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It's Not Over	By : cpetnm Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 70654 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
In the days between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, Draco thought about Hermione and their tenuous future as a couple. On one of those nights, he’d gone out with Blaise and Theodore Nott to a bar, but he could not imagine going home with any of those girls. Blaise and Theo endlessly razzed Draco about his lack of interest, but none of those birds did it for Draco. Between Blaise and Theo, they thought Draco might be gay. Draco had no idea how his friends might react to his connection to Hermione. Hermione’s ultimatum made Draco realize that he was becoming unwilling to give her up.

Draco had thought about how his parents could view his union with Hermione. One- they could accept it, albeit unhappily, because he was their only child. Two- they might disinherit and shun him. Three- and this was one he worried about, Lucius might try to intimidate or use violence to keep Hermione away from Draco. There was no Malfoy rule that prohibited Malfoys from marrying half-bloods or Muggle-borns, but tradition was almost as binding as a contract in Draco’s family.

Hermione waited near the floo for Draco’s arrival on New Year’s Eve. She wore a purple cowl neck dress with three-quarter length sleeves. It was short and made of the softest pima cotton. Black tights and leather riding boots completed her outfit. The sapphires from Draco twinkled in her ears.

At 8:00 p.m. sharp, Draco came through the floo. He was casual in grey slacks and a black sweater. His long hair was loose and magnificent. Hermione thought it was unfair for a man to have such perfect hair.

“Hi. Are you ready?” Draco was pleased to see Hermione wearing the earrings he’d given her.

“I am.” Hermione took Draco’s offered arm and they stepped into the green flames.

The floo spit them out in a grand parlor. Sumptuous furniture made the large room feel inviting.

“Thank you for coming tonight. I was looking forward to spending the evening with you.”

Over the past few days, Hermione had made a decision. If she and Draco were to end up snogging, she would enjoy it, but she wouldn’t let it go farther than that. She did miss touching him, but she knew if sex were involved, her intense feelings for him would come back full force. She knew she was taking an incredible risk letting him back into her life at all, but at least now she knew their relationship would go no further than these hidden sojourns.

“Are you missing fabulous parties to spend the evening with me?” she wondered.

“I received four party invites, but I’d rather spend it here. What about you?”

“I had a few invitations, but I had thought I’d spend the evening with my parents. But they surprised me and took a short overnight trip this year. They’ll probably be home tomorrow afternoon.”

Draco noticed that Hermione was more open to his touch on this evening than she had been in months. Maybe she had finally warmed up to the idea of them resuming their physical relationship? Draco thought that he could make Hermione happy, even if it was in the privacy of their homes or the Muggle world. Why did everyone have to know about them, anyway?

Draco took Hermione’s hand and led her to the dining room. An intimate table was set with bright white linens and heavy silver platters of fresh fruit, canapés and flutes of champagne. Votive candles gave the dimly lit room a romantic glow. Draco helped Hermione get into a chair before seating himself.

“How did your parents meet?” Draco wondered. He was intrigued by the closeness of the Grangers.

Hermione smiled a twinkly, happy smile, the kind Draco knew signified a story or lesson.

“Mum and Dad went to the same university. Mum had been dating the same bloke for a couple of years when she and my dad met in a class. She says as soon as she met my dad there were sparks. But Mum kept dating the same guy, I think his name was Alexander. My parents were paired as lab partners, um, that’s like being potions partners. Anyway, Dad said they worked really well together and he really liked my mum, but he didn’t want to ruin her relationship with Alexander. At the end of the semester they parted ways. Mum’s told me she kept thinking about my dad, but she was invested with her boyfriend. A year later, they were in a class together and Mum was single. They started dating and both my parents said they knew it was right. They were married six months later.”

“Have they always been so, uh, affectionate?”

Hermione laughed. “Oh, yes. They hold hands, tell each other how much they love the other, cook special meals to celebrate whatever random thing. Every year they take a week long vacation to ‘bond as a couple’. They’re best friends, too.”

Draco could understand why Hermione demanded more from him. She’d grown up with parents devoted to each other. Of course she’d want the same.

“What about your parents?” she asked. Draco didn’t talk about his family often, but he diligently followed their rules.

“They met at Hogwarts. Father’s a year older than Mother. My Grandfather Malfoy was conducting business with the Blacks and he sealed that business deal with their marriage contract. Romantic stuff,” he chuckled mirthlessly.

“Do they get along?”

“Actually, they do. I think they’re companionable. Every so often I would see Mother pat Father’s hand or squeeze his shoulder. Sometimes Father would bring her a trinket from a trip to Diagon Alley. Older pure-bloods don’t openly display their affection.”

Hermione shuddered imagining a future like that. “My family must seem bizarre to you.”

“Knowing you, I expected your parents to be somewhat demonstrative. I rather like your family.” Draco gave her a grin.

“Well, I hope you get paired with someone you like,” Hermione said carefully. Draco liked her and wanted to spend time with her, but eventually reality would set in for both of them. Hermione had to keep this in mind.

“Not everyone has the freedom to do as they please. Some of us have responsibilities to our families and our community,” Draco said stiffly.

Looking down at the table, Hermione thought about the bitter, angry way she could respond to him, but knew nothing she could say would change what Draco would ultimately do.

“Of course. You should do what you think is right.” Appetite gone, Hermione took a thin sip of her crisp champagne.

They sat in silence for a minute.

“I would pick you if I had the choice,” he said quietly.

It was too painful for Hermione to hear. “Please, please stop. I accept the limitations of our—affair—but please don’t act like you don’t have a choice. We all have to make hard choices, Draco.”

“So you’ve already written me off?” Draco could feel the familiar anger rising.

