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Second Chances	By : ShigeSato Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Het - Male/Female Views: 2964 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, settings or named spells/objects in the Harry Potter franchise. They are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Draco was sitting over by the bar, watching the pair of them dancing next to Ginny and Blaise. He was very happy for his friends, but it came with a bitter sense of reality; that from here on out, it was very unlikely that Hermione would ever be his. He'd come to accept that over the past few weeks, of course, but it was difficult when the object of his desires for the last seven years had so thoroughly rejected him, in favour of the friend he never really even considered a threat.
He finished his ninth goblet of the evening and sullenly watched it refill in his hand. It was very difficult to accept that, as a Malfoy, he'd lost to a Nott. That wasn't the way it was supposed to go. As hard as it would be getting over her, it was even harder recognizing that everything as he saw it had changed. Blaise was married to a Weasley now. Theo and Granger would probably not be far behind them, judging by the starry-eyed gazes between them and the speed with which he'd asked her to become lady of his manor. Even Greg and Millie had finally noticed each other. He shook his head and gulped down half of the new drink in one go. Where was his place, in this new world the others had created?
"Evening," came a voice to his left, and he turned with equal amounts of surprise and disdain to see Potter occupying the seat beside him. He looked about as crap as Draco felt. He nodded cordially, which realistically was more than Potter deserved, and went back to his drink, hoping that the Golden Boy would handle his own issues in peace for once. It didn't seem like that would be the case, though, as he opened his mouth once again, and Draco set his jaw and forced himself to be polite. "What are you drinking?"
"Firewhiskey," he replied shortly, hoping that would somehow, miraculously, be all Potter wanted to say.
"Oh. I've always been more of a Butterbeer man myself," Potter commented, and Draco held in check his instinct to scoff, as that would only give the other man more of a reason to carry on talking. Potter sighed and leaned in closer. "Look, Malfoy, I know you're in pretty bad shape over Hermione. I get it. I mean, my ex-girlfriend got married out there tonight." As usual with Gryffindors, it was straight in and on-the-nose, but thoroughly unwanted, compassion. "If you want to talk, then…"
"Then it certainly won't be with you," Draco cut him off curtly.
"Who, then? Blaise? Theo? Goyle? Doesn't seem to me like you've got many options," Potter replied, and for once Draco had to concede that the Boy Wonder had a point. "Just wanted to say that I'm here, you know. Hermione's friends with you now, and she thinks you're actually not a twat, so if I can help, I want to."
"Fuck off, Potter," Draco retorted, but he didn't. He just sat there with the same expression on his face. Draco sighed. "What do you want from me? Tell me, and then go away."
Potter's expression changed then, his eyes narrowing. "You know what, fuck this, I'm going to come right out and say it," he said, straightening up and looking Draco dead in the eye. "You're an absolute dickhead. You've treated all of us like shit for years, and even in this new inter-House thing they've managed to cultivate, you're prickly and unfriendly and don't care to join in."
"I'll thank you to shut the fuck up when you don't have a clue what you're talking about," Draco found himself saying, his hand curling into a fist around his goblet. Stupid fucking Potter.
"I know you're in deep for Hermione and that you hate that she's with Nott right now. That's not changing, so you need to find a way to get over her, especially if you're going to remain a part of this friendship group that's forming because the Slytherins aren't going to pander to you forever, Malfoy. You'll be out on your own if you don't sort your shit out."
"Oh? And what makes Saint Potter think he knows a single fucking thing about me?" Draco asked in a mocking tone, his hand shaking, fully aware that every word that had come out of his rival's mouth was unassailably true.
Potter smiled at him in a sad sort of way and ran a hand through the mop he called hair. "You relied on me in the Forest during detention in First Year, so I know you don't think I'm totally incapable. I know you love to fly and you live for Quidditch just like I do. You reached for my hand when in the Room of Requirement during the battle, so I know you understand compassion. You didn't give us up to Bellatrix and you let us escape with your wand, so I know you never really supported Voldemort. And you lowered your wand, Malfoy. Say what you want, but when push came to shove, you couldn't kill Dumbledore. Despite everything you project to the rest of the world, I've been your rival for eight years, I've seen you at your best and your worst, and I know more about you than I think you care to admit."
