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Longing for Sweets	By : margaritama Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 4999 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Longing for Sweets
- 1
Author/Artist Note(s): Another Darkest Before Dawn Pinch Hit gift. Well, this one is a bit reminiscent of something else I wrote. I was caught up on the request for “moderate angst”. I hope I delivered. Thanks to the beta for a really fast review. The title comes from a quote by Marion Woodman, “The longing for sweet is really a yearning for love or “sweetness.”

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Sixth Year

She watches him, surreptitiously, from the other end of The Great Hall.

He sits there quietly contemplative, surrounded by his friends, unaware of her scrutiny. His appearances at dinner have been scarce this year. Though she knows he's a prat, bigot and bully, she is still a girl and wishes he were different. Someone calls her name; she looks away quickly and pushes the boy with the white blond hair from her thoughts.

Hermione Granger does not see Draco Malfoy's eyes shift towards her table.

After the Final Battle

Bone-tired, covered in dirt, hair matted and heart pounding from the emotional anguish and physical devastation surrounding her, Hermione makes her way through the rubble barely resembling Hogwarts Court Yard. Holding hands with Ron, she stops to survey the damage. Everywhere there are students, Aurors, and just ordinary witches and wizards sitting. The cries and moans of pain mingle with those of relief. It all blends into one cacophony of white noise she knows she will never forget.

Huddled in one corner, she spies the Malfoy family. Grimy and tattered robes hang from Lucius Malfoy’s gaunt frame, Narcissa Malfoy's tears stream down her face as she clutches her son to her, and Draco Malfoy holds onto her so tightly it seems as if he's frozen in time. This tableau is complete with two Aurors standing to one side trying to give the family a modicum of privacy, in what is clearly, a farewell moment.

Hermione's eyes soften slightly taking in this scene. Her mind argues this family deserves no better than Azkaban, but her heart reasons some people learn from their mistakes and there might be hope yet for the young Malfoy heir. She recalls a quote from the blind American author, Helen Keller, whom she admires, "Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it." Hermione is hopeful, in that moment, for Draco. Perhaps he will overcome, perhaps they all will.

Ron tugs at her arm. Shaking her head, she turns to follow him, leaving her thoughts of Draco Malfoy scattered amidst the ruins of stone.

She misses the pair of unblinking grey eyes watching her presence fade.

Three Years After the Final Battle

Elegantly dressed in an expensive midnight blue wrap silk dress, fashionable Parisian heels and a Phillip Treacy hat, Hermione Granger strides confidently towards a private table in Wizarding London's exclusive restaurant, The Gilded Quill.

The murmurs trail after her. She is accustomed to such silliness and ignores the subtle stares, whispers and vacant expressions. Today, she is meeting friends. Today, she is indulging herself. Today, she continues to wear her mask of happiness, while ignoring her instincts. At times, it threatens to overwhelm her and she is sure she'll go mad, but then she reins it under control and marches on with her well-planned life.

Never mind she is sure she does not love Ron, as other than a brother. Never mind she is suffocating from everyone's expectations. Never mind she cannot find it in herself to hurt Ron by telling him the truth.

Breathing suddenly becomes challenging. Hermione stops, closes her eyes and wills her body to cease shaking from the over-stimulation of emotions engulfing her heart and soul. The maitre'd inquires after her, Hermione opens her eyes and smiles, ready to meet her friends.

Arriving at her table, she greets her friends and sits facing out, a perfect view of the dining room. Flashes of blond to her right catch her attention. Turning, she sees the Malfoys having lunch. Facing her is Draco Malfoy and to his left sits a lovely brunette. His wife, she remembers; yes, Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass. They were married the same year as she and Ron.

Hermione studies them as they laugh and enjoy each other’s company. They seem a normal family, to the uninformed. Draco dotes on his wife, gazes at her with a tender expression. The senior Malfoys appear lighthearted, seemingly carefree. However, as Assistant to the Deputy Director in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she knows better. Lucius Malfoy has only just been released from Azakaban. This is their first family outing, in fact. The papers cross her desk that very morning and she signs the approval for him to spend the day free of Aurors.

Unfamiliar warmth floods her body, spreading tingles down her spine. She smiles watching Draco Malfoy. Wistful 'what-if’s' cloud her mind. A delicate hand presses her shoulder, the spell is broken. Her attention turns back to her friends, and wishful notions of Draco Malfoy are tampered down in her subconscious.

Steel-grey eyes study her movements.

Five Years After the Final Battle

Tiny hands grip her tightly. Her heart is full of love. Finally, a moment in her life when she feels content and at peace. Her children are her world whereas her husband grows more distant and aloof. Hermione is sure he is having an affair. She finds herself not caring. Little Rose and baby Hugo bring her the joy she lacks.

