A Night to Remember

The Prophet lay in front of her, opened to pages four and five. He'd done well, Draco had. Not the front page, of course, but still the national news. "Malfoy wedding announced," the article's headline exclaimed. Draco didn't look thrilled in the picture; a cold, almost dead smile glued to his face, while his eyes belied any emotion the empty smile tried to convey. Pansy, on the other hand, was grinning deliriously and waving at the photographer. She'd got what she'd always wished for, after all.

The wedding was one week from today. It was sudden, but not unexpected. Hermione leaned her elbows on the paper on the table, covering Pansy's waving hand, and sighed as she rested her head in her hands. She remembered the last time they'd met so well. It had been four years after their first awkward but addicting time in the Room of Requirement, four years to the week, she'd calculated later.

They had both graduated from Hogwarts in their seventh year, Hermione achieving Outstanding in all but one of her N.E.W.T.S. The world had been hers, but while the offers for various positions including some at the Ministry had begun rolling in, Professor Flitwick died an unfortunate death in a broom accident, and Hermione had taken on his job of teaching Charms at Hogwarts. She enjoyed it, and an added bonus had been that she and Draco - for they had long dropped the last names - continued to meet, the Room of Requirement ever proving its name's worth. She would light a fire, and as the flames began licking the logs, she'd enter the Room, which usually appeared adjacent to her own these days. Draco would floo in and follow her, and their nights together had been as passionate, if not more so, as in those first days, for time had continuously made them better acquainted with each other's wants, needs and kinks.

The last time Hermione had seen him, now almost four months ago, had been no different up until the point where they were both satisfied to the core, and, somewhat worn out, they had lain together, arms wrapped around each other. Then, rather out of the blue, Draco had grown quite grave. Seeing his smile fade, Hermione had known something was the matter, and she feared she knew what it was.

'Mione,' he said. The pet name had slipped into his conversations with her in the year after they'd graduated. It had made her laugh at him the first time he'd said it, which in turn had angered and embarrassed him so that he didn't say it again for weeks. She'd come to like it, though. 'I need to tell you something.'

'Yeah?' Hermione asked, cuddling up to him a little more. She could feel the fear constrict her throat, and it was hard to get the words out. 'What is it?'

'I'm getting married.'

Hermione swallowed hard. It felt as if something had a tight grip on her heart and was trying to squeeze all the life out of it. 'Who is she?' Trying so hard to keep her voice steady.

'Pansy.' He didn't sound very happy.

A harsh chuckle escaped her as she wrenched out of his arms and turned around, her back to him. 'Lucky girl.'

'I'm sorry.' He meant it, she could tell. 'You knew... you knew this was going to happen someday.'

That was true. She'd always known they had no future together. He was Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius, heir to the Malfoy fortune. A Slytherin, like his father, and a pureblood, who was supposed to marry a pureblood to continue the Malfoy family tree, and inherit all of his parents' possessions. She'd always known it, and yet it hurt even more than she'd anticipated.

She should've never fallen in love with him, of course. She cursed the day she'd realized it, the moment he'd walked into the room with that annoying arrogant smirk on his face and that air of owning the world and everything it included, and she had looked upon him and felt her heart surge. It still took her some months to finally admit it to herself, and he could never know, of course. And so, although they had put the true insults behind them long ago, the banter had never stopped. And they always said goodbye at dawn.

Oh, it was not as if he was devoid of feelings for her. She knew he had come to care about her, she could see it in his eyes when he looked at her, and feel it in his touch on those nights that they made love instead of fucked. But it wasn't enough. Draco's spot in the world had been carved out for him the moment he'd been born, and the place at his side in it was not for her. He never had called her a mudblood again, not since the first few times they had acted on what had then been but sheer lust. But she knew that to his family, a mudblood was still what she was and what she would always be.

'Hermione,' said Draco, when she didn't speak. 'You... you'll find someone, too, you know. Someone who's...' he trailed off, not sure how to continue. Voice clipped, he added: 'I wish it were different, but it's not.'

She had laughed. 'Don't flatter yourself. I'll get over you quicker than she can make you come.' But her voice had sounded too shrill and she couldn't say anymore or she knew it would break, and he'd known it, of course, like he always did, and he had turned her around and pulled her close and kissed her tears away till it was almost time for him to leave.

'Draco?'

'Yeah?'

'All we'd do is fight, anyway. Can you picture us as a married couple?'

'No. You?'

'No,' she'd said, thinking, so hard, 'yes.'

That was four months ago now, and finally, here it was, the official announcement. Pansy. Hermione cringed. She almost felt sorry for Draco. It was, in a way, their fault, Draco and hers. She knew he had not been participating in pureblood dating circles too actively, on account of their strange, well, could you even call it a relationship? In the end, young as he was, his parents had decided it was time for him to marry, and Pansy, ever waiting-in-the-wings Pansy, had been the obvious choice.

'The picture's dreadful, isn't it?'

Hermione hadn't heard the door open. Lifting her head, she turned around to face him. He looked gorgeous, clad head to toe in luxurious robes of deep blue velvet. His light blond hair was untied and fell loosely around his face, framing the smile that lit up his grey eyes. 'I thought you weren't going to come,' she said, echoing a sentiment he had expressed to her long ago.