Draco didn't reply, angry that Potter had him pegged even a little. He hadn't thought about all the times they'd been thrown together over the years, had forgotten Potter had been there when he'd faced Dumbledore on the rooftop. He'd never forgotten that he owed Potter his life, but he didn't like to be reminded of that fact. He scowled into his drink. Where was Golden Boy even going with this tirade?
Potter sighed and Draco felt like something big was coming. "Look, I'm going out on a limb here, Malfoy. I don't like you, and you don't like me. But all our friends are pairing up and we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other, so –" he paused here and took a deep breath, seeming to summon courage from somewhere, "do you want to get over Hermione with me?"
At first, Draco didn't understand the question. "You fucking what, Potter? You fancy Granger? Come off it, I know that isn't true."
"No, you misunderstand," he said, shaking his head, and a blush appeared across his cheeks. "For as long as you've been into Hermione, I've – well – I've sort of been into you."
What the fuck?
He barreled on before Draco could collect his thoughts. "I put it to the back of my head for so many years, because, well – first off, I didn't want everyone to know I was bi – and secondly because you're you and I'm me. It's laughable. It's beyond a fucking joke. But tonight my ex-girlfriend, a Weasley, married Blaise Zabini, and in this strange new place we've found ourselves I can't help but wonder if there's a chance. I'm putting it out there and taking a risk. Entirely physical, you understand, because I don't like you as a person and I know you sure as hell don't like me. So before you scoff and dismiss me, consider that to get over Hermione, perhaps you need something – someone – completely different. I want to be your coping mechanism, because I might be what you need. There's something in it for me, too, of course – I don't know why you keep me up at night, I don't know why I want you so badly, and if I scratch that itch then maybe it'll go away."
Potter finally stopped talking, and Draco took a second to try and figure out what the fuck he'd just heard coming out of Scarhead's mouth. Potter fancied him? And not only did Potter fancy him, but Potter had the fucking nerve to come up and proposition him with some sort of enemies-with-benefits arrangement? Merlin, the very thought made him shudder. He tried very hard to cull his temper, because shouting at Potter right now wouldn't be a good look, and met the other man's eyes.
"Thanks for your consideration, Potter," he spat sarcastically, "but the only part you got right there was that I sure as hell don't like you. I'm going to inform you that I'm not gay, and even if I were, you are the literal last person on earth I'd ever want to fuck. So please, kindly fuck off and don't ever speak to me again."
Despite his chilling rejection, Potter didn't seem concerned in the least. He simply shrugged and tilted his head. "Your loss, Malfoy. It seemed crazy to me too, honestly, but I'm glad I at least took the chance and asked. Have a….night." At a loss for more words, finally, Potter vacated his seat and went to rejoin the rest of the group on the dance floor.
Draco continued to sit at the bar, infuriated, for some time after. What right did Potter have to come and proposition him like that? How dare he come into his private space, reserved for drinking and wallowing, and bring up some sick arrangement when, by the way, Draco was absolutely not gay, and the world and his wife knew that he hated Potter with a vengeance. It wasn't even about his father or his beliefs or anything else – Potter had embarrassed him in first year when he didn't take his hand, and as petty as it might seem, since then every single thing the Scarhead did had touched the wrong nerve. He couldn't stand him.
While he was convulsing deep in his thoughts about how much he disliked Potter, someone approached and sat down beside him. Seething, believing it was Potter come back again to haunt him, Draco turned to tell them to fuck off and stopped short with his mouth open when he saw it was Hermione.
"Granger," he choked out instead, and looked back into his drink.
"Hi, Draco," she replied, and he still couldn't stand the feelings that came from hearing his first name coming out of her mouth, but he didn't have the heart to tell her not to use it. "I saw Harry speaking to you earlier. Have you two finally buried the hatchet?"
"Fuck that," Draco replied hastily. "I will dislike Potter until the day after I die. Even longer."
"What were you two talking about then?" Hermione questioned, and Draco had to force himself not to gag at the thought. He thought that having another person know, though, might help to affirm his belief that he was not, in fact, going insane, and perhaps Hermione would be able to help keep Potter thirty feet away from him at all times.
"Potter propositioned me," Draco spat, swigging his drink heavily and glaring at it. "He came up here and started babbling on about Dumbledore or Quidditch or whatever the fuck it is that comes out of his mouth, and then out of nowhere he told me he fancied me and asked me if I wanted to fuck him. I told him to fuck off and never come back, and he did."
