The Selfishness of Draco Malfoy [G] For The Community
Title: The Selfishness of Draco Malfoy
Author: Pippa from pips_n_chiaw
Rating: G
Disclaimer: All characters and related HP things including the species “house elf” but excluding the character Pippy, belong to JKR. The idea for this fic came from the song “Can I Have A Kiss?” by Kelly Clarkson.
Warnings: None
Summary: Draco had always been a selfish, spoiled brat, but the war changed him for the worse. Thank goodness his mother is still around to teach him some lessons.
Notes: This is a gift to the community, so I hope you all enjoy! It’s a nice song by Kelly Clarkson (at least, I think so), so I’m glad I got to use it. Happy reading!
The Daily Prophet: MALFOY SON OUT OF AZKABAN TODAY: Draco released after one month in prison
~
“Good morning, Miss. How may Pippy help you?”
“I’d like to see Draco please, is he home?”
“Who shall Pippy say is at the door?”
“My name is Hermione Granger. But tell him- tell him it’s a friend from Hogwarts.”
“Master Draco has not been the same, Miss, since his return. Pippy is glad a friend has come to visit. Master Draco needs friends.”
~
“Hello, Draco. How are you?”
“How do you think I am?”
“I think you need help. And I want to help you.”
“So what if I need help? I don’t want it. You’re better off leaving me, Granger.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious, genius? People close to me only get hurt. My parents, Snape, Crabbe…”
~
“Hey, Draco. How was your day?”
“All right, I guess. Nothing really interesting happened.”
“Well, you’ll never believe who I saw today.”
“Do I look like I care? I’m very busy.”
~
“Why is there mushroom soup here? I hate mushroom soup!”
“But I like it. Besides, you don’t have to eat it.”
“Pippy, take it away. The smell is bothering me.”
~
“Your mother will be released tomorrow.”
“I know. I asked Pippy to prepare all her favorite dishes.”
“Really? That’s great, Draco. A real improvement.”
~
“Aren’t you even going to ask how my day went?”
“Should I pretend to be interested even if I’m not?”
~
“Draco, where’s Hermione?”
“I don’t know, Mother. She hasn’t been around the past few days.”
“Is she all right? Maybe she’s sick.”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe you should owl her, or Floo her.”
“I don’t know where she lives, or where she works. Just leave it, Mother. She’ll probably come back.”
~
The Ministry of Magic, Draco thought to himself with some degree of disgust, would use any excuse to throw a ball. Or perhaps it was merely the result of having a Minister of Magic married to a professional party planner.
It was the twenty-ninth of February, and the Ministry of Magic’s Leap Year Ball was in full swing- which was to say, it was very dull. Most of the guests were sick and tired of balls, and rightly so, considering there had been a Yuletide Ball and a New Year’s Ball not too long ago, and a Halloween Ball before that. In fact, Draco had skipped the past few balls, deciding to flee to France instead. He had unfortunately been unable to weasel his way out of attending this latest one.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. The party itself was impeccably planned, the only flaw being that the guests had attended one too many balls lately. Also, Hermione had shown up, looking beautiful in a maroon gown that he had never seen before. He knew she cleaned up nicely, he had known it since he was fourteen. Draco hadn’t seen her in over a year, and almost regretted missing the previous balls. Judging from her expression and the fact that she appeared to be in a work-related discussion with her boss rather than enjoying the party, she was a regular guest.
Checking his watch, Draco decided he didn’t have time to lose. He didn’t know how late Hermione usually stayed at parties, and he didn’t want to give her the chance to leave early. He had noticed a number of men ask her to dance early on, but she had refused all except Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. Now that she was talking to her boss, the intimidating Mr. Blackwell, no one was brave enough to interrupt them. Except Draco, of course, who would use the situation to his advantage.
“Good evening, Mr. Blackwell, Hermione,” Draco greeted them solemnly as he approached. Mr. Blackwell shook his hand, while Hermione looked at him through narrowed eyes, a scowl on her face. “I hate to interrupt, sir, but you’ve been monopolizing Hermione for half an hour, and I personally would like to dance with her.”
Mr. Blackwell smiled, just as Draco hoped he would. “Is that so? Well, we’ve just about finished our discussion. You young people go and enjoy yourselves.”
“Thank you, sir.” Draco turned to Hermione. “You look lovely tonight. Care to dance?”
Hermione’s face was bright red. “No, thanks. I’ll pass.” She managed to pull off looking suspicious, alarmed, and embarrassed all at the same time.
“Why not?” Draco asked, his hand still outstretched.
“I-I’m not in the mood, my feet are aching from dancing with Harry, and in fact I’d like to sit down.”
Draco mentally sniggered at her lousy excuses. He grinned when the tempo of the music changed. “It’s a slow song now, you won’t have to move much. And I won’t step on your feet, I swear. Just one dance?”
“Go on, Hermione,” Mr. Blackwell said, in a tone of voice that made it seem like an order. “Dance with the boy, for heaven’s sake! What is the problem with young women these days? Why, in my day-”
“Fine,” Hermione snapped, taking Draco’s hand, still looking uncomfortable. She scowled as his grin widened, and followed him onto the dance floor. “You’re mad, Malfoy,” she muttered as he maneuvered her into position. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Draco smiled and began to lead. “I’m perfectly sane, Hermione.” He chose to ignore her question. “How have you been?” As they danced he tried to relax, tried to slow his heart rate, which had accelerated when he had approached Hermione and Mr. Blackwell. He had been nervous, although he hadn’t shown it. But his heart kept pounding in his chest, strong and fast.
“I can’t believe you asked. Or was that sarcasm? Anyway, I’m fine,” Hermione answered coldly, her eyes fixed on a point above his shoulder. She had been watching him surreptitiously the entire evening, and had no desire to look at him now.
“That’s good to hear. Why is it that we lost contact anyway?”
