Seven Years and a Day (DM/HG, PG-13) Part 5/6
Title: Seven Years and a Day
Main pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Rating: T / PG-13
Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance
Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Daphne Greengrass
Timeline: 7 years after the war, not canon compliant
Warnings: Adultery, References to major character death
Disclaimer: I do not claim any rights to J. K. Rowling's intellectual property.
Summary: Seven years later, the world is nothing like they had hoped or imagined. They have accepted it, or at least, that is what everybody believes. But nobody can deny the truth forever.
Beta reader: dormiensa. She is amazing.
Link to Part 1 (including a more extensive A/N) ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4
He had tried to get out of going but had been sorely unsuccessful. Blaise had told him in no uncertain terms that the price his wife would make him pay for not ensuring Draco's presence was high enough to warrant an abduction, if need be. Draco had no doubt that his friend was serious. At times, Ginny could be terrifying. Besides, he suspected that this dinner party had something to do with his birthday. He had told everyone that he did not plan to celebrate it-he was turning twenty-five, so what? He was hardly in a mood to party, but it seemed that his friends had decided to do something, anyway. While it was the day before, they could hardly throw a party on a Sunday night when everybody had to work the next day. So, it was Saturday, and Draco was forced to go, no matter how much he would have preferred to stay at home and mope all day.
What he dreaded the most, however, was not the thought of a birthday party, but the fact that the date coincided with the end of the seven year period for the marriages of the Twilight peace. Seven years ago, he had gotten a forced marriage for his eighteenth birthday, and that had tainted the date for him ever since. What it meant this year was that on Monday, first thing in the morning, Hermione would be filing for divorce. With both their signatures on the paperwork, the matter might be settled in a matter of days. He had not seen her in over a week, and he did not want to see her now. Yet, if Ginny was in such a tyrannical mood, it was almost certain that Hermione would be there.
So, it was rather unenthusiastically that he Flooed to Blaise and Ginny’s home that night, with a bottle a sherry as a present. Everybody else was already there; he had made no special effort to arrive early, and he was actually a little bit late. In addition to the hosts, there were Pansy and Ron, Theo and Luna, and even Daphne and Neville. And Hermione, of course. He received birthday greetings from all of them, though nobody ever said that that was what the evening was for. Apparently, they had decided to pretend ignorance, as if it was just happenstance that they were all together tonight. That way, he could not accuse them of throwing him the party he had said he did not want. Clever. When it came to plots and schemes, Blaise and Ginny were a fearsome pair indeed.
He was forced to admit, however, that some of his apprehension had been unfounded. Once he let himself relax a little, he found that he was having an enjoyable evening. Seeing Pansy was especially nice, for they had rarely been spending any time together lately. She was usually too busy with her children or too tired to go out, and he had been swamped with work, not to mention feeling depressed about his divorce. Chatting with her, along with Blaise, Theo, and Daphne, he almost felt like he was back in the Slytherin common room, only with a few Gryffindor and Ravenclaw intruders added into the mix. They reminisced about the good old days and shared news of common acquaintances. Even seeing Hermione was not as bad as he had dreaded. She was not nearly as distant as he had feared, and they had a nice little conversation at some point about work and other things. It felt so good to talk to her again. He was probably being incredibly pathetic, but he was willing to take that over nothing.
After dinner, they sat in the living room and Blaise brought out drinks-with a non-alcoholic beverage for Pansy-and then Ginny said, “Let’s play a game!”
“Poker?” Draco suggested. He liked poker. He was rather good at it. Theo was one of the few people who managed to beat him with a fair amount of regularity, but with so many others, he was feeling rather confident.
“Sorry, but I don’t feel like losing all my money,” Blaise grimaced. He was not nearly as good at the game.
“We could play for the fun of it,” Draco suggested. “Only Sickles and Knuts.” It would not be nearly as entertaining, of course. But it seemed that it was not meant to be.
“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of a drinking game,” Ginny said. “One of the kinds Muggles play at parties. Pansy would be exempt, of course,” she added with a smile in the other woman’s direction. “If you don’t mind, Pansy.”
“Oh, not at all,” Pansy replied. “I’ll have lots of fun watching the rest of you get drunk. I’ll make sure to remember everything you said and tell your children about it.”
That made everybody laugh, if a little nervously. And then, just like that, they started. The game was a little strange and not what Draco would have chosen if they had asked him, but Ginny was enthusiastic about it, Pansy and Blaise supported her, and the others just went along with it. It was called “I never”. One of her Quidditch teammates, who was a Muggle-born, had taught it to their whole team, and they had had a great time playing it. Draco was starting to understand why Blaise kept a stash of Morning-after Potions in his home.
