Hermoine sighed, as she stared at the clock by her bedside for the thousandth time the blur of numbers didn’t even register with her. Later that day she knew she would have to face the humiliation of her co-workers who would be reading the Daily Prophet and find out the awful truth. It would be written on their faces, the pity that they would have for her along with the hushed whispers that would spring up once she walked away. It wasn’t just humiliating for her it was the knowledge that she one who prided herself on being the smartest one of the Golden Trio had missed the obvious that was in front of her. Ron Weasley didn’t love her anymore and had chosen instead an insignificant girl from Hufflepuff that was 4 years his junior! She was deluding herself, clearly, it wasn’t the fact that the woman came from Hulfflepuff (well maybe a little) but rather that she missed the obvious signs that Ron had been cheating on her. Hermoine turned her head to stare up at the creamy rose ceiling of her bedroom, the dull throbbing behind her eyes from unshed tears giving way to an increasingly painful headache. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry and yet there she lay in her bed doing none of those things.
“It will be different tomorrow,” she told herself, “tomorrow things will change.”
Draco ignored the headline news that was his usual routine in favor for the delicious scandal that covered most of the second and third page. There was even a picture of Hermoine standing in a beautiful off shoulder mermaid style wedding dress watching Ron walk away from her with another woman hanging onto his arm. It was the scandal that had been on everyone’s lips when he came into work that morning at the Ministry of Magic. As Minister, Draco took great pains to know everything before it was published in the papers or whispered by those who worked in the Ministry itself. It was how he stayed ahead of the game, ahead of those who would see him fail or yet, have even tried to take away the position that had been hard earned. As he sat there in his black leather chair, it was becoming increasingly clear that an informant had failed at their job and would need to be replaced sooner rather than later as he read on. He made it a point to keep eyes on the Golden Trio since the fall of Lord Voldemort and the increasing fame and power that the Trio held. The power that they welded could easily be used to remove him from his post if that was their intention. The fact that he didn’t know about Ron leaving Hermoine at the alter disturbed him, just as much as she did though those feelings he made sure to never show to anyone. As he picked up his pristine cup of hot Earl Grey tea, he glanced back at the picture of Hermoine standing there at the alter a look of utter heartbreak ruining the rather exquisite picture of beauty she made. It wasn’t until a knock at his door broke him of his reverie into the present, he lowered the page and closed it back to the headline on top of papers that he would rather keep from prying eyes.
“Come in” he said, in a clear controlled voice and with that he took a sip of the now cold beverage in hand.
Hermoine looked out the window to the lovely day that unfolded before her, she knew that outside the day was surprisingly warm for a spring day. Her grey turtleneck sweater was rather uncomfortably warm, with the sun overhead melting away residual snow that hid in the shadows of buildings. She was grateful that she had the foresight to pull her thick chestnut brown hair into a tight bun at the base of her neck the added layer would’ve had her melting in the sweater. How she would kill to have Ginny by her side, but sadly, she knew that her best friend was out again on maternity leave preparing to give birth to her fourth child with Harry. She felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of how happy Ginny was and yet, her own life was painfully empty. She glanced down depressingly at the paperwork of a case she knew she would need to bring to the attention of the Minister. Being a lawyer in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was a fulfilling work for her usually, but today she was listless and couldn’t summon her usual gusto. After lunch, she decided she would go home early and return the next day ready to tackle the increasing number of cases. With a set purpose in mind, Hermoine snatched up her purse and headed out for an early lunch.
