Authors Note: My first HP fic, I'm excited. I don't know it anyone even reads Harry Potter anymore, but this was stuck in my head forever and I had to get it out. I have most of this story written already (which is rare for me) because it was so fun to write so updates will probably be pretty frequent.
Background: Ok, so basically pretty much everything that happened in the books happened before this, only it didn't take so long and when the war ended everyone was about seventeen and the epilogue never happened. It's been a year since Harry won against Voltemort. Dumbledore and Snape are alive because I love them and J.K. Rowling is evil for killing them off. I think that's all that's different, but It's been awhile since I read the books, so if I make a mistake with something I'm sorry and just let me know so I can fix it!
Rating: M for language, Draco's dirty mind, and Dramione sex in later chapters.
Rights: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters that inhabit the wizarding word. Or Draco. Sigh. But this story, except from dialogue taken from the book/movie, is all mine. Plagiarism isn't cool, so don't do it.
Summary: Her world was falling apart while his was finally falling together. But neither of them were happy. Magic's funny like that, because sometimes with the right people, and the right circumstances it brings you what you want before you even have to ask.
Alrighty, I think that's about it...Enjoy the story! And Review!
The war had ended, Voltemort had lost and Hermione's world was falling apart. She was a logical girl, knew everything had been going so good lately, and knew it was too good to be true. But no matter how many books she read or spells she learned, Hermione could never force the logics of her brain into her heart.
It was her and Ron's one year anniversary of dating last night. And she had found him in bed with Lavender Brown. The signs were everywhere. His late night Quidditch practices, staying over at Harry and Ginny's all the time, the lying, the drifting apart, why he was never around when she wanted to be with him. He was cheating on her. And his excuse?
"I'm a man Hermione. Men have needs! And if you can't give it to me, I have to find it somewhere!"
Because she wouldn't sleep with him. Because she wanted to wait for everything to die down. Because she wanted to wait until she was at least eighteen. Because she wanted it to be special.
And he wasn't willing to wait. So he cheated with Lavender Brown, told her it was Hermione's own fault, and threatened to leave her if she didn't give it up already. So Hermione left him. And broke his nose. With a lamp, not her fist, but still, she considered it very badass of herself.
She ran out of his apartment that night, tears streaming down her face, wishing she would've had the guts to stick around a moment longer to see his nose shatter into a million pieces, just like her heart.
In the last year, the public population had watched Draco Malfoy put his past behind him and get his life together. Since he had been a minor when the war ended, everyone seemed to be willing to give him a second chance to change before sending him to Azkaban like his father and from day one Draco had taken advantage of that.
Slowly but surely his family name was becoming untarnished with the darkness that had come from being associated with Voltemort. He was on every list for every party and event, even charity. His family business was growing with his new plans and ideas. Everyone had realized the youngest Malfoy really had changed for the better. People liked him again. People respected him. And he was miserable. Because all that was nice and all, but fuck, between cleaning his fathers mess and taking care of his depressed mother he needed to sleep at some point and what was the good of all this if he couldn't share it with someone.
Right now he was at some charity ball for some hospital or another. It was an important cause so he had shown up, but that didn't mean he had to be sober enough to remember the name did it? He was changing his life, but Draco wasn't a saint. He still partied with his friends, drank until he passed out and bed different woman every night, but hey, at least he wasn't breaking any laws. Draco wasn't a saint, but he didn't want to be. Where was the fun in that?
Right now, there was no fun in anything. The richest members of the Wizard society were in attendance and Draco could honestly say they were the most boring people he had ever had the misfortune to fucking meet. Bloody hell. He kind of wished he hadn't left his fork back at the tables because with the way the little old wife of some rich broom maker was going on at him, it looked like it would be weeks before he got out of there and hell, maybe if he stabbed himself in the eye, they would let him leave. He wasn't sober, but he was way too fucking sober for this.
"Draco! So glad you could make it!" A large burly man with a mustache Draco recognized as the president of the hospital board approached him and patted him on the back.
"Me too, Buris," Draco gave the man a tight smile, trying to hide the fact he wished he was anywhere else but here.
"And it's so kind of the new museum to let us have the party here," Buris continued, beaming at the party around him.
"Well, I better find my wife and keep her from the drinks. Have fun, ma boy," Buris winked at Draco before turning to head back the way he had come.
Draco turned, happy to see the broom makers wife was gone, setting down his glass before weaving through the crowd to the hospital board members where he quickly gave them a goodbye and congratulated them on the new building before heading to the nearest back exit. He figured he had stayed fucking long enough, now he just really wanted to go to bed. Once in the back room, Draco lit up the darkness with his wand and made his way through the different artifacts the museum hadn't put on display yet. He had asked before what some of them did or where they had come from, but no one knew, which is why they hadn't displayed them yet. He was to busy trying to find the door that he didn't see the shit cluttering on the floor in front of him. Draco's foot got caught and before he could react, he went flying into the pile of stuff in front of him. Bleeding hell.
Buris was helping his drunk wife across the room when he noticed Draco Malfoy's black robes still on his chair. Poor kid had so much on his plate these days he couldn't even remember his own coat.
Once he handed over his wife to her group of middle-aged gossip hungry friends, Buris went back through the crowd to get the coat before running out the door Malfoy had gone through only minute before. Hoping he could catch the young man before he left, Buris picked up his pace as he heard movement in the dark of the back room and arrived just in time to see the light haired boy trip and fall onto some of the museum artifacts. Angry swearing came next from under the boxes and crates and Buris chuckled.
When no answer came, the older man went over to the pile and pushed the boxes away. Draco Malfoy was gone, and so were the contents of one of the boxes marked danger in bright red ink.
It was like the Gods were laughing at her. Like her life was some long-drawn out pitiful joke. When she had left Ron that night exactly a week ago today, he had said no one else would ever want her. After weeping in her old bedroom in her parent's house and watching Hallmark movies for seven days, Hermione had dried her tears, forced herself from the house and tried to prove Ron wrong. The first store she had come upon was a lingerie store, and suddenly she was walking home with three bright pink bags in her hand with no idea what she was doing.
Maybe if she felt sexy, she'd feel better. She could prove Ron wrong. Only, Hermione had never worn skimpy underwear before, and it made her blush just putting it on.
So there she was, standing in the mirror in a purple and black matching lace bra and panties when she decided the universe actually hated her. Because where there was only air by her bed before, suddenly, there was Draco Malfoy.
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