"Sad thing is, you can still love someone and be wrong for them."
- Elvis Presley
________________________________________
"I can see you're working hard."
Draco had been watching Natalie, who was surrounded by eight men all holding different bouquets of flowers. For the most part, she was going on hysterically about how, no, yellow roses were not what she ordered, and no, sunflowers only belonged in a field not a wedding, and no, she couldn't have lavender because her brother was allergic.
Draco tore his attention from the old bird, letting his gaze rove across the hundred or so other strangers in the Hopkins' garden, each with some kind of decorative material in their hands, and then finally his attention rested on Blaise.
Draco stood from his bench. "I'm working plenty hard at observing," he answered.
"I know exactly what you were doing. You were trying to think of an excuse to postpone the wedding again, weren't you?"
"Please," he scoffed.
"Draco. I'm your best friend. I know these things. And you can't keep doing this to them! What was your excuse last time?"
Draco chewed the inside of his mouth. "That I wanted longer to get to know Ophelia properly as a person," he recited.
Blaise nodded. "And the one before that?"
"Oh, come off it," he snapped. "You're sounding like my mother."
"Because you're being a git!" he said back just as heatedly. "I don't know if you've noticed, but people are actually devoting their time to this wedding. You can't keep putting Ophelia through this –"
"Somehow, I don't think she cares."
"And why might that be?"
Draco gestured over by the hedges, where the new, muscular and sweaty gardener was trimming them. By his side was Ophelia, nodding along as he spoke and laughing awfully loud with her hands on her chest, frequently flicking her hair. As both Slytherins watched, she pretended to drop her floppy hat, and as the gardener bent to reach it she used his momentary distraction to glance at his butt.
Draco looked back at Blaise with a 'do you see now' expression. Blaise clucked his tongue. "Okaaay..." he said slowly. "I didn't realise she was flirty."
"Tell me about it," Draco drawled.
"Alexis is nothing like that with you."
"Lets not talk about her today."
"She fancies you," he teased. Draco gave him a look that made him clear his throat before continuing on. "But yes, what was I saying? Right. There's still Natalie who's about to rip all her hair off over this wedding. And your parents. Have you considered them?"
"Look, these past seven months have been hard, okay? I don't want to do this anymore, it's not like our family needs the bloody reputation back anyway. The whole wizarding world wont stop saying 'thank you for saving us all from Death Eaters, we won't forget this, forgive our mistreatment, blah blah blah'. Sometimes I think Potter should have kept his trap shut about my involvement that night."
Blaise stared at him closely for a moment, then commented lightly, "You're more of an arsehole today than usual."
"Thank you, dear friend."
"I'm serious. You're making things harder than they need to be. If you don't want to marry her, say something to your mother. Merlin, Hermione was nowhere near this difficult when she was preparing her wedding."
"Have you ever thought that –?" The words suddenly clicked, and Draco's head turned back to Blaise so fast he heard a faint crack in his neck. "She's doing what?"
He had not let himself think about Granger in a long time. It was months ago when he came to the conclusion that brooding over her was a waste of time, and he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys did not brood over any girl. So he had stopped causing himself unnecessary grief, and had started focusing on the present, which consisted of fancy dinner parties his family were now always invited to, planning the wedding thing, meeting up with important people from all over the globe to congratulate him on his success of capturing Death Eaters. On the whole, everything was as good as he had hoped for nineteen months ago. They really weren't bad. And he might've actually enjoyed this newfound respect and redeemed life had it not been for the teeny but not so teeny dilemma of missing one Hermione Granger terribly.
Blaise's face had frozen, his mouth parted in an 'o'. He swore, a little loud because some people passing stared, but neither man cared. "Mate, I didn't mean it to come out like that, I was supposed to tell you – actually, she wanted me to tell you, said it was better you finding out from me than some paper, but –"
"She's getting married?" Draco demanded, and his voice was more firm and concentrated than it had been in months. "When?" But Blaise hesitated, and he asked again louder.
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," he deadpanned. "Fucking tomorrow. Wow, thanks for telling me!" he said bitterly. "Really, you're a top bloke."
