after you | dramione

7. memory of you.

A/N: I saw this comment of someone on chapter 6 saying that they really wanted to read this story but because it's incomplete, they won't. This chapter is for you. You have given me somewhat of energy, you can say. All too suddenly, I'm enjoying writing this. Let's see how it goes.

For the next two weeks, the sinful memory of a the woman he had kissed, plagued Dracoʼs mind. He had half the heart to go back to her place and inquire what the hell was all that about and also, at the same time, he wanted nothing to do with the confusing aftermath. Place yourself in his shoes- what would you do? With Hermione giving him such mixed with her half answered questioned and pitiful gazes, it was upto Draco to take action; that is, if he desired to.

It was not helping that Astoria kept bugging him about their wedding preparations. As a woman getting married, she was in the right, Draco told himself. She was extremely excited about finally tying the knot with the man she loved, what was so wrong about that? It was for this particular reason, Draco responded to each of her questions, even the most remarkably stupid ones, with utter patience and serenity.

Here is how their latest conversion had gone.

"Which napkins? Gold embroidered or rose gold?"

"What is the difference?"

"Okay, gold it is then."

When Astoria had come for the nth time to the vast library that day, Draco had promptly closed the book in frustration. While he did not know that he had been quite a bully back in his younger days, the Draco he was now was different- he knew better than to lash out on anyone. If someone from the past saw him, they'd be shocked to their very core.

"What now, Astoria?" it seemed like he was not going to get any peace in here, in his own house. His fiancé would make absolute sure of that.

The solemn expression on his face made her think twice before opening her mouth.

"Uhm, nothing." she cast her eyes on the wooden floor, embarrassment coloring her features. A rosy shade of red invaded her cheeks.

Draco noticed.

"Is something wrong?" his voice softened. Even though he had been very careful to not express his anger, he might have unintentionally let it slip every now and then; or so said the popping vein in his forehead every now and then.

"Didn't you see me?" on cue, she gave a twirl and that was when Draco realized she was in a delicate champagne dress that reached her mid-thigh. Her collarbone were highlighted in the dress, as well as her shoulders.

"It's for the after-party...uhm, the wedding," she added as an extra detail.

Draco figured it was more to keep away the tension in the room.

You didn't even notice your own fiancé, the woman you will marry, in a dress? What is wrong with you? Draco scolded himself with a shake of his head.

Realization dawned upon him— Hermione was still on his mind and Astoria had long gone.

"Oh," what else to say, he pondered. It was pathetic that a woman had his mind right in her palm without even knowing it, and it was not Astoria.

"You-" he cleared his throat, gripping the collar of his shirt. "You look good."

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Astoria seemed to catch up on his word choice. Draco watched her bite down on her bottom lip and push stray, dark ringlets away from her face. And then, there was an awkward silence— different meanings and reasons for both of them. With Draco in thought of being the most horrible fiance in record two weeks and Astoria, in sheer embarrassment that the man she had surrendered her heart and body over to, suddenly, just did not care. Five minutes of heavy silence loomed over them like a thick cloud until he could take no more. Draco tipped forward and gently grabbed Astoria by her naked shoulders. His own shoulders slumped in defeat as he leaned his forehead with hers, eyes closing. He was not too tall, but compared to Astoria, he still held the advantage of a few extra inches- precisely what made him lean in. The woman in question froze, her arms immobilized beside her.