He felt her tense at his question, and her gaze snapped to his. “Lost contact? Is that what you call it? As far as I’m concerned, you have no right to ask that question. Did you ever contact me before? No! I was always the one making the effort, and everyone reaches a breaking point, Malfoy- you of all people should know,” she hissed angrily. “You should know, having been a broken man for-”
“I was a mess then,” Draco admitted. “You of all people should know that. You saw me, you helped me.”
“Well, I’m glad you realize that,” Hermione muttered.
“I realize it, and appreciate it.” He raised an eyebrow when Hermione scoffed. “I mean it. I’m grateful, and I miss you.”
At that, Hermione pushed him away from her. “Don’t- how dare you! Stop talking to me, Malfoy.” He was surprised to see her eyes glistening with tears. “I mean it! I want you to leave me alone. You don’t miss me.” She whirled around, obviously desperate for some privacy. Draco caught her wrist and pulled her back to him.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, refusing to let her go despite her struggles. “Shush,” he said, hoping to soothe her. “Come here, you’re causing a scene.” He tried to pull her closer to him but she managed to free herself and walked away as fast as dared to go on her new high-heeled shoes. Unfortunately for her, that wasn’t fast at all, and Draco caught up with her easily outside the ballroom.
“Leave me alone,” Hermione repeated, drawing out her wand. “If you don’t want to cause a scene, just leave me alone.”
Draco drew out his own wand, just in case she decided to put her considerable skills to use. “I want to talk. You can’t expect me to just let you go without getting any answers! I don’t even know why you left the first time.” He spied a door not too far away. “You’re overreacting. Be rational. Look, there’s a room over there, let’s discuss this properly.”
She appeared to think this over. “On one condition.”
“What?”
“Once we’re through, you don’t bother me again, and you never ever force me to dance with you again.”
Draco bit back a smile. “Whatever you say. Now come on, before your friends start looking for you.”
Hermione looked around, hoping her friends were already on their way, but seeing no one decided to follow Draco into the room. It turned out to be a sitting room, but Hermione ignored the seats and headed for the window. It surprised her to see that it was raining. And if Draco hadn’t stopped her, perhaps she would have run right out of the party and into the rain. It would have been freezing, but she wouldn’t have stayed out long. Just enough to get some fresh air, then she’d Apparate home…She really didn’t feel like having any sort of discussion with Draco, but it seemed like she had little choice in the matter.
“Can you see anything out there?” Draco asked, his voice interrupting her thoughts.
“It’s raining.” She turned away from the window, deciding it was better to get everything over with. “Well? Start talking.”
Feeling uncomfortable with her taking charge, Draco decided to ask her a question instead. “What did I say to make you cry? I didn’t insult you or your friends, or Muggles in general. You completely overreacted! What’s wrong?”
Hermione took a deep breath. “I’m going to ask you something in return, and I want you to be completely honest with me.” Draco hesitated, then nodded. “How long was it before you missed me? Before you noticed I hadn’t contacted you? Did you notice the first day?”
“No, I did not notice the first day. I didn’t even notice until-” he trailed off and looked at her, making sure she wanted to hear the answer, “until about a week and a half later. You shouldn’t have asked if you can’t take the answer,” he said hotly, seeing her wince and hang her head. “And you know what’s worse? I wouldn’t have noticed if my mother hadn’t asked where you were.”
“It’s nice to know that after months of- of being there for you, you finally realized I was gone,” Hermione said bitterly.
“Is that what this is about? You know how I was back then- why did you expect more from me?”
“Don’t complicate this, because it’s really quite simple. I think the most important question you should be asking is why was I there in the first place, not why I left.”
“Then just tell me already!” Draco sat down on one of the chairs near the fireplace. “You’re the one being difficult.”
Hermione’s expression darkened, but she didn’t comment. “When I got back from Australia with my parents, it was all over the news that you had been sentenced by the Wizengamot to a month in Azkaban. I didn’t agree with the sentence, but I couldn’t do anything, so after your release I went to see you. And you know the rest. There you were, a wreck of a boy, your parents still in prison. I did what anyone would have done after seeing you- I stayed. At first you seemed to be in a depression, but after a while that lifted, and you were just a spoiled brat, who apparently didn’t give a damn about the people who cared for him. Merlin knows why I tolerated you for so long, but I honestly believed you’d change. Then your mother was released, and she was sick. I stayed for a bit longer, thinking things might change when you had responsibility over someone, but although you began to care more about things other than yourself- namely your business and your mother- I was still neglected and underappreciated.” Hermione paused, blinking rapidly. She couldn’t decide how to continue. “It hurt, honestly. I’d been insulted before for my blood status, my looks, my blunders, but I’d never been so- so hurt by the apparent apathy of someone who I honestly cared about! Harry and Ron asked me why I put up with you for so long, and I didn’t know. They said I was like a battered wife who wouldn’t leave her husband. I said initially that you needed my help, but I saw later on that I was wrong- you didn’t need me. So I left, wondering if you would look for me. You didn’t.”
For a long while Draco was speechless. “You- you should have told me! Merlin! You knew how self-centered I was then, why didn’t you tell me you wanted me to pay attention to you?”
“You wouldn’t have listened. And because that’s something I shouldn’t have to tell you.”
“That’s something you wouldn’t have to tell other people, normal people.” Draco stood up and stalked away from her. He was clearly frustrated, but she didn’t know if he was upset with her or himself. “You know my past. Spoiled rich kid, forced to either kill or be killed, whose actions could also mean the lives or deaths of my parents. Factor in Azkaban, and is it any wonder I’m messed up?”
Hermione smiled grimly. “Well, that’s the first step, Draco. Admitting you have a problem. The next question is, do you know what your problem is? Shall I tell you? You want to live in a world where you care only of yourself. Like a child, I suppose, who is completely dependent on his parents. You want no responsibility towards others, because you’re traumatized by that burden Voldemort placed on you. You care about what you do, and what you get, but not who gives it to you.”
“That’s not true. How can you say I want no responsibility when I run the company?” Draco asked defensively. “I care about people! Like my mother, and my father- I’d do anything for them.”