Draco watched Hermoine as she strolled out onto the curb, coming to a halt as she waited for traffic to slow down so she could cross the street. Her face was slender, while tendrils of hair escaped the severe bun that held the abundance of hair back to display a pale face. Her eyes were shadowed while her lips, a usual light pink were colorless and the shapeless grey sweater she wore did no justice to the curves that were displayed, while the dark blue jeans were wrinkled and hid the rest of her from view. As she crossed the street, Draco lithely stood up from his window table, and carelessly threw crisp pounds onto the table more than a sufficient amount to cover his tab. He quickened his pace, once outside of the bustling pub, shoving at those obstructed his path on the sidewalk, he couldn’t afford to lose sight of Hermoine in the growing lunch crowd that was looking for appealing restaurant’s to eat a quick meal. He managed to grab hold of Hermoine right before she walked into oncoming traffic harrowingly missing a car that flew around the curb. Draco felt her fall back into him, as they both fell onto cold snow that had yet to melt from the afternoon sun. Hermoine looked up at him with fire in her eyes a quick insult dying suddenly dying on her tongue as she realized who it was that she fell onto.
Draco smiled down at her, “Want to grab a bite to eat?”
Draco calmly untangled himself from the lush curves of Hermoine snapping back into place his suit jacket, then reached down to offer Hermoine his hand. He watched her hesitation, as she glanced back up at him with wide doe eyes. Fear. That was what he saw in their depths a deep fear of him, the unknown, or the circumstances that brought them together he couldn’t say. All the same though, he knew that fear it was the same that plagued him at night and left him waking up to an empty bed with only ghosts for company. Hermoine climbed up to her feet on her own, ignoring his outstretched hand then glanced around the sidewalk for her purse. Draco held out her simple deep blue purse in front of him in the other hand, a smirk warming his face. He could tell she was fighting the urge to frown, instead, she jerked the purse from his hand and muttered a simple.
“Thank you.”
“About my offer,” he began, “I will take your silence as a yes?”
Hermoine stopped her inventory of all the contents of her purse was accounted for to look up at him with growing alarm.
“Minister Malfoy,” she said coldly to him, “my silence means a definite no.”
“You turn down an offer of a free lunch from the man who saved your life?” He asked, as he silently studied the barrage of emotions that flickered across her face until she shut down and gave him only a mask.
“There is no reason for the Minister to take me out for lunch,” she reiterated again “now, if you will be so kind Malfoy I have business to attend to.” With those words she whipped around the corner heading back for the office, while silently berating herself for taking an early lunch. Ignoring the curious onlookers who watched, Draco followed Hermoine while the sea of people moved out his way like water for fear of incurring his infamous anger. Yet, as muggles mixed in with the magical community Draco lost her in the ever growing crowd, though that didn’t matter to him since he knew where she would go back to. For a moment he stood there remembering the feel of her in his arms before he let out a deep breath and walked on with a renewed purpose.
Hermoine shut the department door behind her with a resounding click, and walked through the deserted cubicles towards her own office that was the last door. Her simple black flats made no sound on the lush black carpet that had recently been installed and caused an uproar with the witches that cleaned the floors that was an unending source of enjoyment for Hermoine. She opened her door and dumped her purse by the door before slamming the door behind her and placing her forehead on the cool stained mahogany.
“Too warm for a sweater isn’t it?” Came the cool question from behind her, Hermoine spun around to find Draco draped elegantly in her favorite tattered arm chair. His black patent shoes glistened under the sunlight that streamed in from the window by her desk as they rested carelessly on top of her casework. His black suit jacket unbuttoned revealing a starched white shirt and pants that bore not even one wrinkled hung just right around his lower waist. That part of him Hermoine was doing her best to ignore, she knew what kind of women Malfoy cared for and knew that she was too short and chubby to make the cut.
“Minister,” she began while trying to fight the urge to smack his shoes off of her desk “is there a specific reason as to why you are in my office?”
“These files Ms. Granger were supposed to be on my desk this morning,” Draco replied, Hermoine blanched as she realized that he was right.
“Minister Malfoy, I am sorry that I haven’t had a chance to yet finish the processing for the case load.” She stated, then slowly walked to stand in front of her desk and waited for Draco to make the next move. He didn’t fail to catch her off guard, by throwing down the Daily Prophet by his shoes the pages turned to the scandalous article about Ron and her. She could feel the pressure mounting behind her eyes and yet, still no tears, still no emotion.