"I'm sorry. But what good would it do if you had known sooner? You can't do anything, Draco."
"It's only been fucking seven months!" he declared, again with more people pausing as they passed. "Seven. She wasted no frigging time to move on with Weasley, did she?"
"That's not fair," Blaise said, unexpectedly defensive. "She has made it perfectly clear to you from the beginning that he was part of her life. Don't act like she's betrayed you because she has done nothing but try and keep you as unharmed by all this as possible."
Draco stayed silent. What was ragging on inside him was a storm he did not want to let explode, the last thing he needed was to have a fight with Blaise. But hearing she was seemingly doing absolutely fine without him was like twenty Crucio's to the chest.
So he took several minutes to breathe steadily.
"I've got to stop it," he decided quietly.
If he had one, Blaise might have spat out his drink with the indigent expression that crossed his face. "What?" he spluttered. "The wedding?" No answer. "Draco, please tell me you are not serious. There's no way you can do that! None! Are you even listening to me? Draco!"
Blaise was two seconds away from slapping him when Draco abruptly said, "Do you... do you remember the precise words of the Unbreakable Vow?"
"What?"
"Listen to me," he ordered, gripping Blaise's shoulders. "What if we missed something?"
"What?"
"What if there's a way?"
"There is no way! Draco you test this out and –!"
"We're going to the manor," Draco said, and before Blaise could utter a reply he had Disapparated them both.
***
"This is crazy," Blaise said for the two-hundredth time as he paced, "you are crazy! There's your own wedding to be thinking about –!"
"Shut up!" Draco said for the two-hundredth time. He was digging through his father's desk, looking for papers dating way back to July 2002. A part of him knew this was futile, he had thought many times to look back and maybe find something he hadn't before. Each time he had been told it was stupid, though. And he had stopped trying so hard after that because he too believed there was no way or chance in hell. But now strong emotions he'd forgotten he had were pounding through him, the threat so much bigger than her simply being out of his reach, but actually getting married, and all sense had gone out the window. He had to do something.
"He's probably thrown it out by now!"
"Found it."
"What?" Blaise rushed over, looking over his Draco's shoulder at the parchment he laid out in front of them. "I don't believe this," he said.
Draco's heart thumped loudly in his chest as he read. "The last line my father said was, 'and will you, once your purpose is complete, and you have successfully engaged yourself to Ophelia Hopkins, leave Hermione Granger's life?'"
"And?"
"What if..." He trailed off, looking into the living room directly across from the study, the very same room this stupid Vow had taken place. He remembered them holding onto each other, their eyes locked as they both said 'I will' so easily, so simply without even pausing think. He caught flashes of them together as the year passed. The first time he ever felt something for her other than loathing when he found her sobbing on her birthday. The first understanding moment between them as they had dinner with Pansy, his mother and Natalie. The unavoidable smiles. The surprising times when they sided together. He had learnt so much from her, telling her things he had not told anyone before, laughing in a way he hadn't thought he could anymore. And he thought she had learnt from him too. And suddenly, Draco just knew.
"I was never meant to leave," he said softly, putting down the parchment. "My purpose wasn't completed because my purpose was to stay."
Blaise reminded quiet beside him, also staring down at the elegant script of his father, of the words that defined everything.
"It's a nice thought, Draco. I never figured you for a romantic –"
"I'm not being a romantic I mean it, Blaise!" he said angrily.
"And I'm being rational!" he shot back. "If you're wrong, this will irrevocably kill you. You. Will. Die. Are you really willing to take that chance? You don't even know she'll choose you when you show you up!"
"I'd rather die knowing than live the rest of my life wondering."
"Yeah?" he said. "Well, I'm not letting my best friend die! I won't do it, Draco! I'll hold you here by force if I have to."
Blaise was breathing heavily, the distress on his face evident, and it was this that smoothed over his annoyance. Blaise was just doing what any other friend would.
Draco exhaled. "Okay. I won't go if you force me not to," he said, adding as Blaise looked at him in disbelief, "but understand that if you don't let me do this, I will never forgive you."