Hermione stood, giving him a crestfallen look. “You will eventually marry Astoria or Pansy or some other pure-blood witch, Draco. Your parents will be happy with your wife and you’ll have a life together. I don’t want to talk about this any more. You have to understand that your choice will never permit me to be in your life.”

She turned and headed back towards the floo. Draco was amazed at how quickly the evening had deteriorated. He followed her, catching up to her on the long walk back to the fireplace.

“Granger, just stop!” he said, wrapping his fingers around her arm. He was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

“I thought I could do this, Draco, but I can’t. It’s depressing for me. But I’m not angry at you any more. Can we just leave it at that?” A tear trailed down her cheek.

“No, we can’t. We have passion and a connection. Why are you so willing to throw that away?” He wiped her face with his fingers.

Arm around her slim shoulders, Draco led her to the sofa in front of the fireplace. They sat, Hermione avoiding eye contact with Draco. She sighed.

Finally, Hermione looked at Draco’s serious eyes and firm mouth. She cupped his cheek in her hand, her thumb brushing the corner of his mouth. He closed his eyes, knowing she was saying goodbye. She pulled him into a gentle kiss. Draco hugged her close, memorizing her smell, her feel.

“Goodbye, Draco,” she whispered before calling out her address into the floo network.

Draco felt his wet face and realized that for a second time, Hermione had ended things with him.

Over the next month, Draco went out with Blaise and Theo several times a week. He drank until he almost passed out and he fucked beautiful girl after beautiful girl. He didn’t kiss the women or even find out their names, although he was sure they knew who he was. Blaise found his antics amusing, but Theo knew something was wrong with their friend. He knew Draco slept all day, often skipping meals in favor of alcohol. Draco’s eyes were bloodshot and he was losing weight. If Theo didn’t know better, he might think Draco had a broken heart.

By February, Lucius Malfoy realized his son was no longer managing his portion of the Malfoy estate. His business contacts in England were none too happy with this. Lucius didn’t know why his son had reneged on his responsibilities, but he was going to find out.

Lucius and Narcissa arrived at Malfoy Manor and were greeted by Draco’s house elf, Beenie.

“Where is our son?” Lucius asked the wide-eyed creature.

“Master Draco’s asleep, sir,” Beenie squeaked.

“It’s almost three in the afternoon!” Narcissa said. “Is he sick?”

“No, Mistress. He likes to sleep during the day now.”

“Narcissa, please settle in while I check on our son.” Lucius began walking towards Draco’s suite, but Narcissa stopped him.

“Lucius, let me join you. He hasn’t seen us in years. We can’t just go in demanding answers. I believe there is something wrong.”

Lucius acquiesced to his wife’s wishes. They walked through the manor, finding Draco’s door on the far west end of the third floor. Lucius knocked, but Draco did not answer.

Using Alohamora to unlock the door, they stepped into the dark, stagnant room. Their son was lying naked in his bed, a tangle of blankets around him. Narcissa used her wand to cover him with a sheet.

“Draco,” she said gently. She approached him, noticing the dark circles around his eyes. She shook his shoulder carefully.

“Hermione?” he mumbled, his head pounding from all the Firewhisky he had consumed the night before.

Lucius was opening the curtains, letting some light into the room. He turned and looked at his wife with a questioning look.

In a louder voice, Narcissa said, “Draco. It’s Mother.”

Draco groaned, “Please, for the love of Merlin, close the bloody curtains!”

“Draco! Get up and be in the sitting room in fifteen minutes!” Lucius boomed, tired of his son’s disgusting behavior.

The elder Malfoys left Draco to drag himself out of bed.

“Oh, Lucius, we gave him too much responsibility at such a young age. We needed to be here to guide him.” Narcissa hated seeing her son so…disheartened.

“He was at Hogwarts most of that time, but I understand what you’re saying. We can stay here as long as needed.” Lucius was not an indulgent man, but he did believe in supporting his family. If his son needed his assistance, he would oblige.

They made their way to the sitting room and waited for Draco. Narcissa had Beenie bring tea and sandwiches. Twenty minutes passed and finally Draco entered the room, showered and dressed.

“Mother, Father.” He took a seat and served himself tea.

“Draco, your father has received word that you have stopped managing your portion of the Malfoy holdings. We want you to tell us what’s happening,” Narcissa explained, trying to understand when her gangly boy had become this surly, long-haired man in front of her.

Draco sipped his tea and looked at his parents. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ve been busy with other things.”

“What could be more important than managing our family’s resources, Draco?” Lucius asked sharply.

“Yes, how could our family live without more money than Croesus?” Draco sneered.

“Draco!” Narcissa admonished.

“I have plans tonight. Please excuse me,” Draco said, walking out of the room.

The Malfoys watched their son walk out of the room, baffled by his behavior.

“Who is Hermione?” asked Narcissa.

“Could he be referring to the girl at Hogwarts? She’s Muggle-born, isn’t she?” Lucius asked his wife.

The Scandinavian community had been wonderful for the Malfoy’s businesses, but they were intolerant of the bigotry so present in England. Lucius and Narcissa had become very careful not to use slurs. They had many half-blood and Muggle-born business connections and socialized with a mix of witches and wizards while in Sweden. They were still most comfortable amongst their own kind, but their kind was dying out. The majority of wizards and witches throughout the world were half-bloods.

“Yes! But I thought Draco despised her.” Narcissa thought about her son and the witch in question.

“It appears he doesn’t,” Lucius observed.

“Merlin, do you think she broke his heart? Is that why he’s acting so…so recklessly?”

“Maybe. Let’s give him some time and see what we can learn. We can be patient, my dear.”

“You’re right, Lucius. He deserves our patience.”
- 6
- 7
- 8
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It's Not Over