in general, it would not have been a big deal, but he had a feeling that she had put her whole heart and soul into the dinner last night. It was not very often that she got to do such things and she always put her all into them. Furthermore, the fact that it was the one and only time she had ever asked him to do anything, and that he had stood her up, made the pain in his heart that much more powerful.
Panting, he arrived at the entrance to the Great Hall and poked his head around the door, suddenly very much aware of how he was dressed. His shirt was half-button and partially un-tucked and his jeans were hanging loosely around his hips, the fly and buttons undone. His shoes were mismatched, hair mussed and he was quite sure that he smelled of liquor and smoke. Tugging his wand out of his pocket, glad that he had the mind to grab it, he cast a couple of quick charms, fixing his clothes to a more respectable state and clearing his body of all foul smells.
Breathing out a small sigh, he stuck his head back around the door and spotted her nibbling on a piece of toast beside the Weaselette. She was surrounded by her friends, Potter facing her, Longbottom on her other side, and Luna had merrily made her way over to sit facing the redhead while Seamus and Dean sat on the other side of Scarhead.
"Ah hell," he mumbled.
"We both owe her some apologies."
"That's if she doesn't hex our balls off first," Draco answered, unsurprised to find Blaise standing behind him, looking just as guilty as he felt, perhaps less so. She had, after all, asked Blaise to make sure that they were back in time for the dinner.
He was pretty sure that 3 in the morning was no 'in time' nor fashionably late.
"I'll go in first, diffuse it a bit," Blaise offered and Draco couldn't help but note that he looked considerably more dapper and cleaner than the blond.
Nodding, he watched as Blaise made his way into the Great Hall. Instantly, Hermione sent an angry glare his way and Luna suddenly took on the appearance of a scolding mother. The image mortified Draco, especially since Luna never once scowled or scolded. The fact that she was glaring at Blaise of all people terrified him.
He watched as Blaise spoke with Hermione, but he couldn't hear exactly what was being said. He watched as her face shifted to anger, frustration, disappointment and then acceptance. Blaise had somehow managed to get through her stubborn shell and obtain her forgiveness. It was an amazing feat in itself, especially given how recent the event was. But then again, Blaise had only been asked to watch for the time. He was not the one who had stood her up and upset her. He was merely an accomplice.
He then watched as Blaise tried to diffuse her feelings about Draco standing her up. He knew that his friend was talking about him because of the way Hermione's face contorted with a mixture of sadness and exasperation. He watched as her eyes glimmered with something he could not describe and, without any prior indication, Blaise began making his way over to the Slytherin table, which was notably absent of most seventh years. Alcohol had a tendency to do that to people.
Breathing in deeply, he fought back uncertainty and reminded himself that if Blaise could do it, so could he. Throwing back in shoulders and taking in another deep breath, he stepped into the Great Hall with every intention of gaining her forgiveness.
As he moved closer, he felt most of the eyes of the Gryffindors on him and he knew that he would have to do something big or go back alone. Potter was watching him with wary eyes, while the Ginger Queen flipped her hair and him off in the same sweep of the arm, Luna's eyes glimmered with disappointment, yet behind was a faint glow of excitement, as if she was anticipating what he might say, or a major fight. She really was strange.
Seamus and Dean merely glared at him while Longbottom shifted closer to Hermione in a protective gesture.
The one person he truly cared about, however, sent him one sharp glare before turning her attention back to her barely eaten toast.
His heart twisted at that; he had upset her so much that she wasn't even eating.
"Ah, Hermione," he said softly as he reached her. She kept her back to him but was visibly shaking. "Hermione, look…I…I wanted to apologize for last night. I know that I don't really have a viable excuse; I just got caught up in catching up with friends, and they kept feeding us drinks until I lost track of everything. But…it's really no reason for me to have stood you up."
"No, it isn't."
At least she responded, even it is was sharp and riddled with anger.
"I just…I wanted to say I'm sorry. I…I feel awful," he continued, realizing that several more eyes had fallen on him, eager to see what might happen. He knew, immediately, that this would be the gossip of the school for the next couple of days. Thank Merlin that classes were over.
"I shouldn't have done that, I shouldn't have stood you up," he continued after taking in a deep breath for confidence. Despite his past actions, he actually hated this kind of attention. He hated doing anything shameful in public; he preferred to be the star in a positive sense rather than a negative. Hopefully, he would be able to turn the tables, at least in her mind. He had recently learned to ignore the gossip of his fellow students and focus only on those who mattered.
"I should have refused those drinks, hell, I shouldn't have even gone." He rubbed his face with frustration, holding the Snitch's case close to his body with his free hand. "I did something really stupid and I really should not have done that. You never ask me to do anything, you never ask for stuff, you never demand for my free time, and the one and only time you ever asked for it, I really fucked it up. You…you're an amazing woman, Hermione, and I think that you are perfect in every sense of the way." At this, she sent him an unconvinced look and he cleared his throat. "I mean it, I really do," he continued. "You really are perfect; you're understanding, you're patient, you're kind, and gentle, and absolutely brilliant. I love it when you smile because you make my day, and every time I'm with you, I hate the idea of us parting, because I can't bear the thought. You're the most loving and beautiful person I'll ever know, and I hate it that I upset you like that. I was a bloody idiot for choosing to get drunk over spending time with you and I'm angry with myself for upsetting you so much."
He squatted down, so that she would not have to look up to keep eye contact with him. Gently, he pressed his hand on her knee and silently, soothingly, willed her to turn around and face him.