“Y’know must women would be crying, they would be at home in their nightwear and eating buckets of ice cream,” Draco said softly, his gaze held no trace of pity that she could see.
“I’m not that kind of woman,” she reassured him more so for herself, “I don’t break that easily.”
“I figured that out a long time ago,” he whispered, slowly he removed his feet from her desk and stood up gracefully to face here. Hermoine felt smaller as she realized that Draco had grown taller over the years, and there he stood gazing down at her.
“What do you want Hermoine? What do you do now that the pieces have crumbled around you?” He asked her, moving around the desk to stand by her, her heard her breath hitch as he pulled at the bun until it unraveled to cascade down her back.
“I pick up the pieces,” she whispered her voice breaking on the last word while tears clouded her vision and yet she leaned into him until she felt the smooth lapels of his jacket.
“Don’t pick them up Hermoine,” Draco said and he pulled her closer to him until his face was smothered in her thick hair.
“What do I do then?” She asked, her voice muffled as she cried silently into his starched white shirt. Grabbing a handful of her hair, Draco tugged her back until he could see her face.
“Create a new life,” he said, “create it with me.” He watched her face, the light in her eyes that shimmered in the light with a brilliance he knew so well in the few fights that they had had over past cases.
“No” Hermoine said to him, “I don’t want you.”
“I don’t want you.” Those words still echoed in his ears, every time he opened his eyes to gaze up at his ceiling. His knuckles were bloody and bruised after the beating he gave them while punching holes throughout his otherwise immaculate room. The rich black satin cover lay in a rumpled mass at the base of Draco’s bed, while the sheet hugged his hips covering his lower body in a tangled mess. His hair lay mussed from his tossing and turning, while it hurt to move his hands he welcomed the pain as he moved hair out of his eyes. He replayed the moment over and over again, the way Hermoine had untwined his hands from her thick hair and walked to the door. She had opened it, while looking steadily at the ground a clear indication that he was meant to leave. He had smooth the lapels of his suit in an unconscious attempt to stall until he could think of some way to win her over. After a long pause of silence, when nothing came to his mind, he had swept out of the room with all the dignity he could muster. It was then he had to face the startled faces, of those who had come back from lunch early and was surprised to see him in their department. After nodding to this and that person he had left the department and made his way back to his own office. The room had felt too stifling too closed in, thus, he had taken the rest of the day off, leaving his assistant in an uproar to try and reschedule meetings for the next day.
The next day…
Draco sat in a room with other heads of prestigious pure blood pedigree families, some that had dwindled in power and others whose star was beginning to shine brightly. The room was utilitarian, there hung on the walls no decorations the off white color reminded Draco of the doctor’s office that he visited just days ago. He glanced around at the other heads, who by far were older than him but gave him warm smiles nonetheless. The power of the Malfoy name was still as formidable as ever, Draco had worked hard to make sure it stayed that way after Harry saved his life those many years ago. He watched the hands of the only clock in the room, which hung on the wall directly across from him. Each second to him seemed an eternity, the feeling he could assume was mutual with the others that fidget in their cushioned black leather chairs. The door closets to Draco’s right opened to admit Blaise Zabini who held open the door for an aged man into the room that Draco knew to be his father. They both shared the same olive hue, while the older gentleman’s hair more white than the original it once was there was lack of emotion in his eyes. It was his eyes that Draco hated the most, it reminded him too much of Voldemort that calculating look that lacked human emotion to add to the character of his face. What the father lacked Blaise compensated for it with a warmth and gentility that Draco knew was a gift from his mother. The two gentlemen grabbed the vacant seats next to Draco and nodded in acknowledgement to him, which he returned in kind. As soon as the two were settled, again the door opened to allow in six doctors varying in age and gender. They had the same confident air that doctors possessed and moved with purpose while each of their faces held a certain grim determination that was obvious from the hard flint in their eyes and the press of their mouths.
