Hermione/Draco
She wasn't supposed to be there. So why, in Merlin’s fucking name, was Hermione Granger standing in the middle of the party wearing a red dress that would’ve only looked better on Draco’s floor?
Fuck . He chugged his whiskey and went back to the open bar before she could turn and see him. He’d avoid her. That’s all. It was a big party. Nearly 100 of Britain’s hottest young witches and wizards were stuffed into the venue space.
He signaled for another drink. He found Blaise. He listened to Pansy chatter about her coworkers. He could leave, apparate back to their hotel room before midnight. Fuck. They’d come to Edinburgh as a group and he wanted to be with his mates. She’d be distracted by the Chosen One and the Weasel anyway.
It was in the middle of his third whiskey that he heard the melodic tones of her voice creep up behind him.
“You look good, Malfoy.” She nodded, sipping on a cocktail that was charmed to float glitter. The light reflected off the glass and onto the freckles cascading across her chest and shoulders.
He choked out a “Granger,” before Theo was right there to intercede. He whisked her off to the dance floor and Draco felt like a chicken shit watching her go. His friends obviously believed he couldn’t even manage a conversation with her.
When they counted down to midnight the Snakes surrounded him. All cheering and clinking glasses. Sloppy, mostly platonic snogging amongst the group. He did his best not to scan the room for her.
Everyone was beyond pissed. Their Sober Ups stashed safely back at their hotel rooms. He stumbled through the hotel lobby as goodbyes were exchanged. Theo, Blaise and Pansy left him to be sullen. He did that well. Lone brooding wizard at the bar.
He knew she was there before she spoke.
“I didn’t realize you were staying here too.”
“Fancy that.” He tucked his head onto his hand as she slid into the seat next to him.
An hour later he remembered how much he loved the taste of her lips as he pushed her against the wall of the lift. Her breathy moans. The gasps as she whispered his name. The best possible way he could imagine spending the early hours of the new year.
They fucked so hard they tumbled from the bed and continued on the floor. Neither deterred. He wouldn’t stop until she screamed his name. He wanted the sound embedded in his brain. He wanted a memory for his Pensieve.
They awoke to loud knocking. She slipped out the door and Draco prepared to be hexed. Potter just looked defeated.
She was ripped away with the efficiency of the new year turning over. Inevitable and always a little disappointing.
The room was empty, silent, lifeless. He would add colorless but that was every day without her. No longer golden.
One last time. The bond broken. The ties unbound. Forever haunted by a woman who belonged to him but could never be his.
He noticed the shadow on the window sill. Diana, Astoria’s snowy owl had a rolled parchment attached to her foot.
Draco unfurled the scroll as his reality overtook his fantasy for the last time.
Happy New Year, husband