What do you do when you’ve become a woman you don’t recognise anymore? Putting on a front to society because the man you fell in love with convinced you so? Can the blame really be on him? It was a conscious decision on your part to morph into someone else, his idealism. You are the one who changed, not him.
The woman you once were is gone now. She’s a mere memory, something of a dream. Forever out of reach. Could you become her again after pretending for so long? Out of the spotlight, now only an accessory on the most famous actor.
How can you claim you’re in love when you had to give up yourself in order to make it happen? Trading your simple violets for extravagant roses?
Hermione used to love hearing the crowd before she performed. She was an artist, she was supposed to thrive off of their excitement. But the woman she was today was vastly different from the popstar she used to be.
It seems like just yesterday she was on tour, growing her fan base with every song. But she knew that wasn’t true. She hadn’t stepped foot on a stage since before him. Funny, how that happened. How you can change your entire persona for a man, how he won’t even appreciate it. He will just help hide you from society, wanting you caged in the confinement of your shared home.
How is that love?
She has mulled over the question countless times. And each time, she’s come up short. Because it wasn’t really love. Infatuation, perhaps. Seeing a free spirited woman and wanting her for yourself. Only content with her after you lock her inside and tell her it’s safer this way. Dressing her up as your personal barbie, the perfect doll hanging off the side of your arm.
If it weren’t so sad, she might’ve laughed at who she had become in the last few years. An accessory. Something shiny on his arm. Locked away from society, only coming out in designer dresses he approved of. Her songs lost their meaning, unheard of by new audiences. She used to be a singer? being the top comment whenever someone discovered her due to her movies.
When she had first agreed to be the closing guest for the Hogwarts Academy, she had no idea the amount of anxiety that would flow through her veins. The rush of an audience was now replaced with the fear of her voice cracking. She would be performing an unreleased song, set to be on all streaming platforms at midnight.
It was her most vulnerable song she would have ever performed. The album she had composed was quite raw, baring her heart and soul for the world to see. She would be telling a vague story of how she had felt, looking back on her most recent relationship. They had wanted an album about the Draco Malfoy, and she had delivered.
The announcer welcomed Hermione to the stage, and she could hear the shocked murmurs around the room. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. She could do this. Holding her head high, she walked out on stage. Her periwinkle dress flowing at her feet, matching heels. It was a statement to those close to her - correction, who used to be close to her.
Hermione found her seat at the piano and took a shaky breath in. And then she began to play the keys.
There’s something in the air.
The girls are running ‘round in summer dresses,
With their masks off, and it makes me so happy.
Larchmont Village smells like lilies of the valley,
And the bookstore doors are opening.
And it’s finally happening…
Hermione Granger used to be someone.
Adored by the public.
She had a name for herself.
She was someone.
And then she met Draco Malfoy.
The summer air was warm, not too unpleasant for this time of night. The music was loud, but the drinks continued to flow. Hermione and Harry clinked their drinks together, losing themselves in the night.
They hadn’t seen each other in the past few months due to conflicting schedules. Hermione had been on tour, at the peak of her career. Harry had been filming for his new movie out of the country. It was rare to still be friends with someone you have known since early childhood, but as they both grew into the spotlight, so did their friendship.
As they got older, they’d always been asked the same question. “When are the two of you going to get together?” All they could ever do is laugh. The question wasn’t uncomfortable for them, mind you. It was just something neither one of them ever considered. They found comfortability and solidarity in their friendship, so why would they try to ruin that over the general assumption?
Of course, this didn’t stop them from feeding into the media when one of them needed to gain attention before releasing something new. They’d like a fan edit here and there, maybe even comment if they were truly bored. Sometimes they’d go to a park where they’d share headphones. Most people speculated she was showing him an unreleased song. But in truth, they were listening to an unsolved murder case. It didn’t matter what they did, the media ate the crumbs they laid before them. It was easy, and it was great publicity.
Harry was the one person Hermione could count on. Neither one had an easy childhood. Harry lost both of his parents before he was two years of age. Of course, he had the loving help of his two uncles who made sure he never went a day without love. But that didn’t stop the depression, nor the bullying. He had never been one to like the spotlight, always being compared to his parents he could only remember through photographs. It was why Hermione had been surprised when he had told her that he had auditioned and landed the role of an up and coming film. And when the time came, she had been his date to the premiere.
Her career started just a year later. A heartbreak album was released in the fall. She had gone from Harry Potter’s potential girlfriend to overnight popstar sensation. Writing had always been Hermione’s outlet, a healthy way to express herself. So when her high school sweetheart found himself in another woman’s bed, there was only one thing Hermione thought she could do. Write.
To her surprise, many women found themselves relating to Hermione no matter their age. They would send her letters and private messages about their own failed relationships and betrayals. She wasn’t able to reply to them all, but she would release public statements showing her gratitude for their support. It didn’t matter the platform, she always made sure that her fans were mentioned. If it weren’t for them, she’d have a completely different career path. So she tried to always speak on their behalf, letting them know she was listening.
The next album she released was more upbeat. There were a few collaborations that gained more traction. Harry refused to agree to be on any of them, of course. She still had faith he’d cave one of these days. He had a beautiful voice. It was just a shame he didn’t share it with the world.
She supposed he felt the same way about her never accepting an acting role. It had always been a dream of hers to star in a hit show or romance film. She had even made a joke once or twice to Harry about how she’d agree to become an actor if her love interest was Theodore Nott. Once just a costar, now a good friend of Harry’s. Hermione had only met him a handful of times when she’d visit Harry on set. No time to talk in between takes, so she’d admire the man from afar.
There wasn’t much on the man. Despite being one of Europe’s most adored actors, he was quite private. There had never been even a rumour of him having a girlfriend or boyfriend. And trust, Hermione tried to research anything about this man. She had long accepted he would be a distant crush, an attraction from afar.
Blinking back into reality, Hermione realised that the man she had been reflecting on was standing right in front of her. Face warming at the realisation he’d been trying to get her attention was mortifying. She looked around to see Harry was now on the dancefloor, defying anything short of anxiety.
Theodore said something, but Hermione only made a face. It was hard to make out anything he had said. Stepping closer, his lips were close to her ear as he said something so simple, yet something she’d been dreaming of him saying. “I was hoping I’d see you here tonight.”
“I hope I didn’t disappoint.” She said back, looking up into his dark brown eyes.
He smiled at her, something obvious shining in his eyes. “Your presence is more than enough to me.”
“I thought clubs weren’t your scene.” She stated, biting her lip as his smile seemed to only grow.
“Well, you stopped coming to the days where I’d be on set. I figured it was time I came to you.” Hermione hadn’t flirted with a man she actually cared for, in, well, enough time to know it wasn’t healthy. Some might say she had lost the quick witted charm. Others might say she had lost the ability to do anything other than blush around Theodore Nott. But he seemed undeterred. He leaned in again, a smirk on his face at the obvious way Hermione was flustered by him. “What will it take to get you to become my next co-star?”
