Players And Pawns

Players And Pawns

CHAPTER THREE

He sat away from the tent, on a bench tucked away in the garden, watching everyone in the tent. Toasts had been made and dinner cleared away, although some people still sat snacking and talking, getting drunk on the champagne and wine that never disappeared. Hermione and Draco were now in the middle of their first dance as a married couple.

They were married.

Despite his interruption, they were now man and wife. He was still in awe of what he had done. What had he expected to happen? Had he really thought that Hermione would abandon everything? That she'd throw her ring at Malfoy, drop her bouquet and walk out of the hall with him to the Three Broomsticks to have a butterbeer with he and Ron? Had he thought she would tell him that she didn't want to marry Malfoy, but she wanted to marry him instead?

Who knows? Maybe if he stayed... If he had only told her...

He'd never know... Not now. But it didn't matter. He'd left and she got married.

He was insane.

She would probably never forgive him for this. He would have been better off if he had refused to show up like Ron had.

Ron. What would Ron say about this?

The reception was in full swing now. Most of the guests had traveled to the dance floor and were happily dancing to the beat. Children ran around the tent playing what seemed to be a game of tag, while their mothers chased them with coats.

What he wouldn't give to be part of the festivities, to erase what he had done. If only he hadn't been so foolish, he'd be in there with her right now, smiling, dancing and celebrating. Sure he wouldn't honestly be happy, but she would. Instead, he sat out here, freezing off the better part of his ass, watching from a distance.

"You're going to catch your death out here." He jumped up, turning to see Hermione standing behind him in all of her wedding finery, wrapped in a coat for warmth. Damn her and her ability to Apparate. It always scared the shit out of him. At least she was better at it than the Weasley twins had been. They'd want to be in his room and would end up on top of him on his bed. He brushed some loose snow off of the wooden bench. Gathering her skirt together, she took a seat, he followed suit.

"How did you know where I was?"

"I knew you wouldn't go far. You wouldn't go without saying goodbye. This was actually my fourth guess." They both kept their eyes straight ahead looking at the tent in silence, their breath coming out as plumes of smoke in the cool night air. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," was the best reply he could give. The soft beat of the music wafted in the air. "You should be in there. It's your party."

"I can't have a reception and not dance with my best man." Harry gave a small smile as he stood, offering her his hand. The two came together, dancing to the soft music, so close he could feel her heart beat, feel the heat of her breath against his neck. Her dress made light swishing noises as they swayed on the snow, the vanilla scent of her drifted around them. They continued to dance silently. He didn't want to ruin the moment. He wanted to stay here and dance with her, ignore the real world, forget about reality...

"Harry..." He was silent, knowing what was coming. He just didn't know if he could answer it.

"Yes 'Mione?"

"Why?"

"Because I love you," he answered quickly, quietly. She took a step back. This wasn't the answer she had been expecting. She searched his face for any sign of a joke, but found none.

"What?" This couldn't be happening. Harry sat back down, unable to believe what he had just done. Was one outburst just not enough? That was it; he was clinically insane. He loved her? Since when did he love her?

Since... Well, forever.

"You heard me." In a perfect world, they'd be together. He knew only too well that this world wasn't perfect.

"You can't!" She didn't know what else to say. Love her? Was he crazy? "You can't do this to me Harry." She bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering. "Not now." This wasn't the time to break down.

"Not now? Are you kidding me?" It was the most ludicrous response that could have come from her. "When should I Hermione? When would be a more convenient time for you? Tomorrow? A week from now? A month? A year? When you're having your first child?"

"Don't be stupid."

"I could say the same for you!" He retorted angrily. They stared at each other in an impromptu battle of wills.

"Come inside Harry."

"Not a bloody chance in hell," he replied flatly. Like he could actually face all those people; the questioning eyes, the whispers. And who knew what Malfoy would try to do to him? A duel maybe? Not a chance. He didn't want to make any more of a spectacle of himself than he already had.

