Regrets By THECURSOR I own nothing. Author's Note: I am not an expert at Harry Potter and I'm not English. I don't really know how they do class reunions in England or even if they actually have them at all.

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Draco Malfoy dipped his silver flagon into the punch bowel for the second time and sighed with aggravation. He hated reunions, being forced to watch people he never liked hustling and bustling around a room. Listening to them prattle on and on bout how wonderful their lives had been doing since they graduated. Frankly, if his mother hadn't insisted that he attend this ridiculous affair he wouldn't even have left the house tonight. Of course, it was a little fun seeing who'd lost their hair since they graduated. Neville Longbottom's gleaming dome seemed to shine as living monument to just how unlucky one man could be and Draco had to resist the temptation to rub the poor man's head like genie's lamp.

But aside from that, there was very little fun to be had at the Hogwart's Class Reunion. Draco had only the simple guilty pleasure of watching the effects of time's ravages playing across the faces of his former classmates.

He took a sip of his fruit punch, praying desperately that someone had spiked it since he last had a taste.

"Hasn't something slimy and nasty eaten you yet, Draco?" He didn't need to turn around to know the owner of that distinctive feminine voice; the sound of her intellectual superiority was almost unmistakable. But when he did, he wasn't quite sure if he the voice, the memory, and the face belonged to the same person anymore. The tall, beautiful woman with flowing brown hair and a gorgeous figure certainly didn't look like Hermoine Granger, nor did the knockout black dress from a reputable Muggle designer didn't seem to fit with what he knew of his child hood enemy's personal fashion sense. It was only the eyes and the glasses that covered them that looked liked the little girl he had once known.


Hermoine Granger giggled as she settled herself into a gentle lean on the punch table Draco had been lurking by for most of the night. It was strange seeing her like this after so many years, as memories of the past flooded back to him from the fog of his unconscious. "Hello, Malfoy."

He smirked right back, trying to get back in to the old character she had obviously been expecting to see. "Well, seems you filled out nicely, Mudblood. Guess life among the Muggles agrees with you." He expected a slap in the face. Instead, all he got was an amused Witch who clapped her hands together like a pleased parent. "You remembered my pet name, how sweet!"

"Pet name?"

She looked at her shoes for a moment as she composed the grin on her face before looking back up at him. "Private joke."

"Let me in on it."

"After a while," She started with a sigh, "I pretended that every time you called me Mudblood, it was some kind of secret term of affection." His brow just furrowed with confusion and bewilderment. "Why the bloody hell would do that?"

"Well, right around Seventh year, I started getting a little crush on you."

Draco was floored, his jaw swung open like and hung in space. "YOU had a crush on me?"

She nodded and took another sip of her drink and let his brain wrap around the bomb that just got dropped on him. "I don't know, I guess I just always regretted never telling you."

Hermoine let her eyes hold Draco's, never once letting him even desire to look away or avoid her piercing gaze. There was something enchanting about this new Granger, something irresistible. For what had to have been the first time in his life Draco knew what it was like to be enraptured. So that's why she always smiled at me when I called her that, he mused silently, she wanted me to keep saying it. The look on his face must have given it all away because she smiled wryly and made a cutting remark, "Don't tell me you have regrets too."

"No regrets, Granger."

"Is that your personal philosophy?"

"Death Eater motto." They both couldn't help but laugh at how easy this felt, remembering how much fun they used to have tormenting one another as children. Even after all these years neither one of them had lost their flare for lobbing a well-placed insult at the other. Draco found himself marveling at the knockout combination the ugly little girl he used to tease had turned into, charm and looks all in the same girl. "So how have you been getting on? Shag anyone impressive?" He tried to maintain the bravado, the sneer and the upturned nose but inside he felt it dissolving rapidly.

"Just Ron, Draco." It didn't sound like a snappy comeback, there was no venom in it and the blonde wizard got the distinct feeling this conversation was affecting him more then it was affecting her. And he didn't like how it was affecting him.

"Weasel-ly? The pauper of poofters? That's not impressive, that's disappointing."

Hermoine laughed again, a light airy sound that tickled Malfoy's ears like a pretty song. "I was impressed enough to let him stick a ring on my finger."

"Don't tell me you MARRIED that git!" Draco couldn't help but feel a strange jealousy, an odd desire to find Weasely's oddly shaped face,

And kick it in. Hermoine just nodded and held up her hand, wriggling the ring finger. "Two years." She pointed the index finger on her other hand across the room to a man conversing happily with one of the many old professors who had climbed out of the retirement hole to appear at this miserable affair.

Draco knew the tall and smiling figure could only be Ronald Weasley waving at his bride from across the room. He hadn't changed much over the years, he was still funny looking and red headed, but Malfoy saw the large sweater he was wearing was a little tighter around the midsection. Frankly, even from across the room, he was annoying.

"Looks like I'm being called," Hermoine set down her drink and began walking away from him, "It's nice to see you didn't turn out all that bad, Draco."

"You too." Draco smiled genuinely as he began remembering that the few good times he had, as a boy had been when he was tormenting the beautiful woman standing in front of him. Suddenly Malfoy found himself strangely cherishing and feeling guilty about the memories of Hermoine's wounded look of anger after receiving a particularly vicious barb from his own pale lips. "Hey Granger?" She turned back to look at him and his breath caught in his throat. She really was beautiful.


"I'm glad to see things are going well for you."

A look of surprise briefly crossed Hermoine's face, obviously she still wasn't used to hearing kind words from the infamous Draco Malfoy. Slowly but surely, a wide grin spread across her face and Draco felt a kind of closure with this woman from his past, like the hostilities between them were finally over. "Goodbye, Draco." Hermoine said just before she turned around and faded slowly into the crowded room.

Malfoy sighed as he dipped the cup into the punchbowl once again. He had missed the boat, he was so wrapped up in his own silly prejudices that he never even realized something that had been right under his nose at the Gryffindor table for a whole year. Perhaps if he had then he wouldn't be standing alone at the punch bowl while Ronald Weasely walk away with what had to be the world's best wife. "No regrets." He muttered, this time it wasn't as convincing as before.

The End