Hermione nodded. “You’ve improved, I admit. But before, when you were just out of Azkaban, you were really self-centered. Or maybe that’s not an accurate description. You were afraid to care for others because you didn’t want to hurt them. In fact, you’ve only just expanded your circle to include precious few people. Do you see how hard it must have been for me? Can you imagine it? Instead of protecting me, it hurt me.”
Draco ran a hand through his hair and walked back towards her. “I can imagine that it must not have been pleasant. But I can’t imagine why you put up with it for so long, or why you didn’t say anything!”
There was a long silence from Hermione, and she furrowed her brows, thinking deeply. “It’s hard to explain- but in a way, I guess I really just hoped you’d come around on your own. And I guess I’m really just like that. I have a thing for lost causes, like the house elves, and you. If it’s too easy, then the challenge is over too quickly, and I have to find another one. I never planned to give up on you, but I was too emotionally involved at the end.”
“What does that mean?”
Hermione blushed slightly. Should she tell him why she really stayed for so long? And that she had left, not because she was really giving up on him, but because she had been heartbroken? No. “Working with house elves is different from working with humans,” was all she chose to say.
Draco waited for her to elaborate, and sighed when she didn’t. “I’m sorry. Even if I keep saying it’s not my fault, that it’s because there’s something wrong with me, it really is my fault. I know now why you left, and I can’t fault you for that. I would have left much earlier. I’m really, really sorry. I hope you can find it somewhere in your heart to do the Gryffindor thing and forgive me.”
Hermione hesitated, then smiled a little, and moved forward to embrace him lightly. “Apology accepted. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, not anymore.”
His arms went up around her to pull her closer. He chuckled at her words. “I assure you, I’m still on the mend.” Draco took a deep breath, savoring the feeling of having her in his arms. “Hermione, I have missed you. And I do care about you. You’re not seeing anyone, are you? What do you say to dinner tomorrow night?”
She pulled back slightly to look at him properly. He was looking at her hopefully, with a smile on his face telling her he was pretty confident she’d accept. She only hoped he wouldn’t hate himself when she refused. “I- no, Draco, I don’t think so,” she said, faltering slightly.
“Oh.” He looked crestfallen and quickly stepped back and out of her embrace. “I thought you might say that. I’m not good enough.”
Hermione shook her head sadly. “It’s not that. It’s just that you say you care for me, but I’m sorry, Draco, I have to disagree.”
He looked angry again. “How do you know how I feel? You may be a know-it-all, Granger, but don’t presume to tell me something that only I can know.” Draco glared at her, and when she began to defend herself, he continued his rant. “Just because you’re so much better than me in so many ways, just because it’s taken me a long time to see it, doesn’t mean it’s not true. Please.”
“Draco. Aside from what you’ve told me just now, have you ever given me a reason to believe that you care? Back in Hogwarts, or after the war? Why didn’t you look for me after I left? Why didn’t you talk to me until halfway through tonight’s ball? Don’t tell me you care, show me!” Her heart was pounding with a wild hope that he would realize what she was trying to tell him, that she desperately wanted him to care but needed to believe it before she would commit herself to him.
Without hesitation Draco reached out and took her face in his hands, pulling it closer to his. He closed his eyes, anticipating their kiss. Their lips were so close that he could feel her breath against his mouth when she whispered “no.” Draco froze.
His hesitation at her whisper gave her time to clear her mind and push him away. She regretted that she had to do it, but his intention, though it thrilled her, was not what she was looking for.
“As much as I- as much as I’m flattered by that, Draco, it doesn’t give me what I’m looking for. It’s not that I don’t want you to want me like that, but I want you to be a friend first of all.” Hermione took a deep breath, tears prickling at her eyes once again. “Ask me how I am, how my day was, what I like doing and what I think about certain issues. When’s my birthday? What’s my favorite color? Get to know me before you decide. Ask me what I want, not just what you want.”
“You want me to be like Potter and Weasley?” Draco asked incredulously. “Merlin, Hermione, I-”
“No one can replace them for me, and I’m not asking you to. You don’t even have to talk to me every day, the way they do. I just want you to have an interest in me, and think about me sometimes. I know it sounds selfish, but we all have those moments. In return I’d do the same.” Hermione blinked rapidly. She tended to get emotional when she thought of how great her friendship with Ron and Harry was, and compounded with the frustration she felt towards Draco, she was at the end of her rope.
“Well, tell me then! Tell me about yourself,” Draco demanded.
Hermione looked at him sadly. “Do you really want to know? Or are you just asking because I told you to?”
“This is so unfair,” Draco said tightly. “You’re being so difficult. I don’t know what to do anymore! I’ll- I’ll owl you. Goodnight.” With a curt nod, he turned away and left the room, slamming the door shut on his way out.
Hermione sank down onto one of the seats, her tears starting to fall. “He didn’t stay, he didn’t even try,” she sobbed quietly, “he doesn’t really care.”
~
“Mother,” Draco said exasperatedly, “you’re no help.” He had, in desperation, turned to his mother for advice, which he was beginning to regret doing. Ever since he had told her that he needed help regarding a certain girl, Narcissa hadn’t stopped smiling and teasing him gently.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t help it! You don’t know how relieved I am to hear you say you want to get serious with this lady, I was starting to worry that the Malfoy line would end with you.”
“Mother!” Draco groaned, covering his face. “I just want her to let me take her out, can we focus on that, please? One date does not a marriage make.”
“Oh, very well,” Narcissa said, still grinning. “Who is it?”
“Hermione,” Draco mumbled, his face still in his hands. “I saw her at the ball last night, and we had a long talk. I asked her out, and she accused me of not caring! She asked me to show her that I cared for her, and when I tried to kiss her, she pushed me away. Women. What do I do?”
Narcissa sighed. “I must say, I’m glad it’s her, Draco. She was there for you when I couldn’t be. I owe her a lot, I suppose. Never thought I’d think that way about a Muggle-born, but I suppose there’ve been stranger things. Of course I’ll help you, dearest. Now, first things first- do you care about her?”