"Harry... Please come inside," she pleaded, with her words, her eyes. This wasn't something she wanted to deal with. Late caterers, missing rings, a zit the size of a Bludger on her forehead; these were things she was ready for. She didn't know how to handle this. There was no book on how to fix this. Why now? How could he do this to her? "Please!" Harry shook his head, rubbing his face before raking his hands through his hair, making it even messier if that was possible. His elbows rested on his knees as he watched her. He didn't know what else to do.

"Harry... I'm married," she gave a final attempt at an argument.

"Do you think I don't know that Hermione?" His voice was rising. "I got the invitation, I saw the ring, and I watched some of the ceremony. I'm not deaf, dumb or blind! I know you're married! And there hasn't been one second of my life since you've started dating Malfoy that it hasn't eaten me up inside! I hate that you've married him! That he's the man who's going to make you smile, give you children, grow old with you..." His face reddened as hers began to pale. "Do you think this was easy for me? To sit and watch you get married and to Malfoy of all people. Do you have any idea how that felt? To suck up so many feelings that you feel like you're choking? But I did it because I'm your friend. Because I saw what it did to you when Ron refused to come. Because I promised I'd always be there for you. I love you Hermione, and I'm sorry if..."

"Sorry? Sorry!" Hermione's anger had caught up with her. "For what exactly Harry? For interrupting my wedding and running away without an explanation? Maybe you're sorry for yelling at me. Or maybe, just maybe, you're sorry that you've finally lost to Draco."

"This has nothing to do with him!"

"Doesn't it Harry?" She exclaimed. "Would you even give half of a damn if it was someone else, because you never seemed to care about anyone else I've dated."

"You're missing an important point Hermione. You're not dating, you're MARRIED!"

"Harry, we have known each other for what? Ten years now? For seven of those years, we went to the same school, belonged to the same house, went on the same adventures... and nothing." Tears were welling up, but she pushed them back. She had to get this out. "Do you know how long I had been in love with you Harry? Do you have even the faintest idea? This isn't some recent epiphany I've had; it's something I've lived with for years! Do you know how much it tore me up to see you fawn over girls like Cho? To have you look at them as if they were your world while you looked at me for test answers. Hell, half of the guys I dated, I dated to light a fire under your ass. I even accepted my first date with Draco to get to you," she gave a weak laugh. "I figured if there was anyone who would set you off, he would be the one. He would get your attention, but all I was to you was Hermione, your friend with her nose in a book. In the end, Draco Malfoy, the man who grew up hating me, was able to love me more than you did. It was like fate was telling me I didn't deserve your love." She paused briefly, taking time to catch the tears on the brink of falling. "So don't you dare preach to me about how you're a lover scorned, how your poor heart has been broken from the pain of unrequited love, because I wrote the book on it, Harry Potter." It was about time that Harry was shocked by something said by someone other than him. "You decide to recognize your feelings for me now that I marry Draco Malfoy, but tell me he has nothing to do with it. This is the man you've hated since you first met him and it just happens that now I am worthy of your affection. Give me a break Harry." She was speaking faster than she could breathe. "What am I? The Snitch in some warped Quidditch game you have going on in your head?" This was all a long time coming.

"It's not like that and you know it!" She had hurt him; it showed in his eyes and in some small way, it satisfied her. She took a deep breath before taking the seat next to him again, taking his hand in hers.

"I do love you Harry and I always will, but not like that. Not anymore. I had to get over you once... I can't do it again. It hurts too damn much," she sniffed. "I'm in love with Draco and he loves me. We're married, and there's nothing you can do now. You gave too little and now it's too late." She dropped a kiss on his cold cheek. "My friendship is all I can give to you." A tear streaked its way down her cheek. "I hope that can be enough." Harry stood up, she expected him to walk away. Instead, he offered her his hand.

"Can we at least finish our dance?" She nodded silently, accepting his hand to help her up. She put her arms around his neck and began to sway with him to the music, tears streaming, the melody probably wasn't meant to be as sad as it sounded to them. When it stopped they continued dancing, content just to be with each other, but then Harry heard a whispering in his ear.

"Goodbye Harry." A kiss as soft as the wind touched his lips and he was left holding nothing under the clear night sky.