It started innocently enough. One by one, a person stated something he or she had never done, and everybody who had done that thing would have to take a drink. Ginny was very strict on the fact that nobody could lie and had even threatened to put Veritaserum in their drinks if she suspected that they were cheating. Draco did not know what mixing Veritaserum with alcohol would yield, but he thought it wise not to try. The first few rounds were rather subdued, but as their comfort level increased along with their blood alcohol, the statements started getting less proper and more intrusive.
To Draco’s surprise, Neville was one of the first to cross the line of political correctness when he announced, “I never had a problem getting it up,” with a completely straight face. Draco almost choked on the last swallow of his previous drink and then followed the three other men in taking another swig while the women tried not to chortle too obviously.
Daphne, who came right after, thought for a second and then said, “I never made out with a girl.”
Rolling his eyes, Draco drank again, along with Blaise, Theo, and Ron. And Luna, to his surprise. He looked at her husband, who only laughed at his expression. Theo did not seem bothered at all.
It was not over, though. Daphne was looking pointedly at Pansy, her lips twitching in a smile, and finally Pansy sighed and took a sip of her cranberry juice. Now that was enough to baffle Draco.
“I was young, all right?” Pansy said irritably. “We weren’t exactly dating yet, Draco, and I was curious . . . Can we please move on, now?”
Draco noticed that Ron was looking at his wife strangely as well. He had obviously not known. Draco could not tell if Ron was disturbed or impressed.
It was Hermione’s turn next, and Draco was hoping that things would calm down, but she had a mischievous look on her face. “I never had a threesome,” she said.
They all looked at each other, and Draco wondered why she had said that. Did she imply . . . His eyes widened as Theo and Luna drank in unison. They had what? And how had Hermione known?
Ginny laughed and said, “Nice one, Hermione.”
“Just checking a theory.” Hermione smiled back.
Luna did not seem bothered in the least, and Theo was maybe flushed just a little bit. They did not comment, though, and the game moved on. More racy statements were made, and things were becoming increasingly embarrassing by the minute, but it was more than a little elating as well. Or maybe that was the alcohol. At any rate, once it had started, nobody seemed to want to slow things down. And then Blaise took things one step too far.
“I never cheated on a woman I loved.”
Draco froze. Why had he said that? He was out of line. He had no right. It was-Nobody was drinking, he realised. It was just him. Obviously. He was going to be the only one. Thinking bitterly about giving Blaise a slow and painful death, he raised his glass and drank.
There were a few moments of awkward silence, and then he looked up and noticed that people were eyeing Pansy. She seemed to realise that at the same time, and as it was her turn to speak, she immediately said, “Oh, it wasn’t me. I was never cheated on.”
Great. Yet another thing to drink to. Thank you, Pansy, he thought sourly. He was bringing his glass to his lips when Hermione stopped him.
“Don’t,” she said.
What? He looked up. She was sitting very straight, looking directly at him.
“Don’t,” she repeated. And then she raised her own glass and drank.
It took him a few seconds to fully understand the implications of what she had said, and when he did, he thought that he was going to be sick.
Everything seemed hazy after that. Maybe he had had one too many drinks, or maybe not. But the realisation that had come crashing down on him had stunned him more than anything else. He did not understand. Or rather, he did, finally. And it was terrible. He had been working under all the wrong assumptions. He had been such a fool. A hopeless, irredeemable fool. How had he managed not to see it? It was so obvious now. He should have known. He should have-
He wanted to curse himself. Preferably with something dark and irreversible. He still had a few bloodcurdling ones up his sleeve from his time among the Death Eaters. There had to be one that would do. But no, he was being ridiculous. Dying a painful death would not help anything. There had to be something more constructive that he could do. He just had to figure out what.
The mood was rather spoiled for the rest of the evening, and nobody was very enthusiastic about the game anymore. Soon, they stopped, and everybody started getting up to leave. Hermione was one of the first to go, and Draco left shortly after her. Pansy and Ron were still there when he stepped into the fireplace, hanging back for some reason. He would have expected them to want to go early to get back to their daughters, but they seemed to want to stay. He did not really care why. He needed to be alone to think.
***
The knock on the door was unexpected. Hermione had not ordered anything, and it was way too late for room service. She had been about to go to bed. Wondering who it was, she went to open the door. Recognising the wizard in a soaked raincoat dripping on the carpet outside her room was even more of a surprise.