'Of course I was,' he replied in turn, grinning. 'Took me long enough though, didn't it?'

Hermione nodded, laughing, as she got up from the table and walked over to him. Putting her hands on his cheeks, she stood on her toes and kissed him, eagerly. Pulling back, she said: 'It's so good to see you.' Her voice betrayed only a tiny bit of the emotion she felt. She had missed him so much, but she had had quite some time to prepare for this, and she was determined not to let her sadness ruin their last night together.

'You too,' he said, in an almost-whisper.

Blinking back her tears, Hermione kissed him again, hard, and his response was immediate. Tongues intertwining, he ran his hands down her body, touching lightly through her teacher's robe all the sensitive spots he knew hidden beneath it. He pulled back from her mouth and nibbled on her upper lip, sucking it, before he began planting kisses all over her face and neck, up to her left ear. 'On the bed, tonight?' he asked teasingly as his hands continued to roam her body. Sucking softly on her earlobe, something he knew drove her wild, he made her gasp. Hermione nodded. 'Yeah, the bed's good,' she said, pressing against him. Four months. It had been far, far too long. She wanted him so badly now that the ten or so steps it would take to reach the curtained four-poster seemed an impossible undertaking, but Draco swept her up into his arms and carried her over to it. Hermione was squealing with laughter at this odd gentlemanly gesture, but as he dropped her on the mattress unceremoniously and moved on top of her, Hermione's laughter quickly subsided. Kissing each other feverishly, Hermione could tell he felt as frantic as she did.

'Let's make this a night to remember,' he said, as he began to undress her, lingering over every part of her he revealed.

'Yes,' she agreed huskily. 'It's all we'll ever have,' she thought. 'A night to remember.'

And it was.

EPILOGUE

It was a chilly December morning, seven days later, when for what was possibly the first time in her life, Hermione was running late for class. Standing in nothing but her night-gown, she shivered as she flicked her wand at the hearth. 'Incendio!' The flames came to life, and she made a half-hearted attempt to dress as well as eat some toast at the same time. The truth was, part of her normally so dutiful persona just couldn't care less about being on time today.

Draco had held her mind hostage since they had last met, and she missed him terribly. And today, then, was the day that she'd at last lose him forever to that awful girl Pansy. It was all too much, really, and Hermione found it impossible to do much of anything, let alone eat. Giving up on the toast, she tried desperately to look at things rationally. It was time to move on. Her students were waiting for her, and it was unfair to them and the rest of the Hogwarts' staff if she let her emotions influence her teaching.

It was no use. As she pulled her robe on and stuffed her wand in her pocket, Hermione remembered all the times that she'd loved him, and all the times she'd hated him, and the tears that had threatened to spill all morning finally came. The owl delivering the day's Prophet flew in, offering a minute distraction as she paid it and dropped the paper on her bed. Sitting down next to it, she buried her face in her hands, finally allowing herself to cry freely.

A sudden roar of the fire caused her to look up, and through her tears and the flames she saw the distinct figure of Draco Malfoy appear in the hearth. Stepping out of it he stood brushing some soot of his green cloak with the silver fastenings, looking quite unsettled. His hair was a mess and he looked tired, as if he had not slept in a week.

'Draco!' exclaimed Hermione, rushing at him. Her surprise bordered very near on shock. Today was... 'What are you doing here?'

'I couldn't, 'Mione,' he said calmly, smiling at her. 'I couldn't do it.'

'You mean...?' She couldn't believe it.

'I couldn't marry her. I gave it all up.'

'But, you're insane!' said Hermione, astonished.

Draco's smile turned into a smirk. 'I'm insane?' he drawled, looking her over. 'I'm not the one blubbering over some bloke I used to shag silly for four years.'

Hermione smiled back at him, smearing her sleeve as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. 'That's not all it was, was it?'

'No,' he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. 'It's not.'

Hermione buried her face in his hair, sighing deeply as she inhaled the familiar scent of him. Somehow he always smelled good to her, whether he was clean and, as usual, immaculately dressed, or post-sex luscious and sweaty, or now, more in disarray than she'd ever seen him before.

'I hate you,' she whispered in his ear, kissing him. She could feel him smile against her cheek. They both knew what it meant, this time.

'I hate you too, 'Mione,' he replied.

They stood holding each other for what seemed an eternity. At last, Draco spoke again. 'Could I stay with you for a bit? I don't expect father should let me in the house again.'

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Hermione couldn't help but chuckle. Draco Malfoy, homeless, it was beyond anyone's imaginings. And he did it for you. 'As long as you like.' She kissed him again, simply couldn't get enough of feeling him close. 'And Draco?'

'Yeah?'

'Do you really think all we'll do is fight?'

Now it was his turn to chuckle softly. 'Nah. That's not all we'll do. We'll also shag, a lot, and hate each other, and drive each other mad... and love.'

The only answer to that could be another kiss, so Hermione gave it, gladly. 'Yes,' she said, feeling thoroughly elated. 'That's what we'll do.'

~the end~