A love bloomed

It's a Saturday. But it's not just a Saturday, it's the Saturday. The day of the wedding; her wedding. The day he gives her up, once and for all. But instead of dressing in his finest robes and going bright and early to ensure that everything is as it should be, like he had originally planned, he's sitting back on his fine leather couch, sipping tea and eating a bowl of his favourite cereal. His plans now, as luck should have it, are to forgo the wedding entirely.

He lifts his legs, placing his feet on the top of the coffee table when his fireplace rumbles. The blonde groans, knowing it could be a number of people come to yell at him and demand why he isn't where he should be. He should've blocked the Floo today.

Potter emerges from the green flames, brushing the soot from his shoulders as he walks into the living room. "You need to clean your fireplace."

"I'll get right on that," Draco mutters sarcastically, turning his attention back to his Saturday morning cartoon on the television.

"Why aren't you dressed?"

"I'm sure you can figure that out for yourself Potter, surely you aren't that stupid."

Harry rolls his eyes. "You're making a mistake you know. She'll never forgive you if you don't go-"

"Well forgive me Potter, but she hasn't talked to me in weeks. How should I know that she even still wants my company?"

The raven haired man scoffs then, folding his arms over his chest. "This isn't about you being under the impression that she doesn't want you to be there because you know full well that she wants you there. This is about you, and the fact that you don't want to watch her marry someone else."

"And so what if it is Potter? Why do you care?"

"Because I care about Hermione. And if you truly cared for her, you'd put aside your own selfishness and go to her wedding because she wants you to be there," Harry tells him.

"I care about her Potter, more than you'll ever know. But I can't sit there and watch her make a mistake-"

"I'll disregard that you just said that because Ron is my friend. But even if she is making a mistake, it's her mistake to make, not yours."

Draco rolls his eyes and then glares at the man standing before him. "What do you get out of coming here then, Potter?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to make sure that you know that if you don't show up, she'll never forgive you."

That's all Potter says before he leaves.

That's all Potter has to say.

A half drunken cup of tea, half a bowl of cereal and a blaring television are left Draco's wake.


He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be going to see her at all, let alone in the privacy of her own room, just hours before she says 'I do' to somebody else. He should just take his seat on her side of the guest list and be done with it. Surely she'd see him sitting in the front row, next to her parents. Right?
But nevertheless, here he is making his way toward the room at the end of the hall. The bridal quarters. He takes a deep breath before turning the handle and pushing the door open. There, across the room, stands a beautiful bride, dressed in an equally (but not nearly as important) white gown. Her back is to him as she looks out the window, gazing at the vast country side the Burrow has to offer. His stomach drops with an imaginary thud and his heart beats into overtime as he walks in quietly so as not to disturb her. He closes the door behind him, and she must hear the lock click into place because she spins around to face him, her curls blowing behind her. She blinks, surprised to see him. He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Hey..."

"Hi..." she whispers back, smiling softly.

"You look...you look beautiful," he murmurs.

"Thanks." She tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear-and is that blush on her cheeks or her cheeks blushing?

"So I wasn't gonna come today," he admits, walking closer to her. "For...obvious reasons. But you've got a good friend in Potter-and a convincing one at that. He truly cares about you. And he made me realize that I care about you and your happiness more than I care about mine. I care about you more than I love you."

Her eyes are wet with tears and when one escapes he wants nothing more than to reach out and wipe it away, but he keeps his hands (and lips) to himself.

"But I can't stay. I came here to tell you that I want you be happy, I want you to do what makes you happy. And if marrying Weasley makes you happy then do it. I'll be here after, just as I've been here before but I can't...I can't watch it happen."


"Because as much as I care…I can't force myself to-"

"No, why do you love me?" she asks softly, looking up at him with curious, thoughtful eyes.

"I can't answer that," he mutters.

"I deserve to know, don't you think?"

"I can't answer because I don't know. I don't know why I love you. I don't know how I love you," he admits softly. "But I do know that you make me wild and crazy in the best way. I know that when I'm with you I feel like I can do anything I want to do and be anything I want to be. I want to be a better person because of you. I want to be someone you can be proud of, someone you can confide in. You make me happy without even trying and I want nothing more than for you to be happy. I want you to laugh and smile all the time because I love them both. And I never want you to cry because I hate it. You've been tugging at my heartstrings for years, Granger. I just hadn't realized it."