Hermione's eyebrows rose in surprise. Draco didn't know if she'd been aware of Potter's sexuality or not, but he was sure as hell that any amount of what he'd just said would have been enough to elicit that reaction. "Well – I can't say I saw it coming, but it makes sense. He always was a little obsessed with you in school," she commented, and Draco's stomach turned at the thought. "He was asking me earlier about taking risks and going after what you wanted. I guess this is what he meant."
"You don't have anything more to say than that? I'm in fucking trauma here," Draco pointed out, and Hermione giggled, which caused him to raise an eyebrow.
"Well," she said, "I'm just saying what I see here, so don't shoot the messenger. You've been sullen and sad all evening, for understandable reasons, but it's still a shame to see Draco Malfoy that way." She indicated one of the Indian twins, who was sitting alone across the room, sipping from her goblet. "Padma has been staring at you for the majority of the night, and you haven't even noticed. But Harry comes over and speaks to you for ten minutes and you're more fired up than I've seen you in months. It's just something to think about, that's all."
"Alright. Now you can fuck off too, you're on my list," Draco said, and Hermione laughed and winked at him before leaving. He turned back to his drink, angry and confused. What Hermione had said was true, but that didn't mean he would ever entertain the thought of fucking Potter. It was beyond disgusting. The only reason he was so passionate about it was because of how much he hated him.
Hermione left Draco and returned to the dance floor. She'd known that Harry was bisexual for a while – they'd had a lot of deep heart-to-hearts in the tent while on the run – but he'd never mentioned to her, even then, that he had any kind of romantic feelings for Malfoy. Well, she could understand, she mused. Draco was a very good-looking man, and it was difficult not to notice that. His personality had, for her, been an issue for a very long time, and she supposed that was why Harry had been so reluctant to admit his attraction. Now, though, he was very slowly becoming the sort of person they could actually hang around with, and on top of that, from what she could discern from Draco's coarse words it sounded like Harry hadn't wanted anything more than a physical relationship. Privately, she thought it might be a good thing for both of them, but she was aware that it would take a lot for Draco to come around.
As she rejoined Theo, Blaise, Neville, Seamus and Ginny on the dance floor, Hermione cast her gaze back towards the bar to see Draco had slunk away. She hoped he would be able to figure out what he wanted – even if it wasn't Harry, to have a goal again, something to motivate him, would really help to pull him out of the depressing place he had found himself in. Hermione handed Theo his drink and smiled as he turned to her.
"Everything okay? Saw you talking to Draco over there for quite a while," he questioned, and Hermione shrugged. She didn't feel like the things Draco had told her should be spread around to everyone – maybe she'd tell just Theo later, but she wasn't going to say it in the middle of the ballroom.
"He's a bit drunker than I'd like, I was just making sure he wasn't going to topple over," she lied, and Theo laughed, relief showing on his face.
"I wouldn't worry. Malfoy can hold his liquor better than any of us when he wants to," he reassured her, and placed his hand around her waist, drawing her in for another dance. Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder and allowed herself to sway to the music, letting all thoughts of Draco pour away and enjoying the last moments of what had been an absolutely incredible evening.
Some time later, the music had finally died away, and a few other people had begun to join Luna, conjuring blankets and mattresses and tents and curling up in various spots around the ballroom. Hermione had prepared all the guest rooms, of which there were plenty, but it seemed that many of her friends had imbibed too much alcohol to even consider attempting the stairs, and preferred to drunkenly crawl inside bedding of their own creation and pass out.
Theo was exhausted, so Hermione allowed him to go up to bed as she cleared away the final remnants of the bar. She still felt quite awake, and she didn't fancy having to do it in the morning before they all left for school, so being as careful as she could not to wake anyone, she crept around the dark ballroom tidying and cleaning all their mess up. She had a new appreciation for the work house-elves did as she carefully stepped over the corner of a tent by the bar, trying very hard not to stumble into it.
"'Mione?" came a voice from inside, and she cursed.
"Sorry, Ron, I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered, leaning down to the tent flap. "Just cleaning up the room a little."