“Draco? What are you doing here?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Did Ginny tell you where to find me?”
It would not be surprising. She was convinced that the woman had orchestrated the whole evening the day prior, probably with some help from Blaise and Pansy. Maybe even Ron, though he was not usually the scheming type, but his sister might have been able to drag him into it. If she had managed to let him know what was happening while keeping him from flipping out on her, Hermione was impressed. Greatly annoyed, but impressed.
Ginny had only wanted to help. She had probably thought that forcing Draco and Hermione to make some admissions would help them bridge the gaps and mend things with each other. But she did not understand-it was too late. Even knowing that Draco thought he loved her was not enough for Hermione. If it had not kept him from hurting her before, if would not keep him from doing it again in the future. Besides, he was probably fooling himself. If he had really loved her, he would not have behaved in this way.
Draco gave a strained smile. “You don’t give me nearly enough credit. We’ve been married for seven years. I know you better than you think.”
She supposed that he was right, though she had a hard time believing that he had figured out where she was on his own. She knew she had told him about this place-this hotel, where her parents had met, and where their whole family had stayed every time they came to London during her childhood. It carried unique memories for her. It made her feel safe. But she had not thought that Draco would remember. She did not know what to make of the fact that he had and that he had recalled it well enough to be able to find her here.
“So-what do you want?” she asked.
“Can I come in?” He was uneasy, though he hid it well. He had always been good at concealing his emotions, but as he had said, they had been married for seven years. She knew him just as well as he did her.
She eyed him critically then made sure there was nobody to see and cast a quick drying spell on him before stepping aside to let him in.
“Thank you,” he said, probably for the spell as much as for the invitation. He had been shivering.
She motioned him to sit in one of the two armchairs by the small wooden table, and she took the other one. Then, she looked at him expectantly.
It took a few moments before he spoke. He was fidgeting, clenching and unclenching his hands around his cane, looking more obviously nervous by the second. Then, finally, he said, “I didn’t know.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
She wanted to be patient with him, she really did. She told herself that he was not worth torturing herself over. Yet, if he had come all the way here, today of all days, when she least wanted to be reminded of him-well, he had better have something worthwhile to say.
Draco looked positively distraught, now. “I swear, I-I don’t know how to say this. I know there’s nothing I can say, but-please, you have to believe me. If I had known, I would have never-”
He cut off again and exhaled deeply, running a hand through his still damp hair.
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered.
He was talking about that, of course. She wanted to kill Pansy for making him find out, though she probably had not done it on purpose. Or maybe she had. You could never know with those devious snakes. She fought to keep her voice steady.
“There is nothing to be sorry about. We had a deal, and you observed it exactly.”
Was that why he was here? To clear his conscience? He was feeling guilty, and he wanted to be told that it was all right. Well, she could do that, if it made him go away.
“But you didn’t!” he protested, suddenly more energetic. “It’s not a deal if it’s only one-sided, is it?”
Why was he making this difficult? “It is, too. And I did keep my side of the bargain. We said we could do whatever we wanted, so long as nobody knew. And that’s what we both did.”
“No, Hermione. You’re being unfair.” He was looking straight at her now, and she could feel him becoming more belligerent by the second. “If I had known what was happening, I would have behaved differently. I only did what I did because I thought you were doing the same.”
“So, you’re blaming me, now?” she asked dryly. “I thought you were asking me for forgiveness.”
This was getting old, fast. If he kept it up, she felt ready to kick him out. It was better than to break down in front of him. She did not think she could bear such humiliation, but it would happen if he continued pushing her that way.
“I am! But I also want you to understand. I never meant to hurt you!”
Hermione could not help but smile bitterly at that. “And yet, you did. It’s funny how it all works out, isn’t it? But it doesn’t matter anymore. I told you that I don’t blame you. And anyway, this will all be over soon. It’s a matter of hours, now.”
He stared at her for a moment. “But what if I don’t want it to be?”
That again. She sighed. “I’m afraid you don’t really have a say. And didn’t you already agree to this?”
“That was before I knew! I didn’t understand. I thought you hated me or-or that you had found somebody else. I didn’t realise that it was my fault.”
“And what if I did find somebody else?” She did not know if she had, but she was considering it. Theo was certainly interested, and once all this was settled, she was in a mood to give it a try. Maybe it would help her to broaden her horizons a little. She had never had much space for that before in her life.