A pause. Then: "Are you sure about this? Positively?"
"Yeah. I am." He put a hand on Blaise's shoulder comfortingly, offering a slight smile. "Even if this turns out bad, you'll have Pansy and your baby. You've still got your family.
"Not without you."
"You won't need me. Eventually I'll just be the cool uncle who lives alone spending his days drinking with a different woman in his bed each day, and I don't want to turn into that. I want to be happy too. And I won't be unless I do this, so... If it ends badly, you'll miss me and you'll grieve, but you'll get on with it. You'll meet other people with kids. Have those silly family outings with them and talk grown up stuff while sipping wine as your kids run around the table and throw dessert at each other. You'll have everything a person could want, Blaise, and you don't need me to be there for you to accomplish that. I've done that year for my family, and now... now I want to do this for myself. I'm going to find Granger."
He saw then and there that Blaise would let him go, but that did not stop him from trying. "Think of how much you could lose."
Draco shook his head sadly. "That's just it, isn't it?" he said. "I haven't got anything to lose because she's already gone."
***
He waited until tomorrow morning to find Ophelia. Thankfully, it didn't take long. All Draco had to do was follow where the garden was trimmed and perfectly pristine and it led him straight to Sexy Gardener which also meant Horny Ophelia.
She was nodding along eagerly as he told her some story, and when she laughed, she put a hand on his arm. As Draco approached, he fought down the urge to gag.
"Can we talk?"
She carried on giggling.
"Ophelia!"
"Huh?" She glanced at Draco. "What's wrong?"
"We need to talk. Right now."
"Is it important? I'm in the middle of something."
"Most likely the most important thing I will ever tell you." And that was putting it mildly.
She huffed. "Fine." And then to Sexy Gardener, "Excuse me."
They moved over to a somewhat secluded spot, where there was no sign of anyone else to overhear. Draco turned to her.
"You spent a couple of months with Pansy and this is what she does to you?"
"She didn't do anything, I just happen to find gardener a fascinating person –"
"You mean you find his biceps fascinating."
"No – that's not – it's really – ugh!" She threw her hands up in exasperation. "What do you want, Draco?"
"I..." He wasn't sure how to say it. "I can't do this. Ophelia, are you listening?"
She turned her head from the gardener, the expression on her face growing serious. "Can't do what?"
"This. The wedding. Us. Everything."
Her pale eyes pierced his momentarily, and he could see now he'd gained her attention. "You can't...?" She trailed off. Started again. "This isn't one of your strange ways of saying you want to postpone, is it?"
"No. I just..." he struggled, "can't do it. And I don't think you can either."
Ophelia looked away, out past the gardens and to the blue hills in the distance. "I can't believe you're finally saying this now. After all the opportunities you've had. You certainly have timing, let me tell you that."
"Is this one of your strange ways of saying you understand?"
She turned back to him. "I've always understood. I knew from the moment we met you didn't want to go through with this. It's just..." she hesitated, "everyone's going to be so mad."
"Yeah," he acknowledged, "but I think every person is entitled to a moment of pure selfishness. One where they do what they want, not anyone else, and so long as it's worth it in the end, I think it's okay."
She nodded. Did not say anything for a few seconds. "I know her wedding's today, and let me say again you have awful timing. Anyway," she extended her hand and smiled slightly, "ensure to tell Hermione what a lucky girl she is. I must say it was a pleasure being your temporary fiancée."
Draco took her hand. "You'll be someone's permanent fiancée one day."
"I doubt it," she said passively. "But thanks."
Draco headed out towards the house, feeling lighter already, when was a shout of, "Draco!" and he veered around to see his mother strolling towards him, wedding plans in her hand.
"Darling, I'm going to need your shoe size, and you can argue until the cows come home about how you already have shoes but it wont change that they've got scuff marks all over them," she prattled, "not to mention they're bent and need a decent polish for which we do not have time for and Ophelia," (Ophelia was a few metres from them), "dear, your mother needs you in five minutes for a second dress fitting and for you to also pick out the bridesmaids gowns, I'm sorry but they're out of lilac so we'll have to settle for something else, how do you feel about turquoise – Draco, where are you going? Draco? We're in the middle of preparing! DRACO!"