Regaining some sense of herself, Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “And who said I ever wanted to step outside of singing?”
He gave her a knowing look. “Are you saying you wouldn’t want to work alongside me?” Smiling up at him, she laughed. But before she would respond, they were interrupted by security. They whispered something to him before he frowned and nodded once. Disappointment was clear on both of their faces. “Maybe we can discuss a movie proposal over dinner after this film wraps up.” And with that, he was gone.
Hermione didn’t dwell too much on Theodore leaving. Instead, she joined Harry in dancing quite embarrassingly for the remainder of the night. It was easy to be around Harry. She never had to hide her true self from him. She could simply exist, and that was enough.
The night ended with them on the side of the street, getting tacos from a dodgy looking truck. No matter how famous or rich either of them became, both of them could agree that a five star michelin restaurant could never compare to the wonders of a street vendor. It wasn’t always about the money. Half the trick was who you were accompanied with.
Harry hadn’t seen her with Theodore that night, and Hermione saw no need to bring it up. Why must people always speak about romance when they hang out? Sometimes she just wanted to eat the greasiest food on the curb of a street where no one cared to recognise her. She was just like everyone else on these streets. She wasn’t anyone. Just a girl eating a taco with her friend.
They said their goodbyes at the front of Hermione’s hotel building. Harry made a cheeky remark about texting the renowned fashion designer, Pansy Parkinson. He met her on the set of his upcoming film. A childhood friend of Theodore Nott. Harry had been enamoured since. Hermione desperately wanted to meet her. Any chance she got, she requested to wear one of Parkinson’s designs. Her style was unique and captivating. Hermione would jump for joy if Harry somehow managed to get her to agree to a date.
At the front desk, Hermione was checking for any messages while she had been away. As the associate told her nothing came in, she could feel the cameras flashing from outside. Paparazzi and fans alike were outside screaming. She frowned, looking at the associate before she took a magazine to cover her face and look toward the floor. She just needed to make it to the elevator and they’d she’d be out of their shots.
It was two in the bloody morning. Where were they just three minutes prior? There was no possible way that they were there for her… Or else they would have been stationed out there when she arrived hours before. So who was checking in…?
As she turned around, magazine covering her face, she walked straight into a hard object. Large hands quickly caught her at her hips. She gasped at the contact, slowly lowering the magazine just below her eyes. Hazel met ice blue.
“Careful.” He said, a devilish smile as his hands remained on her hips.
She lowered the magazine completely. “Oh.”
A small smirk played on his lips at her simple response. “Not the typical response I get when I save a damsel in distress.”
Hermione arched an eyebrow. “Who said I was in distress?”
He laughed something shocked. “I’m Draco Malfoy.”
“The name’s Hermione Granger.”
“I know.”
Ever since I fell out of love with you, I fell back in love with me.
And boy, does it feel sweet, like a summer breeze.
Ever since I fell out of love with you, I fell back in love with the city.
Like the Paramount sign sparkling, sparkling just for me.
Months had passed and her tour was officially over. While she wished she could stay inside and relax, she knew she couldn’t. Her career was reaching new points and if she took a second to come off the high, she knew her newfound standing would drop. Appearances needed to be made. Inspiration needed to be struck. Music needed to be made.
Hermione never liked the idea of having an assistant doing everything for her. She never felt comfortable putting her grunt work on someone else. She was capable of running her own errands. There was no need to belittle another human being just because she was famous.
And so, she started at the grocery. She stopped in a few corner shops to pick up the knick knacks the other places didn’t have. Briefly stopped at home so the groceries wouldn’t defrost. Went back out, bought a few items. Ran back home so she wouldn’t have to lug it across town. Stopped into her favourite bookstore. Simple in the name, but rich in the literature. Bought a handful of books, knowing she'd be done with them by the end of the week. And just for the sake of wanting to reach out to Theodore, she picked out a romance book she’d be interested in pitching to a studio.
Smiling to herself as she pulled out said book, she had a plan in motion. Hermione picked a small table outside as she waited for her food. Photographs of the book in her hand were already being taken. This was a publicity stunt in its finest attempt. She would read it more in depth once she got home, but the best way to get an idea picked up was for the media to already be wanting her to star as the lead.
But Hermione never wanted to do anything half arsed. Within the past few months, she had been meeting with an acting coach. She knew that singing was her strong suit. Her acting was questionable. And she did not want to even consider being on the big screen if her words couldn't be convincing.
Harry had been delighted. After he teased her, he helped connect her to the top three acting coaches he knew of. She appreciated his effort of giving her options. She stuck with the third coach. She pushed Hermione to do better, to be challenged, in a way the other coaches simply couldn’t.
It was a new project, one that Hermione was passionate about. She was ready to add actress to her resume. Maybe her and Harry could star in a comedy together. She smiled to herself, knowing the edits for the two of them would flood her social media. If she agreed to do a movie with him, maybe he would agree to sing with her on stage one night…
“Don’t tell me Europe’s favourite popstar is changing careers?” A familiar voice drawled.
Hermione peered her eyes over the top of her book, arching an eyebrow when she saw Draco Malfoy take a seat across from her. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.”
She placed the book between them as the waitress put food in front of Hermione, noting down what he ordered for himself. When the waitress left, he cleared his throat. “I must admit, oblivion looks good on you, love.”
“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t want me acting alongside you. Malfoy.” Hermione said, faux concern in her voice. Smiling as she thought back to a different man saying the same words to her, an echo from the past.
He leaned forward, elbows on the small table. “On the contrary, love. Had I known this is something you would consider, I would have had my publicist reach out to yours when we first met.”
“Quite impersonal, no?” She asked, taking a bite of her food.
“I’m here now, aren't I?” Draco replied smoothly.
Silence hung in the air around them. But Hermione couldn’t maintain a neutral expression, a smile breaking through. “Well, I’ve seen your discography. You have only done action films. Romance isn’t really your thing.”
Dismissive. To the point. Hermione wasn’t interested in doing something as challenging as the films she knew Draco Malfoy did. She wanted something sweet, something romantic.
“Who’s to say I can’t do both?” He questioned. She only arched an eyebrow in response. “When news breaks that you want to act, the media is going to paint you in a negative way. They will doubt your abilities. What better way to shut them up than to pull off something they don’t think you can do?”
“I want romance.” She replied back.
And then he smirked. “And I can give you that.”
They finished their meals in relative silence after that. Not entirely uncomfortable. Her plan to be photographed with the romance book was now overshadowed by her impromptu lunch with Draco Malfoy. But as the lunch continued, she forgot about her original plan.