Draco groaned again. “Why do you women have to ask? Would I be asking her out if I didn’t?”
“It’s important. If, for instance, you spent a whole day with her, doing what she liked to do, would you get bored? If she spent an hour telling you about her day, would you listen? Your father was a very attentive listener, that’s what won me over, you know.”
“Lovely. And no, I do not know that I won’t get bored listening to her talk, because I’ve never tried it.”
“The problem is that you don’t know her well enough. Let’s start with something simple. What does she like? What are her interests?”
“Books. House elves. Lost causes. High grades. Her friends.”
“That’s a rather sorry list, Draco.” Narcissa thought for a moment, sipping on her tea. “I think the first step you should take should be the hardest. If she wants to see how sincere you are, take her out to dinner, and invite Potter and Weasley along.”
“Potter and Weasley?” Draco repeated scornfully. “Those two?”
“Potter isn’t that bad,” Narcissa said reproachfully, for indeed she had developed a soft spot for Harry since the war, “and if you want Hermione, you’ve got to take her with those two. She’s very attached to them.”
Draco scowled and stared into the fireplace. A few minutes later, he sighed. “I see your point, Mother. But it’ll be hard.”
“And during that dinner, talk to all of them, not just to Hermione,” Narcissa advised. “She’ll be more convinced of your sincerity. Oh, and it might be a good idea to bottle your memories afterwards, for reviewing. Yes, I think that will work. Go from there, then build your relationship.”
“This won’t be easy.”
Narcissa laughed again. “Who told you it would be? And for heaven’s sake, Draco, don’t owl her the invitation. I know you were about to! Talk to her in person, like any sane wizard would.”
~
Hermione had been having a relatively good day. She had finished most of the work due for the next two weeks, and was looking forward to meeting her friends for dinner. She had heard two of her favorite songs on the Wizarding Wireless, and had received an owl saying that the book she had ordered at Flourish and Blott’s had arrived.
She was in good spirits until her secretary announced the arrival of Draco Malfoy. With a sigh, she called him in.
“Hi,” he began, sounding nervous, but Hermione noticed thankfully that he didn’t bring flowers, “I hope you’re not too busy.”
“I have time. Have a seat.”
“Thanks.”
The awkwardness gave way to an uncomfortable silence, which stretched until Draco coughed quietly. “So, I’m sorry I left abruptly the other night. I was confused.”
“Oh, it’s all right,” Hermione lied, looking down at her hands. “I didn’t stay long after. I was expecting an owl, you know.”
“Hence the locked windows?” Draco frowned, looking around the room.
Hermione laughed. “No, the owls don’t come directly to my office. They go to my secretary’s.”
“Oh.” Draco was unsure whether to laugh with her- although he was embarrassed and didn’t find it the least bit funny- or to just be relieved. He managed a small smile. “I could have owled, but I wanted to see you. And I thought it would be best to extend my invitation in person.”
“Invitation to what?”
“Just to dinner. As friends. I was thinking we could just talk, and get to know each other better. If you want to, that is. And…” Draco trailed off, inwardly groaning, “I think it would be nice if Harry and Ron could come too. Because I know that if I want to spend more time with you, it’ll mean spending more time with them. So we’ve got to start acting like adults.”
Hermione gaped at him, her mouth open unflatteringly. After a few moments she pulled herself together. “Do you mean it, Draco? You won’t hurt them?”
“I promise.”
“Even if they hurt you?”
Draco hesitated. “I’ll try my best.”
A slow smile spread across Hermione’s face until she was beaming. “You’re serious, aren’t you? Oh, this is great. When will we have it? I’m meeting them for dinner tonight, but maybe the night after will do? I’ll ask them. Where did you have in mind? Oh, and will you be free tomorrow night?”
Draco grinned at her excitement and began answering her questions, glad that he finally seemed to do something right.
~
“I think we should get going,” Hermione said apologetically to Narcissa and Lucius. “We made plans to have tea with my parents. Thanks for lunch.”
“I’ll get your bag,” Draco said, standing up. “Don’t move, I won’t be long.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I’m carrying a baby, not a bomb. I’m not that fragile.”
Lucius made a grumbling sound while Narcissa laughed. “The Malfoy men tend to forget that women are often times just as strong as them. I’d like to see them bear the pains of childbirth!”
Hermione chuckled, patting her slightly bulging stomach. “Well, I shouldn’t complain about Draco being overattentive, considering he used to be just the opposite.”
“And you’ll never let me forget it,” Draco said, coming back into the room with his wife’s bag. “Come on, then. We don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“I’ll see you soon,” Hermione said, kissing Narcissa on the cheek and giving Lucius a little wave.
“Be careful,” Lucius reminded her, making Narcissa roll her eyes.
“Let’s go.” Draco took Hermione’s arm and led her to the Floo area. “Hermione, are you sure this is better than Apparating?”
“For the millionth time, yes.” Hermione turned towards him and slipped her arms around him. “Trust me, Draco. I’m taking care of myself. I love this baby just as much as you do, if not more. So please, stop nagging. I’m being careful.”
“All right. But you do all the difficult work, I feel like this is the least I can do for you.”
“That’s sweet. Where’s the old Draco and what did you do to him? Not that I’m complaining- much.”
“Oh, you’re hilarious. And I’m being sarcastic, by the way. In case pregnancy ruined your ability to tell. And to answer your question, he just needed to realize that you’re so much more interesting than he could ever be, worthier of his affections than even himself.”
Hermione laughed. “I beg to differ.” She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. “By the way, did I tell you Harry and Ron would be there later?”
“Ron told me.”
“Really? I think I feel jealous.”
“Don’t be. I really don’t swing that way. Now, for the last time, let’s go.”
With a flash of green flames, they were gone.
The End
ferretbush_post is the account the mods use to post gifts, it has not authored or created any of the gifts.