"You didn't," came the morose reply. "I can't really sleep anyway."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione offered, thinking longingly of her comfortable bed and warm boyfriend waiting upstairs, but knowing that Ron had had a very rough night all told, and he probably needed a friend to talk to right now. Speaking of, where was Harry? "Is Harry in there too?"
"No," Ron replied as she crawled into the very spacious tent, "I haven't seen him since the wedding ceremony. I still can't believe that actually happened."
"Well," Hermione reasoned, making herself comfortable on some pillows and pulling off her high shoes, "that's Ginny, we all know what she's like. She makes her mind up about something and she'll go for it whether other people are on board or not."
"Did you think it was a good idea? Really, honestly?" Ron asked her, his tired eyes wide and questioning.
Hermione sighed. "At first, no. Not at all – I was completely shocked as I'm sure you can imagine. But after hearing Ginny's side of it, honestly, I could see it. They're happy together, and they've been like this from the beginning – honestly, you haven't seen them at school, it's frankly amazing how much time they manage to spend snogging." Ron grimaced at that thought but let her keep talking. "Everything about them is fiery and full of excitement and passion and 'what's next', you know," she continued, "and I think this was actually a pretty natural next step for them, albeit in any normal relationship it'd be far too quick. It'll make them burn hotter for a while, and even if they don't last then they'll be happy they did it regardless."
"Still seems like a pretty stupid thing to do," Ron grumbled, but Hermione could tell he saw the strength of her argument. "I'm glad I don't have to be the one to tell Mum. She's going to go ballistic."
"Yeah, I don't envy Ginny that part," Hermione grinned, and Ron smiled back at her, and for a moment it was like everything was back to normal between them, just like it had been before the war. A beat passed, though, and then Ron spoke again.
"Do you envy her getting married, then?" His tone was curious and somewhat loaded.
"Yes and no," Hermione responded, thinking about it. "Getting married is a huge commitment and it's not something I'd step into lightly – I'm a traditionalist that way – so a wedding like the one Ginny just had is definitely not my style. But with that said, I've thought about it a few times now, and sometime in the future when we're older and more established, I know I definitely want to marry Theo."
"You're really that in love with him?" Ron asked, without a hint of bitterness, only wonder.
"Yeah," she replied, blushing and shrugging. "We fit. I can't really explain it any better."
Ron smiled crookedly. "I'm happy for you, 'Mione. Even if it is with a Slytherin. If I'm being completely honest, Theo isn't that bad for a snake, and neither is Blaise. At least neither of you ended up dating Malfoy, that would've been too much."
"You should get to know him, you know," Hermione said with a smile, getting up and beginning to leave. She chose not to share with Ron the information she'd got from Draco earlier on. "He's really not all that bad now. Still a git, but a much more bearable one."
"Yeah, I'll believe that when George's ear grows back," Ron said with a snort, and Hermione giggled. "'Night. See you in the morning."
"Yeah, goodnight," Hermione replied and left the tent, happy that she'd been able to have a real conversation with Ron tonight. She was worried after the dramatics of the ceremony that he wouldn't have calmed down enough, but his attempts to manage his anger seemed to really be working. Maybe they'd soon be able to all be proper friends, laughing and joking in a big group with Harry and Ron included, she thought wistfully as she crossed the room, putting out the final candle by the entrance as she left.
A scuffling noise from the corridor adjoining the entrance hall made her stiffen, and slowly, she crept over to investigate with her wand out. She didn't think anything harmful could make it past Theo's wards, but after the war, her instincts had been to always have her wand out in such a situation. Careful not to make a sound, she padded lightly over the hall and poked her head around the corner to see what was going on – then drew back hastily, with a hand over her mouth, and quickly scurried away.
Harry and Draco were pinned up against the wall, thoroughly engaged in a heavy kiss, and judging by the state of their undress it looked like they were about to get very physical. Hermione didn't need to see any more than that eyeful, and she crept away upstairs and into hers and Theo's bedroom, desperately trying to think of a way to unsee Harry's backside.
"Everything alright?" Theo asked sleepily as she climbed in next to him and wrapped herself around his warm back.
"Yep," she said, deciding now would not be the best moment to divulge anything. "Everything's great."
Theo sighed contentedly, and as she snuggled into the covers, Hermione's last thought was that despite her wishing she'd never witnessed it, she was extremely happy that Draco had taken her advice.
- 12
- 13
- 14
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Second Chances