She didn’t know much about him. He starred in only action movies. Dated Astoria Greengrass for years. Hermione had met her once before at an event. They didn’t talk long enough for Hermione to form an opinion on her. The only thing that stood out was how lively she was. Everyone was drawn toward her charisma. She was a shining star. There wasn’t a person who wasn’t in awe of the French actress.
Tabloids caught wind that they had broken up several months ago, no one knowing the real reason behind it. At one point there had been a rumour about an engagement rejection. Hermione wondered how much truth was behind that. She remembered seeing how lovestruck he had been when looking at Astoria. But she knew the tabloids knew nothing, and it was better not to ask.
When they both finished the meal, Draco insisted on paying. Reluctantly, she agreed. Ever the gentleman - read, known PR expert - he walked her home. They were followed home the entire walk, the sound of cameras clicking nonstop. From time to time, they smiled at each other. A secret conversation between their eyes.
“So, I’ll pick you up at eight?” Draco asked once they were inside her lobby.
Hermione rolled her eyes, accepting the books. “Oh, come off it. We both know this was a healthy amount of publicity for us both. I’d rather not overshadow either of our reputations with dating rumours.”
“Granger, if you don’t want to go on a date with me, you can say that.” There was something close to amusement in his voice. She couldn’t help but match the smile on his face. “Eight o’clock. I’ll send a dress over.”
You made me trade my violets for roses.
You tried to trade in my new truck for horses.
Don’t forget all of the things that you love are the same things I hate.
A simple life, I chose this.
Hermione was bored.
That was the only thing she could think of as she mindlessly flipped through the channels. All of her friends had plans for tonight. Not that she could blame them, of course. It was the most romantic day of the year. But as it was, she was single. So Valentine’s Day was quite insignificant for her.
Briefly, she had considered going out to a club. She knew she’d have a time, forgetting about what this day was about. Not that she was complaining, mind you. Hermione didn’t mind being single. She quite enjoyed the freedom it allowed her. But she had nothing to do, no one to spend the night with. Showing up to the club by herself was just tragic, even for her.
So instead, she sat on the couch and flipped through what to watch. She tried to read the book half opened on her couch. But all she found out was that while her eyes were scanning the words, she was not retaining any of the information. It was a disservice to the literature before her. And Hermione was not one to ever disrespect something as precious as a book.
She thought of texting Harry and seeing if he’d bring over cheesy romantic movies to laugh at while they ate takeout. It wasn’t a bad idea. But she shook her head, knowing he had recently been sited with his ex, Ginny Weasley. Not that Hermione disliked the woman. They actually used to be quite close in school. She was the younger sister of Hermione’s ex, Ronald.
Life had been easy when it was just the four of them. Before popularity became a factor. Before life became a reality. The confinement of their boarding school was all they had to stress over. But then Ronald became an athlete and Harry became an actor, and temptations were too much of a desire in their life. Well, Harry never had an infidelity scandal. Him and Ginny just grew apart, their careers taking them down two different paths as the years passed by. It didn’t help that she was a year behind the rest of them, feeling left behind when they all graduated.
Hermione missed her occasionally. They were only close because it had always been just the four of them, forced proximity. But outside of the guys, they didn’t have very much in common. But Ginny represented a time before their lives drifted apart, something close to nostalgia. If Harry decided to get back with her, Hermione wouldn’t judge. But she would sigh at the fact that Harry is going back to comfort rather than going after a woman who represented his future.
The only time he reached out to Pansy was to talk about designs. Something completely out of his element, leaving him a floundering mess. They would be cute together. Hermione had spent a few mornings getting brunch with the dark haired woman. She would challenge Harry, ignite a fire in him that had died years ago. She would be good for him. But he lacked courage when it came to her, and Hermione knew better than to meddle in his love life.
A knock came from her door, making her blink away from her thoughts. She frowned. Hermione was quite certain she hadn’t ordered anything this late. And her security was quite efficient at their job, so she knew someone couldn’t just sneak past them. But still, she hadn’t invited anyone over.
While she was debating with herself over whether or not to open the door, another knock sounded. She narrowed her eyes and slowly got up from the couch, grabbing a frying pan. Just in case. You never knew who could be at your front door. But when she opened the door, she could only form one word. “Oh.”
“Is it the flowers?” Draco asked, looking down at the white roses. “The Malfoy signature is white roses. But if they’re too much…” He said, starting to sound embarrassed. It was an emotion she hadn’t heard from the man before, and it struck her as odd.
“I…” She started, opening and closing her mouth several times before she gave up and just pursed her lips at him. He had a brown bag full of fresh produce, now hanging a bit sadly at his side. Like he was unsure if this was the right move. She smiled to herself, understanding that a man who was so calculated could have overestimated the line they had been dancing the past couple months. Clearing her throat, she leaned her head on the door. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”
He nodded his head once. “I’m aware of what day it is.”
“You didn’t have plans?”
A smirk graced his face, his confidence visibly back. “Granger, you are my plans.”
She pursed her lips to stop from grinning like an idiot, opening the door further to allow him the space to walk into her flat. He made quick work to locate her kitchen. She turned the lights on for him after she watched him fail to find the switch. Draco rolled up the sleeves of his black button down, washing his hands before he touched the produce.
Hermione was the type to burn water, so she opted to sit down and try to wrap her mind around the fact that Draco Malfoy was currently in her kitchen. She knew it wasn’t a far fetched idea. They had been flirting whenever they’d meet for a cuppa or to discuss potential film details. But she hadn’t thought there was anything concrete between them. Of course, she had found the blonde man undeniably attractive. She had eyes. And she knew she was pretty in her own right. But that didn’t stop her mind from reeling as he began to wash the fresh produce.
She thought he was saying something to her, but she was too in her own mind to register anything being said. Did he not have plans of his own? How did he know she’d be home? The man had gone to the store and made the executive decision to just… show up with flowers. Remembering he had brought her flowers, she got up and found a vase for them.
“What are you making?” She asked after some time had passed.
He looked up at her as he began to dice. “A family recipe. My father made it for my mother on their first date.”
“And is this a date?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Yes.” He replied. The confidence in his answer made Hermione pause in breathing. She had not expected him to be this direct with her after the months of their back and forth game. Draco stopped chopping the produce, looking up at her with a worried look on his face. “Unless I’ve been reading your signals wrong this entire time. Then this is nothing more than a good friend making you dinner coincidentally on a romantic holiday.”
Hermione blinked.
Once.
Twice.
“You weren’t reading the signals wrong, Malfoy.”
A slight blush painted Draco’s face. He looked down at the cutting board before transferring the food into a pan. He busied himself, refusing to respond to her. She smiled as she poured herself a glass of wine. The silence between them wasn’t forced or heavy with tension. Hermione found comfort in the sound of food sizzling and Draco Malfoy in her kitchen. And it was in that moment that she realised that he had an actual chance of her falling in love with him.
You made me trade my violets for roses.
You tried to take all the pink of my toes.