Mod Note: This gift was originally written for a participant that is no longer participating. In order to give the story the exposure and feedback it would have received, and to recognize the hard work that went into creating this gift, we are posting it here as a gift to the community. Enjoy!
Author: Pippa from pips_n_chiaw
Rating: G
Disclaimer: All characters and related HP things including the species “house elf” but excluding the character Pippy, belong to JKR. The idea for this fic came from the song “Can I Have A Kiss?” by Kelly Clarkson.
Warnings: None
Summary: Draco had always been a selfish, spoiled brat, but the war changed him for the worse. Thank goodness his mother is still around to teach him some lessons.
Notes: This is a gift to the community, so I hope you all enjoy! It’s a nice song by Kelly Clarkson (at least, I think so), so I’m glad I got to use it. Happy reading!
The Daily Prophet: MALFOY SON OUT OF AZKABAN TODAY: Draco released after one month in prison
~
“Good morning, Miss. How may Pippy help you?”
“I’d like to see Draco please, is he home?”
“Who shall Pippy say is at the door?”
“My name is Hermione Granger. But tell him- tell him it’s a friend from Hogwarts.”
“Master Draco has not been the same, Miss, since his return. Pippy is glad a friend has come to visit. Master Draco needs friends.”
~
“Hello, Draco. How are you?”
“How do you think I am?”
“I think you need help. And I want to help you.”
“So what if I need help? I don’t want it. You’re better off leaving me, Granger.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious, genius? People close to me only get hurt. My parents, Snape, Crabbe…”
~
“Hey, Draco. How was your day?”
“All right, I guess. Nothing really interesting happened.”
“Well, you’ll never believe who I saw today.”
“Do I look like I care? I’m very busy.”
~
“Why is there mushroom soup here? I hate mushroom soup!”
“But I like it. Besides, you don’t have to eat it.”
“Pippy, take it away. The smell is bothering me.”
~
“Your mother will be released tomorrow.”
“I know. I asked Pippy to prepare all her favorite dishes.”
“Really? That’s great, Draco. A real improvement.”
~
“Aren’t you even going to ask how my day went?”
“Should I pretend to be interested even if I’m not?”
~
“Draco, where’s Hermione?”
“I don’t know, Mother. She hasn’t been around the past few days.”
“Is she all right? Maybe she’s sick.”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe you should owl her, or Floo her.”
“I don’t know where she lives, or where she works. Just leave it, Mother. She’ll probably come back.”
~
The Ministry of Magic, Draco thought to himself with some degree of disgust, would use any excuse to throw a ball. Or perhaps it was merely the result of having a Minister of Magic married to a professional party planner.
It was the twenty-ninth of February, and the Ministry of Magic’s Leap Year Ball was in full swing- which was to say, it was very dull. Most of the guests were sick and tired of balls, and rightly so, considering there had been a Yuletide Ball and a New Year’s Ball not too long ago, and a Halloween Ball before that. In fact, Draco had skipped the past few balls, deciding to flee to France instead. He had unfortunately been unable to weasel his way out of attending this latest one.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. The party itself was impeccably planned, the only flaw being that the guests had attended one too many balls lately. Also, Hermione had shown up, looking beautiful in a maroon gown that he had never seen before. He knew she cleaned up nicely, he had known it since he was fourteen. Draco hadn’t seen her in over a year, and almost regretted missing the previous balls. Judging from her expression and the fact that she appeared to be in a work-related discussion with her boss rather than enjoying the party, she was a regular guest.
Checking his watch, Draco decided he didn’t have time to lose. He didn’t know how late Hermione usually stayed at parties, and he didn’t want to give her the chance to leave early. He had noticed a number of men ask her to dance early on, but she had refused all except Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. Now that she was talking to her boss, the intimidating Mr. Blackwell, no one was brave enough to interrupt them. Except Draco, of course, who would use the situation to his advantage.
“Good evening, Mr. Blackwell, Hermione,” Draco greeted them solemnly as he approached. Mr. Blackwell shook his hand, while Hermione looked at him through narrowed eyes, a scowl on her face. “I hate to interrupt, sir, but you’ve been monopolizing Hermione for half an hour, and I personally would like to dance with her.”
Mr. Blackwell smiled, just as Draco hoped he would. “Is that so? Well, we’ve just about finished our discussion. You young people go and enjoy yourselves.”
“Thank you, sir.” Draco turned to Hermione. “You look lovely tonight. Care to dance?”
Hermione’s face was bright red. “No, thanks. I’ll pass.” She managed to pull off looking suspicious, alarmed, and embarrassed all at the same time.
“Why not?” Draco asked, his hand still outstretched.
“I-I’m not in the mood, my feet are aching from dancing with Harry, and in fact I’d like to sit down.”
Draco mentally sniggered at her lousy excuses. He grinned when the tempo of the music changed. “It’s a slow song now, you won’t have to move much. And I won’t step on your feet, I swear. Just one dance?”
“Go on, Hermione,” Mr. Blackwell said, in a tone of voice that made it seem like an order. “Dance with the boy, for heaven’s sake! What is the problem with young women these days? Why, in my day-”
“Fine,” Hermione snapped, taking Draco’s hand, still looking uncomfortable. She scowled as his grin widened, and followed him onto the dance floor. “You’re mad, Malfoy,” she muttered as he maneuvered her into position. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Draco smiled and began to lead. “I’m perfectly sane, Hermione.” He chose to ignore her question. “How have you been?” As they danced he tried to relax, tried to slow his heart rate, which had accelerated when he had approached Hermione and Mr. Blackwell. He had been nervous, although he hadn’t shown it. But his heart kept pounding in his chest, strong and fast.
“I can’t believe you asked. Or was that sarcasm? Anyway, I’m fine,” Hermione answered coldly, her eyes fixed on a point above his shoulder. She had been watching him surreptitiously the entire evening, and had no desire to look at him now.
“That’s good to hear. Why is it that we lost contact anyway?”