A middle aged woman stepped forward, her skin just beginning to show the signs of time but her eyes were clear and warm. Her mouth bore a slight frown while worries lines creased her forehead as her brows drew together. Her hair mostly grey was pulled back into a sever bun that left no tendrils to soften the features of her face. The white coat that contained her stethoscope was immaculate with no crease in sight, while her name was in sewn in elegant writing above her heart. Dr. Kieran, Draco knew her on sight as being one of the leading doctors who happened to be one of the few muggles that knew of magical world.
She cleared her throat before she spoke staring down each person who sat at the table before her.
“You as the representatives of the witches and wizards of the magical realm are facing an unseen problem. A problem that must be rectified as soon as you see fit.”
“Which would be?” Draco asked, waiting for the bomb to drop.
“Your race is dying out.”
A couple of months later….
The lights shone with a brilliance that was second only to the light of a true star, their sparkle lit the ballroom and its entirety. The Ministry of Magic outdone itself with the annual Christmas party, the employees showed that they could dress to the nine for the occasion. Everywhere the beauty of the ballroom was admired, the coveted invitation to the Malfoy Manor was the highlight of year. The enormous tree that reached the dome ceiling was decorated with care. Each decoration had an employee’s name on it as their gift to collect at the end of the evening. There was also presents under the tree that held each employee’s year-end bonus that was eyed by more than a few. Others wandered through the maze that was lit to perfection, and to those that found themselves at the end were rewarded with hot cider. The gentle snow that lazily came down in a slow dance was a perfect back drop to the beautiful Christmas tree, and the wall of glass windows that gave an uninterrupted view of the snowfall.
Hermoine stood alone on the second floor that overlooked the ballroom, a delicate flute of champagne rested precariously on the edge of the rail in front of her. Glitters of magic surrounded the glass, making it dance on the edge while Hermione’s hand slowly danced around in time to its motions. Her gaze lost in the swirls of the liquid that drew closer and closer to the glass’ edge. She was trying her best not to look down in the crowd, she knew her eyes would come to rest on the top of Draco’s head. She knew that she would feel a pang of jealousy, if she had to watch Astoria running her fingers through his hair for the thousandth time. She was already sorely tempted to put a hex on Astoria, just to satisfy the raging jealousy that she was so desperately trying not to show.
“Why bother to come if you won’t dance?” A deep seductive voice asked from behind her, it was tinged with a Welsh accent that made her toes curl. Hermoine turned slowly to meet the slow smile of Blaise Zabini, who stood tall and imposing. His olive hue brought out the luminous hazel of his eyes, while brown highlights in his midnight black hair caught the light that came from the massive chandelier that hung from the dome ceiling. His black dress robes held the colors of House Slytherin where he had had lived in when they had attended Hogwarts.
“Attendance, I thought it was mandatory for at least one of the Golden Trio to be in attendance. Or else we wouldn’t get our bonus,” she replied, trying to fill the silence between them.
“Ahh, of course” he murmured coming closer to her, “so it was just the money that made you came.” Hermoine blushed at his statement. “I came because I wanted to as well,” she felt the need to add “it is a lovely party.”
Blaise looked to his left and then slowly turned his head to the right, “but you brought no one to enjoy it with.” He stated, “A lovely party must beg a plus one to truly enjoy the festivities.”
Hermoine blushed even more at the comment, it was true she knew and yet, it had always been Ron who had been her plus one to events such as this. Yet, there she stood alone in a ballroom jealously watching a man that she had rebuffed months ago, while he danced the night away with another. Blaise took pity at the insecure look that was written on her face. He moved closer to her, so that no other couples could hear them that watched from nearby.
“He isn’t here y’know, they say that he left with Harry on another assignment a couple of nights ago.” She smiled weakly at his attempt to comfort her.
“Is it still wrong of me to miss a man who left me for another?” She asked him, while her eyes grew luminous with unshed tears. Blaise slowly shook his head, “heartbreak is rarely cured in a short time, but it can be forgotten for a moment or two.”