And God knows the only mistake that a man can make
Is tryna make a woman change and trade her violets for roses.
It had been two years since they began to film for the movie. It was Hermione’s big break in the industry. The day of the premiere had finally come and her anxiety was at an all time high. Draco had convinced her to sign onto the new action movie he would be starring in, with the condition she would be the romantic lead.
The role had been challenging, to say the least. Draco hired a new acting coach to be with her when she wasn’t running her lines. She lived and breathed with the assistance of the new acting coach. It had been overwhelming at first, to be thrust into a new environment. It wasn’t at the speed she had wanted, and at times, she felt like she was in over her head.
She knew it wasn’t going to be easy. She knew there would be obstacles along the way. But she pushed through it and landed on top. Hermione was grateful for the encouragement that Draco gave her along the way. And with such close proximity, a relationship blossomed between them. The chemistry on screen was easily reflected from what they had off screen and the director couldn’t have been happier about the result. It didn’t hurt that the publicity about their relationship helped the movie's promotion.
Harry sat on the couch as a stylist did Hermione’s makeup. He was flipping through a random magazine laid out from earlier, likely just wanting something to do. When the silence became too deafening, Harry sighed.
“I thought you wanted to do a romance movie.”
Hermione wanted for the artist to reach for a different brush before she responded. “There’s romance in the film.”
“Is there?” He questioned. When she didn’t respond, she heard him sigh again. “I’m worried about you, Hermione.”
Before she could respond, a different stylist walked in with Hermione’s dress for the event. She had been excited about her debut on the red carpet. She had been Harry’s date, of course. But those were to his movies. This one was different. This one was something she put her all into. And the one request she had was that Pansy Parkinson design her dress.
But something was different as the stylist unzipped the dress. It hadn’t been the dress her and Pansy had collaborated on. The colour was off. The design was different. It was all wrong.
Cautiously, Hermione got up from her chair to look at who designed this dress. Hermione’s sharp eyes met the poor woman’s, irritation bubbling through. “Pansy was supposed to design my dress.”
The stylist pursed her lips, looking at the ground for a moment. “Mr.Malfoy had this dress sent over instead.” She took a shaky breath in. “He said you’d understand.”
Hermione closed her eyes, understanding her frustration isn’t with the woman in front of her. “Yes, of course. Thank you.” It was just a dress. It was just for a couple hours. She could wear Pansy’s dress another night.
Behind her, she could hear Harry let out a disappointed sigh. “Who even are you anymore?”
There was a collective gasp from the other women in the room. Hermione lifted her chin, not facing her friend. Knowing she was unable to. One look at him and she’d crumble. And this was still her night. She was so proud of her movie debut. Nothing was going to get in the way of that.
“It was just a dress, Harry.”
“But it’s not. ‘Mione, you have been dreaming of that dress for two years. You and Pansy have been pouring over the details to make it perfect any chance the two of you got. But Malfoy changes the plans at the last minute so you can match his tie and you brush it off?”
“Oh, come off it.” She said, rolling her eyes.
He laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Christ, do you even recognize who you are anymore? Or are you content with being a shell of the woman you once were?”
Hermione finally turned around, her previous anger now resurfacing. She was fighting back tears as she met sad, bright green eyes. But she wasn’t going to let this ruin her night. “I think it’s best you leave.”
Everyone else in the room was holding their breath. Harry shook his head in disappointment. “Don’t expect me to still be around when this goes up in flames.”
She wanted to scream at him that she didn’t mean it. She wanted to tell him that she hated that Pansy's dress was missing. She wanted to confide in her best friend. Everything was wrong. It was all falling apart. But pride was hard to overcome. And so she smiled, emotion lacking from her eyes. “Honestly, Harry. When was the last time you actually did anything with your life? Fawning over Pansy since your career started and you’re no closer to having a genuine conversation with her than you are about making your next career move.”
“When was the last time you asked me anything about my life, ‘Mione?”
She crinkled her eyebrows. “What?”
“You have completely removed yourself from any narrative that isn’t Draco Malfoy. Do you even remember what having a friend is actually like? Can you remember how to compose a song? When was the last time you had a conversation and the topic wasn’t him?” Harry continued to press on, tone lacking any sort of passion. Resigned.
They both stared at each other, the silence deafening.
“I believe this conversation is over, Harry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Don’t expect a response. I’m done catering to you, Hermione. The woman you are is not the woman I grew up with. The woman in front of me is just some bitch who decorates the arm of Draco Malfoy.” He clasped his hands together. “But congratulations, you became the very thing we used to make fun of.”
“Leave.”
As the door slammed shut in his absence, Hermione allowed herself one second. And in that one second, she allowed herself to grieve her friend. They’d make up in a few days, when things blew over. She wasn’t concerned with their blow out.
When she opened her eyes, she plastered on a smile. She clasped her hands together, looking at the quiet staff who didn’t want to meet her gaze. “Well, I can’t dress myself now can I?”
RIght before the red carpet, Draco met with Hermione. And just like Harry said, it was only Draco’s tie she would be matching tonight. The periwinkle dress could wait, she reminded herself. There would always be another occasion for it. In order to maintain a social standing in this industry, she had to be able to adjust and accommodate to last minute changes. This wasn’t anything new.
The cameras began to flash in their direction, perfect smiles on both of their faces. She turned ever so slightly, pretending as if his tie needed to be fixed. When her face was clear from any angle, she glared up at him. “You switched my dress.”
He put his hands on either side of her waist. The photos later would look rather intimate. “Green suits you better.”
“It was my choice.” She said, straightening his tie just this side of too tight.
Draco cleared his throat, giving a smile to the people behind them. “Your judgement was clouded. I made an executive decision. Your outfits are a reflection of me. This is a partnership, love.”
She stepped back from him, Harry’s words repeating back to her now. But they both had a job to do. It wouldn’t bode well for her career to make a scene. She lifted her chin as she faced the cameras again, an overly dramatic display of being flustered by her co-star.
They both separated, knowing it was time to answer a few questions before they met inside for the movie. She overheard his laugh, his flirtatious comebacks. She swallowed her irritation. This was her big night. No man could ruin this for her.
The interviews were easy enough. She had one final one before she could go inside for the night. Of course, her smile would still need to be plastered on. Watchful eyes, no matter the scene.
“Special night for you!” The interviewer said, her joyful mood almost uplifting Hermione’s.
“Yes, I’m very fortunate for the opportunity I was given in order to make this movie a reality.”
The interviewer laughed as if Hermione had told a joke. “I was talking to Theodore Nott earlier and he sang your praise.”
“Theo is here?” Hermione questioned, blinking back into the conversation.
“Yes,” She nodded enthusiastically. “I didn’t know you two were so close!” Playing the part, Hermione shook her head. But the interviewer was persistent. “Circling back to singing, though. What can you tell your fans about an upcoming album? Not that we aren’t ecstatic about your new film, of course.”
