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A/N: Alrighty, here's the much pleaded for Draco and Hermione action everyone's been wanting . . . And I will admit to this . . . this entire chapter was written for L! It might not be satisfactory, but it's the best I could give to Draco. :-) And this is the end . . . (The lack of closure with Lavender deliberate).
He had been thinking, which was always a bad idea when on the verge of drunkenness, but he was doing more than just thinking – he was thinking about her. Thinking about the events of the last few days and how they all centered on her, they were all for her, and now she was his, or so the rumors said.
He tipped back his head and downed a shot when the tiny tinkling of the bell sounded. He knew it was her before she had even sat down, claiming the barstool beside him and ordering a Butterbeer.
"You look like you've had a hard week," she commented, noticing his haggard appearance. "Classes haven't even begun yet."
"That's just a polite way of saying I look like sh-"
"Draco!" she admonished with a smile.
He smiled too, reluctantly, not sure she even deserved his smiles anymore. Something shiny flickered and caught his eye; one good look at her hand confirmed the rumors.
"I err – heard the . . . good news. Congratulations," he said, almost believing his own sincerity.
"I – I wanted to tell you in person . . ." she said carefully, observing him warily for a negative reaction. He mistook this as pity.
"Why tell me in person? To lessen the blow? Do you think by telling me with your own voice, with your own eyes, that it would make it all easier – think that you could come here, get everything off your chest and then go home, happy and with a clean conscience? 'S that why?" He was suddenly angered by her presence, the brutality evident in his cold voice, the voice he used to adopt so freely, the voice he now reserved when he felt particularly threatened.
She looked hurt despite her efforts to mask it. Not able to handle her emotions as well as his own, he left the pub abruptly. Hermione followed him outside where he stood looking down the street, unsure of where to go but certain that he did not want to go home . . . alone.
"Draco, you can't leave it like this!" she said.
"What is there to say, Hermione? You're getting married to another bloke! I said 'congratulations', what more do you want? Do you want me to say that I'm happy for you? 'S that it? Well I won't lie, Hermione. I'm not happy for you. 'S that what you want?" He wiped the spit from his chin angrily; angry at her, angry at the way the alcohol made him slur, but mostly angry at her.
A light drizzle began, abnormal for the time of year but suitable for the evening; it wet the pavement while the sky gave promise of more, as if the world could predict the storm inside of him. Draco laughed in spite of himself.
"It doesn't have to be like this. We can – we can still be –"
"Friends? We can still be friends? I don't know if I would like that, to be honest. My life was a lot different before you Hermione and –"
"That's not fair Malfoy –"
"– I didn't say it was better . . . just different – and who are you to speak of fair? You're running off and getting married, you don't know the meaning of unfair!" He knew this wasn't true but felt satisfied when he said it anyway. It felt good – this release – letting everything go while the rain washed away the walls he built around her.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this . . ." Her voice was weak and unsure. She looked lost, with her hair wet and limp beside her face, like a stray kitten caught in a storm too big.
"How was it supposed to be? You and me? Let's see . . . We met under the wrong circumstances; we met too late; he saw you first; I never stood a chance; it wasn't mean to be – take your pick, which ever one will help you sleep at night . . . But think about this: it, whatever 'it' is, 's what you make of it. However it's 'supposed' to be is however you want it to be, you decide . . . you . . . It doesn't matter though. 'S not like you and I ever – Well, it doesn't matter."
He admired her courage. She stood there, drenched but unyielding to the rain, staring at him, never daring to look away or wipe away the tears. He adored how she refused to let him weaken her but hated her for it all the same. If he could just make her hate him, then he wouldn't hurt so much . . .
"Draco Malfoy!" she said with alarming strength. "Don't you think for one minute that I don't care for you. You are special to me and I won't let you throw it away because of one heart break."
"You flatter yourself, Hermione," he held his chin high and condescendingly. "You didn't break my heart . . ." Much, he added privately. If he could just make her hate him . . .
"You are a fool Draco."
"Better a fool than a mu –"
Her eyes widened in anticipatory shock.
"– married fool," he finished somewhat lamely. He just couldn't say it, he didn't mean it.
She threw her hands up into the air and sighed in defeat. "I don't know why I even bothered. I thought you'd rather hear it from me than through a rumor around town, but clearly I was mistaken. Draco Malfoy, your selfishness amazes me still!" Hugging herself to keep warm, the timid kitten morphed into a bitter alley cat, eyes fierce with indignation toward the unforgiving Tom Cat.
Draco was incredibly saddened that he was successfully alienating her.
She turned on her heel and began to walk away. He watched her until just before she disappeared around the corner, certain that she would come back directly with her second wave of attack.
He called out to her, surprised when she didn't stop talking. Musing over how much he had worn off on her, he caught up to her still walking form. He fell into step with her and into mutual silence; he stuffed his hands in his pocket, a trait he picked up in order to restrain his wand arm when in certain company. Now the trait was a tell-tale sign of his longing to speak but hesitancy to do so.
"Well?" She said impatiently, still walking.
"I told – I told you once that I loved you and would wait for you. Well I have – waited – but . . . you never came. You've chosen him and I . . . I have to respect that." He grimaced, then continued: "But I suppose . . . I guess I'm upset that I'll never know what it's like to –"
She stopped.
"– Well, that doesn't matter anymore . . ."
"No, what were you going to say? You said you'll never know what it's like to – what? Like to what?"
Her eagerness was not lost on Draco, who was a natural born opportunist. "To kiss you," He said bluntly, looking her straight in the eye.
She fidgeted under his stare, biting her bottom lip in a subconscious gesture Draco had grown to love. She looked nervously up and down the now deserted sidewalk.
She looked back at him and in a rush decision, grabbed his shoulders, and on tip toe, kissed him.
Without missing a beat, he pulled her close and for a few short moments, kissed her with the possession of a man in love.
They pulled apart, both licking their lips to savor the last remnants of each other. She was flushed and regret was quickly crossing her features.
"Don't," he whispered, "don't regret it."
She nodded, knowing she could trust him to keep a secret, but the guilty blush of hypocrisy was still evident on her face.
He pulled her into a hug, memorizing her as best he could while he still had her in his arms. She sighed into him, speaking into his shoulder, the muffled words reaching his ears with such clarity as if spoken unhindered beside his ear. "If there was no Ron . . ."
"I know . . . love," he answered. "Concerning this life, you will be the only thing in which I come in second to Ron Weasley."
She chortled into his chest and hit him softly on his arm.
"Draco!" she cried suddenly. "We're going to get pneumonia out here! Come on, I'll buy you a drink." The smile on her tear stained face washed by the rain illuminated even the dark street on which they stood and Draco could not help but follow her back to the pub, even though all he wanted was to go home and relive the last few minutes forever. It was the only time in his life where he had pretended she was his and where she had done the same.
The only time when he had wanted the girl and she had wanted him.
Fin