She smiles weakly, through the silent tears slipping down her cheeks. And this time he can't refrain from wiping them away, brushing her cheek with his thumb. And then suddenly he's leaning in and he hears her breath catch in her throat as he presses his lips to her temple. "Be happy Granger."

He leaves then, without another word or a second glance. Had he looked back he might've seen her reaching for him.


He fucking hates his life. And he fucking hates the stupid Weasel for ruining his life. And he fucking loathes himself for going and falling in love with someone he had no business falling in love with.

He's currently in the middle of throwing things around his flat, releasing all of his pent up anger and frustrations. She'll be married in ten minutes. Ten minutes and she'll belong wholeheartedly to another man. And it hurts, so fucking much. He feels as though he's going to throw up and stop breathing all the same time. And he vows, from this day forward, to never let another woman weasel (no pun intended) her way into his fucking heart again. Ever. Never, ever, again.

The doorbell rings and he pauses, mid-pitch of the TV remote. He groans, tossing it gently on the couch before stumbling over a variety of other items he'd decided to throw across the room towards the front door. And when he opens it his heart stop entirely. His stomach jumps into his throat and it's like someone's knocked the wind right out of him.

Looking back him, with glassy eyes and mascara streaks down her cheeks, clad in her white wedding gown and perfectly curled hair, is Hermione Granger. He takes a moment to look her up and down, notices the absence of the wretched ring on her finger, and pinches himself before he lets out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Hermione, what...what are you doing here?"

"I hate you," she whispers. Her voice is barely audible, but then he doesn't need to hear her because it's written all over her face. She stalks past him, pushing him to the side and slamming the door shut. "I fucking hate you, Draco Malfoy!"


"You-you selfish, self-centered little...man! Why couldn't you just keep your feelings to yourself like a normal man? Why'd you have to go and ruin everything?"

"What are you talking about?" he asks incredulously.

"You ruined everything! I was perfectly fine thinking that you didn't have feelings for me. I was perfectly happy marrying Ron and living happily ever after with him and then you go and..." she trails off, breathing heavily as she searches for the right words. "I left my fiancé and my family because of you," she mutters, more to herself than anything.

"I'm sorry...because of me? Why?" he wonders, confused. Surely she didn't mean... No, no she's probably just so angry at him that she had to postpone the ceremony so that she could come and bite his head off in private.

"Because...because I love you. I left my fiancé at the alter because I love you…"

He blinks. "You...you what..?"

"I love you, you imbecile! God...I..." she trails off, pacing the length of his living room while holding the bottom of her dress up off the floor so that she doesn't trip over it.

He watches her, hesitantly. He still isn't sure if he's hearing her correctly, or if it's his mind playing tricks on him. "I don't understand, Granger..."

"Neither do I," she admits softly, stopping to look at him. Her eyes are full of fear and passion. And love. "I don't get it either. I don't get why when you said that you loved me I felt all warm and gooey inside. I don't get why when you kissed me a few weeks ago it was like I was flying and falling at the same time. All I've been able to think about is you and when I would see you again and if I would see you again and...and I think a part of me wanted you to stop me. I wanted you to stop me from marrying Ron... And even though you didn't stop me in so many words, you stopped me and... Merlin, Draco, say something," she begs.

He grabs her around the waist, pulling her body flush against his. "Marry me," he whispers, pressing his forehead against hers.


"Marry me. Run away with me, right now. Let's get hitched, start a brand new life-"

"Whoa, whoa...slow down," she tells him softly. "I can't...I can't marry you, right now. I don't even know what this is, or what it means-"

"I'm willing to find out," he whispers, his grey eyes searching her brown ones.

"Me too," she whispers back.

He grins, kissing her passionately and hungrily, like a starved man in a desert. She giggles when she pulls back and his lips follow hers, begging for more.

"This is crazy," she laughs. "We're crazy."

"Yes, well, I for one have never been happier."

She smiles, tightening her arms around his shoulders. "Me either."