A bit dumbly, Hermione looked at the interviewer. “A new album?” This time the interviewer gave her a look, making Hermione cringe. Now was not the time to disassociate and she knew this. Playing it off, Hermione laughed. “Well, I don’t want to give any false hope! Music is still my heart and soul. I just want to focus on this aspect of my life with film before I connect back with my… roots.”
“But you will be making music again, won’t you?” Hermione’s eyes locked onto the interviewers with slight annoyance. “I only ask because your new era has been the Draco Malfoy! And we have all been eager to know how he fits into your world, musically.”
It took everything in Hermione to make sure her smile didn’t drop. Because of course music was only mentioned at the name of Draco. “Right now we’re just enjoying each other’s company. He’s a handsome man, right?” She laughed when the fans behind them screamed their agreement.
They didn’t care that Hermione Granger, singer/songwriter had quit producing music. No, they only cared that Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy’s girlfriend, hadn't put out a song about him. The realisation was humbling.
There's something in the air
I hope it doesn't change, that it's for real
The beginning of something big happening…
The rain poured down outside of the bookshop. Hermione frowned, knowing if she stepped foot outside, the books would be ruined. She was supposed to meet with Draco soon, discussing the next movie he wanted them to do together. Another action movie, of course.
Hermione didn’t care for the plot, she never had. She missed singing, missed the way the audience would scream in excitement as the start of their favourite song began to play. Their energy was contagious. Hermione belonged on the stage, not the screen. She didn’t belong doing action movies, constant repetition. Same character, just different name. The screen was for Draco Malfoy.
Perhaps if things had been different, starring in the romance films she had wanted, she wouldn’t have lost her intrigue for films. Her fans adored her in every role, praising her range with each new movie released. But every so often, Hermione would stumble upon the questions that plagued her mind since that fight with Harry. Does she even sing anymore?
She tried to reach out to Harry a week after their fight, when everything settled down. There had been no response. He remained true to his word. But Hermione was persistent, undeterred from making up with her best friend. This was just another dumb fight they were working through. But then she found out that her access on his set was revoked. Her blue texts were now green. The invitation to her premiere was sent back, unopened. Harry had erased her from his present, making it known she was no longer welcome.
Hermione didn’t cry.
She didn’t allow herself such luxury. Instead, she collected the grief she felt for her friend, and shoved it in a dark corner of her mind. There was no time to dwell on such a fickle thing as friendship. There were more important matters to focus on. At least, that was what Draco had told her when she found herself drunk in their bathtub, the Pansy Parkinson dress now ruined with the red wine she spilt at some point in the night.
But that didn’t mean Hermione wasn’t confronted with sadness anytime an interviewer would question why she hadn’t been seen with Harry Potter. That didn’t mean the articles being published weren’t eerily accurate in their theories. The comments remained the same, and only she was to blame.
“Hermione Granger?” A thoughtful voice interrupted, a hint of a smile as her name left his lips.
She knew that voice. The man who she wanted to begin acting for. The person she had thought she was meant for. Of course, that wasn’t the case. There had been months between when she had first met Draco to the time that they became serious. Theo always had a special place in her heart. There was a sense of calmness about his demeanor that never failed to put Hermione at ease. But as it turned out, they were never meant to be. Just a passing thought, nothing concrete to ever come of it.
She gave herself two seconds to widen her eyes in shock before turning around to see the man she had been avoiding for months. Well, perhaps ‘avoid’ was too harsh of a word. But Hermione knew that he resembled Harry in a sense. Before Malfoy, there was him. And she was good. Some comments might have been accurate at saying she was her true self before her current relationship. But they didn’t know anything, did they? Just because she had taken a pause on music didn’t mean that it would be indefinite. Her and Draco preferred a more quiet life, the only spotlight being the promos for the movies they did together.
It was an adjustment for Hermione. She could see that now. And if she were being honest, there were times that she felt like she was being hidden away. She remembers the fun she used to have, the nights that only ended once the sun had reappeared. She thinks she used to have quite a sense of humour.
“Theodore Nott.” She said at last, eyes showing her confusion.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, now damp due to the downpour outside. There was a certain boyish charm to his smile, not quite mischievous enough like other men their age. “You aren’t the only one searching for shelter with the weather outside.”
“Oh,” Hermione laughed, raising the bag of books she had just purchased. “Just a fate of chance, I suppose.”
“In that case,” Theo said, the boyish grin remaining on his face. “Allow me to give you the tour.” He grabbed her books without a second thought, already advancing towards the back of the shop. When they got to the back, where dust was beginning to collect, he turned back to face her. A curling staircase stood proudly in front of them. “After you.”
She made a noise of protest, the younger school girl coming out. “The owners will have our heads.”
“I have a feeling they won’t mind.”
Pursing her lips, she began the incline of the stairs. Heart beating fast, eyes wide as she reached the door. She turned back to Theo, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement. Slowly, she opened the door.
It was dark.
She began to step back, rethinking whatever idiotic plan Theo had in mind. But her back bumped into his front. “Don’t tell me you lost your sense of adventure, Granger.” He teased. Truth underlined in a joke. Thunder sounded outside, and it felt like a challenge. Theo reached over, turning the switch on.
They both stood there as Hermione took in the small flat. The couches were worn, discoloured from age. Dishes were in a rack, laid out to dry. The rain painted the window above the sink, something out of a book she had envisioned. There were two doors that were closed on the other end of the flat. It was lived in.
It reminded her of her childhood home. Smaller, of course. But she could feel the love that was etched into the walls. She smiled to herself as she stepped further into the flat, running her hand over the couches as she glanced at everything around her.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told you about my mother.” Theo said, clearing his throat.
“Your mother?”
He hummed in response, turning away to make them a cuppa tea. “She left my father when I was quite young. The fortune, the stability, gone. The only thing she could afford was a rundown bookstore in a shady area.” He allowed a moment for silence as Hermione realised just whose flat they were currently in.
“You own this bookshop?” She asked, shoulders relaxing once more as she realised they weren’t breaking and entering the kind bookstore’s home.
He tilted his head from side to side. “My mother does, yes. When I became famous and earned enough, I moved her into a proper home. It’s the least she deserved for all the sacrifices she made to get us away from my father.”
Hermione gave him a soft smile as he handed her a cuppa. “So who lives here now?”
“We both do, I suppose.” He said, taking a sip of his tea. “She handles the books and if it’s too late at night, she just comes upstairs. This place reminds me of my childhood, a time before the fame. I come back every chance I get to remind myself of that.”
“I never knew.”
His lips turned up. “And why would you?”
They talked for hours, the rain becoming something close to background music. They caught up on what has been happening the past few years, making note to avoid the topics of Harry and Draco. And for the first time in a long time, Hermione felt like she was connected to the woman she used to be.