*****

As soon as she had Apparated back into the tent, she had been found.

"And where have you been?" Draco wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. She quickly turned to face him.

"Nobody, not even the bride, is immune from bathroom lines."

"Well, maybe if you women didn't go to the restroom in flocks, the lines would be shorter," he joked, kissing the top of her head. The restrooms weren't outside, yet her jacket was on. Why was there snow in her hair? And why were her eyes so glassy?

"Is something wrong?" His face had been pinched in thought. Years of breeding allowed him to rebound gracefully from Hermione's concern.

"What could possibly be wrong? I have just married the most beautiful *Kiss* intelligent *Kiss* wonderful *Kiss* woman in the world. Things couldn't be any farther from wrong." Unless of course...

"Here you dears are..." A syrupy sweet voice broke his train of thought.

"Hello mother." No time to think of him now. Draco put it in the back of his mind when Narcissa Malfoy made her appearance.

"The guests have been searching for the two of you, including your parents, Hermione darling," she smiled largely. Hermione smiled back at her new mother-in-law, despite the fake smile she had just received. "They probably want to show off their beautiful daughter. That dress really is perfection on you dear." She gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek.

"A bride's job is never done," she laughed uncomfortably, confused by the unusual display of affection from Mrs. Malfoy. "I guess we should get back in there."

"Actually, I'd like to have a moment with my little boy." Draco raised an eyebrow. "But you go on ahead." Draco nodded reluctantly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. With a parting smile, Hermione walked back into the party.

Mother and son stood side by side, watching Hermione walk back to the center of the reception. When she had gotten lost in the crowd, Narcissa spoke.

"I can't believe you've married. You've grown up so much," her tone was thinly laced with sadness. "I only wish your father could be here now."

"Why? So he could say everything you're too weak to tell me?" He asked coldly, turning to face her. "That I'm making a huge mistake? How my wife is unworthy of being in our family because her blood isn't as pure as ours? That I am a disgrace to my family's name? So one of my invitations could be made out to Voldemort? I'd rather he not."

"Now Draco..."

"I don't want to hear it Mother." His eyes were dark with the memory of his father. "I hope he rots in hell to tell you the truth, but I suppose Azkaban will have to do for now."

"You shouldn't say such things," Narcissa said quietly.

"What things? The truth?" He hadn't wanted to get aggravated today. Not on his wedding day. He had managed to hold it with Potter, but this was too much. "All my life, that man controlled me through intimidation and fear. I was brainwashed to believe hate was okay, that there were people who didn't deserve to live just because their parents weren't wizards. He's the one who gave Ginny Weasley the journal that opened up the Chamber of Secrets. He helped Lord Freaking Voldemort as a Death Eater! The death of Cedric Diggory is on his hands! Who knows how many others he's helped kill? How many other lives he's ruined!"

"Draco! He's your father!" This was one of the few times Narcissa had ever raised your voice.

"He's a power hungry bastard at best!" Draco snapped back. "He was my father when it fit into his schedule or benefited him in some way. Just like you were his wife when he needed something pretty on his arm."

"He only wanted what was best for us," she argued weakly.

"That's bullshit and you know it! The only person that man ever cared about was himself," Draco stated bitterly. "As for what's best for me, it's that woman in there!" He took a few steps towards the crowd before he turned back to his mother. "You can accept that and be happy for me or you could rot in hell with that man. Whatever you do, knock off your cheek kissing. She's not buying it and neither am I." Narcissa's eyes widened in shock. "And never again do I want him mentioned in my presence. He is as good as dead to me. I have no father." With that, Draco stalked off into the crowd.

*****

As much as he wanted to, he hadn't moved from the spot where she left him. He continued to sit on the bench, watching the reception: the dancing, removal and throwing of the garter, Ginny catching the bouquet, the toasts, and the cutting of the cake. He sat on that bench, numb, possibly from the cold, although it was more likely his body trying to fight the pain generating in his heart. He left before they made their silver carriage departure. Walking away from her before she could walk away from him. Walk away to the beginning of her new life. A life as Mrs. Draco Malfoy. A life devoid of Harry Potter.