"I'm not dong it," he called back, turning briefly.
"Doing what?"
"Getting married. I have another wedding to catch."
"What? Whose? Draco!"
He glanced back to smile. "I'm sorry, mother." Though he wasn't. Not really.
***
Draco stopped by quickly at Blaise and Pansy's to get information where and when the wedding was supposed to start. The two had moved from Blaise's shabby apartment into a quaint little house in the quieter side of London a month or so before baby Zane Zabini was born. He had Pansy's face minus the... usual nose, and Draco knew he would have Blaise's perfect, unblemished skin even when he grew to be a teenager. Draco was named godfather, and being someone who avoided children at all costs, he had never known the amount of love he could have for a little person who's only words were 'gah' and 'blah'.
After Draco had gathered the information he needed, Pansy tried over and over again to stop him, saying to 'just leave it, Draco' or 'you're too late' and 'Alexis is coming by later, hang out with her' and 'this is only going to hurt you.' But he would not listen, much to her irritation, and soon she stormed away into the nursery.
Draco gave Blaise one final look before he Apparated.
The wedding was on a mount of earth that overlooked the ocean, a cottage sitting in the distance. He could see from where he was standing the altar covered in daisies, the circular tables scattered here and there with vases of flowers, the guests all talking happily and sipping at champagne. The spot he focused his attention to was the white tent ten or so feet from the celebrations. The same hand-me-down tent the Weasley's used over and over again, he noted without surprise.
He knew that's where she would be. Getting ready and probably fixing her dress twenty or so times out of nerves.
Draco wanted to go forward, all he had to do was go around the wedding and slip under the tent, but he found himself suddenly reluctant. How close did he have to get before the Vow was supposed to take affect? How would he know he was right?
He guessed when he finally saw her he would know for sure.
And so his feet took him across to the side, the ground covered in little white flowers (everything was flowers for Christ's sake), until he was right outside the tent. He could hear voices, some squeaky with tears and others high-pitched with excitement. And then he heard it – her laugh, and for a moment his breath caught in his throat.
Taking a long, deep breath, he peered through the slender gap in the tent...
...and did not die when he saw her. Though later, he would wonder if death would've been preferred.
Hermione was standing in front of a full-length mirror, holding a bouquet of wildflowers as she turned to all sides to examine herself. She seemed to glow, with the afternoon sun streaming through an opening in the canvas above. Back exposed with only crisscrossing straps less than a centimetre thick, her wedding dress was a soft cream with the strapless bust lacy and sporting little diamonds, not an overload, but enough so that every time she turned, she would glitter and shimmer like something from a dream. The dress was tight and hugged her body from the bust to hips, where it fanned out lightly in gentle creases of more lace, so dainty and precise he thought one thread out of place would cause the entire garment to unravel. Her hair was up in a messy bun, tendrils of curls framing her face with an elegant tiara resting up top. Her lips were coated a deep red, no eye makeup except for mascara, making her eyes pop and her lashes touch her cheeks when she blinked.
But through all this what Draco saw most of all was how happy she was. She spun around, mouth stretched wide over a smile that crinkled her eyes as she laughed, telling everyone to stop, and that if they started crying she would start crying and they'd all be a blubbering mess before the wedding even began and her makeup would be ruined and do they all really want that on her conscience.
Weasley popped his head through the other opening of the tent, and Hermione squealed and tried to pathetically cover herself up with her flowers as the Weaslette told him in half-hearted annoyance; 'you can't see the bride before the wedding!'
Lovegood commented on the ridiculousness of the old saying, explaining that it didn't make sense, as if she were one to talk about sense at all. Longbottom tried to take a photo that would do doubt turn out blurry or crooked, but it didn't matter. Weaslette had stuck her head out the side where her brother had disappeared, telling him to bugger off. He heard Weasley say something back and she yelled back loudly, "No Ronald! You cannot eat your own wedding cake before the wedding even happens, you git!" Granger and Potter shared a look, and then she smiled again, but this was one of those smiles she reserved only for Potter or Weasley.