But before Hermione knew it, her phone was buzzing, interrupting the peaceful moment shared between her and Theo. Dread filled her body as she saw Draco’s name appear on her phone.
She was late.
And by the Merthyr alleys in the streets have ceased
And still, the shadows haunt the avenue
The silence is deafenin'
Hermione rested her feet in Draco’s lap, smiling to herself when he began to mindlessly massage them. They were watching an old film, something she felt reflected their relationship. Words weren’t spoken. The only thing to prove their love to the audience was their actions.
You could always tell if someone was in love by the way they looked at their respective partner. Was there an adoring look? Was it unfamiliar? Actors who fell in love with their leading co star never surprised Hermione. It had been her favourite pastime, to see what actors had chemistry when reading their lines. Scandals rarely surprised her anymore.
She briefly wondered what people thought when Draco looked at her. She had seen the edits of him with Astoria, the matching looks they’d give each other when doing interviews together. She remembered seeing their eyes light up when the other was even mentioned. Hermione knew it wasn’t healthy to obsess over a past relationship he had. They were famous, it came with the relationship to accept old flings would be all over the internet. But they weren’t just some fling to write off, now were they?
An insecurity. Pesky things to try and get rid of. Always nagging at the back of your mind, planting doubt when there shouldn’t be any. It wasn’t as if Draco was constantly in his head about her previous relationship with Ronald. Professional cheater. Apologies, professional athlete. Old habits die hard, Hermione supposed.
She knew Draco loved her. They had been together for years. And while time never measured any amount of love, she knew what they had was real. They were both quite famous, they could have anyone they wanted. But they chose each other, day after day. They chose to stay committed. It was a choice to be in love. She was content to choose Draco every time she woke up. She was.
Draco squeezed her foot once to get her attention. She turned her head to look at him, giving him a bashful smile. He raised an eyebrow at her, amusement dancing in his eyes as he scanned her face. “What’s going on in that pretty little head over yours?”
“Nothing,” She said sweetly. He hummed, lips twitching up. Almost as if he could read her mind. She wouldn’t doubt it. Draco had this uncanny ability to pinpoint Hermione’s thoughts, able to bring them to the surface without having to say a word.
His hand began to massage up her leg. She narrowed her eyes at him, already knowing what his next attempt would be. Draco acted oblivious to such notions, hand continuing upward. An involuntary smile crept up her face as his hand moved north. A tactic he used when he wanted information out of her.
Hermione was quite the ticklish woman, and it didn’t take long before she began to burst into uncontrolled laughter. Draco advanced onto her as she tried to kick him away, laughing as his fingers found the areas to ignite that response from her. He had a smile to match her own as he looked down on her. Her laughter seemed to be contagious as he began to join in with her.
“Stop, I beg!” Hermione managed to breath out, immediately going back into a rage of laughter as his fingers continued their assault.
“Tell me what you were thinking of, love.” He replied easily, mirth clear in his tone.
When she finally had enough, she put a hand on his wrist. “Okay! Okay! I’ll tell you.”
Draco pursed his lips, pretending to consider her plea. When their eyes met, all they could do was join in with laughter. The blonde man posed with a stoic face. “I’m listening.”
Hermione’s eyes searched his. Her smile began to fade into something more genuine at the sight of him. And oh, it was moments like this that she was reminded of why she fell in love with him. Despite the fame and the fortune, he was still just a man. He had simple characteristics. He just wanted to hear her laugh when he thought she was too into her own head. He knew her, and that was enough.
She wasn’t perfect. There were times she doubted their relationship. It was hard not to let the press invade her mind, to make her think something was amiss. She had lost a few prominent friendships over the course of this relationship. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss them. But it was a sacrifice she had to give up in order for this relationship to blossom.
If she allowed negative people around her, it would soon reflect on her relationship as well. Some people were just miserable. What was the old saying? Oh right, misery loves company. And while she could love the people from her past, she knew she had to let them go. It had become unhealthy to keep them in her life. She chose her relationship over friendship, and she wouldn’t apologise for that.
“Hermione.” Draco warned, hand tightening around her waist.
She squeezed her hand, the one still on his wrist. “If you must know,” She started, unable to keep the smile off her face. “I was reminiscing on our relationship.”
“Oh?”
Humming, Hermione began to lazily draw innate objects on his wrist with her finger. Absentmindedly, his thumb began to move up and down her waist. She bit her lip as she realised the compromising state they were in. Hermione moved her leg so it was now wrapped around his back. She watched in satisfaction as he ground his jaw. Of course, she still looked up at him with innocent eyes.
“I know what you’re doing.” He said, lips almost grazing hers. She inhaled, waiting for him to close the gap between them. “It isn’t going to work.”
Her hand found its way into his hair. “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you mean.” His breath trailed across her jaw, making her close her eyes in bliss. She arched her back when she began to trail kisses down her neck, sucking on the spot just below her ear. “Draco, please.”
“Tell me what you were thinking about, Hermione.” He said, biting down on that same spot he had just been teasing. She couldn’t help but moan at the contact. His hand pinned her down to the couch, her legs entrapping him on top of her. When he pulled away, they were both breathing heavily. “Tell me, or I will stop.”
She was far too worked up to care about the game anymore. The only thing she wanted was him. “I was thinking about how I fell in love with you, Draco.” Her voice was breathy. “About how choosing you was the right decision.”
He stared down at her with an unreadable expression. His pale face was flushed from her words. She knew she looked to be in a similar state. His eyes flickered over her face, examining her. Likely to see if she was just saying that to get what she wanted right now. All she could do in return is look up at him.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
And then his lips were crashing into hers.
Ever since I fell out of love with you, I fell back in love with the streets
And God, does it feel sweet, like a summer breeze
Ever since I fell out of love with you, I break dance to the back beat
And God, does it sound sweet, like it's playin' just for me
The lights inside were turned off. Hermione sat in what she felt reflected her present emotions. She looked at the roses in their vase, petals wilting as they fell onto the counter. A representation of what their love had become.
She remembers the first time he had bought her those flowers all those years ago. Gone was the confident man, replaced with someone unsure if he was reading into her flirting or not. That night they were just two ordinary people trying to navigate the complications of an innocent crush. He was just a guy. And she had been just a woman.
As she looked at the dark kitchen, she couldn’t remember a time when he had cooked a meal for her. It was a distant memory now. If that night wasn’t so ingrained into her mind, she might think she had made it up. She knew he wasn’t the man she fell in love with anymore. The lack of effort was present, taking up far too much space in their flat.
Draco was out late again. Had he even tried to give her an explanation for it this time? She couldn't recall. Hermione knew he wouldn’t cheat on her, infidelity below him. But that didn’t mean that her mind didn’t spiral with where he was or who he was with.