He felt her tense at his question, and her gaze snapped to his. “Lost contact? Is that what you call it? As far as I’m concerned, you have no right to ask that question. Did you ever contact me before? No! I was always the one making the effort, and everyone reaches a breaking point, Malfoy- you of all people should know,” she hissed angrily. “You should know, having been a broken man for-”
“I was a mess then,” Draco admitted. “You of all people should know that. You saw me, you helped me.”
“Well, I’m glad you realize that,” Hermione muttered.
“I realize it, and appreciate it.” He raised an eyebrow when Hermione scoffed. “I mean it. I’m grateful, and I miss you.”
At that, Hermione pushed him away from her. “Don’t- how dare you! Stop talking to me, Malfoy.” He was surprised to see her eyes glistening with tears. “I mean it! I want you to leave me alone. You don’t miss me.” She whirled around, obviously desperate for some privacy. Draco caught her wrist and pulled her back to him.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, refusing to let her go despite her struggles. “Shush,” he said, hoping to soothe her. “Come here, you’re causing a scene.” He tried to pull her closer to him but she managed to free herself and walked away as fast as dared to go on her new high-heeled shoes. Unfortunately for her, that wasn’t fast at all, and Draco caught up with her easily outside the ballroom.
“Leave me alone,” Hermione repeated, drawing out her wand. “If you don’t want to cause a scene, just leave me alone.”
Draco drew out his own wand, just in case she decided to put her considerable skills to use. “I want to talk. You can’t expect me to just let you go without getting any answers! I don’t even know why you left the first time.” He spied a door not too far away. “You’re overreacting. Be rational. Look, there’s a room over there, let’s discuss this properly.”
She appeared to think this over. “On one condition.”
“What?”
“Once we’re through, you don’t bother me again, and you never ever force me to dance with you again.”
Draco bit back a smile. “Whatever you say. Now come on, before your friends start looking for you.”
Hermione looked around, hoping her friends were already on their way, but seeing no one decided to follow Draco into the room. It turned out to be a sitting room, but Hermione ignored the seats and headed for the window. It surprised her to see that it was raining. And if Draco hadn’t stopped her, perhaps she would have run right out of the party and into the rain. It would have been freezing, but she wouldn’t have stayed out long. Just enough to get some fresh air, then she’d Apparate home…She really didn’t feel like having any sort of discussion with Draco, but it seemed like she had little choice in the matter.
“Can you see anything out there?” Draco asked, his voice interrupting her thoughts.
“It’s raining.” She turned away from the window, deciding it was better to get everything over with. “Well? Start talking.”
Feeling uncomfortable with her taking charge, Draco decided to ask her a question instead. “What did I say to make you cry? I didn’t insult you or your friends, or Muggles in general. You completely overreacted! What’s wrong?”
Hermione took a deep breath. “I’m going to ask you something in return, and I want you to be completely honest with me.” Draco hesitated, then nodded. “How long was it before you missed me? Before you noticed I hadn’t contacted you? Did you notice the first day?”
“No, I did not notice the first day. I didn’t even notice until-” he trailed off and looked at her, making sure she wanted to hear the answer, “until about a week and a half later. You shouldn’t have asked if you can’t take the answer,” he said hotly, seeing her wince and hang her head. “And you know what’s worse? I wouldn’t have noticed if my mother hadn’t asked where you were.”
“It’s nice to know that after months of- of being there for you, you finally realized I was gone,” Hermione said bitterly.
“Is that what this is about? You know how I was back then- why did you expect more from me?”
“Don’t complicate this, because it’s really quite simple. I think the most important question you should be asking is why was I there in the first place, not why I left.”
“Then just tell me already!” Draco sat down on one of the chairs near the fireplace. “You’re the one being difficult.”
Hermione’s expression darkened, but she didn’t comment. “When I got back from Australia with my parents, it was all over the news that you had been sentenced by the Wizengamot to a month in Azkaban. I didn’t agree with the sentence, but I couldn’t do anything, so after your release I went to see you. And you know the rest. There you were, a wreck of a boy, your parents still in prison. I did what anyone would have done after seeing you- I stayed. At first you seemed to be in a depression, but after a while that lifted, and you were just a spoiled brat, who apparently didn’t give a damn about the people who cared for him. Merlin knows why I tolerated you for so long, but I honestly believed you’d change. Then your mother was released, and she was sick. I stayed for a bit longer, thinking things might change when you had responsibility over someone, but although you began to care more about things other than yourself- namely your business and your mother- I was still neglected and underappreciated.” Hermione paused, blinking rapidly. She couldn’t decide how to continue. “It hurt, honestly. I’d been insulted before for my blood status, my looks, my blunders, but I’d never been so- so hurt by the apparent apathy of someone who I honestly cared about! Harry and Ron asked me why I put up with you for so long, and I didn’t know. They said I was like a battered wife who wouldn’t leave her husband. I said initially that you needed my help, but I saw later on that I was wrong- you didn’t need me. So I left, wondering if you would look for me. You didn’t.”
For a long while Draco was speechless. “You- you should have told me! Merlin! You knew how self-centered I was then, why didn’t you tell me you wanted me to pay attention to you?”
“You wouldn’t have listened. And because that’s something I shouldn’t have to tell you.”
“That’s something you wouldn’t have to tell other people, normal people.” Draco stood up and stalked away from her. He was clearly frustrated, but she didn’t know if he was upset with her or himself. “You know my past. Spoiled rich kid, forced to either kill or be killed, whose actions could also mean the lives or deaths of my parents. Factor in Azkaban, and is it any wonder I’m messed up?”
Hermione smiled grimly. “Well, that’s the first step, Draco. Admitting you have a problem. The next question is, do you know what your problem is? Shall I tell you? You want to live in a world where you care only of yourself. Like a child, I suppose, who is completely dependent on his parents. You want no responsibility towards others, because you’re traumatized by that burden Voldemort placed on you. You care about what you do, and what you get, but not who gives it to you.”