As he watched, a weight seemed to settle itself inside Draco, pulling at him until this unbearable tightening sensation filled him. He had came here today believing if he didn't die it would be some kind of victory, but this... this didn't feel anything like victory.
Defeat had snaked its way to him, and hurt, and a bunch of other emotions Draco couldn't describe or knew how to deal with. Because after all he had risked to be here, she didn't even fucking need him. She looked happier than he'd ever seen her. And... and it wasn't fair! This wasn't how today was supposed to go. He was supposed to rush in that tent, whisk Hermione off her feet and elope her in a passionate kiss while she cried about how much she missed him as he told her that it was okay and that he loved her and everything was supposed to work out. Wasn't that how these things ended?
For the briefest of moments, Draco thought about barging in, to let her know that he was here. Maybe even leave her moronic friends so he could talk to her properly. But that was just it, wasn't it. Her moronic friends meant the world to her. Where there was Hermione Granger, there was Ron Weasley and there was Harry Potter. It would always be like that, so why had he thought that he, Draco Malfoy, could change that? His name didn't belong up there with theirs. He hadn't saved Hogwarts from Voldemort, or done any of the things they had. And he realised that even if he went in there and was successful, it would damage her friendship with Weasley forever. There would be awkward silences were laughter normally filled. Repressed anger and unresolved issues and would always be an elephant in the room. Things would change. And as much as he disliked Weasley and Potter, he loved Hermione more.
Draco recalled the night after she had left Weasley when she'd told him about her grandmother's dog, and how she'd had to let it go, even when she didn't want to, because it was in pain. Hermione had explained that that was why she was leaving Weasley. Because she loved him.
Draco loved her.
And he thought maybe that was what he needed to do now. To let her go.
Draco closed his eyes. Breathed deeply. Took a moment. Did not think he could do it, at first. And then he closed the folding of the tent.
He wasn't surprised when it was Potter, out of everyone else there, who saw him. His footsteps where crisp and clear as he followed Draco several feet away before Draco stopped, bracing himself to be yelled at or cursed.
In the end, all Potter asked was, "How?"
They both know what he was referring to.
Draco was not in the mood to make some snide reply; he wanted to leave now before his selfishness got the better of him, so he answered. "I reread the Vow again."
"How did you know for sure you wouldn't die?"
He did not answer that one because he didn't know if he would or would not die. Something flickered in Potter's eyes, pity, and it irritated Draco to no bounds seeing it there.
"I'm –"
"Don't," Draco warned in a low voice. "Don't you dare apologise."
"Malfoy –"
"I'm leaving," he said shortly. Only he made no effort to move. Something was keeping him there. He glanced around them, then said sternly, "She can never know I was here."
"Are you asking me to keep quiet?"
"No, Potter, I'm telling you. You cannot breathe a word of this to her. Do you understand?"
But Potter was stubborn, and he stood his full height until they were eye to eye. "Don't you think she needs to make that decision for herself?"
Draco gritted his teeth and growled, "It'll only hurt her."
"She deserves to know –"
"Damn it, Potter!" he exclaimed, fisting his hair. "This isn't difficult! Just do it, all right?"
He looked as though he might contradict further, his mouth working over insults Draco would never hear, but gradually he simply heaved a heavy sigh. "If that's what you –"
"It is," he insisted. And then he walked away.
***
Excusing herself from Ginny and Co, Hermione went to see where Harry had wondered off to when she saw it. Just a glimpse before it was gone, but it was enough, because there was only one person she knew with that particular shade of white blond. She knew she couldn't have imagined it – Harry was looking off in the same direction.
Hermione had skidded to a halt. Her heart gave a lurch. Harry found her and came over, smiling.
"What are you doing, Hermione?" he asked, amused as his arms rose around her. "Ron might see you, you know."