In a low moment in her life, she had searched him up. Her heart had pounded as several videos appeared in the last thirty minutes. It looked as if he was at some event, perhaps a premiere of some sort? It wasn’t a shock she wasn’t on his arm anymore. If it wasn’t for their movies, she rarely accompanied him.
Hermione’s eyes watered at the brim at the realisation. He could have invited her to be at his side. Four years ago it wouldn’t have even been a second thought. They used to be inseparable. At one point in time, Draco rather fancied the company of Hermione. But something within him changed, pushing her out of the spotlight. Apparently there was only room for him.
She clicked on a random video that had been posted within the past five minutes. There was a part of her that had wished she would have just clicked her phone shut and went to bed. It would be easier to ignore issues within their relationship if she didn’t look for it. But she knew this was a long time coming. She had been ignoring her own insecurities for years claiming she was just in her head about it.
The video played, with Astoria Greengrass being the star of it. Draco was beside her, hand on her lower back, eyes glistening as she spoke. She couldn’t remember the last time he had looked at her with that expression. Had he even smiled at her in that way? Had his eyes ever shown when she spoke? Her stomach twisted as her thoughts began to form.
Part of Hermione knew this day would come. She knew he had tried to turn her into Astoria. She wasn’t daft. She knew the pretty dresses and the colours complimented the skin tone of Astoria rather than Hermione. The hair styles he would suggest never suited her hair type. But what did he know of the struggles with curly hair? The woman he was in love with had straight hair. Hermione was just a placeholder until Astoria came back. She was a fool to think any of this was genuine.
Hermione was never meant to become an actress. Of course she had wanted to star in one or two movies. But she never wanted to give up her music. That was her entire career. It was now chalked up to someone she used to be, a tale spoken like a secret. Like they’d get in trouble if they were overheard talking about the woman Hermione once was.
She would never measure up to the woman Astoria is, and she never wanted to. She respected Astoria for the career she built for herself. There was no animosity on her end towards the woman. But to watch a video surface of the pair of them reconnecting while she was sitting at their joint home made Hermione sick with indecision.
The clock ticked at two by the time Draco came home. He didn’t notice her at first. A small smile on his face as he undid his tie, unaware of the eyes that were on him. But the smile slowly faded as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, noticing Hermione still sitting in the kitchen.
“Hermione?”
She didn’t answer him, replaying the video of him and Astoria on a loop. It wasn’t healthy to analyze the video. She knew this. But Hermione was clearly not in the right state of mind. What, with finding out her boyfriend had a night out with his perfect ex girlfriend while his current one waited up for him at home.
She used to be someone before him.
“What are you still doing up? It’s late.” He said, coming closer. She heard him take a deep breath in as he realised what she was watching. Hermione looked up at him, eyes lacking any real emotion. She had cried for hours, mascara smeared down her face. All that was left in her was resignation for what they had become. “Hermione, that’s not…”
“Don’t.” She said, clicking her phone shut.
“You have to understand…”
Hermione scoffed, pushing past him to turn the light on. “Please do not insult my intelligence by saying that interview was for publicity. Fancy blaming your publicist for this one?” When he didn’t respond, she laughed. “I am your girlfriend, Draco. Or did you forget that as you played house with her all night?”
“It was just one interview.” He said, and it almost sounded like he believed that.
She glared up at him, a mixed storm in her eyes. “Why are you with me?”
“What?” He asked, running a nervous hand through his hair. “Hermione, it’s late. Let's go to bed and we can discuss this in the morning.” She shook her head, taking a step away from him when he reached for her. His hand remained between them for a tense second before he let it drop back to his side. “I love you. You know this.”
Hermione’s eyes filled with tears once again. “But are you in love with me?”
A heavy silence followed after her question.
“What’s the difference?”
“Everything.”
You made me trade my violets for roses
You tried to trade in my new truck for horses
Don't forget all of these things that you love are the same things I hate
A simple life, I chose this
Going back to a life without being known as Draco Malfoy’s girlfriend was an adjustment.
After it was leaked to the press that Hermione and Draco had ended their relationship, the internet swarmed both of their platforms. Some people accused him of cheating, edits of his interviews with Astoria being compared to his premieres with Hermione. Other people were in her comment section, the theories so absurd she wondered if any of these people were employed. She will admit she did spend the early days of their break up coasting through what the internet had to say, mourning at what they once had.
She briefly considered texting him to meet with her, to try their relationship again. But she knew crawling back to him was quite pathetic. Nothing would change between them. It had been years of ignoring their issues until one of them was courageous enough to confront it.
Hermione deserved to be with someone who was in love with her. She didn’t deserve for someone to settle. She didn’t deserve for someone to try and change her completely. The woman she was was not someone to be embarrassed about. It took a long time for her to accept this fact. She didn’t need to be perfect in order to be loved.
Draco had offered for her to keep their flat. Hermione declined, knowing that if she stayed there she would be haunted by the memory of them. Their love etched into the walls, proof of its existence. But knowing it hadn’t been enough to save them would destroy her. Draco had remained in their flat for a month or two after she moved out. But it had gone on the market soon enough. It looks like she hadn’t been the only one that had been haunted by the life they used to have between the walls.
She spent most of her time reconnecting with the things she once loved. Journals had been ordered, pages torn out as she attempted to compose something to express how she felt. Some were full of anger, the rage unable to escape her as she tried to heal. Other songs were sad, drawn out. But none were happy. She was unable to grasp that emotion, and her words clearly reflected that.
Getting back in contact with her former producer hadn’t been as difficult as she had expected. Neville had been rather ecstatic of Hermione’s desire to get back on the stage. He encouraged her to send over samples of the vibe for her next vibe to try and discover her voice again. They spent weeks going back and forth with the tempo, the lyrics, the expression. He pushed her to be better than she was before, and she was grateful for the challenge.
Her team filmed her in the studio, putting out brief clips of the songs she would record to get the focus away from her break up and more directed on her being back in the studio. Of course, there was still talk about Draco. Her favourite comment involved someone saying that this is not what they meant when they said they wanted a Draco Malfoy album. Her team advised her repeatedly not to like it. But she was her own person, and she was tired of listening to what other people thought were best for her. Even if she was paying them to do exactly that.
Despite becoming active on social media again, Hermione refused to reach out to people she once called her friends. Nobody had reached out to her to confirm the rumours, and she saw no reason to put herself in an unwanted situation. She was just fine by herself. It was a lonely road, but at least she knew where she stood with everyone around her.
She adopted a cat from the local shelter. It was an orange feline, fur matted and patchy in some areas. But to Hermione, he was perfect. She named his Crookshanks and he became the only friend she needed. If she uploaded something, it was mainly about her cat. The studio clips were still going around, but it was clear her new love was her companion.
Hermione was happy.
For the first time in years, she took a step forward. There were some days when she wouldn’t unlock her phone. Some days she would draw the curtains and hide underneath the blankets. Other days she would write something worth being put on the new album. Other times her and Crookshanks would sit in her flat and play with cat toys or build new cat furniture.