Hermoine breathed out slowly, trying to avoid ruining her makeup “and how does one forget heartbreak for only just a moment?” Blaise smiled genuinely down at her.
“With dancing.”
Draco watched silently as Blaise gracefully turned Hermoine around the dance floor, their movements so in sync that to all others it would seem as though the couple had been dancing for ages. Hermoine looked exquisite in a white silk dress that looked molded to her body, the straps hung off of her shoulders exposing the lightly tanned skin that usually was hidden. The heart shape bodice did wonders for her chest, while her hair had grown longer in the months, to fall around her in a silky cloud. A silver bracelet in the shape of vines went up one of her arms while little silver drops of diamonds were her only adornments in her ears. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and it angered him to no end that Blaise had found her hidden amongst the crowd. Draco hadn’t been able to find a way to leave Astoria’s clingy grasp for a moment and regretted ever asking her to accompany him. He knew that the gossip on everyone’s lips would be wondering when he will propose to Astoria at the rate of the looks that were shot his way.
“It would seem as though Blaise has found a new plaything,” Astoria murmured to Draco “but why have the bits that someone else has thrown away?”
He glanced down at Astoria, trying to keep the simmering anger under control, while she stood still staring with what seemed to be jealousy in her eyes. Draco knew that with the looming news in the back of his mind, he should give Astoria a chance, a chance to help their people and protect a way of life from dying out and leaving nothing but stories to be told to muggle children. Yet, with every look that he gave Astoria, she paled even more in comparison to the one who radiated all he wanted and desperately needed. The few people that were talking to Draco and Astoria turned to admire the couple that led the waltz around the room.
In that moment Draco felt the pain again. Of disappointment, a lost opportunity that danced away the night in another’s arms.
“Everyone is looking at us,” Hermoine whispered, as her eyes darted around the room while slowly bodies turned to gaze at them.
Blaise chuckled as he spun her out and back to him, “let them look” he replied calmly back to her.
“I have something far more beautiful to gaze upon.” Hermoine sharply looked up at him, while a light blush dusted her creamy cheeks. As the music fell silent, the gathered crowd applauded them and soon the floor was packed with others who wished to copy that magical spell that Blaise and Hermoine had woven. Blaise stepped away from her while brushing his lips against the knuckles of her hand, his eyes held humor and a longing that Hermoine did her best to ignore. Hermoine bowed her head to him, and gathered the train of dress trying her best to walk away gracefully as she had seen it done in all the romantic movies she’d watched. Until at last, she made her way to back to the table that bore her name in an elegant sweeping script. A glass of champagne waited for her, the condensation slowly dripping down the slender chute. As her hand closed around it, she felt an arm enclose around her waist tugging her to move backwards. Hermoine dropped the glass instinctively and whipped around, pinning the arm to her side by closing her arms on it and prepared to break the elbow joint. She stopped there on the ground before sat Draco as he watched her prepare to destroy his arm.
“I-I-I am so sorry Minister,” Hermoine stuttered her apology as she slowly released his arm from her hold. Draco recovered himself, stretching out the arm and bending it slowly to ease out the kinks all the while watching her as she sank down to the ground before him. Her dress pooling around her, while she watched him with worry in her eyes and tension causing her body to be stiff as she waited for a tongue lashing.
Draco surprised her instead, “are you attracted to him?” He questioned, his eyes searching her face while there she could see a hint of fear. The same fear that she knew had been mirrored on her face an hour or so ago.
“I could ask the same of you with Astoria.” He smirked at her response.
“Astoria is nothing more than a decoration on my arm,” he whispered, he slowly extended a hand out to her. While his eyes never left her face, the tension in her body slowly draining away, a smile replacing the stoic expression she held a few minutes prior.
“We can’t do this Draco,” she whispered, refusing the offered hand “it will ruin our working relationship” she continued as he moved closer still her.