Hermione sits on a soft, violet blanket on her favorite spot in her favorite Muggle park, not too far from Wizarding London. A picnic of tea sandwiches, jam, fresh fruit cut up for teeny fingers and glasses brimming with juice is spread out in front of her. Rose releases her mother and toddles to pick up colorful toys, while Hugo, only six months old, sleeps by her side. A more perfect day could not exist.

Giggles followed by a cry distract her, momentarily. A small blond boy, about Rose’s age, runs on chubby legs and tumbles on the grass. It is a scene of such tender innocence, Hermione cannot help but laugh. The boy’s father staggers after him.

Hermione sits in shock as the realization that Draco Malfoy is now holding the little boy. Of course, she recalls reading his son is Rose’s age, the two were born not two months apart. The irony doesn’t escape her. The realization that he is in a Muggle park only briefly flashes through her mind. The tableau the pair make supersedes any other notions.

Enthralled by the lovely picture father and son make, she sighs. If only Ron took such and interest in his own children. While not a bad father, he is not an involved one. Nary a nappie does he change. He seems at a loss around his own children and leaves Hermione with all the work. She does not resent him. She pities him, for he’ll miss all the wonderful moments to bond and the memories, once gone, remain thus.

A low gurgle and hiccup bring her gaze back to her two little ones. She grins at Rose’s attempts to eat a chocolate cookie along with a strawberry. Gently, she pries the cookies from her sticky fingers.

The happy father, holding his son in his arms, observes the pretty brunette and her two children. His storm-cloud colored eyes are unreadable.

Ten Years After the Final Battle

Hermione breathes a sigh of relief as she reads the parchment just delivered to her office.

Her divorce is complete and official. She feels unburdened, carefree and, oddly enough, young. Perhaps all those years of living with the wrong man has addled her mind. She doesn’t care. Grinning, she places the divorce papers in her desk. As the newest, and youngest in history, Director of Magical Law Enforcement, her salary has increased drastically. She is able to afford the lovely town home in the tony section of Wizarding London. With four bedrooms, there is more than enough room for her and the children. A blooming garden and rooftop sitting area give her much needed outdoor space. It screams sophistication and elegance. And she loves it.

Rose and Hugo are with Molly and Arthur for the evening. Hermione’s worries of rejection remain unfounded. The Weasley family continues to treat her as their own daughter. No blame lies at her feet once Ron’s indiscretions come to light. She hopes they can regain the friendship they lost, but for now distance is the best remedy.

She decides to go to the new pub recently opened across from Gringotts. Her friends tell her it’s just her style. Quiet, chic and quaint.

Entering the establishment, she takes in the surroundings. A roaring hearth burns brightly, spreading heat throughout the room. Wooden tables and high back leather booths host patrons of small and large groups, alike. A bar maid invites her in and shows her to a private booth in the back. Sliding in, she sighs contently before ordering a simple meal and pale ale. She sits at an excellent advantage to people watch.

The heavy door swings open and lets in other souls seeking solace in the warmth cheerfulness of the pub. Mesmerized, she is surprised to see Draco Malfoy stride in with a confident yet solemn air. Perusing her memory, she remembers he is also divorced – two years now. Pity, she assumes he is happy Astoria but she is wrong. Clearly, he wears his mask as well as she.

His tall frame walks up to the fire. As if sensing her perusal, he turns and locks gazes with her. At first there is no emotion but then a slow smile appears. Suddenly, he is walking towards her. Suddenly, he is standing before her. Suddenly, he is sitting across from her in the private booth and placing an order.

They sit in silence. Then he begins to speak. Only trepidatious and mundane questions, at first. By the third round of ales, they are laughing and conversing freely. Somewhere in the back of her mind is the ghost of a young girl grinning as only a young girl can.

Laughter dies, eyes drop and she moves to say good-night but he reaches for her hand and stops her. She looks up at him, each of them seem to fall into the other and the evening is far from over.

Twelve Years After the Final Battle

Sunlight filters into the sumptuous bedroom. Hermione groans and wakes with a start. Her body aches and she wishes to only return to the land of dreams, safe and warm under the covers of the luxurious sheets and thick, downy comforter. A shifting to her left causes her to turn.

A very naked Draco Malfoy lies in bed, next to her, silver eyes open and wide awake. A slow grin creeps onto his lips. His hand finds his way to her belly, slightly swollen with their first child. Gentle caresses glide across her skin. Fingers dance along her arm seeking her delicate digits; they tangle together, fused as if one.

No words need be said. Its all there in his look, his touch, his smile; and she returns the passionate depth of an emotion they both know goes deeper than love.

Husband and wife curl into each other. Their happiness evident, their future secure in each others embrace.

fin

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Longing for Sweets