Her new life was an adjustment. Who knew you could be famous and still become isolated from everyone around you? She supposed it wasn’t that much of a shock. She never did have many friends, even before Draco. But to have her entire life centre around a man, only to detach herself was a harsh reality. It made her stronger, of course. No matter how depressing her life currently was, she knew she needed to face this next part of her life alone. It was the only way she would learn to love herself.
It was only after she had accepted this did someone reach out.
Hermione’s phone buzzed, alerting her of an incoming call. She frowned as she picked up the phone to see what Neville wanted. But it hadn’t been him who was ringing her. It was a man she hadn’t spoken to in years. Someone she had lost hope in ever speaking to again.
Harry Potter.
Her heart raced as she accepted the call, slowly putting the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
“You broke up with Draco.”
“...I did.”
Harry clicked his tongue, a sentence all on its own.
Neither one of them spoke after that, both letting the line go silent. Hermione wished she could say it was comfortable, that it wasn’t forced. But the pair hadn’t spoken in years, disrespect glazing the end of their friendship. There was so much to say, but Hermione was unsure of how to begin. So instead, she said nothing.
Eventually, Harry sighed. “Well, I’m outside your building. So either you get your arse up and tell your doorman I’m a friend, or you can continue to awkwardly breath on the other end of the line.”
Hermione didn’t need to be told twice.
When Hermione reached him outside, she immediately ran into his arms. He caught her easily enough, holding her tight. So much to be said with just one hug, something that words wouldn’t have been able to capture. It had been years, but Hermione finally found her brother once more.
They went inside and spoke for hours. Tears were shed from them both, apologies being repeated as they recounted what had happened between them. Cheap liquor making their words slur. But it kept them honest. It was exactly what they needed.
“Can I ask you something?” Harry asked, staring intently at his feet. They had found themselves on the floor, their backs to the couch. He was squinting, taking on and off his glasses as the room around him continued to spin.
“Okay,” Hermione said, dipping her chin low.
“Why did you choose him over Theo?”
She wrinkled her eyebrows together. “I don’t follow.”
Harry nodded his head a few times before realising he needed to actually speak the words aloud. “Theo. Something was happening there. And then you just…” He waved his hand in front of him to motion what he really meant. “Chose Draco Malfoy.”
Hermione frowned at his question, looking over at him with a mixed expression. The answer was so painfully simple that it was almost pathetic. Because it had always been Theo. But there was just one thing that separated the two of them. Draco actually made a move with her. Theo never did. Not that it mattered now, she supposed. What she had almost had with Theo was just a fantasy. Even if at times she had felt tempted by the thought of another life with Theo, she was never going to take action on it. They were always going to be just an ‘almost’. She had made peace with that when she had first agreed to become exclusive with Draco.
She wished she could lie to herself and have a better explanation for why she chose one man over another. But she couldn't help but wonder if Theo was even someone of interest to begin with? Had they had more time, would something have blossomed? Or were they just two people who enjoyed toying the line of flirting because they were young and they could? Hermione had been plagued by the inevitable ‘what if’ if she hadn’t agreed to dinner with Draco that night. If she hadn’t stopped at that cafe. If she hadn’t agreed to debut an acting career at Draco’s side. Who would she have become if she hadn’t lost herself in a man?
But she knew she couldn’t change the past. And she wasn’t sure if she would turn around and change the choice she made. Because even though she allowed herself to be turned into someone she wasn’t, they still shared good memories. They were happy. For a time, they were happy. They were.
Hermione sighed, bringing her knees to her chest. “He never asked me.”
“What?”
“Theo.” She sighed, lips turned down. “He never made a move. Draco did.”
Harry sighed. It was an understandable reaction. She couldn’t elaborate further, knowing her words would just be running laps around each other. And without even having to say it, she knew Harry understood that. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way. Neither one looked at each other, staring at the windows in front of them.
“You blocked me.” She said after a while.
Harry looked over at her, a wide smile on his face. “You deserved it.” She opened her mouth in shock, startling herself when she began to laugh. It didn’t take long for him to join in, comfortability recognizing them. “But I am sorry. I should have never abandoned you.”
“No, it’s fine-”
“It’s not. You’re the closest thing I have to a sister and I just… walked away.” Harry began to wipe away the tears from his eyes, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry.”
Hermione reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze as her eyes began to water too. “I’m sorry too. The things I said to you… I was deflecting from the truth. I was upset about that bloody dress and I hated that you could see the truth. I never wanted to admit there was an issue with Draco and I took it out on you instead.”
Clearing his throat, he arched an eyebrow. “Enough of that. How soon can I invite Theo to your flat?”
Shocked, Hermione lightly pushed his shoulder. “Harry! Come off it, now.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll give it months, and then I’m ambushing the two of you.”
“Only if I can invite Pansy over.”
They both looked at each other with serious faces before bursting into laughter. They continued to drink from the bottle, the night dwindling down. It was a much needed night, and Hermione would forever be grateful to have her best friend back.
On the final day at the studio, Hermione’s publicist walked up to her with an unsure expression. If she weren’t mistaken, she would describe it as something close to dread. The woman wrung her hands together the closer she got to Hermione. The anxiety was apparent. Hermione gave the woman a concerned look, about to ask if she was quite alright when the woman began to speak in a rushed tone.
“Hogwarts wants you to perform.” Her eyes were wide in terror. Hermione matched her expression, but for a different reason. “I know you’ll decline, but I wouldn’t be a good publicist if I didn’t at least tell you-”
But this was Hermione’s chance to get back into her music. So much rode on someone’s debut. And she had been away from the stage for far too long. A concert wouldn't be appropriate. But she could perform for an award ceremony. It was the equivalent to dipping her toes back into the pool. Something that filled her with anxiety, but knowing it was something she needed to do.
“I’ll do it.”
You made me trade my violets for roses
You tried to take all the pink off my toes
And God knows the only mistake that a man can make
Is trying to make a woman change and trade her violets for roses
Hermione looked up towards the crowd as she continued to play the keys to the piano as it came to a close. She knew there were tears slowly painting her face, mascara now smeared. But her performance was raw. It was real. There was passion and regret. Mourning. She was telling a story to the audience to explain her disappearance, and she could only hope they understood.
She hadn’t realised that the past five years had changed her, not all for the better. There was once a woman who stayed out until the sun was coming up and enjoyed the greasy food from a questionable truck with her best friend. She was a woman who daydreamed about romance and laughed freely.
Harry had been right years before. She did become a shell of the woman she once was. And she knew that getting that woman back was impossible. She could only mourn the past life she once lived. And instead, had to accept that the woman she would become would have to be good enough.
There's something in the air
The girls are running 'round in summer dresses
With their masks off, and it makes me so happy.