Chapter Text
Draco examined the ledger on his desk and didn’t look up as his mother entered into his study and took a seat in front of him. She was silent as she watched him, his blond head bowed over the leather bound book and thought about the opportunities that Draco had missed in his life. The luxury of never knowing war, pain, or heartbreak. She had caused some of it. Or, at least, she was a party to some of it.
“Draco,” she finally said when he still hadn't acknowledge her presence.
He finally looked up, seemingly surprised by her presence. “Mother? Is something wrong?”
She heaved a sigh. “I’ve gotten a hold of a piece of gossip that I…I think you should know.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Um…alright?” He was confused. His mother knew how he hated gossip, especially if he was the subject of rumors or untruths.
“Hermione Granger is back,” she said and watched as something flashed behind her son’s eyes. However, it was gone as quickly as it appeared. His affair with Hermione had once been the subject of gossip among his mother’s friends, which is how it all came to an end. “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”
“Five years,” he answered quickly. “Why are you telling me this?”
She heaved a sigh. “Your father is gone. I…I did what I thought was best for you and our family five years ago. But I’ve watched you over time, and…I’m afraid I made a mistake in going along with your father.”
Draco leaned forward, propping his elbows on the wood. “Mother, I…could be angry with you, but I’m not. I was passive in all of it. I allowed her to leave. I allowed everything that transpired. I have blame in this as well.”
Narcissa wrung her hands together. “If there is a possibility that you could reconcile…”
“I doubt that is a possibility,” he said sadly.
“But if the smallest chance exists...take it,” she said softly.
“I thought you wanted me to marry a Pureblood girl to keep the prestige of the family?”
She shook her head. “All I want now is your happiness. Astoria wasn’t the solution. Daphne nor Pansy. Maybe you had it and we took it away from you.”
He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll consider it.”
She nodded and stood to leave him alone with his thoughts. He turned to the large window behind him and stared out at the black sky, thinking back on the last time he saw Hermione and how wretched it had all ended.
”You’re engaged?!” She asked as she stormed into his study and threw the Daily Prophet at him. He read over the headline and stood abruptly at seeing his name linked to Astoria Greengrass. He looked up at Hermione and shook his head. “So, the Daily Prophet is lying?” She was in her fighting stance, hands on her hips, head up, shoulders back. However, he could see part of her waiver at the thought that all of this could have been a great misunderstanding.
“They’re misinformed,” he said as he stared at her. She was angry and obviously hurt. She was trying desperately to keep the tears at bay and seemed to be doing a wonderful job of it. “This is the first I’m hearing that I’m engaged.”
She tilted her head at him and folded her arms over her chest. “What are you not telling me, Draco? I want the truth, and not the half-truths that Slytherins are used to dealing in.”
He heaved a sigh. “My parents want to marry me off to Astoria for reputation and money. They mentioned it to me, but I thought…I thought it was a suggestion, not something they actually wanted me to pursue.”
“Then tell them ‘no’.”
He looked down at the paper and frowned. “How?” When he looked back up at her, he felt all of the sadness that was clearly displayed on her face. “How do I put myself first? How do I tell them that I’m not willing to sacrifice everything for our family given how much they’ve given for me?”
“You would consider marrying someone you don’t love for your family?”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been prepared to marry someone I didn’t love since I was seven years old. It wasn’t even something I really thought too much on…”
“And now that you’ve thought about it?” she questioned.
“I love you.” Her arms dropped to her side and her face seemed to be more open. Her face softened and he actually felt his heart physically ache when he realized that he was going to break her heart just as he was going to destroy his. “But I owe my family my life and…we’re nearly financially destitute…”
“Money? You would trade in love for money?” she whispered.
“I would trade love for my blood.”
She took a step back and was actually surprised she didn’t hex him. Instead she frowned and the tears she had been holding back flowed freely down her face. He wanted to turn away, but he knew that he caused her pain and so he should have to endure what it looked like. “Blood. It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?”
He propped his hands on his desk and lowered his head. “What do you want me to do? I love you. Hopelessly. Desperately,” he said as he looked up at her. “But that solves nothing. It doesn’t fix the problems that my family is having. We can’t keep up the manor. We can’t keep our company up and running because of the restitution we had to pay. This…this could fix the problems my family is currently experiencing.”
She shook her head. “You’re not the man I thought you were…”
He moved around his desk and stood directly in front of her. “I’m…I wish I could do this differently. I would give nearly anything to have you in my life…”
“You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to make promises or declarations to me that obviously mean so little to you.”
“Hermione, please…”
“Please what? You’re going to marry someone else, Draco! What do you want me to do? Be your mistress? Be your pet that you come to see when you feel like a roll in the mud?”
He lowered his head, feeling ashamed because that’s exactly what he was hoping for. “I don’t want to lose you…”
“You already have,” she said as she turned on her heel and left.
It was probably too much to hope that she had remained unattached. It was nearly more than he could bear to even think about the possibility of their being some kind of future with her. Not now. Not after so much time has passed and he hurt her so deeply. He only hoped that she might possibly still have some feeling for him.
He contemplated why he let her leave. And she didn’t just leave his home or his life. She left the country to escape. He had started to owl her a hundred times, to beg her to come back, but the truth was he didn’t think he deserved her. He was always uncertain how to move on from their past that had been so filled with animosity. As he stared at the ceiling, he wondered how things could have gone differently. He didn’t know if they would have made it long term, but the possibility of a future had been enough for him to try. It had been five long years since he’d seen her or heard her voice. Just the thought made his heart race a bit. He had spent so much time burying himself in his work to avoid any feelings about this that now, faced with it, he wasn’t quite sure how he would hand actually seeing her.