"Harry," she murmured, her tone strained to stay calm, her smile leaving her face. She wanted to ask, but if she did it would be like inviting back old feelings and thoughts she shouldn't be having on her wedding day. Or, more fittingly, it would set her up for false hope. But she had to know. She swallowed and looked into Harry's green eyes. "Is – is he here?"
"Who?" Harry asked distractedly. "Ron?" He glanced around them.
Hermione closed her eyes. "No," she said patiently. "Draco."
"Hermione –"
"I saw you looking at him." She opened her eyes. "I recognised his hair."
"His hair? You've got cousins with almost the exact same shade!" Realising he had probably expressed too much emotion for someone supposedly ignorant to the topic, Harry shook his head. "How about we head back to the tent? Ron could see you, and if your parents spot you, you know they'll start crying before anything even happens."
He tried to tug her along, but Hermione's heels were firmly planted in the ground. She wasn't going anywhere. "Where did he go?" she demanded.
"I honestly don't know." He sighed. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. I don't like him much, but you do, and I know you miss him. But you can't keep doing this. You can't keep looking for ways to see him again. It's – it's not possible, Hermione. I'm sorry."
Her scrutinising gaze had not left his; she was looking at him intently. He was her best friend. He couldn't fool her. "You're lying," she stated quietly.
Pause.
"So what if I am?" he asked, exasperated. "How does it change anything?"
"It changes everything," she hissed, "because I thought it was impossible for him to be here. I – I've got to see him."
Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses. "What?"
But Hermione wasn't listening; already she was separating herself from Harry to Disapparate. She couldn't really explain it, even to herself, but somehow she just knew it had been him, even though it defied all logical reasoning. It was the same feeling she got when she'd found out she was a witch. She had known it was ridiculous, of course, but she still knew, deep down, that she was different. This was the same thing.
Something pulled at her arm. She jerked around to Harry, looking beyond agitated. "Answer me this," he said in a low voice. "If he was here, why are you leaving now? Why today? When there's tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that? Why today, on your wedding day no less, do you feel you have to leave and see him?" She stared at him, unable to say anything. "What's really going on here, Hermione?"
"I – I can't –" she looked down, up to the tent, to the tree beside them, back to Harry, "I need to go."
She only got two feet away when Harry asked gently, "Do you love him?"
Again, she couldn't answer. "If Ron asks, tell him I'll be back."
***
Hermione went to Blaise and Pansy's. It was the only place she could think to go. Their new place wasn't somewhere she visited often, afraid she would run into Draco, and she did not want him to stop going there because she might be there. So instead, Pansy and Blaise would come over to hers. But with the arrival of little Zane their visits lessened, and she had taken up living with Ron in his new house, so she was hardly at the flat anymore. And without really meaning to she saw less of them.
It was probably rude to yank open the door, but when she discovered it unlocked it was pointless to hide her evident hast.
Later, she would regret pulling open that door. If she had knocked, maybe she wouldn't see what she next saw.
The sight that greeted her was one that earned a strangled sort of sound from her throat, not because it was the first time she seen Draco in seven months, but because Alexis was there too – her arms wrapped snugly around his neck, with Draco's mouth pressed firmly against hers.
________________________________________
I remember JK Rowling say once in an interview about which character she would like to meet, it would be Harry so she could take him out for dinner and apologise for everything she's put him through. I'm not JK Rowling but I would very much like to do that with Draco and Hermione right now.
I think the start of this is a little rushed, or maybe I just think that because I read over it quickly. I would've liked longer without mentioning Hermione. But I also think I've dragged it out long enough and we all need to get to the good stuff. I really hope this was okay though.
Plus, I'm guessing from the responses I got on the last chapter saying 'the end' wasn't as funny as I thought it'd be hahah. I probably shouldn't do that again.
about the loophole: basically, draco's purpose in hermione's life and vise versa will never be complete. pretty cheesy, i'll admit. but if you look on everything that's happened and just how they are as people, you'll see it's not all that far fetched. they challenge and learn from each other in a way nobody else could provide. the lessons they teach one another are infinite, continuing to grow every time they're together. in this way, he will always have a reason to be in her life.