“That’s not true. How can you say I want no responsibility when I run the company?” Draco asked defensively. “I care about people! Like my mother, and my father- I’d do anything for them.”
Hermione nodded. “You’ve improved, I admit. But before, when you were just out of Azkaban, you were really self-centered. Or maybe that’s not an accurate description. You were afraid to care for others because you didn’t want to hurt them. In fact, you’ve only just expanded your circle to include precious few people. Do you see how hard it must have been for me? Can you imagine it? Instead of protecting me, it hurt me.”
Draco ran a hand through his hair and walked back towards her. “I can imagine that it must not have been pleasant. But I can’t imagine why you put up with it for so long, or why you didn’t say anything!”
There was a long silence from Hermione, and she furrowed her brows, thinking deeply. “It’s hard to explain- but in a way, I guess I really just hoped you’d come around on your own. And I guess I’m really just like that. I have a thing for lost causes, like the house elves, and you. If it’s too easy, then the challenge is over too quickly, and I have to find another one. I never planned to give up on you, but I was too emotionally involved at the end.”
“What does that mean?”
Hermione blushed slightly. Should she tell him why she really stayed for so long? And that she had left, not because she was really giving up on him, but because she had been heartbroken? No. “Working with house elves is different from working with humans,” was all she chose to say.
Draco waited for her to elaborate, and sighed when she didn’t. “I’m sorry. Even if I keep saying it’s not my fault, that it’s because there’s something wrong with me, it really is my fault. I know now why you left, and I can’t fault you for that. I would have left much earlier. I’m really, really sorry. I hope you can find it somewhere in your heart to do the Gryffindor thing and forgive me.”
Hermione hesitated, then smiled a little, and moved forward to embrace him lightly. “Apology accepted. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, not anymore.”
His arms went up around her to pull her closer. He chuckled at her words. “I assure you, I’m still on the mend.” Draco took a deep breath, savoring the feeling of having her in his arms. “Hermione, I have missed you. And I do care about you. You’re not seeing anyone, are you? What do you say to dinner tomorrow night?”
She pulled back slightly to look at him properly. He was looking at her hopefully, with a smile on his face telling her he was pretty confident she’d accept. She only hoped he wouldn’t hate himself when she refused. “I- no, Draco, I don’t think so,” she said, faltering slightly.
“Oh.” He looked crestfallen and quickly stepped back and out of her embrace. “I thought you might say that. I’m not good enough.”
Hermione shook her head sadly. “It’s not that. It’s just that you say you care for me, but I’m sorry, Draco, I have to disagree.”
He looked angry again. “How do you know how I feel? You may be a know-it-all, Granger, but don’t presume to tell me something that only I can know.” Draco glared at her, and when she began to defend herself, he continued his rant. “Just because you’re so much better than me in so many ways, just because it’s taken me a long time to see it, doesn’t mean it’s not true. Please.”
“Draco. Aside from what you’ve told me just now, have you ever given me a reason to believe that you care? Back in Hogwarts, or after the war? Why didn’t you look for me after I left? Why didn’t you talk to me until halfway through tonight’s ball? Don’t tell me you care, show me!” Her heart was pounding with a wild hope that he would realize what she was trying to tell him, that she desperately wanted him to care but needed to believe it before she would commit herself to him.
Without hesitation Draco reached out and took her face in his hands, pulling it closer to his. He closed his eyes, anticipating their kiss. Their lips were so close that he could feel her breath against his mouth when she whispered “no.” Draco froze.
His hesitation at her whisper gave her time to clear her mind and push him away. She regretted that she had to do it, but his intention, though it thrilled her, was not what she was looking for.
“As much as I- as much as I’m flattered by that, Draco, it doesn’t give me what I’m looking for. It’s not that I don’t want you to want me like that, but I want you to be a friend first of all.” Hermione took a deep breath, tears prickling at her eyes once again. “Ask me how I am, how my day was, what I like doing and what I think about certain issues. When’s my birthday? What’s my favorite color? Get to know me before you decide. Ask me what I want, not just what you want.”
“You want me to be like Potter and Weasley?” Draco asked incredulously. “Merlin, Hermione, I-”
“No one can replace them for me, and I’m not asking you to. You don’t even have to talk to me every day, the way they do. I just want you to have an interest in me, and think about me sometimes. I know it sounds selfish, but we all have those moments. In return I’d do the same.” Hermione blinked rapidly. She tended to get emotional when she thought of how great her friendship with Ron and Harry was, and compounded with the frustration she felt towards Draco, she was at the end of her rope.
“Well, tell me then! Tell me about yourself,” Draco demanded.
Hermione looked at him sadly. “Do you really want to know? Or are you just asking because I told you to?”
“This is so unfair,” Draco said tightly. “You’re being so difficult. I don’t know what to do anymore! I’ll- I’ll owl you. Goodnight.” With a curt nod, he turned away and left the room, slamming the door shut on his way out.
Hermione sank down onto one of the seats, her tears starting to fall. “He didn’t stay, he didn’t even try,” she sobbed quietly, “he doesn’t really care.”
~
“Mother,” Draco said exasperatedly, “you’re no help.” He had, in desperation, turned to his mother for advice, which he was beginning to regret doing. Ever since he had told her that he needed help regarding a certain girl, Narcissa hadn’t stopped smiling and teasing him gently.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t help it! You don’t know how relieved I am to hear you say you want to get serious with this lady, I was starting to worry that the Malfoy line would end with you.”
“Mother!” Draco groaned, covering his face. “I just want her to let me take her out, can we focus on that, please? One date does not a marriage make.”
“Oh, very well,” Narcissa said, still grinning. “Who is it?”
“Hermione,” Draco mumbled, his face still in his hands. “I saw her at the ball last night, and we had a long talk. I asked her out, and she accused me of not caring! She asked me to show her that I cared for her, and when I tried to kiss her, she pushed me away. Women. What do I do?”