Draco seemed to deflate a little at that. “If you have, then-well, it would be selfish of me to keep you from being happy, wouldn’t it? But Hermione-if there’s a chance, even a small one, that you might want to make it work between us instead, then please, at least consider giving it a chance.”
He was pleading, she realised. She had not heard him plead with anyone in a very long time. It was a rare enough occurrence to give her pause. Why was he so desperate? Could it be that he really cared? But no. It did not matter. She had promised herself that she would not let him hurt her anymore.
She shook her head. “And why would I do that? We’ve been giving it a chance for seven years, and look where it got us.”
“But we were doing it all wrong! We got married for the worst possible reasons. We stayed together because we were forced to. Everything that ever happened between us could never have had a chance to work out when it started out that way.”
“Yet it did for others,” she observed.
He shrugged. “I guess. But every couple is different. Pansy and Ron have their children. Theo and Luna seem to have this weird . . . arrangement going on. Ginny got to choose her own husband, for heaven’s sake!” He stared into her eyes. “Maybe we got the worst lot of all.”
He was so compelling, looking at her that way, with so much sincerity in his voice, so many emotions almost laid bare. She had rarely seen him this way. It was enough to trouble her, perhaps to almost make her change her mind. It was difficult to remain strong in the face of that. She still loved him, after all. But that was what she had to remind herself of. She loved him, and she had received nothing but pain in return.
“We’ve been married for seven years,” Draco continued. “Can you honestly think back on that and not find any worthwhile moment in it? Any memory worth cherishing?”
Why was he asking that? Of course she had good memories. There were good memories mixed in with the worst times of her life and experiences she would not trade for anything. But it did not mean that she wanted to ever relive those moments. Memories were in the past, and sometimes, she was forced to admit that that was the best place for them to be.
“You don’t understand. Just because we had good times together doesn’t erase all the bad parts of our marriage. And even if you did promise me that it would all change-that we would get a fresh start, that nothing would ever be the same-why should I believe you? Give me one reason why I should believe that things will change.”
Suddenly, Draco laughed, a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you? Well, I guess it’s the least I owe you.”
He leaned closer to her, looking straight into her eyes, and she suddenly felt the urge to draw back and run away. She made herself sit still.
“I love you, Hermione. I think I have for a long time, though I didn’t recognise it before. When I realised that you were leaving me, it felt like my whole world was falling apart. I have never felt so crushed before.”
Hermione was fighting to keep her voice from trembling. “That’s funny, Draco. That’s exactly how I felt when I saw you with that woman.”
He opened his mouth, and she knew what he was going to say: that he was terribly sorry, that he loved her, that he would never hurt her again. She could not allow him to speak. She wanted too badly to believe.
“Stop,” she said. “Don’t say it. I don’t think I can stand it.” To her dismay, her voice was breaking. She had to end this, now. She stood up and went to open the door. “Please. Leave.”
He was not moving, she realised. She turned back towards him and saw that he was still sitting in the armchair, fumbling in his coat pocket. When he raised his hand, she saw that there was something in it: a small vial filled with a colourless liquid.
“Veritaserum,” he said, confirming her guess. “I got the idea from Ginny. I’ll drink it and answer any question you want to ask.”
That made her pause. He really was serious about this. “Any question?” she asked. “What if I ask for the names of all the witches you slept with?”
He winced. “I would beg you not to. But if you insist-well, I said any question, didn’t I?”
She nodded. She needed to consider this for a time. She closed the door and went back to sit down. Maybe if he was really determined . . . maybe there was hope, after all? She was scared of that line of thought. It was so dangerous. She had sworn to herself that she would never go down that road again. And yet . . . she wanted to believe.
“Keep the Veritaserum,” she told him. “Maybe we’ll use it, and maybe we won’t. I haven’t decided yet. I need time to think about it.”
The relief on Draco’s face was so clear that she felt the need to clarify.
“I haven’t changed my mind,” she told him. “I still don’t trust you. But . . . I’m willing to give it a bit of time.”
He nodded, almost too eagerly. Who was this man? She could not recognise him as the Draco she had known all these years.
“I understand,” he said. “Take as much time as you need. Just promise me that you won’t decide anything tonight, all right?”
She promised. Just as she did so, the clock on the wall struck midnight. “Seven years and a day,” she mused. “That’s it. It’s today.”
Draco gave a short, wry laugh. “Happy anniversary, Hermione.”
She could not help but smile as well. It was a bittersweet smile, but it was something, at least. “Happy anniversary,” she replied.