Seven
She wasn't at dinner that night. He pretended he didn't care and that the food tasted of anything but ashes and sand. He'd hoped to make amends for weeping all over her and using her cloak as an oversized hanky, but she wasn't there. He tried not to take it personally. He failed.
He stalked out of the Great Hall, face like thunder and robes fluttering in his wake. He wanted desperately to get to his room and his bottle of Firewhiskey.
"Ronald, honestly, how many times do I need to repeat myself?"
Her voice echoed through the entrance hall and brought Draco to an abrupt halt. He turned towards the noise and saw the Golden Trio reunited. But not really. Potter stood to the side, elaborately not engaging in the discussion between the other two. Weasley's face turned more and more red by the second, clashing horribly with his hair, and Hermione stood facing him, fists balled and an annoyed glare in her eyes.
"But Mum insisted…" Weasley was saying. "Just because we broke up doesn't mean you can no longer celebrate Christmas with us! Why would you stay here all alone?"
"Do you remember what it was like the last time I was at the Burrow? All these little digs at how sad she was I would not be her daughter-in-law, and how much she'd always wanted more daughters? How perfect we were as a couple? What a shame it was we broke up, and was I quite certain I shouldn't give it another chance?" Hermione uttered a frustrated sound and turned away from Weasley. She didn't seem to notice Draco, though. She simply took a few deep breaths and then turned back.
"Look, we both know it didn't work between us. And that's fine. We're still finding our way back to friendship, and I'm glad. But spending Christmas with your family is just… I just can't, Ron. It's too soon. Maybe next year."
Weasley's face lost some of its brilliant colour and he stepped up to her and enveloped her in a hug. "I wish we could have made it work," he muttered.
The sound carried across the empty hall to Draco, who wasn't quite sure what to make of the painful tightening of his chest at the scene.
"It is what it is." Hermione shrugged herself free from the hug. "We gave it a try, we had a good run, but it's time to move on. We both know that. We just need to wait until you bring another girl home so Molly can focus on her, and then I just become Hermione again, instead of the almost-daughter-in-law-she'll-never-have."
A wry smile appeared on Weasley's face.
"Can't say I didn't try." He glanced at his watch and turned to the hitherto quiet third of the Trio. "Harry, we should probably get going. It's almost eight."
The three said their goodbyes, but Draco didn't wait around. He quietly made his way up the stairs towards his rooms.
He had just made himself comfortable in front of the open fire, a book he wasn't going to read on one side and a bottle of Firewhiskey he was most definitely going to empty on the other, when a knock on his door almost made him drop his tumbler in surprise.
I want to thank everyone who has reviewed so far and who has started following this little series of drabbles. You're awesome! Thank you!