Yours in Mayhem |Dramione

27 six years post hogwarts: twentieth letter

"Don't you think we both have enough regrets already?" Astoria stood up and kissed him on the cheek. Her lips barely touched his skin but she made a great show of it by exaggerating every single movement. "So many things left unsaid. Too many things to carry to our graves. Don't sink now, darling."

Astoria Greengrass lost her girlfriend in the war. Same sex relationships have been frowned upon in the wizarding world ever since the world begun, thinking that such had no future. Astoria being the Slytherin that she is wanted to keep it under wraps, a secret rebellion, but her girlfriend, a pure blood Hufflepuff, wanted them to have an equal opportunity at love. But that would never happen now because how can a still heart continue loving a beating one?

'Give me somebody to love' was all she said to Draco the moment he asked her if she wanted anything from him. It was the condition that Astoria asked of him, they'll both gain something from the marriage. Draco will finally get his inheritance and Astoria will have someone to give her love to. At least one of them will be happy.

"How are you?"

Draco looked up on the place left open by his wife. The sun was less blinding now, a cloud overshadowed it. But there are still sunspots everywhere. "Possibly the best day of my life," he replied dryly.

Hermione smiled down at him. Her cheeks were flushed with being out in the sun too long, her creamy skin a bit tanned now, exuding a near golden hue. She was precious, a vision in her white empress cut dress with trimmings of cream colored flowers. Why does she have to wear white of all days? He can't help but think that if they were the only two people... If they were the only ones left... If...

"And how is married life treating you?" He asked back.

Her smile gave nothing away. "There are good days and there are better days."

"Back at it with the cryptic as hell Gryffindor optimism. I was practically asking you to piss on my parade, Granger. Come on, go at it," Draco egged on. Surely her marriage to the Weasel isn't perfect.

"Oh, Malfoy. You'll see for yourself," Hermione said while taking a sip of her tropical fruit juice. Ever the buzzkill. She still thinks she knows more than him, somethings just don't change, do they? "Just wait for it."

"You could be wrong, Granger. Speaking from my one hour and 36 minutes of marriage I can actually say that so far it has been peaches and cream," a tray with peaches topped with cream appeared beside him to which he wrinkled his nose, "Maybe fruit tart topped with honeyed almonds." His request floated towards them and he happily picked a tray of the delectable treat.

The taste of the fruit tart on his tongue brought a wave of immediate, unstoppable nostalgia, of a particular moment of awkwardness that would never have happened if he was not struck a hair's breath away from death with Dark Magic by none other than Harry cringe face Potter. To be honest, Draco had never had mushroom soup before and the taste reminded him of a swamp but he finished every bit of it. And he had stored that encounter in the very depths of his mind. Unadulterated. To be retrieved whenever he seeks to humble himself-- it, of course, doesn't happen.

"Always so endlessly fascinating," she said with good natured sarcasm. She has matured so much from the bossy know-it-all girl but he knows that the girl is still in the fringes of the beautiful woman. He would like to think that he matured as well from the spoiled prat he was back in their school days.

"Ha. What else could I be?" He drank more of the champagne. It has started to taste like sunshine from being out too long, exposed to the elements-- sweet, warm and subtly tangy on his tongue. Or is it because he was standing next to her? If anything it tastes better.

Soft music started to play.

Draco frowned when he saw his bride by the musician's table. She's talking to the band; half witch, half sirens, that his father didn't approve of but Astoria won by saying that they are her favorite band and she will have them or not get married at at all. He then watched as his wife led his father to the dance floor, each with a gaze to kill. His mother watched in amusement.