“Fuck our working relationship, give me another reason to stay away,” he replied vehemently, “I will have you.”
“You’re a pure blood, I am a mud blood.” She said, looking at him as she placed her hand in his and felt his hand enclose her own. Her breath hitched as he slowly pulled her to him, uncaring of her dress or his robes, he needed to feel her at last in his arms.
“What is the worst Hermoine? What is the worst that could happen?” Draco whispered, as he bent his head lower to kiss.
At once, the lights went out, a collective cry went up as the party goers wondered what could’ve caused the sudden blackout.
Hermoine felt Draco’s arms tighten around her, as they both turned cautious waiting, prepared to fight should a threat come to face them. As little candles began to dance around in the center of the ballroom beckoning all to come closer, Draco realized that it was time for the entertainment to start. He relaxed his hold on Hermoine still refusing to let her go.
“Draco,” whispered she “you really must let me be.”
In the dim light offered by the floating light of the flickering candle, Draco could just make out the soft curves of her face.
“You don’t understand what is at stake Hermoine.” He replied softly, “How much I need you.”
Hermoine shuddered, she fought down that hunger the aching emptiness in the pit of her stomach that yearned for him. She knew what it meant to trust and she had learned the hard way what happens with that trust.
“No” she said defiantly, Hermoine tried to push herself out of Draco’s arms but he held on tightly to her.
“I won’t let you go again dammit” he growled, pulling her closer to him until she was flushed up against his body.
“I’m not him!” he snarled staring straight into her eyes, he wrapped his fingers around her shoulders and gave her a little shake. Hermoine saw the desperation in the depths of his eyes, it outshone the lust that she knew always dwelled within them.
“Draco” she whispered, “what are you not telling me?”
“That above all else, I wish you were mine.” He replied, framing the curves of her face in between his hands, his thumb gently caressing the soft contours of her lips. Gently, he held her thus while his fingers brushed the features of face committing them to memory. Just in case he lost his plight, the memory would be all he had. He watched as slowly Hermoine relaxed in his hands briefly closing her eyes as he ran his fingertips across her eyelids. With touch so soft, he gave her the gentlest of kisses, before giving her what she asked for. He let her go and watched for a moment, with her eyes still closed, and her hands reaching out searching for him. Then, mustering the last remnants of his self-control he walked away from her and piece of heaven that she was to him.
Hermoine opened her eyes to see Draco walk away from her, it was what she wanted after all. For him to leave her alone and yet it hurt to watch him walk away. But, she knew that eventually he would marry Astoria it was quite obvious to all those in attendance that they would be the next power couple to rule. Hermoine gathered up her dress and prepared to leave ballroom, she wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up with Crookshanks while devouring her weight in cookies. Yet, as she came closer to her table it appeared that someone was sitting there occupying one of the seats. For a brief moment her heart sped up as she could assumed the person sitting there to be Ron, but that’s right he had left her for another (damn Hufflepuff). Blaise turned to give her a smile and nodded to the glass that was obviously meant for her.
“I assumed you might need something a little stronger than champagne,” he stated smoothly before taking a long sip from his flute. Hermoine dropped unceremoniously into seat uncaring that it wasn’t graceful or suave.
“You have no bloody idea,” she replied, and yet there the glass stood before her untouched. It wasn’t until Blaise wiped away from her cheek did she realize that she had even been crying.
“How about a ride home love?” He asked her gently, and ignoring the warning bells going off in her head she managed a weak.
“Yes.”
Hermoine woke up slowly, coming out of the dreamy state of sleep to alertness as the alarm clock by her bed continued to make a ruckus until an arm moved past her shoulder and hit it in numerous attempts until it went silent. Hermoine gasped, and jumped out of the bed hitting the floor with a hard smack only to back herself up against the wall and watch as a very undressed Blaise sat up slowly to watch her. A satisfied Cheshire cat grin stretched across his face as he took her.
“Good morning. “