Narcissa sighed. “I must say, I’m glad it’s her, Draco. She was there for you when I couldn’t be. I owe her a lot, I suppose. Never thought I’d think that way about a Muggle-born, but I suppose there’ve been stranger things. Of course I’ll help you, dearest. Now, first things first- do you care about her?”
Draco groaned again. “Why do you women have to ask? Would I be asking her out if I didn’t?”
“It’s important. If, for instance, you spent a whole day with her, doing what she liked to do, would you get bored? If she spent an hour telling you about her day, would you listen? Your father was a very attentive listener, that’s what won me over, you know.”
“Lovely. And no, I do not know that I won’t get bored listening to her talk, because I’ve never tried it.”
“The problem is that you don’t know her well enough. Let’s start with something simple. What does she like? What are her interests?”
“Books. House elves. Lost causes. High grades. Her friends.”
“That’s a rather sorry list, Draco.” Narcissa thought for a moment, sipping on her tea. “I think the first step you should take should be the hardest. If she wants to see how sincere you are, take her out to dinner, and invite Potter and Weasley along.”
“Potter and Weasley?” Draco repeated scornfully. “Those two?”
“Potter isn’t that bad,” Narcissa said reproachfully, for indeed she had developed a soft spot for Harry since the war, “and if you want Hermione, you’ve got to take her with those two. She’s very attached to them.”
Draco scowled and stared into the fireplace. A few minutes later, he sighed. “I see your point, Mother. But it’ll be hard.”
“And during that dinner, talk to all of them, not just to Hermione,” Narcissa advised. “She’ll be more convinced of your sincerity. Oh, and it might be a good idea to bottle your memories afterwards, for reviewing. Yes, I think that will work. Go from there, then build your relationship.”
“This won’t be easy.”
Narcissa laughed again. “Who told you it would be? And for heaven’s sake, Draco, don’t owl her the invitation. I know you were about to! Talk to her in person, like any sane wizard would.”
~
Hermione had been having a relatively good day. She had finished most of the work due for the next two weeks, and was looking forward to meeting her friends for dinner. She had heard two of her favorite songs on the Wizarding Wireless, and had received an owl saying that the book she had ordered at Flourish and Blott’s had arrived.
She was in good spirits until her secretary announced the arrival of Draco Malfoy. With a sigh, she called him in.
“Hi,” he began, sounding nervous, but Hermione noticed thankfully that he didn’t bring flowers, “I hope you’re not too busy.”
“I have time. Have a seat.”
“Thanks.”
The awkwardness gave way to an uncomfortable silence, which stretched until Draco coughed quietly. “So, I’m sorry I left abruptly the other night. I was confused.”
“Oh, it’s all right,” Hermione lied, looking down at her hands. “I didn’t stay long after. I was expecting an owl, you know.”
“Hence the locked windows?” Draco frowned, looking around the room.
Hermione laughed. “No, the owls don’t come directly to my office. They go to my secretary’s.”
“Oh.” Draco was unsure whether to laugh with her- although he was embarrassed and didn’t find it the least bit funny- or to just be relieved. He managed a small smile. “I could have owled, but I wanted to see you. And I thought it would be best to extend my invitation in person.”
“Invitation to what?”
“Just to dinner. As friends. I was thinking we could just talk, and get to know each other better. If you want to, that is. And…” Draco trailed off, inwardly groaning, “I think it would be nice if Harry and Ron could come too. Because I know that if I want to spend more time with you, it’ll mean spending more time with them. So we’ve got to start acting like adults.”
Hermione gaped at him, her mouth open unflatteringly. After a few moments she pulled herself together. “Do you mean it, Draco? You won’t hurt them?”
“I promise.”
“Even if they hurt you?”
Draco hesitated. “I’ll try my best.”
A slow smile spread across Hermione’s face until she was beaming. “You’re serious, aren’t you? Oh, this is great. When will we have it? I’m meeting them for dinner tonight, but maybe the night after will do? I’ll ask them. Where did you have in mind? Oh, and will you be free tomorrow night?”
Draco grinned at her excitement and began answering her questions, glad that he finally seemed to do something right.
~
“I think we should get going,” Hermione said apologetically to Narcissa and Lucius. “We made plans to have tea with my parents. Thanks for lunch.”
“I’ll get your bag,” Draco said, standing up. “Don’t move, I won’t be long.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I’m carrying a baby, not a bomb. I’m not that fragile.”
Lucius made a grumbling sound while Narcissa laughed. “The Malfoy men tend to forget that women are often times just as strong as them. I’d like to see them bear the pains of childbirth!”
Hermione chuckled, patting her slightly bulging stomach. “Well, I shouldn’t complain about Draco being overattentive, considering he used to be just the opposite.”
“And you’ll never let me forget it,” Draco said, coming back into the room with his wife’s bag. “Come on, then. We don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“I’ll see you soon,” Hermione said, kissing Narcissa on the cheek and giving Lucius a little wave.
“Be careful,” Lucius reminded her, making Narcissa roll her eyes.
“Let’s go.” Draco took Hermione’s arm and led her to the Floo area. “Hermione, are you sure this is better than Apparating?”
“For the millionth time, yes.” Hermione turned towards him and slipped her arms around him. “Trust me, Draco. I’m taking care of myself. I love this baby just as much as you do, if not more. So please, stop nagging. I’m being careful.”
“All right. But you do all the difficult work, I feel like this is the least I can do for you.”
“That’s sweet. Where’s the old Draco and what did you do to him? Not that I’m complaining- much.”
“Oh, you’re hilarious. And I’m being sarcastic, by the way. In case pregnancy ruined your ability to tell. And to answer your question, he just needed to realize that you’re so much more interesting than he could ever be, worthier of his affections than even himself.”
Hermione laughed. “I beg to differ.” She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. “By the way, did I tell you Harry and Ron would be there later?”
“Ron told me.”
“Really? I think I feel jealous.”
“Don’t be. I really don’t swing that way. Now, for the last time, let’s go.”
With a flash of green flames, they were gone.
The End
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