"Hermione," he said softly, "I'm sorry. I was a bloody idiot and I really upset you. You really never ask for much, you never ask for anything; you're so damn independent that I'm never able to do anything for you." He almost sounded bitter at that and it made her heart twinge. "And the one fucking time you ask me to do something, I screw it up." He let out a heavy breath and rubbed his thumb gently over her knee, keeping his eyes focused on hers, watching as the emotions played behind them.
"I love you, you know that right?" He smiled at her as his cheeks burned with embarrassment when several girls squealed with joy over his words. He really hated doing these things in public, but he had to if he wanted her to forgive him. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, watching as her eyes shimmered with faint forgiveness as the barrier around her heart broke.
"I cried myself to sleep last night."
The words were quiet, only spoken for him, and yet they shattered his heart. His face fell and his body ached.
"Hell," he swore, suddenly reaching forward to pull her down into his arms. They fell hard and his rear hurt, but he didn't care. He held her close and tight, pressing her face into his shoulder and he buried his into her mass of hair.
"I'm so sorry," he muttered, keeping her close.
She held still for a while as he repeated the words, but slowly her heart broke down and her soul lay bare. It had hurt, it had hurt so much to be stood up; she had been hurt before in her life, had been ignored, taunted, teased, and even beaten, but nothing had hurt more than knowing that he had preferred to get drunk with a bunch of guys than spend the evening with her in a romantic celebration. It had made her feel unwanted and it had been so long since she had felt that way. It had brought back negative feelings and painful memories of the nights she had spent alone throughout her entire life, unwanted by the girls in the Gryffindor Tower and unable to spend time with Harry and Ron. She had always felt like an outsider, despite constantly being surrounded by friends, and when she had finally fallen in love with Draco, she had hope that these sensations would disappear. He had made her open up, helped her become a more sociable, amiable person, and she had finally been able to do more, be more, and feel more.
Then he had ignored her, and it had made her question everything about herself. She had buried away the negative thoughts, had hidden them away into a locked box at the back of her soul, and yet they were so easily unearthed.
But now…now he held her close, so tightly that she was consumed by his earthly, divine smell, and he whispered apologies into her ear. She felt the way her shook, felt the case digging uncomfortably into her ribs, and she couldn't help but forgive him.
Maybe she had overreacted, maybe she had let the negativity grow too much and too fast, and maybe she hadn't given him enough of a chance. She had to learn to control her emotions, to fight back her memories, and realize that not everybody was perfect. Draco would make mistakes, they would do things that would piss each other off in the future, and there would be fights. But, in the end, they would always be there for each other and that was all that mattered.
"It's okay…I overreacted," she admitted quietly, reaching up to hold him tightly. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I love you too."
He smiled brightly at her as he pulled away, grinning like an idiot. Suddenly, he thrust out the case and gestured to his necklace. "I love them, by the way."
"I was hoping you would."
It would always be like this; they would fight, they would disagree, and in the end, they would come back together, apologize, and they would try to get life back to normal once again. She knew that it wouldn't always be as easy as this, knew that one of them would do something worse in the future, but she also trusted that they would come back together once more.
They were, after all, made that way.
"Why can't you guys act like a normal couple for once? The whole school is looking at you…again," Neville groaned from his seat, stabbing his eggs with his fork. "It's almost embarrassing being near you."
The group chuckled as Hermione and Draco scrambled to their feet, cheeks a bright red as they realized that the attention of the entire school was focused on them…again.
"Neville, you're talking about Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, the world's unlikeliest couple. I don't think anything about them will ever be normal," Luna answered softly with a smile.
"Yes, well, can we at least go a month without some kind of Hermione-Malfoy thing?"
"Hopefully," Hermione chuckled, getting to her feet and nudging Ginny over so that Draco could sit with her.
Draco placed the case on the table and wriggled it in front of Harry's face. "Hey, Potter, like the reminder that I beat you?"
"Malfoy, if I had a Snitch for every time I kicked your arse, this table would be covered," Harry responded without a second glance.
"Ah, you're just jealous."
"Bugger off, Malfoy; I'm trying to enjoy my breakfast."
Draco sent him a sneer before reaching over and stealing one of Hermione's slices of toast, much to her chagrin.
Immediately, she became scolding him for getting his own food, Harry unconsciously glared at the Snitch across the table, Ginny and Luna erupted into a conversation about the Ball, while Seamus and Dean began discussing what to do during the summer. During the whole thing, Neville silently ate his breakfast, wondering just when the world turned upside down.
"Mental," he muttered, "we've all gone mental."
Here you guys go. A nice and lengthy one. Originally, I wasn't going to make Draco stand up Hermione, but I figured that it would make things a bit more interesting than have him show, them have some romantic mushy dinner, and all that jazz. Besides, it was a bit fun to write a drunk Draco and Blaise.
Please let me know if there's miscellaneous information in there that doesn't make sense; I was in my class when writing (we were mostly watching clips), so there might be some random information about Japanese music from the 1970's and 1980's. Hopefully there isn't any, haha.
I'm sorry about the cheesiness of this chapter, I tried to avoid it as much as possible, but sometimes you can't avoid it. Besides, I think Draco was due for a nice little speech to Hermione, given that in MCMM she was the one giving him the speech. And I know she overreacted, but remember: she had always been left behind, always been ignored and put aside with regards to fun stuff; I can really relate to that, so it hurts like hell when someone you thought would never forget you actually does.
Anyway, please review and let me know what you think. We're almost done, just a couple more chapters. I can't promise that I will have the next up by the end of the month, though; I have 1 paper due next week, an exam the following week, and the week after I have four papers due in three days, so that will not be a pleasant experience. Plus, I have two mini essays due and another small essay. Everything is due before December, so I will have my hands full. I will do my best, though!
I hope you enjoyed it.